#perdix writes

[amorphousbl0b]

“You tell me there is someone in the labyrinth.”

“There is.”

“Could I meet him?”

“You would not get along.”

“Oh, why not? I just want someone to play with.”

“He is a hungry creature. He eats people.”

“Why?”

“Because he is a monster. He has the body of an enormous man and the face of a bull.”

“Bulls eat grass, not meat.”

“This one eats men. That is all he has ever eaten. Rather, that is all he has ever been fed.”

“That is a sad way to live.”

“It is. But that is what our benefactor decrees, and I am at his mercy.”

“You? What did you do?”

“You know I built the labyrinth. It is the creature’s prison. Every boy and girl from our homeland who has died in that place has me to thank. Even then, I have done far worse than that.”

“I think the king is to blame.”

“Speak carefully when you besmirch him. Call him our benefactor, or when a cleverer guard listens, the bull father.”

“Bull father? You could not mean…”

“The thing in the maze, yes, is his son. And for this too I am to blame, I who crafted the means for his wife’s accursed tryst.”

“How could such a thing happen? People do not give birth to monsters.”

“The father was insolent and refused to give the gods their due. Asterion is a punishment.”

“A child cannot be a punishment.”

“No, my boy, I think he can.”

[febuwhump]

alright, I need reverse propaganda. I need someone to put me on Icarus cause I want to see the vision but I need ideas for how and why I might use said prompt in a fic

i think there's only a few, its all about a character flying too close to the sun. trying so hard, with so much confidence, and getting catastrophically burned.

or literally. you could literally write about icarus. or a winged character. who falls to their death.

or a story about not listening to advice and that exact ignored guidance being the thing that ruins you.

or a story about a fuckass father who killed his nephew, your cousin, because he was too smart and got jealous and then he got you, his son, who he loves way more probably because you're not as smart as perdix ever was and so there's no possibility of outshining your father, and this time you fucking DIE lol

or like. take it from daedalus' perspective - you throw away something beautiful because you're jealous and petty, and so the next beautiful thing you do love is ripped away from you in a similar but crueller fashion

[smugglers-bible]

Story nine hundred

The hell of it—the trap waiting to break your ankle as you stumble among the shaded ferns—is repetition. Consider, a word or phrase seems to possess wonderful qualities. The edges glow. It pings nicely against the ear when you read it back to yourself. (The cadence is important and, be honest, who else would listen?)

Beware, however, of poisonous familiarity. Perhaps you like the writing because you have written it before. These things happen. The pit is deep. The snare is devious and so well baited.

It had better be. You were up all night working on it.

a story concerning Perdix.

[tod--waggner]

url history: cuttletavioshipper -> empty-warehouse -> cyberian--demons -> i-love-you-i-swear -> cyberian--demons -> lazarus---rising

ey/em, it/its, ze/zem, xe/xem, voi/void, mu/music, mew/mews, meo/meow, angel/angels, wing/wings, or if youre boring: she/her he/him (if you use they/them for me i smite you from the heavens)

main things im posting about right now are across the spiderverse , supernatural , and the mechanisms , things i might mention every so often are splatoon and various musicals (especially tgwdlm) (and alot more im not gonna bother writing out)

i have a lot of names , main ones are Spot(or The Spot i dont really care too much), Johnathon (or any variation/nickname ver. of that), Castiel, and Jonah . Or you can use any of my other names: Ambrose, Ariadne, CT, Elsen, Emmet, Evan, Fireheart/star, Gabriel, Galahad, Kai, Luke, Mary, Orpheus, Paul, Perdix, Ricky, Si, Stanley, or Truman

im fictionkin+otherkin , main (fiction)kintypes im posting about right now are the spot/johnathon ohnn (atsv) and castiel (spn) . kin tags are formatted #(kin name) kinnie moment

dividers by/found on animatedglittergraphics-n-more , pfp by @/egot1stical

[chrismsbooks]

The man, The Myth, The Legend. One of my top 3 favorite characters, his name is Perdix, and he’s a blast to write. His dialogue is fun , he always seems on top of the situation. He’s the charmer I wished I was. A bit of a ladies man, too…. But we all know people can change. Besides, that one’s not, by any stretch of the imagination, the biggest of his problems.

[the-fallofperdix]

For @lovelyirony who was having a shitty day

~~

It was a testament to how much Bucky was relaxed here, in Tony’s home, that he didn’t even flinch when Tony came up behind him.

“Good morning,” Tony said, draping himself over the back of the couch. Bucky blinked in surprise at the appearance of a potted plant in his hands.

“Mornin’ solnyshko.” Bucky said, taking the pot and shifting it so he could see his boyfriends face. “Whats this?”

“A flower?” Tony said, and at Bucky’s raised eyebrow he huffed and elaborated. “I was coming back from this meeting, and I saw this plant, and you’re always digging around in the greenhouse so...I thought I’d get you something? Maybe you can save it?...I got you a dying plant for a present. This is another 40 foot stuffed rabbit isn’t it? Fuck, I should have checked with JAR-”  

“It’s fine, I love it.” Bucky said before he could work himself into a tizzy. He carefully set the plant down beside his StarkPad, tugging Tony hand until he collapsed onto the couch beside him. “And for the record, I woulda loved a 40 foot tall stuffed rabbit. Imagine how great it would be for napping?”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Tony said thoughtfully. He jolted up from his sprawled position on the couch, looking determined as he looked at Bucky. “Let’s go on a date.”

“Sure,” Bucky said easily, “When?”

“Now.” Tony declared.

“Now?” Bucky said, raising an eyebrow. “Is this a spontaneous thing?”

“Maybe,” Tony said, his face shutting down slightly and Bucky cursed inwardly.

“Aw sugar, you know I’d love to spend time with ya,” he said, letting some of his Brooklyn Drawl seep through until he saw the faint blush on Tony’s cheeks. He stood and stretched, pleased to see Tony’s eyes trailing over him appraisingly. “Where we going?”

“Just thought we could go on a walk?” Tony said questioningly. “JARVIS said walks were good, fresh air, plus it’s not too strenuous so I won’t hurt my chest.”

“Your arc hurting again?” Bucky said, frowning down at him.

“Nothing bad, no I swear,” Tony said at Bucky’s skeptical look. “I’ve just been doing some lifting in the workshop, so I needed a break.”

“Sounds good,” Bucky said, throwing an arm over Tony’s shoulders and steering him towards the door. “Where we headed?”

“I hadn’t really decided that?” Tony admitted, “Just... wherever I guess?”

“Lucky for you, I’m down to go wherever with you,” Bucky said, winking at Tony who burst out in laughter at the innuendo.

“I’ve corrupted you,” Tony said in amusement.

“Nah doll, the Army did that long before you came around,” Bucky said as they emerged into the warm sunshine. A tug by Tony had them meandering up a random street. “Tell ya what, we’ll move all of Stevie’s furniture an inch left when we get back, and then we’ll get JARVIS to record the swearing when he stubs his toe.”

“You’re a bad influence on me Barnes,” Tony said with a chuckle. “Rhodey’s gonna be jealous.”

“Jealous?” Bucky asked, knocking his hip into Tony’s to enter a small park tucked away.

It really was a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly, and the air actually warm.

“Rhodey’s usually my partner in crime,” Tony explained, “He’s gonna be jealous I found another prankster to enable me.”

“I’ll have to prank him the next time he visits,” Bucky said thoughtfully, running through the ones he knew from Before, and the new ones Harley had planned with him.

“Leave me out of it,” Tony proclaimed.

“I’m wounded, you don’t have any faith in me?” Bucky said in mock affront.

“Everyone thinks I’m the one who used to cause all the chaos in MIT, but really, put any amount of tequila in Rhodey, and that’s how you end up with a rainbow painted piano suspended over a building,” Tony said dryly. “Or you end up in a glitter dress being chased by an angry chicken, two security guards dressed in drag and a priest in Milwaukee.”

“I need to hear that story,” Bucky said, making sad eyes at Tony’s protest until he gave in and started the story.

Apparently Bucky needed to give the Colonel tequila the next time he came around and have a camera ready.

