#and claudius would be a head shorter

[wolframpant]

I, Claudius ♦ Favourite scenes

[kingliam2019]

One Night in Cordonia

Chapter 7 : Almost back to normal

Series: One Night in Cordonia, a @choicesprompts Round Robin Event.

Fandom: TRR so far, but others could be added in

Pairings: Various

Word count : ~ Rating: Mature

Warnings: talks about sex, innuendos, language

Prompt: Fantasy @choicesjunechallenge or @liaromancewriter.

A/N: This has been a whirlwind, and Loved every minute of it.Thanks for including me. My sincere thanks to @angelasscribbles and @lizzybeth1986 for being the force behind the scenes.

A/N 2: I really am sorry that this is shorter than I wanted but, I had a family matter come up and I wanted to get something out. Xo 

Next author: jerzwriter

Summary: It's Leo's social season. The day is Beaumont bash after the formal dinner is done and the royal couple has left. Anton sends his second in command Claudius to spread a fog "Death Smash" that would leave the guests paralyzed and he would attack. But the gas delivered was Shagging smog 2.0, by mistake, leading to a sexual frenzy amongst guests. Anton himself goes to check and falls prey to the gas. The only unaffected members are Max (immune), Leo (because he was in the gardens and Olivia (partially affected, trying to fight the effects)

After getting off the phone with his father, Leo went looking for Olivia and Max. Locating them he ordered them to gather up some of the Kings guards,” Liv, Max instruct the guards to gather everyone and lock them in all in separate rooms, I have the sex smog coming in an hour to reverse this fiasco but I need to get them separated so we don’t end up causing a huge scandal when they see who they are with.” “Okay we’re on it, come on Liv” Max called to Liv while on the phone to the second in command. 

Standing in the main room in Ramsford, Connie could only shake his head at the chaos he just walked into. “ Hey pop’s” Leo called to him. “ I’m working on getting them into separate rooms so once the fog gets here and hooked up we can hopefully get the shit show under control” “ Okay son plus I need to talk to Maxwell these Bash’s have been out of control in the last few years, I don’t mind them their great for relieving stress but this has gone too far.” “ Yea I know,” Leo gives him a sad look knowing that this will more than likely depress Max, scaling down the Legendary Bash.  

About an hour later, while Leo, Max, Connie and Liv were outside the Estate as the workers pumped in the Shag smog to try and reverse the effects it took on the party goers. Looking up into the windows of where they were locked in, Leo saw confusion in Liam’s eye’s as to what happened. 

#choicesprompts#round robin#round robin 2023#trr au#collaboration#trr#the royal romance#choices fic writers creations#cfwc fics of the week

[cxnsiglixrx]

Closed Starter

Claudius had truly no intention of showing up to any weddings or celebrations. But since he was a member of the Senate, he needed to. This was where most Senators (and their wives) went to make perhaps long lasting alliances. Tonight was no different. His close friend and ally in the Senate, Lepidus was getting married. While that enough was motive, Claudius had his own motives for attending. Among the guest list, was a man by the name of Livius. Now, Livius was not the focus of Claudius' attention, his wife was.

"Waiting on her again, are we?" Lepidus smacked his hand against Claudius' shoulder. The shorter man did not answer. "Seriously my friend, leave her be. Find yourself another wife." Lepidus stepped into Claudius' point of view.

"You cannot wait around for Livius to die, just so you can marry her."

"Can't I?"

Lepidus sighed, a shake of his head followed. "You're really stubborn, you know that? Claudius, Livius isn't going to take kindly to you sleeping with his wife. It does not bode well for us even." Claudius hated to admit that he had a point, but the young roman would not give up yet. Livius arrived, and so did his wife. The two made eye contact, and Claudius knew where to meet her.

As Lepidus distracted Livius, Claudius followed the beauty to the back rooms. "I was wondering if you would show up..." // @xx--ofmanythoughts--xx

[lizardrosen]

The Fruit of That Great Feast

Laertes, at four years old (and five months! he always insists), is not quite grown up enough to carry his baby sister. Thanks to some delicate negotiations and the unexpected alliance with Claudius, Ophelia’s prospective godfather, it is finally determined that if he sits in the middle of the couch and another adult is on hand to make sure he’s supporting her head, the baby can be lowered into his arms.

“After all, Hamlet wasn’t much older than Laertes here when I was born, and I only got dropped a couple times, but I turned out fine.” Gertrude gives him a reproving look and a swat on the arm. “My brother-in-law, the diplomat,” she announces, to general laughter.

Laertes isn’t laughing even a little; he looks horrified. “I would never let her fall, never ever!”

Claudius is quiet for a second. This kid is far too young to hear that sooner or later everyone gets hurt by someone they trusted and most people end up being the one to do the hurting at some point. Instead he ruffles his hair and says, “Of course you won’t, argonaut. You’re a lot smarter than my brother here.”

“It’s true,” says Hamlet, smiling good-naturedly.

“Okay, Laertes,” says Caroline. “Is that cushion comfy under your arm? Good, I’m going to hand her over now.”

Claudius glances at Polonius, who is alternately clasping his hands together and worrying at his front teeth with the knuckle of his thumb, and he rests a hand on his forearm. “You’re raising a fine boy,” he reminds him in a low voice. “Relax a little, and trust him.” Polonius lets out a held breath and presses his fingers over his chest in a silent gesture of thanks, and Claudius returns that private smile.

After a successful hand-off Laertes just keeps looking at Ophelia like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever touched and she probably is. He carefully holds out a finger for his sister to grasp and makes an amazed sound when she grabs it. “Was I this heavy when I was born?”

“More,” laughs his mother, “by two and a quarter ounces, but you were an inch shorter.

“Wow!” he gasps. “She looks so little, but she’s a whole little person!”

Claudius has never really minded that he’s not the oldest, but he does wonder how it would feel to have someone t protect and care for like this. Has Hamlet ever looked at him this way? He doubts it, just because roughhousing and academic oneupmanship has always been more their language.

“When do I get a turn to hold her?” he’s surprised to hear himself ask.

“Never!” Laertes says with a fierce little scowl. “She’s mine now and I’m never letting go of her!”

“It’s true, you’ll always belong to each other,” says Caroline. “But that kind of love only grows when you share it because that’s a bond strong enough to last even without touching. Like when it’s time for Mommy to feed her, that’s a time to let go.”

“Is that our cue to head out?” Claudius asks, preparing to stand up.

“If you don’t mind. Okay, Laertes, give Ophelia one last kiss and let me take her.”

“Can I stay to watch you feed her? I wanna know everything about her!”

Polonius has a small coughing fit. “Of course you don’t want to see something so girly and private. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Hey, now!” says Caroline. Claudius smirks to see them have a full argument of gestures and mouthed words literally over the kid’s head, even as he also wonders what it must feel like to be that much in tune with another person. Evidently Caroline wins because she says, “Sure, stick around for a bit. The rest of you, get out of here!”

As the four of them head out Gertrude catches him by the elbow so they can hang back behind Hamlet and Polonius. He tilts his head in question, but doesn’t doubt she has some good reason. “You are good at diplomacy.” She unconsciously touches her stomach, where she’s just starting to show. “I saw how you put everyone here at ease without even needing to think about it.”

She’s wrong. He’s thinking about that kind of thing all the damn time because otherwise there’s too many ways to get it wrong — but he knows how to accept a compliment when he gets one. “Where do you think I learned it, Gertrude?”

[duxfemina]

So do y'all wanna see my mental fan cast for the Pompeians as I write my books? Because that's what I feel like sharing tonight

Daddy Pompey aka Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus just with more auburn hued hair because we all know Pompeius has that ginger blond Alexander vibe going but like Lee Pace has the PERFECT chin and mouth to be Pompeius. Go look at Pompey's statues and imagine him as a younger man and you'll see it

Mucia Tertia mother of all three of Pompeius' children and such a force that not only did she raise them mostly by herself while he was at war but when her son is warring with the triumvirate they send her to talk with Sextus. She has the tragedy of outliving her ex-husband and her two sons. (Yes she's ginger too because I know my genetics and gotta keep that ginger blood strong so Pompeia can look just like grandad for plot purposes)

Sextus Pompeius Magnus Pius the sexy pirate king of Sicily. I will admit that this is mainly inspired by Hayden as RotS Anakin having the right color of hair and also the youthfulness. Sextus was stupidly young when he started kicking ass, just like his dad. Unfortunately for world history he lived an even shorter amount of time than his dad and was dead by 32 much like his dad's honorific namesake Alexander the Great

Fatherless by age six I have a whole story in my head that I've invented for Pompeia Magna daughter of Sextus and believe me it's not cheerful because what is in the Roman world. But she does have one true friend and he happens to be someone who is the most ride or die guy in Rome and will one day be the most powerful man in the empire

Tiberius Claudius Nero who has known Pompeia since they were toddlers together on Sicily when her father Sextus gave his parents refuge from Augustus' proscriptions. Yes Tiberius was a hottie. Fight me on this. Plus Cavill fits the Tiberius mould in the sense that everyone sees big hunky warrior but at heart they're just an absolute nerd. How Cavill is about video games would be Tiberius with Homer or something

[veil-of-exordia]

Headcanons for young (pre-Gertrude) Hamlet Sr., Claudius, and Polonius

Long post under cut (~900 words)

-Hamlet Sr. and Claudius had very neglectful parents, and they each coped in a different way. Hamlet found solace in self-discipline and military prowess, while Claudius enjoyed an active social life.

