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foxghost · 1 year

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Joyful Reunion

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

A Bird’s Eye View of the Realm2

“Duan Ling! Duan Ling —!”

Riding on Wanlibenxiao, Wu Du charges all the way out of the capital of Jiangzhou. He stares at Duan Ling with an exasperated look on his face. On a side road just beyond the capital’s walls, Duan Ling turns his horse around unhurriedly beneath the star-studded night sky with a brilliant Silver River cutting through the background. Edged with starlight, Duan Ling smiles at Wu Du.

“Let’s go?” Duan Ling says.

“Let’s go? Your emperor uncle is going to skin your lord and master!” Wu Du’s not sure if he should laugh or cry.

Duan Ling heaves a sigh and nods with a frown, ready to head back to the city with Wu Du. But seeing him like this, Wu Du just can’t bear to make him go back to the palace. It’s almost like if he could wipe that frown off Duan Ling’s face, it’s worth getting himself skinned.

“Come on then … Where’d you want to go?” Wu Du says, “Come on over here.”

Duan Ling’s frown disappears, turning into a smile. “Seriously?”

“Where to?” Wu Du asks. “The sun’s going to come up soon. What could be so important that you couldn’t forget it by the time you wake up again anyway?”

“To the ends of the earth,” Duan Ling says, slowly approaching Wu Du on horseback.

Wu Du shoots a glance at Duan Ling. “Let’s go then. I’ll let you go wherever you want, even to the ends of the earth.”

Duan Ling puts his foot into Wu Du’s stirrup, and with a swing of his leg over Benxiao’s back, he’s sitting in front of Wu Du. Now that they’re sharing a horse, Wu Du shakes the reins and shouts, “Gup!”

Benxiao runs on four hooves as though stepping on clouds, onto a Jiangzhou highway swirling with mist, kicking up a great trail of dust. The humidity of morning mist brushes them by, and the stars of the Silver River above gradually fade away until they all vanish in a flash of morning sunlight. A red sun surges above the horizon at the end of the Yangtze, bestowing this world new life.

“Whatever happened last night?” Wu Du whispers, putting his arms around Duan Ling so that he’s encircled, and protected.

“Last night’s stars and last night’s wind, west of the painted tower east of the hall …” Duan Ling recites smilingly.3

“We lack a butterfly’s wings and thus cannot fly as one, but my heart and yours will sing as one —” Wu Du follows by reciting the next line.

“We play pass the hook and drink warm spring wine, the shell game is fun and the candles are especially red …”

His memories gradually take him back to a time in the Illustrious Hall, and the voices of children reciting poetry join him in unison.

“Ah, I hear the nightwatchman’s clapper signalling roll-call — I spur my horse onwards but my heart only spins in place.”

Curled up in Wu Du’s arms, Duan Ling slowly nods off. Upon exiting the Jiangzhou highway, the ponds to the left and right of the road are blanketed with the remnants of lotus leaves. The morning breeze sends a ripple through the water, its crystalline lines reflecting the boundless blue sky.

Wu Du brings him all the way north, fording the Yangtze, turning into a gust of wind as they gallop past golden rice paddies, past the wide open prairies with the returning geese flying overhead, through puddles big and small left behind by the autumn rain, kicking up the fresh scent of the earth as they continue north. The mountains and clouds above them and the fields and forests they travel past are no longer black and white like an ink-brush painting but have gradually filled in with colour.

This sky, this earth, they seem to become a fast-moving painted scroll, multicoloured, fresh and elegant. Duan Ling slowly wakes from his sleep, and he looks up from Wu Du’s embrace to feel as though he’s travelled from early spring to midsummer, then through the cries of cicada and lush greenery, into gold-foiled late autumn.

Spring weeds grow lush in a land now vanquished; summer palace ruins lie buried beneath mounds of dirt.4

“Is this where you wanted to go?”

“No.”

— Thus they cross the Southern Chen border and pass through Runan.

The geese fly south but no letter came; the bamboo by the River Xiang is stained with tears.5

“How about here?”

“Not here either.”

— Thus they leave Luoyang without stopping to rest.

Finally, tracing the path he took north many years ago, Wu Du takes Duan Ling all the way to the outskirts of Shangjing. Whatever wounds that war had given this capital of Great Liao had healed long ago, and the biggest city in the north is also populated again.

The sun is beginning to set. Bells toll in the distant mountains, and the autumn wind rustling through the yellowing leaves already feels a bit chilly. A pale full moon hangs at the horizon, seemingly blending into the dark red sky. Wu Du stops halfway up a mountain, quietly watching Shangjing from above. Lights flicker in the city as every household hangs its lanterns.

It’s the fifteenth of the Eighth Month, the day of the Mid-Autumn festival. The Mongolians don’t celebrate this holiday; many years ago, the Han passed slips of paper in their mooncakes, and in the name of “resisting the barbarians” had risen up in rebellion, commencing a fierce battle beneath Mount Jiangjun.

Of course, the Mongolians don’t eat mooncakes, and they don’t celebrate this Han festival either, but the Khitans do. They say that at every Mid-Autumn Festival, Yelü Zongzhen’s seasonal palace in Zhongjing would be hung full of decorated lanterns so that he may reminisce fondly about old friends.

“Do you want to go take a look inside?” Wu Du crouches before the cliff’s edge in his white martial artist robes, looking into the distance like a white tiger in the night staring at the excitement and hubbub of the mortal world beneath the mountains.

They already came all the way so of course they ought to go inside and have a look around, but knowing Duan Ling as he does, Wu Du thinks sometimes all Duan Ling wants to do is to see it from a distance.

And as expected, Duan Ling says, “Never mind, let’s just leave.”

“We’re not leaving,” Wu Du says, turning to Duan Ling with a smile.

Duan Ling suddenly finds the sight of Wu Du’s back extraordinarily reliable, so much so that he decides to throw himself on there, and sprawls over his back. Wu Du smiles, saying, “Let’s go home.”

A gush of warmth rises from Duan Ling’s heart unbidden. Carrying Duan Ling on his back, Wu Du looks around him before slowly approaching the city via a small footpath. Shangjing is no longer the strictly defended stronghold it used to be, and it’s no longer the most important city in the north either; when Wu Du gets to the city gates, he takes Duan Ling’s hand, and when Duan Ling tells the soldiers at the gates in Khitan that they’ve come to visit relatives, the soldiers don’t press him for more details before letting them through.

“It’s reunion night,” Duan Ling says, standing at the city gate, facing the city of Shangjing in the midst of a festival. On either side of the main street are maple trees with leaves as red as blood, and underneath the lanterns, the street is bustling. A bright moon sits on the horizon.

This is clearly the Shangjing he remembers, and it has never changed; he takes Wu Du’s big hand and crosses the main street with him, walking towards his home. When they pass by an apothecary, the two of them stop automatically.

“I’ve been here before,” Wu Du says.

“I’ve been before as well,” Duan Ling replies.

Wu Du picks up the apothecary’s door and shoves it aside. Duan Ling goes behind the counter and notices that the place has been in a state of disrepair for a long time already — the drawers that used to hold herbs and medicinal ingredients are lying all over the place, whatever used to be in them long gone. Duan Ling picks up a half stick of candle left on the counter and lights it. When he stands it back up on the counter, the room is immediately suffused in a warm glow, casting their shadows onto the window lattice.

