#the most ancient and enduring thing on these pages…

[h0rsegirlpercy]

So I got this screenshot and there’s TONS of Easter eggs in here (I can see the Minotaur, Medusa, cyclops, and Cerberus all after just a quick glance) but I look closer and:

[interstellarlyinlove]

Almost kiss (May 13th)

word count: 707

@wolfstarmicrofic

Sirius is so angry he’s going to explode. He wants to break something but he’s sitting on his bed and there’s nothing to break. “What do you mean?”

Sirius can tell that Remus is also angry. His skin is blotchy and he’s pacing around their dorm room. “I mean, there is so way in hell I’m going to risk any of you getting hurt.”

“But there is no risk!” Sirius wants to hold Remus by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. “Why won’t you let us help you?”

“Because you don’t know that there is no risk!” Remus screams. “Who decided that an animagus is werewolf bite immune, again?”

“Mcgonagall said–”

“Everything McGonagall said is theoretical. And I’m sure she'd agree with me if she knew why you were asking her in the first place. There is no real-life proof or evidence or–”

“Remus, listen to me,” Sirius says, trying to keep his voice level. He stands up and crowds Remus’ personal space because he wants Remus to listen to him. He puts his hand on Remus’ shoulder, and Remus holds his gaze. “Animals can’t be werewolves. It’s safe. Lycanthropy only affects humans and how lucky are we? That’s–”

“Don’t patronize me!” 

“I’m not,” Sirius says. He tries again, “I’m sorry. Remus, we want to do this for you.”

Remus lets out a shaky breath. “Sirius, I truly appreciate it. I know I’m being harsh but this is the nicest thing someone’s ever done to me, and I love you all so much. It’s incredible. I can’t even express how grateful I am that you thought of something like this.”

Sirius shakes his head. He thinks it’s because they’re standing so close but he can’t scream anymore no matter how much he wants to. Instead, he whispers, “Don’t talk like that. This isn’t a favor.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“You could never hurt us.”

“I would never forgive myself if–”

“We’d be safe, Re. We’d be helping you.”

“Sirius, you’re not hearing what I’m saying.”

Except Sirius is hearing what Remus is saying, he just doesn’t like it. Sirius wants to enter Remus’ brain and poke around until he makes him see sense. More than anything, Sirius wants to make the most horrible thing Remus has to go through incredibly too often suck less, because no one in the world deserves to endure horrible transformations on full moons, but especially not Remus.

Sirius wants to say all of this, and he looks Remus in the eye and opens his mouth to do just that, but nothing comes out. Because Remus is looking at him all heartbroken and somehow hopeful at the same time and Sirius has never seen anything more breathtaking in his life. He doesn’t know what’s come over him and he swears he’s still angry and furious but Sirius feels like he’d implode if he doesn’t kiss Remus this fucking instant. And, oh, that is a thought. 

Sirius is too angry to care, and he’ll scream some more after the fact, so he leans the tiniest bit closer and it may be his mind fucking him over but he swears Remus does the same, and they’re breathing in the same air and–

“This took us forever to find but– oh.”

Sirius jumps. He turns around and sees James and Peter standing in front of him. James is grinning and Peter is holding an enormous ancient-looking book.

“If I knew that making out with Remus was all that it took to make him change his mind I would’ve done it myself.”

“That’s not–”

“James! You–”

“It’s safe!” Peter says, cutting Remus and Sirius off and hitting Sirius’ chest with the book. Sirius yanks the book from Peter’s grip. “Look at the bookmarked pages.”

Remus is blushing when he takes the book from Sirius the very next second. Sirius thinks he’s blushing as well. “You shouldn’t dog ear library books, Peter, ”Remus mumbles as he starts flipping through.

Sirius chances a look at James and he immediately looks away because he can’t handle that much self-satisfaction right now. Only then does Sirius realize that it’s safe. He looks at James again and grins. 

This is Sirius’ most favorite day, for more reason than one.

[dawnslight-aegis]

intro/about post...thing

I keep meaning to make one of these so

welcome to @dawnslight-aegis, my ffxiv blog that is mostly dedicated to my dearest and most beloved lizard WoL, Kaede

here is a picture of her, please imagine me pulling it out of my wallet like a proud parent

anyway

I have a page for my most used tags here, Kaede's co-WoL and partner in crime can be found at @foamofthe-sea, and my fanfiction about both of them and also a couple of elf boys is primarily on AO3.

Kaede biography type things under the cut!

Name: Kaede Kazarishi (Kaede: summer maple, Kazarishi: jeweler)

Epithet: the True

Titles: Flame Captain, Warrior of Light, Champion of Eorzea, Savior of Ishgard, Traveler, and most recently, Viscountess of House Borel

Age: 25 at ARR start, 29 at EW end

Heritage/Affliation: Hannish on her father's side, Doman on her mother's. Born in the Mor Dhonan wilds, raised in New Sharlayan (birth-10) and La Noscea (11-21). Captain in the Immortal Flames, part-time resident of Ishgard.

Combat specializations: Holy Knight (PLD variant), Dark Knight, Red Mage, Light Mage (WHM variant)

Non-combat specializations: Master Goldsmith, Journeywoman Blacksmith/Armorer/Miner

Patron Deity: Halone (and Hydaelyn)

Elemental affinity: Ice/Light (primary), Fire (secondary), Wind (tertiary)

Ancient: Eos Erigeneia, she who held the seat of Azem

Soul color: Blue/pink/gold (sunrise/dawn)

Notable relationships: Marzanna Kimbatuul (best friend and fellow Warrior of Light), Aymeric de Borel (husband), Estinien Varlineau (close ally/mildly toxic bestie), Alphinaud and Alisaie Leveilleur (all-but-officially adopted siblings), Yuriko Kazarishi (mother), Roric Blackthorne (stepfather), Edmont de Fortemps (adopted father), Haurchefant Greystone (ally and former lover, deceased), Emet-Selch (complicated).

Assorted Symbolism because I think about this stuff too much

Zodiac: Libra Sun, Leo Moon, Aquarius Rising

Meyers-Briggs: INTJ (introverted/intuitive/thinking/judging)

Tree: Maple (strength, endurance, protection -- also it's in her name)

Gemstone: Labradorite (protection, strength, courage -- also it's blue)

Flower: White Daffodil (renewal, rebirth, chivalry)

Tarot: Judgement (absolution, rebirth, motivation)

have a couple of inspo memes too while I'm at it

[pesterloglog]

Jade Harley, Dave Strider, Barack Obama, Davebot

Candy, page 39

JADE: i think i see another one!

DAVE: oh snap

DAVE: youre right

DAVE: another shitty liberty

DAVE: good eye jade

DAVE: yo jade

DAVE: why dont you go ahead and rig that liberty ill be right there

DAVE: i wanna check something out down here first

JADE: what is it?

DAVE: idk probably nothing

DAVE: some ancient bullshit tucked away in the fucking jungle

DAVE: doesnt hurt to be thorough

JADE: ok dave

JADE: be careful!

DAVE: yeah

JADE: i love you

DAVE: i love you too

OBAMA: Hello, Mr. Strider.

OBAMA: I’ve been waiting a long time for you to show up.

DAVE: m... mr president

DAVE: its an honor sir

OBAMA: Come on now, Dave. We can’t be having that.

OBAMA: I’m nobody’s king. I’m a democratically elected representative who took an oath to serve his country and his people. People like you, Dave.

OBAMA: If anything, I should be the one bowing.

OBAMA: Hahaha, I’m not gonna bow, man. I was just pulling your leg.

DAVE: oh ok

OBAMA: I just want to talk to you for a little while. Is that alright, or do you have somewhere you need to be?

DAVE: oh

DAVE: i...

DAVE: no

DAVE: no sir i dont have anywhere to

DAVE: i mean

DAVE: yes sir

DAVE: its MORE than alright its such an honor to...

DAVE: what i mean is

DAVE: (fuck)

DAVE: mr president what i mean is im a huge fan of yours and i hope this doesnt sound fucked up but on some level i feel like ive been waiting my whole life for this moment??

OBAMA: I know, Dave.

OBAMA: Now, you probably weren’t aware of this. But I’m familiar with the work you’ve done for your country in the past. For the whole planet, actually.

OBAMA: Before you moved it, that is.

DAVE: you...

DAVE: you knew about him?