-Hamlet and Claudius were extremely protective of each other.

-While they had separate bedrooms, almost every night one of them would stay in the other's. Their parents couldn't care less, and the guards never dared to stop them. Claudius would tell his brother all the rumours from his friends (the guards and nobles), while Hamlet would talk about military strategy. They never found each other boring.

-What they did find boring, though, was Polonius. Before their parents died, neither Hamlet nor Claudius really paid attention to the boy slightly older than them roaming around the castle and observing conversations. On the few occasions they conversed with Polonius, Polonius spoke in such an unengaging way that Claudius fell asleep and Hamlet had to wake him up.

-Hamlet regularly sparred with every guard in the castle. By the age of twelve, he could take on three guards at once. Claudius always watched admiringly from the sidelines.

-As their parents died, Hamlet ascended to the throne. Initially Claudius was effectively his advisor, but the war with Norway kept both of them so busy that they decided they needed a third person to help them. Claudius had previously deduced that everyone in the castle was probably less intelligent than himself - except Polonius, who he hadn't interacted much with and was a mystery. Claudius and Hamlet agreed to take a gamble and make Polonius advisor.

-Polonius proved to have a wide breadth of knowledge, and was an incredibly helpful asset once the brothers could get past his tedious language. He streamlined the war and also established the truce with Norway after it.

-Hamlet would practice swordfighting in the castle during the war. Once he almost stabbed Polonius, who was spying on him through a curtain (yes). Polonius said he was trying to learn sword moves, so Hamlet agreed to recreationally spar with him on a regular basis. All Polonius knew was faux duel moves from theatre, but somehow Hamlet found him a more engaging opponent than many on the battlefield. Also, Polonius drops his purple prose and swears only during these spars.

-In one battle, Hamlet's leg was severely injured, and Claudius cried for an entire day while refusing to leave his bedside. Hamlet kept shooing him away, but they were fully aware they both cherished the other's presence. Also, Polonius purposely avoided attacking Hamlet's injured area in future spars.

-Claudius became taller than Hamlet after the injury, and this became a sort of inside joke between the two. Polonius is a head shorter than both of them.

-Once the war against Norway was over, the Denmark public thought Claudius's laid-back, caring personality was more fit to rule than Hamlet's disciplined, terse one. Claudius took a lot of work to convince everyone that Hamlet made a good king even in times of peace.

-Whenever someone asks him, Polonius claims his knowledge came from his college studies, but no one quite believes that a drama major is good for politics. Hamlet and Claudius are two of the few people who know that drama made Polonius's personality, while his knowledge came from spying.

-Claudius is very physically affectionate. He gives all the guards friendly shoulder hugs and handshakes. He clings to Hamlet whenever possible. After he grew close to Polonius, a very common sight in Elsinore was the three of them huddled together, with Claudius having one arm around Hamlet and the other around Polonius.

-Claudius prefers conversations to reading. Hamlet reads horror books. Polonius reads mythology for recreation but is willing to read anything.

-Hamlet somehow manages a strict sleep schedule from 8PM to 4AM. Claudius sleeps late whenever he has a lot of work to do. Polonius sleeps erratically because his mind never shuts up.

-None of them can cook, but Hamlet is the most helpful in the kitchen as he offers to wash and cut vegetables, while Polonius is the most disastrous because he always insists on trying to cook and burning the food. Hamlet and Claudius later assigned Reynaldo to Polonius because Reynaldo was the servant best at cooking.

-Hamlet and Claudius periodically have pillow fights. Once, Polonius visited their office only to find Claudius and Hamlet having a pillow fight. The brothers thought Polonius would be judgemental and start ranting, but Polonius just joined in.

-Polonius and Claudius had midnight conversations that slowly became a regular routine and started including more personal, less political subjects. Polonius liked to rant, and Claudius was a genuinely empathetic listener, so they got along very well and started growing closer. Obviously the highly perceptive Hamlet noticed, and he decided to declare that Polonius was family now at a breakfast without any context.

-Polonius is perpetually annoyed by and unable to relate to the brothers' conversations about their feelings for women and marriage prospects. Eventually, Polonius married a woman he liked platonically because he wished to raise children. Hamlet and Claudius were very surprised that Polonius, the person least interested in romance, entered a marriage before either of them did.

-Hamlet and Polonius play pranks on Claudius together, such as loosing his carpet and spraying excessive perfume on his bed. Claudius does not mind.

-Claudius and Hamlet were both very good-looking, and who was more handsome differed according to personal opinion. Claudius and Polonius thought Hamlet was more handsome, while Hamlet thought Claudius was.

-Most importantly, they all care deeply for each other.

[lmaowh-at]

Actually no I'm not done talking about gesher ragad and it's stage because I was there yesterday again and I got seats on the opposite side of where I was sitting last time. And the way to those seats goes through the stage

Me fangirling at this fact alone aside, I was sitting in the first row. The stage is maybe 5 centimeters above the floor, so when Ros and Guil were standing on the sidelines, giving space for the events in Hamlet play out in front of them without interrupting and being part of the story, they were standing on the same floor my feet were touching. They were on the same level as me. They were watching the play the same way I was watching it. *explodes*

In general this production omits a lot of parts that are taken straight out of Hamlet, removes characters like soldiers, replaces scenes from the main play where there's actually dialogue with shortened versions that have less text and more silent, absurd depictions of them, changes the order of lines and jokes and other scenes, some would say bastardizes the original, but I like it. I really really like it. Maybe I'm biased because it was my first exposure to ragad and I've only skimmed through the original play and didn't like the movie too much (I just don't understand how you can move this play to a different medium since it's so reliant on the fact that its a play) but I legit don't care AT ALL lmao I get to choose how I engage with media and nothing's stopping me. Especially since this production IS good

Some more stuff they did thats worth noticing I think: instead of the pile of corpses coming after Guil's last words, everyone dies on stage after the Player says his "death to all!" Speech. The tragedians do perform everyone's deaths like written in Stoppards play, but they mirror the deaths of the main characters that pile up in the middle of the stage as Ros and Guil are watching. Like when the tragedian that plays Claudius dies- so does actual Claudius that walks to the stage- they mirror each other's moves. Horatio isnt there. After that Ros and Guil say their final words and leave the stage, revealing a pile of corpses and two hanged silhouettes behind the curtains on the two exists from the stage. Then the lights go out, all of the characters are gone and the Player, together with Alfred, walk in, put two signs that say "ROS" and "GUIL", sit down to rest for couple of minutes and walk out. The end

Also, while they start with the usual flipping coin shanenigans, after three or four coins Ros and Guil exit the stage, the music becomes louder and all of the characters walk through the narrow road- Polonius, Ophelia, Gertrude, Claudius, Hamlet himself- as if they're re-caping the events of Hamlet- showing us the main heroes- just to go back to Ros and Guil, who are now on the 85th heads.

Aaaand Ros and Guil have a fun little tune they whistle to each other and a little dance they do throughout the play and right before they walk out of the stage for the final time. They also do it when all the actors come in for the applaudisments. My heart :'))

Oh also, their Player fucking lives in my head rent free. Doron Tavory you one hell of a guy

That's all. Fuck . Watching it again knowing what's it all about and noticing how the Player is messing with them (im paraphrasing but "damn it, he knows all the exists!" "Well of course I do, I've been here before", or the insaneeee scene they made at the end of the second act when the tragedians are playing the murder of gonzago to Ros and Guil and then Guil says that it can't end abruptly like that and then he reads out the foreshadowing to the third act on the boat. Or, of course, the ending.) And how the narrative warps around them and appreciating more of Rosencrantz's slapstick moments (the actor is shorter than Guil's by like 20 cm) and generally just. Remembering how I felt back then. God what an insane play

[ears-awake-eyes-opened]

Now or never

(Hayffie ff ❤️. I initially shied away from this prompt because I didn’t think I could write it in a way that felt interesting. But I ended up having a great time with it, so much fun that this became one of my longest one-shots. — I make no apologies for the length of my posts in the feed or in the tags. I don’t apologize for any aspect of my free expression. For personal reasons, I write on my phone using the tumblr app, and the limitations are what they are. Like the limitations of my disabled body are what they are. For prompts, I reblog the prompt along with the link to my fic in case anyone wishes to reblog something shorter. — I write for myself, for my love of the characters and the process. When people comment on, like, or reblog my posts, I view those interactions as unexpected gifts. I have such love for writing that I’d do it old-school like Anne Frank, without any audience beyond my journal itself. This blog has been that for me for over 5 years, my space for coming of age and processing intensities in a strained and oppressive midlife. — I’m inspired now by prompts much more than I have been in past fanfiction efforts. So, thank you to everyone who offers them. And when people are willing to slog through my long fics and other posts, that is fabulous devotion to the characters/issues that are important to me, and I feel good to know I’m not caring alone. — 💛 Kim)

***

His facial hair was rough against her lips. The sensation triggered fantasy which played out more readily if she didn’t have to look at him. So she kissed him with her eyes closed whenever they fucked around. He was the same height as Haymitch. When she wore 5-inch heels, those added to the feeling of intimacy. It wasn’t entirely real, but it felt better than loneliness.