“Let’s go out this way,” Duan Ling says, taking Wu Du out of the apothecary through the rear courtyard. Just before leaving, he takes a glance behind him. The entire apothecary looks to him like a giant magic lantern, reflecting all the mortal world’s joys and sorrows, its many partings and reunions.

After the calamity that befell this city, people haven’t moved back in to fill all of its houses yet. Duan Ling walks through the alley that leads to his house and pushes open the two redwood doors that have almost rotted off their hinges to find the courtyard covered in lichen. A water bowl sits on the table still, left behind by Cai Yan just before they departed. It’s filled by half with rainwater.

I’m not a very good cook. I don’t have Zheng Yan’s skills. Someday when you taste better food than this you won’t think much about this table full of food, but for now you’ll have to make do.

It feels like Lang Junxia is still busying himself in the kitchen. Duan Ling sticks his head in for a look and asks smilingly, “Lang Junxia, where’s my dad?”

Lang Junxia looks up, glances at Duan Ling, and replies, “Your dad should be here by the time the peach blossoms bloom.”

Duan Ling turns around and walks into the courtyard. Wu Du is lying on a lounger Li Jianhong once used. He says to Duan Ling, “Come over here and look at the moon.”

And so Duan Ling goes to Wu Du and leans back against him. They lie there without a word.

“Mud all over your hands, and you wipe them all over your dad’s face.” Li Jianhong says, smiling at Duan Ling as he passes through the gallery.

Duan Ling thus quickly gets back on his feet, but all he hears is a gust of wind moving through the gallery, setting the rusted wind chines clanging.

Wu Du asks, “Are you hungry yet?”

“I’m hungry,” Duan Ling says. “Let’s have a walk around. I remember a shaobing place around here that was pretty tasty.”

Wu Du puts away his sword and leaves the house with Duan Ling. When they get to the main street, Duan Ling walks along the city wall. As they cross the river in the middle of the city, Wu Du can’t help but keep staring at the water. Duan Ling knows he’s remembering how he’d had to jump into the frozen river years ago, and teases him about it.

Soon, Wu Du picks up Duan Ling and leaps onto the roof. Stepping along the roof tiles, he jumps from roof to roof for an entire street, then he lands and buys them two pieces of shaobing, two catty of beef, and four taels of wine. Holding all that with one hand, he leaps onto the roof again and heads down to another street.

As they arrive at the Illustrious Hall, Duan Ling is surprised to find that the place has been renovated, and school is in session again. Right now though, the children have already gone home for the holidays. The gatekeeper is someone new as well; an old man, tipsy from drink, who left rather early.

“I’ve been to this stable,” Wu Du says as they walk in through the back door.

Duan Ling is chewing on a shaobing, and upon hearing this he almost spits it out. “You also crashed through the roof of the main hall.”

Wu Du laughs so hard that he doubles over. He grabs Duan Ling and takes a running leap onto the roof. The two of them lie down on the roof, and facing the bright harvest moon at the horizon, they drink and gaze at the moon.

“Milord,” Duan Ling says.

“Yeah,” Wu Du replies, drinking his wine. “The moon is particularly round in the north. I’ll take you to Shangzi next year.”

“Sure. There are still lots of tall mountains and great rivers still, and I want to see them all.”

“There’s plenty of time. Did you leave a message for your uncle?”

This concerns Wu Du’s skin after all. Duan Ling smiles as he says, “I left one when I left the palace that day.”

They look up at the sky, and as the moon rises to its zenith, there is a sudden squeak from the back gates as someone pushes them open. The sound is followed by a familiar voice.

“I never thought I’d run into you here,” Batu says.

“Jiangzhou … couldn’t go there,” Helian Bo says as he waves his sabre around fancily. “So I thought I’d … keep His Majesty … company. Have a walk … around.”

“Let’s call a temporary truce on my account,” says Yelü Zongzhen’s voice. “Borjigin, it’s not like you can come all this way here all the time, and you don’t have many guards with you either. Starting a fight inside the city won’t do you any good.”

Batu turns his nose up at the idea. “If you people hadn’t ambushed me I wasn’t planning to show my face anyway.”

“This trip is a trip down memory lane, so let’s just say we’re having a reunion dinner. See? We were meant to see each other again,” says Yelü Zongzhen. “Get someone to bring us a couple of catty of wine, and we’ll drink it here. We will raise our cups to Duan Ling in the far south — the moon is full and our table is full, and no matter the distance, we’re looking at the same moon.”

Duan Ling stares at them without a word.

Wu Du takes one look at Duan Ling, and as he’s just about to jump down there, Duan Ling grabs him and puts a finger in front of his lips, letting him know that he shouldn’t act without thinking. Then, while Yelü Zongzhen’s guards go around to secure the Illustrious Hall, Wu Du picks Duan Ling up sideways and walks to the end of the flying eaves like a great big cat. The two of them conceal themselves in the shadows of the next building over, quietly watching those in the courtyard as they gaze at the moon and drink their wine.

Helian Bo, Yelu Zongzhen and Borjigin Batu drink to each other beneath the moon, while Duan Ling and Wu Du sit still against each other on the roof. Time passes, and the silver disc moves across the sky, shining its bright light into the world. Three rounds of drinks later, Batu suddenly starts singing a bold, heroic tune.

His voice is forceful and unruly, startling the crows that have been sitting still on this moonlit night so that they fly off towards the horizon. Helian Bo and Yelü Zongzhen beat their cups with chopsticks, making a rhythmic clanging.

It’s a Mongolian pastoral song, and Duan Ling can understand the lyrics; with a full moon above the prairies, the wind blows through a sea of grass, sending waves in every direction, and yearning, like south-flying geese, has returned again.

Batu lets out a long sigh at the end of the song, but then they hear a flute start to play. It comes from above them, faint and barely there, lingering from the rafters to the horizon. All three are startled by the sound and look up together. All they can see is a young man’s pitch-black silhouette against a bright, clear moon, sharp like a paper cutout, while another man stands on the flying eaves protectively at his side.

The guards make to step up, but Yelü Zongzhen raises a hand to stop them. Slowly, Batu stands incredulously and walks to the centre of the courtyard to look up at that silhouette.

Duan Ling’s flute playing is melodic and bright, and through the years he has spent with Wu Du, he has finally learned how to play this song. It may be a bit shaky, but the music is more or less piercing with a wintry air.

Compared to Wu Du’s way of turning his tempered, steel-like strength, into the softness of a feather touch, Duan Ling plays with a lot of power, and the song inevitably takes on a strong resonating tone. The music sounds like a farewell, and it also sounds like regret; and finally, beneath the moon, it fades away until it can no longer be heard.

“Duan Ling?” Batu says, his voice trembling.

Wu Du becomes a black shadow, and with Duan Ling in his arms, he leaps from one uneven rooftop to another, leaving Shangjing behind. They get on Wanlibenxiao and gallop away from the city.

Just before he leaves, Duan Ling looks up at the bright, clear harvest moon above.

“Let’s go home!” Duan Ling says.

“Let’s go home. Gup!” Wu Du urges Wanlibenxiao on and takes Duan Ling away from there as though riding on the wind, looking down at ten thousand miles of the realm.

This translation is by foxghost, on tumblr and kofi. I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, it was reposted without permission. Do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

The title is from a poem by Xin Qiji, and like many of Xin Qiji’s poems, may sound like it’s about yearning for someone while being a poem that yearns for a lost homeland, as it was written during the Southern Song dynasty. The whole line that the title came from would read: I wish to ride on the wind and get a bird’s eye view of the realm. ↩︎

A poem by the Tang dynasty poet Li Shangyin. The second line that Wu Du recites is so famous that it’s essentially an idiom. ↩︎

This poem opened chapter 1. ↩︎

Another poem by Li Shangyin. This one is about yearning for someone far away. ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things #LAST UPDATE #!!!!!

