#delphian

[transingthoseformers]

Wondering about if First Aid and Ambulon had known about the deal with Tarn from the start (for the consequences)

[rhianna]

The Delphic oracle, its early history, influence and fall, by Rev. T. Dempsey, with a prefatory note by R. S. Conway.

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Main AuthorDempsey, T.Language(s)English PublishedOxford, B.H. Blackwell, 1918. SubjectsDelphian oracle Delphian oracle. Physical Descriptionxxiii, 199, [1] p. 20 cm.

[novafire-is-thinking]

Pharma’s Name

I’ve already compared Pharma’s design to the Angel of Death and his arc to that of Icarus.

But if I’m correct about Pharma’s name, Roberts and Milne’s mythological and historical references don’t stop there.

To start, there are the obvious explanations for the name (courtesy of TFwiki):

Then there’s the origin of “pharmaceutical”:

Now, phármakon (φάρμακον) can mean either ‘remedy’ or ‘poison,’ depending on the context. This duality is present in Pharma’s character too. For most of his life, he was an excellent doctor—one of Cybertron’s best. But what was once a remedy became a poison.

A similar word is pharmakós (φαρμακός):

Yes, you read that right.

“Delphi”

“unjustly tried and executed by the Delphians” and “thrown from a cliff”

Hey JRO…did you mean to imply Pharma was Tarn’s scapegoat?

Hey JRO…did you mean to imply Pharma was unjustly tried and executed?

Hey JRO…can you make Pharma any more tragic?!

(Nowhere has JRO said anything about being inspired by either pharmakón or pharmakós, but I strongly suspect he was at least inspired by the latter because the similarities are striking.)

[apiswitchcraft]

orphic hymns to apollo and diana

i should mention that i did NOT write these!! they are from like the 1st century AD lol

APOLLO:

Blest Pæan, come, propitious to my prayer, illustrious power, whom Memphian tribes revere,

Slayer of Tityus, and the God of health, Lycorian Phœbus, fruitful source of wealth.

Spermatic, golden-lyred, the field from thee receives it's constant, rich fertility.

Titanic, Grunian, Smynthian, thee I sing, Python-destroying, hallowed, Delphian king:

Rural, light-bearer, and the Muse's head, noble and lovely, armed with arrows dread:

Far-darting, Bacchian, two-fold, and divine, power far diffused, and course oblique is thine.

O, Delian king, whose light-producing eye views all within, and all beneath the sky:

Whose locks are gold, whose oracles are sure, who, omens good reveals, and precepts pure:

Hear me entreating for the human kind, hear, and be present with benignant mind;

For thou surveys this boundless æther all, and every part of this terrestrial ball

Abundant, blessed; and thy piercing sight, extends beneath the gloomy, silent night;

Beyond the darkness, starry-eyed, profound, the stable roots, deep fixed by thee are found.

The world's wide bounds, all-flourishing are thine, thyself all the source and end divine:

'Tis thine all Nature's music to inspire, with various-sounding, harmonizing lyre;

Now the last string thou tuned to sweet accord, divinely warbling now the highest chord;

The immortal golden lyre, now touched by thee, responsive yields a Dorian melody.

All Nature's tribes to thee their difference owe, and changing seasons from thy music flow

Hence, mixed by thee in equal parts, advance Summer and Winter in alternate dance;

This claims the highest, that the lowest string, the Dorian measure tunes the lovely spring.

Hence by mankind, Pan-royal, two-horned named, emitting whistling winds through Syrinx famed;

Since to thy care, the figured seal is consigned, which stamps the world with forms of every kind.

Hear me, blessed power, and in these rites rejoice, and save thy mystics with a suppliant voice.

DIANA:

Hear me, Jove's daughter, celebrated queen, Bacchian and Titan, of a noble mien:

In darts rejoicing and on all to shine, torch-bearing Goddess, Dictynna divine;

Over births presiding, and thyself a maid, to labor-pangs imparting ready aid:

Dissolver of the zone and wrinkled care, fierce huntress, glorying in the Sylvan war:

Swift in the course, in dreadful arrows skilled, wandering by night, rejoicing in the field:

Of manly form, erect, of bounteous mind, illustrious dæmon, nurse of human kind:

Immortal, earthly, bane of monsters fell, 'tis thine; blest maid, on woody hills to dwell:

Foe of the stag, whom woods and dogs delight, in endless youth who flourish fair and bright.

O, universal queen, august, divine, a various form, Cydonian power, is thine:

Dread guardian Goddess, with benignant mind auspicious, come to mystic rites inclined

Give earth a store of beauteous fruits to bear, send gentle Peace, and Health with lovely hair,

And to the mountains drive Disease and Care.

Dividers by @vibeswithrenai

[gods-and-accolades]

Prayer to Apollon : ̗̀➛ Απολλων

┏━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━┓

O, Delphian King, to you I pray!

To you of golden locks and of brightest face.

I pray to thee

Slayer of Python

Lover of poets

And of artists whom you rejoice in.

To the Muses’ head

To the divine son of the Lord Zeus who delights in thunder above

And the kingly son of the Titaness Leto of beautiful tresses.

To the twin of archer and huntress Artemis.

Bringer of healing, bringer of plague

You who plays the sweetest of melodies upon the golden lyre

I pray to thee still.

Musician, healer, warrior, defender of thine own

I pray for your favour as I navigate this gift of life and her endless roadblocks.

I pray for your gentle gaze so that I may know I am not wholly alone.

God of light, holder of prophecies

I pray for this and for your everlasting glory

And I shall remember and honour you, my God,

As long as I may live.

┗━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━┛

[thetelesterion]

Blest Pæan, come, propitious to my pray'r, illustrious pow'r, whom Memphian tribes revere, Slayer of Tityus, and the God of health, Lycorian Phœbus, fruitful source of wealth . Spermatic, golden-lyr'd, the field from thee receives it's constant, rich fertility. Titanic, Grunian, Smynthian, thee I sing, Python-destroying, hallow'd, Delphian king: Rural, light-bearer, and the Muse's head, noble and lovely, arm'd with arrows dread: Far-darting, Bacchian, two-fold, and divine, pow'r far diffused, and course oblique is thine. O, Delian king, whose light-producing eye views all within, and all beneath the sky: Whose locks are gold, whose oracles are sure, who, omens good reveal'st, and precepts pure: Hear me entreating for the human kind, hear, and be present with benignant mind; For thou survey'st this boundless æther all, and ev'ry part of this terrestrial ball Abundant, blessed; and thy piercing sight, extends beneath the gloomy, silent night; Beyond the darkness, starry-ey'd, profound, the stable roots, deep fix'd by thee are found. The world's wide bounds, all-flourishing are thine, thyself all the source and end divine: 'Tis thine all Nature's music to inspire, with various-sounding, harmonising lyre; Now the last string thou tun'ft to sweet accord, divinely warbling now the highest chord; Th' immortal golden lyre, now touch'd by thee, responsive yields a Dorian melody. All Nature's tribes to thee their diff'rence owe, and changing seasons from thy music flow Hence, mix'd by thee in equal parts, advance Summer and Winter in alternate dance; This claims the highest, that the lowest string, the Dorian measure tunes the lovely spring . Hence by mankind, Pan-royal, two-horn'd nam'd, emitting whistling winds thro' Syrinx fam'd; Since to thy care, the figur'd seal's consign'd, which stamps the world with forms of ev'ry kind. Hear me, blest pow'r, and in these rites rejoice, and save thy mystics with a suppliant voice.

Orphic Hymn to Apollon, translated by Thomas Taylor.