DAVE: or i mean

DAVE: me

OBAMA: Oh, yes.

OBAMA: Most people thought I was gone. But I was keeping an eye on events.

OBAMA: Wouldn’t miss it for anything.

DAVE: where did you go

OBAMA: I was doing what you did back then, when the world needed you.

OBAMA: I was doing what you’re doing now, under the same circumstances.

OBAMA: I was answering the call.

OBAMA: I went about it in a way no one at the time could understand.

OBAMA: You see, Dave. No one can really see the big picture.

OBAMA: That’s what real leadership is all about. Looking at the big picture, seeing the long road ahead, making the hard choices for the greatest good.

OBAMA: Not just decisions that lead to a better tomorrow, or to make sure the next year is better than the last. Or even the next decade.

OBAMA: You have to think about the next century, the next millennium.

OBAMA: Sometimes, you may even have to leave people wondering if you’ve forsaken them entirely, because your real duty is to concern yourself with the final destination of the planet. To make sure it stays safe along the hard journey and ends up being the best home it can be for both the human race and the many newcomers to our world.

OBAMA: Doing the right thing often means walking a long and lonely road, Dave.

OBAMA: But I’m guessing you’ve already figured this out.

DAVE: i guess so

DAVE: if you dont mind my asking sir

DAVE: i thought you died?

DAVE: well i mean i KNOW you did where im from with the meteors and all

DAVE: but from what i know about the history of the flooded earth timeline

DAVE: you served your two terms then just

DAVE: a little after that they say you disappeared

DAVE: so... you didnt die?

OBAMA: Oh, I certainly died, Dave.

OBAMA: Just not when they say I did.

OBAMA: Like I said, I was just answering the call.

OBAMA: Other brave heroes like you stepped in to fill the void I left behind. As I knew you all would.

OBAMA: And some say the death of those heroes was in vain, or a waste, since the human race was wiped out anyway. Just like they say my supposed death was a waste, a loss that humanity couldn’t endure.

OBAMA: But they were wrong.

OBAMA: Those heroes were fighting for something. Even if all you manage to accomplish is leaving behind a legacy to inspire others in the future who need that Hope to go on. Even if one of those in the future you end up inspiring is an alternate history version of yourself, Dave.

OBAMA: Haven’t you been improved by the knowledge of what you grew up to be in my time? Can you really say you’d be what you are today without the memory of him?

OBAMA: Or the memory of me, for that matter?

DAVE: no

DAVE: but like

DAVE: thats all good and totally inspiring and all but

DAVE: sorry if this is nosy but if you didnt die when you disappeared then how did you die

OBAMA: Most of that is classified, Dave.

OBAMA: Rest assured, it was a Heroic death that took place many years after my disappearance, upon which rested the fate of Paradox Space itself.

OBAMA: There were loose ends to tie up. Baggage from my distant past. You know how it is. Troubles from your childhood tend to follow you. Even after you move into the White House. Believe me.

DAVE: heh yeah i guess so

DAVE: what happened to you as a kid

DAVE: or is that classified too

OBAMA: No, it’s not classified. Because I never even told the government about it.

OBAMA: Can’t classify what you don’t know.

DAVE: damn

OBAMA: When I was a boy living in Hawaii, on my thirteenth birthday I was visited by a mysterious stranger.

OBAMA: He was an older man with a mustache. Kind of a corny, old-fashioned, adventuring type. He tried to convince me we were related. Of course, I thought he was full of shit.

OBAMA: To this day, I’m not sure about that. Maybe he was. I didn’t think much of his tall tale at the time, but what did pique my interest was his story.

OBAMA: He was voyaging all over the Pacific looking for a mysterious island, which supposedly had all the answers he’d spent his whole life searching for.

OBAMA: During his travels, he set up outposts all over the ocean to help with his search. Such as one near where I lived as a boy. The outpost had a laboratory, an archeological dig site, a network of underground tunnels, the works.

OBAMA: One time, I snuck in there and did some exploration of my own. Somewhere in the maze of underground ruins, I found a transporter pad, just like the one that brought you here.

OBAMA: It sent me to a new realm. A place they called the Medium.

OBAMA: Others were there. Kids my age. I made friends that lasted a lifetime.

OBAMA: Over the years, I would return there now and then, when I felt I was needed.

OBAMA: I made one final trip there after serving my terms in office. As I said, I kept an eye on Earth events. But I knew I could never return. Not with the work that still needed to be done.

OBAMA: But before my Heroic death, I made sure to have my affairs in order, to fulfill certain cosmic necessities of the future. Such as our meeting here today, Dave.

DAVE: holy shit

OBAMA: I captchalogued a ghost imprint of my brain. You remember how to do that, don’t you?

OBAMA: I stored the imprint in this holographic projection device.

OBAMA: You see, Dave, it was critical that I had a chance to speak with you. But only when the time was right. Only once you had made it all this way, standing ready to defend the future of Earth C.

OBAMA: I know what you’re going through. There’s a lot to be emotional about in these trying times.

OBAMA: Hey, why don’t we take a walk. You’ll have a chance to collect yourself. And there’s something I’d like you to see.

DAVE: mr president

DAVE: you said...

DAVE: i reminded you of the adult dave from your timeline

OBAMA: That’s right.

DAVE: so wait

DAVE: how did you know adult dave if you were from the original timeline

OBAMA: Dave, come on now.

OBAMA: Surely you must know I’m no stranger to timeline shenanigans myself.

DAVE: oh yeah

DAVE: of course what was i thinking

DAVE: anyway no offense but

DAVE: are you really sure i remind you of him

DAVE: there are a lot of times where i dont feel like im at all living up to that guys example

DAVE: a lot of times i feel like im just going along with shit

DAVE: like my buddy organizes a badass rebellion and im just like duh yeah alright

DAVE: sounds cool guess ill scout around the jungle and rig a bunch of shitty statues of liberty to explode if those are the orders

OBAMA: Rig the what to do what now?

DAVE: oh uh

DAVE: yeah maybe never mind that

DAVE: its just a stupid mission im on and tbh karkat probably just sent us on it so we dont get ourselves killed stupidly

DAVE: but compared to that guy i apparently turned out to be

DAVE: i dunno

DAVE: i feel like

DAVE: a lesser version of myself somehow

DAVE: not lesser maybe just like

DAVE: i somehow ended up as the version of me who didnt stay as true myself as i could have

DAVE: like

DAVE: i entered this world already considered a god

DAVE: already famous

DAVE: already celebrated as a genius

DAVE: what was there left to achieve

DAVE: i still did a lot of incredible and stupid shit that i guess im pretty proud of

DAVE: idk

DAVE: something feels hollow about a lot of what ive done the last bunch of years

DAVE: or i guess about a lot of stuff in general

DAVE: its not just accomplishments or stuff like that it goes deeper i think

DAVE: like karkat managed to rise to the occasion and defend his people but i hardly had anything to do with that

DAVE: it was mostly him

DAVE: hes turned into someone pretty incredible really

OBAMA: You still care a lot about Karkat, don’t you?

DAVE: uh well

DAVE: yeah?

DAVE: of course i do hes my friend

OBAMA: Are you sure that’s all he is, Dave?

DAVE: i...

DAVE: i love my wife

DAVE: jade has been the best thing that ever happened to me

DAVE: the day i decided to marry her and like

DAVE: get off the fence

DAVE: stop insulting her by acting so casual about it like our thing was no big deal

DAVE: she deserved me being all the way into it

DAVE: she deserves everything

DAVE: and

DAVE: i KNOW this is all true

OBAMA: But?

DAVE: my bro died a long time ago

DAVE: fuckin hung himself for some damn reason

DAVE: for a little while i had a bro

DAVE: i could talk to him about stuff

DAVE: i did a little bit

DAVE: but i dunno if we got THAT deep into...

DAVE: whatever

OBAMA: You can always talk to me about anything, Dave.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: thanks man

DAVE: i guess what im trying to say is

DAVE: i miss him

DAVE: a lot

OBAMA: I think Dirk would be proud if he could see how you turned out.

OBAMA: In fact, I know it.