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inemi · 10 months

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STAN BORYS-jaskółka.

youtube

Jaskółka czarny sztylet, wydarty z piersi wiatru

Nagła smutku kotwica, z niewidzialnego jachtu

Katedra ją złowiła w sklepienia sieć wysokąJak śmierć kamienna bryła

Jak wyrok naw prostokąt

Jaskółka błyskawica w kościele obumarłym

Tnie jak czarne nożyce lęk, który ją ogarnia

Jaskółka siostra burzy, żałoba fruwająca

Ponad głowami ludzi, w których się troska błąka

Jaskółka znak podniebny jak symbol nieuchwytna

Zwabiona w chłód katedry przestroga i modlitwa

Nie przetnie białej ciszy pod chmurą ołowianą

Lotu swego nie zniży nad łąki złotą plamą

Przeraża mnie ta chwila, która jej wolność skradła

Jaskółka czarny brylant wrzucony tu przez diabła

Na wieczne wirowanie, na bezszelestną mękę

Na gniazda nie zaznanie, na przeklinanie piękna

Na wieczne wirowanie, na bezszelestną mękę

Na gniazda nie zaznanie, na przeklinanie piękna

Hirondelle poignard noir, arraché de la poitrine du vent

Ancre de tristesse soudaine, d'un yacht invisible

La cathédrale l'a attrapée dans les voûtes du filet aussi haut que la mort un bloc de pierre

Comme le verdict des allées du rectangle

Avalez la foudre dans une église morte

Elle coupe comme des ciseaux noirs la peur qui la saisit

Hirondelle soeur de la tempête, deuil flottant

Au-dessus de la tête des gens en qui les soins errent

Avalez le signe du ciel comme un symbole insaisissable

Prudence et prière attirées dans la fraîcheur de la cathédrale

Il ne coupera pas le silence blanc sous un nuage de plomb

Il ne baissera pas son vol au-dessus des prairies avec une tache dorée

Je suis terrifié par le moment qui lui a volé sa liberté

Avale un diamant noir jeté ici par le diable

Pour la filature éternelle, pour le tourment silencieux

Pour ne pas connaître les nids, pour maudire la beauté

Pour la filature éternelle, pour le tourment silencieux

Pour ne pas connaître les nids, pour maudire la beauté

A swallow of a black dagger, snatched from the breast of the wind

The anchor of a sudden sadness, an invisible yacht

The cathedral caught her in the basement of a net as high as the death of a stone block

Like the verdict of the alleys of the rectangle

Swallow lightning in a dead church

She cuts like black scissors the fear that seizes her

Swallow sister of the storm, flowing mourning

Over the heads of people in whom worries wander

Swallow the sky sign as an elusive symbol

Caution and prayers offered in the cold of the cathedral

It will not break the white silence under a cloud of lead

It will not suppress its flight over the meadows with a golden stain

I'm afraid of the moment that took away her freedom

Swallow the black diamond thrown here by the devil

For eternal spinning, for silent torment

Not to know nests, to curse beauty

For eternal spinning, for silent torment

Not to know nests, to curse beauty

Una rondine di un pugnale nero, strappato dal petto del vento

L'ancora della tristezza improvvisa, lo yacht invisibile

La cattedrale l'ha catturata nei sotterranei con una rete alta come la morte di un blocco di pietra

Come il verdetto dei vicoli del rettangolo

Inghiottire un fulmine in una chiesa morta

Taglia come forbici nere la paura che la prende

Rondine, sorella della tempesta, lutto che scorre

Sopra le teste delle persone in cui vagano le preoccupazioni

Ingoia il segno del cielo come un simbolo sfuggente

Cautela e preghiere offerte nel freddo della cattedrale

Non romperà il bianco silenzio sotto una nuvola di piombo

Non sopprimerà il suo volo sui prati con una macchia d'oro

Ho paura del momento che gli ha tolto la libertà

Ingoia il diamante nero lanciato qui dal diavolo

Per la rotazione eterna, per il tormento silenzioso

Non conosci i nidi, maledici la bellezza

Per la rotazione eterna, per il tormento silenzioso

Non conosci i nidi, maledici la bellezza

#Youtube

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gothicdicordia · 6 months

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After reading the first chapter of her book, I decided I must visit this self-proclaimed druid priestess, this bandrui. Upon calling the publisher I discovered they were a recluse after years of living a very public life in some other mysterious capacity.

Of course, the bandrui would meet with someone interested in their book, alone, at home, on a warm October Sunday not far from Hallows Eve.

I was expecting something in the line of Castenada's journey to meet his shaman and indeed, the paved road stopped, the shaded black oak stands faded to Tall grass Prairie ride with fading wildflowers, and sky shimmered an iridescent gray under a vast, high blanket of clouds.

Then the gravelled road twisted down a rolling hill, then deep into a wooded ravine. A cluster of mailboxes marked a crossroads and my downloaded map instructed me to turn onto a road, rutted deep, with long grass barely touched by travels dragging under the chassis of my rented jeep.

Then a simple, powder coated black cattle gate left slightly ajar and messy bundle of sunflowers tied there to mark this where I'd pass.

The next mile was marked by tall, white windmills generating electrical power across a plain of very trim pasture. Then a trio of residential Satellite Dishes, a pumphouse with a large water tank, and a modern cell tower on a hill above. Then power lines leading to a 1970s standard Oklahoma Oilfield Workers redbrick home rectangle.

Attached to it was a large screen porch - modern - enamel white grating - glass panels - Southern gingerbread trim - thickly populated by house plants.

A Lady Banks Rose vine grew verdantly over the porch and he could make our an additional extension on the other side, a larger screened in garden, and another small garage-like home serving as the far boundary of the fence.

The porch lamp was lit as it was quite dark for a fall morning. A figure in a hooded, fleece robe, tall and robust motioned from the open screen door.

"Come in, Come in. You must be exhausted and hopefully hungry?"

"I'm here to interview Ms. Rose. May I come in?"

The tall, broad-shouldered figure lifted their head deep in the hood and sighed as if it pained them to be at full height of 6ft or so.

"Yes, of course. Come in. Sit. I made Cider, since it is Autumn of course. And of course Mead if so required later."

I heard a chirpy whisper from what was the open kitchen. "This one does not know!" Then the latter of pittle feet tapping away from us.

The large one came, set down a tea tray decorated with a loop of hops vine of latte sized cups full of warmed cider and a selection of German cookies in a basket lined with worn, but clean tea towels.

My eyes adjusted to the limited lamp light. A dining table altar was to my left heaped with seed pods of many plants, small squash, quaking grasses, and a Celtic cross of iron over a Indian Lotus. An unusually chunky incense stick burned and the scent of liturgical Palo Santo and Rosas filled the air.

The large personage lowered themselves into a large, leather easy chair.

"I hope you have now concluded I am Ms. Rose and I have always been a female of unusual strength and size. It was not until after the pandemic that I was finally allowed to transcend and be judged on my intellectual capabilities alone."

To be continued..

