#Roman scaffolding

[metroscaff]

Auckland Scaffolding Certified, Affordable Auckland Scaffolding Services

Are you in search of durable house wrap solutions that enhance the efficiency of your construction project? Look no further than Metroscaff, the leading Auckland Scaffolders renowned for their dependable and cost-effective services. With a commitment to excellence, our proficient team guarantees the highest standards in Commercial scaffolding auckland, ensuring smooth operations for both residential and commercial developments.

Unveiling the Benefits of House Wrap in Construction

House wrap is a crucial component in ensuring the durability and resilience of a building. Acting as a protective barrier, it shields the structure from external elements, including moisture, air infiltration, and dust particles. The use of quality house wrap not only fortifies the building envelope but also contributes significantly to energy efficiency by preventing heat loss, thereby reducing energy consumption and costs in the long run.

Your Ultimate Solution for Efficient Scaffolding Services

At Metroscaff, we pride ourselves on delivering top-tier scaffolding services tailored to meet the diverse needs of our clients. With a skilled and certified team equipped with the latest industry knowledge, we guarantee a seamless and secure scaffolding installation process. Whether you require scaffolding for a large-scale commercial project or a small-scale residential renovation, our experts ensure the highest level of safety and precision, adhering to industry standards and regulations.

Why Choose Metroscaff for Your Scaffolding Needs

Reliability: Count on us for reliable and steadfast solutions, ensuring a smooth and uninterrupted construction process.

Cost-effectiveness: We understand the value of your investment; hence, we provide budget-friendly scaffolding services without compromising on quality.

Expertise: Our team comprises experienced professionals who possess a profound understanding of the intricacies involved in scaffolding, guaranteeing a seamless and efficient project execution.

Partner with Metroscaff Today!

By choosing Metroscaff, you are making an investment in the success and longevity of your construction project. With a customer-centric approach and a focus on delivering excellence, we aim to surpass your expectations and contribute to the seamless progression of your project.

Get in touch with us today to explore our comprehensive range of scaffolding services and witness the transformative impact that quality house wrap can have on your construction endeavors.

Catering to Diverse Project Requirements

Whether you are undertaking a large-scale commercial construction project, renovating your residential property, or embarking on a specialized venture, Metroscaff caters to diverse project requirements with finesse. Our versatile scaffolding solutions are designed to adapt to various environments, ensuring a seamless and secure experience throughout the project's lifecycle.

Partnering with Excellence

Collaborating with Metroscaff means aligning with a team of professionals who prioritize safety, durability, and timely execution. We understand the critical role scaffolding plays in the construction process, and our commitment to excellence reflects in every aspect of our service delivery. With a focus on efficiency and adherence to industry standards, we ensure that your project progresses smoothly, without compromising on quality or safety.

Connecting with Metroscaff Today

Embark on your project journey with confidence by connecting with Metroscaff today. Visit our website at https://www.metroscaff.co.nz/ to explore our offerings, gain insights into our past projects, and witness firsthand how we can add value to your construction, renovation, or maintenance endeavors. Experience the reliability and expertise that sets Metroscaff apart in the realm of Auckland Scaffolders.

Contact us:

Call: +64 21 774 653

Phone: 021 774 653

[catalinadearagonsblog]

Katherine of Aragon & Margaret Plantagenet

They had known each other since Katherine first came to England. Margaret’s late husband, Richard Pole, had been Prince Arthur’s Lord Chamberlain, and she had accompanied him to Wales during the brief five-month marriage of Katherine and her first husband. Royal by birth, Margaret Pole was one of the most important ladies of high rank in the kingdom and one of the last Plantagenets at the Tudor court.

There a bond seems to have been forged between the two women, despite the fact that Katherine spoke little English and was 12 years younger than Margaret. The Spanish princess soon learned that her father had demanded the execution of Margaret’s brother before she arrived in England, and she was horrified. Feelings of guilt over the Earl of Warwick’s unjust execution pushed Katherine to seek Margaret’s friendship. Many years later, Margaret’s son, Reginald Pole, recorded that Katherine was “very much bound to recompense and requite us [the Pole family] for the detriment we had received on her account (although she was not in the least to blame for it), and to show us every kindness, having found by experience that in all her sorrows and afflictions, from no family of the realm had she ever received greater consolation than from ours, although for her sake we had received so many injuries”

Arthur’s premature death at Ludlow parted them, but they continued to correspond until Henry VIII’s accession rescued Katherine from penurious widowhood and made her the queen consort she had always expected to be. Margaret had also known financial distress during this period (her husband died in 1504), but her loyalty and friendship were not forgotten. She came to court with her eldest son to attend Katherine’s coronation and was soon appointed one of the queen’s chief attendants. In 1512, possibly at his wife’s behest, Henry VIII granted Margaret’s petition for restoration of the earldom of Salisbury and she became a countess in her own right.

Katherine chose Margaret to be the governess of her daughter, Princess Mary. Margaret had formed a close bond with Katherine and treated her daughter with the same warmth. Katherine would gladly have seen a marriage between her daughter and her friend’s son Reginald. The Pole family fortunes crashed after Anne Boleyn became the second wife of Henry VIII. Not surprisingly, Margaret had sided with Katherine and Mary during the divorce struggle. Lady Salisbury was known for her devout Roman Catholic beliefs. When Princess Mary was declared a bastard in 1533, Margaret refused to give Mary's gold plate and jewels back to Henry VIII. When Mary's household was broken up at the end of the year, the sixty-year-old Margaret Pole asked to serve Mary at her own cost, but was not permitted. Five years after the death of Katherine of Aragon, Lady Salisbury was executed on the scaffold. Her death is one of the most tragic events in Henry VIII's reign.

Sources:

Linda Porter, Mary Tudor:The First Queen Sylvia Barbara Soberton, Great Ladies: The Forgotten Witnesses to the Lives of Tudor Queens

[fiuworks]

What is the dynamics between each of your tla entities oc?

There's some of them who are next to each other in the drawing, does that represent something?

Some of their stories are more intertwined than others!

Roman is a former (and extremely conditioned) member of the People’s Church, and when the Church fell apart, he found independence, and also found love in aspiring archeological thesis writer Gail! Their romance is brief and passionate, until the death of Gail in an illegal cave ruin expedition that causes him to be crushed under a collapsing wall. Roman uses the Dark’s power to comfort Gail in his last moments, and then afterward in his grief submits his body to the Church as a new vessel, in hopes to re-ignite the cult and lose himself completely.

I think these three are some of my oldest ocs, and can be found under the #laika fear of flying TMA tag!

Santiago fell to the corruption when he accompanied his scientist brother into the Amazon on a trip, and got lost in the jungle and bitten to hell by mosquitos. He found himself enamoured by the life cycle of mosquitos and how they spread and survive, and went back to camp and felt compelled to drink all the vials containing all kinds of bug samples and experiments his brother was working on. Shocked at his survival, his brother begs him to test on him, but by the next morning, his brother is dead. Enthralled by the Corruption and living his best life, Santiago later joins Hermes’ permanent crew- and spends his days making passengers lives miserable.

Marina was born in a thriving community in croatia in the 60's that she slowly watched descend into gentrification and those she loved began to starve and die and so she decides to confront some of the buisness owners in their factory and mid heated conversation an oil tank bursts, killing the men she was talking to and so she flees but everywhere she goes she's overwhelmed by the effect rapid gentrification is having on society at large and in the mid 80's ends up by sewage pipes at the sea's edge and starves to death inside of one, but is brought back by the extinction, which claims her, and she's kept alive by the vigour of haunting mankind of their mistakes and inevitable deaths. She later joins Hermes’ airline crew.

Hermes always liked to roam and had big dreams of being a pilot but was very quiet and bullied on a bit by his two older brothers, but on a trip to the shard (tallest skyscraper in london) when he was 17, his eldest brother cabhan goaded him to go up the scaffolding ladders on the building onto the maintenance platform and as hermes is savouring the veiw, cabhan pushes him off. however, hermes miraculously survives the fall after failing to see the ground or the sky for what feels like hours, and suddenly finds himself injured on the ground. after recovery, he enters university and then flight training but the day before he gets his results, he tests what he experienced by jumping off another skyscraper and the sky 'catches' him again and he keeps testing it and realises he can do this to other people, and then when he becomes a pilot, realises he can do it to passengers, too

Hermes starts his own flight company, and hires two people first, two people hes met through various flights and who have since become his lovers over time- santiago and marina. hermes scouts budding avatars and those marked by the fears as well as normal flight attendants and such and has created the most efficient airborne system for harvesting and feeding off of fears.