They continued strolling around the park as Tony shared more stories. They even got ice cream from a vendor who absolutely knew who Tony was and pretended his register was broken and insisted on them taking the ice cream for free. Not that it stopped Tony from stuffing $300 in the tip jar.

“What?” Tony said curiously as they walked off. “You’re staring.”

“I love you,” he said abruptly, and Tony paused mid-lick to stare at him in bafflement. “I’m lucky that you’re dating me.”

“I could say the same,” Tony said, eyes crinkling as he smiled up at Bucky. “I love you too.”

He leaned up and kissed Bucky, before biting into Bucky’s ice cream like a savage and made him splutter in outrage.

It ended in a mud fight with the children in the park taking sides, but it was worth it, even if pictures of Tony tackling him into a mud puddle made headlines.

Bucky printed out the article and framed it.

(Tony smiled every time he saw it.)

[i-rove-rock-n-roll]

Perdix (alternative title related to moi: I’M BACK babyyyy)

(or is it babies? babiez? idk) 

Anyway, long time, no writing. I’ve been flooded with homework (end of term+ classes full of essays) and graced with a broken computer, so finally I got a new laptop to actually post stuff again.

This is dedicated to the one of a kind @couchwriting *airhorn noises* who has the patience of ten thousand saints for putting up with the suuuuuper long wait (it’s been what, a millennium since I got this request And I just now got around to it?? I feel like I owe u a lot more than this.. and I hope you enjoy cause of how long its been coming...) 

ANyway, (I certainly say anyway a lot don’t I?) this bit may or may not actually find its way into my novel (though it’ll be revamped and expanded and stuff). and idk where yet, but its definitely a part of the backstory for my dudes Icarus and Daedalus in my wip. 

Thus far I’ve done Icarus, Dionysus/Bacchus, Hades and Persephone, and Helen (of sparta/troy), Atalanta  and Morrigan

Under the cut cause this is borderline an entire chapter right here. Will also post interested peeps and other writing links at the end. :D Enjoyyyyy (this reaaaaally long post, though I feel it could be longer and definitely better, I didn’t want to keep you waiting..Plz forgive the rushed bits, cause there probably are some...)

“Take Perdix,” his mother had said wearily, pushing stray hair away from her face. “He’s too smart to stay with me Daedalus. He needs a teacher.”

“I—" His uncle stammered, unsure.

“He can’t be a farmer.” Mother shook her head. “He just—he has to be something. He deserves to be something.”

         “Peigi, I just started taking care of my own child, I don’t know how to take care of another.”

“You’re a genius, Daedalus. You’ll think of something.”

Perdix stared at the baby, who blew a raspberry back at him, giggling.

“I see you’re having fun.” Daedalus said, dropping an armful of tools onto the table.

“Da!” The baby grinned, lifting his arms. “Up! Up!” Daedalus scooped him up, bouncing him on his hip.

“Do you like playing with your cousin, Icarus?” Icarus responding by shoving his chubby fist in his mouth and drooling.

“What do you have?”

“Uh—"

“Ma?” Icarus chirped, interrupting.

“No, no Ma. Ma’s not here.” Daedalus pulled his hand away from his mouth. “Continue, Perdix.” Perdix rubbed his arm nervously.

“I separated the metal into prongs and adhered them—"

Icarus tugged on Daedalus’ hair. “What, Icarus?”

         “Da-ma?”

         “No Da-ma.” He placed Icarus on the ground, giving him a soft pat. Icarus toddled for a moment, then fell. Perdix continued his explanation, tugging Daedalus over to the workstation to show what precisely he had accomplished.

         “This is a good start.” Perdix beamed at Daedalus’ words. “But it needs some adjustments.” His uncle pulled his hair back, then pointed. “Do you see your flaw with how you melted—”

“Da-Ma?”

CRASH!

         Daedalus whirled around. The baby was surrounded by the various tools he had knocked over, all heavy or sharp, and by some miracle, all had missed hitting him.

“Icarus!”

         Icarus gave a small sniff. Then he began to cry.

“Daedalus,” Perdix hesitated. “What does Dama mean?”

“It’s his way of saying Da and Ma. Da-Ma.” Daedalus blew out a breath. He scooped Icarus up, who squirmed to get away, his face scrunched up as he continued to wail. “I shouldn’t have brought him in here. He—I—”

“He’s chewing on his foot.” Perdix told him. Daedalus swore.

“I’m not cut out to be a father.”

         Perdix hesitated. “You’re better than mine. At least you’re trying.”  He said with some small note of bitterness. “I’m sure Mother thought the same when Father left. He just—He never came back and yet she managed to raise me, somehow.”

         “Naucrate’s not gone, she—” Daedalus stopped. “It doesn’t matter.” He stood. “Let’s clean up this mess and grab some lunch. Our next project will be for Icarus.”

         “Making him a toy?”

They finished building in the late afternoon. Made of a wood, the box-like structure stood at about three feet and was placed out of the way of any falling tools or shrapnel. Perdix wiped his brow as Daedalus set Icarus inside. At first, Perdix thought his little cousin was going to cry again, but once he realized he could still see Daedalus through the bars, he settled down. Daedalus placed a small, roughly stitched stuffed toy next to him, and Icarus began to suck on the soft fabric.

         “Now maybe we can get some work done.” A loud rapping sound came from the door. Standing within the frame was a large man, wringing his equally large hands together.

         “I—I heard about you from Alexios, the baker. He had nothing but nice things to say about you, Daedalus, and ah—”

         “You’d like me to fix something for you?” Daedalus asked, amused when a red flush crept across the man’s face.

         “Yes, my tools, they’re at my station…” The man trailed off. Daedalus smiled.

         “So long as you don’t mind babysitting for a while, Perdix and I will fix everything. It’ll; be better than new.”

         “Babysitting?” The man blinked owlishly. But neither inventor nor apprentice heard him, Perdix rushing to gather anything they might need before sprinting out the door after his uncle’s longer strides.

         The cobbler stared at the baby, who stared back, his dark eyebrows drawn together. Then Icarus began to cry.

         “Oh, no, no, no, baby, don’t cry!” The man picked him up, swaddling the screaming with his large arms. “You just want someone to hold you, don’t you?”

         “Hold this.” Daedalus said to Perdix, who took the tool awkwardly. “What is it?”

         “Er—A burnishing tool?” Perdix’ brow furrowed. “Why is it half melted?”

         “My guess is that he left it too close to the flames while doing something else. Now how do we fix it?”

“We can’t. It’d be too fragile if we tried to re—what about bone?”

   “What?” Daedalus asked, baffled.

   “Bone.” Perdix repeated, feeling more confident. “We used to use it on the farm when we worked with leather. Does a better job than metal doesn’t melt, and—”

    “Perdix.” Perdix stopped. “That’s a great idea.”

   The cobbler was sitting in front of the playpen when the two returned to the workshop. He glanced up, surprised, as they stared.

   “What are you doing?”

   “Making faces.” The cobbler responded. The staring continued.

   “What is he doing?” Daedalus pointed at the playpen.

   “Chewing on the bars. I don’t think he likes being confined.”

   “Is that safe?” Daedalus asked, alarmed.

   The cobbler shrugged. “He’s teething.” He stood and stretched, sighing as his back gave a couple audible pops. “He was no problem though. I miss when my youngest was that age.” He patted Daedalus’ shoulder. “I’m incredibly grateful to you and your oldest though for helping me on such last minute notice.”

“Perdix isn’t my son.” Daedalus swallowed tightly. “He’s my—my apprentice.” He placed a hand on Perdix’s shoulder. Perdix beamed at him, though his chest, previously swelling with pride, began to ache.

The cobbler gave Perdix the same farewell as Daedalus, a bonecruhing hug, before disappearing. Perdix unthinking, picked Icarus up, bouncing him absently as his cousin’s large, dark eyes stared at him.

Word spread quickly of the inventor and his apprentice over the following months. People would drop by, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of their creations. One invention, in particular, caught the eye some nobles.

A saw.

“What is this?” One of the nobles asked, amusedly prodding at the strange, jagged shape. The others snickered as he recoiled, yanking his fingers back and placing them in his mouth.

