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dwellordream · 3 years ago

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“...On June 26, ad 4, Augustus adopted Tiberius. Livia’s son, forty-four years old, now became officially the son of her second husband. Henceforth he is called Tiberius Julius Caesar and is clearly the man designated to succeed the emperor. As he had in the past, Augustus made provision for the possibility that Tiberius might not necessarily survive him. Agrippa Postumus had not given any evidence of being temperamentally suited for high office, but Augustus perhaps hoped that in the general way of things an unruly youth could mature into a responsible adult. Hence the emperor adopted Postumus on the same occasion.

Moreover, Tiberius was obliged, before his own adoption, to adopt his nephew Germanicus, who would thereby become Tiberius’ son and would legally have the same relationship to Tiberius as his natural son, Drusus. The marriage of Germanicus and Agrippina followed soon after, probably in the next year. There is no reason why the unconcealed manoeuvring on behalf of Germanicus should have upset Livia unnecessarily, despite the clear implications of Tacitus that it did. Germanicus, after all, was her grandson as much as was Drusus Caesar. The arrangement reinforced rather than weakened the likelihood of succession from her own line, as was to be demonstrated by events.

The marriage would prove extremely fruitful. In time Agrippina bore Germanicus nine children, six of whom survived infancy. The first three were sons, great-grandsons of Livia: Nero, the eldest (not to be confused with his nephew Nero, the future emperor); Drusus (to be distinguished from the two more famous men of the same name: Drusus, son of Livia, and Drusus Caesar, son of Tiberius); and Gaius (destined to become emperor, and known more familiarly as Caligula). She also bore three surviving daughters, Drusilla and Livilla, and, most important, the younger Agrippina, mother of Livia’s great-great-grandson, the emperor Nero. The adoption of Tiberius in ad 4 would have been an occasion of joy and satisfaction for Livia, and would have helped to efface any lingering grief that still afflicted her over Drusus’ death.

If we are to believe Velleius, not only Livia but the whole Roman world reacted jubilantly to the new turn of events. Needless to say, his account should be treated with due caution. There was, he claims, something for everyone. Parents felt heartened about the future of their children, husbands felt secure about their wives, even property owners anticipated profits from their investments! Everyone looked forward to an era of peace and good order. A colourful exaggeration, of course, but there probably was considerable relief among Romans that the succession issue seemed at long last to be settled.

…In the immediate aftermath of the adoptions the ancient authors inevitably tend to focus on Tiberius and the campaigns he conducted in Germany and Illyricum, and they virtually ignore Agrippa Postumus, whose name was to be invoked later by sources hostile to Livia. A few details about Postumus emerge. In ad 5 he received the toga of manhood. The occasion was low-key, without any of the special honours granted Gaius and Lucius on the same occasion. It also seems to have been delayed. Postumus would have reached fourteen in ad 3, and under normal circumstances might reasonably have been expected to take the toga in that year. Something seems to be wrong. Augustus had certainly endured his share of problems with the young people in his own family. The pressures facing the younger relatives of any monarch are self evident, given the sense of importance that precedes achievement, to say nothing of the opportunists attracted to the immature and malleable, and prepared to pander to their self-importance.

As Velleius astutely remarks, magnae fortunae comes adest adulatio (sycophancy is the comrade of high position). These pressures must have been particularly intense in the period of the Augustan settlement, when no established standards had yet evolved for the royal children and grandchildren. Gaius and Lucius, the focus of Augustus’ ambitions and hopes, caused him endless grief by their behaviour in public, clearly egged on by their supporters, and on at least one occasion Augustus felt constrained to clip their wings. Gaius’ brave but distinctly foolhardy behaviour during the siege of Artagira is surely symptomatic of the same conceit.

There is no reason to assume that Postumus would have been immune from the pressures that turned the heads of his siblings. Whatever traits of haughtiness Postumus might have displayed in his early youth, they were not serious enough to have entered the record, and the exact nature of his personal and possibly mental problems is far from clear. The ancient sources speak of his brutish and violent behaviour. Some modern scholars have suggested that he might have been mad, but the language used of him seems to denote little more than an unmanageable temperament and antisocial tendencies.

For whatever reasons, eventually Augustus decided to remove him from the scene. The details of this expulsion are obscure. Suetonius provides the clearest statement, recording that Augustus removed Postumus (abdicavit) because of his wild character and sent him to Surrentum (Sorrento). The historian notes that Postumus grew less and less manageable and so was then sent to Planasia, a low-lying desolate island about sixteen kilometres south of Elba. Tacitus has no doubt about where the ultimate responsibility for Augustus’ actions lay. Postumus had committed no crime.

But Livia had so ensnared her elderly husband (senem Augustum) that he was induced to banish him to Planasia. Tacitus’ technique here is patent. The use of the word senem is meant to suggest that Augustus was by now senile, even though the event occurred eight years before his death. Incapable of making his own rational decisions, he would thus be at the mercy of a scheming woman, just as later Agrippina the Younger reputedly ‘‘captivated her uncle’’ Claudius (pellicit patruum). No reason is given for Livia’s supposed manoeuvre—which as usual, according to Tacitus, was conducted behind the scenes—except the standard charge that her hatred of Postumus was motivated by a stepmother’s loathing (novercalibus odiis).

Yet nothing in the rest of Tacitus’ narrative sustains his assertion, and the historian himself admits that the general view of Romans towards the end of Augustus’ reign was that Postumus was totally unsuited for the succession, because of both his youth and his generally insolent behaviour. Moreover, Augustus had made the strength of Tiberius’ position so patently evident that Livia would hardly have considered Postumus a serious candidate. This seems to be confirmed in a remarkable passage of Tacitus which uncharacteristically reports public reservations about a potential role for Germanicus, supposedly Tiberius’ rival.

After reporting the popular view that Postumus could be ruled out, Tacitus says that people grumbled that with the accession of Tiberius they would have to put up with Livia’s impotentia, and would have to obey two adulescentes (Germanicus and Drusus) who would oppress, then tear the state apart. Tacitus concedes that even the prospect of the reasonable Germanicus and Drusus being involved in state matters caused consternation. This surely offers some gauge of how far below the horizon Postumus was to be found. The precise reason for Postumus’ removal to Sorrento, if it was not simply his personality, is not clear. The initial expulsion may have been provoked by nothing more serious than personal tension between him and his adoptive father.

Whatever the initial reason, it soon became apparent that if Augustus had hoped that sending his adopted son out of Rome would solve the problem, he was mistaken. Dio places Postumus’ formal exile to Planasia in ad 7. If, as Suetonius claims, he was sent first to Sorrento, what might have precipitated the change in the location and the more grave status of his banishment? We have some hints in the sources. Dio suggests that one of the reasons for Augustus’ giving Germanicus preference over Postumus was that the latter spent most of his time fishing, and acquired the sobriquet of Neptune.

Now this could point simply to irresponsibility and indolence, but the picture of Postumus as an ancient Izaak Walton serenely casting his line does not fit well with the very strong tradition of someone wild and reckless. His activities may well have had a political dimension. The choice of the nickname Neptune could allude to the naval victories of his father, Marcus Agrippa. The fishing story might well belong to the period after Postumus’ relegation to Sorrento. This could have proved a risky spot to locate Postumus, because it lay just across the bay from the important naval base at Misenum that his father had established in 31 bc. The innocent fishing expeditions might have covered much more sinister activities.

Augustus may well have concluded eventually that Postumus was too dangerous to be left in the benign surroundings of Sorrento. During Postumus’ second, more serious phase of exile, on the island of Planasia, he was placed under a military guard, a good indication that he was considered genuinely dangerous rather than just a source of irritation and embarrassment. This final stage of banishment was a formal one, for Augustus confirmed the punishment by a senatorial decree and spoke in the Senate on the occasion about his adopted son’s depraved character. Formal banishment enacted by a decree of the Senate would be intended to make a serious political statement and should have buried completely any thoughts that Postumus might have been considered a serious candidate in the succession.

We cannot rule out the possibility that Postumus became involved, perhaps as a pawn, in some serious political intrigue, if not to oust Augustus then at the very least to ensure that he would be followed not by a son of Livia but by someone from the line of Julia. If Postumus was being encouraged to think of a possible role in the succession, it might reasonably be asked who was doing the urging. Although there is no explicit statement on the question in the sources, many scholars have accepted the notion that there existed a ‘‘Julian party,’’ responsible for much of the ‘‘anti-Claudian’’ propaganda directed against Livia and Tiberius that is found in Tacitus in particular and possibly derived from the memoirs of Agrippina.

…Whatever the intrigues in Rome, Livia’s son was able to keep himself aloof and to play the role that suited him best, that of soldier. Tiberius conducted a brilliant series of campaigns in Pannonia for which a triumph was voted in ad 9. (This was postponed when Tiberius was despatched to Germany in the aftermath of the disastrous defeat of Quinctilius Varus, in which three legions were lost.) When the Pannonian triumph was voted, Augustus made his intentions crystal clear. Various suggestions were put forward for honorific titles, such as Pannonicus, Invictus, and Pius.

The emperor, however, vetoed them all, declaring that Tiberius would have to be satisfied with the title that he would receive when he himself died. That title, of course, was Augustus. It also appears that a law was later passed to make his imperium equal to that of Augustus throughout the empire, and in early 13 his tribunician power was renewed. His son Drusus Caesar received his first accelerated promotion, designated to proceed directly to the consulship in ad 15, skipping the praetorship that should have preceded this higher office.

The virtual impregnability of Tiberius’ position should be borne in mind in any attempt to understand the final months of Augustus’ life. In the closing chapter of her husband’s principate, Livia reemerges in the record to play a central and, according to one tradition, decidedly sinister role. This is perhaps the most convoluted period of her career, where rumour and reality seem to diverge most widely. To place the events in a comprehensible context, it is necessary to note one later detail out of its chronological sequence. As we shall see, after Augustus’ death there was a rumour reported in some of the sources that Livia had murdered her husband.

In the best forensic tradition, a motive would have to be unearthed to make the charge plausible, especially since sceptics could hardly have failed to notice that Augustus had never enjoyed robust health and was already in his seventy-sixth year. Death from natural causes could hardly be considered remarkable under such circumstances. The requisite motive would indeed be produced, and the kernel of the intricate thesis that evolved is found in a brief summary of Augustus’ career by Pliny the Elder. Among the travails that afflicted the emperor, Pliny lists the abdicatio of Postumus after his adoption, Augustus’ regret after the relegation, the suspicion that a certain Fabius betrayed his secrets, and the intrigues of Livia and Tiberius.

Pliny’s summary observations are clearly based on a more detailed source, which suggested that Augustus felt some remorse about Postumus. This simple and not improbable notion is developed by other sources into a far more complex scenario that creates an apparently plausible motive, because it could be claimed that Livia would have wanted to remove her husband before he could act on his change of heart. This reconstruction of the events is clearly reminiscent of the closing days of the reign of Claudius, when the emperor supposedly sought a rapprochement with his son Britannicus, to the disadvantage of his stepson Nero, and thereby inspired his wife Agrippina to despatch him with the poisoned mushroom.

But it is important to bear in mind that as Pliny reports the events he limits himself to the claim that Augustus regretted Postumus’ exile, without further elaboration, and although Livia and her son supposedly engaged in intrigues of some unspecified nature, Pliny assigns no criminal action to either of them. Pliny’s ‘‘skeleton account’’ is to some degree validated by Plutarch. In his essay on ‘‘Talkativeness,’’ Plutarch, in a very garbled passage, relates that a friend of Augustus named ‘‘Fulvius’’ heard the emperor lamenting the woes that had befallen his house—the deaths of Gaius and Lucius and the exile of ‘‘Postumius’’ on some false charge—which had obliged him to pass on the succession to Tiberius. He now regretted what had happened and intended (bouleuomenos) to recall his surviving grandson from exile.

According to Plutarch’s account, Fulvius passed this information on to his wife, and she in turn passed it on to Livia, who took Augustus to task for his careless talk. The emperor made his displeasure known to Fulvius, and he and his wife in consequence committed suicide. This last detail was perhaps inspired by the famous story of Arria, who achieved immortal fame in ad 42 when she died with her husband Caecina Paetus, who had been implicated in a conspiracy against Claudius. Plutarch’s confused version of events does not inspire confidence, and in any case, although he gives Livia a more specific role than does Pliny, he follows Pliny in not attributing to Augustus any action, only supposed intentions.

Dio’s account is a much contracted one, but derived from a source that has added a very important wrinkle to the story and has Augustus taking action on his change of heart. Dio says that Livia was suspected of Augustus’ death. She was afraid, people say (hos phasi), because Augustus had secretly sailed to Planasia to see Postumus and seemed to be on the brink of seeking a reconciliation. This bald and surely implausible story, involving a round trip of some five hundred kilometres, is given its fullest treatment in Tacitus, clearly drawing on the same source as Dio.

He says that people thought that Livia had brought about Augustus’ final illness, because a rumour entered into circulation that the emperor had gone to Planasia to visit Postumus, accompanied by a small group of intimates, including Paullus Fabius Maximus. Fabius, clearly Plutarch’s ‘‘Fulvius,’’ was a literary figure of some renown, a close friend of Ovid and Horace. He was also an intimate of Augustus, consul in 11 bc, governor of Asia, and legatus in Spain (3–2 bc). He would thus be a plausible participant in this mysterious expedition. Tacitus reports that the tears and signs of affection were enough to raise the hopes of Postumus that there was a prospect of his being recalled. (It is striking that Tacitus is ambiguous about the meeting’s purpose and is too good a historian to bring himself to claim that Augustus had gone there to commit himself to Postumus’ rehabilitation.)

Fabius Maximus supposedly told the story to his wife, Marcia, and she in turn passed it to Livia. The text of the manuscript is corrupt at this point, but Tacitus seems to say that this indiscretion came to the knowledge of Augustus (reading the text as gnarum id Caesari). The subsequent death of Fabius, Tacitus says, may or may not have been suicide (the implication is that Augustus ordered it, as Plutarch suggests). Marcia was heard at the funeral reproaching herself as the cause of her husband’s downfall (this presumably is how the story got out).

After this detailed account Tacitus undercuts his own case when he goes on to say that Augustus died shortly afterwards, utcumque se ea res habuit. The force of this phrase is essentially ‘‘whatever the truth of the matter.’’ It hardly inspires conviction. The story of the adventurous journey to Planasia and the tearful reconciliation has generally been greeted with scepticism by modern scholars. Jameson is an exception. She uses the Arval record to argue that Augustus did take the trip, noting that on May 14 there was a meeting of the brethren for the cooption of Drusus Caesar, the son of Tiberius, into their order. Fabius Maximus and Augustus were absent from the ceremony, and submitted their votes, in favour of the co-option, by absentee ballot. But is there anything remarkable in their absence?

Clearly, the election of Tiberius’ son was not in reality a particularly important occasion, for Tiberius himself failed to attend. Moreover, Syme notes that no fewer than five other arvals were absent from this meeting, and that there could be a host of explanations for Augustus’ absence. Also, if the co-option was seen as an important family event, then it would surely have been the very worst time for Augustus to try to slip away unnoticed. The emperor was by this time in declining health, so weak that he even held audiences in the palace lying on a couch. In ad 12 he was so frail that he stopped his morning receptions for senators and asked their indulgence for his not joining them at public banquets.

Yet we are supposed to assume that he made the arduous journey to Planasia, and that he did so without Livia realizing what he was up to. It is also important to observe that both Tacitus and Dio drew on a source claiming that Augustus was on the verge of making amends with Postumus. An actual reconciliation seems to be ruled out by the later sequence of events. Certainly he did nothing whatsoever on his return to strengthen Postumus’ position or to weaken that of Tiberius. Finally, one might ask whether Augustus could ever have seriously considered recalling Postumus. He had put him under armed guard. There were plots to rescue him. His supporters published damaging letters about the emperor. It all seems implausible. Syme suggests that the details of the journey might have been added soon after Augustus’ death, a ‘‘specimen of that corroborative detail which is all too apparent (and useful) in historical fictions.’’ Syme bases his argument in part on aesthetic considerations. The episode as it appears in Tacitus is introduced in an inartistic fashion and appears to have been grafted on as an afterthought, introducing two names, those of Fabius Maximus and his wife, Marcia, that will not be mentioned again in the Annals. Moreover, neither Pliny nor Plutarch mentions Planasia.

…The plot described by Suetonius might then have been a last desperate effort to rescue her. In any case it seems to have come to nothing. In addition to the supposed political intrigues in the period immediately before Augustus’ death, there was no shortage of signs that the gods, too, were feeling distinctly uneasy, ranging from the usual comets and fires in the sky to more opaque portents, like a madman sitting on the chair dedicated to Julius Caesar and placing a crown on his own head, or an owl hooting on the roof of the Senate house. But Augustus seems to have had no premonition that he had little time left when he set out from Rome in August 14.

At that time Tiberius was obliged to leave the city for further service abroad, and he departed for Illyricum with a mandate to reorganise the province. Livia and Augustus joined him for the first part of the journey. This very public gesture is an affirmation of the emperor’s faith in Tiberius—a very odd signal to send if only a few months earlier he had become reconciled to Postumus and had changed his mind about who would succeed him. The party went as far as Astura, and from there followed the unusual course of taking a ship by night to catch the favourable breeze. On the sea journey Augustus contracted an illness, which began with diarrhoea.

They skirted the coast of Campania, spent four days in Augustus’ villa at Capri to allow him to relax and recuperate, then sailed into the Gulf of Puteoli, where they were given an extravagant welcome from the passengers and crew of a ship that had just sailed in from Alexandria. They passed over to Naples, although Augustus was still weak and his diarrhoea was recurring. He managed to muster up the strength to watch a gymnastic performance. Then they continued their journey. At Beneventum the company broke up. Tiberius headed east. As Augustus began the return journey with Livia from Beneventum, his illness took a turn for the worse. Perhaps he had a sense that his end was near, as he made for an old family estate, in nearby Nola, where his father, Octavius, had died.

