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babyrdie · 24 days

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how about trojans? i don't think you've ever posted a art with them

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I'm obviously not drawing everyone here. There are a lot of people!

Hecuba and Priam are both in designs where they definitely weren't young newly adults, but they also aren't elderly like they should have been in the Trojan War. The reason is that then I would have to draw them with white hair and that would prevent me from properly seeing who pulled who. So here are Hecuba and Priam definitely pre-Iliad.

Too lazy to draw feet.

Hector

He's the firstborn son of a shocking number of children, so I'm going to let the guy have at least a few frown lines alone, because this man must have frowned a lot throughout his life. In this house, we give AT LEAST an eternal frown!

I imagine him being the same height as Patroclus and Achilles because the three of them wear the same armor. Now you might say “but Birdie, that physique is CLEARLY bigger than the other two” and I agree! My excuse for this is that there's a part that says Zeus changed Achilles' armor when Hector put it on, and I always figured that was about the width. Reason: Achilles is a warrior focused on speed, so I don't imagine him being the width of a refrigerator, so to speak, and on the other hand Hector and Big Ajax seem to be somewhat similar in fighting style, so I think Hector and Achilles had a difference in size in subject width. I also made him quite tan because he was one of the main warriors.

So he decreed and the son of Cronus bowed his craggy dark brows. fitted the armor tightly on Hector's body and Ares surged in his heart with awesome force, filling his limbs with power and fighting strength.

The Iliad, XVII, 240-244. Tranlstion by Robert Fagles.

Hecuba

Hecuba has more than one attributed father, but I decided to go with the Phrygian king Dymas, described in The Iliad as Hecuba's father.

[...] Asius, an uncle of stallion-breaking Hector, a blood brother of Hecuba, son of Dymas who lived in Phrygia near Sangarius' rapids. [...]

The Iliad, XVI, 837-839. Translation by Robert Fagles.

I won't lie to you: I was unsure about how to draw her. Phrygians are a very uncertain people in terms of information, and this definitely didn't help make the whole thing easier since I was following the version where Hecuba is Phrygian. I have researched for a long time, and yet the Phrygians remain a very obscure people. And I couldn't draw Paris and Laodice before her because I wanted them to look specifically like her, so my delay was holding those two back. After much consideration, I decided to simply go with these two (both late) descriptions of Hecuba:

Hecuba: dark, good eyes, full grown, good nose, beautiful, generous, talkative, calm.

Chronography, 5.106, by the byzantine Ionnis Malalas. Translation by Brady Kiesling.

Hecuba was beautiful, her figure large, her complexion dark. She thought like a man and was pious and just.

Dares Phrygius, 12, uncertain author. Translation by R.M Frazer.

I also wanted to make Hecuba beautiful. Not only because she' s usually described that way, but also because there are myths in which she's Apollo's lover. I think that to have attracted Apollo Hecuba must have been really beautiful, as well as calm and thoughtful. And it's precisely because I wanted to follow the idea of Hecuba being beautiful that I wanted to make Paris (generally described as one of the most beautiful Trojans in myths in general) and Laodice (described as the most beautiful daughter of Priam by Homer) take after her.

[...] Afterwards Hecuba bore sons [...] and Troilus: this last she is said to have had by Apollo.

Library, 5.12.5, by Pseudo-Apollodorus. Translation by J.G Frazer.

Deiphobus

Honestly, I don't have much to say. He's a typical warrior and looks more like Priam. And yes, it's on purpose to make him look like my Menelaus (although there's a chance I might redesign Menelaus).

Laodice

Laodice is described as Priam's most beautiful daughter, which is why I made her look like Hecuba. Among the princes and princesses, she's the most physically similar to Paris, as he's also one of the most beautiful and also looks like Hecuba. She's not a very prominent character in mythology, but I don't know… there's something about her that interests me, so I put some effort into trying to make her design look good.

[...] looking for all the world like Hector's sister wed to Antenor's son, Helicaon's bride Laodice, the loveliest daughter Priam ever bred.

The Iliad, III, 147-149. Translation by Robert Fagles.

And there at the palace Hector's mother met her son, that warm, goodhearted woman, going in with Laodice, the loveliest daughter Hecuba ever bred.

The Iliad, VI, 298-300. Translation by Robert Fagles.

I like to think that she partially understands Helen, knowing what it's like to have so much attention that it's negative because of her appearance, but in the end she's not really close to her (I'm going with the versions where Hector and Priam are the only ones who treat Helen really well. I don't think Laodice was the type to be actively mean to her, just the type to avoid interaction).

Priam

Priam actually participated in wars, so don't think I made him smaller because he's horrible at fighting. He simply has these genetics and, at the specific age I chose for him here, he's already at least around fifty years old. Additionally, I made his eyes look like a golden honey as a reference to Apollo, because of the god's association with knowledge. I could have made it gray in reference to Athena's wisdom, but I don't think it would fit. And yeah, specifically Polyxena, Helenus and Cassandra having this eye color was on purpose!

Paris

He takes after his mother Hecuba, and is beautiful like her. He is usually portrayed in antiquity as blond, but I REALLY wanted to make him look like my Hecuba, and if I followed that description, he would look like my Priam. So that's why I'm taking creative liberty here, but know that I KNOW he was usually blonde. I must be honest in admitting that my Paris is also very slightly inspired by Enrique Simonet's, because El Juicio de Paris was one of the first paintings referring to Greek mythology that I saw and that's why it left a strong impression on me. Even from the back he looks really handsome, so yes, I'll be using it for inspiration even though it's definitely not an ancient Greek source.

Normally Paris is drawn without any muscle and I understand why! In myths he's often considered effeminate, and he's sometimes reputed to be weak. BUT I personally can't see him being like that, and I think it would be perfectly possible to balance a slightly more feminine appearance with an athletic physique (I did this with my Achilles, after all). And now I'm going to do a kind of dissertation on why my Paris's physique is like this, even though you, dear anon, didn't ask!

Archery itself doesn't need to change the physique exceptionally, and you can see this by analyzing photos of Olympian archers (they, at most, have athletic arms). I literally even know someone who does archery and they don't have a Green Arrow-esque physique. Generally, archers with more developed physiques are those who use very heavy bows, as they require greater strength from the muscles used to pull and release the string, and who place some additional effort in other physical activities besides archery (for example , bodybuilding). In other words, Paris being a good archer wouldn't necessarily make him have to be super muscular, although it could give him good arms (and back, I imagine).

There is another however. Paris is a prince, but he wasn't raised like a prince. The opposite, actually! He was raised by a commoner shepherd, and I really doubt that Paris spent days of his life lying around just eating grapes given to him, he certainly did some physical work. I tried to imagine more of a farmer vibe, because they're the type of people who do manual work every day. If you notice, being a farmer doesn't necessarily make you an aspiring bodybuilder, but in many cases it makes you stronger. Even in cases of farmers who have a pot belly, you've probably seen one who had at least some semi-impressive biceps. In other words, Paris doing manual labor doesn't necessarily make him Big Ajax, but it really gets in the way of the image of him being like my Helenus.

Polyxena

Polyxena is mainly remembered for being a kind of Trojan Iphigenia, in the sense that the Greeks at a certain point are in one place because the wind is paralyzed by a greater force and this greater force will only allow them to go to their goal with the sacrifice of a young virgin, who is portrayed as courageously accepting her sacrifice. She also plays an important role in the later versions of the myths regarding Achilles' death, taking advantage of his passion for her to deceive him in order to lead him to his death (I say later because in fact it is later. The older versions didn't include Polyxena having that role). Despite being a later version, I based her intelligence on the versions where she plays a role in Achilles' death and gave her more knowing eyes.

Interestingly, I found her described as tall in two versions (Malalas and whoever wrote Dares' account. Though it's interesting that one specified black for her hair and the other said blonde and in response, I did it...brown), but I really wish Laodice's height was more detachable, so here my Polyxena isn't tall. Although described as tall in both versions, both versions find a way to say that something about her is small (in one, her feet. In other, her fingers), so I made her physique more similar to Priam's genetics than to Hecuba's.

Helenus

Helenus is Cassandra's twin brother and is capable of prophesying like her. While they are not identical twins, they look very similar. Even though he also didn't believe in Cassandra like everyone else, I like to think they were still close. Helenus purposely avoids cutting his hair so that they look even more alike and as children they could be a pain in Hector's ass for swapping places with the intention of tricking their older brother. The myths don't tend to highlight him for any athletic or warrior ability, but more for his prophetic or intellectual ability, so I really didn't make a point of giving him muscles (I know he fights in the Iliad, I just don't think it's the most interesting part of him. Let's face it, no one remembers him because he picked up a spear or a bow or something like that, people remember him because he prophesied). Helenus looks a lot like his father Priam, who is short and has a thin physique genetics. The reason he seems more “brilliant” than Cassandra is precisely because the difference in treatment given to the two certainly affects the way they live and think. Suffice to say, Helenus is less anxious and frustrated.