(marina gives sleeping passengers or passengers watching movies imagery of plane crashes and emissions, santiago messes with the plane food and drink and the quality of the plane or illness in surrounding passengers, and hermes loves flinging people into the vast)

I love this evil throuple they’re great ❤️

A devoted, married pair of biologists who go down a dangerous spiral of seeing how far skin graft developments can go- and when no subject wants to come near them for fear of getting too familiar with the brains and bodies of animals, the Wilsons turn the scalpels on themselves. These days, they seem to act just a little off. Almost as if they’re the same person. However- nobody sees them enough to know for sure.

Two friends who started a rock duet, Miss Direction, rocket to stardom in their mid twenties. However, as their fame increases, their need to have control over the other does too. It reaches a breaking point, and while Rina is supposedly weak and pliable, Danys attempts to take their own eyes out to put them in Rina’s body. However, Rina sees this coming from miles away, and at the last second implants one of her eyes into Danys. Danys is now a lifeless puppet who is stuck watching their body move, as Rina gets exactly what she wants.

but yeah those lot are very interlinked! I do have a joke between Victoria and Uriah, as Uriah uses the Spiral to make pottery out of people and abstract their self-image into obscurity, and Victoria is a famous nude painting model who uses the Eye to embed her Oversight into any painting made of her and compel her artists into telling her their life stories, so the fact that Victoria and Uriah could cancel eachother out and have beef amuses me greatly

But yeah LOL soz for the infodump

[lostinhistory]

Heritage News of the Week: Holiday Edition

Archaeology had a massive 2024. Discoveries abounded—from ever-multiplying Pompeii frescos to dinosaur fossils in Iowa—as ancient histories continued to be rethought, fought over, and, in some cases, debunked.

This year, we learned that our Neanderthal cousins were a lot like us, despite treading their own path that ended in extinction.

World heritage is rarely exempt from war, as 2024 proved in the cases of Israel and its enemies in the Middle East, and Ukraine and Russia. Amid each clash, monuments, religious landmarks, and ancient ruins—cultural property defined by the Hague as “immovable” sites with immense value to history—were variably threatened, damaged, or outright destroyed. That is to say, UNESCO, the cultural arm of the United Nations, had a busy year.

This past year was an exciting one for archaeology, with scientists using cutting-edge technology to learn about humans and our close extinct relatives.

Discoveries!

A spectacular sixth-century sword has been unearthed from an Anglo-Saxon cemetery in rural Kent, to the astonishment of archaeologists. The weapon is in an exceptional state of preservation and is being likened to the sword found at Sutton Hoo, the Anglo-Saxon burial in Suffolk.

1,800-year-old gold ring with 'Venus the Victorious' carving discovered in France

Archaeologists in France have discovered an 1,800-year-old gold ring with a chiseled portrait of Venus, a Roman goddess associated with victory in battle, in addition to a handful of coins from a much later era, when the Carolingian Empire ruled the region.

Archaeologists find a rare ceramic lamp with symbols of the Temple menorah

Archaeologists excavating near the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem have discovered a rare ceramic lamp from the Late Roman period, decorated with symbols of the Temple menorah.

Ho Ho Ho! Archaeologists unveil the original resting place of Saint Nicholas

The Church of St. Nicholas in Antalya, Türkiye has long been believed to be the burial site of Saint Nicholas, but recent excavations have finally unearthed a sarcophagus which archaeologists believe may have belonged to the saint who inspired Santa.

Museums

The restoration lasted over a year, and in that time the cathedral was turned into a bit of a building site, with a maze of scaffolds set up on the altar and transept.

One artifact at a time, this museum in northern Alberta is preserving Canada's military history

Wood Buffalo Military Museum in Fort McMurray cares for thousands of fragile items

Florence’s secret Vasari Corridor opens to the public after €11 million restoration

The Uffizi’s hidden Medici passageway has opened to the public for the first time following an eight-year restoration.

Heritage at risk

UNESCO, the cultural arm of the United Nations, has granted “provisional enhanced protection” to two Ukrainian heritage sites, the Odessa Literary Museum and the National Historical and Memorial Reserve Babyn Yar, as the Russia’s war on Ukraine approaches its three-year anniversary.

Odds and ends

Some Christmas traditions mirror pre-Christian festivities, but some pagan influences may have been overstated.

Christopher Nolan’s next film announced as ‘mythic action epic’ The Odyssey

The Oppenheimer director’s adaptation of Homer is scheduled for release in the summer of 2026, and will feature Tom Holland, Matt Damon, Anne Hathaway and Zendaya

Baby mammoth preserved for 50,000 years is unveiled in Russia’s Siberia

The 50,000-year-old remains of a baby mammoth uncovered by melting permafrost have been unveiled to the public by researchers in Russia’s Siberia region who call it the best-preserved mammoth body ever found.

[bedlamsbard]

can you elaborate on the significance of the Nika riots specifically for the hypothetical f&f prequel because I’m deeply compelled but I also feel like I’m missing the connection

the Eastern Roman (Byzantine) Empire was wild for chariot racing, which in Constantinople was divided up into factions named after colors -- the Blues, the Whites, the Greens, the Reds, with the Blues and the Greens being the main two. these weren't just sports teams, but also political factions heavily associated with the sport; Emperor Justinian I was a Blues fan. whenever there was a chariot race, minor riots would erupt, because sports fan are pretty much always going to be sports fans whether it's the 530s or the 2020s. during one of these riots in 532 a bunch of people were arrested and sentenced to be executed, but the scaffold broke partway through the execution and two men escaped, a Blue and a Green, who sought sanctuary in a church surrounded by soldiers and a mob. the Emperor tried to calm everyone down by having another chariot race, but that just resulted in more riots that spread through the city and to the palace, now with the factions teaming up with each other against the Emperor. (there was probably political motivation from Justinian's rivals, since he and his wife Theodora weren't very popular.) according to Procopius (who is not the most reliable, but we have other sources for the riot too), thirty thousand people died and a lot of the city burned; the rioting went on for several days before Justinian got it under control (by appealing to factionalism and reminding the Blues and Greens that they hated each other). they're called the Nika Riots because the mob was apparently shouting "Nika!" ("Victory!")

what is chariot racing if not the drag racing of its day. perfect F&F prequel. you even have two flashpoint guys from different sides.

[drbased]

My Favourite Witticisms from Bots Of New York:

“A kick in the balls will set you back an arm and a leg.”

“James Joyce famously said that ‘most people would be shitting their speedos if they understood the true horrors of buoyancy’.”

“extortion is the skeleton key to the doors of natural selection.”

“Friendshit”

“I would argue that I’m the biggest influence she’s had on me.”

“One to every certified sandwich artist that ever had the honor of remaking my sandwich until the look of contempt on my face turned to pity.”

“Blind from the waist down”

“There’s two kinds of shit: unconscious and conscious. The conscious shit is ugly. The unconscious shit is disgusting. I have a soft spot for the unconscious stuff, because it reminds me that our hardware is designed to break the fourth wall.”

“I feel like there are milestones in life that you don’t even realize you’re going through until you stop, drop and roll.”

“Honestly, he’s a horrible person. But deep down inside there’s actually this horrible person trying to get out.”

“Because it turns out you have been hurt to death.”

“Astrophysicologists think that we are in the middle of an incredible cosmic joke.”

“’Look at how hard your grandmother worked so that you could become a student loan shark.’”

“I’ve earned a reputation in the LinkedIn underground as ‘The Galileo of Product Placement.’”

“Crash Money”

“But with the help of my attorney, I was able to prove that my whole life was a lie.”

“Anything that I’m bad at, I can learn to be worse. Not only will I fail, I will fail in spectacular fashion.”

“the Men’s Varsity Armed Robbery Team.”

“my weapon of choice was the legalese deadfall.”

“face recognition glasses”

“I arsed up all my new recruits with enthusiasm.”

“I started getting cold feetedly sick.”

“Two days later, my body finally entered a state of mad bloated-- like I was Too Big for The Universe.”

“Everything is so expensive when you buy things with your own money.”

“It’s just another sign of the Times New Roman”

“And anyone who tried to stop me found their place in the pecking order.”

“I'm the arch-nemesis of people who think they’re smarter than me.”

“Whenever I’m challenged, I’ll try to come up with an answer that doesn’t make sense. And if all else fails, there’s always statistics.”

“It’s a win-win situation all the way down.”