#lgbtq #druid #goth #transhumanism #ai #biohack #bandrui

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mauvais--sang · 11 months

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« Puis, sur les prairies sombres qui sont obscurément éclairées par un crépuscule d’astres, les deux ombres blanches s’assirent et cueillirent le crocos jaune, et l’hyacinthe ; et Daphnis tressa pour Chloé une couronne d’asphodèles. Mais ils ne mangèrent pas le lotus bleu qui croît sur les bords du Léthé, ni ne burent de l’eau qui fait perdre la mémoire. Chloé ne voulait pas oublier. Et la reine Perséphone leur donna des sandales de glace à semelle de feu pour traverser le courant enflammé des fleuves rouges. »

— Mimes, Marcel Schwob, 1894

#marcel schwob #quote #turn of the century

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frumious-bandersnatch-ao3 · 1 year

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A little bit of cannibalism for your prompt? As a treat? (And for characters/ship, I keep seeing you talk about Alastair/Dean so 👀. If you feel so inclined.)

Shucked open and hollow, he’d named every cut excised before it had been wrapped tenderly in brown butcher’s paper and tied with twine. Tasted carpaccio sliced warm and still twitching from his psoas major, had the blood on his lips nudged tenderly against his tongue by the edge of a calloused thumb. Prairie oysters fried quickly; dredged in flour and spices and christened, still hot, with a squeeze of lemon. Crisped and crunched between his teeth, he’d moaned both at the taste and at the nauseatingly slippery sensation of his intestines slowly being uncoiled and removed to be cleaned.

It was going to be a date night, in a few days, and Alastair wanted to keep his options open as far as what he was going to cook went. It wasn’t torture– not anymore, not when he was off the rack, not when he was Alastair’s equal, now: his protégé, his student. It was soft, and gentle; the pain as much an act of love as the soft words murmured between howls and screams, panted out of a ruined throat.

“I’ve carved my heart out for you, too,” Alastair breathed against Dean’s aorta. His heart was still beating, still attached, and Alastair was licking and biting at the wet muscle of it. “Not nearly as beautiful, I’m afraid; my meat’s gone rotten after so many thousands of years down here, bathed in sulfur and ichor… twisted into shape. Yours will be too, some day.” Would be, if not for God’s grand plan, but Dean didn’t need to know about it, not when they were enjoying their time together.

“I’ll like it,” Dean wheezed, eyes rolling back in his head and mouth hanging open for a few seconds in a silent scream that died somewhere between diaphragm and throat, “all the same, if it’s yours.”

Dinner that night, when Dean was made whole again and the setting had twisted from rack into kitchen, was served in four courses: heart tartare on grilled fettunta; a salad of blanched lotus root and pomegranate with scallions and a chili-ginger vinaigrette, tenderloin cooked rare (the crust on it gorgeously seared) with wild garlic and shallots; and a pastilla topped with a curl of cinnamon-apple ice cream that had had bone marrow churned in with the cream, rich and smooth. They’d shared each plate, savored each bite knowing precisely where every piece of meat had come from. A communion of their own flesh, blood, and tears.

#cannibalism #cannibalism as a metaphor for love #slight gore #slight body horror #Dean Winchester/Alastair #Dean in Hell #Dean Winchester #Alastair (Supernatural)#guh I love them so much #thank you so much for the prompt!!!!!!#Feel free to send more :eyes:#please #Supernatural #Supernatural fanfiction #drabble #short fic

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algumaideia · 2 years

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Nico quotes- Last Olympian

The scene shifted. Now I was outside the pavilion, hiding in the shadows of a Greek column. A boy stood next to me, eavesdropping on the Titans. He had dark silky hair, pale skin, and dark clothes—my friend Nico di Angelo, the son of Hades.

...

Nico was the only one who didn't seem freaked out by Mrs. O'Leary's appearance. He looked pretty much like I'd seen him in my dream—an aviator's jacket, black jeans, and a T-shirt with dancing skeletons on it, like one of those Day of the Dead pictures. His Stygian iron sword hung at his side. He was only twelve, but he looked much older and sadder. He nodded when he saw me, then went back to scratching Mrs. O'Leary's ears. She sniffed his legs like he was the most interesting thing since rib-eye steaks. Being the son of Hades, he'd probably been traveling in all sorts of hellhound-friendly places

...

Nico tapped his sword on the ground. A tiny mound of animal bones erupted from the dirt. They knit themselves together into a skeletal field mouse and scampered off.

...

"This will make her very tired," Nico warned, "so you can't do it often. And it works best at night. But all shadows are part of the same substance. There is only one darkness, and creatures of the Underworld can use it as a road, or a door."

...

Nico appeared right next to me, as if the shadows had darkened and created him. He stumbled, but I caught his arm. "I'm okay," he managed, rubbing his eyes. "How did you do that?" "Practice. A few times running into walls. A few accidental trips to China."

...

The girl had mousy brown hair and a simple brown dress. She wore a scarf over her head so she looked like a pioneer kid—like the ghost of Little House on the Prairie or something. She poked the fire with a stick, and it seemed to glow more richly red than a normal fire. "Hello," she said. My first thought was: monster. When you're a demigod and you find a sweet little girl alone in the woods—that's typically a good time to draw your sword and attack. Plus, the encounter with Ms. Castellan had rattled me pretty bad. But Nico bowed to the little girl. "Hello again, Lady." She studied me with eyes as red as the firelight. I decided it was safest to bow.

[...] "I recognize you now," I said. "The first time I came to camp, you were sitting by the fire, in the middle of the commons area." "You did not stop to talk," the girl recalled sadly. "Alas, most never do. Nico talked to me. He was the first in many years. Everyone rushes about. No time for visiting family."

...

"Father," Nico said. "I have done as you asked." "Took you long enough," Hades grumbled. "Your sister would've done a better job."Nico lowered his head. If I hadn't been so mad at the little creep, I might've felt sorry for him.

...

"To talk, of course." The god twisted his mouth in a cruel smile. "Didn't Nico tell you?" "So this whole quest was a lie. Nico brought me down here to get me killed." "Oh, no," Hades said. "I'm afraid Nico was quite sincere about wanting to help you. The boy is as honest as he is dense. I simply convinced him to take a small detour and bring you here first." "Father," Nico said, "you promised that Percy would not be harmed. You said if I brought him, you would tell me about my past—about my mother."

[...] "Father, you promised!" Nico said. "You said you only wanted to talk to him. You said if I brought him, you'd explain."

[...] diplomat in Washington, D.C. That's where I met her. When you and your sister were young, it was a bad time to be children of Hades. World War II was brewing. A few of my, ah, other children were leading the losing side. I thought it best to put you two out of harm's way." "That's why you hid us in the Lotus Casino?" Hades shrugged. "You didn't age. You didn't realize time was passing. I waited for the right time to bring you out." "But what happened to our mother? Why don't I remember her?" "Not important," Hades snapped. "What? Of course it's important. And you had other children—why were we the only ones who were sent away? And who was the lawyer who got us out?" Hades grit his teeth. "You would do well to listen more and talk less, boy. As for the lawyer . . ." Hades snapped his fingers. On top of his throne, the Fury Alecto began to change until she was a middle-aged man in a pinstriped suit with a briefcase. She—he—looked strange crouching at Hades's shoulder. "You!" Nico said. The Fury cackled. "I do lawyers and teachers very well!" Nico was trembling. "But why did you free us from the casino?" "You know why," Hades said. "This idiot son of Poseidon cannot be allowed to be the child of the prophecy." I plucked a ruby off the nearest plant and threw it at Hades. It sank harmlessly into his robe.