“That,” Perdix said. “Is a saw. Sharpened to cut through anything. It’ll do wonders for lumber workers.”

The man’s eyes sharpened at Perdix’s casual smile. “What do you want for it?”

Perdix thought of what Daedalus might say if he was there, how disapproving he’d be of these men as customers. Their disdain for the working class, the shine in their eyes as they bartered. Then he thought of his mother, and how little money she had to support the farm. She’d written to him just the week before, telling him she had to let go of their farm hand. After fifteen years of service and the current drought, his mother only thought of the effect on the farmhand and his family. She didn’t seem to care that she was starving.

But Perdix did.

Perdix leaned forward, his previously serene smile morphing into that of a shark’s.

   Daedalus returned to the small house where he, Perdix, and Icarus were staying. He cooed at the baby, who grabbed at his father’s nose.

   “Did you enjoy your bath, Icarus.” He tossed the giggling Icarus in the air lightly, catching him, then peppered his face with kisses.

   When they entered the room Perdix was sitting at the table in a daze.

   “Perdix?” Daedalus was getting concerned as Pedix failed to respond. Icarus poked Perdix in the cheek. He didn’t even flinch. “Perdix? Are you alright?” His body snapped into motion, standing.

   “I’m fine.��� Perdix said, carding a hand through his hair. “Can I—Can I talk to you outside?”

   The sea brushed against the cliffside, pushing and pulling a cool wind alongside it, buffering their hair. Daedalus simply waited, watching for his nephew to speak.

Then Perdix burst, unable to hold it in any longer.

“I got a job!”

“You—you got a job?” Every feature of his uncle fell slack in shock, looking as though he’d faint. “But what about your apprenticeship?”

“Don’t need it anymore.” Perdix shrugged, swinging his legs as he plopped down at the edge of the cliff. “I can make my own name now. I need—” Perdix stopped himself. “I can’t work for you for forever, uncle.”

Daedalus was quiet for a moment, then blew out a long sigh. “Do you think you’re ready?”

“They—Aegeus wants me to report to the palace court tomorrow morning.”

“As in—” Daedalus choked. “As in the king, Aegeus?”

Perdix’ head bobbed rapidly, a surge of excitement running through his veins at the thought. “Just think, a job working for the king at my age!”

Daedalus swallowed, his expression tightening. “What does he want you to do?” Perdix watched as a bird dove towards the water, droplets of water dripping from feathers and talons as it continued to maneuver. Just watching was starting to give him ideas…

“He wants me to start work on some new weapons.” Perdix rolled his shoulders absently. “Work on outfitting his army.” He missed the flash of horror spreading across his uncle’s face, his roaming fingers intent on finding a stray pebble to throw into the water.

“You don’t know how to make weapons! You—you’ll kill someone, sending soldiers out without proper equipment!” Perdix stood, disappointment etched into his features.

“Are you jealous, Daedalus? I thought you’d be happy for me.” He had to pack.  

“Perdix! Perdix wait—”

   Daedalus didn’t see Perdix for months. He heard the whispers of the young genius inhabiting the palace, the splendor of things he had made in demand by every citizen of Athens. At first the loss of business was slow, people trickling into the palace and away from Daedalus’ small workroom. Then came the time when people stopped coming in altogether.

   One of the few faithful customers that remained was the cobbler, who came knocking every few days to watch Icarus while the inventor was busy trying to make something—anything to sell.

   Peigi has sent him a message about a month ago, asking for him to come visit.

   “Icarus will be in good hands, Daedalus.” The cobbler said, waiting for Icarus, now almost a toddler, to return to a normal volume and skin color after an hour of screaming.

   Daedalus’ head throbbed, and he knew it wouldn’t end anytime soon, his nerves frayed.

   It took a little over a day before he arrived at Peigi’s farm.

   She had aged, strands of her hair now a dull gray, her eyes and cheeks lined with worry and tears.

   Her chair scraped backwards as she stood, embracing him tightly. He could feel her frailty beneath her chiton, and he hugged her bac, afraid he’d break her if he squeezed too hard.

   “Perdix told me of your argument months ago.” She handed him a cup, more water than wine. He thanked her and took a sip, hoping for the knots in his stomach to disappear. Or at least for her accusations to start and end quickly. “He always saw you as a father figure, not just an inspiration.” Daedalus went to speak but his sister stopped him. “I don’t care what happened.” Peigi said, sitting down with her own wine. “I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

   “What do you mean?”

   “He was sending me money months ago when the drought began. We—I couldn’t keep the farm going, and—” Peigi broke down, her cheeks streaming.

   “Why didn’t you tell me?” Daedalus asked gently, wiping her tears away.

“I thought—the farm was doing better at first, but then—” She broke off. “I wasn’t going to put your family in trouble. I know you were saving—”

   “For Naucrate.” Daedalus tried not to think of her, and tried to focus as Peigi, his strong, rock of a sister, began to crumble. “You need me right now, Peigi. Naucrate would understand. Let me help.” Daedalus couldn’t bring himself to be mad.

That was until Peigi continued.

“Perdix hasn’t sent me anything for weeks now. I don’t care about the money now, but—we always talk—” Peigi began to babble uncontrollably. To stop her from crying again, Daedalus kissed her each of her cheeks in turn.

   “I will take care of you, Peigi.”

   Perdix sat in his room, watching as his latest clients were sent running. Instead, a small group of nobles entered the room, having pushed past the throng and threatened the peasantry with force.

His original buyers.

   “Do you have anything for us?” Perdix rolled his eyes. They only wanted to show off their wealth, and have the latest one of a kind object before the masses did. Just as they wanted his saw, they wanted the next object once the novelty wore off. They cycle never stopped.

   “Not yet,” Perdix stretched, letting his limbs settle loosely in his chair. “I just finished the weapons shipment for the army, but now Aegeus wants me to tend to the army in person.” He frowned. “Minos is stirring up trouble apparently.”

One of the nobles rolled their eyes with a snort. The others simply made themselves comfortable, pouring themselves some wine and swiping his untouched lunch.  

   “The king of that tiny island? Please, what can he do?”

   “You’d be surprised.” One of his companions chimed in. “He’s got a decent navy, though his men can’t compare to Athens’ army. Not when our man Perdix is supplying, right?” He smiled at Perdix, who smiled back.

   “Right…”

   At least he hoped it was a smile.

   Perdix spent the night going over his designs, over the old armor and his planned modifications. He was still wide awake when the king sent him to be shipped out, to fit the men with their new gear.

   The first few days sped by, and Perdix was as thrilled as he was exhausted. He joked with the men, who clapped each other on the back and admired their new armor. They examined their swords by the firelight, almost excited to go to war, some for the first time in their lives.

   It felt like a blow to the chest when they lost.

   Perdix sat on the clifftop, his back to the temple of Athena. Praying had done nothing, had given him no ideas or closure. He bought and sacrificed the best animals he could find, but still, nothing helped.

   The wind blew as dusk approached, stinging his eyes. Perdix didn’t even turn as Daedalus sat next to him, as silent and watchful as ever. It reminded him of Icarus, and the lump in Perdix throat grew.

    “Athens army is not doing very well, uncle.

“Why? Daedalus’ voice was bitter. “They have your weapons do they not?”

“Yes but—” Perdix stopped. “At first I thought it was just the older men, the veterans being tetchy about their new gear. Angry at change, you know?” He swallowed. “Then—then when battle came—It was like we couldn’t fight back.

“Then fix it.”

“I can’t.” Perdix’s eyes burned with tears, his head filled with images of the men he had grown to call friends strewn across the ground— “I need your help, uncle.” He whispered. “Please?”

Daedalus sighed. “Very well.”

Perdix watched his uncle, whirling about like hurricane, melting and scrapping and molding, fitting each man in turn, not letting them go until they, and he, was happy with the result.

It took only four days for him to finish what had taken Perdix weeks.

The next battle came and Athens won.

Perdix took to fetching supplies and helping the medical tent, unable to look Daedalus in the eye. He told a small group of men, previously his assistants, to attend to his uncle and help in any way they could.

As they won the next battle down the coast, and the following managing to drive then Minoans from the city, Perdix gathered his courage, and returned to his tent to apologize.