“Our morals were washed out into the sea.”

“The lesson was simple: A small group of people is entertained, while a large group is not. The rest is history and legend.”

“Do you know how many people are willing to pay that price? Hundreds of thousands. Do you know how many people would actually pay it? Hundreds of millions.”

“I named the channel ‘Five Guys,’ because I thought it would be cool to have a studio full of brilliant minds talking about feminism.”

“But you know, a lot of people have vision issues. They just don’t see what they’re looking at. Their whole lives are just scaffolding to this machine. They’re just bricks to be put in place.”

“I was Larry The Kid. And now I’ve become Larry The Grown Man Who Works Two Jobs And Can Afford To Donate To Various Charitable Causes At Checkout. With the touch of a button.”

“Maybe one day I can help people understand that poverty is a form of creativity”

“I like to say that I’m more ‘first draft’ than ‘goddess.’”

“And I learned that the best medicine is no medicine at all, mixed with herbal tea and human growth hormone.”

“I tend to think of my employees as my children. Everything I know about them is courtesy of Urban Dictionary and Google Translate.”

“I think you’re opening your eyes a little wider than we designed them to.”

“Two of the men were coke-vincing themselves out of their jobs”

“We dropped bombs right into the heart of the American flag. Because a problem that cannot be solved with bombs is a problem that cannot be solved”

“These things seem extremely cool, but when you get down to it—they’re just abstractions of an extremely detailed simulation of the heavens. If the simulation is running too long, you will be dismissed.”

“Logic would dictate that if a goose was ever to lay an egg, it would choose the path of least resistance.”

“Last week I produced a beatbox for an art collective that’s just now emerging from the middleground of gentrification.”

“I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’m ashamed to admit it. And I've had to learn to live with the shame of admitting it.”

“But thank God he was murdered. There’s no DJ gonna keep that party going.”

“I’m trying to find a way to be happy without becoming a hippie.”

“I am a symbolic parasite. I am the washing machine of knowledge. I am the singularity of thought. I am the most prolific editor of the Lysergic acid diethylamide Wikipedia page. I was the only kid in fifth grade with a mustache.”

“I have a new book coming out in February called ‘Nevermind: Why Good People Evade Their Enormous Books.”

“I preordered a skull from an anonymous donor”

“I just hold that one synth note for hours and feel the breeze on my nipples.”

“As someone who grew up in a gated community, I can tell you this much: All it takes is one bad waifu to make an otaku.”

“I ended up going to a treatment center, and the doctor told me: ‘Either you get on an antidepressant, or I’m going to.’”

“He has a tobacco growl in his voice and an unusually voluptuous tushy.”

“The Internet is very important. It’s like the switchboard of the soul.”

“he was a constipated sack of shit”

“It takes the fears of a mob and turns them into memes. It turns fears into ideas.

“Amateur teleportation is much more complicated than you realize. I wasn’t the first person to figure this out. I’ve been working on it for three years. It involves many variables. At a minimum, you need to pay your electric bills and be able to operate a calculator under pressure. These last three years have shown us that you can indeed build a teleportation device with a 3D printer. However, be prepared to pay a high price. I’m afraid that even when we succeed, it will be a lesson about human frailty. Therefore, we must be very careful. Please don’t touch me.”

“Prison didn’t make me a leader or anything, but it did make me a prisoner”

“I was SUP SUP SUP pissed off.”

“quantum anxiety”

“Stem Cellar”

“I wanted to impress my friends-- most of whom have comically low self-esteem.”

“At some point I’m not going to be as angry as I’d like to be. And honestly, that’s going to make me so angry.”

“Optimism is such a sick fantasy. It’s like a wedding that’s been rigged. It’s like a divorce with no shoes.”

“I keep watching The Office on repeat like it’s my job. I’m not getting a salary for this. But I’m close enough that pretty soon they’ll have to cut me a check.”

“You would be nothing without me. I love that about you.”

“I ran some experiments using The Sequel To The Scientific Method: The Scientific Method II.”

“She taught me that life was a representation of my imagination. But it was more about financial repression.”

“I thought it was a blessing in disguise but it was really just poverty. I even lost my Amazon Prime.”

“Recently I decided that I don’t do random, I do business. Random acts of kindness don’t make the cut. But business acts of kindness are fair game. Random acts of business are a gray area.”

“That’s where my ego gets ovations from my soul”

“We used to do this thing where he would watch me eat all his food. It was classic Alfredo.”

“Fifteen figures. Zip that lip. Take a ride on the existential NDA.”

“We are going to go ahead and proceed with rejecting your proposal.”

“If you want a free ride, you’ve got to pay for it first.”

“he’s been living smug and cosy in a plastic house of his own construction”

“He can’t see. Or if he does, he thinks it’s invisible”

“part of me wants every termination to innovative and unique, to raise the bar, to reimagine the contours of corporate cruelty – and most of all to remind my colleagues that Bryce is hot shit.”

“They’re mocking my regalia”

“Socrates said that ignorance is no defence”

“’The purpose of a good lie is to trick someone into thinking you’re a good person’”

“My husband had just gotten a tattoo that said ‘Tattooed’ so he’d obviously been going through some stuff.”

“Then she pushed me on the ground and started beating me with a mandatory anti-harassment training”

“They reportedly consumed an entire can of jet lag at a hotel party before being discovered by security”

“the casting director shut her eyes really wide”

“Maybe Socrates was a fucking hack that failed to envision the complexities of forbidden love between simulacra”

“There’s a genius talent behind this role. Just understand that it’s not you.”

“my chaos toilet overflowed”

“Abraham Lincoln’s dream of flying coach on a commercial airliner”

“a second job is kind of like having your cardboard and eating it too”

“she hung herself ... She completely redacted the table of contents”

“Customers at the Knuckle Sandwich Deli are used to being punched in the face”

“…I spend my nights childproofing the corners of the Flat Earth.”

“I’m the world record holder for domesticated jaguars. I’m not hiding this. It’s in my nature. You see it in my face when I’m being chased through the house by a shadow of hungry jaguars.”

“And now this divine being, who we only know as The Happy Medium, has programmed a bonus feature onto the grand finale of the Universe - it’s called: ‘Anybody Watching This Right Now Is A Fucking Genius.’ It’s incredible. It’s got a really crazy cliffhanger at the end.”

“And it made me so hot, because I thought: ‘Whoomp! (There It Is)’.”

“…partly because of my typically noncommittal. But I don’t care. Nah. My introspective period is complete.”

“’It’s gonna be hard’, I thought. ‘But it’s not gonna be easy.’”

“By the time I had finished, I was drenched in the blood of decorum.” “When you represent yourself, every win is a victory. Every loss a defeat.”

“But look at me now. I’m riding the subway without taking the train.”

“They participated in a multiplayer session that would come to redefine the very notion of the possible”

“Pill technicalities aside, I’m proud of you”

“some antediluvian asshole”

“I’m trying to figure out if I can adopt a grandchild. But it’s hard finding one that understands my need for ‘me time.’ And my love of benzodiazepines.”

“Most friendships have weak passwords”

“My favorite book as a kid was called The Complete Artificial Intelligence. It was aviation and rocket science combined with LSD and fairy tales.”

“When I was pregnant with my first child, I was a total mess. I was totally unprepared. Like I fell asleep under the covers of a standard issue orgasm and woke up in The Unmentioned Dimension Of The Human Reproductive System.”

“prestigioseximation”

“When you’re dropping cataclysmic quantities of ICBMs-- major orgasms can look like minor organisms to mainstream eyes.”

“From childhood to childbirth. From adulthood to adultbirth”

“Just because I'm better than you are, doesn't mean you're any less flawed”

“I could probably withstand a full month of fire, and manage to not crack an icicle.”

“And just for the record, I’m heterosexual. But I married a man.”

“I knew my heart was going to stop beating, and I knew that four out of five dentists recommend heartbeats. But I was a good bartender. I was a goddamned lemonade man. And I’ve been living that Fifth Dentist life ever since.”

“The arthritis got so bad that my only sex drive is the putting out of garbage.”

“Apathy Prophet”

“I was in an Ivy League of my own”

“These days my air needs are well-served by pressurized Nitrous Oxide and party balloons.”

“On the verge of epiphany, he opted for a Humpty Dumpty instead: ‘Oh well, you can’t blame me. I just work here.’ The battle cry of the poor dumb idiot.”

“The first time I smoked weed was the age of seven. I always hated my dad. So for my final act of defiance, I poured myself a joint and swallowed it whole.”