[talonabraxas]

Servant of Delphian Apollo! Go to the Castalian spring; Wash in its silvery eddies, And return cleansed to the temple. Guard your lips from offence. To those who ask for oracles Let the god's answer come Pure from all private fault. -Euripides

Apollo - God of Prophesy, Medicine & the Arts Talon Abraxas

From his holy seat on the slopes of Parnassus, radiant Apollo gazed far out over the wine-dark sea. His long golden locks rippled round his noble head like tongues of a fiery corona, illuminating the mountain crags nearby, casting a glow that streamed down to Corinthian waters below. Far-reaching was the light that shone from that godly form and more far-reaching still the penetrating gaze that followed the distant progress of a small Cretan ship that set sail from Knossos on the Mediterranean Sea. To the ends of the earth those eyes could see and into the secret hearts of men. Looking thus on the small ship's crew, Apollo saw in them the priests he would need for his Delphic shrine. He suddenly transformed himself into the shape of a dolphin and, leaping aboard the vessel, he marshalled the south wind to blow them off course. Seized by forces they could not combat, the startled sailors found themselves swept along past the yawning cliffs of Taenaron where the entrance to Hades gaped. Past Messenia and up along the western Peloponnese they were driven until, at the bidding of the god, the west wind scuttled them into the Corinthian gulf and onto the bay near grape-laden Krissa. At this gentle shore Apollo leapt out of the ship as a shining god and bid the crew to mount up to Pytho and become his priests. Dazzled by his power and beauty, they willingly agreed and marched to the melody of his lyre as he took them up the rocky slopes to Delphi.

Six hundred years before the Christian era, the temple of Apollo at Delphi stood in pristine solitude on those rocky slopes. The stadium, theatre, club and round chamber and all the treasuries dedicated by city-states did not yet exist. Even earlier, before the coming of the great god to that place, there were Pythian rituals presided over by seeresses called Pythia who derived their power from the chthonic forces within the earth. There was said to have been a remoteness and dignity possessed by these early Pythia which was enriched during the early centuries that witnessed the flowering of Apollonian religion but was lost by Plutarch's time. After the coming of Christianity the oracle became silent, and Julian the Apostate, in a last effort to restore the finest pagan beliefs, sent a famous doctor, Oribasius, to see if he could revive the spirit of Delphi. For the last time the Pythia spoke, in poignant words to the world outside:

Tell the King the fair-wrought house has fallen. No shelter has Apollo, nor sacred laurel leaves; The fountains now are silent; the voice is stilled.

The last temple of Apollo was plundered and torn down about thirty-six years later, in A.D. 398, by the Christian emperor Arcadius, not to come to light again for over fifteen hundred years. It was fitting that Apollo should have come to Delphi, whose ancient name, Pytho, referred to the sacred function of the seeresses there. The Greeks and others before them considered him to be the personification of seership, appearing to his seers without being visible to other persons present. Cassandra of Troy was one on whom the spirit of Apollo descended, not without violence to her nature. Cursed with a gift of prophecy which none would believe, the poor girl saw the details of her own imminent murder and cried out as her last request to those who could credit her dire vision of death: "Remember me, and say I told the truth!" With this last effort to convey an essential statement about the meaning of her life, Cassandra asserted the primacy of true perception to a priestess of Apollo. Coming from Ilium, she was an example of those who had dedicated themselves to the god's worship along the eastern shores of the Aegean and in inner Anatolia as well. Temples dedicated to Apollo are older and more numerous in these regions, prompting many to assume that he came to the Greeks from Asia Minor. For this reason, they argue, Homer made him the champion of the Trojans, whose persecution of the Greeks is dramatically pictured in the Iliad.

Some scholars claim an Asian, some a northern (Hyperborean), origin for Apollo. Gilbert Murray suggested a compromise which might include both locales through an Asian mother and a Hyperborean father. Of course, in later Hellenic mythology, Apollo is depicted as a son of Zeus, though this may seem to be a somewhat contrived grafting of a foreign god onto an essentially Greek cosmogonical tree. All sources agree that he was a son of Leto, who seems to have had her origin in Lycia, where inscriptions concerning the Titaness are to be found. There is, however, an occult tradition that links up Leto (or Latona) with Hyperborea and with a period of gods much earlier than even the Titanic precursors of Zeus. But in the popular belief of classical times, Leto was associated with Apollo's birth on Delos, whose island inhabitants she promised would host the building of her newborn son's first temple. The Homeric Hymn to Apollo describes how, when his birth was nigh, "she gripped with both hands the palm trees that grew there, and with both feet she kneaded the soft meadowland. The soil laughed beneath her, the god sprang forth and the goddess cried aloud." Forthwith Apollo announced: "Dear to me shall be lyre and bow, and in my oracles I shall reveal to men the inexorable will of Zeus." It is said that swans circled seven times singing around the island at his birth, a mythical detail which marks the importance of the number 7 to the god but also suggests an origin further to the north. Singing swans and the amber associated with Apollo are elements of the northern climes, of that sacred Isle of the Blessed called not Delos, but Hyperborea.

Of this mysterious place the ancients said, "No ship and no traveller can reach that land." In spite of the importance of Delos as a centre of traditional Apollonian ritual, it was commonly asserted by many drawn to the Mysteries that only those whom Apollo chose could see that fabulous Hyperborea. There, it was said, "Phoebus' ancient garden" was located and thither he vanished with his swans every year. Occult tradition reveals an intimate relationship between the name Latona (Leto) and the long (six-month) night of the Hyperborean region which, it is suggested, is the place of her origin wherein all the inhabitants were priests of her son. This polar Hyperborea is said to be the Second Continent, associated with the Second Race, which enjoyed an ethereal state of development long before newer land masses arose to become the seats of more materially evolved Races. Some say Hyperborea was a garden-island that became lost beneath the ice-cap of a changing earth. Others assert that it never physically existed but floated, nay, still floats, in a more ethereal realm where the gods dwell.

There are many mysterious and seemingly scattered elements surrounding the birth of Apollo. The swans connected with it are symbolic of both fire and water, before the separation of the elements. Artemis, Apollo's twin sister, is always present at the time of his birth, as though she were simply a female aspect of himself. It has been asserted that the name Apollo means 'from the depths of the lion' and expresses the relationship of the sun with the fifth sign of the zodiac, Leo. Though this meaning is by no means universally endorsed, it is extremely provocative and reminds one of the passage of Leo 'into the pit', which takes place every sidereal cycle. This suggestively links up with the periodic renovation of the earth, involving the polar shifts associated with the rise and obscuration of land masses on this globe. It explains the tilt of the earth in relation to the zodiacal belt, at which point first Leo and then Astraea (Virgo) disappear below the earth's equator and descend, seemingly, towards its South Pole. It requires little imagination to envision Leto in the place of Virgo and to see her providing the birth channel through which the god of light (the Sun in Leo) can manifest into the grosser, more material world. This is made more intriguing when one recalls that in classical myth Tartarus was said to be a distance below the earth equal to nine days' fall of an anvil from its edge. Pondering the nine days of intense labour Leto underwent in order to bear forth her son, several intriguing connections present themselves and also intimate the difficulty of channelling the pure light of a high solar being into the world.

