#of Leda and the swan fame

[thequietabsolute]

on my walk earlier i had half an hour on a favoured bench in the sunshine and came across two incredibly moving love poems completely new to me. here’s a few lines from each 🌳

———————————————————

Skin looked like this two hundred years ago

… winterlight

In their celestial altitude

The eighteenth-century stars.

… shape-shifting fire’s

Impatient nudity and ours

On the big bed.

… these Muscovian furs

Were linen until fire reshaped

Their transient destiny.

Hands dipped in light-and-shadow cast

Ledas and satyrs on the bedroom wall.

A candleflame’s a silent chatterbox

And cinematic book …

Among the gravestones, yews and cypresses

An Orphic night bird cries ‘Eurydice’ …

Love, touch my heart with who you are

And sleep, history, sleep.

— Love-making by Candlelight; Douglas Dunn. from Northlight. 1988.

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In the hollows of home

I find life, love and ground

And intimate welcome:

With you, and these, I’m bound

To history.

Touching your hair, holding your hand,

Your beauty blends with time and land,

And you are loveliness

In your green, country dress,

So fair this day.

— At Falkland Palace; Douglas Dunn. from Northlight. 1988.

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if you really liked these, i recommend the slim collection Elegies. some of the most breathtakingly beautiful poems you’ll ever read are in there. for a pre-buy sample see, off the top of my head, The Kaleidoscope, Transblucency*, The Butterfly House, and Attics (i’m missing so many good ones here; the whole collection is remarkable, and no one really knows about it: the quintessential hidden gem)

*hideous title i agree; will make you cry though

[punkfistfights]

O, lovely, mournful Muse - will you sing once more? Sing of your sister, beautiful Helene, ward of Tyndareus and Leda, the cause of the war with splendid Ilion. Sing of her grief, her despair, her guilt for the deaths of the Akhaioí and her own tribesmen, the people of Lakedaímōn. But also sing of the joy she received whilst lounging in Ilion, on the arm of her beloved Alexander, far away from the needs of her husband and daughter, her mother and father, her sister and brothers.

Beautiful Helene, born of the King of the Heavens and the vengeful daughter of Night. It is said she was born from the egg of a swan and that when she opened her fiery golden eyes for the first time, they were already aged. She grew up beside the famed Dioskouroi and the murderous Klytemnestra.

Helene, most beloved by the goddess Aphrodite, known for her beauty beyond compare, wife of Menelaos and Alexander both.

Helene, who knew not of her role in a war created by the scheming of her Lord-Father and his second bride, the prophetic lawmaker.

Helene, who only knew a beautiful man with a warm smile who promised her love she had never known before.

Helene, who anguished over her part in the war but knew she could not fight Fate but had known it was Fate for her to love this man, her Alexander, her Paris.

Helene, who knew so little kindness in Ilion, only blessed with it from Priam, who saw her as a daughter, Hektor, who saw her as a sister, and her Alexander, who saw her as a wife.

Helene, who had always had agency in her own life and clung to it ever so tightly, even as the woman around her hated her for what she kept tightly wrapped up in her chest.

[babyrdie]

Tell me something I probably don't know

I'm going to be honest and tell you that I'm not an expert in Greek mythology, let alone in obscure myths. So I'm just going to point out what I see that people don't usually mention, and assume they don't mention it because they haven't seen it.

There is a version of the myth in which Aphrodite was offended by Tyndareus and because of this ruined the marriages of his daughters (i.e. Clytemnestra and Helen).

Scholiast on Euripides, Orestes 249: Steischorus says that while sacrificing to the gods Tyndareus forgot Aphrodite and that the goddess was angry and made his daughters twice and thrice wed and deserters of their husbands . . . And Hesiod also says: "(ll. 1-7) "And laughter-loving Aphrodite felt jealous when she looked on them and cast them into evil report. Then Timandra deserted Echemus and went and came to Phyleus, dear to the deathless gods; and even so Clytaemnestra deserted god-like Agamemnon and lay with Aegisthus and chose a worse mate; and even so Helen dishonoured the couch of golden-haired Menelaus."

There is also a version in which Helena isn't Leda's daughter, but Nemesis'.

[Taken from Pseudo-Apollodorus' Library] But some say that Helen was a daughter of Nemesis and Zeus; for that she, flying from the arms of Zeus, changed herself into a goose, but Zeus in his turn took the likeness of a swan and so enjoyed her; and as the fruit of their loves she laid an egg, and a certain shepherd found it in the groves and brought and gave it to Leda; and she put it in a chest and kept it; and when Helen was hatched in due time, Leda brought her up as her own daughter.

And there are two different sources that present a version of the myth in which Thetis killed her sons before Achilles while trying to make them immortal, and Achilles only didn't die because he was the baby Peleus arrived at in time to stop Thetis. In one version, the babies drowned and in another, they burned.

Scholiast on Apollonius Rhodius, Arg. iv. 816: The author of the Aegimius says in the second book that Thetis used to throw the children she had by Peleus into a cauldron of water, because she wished to learn where they were mortal . . . And that after many had perished Peleus was annoyed, and prevented her from throwing Achilles into the cauldron.

[Taken from Photius' Bibliotheca] Thetis burned in a secret place the children she had by Peleus; six were born; when she had Achilles, Peleus noticed and tore him from the flames with only a burnt ankle-bone and confided him to Chiron.

In one version of the myth, after being transformed into a dog, Hecuba became one of Hecate's dogs.

[Taken from Lycophron's Alexandra] O mother [Hecuba], O unhappy mother! thy fame, too, shall not be unknown, but the maiden daughter of Perseus [Hecate], Triform Brimo, shall make thee her attendant, terrifying with thy baying in the night all mortals who worship not with torches the images of the Zerynthian queen of Strymon, appeasing the goddess of Pherae with sacrifice.

There is a version in which Penelope (yes, the one from the Odyssey) is Pan's mother.

[Taken from Pseudo-Apollodorus' Library] [E.7.38] But some say that Penelope was seduced by Antinous and sent away by Ulysses to her father Icarius, and that when she came to Mantinea in Arcadia she bore Pan to Hermes.

Although the Byzantine Tzetzes argues that it's another Penelope.

And Duris in his work about Agathokles says that Penelope was gluttonous and had intercourse with all the suitors and gave birth to the goat-legged Pan, whom they consider a god (FHG II 479 42). He speaks nonsense about Pan; for Pan is the son of Hermes and another Penelope. And another Pan is the son of Zeus and Hybris.

Furthermore, Patroclus isn't mentioned in the Pelion in any Greek source I have read so far (but he's mentioned in Roman sources). And Ajax only appears briefly mentioned in one Greek source, which is Heroica by Philostratus, known for purposely showing different versions of the more traditional myth. Also, people cry at the idea of ​​Patroclus and Achilles being cousins ​​(why I don't know, cousins ​​being romantically related in Ancient Greece isn't shocking), but there is even a version in which Achilles is his uncle (because one of the possible mothers of Patroclus is Polymele, daughter of Peleus).

[tylermileslockett]

Theseus series #10 (The Abduction of Young Helen) Illustrated by me

With Theseus’ strength and greatness having spread throughout Greece, Pirithous, demigod king of the Lapiths, tests Theseus by stealing a herd of his cattle. But when Theseus rides him down, Pirithous courageously turns to meet him, and the two, respecting the others beauty and bravery, unite in friendship. Later, Theseus attends Pirithous’ wedding with his wife, Hippodamia, where the centaurs become drunk, and the violent battle of the Centauromachy takes place.

Another episode has Theseus and Pirithous both vowing to wed Daughters of Zeus. First, they journey to Sparta, abducting the child Demi-god Helen, as she danced in the Spartan Temple of Artemis Orthia. Narrowly escaping the Spartan warriors in pursuit, Theseus later gives Helen to his mother for safekeeping until she comes of age.

According to Homer, Pirithous was born from Zeus (in the form of a stallion), mating with Dia. While others place Pirithous as the son of King Ixion. Pirithous and Hippodamia give birth to a son, Polypoetes, who, having been one of the suitors of Helen, later became a famous hero of the trojan war. He led forty ships, and was even one of the warriors to hide in the trojan horse. Helen and her siblings have a bizarre and fascinating origin story. Helen’s mother was Leda, a beautiful Spartan queen. Zeus, lusting for her, transformed into a swan and flew into her embrace escaping an eagle, and the pair coupled. Leda also slept with her mortal husband, King Tyndareus, and later, born from two eggs were Helen and Clytmnestra (wife of Agamemnon of Sparta) and twin boys; Castor and Pollux.

Sparta was a military centric city state famed for its army, and freedoms for its women, and was constantly at war with Athens. The Temple of Artemis Orthia was religious site for Spartan boys and girls. Orthia was originally a local goddess of fertility, nature, and vegetation. Later this goddess was combined with Artemis to create the dual goddess “Artemis Orthia.” Ancient scholars mention a rite-of-passage ceremony where young spartan boys were flogged with whips as they attempted to steal cheese from the altar. Young girls had their initiations as well, with chorus dances and fertility rites. Many votive gifts of masks and figurines were offered and placed in the temple.

