#where are the Space hellenists

[mayday396]

Can you imagine Gen Z and Gen Alpha Astronomers and Astronauts that are also Pagans and Astrologers?

"Why Yes I do in fact love Space and I'm part of NASA, also a nerd for the Subfields of Astronomy and it's subdisciplines of Stellar astronomy, Computational astrophysics, and Extragalactic astronomy

As well as Cosmology, Astrobotany, Astrobiology, Spacefaring and Spaceflight

Areospace Engineering and technology

But I can also tell you that your Gemini Rising is at 10 am to 11 am"

If they're in Hellenism, *actively worships Nyx, Selene, Uranus, Astraeus, Iris, Apollo and Artemis*

If they are in Neo-Celtic, and Celtic reconstructionists, *worships Lugh, Sulis, Tuireann*

If they're Asian, "LETS RAID CHANG'ER and HẰNG NGA'S HOME"

[eternalmneme]

In this post I will help beginners understand the basics of Hellenism, which is the oikos! Hope this help and I’ll explain all well! Enjoy your reading💛 (Sorry for my English if I’ve mistaken something, its not my frist language)

The sacred Household in Hellenism🏡

“The gods are not far away — they live among us, beginning at the hearth.”

When people first come to Hellenism, many expect temples, elaborate rituals, and festivals with incense drifting into the sky. And yes, those things exist, and they’re beautiful.

But in traditional Hellenic religion, the true center of worship has always been the household — the oikos. This is where devotion begins.

The oikos is more than just your physical living space. In ancient Greece, it referred to the entire household unit: the family, the home, the land, the goods, and the sacred forces that protected and sustained them.

For Hellenists, our home is a temple in miniature. It’s where you interact with the gods every day, where you make offerings, pray, purify, and maintain order. You don’t need an expensive altar, what you need is intention, reverence, and consistency.

Hestia: The heart of the Home🔥

At the center of the sacred household is Hestia, goddess of the hearth flame.

She is the first-born of the Olympians, and the first (and last) to receive offerings in every ritual.

Hestia represents warmth, safety, peace, continuity. In ancient homes, the hearth fire was never allowed to go out, and when a new household was formed, the flame was lit from the family hearth.

(I will do more about the Gods in specific in other posts)

In a modern practice, you can honor Hestia simply:

Light a candle or lamp in her name.

Offer a drop of oil, water, or wine.

Speak a short prayer:

“Hestia, keeper of the hearth, may your flame burn bright in my home.”

It doesn’t need to be elaborate!

But ancient Greeks honored her a bit differently!

As I said earlier, the hearth (estia) was a literal fire in the center of the home. It was always kept burning as a sacred flame: extinguishing it was considered bad luck or impious unless ritually necessary.

Every meal and domestic ritual began with a libation or offering to Hestia! In fact, no matter which god was being honored, Hestia received the first and last libation in any sacrificial ritual.

She didn’t have many temples, her domain was every home and public places! At city level, a sacred fire to Hestia burned in the prytaneion (town hall or public hearth), symbolizing civic unity.

And then as another ritual, when a couple got married or a new household was formed, a flame from the bride’s family hearth was carried to the new home to light the new hearth, symbolizing continuity and divine blessing!

The Household Gods are more than one!🏛️

The sacred household includes more than Hestia. Such as: Zeus Ktesios, Hermes Propylaios / Hermes Agoraios, ancestors and Household Spirits (like Agathos Daimon).

Of course, there are more Gods that protects Household but these are the most commonly honored ones!

Zeus Ktesios: Protector of the household, provider of goods and food. Many Hellenists keep a ktesios jar, a simple container filled with water, oil, and other symbolic items like bay leaves or coins. It’s kept in a clean corner of the pantry or home.

Hermes Propylaios / Hermes Agoraios: Hermes protects the boundaries of the home and the spaces beyond. He is honored at the threshold, by the door, as guardian of comings and goings. A small stone or figure by your door can be his marker. He’s the god who makes movement and communication possible.

Ancestors and Household Spirits: The dead are never far from the living in Hellenism. Ancestors (both literal and spiritual) are remembered with respect and offerings.

But what can we do as a devotion in our homes?

There are many ways! But I’ll offer a little simple routine:

Washing your hands (khernips) to purify

Lighting a candle for Hestia

Pouring a libation (water, milk, wine)

Speaking a short prayer

Leaving a small offering: bread, olive oil, fruit, or incense.

Remember that none of this is a RULE and necessary, but it builds Kharis and in more simple words it tells the Gods “this is your home too and may you protect it”, we make space for the Gods and its a simple yet efficent devotional act!

It reminds us that the divine is not far away! In Hellenism, this is where devotion starts!

I hope you enjoyed. I tried to explain this well enough and at the same time as short as I could!

[blueiscoool]

2,000 Bronze Statue Fragments Found in Turkey Ancient Scrap Yard

Archaeologists in Izmir, Turkey have made an extraordinary discovery in the ancient city of Metropolis: Approximately 2,000 bronze statue fragments have been found in a section believed to have served as an “ancient scrap yard”.

The excavations are being carried out within the scope of the ‘Heritage to the Future Project’ of the Ministry of Culture and Tourism, under the direction of Prof. Serdar Aybek, Professor of Archaeology at Dokuz Eylül University, and in cooperation with the Sabancı Foundation.

Archaeologists have discovered evidence of many civilizations, from the earliest settlements in the Late Neolithic Age to the Classical Age, from the Hellenistic Age to the Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman periods, in the ancient city of Metropolis, also called the “City of Mother Goddess,” where excavations have been going on since 1990.

In the ancient city, where many monumental structures were unearthed, these fragments, uncovered in an area believed to have served as an “ancient scrap yard,” offer a unique glimpse into the cultural and religious shifts of the region during the Late Antiquity period.

Professor Serdar Aybek stated that the bronze statue fragments were found in a corner of a space referred to as an “ancient scrap yard,” where they had been broken apart for melting and stored in bulk.

Aybek explained that the findings include statue pieces from the Hellenistic period and figures from the Roman era, describing them as “extraordinary discoveries, even for our field of work. We have uncovered approximately 2,000 bronze statue fragments,” he said.

He highlighted the significance of the bronze statues being broken into pieces, noting, “The collection and recycling of statues in the Late Antiquity provide concrete evidence in Metropolis. Among the findings are parts such as heads, eyes, fingers, and sandals.”

Drawing attention to the dismantling of these statues, Aybek said, “In the Late Antiquity, as mythological beliefs were abandoned in favor of monotheistic religions and Christianity became dominant in the region, bronze statues from mythological and earlier eras were dismantled. Although we do not yet have archaeological evidence to confirm this claim, we can suggest that a significant portion of them was repurposed for minting coins. During that period, rather than producing new materials, bronze groups, mainly consisting of outdated or damaged statues, were broken apart by the ancient scrap yard worker and prepared for melting.”

The fragments might be from the statues built to honor the benefactors listed in the “Metropolitan Apollonios” inscription, according to Aybek, who also underlined the historical significance of bronze statues in antiquity.

What makes this discovery even more remarkable is the evidence of recycling practices that date back over a millennium.

In addition to the fragmented statues, archaeologists discovered square and rectangular bronze plates that were probably used for statue casting and repair. This implies that, at its height, Metropolis might have served as a center for the creation or repair of bronze statues.

By Leman Altuntaş.

[thelostclassics]

Hiii! I love your writing style! I wanted to request, if possible, Henry with a slightly plump girlfriend, like in a "ancient greek beauty" way, I think he would be head over heels because of it. Maybe he enjoys that she's not really insecure about it, and that instead of rejecting the "girly" part of it, she embraces it. I think he would be "sweet" (well, as much sweet as Henry Winter can be, which is barely tender lmao)

I absolutely adore this idea. Thanks for requesting, babe! 💙

Venus in marble and flesh.

Pairing: Henry Winter x fem!reader

Warnings: none I believe, soft!Henry, use of Y/, as said in the request; reader is described as being plump.

It wasn't the first time Henry had observed her as if she were a sculpture, but it was the first time she had noticed him.

Y/n was sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace, her legs crossed under her skirt and her hair pulled back in a messy way. They were at Francis's house, as so often, with the others scattered among the garden, the couches, or in private rooms where conversations grew thicker.