Equally suggestive is the fact that Leto was the daughter of Koios (Sphairos or 'Ball of Heaven') and would seem to have provided a link between an egg-shaped substance-ancestor and an androgynous deity. This line of generation is tangentially reminiscent of the description by Aristophanes of an earlier race of men whose "bodies were round, and the manner of their running was circular. They were terrible in force and strength and had prodigious ambition. Hence Zeus divided each of them into two, making them weaker; Apollo, under his direction, closed up the skin." H. P. Blavatsky in The Secret Doctrine invites the reader to compare this with Ezekiel's vision of the four divine beings who "had the likeness of a man" and yet the appearance of a wheel, "for the support of the living creature was in the wheel". All this points to an immense evolution from etheric spheres of evolving intelligence to more fragmented and specialized forms involving the work of the lunar Pitris. The article on "Aquarian Civilization" (Hermes, December 1983) sketches in a few glowing lines a lofty overview of this process. It states that many of the gods of old belonged to the First Race of humanity, the demigods to the Second, until, in the Third Race, humanity emerged and passed through several stages from the androgynous to the dual-sexed condition of historic times.

Apollo expresses in his ancestry and nature many of the characteristics found at different levels of this evolution. He is, first and foremost, a high god who is 'Ever-Distant' and who stuns the other Olympian gods with his aloof and stern ways. In the Iliad he is called "the Greater God", said to have appeared in his own form four times in connection with the divine dynasties of the earlier unseparated Lemurians. In his role of solar deity he had thus spawned, as it were, races and lineages within races which themselves were known in the ancient world as solar dynasties. Just prior to Apollo's birth, Leto was pursued by jealous Hera, who sent Python to devour the babe. This 'dragon' represents the Naga of the North Pole who drives out the early Lemurians from a land which is withdrawing from the gradually concretizing world. Like the serpent in the Garden of Eden who precipitates Eve's fall, Python forces the birth of serf-conscious godhood into the world. For the humans-to-be this will remain in potentia, whilst in the god it is full blown. In him is the Creative Fire of Life, acting through seven aspects (as with the Kabiri) upon matter. In myth, Apollo is made to seek revenge for his mother's abuse by going directly to Delphi, where the dragon Python has his lair.

This 'dragon' was sometimes called Delphyne and said to have been female and converted into an Apollonian serpent or Pythia, which was the name of the priestesses who acted as oracles for the god at Delphi. There is, in fact, much confusion about the various dragons and it seems apparent that an older and more profound teaching passed down through the ancient Mysteries had become diminished and popularized to suit a local set of circumstances. The egg of primordial substance – being identified with heaven – had become the omphalos guarded by the Delphian Python, and the wise dragon of the Sacred Isle had become identified with the chthonic powers of the earth and the delivery of her psychic prophecy. In the myths Apollo slew this Python with his arrows, which symbolize the rays of the sun, thus asserting the superiority of solar intelligence over the limited sensibilities of elemental powers. By this assertion Apollo proclaimed himself the archetypal god of the Mysteries. With the full sunlight of mind available through him, human beings could come to see clearly the inner nature of things. In this role Apollo appeared as a mason before Laomedon, Priam's father, and instructed him in the building of Ilium (which, in reality, involved the establishment of the Mysteries at that place and time).

As an archer, Apollo is called 'the Far-Darter'. He (like his sister, Artemis) shoots unerringly and unseen from afar. As he regularly withdraws to Hyperborean darkness, so Apollo ever withdraws from men and remains aloof. In this quality he has been called the most Greek of all gods. Though given to spasms of passionate intemperance, the Hellenes were inclined to subdue this tendency and embraced a measured mode more than the enthusiasm of Dionysiac expression. The Dionysiac temper connotes intoxication, suggesting proximity, whilst the Apollonian advocates clarity and form resultant from distance, an objectivity of cognition. Everything about Apollo rejects entangling things: the melting gaze, soulful mergings, mystical inebriation or ecstatic vision are all disdained. The Apollonian desires spirit rather than soul, purity rather than ardent worship. The upholding of purity is a manifest element in the cool aloofness of Apollo. Ever mindful of the proper order and balance of things, he is quick to punish those who break the sacred codes. Vivid passages in the Iliad portray his wrath as he strides into the path of Patroclus, shattering him in the midst of his charge. It is Apollo by whom Achilles will be vanquished, along with numberless other Greeks at Troy. Because Atrides of the Achaeans refused to return the captive Chryseis to her father Chryses, the god strode down in a fury from Olympus: "And the arrows clanged upon his shoulders in his wrath, as the god moved; and he descended like to night (quickly). Then he sate him aloof from the ships, and let the arrows fly; and there was heard a dread clanging of the silver bow."

So radiant and penetrating is the purity and sharp clarity of Apollo that his fire is too intense for the impure natures of this world. Any amalgamation of partial truths and delusions was doomed before the laser beam of his penetrating glance. Mortals, nymphs and demigods with whom he felt enamoured were in danger of losing their lives in the face of its too concentrated attention. The problem of how a high solar force might manifest in the world was resolved only in stages. Leto had to leave the ethereal purity of Hyperborea to bear him into the world, and,in giving him his lordly vesture, she had to struggle through the realm of Tartarus and back again to a worldly place. The darkness into which he was born was not that of the Blessed Isle but of the world, and yet, even clothed in these limiting vestures in which he manifested from time to time, he remained utterly pure and superior to all conditioned existence. Something of this is captured in the sculptured Apollo at the temple of Zeus at Olympia. One who sees it can never forget it. Outstretched arms enjoin calm. Loftiness shines out of his countenance, whose serenity combines the most delicate curve of jaw and chin with a powerfully regal brow and nose. About the strong and noble mouth there is a delicate, almost melancholy expression of superior knowledge. Virile strength and clarity are combined with the splendour of the sublime. He displays youth in its freshest bloom and purity. He embodies the compelling manifestation of the divine. Amidst the desolation, confusion and impurity of the world, he startles the earth-bound imagination and sends it soaring heavenward.

Such fiery brilliance and purity require a mediator through which it may flow in more moderated ways into the world. And so in the myths Apollo is given a seven-stringed lyre from Hermes, who accepts from the god in return his caduceus. Before this exchange, Apollo possessed but a three-stringed lyre capable of being heard in heaven alone. With the seven-stringed instrument he symbolically acquired the means of playing upon a scale which extended from the realm of the gods all the way to earth. In addition, Hermes became his envoy to the world, the rod upon which the fiery spirit wound downwards and upwards. The intense spiritual light of the solar god presiding atop the serpent-transmitters of its electric power shone from afar, sending its darts here and there but remaining in measured aloofness.

Apollo loves music but suffers no passion from its hearing. It is in the measure of the refrain that he delights, for he is the god of measured things. During the Battle of the Gods described in the Iliad, Apollo replies to Poseidon's polemical challenge: "You would have me be without measure and without prudence, if I am to fight for insignificant mortals, who now flourish like leaves of the trees and then fade away and are dead." This is the god depicted by Pindar, who calls him the promulgator of insight, self-knowledge, measure and intelligent order. "What are we?" he asks. "The shadow of a dream is man, no more. But when brightness comes, and God gives it, there is a shining light on men, and their life is sweet." This brightness which Pindar extols is that of clarity and moderation: the solar fire channelled perfectly and in proper proportion into the changing circumstances of conditioned existence. In music as in the establishment of cities and the sacred Mysteries themselves, Apollo demonstrates an unerring knowledge of the inner and essential order of things. At the god's approach the voices of the forests and grottoes were awakened and, as with singers and dancers, he caused them all to obey his measure. The moderation and sheer beauty of his music restrain all that is wild . . . even beasts are charmed . . . "even stones follow the sound of the lyre and take their place in the masonry walls". Playing his seven-stringed harp, Apollo sits like the solar orb surrounded by the music of the seven planetary spheres. Little wonder all Nature inclines to his rhythm.