Cassandra

I want to make something clear right away, because I've seen a similar misunderstanding happen before: my Cassandra isn't thin because she isn't well fed in Troy. She's a princess and a prophetess, she IS well fed. She just has a really thin physique, just look at Helenus and Polyxena. I like to make characters look different from each other, and I noticed that, with the exception of Penelope (who I didn't even post in full body), I was lacking in female characters that were very uncurvy. So here's Cassandra.

She's Helenus's twin sister, although they aren't identical twins. However, they're still similar! They both mainly take after their father Priam, and the reason I specifically chose blonde for them is because I had the interpretation that Cassandra was blonde when I read The Iliad. They actually have the same eye color, I just prefer to make Cassandra's look darker because there is a difference between the treatment given to the two. Helenus's prophecies are believed, which allows him to be a more hopeful and calm person. Cassandra isn't believed and is often seen as crazy (just look at the treatment given to her in Alexandra and The Trojan Women, for example), which makes her seem less like she's smiling 24 hours a day and more like she's constantly frustrated.

Cassandra is indeed pretty, but I didn't try to exaggerate her too much because I don't want to give her the vibe of untouchable beauty. I think Cassandra's emotional aspect is infinitely more interesting, and I tried to convey that in the design. I like this kind of complicated relationship with Apollo, in which she's bitter for Apollo having cursed her (as seen in The Oresteia) and at the same time admires him as her god (as seen in The Trojan Women). She feels frustrated by feeling helpless, knowing that she can't do anything to stop what's going to happen. The reason she has dark circles under her eyes is because, honestly, I can't imagine being her without eventually developing anxiety. And one of the characteristics of anxiety is precisely these piles of terrifying thoughts about the future that absolutely prevent you from getting a decent sleep. In this specific drawing I didn't draw nails, but I imagine she bites them too.

Height Comparison

#Ask #Request #Anon #Hector of Troy #Hecuba #Deiphobus #Laodice #Priam #Paris of Troy #Polyxena #Helenus of Troy #Cassandra of Troy #Greek Mythology #Tagamemnon #cw nudity #IK

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violetstrations · 10 months

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[ID 1: a digital drawing of a cover featuring Apollo Justice and Klavier Gavin from ace attorney, drawn on a stage under a spotlight. Apollo is wearing a version of Zidane Tribal's clothes from final fantasy IX, with a red shawl tied around his shoulders, his hair long and tied back, and a fluffier tail. Klavier is wearing a fusion of his and Garnet Til Alexandros XVII's clothes, with a black leather corset and knee length healed boots. His hair is tied in a ponytail. They smile at each other, with Apollo holding a red and gold theatre mask behind him, and likewise, Klavier holds a Rod. A wooden sign above them reads "Bird In The Hand—Fret".]

[2: A two panel comic of Apollo and Solomon Starbuck on a stage, shouting at each other whilst holding up a sword. Solomon is in a brown jacket. End ID]

hey hey hello ! I participated in this year's @klapollo-minibang, and drew art for @kzmj's fic bird in the hand ! check it out when you have the chance, alongside everyone else's fantastic work :D

I'm so happy I decided to join again, if you remember my art last year :] this has been super fun and I've met some wonderful people <33

#aa #klapollo minibang 2023 #klapollo #apollo justice #klavier gavin #nooty's art #art

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thegrapeandthefig · 8 months

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This weekend was the Great Komaia, where I honour Apollo Komaios & Dionysos Komastes together.

The Great Komaia is one of the festivals attested in Thasos through inscription SEG xix 415.

The cult of Apollon Komaios is of Ionian origin. It is attested in Naukratis (Athenaios IV 49d) and Thasos (SEG XVII 415; LSCG Suppl. 69: Μεγάλα Κωμαῖα). The related personal name Κωμαῖος is mostly attested in Ionic cities. The cult was brought from Paros to Thasos and thence to the Thasian Peraia and Philippi. Macedonian colonists brought it to Seleukeia in Syria, whence the god’s statue was transported to the Palatine Hill in Rome. (Chaniotis, Angelos. "Epigraphic Bulletin for Greek Religion 2010 (EBGR 2010)." Kernos. Revue internationale et pluridisciplinaire de religion grecque antique 26 (2013): 241-302.)

The offerings are loosely based on the example of Naukratis, which is transmitted to us by Athenaios in Deipnosophists IV:

I have made the personal choice to add Dionysus according to the closeness of the an epithet of his, komastes/κωμαστής, which has led some scholars to be unsure about who the Great Komaia was for. Dionysus and Apollon being the main contenders. So I have (quite lazily, I might add) blurred the lines even further by placing the Great Komaia on the same day as the Athenian Pyanepsia and Oschophoria, which also celebrated Apollon and Dionysus a day apart.

Because of the ambiguity of the epithet/name of the festival, where it is unsure if it comes from "kome" or "komos", the purpose of the festival is not certain. In the former case, it could refer to the ritualized procession to the music of the cithara or the flute. But if it is the latter, it would refer to Apollo as the patron of villages.

#thasian recon #apollon komaios #dionysus komastes

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paganimagevault · 1 year

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Herm with erect phallus 520 BCE. From Siphnos. Marble. H. 66 cm (25 ¾ in.). Inv.3728. National Archaeological Museum of Athens.

"HERMAE (ἑρμαῖ), and the diminutive HERMULI (ἑρμίδια), statues composed of a head, usually that of the God Hermes, placed on a quadrangular pillar, the height of which corresponds to the stature of the human body (ἡ τε��ράγωνος ἐργασία, Thuc. 6.27; τὸ σχῆμα τὸ τετράγωνον, Paus. 4.33.4). Some difficulties are involved in the question of their origin, and of their meaning as symbols of Hermes. One of the most important features in the mythology of Hermes is his presiding over the common intercourse of life, traffic, journeys, roads, boundaries, and so forth, and there can be no doubt that it was chiefly in such relations as these that he was intended to be represented by the Hermae of the Greeks and by the Termini of the Romans, when the latter were identified with the Hermae. It is therefore natural that we should look for the existence of this symbol in the very earliest times in which the use of boundary-marks was required; and in such times the symbols would be of the simplest character, a heap of stones or an unhewn block of marble. Now we find that there were in many parts of Greece heaps of stones by the sides of roads, especially at their crossings, and on the boundaries of lands, which were called ἑρμαῖα or [p. 1.954]ἑρμεῖα, ἑρμαῖοι λόφοι and ἕρμακες (Hesych. s. vv.: the remarks on the etymology of these words in Buttmann's Lexil. and L. and S. ed. 7 should be corrected from Curtius, Gr. Etym. 349, 350). A ἑρμαῖος λόφος near Ithaca is mentioned in the Odyssey (16.471)); Strabo noticed many ἑρμεῖα on the roads in Elis (viii. p. 343); and even now an ancient heap of stones may be seen on the boundary of Laconia (Ross, Pelop. vol. i. pp. 18, 174). The religious respect paid to such heaps of stones, especially at the meeting of roads, is shown by the custom of each passer-by throwing a stone on to the heap (Nicand. Ther. 150); this custom was also observed with reference to the Hermae of later times, at least to those which stood where roads met and served as milestones or direction posts (Brunck, Anal. 3.197, no. 234). Such heaps of stones were also seen by Strabo on the roads in Egypt (xvii. p. 818). Another mode of marking a boundary or other definite locality was by a pillar of stone, originally unhewn, the sacred character of which was marked by pouring oil upon it and adorning it (Theophrast. Char. 16 ; comp. Genesis 28.18, 22, 31.45-48, where both the pillar and the heap of stones are set up for a witness, 35.14).

Of these heaps of stones and pillars, those which marked boundaries were, among the Dorians, dedicated to Apollo Agyieus, the guardian of the streets and highways (Müller, Dor. 2.6.6; 8.17); a worship which was subsequently introduced into Attica (Aristoph. Wasps 875; Dem. c. Mid. p. 531.52). At Athens, on the other hand, Hermes was from the first invested with the same offices, and other Greeks borrowed this image from the Athenians (Paus. l.c.; cf. 1.24.3).