She was laughing at something Richard had said-a soft, enveloping laugh, like wind chimes-as she leaned back slightly, leaning on her arms. It was then that she felt the stare.

She raised her eyes and Henry was watching her from across the room, a book in his hand that he was clearly no longer reading. His expression didn't have the fierce intensity he displayed when discussing philology or strategy. It was something else. Something quiet, restrained. Something that made her feel... seen.

“What?” she asked, smiling, one eyebrow raised naturally.

Henry took a second before answering. He closed the book leisurely, set it down on the low table, and walked over.

“It's nothing," he said at last, standing in front of her, "I was just thinking about how you'd fit perfectly into a Hellenistic bas-relief.”

She let out a little laugh, amused.

“Are you saying I look like a fat marble goddess?”

“I'm saying that classical beauty has nothing to do with lightness," he answered, in his low, slow tone. “And that there's something about you... round, serene. As if the centuries did not touch you.”

Y/n looked at him with narrowed eyes, half amused, half surprised. The way he spoke was so uncommon, so utterly devoid of superficiality, that it disarmed any defense before he could even raise it.

“I don't mind you seeing me like this," she said, looking down at her own body, where the soft curves of her hips and thighs filled the space like a Botticelli painting. Then she looked at him again, "I suppose some people would be embarrassed. But not me.”

Henry bowed his head barely, as if approving of what he had just heard. Then, in a gesture as simple as it was revealing, he sat down behind her on the rug, and with studied slowness, placed both hands on her shoulders.

“Good," he murmured, as his fingers began to massage her neck with methodical clumsiness. “Because I like it that way.”

She let out a restrained laugh, closing her eyes with a sigh.

“You know, if you were anyone else, I'd think you were trying to seduce me.”

“And if you were anyone else," Henry replied, his voice low, "it wouldn't work.

The fire crackled between the two of them.

And though Henry was not the kind of man who kissed lightly, that night-in the shared silence, with the firelight dancing on his classical forms, with her warmth enveloping him like an ancient spell-he allowed himself to lean into her cheek and brush her skin with his lips. Barely an instant.

A simple gesture.

Almost imperceptible.

But for him, more intimate than anything else.

———

It was Sunday morning and Francis' house was still sleeping under the weight of the collective hangover. Outside, the sky was overcast with low clouds, but inside it was warm, permeated with the smell of wood and freshly brewed coffee.

Henry was in the kitchen, white shirt rolled up and hair messier than usual. He was slowly moving a teaspoon inside a porcelain cup, almost mechanically, as if he had been doing that for her for years already.

Y/n entered quietly, her face still sleepy and her body wrapped in a thin robe that didn't belong to her, one of those she wore when she was at Henry's or Francis's house. She walked to him barefoot, with that quiet, confident gait he had learned to recognize without looking. He noticed her before she spoke.

“Is it for me?” she asked, her voice still numb.

Henry simply extended the cup to her.

“You know it is.”

She took it in both hands and smiled against the hot rim.

“You're going to spoil me.”

“You already are," he muttered, sipping his own coffee. “Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.”

They stood in silence for a few seconds, leaning against each other on the counter, not needing to fill the space with words. It was one of those routines they had started unintentionally: he would get up earlier, make coffee, and wait for her to come seeking warmth and comfort in his arms or in the cup he extended to her.

“Are you going to keep reading Plotinus all day?” Ophelia asked after a sip.

“Yes" he answered, without irony. “But only if you stay with me.”

Y/n turned her face to look at him. The way Henry said those things, so simple and so clear, without embellishment, without posturing, still disarmed her a little. As if it were impossible that this man, so hermetic to the world, would let her see so clearly that he needed her near.

“I'll stay. But only if you read aloud to me afterwards.”

“Done.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, and Henry, without thinking, slipped his free arm around her waist.

And there, in that silent kitchen, with the alien world still asleep, she felt more loved than anywhere else. For with Henry, love was not fuss or declaration; it was presence. Routine. Permanence.

Later, they were both in the library, which smelled of old dust, leather and paper, with that unmistakable perfume of the eternal. Outside it was raining with an almost monastic constancy, but inside silence reigned.

Y/n was sitting on the window sill, with a blanket covering her legs and a book in her hands. The fogged glass softened the gray light coming in from outside, and enveloped her in a milky, almost dreamlike glow.

Henry was at the desk, presumably taking notes on a Greek treatise he had been meaning to review for weeks. The pen rested in his hand, but the ink had begun to dry without his noticing.

He watched her.

He wasn't just watching- he was observing her.

The way her hair fell, still damp, in soft waves over her shoulders.

The delicate curve of her cheek, rounded, smooth.

The slight fold of her belly under the blanket, natural, unconcealed.

Her hips, wide and calm, as if they belonged to another era.

A baroque goddess wrapped in wool and books.

Y/n did not hide. She never did. There was something about her that offered herself to the world with serene firmness, with that gentle confidence of one who knows and accepts herself. There was no shame in the way she moved, or in the way she pulled her sweater across her chest, she carried herself with confidence.

Henry had spent years surrounded by marble, by perfect ideas, by impossible symmetries. But now...this.

Her.

She lived in his body like a living sculpture, but with more than form: with warmth. With laughter. With soul.

“Are you going to keep looking at me like that, or do you want me to read aloud?” Y/n asked without looking up, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Henry blinked. He hadn't noticed that she had stopped writing, or that the pen had dripped a dark stain on the paper.

“Both of those things sound good to me," he replied with complete seriousness.

She let out a soft laugh, closing the book carefully.

“You're a mess, Winter.”

“I am a man distracted by his muse," he replied, as if reading a passage from Herodotus.

Y/n rose from the windowsill, dropping the blanket at her feet. She walked toward him unhurriedly, the soft creak of the floor accompanying her steps.

When she reached the desk, Henry leaned over without a word and rested his forehead against her belly, wrapping his arms around her waist. Y/n stroked his hair tenderly, silently. Then, she sat on his lap and nestled her cheek on his chest. Henry read to her as he stroked her hair.

There, among bookshelves full of dead voices and rain pattering on the glass, Henry Winter allowed himself a moment of total surrender.

Not to an ideal, not to a theory, not to an idea.

To her.

To her real, warm, beautiful body.

To life.

[likethestarsatnight]

FIRST POST (of this account) YAY!!

My alter💜💛

Info abt me:

- Mainly a Dionysus and Apollo worshipper

- Genderfluid (prefer masc and nuetral pronouns more, but she is just as fine!)

- Hellenistic polythiest

- History lover

- 17

-half southern 🇺🇲, half 🇵🇭 (if u see this and ur from the south, love yall!!)

Why I'm making this account:

Just want to have a space where i can freely post shit abt the gods and blog. 😛

I also do art too. Yay.

Other notes:

Feel free to message me or try to be friends with me. If you're gonna be friends with me then pls actually engage with the convo, I'm not good at leading convo's sometimes 😓

Also note: trumpies, white supremacists (cause sadly there's too many in pagan spaces), homophobes, transphobes, transmeds, terfs, and zionists are NOT SAFE ON MY PAGE. I'm not gonna use my energy to check every person who interacts with my page, but just know i don't respect you, so there's no point in interacting with me if u are.

Okay, that's all folks, pls follow!

[j4ck-0f-a11-tr4d3z]

Perter Parker x Stark!reader- Iron Deficiency

chapter three!!

word count: 4.7 k

warnings: talk of familial deaths (off page), custody arrangement talk, mentions of religion, no use of yn, no pronouns (I think?) in this chapter, may seem OOC, self indulgent fic

summery: Yn and Tony finally sit down for a brutally honest, unexpectedly vulnerable conversation about what a custody arrangement would look like. Between sarcastic remarks and serious boundaries. Yn lays out her terms with clarity—and a little sass. Tony listens, cracks a few jokes, and surprises her with genuine empathy. The talk ends with Tony leaving his contact info behind and flying back to New York, giving Yn space, but also showing that he’s not walking away. For the first time, there’s a maybe. A “what if.” A door left just slightly ajar.

Yn is a gifted kid with a sharp sense of humor, a love of science and literature, and a knack for volleyball and band. But between the lines of her report cards and trophies, her life was lined with tragedy. She survived a car crash that took her mother and sister, a school shooting that killed her younger siblings, and the loss of her father figure to cancer shortly after. She now lives with her grandma, still reeling, still rebuilding.

