#effigy vessel

[arthistoryanimalia]

For #InternationalBatAppreciationDay 🦇:

Art Inspiring Science: The Moche Bat

“The CMA’s bat vessel has traits of the species Dr. Velazco studied. Made on Peru’s north coast by an artist of the ancient Moche or Mochica culture (moe-chay, moe-cheek-ah) (AD 200–850), the vessel inspired him to name the species Histiotus mochica or, colloquially, the Moche leaf-eared bat. He did so to recognize the knowledge of Indigenous peoples and to honor the Moche and their connection to the natural world. Indeed, as he notes in a publication about the species, the bat vessel is so accurately depicted that it allowed precise identification of an animal previously unknown to science and thus stands as a testament to the Moche’s observational skills and profound interest in nature.”

[theancientwayoflife]

~ Eagle effigy vessel.

Date: ca. A.D. 1450

Period: Late Postclassic

Place of origin: Eastern Nahua

Medium: Ceramic with polychrome slip

[dieletztepanzerhexe]

i went to a museum today

[the-unrelated-theorist]

It may just be because it's late and I got up early and I've had a long, tiring day, but... I noticed a similarity.

[sex--gaming]

obsessed with this guy i found at the DIA. his name is either Jaguar Effigy Bottle or Spouted Vessel and i love him

[todayshistory]

Jaguar Effigy Figurine (Middle Formative period approx. 800 BCE). Olmec vessel.

dailyhistoryposts: Jaguar Effigy Figurine (Middle Formative period, approx. 800 BCE). Olmec vessel.

[door]

A Dramatic Salinar Bat Effigy Vessel Peru, Early Horizon - Early Intermediate Period, circa 200 BC - 100 AD

[memories-of-ancients]

Shaman effigy vessel, Guancaste-Nicoya (Costa Rica), 1000-1350 AD

from The Walters Art Museum

[nobrashfestivity]

Unknown, Animal effigy vessel, Costa Rica, Southern Nicoya region, Pataky Polychrome style, 11th-16th century

[nezumidou]

I don't find it too difficult to understand the position Laudna finds herself in when I think that practically her entire life has been defined by how "useful" she manages to be to others.

Her parents wanted a better life for her, and being the daughter of humble farmers, Laudna understood that acquiring a better social status through the development of her inherent arcane abilities could help them lead a kinder life. Her potential usefulness leads them to accept the Briarwoods' invitation to that fateful dinner. Her overall physical similarity to Vex leads her to be useful as an effigy and, upon her awakening as undead, to be useful as Delilah's vessel. Her patron cultivates her as such for decades, until she meets Imogen. And although it has been more than two years since then, only now have circumstances forced her to face this conundrum about herself.

I think it's reasonable that Laudna continues to tie her own self-worth and the way she demonstrates love to others to her capacity to serve and be useful. Even if it leads her astray, it's a sacrifice that comes from love, influenced by her inability to see her self-worth beyond that (without even taking into account that in decades, only a handful of characters have even considered treating her like a human being first; the fear of losing them is greater than the fear of the consequences of protecting them and their bond).

This is not to argue whether certain actions have been right or wrong; it's just to say that where they come from makes sense to me. Especially when in-game, no one has had time to process anything at all.

[centuriespast]

Lobster Effigy Vessel. Geography: South Coast, Peru. Culture - Date: Nazca. c. 300-600 AD. Now on display at the Walters Art Museum.

[arthistoryanimalia]

For #Caturday:

Ceramic bottle modeled in the form of a standing feline, decorated with resist-painted motif. Gallinazo style (aka Virú culture), NW Peru, Early Intermediate Period, c. 200 BCE - 600 CE. Spotted at the American Museum of Natural History NYC.

PS: this vessel may depict the Peruvian subspecies of Pampas Cat aka Northern Colocolo (Leopardus colocola garleppi). The Andean Mountain Cat (Leopardus jacobita) is also often suggested, but their range is more southern and higher elevation than where the Virú were? Also note the stripier legs on the Colocolo similar to the ceramic:

[theancientwayoflife]

~ Effigy vessel of Xipe Tótec.