He entered to find the assistants in a panic and Daedalus on the floor and covered in blood. A heavy container pinned his leg, twisting it as Daedalus, gasping and sweaty, barely conscious, tried feebly to free himself.

Perdix waited in the medical tent, wringing his hands, waiting for news. The healer, with a wan expression, approached. Perdix tried not to look down as the man wiped his hands, still covered in Daedalus’ blood.

“Is he—Is he going to be okay?”

“If you’re asking if he will live, the answer is yes.” The healer scrubbed at his eyes, sighing. “But his leg is damaged. You can’t see it now, but a few years ago, I treated Daedalus for a battle injury during his time as a soldier. It left a deep scar, and somehow, despite our belief, he bounced back, walking almost perfectly after a few months of bed rest and practice.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know.” Said the healer. “Miracles don’t often happen twice. It’s likely that he won’t regain mobility in that leg ever again.”

Perdix left the field early the next day. He had to prepare a place for Daedalu to stay, and as the inventor staunchly refused to stay in the palace (in between murmurs about Naucrate), the only place left was Daedalus’ small house.  

Perdix arrives, arms full of bedding he had gathered from his rooms in the palace. He was greeted by Icarus, now about the age of four, who stared at him distrustfully, eyes devoid of recognition. Perdix didn’t want to admit how much his heart hurt when he opened his arms for a hug and his cousin ran, hiding. Arms falling, Perdix sighed, and began to prepare the house for Daedalus’ arrival.

The cobbler, Perdix was surprised to find, had offered Daedalus a place in his home, but there was little more room there than the other house. He and his wife at least promised to help with cooking, so that was one less burden.

    The only thing left to do was clean the workshop.

    The small space was crammed with half completed ideas, frustrated bits of metal thrown this way and that. Any sketches to be found were ash, burned by Daedalus as the ideas refused to cooperate. As Perdix worked to open the room up with air, he knew he missed this. He missed his uncle, the maniac genius. He missed ideas for inventions spinning in their heads as they stayed awake through the night. He missed playing with Icarus, chasing his little cousin through the market as he learned how to walk first, then run. Perdix missed his mother. He hadn’t sent a message to her in months, too busy and too scattered with the king’s demands to remember. He promised himself, once Daedalus could walk again, that he would go see her, and bring her the finest objects he had ever made, just for her.

Daedalus wasn’t healing. Not as fast as Perdix had hoped. His uncle refused to speak, refused to meet his eyes, refused to eat.

Refused to do anything.

Perdix stared at Athena’s temple, then turned towards the sea. Sitting by the cliffside, he hugged his knees, exhausted from trying to keep everything together. He could barely hold himself together. He buried his face, sniffling as the sky darkened.

How did everything go so wrong?

Perdix heard a grunt behind him and turned. Daedalus, straining his one good leg to move, fell to the ground. Perdix tried to help him up but Daedalus slapped his hands away leaving the inventor, breathing heavily, to struggle to his knees.

“I’m sorry, Daedalus.” Perdix bit back a flinch as Daedalus glared through the hair in his eyes.

“Sorry doesn’t fix my leg.”

    “If the assistants—”

“That’s just the thing, Perdix.” Daedalus interrupted, heaving himself into a sitting position. “They were assistants. What happens when an assistant doesn’t do their job properly?”

“They get hurt.” Perdix was confused at the sudden question. “But why—?”

“Does this matter?” Daedalus gave a bark of humorless laughter. “Well, nephew mine, you were my apprentice, my assistant. You killed those soldiers and my leg damaged beyond repair.”

“But I—"

“You didn’t mean to?” Daedalus voice was deceptively soft. “Oh, Perdix, how many times can you cry?”

         “Daedalus—”

         “Over and over you cry for me to help you, to fix your mistakes. You cry for attention, for respect you have not earned—”

“Daedalus be reasonable.” Perdix had to hold himself back from touching his uncle, from comforting him. “You are not well, you—you have a fever—”

“Your mother wanted the best for you. She wanted you to make her proud.” Daedalus’ voice was cold now, uncaring of the steady, hot tears streaming down Perdix’s face. Perdix almost wished he would scream or shout, anything to stop the awful feeling swelling in his chest. “She died not long before you sent those men to their deaths. She died before you could bring her shame.”

Perdix’s could have swore he felt his heart stop.

His mother—the world spun, even as he dug his fingers into the earth, hoping for solidity.

He couldn’t remember the last words he said to her.

Daedalus’ face swam in and out of view, as pale as the moon glittering across the sea.

    “You may be my sister’s son, but you are not mine.”

    Perdix broke. He could feel nothing, inside or out, until Daedalus’ cold hands reached for his throat.

“Uncle,” Perdix rasped, a last effort to live, to find something. “Please—”

    His uncle, his idol, his father, with each muscle straining, pushed Perdix, limp, off the cliff.

    Perdix could see no bottom, could see nothing but the darkness and the moon. He didn’t know when he would hit the sea, or if he would be alive to feel the waves hit him back. Eyes clenched shut, he waited.

He never touched the water. Any screams he may have had died in his throat, replaced with constricted shrieks. His arms, helpless against the wind as he fell, began to lift him as each hair on his arm elongated into broad, brown feathers.

    Gliding across the sea, he made his way to the beach.

    And Perdix, now the Partridge, blinked up at the temple, high up on the cliffside. He did not see how the eyes of Athena within, as cold as the marble she was carved from, glinted in the dark.

    Daedalus lay at the cliffside for a long while, his body shaking with pain. It took him a while, slipping through the grass, to brace himself enough to crawl back home. The sky had just started to lighten when he made it back to the house, leaning against the doorframe as he tried to catch his breath.

Once he managed to get inside he found Icarus, awake and waiting. Trembling, crusted with dirt, Daedalus pulled the child into a hug.  

“What’s wrong?

Icarus’ eyes burned into him, so very bright and questioning. Just as Perdix’s had been.

Daedalus cried.

Alrighty! I do hope you all enjoyed this, and as always, if You’d like to request a retelling written and dedicated to you, send me a message. A word, an emoji, an idea, is all I need! 

Peeps that have shown interest in the past in being tagged (lemme know if you wanna be added/removed! Or if I forgot to add someone, cause that could happen...)

@ahotpeaceofshit @the-real-rg @luckydragonnerd @ashesconstellation @couchwriting @ashes-of-chironides @tokyoghoulua @writingmyselfintoanearlygrave @lmorasey @rmorada @xanthus-the-headless-stand-user @splotch-of-spice @cometworks @thecadmiuminkwell @mkaiww @pheita @demonfairyprincess @tatodapato @talesofhemlock @aquaroseas 

I think I remembered everybody? I actually haven’t been on tumblr for like an actual month (I queued stuff a while ago cause I actually figured out how the queue worked)

[uwmspeccoll]

A Yuletide Feathursday

During this Christmastide and on the last #Feathursday of the year, it seems appropriate to end 2021 not with a partridge in a pear tree, but rather with a couple of partridges in a woodpile! The pair shown here are a couple of Red-legged Partridges (Alectoris rufa) as painted by British bird artist Terance James Bond, and reproduced in his 1988 book Birds, The Paintings of Terance James Bond, published in Cambridge, England, by the Lutterworth Press.

The Red-legged Partridge is a continental bird that was permanently introduced into Great Britain as a gamebird in the 18th century, and is often referred to in Britain as the “French Partridge” or the “Frenchman” to distinguish it from the slightly smaller Grey or English Partridge (Perdix perdix) that is native to both the islands and the continent. Bond writes:

Despite the brilliant colouring and very handsome appearance of the Red-legged Partridge, it is extremely difficult to see against a background of arable farmland or autumn leaves. On more than one occasion I have very nearly suffered a minor heart attack as a pair of birds, that had been dust-bathing by this very log pile, exploded away in a whirr of wings from my feet as I walked through the meadow.

We are also quite enamored of Bond’s depiction of the woodpile. Be sure to click on the images to see the exquisite details in the renderings.

View more posts with paintings by Terance James Bond.

View more Feathursday posts.