There are pieces of her that don’t fit together perfectly—like how she’s brilliant at math but hates trig with a burning passion. How she adores Shakespeare and writes poetry but uses gory special effects makeup to cope with urges to self-harm. How she’s outspoken about SA, gun safety, and distracted driving, but keeps her own trauma buried deep where no one can touch it.

She’s Hellenistic, bisexual, and a lowkey anime nerd. She’s been through hell and somehow came out not soft—but burning. She’s a survivor, a sister, a daughter, a mess, and a miracle.

In the previous chapter, tensions explode after Tony reveals himself as Yn’s biological father, leading to a storm of emotions and a dramatic exit. Left in the wreckage, Tony finally begins to grasp the depth of what he’s walked into. With guilt heavy on his shoulders, he makes a quiet attempt to reach out—offering not answers, but a door left open, just in case she ever wants to walk through it.

A/n: please lmk if there're spelling errors and/or grammatical errors

lwk wrote this while being tired and delusional lamo

Tony swallowed hard, the weight of her words slamming into him like a repulsor blast to the chest. Fourteen, almost fifteen years. He had no rebuttal for that—because she was right. Brutally, painfully right.

His fingers twitched in his pockets before he finally pushed up from the couch with a heavy sigh, the kind that seemed to drag his whole soul with it. “I… I’m gonna check on her,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. Grandma gave no response. Just the sound of Elle’s soft cooing. 

Tony padded down the hallway slowly, every creaky floorboard sounding like a judge’s gavel, hammering down a sentence he hadn’t realized he was on trial for. He hesitated at your door, knuckles raised, then lowered, then raised again like some broken clock trying to tick forward.

After a few of these movements he finally knocked.

He leaned against the doorframe as he waited for a response of some sort from inside the bedroom, head tilted back like maybe the ceiling had answers he didn’t. His voice was softer than anyone would've expected from the infamous Iron Man, barely above a whisper. “Hey, kid…”

Silence.

A beat. Then two. He exhaled slowly, one hand running through his hair—nervous tic. “I don’t expect you to come out. Honestly, I wouldn’t blame you if you built a moat and told me to swim through piranhas first.”

He chuckled, but it was hollow. Like a joke with no punchline. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw everything upside down. I mean, I did come here to flip your life on its head, but… not like this. Not yelling. Not crying. Not with you feeling like I’m trying to erase everything you’ve been through.” His throat tightened. “I’m not.”

He shifted on his feet, hand now resting gently against the door, like he could somehow transfer comfort through it. “I’m just trying to… I dunno. Start something. Not over. Just… somewhere. I don’t want to replace anyone. Least of all the guy who raised you. I just… I wanna know the kid who came from all that fire and somehow still walks around with a heartbeat.”

Another pause.

“If… if you ever feel like talking—about anything. Doesn’t have to be about this custody thing, or your mom, or even me. Just… whatever. The world. Your favorite kind of pizza. I dunno. If you ever feel like talking—I’ll be around.”

He stepped back, not waiting for a reply. But just before he turned to leave, he added one last thing—something so uncharacteristically vulnerable it almost caught him off guard.

“I’m not trying to win you over. I just don’t wanna be a stranger.”

Then, with a deep breath and a final glance at the closed door, he walked back down the hall.

You heard everything he said, not wanting to respond out of pettiness. But maybe it would be effective to have a conversation, you thought to yourself. As you thought about it you unconsciously started to move towards your school bag and pulled out your pencil case and grabbed a mechanical pencil before moving to your dresser and plucking a small note book.

The notebook itself was navy, covered in stickers, and had an elastic strap that held the cover shut. It was made by a brand called MOLESKIN. I’ll hear what he has to say and then work on writing a list of accommodations he’ll have to abide by if he wants me to live with him. Depending on how flexible he is, he might have a shot at convincing me to live with him. You thoughtfully told yourself. 

You slowly pushed out the bedroom and made your way down the hall, taking out your headphones as you did. Tony was standing in front of the portion of couch your uncle was occupying. Their conversation was dead in the air once you entered the living room, note book and pencil in hand. Tony stood there, slightly shocked to see you out of your room already. “You came here to talk custody, let's talk custody. And don't for a second think that I'm doing this for you.” you bark as you make your way into the kitchen and sat yourself at the table. The plates had been moved to the kitchen counter so the dogs wouldn't get to them. But in all honesty, Tony showing up at your door unannounced had made you lose your appetite as soon as your mothers name left his mouth. Tony, partly in shock, followed and sat across from you at the kitchen table. 

“Ok, talk. What would your custody arrangement be?” you started with a very unenthusiastic tone.

“Right, well..” Tony starts “ First off, I didn’t fly halfway across the country just to be some overbearing billionaire with a savior complex, alright? I know how that sounds. I know how I sound. But this—this wasn’t about control. Or ego. This was about—responsibility. Mine.”

Tony pauses, and scratches the back of his head rather gingerly. “I didn’t know about you. If I had—I wouldn’t have waited. But now I do know. And walking away? Pretending this didn’t blow my entire world sideways? That’s not something I can do. You deserve better than that. Even if you hate me for showing up.”

He sighed softly before continuing. “As for custody... Look, I’m not gonna show up, snap my fingers, and drag you to some penthouse in New York where you get a personal chef and twelve security guards and lose everything you care about. That’s not the plan.”

 “If you come live with me, it’s on your terms. School? We’ll find one that works. Friends? You stay in touch—hell, I’ll fly 'em out if you need to. Grandma stays in the picture. Paul, Jess, even Heifer the dog—if they’re family to you, they’re family to me. No replacing. No erasing.”

Tony paused again, voice softening before continuing once more. “I don’t want to take you away. I just… I want to be in your life. I want to learn who you are. Be someone you can count on, even if it’s messy. Because maybe I didn’t earn the title ‘Dad’—not yet. But I want to try. And I’ll take whatever scraps of trust you’re willing to throw my way. Starting with this conversation.”He gestures at the table between you, trying to smile but it’s tight. “So yeah, that’s the grand plan. No Stark Tower dictatorship. Just—somewhere safe. Some place stable.”

“Ok, here's my list of demands.” You started as you opened up to a new page in the notebook before putting the title at the top “List Of Demands” and underlined it before continuing. “First things first, if I leave, the dog is following.” you said firmly as you made your first bullet point on the page. “I want to come back to Michigan and Ohio for holidays and birthdays– that includes their birthdays, not just mine.” you said while gesturing into the other room with the end of your pencil, continuing your bullet points. Tony nodded his head agreeingly as you spoke. 

“As for the living situation, I want my own room away from wherever you sleep. I’d also like my own bathroom.” you continued, breaking eye contact only to write in the notebook that was laid out on the wooden surface. “Understandibly, but if I might enquire,” Tony started to ask, turning the lecture into a conversation. It was small, unnoticeable to him but meant a lot to you. Matthew never did that. “Why do you want your room far from mine?” 

“You have a girlfriend, don't you lover boy?” you said, more of a statement rather than a question. It was rather common knowledge that he was very infatuated with the now CEO of SI, Miss Pepper Potts. “Don’t think I don’t know what adult couples get up to in their free time. I already know what it's like to share a wall with my parents, that was lowkey traumatizing– do not make me go through it again.” 

Tony threw his hands up at this response. He was quite literally not expecting that to come out of your mouth. “Anyways, back to my list. In regards to your house I’d like you to install a white board calendar on your fridge–” you were cut off by your aunt shaking her head from her spot on her chair with Elle and said “That girl and her lists.” “And don’t forget her schedules too.” Grandma added with a teasing grin. You gave the two a look before continuing on. 

“I’d also like for you to install an app on your phone, it's basically a shared calendar. I don’t like not knowing what's going to happen throughout the day.” 

“Understandable, Pep’s the same way.” Tony was being surprisingly understanding and agreeable. It felt… unnatural, to say the least. Matthew would always try to negotiate to get your wants and needs to cater to him and his schedule, not to mention his constant defensiveness. 