Augustus was not to leave Nola alive. His condition quickly grew worse, and on August 19, 14, at the ninth hour, in Suetonius’ precise report, he died. According to Tacitus, as Augustus grew more sick, some people started to suspect (suspectabant) Livia of dirty deeds (scelus). Dio is more specific, but is still cautious about the charge. He notes that Augustus used to gather figs from the tree with his own hands. She, hos phasi (as they say), cunningly smeared some of them with poison, ate the uncontaminated ones herself and offered the special ones to her husband. As can be seen in his handling of other events, Dio does seem to relish rumours of poisoning.

He relates, for instance, that Vespasian died of fever in ad 79, but adds that some said that he was poisoned at a banquet. It was similarly said that Domitian murdered Titus in ad 81, although the written accounts agree that he died of natural causes. In the case of Augustus it may be possible to discern the origins of the rumour. Suetonius confirms that the emperor was fond of green figs from the second harvest (along with hand-made moist cheese, small fish, and coarse bread). Given Livia’s interest in the cultivation of figs (she even had one named after her), she may well have had an orchard at Nola to which she would have given special attention during her stay.

Dio in fact seems to have had little personal faith in the fig rumour, for he goes on to speak of Augustus’ death as ‘‘from this or from some other cause.’’ By its nature the fig story is unprovable yet impossible to refute. It falls in the grand tradition of such deaths, the best-known being the supposed despatch of Claudius by a poisoned mushroom. If Livia murdered Augustus, then her timing was oddly awry, for she had to go to considerable trouble to recall Tiberius, who was by then en route to Illyricum. Why not do the deed when he was still on the scene?

It is perhaps worth bearing in mind that Livia had an interest in curative recipes. It is possible that she would have inflicted one or more of her own concoctions on her husband. In the unlikely event that he was poisoned, alternative medicine might be a more plausible culprit than the murderer’s toxin. From Beneventum, Tiberius headed for the east coast of Italy, where he took a boat to Illyricum. He had barely crossed over to the Dalmatian coast when an urgent letter from his mother caught up with him, recalling him to Nola. There are different versions of what happened next. Tacitus describes Augustus in his final hours holding a heavy conversation with his entourage about the qualifications of potential successors. Dio and Suetonius allow him a lighter agenda.

They recount that he first asked for a mirror, combed his hair and straightened his sagging jaws. Then he invited the friends in. He gave them his final instructions, ending with his famous line of finding Rome a city of clay and leaving it a city of marble. In conclusion, he asked how they would rate his performance in the grand comedy of life. He seems to have taken a high score for granted, because just like a comic actor, he asked them to give him applause for a role well played. (The curious coincidence of the comic actors brought in during Claudius’ last hours should be noted.)

He then dismissed his friends and spoke to some visitors from Rome, asking about the health of Tiberius’ granddaughter Julia, who was ill. The most serious discrepancy arises over the part that Tiberius might have played during the emperor’s final hours. Dio preserves one tradition, which he says he found in most authorities, including the better ones, that the emperor died while his adopted son was still in Dalmatia, and that Livia for political reasons was determined to keep the death secret until he got back. Tacitus reflects a similar tradition, reporting uncertainty about whether Tiberius found Augustus dead or alive when he reached Nola. The house and the adjoining streets had been sealed off by Livia with guards, and optimistic bulletins were issued, until she was ready to release the news at a time dictated by her own needs.

The story is reminiscent of Agrippina’s arrangements after the death of Claudius. She was similarly accused of keeping the death secret and posting guards as Claudius lay dying. The suspicions about Livia do not appear in the other extant accounts. Velleius reports that Tiberius rushed back and arrived earlier than expected, which perked up Augustus for a time. But before too long he began to fail, and died in Tiberius’ arms, asking him to carry on with their joint work.

Suetonius is even more emphatic about Tiberius’ role. He says that Augustus detained Tiberius for a whole day in private conversation, which was the last serious business that he transacted. His final moments were spent with Livia. His mind wandered as he died—he thought that forty men were carrying him away—but at the last instant he kissed his wife, with an affectionate farewell, Livia nostri coniugii memor vive, ac vale (Livia, be mindful of our marriage, and good-bye), then slipped into the quiet death that he had always hoped for.

That Livia might have kept the news of Augustus’ death secret for a time is certainly plausible—there are all sorts of sound reasons why the announcement of a politically sensitive death might be postponed, although the similar delay after Claudius’ death is disturbingly coincidental. She also may well have put pickets around the house, but no sinister connotation need be placed on the action. The final hours of Augustus would doubtless have attracted the concerned and the curious, who in such situations follow a herd instinct to keep crowded vigils. After Agrippina the Younger had been shipwrecked near Baiae in ad 59, crowds of well-wishers streamed up to her house, carrying torches.

The same would surely have happened in Nola, and some sort of control might have become necessary to give the dying emperor some peace. The house certainly became a place of pilgrimage afterwards, and was converted into some sort of shrine. The romantic account of Augustus expiring in Tiberius’ arms may be highly coloured, and Suetonius’ claim that Augustus and Tiberius spent a whole day together sounds exaggerated, given that Augustus’ health was fading so fast.

But it is difficult to see how that whole sequence of events could simply have been invented if it did not have at least a basis of truth. In any case, rumours surrounding the events at Augustus’ deathbed were totally eclipsed by dramatic developments across the water. As an immediate consequence of the emperor’s death, Postumus also lost his life: primum facinus novi principatus fuit Postumi Agrippae caedes (the first misdeed of the new principate was the slaying of Agrippa Postumus), as Tacitus words it.

The events of this first and possibly murkiest episode of Tiberius’ reign have been much debated, and it is probably now impossible to disentangle fact from rumour and innuendo, since there is considerable ambiguity in the ancient accounts of the incident. The general outline of the events is not particularly controversial. The officer commanding the guard at Planasia executed Postumus after he had received written instructions (codicilli) to carry out the deed. Postumus had no weapons other than his powerful physique, and he put up a valiant but ultimately futile struggle. A desperate attempt by a loyal slave, Clemens, to save him was frustrated when the would-be rescuer took a slow freight ship to Planasia and arrived too late.

After the execution, the officer then reported to Tiberius, presumably still at Nola, that the action had been carried out. He did so, as Tacitus describes it, ut mos militiae (in the military manner), presumably in the sense of a soldier reporting to his commander that his orders have been discharged. Tiberius denied vehemently that he had given any such orders. According to Tacitus, he claimed that Augustus had sent the order, to be put into force immediately after his death, and insisted that the officer would have to give an account to the Senate. Tacitus at this point adds a new wrinkle to the story, and gives a role to a figure not mentioned in any of the other sources in the context of this incident.

The codicilli, he claims, had been sent to the tribune by Augustus’ confidant Sallustius Crispus. This man was the great-nephew and adopted son of the historian Sallust. Although his family connections had opened up the opportunities for a brilliant senatorial career, Sallustius chose to fashion himself after Maecenas and seek real influence rather than the empty prominence of the Senate. He rose to the top through his energy and determination, which he managed to conceal from his contemporaries by pretending a casual or even apathetic attitude to life.

He acquired considerable wealth, owning property in Rome, and among other landed estates he could list a copper mine in the Alps producing high-grade ore. More importantly, at least until his later years, he had the ear of both Augustus and Tiberius, as a man who bore the imperatorum secreta (secrets of the emperors). When Sallustius learned that Tiberius wanted the whole matter brought before the Senate, he grew alarmed, afraid that he personally could end up being charged. He interceded with Livia, alerting her to the danger of making public the arcana domus (the inner secrets of the house), with all that would entail—details of the advice of friends, or of the special services carried out by the soldiers—and urged her to curb her son. Beyond this general framework the details are highly obscure, and, it seems, totally speculative.

Tacitus says that Tiberius avoided raising the issue of Postumus’ death in the Senate, and Suetonius observes that he simply let the matter fade away. There would thus have been no official source of information. Yet fairly detailed narratives have been passed down, which could have come only from eyewitness accounts. In particular one has to wonder how the supposed secret dealings between Livia and Sallustius could ever have become known. This uncertainty over the source and reliability of the information clearly makes it impossible to determine who was ultimately responsible for Postumus’ death.

Suetonius summarises the problem nicely. He states that it was not known whether Augustus had left the written instructions, on the verge of his own death, to ensure a smooth succession, or whether Livia had dictated them (dictasset) in the name of Augustus, and, if the latter, whether Tiberius had known about them. Dio categorically insists that Tiberius was directly responsible but says that he encouraged the speculation, so that some blamed Augustus, some Livia, and some even said that the centurion had acted on his own initiative.

Tacitus found Tiberius’ claim that Augustus had left instructions for the execution hard to believe, and describes this defence as a posture (simulabat), suggesting that the more likely scenario was that Tiberius and Livia hastily brought about the death, Tiberius driven by fear and she by novercalibus odiis (stepmotherly hatred). Velleius may have been aware of these speculations, for he is very cagey about Postumus’ death. He insists that ‘‘he suffered an ultimate fate’’ (habuit exitum) in a way that was appropriate to his ‘‘madness’’ ( furor). Velleius may well have been deliberately ambiguous to avoid becoming enmeshed in a contentious and sensitive issue that might reflect badly on Tiberius.

Scholars have generally been inclined to exonerate Livia, and only Gardthausen has held that Livia was totally responsible, without even Tiberius’ complicity. Syme accuses Tacitus of supporting an imputation against Livia ‘‘which he surely knew to be false.’’ The implication of Livia has been challenged by Charlesworth in particular. He sees it as emanating from the same tradition that had her poisoning Augustus. Certainly Pliny’s brief summary imputes no criminal action against her. She seems on principle to have refrained from taking independent executive action. (The picket she set up around Augustus’ house would be the only known counterexample.)

At most, it is possible that she knew of such an order, but it seems highly unlikely that she initiated it. Even if a meeting did actually take place between Sallustius and Livia, as Tacitus alleges, this need not mean that anything sinister had necessarily been underfoot. Sallustius may have wished simply to appeal to the wisdom and experience of Livia to counter the political naïveté of a son who had spent his career on military campaigns and had not yet become adept in the complexities of political intrigue. The suppression of information about the activities of the soldiers could just as easily have been meant to refer to Augustus’ instructions as to Livia’s, in a system where secrecy for the sake of secrecy was considered a vital element in the fabric of efficient government.

If Livia had somehow been involved with Sallustius in carrying out Augustus’ instructions, there would have had to be secret and dangerous communication between Rome and Nola, unless Sallustius was also with Augustus at the end (and Tacitus would surely have mentioned his presence). Tiberius seems largely exonerated by his own conduct. If he had been guilty, he would hardly have wanted an investigation by the Senate, and could simply have claimed that the execution was carried out on Augustus’ orders or even have reported officially that Postumus had died from natural causes. We can surely eliminate Dio’s barely tenable suggestion that the guard might have executed Postumus on its own initiative, and the hardly more convincing notion that Sallustius Crispus similarly might have acted on his own initiative.

On balance, the most plausible suspect is Augustus, although plausibility is far different from conviction. Augustus might well have issued standing orders to the tribune to execute Postumus the moment news of his own death arrived. Sallustius could well have sent the announcement of the emperor’s death in Tiberius’ name (with or without his knowledge), which could account for the centurion’s coming to Rome to make a report to Tiberius.

When he needed to, Augustus could behave quite ruthlessly against those who threatened him. He put to death Caesarion, the supposed son of Julius Caesar and Cleopatra, for purely political motives. He also could be harsh towards his own family. He swore that he would never recall the elder Julia from exile, refused to recognise the child of the younger Julia, and would not allow either Julia burial in his mausoleum. It was he who had set the armed guard over Postumus. Moreover, Augustus did make meticulous preparations for his own death.

He left behind three or four libelli, with instructions for his funeral, the text of the Res Gestae, a summary of the Roman troops, fleets, provinces, client-kingdoms, direct and indirect taxes—including those in arrears— the funds in the public and in the imperial treasuries, and the imperial accounts. There was also a book of instructions for Tiberius, the Senate, and the people. Augustus went into considerable detail, with such particulars as the number of slaves it would be wise to free and the number of new citizens who should be enrolled.

He was clearly a man determined not to leave any issues hanging in the balance, and the future of Postumus would have been an issue of prime importance. Postumus’ death was the final blow for Julia the Elder. From this point on, she simply gave up and went into a slow decline, her despair aggravated by her destitution. She received no help from Tiberius, although he had earlier tried to win leniency for her from her father.

According to Suetonius, Tiberius, once emperor, deprived her of her allowance, using the heartless argument that Augustus had not provided for it in his will. As we have seen, Livia might well have helped the exiled Julia at one point by giving her one of her slaves, and she certainly helped Julia’s daughter when she was sent away from Rome. But she does not seem to have tried to intercede on this occasion. Julia died in late ad 14 from weakness and malnutrition. The new reign had got off to a bloody start.”

- Anthony A. Barrett, “The Public Figure.” in Livia: First Lady of Imperial Rome

#livia drusilla #postumus #octavian #tiberius #roman #ancient #history #anthony a. barrett #livia first lady of imperial rome

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haec-est-fides · 4 years ago

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Since I love the Imperial Households and ocs who fit into that framework, I thought I could make a helpful post on Roman names.

(Any ideas I had about being helpful were kinda dashed when I went looking into Roman names to make sure I knew what I was talking about. As it turns out, Roman names are a bit complicated.)

The elevator pitch breakdown is this:

Names in ancient Rome generally followed the tria nomina format of praenomen + nomen + cognomen. A praenomen is a “first” or personal name. A nomen is a “last” or extended family surname (identifying one’s extended family or gens, inherited from one’s father). A cognomen is another “last” or family surname (identifying specific branches of families or stirpes, also inherited from one’s father).

Praenomina often take after existing family members or ancestors (parent, grandparent, etc.) and are rarely used alone except by family and close friends. (In fact, it was rare for Roman women to have praenomina at all in many time periods.) On another note, eldest children usually end up with their parent’s name, exact. It’s also common for siblings to have the same name. This is why we see a lot of “the elder” / “the younger” and even numerics in Roman names.

However, all of that is,,,a gross oversimplification, especially once you hit the Imperial period and where emperors are concerned. Praenomina and cognomina got mixed around a lot there. Another interesting note is that when emperors emancipated groups of people or otherwise granted them Roman citizenship, those new citizens received the emperor’s praenomen and nomen.

Now, a note on Trials of Apollo. Riordan uses the emperor’s common names, as in the ones they’re historically best known by. This is why Caligula gets called Caligula even though that’s a nickname. Commodus is best known by his cognomen, whereas Nero is best known by his praenomen. The emperors don’t seem to mind all that much, and I’d assume they’re used to all kinds of naming conventions by now. The point here is that if you do choose Roman names for your ocs, they can go by any part of their names (not just their praenomina, if they have them) or even by something else entirely.

For the record, here are the triumvirs’ full names, from Wikipedia:

Nero

Born Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus

Later Nero Claudius Caesar Drusus Germanicus

Regnal name being Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus

His father’s name was Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus. Nero was later adopted by Emperor Claudius, whose full name was Tiberius Claudius Nero Germanicus and whose regnal name was Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus.

Nero did have a daughter, who died in infancy, named Claudia Augusta. (Her name being Claudia after her father’s nomen, with Augusta being an Imperial honorific title.)

Commodus

Listed with two full names: Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus and Marcus Aurelius Commodus Antoninus

Likewise, two regnal names: Imperator Caesar Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus Augustus and Imperator Caesar Marcus Aurelius Commodus Antoninus Augustus

His father’s name was Marcus Aelius Aurelius Verus Caesar, whose regnal name was Imperator Caesar Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus.

Caligula

Born Gaius Julius Caesar (after the Julius Caesar)

Regnal name being Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus

His father’s name was Germanicus Julius Caesar.

Caligula had a daughter as well, who also died in infancy, named Julia Drusilla. (Her name being Julia after her father’s nomen, and Drusilla after her aunt.)

Because it’s an interesting note on Imperial women and their lack of praenomina, his three sisters were named Julia Drusilla, Julia Agrippina, and Julia Livilla. As they all take the nomen Julia from their gens, here we see the use of additional cognomen as personal names (often after female relatives).

My point in sharing these is mostly to show that Roman names do not often fall far from the tree. (Nero’s adoption and loss of all names similar to his father’s is a good illustration of an exception.) It can also be seen that the order of names (or the positioning of a name within the tria nomina structure) sometimes shifts or swaps.

Of course, Roman naming conventions changed over time, between social classes, and among individuals. Not all three parts of the tria nomina are required. On the flipside, someone could easily have more than three names, including honorific cognomina called agnomina (usually earned by some deed). Later in history, names used in all parts of the tria nomina were adapted into a single name usage (where, for example, what was once a cognomen became someone’s only identifying name) before arriving in the modern binominal / new trinominal structure (which is how we get modern kids with the first / personal name Octavian, for example).

And, not to be forgotten, we can always simply follow the shining modern example of Margaret “Meg” McCaffrey.