Do not give out the great Truths that are the inheritance of future Races, to our present generation. Do not attempt to unveil the secret of being and non-being to those unable to see the hidden meaning of Apollo's heptachord – the lyre of the radiant god, in each of the seven strings of which dwelleth the Spirit, Soul and Astral body of the Kosmos, whose shell only has now fallen into the hands of Modern Science.

The Secret Doctrine, i 167

Spanning the whole nature of Kosmos with his adopted instrument, Apollo embodies the audible key, the tonic note running through all the Pythagorean melodies of manifestation. Emblematic of this are both his lyre and his bow, for are not the two strung with the same sinew? It may be argued that only the lyre is strung with silver strings, but in spanning the Kosmos both must be strung with silver and with animal parts, for their vibrating chords are heard on earth as well as in heaven. The verb ψαλλο (psallo) is used to convey both striking the lyre and snapping the bow-string. Both give off a sound. When Pandarus, under Apollo's guidance, discharged his arrow at Menelaus, "the bow twanged and the string sang aloud". Greeks as well as other peoples have been familiar with the musical bow and some, like Pindar, saw the true singer as a marksman, his song an arrow that never missed. In addition to this, the Greeks habitually pictured the recognition of what is right with the image of an accurate bow shot. Thus, the arrows of Apollo striking the Achaeans sang each their melodic note as they sprang from his bow, but they also signified a precisely accurate measure which, because of the disharmonious action of the Greeks, sang forth in notes of karmic retribution. "The song of the most alert of all gods does not arise dreamlike out of an intoxicated soul but flies directly towards a clearly seen goal" – the Truth. Disharmony and chaotic disturbance are ordered with measure. The wrong is put right. It was, after all, on the day of Apollo's festival that Odysseus returned home and slew the suitors who had desecrated his hospitality.

Measure is best. It is the highest manifest Truth, corresponding with the 'Spiritual Cast' of the Delphian god. Emanating light, order and reason, the arrows he carries are like the midday sun. Like shafts of clear, omnidirectional thinking, they shatter illusion and destroy the self-satisfied complacency of men and women. In his care for purification and retribution, Apollo stands as champion of the rules of occultism, which, as William Q. Judge wrote, "are of the most stringent character, the breaking of which is never wiped out save by expiation". As he did in the case of Orestes, Apollo advises those in distress of what is to be done and what left undone, where atonement and submission might be necessary, always involving an inward clarification of being. He is the exemplar of what the Greeks called σοφροσυνε (sophrosyne), self-control and self-knowledge. His injunction to visitors at his Delphic temple was "Know thyself, and through his oracle he pointed to Socrates as the wisest of all men (who rightly interpreted this to mean that he must devote his life to the pursuit of wisdom through examination of himself and his fellow men). Owing to the primacy of this measured sense of proportionality and self-control, Apollo acts to block the sacrilege of other gods or demigods. In the last book of the Iliad he rises with the pathos of restraining reason and magnanimity in order to put to an end the horrible twelve-day abuse of Hector's corpse. He charges Achilles with ruthlessness and hardness of heart, saying he lacks respect for the eternal laws of Nature and the self-restraint which is seemly for the noble in their bereavement. He admonishes the other gods who have tolerated this abuse:

Yet now you will not even go so far as to save his corpse for his wife and mother and his child to see, and for his father, Priam, and his people, who would burn it instantly and give him funeral honours. Know, it is the brutal Achilles whom you choose to support, Achilles, who has no decent feeling in him and never listens to the voice of mercy, but goes through life in his own savage way, like a lion who, when he wants his supper, lets his own strength and daring run away with him and pounces on the shepherd's flocks. Achilles like the lion has killed pity. And he cares not a jot for public opinion, to which most people bend the knee for better or for worse. He had better beware of our wrath, great man though he is. What is he doing in his fury but insulting senseless clay?

Iliad

Apollo rejects such passion and fury. They distort the measure of Truth. His view is from afar, a broad and extended perspective which causes him to seem oblivious to the worth of an individual as a separate soul. He constantly directs attention away from the state of the individual soul to a contemplation of eternal forms. The Christian may humble himself before God in order to become worthy of nearness, but Apollo, almost harshly, reminds man of his limitations and his finiteness. Only man's truly spiritual virtues (the essence of his perfections and creations) can prevail after death and persist from life to life, "for only the form belongs to the realm of the imperishable". This notion of form is Platonic. It refers to essential archetypal forms which are based on the highest and most abstract mathematics, embodying the noumenal levels of the manifesting Kosmos. Apollo, in accepting the seven-stringed lyre of Hermes, did not abandon his three-stringed instrument. Together they form the Pythagorean decad, but the original three expresses the unchanging, periodically manifest Eternal. The highest element of the classical Greek spirit was associated with Apollo and required a clear-eyed cognition, capable of looking upon all existence as form, "with a glance free alike of greed and of yearning for redemption". The elemental, momentary and individual aspects of the world are thus negated, whilst the essence is acknowledged and affirmed.

A serious consideration of the nature of Apollo should include an examination of the story of Orestes. Written by Aeschylus, who was an Initiate of the Mysteries at Eleusis and who was celebrated by Cicero as a Pythagorean and poet, the saga presents in dramatic form difficult questions concerning levels of right action. For killing his mother, Clytemnestra (to avenge her murder of his father, Agamemnon), Orestes is hounded by the Erinyes (the Eumenides, Furies and Moirai), the guardians of the holy ordinances of Nature. The shedding of his mother's blood is regarded as a violent crime against Nature. The spirits of the spilt blood cry out to heaven and pursue the perpetrator as though he were a wild beast. Madness comes over him. At every step they are near and stare at him with gruesome eyes. Apollo, who has ordered Orestes to avenge his father's murder, stands by him at his trial, where he is to be condemned or acquitted under the presidency of Athene, The prosecutors are the Erinyes, who represent the old feminine gods of the earth confronting the new order of the Olympian spirit. Apollo is repelled by the ghastly earth-spirits, whom he sees as brute and blind in their purpose and procedure. They are knowers of deeds only (not motives) and respond with mechanical inflexibility. They ask: "Have you slain your mother?" Orestes' admission decides the issue for them.

Apollo, as defender, asserts that the issue is not that blood has been shed. The worth of the victim and the indignity visited upon him determine the gravity of the deed. When one remembers the sacrifice of Iphigenia and his obtuse resumption of his kingly estate in Mycenae, it is difficult to see the worthiness in Agamemnon. But he was a noble warrior. His name means 'resolute', referring to his years of hard-fought battle. Apollo recognizes a deeper worth than the deeds that appear on the surface. He condemns the motives behind the seeming piety of Clytemnestra and recoils from the low cunning that guided her in the murder of her husband. He is equally unimpressed by the arguments of the Furies, who reflect the same maniacal passion as Clytemnestra herself. To the jury Apollo proclaims, "The mother is not progenitor of what is called her progeny, but nurse of the new-sown seed. He procreates it who impregnates her." Athene, retaining a vote for herself, also sides with the claims of the father over the mother. She gives her motherless birth as an explanation for defending the masculine spirit of reason against the earth's appeal for revenge.