“I’d also like to let you know that I like to stim by jumping on the trampoline I brought here with me from Michigan, and pacing around by myself.” “Wait, hold on,” Tony says, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t mean to sound ignorant, but what is... stimming?” He asks this with a genuine curiosity, his voice laced with that usual Tony Stark mix of inquisitive and borderline snarky. “Is that some fancy new thing, or are you just giving me another one of those 'adulting' lessons?” 

“Stimming is the act of a repetitive motion to self soothe. For example sucking your thumb, or drumming your fingers, bouncing your leg, etc. etc.” You said while listing off the examples on your fingers. “But anyways, I’d also like a keyboard piano so I can continue practicing considering my piano studio is located in Ypsilanti..” “How long have you played piano?” Tony asked.

“Since I was like, 9?” It’s hard for you to remember when exactly you started taking piano lessons from Natalie– a sweet black twenty-something who could match your energy in an instant or comfort you from a rough day. She had started doing in-home lessons with yearly recitals at the local library in the winter and summer. And now she had just opened a studio and was doing well. Your family had taken lessons from her from over half of her career as a teacher, so she had quickly become a safe space for you.

Her and your family were so close your sisters, mother, and yourself were invited to do lessons at her house in her baby grand, and your family in return had invited her to many family gatherings. “Wow, that’s quite a long time. What's been your favorite piece?” 

“Um, it's a three-way tie between the phantom of the opera, the piano duet from the corpse bride, or sleeping beauty waltz.”

“Interseting, I’d love for you to play for me sometime.” Tony said with a curt smile and continued with, “Are there any other demands you’d like to make?” 

“Yes in fact there is, you got me off on a tangent. Great going, water boy.” 

“Continuing on, I’d like to talk schooling and after school activities.” Tony straightened at hearing this. “If I were to move in with you, I’d like to continue playing club and school volleyball. In a similar vein you’ll need to find me a PT and a chiropractor office.” you say, looking down while writing. You look up to see Tony nodding along thoughtfully. “I can make that happen, what about schools? Have anything in mind?” 

“No, nothing off the top of my head considering I haven't looked. However, I do know what courses I'd like to take.” You said the first bit with a twinge of snark. “Pre-tell, kid.” Tony said, hoping silently that you’d say that you’d like some science and engineering courses. “I’ve already taken and passed Geometry, Honours English 9, Bio, French, Government– er, well Civics I suppose, Algebra 1, Band, Art classes, and Freshman fit. I’d like to take Algebra 2, Honours English 10, Chem, sociology, AP world, and art and music classes. Maybe a place with a good theater department, maybe good STEM courses?” 

“Well look at you go. That’s a lot of classes, kid.” Tony said in surprise, not only at the amount but also the fact it was almost a perfect split between language based and STEM based classes. You simply shrug at his comment. “I can have JARVAS scout some schools near the tower that offer the classes you’re looking for if you're interested.” 

“Um, ok?” you say confused as to who in the hell JARVAS is but chose to ignore. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. You remind yourself. “I’d also like to continue my drivers ED courses please.” 

“Drivers ED? Don’t kids your age get their permit around now?” Tony asked, he’s not too familiar in the world of driving considering he has Happy to do it for him– but you were almost 15, shouldn't you have your permit by now? “Well I would’ve but volleyball happened at the same time as the only available courses so I’m having to take it over summer instead.” 

Ohhhh, now he understood. Tony gave a small nod, like the puzzle pieces in his brain had finally clicked into place. “Right. Priorities. That’s actually… yeah, no, that makes sense.” He leaned back a little in the chair, arms folding over his chest, brows raising slightly. “Volleyball over bureaucracy. Honestly, solid choice.” There was a pause, not awkward, but… careful. Like Tony was tiptoeing around a minefield he knew was still very much live.

“I can make sure you still get those lessons, no problem,” he said eventually. “I’ll talk to whoever I need to.” awe, he said he would use his nepotism for you. How darling of him. “Anything else on the list?” you thought for a second before you got the idea. “Yes actually, one last thing. “

There was a beat of silence. “I want permission to curse without repercussions. And by that I mean I want to be able to say ‘oh that really hit the fucking spot.’ or ‘that was soooo shitty.’ but I’d never curse at someone. As much as you have frustrated me today I’m not ganna call you a mother fucker.” You lowered your voice when you cursed knowing that Elle was in the other room and might repeat you. 

Tony blinked at you. Once. Twice. Then tilted his head like a confused golden retriever.“Well,” he said, dragging the word out like he was buffering, “that’s… certainly a plot twist.”He rubbed the back of his neck, lips twitching like he was trying not to smile. “So lemme get this straight. You want… official, government-sanctioned permission to curse recreationally?”

You nodded, dead serious.

Tony leaned forward on his elbows, squinting like he was examining a fine piece of tech. “Alright, look. As long as you're not dropping F-bombs at Grandma or, God forbid, Elle picks up ‘shitstorm’ before she learns the alphabet… I’m willing to negotiate.”He held up a finger. 

“Sigh, fine. But I reserve the right to raise an eyebrow very judgmentally if you say something like, ‘that lasagna slapped harder than a pissed-off Hulk.’ Deal?”He cracked a smile then, shaking his head. “Jesus. Your mom really did leave me with a little firecracker.”Then, under his breath, mostly to himself, “...God help me, I think I’m proud.”

“Oh! I’m a liar, I have two more things.” 

“Right, shoot.”

“Ok, no means no. And I’d also like to ask about what the chores situation will look like.” 

Tony nodded, folding his arms across his chest like he was preparing for a board meeting.

“Alright. ‘No means no.’ That one’s easy—non-negotiable. If you say no, it means no. I’m not gonna be that guy forcing you into daddy-daughter spa days or surprise galas with people named Biff unless you're fully on board.” He held up both hands like he was surrendering to the UN. “Consent, autonomy, boundaries—check, check, and triple check.”

He paused, glancing toward the hallway Elle had toddled down earlier. “I might be new to this whole father thing, but I’m not gonna steamroll you into being my picture-perfect long-lost kid. That’s not fair to either of us.”

Then he leaned back in the chair and raised a single brow. “Now, chores. I was thinking nothing unless you want to pitch in considering I have people who handle most of the average tower maintenance since the Avengers and I are sometimes gone for days at a time.” 

“I see. Well I'm willing to help around the tower, and I wouldn't mind doing most things except hand washing pots and pans, mowing the lawn, and doing other people's laundry– and I don't want any of your “people” touching my laundry!” 

Tony raised his eyebrows, clearly holding back a grin. “Wow, okay. Strong opinions on suds and grass. Noted.” He threw his hands up in mock surrender. “I shall bravely spare you the traumatic burden of touching a crusty frying pan. You are free, young grasshopper.”

He let the joke hang for a second before he sat back in the chair again, the playfulness fading just enough for his voice to dip softer. “But hey—can I ask something?”

You didn’t say anything, but your silence wasn’t no. He took that as a green light.

“The laundry thing. And the pots. The way you said it… That wasn’t just, like, a diva list of preferences. It sounded like stuff that actually matters to you. Is there a reason?”

It wasn’t accusatory, and it wasn’t pushy—just curious. He tilted his head a bit, voice low and without the usual shine of sarcasm. “You don’t have to tell me. But if there’s a story there… I want to hear it. Not as Iron Man. Just… me. Tony. Who’s trying real hard not to screw this up.”

Then—classic Stark—he couldn’t help himself. “Also, for the record, if I ever do need you to mow a lawn, something’s gone horribly wrong and we’re probably being held hostage in a cul-de-sac simulation.”

"It's just that," you started softly "with the clothes-- they're all I have of the times I had with my family before the river styx took 'em. And with the pots and pans, its a two for one combo of the fact the task gives me sensory overload and also because my youngest sister; Milly, really enjoyed doing the pots and pans." 

You trailed off slightly before saying "We would trade off the jobs we didn't like," you admitted with a chuckle, a fond, bitter sweet, smile blooming on your face. "I'd give her pots and pans, and I'd take out the trash– or something to that effect." 

Tony’s mouth parted slightly like he had something to say, but the words stalled out on the runway. His gaze dropped to the table for a second, then came back up to meet yours, a little softer than before.

“Okay,” he said finally, voice low but steady. “That makes sense. That’s… a good reason. A really good reason.”