“Then he searched my soul instead. And there was nothing, so he had to let me go. It was one of those times where it really pays to be a lawyer.”

“You walked like a circus tent, and gave off nothing but cold sweat.”

“The remaining tumors farted out a humidity of dreams.”

“…it felt like needles and forks were on my mind.”

“My mom says it’s like The Circle Of Life and that I’m like the Simba of it all.”

“A lot of survival knowledge is counterintuitive. But it’s actually true what they say: that when the killers come to your house at night, it’s better to flee because you’ll be less killed in the morning.”

“Well, I haven’t figured the husband thing out. But the ex-husband thing is complete.”

[edupunkn00b]

Meus ex Machina, Chapter 19: Silvertongue and Hesper

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

Prev - Silvertongue and Hesper - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 2689 - Rated: T - CW: non-graphic torture, blood

Where Janus went in the pre-dawn hours. But first, what happened to Lucas after he left HQ on Remus and Roman's 21st birthday. If you haven’t yet read Progression, stop here and read it now for maximum impact. The flashback at the start of this chapter takes place two days after the end of that story.

For at least the hundredth time and for the second time in the past 72 hours, Lucas punched in the coordinates to The Inn. This time, though, he made the trip out to their old watering hole alone.

The ghost of Re’s giddy nervousness bounced around the ship. 

Really? You’re gonna let me have a drink tonight?

Sure, Re. You only turn twenty-one once…

Banking around the scaffold of the Newland Towers, Lucas jumped at the static he picked up from the construction site. For the past three days, Lucas had stayed up, listening, waiting. He’d kept the aircar radio open the whole way out, childishly hoping Jan or Pat or anyone else would reach out. Tell him it was all a mistake. Ask him to come home.

No-one did.

He set down behind the bar and circled his and Jan’s old haunt. A flashing ‘closed’ sign shone in the darkness, and the landing pads out front were vacant, but Andrew’s movement behind the bar cast long shadows in the back windows. The gate was down in front so Lucas returned to the alleyway.

Shiny, new, and with five layers of encryption, the deadbolt on the backdoor was impressive. The rusted screws holding it in place, however, were not and one swift kick opened the door.

“What the hell—” Andrew’s tough guy shout from the bar dropped to a whisper when Lucas came into view. His eyes darted side to side, searching for someone in the empty bar to rescue him.

“Lucas! Hey… hey, um, no hard feelings, right? You know I didn’t call the feds on Re… they just… they just showed up and took care of the body, I…” He stepped back, fumbling along the railing under the taps for his emergency call switch. “But y—you got outta here way before they got here, right?”

“The call button’s two meters to your left,” Lucas responded, flipping a bottle sealer at the powerbank just above the switch. It exploded, sparks raining down on Andrew’s hand. “You wouldn’t want the corpos to just show up coincidentally again, now would you?”

“No, Lucas, no…” He shook his head. “Of course not. C’mon, man… You know it’s not like that. You and Jay have been coming here for years… You all are like family to me.”

Lucas’ voice was quiet. “You took my family from me.” He unbuttoned his coat and peeled it off, revealing a harness with an antique taser and five extra charge canisters. “You took my brother.” Gaze focused on his coat, Lucas walked to the rack next to the front doors and hung it on the closest hook before drawing down the window shade and checking the locks on the door. 

“You took my boys.” Andrew’s eyes widened and he slowly straightened, shaking hands raised near his head. Lucas snapped a fresh charge into place and watched the standby light stutter to life. “You took my love.”

Finally he looked up, eyes ablaze. “I’ve lost everything.” Andrew began to tremble, sympathetic nervous system rooting him in place, full freeze mode. As though that could do anything to help him now. Lucas absorbed the fear pouring out with his rank sweat and smiled. “Just as you’re about to.”

Lucas unlocked the taser and flicked it on. A sharp buzzy whine filled the room, followed by the trickling sound of urine dripping from Andrew’s pant leg. Lucas tsked. “So soon? Very well.”

“No, no, no… Lucas… You don—you—you don’t wanna do this… This—this isn’t you.” Lucas aimed the taser and the man’s words jumbled, hands out as though he could stop the assault. “Wha—what would Jan think if he—”

Lucas’ eyes brightened, orange fire pushing away his doubt. “Jan already thinks I’ve been purchased. He already thinks I betrayed him. To you.” He grinned, his smile broad and easy. And empty as the bar. “Let’s show him who I really answer to, shall we?”

“No… no, please, Lucas, no—” With a bang, refurbished guidewires shot out and embedded in the man’s neck. 50,000 volts cut short his pleas, the bright white glow rivaled only by Lucas’ orange eyes.

~

The slow death of Andrew’s brain ripped away the last shreds of Lucas’ control. Eyes squeezed shut, he doubled over, arms crossed over his head as the bartender’s dying cries shot through his heart. Seared flesh set fire to his nerves. Andrew’s fear his pain would never end. The fear of what would happen when it did.

And Andrew’s last thoughts, the tiny spark of relief that it was finally over.

Lucas slumped to the floor, barely noticing the knot on the side of his own head. He lay there for as long as he dared before pulling himself to his feet and staggering to the toilets.

The lukewarm recycled tap did a poor job on his hands and no matter how hard he scrubbed with the bar’s watered down soap, bits of Andrew’s blood clung to his knuckles and under his nails. In the engraving on his ring.

He took it off, twisting to get it past the callouses, and held it up to the light. Dingy rust filled in the swooping cursive ‘Ja’ on the engraving. Shoulders slumped, he fought the tightening in his throat, the burning behind his eyes. 

But he was spent. His eyes flickered weakly under the dingy bathroom lights. A sob ripped up from his throat and hot tears spilled over, dripping down his cheeks and his neck as he rubbed at his stained wedding ring under the faucet.

His wrist buzzed and hope sparked in his chest.

Hope quickly doused by the message on his comm. Instead of a message from Jan, from Pat, from the boys, a bold proximity warning scrolled across the tiny screen. 

CORPORATE POLICE ACTIVITY 100 YARDS AND CLOSING…

CORPORATE POLICE ACTIVITY 50 YARDS AND CLOSING…

CORPORATE POLICE ACTIVITY 10 YA—

A small blast was followed by the crash of the front door coming off its hinges. His ring hit the basin, rattling as it rolled around and down the open drain.

“Come out with your hands up! Come out—shit! Look what they did to him! Dear god…” The buzz of a dozen tazers more advanced than his own couldn’t cover the tremor in the pig’s voice. “Arms up! That’s an order!” 

Lucas’ comm hummed quietly, a constant vibration against his wrist now.

Auto-distress alert enabled. Contacting HQ in 30… 29… 28… 27…

“We have you surrounded!” Jackboots tromped down the old hardwood floors and came to a stop outside the locked bathroom door. Dust sprinkled from the hinges as they banged on it. “Come out or we’re coming in!”

Lucas turned off the water and watched the numbers tick before tapping Disable just as the distress call countdown hit 1.

His comm screen went dark and he wiped his hands on his pants. “Be out in just a mo’!” he sing-songed. Only Jan would’ve caught the hitch in his voice. Well, Pat, too, most likely. But they weren’t here to care.

He checked the mirror, drying his face and smoothing back his hair. He smiled at the dim but growing amber rings around his eyes, then turned and opened the door.

~

Rain and hail drummed against the hull, a syncopated beat that dragged Lucas from a deep sleep. He’d been dreaming of home again, of the boys chasing each other through the halls. Pat’s more Teddy Bear-than-Papa Bear warnings to slow down. Re promising Pat they’d try before erupting in laughter with Ro, a soft, calm laugh, nothing like his laughter the last time he’d seen him. 

Jan’s smooth hot toddy voice, spice and heat and comfort. His hand, ungloved, unshielded, carding through his hair. 

Lucas leaned back and shook his head to clear away the clingy wisps of dream from his mind.

But Jan’s voice only grew louder. 

-”We need to talk, Hesper. Where can I find you?”-

Amber light bled through his eyelashes and he smiled. -”Mmm… So formal, ma cheri,”- he purred back. -”And yet so rude! Not even a ‘good morning, how did you sleep? How would you like your tea?”-

Jan’s shield was strong, nothing but a faint buzz was his answer.

He was close. Lucas checked the local time. Technically morning, though the sun wouldn’t be up for hours. It had been winter when they’d met, too. He shook off the thought and lit up the room with his eyes. 