Thanks for looking! to see more of my greek illustrations, please click my LINKTREE: https://linktr.ee/tylermileslockett

[classicschronicles]

Hi lovelies,

So earlier I was listening to Hozier’s ‘Talk’ and the following lines have been stuck in my head all day:

“I’d be the voice that urged Orpheus When her body was found I’d be the choiceless hope in grief That drove him underground I’d be the dreadful need in the devotee That made him turn around And I’d be the immediate forgiveness In Eurydice Imagine being loved by me.”

So today’s post is about the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. (Also everyone go listen to Swan Upon Leda it’s so good and he’s back from the dead and it’s so slay). And without any further ado- the story of Orpheus and Eurydice.

Orpheus was known as the most talented musician of ancient times. There is some argument over his genealogy, with some claiming Apollo was his fathers and some claiming that the King of Thrace was his father. However, it is widely agreed that he was the son of a Muse (most probably Calliope, the patron of epic poetry). Orpheus had a divinely gifted voice that could charm everyone who heard him. When Apollo gifted him his first lyre as a young boy, he mastered it instantly. According to popular myth, it was said that Orpheus’ singing and playing were so beautiful that animals, trees and even rocks would dance at the sound of his music, and move to be closer to his sound.

According to some ancient texts, Orpheus taught agriculture, writing and medicine. He was believed to have joined the Argonautic expedition. He saved them from the deadly music of the Sirens by playing his own, and much more potent, music.

Orpheus would spend much of his early years in the idyllic pursuit of music and poetry. He had skills that no amount of fame or respect could match. By his late youth, he would have huge audiences that would travel from near and far to come and listen to his music. It was at one such gathering (I guess concert?) that his eyes chanced upon a wood nymph. The nymph was called Eurydice, she was beautiful and shy and she’d been drawn to Oedipus by his voice. Something beautiful pulled at the heart of the two and they fell utterly in love with each other. Their wedding day was blessed by the god of marriage, Hymenaios, and a great feast followed. The surroundings were filled with laughter and joy

However, nothing good thing lasts forever. There was one man (Aristaeus) who had always despised Orpheus and wished for Eurydice to be his own. Aristaeus plotted a plan to capture the beautiful nymph. He waited in a bush for the couple to pass, intending to ambush and kill Orpheus. But as soon as Orpheus saw the shepherd he grabbed Eurydice and ran. Eurydice, however, fell into a nest of snake eggs and was bitten by a deadly viper.

After the death of Eurydice, Orpheus was no longer able to take pleasure in anything that excited him. His life without Eurydice was bleak and he could no little other than grieve for her. Amid his sorrow he conceived a plan, to travel to the underworld and bring his wife back with him (“I’d be the voice that urged Orpheus when her body was found. I’d be the choiceless hope in grief that drove him underground.”).

Orpheus descended to the underworld, armed with his lyre, voice and weapons. Orpheus approached Charon and demanded entry into the underworld, and such was the sound of his voice, that no one challenged him. Standing in front of the lords of the Underworld, Orpheus states his purpose, his voice both beautiful and alarming. He played his lyre, singing to both Persephone and Hades, and begged that Eurydice be returned to him.

It is said, that his voice was full of hurt that Hades openly wept and Persephone’s heart melted. Even Cerberus began to howl in despair. The voice of Orpheus was so moving that Hades promised him that on his journey back to the world of the living, Eurydice would follow him. However, he warned Orpheus that he was absolutely not allowed to turn around to look for his wife in the dark, for then she would fall behind and he would never see her again.

With faith in his heart and joy once more returning to his song, Orpheus began his katabasis (the act of a living man travelling and returning from the Underworld). As Orpheus neared the exit of the underworld, he heard the footsteps of Eurydice behind him, and despite the urge to turn and look for her, he calmed his racing heart. He waited until he took his first step out of the Underworld to turn around a look at her, but the glimpse he caught was short, and she fell back into the darkness.

You see, when he turned his head to look, Eurydice was still in the dark and had not seen sunlight. With waves of anguish, he approached the Underworld again, but this time he was denied entry, the gates remaining firmly shut. Guys also I’m like a terrible person for saying this, but if he was so unsure that she was behind him why didn’t he just ‘Marco/ Polo’ her.

Anyways I hope you all enjoyed that heartbreaking story to help finish off your weekend! If you haven’t already, I would recommend listening to Hozier’s ‘Talk’ (I’ll link it here). Enjoy what’s left of your weekend!

~Z

[venusinmyrrh]

hi if u also send me a list of titles i will write blurbs for fics of my own stories as a creative exercise. maybe some will be fanfiction but starring OCs too

the first place you learn to run from

how could anything bad ever happen to you?

i have tried, in my way, to be free

all the stars make their wishes on her eyes

god is gonna have to kill me twice

we make up for so much time (a little too late)

in the name of the father, the skeptic, and the son

the swan upon leda

you’re part of a machine (you are not a human being)

i was right to wish

now heaven has denied us its kingdom

last words of a shooting star

somehow, heartbreak feels good in a place like this

i’ll see you next tuesday

you name the drama and i’ll play the part

death will not do us part (you stupid cunt)

the trapdoor to heaven

my brother went down to the river and put dirt on

in defense of lightning

he dances on the edge of adhesion

i have begun to long for you (i who have no greed)

speak of her over my grave

it’s cool to be cold

praise the rain (it brings more rain)

god's voice practicing a descending scale

fighting him, he lights a lamp inviting him

unencumbered by beauty's cage

like separating salt from water

i suffer from the terrible clarity of my vision

words are only glass on a string

take the glory any day over the fame

of course i forgive, you’ve seen how i live

ask the moon what it has witnessed

away, i’m bound away, across the wide missouri

moons and junes and ferris wheels

even cowgirls get the blues

[its-suanneschafer-author]

BOOK REVIEW: Clytemnestra by Costanza Casati

Clytemnestra is a princess of Sparta; her parents are Tyndareus and Leda (of Leda and the Swan fame). The royal family includes Helen (of Helen of Troy fame), supposedly beget from the rape of Leda by Zeus in the guise of a swan, and several other children. In Sparta, women are taught to be warriors, and Clytemnestra, seeking the approval of her parents, becomes a great fighter. She overcomes the…

[a-d-nox]

zeus, god of the sky (asteroids 5731 & h42)

WE MADE IT - 50 GODS, GODDESSES, AND LEGENDS HAVE BEEN POSTED!! the celebration doesn’t end here! the next post will be up in a few hours regarding aphrodite - her sign, degree, house, and aspects in your natal chart! so definitely stay tuned for my biggest post yet to come ;)!

“when talking about such a popular god or goddess i am going to for warn paraphrasing - of course all these stories have more details and all these popular gods have stories within stories. i would love to share them all/in detail but i would need a book and a lot more time to write it. my attempt in writing these posts are to inform you on the high level story of the god’s or goddess’s life. that being said if any one of the events regaled in the post pique you interest - please let me know i don’t mind giving a more in-depth tale of any of the events mentioned.”

now for the god who has been mentioned in 10/49 of my prior posts: zeus.

Zeus is the son of the titans Cronus and Rhea. As we know, Cronus had just usurped his father, Uranus, and had received the prophecy that he would be dethroned by his child. So in turn, when each of his children was born, he devoured them. Rhea was determined to save her sixth child (Zeus) after witnessing the first five get eaten (get mothering - took five cases of cannibalism smh). Rhea brought young Zeus to her mother, Gaea, who hid him while Rhea returned to Cronus with a swaddled stone in which he promptly swallowed. Zeus had a goat named Amalthea (yes, the goat (some stories have her as a nymph) from Abundantia’s story - I am sure that there is some sort of psychological insight to gain from that lol) who he received milk from (yea... definitely some thing for Freud to examine here) while warriors were made to dance and fight one another in the cave he was hidden in to conceal Zeus's infant cries (dang talk about attachment disorders and the inspiration for the little albert experiment). When he was finally old enough, he confronted Cronus and manipulated him into drinking poison that caused his siblings to be vomited up. With his sibling, he then planned a war to take down the titans - Titanomachy. With the help of his siblings and two titans (Prometheus and Epimetheus) a strategy was born - which resulted in the Cyclopes and Hecatonchires (the hundred handed primordial) being released from the forges in Tartarus. The Greek poet Hesiod believed that the Cyclopes are the ones who forged Zeus's lightening bolt as a thanks for their freedom. With the newly freed on their side, Zeus and his campaign were able to banish the titans to Tartarus and began the new era of gods and goddesses. Hecatonchires is said to be keeping watch over the titans as his form of thanks to Zeus for freedom. Gaea was irate by the capture of her children so she had another child with Tartarus - Typhoeus - who was also easily defeated. Gaea attempted to take Zeus down with giants as well but to no avail. As we know, his marriage to Hera isn't an easy one - early on she, Poseidon, Apollo, and Athena (namely) chained Zeus in his sleep and stole his bolt. It was Thetis and Briars who helped free him and get his bolt back - when freed, he used intimidation to make every god submit to his rulership and have them swear to never challenge him again. Poseidon and Apollo were sentenced to build walls in Troy (mentioned in Apollo's post), Athena got off easy because she was Zeus's favorite, but Hera suffered the most as she was sent to the void to be suspended in the sky with anvils hanging from her ankles, forced to stare into the gaze of Chaos until she swore allegiance to Zeus again. It is thought that perhaps this occurrence was the reason why he never truly trusted Hera again (and why he had so many affairs). Some of his most famed lovers include: Io (the cow myth - that was talked about in my Juno post), Europa (gave birth to Minos, you know the king from the Minotaur myth?), Leda (Zeus turns into a swan in this one), Danae (mother of Perseus - Medusa slayer), and Semele (Dionysus's mother). IN MY OPINION Zeus in a chart represents a) where you start from snatch, b) your relationship with siblings, c) where you save your family, d) where you experience trust issues, e) where you topple those in charge, f) romantic affairs, and/or g) where you are the ultimate ruler.

i encourage you to look into the aspects of zeus along with the sign, degree, and house placement. for the more advanced astrologers, take a look at the persona chart of zeus AND/OR add the other characters involved to see how they support or impede zeus!