Their relationship was discrete, of course. Mutual discretion was a condition she established before getting involved with anyone, especially someone as high-profile as Seneca Crane.

As far as Capitol society was concerned, their connection was primarily professional, with occasional dinners at expensive restaurants. It was an image they’d been comfortable projecting, and it wasn’t far from the truth.

In moments that weren’t overly physical, she enjoyed his eyes. Blueish-grey with a streak of emotion, they were familiar enough to help her pretend. That’s why she’d first invited Seneca up to her apartment in the fall — to have sex with Haymitch in fantasy.

The sex was good enough. He was gifted with his hands, though he smelled too much like her. She wondered if he wore the same cologne as she did. And his body frame was smaller than the one she actually wanted intimacy with. By November, they’d become a regular *good enough* thing.

A dozen years earlier, they’d been schoolmates at the Academy. He graduated two years before her. She was softer then but already a force to reckon with. He was shorter in those days, sharp, obsessed with tech design. Ambition was an attribute they shared, perhaps the only one.

By 30, he’d become one of the youngest Head Gamemakers in history. He enjoyed the rush of adrenaline he experienced when executing the Games, and he relished the opportunity for artistry. The thrill and beauty he saw in death made Effie uncomfortable, but she viewed it as part of the job. He carried out the president’s wishes, though he confided in her that he didn’t fully agree with the way Snow ruled Panem.

On an evening in late December, they walked along a garden path covered in trellises draped with strands of fairy lights. Effie kept her hands warm in her pockets. It had been a long day, and she was ready to be home in bed, asleep, alone.

“What do you think about marriage?” he asked. The question was slightly more inspiring than if he’d asked her what she thought about the weather.

“I haven’t given it much thought,” she answered honestly, leaving out her occasional ludicrous fantasies about having babies with tiny purple wigs and predispositions for alcoholism.

“A union could be advantageous for both our careers. The publicity could improve your chances of promotion to escort for an inlying district.”

“And what do you stand to gain from a *union*?”

“You’re iconic, Effie. You represent the Capitol with style and positivity, and you execute your work flawlessly. You’re in good favor with the president. You could be a wonderful ally for me,” You could be a buffer for me, he didn’t say.

“Is there anything more?”

“Like what?”

“Really, Seneca, is THIS how you’re proposing??”

“Well, our families would support us. And there’s the matter of sentiment.”

“Sentiment?”

“I like you. I care for you, of course.”

She thought of Haymitch’s words from last summer, the night they almost... but didn’t.

‘I like you too much,’ he’d said, ‘I can’t fuck around with you and pretend it’s nothing. And that’s how it would have to be. That’s the only way it could be.”

Venia and Octavia insisted Haymitch loved her, but she believed that was still a pipe dream. She could keep waiting in vain, or she could choose a more sensible path.

“And there’s this...” From his coat pocket, Seneca pulled a black velvet box and flipped it open. Effie’s jaw dropped. The diamond was huge. It was far and away the loveliest ring she’d seen. She looked in those blueish-grey eyes that reminded her a bit of everything she wanted that wasn’t accessible to her.

Seneca pressed, “Say yes, and the wedding can be one of the biggest events of the year, rivaling even the Games.”

She imagined what her dress would look like. He was saying the right words to tempt her. They didn’t love each other, but maybe she could look past that inconvenient reality. Sometimes people married for other reasons.

“The press would go crazy,” he continued, “There would be red carpet interviews. We could invite everyone who’s anyone: stylists, victors, even Snow.”

Victors... Would he show up to watch me get married? 6 months ago, Haymitch had asked her what she wanted. He’d unzipped her dress and touched her body. He’d taken off his shirt and shown her his scars. Then he effectively told her a relationship between them was never going to happen, and he held her hand as she fell asleep.

Damn him.

She took her left hand out of her pocket. “Let’s see how it fits.”

Seneca had investigated her ring size, so the fit was perfect.

“Let’s show him,” she said.

“Show who?”

“Them. Let’s show them all.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes. Let’s get married. ...This spring.” She could plan a wedding in 5 months, no problem. Isn’t this the time couples usually cry and leap into one another’s arms? Shouldn’t this occasion call for a show of passion?

“This spring it shall be then.” When Seneca kissed her, she closed her eyes and embraced the same fantasy as usual.

***

Haymitch rarely received mail beyond his compensatory income from the government. In March, when the post delivered an envelope addressed to him in gold ink, he almost tossed the thing straight into the trash, recognizing it as an invitation to a Capitol party. Then he saw the name “Trinket” and the return address of Effie’s family home.

What’s this? He opened it right there on the porch with uneasiness gnawing at his stomach.

“You are cordially invited to celebrate the marriage of

Euphemia Rosalind Trinket -and-

Seneca Lucius Crane

Saturday, the first of May

At 3 O’Clock in the afternoon

Palazzo Annaeus”

What the hell is THIS! His stomach churned, and he vomited up a pint of white liquor on the ground beside the porch.

Memories flooded in... tracing up the seams of her stockings, unhooking her garters, feeling her body without a corset, running his fingers through her hair as she curled up in bed, so soft. So damn soft. Fear had screamed warnings about getting attached to her. Fear was always screaming.

When those Games were done, he’d left the Capitol with a strained sadness between them, like a rubber band stretched too long. Today it snapped and smacked him in the face. He felt the sting of annoyance and regret.

Damn her.

He couldn’t fix this. The only thing left to do was decide whether or not he was willing to watch it happen. He would have burned the invitation in the fireplace if not for the P.S. in her obnoxiously perfect handwriting.

***

Seneca had been right about one thing. Effie’s parents were thrilled that she’d decided to marry one of *the Crane boys,* especially the Head Gamemaker. Historically the Cranes had been part of the old guard of the wealthy from the Capitol, and they’d successfully diversified their financial interests in the years following the Dark Days.

Her parents spared no expense for *the wedding of the decade.* Effie spent the winter so caught up in the comfort of validation and the thrill of event planning that most of the time she evaded the sense of dread that nagged her when she startled awake in the mornings.

When she’d addressed the invitations, she considered adding a postscript to Haymitch’s, either “Fuck you” or “I love you.” Both feelings were nonsensical and nonetheless true. In the end she’d written,

“H — Please come. — E”

She checked the mail each day for his response card among hundreds, but it never showed up. Figures. He probably threw it away.

She didn’t need anyone to *rescue* her from the fate she’d chosen. If she wanted to call off the wedding, she’d simply come up with a logical explanation to save face; she’d apologize to Seneca and her parents; she’d put a stop to all plans, and that would be that.

The phrase “Mayday mayday mayday” was a distress signal used by Capitol troops during the Dark Days. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d subconsciously scheduled her wedding on the first of May because, apart from the fine details, opulence, and attention, her heart wasn’t in this.

***

“We’re here at Pallazo Annaeus,” Claudius reported from the red carpet which had been rolled out along the walkway to the galleria of the Crane family mansion. “Just a short time from now, fashion icon and District 12 escort, Effie Trinket, will wed two-time Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane.”

“Isn’t this exciting!!” Caesar was in typical form. “The air is positively electric!”

“So much so that my hair is standing on end!”

“As is mine!! Thank goodness for hair products.”

“And wigs! We’re seeing all of the ABOVE as the guests arrive. What a crowd!”

Their interviews with attendees were concise, asking which stylists designed their gowns and suits, and if they had particular wishes to share with the couple.

“Now here comes... Is that?... It is! Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the second Quarter Quell.”

“How touching. One advisor for District 12 supporting the other on her special day.”

“I LOVE it!! Haymitch, do you have any words for the happy couple?”