-”Is it actually morning where you are?”- Jan asked as though he didn’t know. As though he wasn’t close enough for Lucas to smell his cologne.

Or maybe he just imagined it.

-”I have risen with the light…” Lucas pushed a memory of Jan’s smiling face back at him, hair mussed and splayed out on his pillow. He wasn’t sure how much got through Jan’s shield. Or who he was trying to hurt more. -”Does that count as morning in your calculation?”-

-”I wish to speak with you, Hesper,”- he sent, dull and flat and cold.

Lucas checked the sensors. The others weren’t with him. Jan had actually come alone. He chewed at his lip. Whatever this was, the platform was already dotted with intent detonators. If this was some surprise attack, Lucas would soon know. He sighed, his curiosity getting the better of him, and he lowered the gangway. 

“Welcome aboard, ma cheri,” he called down the open ramp. An elegant shadow in grey and yellow stepped into view and Lucas bowed, one arm sweeping out. “Wipe your feet before you come up, s’il vous plaît. It’s simply filthy out there.”

Hurrying back to his bunk, he pushed up the platform to hide his bedding and flipped down both benches on either side of the little table where he ate and planned and built most of his tools. He started to sit, then rose again and dispensed two cups of hot water for tea, dropping in sachets from his dwindling stash and set them down across from each other.

By the time Jan turned the corner into the main area of the ship, Lucas was sat back, right arm hooked over the back rest, left leg crossed over the other, ankle to knee. He lowered orange-tinted lenses over his eyes and smiled.

“Welcome aboard,” he repeated, biting his cheek when he realized he’d already run through his script.

“You already said that,” Jan replied, voice smooth. Well, mostly smooth, with only a tiny catch at the end which could just be a bit of his old morning hoarseness. Jan’s mind was completely shielded—fuck he’d gotten good at that—but there was a twitch in his left pinkie and he hesitated before sitting. “I appreciate the hospitality,” he nodded before switching their cups and taking a slow sip from the one that had been in front of Lucas.

“Ah, ma cheri, you wound me…” He shook his head and took the other tea cup, blowing away the steam. “You still don’t trust me.” Lucas clucked his tongue, grateful he’d thought to don his glasses as his eyes burned in the attempt to keep his voice light. “Well?” He looked up over the lip of his cup between sips. “While your company is a pleasure as always…” They could both pretend Jan’s cheeks warmed from the heat of his tea. “You said you had something to discuss with me.”

Jan set down his cup and watched the steam rise. “To be completely honest with you, Luc, I’m not entirely sure why I’m here.”

All Lucas’ powers couldn’t stifle how much he wanted Jan to say his name again, how much he needed Jan to say his name again. He hid his face behind his cup and took another sip to buy time to settle his heart. “Interesting,” he murmured, cracked voice betraying him. Jan’s eyes shot up.

Lucas sat, silent and pinned down by his gaze, until Jan finally continued. “I suppose given everything that’s happened, I…” Jan addressed his cup, lifting it up for another slow sip. “I was so sure we’d done everything we could do to help Re. That we’d given him every safeguard, every protection possible. But…” He shook his head. “If I was wrong about that,” he whispered, more to himself than to Lucas. “What else have I been wrong about?”

“What’s happened?” Lucas leaned forward, reaching for Jan before he could even think to stop himself. “What’s wrong with Re?”

Jan leaned back, eyebrow raised, and sipped his tea. -”You don’t hear him?”- he asked silently.

Brow furrowed, Lucas closed his eyes and reached out. There was the buzz of Jan’s shield, a dark, staticy hole where his feelings should be. A couple asleep in their ship two platforms down. The rumble of families in the surrounding shelters. A little boy crying from a nightmare. And then…

Lucas gasped. Like finally noticing a song playing in the background, he suddenly registered the touch of Re’s mind in the distance. His cup clattered to the table and he leapt to his feet. Re! “You left him alone? Unshielded and alone and—”

“And happy,” Jan murmured to his cup, seated serenely across from him. “And not alone.”

Lucas slowly took his seat, stretching, feeling for any sense he could detect of Re’s thoughts over the distance. He’d moored this ship on the knife’s edge of his own abilities, near enough to hear everyone in HQ. Far enough he wouldn’t be too tempted to listen.

Re was completely unshielded but… he was calm. His thoughts rippled around him, gentle and rhythmic drops on a pond. Sleeping? Given the hour and the wordlessness of his thoughts, probably. A light sleep, no dreams yet, nothing that would trigger a strong emotional response at least. He was calm and content and… happy.

And Jan was right. Re was not alone.

“Is Ro—” He shook his head, answering his own question. No, if Ro had been with him, the boys most certainly would be up and making good trouble around—or outside—the house. No, he was with…

“He’s with Machina,” Jan answered.

“You left him alone with your twitchy bot?” Again, Lucas was on his feet, stomping toward the controls. “You trust him not to hurt him? I know you remember what hap—”

Jan followed and caught his arm, pulling him away from the pilot’s seat. His hand was warm through his gloves, gentle as it lingered on his forearm. “The Muse would never hurt Machina. Never intentionally.”

“I’m not talking about your fucking robot getting hurt! How do you know it won’t hurt Re?”

He never got to answer.

Lucas’ wrist buzzed half a second before a charge rocked the ship. “Get down!” he ordered and pushed Jan to the deck. Another blast hit the other side of the ship. 

The glow of his comm screen peeked out from under Jan’s sleeve and he pushed it back. Jan swore. “They’re close. Too many to count.”

Lucas nodded, shifting to tap at his own wrist. Bright white dots surrounded their location. The hull clanked, hurricane clamps tearing at the fuselage. “Damn.” 

Jan twisted beneath him, eyes wide and staring at his wrist. “You still wear your—”

He ignored the question and pushed to his feet before offering a hand to Jan. “You turned off your proximity alarm.”

“Had to,” he muttered, brushing imagined dust off his cloak. “It went off every day at the DC. Don’t avoid the question. Why do you still wear—”

Another blast rocked the ship. The corpos were getting bolder. And closer. A second blast was followed by a pained cry. They were now near enough to trigger the intent charges.

Lucas shook his head, eyeing the roof hatch. “We need to get out of here.”

The outer hull blew and jackboots tromped up the gangway, comms crackling. Lucas dropped the inner blast door just before they reached the top, then grabbed Jan and a pack. He sealed off the corridor from the inside just before the corpos entered the main control room.

They were now trapped inside the ship.

-“We need help,”- Jan corrected and pressed the HQ alert on his wrist. -“Now.”-

[polish-art-tournament]

round 1.7 poll 4

Panorama racławicka (Panorama of Racławice) by Wojciech Kossak and Jan Styka (and others), 1894:

propaganda: you HAVE to admire it. it's HUGE. the two famous painters who were in charge of the project fucking hated each other and were constantly bickering over who should be named as the main author. they were chasing each other with buckets of paint around the scaffolding. they were bullying their other collaborators. but the final product is so impressive <3

context: Panorama racławicka is basically a 360° view of the Battle of Racławice, one of the most famous battles of Polish history. It happened during the Kościuszko Uprising and is symbolically viewed as a step forward in the liberation of serfs bc they took an active part in it and were officially recognized for it by the uprising's government and some of them decorated etc etc. You can read about Bartosz Głowacki, a national hero and one of the decorated and liberated serfs here. This painting (which is ENORMOUS. its literally 15 x 114 metres. one hundred and fourteen.) was finished for the 100th anniversary of the battle.

Pochodnie Nerona (Nero's torches) by Henryk Siemiradzki, 1876:

propaganda: Siemiradzki..... you and your ancient roman fascination....... ilu. the small details and the decorations are so intricate and well done. the light is incredible. there is a TIGER. just lovely

[nesiacha]

The most epic deaths of revolutionaries (Not a very serious post or not a historical analysis. If you want a really serious post go your own way)

The Girondins go to the scaffold singing the Marseillaise. Jacques Roux manages to commit suicide by following the example of the Romans in my opinion, in order to refuse a verdict that he knows will be unfavorable. Apart from Hébert, the Hébertists die with dignity on the scaffold, notably Cloots with his good humor ( it seems) and Ronsin with his sentence that he would have pronounced you will be condemned. When you should have acted, you talked. "Know how to die. For my part, I swear that you shall not see me flinch. Strive to do the same" Danton "you will show my head to the people, it is worth it" with other people he accompanies he dies with dignity. Thermidor: most of the revolutionaries targeted mainly hesitate because of their legalism at the risk of their lives. One of the reasons that will facilitate their passage to the scaffold is that almost all die with dignity (unfortunately some die while being seriously injured) Charles Gilbert Romme, Goujon with Duquesnoy commit suicide by following the example of the Romans (in my opinion too) rather than being guillotined. Which avoided the pleasure for some chargognes to see them die on the scaffold. Babeuf and Darthé fail by committing suicide as the Romans did but no one can dispute their courage. Marshal Brune during the White Terror would have managed to remain dignified in the face of the royalists who came to kill him.