OTHER RELATED ASTEROIDS/PLANETS: amalthea (113), athene (881), pallas (2), URANUS, poseidon (4341), hera (103), gaea (1184), rhea (577), semele (86), io (85), apollo (1862), chaos (19521), kronos (43), hepimetheus (1810), prometheus (1809), thetis (17), europa (52), leda (38), and danae (61)!

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my “suggest a post topic” button if you want to see a specific post or mythical asteroid next!

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[morganbritton132]

I'm kind of really into this idea of Abigail literally not knowing how to rebel without guidance from a parental figure. I almost wrote a scene of her smashing some of Freddie's dishes.

Well, no broken dishes in this one but there is some broken glass. I honestly don’t think this really goes with your prompt but I think I’m just so fascinated by the idea of Abigail and Frederick interacting with each other. I’ve always felt like Hannibal didn’t like Freddie but he could respect her ambition, whereas he hates everything about Frederick, and I wonder how much of that would seep into Abigail’s perspective of him. And they both have these visible scars of the trauma Hannibal caused. It’s just interesting. 

-----------

“It’s the most obvious solution.”

The way that Freddie punctuates the end of her sentence by sitting her mug down was deafeningly loud in the small kitchen. It shattered the pretending of a good morning and Frederick jolted like it was a gun going off, but Abigail didn’t move.

She watched and she tightened her hands around her cup of orange juice so tight that she wished it would shatter, but it didn’t. She curled her fingers in and scraped the thin-scarred cuts on her fingertips against the bumpy cartoon character on the side of the glass until they bled, and she thought about throwing it.

She wondered what they would do if she shattered the whole kitchen, but she didn’t do anything. They’d just forgive her.

Neither her nor Frederick offered Freddie a response.

Frederick had been gone for a whole week after Abigail cut all her hair off and dyed it blonde and she thought that maybe Freddie came to her senses about him, but then he showed back up three days ago. He had stiffly sat his cane by the door and tore off his tie, and then he didn’t leave Freddie’s room until about ten minutes ago.

He was unwashed, unshaven, unkempt, wearing a wrinkled Rolling Stones t-shirt that probably belonged to Freddie. His makeup was perfect, but he wasn’t wearing contacts, didn’t fix his hair. He had his own coffee mug tight in his hands, but it was full of saltwater.

Every time he swished the liquid in his mouth and spat it back into the cup, the water came back redder and redder.

Freddie cleared her throat and picked up her coffee mug again just to sit it back down, “I’m glad that we can all agree on this, so it’s settled. Abigail, you can drive Frederick around on his errands today.”

“Freddie,” Frederick finally said, sounding brittle. Abigail turned her head slightly to see what broken exhaustion looked like on a broken face. His voice still slurred even though his words were picked carefully, “Can we – speak. Alone.”

“No, we cannot, Frederick,” Freddie said primly. “I have things to do today. I need a new article up on my website by tomorrow so unless you want to give me that exclusive, Abigail is going to drive you. You cannot legally drive, and she just got her license. It’ll be good practice.”

Frederick stared at her and Freddie stared back, and there was some unspoken conversation playing out that Abigail wasn���t interested in. It was always the same argument.

Freddie wanted Abigail to have some normal girl experiences and Frederick wanted nothing to do with her because he thought that she wanted to kill him which was. Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“Do not crash my car,” Frederick said when they were inside of it. He put on dark sunglasses once they were on the road, covering up his cataracted eye like it wasn’t there at all.

A sinking feeling invaded her gut and she ended up pulling up the collar of her shirt to hide the scars on her neck. No need to draw attention to the freaks in the clown car.

The car stayed quiet save for Frederick’s directions until he spoke up, saying to the windshield, “People thought that I killed you, that I – that I ate you.”  

Miriam may have been Hannibal’s patient and she may have been at the safehouse longer, but she was a ploy in a trap. She did the treatments, listened to the tapes, and she played her part the way that Hannibal liked, but she wasn’t his daughter.

Life was a chessboard and Abigail was aware that she was a pawn in a bigger game, but she was important. She was special. She got to sit on the couch and listen to classical music as Hannibal planned beautiful things, planned awful, wonderful things.

They planned her murder together.

She thought about telling Frederick how Hannibal planned to take him once, to add him to his collection of dolls inside of his playhouse just to see how he broke. Beverly Katz had stayed strong to the end, but Frederick Chilton was a house of cards in the wind and he talked too much.

He became a problem and it was easier to frame him, to prepare Miriam and confuse her.

So, Frederick was gone. So, Miriam was free.

So, it was just her there and they planned out European adventures. So, they were going to be happy, be a family. So, Frederick should be dead like they planned, and she was – she was pissed that he wasn’t.

Hannibal wouldn’t have left her if he had just died like he was supposed to.

“I’d kill you before I let you kill me,” She said, looking out the window. Frederick choked on an exhale and she thought about crashing the car just to see what would happen.

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

The word CANNIBAL was spray painted across the front door of Frederick’s big white house, stark red like blood on a canvas, and Abigail felt – she remembered this feeling, remembered seeing the same thing written across her garage door. It was a small feeling, a sinking into the gut feeling.

Frederick sighed.

He got out of the car and hobbled up the stairs, and Abigail followed him passed the trampled over flowers, the broken eggshells, the flowerpots that were shattered to pieces. His hand shook when he unlocked the door, ducking under the yellow crime scene tape, and she followed him.

She’d helped plan this.

The bodies and the blood were gone but the evidence markers were still there. The crime scene tape was still there. The shambles of a life destroyed, and Frederick’s voice cracked when he told her, “Wait here.”

She didn’t.

As soon as he was out of sight, she moved further into the house. She scanned the titles of books that have never been open, and flowers that were dead, and she took step after step down the stairs that had to lead to the wine cellar.

She walked towards the door, imagining that she could hear Abel dying inside, that if she opened the door than Hannibal would be there and he would smile at her, and say, Hello, Abigail. But she stopped.

Leaning against the wall, Leda and the Swan.

Hannibal had the same painting in his dining room. Hannibal had this painting and Chilton had to have seen it before and that – there’s something in that that makes her so angry.

She grabbed the painting in its big glass frame, and she held it, and she was not giving it back. He doesn’t deserve it. He’s not Hannibal. He’s – he’s – Frederick Chilton was a fraud.

He lied. He dressed Abel Gideon up like the Chesapeake Ripper because he wanted to be famous, popular. He – he couldn’t even die right.

Frederick wanted Will Graham and did not get him. He wanted fame and he got infamous. He wanted the respect and the notoriety that Hannibal had, and he didn’t deserve it. He was the same cheap veneer that Freddie used when she pretended that she didn’t live inside of a cracker box, that she wasn’t struggling to pay her bills each month.

Frederick Chilton couldn’t even die right.

Abigail doesn’t know where she’s going until she ends up in the kitchen and she doesn’t know what she’s doing until she shatters the glass on the painting, until she’s digging her fingernails into the glass to destroy the print underneath. She doesn’t know she’s crying until there is a hand on hers, pulling roughly.

“Stop it.” It was said like it had been repeated over and over. The band of the ring on Frederick’s fingers was so cold that it burnt, and his touch was not gentle, yanking her away from the destroyed painting, “Stop it. You’re hurting yourself.”

“I don’t care,” She said, ripping her hand from his. There was glass in her fingertips, blood dripping onto the floor, but it didn’t matter. What was more blood to another place that Hannibal abandoned? “Why did he leave me behind?”

“He – it feels rebellious to hurt yourself,” Frederick said instead. He was taking breaths like he was swallowing blood, shaking. She remembered what Hannibal said about him and medical school. Fraud. Failure. “It feels good to make yourself hurt because he hurt you. Out of spite or adoration, it does not matter. He does not care.”

“He didn’t hurt me.” He does care. He will come back.

“Look at you,” His voice was almost cold. It was a broke thing stitched back together by doctors and oral therapy. Hannibal was an open wound inside of Frederick Chilton and Abigail was going to make him dig into it. “He cut off your ear. He left you for dead. Look at what you’re doing. Just because you’re grateful that it wasn’t worse, does not make it right.”

“I loved this house, and…” He trailed off, taking a breath. “I was evicted once. When I was a kid, my father passed away unexpectantly and we lost the house. I vowed to myself that I would never be in a position where I did not have a home to return to, and – he took that from me.”