"You should be helping Olympus!" I said. "All the other gods are fighting Typhon, and you're just sitting here—" "Waiting things out," Hades finished. "Yes, that's correct. When's the last time Olympus ever helped me, half-blood? When's the last time a child of mine was ever welcomed as a hero? Bah! Why should I rush out and help them? I'll stay here with my forces intact." "And when Kronos comes after you?" "Let him try. He'll be weakened. And my son here, Nico—" Hades looked at him with distaste. "Well, he's not much now, I'll grant you. It would've been better if Bianca had lived. But give him four more years of training. We can hold out that long, surely. Nico will turn sixteen, as the prophecy says, and then he will make the decision that will save the world. And I will be king of the gods." "You're crazy," I said. "Kronos will crush you, right after he finishes pulverizing Olympus." Hades spread his hands. "Well, you'll get a chance to find out, half-blood. Because you'll be waiting out this war in my dungeons." "No!" Nico said. "Father, that wasn't our agreement. And you haven't told me everything!" "I've told you all you need to know," Hades said. "As for our agreement, I spoke with Jackson. I did not harm him. You got your information. If you had wanted a better deal, you should've made me swear on the Styx. Now, go to your room!" He waved his hand, and Nico vanished.

...

The mountain of darkness loomed above me. A foot the size of Yankee Stadium was about to smash me when a voice hissed, "Percy!" I lunged out blindly. Before I was fully awake, I had Nico pinned to the floor of the cell with the edge of my sword at his throat. "Want . . . to . . . rescue," he choked. Anger woke me up fast. "Oh, yeah? And why should I trust you?"

"No . . . choice?" he gagged. I wished he hadn't said something logical like that. I let him go. Nico curled into a ball and made retching sounds while his throat recovered. Finally he got to his feet, eyeing my sword warily. His own blade was sheathed. I suppose if he'd wanted to kill me, he could've done it while I slept. Still, I didn't trust him. "We have to get out of here," he said. "Why?" I said. "Does your dad want to talk to me again?" He winced. "Percy, I swear on the River Styx, I didn't know what he was planning." "You know what your dad is like!" "He tricked me. He promised—" Nico held up his hands. "Look . . . right now, we need to leave. I put the guards to sleep, but it won't last."

...

He scowled. "Prepare yourself, foolish boy. Whether you survive this or not, you have sealed your doom!" With that happy thought, he vanished. "Percy," Nico said, "maybe he's right." "This was your idea." "I know, but now that we're here—"

...

"Go back to your father," I told Nico. "Tell him he owes me for letting him go. Find out what's going to happen to Mount Olympus and convince him to help." Nico stared at me. "I . . . I can't. He'll hate me now. I mean . . . even more." "You have to," I said. "You owe me too." His ears turned red. "Percy, I told you I was sorry. Please . . . let me come with you. I want to fight." "You'll be more help down here." "You mean you don't trust me anymore," he said miserably. I didn't answer. I didn't know what I meant. I was too stunned by what I'd just done in battle to think clearly. "Just go back to your father," I said, trying not to sound too harsh. "Work on him. You're the only person who might be able to get him to listen." "That's a depressing thought." Nico sighed. "All right. I'll do my best. Besides, he's still hiding something from me about my mom. Maybe I can find out what."

...

In my dream, I saw Nico di Angelo alone in the gardens of Hades. He'd just dug a hole in one of Persephone's flower beds, which I didn't figure would make the queen very happy. He poured a goblet of wine into the hole and began to chant. "Let the dead taste again. Let them rise and take this offering. Maria di Angelo, show yourself!" White smoke gathered. A human figure formed, but it wasn't Nico's mother. It was a girl with dark hair, olive skin, and the silvery clothes of a Hunter. "Bianca," Nico said. "But—" Don't summon our mother, Nico, she warned. She is the one spirit you are forbidden to see. "Why?" he demanded. "What's our father hiding?" Pain, Bianca said. Hatred. A curse that stretches back to the Great Prophecy. "What do you mean?" Nico said. "I have to know!" The knowledge will only hurt you. Remember what I said: holding grudges is a fatal flaw for children of Hades. "I know that," Nico said. "But I'm not the same as I used to be, Bianca. Stop trying to protect me!" Brother, you don't understand— Nico swiped his hand through the mist, and Bianca s image dissipated. "Maria di Angelo," he said again. "Speak to me!"

...

In my dreams, I was back in Hades's garden. The lord of the dead paced up and down, holding his ears while Nico followed him, waving his arms. "You have to!" Nico insisted. Demeter and Persephone sat behind them at the breakfast table. Both of the goddesses looked bored. Demeter poured shredded wheat into four huge bowls. Persephone was magically changing the flower arrangement on the table, turning the blossoms from red to yellow to polka-dotted. "I don't have to do anything!" Hades s eyes blazed. "I'm a god!" "Father," Nico said, "if Olympus falls, your own palace's safety doesn't matter. You'll fade too." "I am not an Olympian!" he growled. "My family has made that quite clear." "You are,'' Nico said. "Whether you like it or not." "You saw what they did to your mother," Hades said. "Zeus killed her. And you would have me help them? They deserve what they get!" Persephone sighed. She walked her fingers across the table, absently turning the silverware into roses. "Could we please not talk about that woman?" "You know what would help this boy?" Demeter mused. "Farming." Persephone rolled her eyes. "Mother—" "Six months behind a plow. Excellent character building." Nico stepped in front of his father, forcing Hades to face him. "My mother understood about family. That's why she didn't want to leave us. You can't just abandon your family because they did something horrible. You've done horrible things to them too." "Maria died!" Hades reminded him. "You can't just cut yourself off from the other gods!" "I've done very well at it for thousands of years." "And has that made you feel any better?" Nico demanded. "Has that curse on the Oracle helped you at all? Holding grudges is a fatal flaw. Bianca warned me about that, and she was right." "For demigods! I am immortal, all-powerful! I would not help the other gods if they begged me, if Percy Jackson himself pleaded—" "You're just as much of an outcast as I am!" Nico yelled. "Stop being angry about it and do somethinghelpful for once. That's the only way they'll respect you!" Hades's palm filled with black fire. "Go ahead," Nico said. "Blast me. That's just what the other gods would expect from you. Prove them right." "Yes, please," Demeter complained. "Shut him up." Persephone sighed. "Oh, I don't know. I would rather fight in the war than eat another bowl of cereal. This is boring." Hades roared in anger. His fireball hit a silver tree right next to Nico, melting it into a pool of liquid metal.

...

The enemy forces stirred uneasily. Then the strangest thing happened. They began to part, clearing a path through the street like something behind them was forcing them to. Soon there was a free aisle down the center of Fifth Avenue. Standing at the end of the block was my giant dog, and a small figure in black armor. "Nico?" I called. "ROWWF!" Mrs. O'Leary bounded toward me, ignoring the growling monsters on either side. Nico strode forward. The enemy army fell back before him like he radiated death, which of course he did. Through the face guard of his skull-shaped helmet, he smiled. "Got your message. Is it too late to join the party?"

"Son of Hades." Kronos spit on the ground. "Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?" "Your death," Nico said, "would be great for me." "I'm immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live." Nico drew his sword—three feet of wicked sharp Stygian iron, black as a nightmare. "I don't agree."

...

The lord of the dead nodded. He had a smug look on his face, but I figure he'd earned the right. He patted his son Nico on the shoulders, and Nico looked happier than I'd ever seen him.

...

But your children should not be left out. They should have a cabin at camp. Nico has proven that.