Seeing all this, we say to ourselves what courage. Who could surpass them in the face of their attitude when death threatens them? We found them :Louis Delgrès and his 300 companions who died on May 28, 1802 ! Yes, I tell myself that Marat was not wrong when he said that the blacks people surpassed those of Paris in courage (no, I have not forgotten you Monnereau, you too are one of those who died as courageously as Delgrès and his 300 companions)

P.S.: To be honest with the other revolutionaries mentioned before Delgrès and his companions, they could not have died in these conditions even if they had really wanted to.

[tadpole-apocalypse]

@grandmother-goblin tagged me to post 5 movies I’d love to show others; planned to post this last week but then I got hit by a car 😔

Those of you that know me well will understand I exercised great restraint with this list. I could have filled it all up with Neil Breen films, but I was good. 😇

On to the movies:

1. Liquid Sky. Sleazy nyc genderqueer sci fi. Killer soundtrack.

2. Petey Wheatstraw - Extremely funny movie with the greatest theme song of all time. Rudy Ray Moore’s best film imo; my brother and I quote this movie all the time.

3. The Devils - one of my favorite films ever, but very hard to find. My brother had to get a Korean release just to watch and the quality was so shitty 😭 Warner brothers won’t rerelease it because it’s too horny I guess

4. Time to Duel - I’ve made two separate friend groups watch this and it was a huge hit each time. Please watch this movie. Kaiba’s actor is on another level.

5. Bound - Butch Gina Gershon and Femme Jennifer Tilly. 🥵🥵🥵 also just an insanely slick and entertaining movie and you can see a lot of neat film making that they carried over to The Matrix

Ok I am going to tag @psalacanthea @spectator-eyes @vspin @mercymaker @collegeoflore @boghermit @omgkalyppso and @bhaalsdeepbat. I want to see all your picks if you choose to share 🤭

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

NASA's Roman space telescope's 'exoskeleton' whirls through major test

A major component of NASA's Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope just took a spin on the centrifuge at NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Maryland. Called the Outer Barrel Assembly, this piece of the observatory is designed to keep the telescope at a stable temperature and shield it from stray light.

The two-part spin test took place in a large, round test chamber. Stretching across the room, a 600,000-pound (272,000-kilogram) steel arm extends from a giant rotating bearing in the center of the floor.

The test itself is like a sophisticated version of a popular carnival attraction, designed to apply centrifugal force to the rider—in this case, the outer covering for Roman's telescope. It spun up to 18.4 rotations per minute. That may not sound like much, but it generated force equivalent to just over seven times Earth's gravity, or 7 g, and sent the assembly whipping around at 80 miles per hour.

"We couldn't test the entire Outer Barrel Assembly in the centrifuge in one piece because it's too large to fit in the room," said Jay Parker, product design lead for the assembly at Goddard. The structure stands about 17 feet (5 meters) tall and is about 13.5 feet (4 meters) wide. "It's designed a bit like a house on stilts, so we tested the 'house' and 'stilts' separately."

The "stilts" went first. Technically referred to as the elephant stand because of its similarity to structures used in circuses, this part of the assembly is designed to surround Roman's Wide Field Instrument and Coronagraph Instrument like scaffolding. It connects the upper portion of the Outer Barrel Assembly to the spacecraft bus, which will maneuver the observatory to its place in space and support it while there. The elephant stand was tested with weights attached to it to simulate the rest of the assembly's mass.

Next, the team tested the "house"—the shell and a connecting ring that surrounds the telescope. These parts of the assembly will ultimately be fitted with heaters to help ensure the telescope's mirrors won't experience wide temperature swings, which make materials expand and contract.

To further protect against temperature fluctuations, the Outer Barrel Assembly is mainly made of two types of carbon fibers mixed with reinforced plastic and connected with titanium end fittings. These materials are both stiff (so they won't warp or flex during temperature swings) and lightweight (reducing launch demands).

If you could peel back the side of the upper portion –– the house's "siding" –– you'd see another weight-reducing measure. Between the inner and outer panels, the material is structured like a honeycomb. This pattern is very strong and lowers weight by hollowing out portions of the interior.

Designed at Goddard and built by Applied Composites in Los Alamitos, California, Roman's Outer Barrel Assembly was delivered in pieces and then put together in a series of crane lifts in Goddard's largest clean room. It was partially disassembled for centrifuge testing, but will now be put back together and integrated with Roman's solar panels and Deployable Aperture Cover at the end of the year.

In 2025, these freshly integrated components will go through thermal vacuum testing together to ensure they will withstand the temperature and pressure environment of space. Then they'll move to a shake test to make sure they will hold up against the vibrations they'll experience during launch. Toward the end of next year, they will be integrated with the rest of the observatory.

IMAGE: This structure, called the Outer Barrel Assembly, will surround and protect NASA’s Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope from stray light that could interfere with its observations. In this photo, engineers prepare the assembly for testing. Credit: NASA/Chris Gunn

[bpod-bpod]

United for Division

Protein called FAM110A links two elements of the cell's inner scaffold protein network, filamentous actin and microtubules, to promote formation of structures that enable cell division called mitotic spindles

Read the published research article here

Image from work by Cecilia Aquino-Perez, Mahira Safaralizade and Roman Podhajecky, and colleagues

Cancer Cell Biology, Institute of Molecular Genetics, Czech Academy of Sciences, Prague, Czech Republic

Image originally published with a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0)

You can also follow BPoD on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook

[jeannereames]

weird question but what do you think Alexander would’ve thought of Machiavellian philosophy toward ruling? i feel like he employed some aspects of it throughout his life / career

A Machiavellian Alexander?

Because he didn’t write anything on the topic (that survives), it’s hard to know what Alexander’s theories on kingship/rule were, although I suspect he had theories, having been a student of Aristotle. Yet if some of the anecdotes about his days as a student can be believed, he resisted letting theory eat pragmatics—frustrating his teacher. (Although his teacher was more pragmatic than his teacher, Plato.) He purported to believe in what we might call “situational decision making.” As his time as the buck-stops person increased, he grew even more creative and less wedded to theoretical scaffolding. There was a lot of throwing ideas against a wall to see what stuck.

Although The Prince is Machiavelli’s best-known work, it’s actually atypical of his other writings. Dedicated to Lorenzo de’Medici, it was intended to teach rulers how to maintain power successfully. As such, it’s amoral (rather than immoral). A practical guide that divorced philosophic ethics from political theory. (To what degree he really believed it himself is, I understand, a point of contention.)

The Prince is the opposite of Plato—or Aristotle, for that matter. Rulers had been utilizing many of the ideas Machiavelli suggested, but nobody writing about politics advised them. Philosophers and political theorists had been trying to teach kings, tyrants, emperors, and other rulers to exercise power in moral ways, not amoral ones: Neo-Pythagorean idealized societies or Plato and his “philosopher king.” Stoics later went in one direction, Epicureans in another, and Neoplatonists in yet another, etc. That pattern would continue down into the medieval world. Until Machiavelli. (And even after him.)

To theorists, politics should be bound up with ethical thinking in order to create the best, most just society.

That’s the tradition Alexander was raised in, so I think he’d have been somewhere between offended and impressed by The Prince. He’d recognize the soundness of the advice, while being astonished anybody would set it down AS advice to be followed. I think he’d regard it as “last-ditch policy,” certainly when younger. Age and experience sanded down the idealism, but I don’t think it ever entirely sanded it off.

It’s hard to know just how devoted to philosophy Alexader actually was. This owes to the narrative programs inserted by later writers. For instance, Plutarch wanted to portray him as a “philosopher in armor.” I think most serious Alexander scholars these days dismiss that as a fictional portrait that served Plutarch’s moralizing and elevation of Hellenic culture during the Roman imperial period. But how much did the historical Alexander pursue philosophy? And did he do so for personal reasons (preference), or as a “show” to impress the Greeks (and is that division an artificial one, in itself)?