[sadoeuphemist]

hey! i’m not really sure if you take requests, but i really love the way you paint things in a different light. so if it’s not any trouble and you find him interesting, can i ask for your take on icarus and the sun?

Three Lesser-Known Details from Ovid:

1.

Ovid writes that as Daedalus labored on the wings, Icarus chased after stray feathers floating on the passing breeze, heedless to all danger, stuck his thumb into the yellow wax and undid his father’s delicate work. He did not understand why his father was afraid, how precarious the journey ahead of them, why the old man spoke so anxiously. The boy’s eyes drifted away, after the feathers, upwards to the dazzling sky.

When Daedalus strapped his son into the wings, his withered cheeks were wet with tears.

2.

Daedalus had thrown a child to their death before: his nephew Perdix. The boy had been instinctively, effortlessly brilliant, and Daedalus had been filled with a furious inadequacy. But Athena, goddess of ingenious men, had intervened mid-fall to transform all the vigor of the boy’s brilliance into flight. His nephew was gone. Only the partridge remained, squat and canny and cautious, nesting low in the brush, never again daring to venture to such perilous heights.

Daedalus looked down from the cliff into the roaring waves, heavy with his sin, and knew that no such miracle awaited them.

3.

Daedalus warned his son not to let his gaze drift upward, towards Ursa Major and Bootes, and Orion’s sword raised radiant in the stars — so we know that they set off at night. They might have - theoretically - flown for hours without fear of sun, flown higher still to evade the dawn, flown for hours more before the sun rose above them.

Daedalus might have taught his son better, then: warned him instead to not let up the beating of his makeshift wings, not to drop too low lest the moisture of the sea air weigh down the feathers, not to look down into the black and merciless sea.

But instead, he held his son with trembling arms and warned Icarus of the sun — as if the heavens above them were boundless and unfettered; as if their waxen wings might have carried them past the stars to see the golden glory of the sun; as if his child might have flown, brilliantly and pridefully and as naturally as a feather on the breeze, and only fallen from daring to soar too high.

[bbq-hawks-wings]

If your interested, I also mentioned that Apollo was the god of oracles and prophecy. And there was that prophecy about Endeavor bringing everyone's demise in the form of Dabi :) even if he wasn't mentioned by name, we know he's the 'darkness' Endeavor's light will summon. And to fit in with that more, Dabi killing Endeavor will erase him from the narrative, which is like the dreams he was having.

(Continued) If Dabi = Apollo, and to Apollo, Hawks were his messenger birds then hmm whatdya think? *nudge nudge* He! Knows! The! Thing! Horikoshi is probably mixing a lot of stories. Someone once wrote that Icarus fell all the way down to Tartarus, but I can't find any source for that. We know he drowned at sea, but is there anything written on what happened after in detail or is that it? I'd also like to mention, while we're on the topic of myths.

(Continuing) Hawks' eyes are similar to the eyes of Horus/Ra are they not? His eyes are a big deal in the manga, and Ra is known as 'The Hidden One' Now we know Hawks is always hiding himself behind his feathers, there's at least three specific panels of him doing that. The MOST INTERESTING part is that Ra has many names, and one is secret, because knowing that would mean having power over him. (Applies to Dabi too in a way tbh.) but! We're thinking of Keigo Takami here ;)

(Last part) And Dabi held the power over him when he shouted it out and made Hawks lose his cool there. Bonus: Horus lost his left eye in a war with Set, and Dabi's foot was on Hawks' left eye and burned it. - anon from Foxy's tags.

I am VERY interested in the extended/multiple myth angle, particularly in regards to Hawks, Foxy anon. (Thanks for dropping by to talk, btw.) I've read everything over that you've sent, and if it's okay, I'd like to review your thoughts and chime in at the end with my own. I'm going to do it under the cut, though, because this is going to get long. Lol

I absolutely agree with you that Dabi is likely either a front-runner or the main agent of darkness summoned by Endeavor's light. The concept of the prophecy was introduced in canon, and I don't doubt Horikoshi plans to explicitly bring it up again. Considering Dabi's supposed dark connections to Endeavor's past he's a prime candidate to knock Endeavor out of the sky. When you combine this with the fact that Dabi's hair is black while Touya's appears to be snow white with the character for "light" spelled out in his name, it's hard to believe Dabi won't have some major role to play in this prophecy. The thematic idea that Apollo/Touya, as this more symbolic role than anything, in the background gives Hawks this prophecy to pass on about the incoming darkness is also not unlikely.

I'm not so sure the Hawks = Horus-Ra angle tracks as cleanly, though. Still, I'll follow your thought process first and give it the benefit of the doubt when discussing it before adding my thoughts. I'll be referring to Horus and Ra as the same entity as from my cursory research they were occasionally combined into the same deity and both share some nominal similarities with Hawks. Please also note Egyptian mythology is not my strong suit, and it has its own complexities I'm unfamiliar with. I'm only working with what I know and can research on the surface.

The note about his eyes are fascinating considering the fact that the Eye of Horus and the Eye of Ra are both major, destinct parts of the Egyptian mythology as well as having their own separate symbolic meanings and power - The right Eye of Ra representing the sun and having associations with aggression and destruction while the left Eye of Horus, representing the moon, was associated with healing, sacrifice, protection and wisdom - even being referred to as "the all-seeing eye."

Yet as potentially rich and interesting this angle is, I'm not entirely sure it's close enough to canon to stick.

My first objection starts with his proposed equivalence to Ra who is considered king of the gods and creator of all things as well as the personification of the sun itself. Imo, this is just too lofty of a position to accurately attribute to Hawks. Despite losing the sweet "bird of prey" aesthetic, I think Thoth would probably be a better fit as the god of the moon and writing, particularly as he restores the Eye of Horus. There's also the issue of which eye is burned and the significance of them - seeing as Hawks' left eye was burned, which according to this theory would be the Eye of Horus, it would make more sense for this to read as Hawks losing his motivation to work for those more selfless, positive qualities that up to this point have defined his character and leave only the Eye of Ra, the more destructive and violent tendencies, to reign unless some other character embodying Thoth restored it for him.

This premise of the right and left eyes on its own is positively dope and has a Shonen series begging to be made of it. However, I find it too far removed from the proven inspiration of HeroAca so far to be much more than a neat thought exercise for our purposes today. At least for the moment it would make sense to stick closer to the Greco-Roman angle we have at the moment, especially considering how closely tied together Dabi, Endeavor, and Hawks canonically are. If the Icarus story is meant to be the case as well and we wanted to flesh out Hawks individually more, I could see an angle that keeps the bird motif as well as the consequences of Daedalus/Endeavor's hubris directly impacting him as well.

Nevertheless, with the Egyptian aspect set to the side for now and sticking to our speculation around the Icarus myth for the moment, I'd like to posit that if Horikoshi is actually intending to take the larger mythos around Daedalus to explain the dynamics of these characters Hawks will be playing the role of one or two myths outside of merely acting as Dabi/Icarus' tattered wings. It requires some creative liberties to work; but nothing I'd consider too outside the realm of reason to break it.

Long before the tower, and even the birth of Icarus himself, Daedalus had an apprentice - either Talos or Perdix depending on the source. This apprentice was brilliant - even more so than Daedalus himself - and looked up to him to emulate him in his admiration of him. Though in this myth Daedalus commits the upcoming crime himself out of jealousy of his apprentice, if we tweaked it to mean "due to Daedalus' jealousy, Talos/Perdix was pushed out of a tower to his demise" the angle still works depending on the direction the manga takes. Athena - goddess of wisdom, and interesting in the context of HeroAca, the clever, noble, and positive aspect of war - looked on Talos/Perdix with favor and before he could be killed by the fall was transformed into a partridge who, remembering his past life, never soared or climbed to high places again and only nests close to the ground.

Like the other roles it's a stretch, and we really don't have enough canon material to work with to prove it either way, but a couple of notes in particular gives this theory enough merit for me to keep tucked in the back of my head as we go on.

A more direct, cause and effect relationship with Endeavor should he actually be playing the role of Daedalus.

The specific note of admiration and subsequent betrayal leading to the younger's downfall due to the previously unknown envy of the older.