...

Mrs. O'Leary romped around happily, eating everybody's table scraps. Nico sat at the main table with Chiron and Mr. D, and nobody seemed to think this was out of place. Everybody was patting Nico on the back, complimenting him on his fighting. Even the Ares kids seemed to think he was pretty cool. Hey, show up with an army of undead warriors to save the day, and suddenly you're everybody's best friend.

...

Nico had some undead builders working on the Hades cabin. Even though he was still the only kid in it, it was going to look pretty cool: solid obsidian walls with a skull over the door and torches that burned with green fire twenty-four hours a day.

#nico di angelo #last olympian #for me

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scriptflorist · 2 years

Note

Hey! I love your blog so much, and I'm so happy that I found it (it's helped a lot)! I was wondering if you could do a list of flowers that mean (or fall into the category of/are similar to): Obsession, Obsessive love, 'til death do us part, I want your attention, I belong to you, you belong to me, etc., etc. Along with this, I'd also like to know what flowers are native to New Jersey (And also which ones bloom in the fall, if any?) Thank you, and have a lovely day!

That should be possible with some creativity given that obsession and bonding don’t exist as meanings themselves, but it leans well enough into the Victorian flower language to get something out of it still. Hope there’s something in here that works for your story.

arbor vitae – live for me, unchanging friendship

baby’s breath – everlasting love, innocence, pure of heart

bay leaf – I change but in death/dying

broom-rape – union

carnation (pink) – I will/I’ll never forget you, women’s love

cedar leaf – I live for thee

clover (white) – think of me

columbine – I cannot give thee up, folly, desertion

columbine (purple) – resolved to win

cowslip (american) – divine beauty, you are my angel, you are my divinity

currant – thy frown will kill me, thankfulness

daisy (double) – affection, I reciprocate your affection

daphane (rose) – I desire to please

eschscholzia – do not refuse me

euphorbia – persistence

fleur-de-lis – I burn, flame

foxglove – I am not ambitious for myself but for you, a wish, stateliness, occupation, insincerity, youth

furze – love for all seasons/occasions

gladiolus – you pierce my heart, generosity, I’m sincere, flower of the gladiators

heart’s ease – you occupy my thoughts, forget me not, think of me, thoughts

heart’s ease (purple) – you occupy my thoughts

hemlock – you will be my death

honeysuckle – generous and devoted affection, bonds of love, the bond of love, devotion, I would not answer hastily, fidelity

honeysuckle (coral) – the colour of my fate

honeysuckle (wild) – generous and devoted love

japonica – sincerity, symbol of love

jasmine (indian) – I attach myself to you, attachment, separation

laurestine – a token, I die if neglected, delicate attention

mallow (syrian) – consumed by love, persuasion

rose (carolina) – love is dangerous

shepherd’s purse – I offer you my all

spindle tree – your charms are engraven on my heart

tulip – (a) declaration of love, perfect lover, fame, beautiful eyes

tulip (red) – declaration of love

virginia creeper – I cling to you both in sunshine and in shade

Plants native to New Jersey that bloom in fall/autumn:

allegheny monkey flower

american angelica

american arrowhead

american blue vervain

american lotus

american water-willow

ashy sunflower

bigleaf aster

black-eyed susan

bluebell

blue bead lily

blue cohosh

blue mistflower

blue star

blue wood aster

bottle gentian

bowman’s root

brown-eyed susan

bunchberry

bushy aster

canada goldenrod

canada wild ginger

canadian violet

cardinal flower

carolina geranium

caroline redroot

closed bottle gentian

coastal plain joe-pye weed

common boneset

common evening primrose

cow parsnip

crooked aster

cutleaf coneflower

cup plant

downy skullcap

early goldenrod

false aster

false sunflower

field thistle

flat-topped white aster

foam flower

fringed bleeding heart

fringed loosestrife

gayfeather

golden crownbeard

grass-leaved goldenrod

grassy arrowhead

gray goldenrod

great blue lobelia

hairy aster

hardy hibiscus

heath aster

hoary vervain

horizontal calico aster

jerusalem artichoke

joe-pye weed

late boneset

marsh betony

maryland golden aster

maximilian sunflower

meadow phlox

narrowleaf mountain mint

new england aster

new york aster

new york ironweed

nodding lady’s tresses

orange fringed orchid

orange jewelweed

patridge pea

pearly everlasting

pink tickseed

prairie sagebush

purple-head sneezeweed

purple mountain saxifrage

red baneberry

rock harlequin

rough goldenrod

salt heliotrope

sawtooth sunflower

scarlet bee balm

seashore mallow

seaside goldenrod

selfheal

showy black-eyed susan

showy goldeneye

showy goldenrod

showy tick trefoil

slender buch clover

slender dayflower

smooth beggartick

smooth blue aster

sneezeweed

spotted joe-pye weed

stiff goldenrod

stiff sunflower

swamp sunflower

swamp thistle

sweet goldenrod

sweetscent

sweet-scented joe-pye weed

tall boneset

tall cinquefoil

tall goldenrod

ten-petaled sunflower

threadleaf coreopsis

tickseed

virginia meadow beauty

water arum

western sunflower

wild bergamot

wild cucumber

wild potato vine

wild senna

wingstem

white baneberry

white goldenrod

white panicle aster

white snakeroot

white turtlehead

white wood aster

whorled milkweed

woodland sunflower

wreath goldenrod

yellow jewelweed

yellow pond lily

This website gives a breakdown by county in form of excel lists, albeit it doesn’t say whether the plants bloom in fall or not.

https://npsnj.org/native-plants/where-to-buy-natives/plant-lists/

– Mod Jana

Disclaimer

This blog is intended as writing advice only. This blog and its mods are not responsible for accidents, injuries or other consequences of using this advice for real world situations or in any way that said advice was not intended.

https://www.gardenia.net/native-plants/new-jersey

#flower language #gardening #writing advice #victorian flower language #obession #obessive love #feelings of love #attention #you belong to me #I belong to you #mod jana #ask answered

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wordsforrain · 2 years

Text

Echinacea pallida (pale purple coneflower) and Lotus corniculatus (birds-foot trefoil) at the prairie patch

#shingle creek #minneapolis #minnesota #plants #photo #m

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soldier-requests · 3 months

Note

Hello! I'm looking for some masculine name ideas for a Sniper-kin ; if you want to experiment with making it earth/forest/canine themed that'd be really swag

hello!! wasn’t too sure about how masc some of these names feel, but i hope you find something you like regardless!

there's not as much as i normally end up doing, but it's still quite the list so i put them under the cut 👍.