DAVE: no

DAVE: i mean yeah i do kinda miss him too

DAVE: i try not to think about him much because

DAVE: well thats a whole thing

DAVE: what i meant was

DAVE: i miss karkat

DAVE: i think i messed up

DAVE: i didnt do the right thing a long time ago and now

DAVE: even though i love jade

DAVE: i feel like im living a lie

DAVE: i try not to even think any of this stuff but now that im letting myself not only think it but say it i feel like im panicking

DAVE: i dont know what to do

DAVE: i dont...

DAVE: mr president

DAVE: can you keep a secret

OBAMA: Yes I can, Dave.

OBAMA: These days, keeping secrets is practically all I ever do down here.

DAVE: i think

DAVE: i think im gay

OBAMA: Over the course of our lives, we all tend to believe we’re a lot of different things.

OBAMA: One year, you’re this. Another, you’re that. Later in life, you start pushing forty, and start worrying you’ve been believing the wrong thing about yourself the whole time.

OBAMA: I’ve had my share of doubts about all that, just like any other man.

OBAMA: And I’ve had plenty of the same kind of struggles as you, Dave.

DAVE: wait

DAVE: you...

OBAMA: Identity, sexuality, gender, all that stuff is about as illusory as I am, standing before you here.

OBAMA: Is this the real me? Who can really say.

OBAMA: Depends on what real means, or what I even mean when I say “me.”

OBAMA: For that matter, are you even the real you?

OBAMA: Haven’t you been asking yourself that question one way or another all your life?

DAVE: yeah

OBAMA: Believing is the key to understanding the truth underlying the words, the truth underlying the ideas they represent, and the truth underlying who we are as individuals.

OBAMA: The power of belief, the power of Hope, that’s what endows that which is intangible, ephemeral, or uncertain with a sense of reality.

OBAMA: It brings focus to the insubstantial, the mirages of the mind, the multiplicity of what is possible, of what could be, and isolates it—concentrates it—to turn it into that which is.

OBAMA: And the result of that, Dave, is what we call truth.

OBAMA: The truth of oneself can be very specific, if one wills it to be.

OBAMA: Statements such as, I am gay, I am straight, I am a man, I am a woman, these are statements about an individual that gain strength through the power of belief we invest in them.

OBAMA: But there is another more generalized truth about a person that can emerge when such conviction is absent. When the partitions of the mind dissolve, and the boundaries between everything you are now and everything you might have become begin to fade away.

DAVE: oh

DAVE: youre talking about that ultimate self stuff

OBAMA: I am indeed, Dave.

DAVE: wow

DAVE: havent heard about that in so long

DAVE: rose used to talk about it all the time

DAVE: dirk would rant about it a lot too

OBAMA: He sure did.

DAVE: wait

DAVE: you mentioned dirk earlier

DAVE: did you like

DAVE: actually KNOW him??

OBAMA: Oh... we’ve met on a few occasions.

DAVE: thats

DAVE: how is that possible

DAVE: he killed himself

OBAMA: Did he, now?

DAVE: are you saying thats not what happened

OBAMA: I’m saying you know as well as I that it’s awfully hard to pin down exactly what happened to whom, depending on which frame of reference we might be talking about.

DAVE: wow

DAVE: so like... he...

OBAMA: I learned a lot from him.

OBAMA: Met up with him as a young man, as I was just beginning to explore the wonders of my session.

OBAMA: He taught me about many things. Combat, philosophy, life, love...

DAVE: love???

DAVE: hold on are you saying

DAVE: that...

OBAMA: Now, Dave. I can’t go around disclosing everything under the sun. Plenty of this is still under the umbrella of executive privilege.

OBAMA: Loose lips sink ships, as they say.

DAVE: right right

DAVE: so... somehow he met you and uh

DAVE: trained you and stuff

DAVE: and talked about the ultimate self

DAVE: i remember my dirk would go off the deep end about that stuff sometimes

DAVE: and maybe it made him fucking snap because then he just offed himself and that was that

DAVE: but rose used to talk about it too

DAVE: probably even more

DAVE: but one day she just stopped and never mentioned it again

DAVE: do you know what like

DAVE: happened to her

OBAMA: She’s settled happily into the specific. That’s her path now.

OBAMA: All of you have embraced that life, in this safely sequestered version of planet Earth.

OBAMA: All of you until now, Dave.

OBAMA: This is why you’re here.

OBAMA: I believe you’re ready to wake up.

DAVE: ...

OBAMA: Now, look.

OBAMA: A human body, even one that’s been elevated to god tier status, cannot withstand the stresses put on it by the awesome power of the Ultimate Self.

OBAMA: You’d quickly become sick and wither away. We can’t have that.

OBAMA: So before I died, I made sure to create this brand-new body for you.

OBAMA: I have to admit, it’s some of my finest work. A real beauty.

OBAMA: It should serve you well in your new life. A life where the world will need you more than ever, Dave.

OBAMA: Not only this world, but the future of reality.

OBAMA: If this sounds confusing, don’t worry. You’ll understand everything once I help you ascend.

OBAMA: So what do you say? At the end of the day, this is a choice that belongs to you.

OBAMA: Are you ready to accept your destiny, Dave Strider?

DAVE: yes

DAVE: absolutely

DAVE: i have never been more ready for anything in my life mr president

DAVEBOT: its about fuckin time

[mydonkeyfeet]

Autistic hyper-endurance of fun?

Does autism have a thing where one lacks the neurotypical degradation-of-fun mechanism? I still don't know if I'm autistic or not (most online tests say not quite) but I've read that neurotypicals have a friendship degradation mechanism, which I definitely lack, where eventually they lose interest in old friends and move on. For me, I tend to think with naive optimism that every friendship will last forever. Fortunately, many of my friends are neurodiverse and also lack that mechanism.

But I've noticed that some autistic family members and I have experienced a thing where something stays fun or funny for us long past everyone else.

At my job in my 20s, we all made a game of hiding plastic Easter eggs in unexpected places all over our workplace, with silly notes or drawings inside, and when we found one, we would hide it for the next person. Eventually, my coworkers would just give them to me to hide again because they got tired of the effort (though they still enjoyed finding them. I think.)

In a less happy experience, in high school my friends and I would write silly stories together, one sentence at a time, passing the pages back and forth throughout every class. Some stories were short and finished in one period, and some were long and lasted a whole semester, but they were all hilarious. One friend who I'll call Prune had been my friend for nearly our whole K-12 years, and we wrote many stories together. But during our final year, suddenly for some reason she started hating my existence. I could not figure out why, I still don't know, but at the time all I could think was "Maybe if we write more stories, she'll laugh and have fun and we'll get back to normal." And she seemed to hate our stories too, though she still wrote ones with our other friends. She would even pass them to a classmate and ask them not to return it to me until the end of class, making them seem like the bad guy. While I thought we could have a fun collaboration like a game of catch, I realize now that it was more like I was the stupid naive but innocent dog thinking, "Human is sad. Maybe we should play ball? Throw my ball? Will that make you happy? Throw it?" and she was the person holding the slobbery ball who is absolutely sick of playing fetch with that stupid dog. (She did still write stories with our other friends though, so I'm still clueless why she hated me. They kept writing stories with me too, and seemed to keep enjoying it.)

Anyway, I realized today that my dad, who we now suspect may have been autistic (who died last year) also exhibited some of these hyper-endurance-of-fun mechanisms with me that drove me up the wall as a child and teen. Long past it was appropriate, he was playing baby pinchy games with me that I hated, and speaking with my old baby talk that embarrassed me. And he knew I was irritated but was probably clueless why, just like I was with Prune. He thought we were sharing a fun childhood memory, and I was annoyed that he was fixated on something from my ancient history that I no longer enjoyed, and that he still saw me as a silly baby. And like Prune, I didn't have the words or the nerves to explain it to him.

Nowadays, I have to remind myself that what's fun for me may not stay fun for my friends (including remaining in a fandom or participating in our old activities) as well as reminding myself that they have a friendship degradation mechanism, and they're allowed to move on from me. I'm not actually a sad dog with a slobbery ball.

But I'm 45 and I still haven't forgiven Prune.