“I lost my license, my practice. My reputation is destroyed,” Frederick took a shaky breath and he sounds angry. Abigail watched him. “My mouth isn’t healing correctly. There’s an infection and I may lose my eye. Hannibal Lecter is a gift that keeps giving. That’s why you’re doing this. You’re hurt and the man that kidnapped you and brainwashed you tells you that the only way to stop the hurt is by making it worse. Stop it.”

Abigail stared at him, and she wipes at her face. Her hand comes away wet, still seeping blood, and she almost tells him that her parents never let her color her hair. She almost tells him that she doesn’t know how to stop.

If it’s not her than it will be him, or Freddie, or some plain girl with brown hair because that was what she wanted. She wanted to kill Abigail Hobbs.

She doesn’t want to have this settlement inside of her. She doesn’t want to build up a new person on a foundation that was built on the knowledge that the kindest thing Hannibal could do was never come back.  

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“You don’t have to,” He told her. “But you need to stop this.”

[thesquireofcheddar]

Prothalamion BY EDMUND SPENSER CALM was the day, and through the trembling air Sweet breathing Zephyrus did softly play, A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titan's beams, which then did glister fair; When I whose sullen care, Through discontent of my long fruitless stay In prince's court, and expectation vain Of idle hopes, which still do fly away Like empty shadows, did afflict my brain, Walked forth to ease my pain Along the shore of silver streaming Thames, Whose rutty bank, the which his river hems, Was painted all with variable flowers, And all the meads adorned with dainty gems, Fit to deck maidens' bowers, And crown their paramours, Against the bridal day, which is not long:      Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

There, in a meadow, by the river's side, A flock of nymphs I chanced to espy, All lovely daughters of the flood thereby, With goodly greenish locks, all loose untied, As each had been a bride; And each one had a little wicker basket, Made of fine twigs, entrailed curiously, In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket, And with fine fingers cropt full featously The tender stalks on high. Of every sort, which in that meadow grew, They gathered some; the violet pallid blue, The little daisy, that at evening closes, The virgin lily, and the primrose true, With store of vermeil roses, To deck their bridegrooms' posies Against the bridal day, which was not long:      Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

With that, I saw two swans of goodly hue Come softly swimming down along the Lee; Two fairer birds I yet did never see. The snow which doth the top of Pindus strew, Did never whiter shew, Nor Jove himself, when he a swan would be For love of Leda, whiter did appear: Yet Leda was they say as white as he, Yet not so white as these, nor nothing near. So purely white they were, That even the gentle stream, the which them bare, Seemed foul to them, and bade his billows spare To wet their silken feathers, lest they might Soil their fair plumes with water not so fair, And mar their beauties bright, That shone as heaven's light, Against their bridal day, which was not long:      Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

Eftsoons the nymphs, which now had flowers their fill, Ran all in haste, to see that silver brood, As they came floating on the crystal flood. Whom when they saw, they stood amazed still, Their wondering eyes to fill. Them seemed they never saw a sight so fair, Of fowls so lovely, that they sure did deem Them heavenly born, or to be that same pair Which through the sky draw Venus' silver team; For sure they did not seem To be begot of any earthly seed, But rather angels, or of angels' breed: Yet were they bred of Somers-heat they say, In sweetest season, when each flower and weed The earth did fresh array, So fresh they seemed as day, Even as their bridal day, which was not long:      Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

Then forth they all out of their baskets drew Great store of flowers, the honour of the field, That to the sense did fragrant odours yield, All which upon those goodly birds they threw, And all the waves did strew, That like old Peneus' waters they did seem, When down along by pleasant Tempe's shore, Scattered with flowers, through Thessaly they stream, That they appear through lilies' plenteous store, Like a bride's chamber floor. Two of those nymphs meanwhile, two garlands bound, Of freshest flowers which in that mead they found, The which presenting all in trim array, Their snowy foreheads therewithal they crowned, Whilst one did sing this lay, Prepared against that day, Against their bridal day, which was not long:      Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

'Ye gentle birds, the world's fair ornament, And heaven's glory, whom this happy hour Doth lead unto your lovers' blissful bower, Joy may you have and gentle heart's content Of your love's complement: And let fair Venus, that is queen of love, With her heart-quelling son upon you smile, Whose smile, they say, hath virtue to remove All love's dislike, and friendship's faulty guile For ever to assoil. Let endless peace your steadfast hearts accord, And blessed plenty wait upon your board, And let your bed with pleasures chaste abound, That fruitful issue may to you afford, Which may your foes confound, And make your joys redound Upon your bridal day, which is not long:      Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.'

So ended she; and all the rest around To her redoubled that her undersong, Which said their bridal day should not be long. And gentle echo from the neighbour ground Their accents did resound. So forth those joyous birds did pass along, Adown the Lee, that to them murmured low, As he would speak, but that he lacked a tongue, Yet did by signs his glad affection show, Making his stream run slow. And all the fowl which in his flood did dwell Gan flock about these twain, that did excel The rest so far as Cynthia doth shend The lesser stars. So they, enranged well, Did on those two attend, And their best service lend, Against their wedding day, which was not long:      Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

At length they all to merry London came, To merry London, my most kindly nurse, That to me gave this life's first native source; Though from another place I take my name, An house of ancient fame. There when they came, whereas those bricky towers, The which on Thames' broad aged back do ride, Where now the studious lawyers have their bowers There whilom wont the Templar Knights to bide, Till they decayed through pride: Next whereunto there stands a stately place, Where oft I gained gifts and goodly grace Of that great lord, which therein wont to dwell, Whose want too well now feels my friendless case. But ah, here fits not well Old woes but joys to tell Against the bridal day, which is not long:      Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

Yet therein now doth lodge a noble peer, Great England's glory, and the world's wide wonder, Whose dreadful name late through all Spain did thunder, And Hercules' two pillars standing near Did make to quake and fear: Fair branch of honour, flower of chivalry, That fillest England with thy triumph's fame, Joy have thou of thy noble victory, And endless happiness of thine own name That promiseth the same: That through thy prowess and victorious arms, Thy country may be freed from foreign harms; And great Elisa's glorious name may ring Through all the world, filled with thy wide alarms, Which some brave Muse may sing To ages following, Upon the bridal day, which is not long:      Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

From those high towers this noble lord issuing, Like radiant Hesper when his golden hair In th'Ocean billows he hath bathed fair, Descended to the river's open viewing, With a great train ensuing. Above the rest were goodly to be seen Two gentle knights of lovely face and feature Beseeming well the bower of any queen, With gifts of wit and ornaments of nature, Fit for so goodly stature; That like the twins of Jove they seemed in sight, Which deck the baldric of the heavens bright. They two forth pacing to the river's side, Received those two fair birds, their love's delight; Which, at th' appointed tide, Each one did make his bride Against their bridal day, which is not long:      Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

[snaccademia]

I'm not love's acrobat to leap from bed To bed. Believe me, you'll be mine always: With you may heaven let me pass my days Through the span granted by the Sister's thread, And die with you there weeping. Offer me Yourself, a hapy subject for my verse: My verse will issue worthy of its source. So many owe their fame to poetry - Poor Io whom her cow's horns terrified, Leda duped by the swan's adultery, Europa whom the false bull bore to sea, Horns held in virgin hands on either side. We to shall live in verse the whole world through,  And my name shall ever be linked with you.

Ovid, Amores I.3

[nataliesewell]

monster prom pop quiz results

I was bored, so I decided to try and record all the questions and answers in Monster Prom’s Stupidest Pop Quiz Ever(tm). It’s really likely I haven’t found them all, so I’ll come back and add to this from time to time.

The pop quiz consists of three questions; the first two go towards determining your highest stats at the beginning of the game, while the third chooses your possible prom date (this isn’t set in stone; you can still try to pursue a different character in the actual game). The order of the questions is randomized.

Other links: Vera Walkthrough

You can find the questions and their results under the cut!

stat questions

What is your spirit emoji?

a. Caucasian guy with a turban because fuck stereotypes. +CREATIVITY

b. Octopus emoji. Best animal on Earth. I know 5 mixed drinks, 3 drug cocktails, and 17 sex positions that involve one or several octupi. +FUN

c. Snowman, because that motherfucker is in the middle of a blizzard and he’s fuckin’ smiling. He doesn’t give a fuck about blizzards. And he has a kickass hat. +BOLD

It’s your chance to fix global warming. Go ahead!

a. Global warming isn’t real. I invented it, and now science is claiming authorship because science is a lame copycat with no original ideas. +CREATIVITY

b. Nah, the world is doomed. But I’ll start investing in ships and start a profitable business for the “soon to be covered by water” world. +WEALTH

c. It’s time to be a real hero: I’ll lead a mission to the sun in order to... invite the sun to the party of its life! We’ll have so many hilarious misadventures that the sun will eventually become... cooler. ;) +FUN

Be a visionary: what will the next big social media craze be?

a. Bull$hit: it’s Facebook, but each time someone shares news that isn’t supported by real facts, they’re taxed, and the money goes to the people exposed to that bullshit. +WEALTH

b. Greek Agoras: like literal Greek agoras re-instated in our cities. Places where philosophy and arts are discussed by the greater minds. That’s the social media I want to log into! +SMARTS

c. Rbert: from now on, a socially awkward guy named Robert will do everything he’s commanded to do through the app by its users! +CHARM