In one sense, the Aeschylean tragedy celebrates the institution of reasonable authority supplanting the bloody expiation of the old order. The old magic of the seeresses, whose patron is Gaia herself, is put in its place very much like the Pythia of Delphi were incorporated as servants of the new god. But it would be an oversimplification to see Apollo as merely masculine. In his representation of order and clarity he defends his mother and finds his feminine counterpart in his twin. In his pursuit of Daphne he is driven by his love of feminine beauty and purity. When she is taken in by her mother (Earth) and becomes a laurel tree, the tree flourishes at the heart of Delphian religion and remains ever sacred to the god. The love Apollo showers on young boys who have not yet crossed the threshold leading to manhood is of the same essence. He rejoices in the delicate balance of their purity, when their hearts and minds are still clear and unsullied by gross desires. As a great solar deity, Apollo loves such purity not as something outside himself but as reflections of the truth he himself personifies. As it flickers and shines in others, he is quick to recognize it and become its ally. It is not a question of the masculine over the feminine but rather an unswerving embrace of a higher unconditional truth in whatever form it takes. The rights and wrongs of the world produce an endless tangle of accusation and retribution. The deeper measure of morality lies hidden within the mathematics of cosmic form. Always cleaving to this hidden measure, Apollo remains the ever-distant god, but his voice can yet be heard by one who listens intently with inner perception. Did he not promise Orestes, "I shall not fail thee. I shall be thy guide and guardian to the end"?

Apollo's voice speaks in the melodious twang of his unerring arrow, in the penetrating clarity of vision which he represents. His is the cool unsullied beam of Spirit which streams from the earliest Races, wherein the highest intelligence shrouded itself in the most ethereal levels of substance and became gods. From the 'Ball of Heaven', the ancestral substance of his mother, Apollo gained a further footing in the world. Appearing with each increasingly materialized Race, he would then withdraw into solitude where he watched from afar. If his mother is of Asia in origin, it is the East of Sacrifice which provides the means of his periodic manifestation, and he embraces his Hyperborean ancestry with each withdrawal into his Father-Spirit. Thus, as champion of solar intelligence, Apollo ever asserts its penetrating illumination over the limiting sensibilities of elemental powers. The victorious splendour of his clarity conquers all and startles the imagination, which, freed from its subjectivity, soars up to those Parnassian heights where the great god dwells. There, from the ruins of his worldly shrine, will it conquer Python and meet the Mysteries face to face.

Apollo, thy golden-framed beauty Floats along that rocky hill Floats along that rocky hill No Corinthian curve of soil Or hopeful wall of Ilium Could enclose thy brilliant symmetry. For thine is the pure Light of Truth Born at the cosmic dawn And sent like arrows, radiantly.

[hyakinthou-naos]

Theoxenia - 04.07.2025

All Gods Day

Theoxenia, also referred to as 'All Gods Day' within the Temple, is a day of celebration to honor all Hellenic deities and entities. This day, which occurs annually on Theoxenios 7, is a day where we acknowledge and honor all of The Theoi - even those outside of our regular worship and adoration.

This is also the first day of the year in which we celebrate Oracle Consultation - making it an excellent day for communing with the divine and engaging in divination.

Symbols & Decore

Hair Binding/Veiling:

Recommended

Jewelry/Adornments:

No Recommendation​

Foods of Significance:

Homemade Breads

Dishes That Utilize Olive Oil

Honey

Colors of Significance:

Gold​

Red

Blue

Green

Symbols of Significance:

​Imagery of Any of the Theoi

Imagery of Ancient or Modern Greece

Amphoras

History vs Modern Day

According to Pythio.Notion:

"The Theoxenia festival was a feast to welcome the gods into the home. It was often associated with the cult of the dead and may have served a purification purpose. The festival involved inviting various gods, such as Apollon, Leto and the Dioskouroi (Dioscuri), and offering them food at a banquet. The Delphians, in particular, made offerings for the benefit of all of Hellas (Greece) during their Theoxenia."

The Temple of Hyacinthus observes Theoxenia as 'All Gods Day' - a day in which we step out of our personal pantheons, practices, and households Gods and remember the vast and diverse nature of the Hellenic Pantheon.

Eirene - peace and farewell,

- Aön & The Temple of Hyacinthus

[likethestarsatnight]

Orphic Hymn to Apollo

Blest Paean, come, propitious to my pray'r,

Illustrious pow'r, whom Memphian tribes revere,

Slayer of Tityus, and the God of health,

Lycorian Phoebus, fruitful source of wealth .

Spermatic, golden-lyr'd, the field from thee

Rreceives it's constant, rich fertility.

Titanic, Grunion, Smynthian, thee I sing,

Python-destroying, hallow'd, Delphian king:

Rural, light-bearer, and the Muse's head,

Noble and lovely, arm'd with arrows dread:

Far-darting, Bacchian, two-fold, and divine,

Pow'r far diffused, and course oblique is thine.

O, Delian king, whose light-producing eye

Views all within, and all beneath the sky:

Whose locks are gold, whose oracles are sure,

Who, omens good reveal'st, and precepts pure:

Hear me entreating for the human kind,

Hear, and be present with benignant mind;

For thou survey'st this boundless æther all,

And ev'ry part of this terrestrial ball

Abundant, blessed; and thy piercing sight,

Extends beneath the gloomy, silent night;

Beyond the darkness, starry-ey'd, profound,

The stable roots, deep fix'd by thee are found.

The world's wide bounds, all-flourishing are thine,

Thyself all the source and end divine:

'Tis thine all Nature's music to inspire,

With various-sounding, harmonising lyre;

Now the last string thou tun'ft to sweet accord,

Divinely warbling now the highest chord;

Th' immortal golden lyre, now touch'd by thee,

Responsive yields a Dorian melody.

All Nature's tribes to thee their diff'rence owe,

And changing seasons from thy music flow

Hence, mix'd by thee in equal parts,

Advance Summer and Winter in alternate dance;

This claims the highest, that the lowest string,

The Dorian measure tunes the lovely spring .

Hence by mankind, Pan-royal, two-horn'd nam'd,

Emitting whistling winds thro' Syrinx fam'd;

Since to thy care, the figur'd seal's consign'd,

Which stamps the world with forms of ev'ry kind.

Hear me, blest pow'r, and in these rites rejoice,

And save thy mystics with a suppliant voice.

Queenie's verson which I love:

[apollon-quotes]

"Hië, Hië, Paeëon, we hear – since this refrain did the Delphian folk first invent, what time thou [Apollo] didst display the archery of they golden bow. As thou wert going down to Pytho, there met thee a beast unearthly, a dread snake. And him thou didst slay, shooting swift arrows one upon the other; and the folk cried “Hië, Hië, Paeëon, shoot an arrow!” A helper from the first thy mother bare thee, and ever since that is thy praise."

- Callimachus, Hymn to Apollo

[missrandomdreamer]

Touch

Sir Crocodile x Delphina drabble

finally finished it to post after forever lol working on Smoker and Beatrice's writing still for part 2 <3

Warning: kind of suggestive, language: a bit spicy maybe idk? (They are showering together but nothing explicit ? )

The little trio had found a small island to rest awhile and was greatly appreciative of this island having a bath house and hotel.  However, unfortunately for Delphina the bathhouse only had coed baths. Fortunately though, Delphina, Crocodile and Bones were the only ones seemingly wanting to use it or perhaps they were the only ones staying there. Crocodile paid the innkeeper before the older woman led the trio to their room. She kept giving a side eye to Delphina who didn’t meet her eyes. Delphina was used to people looking at her weird but not in the weird context of her being the lone female between two very large men. She shifted uncomfortably in her posture and tried to make herself smaller. The little frog woman wished she had turned into a frog and just had one of the men carrying her in so she wouldn’t have to get stared at. “Too late for that now.” Delphina thought gloomily as she tried to hide herself behind Crocodile’s massive frame. 