acacia

acacius

ace

ackley

acorn

affie

alaska

alfie

alpine

arbor

arc

archer

archie

arctic

aries

arthur

artus

ash

asher

ashford

ashton

aster

atlas

august

augustin(e)

augustus

avens

avery

bandit

baron

basil

bass

basset

bay

bear

beaumont

beck

beetle

ben

bengal

benji

benny

bentley

benton

berry

birch

birk

blackjack

blaze

blue

blume

bo, boe

bolt

bone

boomer

borage

border

boxer

bracker

bracket

bramble

briar

brick

brin

brock

bryce

bryn

buck

bud

bull

burr

bush

busher

bushie, bushy

butch

buzz

caelum, caylum

callum

cane, kane

canid

canine

canyon

cas

casey

caspian

cedar

cerberus

charcoal

charlie

cheddar

chen

chez

chow

cider

ciel

cinder

citrine

citron

citrus

clay

clement

cliff

cloud

coal

coast

cobalt

cobolt

cocoa

collie

colt

columbine

columbo

columbus

conan

cooper

copper

cove

coy

coyote

crane

crimson

crispin

crow

curry

cyan

cypress

dagwood

dak

dakota, dakoda

dale

dane

dante

darrah

darren

darrow

david

dawson

deacon

dean

declan

den

denis, denys

deniz

denver

derry

dhole

digger

dill

dingo

dipper

douglas

drake

duff(y)

duke

dulce

dune

dusk

dust

dustin

dusty

dutch

dutchen

east

eden

elvis

elwood

emerald

emerson

emery

everest

everett

evergreen

falcon

fallon

fang

farley

fennec

fennel

fergus

fews

fin, finn

finch

finley, finnley

fir

firth

fish

fisher

flax

flint

florence

florent

flynn

ford

forest

forester

frank

frankie

franklin

fraser, frazier, frasier, frazer

frost

gale(n)

gardner

gene

genesis

ginger

goldie

grain

grey, gray

grove(s)

hades

harvest

hawk(e)

hazel

heath

hercules

hive

holland

hound

hugo

hum

hummer

hunt

hunter

huntie, hunty

jack

jackal

jackie, jacky

jason

jasper

jay

jett

joey

jove

july

june

juniper

juno

jupiter

kai

kale

kestrel

kip

kippy, kippie

koa

koi

lake

lark

leo

loch

locust

lodge

lotis

lotus

lucky

lumen

lupin(e)

lupis

mace

magnus

mane(d)

mango

march

marley

marlow

marsh

marshal(l)

matchbox

maverick

max

meek

meer

merlin

mickey

mint(y)

mob(y)

moose

morgan

morris

moses

moss

mossy, mossie

nash

nasher

nicholas

noble

norman

north

nox

oak

oakie

odie

odin

oleander

olive(r)

olivier

ollie

oto

otter

otto

ottoman

packet(t)

pear

percival

percy

perry

perseus

picard

pickle

pine

pongo

prairie

prince

red, redd

reed, reid

ren

rhodes

rhody

ridge

rock(e)

rocky, rockie

roman

ronat

rook

root

rory

rover

rudy

rune

russel

salmon

samsun, samson

scruff

scruffy, scruffie

silver

silvester

skylark

smokey

sol

solei(l)

solomon

sorrel

south

spade

sparrow

spot

spruce

stag

sterling

stone

sun

sunray

talon

tawny

terran

terro

terry, terrie

theo

thistle

thor

thyme

titan

toms

trip

tunnel

turtle

velvet

vulp

vulpes

wade

wane

warbler

wax

waxer

weaver

wells

west

whistler

winston

wolf(e)

wood

woodrow

woodson

woody, woodie

york

zeus

#request accepted | ''Allons-y; Allonzo!''#anonymous request #name suggestions | ''How would you feel about Who?''#tf2kin #tf2 kin

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namenerdery · 7 months

Text

Babies with interesting names born in Missouri in 2021 [O, P, Q & R]

-note that this dataset didn't include gender so your guess as to whether a name belongs to a girl or boy is as good as mine-

Oaklye Samuel Lee Oakum Banks Obsidian Lotus October Harvest Moonchyld Omega Alyse

Onameaous Xavier Orchinson Osiris Magnolia Othello Pea Lennon Ottley Yvonne

Owynn Maru Oxlee James Ozymandias Aleister Ozziah Troubadour Sterling Ozzilynn Anne Chaos

Pai'slei Aiyana Marie Parkhyr' Alexandria Patiennce Skai Patty Jean Jolynn Paytence Forever

Peayzle Jaylynn Pennington K Peosleen Karin Perceus Adonis Ray Percival Yasuo Wayne

Phaith Alise Pheenyx Amaurii-Reign Phynixx Remington Hart Pilot Scott Poetic Ocean West Eleven

Poison-Ivy Marie Posh Gleaux Powerful Akeyleus Prairie Shawnee Ray Princess Miami

Prodigy Kamari Prosperity Layne Psalm Marleyemma Psilas Kal-El Puncher Cole

Purpose Garrett Wayman Pystol James

Qruze Darrell Quartney Emoni Quillin Malcolm Quinleigh Nicole Leann Quinterrace Ormond Terrell

Racelyn Mae Racsan Earlene Marie Racynn Allen Raddler Ramsey Raeylynn Renea-Ann

Raggie Jonmur Ralstyn Rae Ramseigh Eiriann Jayne Rancher Dale Ranezmae Lea

Ransom Willard Rebel Ray'gime Earl Razareia Cynthia Rose Razz Everett Rderrick Drevon

Rebel Legend Reeson Malini Reigner James Reigns Alexander Rembrandt Earl

Remelia Ivy Rendlee Rae-Jean Renegade Seay Rensley Jolene Repson Jaydan

Reuel Kate Reverie Bloom Reward A Rexxar Jackson Reynadia Monique

Reynnli Layne Rhainee Amoree Dior Rhetting Foster Rhettlynn Kay Rhiot Jude Dale

Rhip Tyler Rhoric Christopher Rhyett Ray Rhymedy Nirvana-Dawn Riahlyn Renee

Ricochet Ruby Rachelle Riddian Klause Michael Rider Evan Rieyen Lee Rigdon Ianthus

Righteous Xela Nova Riot Zane Rippley Daniel Ripsey Rose Riversynn Laneal

Riyver Aanae Raine Ro'xxanne Love Roam Alton Ross Rock Solid Rockne David

Rogue Lera Peach Roialti Nyla Rommel Naier Romulus Ryan Rookh Chasity

Roper Sue Roryie Lorenzo Roseariellika Peace Rosmery Edith Rowdy Roy

Roxas Brian Rubeus Lee Rueger Wesley Rusher Wayne Rycker Lee

Ryette Leeann Rygar Talon Rygh James Rylix James Ryme Tilson Ryott Storm-Michelle

#missouri2021 #missouri #babynames #names #naming

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shopofthemoment · 8 months

Link

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: VHTF: Penny’s Big Bang Theory ✿ Y2K Lucky ✿ Asian Floral Print Sweatpants ✿ Pink.

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brookston · 11 months

Text

Holidays 6.3

Holidays

Air Force Academy Day (US)

American Space Walk Day

Bi-Pride Day

Casey at the Bat Day

Chimborazo Day (Ecuador)

Confederate Memorial Day (KY, LA, TN)

Defend Our Monuments Day of Action

Dr. Charles Drew Day

Economist Day (Buenos Aires, Argentina)

European Bicycle Day

Impersonate Authority Day

Insect Repellent Awareness Day

Intern Appreciation Day

Jack Jouett Day (Virginia)

Jefferson Davis Day (Florida)

Līgo (Latvia)

London Bridge Attack Day

Love Conquers All Day

Mabo Day (Australia)

Martyrs’ Day (Uganda)

McLovin Day

Mighty Casey Day

National Carl Day

National Itch Day

National Simp Day

Ni Una Menos Day (Argentina)

Opium Suppression Movement Day (Taiwan)

Phineas & Ferb Day

Pull Your Pants Up Day

Randouler Remembrance Day (Abeldane Empire)

Repeat Day

Robocop Day (Detroit)

Shab e-Barat (Night of Records; Bangladesh)