Date: A.D. 400 to 700

Place of origin: Border area between Guerrero and Michoacan, Mexico

• From the source: This unique vessel was found as part of an offering inside a grave located in La Luz, an ancient settlement located on the banks of the Balsas River in Michoacán. In addition to the vessel, the offering that accompanied the deceased consisted of nine obsidian blades and six shell beads.

[1five1two]

Tonatiuh Aztec Sun God Effigy Vessel. AD-1350-1521–Mexica.

[artifacts-archive]

Effigy Vessel in the Form of a Jaguar

Maya

400-500

This Maya effigy vessel depicts the head and torso of a hunchback human figure wearing a full jaguar-skin costume. Small teeth are visible near the fangs, and hands appear above the paws. Hunchbacks and dwarves were highly respected among the Maya, frequently serving as attendants to rulers. Like the jaguar-skinned dancers depicted on cylindrical vessels, this figure may be impersonating the God of the Underworld, with the scarf around his neck symbolizing human sacrifice and death.

source

[trashprinceward]

A New Vessel - A FAITH Fic (NSFW)

I may as well get this out the way! This was a fic I wrote last year not long after completing the Unholy Trinity. It's kinda ass and real cheesy, but it's the first smut I've written in like 5 years, so I'm kinda rusty.

Summary: Post Profane Sabbath ending. After John loses all faith, he is taken by the cult of The Unspeakable, to be offered up as a new vessel. However, the ritual is a little more intimate than John expected.

Contains: Nudity/sex, crisis of faith, dubcon, "communion" with an eldritch being, trans!John (with possible dysphoria), corruption, slow build due to villain gloating omg. GaryxJohn, UnspeakablexJohn.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by the characters are not necessarily mine. Some minor liberties are taken for the purposes of the story, the plot demands what it must. I'm not a GaryxJohn shipper personally, but it was necessary for the story so if that's your bag, enjoy!

John kneeled before the two broken mannequins, effigies of the lost children he had chased for so long. The children who never were. A symbol of his failure and delusion. On his knees, in supplication and submission, he accepted his fate as he raised his hands towards them. A final plea for mercy. Denied. Instead, each hand was grasped by a demon wearing the forms of the children he had failed. Micheal and Amy, once those who depended on his faith, now the bringers of his judgement. And they judged him to be unforgivable. There was a moment of pain, as he felt the gaze of The Unspeakable upon him. And then, darkness.

_____________

The sound of shuffling feet slowly roused him to the cool air of the room. His feet flinched on the cold, stone floor as the scent of blood filled the air around him. His body ached with stiffness, and a sharp pain that pulsed through his neck. His arms were raised, suspended by restraints above his head. Slowly, his eyes opened as he awoke, taking in the darkened room around him, barely illuminated by torches flickering on the walls. As his eyes focused, he took in the form of a red-robed figure stood before him.

"Hello, John." A dark voice addressed him from beneath the hood. "It's so nice to finally meet you." "Gary…?" He responded, identifying the figure before him as the cult leader who had pursued him for so long. "Correct, priest." Gary nodded as he observed John. "You had been quite a thorn in my side this past month. Only to disappear entirely at this most crucial moment. We were so worried that you had already succumbed to your despair…" He stepped forwards beginning to circle his captive. "We thought all was lost when you took the girl from us. Our beloved vessel, mangled by a murderer." John sneered in retort, though no words came to his defence. How could they, when he knew he was responsible for the deaths of so many? "We thought our progress lost…" Gary continued. "The second death beyond our grasp. Until we realised the perfect vessel had walked right up to us." He snickered, spreading his arms wide. "It's you, John. All this has been for you. Only you."

John couldn't meet the cultist's gaze, simply staring into the dark. All his work for nothing. All he had brought was more death and suffering. "We should have realised sooner. It was there in my own writing…" Gary slowly stepped closer, eyes locked on his captive's. "Yes… 'Only those who have ascended to the highest point can descend into the lowest depths'... Fitting that one so favoured by God, should fall so low." A grin spread across his lips as he leaned in close, causing John to flinch as he felt the other's warmth. "A familiar story, is it not, priest?" The cultist chuckled as he cupped John's cheek. "You're my new Lucifer." "No!" He jerked away from Gary's touch, a defiant glare meeting the other's eyes for only a moment, before a feeling of dread crawled down his spine. 