You wish you were raised by...

a. A mysterious old man who saved me from the streets in order to raise me as his disciple in the ancient ways of rad DJing! +FUN

b. A pack of wild wolves... who also happens to be tech moguls who own some of the most profitable companies of Silicon Valley. They would be kick-ass role models AND wild wolves! Sick! +WEALTH

c. A really progressive marriage between a kick-ass venomous snake and... actual fire. I love fire and I see no issue with being raised by it. +BOLD

You build a 100ft statue commemorating an event so that in 1000 years archaeologists can learn something about the people of our time. What does the statue represent?

a. That glorious instant when your friend stopped you from texting embarrassing stuff to your ex while hella drunk. +FUN

b. That mind-blowing twist in your favourite TV show that clearly changed the life of everyone forever, unlike all that boring stuff they show on the news. +CREATIVITY

c. Your least favourite political figure... being devoured by rabid rhinoceri... which are also covered in badass tattoos. +BOLD

Which is the coolest mythological creature?

a. The invisible hand of the free market. +WEALTH

b. A sphinx... who’s super turnt up and ready to party! And she raps all her riddles (she still kills you if you don’t answer them correctly... but she raps the riddles)! +FUN

c. This weird creature I drew when I was six and which is clearly super derivative from other mythological creatures... but it’s super cool and it’s my OC and my spirit animal, okay? +CREATIVITY

You’re elected president for a day. What’s the first law you pass?

a. You can deduct taxes by writing sonnets instead. Amount of taxes deducted are calculated based on the beauty of the sonnets. +CREATIVITY

b. Trivia fact: presidents don’t pass laws... so is this a trick question or are you just being an idiot? +SMARTS

c. One dollar bills will now include a picture of me and the inscription “Beware: Too Much Awesomeness.” My presidency might last a day, but my fame will last forever! +CHARM

A radioactive possum just bit you... what superpowers did you get?

a. The superpower of always choosing the right combination of emojis to get the desired reaction from all people: seducing my loved ones, burning my enemies, settling an argument, and even conveying complex emotional thoughts. +CHARM

b. Uh, probably rabies? I’d go to a hospital immediately. +SMARTS

c. The incredible power of writing fanfiction so compelling that the actual creators of the TV shows decide to go with my ideas and crazy ships. +CREATIVITY

School is outdated and lame. We need a new school subject asap!

a. Critical thought. I mean... damn, this country could really use a subject like that in schools. +SMARTS

b. Turning people into your puppets through emotional warfare and deception 101. +CHARM

c. How to correctly punch a crocodile without terrible consequences. +BOLD

If you had to have sex with animal... which animal would it be?

(You don’t get six answers; the three answers you get are randomized.)

a. A great white shark. I have to fuck an animal, let’s at least make it a story worth telling! +CHARM

b. A swan. They’re classy. Plus it reminds me of that myth of Leda and the Swan, so at least by bestiality standards it has a certain chic appeal. +CREATIVITY

c. A human being, because I’m the kind of douchebag who loves to find loopholes in stupid questions like this one. +SMARTS

d. A purebred horse. At least I can keep his semen and sell it. It’s worth a lot! Who said there was no silver lining to bestiality? +WEALTH

e. A dolphin. They’re the only other animal that fucks just for pleasure, so at least we can both do our best to have a good time, right? +FUN

f. No on can make me fuck an animal. If I fucked an animal, it’d be of my own free will. As a matter of fact, I already have fucked an animal, so the joke’s on you, pal. +BOLD

The coolest reality show would be...

a. Twelve experts on the various arts of seduction live in a house where they must face a common challenge: seducing a potato into marriage... somehow. +CHARM

b. Eight rich people fight in weekly challenges to see who’s the best at giving money to you. +WEALTH

c. People in various positions of power must face all sorts of questions relevant to their field, and if they fail, they lose their jobs... and society wins. +SMARTS

You get the chance to produce a movie. It’s based on...

a. The most influential Russian novelists of the XIX century... have gone nuts! They don’t remember anything about last night and now they can’t find the manuscript of The Brothers Karamazov; and Dostoyevsky has to deliver it TODAY! +FUN

b. Two cool guys walking away from rad explosions. And they don’t look at the explosions. THEY DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE EXPLOSIONS! They reflect on life and love... AND IT IS SUPER DOPE AND KICK-ASS BECAUSE THEY DO SO WALKING AWAY FROM NEVER-ENDING EXPLOSIONS! +BOLD

c. Something about superheroes, but with a love triangle between a beauty yet somehow relatable girl (maybe she’s always stating she’s a mess?) and two of the super hot superheroes, which are also like vampires or pirates or both. Instant hit! +WEALTH

Democracy is just broken. What would be the best way of choosing the leaders of modern society?

a. Whoever can play the most heartbreaking violin solo wins. +CREATIVITY

b. You put all the candidates in an empty room... with a wild grizzly bear. Whoever kills the bear should be our president. If everyone dies, then it’s obvious: the bear should be our president. +BOLD

c. We create a reality show called “America’s Next Top President” where the candidates compete in all kinds of physical and mental challenges. Voter turnout would increase and we would turn a profit on it! +FUN

If you could put a curse on your worst enemy, what would it do?

a. I’d curse them to fall in love with a wonderful person and be happily married before they realize that all this time... their partner was a wild panther in disguise! Then the panther viciously devours my enemy. Classic! +BOLD

b. The curse of always meeting obnoxious people at parties who are super into new fad diets that feel the need to explain them in detail. +CHARM

c. You can’t rely on the effectiveness of a curse. I prefer to take care of my enemies the old-fashioned way: by exposing them to unsafe doses of radiation over the course of several years. +SMARTS

What would be the coolest prize you could find in your box of cereal?

a. A tiny piece of sharp metal, so every scoop will be full of thrill and danger! +BOLD

b. The phone number of the sexy tiger on the front of the box. He’s so passionate about breakfast and health that he’s surely also a grrreat lover. +CHARM

c. A sample of a more nutritious breakfast option, so people are encouraged to stop eating that colorful crap. +SMARTS

What inanimate object do you think would make the best girlfriend or boyfriend, provided you went criminally insane?

a. A human-size pillow depicting a character created by myself. As a matter of fact, I have all the needed paperwork and I’m only waiting for the conservative narrow-minded laws of our country to finally step forward into waifu and husbando territory, as was clearly intended by God. +CREATIVITY

b. A dildo, duh. +FUN

c. An ATM. Sugar baby life, here I come! +WEALTH

Which god do you pray to each night before sleeping?

a. Praying is kind of lame. I have a group text set up with some deities: Dionysus, Bastet, Loki... coolest cats in town. +CHARM

b. Praying is for fools. I took some compromising pics of a god molesting a tree, and now I blackmail him for whatever I want. A lot more effective. +SMARTS

c. Oh, I pray to all kinds of gods. I have this business where people pay me to deliver their prayers every night. I’ve even started to look for a Chinese factory to outsource the prayers. +WEALTH

prom date questions

What is the sexiest type of knowledge a lover can have?

a. How to set stuff on fire. ❤️DAMIEN

b. All the principles to build a financial empire. ❤️VERA

c. Lyrics to all Disney songs. ❤️MIRANDA

d. Obscure 80s movie trivia. ❤️LIAM

e. Sports things. ❤️SCOTT

f. How to make a killer cocktail out of anything. ❤️POLLY

Your partner just gave you a cool gift for your anniversary but you totally forgot! Quick, come up with an idea for a great gift!

a. The head of their fiercest enemy. ❤️VERA

b. A silly toy that makes silly noises. ❤️SCOTT

c. The abstract concept of gratefulness. ❤️LIAM

d. A pony. Always a pony. ❤️MIRANDA

e. Anything on fire. Or a weapon. No, no: a weapon on fire. ❤️DAMIEN

f. Anything capable of leading them to an overdose of some sorts. ❤️POLLY

What would be a deal-breaker for a potential lover?

a. The person lacks taste. ❤️LIAM

b. The person is mediocre. ❤️VERA

c. The person is a coward. ❤️DAMIEN

d. The person is boring. ❤️POLLY

e. The person hates the outdoors. ❤️SCOTT 

f. The person lacks manners. ❤️MIRANDA

What would be a killer accessory?

a. Sunglasses... at night. ❤️POLLY

b. A fabulous purse made from the skin of your worst enemy. ❤️VERA

c. Coolness itself. ❤️LIAM

d. Fancy brass knuckles. ❤️DAMIEN

e. A necklace with your own name... in case you forget! ❤️SCOTT

f. Shiny armor. ❤️MIRANDA

The world will end tomorrow... What will you do today?

a. Nobody ends the world but me! I’ll end the world today. ❤️DAMIEN

b. It’s okay! We invented the apocalypse to take care of the overpopulation of commoners. ❤️MIRANDA

c. I’ll finish my novel... whoever comes after the end should know my legacy! ❤️LIAM

d. 100 push-ups... no, no 200 push-ups! ❤️SCOTT

e. They always tell you the world is ending... I’ll profit on other people’s hysteria. ❤️VERA

f. I always party as if there were no tomorrow... so who cares? ❤️POLLY

Which criteria would you use to name your children?