The innkeeper woman with a bad case of kyphosis stopped in front of the door to unlock it. She gave the key to Crocodile before stepping aside,  “Here is your room for the week. Breakfast is at 8 o clock sharp to 10 am. You are free to use the coed bathhouse and we do provide cleaning services for your clothing. Towels, robes and extra blankets and pillows are in the closet there.” She pointed to a closet just across from the entrance of their room. “If you need anything the front desk is open from 7-7, if you want something after or before that you are out of luck. Have a good visit.” She bowed to them and left them, not before giving a look to Delphina and shaking her head before hobbling away. Delphina stuck her tongue out at the woman as she turned her back to her.   Sir Crocodile rolled his eyes and Bonez just shook his head at Delphina’s childishness and went on through the room with Delphina at their heels. 

The room was neither big nor too small, feeling cozy to Delphina. There was a large sliding door that looked out into the gardens,where even now Delphian could hear small frogs starting to croak for the night.  Three comfy looking futons laid side by side, one for each of the guests. Delphina had been used to sleeping in the middle of the two-partly because they wanted to make sure she didn’t escape if she did try to leave them (Which she hadn’t been planning on it) and also because Delphina honestly liked being in the middle, she felt safe with them now.  Delphian laid bags down in front of the middle futon, already retrieving a smaller bag inside that held her toiletries. The frog woman had already learned to make her own shampoo, conditioner and soap then relying on typical  bathroom products. Her sensitive skin made it impossible to to use anything but her own concoctions.  

Crocodile and Bonez dropped their bags to their respective beds on either side of her. Bonez cracked his neck looking between the two. Delphina hoisted her bag into her arms returning the large man's gaze. “I dont know what you guys are doing but I’m going to shower,”Delphina announced.  Before the two could stop her she was already making her way at the room, “I’ll be back in a bit, don’t have dinner without me!” she called. The two men just stared at each other, as they heard her make her way down the hall.

“Are you okay with her just leaving like that?” Bonez asked quietly looking back to the entrance of their room. 

“Ill go with her.” Crocodile answered, already heading towards the door. “Enjoy the peace and quiet while you can,” he gave a smirk to the young man. Bonez lips flickered into a small smile. When Bonez and Crocodile started working again together, they hadn’t minded the silence that usually came between the two. They both liked the quiet, since they were both in some ways very introverted. However, now with Delphina the two hardly ever had any peace or quiet, or a chance to have a word in any conversation. “Enjoy the onsen, Mr.1 you deserve a vacation.” Crocodile bowed his head before leaving down to track down Delphina.

Bonez watched him go shaking his head, he knew there was something between the two but he didn’t say it. He knew it wasn’t just to keep tabs on Delphina but also to be closer to her though he never would have thought the old warlord would go as far as to follow her into a shower room. Still seems his boss was full of surprises.

Delphina folded her clothes neatly into the locker, still looking around her to make sure no one was there. She let out a nervous breath as she quickly wrapped the white towel around her before tiptoeing to the shower area with her small bag in hand. She gently withdrew her homemade shampoo, conditioner and soap setting them up just so on the little ledge in front of her.  It was then she heard the steps of someone behind her. Delphina immediately froze and spun around, body still clothed in her little towel as she looked up to meet the tired gaze of Crocodile. He had yet to strip from his regal clothes to a towel, though his hand had already been removing his ascot. 

Crocodile raised an eyebrow and looked down at the grumpy blushing frog woman. “What?”

“Couldn't you wait to shower after me? I don't want your old pervert eyes looking at me while I shower.”  She put out her chin to try to show her confidence but inside she was freaking out. 

“No.”  He said, taking off his fur collared coat, folding it carefully, then proceeded to unbutton his tight black shirt.

“What about the onsen? Bonez is probably going there? Why do you have to shower right near me?”  Her eyebrows furrowed trying not to get drawn to the fact that the man was stirpping right in front of her eyes and he didn’t care and she honestly should not be watching it still. 

Crocodile paused in mid movement, his masculine large cleavage just yelling at Delphina.  “I prefer the showers, I'm not a fan of baths.”  he said gruffly, shirt finally slipping off of him. Delphina’s eyes widened at the site of his bare muscular back, “If you don’t want me here then why are you staring?”  Crocodile asked, glancing over his bare shoulder, a flicker of a smart-ass smirk on his lips, eyebrow slightly raised.

Delphina immediately changed the color of a red rose and she swished her head away. “I-I was staring and hoping to make you uncomfortable to leave.”

She heard the zipper of his pants making her blush redden, he chuckled, “How about you leave then? If you don't want to shower with me?” Delphian could just imagine him shaking off his pants as he continued to strip. Another bit of a thought of them showering close together…She shook her head to get rid of the thoughts.

“UGH! I am not showering with you first of all Sandy Pants! We are going to be showering next to each other. And why should I leave when I was here first!?” She sputtered holding onto her own towel tightly.

The locker closed and she heard his steps behind her, she couldn’t stop her head from turning to see the large 8 foot giant of a man sit next to her, towel (which was a very small towel) covering up his lower half.  He turned to her, cocking his head slightly, a bored and now annoyed expression came over him.  “Just shut up and shower. You are making a big deal over nothing.” Amusement in his face was gone-she had pushed him and now he was going to be a sourpuss. 

Delphina glared at him but swished her head away, “Fine. Whatever, just don’t go staring at me.”

She turned on the shower and then positioned herself so her back was facing Crocodile. Her towel was still covering her up, if he hadn’t been there she would have at least let it drop to her hips to clean but now she was self-conscious with the man there.  She heard Sir Crocodile huff in amusement. “ I think I deserve something of a peak after you were ogling me with those golden eyes of yours. “

Delphian froze letting the water run in front of her, she turned to glance at him and he was still looking at her, a small lazy smile on his lips now.  She pouted and without much of a thought she dropped her towel, screw it, if he wanted to be an ass then so be it. It’s not like he will like what he sees anyway, he won't look long. (Or so she thought she was very wrong about that.  ) Crocodile’s eyes widened a bit and that smile dropped from his face. She didn’t even  notice the small blush forming on his cheeks as she snapped her face away from him.  “Fine! You want to see me then all you are gonna get is my backside and it’s not gonna be pretty.” She retorted as she now turned on the shower full blast and proceeded to drown her bowed head in the water. 

Crocodile just stared at the woman in front of him. Her front was turned from him but her back and lower buttocks were right there for him to look at and he did so. His eyes wandered over her vitiligo skin admiring the unique patches of lighter color against her caramel skin complexion. He wanted to trace them, she looked so soft and the way her skin hung in certain places she looked irresistibly squishy: a stark contrast to Crocodiles own rough and taunt skin. Crocodile eyes couldn’t leave the masterpiece before him. He hadn’t even turned on his own shower head yet instead he rose and leant over Delphina causing her breath to hitch- she could feel his broad chest touch the back of her head and a shiver ran through her,

“What the hell are you-!?” But the froggy lady voice caught in her throat as she watched Crocodile’s large hand cover the soap she had made, taking it away from her grasp. “Hey! What-”

“Might as well wash your back for you, not like your small little chubby hands could reach it.” he said gruffly, scooting over his chair closer to her. “You could do mine as well- call it even.” 

Delphina sputtered out and as she turned around she had to grab the towel again to cover her chest, “Hey-hey I said we are not showering together this is… “ she paused and met Crocodiles eyes. “This is…showering together..” she murmured, her golden eyes lost in his violet ones.  Crocodile’s gaze was sharp but there was a new emotion she couldn't pinpoint in those eyes, it made her heart beat a bit too fast, his hand still held her soap and he raised an eyebrow. What he said in that husky low tone of his, made Delphina’s mind go blank. 