John shivered in the cold air, feeling the chill on what he now realised was his bare skin. He jolted in surprise, struggling against his restraints and shifting his legs together as he moved in an attempt to cover himself. "Fret not, priest." Gary snorted, waving his hand. "I've no interest in such things. Simply part of the procedure." The cultist's words did little to put John at ease, feeling the other's eyes upon him as he was appraised. As a sacrifice, no doubt. Why else would they have need of him? Shuffling forwards, he tucked his legs as far back as they could. As he leaned forwards, he felt a shifting on his chest. His cross, a small pendant around his neck. The only item of adornment still upon him. Perhaps there was still enough grace in him that they were unable to touch it. Or perhaps it remained simply as a cruel taunt.

Gary cupped his chin as his gaze ventured over John's body, taking note of a pair of scars on his chest, which hinted at something he already suspected. "Curious…" He muttered, reaching a hand out to trail his fingers across the smooth, pinkened lines. "Not exactly what one might expect from a man of God, hm?" He raised an eyebrow, briefly catching John's gaze from beneath his hood. The priest quickly looked away. "God made me who I am. I only had to journey to discover that." John spoke, with as much belief as he could muster. "Oh?" Gary nodded as he stepped away, beginning to circle around the man. "You've practised that line a few times, haven't you?" He chuckled, leaning into John from behind, resting his head on the other's shoulder. "Do you still believe it?" He whispered, moving to his other side. "Did you ever?" John flinched away from Gary's breath on his ears, flinching as he felt the throbbing in his neck redouble. "One would think a merciful god would birth their men as men, no?" Gary mused, returning to stand before the priest. John took a deep breath, his voice wavering as he attempted to speak. "I trust in the Lord, and His plans." He recited, as though an empty memorization rather than real belief. "It is not upon me to question the will of-..." "Spare me the sermon, Preacher." Gary snapped, waving his hand dismissively. "You don't have to justify yourself to me." He circled his captive once more. "As it was your will since you were a child, was it not?" He cackled at John's confused expression. "Of course, you forget it was my own mother that raised you, don't you?" John simply stared back at him, bewildered, words only coming in starts and stutters.

"But… how? I-..." "Of course, you either wouldn't recognize her, or the trauma simply made you forget." Gary continued, watching the gentle shifting of John's cross as he moved. "Just another child at the convent. Your own mother claimed by the very demon you are about to host… And no father to speak of. Not even a record of his existence." He laughed as he entertained the thought. "Perhaps you were an immaculate conception… Like me." Gary grinned a toothy grin, far wider than any human face should allow, sending a shiver down John's spine. "She told me of how you dressed in the boy's clothing. How you rebuked your old name. How you chose John from the book because you thought it would make you 'closer to God'..." He shook his head, chuckling derisively. "A misguided effort, in the end."

"Still!" Gary clapped his hands together, causing John to flinch. "Not that it matters to me. You are what you are. Simply human. Whatever form you take." Once again, he raised a hand to trail it across the priest's chest, even as he attempted to pull away. "There are some among my own fold who are the same, though… Their marks aren't as clean as yours." He smirked. "Curious what the high-ups of the clergy are willing to do to cover up anything that might bring them shame." "I'm not ashamed!" John barked in retaliation, showing the most conviction in his words since the two of them met. "And quite rightly so." Gary smiled broadly in response, dragging his fingers down John's chest slowly. "You should accept who you are… What you are. Indulge it, enjoy it." His hand travelled lower down the priest's body, from his chest and over his stomach, a slight paunch from age and a mostly inactive lifestyle. "But, this leads me to my true curiosity. I simply must know…"

Gary's hand descended further, over the mound between John's legs, as the priest attempted to pull away, squeezing his legs together. "I'm not going to hurt you." The cultist spoke, his tone surprisingly earnest. John could only tense up as he felt fingers pry between, tracing around the folds of his lips, causing him to shudder. "Wh… What do you want?" The priest choked out. "Your humanity, John. The flaws and the drives that your god would stifle." Gary lightly pressed a finger against John's opening, gently prising inside. "I want your true self." John raised his hips, attempting to pull away, though there was nowhere else for him to go. "I can't do this…" He breathed. "You can, John…" Gary held his grip, firm enough to keep his captive from squirming, but not enough to hurt. "It's your destiny… and I think you've always known that." His fingertip circled around inside John, meeting a slight resistance as he moved. An eyebrow raised as a smirk crossed his lips. "Ah… Untouched." he grinned, his free hand reaching to pat John's cheek lightly. "Such a good Christian boy." he laughed softly. "Saving yourself for God, hm?... Was it worth it?"