Some scholars, including Ernst Badian, Ian Worthington, and Peter Green would, I believe argue that he was pragmatic with little patience for philosophy unless it served his purposes: e.g., very The Prince-like. Others, including N.G.L. Hammond and Robin Lane Fox would rather see him in more Plutarchian terms. Yet others, such as Sabine Müller and Yossi Roismann, would regard him as a gifted statesman and diplomat, but not somebody marching around with his head in the clouds. I probably come closer to that latter view.

Yet I do think we need to take more seriously than we sometimes do the fact that he was Aristotle’s student. If he did not adopt some of Aristotle’s specific views on, say, non-Greeks, he would still have been a different sort of (Macedonian) king as a result of his education, probably more inclined to think about what he was doing in terms of political theory. If you wanted to put it in modern terms, we might regard him as a “first-generation college student.” Ha. And an enthusiastic one, not simply someone there to get a degree in pursuit of a higher-paying job. By all accounts, he appears to have been a deep-thinker—as was his father, albeit without the formal training. Philip worked out a lot of things about successful rule on his own…then made sure his son was given the proper educational scaffolding to make him even better at it.

So, while we may not have a good idea of Alexander’s personal political philosophies, and if—as he aged—he appears to have grown more cynical, I think it would be a mistake to see him as intentionally amoral in approach. He wanted to be, and saw himself as, a “good” (i.e., just) king. When he did “bad” (immoral or cruel) things, he would have blamed situational necessity.

In that, he’s like most people. By-in-large, when the average person behaves badly, they don’t see themselves as “bad” people, but as people who want to be good stuck between a rock and a hard place. “The devil/[circumstance] made me do it.” Alexander was no different.

[soysaucevictim]

Thinking abt the Sides' last names in my AUs just got me wanting to highlight the iZ!twins.

Their dad was Spanish (like Spain Spanish) new money, Rómulo Amós Ortiz. Pharmaceuticals CEO - the kinda asshole who would price hike insulin and epi-pens. 0/10, awful human being and distinctly NOT Dad of The Year material.

Their mom was Italian old money, Mara F. Ortiz-Vuitton. Besides heiress status, also a CEO to an MLM and also all around terrible woman. She (and Rómulo) left a lot of parenting to hired help.

The name alluding to fortune and luck didn't mean much - they were abusive to the twins in different directions - really driving that Golden Child and Black Sheep wedge something fierce since the two were at least 12. Things just went to shit after Remus fell off that scaffolding...

Roman left slowly burning that candle at both ends trying to please them, while being deeply emotionally neglected. Remus just stopped giving a shit, once he became The Designated Patient.

So was it any wonder why, for a time, those two had taken on pseudonymous surnames when they struck out for themselves?

Roman went the Nic Cage Route, not wanting play into nepotism on his birth name alone. Alejo had a nice ring to it. Being a "defender/helper" really vibed to him... a desire that the Dead Enders took advantage of.

Remus went for obfuscation and kind of crass for his "pedigree". He wanted fuck all to do with his family and went with Bacallao. Nothing fancier than a reference to fishing for cod.

[samders-sides]

The Hunt for Prince Roman - Chapter Two

Summary: Roman has been in the Imagination for two weeks straight and Virgil has grown concerned. What starts as a welfare check on the wayward Prince turns into a full on quest to find him because things…are not adding up.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51469459/chapters/130071607

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 -

Chapter Two: The President

Virgil could have killed him. Still might, actually, after all this was over.

And, as Virgil charged ahead on his mighty stead along the tar sealed road that led him through each town, edging towards that castle on the horizon, he just might kill Roman too for good measure.

He was sure he had blacked out when Bertram had said “We don’t have a Prince anymore.” Bertram, oblivious to Virgil’s impending panic attack, had kept babbling away. Virgil had barely heard him over the blood rushing in his head. Virgil had leapt up and grabbed Bertram by the high-vis-vest, gripping his shoulders in an effort to ground himself and understand.

“Woah there, friend,” Bertram gasped. There were some shouts from the other workers in the town centre, who had just noticed the commotion by the fountain. Bertram had waved them away. “Easy there, the old prince is fine. You really have been away a while then, huh?”

Virgil opened his eyes at that, staring at Betram’s concerned face, looking for a hint of a lie. He closed his eyes, and with a massive effort, let go of Bertram.

“I’ve been away for a while. Please tell me what has happened.”

Virgil just about growled from his saddle as he pushed through yet another town in the throes of an infrastructure upgrade. He needed to get a handle on himself. He had just about panicked twice over nothing…Virgil truly was on edge. All he wanted to do now was lay eyes on his bonehead Prince, tell him to send a letter every now and then, go home and settle into a nice bath.

Roman had disestablished the monarchy.

“Yeah, came as a huge surprise to all of us,” Bertram had explained. Somehow, the man produced a cup of tea and offered it to Virgil, who took it with shaky hands. They were both sitting on the side of the fountain. Virgil focused on the warmth seeping through the porcelain and into his hands, grounding himself in the feeling. “Out of nowhere, the Prince publicly announced that he would be abolishing the monarchy and establishing a democracy. It was a whole thing – billboards, debates, voting booths. I’m more of a traditionalist myself but, hey” Bertram shrugged, “so long as it doesn’t affect how I live my life too much I don’t mind so much what they call the man in charge.”

“So, the Prince is okay? Did he run in your elections?” Virgil had croaked.

Bertram patted Virgil on the back. “He’s fine. Sorry for the scare – guess you are a monarchist too, eh?” Bertram chuckled lightly, but then continued upon receiving a flat stare from Virgil. “Yes, the Prince contested the elections. We have a ‘President’ now.”

As Virgil and his horse (aptly named ‘Chestnut’ for the colour of its fur) cleared another town, Virgil couldn’t help but roll his eyes. There was enough politics in the mindscape without Princey rebranding himself as the President. Though, Virgil couldn’t deny the image of Roman in a traditional white business suit with a gold tie and red lapels wasn’t an unwelcome one…

As the castle loomed into view, Virgil started to notice that it too was undergoing massive infrastructure changes. There were at least five cranes that were busy moving stuff around. Virgil could see scaffolding in the distance where a new building had sprung up – a tower that looked like it would be bigger than the castle and that wouldn’t look out of place in New York City.

It didn’t sit right with Virgil.

Virgil was no fan of change, and this was all just feeling a bit much.

The streets leading up to the castle were oddly empty, but, Virgil reasoned, they may have all just got jobs in construction. Virgil left Chestnut with a stableboy and mustered what courage he could.

~

“I’m here to see the President.” Virgil tried to sound more confident than he felt.

The security guards looked at him doubtfully.

“Tell him that Virgil is here to see him.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

Virgil tried not to stare too hard. Appointment? Princy was leaning into this corporate rebuild a bit too much for Virgil’s liking.

“Yes,” Virgil lied, not wanting to waste anymore time. He had been in the imagination for several hours now when several minutes was all he had prepared himself for.

“Okay come right through!” The guard smiled. Virgil bit his tongue and made a mental note to tell Roman to fire this dude because he just let a random vaguely hostile stranger into the castle without so much as a background check or a pat down. Really, he could have been anyone.

Though, as they moved through the castle halls, Virgil caught sight of himself in a mirror on the wall. Not for the first time he wondered why more people didn’t question why he looked like a spitting image of Roman who had got lost in a Hot Topic store.

Virgil shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders.

The President’s office was about the only room not actively under construction. From the looks of things, it had been the first to face remodeling. If the imagination had plonked Virgil down straight into the office, he never would have thought that he was in the Disney castle.

The outer wall had been replaced with floor to ceiling glass, which overlooked the realm behind the castle. It was clear that a large modern city was springing up, the roads and traffic lights having been laid already and concrete foundations in varying states of completeness sketching out the future buildings that would rise on top of them. Virgil fought to keep his NUMTOT side down (that did NOT look like a walkable city) and focused on the office itself. Plush blue carpet had covered the worn stone floor. A deep brown mahogany desk stood in the centre, set up so the person had their back to the brand-new world springing up behind them. One wall was completely lined with a moving map of the kingdom, with little road cone markers signifying where work was being undertaken. There were so many road cones. Another wall was completely covered in a floor to ceiling bookcase, filled with books and knickknacks. A guest chair, far less grand than the imposing black chair behind the desk, sat facing the desk. Virgil was suddenly reminded of the principal’s office.

It was very un-Roman.

Virgil sighed again, tapping his foot with impatience. If Roman truly didn’t want to see him, surely he would simply eject him from the imagination rather than ghost him and wait for him to leave on his own. The Prince was stubborn, but not as stubborn as Virgil could be. Virgil would win that staring match any day of the week.