Haymitch stomped past them without pause. He hadn’t entirely sobered up from the bottle of whiskey he drank on the train, and he didn’t even try to resist flipping Caesar off when asked the question.

“A man of few words,” Claudius covered for a shocked Caesar. “We never know what to expect from that one.”

“He certainly does keep us on our toes.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we have stylish shoes!”

“Indeed!” Each of them spun around on tiptoe, and the cameras zoomed in on their footwear as a distraction from Haymitch’s persistent middle finger.

Just beyond the entryway, the galleria was packed already. Guests were dressed in yards of fabric and large hats. Floral arrangements lined marble walls covered with paintings, some of which were probably older than Panem itself. Haymitch slipped into the first empty chair he spotted, ignoring the usher who asked him, “Are you here for the bride or the groom?”

The question pestered. The bride. Shit. I’m here for the bride.

***

With every detail attended to, Effie curled her fingers around her father’s arm in the vestibule. Flower girls and bridesmaids entered the galleria first, then it would be her turn.

“My princess is getting married in a palace.” Her father kissed her cheek.

“Daddy! Careful of my makeup. Photos aren’t being taken until afterward.”

“Of course. It’s YOUR perfect day.”

Effie had certainly made everything perfect, except for this unrelenting nausea and desire to run away. She forced herself to breathe slowly. The last thing she needed right now was to throw up, ruin her white gown, and have the press start a false rumor about pregnancy. She had no desire to have children with Seneca. She’d made that clear, and he agreed.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Her father calling her “sweetheart” made every discomfort worse. Clearly she thought of Haymitch.

“I’m trying to be alright... but I don’t know,” she confessed.

Her father wasn’t sure what to say. “It’s almost time to walk down the aisle. Is that what you want to do?”

He asked it like she had a choice, but it was too late for choices.

“Let’s go pay the piper!” As Effie started down the aisle on her father’s arm, she didn’t notice the splendor and fullness of the room, nor the oohs and aahs from standing friends and family. She didn’t notice the rose petals on the floor, nor her fiancé sweating like a pig about to be roasted alive with an apple in its mouth.

All she saw was Haymitch.

He stood at the edge of the aisle, in the middle of the room. In the years that she’d known him, he’d been clear about his disdain for Capitol events, yet here he was, no RSVP and very much himself in his regular clothes from District 12. She’d probably be irritated if she hadn’t missed him so much. He was standing right here, and she was still missing him. It took every ounce of restraint to not tell him so.

“Great dress, sweetheart.” He offered a subdued smile as she passed.

She looked back at him once, and her eyes felt like old glass, holding tears too hardened to fall. Then there was nothing to do but look forward.

***

Fear was screaming different words now at Haymitch. Stop this. This wedding. Stop this!

As she walked away from him, he could see that her dress had an open back from her waist to the top of her shoulder blades. The gap was bordered in ornate jewels, stitching, and fancy shit. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her skin, and he couldn’t stop thinking about touching her.

She glanced at him again as she handed her bouquet to a bridesmaid. Her eyes were pleading. He knew the look because of all the times he’d tried to ignore her feelings for him ...and his feelings for her.

The officiant addressed the audience, “We are gathered here today to join Effie and Seneca in matrimony. Family, friends, and honored guests, do you support this union and affirm that these two should be married today?”

Haymitch looked around as the audience responded in unison, "We do."

I don’t.

The officiant continued, “Will you surround this couple in love, offering them the joys of your friendship? Will you support this couple in their relationship? At times of conflict will you offer them the strength of your wisest counsel and the comfort of your thoughtful concern? At times of joy, will you celebrate with them, nourishing their love for one another?”

The automatons responded together again, "We will.”

Like hell I will.

“If any of you has a reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Haymitch sighed and shook his head. Someday he’d be the death of her, or she’d be the death of him. Maybe today was that day.

This felt like now or never. The bit of whiskey still in his veins helped it be now. He stood up and moved quickly down the aisle to the sound of gasps and murmurs all around him.

***

“What are you doing?” Effie was stunned as he gripped her wrist.

“Excuse us,” Haymitch said directly to Seneca, then he pulled Effie out of the room down a long hallway.

She went willingly, chastising him in hushed tones along the way. “Haymitch! This is highly inappropriate!”

“More inappropriate than us having this conversation in front of the entire Capitol?”

“What conversation?”

He pulled her into a room down the hall.

“Not so tight!”

He loosened his grasp on her wrist but didn’t let go.

“What are you doing, Effie?”

“Do I need to state the obvious?”

“Marriage?? Why are you even WITH him?”

“I don’t owe you explanations — or anything else for that matter.”

She was right. She owed him nothing. His edge softened, and he stroked her wrist with his thumb. “Why are you marrying somebody you didn’t even look at as you walked down that aisle?”

“I LOOKED at him.”

“For about five seconds, and what did you see?”

She hesitated, “He’s wearing a tie, not an ascot. We had a dispute about it this week, and I insisted he wear the tie.”

“That’s what you’re thinking about on your wedding day when you see the man you’re about to marry — a goddamn tie?”

“Why are YOU giving ME the third degree! What are YOU thinking about on my wedding day?”

“I’m thinking about how much I hate Seneca Crane. I don’t want him marrying you. I don’t want you fucking him.”

“Well, that ship sailed! We’ve been having sex for months, not that it’s any of your business!”

“Not my business?”

“Absolutely not!”

He was burning with a mix of emotions: anger, jealousy, frustration, confusion, desire, fear. “If it’s not my business, then why did you ask me to ‘please come’ today? What am I doing here? ...If it’s not my business, then why did reading your wedding invitation make me puke. Why can’t I stop thinking about you? ...If it’s not my business, then why do I want to be the one to take this dress off you. I keep holding your wrist because if I let go, I’m gonna touch you, and what would your *fiancé* think about that? What would YOU think about that?”

He’d never confessed so much to her all at once, and she was in a mild state of shock about it. “Last summer you told me if we ‘fucked around’ then you’d have to pretend it means nothing. You told me you can’t pretend that, so where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know, honey.”

“I think you do. ...Let go of my wrist.”

“I told you what’s gonna happen if I let go.”

“Then let it happen.”

In a duality of reluctance and eagerness, he let go of her wrist and caressed her through the open back of her dress. She shivered and leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her, touching every inch of skin he could reach.

The wig she wore resembled her actual hair color, light golden, like wheat before harvest. In this moment, she was an angel. He’d kiss her if she’d just shut up, but she had things to say too.

“If it’s not your business, then why am I still here with you instead of out there marrying Seneca?” Her tone softened. “Why do I close my eyes and picture you every time I kiss him and every time we have sex? ....If it’s not your business, then why do I miss you so much?”

“Jesus, Effie. What are you doing to me?”

“I don’t know, honey.”

“I think you do.”

***

From the doorway, Seneca cleared his throat. He’d been listening awhile. Effie tried to pull away from Haymitch, but first he had to untangle himself from the back of her dress.

“This isn’t quite what it looks like,” Effie laughed nervously.

“It looks like unfinished business,” Seneca said.

“Then it IS what it looks like,” Haymitch told him.

“Will you please excuse us?” Seneca asked, proper as fuck. “Effie and I have some things to discuss.”

“I’m not leaving.” Fear and desire for her wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll handle this,” she insisted. “Please wait in the hall.”

This was the Gamemaker’s house, his wedding, and his girl for god sake. What else could Haymitch do? Pull out his knife and slit the guy’s throat?? This was Effie’s world, not his. Without another word, he stepped out of the room, and he hated that she closed the door behind him.

Seneca confronted her, “I’ll say this quickly because our guests have already waited long enough. A marriage of convenience is prudent when the motivations for such a union are stronger than the desire for love. I’ve realized that’s not the case here. For me, and apparently not for you either.”

“Are you in love with someone else?”

“Someone my family regards as unsuitable. I’m sorry I didn’t speak about it sooner. I was afraid you wouldn’t understand.” He glanced at the door, “But I see that you do. Frankly, this interruption is an enormous relief.”

Effie was slightly miffed to realize that Seneca would not be pining for her, but the interruption did lift her feeling of dread. “I apologize as well. I haven’t been forthcoming with you, or with myself. What do we do now? The Capitol is expecting a wedding.”

“The Capitol is expecting a show, and they’re getting that. Let’s walk out there together and announce that we’ve decided to cancel the nuptials and move straight to the reception. It can still be the party of the year.”

“But my parents...”

“I’ll reimburse your father for his investment in this. It’s the right thing to do. I do care for you, Effie, but I should never have discussed marriage as a hypothetical, let alone proposed and let it get this far.”

He held out his hand. “Shall we? Before any more time passes.”

She threaded her fingers with his in solidarity.

When the door opened, Haymitch was still there in the hall, fuming now at the sight of them holding hands.