This post is a shallow, fandom-oriented introduction to a fascinating topic. I won’t pretend this covers everything, nor am I trying to tell y’all what to do. I just hope this was mildly interesting and maybe even a little helpful. <3

Here are some links to basic sources, which are worth checking out if you’re interested:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roman_naming_conventions

http://www.vroma.org/~bmcmanus/roman_names.html

https://www.unrv.com/culture/roman-naming-practices.php

https://www.thoughtco.com/parts-of-the-roman-name-119925

#trials of apollo #toa #triumvirate holdings #toa imperials #ocs #filodox!#feel free to add any thoughts / questions #looking over this it is interesting that Nero completely lost his childhood name upon being adopted by Claudius #which makes it that much more likely that it isn't chance that all of his kids have Roman names #he probably did give them Roman names when they were adopted into the Imperial Household #which makes Meg keeping her name all the more a mark of special treatment

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f4liveblogarchives · 4 years ago

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Fantastic Four Vol 1 #241

Sun Dec 20 2020 [12:49 PM] Wack'd: Front-cover tagline is one font change away from being a Jeopardy! clue

[12:50 PM] maxwellelvis: Who is "Kang the Conqueror"? [12:51 PM] Wack'd: We open on Nick Fury showing the Four a digital map of Africa with a huge glowing spot indicating a massive power surge [12:51 PM] Umbramatic: welp [12:51 PM] Wack'd: Ben thinks "maybe the ay-rabs got some new power source" which, y'know, fun [12:51 PM] Umbramatic: oh geez [12:52 PM] Wack'd: Anyway the cover's got Black Panther on it, so naturally this surge is on the Wakandan border [12:53 PM] Wack'd: T'Challa won't let SHEILD in, and he's resigned as an Avenger, but Fury figures since the Four are old friends T'Challa might let them do some snooping [12:54 PM] Wack'd: Ben naturally is like "wait, if you're respecting Wakanda's sovereignty how did you guys flag this" [12:55 PM] Wack'd: Turns out SHEILD was following some other weird phenom and stumbled into this by accident. Said phenom turns out to be Attilan flying to the moon [12:55 PM] Umbramatic: oops [12:55 PM] maxwellelvis: Good thing Reed's collar stretches. [12:56 PM] Wack'd: Reed says he took special measures to make sure every airspace that got violated got a message not to worry about it which 1. seems like a good way to make folks worry and 2. I guess he forgot to send SHIELD that memo [12:58 PM] Wack'd: Hmmm. Not sure I like this

[12:58 PM] Wack'd: Also Raiders had like just come out which is weird to think about [12:58 PM] Umbramatic: ben is cosplaying [12:59 PM] Wack'd: He's cosplaying a Mightey Whitey character for an Africa trip which. There are worse options I guess [12:59 PM] Umbramatic: oh [01:00 PM] Umbramatic: that did not sink in at first [01:00 PM] Wack'd: We're still doing huts and loincloths, huh? I am increasingly wondering when he Afrofuturism kicks in and we get a Wakanda that's less...this

[01:01 PM] Umbramatic: ...same [01:01 PM] maxwellelvis: Not until black people start writing for Black Panther. [01:01 PM] Wack'd: (Probably once Black people get a crack at writing it tbh--yeah [01:01 PM] Wack'd: Also: did Bryne change Ben back to a lump for the sole purpose of justifying let's-you-and-him-fight bits [01:02 PM] Wack'd: Because if so that's...actually pretty clever [01:04 PM] Wack'd: Anyway the Four + Frankie go undercover as a safari complete with pith helmets and fatigues. Which always feels more like cosplay than realism when fictional characters do it no matter what the era [01:04 PM] Wack'd: Like when characters from the American south wear white suits. I always assume it's something that got come by thirdhand even though who knows maybe it's a thing [01:05 PM] Wack'd: Well something’s up

[01:07 PM] Wack'd: Hm. The implication that Wakanda has gotten less superstitious because of Europeans is certainly gross!

[01:08 PM] Wack'd: The Four get a closer look and find some Russians had also been investigating. Operative word being "had" because they're all skeletons now [01:08 PM] Bocaj: No telling where the meat ran off to [01:09 PM] Wack'd: No telling indeed [01:10 PM] Wack'd: No sooner do they start investigating than the team are ambushed by a squad of folks in gold-and-red Roman centurion cosplay. Not wanting to blow their cover, the team lets themselves get taken hostage, but Sue turns invisible before she's noticed so the team has an advantage if things need to pop off [01:10 PM] Umbramatic: spooky scary [01:11 PM] Umbramatic: what's with all the fucking cosplay this issue [01:11 PM] Wack'd: The team are led through a mountain stocked with Kirby-esque tech and led out the other side to:

[01:12 PM] Umbramatic: well [01:12 PM] Umbramatic: when in rome [01:13 PM] Wack'd: You know when I asked when the writers will realize Wakandans should probably have some degree of advanced architecture and whathaveyou this is not what I had in mind [01:14 PM] Wack'd: Frankie knows how to deal with sexual harassers and also racists

[01:14 PM] Umbramatic: good [01:14 PM] Wack'd: ...god I hope the guy under that helmet is white because if this isn't deliberate I'm gonna go apeshit [01:15 PM] Wack'd: ......unless I guess a white guy saying that doesn't necessarily mean the white guy writing it is deliberately writing a racist, considering *gestures at Wakanda's whole deal* [01:15 PM] Bocaj: I hope this isn’t nova roma [01:15 PM] Bocaj: That’s supposed to be in South America and also they tend to wear black face [01:15 PM] Bocaj: Not Claremont’s finest hour [01:16 PM] Wack'd: Does the name Gaius Tiberius Augustus Aggrippa mean anything to anyone. Also does it mean anything period, like, is that actual Latin [01:16 PM] maxwellelvis: It's just nouns [01:17 PM] Umbramatic: it sounds like a lot of emperor names mashed together and also that [01:17 PM] Bocaj: It sounds like all Roman names because there were only like twenty names and every Roman used every so far one [01:17 PM] Bocaj: Caligula’s real name was Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus [01:18 PM] Wack'd: Having lost the element of surprise Reed orders an ambush but GTAA manages to neutralize their powers. Including Sue's, which, how'd he even know she was there, c'mon [01:18 PM] Bocaj: Boo [01:18 PM] Umbramatic: boo [01:18 PM] Wack'd: It is time now for the traditional sequence in which the entire team is locked up and has to escape [01:19 PM] Bocaj: It sure happens to them a lot [01:19 PM] Bocaj: You’d think Mr Miracle was a fantastic four member at this rate [01:19 PM] Phantom: Hmm it's interesting how much I associate Latin with species names [01:20 PM] Wack'd: It turns out the deception vis-a-vis Black Panther was just the ol' Queen Amidala gambit. T'challa gets in a Batman boast about how you can't neutralize his powers because his powers are just having worked out a lot [01:20 PM] Umbramatic: MUSCLES [01:21 PM] maxwellelvis: This was before the Heart-Shaped Herb was a thing? [01:21 PM] Wack'd: T'Challa has been put in a slave gally because of course. Reed and Frankie are shackled in dungeons to the ceiling. Sue....has been stripped naked and left in a lavish bedroom [01:21 PM] Umbramatic: ...oh [01:21 PM] Phantom: of course [01:22 PM] Wack'd: GTAA has had "games called in [her] honor" which I assume means Gladiator. Maybe he'll surprise us by being big into baseball, who knows [01:22 PM] maxwellelvis: What are the odds that Byrne actually knows what gladiator games were like? [01:22 PM] maxwellelvis: I'm guessing not very good. [01:22 PM] Umbramatic: GTAA is really into esports [01:22 PM] Wack'd: Middling to low [01:23 PM] Wack'd: T'Challa tries to break Frankie out of her cell by just being like "hey, I'm your king, knock off this fuckery" but the guards aren't having it [01:23 PM] Bocaj: “You can’t neutralize my powers” is a weird flex when you get caught anyway [01:23 PM] Wack'd: Yeah [01:24 PM] Wack'd: GTAA decides to exposit his backstory to Sue [01:26 PM] Bocaj: I like to imagine that she makes the blah blah gesture while he talks [01:26 PM] Wack'd: He was an ancient Roman soldier sent to investigate a "falling star" which, of course, was actually an alien spaceship. He managed to dispatch its sole occupant and steal their armor, which imparted to him great smartitude [01:26 PM] Bocaj: Sure, of course [01:26 PM] maxwellelvis: Aaarrgh! No! Not another Prester John! [01:27 PM] maxwellelvis: John Byrne, have you no decency at all, sir?! [01:27 PM] Wack'd: By the time he got back his platoon had pulled out of the region for reasons unknown so he did what anyone from another culture with superior force and no mandate does when stranded across borders and take up dictatorship as a hobby [01:28 PM] Wack'd: So, uh. [01:28 PM] Wack'd: There are some...coloring discrepancies...in this book [01:29 PM] Umbramatic: oh [01:29 PM] Wack'd: I glossed over a panel with a Black Frankie Raye because, uh, I didn't really have a good joke about it, frankly [01:29 PM] Wack'd: But it seems instructive because there are two flashback panels where GTAA is colored Black and then a further three where he's a white guy [01:30 PM] Bocaj: In fairness [01:30 PM] Bocaj: That is in character for a Roman [01:30 PM] Bocaj: The dictatorship as a hobby I mean [01:31 PM] Wack'd: Dude has gone increasingly mask-off, racism-wise--during his backstory he boasts about rendering all his subjects mute because their language offended them and trying to teach them Roman was a bust because he still hated their "gibbering monkey voices" [01:31 PM] Wack'd: So, uh, I guess we'll see if this issue ends with An Aesop [01:31 PM] Bocaj: .... [01:31 PM] Umbramatic: wow dude [01:32 PM] maxwellelvis: He... DOES know there were black people in Rome, right? [01:32 PM] Wack'd: Bryne? I mean it's the 80s [01:32 PM] maxwellelvis: Either or [01:32 PM] Wack'd: Most pop culture assumed every country had monoracial societies in The Past until like ten years ago [01:33 PM] Bocaj: Not that rome wasn’t racist to anyone not from rome but [01:33 PM] Wack'd: You can pin a lot on Bryne but "yeah of course Romans were all white" is pretty on par [01:33 PM] Wack'd: Oh also GTAA deliberately named himself after Caligula so there's that settled [01:33 PM] Bocaj: Sure [01:34 PM] Umbramatic: so we can stop calling him Grand Theft Auto Anarchy [01:34 PM] Bocaj: We don’t have to [01:34 PM] Wack'd: Anyway GTAA wants Sue as his bride and if she refuses he will force Johnny and Ben to fight [01:35 PM] Wack'd: ...to the death, not like usual [01:35 PM] Bocaj: Ha [01:35 PM] Bocaj: It’d be funny if she was like “oh is it Tuesday already?” [01:35 PM] Wack'd: *long, deep sigh*

[01:36 PM] Wack'd: Thankfully Sue's immediately like "his powers come from his helmet, right? All I gotta do is take the helmet off" [01:37 PM] Wack'd: Turns out that helmet granted lots of powers [01:37 PM] Wack'd: Like immortality for him and his subjects [01:37 PM] Wack'd: And structural integrity for his city [01:37 PM] Wack'd: And the suppressive effect on the Four's powers [01:38 PM] Wack'd: Aaaaaaaaand there's no ontological inertia [01:38 PM] Umbramatic: ._. [01:38 PM] Wack'd: So just by taking the helmet off GTAA and all his slaves immediately die and the city crumbles [01:38 PM] Bocaj: Of course [01:38 PM] Wack'd: Kind of a bum deal for the people who spent twenty centuries in servitude [01:39 PM] Wack'd: "WE'RE FREE!" 💀 [01:39 PM] Bocaj: Sue: “well that’s the most people I’ve ever killed at once” [01:39 PM] Umbramatic: F [01:40 PM] Bocaj: “I never wanted to be dead, Surfer. Frankly, I only died out of peer pressure” [01:40 PM] Wack'd: And so everyone escapes, Reed does an exposition dump, and the story immediately ends [01:40 PM] Bocaj: No moral? [01:40 PM] Wack'd: Nope [01:41 PM] Umbramatic: "don't wear funky alien helmets kids" [01:41 PM] Wack'd: So...maybe Bryne was just being racist. I mean it seems probable but also it goes waaaaaaay mask-off in a way I don't think even Bryne woulda thought acceptable [01:43 PM] Wack'd: Anyway I do not think I have time for another issue before I gotta leave for work. Perhaps when I return later this evening we will do the next story, which is about everyone's favorite established Four baddie [01:43 PM] Wack'd: Terrax the Untamed [01:43 PM] Umbramatic: :O [01:43 PM] Wack'd: Who despite being from the 70s and thus far more recent I still had to look up

#1982 #John Bryne #The Main Book

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tiger-in-the-flightdeck · 5 years ago

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@lepetiterik asked: For the writer's game: 1, 6, 16, 19, 24, 34, 39, 44, and 47! Enjoy!

And like an idiot, I answered it privately. Oops

1. Do you listen to music when you write?

Absolutely. I have to. And I usually only listen to one song on repeat. If I’m writing something heavy, I listen to Disturbed’s cover of Sound Of Silence. If it’s fun and fast paced, or maybe even a bit silly, it’s Shut Up And Dance. I’m currently doing A Place On Earth for a fic I’m chipping away at.

6. Single or multiple POV?

It depends on the fandom and the length, to be honest. If I’m writing Canon Holmes and Watson, it’s always single POV, and always first person. If it’s a longer fic for different fandoms, I’ll switch the point of view between characters once in a while, but generally stick with one for major events. If it’s a short one shot, it’s almost exclusively single point of view. But I almost never switch between more than two people.

16. How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied with a project?

Technically, one. But that’s a bit misleading. I edit as I write. So I’ve never just spewed a bunch of words onto a page until it’s done, then go back and edit that way. I write a few paragraphs, set it aside for an hour, reread, and change what doesn’t fit. I also have a few dear friends who read along as I write and give wonderful advice and suggestions. When the final piece is done, it’s usually polished to the point that it’s where I want it, and I just have to go through and look for missing commas and spelling errors.

19. How do you keep yourself motivated?

Having people read AS I’m writing, in real time, is the best way. I am such a sucker for a live audience.

24. Favourite genre to write and read

Urban fantasy, with humour. Not crack humour, but witty comedy. Think Shaun of the Dead, if it were about vampires instead of zombies. Or basically anything by Tanya Huff. If I could call Tanya Huff a genre, that would be it.

34. What was the hardest scene you ever had to write?

There’s a tie here for me. It’s between Sherlock doing a factor reset of himself at the end of Software Malfunction, and a scene in an unpublished chapter of my modern take on Scandal in Bohemia involving Holmes experiencing serious gender dysphoria. Because of coming to a crashing halt in that scene, I haven’t opened that fic in a couple of years.

39. Weirdest character concept you’ve ever had

Bahahaha, okay, so in high school, I was writing this vampire story. You know, like EVERY other goth kid in the history of the world. Now, I was writing this without realising that I was A- Projecting onto these characters, B- Had several different mental disorders, and C- REALLY FUCKING QUEER. Like, I had no idea that what I was feeling was actually me being non binary, and the acest ace that ever looked at a naked body and went ‘Ehh’ while shrugging like a Frenchman. So it isn’t weird to me now, but at the time? Boy howdy, did I think it was weird: Each of my vampires would switch between their gender representations whenever they felt like it. The werewolves could change their sexual characteristics when they shifted between forms. So if they’d been a wolf for a day, when they became human formed again, it could be with different genitals if they so wished.

This also explained my immediate, and intense love for Good Omens I developed when finding the book stuck down the back of a shelf in my drama class when I was sixteen and reading that bit about Aziraphale and Crowley being sexless unless they put in an effort. I was like “Damn, why do I identify with these characters???”

44. How much research do you do?

Oh god, so much. Here is a list of tabs I currently have open: The Great Fire Of Rome, The Great Fire of London- 1666, Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, Chimera- Mythological Representations, Roman Cavalry Horse Breeds, Distance Measured Mayfair to Soho, Apple Tart Recipes, and Language of Flowers. All of those are for fics that I HAVEN’T EVEN STARTED YET. When I’m actively writing a fic, I will usually pause several times a scene to do a bit of research. Most of which will not get used....

47. Best way to procrastinate

Research, honestly. I’ll start by saying “Oh, I need to find out exactly how long it would take these characters to walk from site A to site B, to see if they could reasonably have this conversation in that time.” which means I have to open up maps. Figure out which path they would take. And in the case of some of my ancient setting fics, find out what the road looked like 1800 years ago. Track down that one tiny line in the original source which tells me sort of vaguely where the setting MIGHT be, then try to narrow it down more specifically. “I know that Uncle Aquilla lived here, and it took this long to travel by cart, a horse drawn cart travels at about this average speed, which logically places their current position here. Now I need to find out what the terrain looks like here, so I can describe the surroundings. Have these flowers changed dramatically in their make up the way tomatoes and watermelon have? What was the climate in this region that long ago? Would it have influenced the migratory patterns of certain birds?” All of that to figure out whether or not I can describe a robin sitting on a heather stalk. Which will probably get scrubbed on my next read through.

I fucking love research.