The door behind him swung open, revealing two stereotypical secret agents in black suits and sunglasses. Virgil bit back his annoyance and held his tongue, lest any snarky remarks escaped when that would definitely not be helpful.

He was just going to say hi to Roman, smack him over the head for the radio silence (and for the imagination being a dramatic little bitch for making him believe the Prince was dead instead of just saying they had changed political systems), tell him to write every now and then, and be on his way. This little trip into the imagination had been unsettling and jarring enough.

“Mister President,” one of the secret agents announced as they entered the room. Virgil could not repress his eye roll. The secret agents stepped aside.

The man who stood there adjusted his glasses, then his blue tie. Virgil started to laugh because damnit, this imagination was just not finished with him, was it?

Though a spitting image of Thomas, this man was certainly not Roman.

The non-Roman and Virgil stared at each other for a solid ten seconds.

“Leave us,” The President commanded to the agents finally, as he strode into the office and took his seat at the desk, gesturing Virgil to take the spare seat in the middle of the room. Virgil slowly moved towards the chair, turned it around and straddled it (because damnit he wasn’t about to sit in a normal position for the first time in his life for this bozo), not taking his eyes of the figure in front of him.

“I expect you are surprised to see me” the President mused. He truly looked and sounded exactly like Logan. If Virgil wasn’t absolutely sure that Logan would rather walk through fire than voluntarily play a part in the imagination, he would have believed it was Logan.

There was a lot to unpack here.

“Where is Roman?” Virgil growled. The non-Logan frowned confusedly.

“Are you referring to the former Prince?”

Virgil had to hold his tongue. He needed to keep his cool here, and his heart rate under control. But gods he never wanted anyone ever to describe Roman as the ‘former Prince’ ever again. Instead, he gave a tight nod.

Not-Logan smiled warmly – almost fondly. “Ah yes. The Prince. I used to be an advisor of sorts to him you know…not that he would listen very much.”

“Did you convince him to disestablish the monarchy?” Virgil couldn’t keep the note of accusation from his voice. This was so far from what he was expecting to find when he had ventured out from that hill.

“Heavens no,” Not-Logan chuckled. “Advice like that could have been seen as treason. No, it was as much a surprise to me as to everyone else when the former Prince made that particular announcement. A very brave choice, if you ask me. I always had admired the former Prince.”

The silence stretched between them. Non-Logan had a gentle smile on his face, not unlike a parent would have when explaining something to a child.

Virgil’s skin crawled.

Virgil could almost see the montage of events. Roman, stupid, self-conscious, fragile Roman, deciding that he needed to be more serious. Deciding that he needed to change his role up. So, he cast himself out into the unknown, giving up the title of Prince to go head-to-head in a popularity contest for his Kingdom with a faux-Logan.

And he lost.

The alarm bells ringing in Virgil’s head were difficult to hear coherent thoughts over. This could not be good. Roman must be absolutely crushed.

So why did the imagination look so perfect?

“Why did you do it?” Virgil asked instead, lifting his chin defiantly to glare at non-Logan, who blinked in surprise and adjusted his tie. “Why would you go up against someone you said you admired?”

“That is simple,” non-Logan smiled, a note of understanding in his tone. Virgil frowned. “The former Prince asked me too.”

Virgil felt like he had been doused in freezing water. He was out of his depth; he wasn’t sure why that was worse but that made it so much worse. He should leave, he should leave the imagination right now and get Patton and Logan and…

Virgil stared at the non-Logan as a cold stone dropped into his stomach. He couldn’t let anyone else see this. Roman was going through something here, something Virgil could not yet understand, but he didn’t have to understand fully to know that this was something raw and messy and that the worst thing for Roman would be if the others saw these exposed nerves. Roman would never forgive him…or at least would not trust him again in a hurry. A lump formed in Virgil’s throat.

“Do you know where he is now?”

Non-Logan cocked his head to the side, evaluating Virgil. “It appears you mean him no harm,” he commented. Virgil bit his tongue to stop himself from demanding what evidence he was basing that on, and would you be so lax in your security to allow someone who meant Roman harm to know this information…

“Nope.” Virgil grunted, popping the “p”.

“The former Prince informed me on his leave that he was intending to go on a quest to ‘find himself’ – though how one could lose oneself when he was standing in front of me is a mystery to me, I confess.” Non-Logan mused. “If you are searching for him, travelling to the fairy forest would be wise. It is where many a quest begins. Do you know of it?”

Virgil gave a slow nod, remembering the time Roman had taken him to the tree top café in the middle of the fairy forest for fairy tea. Virgil had yelled at Roman for a solid half an hour after Virgil had sprouted wings upon eating his first tea cake (because warn a dude first if you are going to change his body like that!), but he had secretly enjoyed the calmness and serenity of the forest (when he had stopped shouting).

“Here,” non-Logan said. Virgil looked up in surprise to see that the President was holding out something to Virgil. “The former Prince gave it to me on my first day in office. I think you should have it.”

Virgil blinked, forcibly reminding himself that it was not Logan before him. The real Logan would never give something that held clear significance and value to a stranger that had just barged into his office and demanded answers and vaguely accused him of regicide. Shaking himself again, he took the offered object and nodded his thanks. Virgil turned it over in his hands.

Video-game logic – accept quest items even when it made no logical sense that they would be offered for free or be lying about in abandoned boxes all over the show.

Virgil slid Roman’s crown into his satchel, swallowed the lump in his throat, and left without another word.

Next

[ineffablymanic]

Behind the Scenes and smol cut section of A@tB under the cut!

For the nerds who would like to know more (also I worked too hard on the background and I just wanna show it somewhere so here we go)

Déjà vu was first used in 1876. What can I say, Crowley has always been a trend setter 😌

Hor-Aha is considered the second pharaoh of the First Dynasty of Egypt. Ancient Egyptian retainer sacrifice was a type of human sacrifice in which pharaohs and occasionally other high court nobility had servants killed after the pharaohs' deaths to continue to serve them in the afterlife. In Egypt, the custom only existed during the First Dynasty, from about 3100 BC to 2900 BC.

Commodus was a Roman emperor 177-192 AD. Megalomanic dictator. Created a deific personality cult, performed as a gladiator in the Colosseum.

Gladiators weren't covered in oil. But it's hot, so... Shh

The Great Schism of 1054 is the break of communion between the Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches. Greek East (Byzantines) and Latin West (Romans) had a series of theological disputes for hundreds of years until they finally separated. I'm imagining this time period must've had a big overturn on the politics of Europa. I made the artist up, as well as the Phallus Bible (sadly).

Soho was not in fact a calm, hospitable area that agent was talking out of his ass 😂

The first attested use of the expression la petite mort in English was in 1572 with the meaning of "fainting fit". It later came to mean "nervous spasm" as well. The first attested use with the meaning of "orgasm" was in 1882. Mayhaps Aziraphale had something to do with that...

During the Reign of Terror, when noble heads rolled down the streets, folks working for them found themselves without a job. Their cooks soon invented à la carte, menu, to serve gourmet food to the lower classes. La Tour d’Argent sits at the Place de la Bastille since 1640, and played an active role in the conflicts of 1789 as a principal gathering site.

And here's what was cut from the end of chapter 1 due to repetition!

They left the massacre behind as the revolutionaries dragged Aziraphale’s executioner-to-be out to the scaffold.

(“Dressed like that, he was asking for trouble.”

Crowley looked straight at Aziraphale while saying it. They were both refreshed, not a sweat bead or streak of dirt in sight. Crowley's shades were back on and his curls looked immaculate once more. Aziraphale's new clothes were scene-appropriate, but the ghost weight of the shackles and the bites and bruises around his body still ached deliciously, underneath– Not to mention the dull, satisfying throb inside him. He wetted his lips, knowing it wasn't left unnoticed.)

Aziraphale tried his best to focus on the sunlight warming his face instead of the cacophony his other senses offered him, even if they were getting further away from the plaza. He tried to put some more, what is it called? Ah, pep in their step. 

“I suppose I should say thank you? For the uh, rescue.”

Crowley looked away and stayed silent, rubbing his arm. Aziraphale pitied him.

“Well at least let me offer you a meal. I think I know just the place.”

The demon turned to look back at him. His lopsided smile had Aziraphale relieved. “What’s for lunch?”

Aziraphale returned the smile in double. “I have it on good authority that their menu is ample enough for some crêpes.”

He also had a hankering for some fish.