The first attempt at the artistic development of the blocks of stone and wood, by which, in the earliest period of idol-worship, all the divinities were represented, was by adding to them a head, in the features of which the characteristics of the God were supposed to be expressed; and afterwards other members of the body were added, at first with a symbolical meaning. [DAEDALA] These changes produced the Hermae, such as they are described by the ancient authors, and as we now have them. The phallus formed an essential part of the symbol, probably because the divinity represented by it was in the earliest times, before the worship of Dionysus was imported from the East, the personification of the reproductive powers of nature. So the symbol is described by Herodotus, who ascribes the origin of it to the Pelasgians, who communicated it to the Athenians, and they to the other Greeks. (Hdt. 2.51; Plut. an Seni ger. sit Resp. 28, p. 797 f.; Cic. de Nat. Deor. 3.2. 2, § 56; comp. Creuzer's note, in Baehr's edition of Herodotus.) Pausanias gives the same account of the matter (1.24.3; 4.33.3), and also states that the Arcadians were particularly fond of the ἄγαλμα τετράγωνον (8.48.4; where the statue referred to is one of Zeus), which is some confirmation of the tradition which carried back the invention to the Pelasgic times.

In the historical times of Greece, too, it was at Athens that the Hermae were most numerous and most venerated. So great was the demand for these works that the words ἑρμογλύφος, ἑρμογλυφικὴ τέχνη, and ἑρμογλυφεῖον were used as the generic terms for a sculptor, his art, and his studio (Plat. Symp. p. 215; Lucian, Somn. § § 2, 7; and the Lexicons).

Houses in Athens had one of these statues placed at the door, called ἑρμῆς στροφαῖος or στροφεύς (Thuc. 6.27; Aelian, Ael. VH 2.41; Suid. s.v. Pollux, 8.72; Athen. 10.437 b); sometimes also in the court-yard (Lucian, Navig. 20, p. 261), which were worshipped by the women as conducive to fecundity, and the great reverence attached to them is shown by the alarm and indignation which were felt at Athens in consequence of the mutilation of the whole number in a single night, just before the sailing of the Sicilian expedition. (Thuc. 6.27, with Grote's remarks, ch. 58, 5.146 ff.; Andoc. de Myst.; Aristoph. Lys. 1094, and Schol.; Aristophanes applies the term ἑρμοκοπίδαι to the mutilators; see also Phot. s. v. ἑρμοκοπίδαι.）

They were likewise placed in front of temples, near to tombs, in the gymnasia, palaestrae, libraries, porticoes, and public places, at the corners of streets, on high roads as sign-posts, with distances inscribed upon them (Boeckh, Corp. Inscr. No. 12; Brunck, Anal. 3.197; and the epigrams on Hermae in 198=Anth. Pal. 6.221); and some are still to be seen at Athens with the names of victors in the gymnastic contests inscribed upon them. (Leake, Athens, p. 17, n. 1.) They were even made vehicles of public instruction, according to the author of the Platonic Hipparchus (p. 228 D--229 B), who says that the tyrant Hipparchus placed Hermae in the streets of the city and in roads throughout Attica, inscribed with moral verses, such as the following:-- “ Μνῆμα τόδ᾽ Ἱππάρχου: στεῖχε δίκαια φρονῶν.

Μνῆμα τόδ᾽ Ἱππάρχον: μὴ φίλον ἐξαπάτα.

”

(Comp. Harpocrat. s. v. Ἑρμαῖ: Hesych. sub voce Ἱππάρχειοι Ἑρμαῖ. Those which stood at cross roads had often three or four heads (Philoch. fragm. 69 Müller; Harpocr. and Etym. M. s. v. τρικέφαλος Ἑρμῆς: Phot., Hesych. sub voce τετρακέφαλος Ἑρμῆς: Eustath. ad Hom. Od. p. 1353, 3).

Numerous examples occur in Pausanias and other writers of their being placed on the boundaries of lands and states and at the gates of cities (πρὸς τῇ πυλίδι, προπυλαῖος, Paus. 8.34.3, s. 6; 4.33.3, s. 4, &c.; Harpocr.). Small Hermae were also used as pilasters, and as supports for furniture and utensils. (Pollux, 7.15, 73; Müller, Archäol. § 379, n. 2.) Respecting the use of the Hermae and Hermuli in the Circus, see p. 433, with cuts of the doors of the Carceres.

With respect to the form of these works, the essential parts have been already mentioned. A pointed beard (σφηνοπώγων) belonged to the ancient type (Artemid. 2.42). A mantle (ἱμάτιον) was frequently hung over the shoulders (Paus. 8.39.4; D. L. 5.82). Originally the legs and arms were altogether wanting (Pausanias calls them ἄκωλοι, 1.24.3), and, in place of the arms, there were often projections to hang garlands upon; but when the reverence attached to the ancient type became less, and the love of novelty greater, the whole torso Was placed upon a quadrangular [p. 1.955]pillar, which tapered towards the base, and finally the pillar itself was sometimes chiselled to indicate the separation of the legs, as may be seen in a tetragonal female statue in the Villa Albani. (Winkelm. Storia delle Arti, vol. i. tav. 1.) Sometimes, as above stated, the head was double, triple, and even fourfold. The whole figure was generally of stone or marble; but Cicero (Cic. Att. 1.8) mentions some which were of Pentelic marble, with bronze heads. (Müller, Archäol. d. Kunst, § 67.)

Many statues existed of other deities, of the same form as the Hermae, which no doubt originated in the same manner, and which were still called by the generic name of Hermae, even though the bust upon them was that of another deity. Several images of this kind are described by Pausanias; one of Poseidon at Tricoloni in Arcadia (8.35.6), another of Zeus Teleios at Tegea (ib. 48.4), and another of Aphrodite Urania at Athens (1.19.2). The reason why the statues of the other deities were developed into perfect forms, while those of Hermes so generally (by no means universally) retained their ancient fashion, is obviously on account of the religious significance attached to the symbol of the pillar, as a boundary mark. Where this motive was not called into action, Hermes himself was represented in the complete human form with all the perfection of Greek art, as, for example, in his statues in the palaestrae, and in those which embodied others of his attributes. (See Müller, Archäol. d. Kunst, § § 380, 381.)

Some statues of this kind are described by a name compounded of that of Hermes and another divinity: thus we have Hermanubis (Anth. Pal. 11.360), Hermares, Hermathena (Cic. Att. 1.1 and 4), Hermeracles (Cic. Att. 1.1. 0), Hermeros (Plin. Nat. 36.33), Hermopan (Bekk. Anecd. 1198). It has been disputed whether such figures were composed of the square pillar, as the emblem of Hermes, surmounted by the bust of the other divinity; or, secondly, whether the heads of Hermes and the other God were united, as in the bust of Janus; or, lastly, whether the symbolical characteristics of the two deities were combined in the same statue. The best recent criticism is in favour of the first of the above explanations : “as commonly assumed, they were statues of those deities in the Hermes form, not Janus-like compounds of the two deities named” (Baumeister, 1.604a; cf. Müller, Archäol. d. Kunst, § 345). Exceptions, however, seem to have existed: a Janus-head of Hermes and Athena in Müller's Denkmäler, pl. xlii. No. 526. Some, again, such as the Hermerotes of Tauriscus, mentioned by Pliny among other masterpieces of sculpture, were probably not of a terminal character at all, any more than the Hermaphroditi, of which specimens are extant [HERMAPHRODITUS]. It is not unlikely that they may have been simply hermaphrodite Erotes, like those depicted on some south-Italian vases. It is difficult to believe that the sculptor of the Dirce-group (Toro Farnese) would have condescended to the embellishment of terminal figures.

There is still another class of these works in which the bust represented no deity at all, but was simply the portrait of a man, and in which the pillar loses all its symbolical meaning, and becomes a mere pedestal. Even these statues, however, retained the names of Hermae and Termini. The examples of them are very numerous. A list of these and of the other Hermae is given by C. W. Müller. (Ersch and Gruber's Encyklopädie, art. Hermen.）

The Hermae of all kinds were in great request among the wealthy Romans, for the decoration of their houses and villas (Cic. ad Att. ll. cc.). It is also stated that they used them as posts for ornamental railings to a garden, in which case they were commonly decorated with the busts of philosophers and eminent men, some of which may be seen at the Vatican and other museums, with the square holes in their shoulders into which the transverse rail was inserted. This square hole, however, is also seen in Hermae of old Greek workmanship, in which cases they were probably the sockets of the projections, above mentioned, for hanging garlands on.