He rubbed the back of his neck again, a nervous habit you were starting to clock. “I didn’t think about it like that. I mean, I usually just outsource my emotional damage to therapy bots and billion-dollar distractions.”You let out a small snort, which seemed to relax him a little.

“Look, I know I crash-landed into your life,” he added, gesturing vaguely, “but if trading trash for peace of mind is what works for you? Then yeah. No pots, no mowing, no laundry invasions. We’ll write it in ink.”He leaned forward, elbows on the table, more genuine now. “Thank you for telling me that. I know you didn’t have to.” There was a science that fell over the two of you.

 "I also had two more questions that popped in my head." you said while closing the notebook and putting the elastic string over the cover, holding it together snugly. "One, do you practice any particular religion? and two, what does the average dinner look like at the tower? I ask because I don't eat red meat and unfortunately have a small palate in regards to vegetables– I am working to expand it though.." You say and then trail off, starting to feel slightly embarrassed for over sharing so much about your eating habits.

 He probably doesn't care and will just make whatever, I mean dad did. You think to yourself while holding intense eye contact with the table, the wood engravings seemingly very intriguing all of the sudden. 

Tony tilted his head a little, processing both the questions and the sudden shift from grief to grilled veggies. He didn’t laugh, didn’t poke fun—just blinked, then gave a little shrug.

“Well, I don’t exactly go to church on Sundays, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “Closest thing I’ve got to a religion is probably quantum mechanics… or maybe Pepper yelling at me to drink water.” He smiled like he was joking, but it didn’t feel dismissive. More like he didn’t want to make it weird.

“As for dinner,” he continued, resting back in his chair, “it’s a mixed bag. We’ve got JARVAS, so meals can be customized. And if you’ve got a limited veggie roster, that’s not a crime, kid. You’re not on trial for brussel sprouts.” You let out a half-snort, still not quite looking up.

“I mean, hell, Banner won’t eat anything purple. Says it’s ‘too on the nose.’ And Clint puts ranch on spaghetti, so honestly? You’re already starting from a higher moral ground than most of the crew.”Then he reached over, nudged your notebook gently with one finger.

“Thanks for telling me. Seriously. And just so you know—food preferences, routines, stimming stuff, whatever—none of it’s too much. That’s just called being a person.”He leaned in slightly, tone lowering like it was a secret just for you. “And between you and me? I’ve got a palate like a trash raccoon, so if you ever want to survive off toaster waffles and orange slices for a day? I won’t judge.”

“Ok, since it's not too much, in regards to religion I’m ex christian and now practice Hellenistic polytheism..” you feel awkward for some reason. There's no specific reason, you don’t need to prove anything to him. So why am I so nervous? “So if you hear me muttering to a pile of crystals and candles just know that's me saying a prayer to either Lady Aphrodite, Lady Athena, Lord Apollo, or Lady Hestia, sooo yea..”

Tony blinked. Not in a weirded-out way, more like a “processing new data” kind of blink. Then he leaned back and gave a soft huh, like he’d just found out you spoke four languages and were also a decent roller skater.

“Okay, so… Greek gods. Got it.” He paused for half a beat. He had said it with a casual shrug, like this was a totally normal Tuesday conversation. Then he tilted his head a bit, genuinely curious.

“Do you—like—is there a schedule for who you pray to? Or is it more of a vibes-based approach? Do you rotate ‘em weekly, or is it like… Lady Athena on test days, Lady Aphrodite when you wanna feel hot?”

His eyes twinkled a bit, clearly teasing, but not mocking. There was space in his tone. Respect. Like, okay, maybe he didn’t understand it all—but he wasn’t going to make you feel weird about it.

Then he gestured loosely toward the invisible pile of crystals you mentioned. “As long as nothing’s gonna explode or summon a ghost army through the HVAC system, we’re good. I’ve had enough paranormal chaos in my life.”

“Don’t worry, I have a visceral hatred for ouija boards.” you said with a shrug and scratched the back of your neck. “You’re not gonna scare me off, kid. You’ve met me, right?” He gestured vaguely to himself. “Billionaire tech mogul with a side hobby in world-saving trauma bonding? I’m basically chaos in a three-piece suit.”

Then he leaned forward just a little, elbow on the table. “So. No ouija boards, minimal beef consumption, a healthy fear of pots and pans… and you pray to the Greek pantheon. Sounds like we’re off to a great start.” “Ok, but don’t let this talk get to your head.” You said with a pointed look. “We had this so I could figure out if I want you in my life or not.” Tony held up his hands in surrender, expression flickering somewhere between amused and sincere. 

“Fair,” he said simply, with a little shrug. “This isn’t the ‘welcome to the family, Dad’ talk. Got it. Loud and clear.” He leaned back in the chair again, arms crossed like he was locking himself into neutral mode. But he wasn’t brushing it off—if anything, he looked respectful. Like he understood the gravity of what you’d said. “You’re the one steering the ship here, kid,” he added after a moment, voice a little softer. “I’m just trying to prove I’m not an iceberg waiting to sink it.”

 "Was that a Titanic reference?" You asked him slyly. Tony gave you a dramatic, offended gasp.“Excuse me—was that a Titanic reference? That was an elegantly disguised Titanic reference, thank you very much. I don’t do anything halfway.”

He pointed at you like he was marking you down for sass. “And for the record, I’m way more ‘Leonardo DiCaprio tragically floating to his death’ than iceberg. Not nearly cold enough to qualify for villainy these days.”

You snorted—you tried to hold it in, really—but a little laugh escaped. Tony perked up immediately, like that one sound validated every effort he’d made so far.

He leaned forward again, elbows resting on the table, expression finally settling into something genuine. “Look… whatever happens, I want you to feel safe. Heard. Like you’ve got the space to be exactly who you are, even if that includes muttering prayers to Apollo while making aggressively specific food requests.”

You blinked. That… wasn’t what you expected. It almost made your throat tighten up again.

He tapped the table twice, light but solid. “No pressure. You don’t have to decide anything right now. Just keep the door cracked open. That’s all I ask.”

There was a beat of stillness after that—just you, him, and the hum of the fridge. A kind of stillness that said, this conversation mattered. Like the air itself had stopped to listen.

Then Tony glanced at his wrist, where some sleek, holographic interface flickered to life for a second before vanishing again. “Unfortunately, being a part-time wannabe dad doesn’t cancel my full-time Iron Man obligations,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before he stood up with a stretch and a wince that betrayed a few too many years of crash landings.

“Alright, I’ve gotta head out before Rhodey sends a drone to drag me back. Apparently I’m essential or whatever.”He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a slim, matte card—black with that faint, familiar arc reactor glow around the edges. He slid it across the table to you.

“That’s got every way to reach me—phone, email, encrypted line, JARVAS relay, psychic pigeon system—okay, not that last one, but you get the gist. You ever need anything—anything—use it.” You nodded, fingers brushing the edge of the card but not quite picking it up.

Tony gave a small, crooked smile, then turned to Grandma and Paul, Jess and Elle had left to continue Ellw’s bedtime routine. He gave them both a nod, soft and respectful. “Thanks for letting me hijack your evening.”

He made it to the door, hand on the handle, before glancing over his shoulder one last time. His eyes met yours—hopeful, cautious, but open. “I’ll be back. When you’re ready.”

And with that, he slipped outside. A few moments later, the subtle fwoosh of repulsors echoed from the driveway, and when you peeked out the window, you saw him take off into the dusky sky, trailing gold and blue like some weirdly poetic firework.

The card on the table pulsed once, faint and steady.

He wasn’t pushing. But he wasn’t gone, either.

[along-the-silkroad]

Hellenistic Alexandria

When Alexander founded in the Nile Delta one of his many Alexandrias in 331 BCE, he would have been overjoyed to know that this settlement would later become one of the cultural capitals of the ancient world—a city that still bears his name today. This location was not entirely unknown to the Greeks. In fact, it was on the nearby island of Pharos, just across the limestone ridge where Alexandria would rise, that Homer situated the abode of Proteus, a prophetic sea god. Nor was Alexandria completely barren; the small Egyptian fishing village of Rhakotis, which would later become one of the city’s neighborhoods, was already established there. The site’s potential as a trading hub was evident from the thriving nearby ports of Canopus and Heracleion.