“Seneca, give me another minute,” she said.

He let go of her and took several steps away.

She touched Haymitch’s arm and spoke into his ear, “The wedding is off. But we need time to appease our families and everyone else. Meet me at 9 o’clock at The Popina on 6th St. Do you know the place?”

He’d never been there, but it was a good call. He doubted the press would look for him at a swanky wine bar. “I know the one.”

She whispered, “I said I don’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe me anything either. Regardless, this feeling between us isn’t going away.”

Seneca told him, “Keep following this hallway as it bends to the right. You’ll eventually reach a side door you can take out of here if you want...”

Haymitch didn’t trust him and didn’t want to leave.

“...Unless you’d prefer a walk back down the red carpet with the other guests.”

I don’t.

Effie urged him to go. “I need to set this right. Please don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”

“I don’t wanna run out in the middle of a pile of shit.”

“Language! This wedding is not a pile of anything. It’s an event we need to finish differently than expected. Will you trust me?”

“Fine.” He answered without conviction, turning away so he wouldn’t have to watch them link hands again. Holding the handle of the knife in his pocket, he followed the hallway to the side door and left all that nonsense behind him. Did he trust her?? If she walked into that bar tonight without a rock on her finger, then maybe he just might.

***

Afterward, the red carpet commentary indeed made for a more interesting show.

“The only thing more exciting than a wedding,” said Caesar, “Is a kiss at the altar between the bride and groom after they’ve CALLED OFF the ceremony!”

“You may now kiss the woman in white who is no longer your bride!”

“Oh, Claudius, you’re so cheeky!”

“I can honestly say I’ve never seen a couple more happy to be NOT married.”

“Did somebody bring the sun INSIDE the palace? Because they were positively glowing.”

“The reception is still on, and did you hear their words about it?”

“Caesar, I was on the edge of my seat, and I couldn’t miss them, but say them again.”

“Seneca began, ‘May 1st, May Day, is not just one of folktales. Mayday was a cry of distress during war, terrible war. The Capitol responded and transformed that distress into peace.’

“Then...”

“Then Effie continued, ‘Instead of celebrating a wedding, we’ve decided to transform the reception we’d planned into a festival honoring the glory of the Capitol. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever.’”

“Don’t you just love that?”

“I DO! I absolutely do!”

“Well, that’s the only ‘I do’ that we’ll be hearing this afternoon!”

Hysterical laughter ensued between the two.

“Claudius, the question on everyone’s mind revolves around the influence of a certain mentor from District 12.”

“Yes. Haymitch Abernathy interrupted the ceremony.”

“He pulled Effie away, and Seneca followed. When the couple returned hand-in-hand, they called off the wedding. The mystery is, what happened in between?”

“As you said earlier, we never know what to expect from Haymitch. That one is a wildcard.”

“We’ve been waiting for him to emerge from the palace so we can ask him, but as we noted before, he is a man of few words.”

“Maybe we’ll catch him at the reception.”

“The festival!”

“The festival, of course!”

***

By 10 o’clock, Haymitch had read the sign on the wall a hundred times. “Hedone says, ‘You can drink here for one; if you give two, you will drink better; if you give four, you will drink Falernian.”

‘Hedone’ he recognized as the Roman goddess of pleasure. He thought pleasure would be a fine devotion if it wasn’t pursued at the cost of other people’s lives or pursued to chase away demons. He was already chasing one bottle of Falernian with another. “Damn Capitol wine doesn’t get you drunk unless you chug two bottles. And this is the best they’ve got?”

He’d been there a couple of hours. During that time, his attention was divided between that sign reflecting on hedonism and the screen showing footage of Effie’s non-wedding reception.

They were *saving face* alright. Haymitch had rarely seen Effie kiss anyone, and tonight he’d watched her kiss her *former* fiancé every time someone clinked a glass. The kisses were pecks mostly, a game they were probably playing to host a fun party and show the Capitol there were no hard feelings between them. But as the kisses added up, Haymitch’s dislike for Seneca Crane became more palpable.

“Slide a bit,” she said, showing up beside him. She was hiding in a simple dress and a light layer of makeup. Her hair was pulled back beneath a scarf instead of a wig.

He scooted over, making room for her at his booth in back. “You’re late, sweetheart. Did Crane kiss all that makeup off your face?”

“And you’re drunk.” She caressed the back of his neck, content to be with him right now, drunk or not.

“Wasn’t drunk an hour ago after the first bottle of this Falernian shit. But the more you drink, the better it tastes.”

She drank from his glass, and he didn’t object. From his perspective right now, she could drink straight from his mouth or off his body.

He encircled her waist, pulling her as close as the setting allowed. He was relieved to see that she wasn’t married. His inhibitions were reduced, so she could do just about anything to him right now, and he wouldn’t object. He tried not to think about her having that kind of power.

She stroked his arm wrapped around her. “There’s a rumor circulating about you.”

“Oh yeah? What is it?” He kissed her neck after each question. “Do they think I’m fucking you?”

She giggled because the hair on his face tickled her skin and because she was anticipating his response. “Not quite, honey.”

“What then?”

“They think you’re fucking Seneca.”

“What the hell?!!”

“Caesar and Claudius predicted ‘the mentor from District 12 is having a torrid affair with the Head Gamemaker,’ and you pulled me away from the wedding in the hopes of taking my place at the altar.”

“They’re lunatics.”

“It’s a risky move breaking up a wedding. Who knows what people will say.”

“What do YOU say?”

“I say you look at my breasts far too often for you to be interested in Seneca Crane,” she chuckled.

“And what do you say about me breaking up your wedding?”

As she looked into his eyes, there was no approximation, no almost. It was a relief to not have to *pretend* that he was the one she wanted, but to just KNOW it. “I say, thank you. ...Sweetheart.”

What fantasies and real desires would be accessible with him? She’d know more in time.

[endlessflame]

Semi-Royal Wedding (TRR/TC&TF Crossover)

Prompt: Round 53 of #ChoicesCreates: Crossovers, hosted by @clonedhayden and @theroyalweisme

Summary: Bastien and Mara talk about Riley and Drake’s upcoming wedding and about their ancestors’ wedding centuries earlier.

Rating: T

Author’s note: The modern-day scenes are a follow-up to Changing of the Guard, and the medieval scene is a follow-up to Part 6  of  Shadow of the Crown.

The ball was coming to an end, and the guests were departing. Bastien watched Riley and Drake walk out together, hand in hand.

"They make a nice couple, don't they?"

Bastien looked to Mara as she approached. "They seem happy."

"Definitely." Mara moved closer and stood beside Bastien. "What a love story theirs is! She was a commoner and now she's nobility, and soon he'll be nobility too. And their wedding is going to be a big event. I bet nothing like that has ever happened before."

"Well, actually, something a bit like that did happen, centuries ago. Remember how I told you that we're descended from Queen Kenna and King Raydan?" As Mara nodded, Bastien continued. "Their grandson Julien Landais, the illegitimate son of their son Adrian, technically wasn't royalty. He was a bodyguard for his cousin Gabriel Drammir, who was also the grandson of King Tevan and Queen Zenobia. But when he got married, royals came from all over the Five Kingdoms. Commoner or not, he was the grandson of Kenna Rys. They got married right here in Fydelia. Well, it was Fydoria back then."

The wedding guests gathered inside Fydoria's castle. Kenna sat beside Raydan, feeling emotional. Soon their grandson would be a married man. It had only been a couple of years since they had learned of his existence and welcomed him into the family, and now they were gaining a new family member.

Julien stood at the front of the room, with Adrian by his side. Seeing them next to each other, Kenna was struck by the resemblance between them. Julien's hair was shorter and not quite as dark, but otherwise they looked very much alike. And Adrian looked so much like Raydan.

Julien's bride, Susanna Ward, began to walk to the front of the room, accompanied by her father Edwin, one of Tevan and Zenobia's guards. She wore an exquisite white dress that looked fit for royalty, and an amethyst and sapphire necklace that Kenna had given her as a wedding gift, to symbolize both Fydoria and Stormholt. When Susanna reached Julien's side, they gazed lovingly into each other's eyes.

Jackson had come from Stormholt to perform the ceremony. In addition to marrying Kenna and Raydan, he had also married most of their children to their spouses.  It had become a family tradition. Only their youngest, Leonidas, had been married by someone else, since he had married in Ducitora. He began to speak the words he had said so many times before. "We gather here today to join these two souls in sacred covenant, and pay witness to their vows."

Julien and Susanna pledged their love to each other, and once Jackson pronounced their union, they kissed passionately. When they finally broke apart, they turned to face the guests, joined hands, and began to walk towards the castle door. Everyone headed out to the Fydorian gardens for the reception. 