Shuffle Day

World Bicycle Day

Wonder Woman Day

World Clubfoot Day

World Laksa Day

Zoot Suit Riots Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

International Sommelier Day

National Chocolate Macaroon Day

National Egg Day

National Stuffed Shrimp Scholars Day

World Cider Day

1st Saturday in June

The Big Lunch (UK) [1st Saturday]

Butterfly Education & Awareness Day [1st Saturday]

Dare Day (North Carolina) [1st Saturday]

Do-Dah Parade (Kalamazoo, Michigan) [1st Saturday]

Drawing Day [1st Saturday]

Eel Festival (Jyllinge, Denmark) [1st Saturday]

International Lolita Day [1st Saturday]

International Table Top Day [1st Saturday]

International Ungulate Awareness Day [1st Saturday]

Nametag Day [1st Saturday]

National Black Bear Day [1st Saturday]

National Bowls Day (Canada) [1st Saturday]

National Bubbly Day [1st Saturday]

National Cheer Coach Day [1st Saturday]

National Cherry Pit Spitting Day [1st Saturday]

National Family Recreation Day [1st Saturday]

National Health & Fitness Day (Canada) [1st Saturday]

National Learn to Row Day [1st Saturday]

National Pineapple Day [1st Saturday]

National Play Outside Day [1st Saturday of Every Month]

National Prairie Day [1st Saturday]

National Trails Day [1st Saturday]

National Virginia Diverse Business Networking Saturday (Virginia) [1st Saturday]

Pencil Day [1st Saturday]

Quail Day (French Republic)

Satyr's Day (Silenus, Greek God of Beer Buddies and Drinking Companions) [1st Saturday of Each Month]

Turtle Races Day [1st Saturday]

Wicket World of Croquet (Indianapolis, Indiana) [First Saturday]

Independence Days

Kingdom of Sedang (Declared; 1888) [unrecognized]

Silofais (Declared; 2017) [unrecognized]

Vyomania (Declared; 2020) [unrecognized]

Feast Days

Bellona’s Day (Pagan)

Broken Dolls Day (Buddhist; Japan)

Callynteria (Day of Atonement & Cleaning of Athena’s Temple; Ancient Greece)

Cecillius (Christian; Saint)

Charles Lwanga and Companions (Roman Catholic Church)

Clotilde (Christian; Saint)

Dragon Boat Festival (a.k.a. Duanwu Jie Festival / 端午节; China) [5th Day of 5th Lunar Month]

Drink Like a Pirate Day (Pastafarian)

Festival of Bellona (Old Roman Goddess of War)

Festival of Cataclysmos (Cyprus)

Festival of Gaphi Mahso (Ayahuasca)

Full Moon [6th of the Year] (a.k.a. ...

Blooming Moon (Traditional)

Cold Moon (South Africa)

Dyad Moon (England, Wicca)

Festival of Goodwill, Festival of Christ & Humanity [Full Moon between 5.20-6.20]

Green Corn Moon (Cherokee)

Hatching Moon (Traditional)

Honey Moon (Traditional)

Horse Moon (Celtic)

Hot Moon (Alternate)

Lotus Moon (China)

Mead Moon (Traditional)

Planting Moon (Neo-Pagan)

Poson Full Moon Poya Day (Sri Lanka)

Rose Moon (Alternate, Colonial, North America)

Ryan Moran Day [1st FM in June]

Southern Hemisphere: Cold, Long Night’s, Oak

Strawberry Moon (Amer. Indian, Traditional)

Windy Moon (Choctaw)

World Invocation Day (a.k.a. Gemini Full Moon Festival)

Genesius (Christian; Saint)

Hildebrand (Positivist; Saint)

Kevin of Glendalough (a.k.a. Coemgen or Keivin; Christian; Saint)

Lifard (Christian; Saint)

Mushroom Sauce Day (Pastafarian)

Ovidius (Christian; Saint)

Pharmakos (Festival for Ancient Greek Goddess Charila)

Raoul Dufy (Artology)

Robbie (Muppetism)

Smurf Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Visakha Bucha Day (Buddha Day; Thailand)

Vladimirskaya (Russian Orthodox)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Lucky Day (Philippines) [32 of 71]

Sakimake (先負 Japan) [Bad luck in the morning, good luck in the afternoon.]

Premieres

Bataan (Film; 1943)

Beginners (Film; 2011)

Believe It or Else (WB MM Cartoon; 1939)

Big (Film; 1988)

Cinderella Man (Film; 2005)

Deep Purple in Rock, by Deep Purple (Album; 1970)

Dragnet (Radio Series; 1949)

Empty Sky, by Elton John (Album; 1969)

Entourage (TV Series; 2015)

Exodus, by Bob Marley & The Wailers (Album; 1977)

Layer Cake (Film; 2005)

Lickety-Splat (WB LT Cartoon; 1961)

Light My Fire, by The Doors (Song; 1967)

Lords of Dogtown (Film; 2005)

Nosferatu (Film; 1929)

Phantom of the Open (Film; 2022)

Polar Pals (WB LT Cartoon; 1939)

The Princess and the Goblin (Animated Film; 1994)

The Return of Martin Guerre (Film; 1983)

Scorpius, by John Gardner (James Bond Novel; 1988)

Shenandoah (Film; 1965)

Six Feet Under (TV Series; 2001)

Succession (TV Series; 2018)

Take It Easy, by The Eagles (Song; 1972)

The Turbo Charged Pre;ude for 2 Fat 2 Furious (Short Film; 2003) [F&F]

The Untouchables (Film; 1987)

Utopia (Intellivision video game; 1982)

War Games (Film; 1983)

Wu-Tang Forever, by The Wu-Tang Clan (Album; 1997)

X-Men: First Class (Film; 2011)

Today’s Name Days

Hildburg, Karl, Silvia (Austria)

Drago, Karlo (Croatia)

Tamara (Czech Republic)

Erasmus (Denmark)

Jolanta, Kanni, Kannike, Viola (Estonia)

Orvokki, Viola (Finland)

Kévin (France)

Hildburg, Karl, Karoline, Silvia (Germany)

Ieria, Ypatia (Greece)

Klotild (Hungary)

Carlo Lwanga, Clotilde, Olivia, Olivana, Oliviana, Oliviera, Olivera, Ovidio, Viera (Italy)

Dailis, Ineta, Inta, Intra, Jūnijs (Latvia)

Dovilė, Klotilda, Tautkantas (Lithuania)

Rakel, Rasmus (Norway)

Cecyliusz, Ferdynand, Klotylda, Konstantyn, Laurencjusz, Laurentyn, Laurentyna, Leszek, Paula, Tamara, Wawrzyniec (Poland)

Claudie, Dionisie, Ipatie, Luchilian, Paul (România)

Karolína (Slovakia)

Carlos, Clotilde, Kevin (Spain)

Gudmar, Ingemar (Sweden)

Pauline (Ukraine)

Chloe, Clotilda, Keven, Kevin, Kevina, Kevon (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 154 of 2024; 211 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 6 of week 22 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Huath (Hawthorn) [Day 20 of 28]

Chinese: Month 4 (Ding-Si), Day 16 (Red-Chen)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 14 Sivan 5783

Islamic: 14 Dhu al-Qada 1444

J Cal: 4 Sol; Foursday [4 of 30]

Julian: 21 May 2023

Moon: 100%: Full Moon

Positivist: 14 St. Paul (6th Month) [Hildebrand]

Runic Half Month: Odal (Home, Possession) [Day 9 of 15]

Season: Spring (Day 75 of 90)

Zodiac: Gemini (Day 13 of 32)

#calendar #Holidays

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