Researching Alexandria presents significant challenges. One major obstacle is that the city has been continuously inhabited since its founding, which severely limits opportunities for excavation. However, recent archaeological surveys and explorations of the old harbor—now submerged beneath the Mediterranean—have uncovered remarkable treasures and provided invaluable insights. For example, the discovery of several statues depicting Ptolemaic kings as pharaohs has challenged the long-held perception of Alexandria as a purely Greek-looking city. While the predominance of Greek culture is not disproven, these findings add nuance to previously accepted views. Nevertheless, much of what we know about Hellenistic Alexandria still relies heavily on literary sources, such as the writings of the geographer Strabo.

After Ptolemy I Soter gained control of Egypt following the Partition of Babylon in 323 BCE, he initially ruled briefly from Memphis before relocating with his retinue to Alexandria. Under his leadership, the city continued to grow and prosper. Alexandria was organized as a Greek polis and has often been regarded as distinct from the rest of Egypt. This distinction is notably reflected in its later Roman designation, Alexandria ad Aegyptum, meaning "Alexandria by Egypt," rather than "in Egypt."

Alexandria has often been described by ancient authors as being shaped like a cloak (chlamys), stretching approximately 6 kilometers from east to west and only about 2 kilometers from north to south. The city’s neighborhoods were laid out according to an organized grid plan, a design attributed to Deinokrates of Rhodes. Historically, both scholars and the public were quick to regard this type of urban organization as an enlightened Greek invention. However, the Egyptians had been building towns in this manner for centuries. One of the defining features of Alexandria, which astonished its visitors, was its broad streets lined with numerous stoai, giving the sides of the streets the appearance of a continuous colonnade.

The city was dominated by the vast palace complex of the Ptolemies, located to the east of the Great Harbour, primarily on Cape Lochias. This grand district housed the renowned Museum and Library, the tomb of Alexander the Great, and the sepulchers of the Ptolemies, eventually united within a pyramid-shaped structure commissioned by King Ptolemy IV (r. 221–204 BCE). The palatial quarter spanned between one-third and three-quarters of the city's area and included open spaces accessible to the public. These spaces hosted significant festivals, such as the Adonis festival, vividly described in Idyll 15 by Theocritus. Such celebrations were pivotal in nurturing a shared "Alexandrian" identity. Nearby, the Temple of Poseidon and the Theatre on Hospital Hill added to the city's cultural and architectural splendor.

One of the most celebrated architectural projects initiated by Ptolemy I was the renowned Lighthouse on the island of Pharos, designed by Sostratos of Knidos. Over time, the lighthouse became synonymous with the island itself. However, Ptolemy I did not live to see its completion. Beyond its practical function as a beacon for seafarers, the lighthouse served as a powerful piece of state propaganda, symbolizing the might and grandeur of the Ptolemaic dynasty. Later hailed as one of the “Seven Wonders of the World,” the Lighthouse of Pharos stood as a testament to ancient engineering and ambition. Sadly, earthquakes and the subsequent reuse of its materials have reduced this once-majestic structure to little more than its foundations.

Diodoros tells us that in his time (1st century BCE), approximately 300,000 "free" inhabitants lived in Alexandria. According to Jane Rowlandson, this suggests a total population of around 500,000. Most of these inhabitants were of Greek and Macedonian descent. As vividly portrayed by Theocritus in his Idyll 15, many settlers from the Hellenic world initially retained the identity of their mother city during the 3rd century BCE. However, a study by Willy Clarysse (1998) indicates that by the 2nd century, wealthier citizens had begun to develop a distinct "Alexandrian" identity.

In addition to Greeks and Macedonians, many other ethnic groups lived in the metropolis, including Egyptians, who resided in the neighborhood of Necropolis. The hostility and racism prevalent in the city are vividly depicted in the aforementioned Idyll by Theocritus, which describes Egyptians as nothing more than thieves. Another important community in Alexandria was the Jewish population. According to tradition, it was here that the Hebrew Bible was translated into Greek by 72 translators at the request of King Ptolemy II (r. 285–247 BCE). Over time, a significant portion of the Jewish community came to embrace Greek culture, in stark contrast to their northern counterparts, who fought wars to resist such assimilation.

Near the Egyptian quarter stood the Temple of Serapis, also known as the Serapeum. The temple, in its recognizable form, was constructed under Ptolemy III (r. 246–222 BCE). Serapis was a syncretic deity, arising from the combined worship of Osiris and Apis. He was often depicted in a Hellenized style, and tradition holds that Ptolemy I introduced this god to the settlers of Alexandria. The goal was to provide them with a local yet familiar deity they could relate to, in contrast to the traditional Egyptian gods, whose animal-headed forms were alien to the Greek settlers. At the same time, the Osiris and Apis elements in the cult ensured that Serapis also resonated with the local Egyptian population. Over time, Serapis became an immensely popular god, venerated throughout the entire Mediterranean.

Another focal point of Alexandria’s religious life was the dynastic cult. After their deaths, the monarchs of Egypt were venerated as gods, and festivals were held in their honor, such as the Ptolemaieia, the Arsinoeia, and the Basileia. The queens, in particular, were widely celebrated throughout the city. 

The will of the Alexandrians was poorly represented in political life, with key institutions, such as the bouleuterion, wielding little power. There is also no evidence of an assembly of the people. The political arena was dominated by the royal family, and understandably so, as Alexandria served as the center of a Hellenistic kingdom. Nevertheless, the people found other ways to express their opinions on matters of public interest. In our sources, riots are frequently mentioned, such as the unrest that occurred after the murder of Arsinoe III.  Olivier Goossens

[sophieinwonderland]

"They're Hellenists now?!"

I love the title here, and how this r/systemscringe member is freaked out that systems do, in fact, exist in all religions!

That's right! Nowhere is safe from us!

Yes dear, people do tend to talk differently in spaces where they can be anonymous and not have their lives and reputations be ruined due to rampant ableism. The fact that many systems would be afraid to say this aloud because of social consequences, including losing support from friends, family, and possibly even their employment is really not the slam dunk you think it is.

I don't know why I keep reading takes from these subreddits when they all make me lose braincells every time.

First, seeing yourselves as separate people is fine. Healthy multiplicity is a valid goal.

But even if it wasn't and you take the outdated view that you need to see yourselves as one person in order to heal, people do counterproductive things all the time.

"Real people wouldn't do this because it's counterproductive" is the biggest indicator that you have somehow managed to go through your whole life without ever interacting with even one single real person. Because if you ever had, you would know better!

I know it's hard for you people, but please at least try to use your brains for once!

It's only one alter who wants to practice, so it would feel dishonest to claim they themselves, as the alter writing that post, was a follower of Artemis. It's likely they have a different religion.

Again though, this is an anonymous account.

And more importantly, people with DID... and I know this is a shock to r/systemscringe... ARE HUMAN BEINGS!!!

They are not a monolith, and even if some are reluctant to come out as having DID in public, it's pretty absurd to think they all will.

And it being a covert disorder doesn't mean that nobody with the disorder will ever talk about it. It means that it can be hard to detect given that amnesia can make switching hard to remember, and a lot of the experiences in it are internal. If someone with DID doesn't tell you, there's a good chance you wouldn't know. From the outside, they might just seem forgetful, and to change moods a lot.

The disorder being covert doesn't give you an excuse to fakeclaim anyone who talks about having it!

It's infuriating that r/systemscringe's standards for fakeclaiming is literally just... saying that you have a disorder...

And one final point is that for the people who are ashamed and won't talk about it, the reason for this is because of people like those on r/systemscringe who will treat them like they're either lying, crazy, OR BOTH! And the way to fight shame and normalize talking about DID and OSDD is to be brave, take risks, and talk about having them in places that aren't just about those disorders.

So congrats to that one user who went and spoke about their alters in the Hellenism subreddit. It's only a small step forward, but progress will be made by a million small steps like this one.

[wiredghosts]

I see a lot of posts talking about how some people see Hellenistic polytheism as a fandom. I have some opinions on this. I started being a major like s tier Percy Jackson fan. This introduced me to different religions that were not talked about or known about where I grew up (very small Bible thumping southern town) I agree that people who have committed themselves to their gods and/or their practice should not see this as a fandom. It's a religion and a practice for some. I do not just devote myself to my gods but I accept their help in other areas of my life. I feel like if you were introduced to this by a fandom you shouldn't be ashamed as long as you don't blend the two.