A large number of guests had come from all over. Of course, many of them were family. Kenna and Raydan's five children were all there with their spouses and children. Their daughter Adelia had married Zenon Drammir, son of Tevan and Zenobia, and Julien worked for them, so the Fydorian royal family had been happy to host the wedding. Adrian had married Claudius Umad III's daughter Ciara. Ciara's family was present too; after all, Julien was Ciara's stepson and the half-brother of her children. Their daughter Gabrielle had married King Diavolos' son Damianos, and the rest of the Nevrakis family had come with them. Their daughter Marcelline had married Koa Keawe, son of Noa, and his family was also there. Even Leonidas' father-in-law, Jorrin Kal, was there, since Lia and Whitlock had come. Adder had come from Lykos for her great-nephew's wedding. Many of their other longtime friends were in attendance: Dom, Sei, Annelyse, Val, and others. Naturally, Susanna's family and friends and all the Fydorian guards were there.

Kenna and Raydan made their way over to the newlyweds. Kenna hugged Julien, then turned to Susanna. "Welcome to the family."

Susanna smiled. "Thank you, Queen Kenna."

"You don't need to be so formal. You're one of us." Kenna gave Susanna a hug.

"Interesting," Mara said. "A bodyguard's wedding was practically a royal affair. Could you imagine one of us having a wedding like that?"

At those words, Bastien wondered what might have happened if Drake hadn't proposed to Riley. Would she have eventually made a different choice? Could they have ended up together? Bastien had never really expected to have a future with her, but as they had grown closer, his feelings had deepened. Since both Liam and Drake loved her, he didn't dare express his feelings openly, but if the time ever came when they were both over her, maybe he would have a chance. He knew she felt something for him. Maybe she still did.

"Bastien? You OK?" Mara looked to him.

"My leg hurts." Although it was true, it was also a convenient excuse. "I should get some rest."

She nodded. "It's late anyway. Good night."

They parted ways, and soon Bastien was asleep, dreaming of Riley.      

[zergvsgenin]

Stupid Height Comparisons, Part Two

Continuing on from this mire of madness.

Moving on from giant things, we go to a “slightly” smaller scale: People.  So I decided to take a look at notable individuals off the top of my head.

1st Cour: Kazuma Kiryu (Yakuza), Anzu Futaba (The iDOLM@STER Cinderella Girls), Kirari Moroboshi (also Cinderella Girls), Goro Majima (Yakuza), Master Chief (Halo), Jeremy Dooley (Achievement Hunter)

By default, Kiryu (184 cm) towers over most random schmos, with the surprising exception of most other important characters in his home series.  Majima is only a relative hair taller (186 cm), but the both of them are marginally shorter than the adorable colossus that is Kirarin (186.2 cm).  All three are shorter than the ever-iconic Master Chief (210.8 cm), but anyone sufficiently versed in Halo lore knows that SPARTANs are huge by default, at least before the UNSC started up future SPARTAN generations.  And... poor freakin’ Anzu (139 cm).  That feel when a girl one year away from being legal looks like a baby.  Even Jeremy (5′ 4″ -> 162.6 cm) is taller than she is.

2nd Cour: Artoria (Fate/stay night), Medusa (also FSN), Nero Claudius (Fate/EXTRA), Solid Snake (Metal Gear), Tamamo no Mae (Fate/EXTRA), T-280 Space Construction Vehicle (or, SCV for short; StarCraft)

I guess the SCV (somewhere over 12′, but I put it down to just 12′ for good measure -> 365.8 cm) is a slight cheat, since it’s a whole vehicle as opposed to a guy in a suit, but whatever.  Saber Nero is also tiny as hell (150 cm), but not, like, Anzu tiny.  I still consider her pretty small and easy to hide.  OG Saber (154 cm) is taller, and I dare say a little closer to average.  Tamamo comes closer to tallness (163 cm), but while we’re on the subject of Fate... if Medusa is as tall as she is (172 cm), what would her sisters look like if they didn’t constantly look like little girls?  Would they be closer to Snake (184 cm, same as Kiryu above)?  Who knows.

[apostlesimbamakonese]