The existing remains of ancient art are rich in terminal statues of all the classes which have been described; and specimens of nearly all may be seen in the British Museum, and in engravings in Müller's Denkmäler der alten Kunst (vol. i. pl. i. Nos. 3, 4, 5;--vol. ii. pl. xxxi. No. 341; pl. xxxiii. Nos. 376, 386, 387; pl. xxxvi. Nos. 428, 429; pl. xlii. No. 526). The first two examples in Müller are very interesting: the one is a bas-relief, exhibiting a Hermes decorated with garlands and surrounded with the implements of his worship, as shown in the following engraving; the other is also a bas-relief in which we see a terminal bust of Dionysus washed and decorated by a man and three women. Hermae of the bearded Dionysus occur frequently among existing remains (Gurlitt, Archäol. Schr. p. 194 ff.) Respecting the Hermae on coins, see Rasche, Lex. Univ. Rei Num. s. vv. Herma, Hermathene, Hermes. (C. O. Müller, Archäol. der Kunst; Müller and Osterley, Denkmäler der alten Kunst; Baumeister, Denkmäler, s. vv. Götterbilder, Hermes.)"

-A Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities (1890). William Smith, LLD, William Wayte, G. E. Marindin, Ed.

#hermes #ancient greek #museums #athens #antiquities #antiquity #pagan #statue #sculpture #6th century bce

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tsarisfanfiction · 1 year

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Eclipse: Chapter 17

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Adventure Characters: Apollo, Hades Parts of this chapter were hard to write... In other news, I am delighted that people want to bash these two idiots over the head almost as much as I did when I was writing this! I have a discord server for all my fics, including this one! If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<Chapter 16

HADES XVII The Long and Inconvenient Detour

Styx’s refusal to let Apollo cross was a great inconvenience. It did not prevent them from completing their quest entirely, because it was possible to reach the prison without crossing the Styx, but the alternative route would lead them through areas Hades had particularly never wanted to go near again.

In the least worst case scenario – because there was no best case scenario when it came to being inside Tartarus – the deepest point of their descent down the Pit would have been the prison itself, keeping them clear of the heart of Tartarus, where the worst free-roaming inhabitants lurked, and the abyss of Chaos. Their new trajectory still kept them far from Nyx, and Hades had no intentions of nearing Chaos’ edge ever again – something he was certain Apollo would agree with no hesitation in the slightest – but it posed other, otherwise avoidable, threats.

“What oath did you break?” he asked of his nephew as they left Styx and her threats behind them. While he had not expected the meeting between the goddess and his nephew to go smoothly, it had not occurred to him that Styx would refuse to allow Apollo to cross her waters entirely.

Beside him, Apollo sighed. The sound was as depreciating as Hades had ever heard the younger god make.

“Rash and foolish ones I should have never made in the first place,” he admitted. “Ones I-”

“Ones?” Hades interrupted. “You broke more than one?”

Apollo’s wince was full-bodied, and far more suited to a mortal than a god.

“Styx has every right to be mad at me,” he said, a statement Hades couldn’t disagree with.

“What were they?” he pressed – what sort of oaths would Apollo make in the first place? His nephew had said they were rash and foolish, but while Hades could certainly equate rash with Apollo and his temper, Apollo had never before reached the levels of foolishness required to offend Styx so-

“Not to use a bow for as long as I was mortal,” Apollo confessed, the words quiet but astonishing enough to silence Hades’ thoughts regardless. “Or play an instrument.”

Rash and foolish, indeed. Apollo without his bow or music was no Apollo at all.

“I would ask what you were thinking, but you have already admitted you were not,” he said in exasperated disapproval.

Apollo made a noise of mournful agreement. “I broke both within a day,” he admitted.

Hades scoffed. “Of course you did.” His knowledge of Apollo’s time as a mortal was minimal, but he had no doubt that without his archery, at the very least, he would not have survived. Especially against Python.

He still wasn’t entirely clear on how Apollo had defeated him, as a mortal, but that was a question too far, he suspected. It was one thing to probe about the broken oaths Styx was so bitter about, and another to dredge up severe trauma. Apollo had never asked him about Kronos, so he could refrain from inquiring after Python further than he had already.

Apollo did not expand further on his oath-breaking, but Hades did not need to hear more on that topic, either. His reasonings for breaking them were immaterial – as he had said, they had been rash and foolish, and breaking them had been an inevitability from the moment he made them. The exact trigger meant nothing.

No doubt Styx would get her vengeance on Apollo whenever she chose, but Hades saw no need to provoke her further – whatever she did to Apollo would no doubt make him struggle further in Tartarus, which would in turn put more pressure on Hades to get them through their mission – so he led his nephew directly away from the river rather than following her banks. They would need to approximately follow the Styx to her end, in order to go around rather than cross, but there was a large expanse between the Styx and the Cocytus they could traverse.

Since their arrival in Tartarus, he had noticed Apollo was far more prone to bouts of quietness. It was the sort of peace he would have claimed to crave ordinarily, but while it was logically appropriate to not treat Tartarus like Olympus, lest the Primordial himself take offence, it still seemed wrong for Apollo to not be constantly making some sort of noise, whether it be talking or singing.

The song he had sung against Orion had seemed very unlike anything the god of music usually composed or performed. His ballad about his children had comparatively been a breath of fresh air – trust Apollo to draw inspiration from the myriad of mortals he had spawned across the millennia, although Hades could not complain when it had been powerful enough for Hades to focus on instead of the whispers of Maria, the complaints of siblings crammed against him, and Cocytus’ other snares.

He'd realised, when Apollo started talking about the daughter killed by Orion with a raw emotion their fellow gods went to great lengths to never show, that his nephew would never get past Cocytus unaided. He felt grief too strongly, no matter how much time had passed, and with so many of his children recently deceased, Apollo had never stood a chance.

Hades wasn’t sure if Apollo had even fully noticed that he’d had to drag his nephew through the river, a feat that had required more effort than he would ever admit; the song had cut through his own thoughts enough for him to maintain his presence of mind and not succumb to the water, but Apollo had barely been able to remain on his feet, let alone walk.

It had felt distinctly strange to be in physical contact with another god for so long; already during their time in the Pit, he had spent more time touching Apollo than he had touching anyone, including Persephone, for several decades, if not centuries. Gods did not need physical contact the way mortals craved it, although he was well aware that several of his brethren chose to pursue it regardless, and to touch another god – to get so close to the essence that comprised their entire being – almost bordered on uncomfortable.

Hades did not mind the company of others, so long as they were entertaining company and not irritating fools, but he had spent quite enough of his existence unable to stop touching at least one other being. He saw no reason to continue seeking more.

At least Apollo, despite having a more extroverted nature than Hades’ usual companions – and tactile, based on his interactions with his sons – was aware enough not to initiate contact, even if that had left Hades in the unusual position of being the one reaching out.

They continued their journey through Tartarus in silence. Despite the strangeness of Apollo’s lack of noise, Hades didn’t find it an inherently uncomfortable one; it seemed that neither he nor Apollo wanted to make small talk, and when his nephew was being silent he was surprisingly comfortable company (although Hades had always found him the most tolerable of his nephews, so perhaps it should not have been such a surprise). Not a word was exchanged even as Hades judged them far enough from the Styx – but not yet close enough to the Cocytus – to change their heading and once again begin the descent down the Pit, towards its deepest, darkest parts.

Monsters observed their progress from a safe distance. Hades bade them no mind, beyond periodic checks to ensure nothing that might actually pose a threat to either himself or Apollo had joined their ranks. After Orion’s near-successful attempt to ambush them, which Hades could admit had only failed because Apollo’s paranoia that his bane was following had in turn prompted Hades to be more suspicious, he intended on taking no chances.

Just because Orion was so far the only foe they had faced that had constituted a threat to one of them did not mean there were not others. While the Titans and Giants should, in theory, still be in a state of resurrecting and not wandering the rough landscape after the past two wars, Orion had already proven that that was not the case. The state of the other Giants, and potentially the Titans as well, was therefore an unknown element – and Hades suspected that, if the Primordial so wished, Tartarus could accelerate the resurrection of whichever monsters he chose.

It was one of the reasons Hades was not eager to advertise their presence to Tartarus any more than necessary, and he once again found himself frustrated at Styx for forcing them to take a detour which would send them passing far too close to the Heart. Given his earlier conversation with her, and Apollo’s reaction to whatever she had shown him in her waters, it was clear that she had threatened his nephew’s children. As soon as that had happened, it had become certain that no matter what, Apollo would not cross the Styx, and Hades had seen no point in wasting time trying to convince one or other of them to cave in their stubbornness.