But at the same time, how can you determine how someone sees the religion? This is a genuine question. A lot of practices and offerings in our community are often seen in the fandom space. Making art as offerings is akin to fan art. Being emotionally connected to the gods in one way or another could be in line with certain fandoms. I would really like to open up a discussion on this topic bc I've seen it time and time again.

Anyways toodaloo��

Ps. This is not a very well drawn out post I just wanted to open up a discussion on it, I'm still getting used to typing my thoughts out in a coherent form.

[windsweptinred]

The fact that Dream had to deal with the Greek Pantheon as his family in law is both horrifying and absolutely hilarious. Did the poor naive soul walk into that thinking it couldn't be any worse then his family? ... There's I'll do anything for my beloved wife to be and dealing with Lord grope first, think never as your father in law. Yeah sure Dream, live separately from your wife to 'keep it special'. I'm pretty sure that's code for, keep your entire family of chaotic neutral rabbits way way... Way over there where I don't have to see, speak or hear them. Ever! Wow, think of the mutual family gatherings. At some point, Desire and Aphrodite shared the same breathing space and yet the world somehow surivied past the hellenistic period. Amazing!

[whencyclopedia]

Gymnasium

The Gymnasium was a Greek building originally used for athletic activities but which came, over time, to be used also as a place of study and philosophical discussion. In the Hellenistic Period, gymnasia became highly standardized both in architecture and function and continued their important role in a young male's physical and general education. They became a common feature across the Greek world and were adopted and adapted by the later Romans, eventually evolving into the huge multi-purpose complex that was the Roman baths.

Origins of the Gymnasium

The name gymnasium (gymnasion) derives from the Greek word for nudity (gymnos) as all exercise and sports were done by the male only members in the nude. The earliest recorded examples of gymnasia date to the 6th century BCE and were simple affairs consisting of an area of packed earth shaded by trees located somewhere close to a river or spring. They were especially common at sanctuary sites such as Delphi, Olympia, and Nemea.

The gymnasium may have evolved from the necessity for a dedicated space where young Greek men (ephebeia) could train and improve their fitness to make them ready for warfare. In battle they would fight as hoplites and so have to wear heavy bronze armour and carry a large bronze shield. Another view is that gymnasia were reserved only for the aristocracy and so came to be a place where men could demonstrate their physical, as well as their social, superiority to the lower, agricultural class.

The typical sports practised were wrestling, running, boxing, jumping, discus, and gymnastics. Many would have been accompanied by rhythmic music. Sports useful for warfare included archery, javelin, armed combat, and using catapults. Sports were supervised by a trainer or paidotribe, perhaps an older athlete who had gained experience at the great Games of Greece. An aleiptes was responsible for oiling and massaging members. Each year a competition might be held too, the Hermaia, where members of the gymnasium participated in a torch race and competed in three categories of events: vigor (euexia), discipline (eutaxia), and endurance (philoponia).

Continue reading...

[ohwolfling]

Waterdeep Style & Culture (part one)

I've been working on pinning down some aesthetics/cultures connected to Baldur's Gate 3 and the Forgotten Realms in general. Y'all voted that you'd like to see my ideas on Waterdeep FIRST so here ya go.

I (and many others) have spoken about Gale Dekarios being INCREDIBLY Greek coded, even before you find out the Dekarios bit. So in my mind, Waterdeep is deeply Greek coded. First, Chessenta does exist in Faerûn and is very openly Hellenistic/Greek inspired.

There will be pretty pictures & stuff, promise, but first let's talk about concepts of Greek myth & early society & how it relates to our Wizard of Waterdeep.

Themes/Ideals

Art and artistry served the gods and gods made people in their image and of course in Greek mythology gods and especially demigods loved to be a mess in, on, around, or about mere mortals. The parallels there are obvious… Gale speaks first of feeling the Weave, of composing with it. It’s art and artistry to HIM, regardless of any limitations, codes, or creeds Mystra or anyone else might try to put around it. Another parallel is the concept of Arete. Arete refers to the journey to personal excellence. It’s a belief that everyone is called to be the absolute best version of themself, with the acknowledgement that that is different for every living creature, and from person to person. Do we perhaps know a wizard who takes that perhaps too seriously and has been historically manipulated and controlled around that concept? Hmmmm.

Aesthetics

Greek Arts

Mosaics, Tiles, painted everything. Bold and natural. There’s a sharp contrast between the fine lines of Waterdeep’s architecture, the precision needed for its docks, its ships, and the boldness of its artistry, applied to all things. Art is meant to be seen, experienced. And all art there needs to survive winds and storms all kissed with the salt of the sea. 

My general idea of seafaring/fisherman communities and the specificity of Greek inspiration, especially mosaics, leads me to imagine a Waterdeep that utilizes clear motifs, themes, and symbols. You can already see from the photos I selected above that images reflect the natural surroundings but also lend themselves to myth. Even in busier, more detailed work, there are figures that STAND OUT! 

Clothing (symbols, structure, some talk of status, jewelry below)

Here’s an excerpt from a fic where I have Gale lay out a typical, representative Waterdeep dinner. Here, I utilized my ideas about folk/mythological symbolism and its use in even an artistry most of us don't event think about, dishware and such:

“Come and see,” Gale extends a hand, unnecessary for a walk through the foyer and kitchen and into the dining area but Tav takes it eagerly.  Tav gives a genuine sigh of awe at the table before her. This gladdens him. He meets her own sigh with one of his relief. She lets go of his hand to circle the table.  It was simple illusory magic but Gale took care in making a series of ethereal fish in blues and golds seemingly swimming just above the scene, a few of them circling playfully around the candelabra in the center of the table. The table itself Gale had lain with a gold runner with embroidered blue waves and copper boats along its length, a very old tapestry motif that had been popular in Waterdeep before Gale’s time. Still, it was handmade with care by his own grandfather. He resists the urge to tell Tav this in great detail, wanting instead to be present. He focuses on how charmed Tav seems by the space. On either side of the candelabra Gale had placed two wine goblets, bronze with inlaid seahorses the likes of which donned ships during Waterdeep’s parade seasons, which Tav had not yet experienced. A carafe sat on the corner of the table, covered in hand painted seahorses of a less stylized nature.

Clothing

symbols and structures

I think these symbols extend to clothing as well, perhaps less on the day to day (though I don’t think Waterdeep has a concept of being overdressed in so far as having prints, patterns, and embroidered details go). Embroidery is reminiscent of the mosaic and tile arts, taking turn with repetitive detail or focusing in on one figure or symbol. I won't get too much into jewelry for now but I do think small jewelry pieces might be used to signify rank and status in various arenas of Waterdeep life (and this is something that happens in a few magic school campaigns for Forgotten Realms), using specific coins or beads to communicate anything from authority to "first time caster, please be kind" and "this bard breaks suddenly to jam" to which district a person is representing. This is an especially impactful idea to me because I imagine that Gale may have given up all these other pieces, including signifiers of House Dekarios and his achievements at Blackstaff to solely represent Mystra once he became Chosen. I've also included some of Elia Fernandez's ASOIAF women art because of the specific way they use house sigils. Dynamic, colorful symbols.

I imagine summers are hot so you want clothes to have enough structure to SERVE and to have a base if you want to strip down OR add light linens for more protection from the sun. I want to combine the silhouettes we see from ancient Greece- cloaks and tunics and, yes, shapes similar to the Roman toga- with the flowing structure we see of the wizard robes we encounter in Baldur’s Gate 3. 

As a note, I think Waterdeep- partly by virtue of having so many places where people go to train as monks, bards, wizards, etc so having a huge uniformed student population, partly by virtue of having a canon drag scene- considers most pieces of fashion to be non-gendered. So any of the silhouettes included here, be they skirts, deep Vs, corsets, underbust details, etc, I'm assuming are flexible to and socially normal/accepted for any gender expression.

Lastly (for this round), here's a color palette for our Waterdeep aesthetics thus far.

I have a part two outlined that I hope I'll get to soon! It will be influenced by another island culture with a rich art/textile history and open us up to more fashion subcultures and how they reflect the working class and more physical studies of Waterdeep.