#tiger writes #long post #question meme #writing meme

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hellfiredawn · 6 years ago

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📱 FOR EVERYONE ALSO I DIDNT SEE THIS UNTIL NOW PLS FORGIVE

send 📱 to find out about my muse's phone.

ben gillespie edition:

what ringtone my muse has set for yours: chateau by angus & julia stone.what contact photo my muse has set for yours: see above.what my muse thinks of the way yours texts: adorable. ben thinks she texts just like she speaks. forthright and to the point, no bullshit (at least, to him).how quickly my muse responds to your texts: almost immediately, if he’s near his phone.how often our muses text: a lot. ben will find a funny meme and send it to her, or find a new tea flavour and ask if she wants some. emma will hear a song that reminds her of him and think about texting him, but he already has texted her.how often our muses call: sometimes. usually a quick two minute conversation, along the lines of “hey, i’m coming over with pizza” or “do you know where i put those star wars socks i like?”does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours: never on purpose. if he is otherwise ... pre-occupied .. he will not answer her calls. but he would never see her call and not answer.last text sent from my muse to yours: [ sent → 8:05pm ] hey, are u coming home tonight? [ sent → 8:15pm ] alright. well. i’m gnna sleep on ur couch. [ sent → 9:30pm ] hope ur okay. [ sent → 11:30am ] hey. text me back already. [ sent → 12:45 pm ] ems? you’re kinda making me nervous ....

astrid germanicus edition.

what ringtone my muse has set for yours: you should see me in a crown by billie eilish.what contact photo my muse has set for yours: see above.what my muse thinks of the way yours texts: annoying, but in a loving way. the big sister kind of annoying.how quickly my muse responds to your texts: usually will take a couple of hours, sometimes a day or two. astrid is the type of person to look at a text and forget about it.how often our muses call: occasionally. usually when astrid wants to borrow clothes, or when they miss each other and want to go out for a fun girl’s brunch.does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours: sometimes. usually when astrid is doing something she knows emma wouldn’t approve of.last text sent from my muse to yours: [ sent → 8:10pm ] emma ... don’t ... don’t come over .. pls ....

nero germanicus edition.

what ringtone my muse has set for yours: none. do you really think he knows how to do that?what contact photo my muse has set for yours: see above.what my muse thinks of the way yours texts: confusing. he isn’t entirely sure what emojis are. or why she keeps sending him little hearts (are they to show how many people she has killed? he hopes so). how quickly my muse responds to your texts: slowly. not because he is ignoring them, but he doesn’t particularly like using his phone. he’s still kind of scared of it.how often our muses call: emma calls him a lot, not the other way around. just to check up on him -- or, to make sure he still loves her. jury is still out on that one.does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours: sometimes. he is usually in one of his manic states, however. doesn’t always want to get his daughter involved.last text sent from my muse to yours: [ sent → 7:45 pm ] Yes, my darling. I am home. Please, come over.

miguel ortega edition.

what ringtone my muse has set for yours: under pressure by queen.what contact photo my muse has set for yours: see above.what my muse thinks of the way yours texts: not often enough. he misses her, but hates to admit it. will very rarely text her first. how quickly my muse responds to your texts: although he rarely texts first, when she does message him, he will respond almost immediately. entirely coincidence, if were to ask him.how often our muses call: again, not often enough.does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours: never would. he knows if emma is calling him, then there is some very important reason. he will always take her call.last text sent from my muse to yours: [ sent → 6:45pm ] ugh i should not of eaten that food court taco. [ sent → 6:46pm ] or you know .. ten of them haha

nick germanicus edition.

what ringtone my muse has set for yours: que sera sera by doris day.what contact photo my muse has set for yours: see above.what my muse thinks of the way yours texts: he loves getting a text from her. no matter where he is in the world, he always has time for her.how quickly my muse responds to your texts: always promptly. if not straight away, it is always no longer than an hour.how often our muses call: very often. nick will call her and tell her about the place he is visiting, and she will tell him about her day.does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours: never on purpose. he always has time for her.last text sent from my muse to yours: [ sent → 3:05 am ] i know you must be asleep, but i just saw the most adorable puppy and i thought you would appreciate it. [ sent → 3:05 am ] multimedia message.

#amazing .........#biirdbone

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kuuderekun · 6 years ago

Text

Misconceptions about the Magi and the Census

Matthew 2:1 clearly says.

Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem

And yet today the notion is constantly being promoted that the Magi arrived 2 years later, or at least over a year. The first argument for this presented is saying that Jesus was called a "child" not a "baby". However the same Greek word translated "child" in Matthew 2:8, Luke uses in the same form in 2:17 to refer to the newborn Jesus. And the form of the word used in Matthew 2:9 is used in Luke 2:21 of Jesus at his Circumcision. So that whole argument is based on ignorance of the Greek. That Herod ordered everyone under two years old to be killed was probably him grossly rounding up. Matthew 2:16 clarifies Herod was killing two years and under from when they saw the Star. And at the time Herod asked when they saw it they both may have thought the birth happened when they saw the star. But they were Human. God's inspired Word in Matthew 2:1 clearly and unambiguously synchronizes the Birth of Jesus to when the Magi arrived in Jerusalem, not when the Star was first seen. God used the Star to bring them to where he wanted them when he wanted them. And I think even if the Magi told Herod the King was probably born now not then, Herod would not have wanted to take a chance on it. Matthew 2:8 says Herod told them to "search diligently" so he may have given them plenty of time before realizing he'd been snubbed. So I don't think the two year time frame in question cleanly begins or ends with the Birth of Jesus. "You're placing the Presentation in The Temple between the magi's Visit and Herod ordering the massacre" You may object. Herod wasn't always in Jerusalem, in fact sometimes he usually wasn't. He may have been there when Jesus was born simply to be there for Hanukkah. So it's easily possible he wasn't there 40 days later when the Presentation happened. But there is one last argument against The Magi arriving in Jerusalem when Jesus was born, and I saved that for last cause I want to use it to transition into something else. That argument is that in Matthew 2 Jesus and his parents are living in a House not an Inn. Before I'd argued simply that a few days could be enough time for them to find better living quarters, as not everyone in Bethlehem when they first arrived was gonna stay there, some the Census may have been making travel even further. But my views on that have possibly changed, which I want to explain below. The problem is much of how we picture the Birth of Jess is indeed not Biblical. There is no Biblical account of them seeking room in an Inn and finding none. Nor does it anywhere say he was born in a stable or a cave, that tradition comes from Christianized Rome wanting to make a cave for worshiping Adonis into a Church, thus we get the current Church of the Nativity. The one occurrence of the word "inn" in the KJV of Luke 2:7 is mistranslated. The Greek word is Katalumati. The other two times it is used it is translated in the KJV "guestchamber". It means a guest room of sorts usually located on the upper floor of a house. It is used of the Upper Room of the Last Supper in Mark 14:14 and Luke 22:11, one of those is the same author as this verse. And this statement that there was no room in the Katalumati comes after Jesus is born, not before, it's about where to place him after being born. This Katalumati is not where he was born. Luke 2 also doesn't even say Jesus was born as soon as they arrived in Bethlehem. Verses 1-5 tell us the Census brought them to Jerusalem. And then verse 6 says while they were there the time for Mary to give Birth came. They could have been in Bethlehem for weeks or even months. Which also addresses the criticism of making Mary travel this far at a full 9 months. I now think that she may well have been only 4 or 5 months pregnant when they traveled to Bethlehem. So there is in fact nothing in Luke's account to definitively contradict a theory that Jesus was born in a house that Joseph (or his family) owned. Yet I myself was still clouded by these misconceptions when I made all my previous Christmas relevant posts. It's possible there was no room on the main floor because others of the House of David were also staying there at this time. Which is why I want to move on to the Census now. When refuting the common assertion that a Roman census would never require such traveling on message boards I would copy/paste the following which I no longer remember where exactly I got it from.

First of all, lets look at a few early census accounts taken from history and see how they matchup with the Bible: The following is a record of a census taken in the year 104 A.D. which contains similar wording to that found in the Gospel: "From the Prefect of Egypt, Gaius Vibius Maximus. Being that the time has come for the house to house census, it is mandatory that all men who are living outside of their districts return to their own homelands, that the census may be carried out." Another census was uncovered from 48 A.D.which also records a return of the people to their native land for the census. It reads as follows: "I Thermoutharion along with Apollonius, my guardian, pledge an oath to Tiberius Claudius Caesar that the preceding document gives an accurate account of those returning, who live in my household, and that there is no one else living with me, neither a foreigner, nor an Alexandrian, nor a freedman, nor a Roman citizen, nor an Egyptian. If I am telling the truth, may it be well with me, but if falsely, the reverse. In the ninth year of the reign of Tiberius Claudius Augustus Germanicus Emperor." It is interesting to note that these two census accounts required a person to return to their homeland to be registered. The same is true of the Gospel account.

The response I got (that at the time I wasn't ready to respond to) was that the point of these was to bring land owners to where they owned their land, not the hometown of a distant ancestor from a thousand years ago. (Another objection is that these were Egyptian customs, but it's logical similar ones were done in neighboring provinces). That notion seems inconsistent with the Nativity narrative only because of the extra-Biblical assumptions I just addressed. The reason these Census instructions were needed is because clearly many people were living somewhere other then where they actually owned their property. Remember, the word translated "Carpenter" in reference to Joseph could also very likely imply he was actually an Architect. He may have been in Galilee because of a construction project, perhaps one of Herod's many. And of course those insisting Nazareth is to young a city to be the Biblical one suggest it was at most brand new when Jesus was born. Maybe Joseph was helping build Nazareth? Or Sepphoris? This Census, (whichever one it was, I'll try to tackle that in the future), then required him to return home sooner then originally planned. And if my argument that Bethlehem is "Zion, which is the City of David" is true. Then that adds a lot to the above observations. As we now see that David's family never stopped being linked to Bethlehem after they became Royalty. Now I've seen someone argue that Nazareth not Bethlehem must be their hometown in Luke because of Luke 2:39. Well Luke 2:3 says they are to return to their "own city", so if Luke 2:39 is calling Nazareth their "own City" in contrast to Bethlehem, then you're not even dealing with an inconsistency with other records, but accusing Luke 2 of being inconsistent with itself. Since no one accuses Luke of being garbled together from different authors like they do some other books, that option isn't really viable. Luke 2:39 is simply about Nazareth becoming their new hometown after deciding to move there permanently, with Matthew 2 providing the reasons why this change in residence happened. It may be that the English simply words this misleadingly. Now this doesn't change that events of Matthew 1 take place while Mary and Joseph were in Nazareth even though Matthew doesn't mention Nazareth in that chapter. But Matthew doesn't mention Bethlehem in that chapter either, Bethlehem is first mentioned in Matthew 2 when Jesus was born, and six to nine months separated the events of chapters 1 and 2. In fact the way Bethlehem is specified in Matthew 2:1 could be taken as implying that's not where they were previously.

And it's still possible that Mary was indigenous to Nazareth. Maybe Joseph met and courted her while in Nazareth on business. Or maybe this arranged marriage is what first brought him there. But the fact that Luke gives us the impression that the events of Matthew 1 didn't happen till three months into Mary's pregnancy makes most sense if we presume Joseph was living in Bethlehem when the Annunciation and Visitation happened in Nisan, and came to Nazareth for the wedding around the end of Sivan or beginning of Tammuz.

https://midseventiethweekrapture.blogspot.com/2017/01/misconceptions-about-magi-and-census.html

#Christmas #Nativity #X-Mas #Magi #Wise Men #Three Wise Men #Census #Nativity Narrative #Apologetics #Bethlehem #Nazareth #Sepphoris

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anime-dub-transcripts · 2 years ago

Text

Hetalia: World Stars Episode #13: Belgium, Luxembourg, Netherlands, and "That" Dog Transcript

This episode has Benelux (Belgium, Netherlands, and Luxembourg).

Belgium: I’m tired of other countries always kicking sand in our faces!

Luxembourg: Sorry. If I were more powerful, I could protect us both.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Belgium: Ehum…hey, I’m not blaming you, Luxem. I can’t exactly fight back either.

Luxembourg: I know. But do you ever think about how much easier our lives would be if we were able to?

Belgium: Constantly. And if we really muscled up, that would solve everything! Just think about it! Ehem!

Buff Belgium: Ohh!

Belgium: Maybe I should start working out!

(Buff Belgium: Heah! Ehe…)

Luxembourg: Uhn! Please, no! I don’t want you to get all huge and weird and vain!

(Belgium: Wahahaha! Eeeeeheh…ehehewewe…)

Belgium: Getting buff is a lifestyle choice; I won’t have time for anything else! Besides, our big brother’s trying to go the diplomatic route! So let’s have faith in him.

(Luxembourg: Weheheheheheheh…)

Luxembourg: You’re right, of course. It’s wrong for us to sit around whining when he’s out there trying his best every single day. I bet that he’d laugh if he could see us right now.

Belgium: I don’t know, I’ve never seen him laugh.

Belgium’s thoughts: But I know he’s smart and kind, so I’m sure he’d have some words of wisdom for us in this trying time.

Dream Netherlands: Try to stay away from people who say things like, “I don’t know how to ever repay you”, like they’ve never heard of money before.

Belgium’s thoughts: Well, maybe not those words.

Dream Netherlands: Hm?

Belgium’s thoughts: Rather, something more universally comforting and reassuring!

{Text on gold bar: 999.9 GOLD 1000g}

Dream Netherlands: Convert all your money into gold because gold will never betray you.

Belgium’s thoughts: No, not those words either! Forget about money and focus! Remember how he is in everyday life.

Dream Netherlands: Huah. As much as I’d love to go back to my own house soon, I don’t really want to dirty the place up.

Luxembourg: Wait a minute, sis! Why didn’t we think of money? It’s perfect! Haha! If we can’t fight for power, we’ll just have to make boatloads of cash! Then we can buy our own power!

Belgium: Oh, because there’s nothing morally gray about that in the least!

Luxembourg: I’m so glad you agree.

(Belgium: Auh!)

Luxembourg: And now that’s decided, with our powers combined, the Benelux union of Belgium, Netherlands, and Luxembourg can begin our takeover of the finances of all of Europe!

Belgium: Ehah…cool idea, but, uh…maybe you should slow down there and take a breath, Luxembourg.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Belgium: Ehehem! They’re gorgeous! Hey, big brother! I heard that tulips almost crashed our economy once, is that true?

Netherlands: Ja, it was a major issue.

(Ja: Yes → Dutch)

Luxembourg: They got super popular and the price skyrocketed, but then…

{Caption: Tulips}

Luxembourg: When the bubble popped, growers had more bulbs then they could handle.

Netherlands: Selling leftover bulbs to foreigners was the only way out.

Dream Netherlands: Look, this one’s rare!

Dream France: Yay! That means I need it!

Dream Netherlands: This one’s new!

Dream Britain: Spiffy!

Dream Netherlands: This one’s elegant!

Dream Austria: I’ll take your word for it.

Luxembourg: Just goes to show you the opportunity is everywhere, as long as you can think outside the box.

(Belgium: Neheheah!)

Belgium: That’s our brother for you: fall down seven times, stand up eight, and then find a way to sell the weeds you noticed while you were on your back.

(Netherlands: Hey, you! Buy some flowers!)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pochi: Woof!

Japan: Pardon. Miss Belgium?

Belgium: Hm?

Japan: Where can I find Nello’s house and village?

Belgium: Nero’s house?

{Caption: Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus}

Belgium: Oh! I think you’re looking for little Italy’s place!

Japan: Forgive me, I did not explain well.

(Belgium: Ah!)

Japan: I’m looking for the village in A Dog of Flanders.

Belgium: A village in a dog, huh? We have many dogs in Flanders, so I’m not sure where to send you.

Japan: I see. Well, then, can you tell me instead how to find the Cathedral of Our Lady?

Belgium: Yes! That bus will get you there in no time!

Japan: Why Italy’s place? I am not mistaken, this is the Flanders region.

Belgium: A village in a dog…I didn’t know we had a super-fantasy dog like that!

Narrator: This was not the first tourist to ask about A Dog of Flanders.

(Belgium: Hm? Ehum…)

{Caption: A Dog of Flanders}

Narrator: And he would not be the last.

(Belgium: Hm?)

Belgium: So what’s with all the tourists asking about a cathedral and some random dog lately?

Belgian man #1: Well, I can understand why they want to see the cathedral, but every time I try to show them a dog, they say it’s not the right one and eventually just give up.

(Dog: Woof!)

Belgian man #2: I wonder if it’s some sort of secret code.

Belgium: A code? If that’s the case, then…maybe that’s their way of asking us Belgians out on a date! Like, “Hey, good-looking, would you like to see a man about a dog?”!

Belgian man #1: That’s a pretty weak pick-up line, if you ask me.

Narrator: It took a while, but Belgium finally discovered that A Dog of Flanders is, in fact, a book.

Belgium: Oh! The story really does take place here. Hm. Hm, hm. Ehem! Ehemem! Weahehehehe! Heah! Belgians aren’t cold-hearted like that; don’t believe the lies! Eheaheahehaeaah!

#anime #anime transcripts #anime dub transcripts #hetalia #hetalia dub transcripts

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tillerman1 · 3 years ago

Text

TORMENT [to the word] (pt.1)

TORMENT

A screenplay by Ingmar Bergman

translated by Thomas Jester to the word

TORMENT: A knife on an abscess

The summer after my matriculation low me ill and suddenly advent TORMENT. It was for finished in one yield over an old "Latin writing exercise" that each started at one end, all events just came, it was like a compulsion. When I the writing complete read me through everything, knew me relieved and buried this first, only and as I hoped closing read procreation in an old dresser drawer's roomy darkness.

How then TORMENT stack upward again from of oblivion, taken up, reviewed, made till screenplay and finally till film are admittedly a remarkable but though completely alternative history.

For this film's part entertained I three hopes and I am happy over to get talk about them.

1.) I desired that TORMENT became a knife on an abscess, that it had something liberating to come with simultaneously as I hope that the spectator might find it worth the entrance ticket.

2.) I desired that Caligula might become revealed, purged, disarmed. There are namely many sorts Caligulas, major and minor, rather harmless varieties or sickening monster, apparent or insidious. But on one thing feels Caligula always again. He creates hatred, pungency, destruction among humans. He is foreign for all joint community, lacking contact opportunities and natural sympathy.

3.) I desired that man might feel compassion with Caligula, as he none himself is the cause of his situation. He is as poison snake, bacterium, the extinguished harmful who by no means himself understands the evil he comes providing, but as ever alone, always unhappy hunted by furious furies, the custom terror and the drift till harm. If man strikes up the word Caligula in a conversational dictionary stands following:

Caligula: (Latin = »small boot«) F 12. 12. 41 Roman emperor, son to Germanicus. C:s bloodthirst and abnormal addictions did him soon so hated that he was killed.