Should Christians Celebrate Valentines Day? Why Or Why Not Apostle Simbarashe Makonese Valentine's Day, also called Saint Valentine's Day or the Feast of Saint Valentine, is a holiday celebrated annually on February 14 around the world. *The Origins of Valentine’s Day* There was an ancient Roman festival called Lupercalia that was celebrated from 13th to 15th of February. It was a purification and fertility ceremony. To start the festival, members of the Luperci, an order of Roman priests, would gather at a sacred cave where the infants Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, were believed to have been cared for by a she-wolf or lupa. It was held in honour of Lupercus, the winter wolf and pagan god of agriculture and shepherds. The Luperci priests would sacrifice a goat, for fertility, and a dog, for purification, in this cave, located on Palatine Hill, the place where Rome was founded. They would then strip the goat’s hide into strips, dip them into the sacrificial blood and take to the streets, gently slapping both women and crop fields with the goat hide. Far from being fearful, Roman women welcomed the touch of the hides because it was believed to make them more fertile in the coming year. The goatskins were called _‘februa,’_ which means to make clean and from which the name of the month February comes. Later in the day, according to legend, all the young women in the city would place their names in a big pot. The city’s bachelors would each choose a name and become paired for the year with his chosen woman. At one time, Roman calendar started the year in March. February was originally the 12th month of the year, and considered less important, hence the month of February had been robbed by the Caesars and had only 28 days. This is also why we add a day to make February have 29 days in leap years, as it was originally adding it to the end of the year. The Romans believed that every month had a pagan spirit or god which gained in strength and reached its peak of power at the ides of the month, which was in the middle, around the 15th. These days were considered a good time to make decisions, when the omens were good, and people would be blessed in their decisions by the pagan gods of Rome. So the ‘ides of February’ became the 14th day of the month, as it was shorter. Since the Ides of a month was celebrated on the preceding eve, the month of February was unique, because it was the 13th day that became the eve of the Ides that month, and it became a very important pagan holiday in the Empire of Rome. It was in A.D. 496 that Pope Gelasius established St. Valentine’s Day to convert this pagan Roman fertility festival into a Christian holiday, therefore retaining its attractions and making it easier for pagan people to accept Christianity. *Saint Valentine* St. Valentine is believed to have been a priest during the third century in Rome. After Emperor Claudius II declared single men made better soldiers, he outlawed marriage for young men. Valentine went behind Emperor Claudius’ law and performed marriages in secret. When this was discovered, Claudius had him put to death. Valentine was being honoured by this day by Pope Gelasius, since he was martyred on 14th February. Other stories suggested that Valentine helped Christians to escape Roman prisons. In this story, Valentine was imprisoned when he sent the very first valentine’s letter to a young lady. It is believed he sent it to his jailor’s daughter. Before his death, it is believed he wrote her another letter and signed it, ‘From your Valentine.’ By the time the middle ages came around, St. Valentine had become a popular saint. Although we do not know if these stories are true, St. Valentine is still viewed as a romantic saint who helped to start Valentine’s Day. *Babylonian Roots - The Connection with Nimrod* The Romans were continuing to celebrate the Valentine ’s Day in honour of someone who lived much earlier. The first world ruler was called Nimrod, a mighty hunter who also built Babylon and the Tower of Babel. Gen 10:8-10 says, _“Cush begot Nimrod; he began to be a mighty one on the earth. He was a mighty hunter before the Lord; therefore it is said, ‘Like Nimrod the mighty hunter before the Lord.’ And the beginning of his kingdom was Babel, Erech, Accad, and Calneh, in the land of Shinar.”_ From other historical sources we learn more about Nimrod. He was also known as Saturn, the Roman-Babylonian god who hid from his pursuers in a secret place. The Latin word Saturn is derived from the Semitic-speaking Babylonians. It means ‘to be hid, hide self, secret, conceal.’ According to ancient tradition, Saturn (Nimrod) fled from his pursuers to Italy. The Apennine Mountains of Italy were anciently named the mountains of Nimrod. Nimrod briefly hid out at the site where Rome was later built. The ancient name of Rome, before it was rebuilt in 753 B.C., was Saturnia: the site of Saturn’s hiding. There he was found and killed for his crimes, by Shem, son of Noah. Later, in Constantine’s day, Nimrod was made a saint of the Catholic Church, and they continued to honour him under the name of another Christian martyr called St. Valentine. The name Valentine has as its root the word _‘valens,’_ which means strength in Latin. Valentine was someone strong, a ‘mighty hunter.’ In Rome Valentine was also called ‘Ba’alentine’ to commemorate ‘Ba’al’ the god of sexual desire, and another name for satan or a demon. Valentine’s Day is another custom birthed at the Tower of Babel, which the Papacy has made an official Roman Catholic holiday. The Roman Catholic Church believes that the Pope is the living reincarnation of Nimrod, the world’s first ruler, hence their desire to make the Pope the Emperor of the whole world. Nimrod (known as Ba’al and the sun-god of the ancient pagans) was said to have been born at the Winter solstice. In ancient times the solstice occurred on 6th of January and his birthday therefore was celebrated on that day. Later, as the solstice changed, it was celebrated on 25th December. It was the custom of antiquity for the mother of a male child to present herself for purification on the 40th day after the day of birth. The 40th day after 6th January takes us to 15th February, the celebration of which began on the evening of 14th February, the Lupercalia or St. Valentine’s Day. On this day in February in the ancient world, Semiramis, the mother of Nimrod, was said to have been purified and to have appeared for the first time in public with her son as the original ‘mother and child’ - images of which continue to be popular in the Roman Catholic Church and other pagan imagery. Another name for Nimrod as a child was ‘Cupid’ which means ‘desire.’ It is said that when Nimrod’s mother saw him, she lusted after him. Nimrod became her Cupid, her desired one, and later her Valentine! So evil was Nimrod’s mother Semiramis that she married her own son! In ancient Egypt Nimrod was known as Osiris, and Semiramis was known as Isis. Inscribed on the ancient Egyptian monuments are inscriptions that Osiris was ‘the husband of his mother.’ As Nimrod grew up, he became the child-hero of many women who desired him. He was their Cupid. Nimrod was also known as Ba’al, and the ancient word for heart was _‘bal,’_ which is similar to Ba’al. Hence the significance of the heart used in the celebration of Saint Valentine’s Day is a reference to women desiring Nimrod. *Valentine’s Day: Through the Decades* In the 19th century, Valentine’s cards became popular. It started off with handwritten cards and then mass-produced cards became popular. They began making the cards in factories due to the high demand. The cards were made with lace and ribbon. The first box of chocolates was made in 1868 by a company called Cadbury. The boxes were called “Fancy Boxes.” Halfway through the 20th century, exchanging cards along with gifts, like chocolate, became normal. Poems have also been apart of Valentine’s Day since the beginning. People used to submit poems they wrote for their significant other to the local newspaper in hopes it would be published. Newspapers would have whole sections dedicated to poems and short love notes for significant others for Valentine’s Day. People would search through Valentine’s Day cards to find one with the right poem inside of it. *Valentine’s Day: Today* Today, Valentine’s Day is a celebration of love between couples and lovers. People express their love to their significant other, friends, and family by purchasing candy, stuffed animals, or chocolate-covered strawberries with Valentine’s Day card attached to it. *Should Christians Celebrate Valentine’s Day?* First of all, Christianity in the New Testament is not a life of ‘do’s’ and ‘don’ts.’ No one has the power and authority of scripture to command God’s people to celebrate or not to celebrate any holiday or commandments of the Law. Col 2:16-23 (CEV) says, _“Don't let anyone tell you what you must eat or drink. Don't let them say that you must celebrate the New Moon festival, the Sabbath, or any other festival. These things are only a shadow of what was to come. But Christ is real! Don't be cheated by people who make a show of acting humble and who worship angels. They brag about seeing visions. But it is all nonsense, because their minds are filled with selfish desires. They are no longer part of Christ, who is the head of the whole body. Christ gives the body its strength, and he uses its joints and muscles to hold it together, as it grows by the power of God. You died with Christ. Now the forces of the universe don't have any power over you. Why do you live as if you had to obey such rules as, "Don't handle this. Don't taste that. Don't touch this."? After these things are used, they are no longer good for anything. So why be bothered with the rules that humans have made up? Obeying these rules may seem to be the smart thing to do. They appear to make you love God more and to be very humble and to have control over your body. But they don't really have any power over our desires.”_ Whatever your personal position concerning Valentine’s Day is doesn’t matter, what matters is in whose honour you celebrate or don’t celebrate it. Rom 14:5-6 (ESV) says, _“One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. The one who observes the day, observes it in honor of the Lord. The one who eats, eats in honor of the Lord, since he gives thanks to God, while the one who abstains, abstains in honor of the Lord and gives thanks to God.”_ Many Christians use Valentine’s Day to show their love for one another in a godly manner, and they don’t care about its evil roots and spiritual association - and this is a good and commendable thing. Rom 12:10 says, _“Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.”_ Christians are free to celebrate Valentine’s Day in a way that honours God if they want to. There is nothing wrong with sending someone a card and giving them flowers or chocolate to show your love and appreciation for them. Some Christians don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day because it’s too commercialized and it has pagan roots. What you believe about Valentine’s Day makes it clean or unclean to you. Celebrating Valentine’s Day itself doesn’t make you unclean, but if you believe that you will dishonour the Lord and worship the devil by the celebration then you need to avoid it. It a sin to do anything that brings condemnation in your heart, for it is not of faith. Rom 14:14 (ESV) says, _“I know and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself, but it is unclean for anyone who thinks it unclean,”_ And Rom 14:23 (ESV) says, _“But whoever has doubts is condemned if he eats, because the eating is not from faith. For whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.”_ But though your own conscience may clear you to celebrate Valentine’s Day in a good way, you need to first consider how other believers of weaker faith around you may feel. If you have brethren of weaker faith who will be disturbed by your freedom to celebrate Valentine’s Day with your loved one, rather stop or do it secretly. Valentine’s Day is not big enough to offend fellow Christians for. Rom 14:15 (ESV) says, _“For if your brother is grieved by what you eat, you are no longer walking in love. By what you eat, do not destroy the one for whom Christ died,”_ And Rom 14:19-22 (ESV) says, _“So then let us pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding. Do not, for the sake of food, destroy the work of God. Everything is indeed clean, but it is wrong for anyone to make another stumble by what he eats. It is good not to eat meat or drink wine or do anything that causes your brother to stumble. The faith that you have, keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the one who has no reason to pass judgment on himself for what he approves.”_ For this reason I encourage Christians not to celebrate Valentine’s Day publicly, especially on Social Media – you never know how many fellow Christians your simple and innocent celebration may cause to fall in sin.

[verdiprati]

Hi there! (I love this blog btw, God bless) I'm not an opera expert, hence the anon, but a theatre buff who would very much like to hear your thoughts on Brett Dean's Hamlet if you feel like it ...

Greetings, Anon! Thank you for the compliment on my blog, and thanks for sending me a question! I like to chat and discuss stuff.

I’m not sure if you’ve seen Brett Dean’s Hamlet or not so I am not sure how much context I need to give for my remarks. I will take a stab at this, though.

The first thing I’d observe about Dean’s Hamlet is that it assumes its audience is already very familiar with the play. I think it’s watchable even if you do not know the play well, but sort of like Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, it is aimed at people who have probably read the play in school and seen multiple stage performances and/or movie adaptations of it, and who may be able to quote some of the more famous lines from memory. Hamlet is one of the most performed and most adapted pieces of theater in the world; Brett Dean and the librettist Matthew Jocelyn are well aware of that, and do not respond by trying to make the ultimate, most perfect adaptation, but rather by making something new yet recognizable, with plenty of in-jokes. 

As you may know, they sort of put the text(s) through a blender. Many famous lines and familiar characters were completely cut out; other lines were re-ordered and re-assigned. A chorus, nonexistent in the Shakespeare play, was added; as well as making up the court of Elsinore, it functions like a classic Greek chorus, commenting on and amplifying the action, and also like an extension of the orchestra, sometimes adding eerie vocal effects to the overall tapestry of sound in the auditorium. The roles of Horatio and Marcellus are greatly reduced in the Dean/Jocelyn Hamlet while the presence of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern is increased in proportion to (what is left of) the rest of the play.

Probably my favorite thing about the Dean/Jocelyn adaptation of Hamlet is the fact that they deliberately selected bits and pieces of language from all three of the textual witnesses, including the so-called “bad quarto.” To back up and explain a little bit (with apologies if you know this stuff already): there is no one text of Hamlet. As with all the rest of Shakespeare’s plays, we have no manuscript in Shakespeare’s hand. What we have are various early printed editions of Shakespeare’s plays that could plausibly, in one way or another, have derived from a manuscript (or multiple manuscripts!) written by Shakespeare. In the case of Hamlet, there’s the 1603 quarto edition (Q1), the 1604 quarto (Q2), and the version included in the 1623 First Folio of Shakespeare’s plays (F1). The texts of Q2 and F1 are largely similar to each other and most modern editions of Hamlet are based on a melding of them, but Q1 is substantially shorter than the other two texts, a couple of the characters have different names, and some of the speeches are chopped up in ways that seem clearly erroneous (Hamlet’s “To be or not to be” speech is notoriously muddled in Q1). Thus Q1 has come to be known as a “bad quarto” and has traditionally been disparaged and discarded by editors trying to piece together an authoritatively Shakespearean version of Hamlet. 