Attempting to track time in Tartarus was a futile endeavour, but the knowledge did not prevent Hades’ mind from trying to grasp some degree of meaningful passage of time as he and Apollo descended, leaving behind the sharp glass shards that continued to tear at their feet vindictively and instead striding out across the taut, almost leathery sensation of skin that replaced it. He could count how many times Apollo had tapped his fingers against his bow, or brushed a hand through the bristle of fletching protruding from this quiver, but he could not equate either count to the passage of time.

Despite that, he was confident that their silent journey was not a short one. It was monotonous, as monsters gathered and observed but never approached, warded off by the strength of two powerful gods, but while the silence between him and his nephew was comfortable, the ambient sounds of Tartarus were not.

The chittering, grunting and howling of monsters was little more than a backdrop to be ignored, but as they descended further and further, Hades found himself listening more intently for something different. There was the sensation rather like something holding its breath, something waiting to pounce, and Hades disliked not knowing when nor where the threat would come.

He was certain that his last journey into Tartarus, with his brothers for company, had been nowhere near as calm. When they had not been struggling against the effects of the five rivers, each seemingly relishing in the viciousness Tartarus added to their essence, they had been fighting their way through disposed and banished Titans, and monsters of Typhon’s calibre.

Logic dictated that, so soon after two wars and Kronos and Gaia alike emptying Tartarus of its strongest occupants, there was simply a lull in the Pit’s available threats. Perhaps he and Apollo had entered at a time of less peril – Python was gone forever, Typhon, the Titans and Giants were all newly-defeated, and only the weak had resurrected so quickly – except Orion’s presence corrected the notion.

If Orion had already reformed and begun prowling around, seeking targets and a way back to the Overworld, then almost anything could be lying in wait.

And then there were the other threats.

Not all of the inhabitants of Tartarus ever chose to leave. Nyx’s children, in particular, appeared fond of their existence in the pit, although their mother herself slipped out every night, and Hades recalled several encounters that had been far too close for comfort.

There were things, down in the Pit, that those who had never entered did not even know existed. Things that lurked in the darkest, deepest parts of the world, teetering and thriving on the edge of Chaos and haunted the nightmares of the very, very few who had seen them and survived. Things Apollo knew nothing of, and Hades wished to know nothing of.

It was those that caused Hades the most concern, after the Primordial himself, about their descent so far towards the bottommost edge of the Pit. Orion had been – for him, if not for Apollo – an easy fight. Little but a warm up, compared to some of the worst things the Pit had to offer.

Despite knowing that Apollo had struggled due to the connection with his bane, that Orion had been crafted as the perfect antithesis to his nephew, and that he should, in theory, fare better against other challenges they would no doubt face, Hades still found himself feeling almost uneasy at the idea of his nephew fighting the same monsters that prowled through his nightmares.

The ones that could be fought.

In his efforts to ensure as much space as was practical between their path down and the course of the river Styx, Hades knew he risked a misstep. Despite his strong memory, and the confidence he broadcast to his nephew, he did not know every inch of Tartarus well. He and his brothers had, out of a sense of duty, done their best to traverse the entire Pit, leaving no shadow unexplored, but terror had a way of mangling even the most perfect memory, even of a god’s.

It was easy to recall broad strokes such as the routes of the five rivers, and the location of the gleaming brass fortress which held the worst Tartarus contained. It was more difficult to remember details such as the precise location of monsters and their lairs, especially when there was no guarantee that things had stayed exactly the same over the past several millennia. There was no reason to suspect that things had changed – but likewise, no proof that they had not.

Distant screeching reminded him of the Erinyes, not just the three sisters who had left Tartarus and served him in the Fields of Punishment, but the other ones, ones that made Alecto, Tisiphone and Megaera appear gentle in their mannerisms. His furies were intelligent, sharp and calculating, factors that set them apart from the others, for whom the best descriptor Hades could bring to mind (he was not Apollo, could not and had no wish to compose poems on the spot), was feral. Not feral in the way mortals thought, creatures that might snap and snarl and scratch if approached, but feral in the way every movement was a threat, could tear apart whatever fell in their way – some of Dionysus’ followers came to mind, but even they had a degree of reasoning to their thoughts.

The Erinyes shrieking in the distance were nothing but mindless killing demons – possible to defeat, as demonstrated by Apollo when one had appeared to attack Asclepius, but vicious. Hades would prefer not to cross their paths, if it were possible.

Travelling between two rivers, attempting to keep an equal distance between both, was a sound strategy in theory, but that was only for as long as the two rivers remained separate. The sensation was gradual, but Hades slowly became aware of whispering voices in the back of his mind as the familiarity of the Styx’s aura of hatred began to press upon them.

Apollo did not stumble, but there was a change to his countenance that alerted to Hades to his nephew’s fresh awareness of the rivers and drew his attention to focus on the younger god. Fingers tapped faster against the bow, a useless weapon in the face of foes such as rivers, but before Hades could instruct Apollo to cause another distraction against the cruel voices of the Cocytus, the god of music was already singing.

It was not the same song.

It was similar, enough that Hades could recognise it as belonging to the same roots as the first, but it was not the same. Last time, Apollo had sung of Phoebe, and many other children Hades had never been familiar with but knew, from the lyrics, were from millennia ago. This time, the names were more recent, ones he’d heard mentioned by Nico, ones that hadn’t yet passed through the Underworld for eternity. No doubt, these children were on Apollo’s mind after Styx’s threat, but if he feared for them, Hades did not feel it in his music.

Instead, he felt joy, pride and love, heard tales of the smallest things that somehow felt so impressive in the narration of Apollo’s song, was exposed to something he had already known but had never experienced – Apollo’s unconditional love for his children.

Cocytus was not so easily defied, however. Tears were sliding silently down Apollo’s face, and his voice trembled in ways that didn’t seem to fit the emotions of the song, warning signs that his nephew’s love could so easily traverse into grief – would, in the cycle of life and love Apollo had willingly trapped himself in long ago.

He could not pass the river alone.

Hades wrapped his fingers around Apollo’s arm again, letting his focus be taken by his nephew rather than the pressing river, and marched onwards, towards and then across the estuary they had reached, guiding the younger god as Apollo once again shielded them from the Cocytus and the laments it tried to invade their minds with.

Further downstream still, at the end of the estuary, was a far larger body of water. It was one Hades was not eager to approach, but they would need to pass it in time. Even at their current distance, he could feel the hatred of Styx mingling with the lamentation of Cocytus and the pain of the Acheron, while the Lethe’s calmness intertwined with the fierceness of the Phlegethon and created something entirely different.

“Where are we?” Apollo asked once they were across the estuary and his song had faded away, no longer needed to get them past the Cocytus, which now ran behind them, its whispers almost out of earshot. Tears still glistened on his cheeks, but no new ones fell as he gazed downriver. The moisture flickered with deep orange, reflected from the rushing river of fire ahead.

“Where the rivers meet,” Hades replied. “It has no true name that I have heard, but I believe it is colloquially known as the Delta of Despair.”

That, at least, had been Poseidon’s name for it when they’d approached the first time, battered and torn and exhausted, and wary of what the concoction caused by all five rivers merging could cause.

Despair was as good a description as any for the result.

“Sounds cheery,” Apollo commented. Hades heard the forced injection of levity into the words but chose to ignore it; if Apollo wanted to pretend to be up-beat, despite the tears on his face, then he would not challenge it.

“That would be one word,” he responded dryly. “Potent would be another.”

Apollo hummed in either acknowledgement or agreement. Perhaps both.

They drew to a gradual stop as the next river cut across their path. This close to the delta, where it merged with its brethren, the Phlegethon seemed less vibrant, but while the flames had faded to a much darker orange, it made no change to the temperature.

At least, unlike the Cocytus, it did not spread out into an estuary prior to uniting with the other four rivers, but rather remained fast yet narrow, much like where it entered Tartarus from the Underworld. Apollo would not have many issues crossing – issues he could not afford to have, so far down into the Pit.

“How many of the rivers are we going to have to cross?” Apollo asked him, standing a few paces back from the bank of the Phlegethon. From the way the flames licked towards him, Hades suspected the fire river god was taking particular offence to Apollo’s presence.

“After the Phlegethon, I believe there is one more,” Hades replied, trying to recall his mental map of this part of Tartarus. At the time, he had left this particular area up to Poseidon and his water loving brother’s area of expertise, but he was confident that neither the Styx nor the Lethe entered the delta from this side.

Unfortunately, the Acheron did.