TORMENT

Film manuscript by Ingmar Bergman.

This film dedicated Caligula and all his ilk in both dead as living language, Christianity, geography and history…

QUIDQUID ID EST TIMEO DANAOS ET DONA FERENTES.

(HOWEVER THAT IT'S DREAD GREEKS AND PRESENTS BEARING.)

(Caligula's first words till his class, significant for his character.)

Caligula is a man of something over fifty years. His exterior is not in any way startling. He is dark, something white-haired. Face occupied mainly of one pair quite powerful glasses with large black frames. When he takes off the glasses alters his face suddenly and gets small insignificant, almost frightened.

It is after so of Caligula, how he has a facade to the outside world, a facade that he till the utmost endeavor it to maintain. »The Cat Story« is significative for his human island type. "Biting not I as bite you and therefore bite me first." This has designed one EnGarde position as has developed one strong predisposition: the stiletto sharp sadism, the lust to see humans plagued, feel power over them. Before for this sadism is naturally one white stain: "I am no criminal, I can none make a fly offended." He is not himself fully aware, he is one of these many humans, who lives his life till half, in a sort's half-conscious, where the external events only reach the soul indirectly and thereby lose their original wounding and devouring effect but also the positively building and curative.

The reason till this violent EnGarde-in-status based itself on a given helpless-unit-feeling that with Caligula has reached a powerful (let go for pathological) development. It is admittedly dangerous to scold everything pathological. Such that based itself on the undisciplined still-satisfactory-drift of the one or other kind need after not endure it, but Caligula's steps show for-a-knot-hot, his intentional perverse lust to admit his horror and expose himself, his flagrancy towards probably pathological. And if man experiments your view forward, what as conceivable comes to happen him, ends it with all security on insane family or also super he in the at dipsomaniac institution. That he would take some life of himself is hardly likely. It makes not humans like he (judgment is too suspicious concerning opportunities in neighbor life).

His relationship till the girl Bertha is utterly not any Mr. Hyde-folly, but are just by his easy, almost everyday system so insanely creepy. The girl is from beginning afraid for him, mostly for that her limited understanding and intuition not can take him. This fright gives him one advantage that he utilizes under the thesis "eat not thou me so eat I you."

"Murder" that after actually not is any murder in ordinary meaning, comes for him as a deep, unusual direct shock, that also furnishes about terribly in his perversion's bedroom. Such conditions to the boy are similar. Sandman till illustration would he never venture himself in. But this upright, sensitive guy selects he of instinctive security till his victims. There are just that category's lads in the class who he plays with cum that suggests up the horror in whole the class. The insane paralyzing fear that only (of my experience) can break out in a school class under the experienced school man's management.

A final wants I make a personal confession concerning Caligula and humans as he.

I think that they occurred through one nature's mistake. They have till single task to themselves suffer and cause other woes. There perhaps is some meaning of it. But as humans are them failed, without development, without fortune facilities, without real life. The most radical would naturally to killing them. Perhaps also the most merciful. "A characterized compassion" is impossible when there applies Caligula. What man feeling is dislike, disgust, a shiver of discomfort, which before the bugs that wedge front and back and disappears of hole soil under a just articulated stone.

Jan-Erik Widgren is a boy of 18 years. He is not unusual in any way. He is a schoolboy right and plain with all that it means.

Psychologically undergoes Jan-Erik a development under the film's walking. When it starts is he something quixotic, writes poetry, plays piano, thinks of a clean woman who will become his wife and between its has he surely quite the doctor to keep out of "losses" that forces him to one and otherwise that he considers with antipathy and one some resignation.

Through the event's race changes it.

First confronts he of a woman, who procures him setbacks in his beauty established principles. He is not dear at her, but goes unto[?] all fall till bed with her and rises upwards (till his surprise) but too big conscience. Like all your collegians with a little Sturm und Drang draw is he right isolated, alone. He finds in Bertha someone who bothers herself for him and requires him in one such way that it doesn't need encroach on his own usual and very fragile puberty-bargains with to himself. Therefore accepts he her and gets fixed on her with a tenderness that she reciprocates, and which gives him a reassured body and thereby one certain freedom in the soul. [?]

But away for away quite hastily breaks this good relationship asunder. It is Caligula as picks asunder it unconsciously, bit for bit. When Bertha is there snotty, full and howling, is he with even stranger for her. He was for never dear at her, loved her not and this new stress is their relationship not mighty to bear. It goes asunder.

Slowly but surely run he toward desperation. Make out some rash is when he beats Caligula, second is when Jan-Erik in wild despair rushes home. Fully broken out is it when it does his residence on Bertha's floor there he hides out like a wounded animal. [?]

But the knot is not so hard applied. It is a normal, something oversensitive, rights-aware only at large balanced boy it applies cum he lets the rector help out. [?] He returns home, not longer collegian but something bitter, something sensible, with a feeling of how lives probably are damned, indeed sometimes run "on clean sophistication," but also is a good life with obvious meaning in the most as done. The final image shows him lying on some flooring, weeping, this can seem depressing, yet is intrinsically the contrary. It would worse if he was silent and bit together about himself.

Till at parents relate it to like the most boys of his category: armed neutrality.

Jan-Erik is there nothing wrong on, he becomes one good fellow.

Bertha, that a arm (wretched) small life! It is that intrinsically not very say whether. She is constitution-kind, looks intrinsically not slutty outward, but are from circumstances' power start such go revolving: "Man wants after exist with, man want course live." Till end has she lost count cum with her something indolent temperament has she not bothered herself so much about it.

Then has she enacted knowledge of Caligula in like way as of many other men, at a tobacco shop and its facilities. Caligula has seen kind out cum so with even is she the scaring her more than all otherwise. The horror ramped till the excessive, mainly suctioned of her herself cum she allows herself willingly abused mentally by Caligula.

The togetherness with Jan-Erik gives her something respite and shows her as she is: a kind girl, who not asks more than how gain draw someone to think about, that could have a live human text beside herself in bed, to avoid being alone.

She suppers death itself. Drinking on Caligula initiative, lets to tortured, suffer from malnutrition. Her will to live flows as away cum she deceases so well as on peculiar desire.

I find much pity for her and desired that she had become married with any kind fellow cum that she had got many children and a small alright home. Perhaps was it her small adventurousness, inability to take care of to herself, that brought her performing. A victim is she in all fall and I am nowadays if conceivably yet more convinced of that Caligula should slide as shot.

The giant playground outside school. It is unsettled and empty. A little lad comes rushing far from behind. He runs with high speed over the yard on the diagonal.

Contra steps up till home entrance. The small lad rushes up the stairs. Trips, travels himself, rushing further. Gets with effort and difficulty up the door that is large, large. Slips in. [?]

Inside the door.

The large vestibule with doors to the prayer hall. From within heard Bull Jesus' monotonously echoing voice. The lad (12 years) looks at the wall clock that shows 10 minutes over eight. The lad swallows a few times. His bad conscience is unambiguous. He sneaks silent further up next staircase and - next. He tries (to) make himself as small as possible.

A teacher goes in corridors, opens doors to classrooms, and peeks in, open till storerooms, maps room cum toilettes. Snoop everywhere. Can further.

Lad hears echoing footsteps. He sneaks in through the door. It is chemistry room, with one long row large table. He dives yourself down behind one.

The teacher opens the door till the chemistry room, gets hastily through it. Out again. Lad, as crouched, travels himself up, sneaks up till the door and listens. Opens and glides out.

Long corridor.

Lad sneaks. You sneak past a cross corridor. Stays as riveted at the ground.

The teacher comes in the cross corridor. He gets sight of the boy, stops.

Lad sets himself off, rushes like a shot through the corridor.

The teacher turns, sneaks around a corner.

The kiddie turns around one other corner and rushes straight at the arms of the teacher. The lad finds for good to start howling. The teacher takes him in some neck skin and for away wrongdoer.

A classroom.

The lad, still cohesive in some neck skin, howling, discarded down in a bench. The teacher takes up the class book. Stare gloomily at The Lad. Turns up the book, writes.

The stairs cum the corridor.

Pippi comes walking rather soon. The hat on the neck. The rock{coat} flutters. The white hair test {tufts} stands right out. He goes past "the lads" classroom, yet stops, turns about cum peeks in. Pippi having's clear to –

PIPPI : Mornin' the adjunct.

The young, gloomy and zealous teacher turns of head and considers Pippi –

ADJUNCT : Good morning lector.

Pippi steps in, looking at the howling boy –

PIPPI : Till what offense has this the sorrow's youngling done to guilty now then.

ADJUNCT : He has come for {too} late! Come for late till morning prayer!!

The adjunct beats back his class book and prepares himself to go.

PIPPI : Yes only, that have after I've also done.

The adjunct turns himself lightning-fast if as if he would say something, but is stunned. The lad ends howling and looks up. An explained grin bursts slowly out on his snotty small gangster-physiognomy.

Bull-Jesus fishes with the tongue after loose palate, as holding on to allow himself off, bending head deep down where he stands at the oratory's lectern.

BULL - JESUS : Aameen!

The organ puff, sighs. One long boy with nervous hands and the eyes in the notes intones bluntly "Alone God..."

The school's 856 pupils plus teachers and principal travel themselves {rises} as one man and sing with ho and hello and a certain clamp –

SKOLAN : Alone God in heaven-rich, spring Grace and price belong…

Grönstrand stands stunned, stares at the psalmbook, then shoulders he on Jan-Erik –

GRÖNSTRAND : The damned in it. I mayst nothing Latin till in daylight… You should see man field there. I had premonitions with Mother.

JAN - ERIK : Where sits they.

GRÖNSTRAND : In a gastric. Boy! waking(?) diarrhea.

SKOLAN : For all the Grace he loves rich with us has wanted make.

BROBERG (sings in falsetto): Think you not that sounds neat when one other sings soprano?

Östergren stands with Latin grammar in highest grab –

ÖSTERGREN : Hold the jaw. I'm studying. Interference me not! Volo, nolo, malo, cupio, juvo, studeo… [I want; I do not want; bad; I; watch out; studying]

SKOLAN : He earth donated - great delight and peace...

Bergman and Krefler.

BERGMAN : A Tuesday with little home sadist Caligula.

Caligula tramps up and down. Turns something with left arm as if he had rheumatism in it.

BERGMAN : He has rheumatism today.

KREFLER : Becomes he fun. Yes yes!

BERGMAN : Fun ... he gets sublime.

SKOLAN : And of a human may well rejoice at –

Sandman, bald, burning eyes, strange revelation, lies with rapture.

SANDMAN : You understand, one another was after quite hungover when the donna said that she rolls of a lump.

Göterström, small, glasses, impressed –

GÖTERSTRÖM : Ouch, ouch you.

SANDMAN : You know ... ANVIL have man after not thought oneself to be... yet.

Sång-Pelle stands with closed eyes, hands at the gastric, happy. Sings so it's empty –

SKOLAN + SÅNG - PELLE : God's forever good wiiiiiiiill…

An oratory.

Everyone's heads bent on Bull Jesus' initiative. Dead silent.

Two schoolboys lean themselves together and affect sleep. Panoramic up. One jams a salmon book down in the pants. The other ends with to whittle in the bench with his penknife. A third wakes to where he has stood and lost the psalmbook on some floor.

It becomes up crime's signal.

Long rows march now, bench row after bench row, class after class, outward from the oratory.

At the door stand two teachers.

Each pupil, who goes past, shows up his psalm book. Then comes one - no psalm book -

TEACHER I : No psalmbook.

A PUPIL : Mine's stolen.

TEACHER 2: Lie at least not. From ranks.

The pupil joins till one small cluster of other individuals -

PUPIL 1 : Will it stick?

Pupil 1. responds not. Make(s) only one much ugly and vast grimace.

Some train of pupils.

Faces in long lines. Descriptive, intensive. Scores of faces.

The mighty stairwell. Mingle of boys outside classrooms. The rings in clocks. Some stairwell becomes hastily ground. There comes the teaching. They go in of yet classroom, whose door closes. It gets quieter and quieter.

Noise cum upset, whistles cum clamor. Ringning.

It is silent and plot everywhere.

Classroom system.

It is silent. All 25 pupils seated still, cautious. The roof lamps are a spark. Day stands gray outside, rain sprinkles down along the three large windows. Panoramic up. Caligula in the rostrum.

He travels out. Moves silent and light. Taps pointer. Moves through the class. Talks so slowly and low -

CALIGULA : I will not put at fingers between ("I'll show no mercy.") Ignores you me so - ignoring - me - you. (pause) Wants you-all have the un-pleas-ant so GLADLY for me.

Up with pointer straight in eyesight on the spotty and resin near horror-hypnotic Grönstrand. Pokes with the pin against his larynx –

CALIGULA : Perhaps Mr. Grönstrand wants last friendly to continue.

Grönstrand sighs. He bending his spotty and constantly distressed face over text and reads with high and shrill meeting –

GRÖNSTRAND : After Fabius Maximums thus had broken up, marched the army ten days, then it struck camp at the river Igas. The under-command-haves called till the consul's tent, where he till told them ... where he till told them ... with to ... unless the campaign plan would to and then unless the campaign plan would to and then that they ... unless ...

Grönstrand bend your face, his eyes are confused, save, he is smooth in such physiognomy.

Caligula stands silent and then begins he pull in at fingers, the one after the other, slowly –

GRÖNSTRAND : I could not get out the here sentence lecturer.

CALIGULA : So.

Caligula drags in the fingers. The class seated tense, silent. Some rain rushes against the boxes –

CALIGULA : Then maybe Mr. Grönstrand want [to] start on neighbor sentence?

Grönstrand makes a brave attempt to bluff. He begins healthy –

GRÖNSTRAND : This showed legacies be... and then ... individual ... between themselves ... but this till despite if though non ...

Dead silent. Against Caligula.

He takes with a hand against glasses, straightens till them. Sets himself in the lectern, leaning himself forward, puts hands under the chin -

CALIGULA : Grönstrand has not opened the books till now. (pause) (chop till hard) In any fall not there the lesson was. (smiles)

Around Grönstrand.

Some strained giggles from the about-around-sitting -

CALIGULA : I will give Grönstrand occasion till reflection. – Mr. Widgren continues.

Jan-Erik jerks till, begins looking among the lines, finds, begins something choppy –

JAN - ERIK : This synopsis the legates make a good statement.

CALIGULA (breaks off): Stands it so... Karling?

Karling seated just behind Jan-Erik –

KARLING : Pretense.

CALIGULA : Continue.

JAN - ERIK : A good pretense. And since they stayed counsel mutually, wherein they came agreed about that a great gift should delivers at …

Caligula breaks off. Crisply –

CALIGULA : Can Mr. Jan-Erik Widgren not speak Swedish.

Jan-Erik looks up, licks himself of mouth, is very- –

CALIGULA : It called not delivers a gift... That is poor Swedish (fast). What called it, Mr. Widgren?

Jan-Erik stares before himself. Stare and think. The brain has gone in deadlock. Dead silence.

Caligula traveling out of (the) lectern, cum the pointer in hand and goes silent and slowly down the room towards Jan-Erik. He pokes with the pin on Jan-Erik's throat –

CALIGULA : It is till that be witty.

Turns himself round instantly –

CALIGULA : Ström!

Ström, a round boy with gentle, mild, melancholic eyes, takes finger from the nose, startled –

STRÖM : Submit a gift!

Caligula again. He smiles something sly, cozy –

CALIGULA : Has Mr. Widgren heard that before?

Widgren. He grins silly –

WIDGREN : Indeed[,] certainly yes.

CALIGULA (suddenly mocking): Indeed[,] certainly yes. Continue.

WIDGREN : Assumed they before Caesar and assured that they were ready.

CALIGULA : Thanks. That was where we had.

The class draws a sigh of relief. Jan-Erik straightens of himself. But the period is short.

Caligula starts going up and down between the benches right quickly. Questions and answer comes as submachine's matter –

CALIGULA : Prepare some joy, Widgren! Jan-Erik –

JAN - ERIK : Afficere aliquem laetitia. [Latin for: "Affect any joy."]

CALIGULA : Instill any(?) fear.

JAN - ERIK : In … aliquem timore. [Latin for: "In ... any fear."]

Caligula. He stops –

CALIGULA : Instill.

Jan-Erik can not come on some words –

JAN - ERIK : In…

CALIGULA : Well!

JAN - ERIK : Injicere. [Latin for: "Inject."]

Caligula swings the stylus around so it whistles in the air –

CALIGULA : It was someone who whispered. Genitive of impersonal verb. Example. Kreutz.

Kreutz, calm, turns at some head. Leisurely, teasing.

KREUTZ : Miseret, penitet piget, pudet, taedet. [Latin for: "Sorry, repented wearisome, ashamed, tired."]

Caligula. Kreutzs' way annoys him –

CALIGULA : Spare, Karlsson. Karlsson –

KARLSSON : Parco, peperci, parsum, parcere. [Latin for: "spare, forbear, spared, spare."]

Caligula. He allows now the stylus whiz around in a run –

CALIGULA : Flay, Bokstedt.

Bokstedt gets startled –

BOKSTEDT : Plango, plantisi. [Latin for: "bewail, I planted."]

CALIGULA : Wrong. Bergström.

BERGSTRÖM : Plango, planxi, planctum, plangere. [Latin for: "bewail, mourn, mourning, wailing."]

Caligula goes up against Widgren, down to behind him –

CALIGULA : Caesar hostem agressus devicit. [Latin for: "Caesar (the) enemy assault overcame."] Widgren.