John flinched as he felt Gary's finger curl slightly, barely inside, but he could feel every movement, gritting his teeth as his hips unconsciously followed after him. "It's not right…" John breathed, trying to find some clarity in his thoughts. "I honour Him in chastity, and He honours me in return." he recited, trying to focus on the vows of his faith. "You really have an answer for everything, don't you?" Gary sneered, circling his thumb gently to brush slowly against John's clit, causing the priest to immediately jolt against his grip, a sudden gasp catching in his throat. "Well if that's true…" the cultist continued. "Why did he abandon you?" John couldn't respond. Only his ragged breathing passed his lips as he hung his head, grimacing as he focused on the cultist's hand between his legs.

"He may not want you, priest… But we do." Gary purred, circling his thumb again as John squirmed in his grip. "We understand your nature, which your god had you deny for so long… We would never deny you your own body. Your urges, your drives, your desires… Own them, John." He smiled. "I won't judge you for them. After all… Gary loves you." The cultist leaned in closer, half-embracing the priest with his free arm, feeling him tremble against his body. "Tell me you don't want this." He whispered. "Give into yourself, and we will give you everything."

John closed his eyes, shaking his head as he took a deep breath. His resolve was failing and he knew it. He had always been diligent in his vows, even up until his first dealings with the cult, feeling that the grace of God was with him. But now he felt nothing. Perhaps the truth was that he was beyond saving. Unforgivable. Looking back up, he met eyes with the cultist once more, his expression oddly comforting. It almost terrified him. Gary pushed his finger a little deeper, curling upwards inside the priest, prompting a loud, deep moan which he quickly stifled. Legs already weakened, John buckled forwards against the cultist, gritting his teeth as he tried to hold steady. "I think that's all I needed to hear." Gary smirked, slowly setting the other back on his feet, withdrawing his hand and pulling away.

"He's ready…" Gary paced a few steps backwards, leaving John to regain his footing. Through blurred vision, the priest saw more pinpricks of light begin to spark up in the darkness, illuminating the forms of dozens more red-robed figures, watching him from the darkness. He began to panic, struggling slightly against his restraints. "Wait! What are they doing here…?" "Worry not, priest." Gary spoke once again in his disturbingly reassuring tone. "They are simply here to see the coming of their new lord." His grin grew a little more sinister. A strange, shifting sound caught John's attention as he felt something moving around his feet. Looking down, he saw what he could only describe as a mass of shifting hands and arms. He stuttered in fear and surprise as he kicked his feet around it, trying to escape the grasping claws which reached out to grab him. "Here he is!" Gary called out, raising his arms as he looked past John, above his head. The priest dared not look at what. "Your new host. A chosen of God, practically pure. The perfect vessel." In unison, the cultists lined up behind Gary fell to their knees in reverence, and for a brief moment, John felt a sense of power that he hadn't ever before.

Hands continued to wrap around him, cradling the weight of his body as they lifted him up. Beneath his arms, around his chest, caressing his stomach, stroking his hair and supporting his legs. All their attentions making him feel oddly comforted in how surprisingly tender they were. Gary leaned in close once more, reaching over to unfasten the restraints around John's wrists, now that he was secure in the grasp of The Unspeakable. "Succumb to your destiny, priest. Assume your role as the new antichrist. Our king of pain!" The cultist roared triumphantly, raising his arms as the gathering behind him chanted and cheered. John was awash with turmoil. Fear and excitement, reluctance and eagerness. The anticipation was overwhelming. "Relax, John…" Gary spoke softly as he observed. "It will not hurt you. It knows your true desires. Trust in The Unspeakable."