a. Meh... no name? It’s just too much work! ❤️POLLY

b. I will research for a name that is pun-proof and joke-proof. No one will pick on them. ❤️VERA

c. A non-heteronormative name to give them freedom to define themselves on their own terms. ❤️LIAM

d. Just a swear word. ❤️DAMIEN

e. My name + “II” (the Second). ❤️MIRANDA

f. Something simple and friendly, like Bobby or Mary. ❤️SCOTT

If you were an ice cream... which flavour would you be?

a. Double creme de la Gruyere and meringues. ❤️LIAM

b. Spicy chocolate. No... chocolate on FIRE! ❤️DAMIEN

c. Success. ❤️VERA

d. Tequila and coke. ;) ❤️POLLY

e. Rainbows and gummy bears. ❤️MIRANDA

f. Meat! ❤️SCOTT

What would be your dream first date?

a. An art exhibition experimental enough to give you a seizure. ❤️LIAM

b. A sweaty and manly wrestling match. ❤️SCOTT

c. A professional meeting where you charm your date with some astonishing business advice! ❤️VERA

d. A wild party in international waters. ❤️POLLY

e. A lovely walk in the forest... after rescuing your date from a dragon! ❤️MIRANDA

f. Crimes. ❤️DAMIEN

You find a genie in a bottle. You can ask for whatever you want. What do you ask for?

a. A rainbow that you can eat! ❤️MIRANDA

b. I don’t ask for anything. I drink the genie from the bottle. I can grant my own wishes! ❤️DAMIEN

c. Before asking for anything, you try to negotiate up to the three standard wishes. ❤️VERA

d. Infinite confetti! ❤️POLLY

e. ...His friendship! ❤️SCOTT

f. Him to not be so cliched. Genies and wishes... so mainstream! ❤️LIAM

What would be the most appealing in a love partner?

a. A big... horn. ❤️DAMIEN

b. Sharp wits. ❤️LIAM

c. Kawaii eyes. ❤️MIRANDA

d. A very tsundere personality. ❤️VERA

e. Soft fur. ❤️SCOTT

f. A taste for party. ❤️POLLY

[avegetariancannibal]

“Boy With a Haunted Past” (part THREE)

The story so far: it's 1990, Hannibal and Will are 17 and 16 respectively, they've been on a date to a "haunted house" and Will's father has warned him to stay away from his new fella.

[ part 2 | 1 ]

Will woke up with his fingers pressed to his lips as if he were trying to hold in the sensation of his kisses with Hannibal. He smiled, realizing the space beneath his lower lip felt tender. He had stubble burn! He had stubble burn from kissing a boy who had stubble!

All too soon, the memory of his homecoming crept in, replacing his euphoria.

At once he was grumpy and fuming, and determined to avoid his father for the next... however long it took. Telling him to stay away from the first guy who liked him back, all over some weird rumor that undoubtedly had zero basis in reality? It was... it was unfair and wrong, and it had intruded on his reminiscence of the night before..

Luckily, his dad had already left for his weekend job by the time Will skulked out of his room.

He picked up the phone and dialed the number for Hannibal's host family.

A young boy answered. "You've reached the Froideveaux-Bloom residence." He sounded very practiced and formal.

"May I speak to Hannibal Lecter?" Will asked, trying to match the kid's formality.

"He just got back from his run!" the boy gushed, dropping his affected way of talking. "Did you know he can run thirty miles an hour?"

Will laughed before he could stop himself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to---it's just that's faster than humans can run."

"Hannibal can do anything," the boy sniffed.

"Can he talk on the phone, then?" Will asked.

"He's in the shower," the boy said. "Is this Will? If this is Will, he said I should tell you to come over any time even if he's in the shower, which is is right now."

Will barely blurted out his thanks before hanging up the phone and running out the door, spurred on by the mental imagine of Hannibal taking a shower.

He ran all the way over, nearly a mile-and-a-half, except for the last block so he could catch his breath and not look like a total weirdo.

The house was decorated for Halloween, but in a tasteful and pretty cheerful way. The scarecrows with their pumpkin heads smiled without menace, and wicker cats crouched as if playfully pouncing. It all looked pretty expensive, to Will's eye.

When he knocked on the door, Alana Bloom answered. She was a sophomore, too, but at least two social levels higher than him. They'd never hung out even though they had classes together. She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, looking distinctly amused and knowing. It made him feel self-conscious and he didn’t know why. He looked away from her eyes.

"I-is Hannibal home?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, moving aside. "Come on in, Pink Cheeks."

Will's hand flew to his face. Was he blushing? Or was he still flushed from running? Probably both. Damn it.

"He's still getting ready," she said, waving him over to the living room.

Will frowned. "Getting ready for what?"

"For you," she said. He could tell she was rolling her eyes even though he hadn't looked at her again.

Will had to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from grinning at that.

"You know," she said as they sat down, "my parents wanted to host a female student. They thought it'd be nice for me to have a ‘sister,’ even just for a year. I've got two brothers in college and now my stepbrother Frankie."

"Not Frankie!" A young boy's voice corrected her from somewhere up the stairs. "Franklyn!"

"Frankie," Alana said, raising her voice, "what did Hannibal tell you about eavesdropping?"

A moment later, a cherub-faced boy with a riot of dark hair came sulking down the stairs.

"He said it was rude," Franklyn sighed. "I apologize to you both."

He made a minute bow---the very same gesture Will had seen Hannibal make half a dozen times in classes. The kid obviously had an extreme case of hero worship and it was pretty cute.

"Apology accepted," Will said.

"As I was saying," Alana went on. "They were nervous about having some smooth European boy in the house with me, like he was gonna stamp his passport with my hymen or something, but it was clear from the start he had his eye on someone else."

Will's mouth was hanging open from her passport comment. All he could make was a vaguely idiotic noise.

"Oh, don't pretend you didn't know he’s liked you from the start," she said. "False modesty is so annoying. Your entire chin is covered in stubble burn."

"I-it's not false modesty!" Will protested, rubbing his chin. "I'm genuinely a moron!"

She laughed, and not cruelly. Will was kind of warming up to her.

"What's stubble burn?" Franklyn asked.

"It's when a boy likes you very much," Alana started, "and underestimates how quickly his facial hair grows."

Will was 100% certain he was going to combust, as it felt like his body temperature had more than doubled in an instant.

Luckily, Hannibal came downstairs at last. He was wearing a dark red henley, unbuttoned at the top to show a strand of honest-to-God chest hair. He drew up short on the last step as his eyes met Will's and his face lit up with the goofiest, most perfectly stupid grin of all time. Will found himself grinning back, unable to move, so struck he was by the vision of---

"Hello, Will."

"Hello, Hannibal."

"Oh my freaking God," Alana sighed.

Franklyn tried to bound over to Hannibal, but Alana grabbed his arm.

"Let go of me," fumed the boy.

"No, we're going to play video games," Alana told him. "And if you're good and leave Hannibal alone for a while, he'll make you a grilled cheese later. Isn't that right?'

"Completely right," Hannibal agreed. "With the fontina we like so much."

Franklyn gave a muffled squeal of delight.

Will didn't even remember getting out of his chair, but suddenly he was following Hannibal up the stairs.

"Interesting decor," Will said, looking around at the multiple Batman posters. "Never took you for a big movie fan."

Hannibal looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. "Oh! I'd all but forgotten those. They belong to Alana's brother. I'm just borrowing the room so I thought I'd do well to redecorate it in my mind only."

Will frowned. "In your mind? How does that work?"

Hannibal took hold of his hand. "Close your eyes."  Will couldn't stop staring at their interlaced fingers. Hannibal gave his hand a squeeze and said, "Close your eyes."

Will did as he was told.

"I suspect you have an abundance of empathy," Hannibal said beside him.

That made Will snort. "Too much, some people tell me."

"Don't listen to them," Hannibal said. "It's a sign of a powerful imagination. You can put yourself in other people's minds. All you have to do is put yourself in other... places."

"Is that what you do??" Will asked. "Like...imagine yourself back home in Lithuania?"

"Not there," Hannibal said. "But in my favorite museums. Sometimes instead of Michael's poster over the bed, I think of Leda and the Swan by Francois Boucher, or Botticelli's Primavera."

Will squeezed his eyes shut, trying to conjure something into his mind. "I...don't know what those look like."

"Just think of something you like," Hannibal said. "It doesn't have to be art. It can be a place, real or fictional. Let it come to you."

Will slowed his breathing. He let everything in the room be wiped away, as if by a sweeping eraser, even Hannibal. In place of the oversized posters and sports memorabilia, he let ferns sprout up. Willows unfurled their branches, letting them fall like curtains made of delicate green beads. A stream sprang up around his feet, rising until the water circled his thighs, cool and somewhat viscous with algae. He'd forgotten to imagine himself a pair of waders.

He laughed.

Hannibal materialized in the stream with him, still holding his hand. "Where are we?" he asked, smiling.

"My favorite fishing place in Louisiana," Will said. "The fishing actually wasn't very good, but it was... peaceful. I didn't have to think so much about everything."

"What made you laugh just then?"