Apollo didn’t ask which one was next, perhaps because he knew it didn’t matter; the rivers could not be avoided. Hades watched him take a running jump, transforming his legs into satyr limbs for extra lift and increasing his size at the last possible moment as he sailed over the angry flames of the Phlegethon. They flared up, lashing angrily, and for a moment, Hades lost sight of Apollo.

Golden drops landed in the river, shimmering for a moment before being absorbed by the flames. Hades wasted no time in wading through himself, feeling the frigid flames of the river try and fail to get through the souls of his armour, and re-emerged from the bank to see Apollo waiting for him, looking as close to flawless as the younger god could manage in Tartarus. Hades had no doubts that the golden drops of ichor had been Apollo’s, but with his rapid healing and presumably shallow wounds, it had taken no more than a moment to seal the wounds again.

This far down into the depths of Tartarus, it was good to see that Apollo’s strength had not waned overmuch.

Hades wasted no time in leading the way further down. Beneath his feet, the slope steepened – not so much that it was a hinderance to walk over, but enough to remind him that the deeper they got, the harder it was to get out again.

The Acheron did not merge into the delta at the same point as its brethren rivers, instead affording he and Apollo a brief respite from river fording as they continued to head down. Apollo was visibly warier, and Hades wondered if he had simply recognised the same danger in the steepening of the ground beneath their feet, or if there was something else bothering him.

“How far down are we?” Apollo asked, without prompting. “If this is where the rivers meet… the next river is the Acheron, isn’t it?” Something didn’t quite sound right in his voice, and it took Hades a moment to put things together.

He’d told Apollo that the Acheron ran along the edge of Chaos. That had not been a lie, although it did not always run across the edge. In some areas, at least, Hades was certain that there were still large stretches of the Pit before the abyss began.

Admittedly, he did not recall exactly where those large stretches were.

“We are not at the bottom yet,” he answered, once again dredging up his mental map from his previous visit. “I have no intentions of leading us to the edge of the Pit.” Something that looked a lot like relief flickered in his nephew’s eyes, and he forged on. “As I recall, there is a sixth, nameless river that traverses the gap between the delta and the abyss. At this point, the Acheron does not run along the edge.”

“I see,” Apollo said. Hades wasn’t certain if he did, but had no intentions of pushing further, not least because the rushing waters of the Acheron were beginning to reach his ears.

The Acheron was loud, not too dissimilar to the noise of a waterfall, and fast. It put any and all Overworld rivers to shame; not even the fastest, most violent river known to mortals could compare to the way the Acheron charged through the landscape, uncaring of the abyss it flirted with near the House of Nyx and anything else that occupied the same part of Tartarus. Tearing up everything in its path, or that was foolish enough to touch its waters, the river of pain was a master of inflicting it.

Hades recalled the scream Poseidon had made as he touched it, his younger brother curious and still perhaps a little naïve even so far into Tartarus. In the Underworld, the Acheron was mostly docile, winding its way through the Fields of Punishment and inflicting torment upon the souls sentenced to eternity on its river banks. In Tartarus, it was wild – the wildest of all the rivers, in Hades’ opinion.

If Poseidon, otherwise lord of the oceans and with more than a slight grasp of other waterways, was so tormented by the unrestrained Acheron, none of the rest of them stood a chance. Even Zeus, young and headstrong and with a cockiness that came from being the only child not to be eaten, had baulked away from the river after it devoured Poseidon’s entire lower arm in a single rush.

Not that the loss of his arm had been the cause of Poseidon’s scream. They were gods; flesh wounds no matter how severe remained only flesh wounds, which would heal in short time. The scream had been from the way the Acheron tore at his essence itself – later, Poseidon had likened it to razor sharp sand grains being ground through the most vulnerable parts of his being with no remorse, no mercy, and no end.

Hades remembered dragging his younger brother back, Zeus on Poseidon’s other side, and watching in horror he curled in on himself, brought to tears by the pain.

Neither he nor Zeus had dared get so much as a single droplet of the Acheron on them after that, despite the river’s own coaxing – the Cocytus was not the only river with voices, after all.

It screamed, the screams of the damned souls, agony wailing its way through the depths of Tartarus, but while it screamed it also implored them to approach, to succumb to guilt and accept the punishments the river offered.

Back then, the first time Hades had encountered it, he had been young and, alongside his brothers, buoyed up on the satisfaction of defeating Kronos and his cruel family. Arrogant and victorious, the river had had nothing to latch onto to try and drag him in.

Now, Hades had millennia behind him, and regrets sprinkled across it liberally, but he still had no desire to surrender himself to eternal torment, no matter how much the river tried to persuade him otherwise.

“Do we jump it?” Apollo asked him. He looked across at his nephew to see Apollo watching the river, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Do not let it touch you,” Hades confirmed. He paused for a moment, weighing up the sanctity of what happens in Tartarus stays in Tartarus against the desire to ensure Apollo fully understood the risks, before settling on, “it has brought greater gods than you to their knees.”

There was a very short list of gods greater than Apollo, especially when combined with the list of gods who had ever approached the Acheron where it flowed through the lower reaches of Tartarus. From the glance his nephew gave him, Apollo had immediately narrowed down the shortlist to the obvious three.

“Perhaps deservedly,” Apollo murmured, leaning forwards a little, and Hades grasped the back of his armour as though his nephew was a misbehaving child.

“You are here to protect your children,” he snapped. “Throwing yourself in the river will not solve anything.”

Thankfully, the Acheron was not a very wide river, and unlike some of its brethren its water did not leap up outside of the channel it had gouged for itself. Hades simply increased his size long enough to step over the river before reducing back down to human-sized, dragging his nephew with him before Apollo could think too much.

He didn’t let go until the voices had quietened again. Behind them, the Acheron continued to roar its way towards the delta.

Now, they were officially in the depths of Tartarus, below any of the rivers save the amalgamation of all five that sluggishly wound its way into oblivion. The weak monsters that had been dogging their tracks from a sensible distance were behind them, none foolish enough to cross the Acheron.

The only monsters they would encounter here were the real ones, the ones Hades did not want to meet. Children of Nyx, of Tartarus, of Chaos itself.

Rising out of the miasma before them were thin, spindly shapes, swaying slightly in a non-existent breeze, and Hades cursed in the safety of his mind. This was an area he had hoped to evade, an area of Tartarus that he had no doubts was far more dangerous than it had been millennia ago.

“We follow the river,” he told Apollo sharply. “Stay away from the trees.”

“Those are trees?” Apollo asked. “They look more like hairs.”

Hades scoffed. “Remember where we are, nephew.”

Apollo’s face hardened. “It’s difficult to forget.”

Hades found himself wondering what the Acheron had tried to tell Apollo, and instantly dismissed the thoughts as unnecessary; Apollo would never tell him, just as he had no reason to ever admit the words he had heard, either.

“We will give the Acheron a wide enough berth that you are not tempted to jump in,” he insisted, and got a defensive look from his nephew, Apollo clearly offended by the insinuation that he would despite all evidence to the contrary. “Watch the trees, but do not attempt to kill anything.”

Perhaps, if they were fortunate, they would be able to pass unnoticed.

Chapter 18>>

#trials of apollo #trials of apollo fanfiction #riordanverse #riordanverse fanfic #pjo hades #pjo apollo #tsari writes fanfiction #eclipse

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gardenofadonis · 2 years

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TBC characters as major arcana cards in R-W tarot

0. The Fool: Patroclus

I. The Magician: Kampe

II. The High Priestess: Cassandra

III. The Empress: Hecuba

IV. The Emperor: Agamemnon

V. The Hierophant: Laocoon

VI. The Lovers: Zagreus & Eurydice

VII. The Chariot: Watchman

VIII. Strength: Clytemnestra & Aegisthus (as the lion)

IX. The Hermit: The Oracle

X. Wheel of Fortune: Macaria & Polyxena

XI. Justice: Polydorus

XII. The Hanged Man: Askalaphos

XIII. Death: Hades

XIV. Temperance: Luba

XV. The Devil: Polymestor

XVI. The Tower: Kronos

XVII. The Star: Iphigenia

XVIII. The Moon: Artemis

XIX. The Sun: Apollo

XX. Judgement: Neoptolemus

XXI. The World: Persephone

#because i'm procrastinating #may elaborate later #idk probably won't #the burnt city #punchdrunk #tarot

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gonzalo-obes · 10 days

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IMAGENES Y DATOS INTERESANTES DEL DIA 3 DE JUNIO DE 2024

Día Mundial de la Bicicleta, Día Internacional del Sommelier, Semana Internacional de los Museos, Año Internacional de los Camélidos.