One of the hands around him moved, slipping around his body, down between his legs much as Gary's had before. It wasted little time in seeking what it wanted. John had already been prepared, wet and ready to receive the demon as its thick finger pushed inside. Taking deep breaths, he tried to focus on anything else, muttering quietly under his breath.

“I will say of the Lord: He is my refuge and my fortress. My God, in Him I will trust… " John gasped in shock as his body tensed, not expecting so much so quickly. He tried to relax and ease himself into the embrace of the arms around him, but the tight pressure around his entrance pulled his attention with each movement. John squeezed his eyes shut, avoiding looking at Gary, the crowd, and most certainly the thing that loomed above him. He took deep breaths to try and calm himself, each hand upon him doing it's part to soothe him, as the one inside moved back and forth in its unrelenting rhythm.

“I shall not be- ah… afraid of the terror in th-... the night, nor the evil that- nhn… walketh in darkness, because I have m-... made the Lord my… my refuge.” As Gary had done previously, the creature pressed its thumb against his clit, rubbing firmly. John's back arched at the rough, textured grip against him, coaxing out small moans as his body rocked with the movement. As he shifted, he felt the cool surface of his cross against his hot skin, a small reminder of what had carried him so far.

“I have… I have set my love upon Him, therefore will He… He… ahn…” Despite the eyes upon him, he was beginning to lose himself, body moving to accept more of the demon into him, until he felt the tension break. He gave a sharp yelp in pain, eyes snapping open as his gaze met that of Gary, a knowing smirk upon his face. A brief moment of dismay crossed the priest's mind as he was struck with realisation, before it was quickly buried again by the creature moving more fluidly inside him. "Oh God… God, please…" He moaned, part of him hoping that his pleas might be answered, even while the rest of him yearned for more. Shaking his head, he clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his moans, and the thousand blasphemies that were swimming in his head.

The arms supporting John's body tilted him back a little, laying him out more horizontally and spreading his legs wider. John's hips began to move of their own accord, pushing back against the creature's hand as he felt the finger move deeper inside, seeking the region to provoke the most response. All the while, the thumb circled around his clit faster, more firmly, causing the priest's body to writhe as he moved to grind back against it. For all the attentions he received, it wasn't enough. Perhaps some part of him knew it never would be. After a lifetime of denial, he had been given a taste of the forbidden, and immediately craved more. He arched his back, head rolling limply as he tossed from side to side in pleasure. Unable to stifle himself any longer, John began to call out, his breathless gasps now deep moans. Long, unrestrained groans of ecstasy that grew as he rocked harder against the demon's grip. His squirming contorted into more stiff angles as his body started to become more rigid, almost as if he instinctively knew to anticipate something. His breathing fast and heavy, he could feel the building of something deep in the pit of his stomach. Shivers ran through his body as the prying finger struck its target, driving him closer to the edge he had worked so hard to keep from approaching. It was too much for him to bear. An onslaught of pleasure he could never hope to resist in his current state. The priest's body tightened, his muscles tense as his head swam. He felt his stomach turning, and his heart beating in his chest, and soon enough, his resolve gave out completely with a shuddering gasp, and a breathless exaltation. "Ah! Oh, God! F-... forgive me!" He called out, his voice echoing throughout the dark, cavernous room. John panted quickly as he allowed himself to go limp, his body rocking in spasms of their own accord as he was hit with a wave of the most intense pleasure he could fathom, feeling as though he barely danced upon the edge of consciousness.

The hands gently began to lower him down, placing John's body upon the cool, store floor, prompting a small whimper as he flinched at the cold. He didn't move, simply remaining where he lay as he stared at his hands. He suddenly, sickeningly, felt aware of everything that was around him. The sweat upon his body, the odd raspy breathing of the creature above him, the hot stickiness between his legs. His stomach turned. One of the cultists slowly began to approach, unfurling a silken, red robe, which was then draped around the priest's form as he lay unmoving on the ground. "Wonderful, priest!" Gary's voice broke the silence, causing John to flinch. "The Unspeakable is pleased! It seems eager to take you as its new vessel." The cult leader paced closer, kneeling besides John's fallen form. "How noble for you to offer It your purity." He chuckled. John flinched again, feeling the weight of those words upon him. He felt dirty. Defiled. Though perhaps worse was that he knew he gave himself willingly. He broke his vows to God, and did so of his own volition. His breathing broke into quick sobs, though no tears came to his eyes. Slowly, he brought his hand up to close around his cross, gripping it tightly, and hoping for… something, anything. But there was nothing. No hope or faith or reassurance that he may once have been granted. Only a void where God's favour once was.