If this myth pertains to events that have already happened in the manga (i.e. the fall of Talos/Perdix was Hawks' "adoption" by the HPSC) the low-dwelling partridge transformation fits not only because of Hawks' humble and wary nature but because of the symbolic blessing of Athena in particular being the catalyst for the change.

If this is meant to be indicative of events that will happen in the future (Hawks' burned wings, the epiphany about Endeavor, etc) it still works whether Hawks gets his wings back or not. In the case he doesn't he will be a grounded bird, though far from useless and still radiant; and if he does it leaves open the opportunity to squeeze in another myth - that of the Phoenix - instead of the partridge which ties in much more strongly with the theme of transformation and rebirth while keeping with the bird motif as well as ties in Endeavor's personal trademark of fire. This second ending also has the potential to work thematically whether Hawks forgives Endeavor or not depending on the interpretation - the Phoenix rises again reborn despite the fire, or the fire itself gives the Phoenix new life to soar again.

In this case, both Perdix and Icarus fall from high towers due to Daedalus' hubris - the first lured there out of false pretense through no fault of his own and the second out of desperation and even mania to escape and live his own life; but notably, while Icarus loses his wings and falls to his doom, Perdix reaches the ground safely and continues on to live on transformed as a new being.

Again, this is all speculation, and Horikoshi can crush our dreams completely with a single chapter release, but the thought experiment is fun even if I wasn't sure every myth brought up quite works with the canon revealed to us so far, and I get the added bonus of learning about new mythologies I might otherwise not have looked into myself.

Thanks for dropping these in my inbox, anon! I know I may have shot down the Egyptian myth part a bit in regards to fitting with canon, but your points make for killer AU potential! Are there any other characters you see as having parallels to Egyptian gods - other AUs I’ve seen have given Dabi the role of Anubis, for example? I'd love to hear more!

[princess-altalun]

~Short bit of writing No. 1~

“Make haste!”

The woman leaned forward, the salty air rushing through her short hair as the endless ocean sprawled out before her. She could taste the salt, feel the heat of the sun, far too much for any of those not born out on the planet, un creatively called Oceania.

“I see one of them!” She grinned, noticing that familiar splash of foamy water, the flash of silver fins. “Make haste, I say! We’ve almost got it!”

It was unsurprising that many assumed the captain of the SS Adalanta a bit mad, but she knew she wasn’t. Those creatures with their slippery fins and slender bodies could only hide from her sharp eyes for so long.

Standing on the actual deck of the ship, rather than the very edge was Captain Andromeda’s first mate, called Icarus. Clearly, old names like those had come back into popularity. Icarus himself could never say why, he found them quite long and bothersome. Hence why he called himself Carus and Captain Andromeda simply Mida.

Turning toward the rest of the crew, all other close friends of the captain, Carus lifted a shoulder. “You heard her,” he said. “Make haste, I suppose.”

He could hear Mida still at the front and the volume of her voice made him cringe. “You can’t escape me this time, Silver! We’re right on top of you now!” Followed, of course, by that cackle of a laugh she had.

One of the rowers, Perdix, sighed deeply, rubbing his temples, before grabbing ahold of his ore once again. “Shanty?” He asked.

The rower opposite him, Perseus, nodded, cracking his knuckles, before taking ahold of his own ore. He began the song with a long note, his voice gruff and husky.

As the crew began to sing, Mida cackled again, leaning forward. Her boots squeaked as she slid along the long spike protruding from the front of her ship. “Faster! Sing faster!”

And they did, for what else could they do? Deny the captain’s orders? Certainly not. The last time someone had done that, the perpetrator, Cassiopeia, or simply Cassy, had been made to sit in the brig for the rest of the evening. Carus couldn’t lie, the whole crew loved Mida. She was just a bit... out of it.

As one song came to a close, another began before Mida could shout once more. She continued to inch forward as the ship rocked. The silver fin was so close now. She might reach out and grasp it. She squinted, blinking salty, steaming drops from her eyes as she continued crawling along the spike.

“Carus?”

The first mate looked up from where his eyes had been fixed, on the many scars criss crossing his gnarled hands. One of the rowers in the back, Hestia, was pointing frantically forward, a look of pure terror in her doll like eyes.

Carus turned quickly, his face dropping at the sight of Mida, dangling upside down off the very edge of the ship’s spike. Any wrong move, a bit too much rocking, the slip of a finger, and she’d fall in and likely be crushed by the Adalanta.

“Mida,” he called. “What in the sea’s great name are you doing?”

“I just need to get a little closer, keep going!” Mida called, one hand outstretched to grab something Carus couldn’t see. She looked desperate for it, like it would complete her life once she got her own calloused hands on it.

“Captain!” Perdix called out. “That’s dangerous! Be careful!”

“I said get me closer!”

Carus dragged a hand through his sunny gold hair, squeezing his eyes shut a moment at the sight. He wanted to tell her no, say she was crazy, drag her back onto the deck, kicking and screaming by the hair if he had to.

But, of course, he couldn’t.

Nobody, nobody in all the galaxy could possibly tame that woman, nobody. Especially not him or the rest of the crew. He looked helplessly back to the rowers. To Perdix and Perseus, to Hestia and the still silent Penelope.

“Make haste.”

And they did. All of them, knowing what he meant, they all grinned and bore it, pushing themselves harder, harder, harder. When Carus heard a splash and a cry, he was quick to assume the worst.

Whirling back toward the front though, he found something unexpected. Mida was laughing as loud as ever, though she barely held on by her crossed legs. She was holding tight to something, her face split in an almost frightening grin.

“Carus, Cassy!” She hollered. “Pull me in! I’ve got it!”

Carus hurried back to the opposite side of the ship, grabbing the mostly unaware Cassy by the wrist to roughly pull her to the front.

“Oi,” she huffed. “I was read...” Her voice trailed off at the sight. “Never mind.”

With quick hands, Cassy and Carus managed to haul the captain back onto the ship. She gripped something silver in one hand. It seemed to struggle and snap at her and Carus could see what looked like tiny teeth prints on her hand, but she didn’t seem to notice, raising the odd creature triumphantly over her head.

“What in all the known worlds is that?” Cassy asked, staring, open mouthed, at the silver creature.

Mida grinned that same grin at the petite blonde woman, hardly moving at all. “It’s a fish,” she said simply. “A fish living in the sea of a world everyone on Old Earth thought was uninhabitable. But I proved them wrong, I did!”

Cassy and Carus stared at one another, wearing identical expressions of shock.

“Wait, hold on,” said Perdix, slowing down his rowing and signaling for the others to do the same. “You’re telling me...”

“Cap was right for once,” commented Penelope, rubbing her wrists. “Well, Mida?” She asked expectantly. “What can it do?”

Mida looked so confident then, her grin never faltering, never falling, never changing as she turned it on each member of her crew.

“I have no idea!”

[faridahmalik]

anemone, gardenia, lily, rose

anemone: how old were you when you first started writing?

This is a hard one, tbh, orally, I’d say since I was five I’ve done storytelling with my older sib. In late elem, like maybe 8-10, I wrote fic to give me something nice to deal with crippling loneliness. 

gardenia: what is the setting in which you write best?

Frankly, while I’m suppose to be doing something else. Hahaha. 

lily: do you listen to music when you write? if so, do you have a specific playlist for it?

Depends! Some stories are inspired by songs, others don’t need a soundtrack cause I can’t hear myself. 

rose: which of your works is your favorite? why?

Hooooooo boy. I’m gonna go with things that are published, though I have some really good tear jerking things I’ve written with others that have made me cry months later, but out of the published, it honestly might be breaking point? Then Tpop (and somewhat Perdix but it badly needs a rewrite and me to replay dxhr.) But Breaking Point I feel like is kind of my hidden gem of the drabbles? Which I have a second part to, that i need to finish. But part 14 of tpop is next to it, so many good emotionally heavy scenes. 

[musingcompany]

hello, world!! as always, I come back with the most random resources in the world. this time I’m presenting you all a list of #225 latin words/saying that can be used as tags, slogans (admins!!) and whatever else you find this useful for. if you guys want it in any other language, just let me know because I love words. hope y’all find this useful!