“Only the back, that’s all I’ve seen of you, so that is all I will wash. Sound good?” Delphina’s face burned, the fucking nerve of this man. Delphina gave him the most heated glare she was capable of, 

“Fine, Croco-Ass I’ll do the same to you then and your stupid hair cause it looks greasy and gross and needs a cleaning.”

Crocodile’s lips twitched to a smile, “Fine, I’ll do your hair then make it even.” his voice practically purred. God she hated him. Delphina gave him a glare, 

“Deal that’s it though and don't make it weird.” She pointed at him, jabbing him in the chest causing a low rumble of laughter to come from him. God she really hated him.  Delphina turned around again, towel dropping back down her hips while she folded her arms in front of her chest, body hunched over. She tried to stop the small tremor that went through her when Crocodile brought the shower head to her back and let the warm water race down it and down her shoulders.He then brought the soap and started to lather her skin, starting with the back of her neck, shoulders and then slowly-agonizingly slowly down her back. This sand man was enjoying this wasn’t he?

To be honest, Crocodile was trying to take in as much detail of her back as he could. He guided the soap around each part of her body tracing the outline of the patches, imagining he was lining them with gold like kintsugi pottery.  He continued to guide the soap around her folds in her skin and dip to her love handles, letting his fingers brush them, he felt Delphina tense underneath his touch. He was gentle though in his touches especially around her stretch marks. She was so soft he fought every urge not to pull her against him and let her softness envelope him. 

“Crocodile…”

“Hm?” 

“I think I’m plenty clean. You can wash the suds off  now.” she sighed and held herself more, “You can't get those light patches out of the skin now matter how hard you scrub.” a half ass laugh came from her lips but Crocodile wasn’t laughing. Crocodile dropped the soap, letting out a growl. Delphina felt a cold wash of fear rush over her, she looked over her shoulder to meet the intense glare of the Crocodile. In a flicker of movement he grabbed her face and brought his own close to it. Delphina's eyes widened and there was genuine fear there for the first time with that man, 

“I’m not scrubbing them from your back.” he hissed. His nose was touching hers, his eyes narrowing burning into her own,  “Im admiring them.” he was so close to her lips she could feel his breath caress them, she gulped, too close-too close! “Is that a problem, Miss Delphina?” She could feel the reverb of his husky baritone in his chest. “Why do you insist that I think your skin is grotesque? You are putting your own words about yourself into my mouth and I don't care for it.”  Delphina bottom lip and throat quivered. Crocodile looked at her eyes still narrowed but taking in her expression before closing his and dropping his hand from her face. She quickly turned her face away and held back the tears that were threatening to fall. 

Crocodile sighed and picked up the shower head and gently rinsed the soap from her back before moving to her hair. “Haven't you ever felt self conscious about your missing hand?.” Delphina murmured. “Ever felt the eyes of everyone looking at you thinking you had some sort of disease or you were cursed in some way? Did they ever laugh at you or mock you?” She shivered and Crocodile knew then she was crying but her voice didn't betray her.

Crocodile’s hand tightened its grip on the shower head. “ Yes. It bothered me when I was younger, when it first happened.” He brought the warm water down her back then up to her head again. “It was hard, not only adjusting to no longer having a hand but to the whispers, the stares.” He put the shower head down and put out his hand for her shampoo which she gave to him. “ But with time, I mastered it and for those who laughed at me, I paid them back tenfold.” He gently applied the shampoo into her hair, lathering it, raking his long fingers from her scalp down to the ends. She let out a soft noise. 

“How did you do it?”

“Do what?” His fingers again massaged her scalp causing another soft noise from her.

“Stop caring about what people think of you?”

Crocodile paused for a moment, his finger curling around a strand of the woman’s hair, lost in thought. Delphina forced herself not to turn her head to look at him. Crocodile dropped the hair he was curling around his finger, “Put your head back, please.” Delphina nodded timidly, she brought up the towel to cover her chest once more before she put her head back to meet the distant eyes of Crocodile.  He combed her hair gently away from her face, his touch was so gentle.  “I overcame them by realizing I was better than them. I knew I was superior to them in many ways and then their small minded opinions had no more of an effect on me.” 

Delphina blinked up at him, his eyes still seemed so far away as he combed back her hair with shampoo. Her lips flickered into a smile, she laughed softly, “You would say something like that, huh.” her eyes closed, “That doesn’t help me at all though.” She thought while  Crocodile continued to comb her hair then brought the shower down to wash her hair, rinsing the soap from it. “Wish I had your confidence.” she muttered. Crocodile made an annoyed sound before letting his fingers brush the hair around her ears causing the woman to jump, that shudder ran through her body.

“Ah Crocodile don’t you dare-!”

He did it again this time though moving around the shell of her ear with her own wet hair, the tickling sensation making her squirm. “AH! Crocodile knock it off, right NOW!” Again, Crocodile moved his fingers and her own wet hair around her ear before blowing a breath gently there as well.  She squirmed and pushed his hands away, a ghost of a giggle escaping her lips. 

“Ill stop it when you stop moping.” He now went for her other ear, caressing it lightly then letting his fingers drip down her neck, she let out a giggle now, that caused his lips to flicker into a smirk. She turned around and pushed his hands away, giving him a look-trying to seem angry but he recognized the light was back in her eyes.

“You are a real bastard, you know that?” He hummed and moved his hand to gently stroke her cheek before giving it a gentle pinch.

“OW! Ass!”

“Got you to stop moping didn’t I?” Delphina smacked his chest then rubbed  her pinched cheek. 

“Yeah by tickling me into submission.” Crocodile grinned and chuckled,

“It worked regardless. Now turn back around. I'm not done with your hair conditioner next.” He put out his hand for it. She pouted, sticking her tongue out at him again before handing the condition over. 

“Ends only.” she requested and he nodded. He rubbed the small bit of condition into the ends of her hair and let it sit for a moment. 

It was quiet between the two for a minute before she cleared her throat, squishing a puddle of water with her foot. “Thank you… for not being a jerk about how I look and being…nice about it.” her words felt awkward on her lips. “And…cheering me up. You are a bastard but kind of tolerable and sweet…bastard nonetheless.” Crocodile looked at her back again and that smirk fell into a warm smile. 

“Hm, welcome.”  Crocodile couldn’t see she was smiling shyly at him, while he rinsed the rest of the conditioner out of her hair. He let his hand go through her hair one more time to comb it out and make sure it was all clean before his fingers brushed the shell of her ear again. “All done Princess.”  She heard him stand for a moment before sitting once more. She turned around once she knew he was seated.

“I have to use my own soap because you know… chemicals.” 

Crocodile nodded,  “It’s fine.” Delphina got down the shower head and realized that despite the fact the man was sitting on the low stool she still could barely reach his shoulder. She huffed, damn giant.  

Crocodile now heard her move and scoot over her own stool. He soon felt her weight against his back as the water from the showerhead ran down his shoulders and back. The ex warlord tried not to think of her body pressed up against him, with only a towel in between them. He twitched slightly. Meanwhile, Delphina looked at his back more in detail, watching his muscles flex underneath the skin and the water trail down it. She let her one free hand trace his muscles then finding a scar she traced that too. She hummed in approval and Crocodile raised an eyebrow. She then started to lather up his back with soap, starting much like he did with her, starting at the neck and shoulders and moving slowly, slowly down. 

Delphina watched him closely, hoping to make him squirm under her touch like he did to her but the man appeared to be stoic and still as ever though inwardly Crocodile was squirming. He could not remember the last time someone touched him….let alone touch him so gingerly. Crocodile’s body slowly relaxed under the woman’s touch as she massaged his back while washing it. He started to hear her humming to herself as she did so, making him melt even more under her touch. 