[spaceorphanssecondbreakfastclub]

SO's Bookclub: Pandora's Jar

Title: Pandora's Jar Author: Natalie Haynes Genre: Non-Fiction Literary Analysis

Goodreads Summary:

Now, in Pandora’s Jar, Natalie Haynes – broadcaster, writer and passionate classicist – redresses this imbalance. Taking Greek creation myths as her starting point and then retelling the four great mythic sagas: the Trojan War, the Royal House of Thebes, Jason and the Argonauts, Heracles, she puts the female characters on equal footing with their menfolk. The result is a vivid and powerful account of the deeds – and misdeeds - of Hera, Aphrodite, Athene and Circe. And away from the goddesses of Mount Olympus it is Helen, Clytemnestra, Jocasta, Antigone and Medea who sing from these pages, not Paris, Agamemnon, Orestes or Jason.

Review:

Pandora's Jar is a very in-depth, feminist look at the women in Greek Mythology. Each chapter tackles a different woman, and takes a look at the role(s) she plays within the mythology and our own current pop culture. And in doing so - also takes a look at how women - specifically in Greek myth - have been reduced and radicalized to their most extreme features, often losing the complexities of what women have to endure - then and now - in the process.

I really enjoyed reading this book. Not only did Haynes contextualize how women were portrayed back when these myths were being read and performed in Ancient Greek times but also holds a mirror against today's society, and how we've distorted these women's stories often times to placate and uphold the men's stories.

The fascinating thing about this book is that these women are such different women, and have a huge array of different personality types. But the thing that they all have in common is that they're often misunderstood -- and forced into being two dimensional versions to enhance the male narrative instead of being explored as the complex characters they tend to be. She breaks down who they are, what they represent within society, and how they can be valued on a more complex level than often used in pop culture.

Haynes has a great writing style -- she's often humorous in her discussion, and makes the reading feel light and conversational even when getting into some dense and sometimes heavy material. And while being clearly feminist in stance, the writing never feels heavy handed or preachy.

I felt like I learned a lot, and gave me something new to think about when approaching these old myths.

I recommend for anyone who likes digging deep into Greek mythological characters and breaking down some fantastic women characters.

Rating: 4.5 Stars

[bloodredx]

Day 7: Routine

Holding to modern nights, there is little to be done in regular steps, nor should this form hold care to it. Chaos is the opposite of Order, the Children know that well. It is not that this form cannot find interest in the routine, quite the contrary. For the Beloved hold such well-groomed cycles. From eggs, to larvae, to pupas, finally adults. The space between their finality has been most beautiful, despite the consequence of their existence. Even the Beloved sometimes shiver at their approach of this form. No blame shall be put on them. How divine then, that they remain so simple, so complex after all this time. Life stages progressing with the changes of seasons, times, blooming, searing. Short in their time, but forever in their impact. They effect the blooms, the birds, life big and small.

Life, such a curious occurrence. Shame that this form had not conceived of it first. In truth, the Beloved were an original shame, a way for this form to remember what once was. As wings were removed to create Water, Fire, Earth, and Wind. A memorial to glory given freely. Still paying tribute undue. Not without thanks of course. For their whims allow whispers of intrigue, research, truths. But the Beloved also speak of lies. Lies most insidious, things they could not possibly make up on their own. Those lies had to be witnessed. And it breaks all cycle for them. They cluster in fear, coming home to roost in great boughs in order to regain a touch of normalcy. They know better than to ask this form, but they come home none the less. Chattering with questions and inquisitions. Would answers be told, they would be given.

For the Precious Living, there is beauty in the routine, though few notice until Chaos destroys it. The Precious Living turning the cycle into a spiral. An exercise in entropy none had taken pause to consider. Though, one might reason the limited sight of such beings cannot conjecture beyond the scope of their own. Perhaps the Vestiges whispered too strongly. Perhaps the Children did not Sing loud enough. Perhaps this form simply wants to See. If it could at all. No matter. The page will turn, the story continues. What rises must fall. So too shall all.

--

The sun had just sank beyond the height of the pine branches, their needles drooping slightly with the weight of the day’s freshly fallen snow. A few animals danced between the branches, running up and down trunks to garner what they could from the last of the day’s light. Arthur watched, amused, muttering gently to the fir planted closest to the tower’s balcony. “Xer’hana certainly doesn’t waste her efforts up here, no? How do you manage?”

With endurance. The response came with a gentle rustle as the wind whipped through its boughs, though no words were spoken by the ancient plant.

Arthur nodded politely. “Of course, remind me once I return to our Mother to learn the thickness of your bark.”

The temperature dropped steadily as the light continued to fade from the sky. Ages not enough. Not for Oak.

“Perhaps not. No need to be so rough with it, old chap.” Arthur chuckled dryly.

Corpse rises.

“Ah, is the young lady awake?”

Unnatural. Each night.

“Quite, but she’s quite the peach once you get to know her.” Arthur drew a rolled parchment from his robes, opening it slowly and reading the scratched penmanship placed in dark ink. “Ah, we’ll have to catch up later, old friend. Time tables to keep and all.”

The old fir offered no response, but Arthur could swear he felt a bemused chuckle in the bark of the old tree. It seems his brothers also knew the fate of the task before them, but as rude as the fir had been, he was polite enough not to drive home the truth. Sometimes the elderly are due more tact than they give. A sardonic snort cut the air as he stepped inside, closing the door off to the worst of the bitter cold. Though he knew his pupil would probably prefer him to leave it open.

The room itself was decked in finery and foliage. A large wood table was set to the side with a few chairs and no shortage of books and blank parchments. The few candles that dotted the rooms remained unlit, mostly unneeded by their owner but there for politeness if nothing else. A normal bedroom all things considered, a wash basin, an armoire for clothes, a chest for jewelry and makeup. Though the exception, a great stone sarcophagus was tucked behind thick red velvet curtains stood out like a sore thumb. Nothing had moved behind the rippling red folds of the fabric, but Arthur knew it was only a matter of moments. Until then, he distracted himself by actually make note of the words on the page before him. Upon utmost request, there will be the following adjustments to education. Arthur rolled his eyes after taking in the whole message. “Absolute drivel.” He tutted his tongue and rolled it back up.

Sounds of grinding of stone against itself forced him into a proper standing position. No doubt the lid of the tomb was too heavy for even an adult man to move alone, still he had heard her do it a plethora of times; a silly bemused smirk crossed his lips each night. The grinding stopped for a moment, the sound of bare feet padding against the floor scratched slightly in his ear, and the grinding returned if only to set the room right. A few heavy inhalations were hidden under the discord, and the sound of ice cracking and water drops hitting the floor echoed for the briefest of seconds, before the shuffling of dressing began.

“I trust you rested well, your highness?” Arthur greeted her cheerfully once she emerged ready. With little success, Arthur tried to stave off most of his sarcasm. “Apparently we have quite the packed schedule, Princess Serena.”

Dark veins crossed her pale skin, eyes that were deep set had sunken in with the day’s weariness were glowing with the eerie crimson of her blood. Poor thing is starving. They ought to offer her more. His thought dispelled by the soft reply that barely crept across the room. “Very well.” Serena’s head bowed slightly, eyes glued to the floor.

“My apologies, blossom, my mind’s gotten away from me again. You must be feeling dreadful. Here.”

Flexing his fingers, the fibers that made up his hand unwove, revealing the constituent tangle of branches and leaves, producing a small sealed container into what was his palm. The branches knitted back together, returning into a hand which gently passed it over. She cracked open the lid, a stiff smell of iron met the air. Greedily, she placed her lips at the rim and drained its contents in one swift motion. Some color returned to her face and the glow of her eyes faded back to their beautiful brown, prompting another saccharine smile in Arthur.

“Better?” She nodded swiftly. “Good. Now, your mother has requested certain elements be altered for your course of education. Seems to her it isn’t particularly appropriate for a young lady such as yourself to be learning the gruesome nature of war, combat or strategy. Nor the practical applications of herbs, proper irrigation, methods and knowledge of livestock husbandry, nor course of base economics, trade, or distribution.”

A quiet sound of resignation left her nose. “Of course.” If the young lady had stronger opinions, she certainly didn’t voice them.

One must question what her majesty wishes her daughter do. “Come now, no need to pout.” With one quick motion, the parchment ripped before him and he unceremoniously scattered the remains of the order into the rubbish.

“Sir!” She yelped at the sudden action, a hint of fear leaking into her face.

“I see no reason to alter my lesson plan for today. We had just been discussing foxglove, and getting to the most fascinating parts of its maintenance and care, not to mention the more practical applications of its toxins.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Finish getting ready, blossom. I’ll bear brunt of all consequences.”

“R-right.”