1. ab incunabulis: from the cradle 2. a bon chat, bon rat: to a good cat, a good rat (retaliation in kind) 3. a bouch ouverte: with open mouth (eagerly, uncritically) 4. ab ovo usque ad mala: from egg to apples (from beginning to end) 5. a bras ouverts: with open arms 6. ab uno disce omnes: from one learn to know all 7. a coup sur: with sure stroke (surely) 8. acte gratuit: gratuitous impulsive act 9. ad arbitrium: at will (arbitrarily) 10. ad extremum: to the extreme (at last) 11. ad majorem Dei gloriam: to the greater glory of God 12. ad patres: to his fathers (deceased) 13. ad unguem: to the fingernail (exactly) 14. ad utrumque paratus: prepared for either event 15. aegri somnia: a sick man’s dreams 16. aequam servare mentem: to preserve a calm mind 17. aequo animo: with even mind (calmly) 18. aere perennius: more lasting than bronze 19. a huis clos: with closed doors 20. a l’abandon: carelessly 21. a la belle etoile: under the beautiful star (in the open air at night) 22. a la bonne heure: at a good time (all right) 23. a la page: at the page (up to the minute) 24. alter idem: another self 25. a maximis ad minima: from the greatest to the least 26. a marveille: marvelously 27. amicus humani generis: friend of the human race 28. amicus usque ad aras: a friend as far as to the alters (a friend to the last extremity) 29. ami de cour: court friend 30. armamentum ad baculum: argument of the staff (appeal to force) 31. arrectis auribus: with ears pricked up 32. a torte et a travers: wrong and crosswise (without rhyme or reason) 33. au bout de son latin: at the end of one’s Latin (at the end of one’s mental resources) 34. au fait: to the point (socially correct) 35. au grand serieux: in all serious 36. au mieux: on the best terms (on intimate terms) 37. aurea mediocritas: the golden mean 38. auspicium melioris aevi: an omen of a better age 39. ausssitot dit, aussitot fait: no sooner said than done 40. autres temps, autres moeurs: other times, other customs 41. aut vincere aut mori: either to conquer or to die 42. bellum omnium contra onnes: war of all against all 43. bien-pensant: right minded (orthodox) 44. bon gre, mal gre: whether with good grace or bad (willy-nilly) 45. bonis avibus: under good auspices 45. brutum fulmen: insensible thunderbolt (futile threat of display of force) 47. cadit quaestio: the question drops (the argument collapses) 48. capable de tout: capable of anything (unpredictable) 49. cause sine qua non: an indispensable cause or condition 50. cheval de bataille: war-horse (argument constantly relied on) 51. comedie humaine: human comedy (the whole variety of human life) 52. comedie larmoyante: tearful comedy (sentimental comedy) 53. comagnon de voyage: traveling companion 54. compte rendu: report 55. concordia discors: discordant harmony 56. confessio fidei: confession of faith 57. contemptus mundi: contempt for the world 58. coup de maitre: masterstroke 59. coup d’essai: experiment 60. coute que coute: cost what it may 61. cri de coeur: cry of the heart 62. crise de conscience: crisis of conscience 63. crise de nerfs: crisis of nerves 64. crux criticorum: crux of critics 65. cum grano salis: with a grain of salt 66. custos morum: guardian of morals (censor) 67. de bonne grice: with good grace 68. de l’audace, encore de l’audace, et toujours de l’audace: audacity, more audacity, and ever more audacity 69. de mal en pis: from bad to worse 70. Deo favente: with God’s favor 71. de profundis: out of the depths 72. desipere in loco: to indulge in trifling at the proper time 73. Deus absconditus: hidden God (unknowable God) 74. dies faustus: lucky day 75. dies infaustus: unlucky day 76. dies irae: day of wrath 77. esprit d’le escalier: the wit of the staircase 78. faux bonhomme: false friend 79. faux-naif: affectedly simple or childlike 80. festina lente: make haste slowly 81. feux d’artifice: fireworks, or show of wit 82. folie de grandeur: delusion of greatness, megalomania 83. furor loquendi: rage for speaking 84. furor poeticus: rage for poetry 85. furor scribendi: rage for writing 86. gens du mond: fashionable people 87. guerre a outrance: war to the uttermost 88. haut gout: slight taint of decay 89. hic illae lacrimae: hence these tears 90. homme d’esprit: witty man 91. in omnia paratus: ready for all things 92. in partibus infidelium: in the land of the infidels 93. in statu quo ante bellum: just like before the war 94. januis clausis: behind closed doors 95. jeu de mots: play on words 96. ktema es ai: a possession for ever (enduring art or literature) 97. la belle dame sans merci: the beautiful lady without mercy 98. lacrimae rerum: tragedy of life 99. lapsus calami: slip of the pen 100. lapsus linguae: slip of the tongue 101. laudatory temporis acti: one who praises past times 102. lusis naturae: freak of nature 103. magni nominis umbra: the shadow of a great name 104. malade imaginaire: imaginary invalid 105. malis avibus: under evil auspices 106. mauvais quart d’heure: uncomfortable but brief experience 107. meden agen: nothing in excess 108. mens sana in corpore sano: a sound mind in a sound body 109. metteur et scene: (stage or film) director 110. meum et tuem: mine and yours 111. mirabile visu: wonderful to behold 112. mole ruit sua: it collapses from its own size 113. monumentum aere perennius: a monument more lasting than bronze 114. multum in parvo: much in little 115. mysterium tremendum: overwhelming mystery 116. ne quid nimis: not anything in excess 117. nil admirari: equanimity 118. nolens volens: willy-nilly 119. nostalgie de la boue: attraction to what is unworthy, crude, or degrading 120. novus homo: upstart 121. novus ordo seclorum: a new cycle of the ages 122. nuit blanche: sleepless night 123. obscurum per obscurius: explaining the obscure by means of the more obscure 124. onus probandi: burden of proof 125. ore rotundo: eloquently 126. otium cum dignitate: leisure with dignity 127. outre-mer: overseas 128. pallida Mors: pale Death 129. panem et circenses: bread and circuses 130. pater patriae: father of his country 131. paucis verbis: in a few words 132. pax vobiscum: peace be with you 133. peine forte et dure: strong and hard punishment 134. per angusta ad augusta: through difficulties to honors 135. peu a peu: little by little 136. peu de chose: a trifle 137. peu d’occasion: piece for a special occasion 138. piece justificative: document serving as evidence 139. piece montee: set piece (said of decorative food) 140. pleno jure: with full right 141. plus royaliste que le roi: more royalist than the king 142. pocas palabras: few words 143. point de repere: point of reference 144. police verso: with thumb turned (down) 145. pour rire: for laughing (not to be taken seriously) 146. pro aris et focis: for alters and firesides 147. pro bono publico: for the public good 148. pro hac vice: for this occasion 149. pro patria: for one’s country 150. pro rege, lege, et grege: for the king, the law, and the people 151. pro re nata: as needed 152. quantum mutates ab illo: how changed from what he once was 153. quantum sufficit: as much as suffices 154. quoad hoc: to this extent 155. quod erat demonstrandum: which was to be proved 156. quod erat faciendum: which was to be done 157. quod semper, quod ubique, quo dab omnibus: what (has been held) always, everywhere, by everybody 158. quorum pars magna fui: in which I played a great part 159. raison d’etat: reason of state 160. reculer pour mieux sauter: to draw back in order to make a better jump 161. re infecta: the beusiness being unfinished 162. religio loci: religious sanctity of a place 163. ruse de guerre: war strategem 164. rus in urbe: country in the city 165. saeva indignatio: fierce indignation 166. sal Atticum: Attic salt (wit) 167. salon des refuses: salon of the refused (exhibition of officially rejected art) 168. salto mortale: deadly jump (dangerous or crucial undertaking) 169. sancta simplicitas: holy simplicity (naivete) 170. sans doute: without doubt 171. sans gene: without embarrassment or constraint 172. sans peur et sans reproche: without fear and without reproach 173. sans souci: without worry 174. scene a faire: obligatory scene 175. secundum artem: according to the art (according to the accepted practice) 176. secundum naturam: according to nature (naturally) 177. se defendendo: in self-defense 178. semper eadem: always the same (feminine form) 179. semper fidelis: always faithful 180. semper idem: always the same (masculine form) 181. semper paratus: always prepared 182. simpliste: naive 183. splendide mendax: nobly untruthful 184. spolia opima: rich spoils (spoils of the victor) 185. status quo ante bellum: the state existing before the war 186. suaviter in modo, fortiter in re: gently in manner, strongly in deed 187. suo jure: in his own right 188. suo loco: inits proper palce 189. suo marte: by one’s own exertions 190. sur place: in place (on the spot) 191. suum cuique: to each his own 192. tant mieux: so much the better 193. tant pis: so much the worse (too bad) 194. tempus edax rerum: time, that devours all things 195. totidem verbis:: in so many words 196. totis viribus: with all one’s might 197. toto caelo: by the whole extenet of the heavens 198. toujour perdix: always partridge (too much of a good thing) 199. tour d’horizon: circuit of the horizon (general survey) 200. tous frais faits: all expenses defrayed 201. taut au contraire: quite the contrary 202. tout a vous: wholly yours (at your service) 203. tout bien ou rien: everything well (done) or nothing (attempted) 204. tout court: quite short (simply) 205. tout de meme: all the same (nevertheless) 206. tout de suite: Immediately 207. tout ensemble: all together 208. tout le monde: everybody 209. trahison de clercs: treason of the intellectuals 210. tanche de vie: slice of life 211. tristesse: melancholy 212. ultima ratio regum: the final argument of kings (war) 213. uno animo: with one mind 214. urbi et orbi: to the city and the world (to everyone) 215. utile dulci: the useful with the agreeable 216. va et vient: coming and going (traffic) 217. ventre a terre: belly to the ground (at very great speed) 218. verbatim ac litteratim: word for word, and letter for letter 219. vieux jeu: old game (old hat) 220. vin du pays: wine of the locality 221. virgo intacta: untouched virgin 222. virtute et armis: by valor of arms 223. vis medicatrix natureae: the healing power of nature 224. vita nuova: new life 225. vox et praeterea nihil: voice and nothing more