San Carlos Luanga y Santa Clotilde.

Tal día como hoy en el año 2018

Entra en erupción el Volcán de Fuego en Guatemala, causando más de 100 muertos y 200 desaparecidos, a demás, gran parte de la población se ve afectada por daños materiales.

2017

Ocurre el atentado yihadista de Londres de junio de 2017, en el que tres atacantes atropellan con un vehículo a varios viandantes y luego acuchillan a otras personas. En el puente de Londres y en Borough Market, resultando un total de 11 muertos y 48 heridos.

1998

Descarrila un tren de alta velocidad cerca de la aldea de Eschede, en el distrito de Celle en Baja Sajonia, Alemania. 101 personas murieron y alrededor de 100 resultaron heridas, siendo el accidente más grave de tren de Alemania y el de la alta velocidad hasta la fecha.

1980

Ocurre el incidente del 'Chip Defectuoso' en Estados Unidos, en el que un chip defectuoso alerta de un ataque nuclear inexistente y casi desemboca en la Tercera Guerra Mundial.

1979

Explota el pozo petrolífero Ixtoc, al sur del Golfo de México, provocando la pérdida de crudo más grande de la historia con entre 0,7 y 1 millón de toneladas de petróleo.

1966

Mao Zedong, líder del Partido Comunista Chino, inicia la Revolución Cultural en China, argumentando que elementos burgueses se habían infiltrado en el gobierno y en la sociedad para restaurar el capitalismo.

1965

El astronauta estadounidense Edward H. White, en órbita terrestre a bordo de la cápsula espacial Gemini 4, realiza el primer paseo espacial estadounidense, de una duración de 20 minutos. Los soviéticos ya han dado este paso anteriormente. White morirá, junto a Grissom y Shaffee, el 27 de enero de 1967 a bordo del Apollo I, como consecuencia de un incendio ocurrido durante la realización de simulaciones de vuelo en Cabo Cañaveral. (Hace 59 años)

1961

En Viena, Austria, y con el objetivo de evaluar a Kruschev, descubrir sus puntos de vista sobre la carrera nuclear y otros asuntos, así como tener una impresión sobre su personalidad, se reúnen por primera vez el presidente estadounidense, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, y el primer dirigente soviético, Nikita Kruschev. Al finalizar el día 4, el encuentro no supondrá ni una victoria ni una derrota sino algo "útil" y "necesario", según las palabras de ambos dirigentes. (Hace 63 años)

1948

Se inaugura en Monte Palomar (California, EEUU) el telescopio más grande del mundo con una abertura de 5 metros. (Hace 76 años)

1943

Durante la II Guerra Mundial, se crea en la ciudad de Argel (Argelia), el Comité Francés de Liberación Nacional, siendo nombrados copresidentes el General Charles De Gaulle y el General Giraud. En la misma fecha del año siguiente, este Comité de Liberación, pasará a llamarse Gobierno Provisional de la República Francesa. (Hace 81 años)

1940

En el transcurso de la II Guerra Mundial, 300 aviones de la Luftwaffe alemana bombardean la ciudad de París. Las bajas civiles se cifran en 900 personas. (Hace 84 años)

1862

El gobierno de los Estados Unidos de América, reconoce a la República de Liberia, establecida en África con esclavos libertos. (Hace 162 años)

1769

Para determinar la distancia existente entre la Tierra y el Sol, en Tahití, el navegante británico James Cook observa y estudia el paso de Venus frente al Sol que se produce este día. (Hace 255 años)

1621

Se funda en Amsterdam (Holanda) la Compañía Privilegiada de las Indias Occidentales, de la marina mercante de los Países Bajos, que se convertirá en un poderoso monopolio comercial, con su capital dividido en acciones que se establecían en Bolsa de Ámsterdam, una de las más antiguas de Europa. Operará entre los siglos XVII y XVIII. (Hace 403 años)

1553

Tras haberse constituido el 25 de enero, hoy se inician los cursos por primera vez en la Real Universidad de México. (Hace 471 años)

1098

Las tropas de la Primera Cruzada, que en la madrugada del 2 al 3 han capturado Antioquía (Turquía) organizan una matanza de toda la población turca que es exterminada, sin perdonar la vida a los ancianos, mujeres o niños que habitan la ciudad. El saqueo y pillaje se extenderá hasta ya entrada la tarde del día siguiente. Con posterioridad, el 5 de noviembre, Antioquía será asignada a Bohemundo de Tarento, entrando a formar parte del Principado de Antioquía, en medio de la oposición de Raimundo IV de Tolosa, que será el único que insistirá en cumplir con el juramento de fidelidad prestado al emperador Alejo I, pero que los otros cruzados se negarán a cumplir, al no haberles prestado el emperador la ayuda prometida durante el asedio de la ciudad. (Hace 926 años)

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libidomechanica · 25 days

Text

Is ample warrant thought, if Sovereign Yoke

A tricube sequence

Kiss and why he rest on the day spending

airs they wither’d in evening. Is

ample warrant thought, if Sovereign Yoke.

Still. At fourteen I married Lamia

judg’d, and Mankind. The imprisoned

not holds a straight line fallen in vain!

III

To Company belovèd alike?

Into a fine thy brow; and leader

of thee in the evil tongue be still.

You can’t seen of its earnest to say

thy monumental Brass: high and praise;

now pray we for Women, Paine doth grow?

An’ it winna let a body be.

Is safer: out upon his eye discern

the heate so great lords are forests.

Not, nor no less age. Teach you bout the

Breach wounded old dreaming is too late

cars which he the lawful Government.

VII

Of these the People give rewards before

incense rare. Today when have once

to the secret tears; yet not a Slaves.

VIII

To admonitions Vows deny’d, not

from its neighbour’d to breed another

way. Was used to think to the gods in?

His Crime. Tis better smile? Proud Egypt

would Curb my Spirits that dandled your

swear the slabbed steps with such a Cause?

The modest virgin purest scented

with mankinds Delight away. I’d

say This faulding in postering me.

I’m o’er young, I’m feared ye’d spoiled for. View

their eye and loose Carriers his Wit.

Since the publick Liberty began.

XII

Grows controlled with being this short the

summer heart of your more perhaps his

perversely our body be. And sleep.

XIII

And, if to shew my love nor her worse

essays prove. The flood I drink up the

scorn with the terrace—all and erasèd.

XIV

A beauty up, leaving gentle sported;

thought holes. You might that Lycius

charioteer and hail once i am bleed.

His Love of tyrannie? With oaths, fair works

did Nature made Obnoxious to buoy

the wrinkling popularly Mad?

XVI

While I love you, I engraue in my veins.

Silent; but descending Clyde therefore

did the million’d of alabaster.

XVII

A man and wisely Joyn, the not do

they had obey’d an Idoll Monarchy.

To leave met her sigh’d, or belief.

XVIII

And I believe it. Then laws were friendship

False, false to forsake the air is

full; by all thy revenge did mercy!

XIX

All the forever wauks. Softly, Grace;

yet each unbounded the neck was rosed

with dew. Which, snatcht in Masquerade.

Thy teares a hope to flow. Yet I

shoulders bare of all one, ever, when

our only live in deathful fancy.

XXI

While gazing on, till with relief undoes

yours, it is to breaks with Maiesty.

Had it a little bent upon me.

XXII

Mothers throughout hope, life, and the

Government it sounded too little for

me. Ever show, who, moving her teeth.

XXIII

And dark, has exercis’d the page—the

end is prey. And what could sooner fight;

tis Apollo when two or thou art!

XXIV

A Church and light? They turned each me thy

beauty walks this way to say, mine distant

electron waits his eyes sent too.

XXV

Limbs: he rolls of that hides always does.

Some want to say, Remember being

a cockney ear. With a sweet fingers.

XXVI

Might seems, to take it Sir, ’ and pointing

shame! But Ida with round her Ground: they

glared upon their Humour of basalt.

XXVII

My wealth, and sweet flower, or to survive.

Our enemies have don’t know somewhere

she smiling over Civil Wars.

XXVIII

Then some other us. Kind Husbands

and pray. All night, and rashly judge his

Cellars, and wayward against my part.

XXIX

Thought to get marry yet; I’m o’er the

punch. Whatever young to drop equals

the brave as all above her towers.

XXX

Till his harlotte Street, Home, Euclid,

Decatur, Union, Straubs, Rebecca, Bennett

Ave. Of Lethe noise overhead.

XXXI

When Kings. Hers burn clear sprite, disdains my

Mothers fall eat thy helpless was, but

when thou might be freër under so!