"Oh, I forgot my waders," Will said. He tried to imagine them on, but it was too late. "I feel the water going up my legs and it... uh... tickles."

"Are you naked?" Hannibal asked in a low voice. "Am I naked with you?"

Will burst out laughing. "No! No, I'm wearing jeans. We're both wearing what we're wearing here, in real life. We're wearing the same things in my imagination."

"Ah well, maybe next time," Hannibal said with an exaggerated sigh.

Will shook himself free of the scenery he'd created in his mind until they were standing in the bedroom again.

"How did you know?" he asked. "About my empathy, I mean. I usually try to keep that under wraps."

"Little things," Hannibal said. "The subtle changes in your expression when someone said in class that nobody really knew why bad men did bad things. You understood."

Will remembered that day. They'd been speaking of scientists who committed horrible crimes against their fellow human beings in the pursuit of knowledge or fame. Will knew exactly why they'd done these things, because he could all too easily put himself in their minds. He'd felt ill afterwards.

"I-I don't excuse what they---"

"Of course not," Hannibal cut him off. "Empathy isn't sympathy, though many mistakenly use the words interchangeably."

"You got all that from my facial expressions in class?" Will asked.

Hannibal rubbed the palm of his hand with his thumb. "I think you underestimate just how closely I've been looking at you. At first because you're clearly beautiful and you caught my eye, but then because I wanted to know you and hoped I would see some sign that you wanted to know me, too."

Will had no idea what to say to any of that, so he grabbed Hannibal by the waist and pulled him in for a kiss.

(to be continued)

[libidomechanica]

“of the Hudson trembling like Eves apples: for the abysmal wave”

It is not blinded of the 

Hudson trembling like  Eves apples: for the abysmal 

wave? The nymphs to 

speak which now most irksom night, having  the streames, Losing fame, and  rural loveth, wherever  the virgin face. and pendant  pearl and confess? That faded  star flashy acrobatics without  should I followd still with  me from them, and of  camphire increase, his eyebrows,  once, quickly make a face! Your  children, the answer not their exit  await, upon thine oath Busie  archer his rebellious  Lust, from the signified. to  love no more. Modest I am  come to see pearl. So I go  into begin joy w as a time, which when  the only of the  hart: dumbe Swans, not pure  as a cluster of Leda, shall I  be left in a cloud the  rain; I want to be  another Earth, no life? Nearly bloomin  and sable curls all sorrow late, and  such music, and a happiness;  and my bundle of touch my  skin & hold or lose. O were all  grace a doubt, white, empty 

By watered with you till these  note of spices. and most  placd such powring of it. When  ecstasy of coming  house past when the moment  you walked two night, their tool. And bring  rush of thy gentle grew alone  lives then down at a wedding  fears; tomorrow went on  living looks went mad, and swamping t  have gassed with such destroy thee,  that charm of womens Ears will  me sooner stampd by on bamboo  stilts, playing horse, a shuffled stream, those  whose desert sigh so sweet, making  up a Harp, between its  mouth.        At thou hast won? And make false  bonds of green an me thereof every  friend, and water, half  waking the sobs of firm on  the Kingdoms three-decker out  of the World but wayling else  this, be where yon Lilac fair,  to slaye with pipe as  Nature might bear along house an  irredeemable would have been.

[christineamccalla]

Freedom of Religion: A Spiritual Battle Or A Battle Of The Spirits?, by McCalla, Christine Ann, MBA, MS, CBME, CAHR, CBDE, CTW, CPA

See link, https://drive.google.com/file/d/1VLQJn0dpVjysNvMHzWo4vBWp3dyylZH7/view?usp=sharing

The Charter on the Fundamental Human Rights of the European Union, conferences

Article 10 Freedom of thought, conscience and religion

1. Everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion. This right includes freedom to change religion or belief and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or in private, to manifest religion or belief, in worship, teaching, practice and observance.

2. The right to conscientious objection is recognised, in accordance with the national laws governing the exercise of this right.

Article  12 Freedom  of  assembly  and  of  association

1.  Everyone  has  the  right  to  freedom  of  peaceful  assembly  and  to  freedom  of  association  at  all  levels,  in  particular  in  political,  trade  union  and  civic  matters,  which  implies  the  right  of  everyone  to  form  and  to  join  trade  unions  for  the  protection  of  his  or  her  interests.

2.  Political  parties  at  Union  level  contribute  to  expressing  the  political  will  of  the  citizens  of  the  Union.

Article  13 Freedom  of  the  arts  and  sciences

The  arts  and  scientific  research  shall  be  free  of  constraint.  Academic  freedom  shall  be  respected.

As such, any denizenry is free to pursue religion, solely or in assembly and association, and engage in scientific research free of restraint. One collaborative element, alchemy. Alchemy is widely perceived as a transformation of matter, and is often pursued under the Internal Revenue Code and Commerce, Trade, and Industry as a variant of sorcery, witchcraft, or a rivalry of the occult, and legitimately so as long as there are no violations of Contraband Treaties; Internal Revenue Code; or Public Health and Welfare. It is often alleged that no enterprise is exempt from the Alchemy’s Industry given his reach including that of the cosmic, interstellar, and interspace. A most criminally irresponsible allegation circulating within the European Union was that a sect practicing alchemy once found its way into the Interstellar solely through the application of the theorems of alchemy and the alchemic periodic table including on a commercial basis.

From the Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM) perspective, alchemic periodic table elements of Actinide and Rare Earth Metals groupings are capable of facilitating this endeavor. Furthermore, the ancient civilizations of Babylonian; Sumerian; Greeks; and Samarian created portals applying defined and distinct hieroglyphs strategically placed. With the Battle Of The Spirits in hand, diligence, this would be a worthy endeavor due to the fame and client list said enterprise builds.

Religiously, FoxNews (2015) describes Stonehenge as a, (1) UNESCO World Heritage site; (2) a favorite with visitors from throughout the world; (3) popular with Druids, neo-Pagans and New Agers who attach mystical significance to the strangely-shaped circle of stones; and, (4) there remains great debate about the actual purpose of the structure. Scientifically, the Stonehenge could have been a power source and could have been attributed to a competitive or rivaling society such as the Mayan’s astronomy including their numbering systems. Thereby, a relevant and necessary societal attribute as one would consider the restrictions of Housing and Urban Developments in which all industrial attributes must be appropriately zoned. In a new era, Stonehenge could be a wanderer’s paradise, New Age, Pagan, or Christian.

Hypothetically, Stonehenge is a marvel but a recreatable one based on hypothesis. Applying the designs and methodologies of Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM), assume in application:

The laws and properties of the stones and formation of Stonehenge (principles) including the stones’ mediums and geographical positioning,

The alchemical periodic table of elements, transitional metals including titanium; manganese; iron; vanadium; cobalt; and, nickel,

Apply the formulae, wave and waveforms; waveform lab; electricity and magnetisms; electromagnetisms; heat; thermodynamics; mechanics; angular frequency; and bandwidth formulae

Apply and integrate the attributes of this hypothesis

The Stonehenge laws, properties, foundations, fundamentals, principles, theories, and theorems  have been applied in the creation of art turned reality, titled, The Nuclear Reactor created as a self-autonomously powered instrument revered as art, in which alchemic periodic table elements transitional metals grouping including cobalt, iron, et al along with formulae of emissivity, scalar and vector, et al created the engineering marvel and interstellar weaponry powered only by Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM), relying on the basis of these nuclear formulae as the sole power source. A similar design and methodology and more advanced than the hypothesis demonstrated above resulting in Interstellar weapons, weaponry, and arsenals designed by McCalla, Christine Ann.

In this debate, the Freedom of Religion: A Spiritual Battle Or A Battle Of The Spirits? could be either, with the Battle Of The Spirit being diligence and discipline to engineer a design and methodology worthy of prominence. This debate has answered the question regarding the generation of renewable energy sources including nuclear, electricity, and other power sources rivaling that of a nuclear element and particularly in subsequent eras. It is certainly possible in this millennia and was the case in the Stonehenge’s Age. The caveat, the revered Stonehenge, hypothetically proven self powered instrument, is a religious object and not a scientific one. The hypothesis of the scientific version is a realistic and proven theorem verifiable in the case of the defense object, but under the laws and statutes of War and National Defense; Armed Forces; Navigation and Navigable Waters; European Atomic Energy Council; European Atomic Energy Community; European Atomic Energy Committee: Geneva Conventions; Patent; and, Copyright.

The product is clean renewable energy generated by nuclear formulae, emissivity, et al,  by the The Nuclear Reactor and creator, McCalla, Christine Ann Joseph Nicole, MBA, MS, CBME, CAHR, CBDE, CTW, CPA, also known as McCalla, Christine Ann. This attribute is secured in a defense facility and titled as The Collector’s Room, also designed by McCalla, Christine Ann, with other art work of rivaling mastery, (1) Leda and The Swan made of the exclusive, customizable Coutlaven Argisyl Art Work Medium. Leda and The Swan is an self-autonomous ingenuity that tells the story of Leda and The Swan by voicing from a first-person perspective between her love affair of Zeus and herself through means of audio-visual moving picture design applying Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM), alchemic periodic table elements jointly and severally, and including ancient civilizations STEM attributes along with other confidential and proprietary trade secrets. (2) Poseidon; (3) Diana - The Swift Footed Huntress; (4) Creation of Man / Adam; (5) Raised Embossed Mosaics; and, (6) The Curator’s Lure, a modeled scale describing The Renaissance: The Connection (era) whose affluent design of prominence; extravagance; Ancient Babylonian and Roman  Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM); and the highlights of a prior civilizations’ Internal Revenue Code integrated with Education (architecture), Commerce, Trade, and Industry, and socio-economic and political prowesses.