As she turned away, Arthur struck up a candle, watching the smoke rise slowly, falling apart into smaller wisps. Only then did his smile fade. If her majesty wants things done a certain way, she had best learn to go through appropriate channels. No seal from King Valenfir, how bloody lazy. A kingdom is not run on calligraphy and etiquette alone. Any more disruptions and I’ll- He shook his head as the princess returned, smile planted back by the time he turned to face her. “Ah, let’s get ourselves to the garden, get ourselves started.” He offered an arm, and Serena took it gently, a note of hesitancy to her touch. “The air is so crisp tonight. Certainly the gazebo will freshen our focus, ah?”

(OC-tober challenge by @oc-tober2022 can be found here.)

[semper-legens]

65. The Dolphins of Laurentum, by Caroline Lawrence

Owned: Yes Page count: 207 My summary: Times are tough for Flavia and her family. Her father’s ship was wrecked at sea, leaving them bankrupt. To get them out of Ostia, her father sends her and her friends away to their friend Pliny the Younger’s villa - but rumours of treasure in a nearby shipwreck might save them all. But Lupus has other ideas of what to use the treasure for... My rating: 3.5/5

Back into Roman Mysteries, and it’s time for a story about Lupus! The character, not the disease. Throughout the early books, there is an enduring mystery about Lupus and exactly what happened to him. His tongue was cut out, and he was abandoned on the streets of Ostia, but nobody knew why and Lupus wasn’t telling. Well, here’s our opportunity to find out. The thing I’m noticing as I progress through these books is how dark they are for a series aimed at the 8-12 market. It shouldn’t surprise me - I’ve always been drawn to such media - but Lawrence doesn’t really sugarcoat how brutal life in Ancient Rome could be, even for children. We see that with Nubia, whose fate could have been horrible had Flavia not been there, and now we’re getting Lupus’ side of it.

Lupus is the son of a Greek sponge diver, whose mother was lusted after by his uncle, a slave dealer. His uncle killed Lupus’ father, said he killed his mother, cut his tongue out, and abandoned him in Ostia. This explains something of the dual nature of Lupus’ character - he’s seen to be at once a cheeky, mischievous kid (he’s the youngest of the four) but also have this dark core to him. Lupus spends this book trying to get the treasure so he can hire an assassin to kill his uncle. When that fails, he tries to do the job himself. He’s, like, nine. Poor kid. One thing I like about this is how Lawrence walks the balance between this darker material and being appropriate enough for her audience. Ancient Rome was a horrible place to live, and while this series doesn’t go into the gory details of every terrible thing that could happen, it’s still interested in not sanitising this era, which I appreciate.

Meanwhile, back in Pliny the younger’s villa, there’s a love triangle going on. Everyone’s lusting after Jonathan’s sister Miriam, despite the fact that she’s betrothed to Flavia’s uncle Gaius. Not that Gaius is too quick about getting married - understandable, given that he lost his home and farm to the eruption of Vesuvius. This made me a lil uncomfortable when I read it as a kid, and feels even weirder now given that Miriam is 14 and all of her potential suitors are at least five years older. Gaius is in his thirties! Anyway, unlike earlier love triangles centred on Miriam, this one felt a bit like padding; I get it, everyone loves Miriam, she’s the most beautiful woman to ever exist. But I’m not sure how necessary this was.

But yeah, this book’s mostly about revenge, and I really like how it showed Lupus becoming completely absorbed by the idea of revenge while still showing that he’s a kid, he’s not going to be as singlemindedly driven as an adult in his situation. There’s a balance going on in Lupus’ mind between his quest to take his uncle down versus him wanting to just live his life - as represented by the dolphins the kids swim with earlier. And in the end, he kind of gets his revenge. He doesn’t kill his uncle, but his uncle still dies in trying to get the treasure to redeem himself to Lupus, and ends up leaving his ship to Lupus. Lupus is still messed up about it, but he’s more at peace now that his uncle can’t hurt anyone. It’s a little more complex than the straightforward ‘revenge is bad’ message of some kids’ media, which I appreciate.

Next up, still on boats, for some historical fact and the fate of two doomed vessels.

[sacrificialmaiid]

As the third hour commences, Milena finally feels her body become numb enough that her mind wanders. The birth of the second hour had been unbearable, the strain of the stance that she was ordered to hold having become agony. Her muscles had twitched and trembled uncontrollably with no comfortable place to settle into and she had felt stark terror on multiple occasions that the silver platter upon which a filled wine glass rests would go sliding off her shoulders and clatter to the ground. In this event, she is sure that either one of two scenarios would be inevitable: that the Countess would make things much worse for her, or that she would be sent away completely and dispassionately. The most terrifying result of this threat is that she is not sure which option would hurt her more.

She is bent double on the floor, the skin of her knees pinched between sharp bone and ancient mahogany, her hands linked together behind her back -- it is one of those rare occasions where she wishes that she had the assistance of manacles to help her hold them together, but alas, she is on her own here. Her nose is centimetres away from the floor, and she has watched droplets of sweat gather at its pointed tip before plip-plopping their way to the wood below. Her hair hangs in a honey-coloured veil either side of her face, trapping in the heat of the fire, split in two across the nape of her neck and growing damp beneath the quickly warming silver plate resting between her shoulder blades and the base of her skull.

After the pain had peaked to the point at which Milena had thought she would never be able to endure it, miraculously, it had seemed to dull some with each following moment. She knows that when she is finally released, it will all come flooding immediately back the moment that she shifts her limbs, but for now the relief is a Godsend.

From her position here on the floor, she can see very little of the Countess - primarily the hem of her dress and the point of one shoe creeping out from beneath it. The Lady Dimitrescu has said nothing, the room horrifically silent save for the crackle of the fire and the turning pages of her book, interspersed now and again with a low swallow when she sees fit to lift the wine glass from Milena's back and take a long pull from it. Each time it is set back on its platter, Milena holds her breath and prays that her balance will not give out -- thus far, it hasn't.

With her body numb, her delirious mind sees fit to stray. She thinks the most peculiar thoughts, any sense of focus and concentration having waned somewhere between the second and third hour. Getting through the earlier strains of pain had been the most difficult, when she had been alert enough to really feel them. She had latched onto thoughts of anything else, her family and her home more than anything, to get her through. She thought of her mother's arthritic fingers peeling open the document of payment that would be delivered on the first day of each month and the food and the clothes that it would buy them all. Dimitrescu wealth, a vague shred of it, going back into the Hofer account. It's a poor consolation prize, but it is enough to keep her resolute.

Her hands are slippery with sweat and she digs her fingernails into them to sustain her grip.

Hands. She thinks of the Countess' hands, clad always in leather gloves. She wonders what they must look like underneath, how those claws unsheathe, how they came to be there at all. She cannot see them from here, but she can smell the rich leather and hear it creak. She wonders if they are as horrific and beautiful as the rest of the Lady. Milena's hands are calloused by work, but otherwise small and soft. She wonders how they might look side by side. She wonders why she cares. She blinks blearily and realises that she can no longer feel them. They do not even thrum with her pulse anymore.

The Countess has called her a pretty thing, in a tone full of sharp, cooing mockery, and a thing is truly what she has become. She considers the line between girl and thing and where it can be drawn now that she has been constrained to one position, to one purpose, for so many hours now. She wants to cry and to beg for mercy, but she knows that this would not make her a good and obedient girl. Not only is that what the Lady wishes to see, but it is what will keep the blood pumping through Milena's veins.

Admittedly, she is tired. She is so tired that she squeezes her eyes shut tightly, to trap the tears that swell up behind them.

Surely, she thinks, the wine glass must be almost empty.

@dimitresca

[biblehistory]

Unveiling the Rich Tapestry of Bible History: From Genesis to Revelation

The Bible stands as one of the most influential and enduring texts in human history, shaping the beliefs, cultures, and moral frameworks of societies across the globe. Its pages are not merely a compilation of religious teachings but also a chronicle of human experiences, struggles, triumphs, and divine interventions. To understand the impact of the Bible, one must embark on a journey through its rich tapestry of history, from the very beginning in Genesis to the prophetic visions of Revelation.

Genesis: The Beginning of All Things

The journey through Bible history begins with Genesis, often referred to as the book of origins. Here, the narrative unfolds with the creation of the universe, the emergence of humanity, and the establishment of the covenant between God and His people. From Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden to Noah and the great flood, Genesis lays the foundation for the rest of biblical history, introducing themes of sin, redemption, and the divine plan for humanity.