Feel free to let me know what else you might be interested in a series like this. Would you like more jewelry? Are you interested in interiors? any other specific elements of culture you'd like aesthetics for? Any time periods irl speak to you when you think of Waterdeep?

Thank you to those who voted to see this first and to anyone who reblogs or chit chats. If you'd like to support my sanity and so make it easier for me to do bigger fun things like this, I'm on ko-fi and Twitch and won't look a donation or support horse in the mouth.

[dionysusfanatic]

I was wondering how to start worshiping the gods and stuff? like making alters and making offerings? are there rules to it?

thanks for the question!!!

yeah, hellenism doesnt require an initiation or anything like that, so sure, go crazy, build your altar and make your offerings!!

HOWEVER, I do suggest making a lot of research before worshipping a deity. like learn their history, their myths... you can find out a lot of info by looking up your preferred deity on theoi.com (just look up the deity's name + theoi on Google and the first result should be their theoi page). there, youll find a summary of that deity, their family, their main myths, and most importantly the og sources!!!!

though when reading the myths remember that they didnt literally happen. the myths are human made stories that depict the relationships between gods (the gods being abstract concepts). these myths were written long ago in a culture with different ethic norms and standards to our current ones, so youll probably see a lot of things that are frowned upon in our current world (the big ones are r*pe and abduction. its very common to see stories where the gods just do that. thats because in the culture where those stories were created, those things infurtunately were very common). that doesnt mean they actually did those things, it just means that the people that told and wrote the stories decided that in their context, it made more sense to represent the relationships between the gods that way.

ALSO, not very deity is gonna vibe with you, and its something you just have to accept. if a god doesnt want you worshipping them youll know. that doesnt mean you can never interact with that deity, it just means that you have to give them space (or time. maybe a deity isnt clicking with you because its just not the right time for you to worship them, or maybe they just havent warmed up to you yet) best way to know is to just worship them. if they dont like it theyll let you know. or you could do some divination (tarot, pendulum...) to ask them directly. whatever works for you.

so yeah lol you can build your altar, make your offerings, say your prayers right now if you wanted to, but I recommend doing research first. welcome to the hellenist community! may the gods bring you joy and happiness!

[an-imaginary-person6]

People let’s talk about an aspect in Hellenistic astrology:

Planets in detriment. What is a planet in detriment? It’s a planet in the opposite sign of what it rules. So the detriment of Mars is Taurus and Libra, Detriment of Venus is Aries and Scorpio, Jupiter Gemini and Virgo, and so on.

This is the Tl; dr Detriment means planets have to do their jobs in fundamentally different ways with different rules. Rules they are uncomfortable with. But they do their jobs. Whether that’s good for you or not. These placements do not make you an objectively bad person. I repeat these placements do not make you an objectively bad person. Thank you.

I have 3 planets in detriment. My Sun, Saturn, and Mars. But what does this mean. Think of it like this, the planets are the what of the zodiac. It describes the nature of the signs. And signs are the how, what resources does the planet have. How is the planet working with it. And the houses are where (No the First house does not equal Aries 2nd Taurus, it does for me cause Aries rising but not for everyone).

Think about like this. For example let’s say a Scorpio rising with Mars in domicile in the first house. What is the Planets innate nature? Mars is the planet of war, famine, loss, destruction, severing, the end of things, squares( like squaring up and literal squares) . What is it working with? Scorpio, Scorpio is a sign by its nature can go extremely deep. These are not surface level things and they can hold a grudge. They can be paranoid about who maybe out to get them.

So let’s put these together. Mars in Scorpio is a Mars at its best. It can do its job very well because it’s in its own home. They know where everything is and therefore this Mars can carry itself. So how does Mars work, well and inherently tempered. Scorpios are not loud or prominent, they are rather infamous but in such a way they don’t drag attention to themselves.

Basically listen to Scorpio Mars in the First house, they are probably right about their assumptions. Unless other placements indicate otherwise. Oh, and the where is the first house so the person is the very embodiment of Mars. They can possess sharp features or just an aura of intimidation from Mars.

So what happens when a planet is detriment. The Sun in Aquarius for example. What does the Sun signify, it’s bright, light, and noticeable. The sun is a constant (atm) and naturally draws attention to itself. That’s why it’s in domicile in Leo and exaltation is Aries, but that’s for later.

When the Sun is in Aquarius it struggles to light for itself. Aquarius, like Capricorn, is the detriment of the luminaries because it’s so dark. Saturn is so far from the sun so these signs carry this expression. This means the Sun shines bright in a dark area rather than being light when the sun is out. The sun as a symbol enjoys when things are bright when light is gaining more time.

However in Aquarius light is only just starting to move in. From the darkest part of the year. So the Sun is using resources in a house it doesn’t like because Saturn enjoys the dark and exclusively uses fairy lights and candles for light.

Which is like very nice, but not the best space for the Sun to work with. Trust the Sun still does its job, it still serves as the part of your soul that shines. It’s just hard to see that shine. Because the shine is external and not internal like Capricorn it means the Sun sign likely cannot view themselves in the most objective light.

And they’re weird. That’s not just a stereotype, it’s a fact. Both Capricorns and Aquarius live at the boundaries. So their oddness is unique, at least for the Sun and the rising signs. The Sun will do its job just in very odd ways.

In the next installment I will talk about mutual reception. And some mitigating factors.

Resources are: Chris Brennan, an astrologer on TikTok by the name Ellie, somehow Demitra George. I know she’s in there.

[jeannereames]

hi dr. reames, I'm wondering: is the information in this link viable? I'm a bit hephaestion fangirl and and I've never seen this before (without spaces): https://greekreporter. com / 2015/09/30/hephaestions-monogram-found -at- amphipolis- tomb/

The Kasta Tomb

So, this was part of an early proposal by Peristeri (excavator) about the occupant of the Kasta Tomb (sometimes called the Amphipolis Tomb). It’s still held in some circles. But the bones of five people were found in there: a woman over 60, two middle-aged men (35-45), a neonate (newborn) and a 5th person whose bones are too incomplete to identify. None of those is (probably) Hephaistion. Once an old woman was identified, speculation turned to proposals that it was Olympias. But her tomb was supposedly in Pydna, as mentioned in later texts. They might have moved her to Aigai…but why take her all the way to Amphipolis? Makes no sense. It looks to me like the shared tomb of a wealthy family. Maybe not unlike that of Lyson and Kallikles—another Macedonian tomb housing multiple people, and nobody we’d ever heard of before finding the tomb, btw.

Anyway, as for this monogram, it would appear to be the artisan’s signature. Ironically, I just posted about this over on Bluesky in relation to a recent and poorly fact-checked article about the same tomb, that also claimed it was Hephaistion’s. (Not reposting it here because it was wrong, but it involved the astronomical positioning of the tomb.) If it were Hephaistion’s tomb, his name would appear differently, and we only rarely find names in Macedonian tombs. No, again, what we’re seeing there is the artisan’s signature.

An article on artisan signatures, which includes one named “Hephaistion.”

The upshot is…the Kasta Tomb doesn’t belong to Hephaistion.

I also don’t think it’s a 4th century tomb at all, or if so, very very late/early 3rd century. I think it’s probably better dated to the first half of the 3rd century. For one thing—which nobody seems to talk about—the mosaic contains BLUE pebbles. I haven’t seen a single pebble mosaic in Pella or Aigai, dated to the 4th century, that used blue pebbles. They’re all from a color pallet of the time that doesn’t include blue (browns, dun, greens, golds, oranges, reds). I don’t think we know who it is—except somebody with a shit-ton of money. Maybe a member of the Antigonids? I’ll leave that for my Hellenistic-era colleagues to debate.

A reminder: it’s often all but impossible to name who’s in a tomb…although archaeologists like to. Why? Media attention (and thus, possibly more/continued funding). It annoys me, although I do get where they’re coming from. Digs are expensive and funding can be dicey.

I mean, which article would you read?

Wealthy Tomb with Amazing Mosaic Located in North Greece!

Tomb of Hephaistion, Alexander’s Lover, Found in North Greece!

Ha. So, I get it. But really, it’s misleading. And in this day of AI shit and Way! Overblown! Headlines! On! YouTube! (et al.), it’s tiresome, as well. The “louder” the headline, the more likely I am to blow it off as made up.

[hyakinthou-naos]

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