He puts the stylus between the shoulder blades on Widgren –

WIDGREN : Caesar attacked and defeated the fiend.

Responds without to turn on some head. Keeps hard on the desk –

CALIGULA : Example of what.

WIDGREN : Participial construction.

CALIGULA : What of them.

WIDGREN : Participium conjunctum. [Latin for: "Participle conjoined."] It is (a) predictive attribute.

CALIGULA : Till what.[sic]

JAN - ERIK (silent).

Caligula swings around and puts to on the desk straight front Jan-Erik –

CALIGULA : Has Mr. Widgren not read on the homework?

Jan-Erik stares Caligula stint in the eyes –

JAN - ERIK : Yes, that has me.

CALIGULA : I think (whispering) I think Mr. Widgren - lies!

JAN - ERIK : No one does I not!

CALIGULA : Not that.

Caligula.

He stares with his on glasses magnified eyes at Jan-Erik.

Silence.

Jan-Erik.

He stares back. Immensely tense, but intrinsically not afraid.

JAN - ERIK : No!

Caligula travels to up. He goes one kind up against blackboard -

CALIGULA : So. So.

Flips to about. Throws out –

CALIGULA : At what verb stands genitive?

Jan-Erik is as seized of one icy horror. But he holds together.

JAN - ERIK : At verb as means remind if, remember, forget, accuse, convict, judge, acquit. Fore business verb.

CALIGULA : Example.

JAN - ERIK : Aestimo. [Latin for "I Think."]

Caligula looks at Jan-Erik. Nods interested –

CALIGULA : So!

JAN - ERIK : Facio, duco, puto. [Latin for "I do, think, I think it.."]

Caligula as above –

CALIGULA : So!

JAN - ERIK : Camo. [Latin for "bit."] Mercor [Latin for "trade"](trying) dono [Latin for "gift"].

All follow under silent tension course-for-events. Caligula approaches himself slowly Jan-Erik. Dead silent.

CALIGULA : Mr. Widgren considers still that Mr. Widgren mayst his lesson.

JAN - ERIK : I'm could it then of yesterday.

CALIGULA : Mr. Widgren is lazy. Mr. Widgren ignores me and my homework.

JAN - ERIK : No, it makes me not.

Caligula has now passed past Widgren. And is farthest down in class.

CALIGULA : So! Not. Strike up the book. Start with the day's homework.

Slamming suddenly with the stylus in an empty desk with all might –

CALIGULA : FAST! FAST!

Jan-Erik and Caligula of background.

JAN - ERIK : For three days collapsed battle. One last did Romans one storm onset …

Caligula sneaks silent on toe up behind Jan-Erik and leans himself over him and peers in his book –

JAN - ERIK : … and chased Hannibal's troops on the flight. Thereby was a large number soldiers captured …

Caligula bend(s) himself instantly down, slams the hand over the book, takes up it. Raises that in the air. Long silence.

Jan-Erik's face.

Hales somehow together itself. The eye creeps in of the skull on him.

Sandman. Staring, mute.

Grönstrand pulls together eyebrows in one childishly desperate grimace.

Caligula and Jan-Erik.

Caligula speaks low –

CALIGULA : What is it here!

Caligula looks out around in the class under silence. So –

CALIGULA : Mr. Widgren uses to of unauthorized aid.

JAN - ERIK (low): Forgot to erase.

Caligula raises an eyebrow, as if he were quite amazed over the information. Plays something –

CALIGULA : Forgot blurring out.

Speaks mildly –

CALIGULA : So. Sure. Forgot blurring out. It is clear.

Turns about, furious –

CALIGULA : Cheating my Lord!

Throws down the book –

CALIGULA (continued): CHEATING!!

Caligula goes slowly up till the lectern. Addressed till eyewear, staring sadly before himself –

CALIGULA : Sad to forced penalize a student for this criminal procedure two months before the student, fourteen days before the writing compounds.

Strikes up the class book –

CALIGULA : Much boring is it. Very.

Jan-Erik.

It is hot despair in the eyes of him. It is quiet. The only as heard is the pen's rasp in the class book.

Caligula.

He hits back the book. Straightens on the eyeglasses –

CALIGULA : I will talk with provost (pause). We mayst probably some part with each other to do, Jan-Erik Widgren.

It rings –

CALIGULA : Good midday.

Caligula glides out.

There is violent excitement in the class –

SANDMAN : One such potty.

GRÖNSTRAND : Man would snap bastard alive.

Students start packing in their books. And walk towards the door. They are fast still occupied by Caligula.

Sandman pouring himself back –

BERGSTRÖM (flings out - the eyes glow in skull on him): Sadist.

SANDMAN : It'll be damn nice to me when you cured this misery. Then will man a slag.[film: Boy, am I going to sleep then] Stream what man should a slag and crib and lead the roll and yield blank it in it here institution.[film: Sleep & eat & forget all about this place.] Come Widgren, then breaking us and buy scratchy.[film: Let's get some cigs.]

They go out.

Widgren and Sandman.

Göterström sits and digs with the spindly hands in some hair. Speaks low for to himself –

GÖTERSTRÖM : I should acquire one picture in constitutional size by him cum then should I stick out eyes on him cum so should I shoot till target on him. The Latin grammar …

He takes out it –

GÖTERSTRÖM : The Latin grammar should I have as privy-paper if it gives you till it.

The tobacconist.

Jan-Erik and Sandman will in.

One newsprint-reading lord stands forward of the shop –

SANDMAN : Good day my sweet Carmen.

Bertha turns herself about, laughing–

BERTHA : That will that be. One caramel. You-all know that self none may sell tobacco at schoolboys.

SANDMAN : Must buy at papa.

BERTHA : To what said he!

SANDMAN : Bah.

Sandman extends out one courtship-true hand and fingers on Bertha (right dined) -

BERTHA : Yuck on it. Let be.

Jan-Erik is markedly embarrassed –

JAN - ERIK : Sandman. Can we not walk, eh!

Bertha and Sandman laugh.

The door opens cum Caligula comes in. Sandman speaks something rushed -

SANDMAN : An Allers was that yes, miss.

BERTHA : Where so good.

SANDMAN : Thanks. Good midday.

Both boys greet reserved and disappear forth from the boutique.

Caligula looks at them.

It gets silent one small while. Caligula considers irritable the newspaper-reading gentleman –

CALIGULA : Havana II.

Bertha takes up the requested - –

CALIGULA : And then a little box Virginia.

Bertha takes forward it. She seems annoyed –

CALIGULA : Wants you-all last kind and cut up it. I have such bad hands, so clumsy.

BERTHA : Yes[,] certainly. Certainly.

It cuts. Cuts a little scratch in the hand –

CALIGULA : Oh, get regard. Did you yours badly.

He takes her hand. Clamps forward some blood. Keeps it, looks at it. Pause. Then jerks Bertha suddenly of her hand. Pale.

BERTHA : Uh, it was nothing. Nothing at all. Was it something else like the lecturer …

Caligula. He shakes on his head, staring a little silly. Then gathers he together their boxes and pays. Goes. Lights his cigar-cigarette.

Home of Caligula.

He presses down the cigar-cigarette in an ashtray with an energetic movement. He sits at his desk with a back at the room. Piles of exercise books. He pretends to read. Behind him diver Aunt Elisabet up. She is a something, thin, dull, pale face, cold eyes with a spark of passion. She stands some moment silent. Then:

AUNT ELISABET : Why answers you not?

His face carrying tracks of horror-blended anger. He shuts up.

AUNT ELISABET : It is still not right of you … I want you of course only well …Answer then … Say something … You have of course been ill, you vet what the doctor said! … I hold of course so much of you … It is so empty, I am so alone.

The room carrying vision for the say. Aunt Elisabet is middle of the floor. A handkerchief creeps misguided out from the sleeve.

AUNT ELISABET : Thou has never had any other home… We had why such great... Answer then something. Dear boy my.

Caligula flashes till. Furious.

CALIGULA : GO!

Aunt Elisabet pinches together the eyes, knots hands over the handkerchief –

AUNT ELISABET: That you CAN, that you only CAN!

Caligula creeps together in the chair. He is furious, afraid, furious ...

CALIGULA : I want none see you. You. Go, go, go.

Now fall the first tears along Aunt Elizabet's pale cheeks.

AUNT ELISABET : You are mean… mean. When you were small, off boy came you cum said: Dear small aunt Elisabet.

She flags down in a chair and buries the face in her hands.

Caligula travels to pitiful, angry, humiliated, irate.

CALIGULA : Matter kind now. Weep not[,] for God's sake.

He stands footed.

CALIGULA : I WILL be for me oneself. I want none take up that there some monkey business with mother and son… It is disgusting, disgusting.

Aunt Elisabet shaking head forward and back, tears runs and she sobs -

AUNT ELISABET : You lived in your small room inside the hall cum each evening got I arrive in on the till you and I got stop of you before you fell asleep. I got still be like… like your mother.

Moved to the rupture limit over her own voice falls she on new in crying -

AUNT ELISABET : Why wants you not come back. I am so alone … You are of course also so alone …

Now happens all very fast. Caligula takes Aunt Elisabet in the arm, drags up her from the chair. She screams till, turns flash-quickly around. But he gets making of her again. Wills up the door and tries to shoo her out.

Aunt Elisabet turns suddenly one another. Cold, resentful -

AUNT ELISABET : Be careful. Be careful.

CALIGULA : Give you away!

AUNT ELISABET : You will get back this here. Be careful.

CALIGULA (laughs): It is good. Then may you go now.

She twists out by the front door, which goes again with a bang. Caligula stands a moment right still. Then steps he around. Sinking gradually together after the tension. Stops before the bookshelf. Takes down a photograph. It represents aunt Elisabet somewhat youthful and a small boy in feminine costume. She leans her head against his.

Caligula's hands breaking some photograph middle deal so that the glass bits dizzy around. Then goes this ruptured some card in the paper basket.

The food hall at Widgrens.

At some dinner table sitter agency director Widgren, Mrs. Widgren cum the little boy Brother and Jan-Erik, who is gloomy, very gloomy. The eat's under silence.

Brother adds down his spoon and licks to about mouth and looks under bangs on Jan-Erik.

BROTHER : Hey Janne. Why look you so faded out?

MOTHER : Brother small, has none mother said hundred times to you not may wiggle on one chair.

BROTHER : Janne looks equally faded out still so.

Jan-Erik looks not up from the soup –

JAN - ERIK : It should you give seventeen in.

THE MOTHER (mildly reproachfully): Should you say so when Brother wants last friendly.

JAN - ERIK : Small guys would keep the quack when judgment cribs.

Silence lowers to again over the congregation. So looks the bureau director up from his plate, dries himself about the mouth cum speaks -

THE FATHER : How has he gone to school today?

Jan-Erik looks not there -

JAN - ERIK (nonchalant): Good, suppose I.

THE FATHER : Is it true that[?]

It becomes silent one moment. Jan-Erik gives the father one fast glance –

JAN - ERIK : No.

The mother anticipates immediately that something terrible has occurred. She constructs a compassionate, slightly complaining tone –

THE MOTHER : Has there happened any boring? Say, what is it that has happened.

JAN - ERIK : Has got perch.

THE FATHER : For cheating.

JAN - ERIK : How vet Father it[?]

THE FATHER : Your Latin teacher has rung me. The remark sights have been justified.

Jan-Erik. He lowers some head.

THE MOTHER : Jan-Erik, how can you do us one such sorrow.

JAN - ERIK : It WAS not cheating. I could not myself see that which was there. I wrote there it to the cursive-over-setting, then forgot I erase outward …

THE FATHER : It is terribly uncomfortable, now just before one's matriculation.

The father looks upset out. He has a wrinkle middle of the forehead –

JAN - ERIK : So damn dangerous is it surely not. (despair in the voice).

The father silent a moment –

THE FATHER: It depends on how Man takes it. YOU seem to take it relatively lightly. But mother and I are very sorry. My opinion is that you got a stain on you. [(A tingling.)] Should we trip ourselves[?]

The father lays together his napkin.

The family goes from the table. Jan-Erik goes forward till the window.

Brother comes in in the hall again, where a service-spirit right holds on to lay the table out.

He goes forward till Jan-Erik.

Jan-Erik has badly to keep the lip away. But he masters himself male –

JAN - ERIK : It is well not criminally either.

BROTHER : And not should you become sorry for what the stab talk. That vet you well how he is... you… Sandman is on the phone and wonders if you can go to the cinema.

Jan-Erik and Sandman sit at a café. Sandman smokes greedily. It's evening. Sandman yawns –

SANDMAN : Damn sleepy man is. Man would have that the kill in the film, a comfortable, big cum wide snark - one such there tarpaulin or what that called, on a nice dope.

Sandman smacks. Jan-Erik laughs a little, shakes on the head –

JAN - ERIK : Says thou there.

SANDMAN : Boy! And a smorgasbord and burnt and distilled beverages en masse. And the dope and the snoring.

Jan-Erik considers his companion with a certain admiration –

SANDMAN : Man would not climb up in 14 days. Just slag and crib and crib and slag and use the dope. Feathers in it.

Jan-Erik pours for himself tea. Sandman kindles a new cigarette on the old with a practised hand movement –

JAN - ERIK : You are all one terrific materialist.

SANDMAN : Jäh.

He stretches away himself, yawns yet one time large and voluptuous.

Around Jan-Erik. He sees something beyond Sandman. Is actually something embarrassed –

JAN - ERIK : Nah[,] see you, I see everything in one other way. I intend pen thus much I want and play as much violin I want - when this round some whole sick is over.

Jan-Erik becomes pensive. Drinks from his cup and turns and twists on it –

JAN - ERIK : Later with ladies and such there( )... self thinks only have one and her should I be dear over.

SANDMAN (interested): So you have nothing now then. But that there bean Lena or whatever she named …

JAN - ERIK : Indeed yet I am why none all dear of her. Would …

SANDMAN : Dear! You are not wise. Woman uses man.

JAN - ERIK : Do man. Not me in any fall.

Sandman blows smoke clouds and rings. Staring at the ceiling –

SANDMAN : Nah, for it you should take should be clean and untouched and stuff where. What!

JAN - ERIK (embarrassed, but determined): Yes.

SANDMAN : Those animals are none.

JAN - ERIK : Says thou it.

Sandman teaches. High school student-cross-safe –

SANDMAN : All ladies are hookers. And are they that none so want them becoming that. That says both Nietzsche and Strindberg. Waitress[,] may we pay.

The two boys walk down the street. Then stop they outside a port –

SANDMAN : Comes you cum up.

JAN - ERIK : Nah, are home cum read some Latin misery.

SANDMAN : Caligula is one as.

JAN - ERIK : I vet not. I think most that he is a strange dude.

Sandman takes out their keys and inaugurates. He turns himself round –

SANDMAN : You vet, that man turns on stones finds man nasty animal. Caligula is naught real considerably swine(,)[;] he is a little nasty, toxic insect.

JAN - ERIK : I think not that a human can be just evil.

Sandman kindles the light in the stairs(,)[;] they have badly to divorced –

SANDMAN : You are secondary. Expect boy. Expect should thou will see, how devilish it is, everything. It shocks on clean sophistication. Good night brother.

Sandman handrails forward a hand. Jan-Erik takes the fat of it –

JAN - ERIK : You think well-being I am heavenly silly.

SANDMAN : You drivel. You are the only human man can speak cum. You can none help to thou holding you to ideals and speaks round innocent woman. Cheerio!

JAN - ERIK : Servant.

Sandman disappears at the gate. Jan-Erik turns and drives along the street. He goes strenuous with his hands deep down in the pockets. He looks very thoughtful outward.

One other street.

Jan-Erik goes as before. Suddenly raises he some head cum fixes someone before himself.

Before Jan-Erik on the street walks a girl. She wobbles strongly here and there.

Wobbles more and more. Suddenly goes her on one foot in the street and the other on the sidewalk.

Jan-Erik stays. He considers her steadily.

The girl stays now and supports herself against a house wall. She expels a curious chirping sound. So shuffles her down for knee. Stands unto all four, supporting in against the wall.

Jan-Erik thinks a moment. So goes it forward till the girl. Stir at her –

JAN - ERIK : How is the making?

It is Bertha of the tobacco affair.

She turns some face towards Jan-Erik. It is swollen and she pants –

BERTHA : I feel so in of hell great, so it is not true.

Jan-Erik can not camouflage his surprise –

JAN - ERIK : Mrs. Olsson!

The girl laughs, only answers not.

JAN - ERIK : Can I help you?

BERTHA : Oh, hold the jaw on you.

She returns to the exit's position, tries to travel herself, but sinks back again, unable to move it.

BERTHA (angrily): Stand not there and stare. Come and molest a dame. (furious) Give you away.

Jan-Erik bends to down over her and takes her in the shoulder –

JAN - ERIK : You are not wise. You pass you none yourself.

BERTHA : What says you! Am I not wise. (laughs) Oh, came should thou get some.

She travels the laborious and stands upright. Laughs Jan-Erik right in the face.

Jan-Erik becomes cum even angry. He takes her in the arms and shakes her hard -

JAN - ERIK : Talk not rubbish. Where do you live?

Bertha screams high and whines and grins –

BERTHA : Oh! Let become. Release me. (screams) Ouch!

JAN - ERIK : Cry not so. Where rooms you?

BERTHA (angrily): It should you give the cat in.

JAN - ERIK : Attempt for Jösse name that last sober a minute. There comes a cop there away.

Away distance. Some pair. A policeman comes walking the street down. He wanders gravely. Then he goes past some pair watching it on that, yet continues.

Jan-Erik shakes the girl again. She is "limp" –

JAN - ERIK : Now, where live you?

With even flags her off fully and is close to founder in the street. Jan-Erik gets forward her bag and finds a letter -

JAN - ERIK : Ore-different Street 53, four stairs.