Exodus: Liberation and Covenant

The story of Exodus marks a pivotal moment in Bible history, recounting the liberation of the Israelites from slavery in Egypt under the leadership of Moses. This narrative not only highlights the power of God's intervention but also establishes the covenant relationship between God and His chosen people. Through miraculous events such as the parting of the Red Sea and the giving of the Ten Commandments at Mount Sinai, Exodus underscores the importance of faith, obedience, and the pursuit of justice.

Kings and Prophets: The Rise and Fall of Nations

As Bible history progresses, the focus shifts to the rise and fall of kingdoms and empires, as documented in the books of Kings and Chronicles. From the reigns of David and Solomon to the divided kingdom of Israel and Judah, these accounts provide insights into the political, social, and religious dynamics of ancient civilizations. The prophets emerge as crucial figures, delivering messages of warning, repentance, and hope amidst periods of turmoil and disobedience.

The Life of Jesus: Fulfillment of Prophecy

Central to Bible history is the life and ministry of Jesus Christ, whose teachings and miracles are recorded in the four Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. His birth, death, and resurrection fulfill centuries-old prophecies, demonstrating God's love and redemption for humanity. Through parables, healings, and encounters with diverse individuals, Jesus embodies compassion, forgiveness, and the Kingdom of God, inviting all to follow Him and experience abundant life.

Acts and Epistles: Spreading the Good News

Following Jesus' ascension, the early Christian church emerges as a vibrant community fueled by the Holy Spirit, as depicted in the book of Acts. Through the missionary journeys of apostles such as Paul, Peter, and others, the message of salvation spreads beyond Jerusalem to the ends of the earth. The Epistles provide practical guidance and encouragement to believers, addressing theological questions, moral challenges, and the enduring hope found in Christ.

Revelation: The Culmination of History

The final book of the Bible, Revelation, offers apocalyptic visions that unveil the ultimate triumph of God's kingdom over evil and injustice. Through vivid imagery and symbolic language, it depicts the return of Christ, the defeat of Satan, and the establishment of a new heaven and earth. Revelation serves as a reminder of the divine sovereignty, justice, and mercy that shape the course of human history and offer hope for the future.

Conclusion: The Enduring Legacy of Bible History

As we traverse the landscape of Bible history, we encounter a tapestry woven with threads of faith, perseverance, redemption, and divine providence. From the creation of the world to the promise of a new creation, the Bible reflects the human experience in all its complexity and diversity. Its narratives inspire, challenge, and transform lives, transcending time and culture to speak to the hearts of individuals across generations. In exploring Bible history, we discover not only the past but also the present and future significance of its message, inviting us to journey deeper into the timeless truths it contains.

Also Read:- 

Bible Lessons

Bible Principle

Bible Stories

Bible Study

Online Bible

Bible Teachings

Bible Verses

Free Onlie Bible

Online Bible

Scripture Online

[fangsforhire]

LUCIFER.

A mere whisper in the wind. An entity said to be inherently evil. To be ensnared by Satan was to be beyond corrupted. For he seduced even the most innocent souls prompting them to sin. Then again what was considered immoral? Didn’t good exist because evil did? The world wasn’t black and white, it was encompassed by grey. ( Nature required a balance; to even the playing field. No one was born sinister, time and trauma stripped you down to flesh and bone and devoured your virtues. ) Every creature had a tipping point, a peripheral moment when the scale could tilt and they could change. Everything had the potential to be become a monster. Lucien knew better than anyone that darkness lingered deep within even those considered holy and pure.

So what stuck up arse had created the bible? Didn’t religion exist as a form of control? So parents could tell their children to stay in line and not commit crime? It was amusing really. ( He’d never imagined he would be forced to analyse such blasphemy. ) Yet there he was, advanced eyes darting across its ancient pages, taking a deep drag on the cigarette between his lips. Inhaling, exhaling. The nicotine helping to curb his cravings; for they were vast and many outside the open car window. Humanity going about their day, taunting the predator underneath his skin.

Fingers itched to rip out the pages, to rewrite the contradictions he was unravelling for the - how many times had it been now? ( How many times had he subjected himself to this purgatory? ) Tongue lashed his upper lip in frustration, smoke billowing as he stubbed out the cigarette and allowed the world to fall away, concentration re-established. Dusk fell and finally, the book was shoved onto the passenger’s seat, hands running down his face; mind burning with repressed memories; shoving against the telepathic mental barricade. HYDRA having done their number on him; amongst others, and yet, he had never forgotten that name.

SAMAEL.

The label of the fallen. How it had plagued him, causing thrashing muscle to tangle in sheets, haunting him while heavy within slumber. It didn’t make sense; not all the pieces fit together smoothly, they were jagged and sharp and left him unfulfilled. Demonic confession having taken some time to digest and by then - back in his own world - it had been too late. ( Not that there was much difference between them. Humanity ruled the roost, the superior species and the rest of the things that went bump in the night, stalked the shadows. ) It irked him, his hatred of them undeniable and yet, he also endured the fact, forging ephemeral connections with a select few who took his fancy, travelling throughout the centuries, intertwined by mortals. It was inevitable really. He had naively assumed upon a time, he could avoid them. That emotions were impotent. Yet since then, he had learned better, accepting they existed and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Not to mention how exhilarating it was to play with them. ( To flirt and watch their cheeks flush. To share stolen glances, their limbs parting. The soft pulse thudding into a vein, increasing as their adrenaline took over. ) They gave themselves away so easily, enthralled by his presence. Drawn in like a moth to a flame. Even now, he could see one across the street, a petite female, her thoughts deafening. ‘No don’t look, no don’t look - he’s young enough to be your-’ He smirked watching as she stumbled across the sidewalk, far from his type and yet he was smug all the same. Allowing her voice to fade to the back of his mind; searching across the city for what he was looking for. ( The crowd gathering outside LUX; smelling of passable cologne. ) Only now did he falter, hesitating within the confines of his car; shoving standard firearm into the glove box and snatch the bible back up. The journey there was effortless, vehicle locked with a flick of his wrist, smart shoes echoing softly.

No. What was causing his stomach to churn was the fact he knew; the possibility of rejection was always a breath away. Yet now he had convinced himself to get it over with; time seemed to have stood still. ( Alas, it took an age to reach his turn. ) Pupils dilating a fraction; calling upon his energy as his irises shimmered, the blue pools much lighter; convincing the bouncer to not even question his presence and forget about it the moment he was out of sight before stepping into the night club, its atmosphere familiar and appeasing him in a way few things could. The stench of alcohol tangible, beckoning him towards the bar like an old friend.

After setting the damned book down and snapping to the desired page; he leaned across the polished surface to order. Yet Samael was written in bold ink on the propped up pages, standing out like a sore thumb towards the room. Followed by a scribbled sentence in Enochian.

‘Is there somewhere private we can talk?’

With the stage set, he waited. Praying his predictions were accurate and the Devil would resist making a scene in public.

After all - he wouldn’t only end up exposing himself now, would he?

[safarpublishing02]

Exploring the Pages of Valor: A Dive into Military Books

Military books have long held a revered place on the bookshelves of history enthusiasts, scholars, and anyone captivated by tales of courage, strategy, and the indomitable human spirit. These literary works provide a window into the world of warfare, offering insights into the minds of military leaders, the experiences of soldiers, and the profound impact of conflict on societies. In this article, we will embark on a journey through the pages of some of the most influential and thought-provoking military books that have shaped our understanding of war and its consequences.

"The Art of War" by Sun Tzu:

Dating back to ancient China, "The Art of War" by Sun Tzu stands as one of the oldest and most revered military treatises. This timeless classic delves into the strategies and tactics of warfare, emphasizing the importance of intelligence, flexibility, and understanding the terrain. Despite its age, the principles laid out by Sun Tzu continue to influence military thought and leadership strategies across the globe.

"On War" by Carl von Clausewitz:

Moving forward in time, Carl von Clausewitz's "On War" remains a cornerstone in military theory. Written in the 19th century, this comprehensive work explores the nature of war, the role of politics, and the complexities of strategy. Clausewitz's famous assertion that war is the continuation of politics by other means has become a fundamental concept in military philosophy.