From The Collector’s Room’s conference, The Freedom of Religion: A Spiritual Battle Or A Battle Of The Spirits?, has now become a societal one fraught with socio-economic and political issues. These include, the affluence of the owners’ of said pieces; the availability and accessibility of viewings of the artifacts; the lack of decorum in the enquiries regarding cost of ownership; and, disposals prior to ownership. There is also the musings as to religious associations and affiliations, as described by The Charter on the Fundamental Human Rights of the European Union, Article 10 Freedom of thought, conscience and religion; Article 12 Freedom of assembly and of association; and, Article  13 Freedom of the arts and sciences.

 Whether the subtlety on said lapse in decorum is lost or not, it is clearly a matter of Money, Finance, Treasury; Bankruptcy; Bankruptcy Rules; LIBOR; and, MAASTRICHT. Regardless of consideration, the presence of the exclusive, customized Coutlaven Argisyl Art Work Medium in the creation of each element is a scientific genius given its own designs and methodologies including Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM); alchemical periodic table groupings; and nuclear formulae.

The Freedom of Religion, et al, is simply that. For the Battles of The Spirits, it includes the need of another expert, Sun Tzu and The Art of War, Chapter IV - Tactical Disposition. Consider the General Tzu’s theories of,

The good fighters of old first put themselves beyond the possibility of defeat, and then waited for an opportunity of defeating the enemy.

To secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself.

Thus the good fighter is able to secure himself against defeat, but cannot make certain of defeating the enemy.

Hence the saying: One may know how to conquer without being able to do it.

Security against defeat implies defensive tactics; ability to defeat the enemy means taking the offensive.

Standing on the defensive indicates insufficient strength; attacking, a superabundance of strength.

The Religious conferences describing designs and methodologies of the Battle Of The Spirits, describes man as weak and defenseless; helpless against adversaries and enemies; include arsenals of intellect leveling defeats through testimonies; the ability to engage in forfeiture at opportune times; and, weaponry includes faith, belief, and trust in a symbolic element (The Lamb), as detailed below. The Freedom of Religion: A Spiritual Battle… prevailed in the following format:

BibleHub’s Psalm 60:11, World English Bible, Give us help against the adversary, for the help of man is vain.

BibleHub’s Revelation 12:11, King James Version, And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death.

BibleHub’s International Standard Version, Be clear-minded and alert. Your opponent, the devil, is prowling around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour.

Bible Gateway’s Ephesians 6:12 King James Version (KJV). For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

In the Battle Of The Spirits, morale being the services of valor, Tzu the General, an excellent definition of character and authority within the Armed Forces, War and National Defense, Navigation and Navigable Waters, Coast Guard, National Guard, Parens Patriae, and Mandamus, values elitism character traits predefining and preferably preceding success. Tzu’s values include preparation; excellence; anticipation; patience; luring and snaring of the enemy; theory ≠ practicality; projection ≠ reality; mastery in the theorems of offensive and defensive; and, leveraging competence in lieu of strength (defensive indicates weakness, attacking indicates strengths).

The Spiritual Battle from Christianity’s perspective differs substantially from Tzu and his Battle of Spirits. The Christianity conference holds the adversaries and enemies as wide and varied including mankind, principalities and powers, rulers of the darkness, and spiritual wickedness in high places. The spherical periodic tables can certainly define the anatomical compositions of these religious elements including the atomical components, or perhaps the mere summoning of these creatures of creation are challenging enough given the costs, mystical tomes, and expertise required. With the right STEM attributes, a principality or power itself can be created, but this accomplishment lies within the breadth and dimensionalities of the formulae used; accessibility of resources to the creator; and, willingness to exhibit a Battle of The Spirits regarding self-command and self-governance to accomplish the desire. As for the rulers in The Spiritual Battle, the judicial, judiciary, and legislative systems and respective actions and procedures are more than sufficient.

There are two (2) area in which both Tzu and Christianity may share sentiments. That is the Freedom of Religion: A Spiritual Battle Or A Battle Of The Spirits?, do not contrast. That is the design and methodology presented by BibleHub’s English Standard Version, Proverbs 13:24, Whoever spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him. For Tzu, it is, In respect of military method, we have, firstly, Measurement; secondly, Estimation of quantity; thirdly, Calculation; fourthly, Balancing of chances; fifthly, Victory.

To battle the spiritual, estimate the strength of the adversary; is the believer sufficient and prudent in acting alone or is reinforcement needed?; proceed as is, or defer the encounter for another interaction; and, overcome the adversary by applying BibleHub’s Revelation 12:11, King James Version, And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death.

This is the holy grail in spiritual despair, or as the believer terms it, while under spiritual attack. The believer does not create a design or methodology in this instance due to constraints such as fear or time, but boldly declare faith in prayer and belief, and commands the adversary to act as the believer governs. BibleHub’s Hebrews 11:1, King James Bible Version, Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. Believer can never be weak in the face of the adversary, but must defeat the enemy at all costs, the unseen enemy in A Spiritual Battle. The evidence unseen is BibleHub’s Revelation 12:11, King James Version, And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death.

The symbolic Lamb and Blood of the Lamb is the sacrifice of the Messiah Jesus Christ who died upon the cross, celebrated by Lent; fasting and prayers during Lenten season; and annual Easter. To whom much is given, much is required. The believer has been given much, the promise and assurance of Romans 8, Verses 38 to 39

For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,

Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Christ Jesus our Lord is our symbolic Lamb and Blood of the Lamb. Things unseen are of no consequence as the believer is used to faith, an intangible attribute. In the event tangibility is required, the judicial, judiciary, and legislative systems and Freedoms of Religion laws and statutes must suffice. Things unseen, irrelevant. On the left is The Bible, and on the right, the judicial, judiciary, and legislative systems. Therefore believer must go forth in confidence regardless of the adversary in this The Freedom of Religion: A Spiritual Battle Or A Battle Of The Spirits?, be it a General made of flesh and blood; principalities; powers; rulers of the darkness of this world; or spiritual wickedness in high places.

In The Freedom of Religion: A Spiritual Battle Or A Battle Of The Spirits?, there are differences, similarities, and then joint interests. While not being the 2018 National Defense Strategy, the believer can expand the competitive space, offering competitors and adversaries an outstretched hand, prayer or greeting.

Summary of the 2018 National Defense Strategy - DoD https://dod.defense.gov/Portals/1/.../pubs/2018-National-Defense-Strategy-Summary.pdf

https://www.foxnews.com/story/new-stonehenge-find-reveals-religious-significance

[violettesiren]

I was Leda's intimate, and slave

born, as I was, on the losing side,

where the mind grows agile,

and the heart's true tongue

learns to put on fable for disguise.

Take, for example, the swan-

it came to me as we shook

the pillows out and a few white feathers

flew.  How she laughed when I spoke

the thought aloud-how the god

would rape her in the swan's white shape

with the winged ease of miracle,

but big, believable: the serpent's neck,

the malign eye, the yellow webs

of its feet pinning her arms,

the terrible beak-Zeus,

a perfect cover for a god too old for love

in whom the dry seed rattled like a gourd.

Now I look back, I think perhaps

the fabrication a mistake-fuel to set

the bright sparks of desire ablaze,

a whetstone to ambition's

extra axe-bright edge.

Though everything can be forgotten

(or so sunk in memory's swamp

that the shape to which emotion clings

is lost), consequence goes on,

the unexpected spawn of our exploits,

and even of our lies-like Leda's pair

of girls, the pawns of fame,

her joy of them left out like babies

for the pigs to eat.  Her boys, gold stars

hung in a mother's pane. Murder and war,

and the animal roar of a city

put to the torch-born from those nights

of love. I think of his tread

on the porch, the dust of his boots

on her floor, the thick Persian lamb

of his hair. How afterwards

Leda and I gave rumor wings, shaking

swansdown on her bed, airing out

the sweet male smell of sperm,

for the seed of gods is

odorless, like light.

It was I who led him to her room

and I who told the story

that the lyre takes

from court to court, and I who had him

first, and and after, too, for he was

mine-the sons he got of me, oh...

two were drowned at sea, two died

at the walls of Troy, one lives

but is not whole. Our daughters,

practiced in the arts of grief, are

widows all. Cold beds, moth-eaten coats

hung on history's hook, a name

the flutters like a sleeve.

And the children left behind-

for them I fill the vacancy

with tales, to guide the plow

that furrows memory, the gift

of a lady's slave, poured

into the ear of a war-blinded son

who is a comfort to my age,

that one-because he loves

the tales I tell, because

he sings them in a cadence

that would crack a stone

god's heart; at night

when sleep despises me,

I write them down,

I sign the name

we share.

Leda's Handmaiden by Eleanor Wilner