He pulls away with her, half carries, half foals her.

0 notes

thetwelvecaesars · 7 years ago

Note

top 10 pairings?

I am assuming you want Roman History Pairings, yes? (I have a lot of other fandoms too) but since this is a Roman blog, I will give you the following list. Take in mind too, that I wouldn’t ship most of these outside of their time era or historical context. And I don’t know if I can order them or not. I think I will just order them randomly and tell you WHY I ship/love or love/hate them.

Augustus/Livia - I love them because they are so sweet together. I just love that Livia wove Augustus clothing and the two of them wrote letters to one another. I know it’s not a perfect marriage, but it’s pretty close, in my mind. I think Augustus and Livia are a good example and are the Darcy/Elizabeth of History. We all want to find our Livia or Augustus and I know that the person you are looking for exists. Also, I don’t think that Livia killed Augustus. I like what one historian, Antony Everitt suggested- he thought that maybe Livia killed Augustus not because she hated him, but because he was getting old. A kind of sweet mercy killing out of love and that’s the only reason I will ever except. I love these two much, because they were a power couple who respected and loved one another beyond words.

Gaius Caesar/Drusilla Caesar - Somehow, these two always appear on my pairing lists. I reason I like these two is because of how they seemed to genuinely love one another. Both of them were horrible people (yes, I said both) and yet, Gaius in all of the sources I have read, never threatened to kill Drusilla or seemed to want to directly harm her in anyway. He didn’t toss her aside like Agrippina or Livilla. Also, he left HER the whole empire when he fell ill and he fell apart emotionally when she died. Not much is said about Drusilla in the history books, but I think she was possibly a twisted person, given that it their relationship lasted so long. Because Gaius was Gaius and I bet he would have killed her she pushed him too far, but he didn’t. Which means they must have worked things out and understood one another’s feelings well enough for the relationship to be that strong for so long. I know modern historians are in doubt in happened, but I don’t see any reasonable argument to why not. Both of them were clearly messed up and yet, I think they DID love one another. In my head, they are and had the potential to be a twisted power couple.

Gaius Caesar/Caesonia - I know. The one above is my OTP, but I just love how confused Gaius was when it came to Caesonia. I just picture him completely stumped to WHY he likes this woman, but decides to figure it out later. I also love Caesonia as well, because let’s face it. Her husband was not a good person and he loved Drusilla more than her. It must have been hard and I said in a previous post about this paring, She married Gaius Caesar of what seemed to be her own will. She has to be an interesting person. Also, Gaius seemed to care about her in a really twisted way. In my head, I feel Caesonia was his voice of reason and they threatened to kill one anther daily, but deep down they cared for one another.

Gaius Caesar/Marcus A. Lepidus - I kinda love these two more than I want to admit. I think Gaius cared a little about him as Marcus didn’t die until he was part of a conspiracy. I also love how Marcus was wanted by Gaius, Drusilla AND Agrippina the Younger. I just imagine all three of them fighting it out while Marcus looks on with a smirk and hits on Livilla who is sitting quietly in the corner. In my head, Marcus was Gaius’ arm candy that was very well-treated.

Agrippina the Younger/Claudius - I think Agrippina needs a lot more respect and love. I think that she’s a smart person who never did anything worse than any of the emperors. Climbing your way to power is something that has always been done, but why women are more slandered for this than men is down-right sexist. Anyhow, back to the pairing. I think Claudius and Agrippina are a sweet couple. I just imagine Claudius taking care of her after returning from exile. I think Claudius had a kind heart deep down and Agrippina seemed to have cared about her country. If Roman culture had let Agrippina fully rule, I doubt she would have been slandered. I bet she would have been a ruler as impressive as Claudius or even her father, Germanicus. Anyhow, I think Claudius would have been kind-hearted and supported her and she would she loved him dearly in return.

Domitian/Julia Flavia - The Hades and Persephone gone wrong and what inspired the Phantom of the Opera (Not.) But these two are really interesting. Abusive, but interesting. (Like I said, none of these parings aside from Augustus/Livia are good examples or are fit for modern use.) But back to Domitian and Julia Flavia. I love these too so much, it’s sometimes painful. Because they COULD have been a great couple! I ranted about this before, but if Domitian had said: “Yes, Titus, I will marry your daughter,” when he FIRST asked, I feel like these two could have built a meaningful relationship. It’s clear to me that older Domitian was NEVER going to be a good or stable person, but I feel like Flavia would have grown up to be kind. I don’t know why, but I think she was a good person as of all the women in Roman history, all of the roman historians paint her as victim, rather than blaming her for what happened. She’s the one Roman woman left unslandered. Now, if Flavia was a nice person and Domitian had been married to her earlier, she might have made him a little better. I know that one should never TRY to change someone, but Flavia might have been a slightly good influence on him. If I remember right, Flavia DID keep Domitian from executing someone once. Anyhow, this pairing just makes me sad sometimes, because the potential and the tragedy.

Titus Flavius Sabinus III/Julia Flavia - Her second-cousin, if I remember right. But I love these two, because of the historical tragedy of this romance. I honestly feel really bad for Sabinus, because he must have loved her deeply. I can’t imagine what he went through when Domitian changed his mind (again) and decided to take Julia. I just… I feel so bad for Sabinus. T_T

Otho/Nero - Because it’s fun and I see no reason why not! I kinda think of these two as evil masterminds that have WAY too much fun. And in my head, Otho fought Galba for the purple, because he wanted to avenge the one he loved. Yeah, I know, sappy, but I don’t care. I also find it interesting these two had the same manner of death.

Nero loves Agrippina - But clearly not the other way around. I ship this one-sided-made-to-sink-boat because it’s actually in the history books and it’s just too much fun to make Oedipus jokes at Nero’s expense. I can’t believe the senate’s only reason against this pairing was not wanting Agrippina to have more power. That is 100% a bad reason. How about instead, “it’s gross and you shouldn’t sleep with your mom, Nero.”? I would have written that instead if I was a senator. And by the way, I feel really bad for Agrippina.

Otho/Vitellius - Because all of those threats and hate letters are just love letters in disguise, right? I am kind ashamed of this shipping, but I kinda love how much they hated one another and can’t help myself.

Thanks so much for the ask, Anon! I am rather ashamed of my ship list as it’s almost 2018, but it’s history. Anyhow, I had a lot of fun spazzing out about all of them! I love questions like these and those reading, please send me more!!

TTC

#Anonymous #Ancient Rome #OTPs #Agrippina the Younger #Augustus #Livia #Gaius Caesar #Domitian #Julia Flavia

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trinity-blood-translations · 7 years ago

Text

Radio Head - Ch. III (Scary Halloween!!!) Trinity Blood RAM 5

Hi everybody! I wish You a Scary Halloween! Here is the next part of Radio Head in english. (Trintiy Blood - RAM 5 by Sunao Yoshida, Illustration by Thores Shibamoto). (For german please ask me). It fits very well to Halloween since there is a ghost and one of the main characters die. Guess who. ;) Duh! Enjoy! Radio Head - Prologue Radio Head - Chapter I Radio Head - Chapter II

* * *

Chapter III

“What a trouble, Louis… to bring out of land military secrets of our army arbitrarily.”

“Lieu…Lieutenant Claude Garneau …!”

Turning toward the man with the scar on his face and catching sight of the armed men who raised the muzzles of each weapon in the background, the face of Dupree became white like paper. He gasped and opened his thin lips.

“As expected, the pursuer was you, bastard, right Claude….?”

“Lord Lieutnant!”

The man with the scar who has was addressed as Claude turned to the big man who was running over. To be exact it was the man who was yelling at the parent and the child on the deck a just a little while ago.

“The installation of the explosives to the engine section is completed!”

“Thank you for your hard work Sergeant! Well then, contact the airship. Put this monster into the cabin. When it’s done we will withdraw.”

“Roger that.”

“Explosive in the engine section, ... ... hmm, to destroy evidences?”

Page 215

The one who sighed briefly while watching the huge man salute and dart off wasn’t the man with the scar. Until then with his both hands obediently raised ‘Magician’ coughed with the facial expression of a scientist lost in thought.

“It’s a truly bold thing to blow off this ship along with 100 crew members and passengers….Is this prototype thing that much important for France’ army?”

“…..What?”

This time it was the man with the scar who sighted briefly. At the same time he signalized to the vivid subordinates in the background to hold back and turned with sharp gaze to the black haired gentleman who shook his head amazed.

“What the hell do you want to say you bastard? What do you know about it?”

“Actually, I don’t really know anything about it. But only by logically inference from given information…you aren’t pirates or something like this. You are from French army, moreover the gentlemen over there are special forces trained for advanced combat, right? I guess the purpose is to get back this combat vehicle prototype and to capture Dr. Dupree.”

"Magician" answered very polite and defies of the stabbing hostility toward him he showed no fear.

“Incidentally, for the question why do you pretend to pirates: ’Bachelor’s Pride’ is Albion’s ship. Moreover, we are here on the territorial waters of Germanicus. Even if you are about to recover your country's military secret, the France authorities have no right to stop this ship for on-the-spot investigation. Accordingly you disguised as pirates ... … Am I right? “That’s right.”

Page 216

As much more in order to show his admiration ---- scarface, Claude snorted. While walking towards the black haired “Magician”, indeed, he kindly smiled.

“What a pity.[1] I wanted to avoid taking the lives of individual citizens, if it’s possible.”

A heavy gunshot overlapped with a splashing and damp sound ---- at the same time, on the forehead with a small gunshot wound the dead body of “Magician” was crashing down to the floor like a puppet suddenly cut off from the string. His brain together with the blood plasma was clinging on the wall; moreover it flowed then slowly to the floor.

“Yi…yikes! Clau…Claude, you have…!

“It’s like he said, Louis.”

While the face of Dupree – who was about to faint because of the tragedy happened right before his eyes – was reflected in the gloomy / dull eyes[2], scareface added with a melancholic look.

“If our identity becomes public, our country gets serious problems, so we have to solve the problem before that happens.

“……Tsk. “Magician, pointy-headed as ever.”

From the environment of the corpse laying on the floor a red pool of blood was rapidly spreading out. “Puppeteer” looked down on the dead body in pain[3] - the puddle of blood twitched time to time short[4] - and pouted.

Each time, if the story gets interesting he pushes the troublesome things completely to me. And then he himself is watching it from the distance ……….. a truly pleasant personality, what!

Page 217

“By the way, Lieutenant, what should we do with this little brat here?” The young man grumbling with displeasure written on his face felt a hard object pressed against his back. The man who was asking for instructions aimed the muzzle of a shotgun at the heart of “Puppeteer”.

“He seems to be a computer programmer but it looks like he is not armed. Shall we and interrogate him later?” “We take no prisoners.”

The answer of the man with the scar on his face to the other was short. He looked at the young man and at the open container and shook cold his head.

“Get rid of him, sergeant. Do not leave any witnesses.”

“Oh dear....... I knew it would come to this.” - “Puppeteer” muttered together with a sigh, however there was a secret joy in his eyes. It seemed it has come finally to an interesting development. He instantly moved his thin fingers slightly in order to try to bury his threads into the back of that Dummkopf[5]---- but in this moment...

<<Kill...>>

The hoarse voice was faint and weak, but everybody on the scene turned around like a windstorm. From the shadows of the many wooden boxes emerged a wavering ghostlike figure ----- and it wasn’t a man. But a woman wearing a snow-white dress.

Page 218

<<Please…kill….me….kill…Claude…>>

“That’s ….impossible, Francoise! You! You should be dead!

Except “Puppeteer” everyone had the eyes wide open and stared at the woman who was breathing barely moving her pale lips. However, the most shattered among them were the man with the scar on his face, Claude, who was till then calm holding his machine gun, and Dupre who was still pale because of the death of “Magician”.

“This can not be….Francoise, ….you can not be here!”

“What…what is this Louis?! Francoise died in the car surely…how on earth can she be alive?”

Claude yelled at the middle-aged man who was screaming sharply. Literally, his gasped like someone who saw a living dead.

“That’s true. She was supposed to be dead at that time…. brake failure in a curve…how can she be alive again?!

<<Kill…me….kill…Louis….Claude…..>>

The white women got closer and with a tottering movement closer like a marionette, meanwhile the men raised their voice in fear. The violet lips kept on grumbling with a husky voice like a broken gramophone.

<<Ki, kill….me….Claude, please….>>

Page 219

Page 22

„Sta-, stay away….Don’t come closer”

Claude's eyes widened by fear when he saw the women approaching with opened arms as she wanted to embrace a beloved person. He shouted and threw a lot of spittle from his mouth.

“Do-, don’t come any closer! I, I was wrong….therefore, stay away.”

“Sto-, stop it, Claude!”

At the instant, the two men moved exactly at the same time. Claude pulled out his pistol and pointed the muzzle without hesitating; right before that Dupree jumped out – gunshot.

“My wife….”

His glasses cracked, slipped to the floor and broke. However he seemed not to mind it, the middle aged man turned around / looked over his shoulder. While regurgitation of blood from his ruptured heart spilled over from his mouth, he slowly collapsed.

“Please, my wife...”

“—Come here, Madame!“

Before the eyes of Claude who was still keeping his handgun dumbfounded, „Puppeteer” pulled the hand of the woman and yelled.

“Get here, quickly!”

“N-no, don’t let them escape! Shoot them to death!”

As “Pupeteer” heard from the corner the angry voice of the giant sergeant who finally came to his senses, he gave the command to his “fibers”. The sergeant lifted slightly the muzzle of his gun ----- but as he pulled the trigger, his gun was aimed at the man standing next to the certain soldier. His head was turned into a spurt of blood and it was blown away.

Page 221

„Wha…What?!“

„Puppeteer“ rushed out of the hold meanwhile behind them screams full of panic and wrath raised. At the same time, he held the icy white hand; ran up quickly the stairs to the deck then continued running to the ship's side. After all, from the beginning those guys intend to clean up this ship with all his passengers. Otherwise they unlikely would operate that openly so far. In that case let's get out of here quickly ----

“…uhh?”

When he finally reached the long side of the ship, “Puppeteer”’s steps suddenly stopped. Until just a little while ago lifeboats were arranged in a line; now not a single one remained.

“This is strange….where are they gone?”

“….as for the lifeboats: we disposed all of them.”

There was a merciless voice in the background, reminiscent of a hunter pointing the muzzle of his gun on the cornered prey. The noise of approaching military shoes and metallic sound of loading bullets overlapped.

“In an exterminating war it is an established tactic to cut off the retreat of the enemy….well then boy, hand me over that woman.”

Page 222

Claude held his military pistol in his hands and looked back cynically at the young man who grimaced mockingly with his lips. With one hand he still grasped the arm of the woman while he was combing his hairs back which were fallen down on his forehead.

“This is strange! I was sure, that you[6] were chasing us for finish her off…. In any case, she is also the proof of your murder, right? She is just a pitiful victim, who was dragged into your attempt to kill Dr. Dupree pretending a car accident. But even so, you do not intend to kill her here. You, does it mean you like her? I wonder if you have fall in love secretly with the wife of a friend.

“….What?”

The muzzle - which didn’t even make a fine movement till then - was trembling violently by the words of the young man. The facial expression of Claude - which filled out his whole face and till then reminiscent of a sculpture of steel - was now distorted by the strong consternation.

“Are you saying that ... you bastard, what did Louis told to you?”

“Particularly nothing….it was merely a trick questioning. Really? It seems to be the case, that I was right.”

While releasing his threads from his fine shivering fingertips into the air, which were invisible for the eyes, “Puppeteer” made a mischievous smile. At the same time he pointed his chin at the women who was expressionless muttering something continuously.

“Earlier I have heard the discussion between you and the doctor: it sounded a little bit strange, isn't that so? You(?) said: “brake failure in a curve” and that she died at the accident, right? However in the newspaper that I have read was written that the cause of the accident was falling asleep at the wheel. At the end nobody knew about the brake failure. If there were someone who knew it, can be only someone who has manipulated the vehicle..... Lieutenant, you are the one who killed her, am I right?” Page 223

“That’s not true! That was indeed an unfortunate accident!”

Claude roared with a hoarse voice at the young man with a charming smile who was denouncing him. His finger on the trigger trembled violently while he shouted.

“The one I wanted to kill was actually Louis! While he used his position to take Francoise from my hand, and when they got married, he didn’t even pay attention to her….this scum!”

“But unfortunately it wasn’t Dr. Dupree but his wife who was caught up in the accident you arranged.” – as if he would lament the young man shook his head. On the brink of death he didn’t seem to care about his own life, but he licked slightly his lips showing a big interest in the love-and-hatred-drama before his eyes.

“Even though you did not free your lover from an unhappy marriage but you managed accidentally kill her, is it right Lieutenant Garneau?”

“I told you I didn’t kill her! It was just an unfortunate accident... besides isn’t that so that Francoise is here alive?

However his voice was trembling by the strong emotions the muzzle of Claude’s gun captured with reliability the “Puppeteer”. He shook his head with the scar furiously and screamed:

“Come on little brat, give her to me! As long as she is safe I will spare your life!”

“As long as she is safe? Ah, that statement is a bit irrational, isn’t it?”

Page 224

“What? What do you mean by that?”

“As I told you before. Because she is already…dead.” – while “Puppeteer” was speaking he pulled vigorously the sleeve of the woman's coat. Together with a shrill sound her coat was burst open. What underneath the coat Claude was catching sight of made him step back and his scarface distort.

“Wha ... what the hell is this?”