There are various theories of how Q1 came to be so “bad.” I did my undergraduate thesis on the so-called “bad quarto” of Romeo and Juliet, so I spent a few months reading as much scholarship on the “bad quartos” as I could get my hands on. Some of the “bad quarto” theories are kind of crackpot. The generally-accepted explanation for how these texts came into existence, though, is piracy by memorial reconstruction: the idea is that a couple of actors in Shakespeare’s company would go to a printer and recite as much of the play as they could from memory. They would report their own parts pretty reliably, and they would have fair-to-good recall of other actors’ lines from the scenes they were in, but their recall would degrade for scenes where they were offstage. Moreover, cuts and other changes to the text might have been made in the theater in the process of bringing the play to the stage; these would be reflected in the “bad quarto” but not in other versions of the text deriving more directly from a manuscript penned by Shakespeare. On the plus side, the actors would sometimes supply stage directions in the “bad quartos” that were never specified in other textual witnesses, giving us some valuable clues about the action Shakespeare’s original audiences might actually have seen on the stage.

In recent years, there’s been some interest in reviving the so-called “bad quartos” as performance texts, with an eye towards accessing more “theatrical” versions of Shakespeare’s plays: my interest in the “bad quartos” was first hooked when I met a scholar of early modern performance studies who was directing a “bad quarto” performance of Romeo and Juliet at Oxford in the late ′90s. After finishing my Romeo and Juliet undergrad thesis, I headed off to a graduate program known for its strengths in textual studies, intending to continue in this academic vein. I actually ended up changing fields for my dissertation but I took enough graduate coursework in bibliography, textual criticism, and scholarly editing to achieve geekgasm when Dean and Jocelyn had characters alternately singing “solid” and “sullied”—a reference to a notorious editorial crux in Hamlet, one of the most famous scholarly editing problems of all time. (Here is just one person’s take on the matter.) I really enjoyed the fact that they not only used bits and pieces of Hamlet Q1 on an equal footing with pieces of Q2 and F1 but also took the spirit of a “theatrical” reading of the bad quartos as justification for their adaptation: in cutting and reordering the Hamlet scripts and reassigning many words to other characters, they were not doing anything that Shakespeare’s own company of actors didn’t do. (They did a lot more of it, though!)

Witty and intriguing little turns in the Dean/Jocelyn adaptation flew by too quickly for me to remember them all, but I remember having the impression that their version of Hamlet did a number of things to foreground the theatrical themes of the play. For instance, the whole episode of Hamlet’s trip to England was cut, but the play-within-a-play received lavish attention. (Amber Treadway composed an excellent tweet on “the most meta players scene ever.”) One tiny detail that I especially liked: Hamlet’s line “Do not saw the air too much with your hand,” from his instructions to the players, was relocated to the final duel, where it became a taunt from Hamlet to Laertes, calling attention to the aesthetic aspect of Laertes’ performance as a fencer.

By reducing the cast of soloists, minimizing some of the secondary roles, and completely cutting out all references to the Norwegian threat to the Danish state, Dean and Jocelyn shaped their version of Hamlet into a drama of two interlinked families. Hamlet, the Ghost, Claudius, and Gertrude make up one of the families; Polonius, Laertes, and Ophelia make up the other; and the two are linked by Hamlet and Ophelia’s broken romance. This adaptation foregrounds Gertrude’s tenderness towards Ophelia and Laertes; up until Hamlet gave them reasons to hate him, after all, Gertrude was planning and assuming that she would soon welcome them as new relatives by marriage. Throughout the Glyndebourne staging directed by Neil Armfield, Gertrude can frequently be seen literally reaching out to other characters, touching and caressing them; she is, in this version, a dedicated peacemaker, striving—up until the moment of her own poisoning, when she realizes that her husband intends to kill her son—to hold the court together.

Another interesting presence in this version was the triply-cast role of the ghost of old Hamlet, the first player, and the gravedigger, played memorably by Sir John Tomlinson for the premiere production. I liked the fact that the opera made use of role doubling, a longstanding theatrical practice that is believed to have been used by Shakespeare’s acting company. Besides being one of the elements that made the opera feel very “theatrical” to me, it also allowed the ghost of Hamlet’s father to sort of implicitly or symbolically stick around as an ally to Hamlet. The roles of the first player and the gravedigger stand outside the two-family structure I outlined above, but they fit into another structure of Dean’s Hamlet: Team Hamlet vs. Team Claudius. As Hamlet’s bonds with his immediate family and his girlfriend are rapidly eroded, he turns to figures like Horatio, Marcellus, the players, and the gravedigger for trustworthy information and companionship. As I already mentioned, the roles of Horatio and Marcellus are minimized in this adaptation, so the roles of the first player and the gravedigger take on proportionally greater importance (even though their lines are also reduced). 

Those are my thoughts on Brett Dean’s Hamlet, or at least, as many thoughts as I can write up in an evening. Feel free to send me your thoughts too, or ask follow-up questions!

[walliamsclassnews]

What a fun packed week!

Walliams Class have all been absolutely brilliant this week and they all amazing when they represented the school during our school trip on Thursday. I am so very pleased with them all!

Well done to this week’s pupil of the week, Rustie! You really impressed me with your character description about a Roman soldier as you concentrated on up levelling your vocabulary and improving your writing. You were also keen to show off your knowledge and gain new insight at Colchester Castle when we were exploring the vaults. Keep it up and well done Rustie!

In English this week, we brought in some history as well as we were learning about the Roman army and what soldiers were like in the army. We focused on a soldier for our character description, describing them getting ready for battle and then finally in battle. We looked at a Roman fort for our setting description, the place where the Roman army would return to after a battle. We were focusing on adverbial phrases - something that describes the verb by telling us how, when, where or why something happens - and the class had to include them in their writing to meet the learning objective. They did a fantastic job and I was very impressed with all of their writing. 

In maths, we were learning about tenths and hundredths and converting between fractions and decimals. The class quickly got their heads around the idea that one tenth was ten hundredths and it was equal to 0.1. We also looked at hundredths of a quanitity and the class all did so brilliantly that many of them got onto the challenge and Miss Bishop’s super challenge! Talk about hard working children!

In Science this week, we continued learning about sounds and we discussed how different instruments make sounds. We compared a guitar and a recorder, sharing our knowledge about how they make sound. We discussed what it meant by pitch and the difference between high and low pitch. Using straws, the children made pan pipes, knowing that the shorter the straw, the higher the pitch. They made sure their pan pipes went from low to high and at the end of the lesson, I had the pleasure of witnessing the Walliams Class pan pipes orchestra. Let me tell you, it was excellent!

On Thursday, Year 4 headed off on a school trip to Colchester Castle to help enhance their learning at the Romans. We had such a fantastic day and all the children absolutely loved it. We had so much fun and we learnt some much! A massive, massive thank you to the parents and staff who helped out on the trip. You were all stars and we couldn’t have done it without you! Thank you again!

We had the opportunity to explore the museum and the children particularly enjoyed the chariot racing game. They did get a little spooked by the prison as it was very creepy! There were lots of opportunities to dress up and role play as Roman or a Celt and the children all loved this!

We also had the opportunity to go down into the vaults and learn more about the Romans and Colchester. We learnt that Colchester was previously called Camulodunum and that there had been a temple built for the Emperor Claudius. We found out that the vaults were underneath where the temple would have been. We were fascinated to find out that Boudicca had led the Celtic army and they had burnt the temple down. The children learnt about how the Celtic slaves were forced to rebuild the temple and they didn’t have a choice in the matter! A few children said they wouldn’t mind being the overseer but quickly said no when they realised it meant their head being chopped off!

The children had the chance to construct an Iron Age roundhouse and a Roman villa. They had to work carefully as a team and make sure each part was going on correctly. They all did fantastically and they all managed to build each one. 

What a fantastic day! Year 4 has the best time!

To finish off the week, we drew our portraits of Boudicca and we used water colours to paint them. All of them looked fantastic and there are definitely some very talented artists in Walliams Class! After learning more about Boudicca on Thursday, the class were even more eager to draw a portrait of her.

Well done to the children completing Nando’s homework. We love receiving Nando’s and love displaying it proudly in the classroom. Please keep this up! Remember, house points are rewarded for Nando’s homework!

Homework diaries need to be on Monday mornings with any reading done recorded. Homework for spellings and maths are due in on Tuesdays and it is very important that all the children are doing their homework. I also encourage that their spelling sentences are adventurous as possible!

Lots of the children have been having fun on Spelling Shed and I definitely encourage the children to go on and try it for themselves. It’s so much fun!

Well, I feel like we have tired the children out this week so I hope you all have a lovely weekend and get plenty of rest!

Miss Bishop ☺️