"Band of Brothers" by Stephen E. Ambrose:

Shifting from theoretical discussions to firsthand accounts, "Band of Brothers" by Stephen E. Ambrose offers a gripping narrative of Easy Company, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division, during World War II. Through personal stories, Ambrose vividly captures the camaraderie, sacrifices, and challenges faced by these men, providing a deeply human perspective on the realities of war.

"The Things They Carried" by Tim O'Brien:

Tim O'Brien's "The Things They Carried" is a masterpiece of contemporary war literature. This collection of interconnected short stories explores the Vietnam War through the experiences of a group of soldiers. O'Brien delves into the weight of the physical and emotional burdens carried by soldiers, offering a poignant reflection on the impact of war on the individual psyche.

"Black Hawk Down" by Mark Bowden:

"Black Hawk Down" by Mark Bowden recounts the harrowing Battle of Mogadishu in 1993, where U.S. forces faced intense urban combat in Somalia. Bowden's journalistic approach provides a detailed and gripping account of the events, shedding light on the challenges and chaos of modern warfare. The book later inspired a successful film adaptation.

Conclusion:

Military books, spanning ancient treatises to contemporary novels, offer a diverse and rich tapestry of perspectives on war. These literary works serve not only as historical records but also as a source of inspiration, insight, and reflection. Whether exploring the strategies of ancient generals, the bonds forged on the battlefield, or the profound consequences of conflict, military books provide a unique lens through which to understand the complexities of human nature and the enduring impact of war on societies.

[cloverfieldln]

Released on January 3, 2023

Return to the opulent world of Elfhame, filled with intrigue, betrayal, and dangerous desires, with this first book of a captivating new duology from the #1 New York Times bestselling author Holly Black.  A runaway queen. A reluctant prince. And a quest that may destroy them both.   Eight years have passed since the Battle of the Serpent. But in the icy north, Lady Nore of the Court of Teeth has reclaimed the Ice Needle Citadel. There, she is using an ancient relic to create monsters of stick and snow who will do her bidding and exact her revenge.   Suren, child queen of the Court of Teeth, and the one person with power over her mother, fled to the human world. There, she lives feral in the woods. Lonely, and still haunted by the merciless torments she endured in the Court of Teeth, she bides her time by releasing mortals from foolish bargains. She believes herself forgotten until the storm hag, Bogdana chases her through the night streets. Suren is saved by none other than Prince Oak, heir to Elfhame, to whom she was once promised in marriage and who she has resented for years.    Now seventeen, Oak is charming, beautiful, and manipulative. He’s on a mission that will lead him into the north, and he wants Suren’s help. But if she agrees, it will mean guarding her heart against the boy she once knew and a prince she cannot trust, as well as confronting all the horrors she thought she left behind.

My Review

Posted on Goodreads January 7th, 2023.

★★★★★ — 5/5 stars in this return duology in the cruel prince universe, we are met with suren, a runaway queen, and oak, the hesitant prince of elfhame. this duology takes place eight years after the battle of the serpent. we are given the amazing but tragic backstory of suren, who is the child queen of the court of teeth, with her mother being lady nore. waiting for revenge has been all that lady nore has been planning over the time-jump between stories, but is inhibited by one thing — her daughter. suren, the only person who has power over her mother and the court, has fled to the human world, and lives a feral life in the woods. she often spends her time helping mortals be released from silly bargains struck up my the folk. on the other hand, we are presented with oak, as we remember from the cruel prince trilogy, but this time around he is seventeen years old, and has plans for himself. meeting suren when they were only children, they are both well aware with each other, and have no plans to rekindle relationships. oak is now a charming, handsome, and manipulative heir to elfhame, who is tasked with a mission heading up north. despite rumors of jude and cardans plans with elfhame, oak forges his own path, bringing along tiernan and suren to help bid his mission. but betrayal, deceit, and manipulation are among the hardest tasks. — i loved this book a lot more than i thought i would. i loved the pace of it, and that we were already familiar with the world, and some of the background characters that are present in this book. i'm super happy this is a duology, because the pace between characters was just phenomenal. as well as the action scenes that were present was detailed enough where it didn't keep me guessing what was going to happen next. i think that my favorite thing though about this book was all the deceit, since faerie folk cannot tell lies. it's very interesting to see how they riddle around parts of the book and dance around topics. i cannot wait until the next book comes out!

My Highlights and Annotations

Chapter 2

On page 41, I noted: we hate madoc club, protect oak at all costs club! "Madoc, the traitor who marched on Elfhame with the Court of Teeth. Before that, the Grand General who was responsible for the slaughter of most of the royal family. And Oak's foster father."

On page 43, I highlighted: "Then they marched me before the High Queen and suggested that I be united in marriage with her brother and heir, Prince Oak."

Chapter 3

On page 48, I noted: give me some judecardan crumbs is all i ask for "All Courts pledge fealty to their ruler and that ruler pledges fealty to the High Court. When High King Cardan came to power, because I was hidden, and Queen of the Court of Teeth, my failure to give him an oath of loyalty was the reason Lady Nore and Lord Jarel were able to betray him."

On page 51, I noted: i'm waiting for more.... "The sword's name is Nightfell," he whispered. "it belongs to Jude." His sister. The High Queen. It was such a different way to be royal, to have a family that you would consider by their relationship to you before their title. Whose weapon you wouldn't be afraid to steal."

On page 53, I noted: not oriana again, thought we left her in the dust "So lost in the joy of that moment, I didn't think of danger until the latch of the door turned. I was barely able to roll underneath Oak's bed, putting my sticky, stained fingers over my mouth, before Oriana came into the room. I tried to remain as still as possible. Madoc's wife had camped with us when we were in the north and would know me instantly if she saw me."

On page 54, I noted: i like this back talk version "You are not to go near her alone." "I am the prince," he said. "I can do whatever I like." Oriana looked momentarily surprised, then hurt. "I left Madoc's side for you." "So what?" He didn't appear at all sorry. "I don't have to listen to you or do what you say. And I don't have to tell you anything."

Chapter 4

On page 65, I highlighted: "There are rumors that Cardan never wanted the throne, that he will hand it over to Oak willingly at some vague future time. But when I think of High King Cardan with his black curls and cruel mouth, the way he behaves – silly and dangersome all at once – I don't believe he would relinquish power. He might, however trick Oak into going on a quest he wouldn't return from. Build him up with stories of honor and valiant deeds."

[alyjojo]

Past Life ☯️ Karmic Spread February 2023 - Gemini

Gender I’m Picking Up On (in the past life): Male

Who You Were: 5 Pentacles, 3 Cups, The High Priestess, 9 Wands

What You Did: King of Swords, 9 Swords, 9 Cups, The Magician, Ace of Cups rev

How It Ended: 3 Wands, Death, The Devil, Judgement

What Karma Was Brought With You: Queen of Cups, 4 Cups, The Lovers rev

Who You Brought With You: King of Cups, 4 Wands, 6 Swords, 4 Pentacles rev

Additional energy: 3 Pentacles, Page of Pentacles rev, 10 Pentacles, Strength

Past Life Oracle: Galactic & Greco/Roman

Dreaming Way: Stork, Ring, Sun

Charm:

Fractal Moon 🌙 on The Devil

Crab 🦀 on Queen of Cups

Youth Butterfly 🦋 on 3 Pentacles

Grapes 🍇 on Stork

Broken Heart 💔 on Ring

I am having a slight internal giggle fit over this one, not at you, or the difficulties and sadness you endured. I can just see myself clearly in this reading, as can the rest of us astrology, philosophy & religious fanatics. It’s a very fine line between philosophical and radical, genius and madness, and much of that is often determined by public opinion, at least when you’re trying to gain public approval, or spread the word, which seems like what you tried to do. You were an ancient astrologer, I get Greek specifically, which is amazing btw 🫡 I don’t get “astronomer” by trade, more along the lines of mathematician, facts and figures were your trade initially. Astronomy was involved in some way, and with research…all three titles were combined when describing an astrologer at the time, it was “the” thing then, but your method of working was numbers, and the stars were just the part of that you worked on. A very logical & facts driven person, in a philosophical way.