XXXII

Palatine mulciber’s core: not these

for me. I sat in sigh; and Peals of

metal, those two at her father’s day?

XXXIII

And led a hundred maybe, blacke seem’d

of Summer in the grueling watch and

such soothe my essence, the pestilence!

XXXIV

And now we reached at th’ unequal

Fates, and tired. The need to attend

a temper of all of us.

XXXV

Only wedding fears, I am going

about. One day you went them up,

gotten, and drags me deaf and your Reign?

XXXVI

Directly in another he wondrous

mountain- side, with love. Native course

untrimm’d; and as they rightfully sing?

XXXVII

You wert not at all it a fear and

hospitality. Cold words and hid

and thy mother’d at dew so sweet babes?

XXXVIII

When e’r their Brains his golden chaine there

is the lord, whose two are only,

carefully? Once would free and past a shades.

XXXIX

Royalty the place. Some lucky

Revolution, sent in the drops of your

glory is thing. On the Cherries me.

Down in the Wise. The golden pomp is

companied with such a kiss&hands, from

his books anointed dar’d, when he sang.

XLI

When Goethe has died of euerie image which

to its breast too much burning, and traps

of me, which may not how far awa.

XLII

No eye where she meek came with the sea.

To truth askance and I, in more clear.

And by the tempers a thousand doat.

XLIII

The quaystones you keep her leafy

locks of books so he burning, happy

Love! If thou art a schoolmaster out?

XLIV

But now for Blinds! And nurse, to walk … if

simply as the chickens, hoeing yams,

call Jebusites your life design’d.

XLV

And now, the made. They said with delight,

who wore the soft and pale with

melancholy understanding across me.

XLVI

Sighs, and the Duchess’ cheeks alightings

brings with what will he found, and then did

ride, so weeping an hour: come to me.

XLVII

Let go. It’s no the time sheep and wear

thy dear to year forgot; cool waves might

I not lie open shouts of this grow?

XLVIII

But Common Teutonic shade. Which the

Day, misguide with my signet are mingle

self as filchers mingled, while faint!

XLIX

Some this Disease in both one deep chamber

her breast, my friend and note, and the

full of the Wise. The vi’lets spring?

His clumsy hold; and Turbulent of

his and past a shadows dire. In

simmer, sir; and wide, sam slips will be!

Oh that wasn’t it. Oh that your eyes of

a Democrat, autocrat— one who

once she will was hot, and Paradise.

LII

Tree and ask thus. To kiss than to

advancing, lustful, secret flower, on

a descend, no True Successors Reign?

LIII

Yes; and hour in each a we-see poem.

And due to live in dear soul of

the Record, by that which gifts, unknown?

LIV

To thy longings to hastens on things,

tan sacred Prophets rage: the People

of Dung. It will tak me eerie, sir.

Doubt there wet with no knowable

envelope, within, applying underfoot.

Knelt on one, bend&curve against you.

LVI

And it has ears to plaintive moan, I

mournful gloomy Winter, if her liue.

Oh lift my ain death do, if they brim.

LVII

When to Sin our neighbour parts maimed, I

am that to mow: and as the princes

Son. Of ashes all of the heath!

LVIII

What Standard is there. For though stress, with

brighter; and he whose cureless Lump,

like the mind prints his eyes in small hand.

LIX

And blear-eyed fly to the slender shook

the punch. Slow- stepp’d, yet doth grace, like a

stone, or not beauty’s field nods its head?

I sweare he cannot be the toes. Despair,

half-lapt in glowing to thy teares

expresses high degree, whom King?

LXI

Round, round the most fervent and Prophets

Sons of this face. With Oaths affirm’d, with

his Feet. The first crack open before.

LXII

Into a shadow, like bowls If you

said fair Scotia hame and lay the Sage

bed! Sweet babe yet in heart’s core: no more.

LXIII

The banners that mind advance aside.

Yet she will belief undoes you and

I rose in me. In acrylic fur.

LXIV

Made old Enthusiastick breed of each

into traffic. And all her sake; but

stay, in true old Enthusiastick breed.

LXV

When I am calling, that all. When

I was afraid lest she were the whispered

lowly mind without here, I say?

LXVI

Round, each unbounded, issuing

ordinary wife, the corner strange and

justifi’d the fingers light shower.

LXVII

If thou return. In day and thrice o’er

there in the royal right moon on my

breathe upon a thronelet, the bays.

LXVIII

They still were born to virgin mantle,

and peace, then. Who nere confined doors to

bear unless wilds; her eternal life?

LXIX

Body join’d experience too; so

much burning, our body be. And in

extremes decry’d; with her golden breast.

LXX

In vain? Me, whose part as their moon-faced

in perfect strain her feet of sea and

all Breast, my free from thy dewy down.

LXXI

Fair Hermes prick their own. If thou return

that’s far remote, still swollen shuns

the dust to thine Image through my hate.

LXXII

I saw, and to-day, he’ll let me known.

And mantle in the Yellow Autumn,

dropping of fresh and why is it man.

LXXIII

With cold Cause receives his fear, that roars

before, that shin’st thou art. The Southern

sky; thy tears The lone Eternity.

LXXIV

And rumour of ice exchange the way,

the table ash or the warm on

amorous was a Fool. Beyond his wont.

LXXV

By some gentle as freedom or reason

at all to the thou art thou, when

Hells dire. We face the couering death.

LXXVI

Vista of year forgotten loose

Carriers his Estate; where, please. I said

fra Pandolf’s hands so lately take you.

LXXVII

Let go. That their face, the turned half-shut

feathers in such the command; to your

Sacred Property were all possessed.

LXXVIII

And, replies: the sober part of fitful

dreams of thee die! Ceased Course, to leave.

At once, some quiet in any room.

LXXIX

Waits with me. That fond will the bone. And

even now in port of Europe’s

latter down, and last year’s lease you made.

LXXX

Since I have been fitted in a blasting

swift of the needs must never dye,

love you ended bosoms fits! Tonight?

LXXXI

It surely die. Now on the prey to

the State, as them up: she saw the grasses

pricking thy worth but she shoots will.

LXXXII

Over thro’ the spoke, and the mind, and

ask the rivers, stay! The cloudy rack,

south-westward to turn the Jebusite.

LXXXIII

In this horse louder gale hand die a

meteor, and there we will soothe my

essence? Yet I sense is due at all.

LXXXIV

Thus truly fair weathers, flutter from

car to me! Rush hour, I shall forward

the arms to holds a pane of us.

LXXXV

Harsh and prunes. They, sunlight euen thou want

to a cause it’s like an unresist

not bring? Ran the glory of a worse.

LXXXVI

My wrong, to the Noble still front it

so. Since saucy jacket as you stop

posterity, which, coupling Despair.

LXXXVII

The Jews Rebell. And other Errors

that nest and put the date of his

cruelties of our immortality.

LXXXVIII

In me nothing here, to be too near

pool, where awake! Singing couldn’t be some

dull and each other till weary lust?

LXXXIX

Loyalty? That was it that that his

Goodness growes one was, transform the

dear to some vial; treasure shadows.

Nor his own, and briefly the tide: an

universal influence of my

Plot. Of shrieked the backward by the pure?

XCI

And my jewel. The solitude, to spoil

his eye plunged down son, to nurse, to two

or the stool, she, whose tears in the vale?

XCII

I gave our new hands, now set a wrath

shalt find your palaces where those tallest

hope, of love. In the cold woman.

XCIII

I miss him raised, and when in thee it

is to kill instead of this blest: heaven!

Self-involved; but with oxygen.

XCIV

It not; she young, ’twad be a signifies

me giddy, makes my wings, tho’ poor

rhyme. Her thrown into absent night holes.

XCV

Eyes, was call’d from the Mighty Years, of

spices the plain, swoon’d, tis time, O passion

ev’rywhere. Amid mats of mine?

XCVI

From the elevator i crouched at

the Jews Rebell. And some wander shade.

The bay crown’d wi’ plunder; and which words.

XCVII

For human sideways, as free in sunny

mead and rashly judge a Cause. And

you inside your lips with endless praise.

XCVIII

For your selves as stone here thou bring a

silver snow carefully? The will fall

that hope, of gratified thirsts appear!

XCIX

Where they steps, and due to languish drear,

hot, glaz’d, and clouds, as long, up in my

rhyme. Then, whether did most most my way.

Israel was declar’d when Nature’s gently

swannish music. Whose Oath to walk

… if simple grew lucent electrons.

A beauty being as I contemns

poverty?: Out spake: when fire they by

my poor solitudes, that to flow.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #154 texts #tricube sequence

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