“Indeed, it seems like Dr. Dupree was a genius. ….. He has really been able to resurrect the dead. "

Beneath the dangled coat filled with plenty of coolant, there was a woman's white body prepared with wires, pipes and mechanical parts with unknown purpose sewed on in a complex shape. “Puppeteer” eyed it with a mischievous smile. While he was observing everything accurately, from the sliced left side of her chest, where inside a glass bottle filled with a green liquid her heart was beating, to the back of her neck, where countless electrodes were implanted directly in her broken cervical spine, he spoke with compassion in his voice to the man whom face was looking like he would vomit outright.

“And, Dr. Dupree's love for his wife seems to has been very sincere, no matter what form she has. He wanted at any rate to bring her back to life.... although she seems not to share the opinion of her husband coming back to this world.

"And, Dr. Dupree's love for her seems to be very sincere, no matter what she looks like, he just wanted to give her life back ... ... of course, his wife doesn’t seem like her husband Want to return to their own ah ... ... "

<< Kill me… >>

Her lips violet as a result of the preservative flowing in the blood vessels, she was uttering the same words.

Page 225

In the pupils of her wide open eyes which were starring into the void without a blink the face of Claude distorted by fear was reflecting like in a dark mirror.

<<It‘s cold ...... here ... ... cold ... ... please ... kill ... ... somebody ... kill me ...... >>

“Impossible…”

Claude stood for a moment like petrified by the daze in front of the women who was repeating the same wards to the void again and again, so that he forgot the existence of “Puppeteer” and his had with the gun was trembling violently ----

“Cr!..Craaaap!”

The angry roar like of a beast overlapped with the heavy gunshots. Countless bullets skewered the living dead body. At the same time was the head torn off from the body and a sound of humid slapping onto the wall was to hear.

<< to die ... already ... to die finally ... Lou ... >>

“Francoise....”

The sound of the head rolling on the deck became bit by bit quieter. Claude who looked like he became dozens of years older was staring at it. Finally as the sound was no longer to hear he whispered with a face like of a dead:

“No matter what you say, I loved her. I didn’t want to hand over her to anyone..... especially not to such a person like Louis ... .... if I gave her to him... ... then, ....... I've done the right thing.... ...”

“Wow! What an impressive conviction..... well, whatever you think, everyone is selfish, though, don’t you think?”

Giving the weak man a glance of disgust “Puppeteer” coldly turned away.

Page 226

At the very end he got his fun he wanted but even so it wasn’t enough for him. So he accelerated the pace to leave the scene of the tragedy quickly.

“Wait ... ...didn’t I told you? Bastard you won’t escape!”

Behind the back of the young man who just started to walk away came the sound of lifting the hammer of the gun. As he turned around he saw the face of man became like a demon lifting the muzzle.

„… Do you mistake your enemy with your gun? If you want to blow away something lieutenant, then blow away your own head.

“Yeah, I will do that, right after yours.” – replied the soldier very seriously to the young man who was bored shrugging his shoulders. He declared with a confidence as if he were absolutely sure he is doing the right:

“For Francoise got her peace that way before, I have to protect her honor. Moreover, I can’t let anybody who saw XAM alive anyway.”

“Oh dear...what a big trouble, absolutely.”

Deeply astonished about the selfish opinion of the other party “Puppeteer” scratched his head. It is said that people who poke their nose into another's love affairs are fools. It seemed really stupid thing to interfere.

“It can't be helped. Well then, I will play a little bit. Really, of all people why….uhh?!”

“Lieut… Lieutenant!”

Page 227

From the deck thundering footsteps and hoarse voices made “Puppeteer” stop his Hand. He turned around and saw the aforementioned giant sergeant as he came agitated running over. The “fibers” inside his body should have dissolved completely just a little while ago, but his complexion was pale like that of a corpse. He was followed by several bloodstained soldiers but their even more pale faces were distorted with fear.

“Lieutenant! Te…Terrible! Th…th…th…that thing began to move on its own! The troops of Henry and Jean are annihilated….”

“What are you talking about?”

Claude turned around not even trying to hide his grim expression. Perplexed by the fact that soldiers can lose self-control like this he yelled at his gasping and complaining subordinates:

“Whether or not, report more accurately, sergeant! What is it?”

“It…it’s the XAM!”

“What…?”

The officer with astonishment was still about to get a detailed report but suddenly a thunderous sound from underneath interrupted his words ----- however perhaps it wasn’t necessary any more at all because the object which was breaking through the deck was exactly the thing he wanted to get the report about.

“I..i...i..XAM...why?”

(End of Part III)

[1] Referring to that what he is forced to do now.

[2] I don’t know if it means the eyes of Isaak or Dupree.

[3] 悩ましげ - http://tangorin.com/general/%E6%82%A9%E3%81%BE%E3%81%97%E3%81%92

[4]痙攣 – cramp, spasm

[5] = pinhead (written in German in the Japanese Original)

[6]君(きみ) – in this case (young to an older person or to a superior) it is seen as rude – Dietrich uses 君 to Isaak either

#trinity blood #Sunao Yoshida #Thores Shibamoto #kiyo kyujyo #kiyo qjo #manga #anime #light novel #fandom #Isaak Fernand von Kämpfer #Dietrich von Lohengrin #rco #rosencreutz orden

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astynomi · 7 years ago

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Hi! I'm currently putting together a powerpoint on Tiberius for my Latin class and I was wondering if you could link me to a source for the quote from Tacitus's Annals 1.80 describing Tiberius? (‘talented and intelligent, but paralysed by lack of confidence’) I've looked at various online editions for the Annals (Perseus Digital Library, MIT Classics) but I haven't been able to find anything that resembles it. Thank you very much for your help!

Hello! Delighted to hear my ramblings are helping with an actual class presentation! :D Yes, of course. That description is actually my own paraphrase of what I think was Tacitus’ characterisation of Tiberius. It draws primarily on two passages from the Annals, one of which is the one you mention.

Annals 1.80, from: Goodyear, F.R.D. (1981), The Annals of Tacitus Books 1-6, edited with a commentary. Volume II: Annals 1.55-81 and Annals 2. Cambridge.

prorogatur Poppaeo Sabino provincia Moesia additis Achaia ac Macedonia. id quoque morum Tiberii fuit, continuare imperia ac plerosque ad finem vitae in idem exercitibus aut iurisdictionibus habere. causae variae traduntur: alii taedio novae curae semel placita pro aeternis servavisse; quidam invidia, ne plures fruerentur; sunt qui existent, ut callidum eius ingenium, ita anxium iudicium. neque enim eminentes virtutes sectabatur, et rursum vitia oderat: ex optimis periculum sibi, a pessimis dedecus publicum metuebat. qua haesitatione postremo eo provectus est ut mandaverit quibusdam provincias quos egredi urbe non erat passurus.

Poppaeus Sabinus had his command in the province of Moesia extended, and Achaea and Macedonia added to it. This was another of Tiberius’ practices, to maintain commands and keep many people in the same armies or jurisdiction until the end of their lives. Various causes are reported for this: some thought that he found it tiresome to redo tasks and therefore, once he had approved something, kept it that way permanently; some say that it was out of envy, to avoid numerous people enjoying [the honour]; there are those who think that, for all the brilliance of his mind, he was anxious about making decisions. [Lit. ‘As his mind was brilliant, so his judgement was anxious’.] For he did not pursue outstanding degrees of excellence, while on the other hand he hated vice: from the best men he feared danger to himself, from the worst, public disgrace. This hesitation led him to go so far as to assign provinces to men whom he had no intention of allowing to leave the city.

Annals 3.56, from Fisher, C.D. (1966), Cornelii Taciti Annalium ab Excessu Divi Augusti Libri. Oxford (Scriptorum Classicorum Bibliotheca Oxoniensis.)

This passage is about the succession of Augustus to Tiberius, and Tiberius’ attempt to establish Drusus as his successor (so he would have been the third emperor if he had not died young). I think it’s an important and overlooked passage: people usually focus on Tacitus’ more negative presentation of the succession in Annals 1.3. (It’s worth noting that even in Book 1, Tacitus is not negative towards Tiberius himself in his own voice.) Here Tacitus expresses Augustus’ motivation using indicative verbs, so it’s Tacitus’ own opinion of what happened. It’s the most convincing and balanced account I know; he’s saying that Augustus thought the purpose of the monarchy was to prevent civil strife occurring by multiple nobles fighting for supreme power, and that Augustus thought Tiberius’ character was such that he would not use the position for personal gain. Tacitus grants a lot of space to Tiberius’ argument that Drusus (and, by implication, Tiberius himself at the time) was a suitable heir. Tacitus also points out here that Tiberius treated Germanicus (his adopted heir) and Drusus (his own son) equally, even though elsewhere he reports contemporaries accusing Tiberius of favouring Drusus, and gives the reader a negative impression, as though Tiberius were being unfair to Germanicus, even though in book 1 Tacitus expresses outrage that Tiberius was made to adopt his nephew when he had a son of his own, who would thus be deprived of his position of Tiberius’ direct heir (since Germanicus was slightly older than Drusus).

Tiberius, fama moderationis parta quod ingruentis accusatores represserat, mittit litteras ad senatum quis potestatem tribuniciam Druso petebat. id summi fastigii vocabulum Augustus repperit, ne regis aut dictatoris nomen adsumeret ac tamen appellatione aliqua cetera imperia praemineret. Marcum deinde Agrippam socium eius potestatis, quo defuncto Tiberium Neronem delegit ne successor in incerto foret. sic cohiberi pravas aliorum spes rebatur; simul modestiae Neronis et suae magnitudini fidebat. quo tunc exemplo Tiberius Drusum summae rei admovit, cum incolumi Germanico integrum inter duos iudicium tenuisset. sed principio litterarum veneratus deos ut consilia sua rei publicae prosperarent, modica de moribus adulescentis neque in falsum aucta rettulit. esse illi coniugem et tres liberos eamque aetatem qua ipse quondam a divo Augusto ad capessendum hoc munus vocatus sit. neque nunc propere sed per octo annos capto experimento, compressis seditionibus, compositis bellis, triumphalem et bis consulem noti laboris participem sumi.

Tiberius, having obtained a reputation for moderation because he had put a check on the growing number of accusers, sent a letter to the senate in which he sought the tribunician power for Drusus. This was the phrase that Augustus had come up with for supreme power, to avoid taking the name of king or dictator while having some title that gave him pre-eminence over other forms of command. Then he chose Marcus Agrippa as his colleague in that power, and when Agrippa died, Tiberius (when he was called ‘Nero’), so that there would be no doubt about his successor. He thought that by this move, the twisted hopes of others could be thwarted: he trusted simultaneously in Nero’s modesty and his own greatness. It was by this example that Tiberius moved Drusus to the supreme position, though when Germanicus was alive he had shown no preference between the two of them. But at the start of the letter he prayed to the gods to make his decisions turn out well for the commonwealth, and he added a few moderate words on the young man’s character, without any false exaggeration in his favour. He noted that he had a wife and three children, and was of the same age as he himself had been when called to take up this duty by the divine Augustus. And it was not with undue haste, but with eight years of experience – putting down riots, settling wars – having won a triumph and been consul twice, that he was now being engaged to share in a labour that he already knew well.

Both of those translations are mine so feel free to link to them (and to the original post) if you use them!

#tagamemnon #classicfloralfandom #μαντεία #Classics #Roman history #Tiberius Caesar #Julio-Claudian dynasty #Tacitus #historiography #ὑπομνήματα #love of my life

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mysexycowboy · 5 years ago

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A day’s ride outside Massilia, the coastal plain gives way to high hills covered with forest, and the man galloped without hesitation into the trees. Diogenes, the town grump, had recommended the route to him. “In the forest,” he’d kvetched, “you can remember your name.” It sounded perfect, and strangely congruent with the advice Livia had given him (perhaps given was too intentional a word for that aging matriarch at this point) before he flew the coop. Tiberius was her son; perhaps that made her affectation of incompetence all the more plausible, and the situation all the more tragic for her. But she was dying and even in death the grand stratektrix would never betray what she was thinking. “Go to your namesake,” was all she had said. So he’d hopped a fast ship to Massilia, the kind only his house could buy, and had stayed there somewhat aimlessly for the last two weeks. He supposed that one part of the injunction, given Tiberius’ increasing penchant for house arrests, was to enjoy himself before he no longer could, and so he did. But two weeks of merriment soon wore thin, and he began to think about where he was really headed. His namesake? Which one? Gaul had seemed like a good start; it was Gaius Julius’ most famous command, but there was more to Gaul (especially Julian Gaul) than Narbo and, he supposed, more to himself than Caesar. Two cohorts due for the Fifth Legion had come into the port during his first week there. After a few days contributing both positively and negatively to the economic activity in the town, they had marched north to join their new comrades. It had taken a few more days for the story to click, for Rome's Fifth Legion, nicknamed the Alauda, had once been under the command of his father. It had taken a few additional days to get going, since Diogenes had been so fun. He'd first noticed the Greek at the end of his first week sitting in the town square and they got to talking a few days later. The last forty-eight hours in Massilia had been spent in his company in a corner of the town square, shooting the shit under a shady awning by day and fooling around at night. But now he was seated on a horse with no name purchased hastily at a market outside the city, charging into the forest in search of any sign of their passage. "Just yell at him to go fast," said the stablehand. It took him a mere three days to catch up to the soldiers, careerist and careless in the Pax Augusta. He fell in with them as a traveler and it wasn't until they'd made camp at Trier that somebody recognized him, extrapolated from his time as a four-year-old shadow of his father. The night of his reveal, the Fifth Alauda had a feast. Their little totem was home. He had no intention of staying a soldier, but threw himself into the life of one anyway, sparring with the men and observing their drills, throwing javelin and arrow into targets, and drinking with them at night. Germanicus, like Caesar before him, had been famous for mixing with his soldiers but though the youth had the general's name, he lacked the command that had enabled such free discourse. Perhaps in an earlier, more noble era for the Roman military, the soldiers would not have allowed a callow heir such latitude, but afforded him only the respect he had earned or the respect accorded to unknown superiority. They were home, and had gotten comfortable. It was the fifth night and he was drinking in the tavern tent with two other centuries. "Sodality-house swill," he teased the table about what they were drinking. "For the fifth night in a row. When do we get the good stuff?" There were roars of laughter at that. "That is up to you, dear Caligula. When you distribute our bonuses, we can feast as you deserve!" "Bonuses?" said Caligula, and the quizzical tone of his voice brought a hush down on the tavern. "Bonuses..." slurred the centurion. "Like your father gave before you, like Augustus gave before him, what keeps the soldiers of Rome in their place. We thought the caravan was a few days behind you...understandably slower, what with all the sesterces it's carrying...ha...ha." The veteran stared him down. "But there is no caravan, is there boy?" "No, there is not," Caligula sighed. "Well," drawled the centurion. His eyes slid left, then right to case the conviction of his buddies. "The Fifth Alauda must make its own luck, then. I'm sure there are those in Rome who would be very interested in the safe and unharmed return of an imperial child. For the right price, we can oblige." Caligula was already on his feet. By luck, there was nobody on a stool behind him and he had a clear path to the doorway. Before the other soldiers could close in on him, he'd darted away from the bar and out the door. The stable was just around the corner. He would make it. His eyes swerved wildly as he entered the barn. Any horse would do; he spotted an open stall to his left and dashed over. "Swiftly, swiftly!" he cried, riding out and through the crowd massing at the doorway. One hand clutched at his foot and came away with a sandal. As he galloped back into the courtyard, he searched for attempts to hinder his progress, nascent barriers and caltrops. His speed was good and he might make it out without too much trouble. A legionary near the gate shouted and, casting about in vain for help, toppled a bundle of logs in front of the portal. Desperately, Caligula dug his heels into the side of his horse, who vaulted over a gap between two logs and into freedom. Two minutes into his gallop across the alluvial plain, he heard voices behind him and knew he was being pursued. He broke left toward the forest and the horse obeyed without question. So too would theirs, he thought. Either one of them outran the other, or he'd end it a different way. He chanced a glance behind him. The riders had thinned but were still coming strong, only two of them now. How to trick them? What would he do? All he had was a knife. He searched ahead for a bend in the road, crossed to beyond the sight of his pursuers, and bided his time. The hoofbeats grew louder and Caligula loosely judged the timing. As his pursuers crested the bend, he urged his horse forward. The quarters were close; he was only ten feet past the bend, and the momentum of his horse, obedient and true, bowled one of the riders off his mount. Caligula screamed and dug his heels in. The hooves were placed just right and crushed the legionary's chest. The other rider had swung wide and was closing in. He held his gladius like a lance and Caligula was broadside to him, having arrested in the bloody remains of his opponent. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, and thrust his knife into his horse's neck, where the backbone was. He sawed furiously and the beast's legs went limp as it fell sideways with a scream. Caligula jerked his hips toward his pursuer to set up the fall and then away, slipping off the other side of his horse and away. The point of the gladius jabbed right through where his head had been. "That was stupid," he thought. But the tactic had worked. His horse collapsed into the other, throwing his opponent to the ground. Caligula jumped to his feet, surveying the damage. He would lose his advantage in moments. His second pursuer was on all fours, dazed. Caligula aimed a kick at the crown of his helmet, reasoning that it would stun him further. The legionary fell and Caligula closed the distance to the ground. His first knife thrust went wide, but the second landed in flank and the third scraped a rib and bit deep. His opponent gasped and writhed. Caligula's numb fingers slipped from the knife and he observed in silence the death throes. The world was pinpoint on the pair of them and widened as his stress subsided to admit the delicate whickering of the last horse standing. Caligula looked up and recognized with a shock the horse he'd rode in on, the one you just told to go fast. Something shifted in his belly; the coincidence seemed to justify the horrors of the last hour and Caligula began to laugh, for all that Rome was dead. "We will be good friends, Incitatus," he said softly to his horse, raising the back of his hand for the animal to sniff. "It's just you and me now."

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