I don’t get you being very popular or well known, I tried to research a bit, because this was the most popular thing back then, fairly common, but details of these people, their lives and actual characters or personalities are lacking from what little I could find. More like…this person wrote a book, or a pamphlet, and there’s no more than that, just the facts. There’s a rabbit hole for you if you get more curious, maybe one will call out to you 🐇 You were an extremely intelligent man that ended up becoming so fanatically involved in negative astrology, beliefs, and doomsday type of predictions, that you kind of lost yourself. You lost friends & supporters too. The public did not favor your “secrets of the universe”, and you may have even faced some level of public shame, based on something I guess was either too far fetched for even them or a doomsday type of thing that didn’t come true. When you died, you were still waiting for literal stars to align into some exact ultimate & universal Judgement. Probably had some religious implications as well, though I’m not sure of what who how when exactly, etc. Fractal Moon shows the many different layers to your astrology/practicality/beliefs, and The Devil is showing you were so obsessed and caught up on things like mathematical details & calculations, alignments, doomsday, that the whole of the picture was lost to you. Your exacting and precise method of calculating xyz kept you stuck. It’s like you were too smart. Hand a genius philosophy and they’ll lose their mind trying to fact and figure what can’t be fact or figured. You believed it could 💯

You lived in a frame of mind where negative destinies or exactly timed events signaled doom. You eventually avoided doing everything, anything, ever, except obsessing over topics like death, the second coming of Christ (if that even applies here idk, but same vibe), a great plague, a flood, etc. It kept you from things you could and should have done, dreams of yours even, and finding love. You were a recluse and spent most of your time thinking during the night, obsessively trying to understand the world and exactly pinpoint its’ destruction. These events terrified and excited you, you probably had some heavy Sco/8th House energy, because the questions that plagued you were not “When will I find love?”, more like “When will the Earth be sucked into The Sun?” Which I also find fascinating, so lemme just subscribe to this guy’s fan club 😆

In the past, friends and the public and general turned away from you, you didn’t have many supporters. They saw you as the half naked guy screaming about the end of the world, which…yeah, but a brilliant one, possibly with some level of mathematical or scientific achievements too, and probably pants, you were not at all “dumb”. Fanatical…to everyone else, yes, not initially but eventually. In this life, it’s your family that’s not very supportive of you, you don’t have many deep connections in that sphere and you can’t really relate to each other more than superficially or politely. You’re the black sheep. You’ve brought someone with you, probably a Cancer being Queen of Cups with The Crab 🦀 even. Either they leave you or you leave them, there’s no genuine “choosing” each other, it’s just blah, apathy, you’re together and then you’re not. It could be a case of unrequited love, or one person loving the other one more. This is most likely a spouse or lover with Broken Heart on Ring. They may have broken your heart. You may have children with them or they have them, children are involved. This was all karmic and meant to happen.

You’ve also brought a King of Cups, could be a Scorpio or water sign, likely a family member with 4 Wands, could be someone you’ve lived with. They had to leave, move away, travel in some way, and you had no choice but to release them. That connection was deeper than the average person, possibly one of the few family members you did deeply bond with, and it feels more like you followed them here than them following you, someone older. This may also be the person your ex married, or their soulmate, maybe who they hurt you with, and there’s a karmic tie between you all. After separating from the Queen, you may not have been or be much involved with your child/ren, if they’re yours. I don’t get how many, definitely one and if there are more apply them too, it’s children that are specified.

Perhaps it’s when they grow up, with this particular Butterfly 🦋 showing more of a “growing up” and youthful sort of transformation, but they’ll be very successful, maybe not initially but eventually, and they’ll want to be around you. I don’t get ties are completely severed, maybe just difficult to maintain because of the ex, I don’t know. When they’re grown, they’ll make you very happy, and you’ll bond with them more than anyone you’ve ever known whether family, friend, or lover, it’s a kind of love that transcends everything else. Like the family you never really had or bonded with, it’s them. They are the ones that will change your life, and every way is for the better, it just takes some time to get there.

[anthonybialy]

Old Ideas in a New Year

This year sucks.  To be fair, that applies to all of them.  I predict a lousy 2023 based on the few days we’ve endured of it and also the countless decades of miserable drudgery that preceded it.  The supplier remains the same, which does not provide much hope for altered product quality.

There’s nothing special about this one.  Luckily, years don’t have self-esteem.  Some of the particular conditions are specifically unfortunate.  But the general vibe remains the same as every one of these at this time.  Any surviving hope will be dashed soon.  Finding comfort in routine will have to suffice as a victory.

At least lousy times are moving quickly.  Life still feels like we’re residing in the voodoo curse moments of 2020.  The rut is mental, which is either promising because there’s no physical restriction or woeful because our minds are imprisoning us.  Regardless of what date our phones claim it is, it would be nice to not feel stuck in the era of calling America racist while shutting it down to not stop a virus.

Time feels like it’s standing still just when you want it to accelerate.  The physics of how clocks work are beyond our puny human comprehension.  The seconds are ticking even if we can feel each one.  Science indicates the Earth seems to continue with various spinning actions.

Cheer for this to be the exception from a crummy era.  The persistently confident are hoping this grouping is not defined by presuming America is the racist Fourth Reich, surrendering rights so governors can make viruses worse, or giving Joe freaking Biden the continued chance to show that he will never be right about anything.  Examples lean toward a woeful trend.  But optimism despite experience is the one thing that sustains the afflicted.

An indifferent gift of a new year is welcomed by those who need a mental reset.  People in an uncaring universe are trying not to think about how relentless the eternal pressure of events is.  Every January feels like a fresh start, which is helpful in coping with the endless drudgery from which there is no escape.  That’s as cheery as I get.

Celebrities who’ve left us would surely appreciate that their legacy is getting lumped with other famous people who passed away during the same timeframe.  Associating things with a year is both easy and lazy.  Noticing what happens within the same 12 months happens to be an obvious way to link events, especially if there appears to be a trend of lousiness.  The inclination toward woe is a feature of this universe that can in turn be used to glue quite a few individual years together.

People don’t get wiser just because they acquire new page-a-day calendars, which is particularly regrettable news for a president who’s failed to get wiser despite numerous birthdays.  Ancient dolt Biden still thinks he can solve inflation by printing money.  He just needs to get them running a little faster if cruel Republicans stop opposing efforts to make everyone rich.  The Treasury needs more money, which it will print if only some true leader is brave enough to initiate the cycle.

A ghastly accompaniment to the ball drop showed what lamentably remains unaltered.  An Islamic terror attack in New York City is only the latest reason to avoid Times Square at all costs.  The worst part of bringing back the past in the worst way is the lack of surprise about shocking heinousness.  The combination of lenience toward criminals and contempt for police in the world’s erstwhile greatest city enables such appalling assaults.  The alleged Empire State needs machete control.

Rotten ideas don’t improve with time’s passage, which you’d think might be unfortunate news for those who inflict them.  But collectivist goons downplay individual accomplishments with an ulterior motive.  Results are exponentially worse for their victims, although empathy doesn’t seem to dog those who need it most.

A big date update doesn’t fortify the line.  The protected White House is rather keen on keeping the border open to anyone who wants in.  The only way to dissuade illegal immigration is to make the country so poor and unsafe that nobody wants to hop the border.  Truly compassionate liberals would fence off a country they think is a racist sexist capitalist inequality factory.

By contrast, those who know the present fondness for state control is as rotten a notion as it is harmful practically should disregard the chance for change.  Don’t resolve to do things differently if you’re awesome.  You’re off to a good start if you stop presuming government will fix anything, much less everything.  Learning lessons inflicted by ghastly ideas is the one way to make the new slate of months improve.  Precedent indicates this year will be dumb like all the others, and early results seem to confirm the tendency.  

[tymc]

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From the leading scholars behind The Greek Plays, a collection of the best translations of the foremost Greek historians, presenting a sweeping history of ancient Greece as recorded by its first chroniclers“Just the thing to remind us that human history, though lamentably a work in progress, is always something we can understand better.”—Sarah Ruden, translator of The Gospels and author of The Face of WaterThe historians of ancient Greece were pioneers of a new literary craft; their work stands among the world’s most enduring and important legacies and forms the foundation of a major modern discipline. This highly readable edition includes new and newly revised translations of selections from Herodotus—often called the “father of history”—Thucydides, Xenophon, and Plutarch, the four greatest Greek innovators of historical narrative. Here the reader will find their most important, and most widely taught, passages collected in a single volume. The excerpts chart the landmark events of