[the-fallofperdix]

Co-written with Flight_of_Icarus on AO3. For a prompt by @thecitylightshow. Find it here! ~~~

His madre was always right.

Always.

It scared him, seeing her stare into the distance sometimes, the soft hissing of snakes floating through the air...even though he had never ever seen a snake. She’d always come back to herself quickly, her eyes losing the glazed look. She would call him paidí mou and wrap him up in a hug.

He didn’t really realize it at first, just accepted that it happened with his madre, and that it was their little secret.

He didn’t even tell Jarvis.

When Tony was six, Tony asked “What did you See?”.

Even though….he didn’t really understand why he asked that. Maria merely smoothed a hand down his cheek and said that the tree in the back would crush the shed in the storm tomorrow.

She was right.

Tony went to find her, found her drinking wine off the balcony, staring down at the massive tree that had smashed through the shed, sending wood everywhere across the once pristine lawn.

“How did you know?” he asked. He’d never feared his mother. Howard he did, with an alcohol slurred voice and clenched fists.

But never his mother.

“We come from a lineage of a time where monsters and gods roamed freely.” his mother said, her voice flat and cold and scary. “And when you rebuff a god Antonio, you suffer the consequences. You, and everyone descended from you.”

“Why did they rebuff the gods?” Tony asked, wide-eyed and curious. He didn’t know then.

“Because they wanted what she did not want to give.” Maria said, finally looking at him. She pressed a hand against his back, turning him away from the wreckage and steering him back inside. “Come with me, and I will tell you the story of Cassandra.”

~~

Years later, Tony would understand, and ask her how long she could See.

Maria would give him that glazed empty look, and tell him that her mother, his grandmother, had died when Maria was four.

[i-rove-rock-n-roll]

Myths?

Going through my myths to write folder, and I just want to make sure I have it right on who asked for which ones (since it’s been a good while since I posted one) Roll call please! I’m trying to keep them all in track lol. 

To my peeps: 

@couchwriting@wallpatterns@luckydragonnerd@tokyoghoulua@xanthus-the-headless-stand-user@mkaiww@pheita@ashesconstellation@ashes-of-chironides@splotch-of-spice@the-real-rg@thecadmiuminkwell@ahotpeaceofshit@writingmyselfintoanearlygrave@talesofhemlock@aquaroseas@demonfairyprincess@softdramahoe @lifeofroos@panhasablog @candybunnieholic @superlock-on-pc @alwolfesblog

Like usual, feel free to ask for myths/legends/etc! They’ll be dedicated to you once I write em and post em!

Here are the one’s next up (please give me a shout as to who asked for which one so I get the dedication right! or if i forgot one, since I can’t find the posts with people asking for them) 

Urashima Tarō and Ryūjin

Apollo and Hyacinth

Eros and Psyche (Part 2)

Atalanta (part 2? did someone ask for a follow up or am i going crazy?)

Atlas (not from you guys)

Ones I’ve already done (I think this is all of them?)

Icarus

Dionysus/Bacchus

Hades and Persephone

Helen (of sparta/troy)

Atalanta

Morrigan

David and Goliath

‘Death’ of Perdix

Ishtar

Hestia

Osiris and Set

Medusa

[djgblogger-blog]

Robots and the two-edged blade of new technology

http://bit.ly/2j2UBsh

There’s a scare-tactic video going around on social media, and I wanted to weigh in on it—this particular video has gone from 500,000 views to almost 2 million in the past 10 days. As a matter of principle, I will not link to it. It presents a scary future in which killer robotic drones—controlled by any terrorist organization or government—run rampant.

The twin issues of killer robots and robots taking our jobs are the result of the two-edged blade of new technology, i.e., technologies that can be used for both good and evil. Should these new technologies be stopped entirely or regulated? Can they be regulated? Once you see a video like this one, one doubts whether they can ever be controlled. It’s fearful media that doesn’t say it is fake until far beyond the irresponsible level.

Videos like this one—and there are many—are produced for multiple purposes. The issues often get lost to the drama of the message. They are the result of, or fueled by, headline-hungry news sources, social media types and commercial and political strategists. This particular shock video—fake as it is—is promoting a longer, more balanced documentary and non-profit organization on the subject of stopping autonomous killing machines. Yet there are other factual videos of the U.S. military’s Perdix drones swarming just like in the shock video. Worse still, the same technologists that teach future roboticists at MIT are also developing those Perdix drones and their swarming capabilities.

My earlier career was in political strategy and I know something about the tactics of fear and manipulation—of raising doubts for manipulative purposes, as well as the real need for technologies to equalize the playing field. Again, the two-edged sword.

At the present time, we are under very real threat militarily and from the cyber world. We must invest in countering those threats and inventing new preventative weaponry. Non-militarily, jobs ARE under threat—particularly the dull, dirty and dangerous (DDD) ones easily replaced by robots and automation. In today’s global and competitive world, DDD jobs are being replaced because they are costly and inefficient. But they are also being replaced without too much consideration for those displaced.

It’s hard for me as an investor and observer (and in the past as a hands-on participant) to reconcile what I know about the state of robotics, automation and artificial intelligence today with the future use of those very same technologies.

I see the speed of change, e.g.: for many years, Google has had thousands of coders coding their self-driving system and compiling the relevant and necessary databases and models. But along comes George Hotz and other super-coders who single-handedly write code that writes code to accomplish the same thing. Code that writes code is what Elon Musk and Stephen Hawking fear, yet it is inevitable and soon will be commonplace. Ray Kurzweil named this phenomenon and claims that the ‘singularity’ will happen by 2045 with an interim milestone in 2029 when AI will achieve human levels of intelligence. Kurzweil’s forecasts, predicated on exponential technological growth, is clearly evident in the Google/Hotz example.

Pundits and experts suggest that when machines become smarter than human beings, they’ll take over the world. Kurzweil doesn’t think so. He envisions the same technology that will make AIs more intelligent giving humans a boost as well. It’s back to the two-edged sword of good and evil.

In my case, as a responsible writer and editor covering robotics, automation and artificial intelligence, I think it’s important to stay on topic, not fan the flames of fear, and to present the positive side of the sword.