"What do you want from me?" John asked, still not moving. "Only what you will give." Gary cooed, reaching over to place a hand on the priest's shoulder. "And in return…?" "Anything you desire." Gary grinned, rising to his feet, spreading his arms wide. "Your every wish, their command. All that you ask." He watched as John slowly began to sit up. "Give yourself as a host, and the world will be laid at your feet." John played the cross around in his hand as he thought, considering what had led him to this. His wavering faith, an inability to act upon the encroaching darkness. A threat that he faced alone. When he first tried to cast out the demon, he had been dragged into it by a senior priest. And yet the failure was put solely upon him. His inexperience with his first exorcism blamed. He was cast out from the church, condemned by the Vatican,  his pleas ignored by anyone who could help. Locked in a cell as a madman, and left to face the oncoming end of the world, alone.

John grit his teeth, clenching his fist tightly around his cross, before giving a sharp tug, breaking the chain around his neck. Gary, observing this, raised an eyebrow curiously. "They abandoned me…" the priest muttered, staring into his hand, pendant glinting in the torchlight. "What chance did I really have, facing all this alone?" He blinked, feeling tears welling in his eyes. "They tried to pretend I didn't even exist." He frowned, and for the first time since all this began, had one shining moment of clarity. "It wasn't my fault." He stated defiantly. "I was never ready for any of this, it wasn't my fault." He barked, anger bleeding through into his voice, as he tossed the necklace aside. Gary's smile grew with an unsettling warmth, seeming genuinely proud of John's epiphany. "They asked so much of you…" He purred, standing over the priest where he sat, reaching down to gently cup his face in his hands. "It's time to rest John. Stop fighting. Take what you deserve after so much pain."

Taking a deep breath, John slowly got to his feet, clutching the robe around him. He looked over the crowd of cultists, all knelt before him, before turning back to Gary. "Fine…" he spoke quietly. "I'll do it. I'll be your vessel." Gary's grin grew unnaturally wide at John's agreement, laughing heartily as he turned to his followers. "Our new vessel, children! Hail, our king of pain!" The echoes of his voice were soon drowned out by the cheers of the cult, chanting their devotion to the new lord. John felt his pulse race, his stomach turn and his breathing quicken as he awaited what. would happen. Gary reached over to grip his shoulder. "You're already there… Just let it in…"

Once again, John felt hands brushing around his legs, The Unspeakable returning to grasp across his body. With a speed and vigour he'd not felt before, the creature entered inside him, deeper than before. The sensation was different. Effortless and intangible. It was not simply physically inside him, but spiritually. The demon phased into his body as it filled him, pushing him to his limits and moving beyond them, creating something new with his form. Against his better judgement, John chose to look above him to see the demon who would now share his form.

Gazing back at him, he saw only a single, eldritch eye. All creation reflected in its surface, and he could feel all of it transferring inside him. The process was overwhelming, and he soon blacked out.

_______________

John came to, already on his feet, stood out under the night sky with the forest around him. He still felt… himself. But things were different somehow. He could hear the rustle of every blade of grass, smell the blood of every creature nearby, taste life on the breeze. Every sense had been heightened. Hearing footsteps approach from behind, he turned to see Gary drawing near. "Back with us?" He smiled. "I… don't know." John looked down at himself, seeing that he was now fully clothed in red robes. "I… feel like myself." "Good. Then it worked." Gary nodded, striding ahead. "The Unspeakable isn't possessing you, John. It IS you. Body and soul." He clapped a hand on the other's shoulder joyfully. "You are one, now." John nodded, turning back to look around at the forest. "What are we doing out here?" He asked. "Where are we going?" "The church, John." Gary grinned. "We have a lot of unfinished business to attend to, no?" John, the new lord, turned back to him, neutral expression slowly shifting into something more sinister, a smirk creeping across his face. "Yes… yes I think there is."