“Washing hair now.” she announced and he nodded. Delphi continued to hum as she let the water run over his hair and down his neck, he put his head back without even her requesting it. Delphina hid the laugh threatening to come out at how peaceful he looked. She just kept smiling and humming, now adding the shampoo to his hair. She massaged his scalp and then let her fingers trail down his long black hair; he gave a soft noise of satisfaction. The froggy woman felt her ears burning, “I didn't realize your hair was so long.” She said softly. His eyes flickered open, blinking as if being awoken. Crocodile looked up to see her smiling down at him with soft eyes. 

Mr. 0 eyes widened a fraction and his heart skipped a beat. “Close your eyes, I don't want soap getting in them.” She brushed his cheek and he did as he was told. Crocodile soon felt the warmth against his hair, her fingers combing, continuously massaging his scalp. He had to stop himself from letting out a sigh of pleasure. It all felt so nice, he tried to keep himself awake, but the warmth of the water, the sensation of her fingers in his hair and just her gentle touch…made him sleepy.

“ Are you sleeping?” She laughed softly, adding conditioner to the ends of his hair. 

“Mmm no.” He murmured, in his old raspy tone. She again just laughed at him, causing his face to burn a fraction.

“Almost done.” She let the water rush down his scalp and down to the ends, followed by her fingers, in his sleepy state he let escape a soft hum of satisfaction. The Crocodile's eyes fluttered open when he felt a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Mwah! And with the kiss from the princess you are a handsome prince once again. All done, Prince Sandman. Now finish up your shower and I'll dry your hair.”  Delphina started to step off the stool, careful not to slip. “Don't turn around until I’ve said so.”  Crocodile didn't say anything and just kind of sat there for a moment, completely frozen-dumbfounded. He turned his head slightly, not even registering her command. His violet eyes stared at her side profile, watching the water drip and slide down her round mosaic body in places where he hadn’t been blessed with caressing, all the while her eyes were closed humming softly.

Crocodile let out a hoarse breath before quickly turning his head away.He turned back on the shower on full blast and finished washing up, trying not to be distracted by the woman behind him, and her happy humming. Crocodile tried to drown out her hums with the loud brashness of the water. Tried to drown out the feelings and emotions that were rising over him. He missed her touch and fingers through his hair, but he had to put those thoughts far from his mind. The large man sighed pushing back the strands of hair that fell forward. He had to get himself together, he was falling apart like the cracked desert earth. He needed to keep himself together.

Crocodile might have stayed under the water longer, eyes snapped shut while he heard Delphina already starting to dry off.  He held his breath for as long as he could before letting it out once more, before turning off the showerhead. Crocodile kept his head down as he reached for the towel, not again realizing that now Delphina had turned to look at him,as he dried off. He was so big compared to her, and the way the water clung to his hair and body made her shiver. He was so beautiful. Delphina thought he was going to look up and feel her eyes on him so she quickly turned away to gather her bathroom essentials. Once Crocodile had his own towel, and knowing Delphina was covered they both turned at the same time, Delphina put out a nervous smile at him she beckoned Crocodile to her own level and he obeyed soundlessly. She put a  towel to his hair to dry it, “ I think we should braid your hair.”

“No.”

“Ponytail?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hmm man bun.” She pulled the towel to his shoulders after fluffing his hair revealing a scowl from him but she was just grinning at him cheekily,

“No, Delphina.” He threw a towel over her head and proceeded to dry her hair. He could see her pouting underneath the towel.

“You are no fun, I didn’t even suggest pigtails.” Delphina felt a little pinch to her cheek again, “OW! Stop pinching me!”  Delphina swatted the large man’s hand away again, rubbing the sore spot on her face from Crocodile’s pinch, she looked up to see the bastard smiling in that lazy way that he does. She felt her face blush, “You are such a bastard.” Delphina still pouting took the towel Crocodile used to dry her hair, and threw it over his head. He kind of sat there awkwardly, towel still over his face when he heard Delphina slip on a robe. 

“I’m going back to the room with Bonez at least he doesn’t bully me and you can sit happy and naked by yourself, hmph!” Crocodile face burned as he quickly took the towel off and saw Delphina leaving him, totally not taking in her backside as she did so.  Crocodile, an ex warlord of the sea, a man who could make any number of people cower and fall at his feet in fear, cold and biting as the desert sand had discovered something new about himself. He had another weakness now, and it came in the form of a small but feisty woman who could turn into a frog.

[santoschristos]

Γνῶθι σεαυτόν — I must first Know Myself, as the Delphian inscription says; to be curious about that which is not my concern, while I am still in ignorance of my own self, would be ridiculous. And therefore I bid farewell to all this; the common opinion is enough for me. For, as I was saying, i want to know not about this, but about myself: am I a monster more complicated and swollen with passion than the Serpent Typho, or a creature of a gentler and simpler sort, to whom Nature has given a Diviner and lowlier Destiny???

~ Socrates - Σωκράτης c.470 – 399.BCE

Image by - MendezMendez Art

[brimo5]

When you are about to conclude your subject, employ epithets of the god in the following way. "O Sminthian and Pythian, since my speech began with you and with you it will end, with what names shall I address you? Some call you Lycian, others Delian, others Ascraean, others Actian. The Lacedaemonians call you Amyclaean, the Athenians Patroos, the Milesians Branchiate. You rule over every city, every land, and every nation, and you govern the whole inhabited world, as you dance across the sky surrounded by choruses of stars. The Persians call you Mithras, the Egyptians Horus (for you bring round the seasons), the Thebans call you Dionysos; the Delphians honor you with two names, calling you Apollo and Dionysos , for around you are frenzied women, around you are Bacchants. From you the moon derives its splendour, while the Chaldeans call you the leader of the stars. So, whether you delight in these appellations, or in some more favoured than these, grant that this city may forever flourish in prosperity and that it may forever hold this festival in your honour. And grant grace to these words, for both these words and the city are gifts from you." (Menander Rhetor, 2.16.31 = 445–446)

[ckret2]

So, in shorts, your Goldilocks AU is a Delphian Dodgeball Deposit?

(please bap me for the 3D pun)

there's so much I called that I want to go through and screenshot all the Apollo's dodgeball moments in the book and in my fic, but I haven't gotten around to it yet because I think it would take me at least an entire day

[aliciavance4228]

Photius, Bibliotheca excerpts, 190.33:

Dionysus was loved by Chiron, from whom he learned chants and dances, the bacchic rites and initiations. The author speaks of the "Taraxippos" of Olympus and of the Myrtilloi, father and son. Neoptolemus the Makiotes was the only one to learn from a certain Aithos, a Delphian, the oracle of Phemonoe. It is of this Aithos that Herodotus says, in the first book of his Histories: "although I know his name I will not quote him".

Excuse me, WHAT?!

[talonabraxas]

Servant of Delphian Apollo! Go to the Castalian spring; Wash in its silvery eddies, And return cleansed to the temple. Guard your lips from offence. To those who ask for oracles Let the god's answer come Pure from all private fault. -Euripides

Apollo Talon Abraxas Apollo was a powerful Greek god and one of the Twelve Olympians. He served as the divine patron of prophecy, healing, art, and culture, as well as the embodiment of masculine beauty.

Apollo belonged to the second generation of Olympians, along with his twin sister Artemis, goddess of the wild and hunting. He was commonly represented as a kouros—that is, as a young, beardless male. In ancient art, he could be seen carrying a lyre or a bow and arrow.