#you need! and may He grant you useful knowledge and a successful future!

[kyungsein]

<ep.583-584 - lhh is actually a war criminal(0)>

which makes sense. (not really)

it's cute how killer king gets embarrassed of being compared to yoo joonghyuk. bet he actually likes that

guys being cute thanking each other and trying to make the other take the items

why is lhh decided not to take the random item box... WHAT'S WITH THE BOX

uh oh

UH OH

sooooo. while lhh did not actually write orv he did write the numerous drafts that are now integrated into the world he transmigrated into - containing boss's full attack patterns, new item properties etc, but most importantly - people. so do their deaths count or something. just how many drafts you wrote. or is it referring to something else?

"may the story bless you" "i hope the story will bless them as well"

new gear!! and a slime! i guess!

and OF COURSE the box was already used. someone is going to get their ass kicked in the near future.

granted it was yjh who used the random item box, but kk and yerin won't know that

one again, lhh, what. did. you. write. in. drafts

if there are now two boxes what else did you create. what doom have you brought upon this land.

so this is the 41st turn from lhh's drafts about ways of survival + expanded setting of orv then and people who transmigrated are readers of his work specifically and most likely are all from the theater event

guide on how to convincingly behave like a who knows what from outer space when you are actually just Some Guy - example of correct behavior:

and of incorrect one

try harder next time

lhh got invited on an outing with his animal friends, good for him

love how kyung sein prays to kdj for success

hsy showed up again HIIII hellooo

also love how lhh, hsy and yjh steal items/sub-scenarios from each other - first lhh robs hsy of the rewards for ichthyosaur, then yjh uses the first random item box while lhh and the gang find the second, which hsy needed, but she's got the broken faith which lhh wanted and now no one will have the unbreakable faith since all the boxes were used. everyone who runs with future knowledge sabotages each other, and it's glorious.

[ngmn2002]

Hi

i saw your posts about the new chapter , it was great 👍👍

We know Sakura has been imprisoned for 100 years and natsuhiko is immortal but what I don't understand is that they are strong ' why do they need tsukasa , and what is his role, Iwish you could tell me about his role , your theories 😞😞

im sorry that's long 😔

Have a nice day

Hi.

That's nice to hear.

I think your answer lies within sakura's wish to finally be able to leave the school. To get that wish granted, there is something specific needs be achieved, which is the destruction of all the 7 yorishrios. Would her '100 years of being imprisoned' get her out? No, they tell us she can't escape with her power alone and pretty much, she can't do anything about the situation she is in. Would nat's 'immortality' alone get her out? No. For her to finally get out, all the yorishiros must be destroyed, the knowledge she got during these 100 years and nat's 'immortality' can be a help in achieving that main task of destroying the yorishiros, but alone they are never enough to achieve that. The 2 of them put together mean nothing. sakura and nat can sit without moving a foot forward with only these 2 factors.

Here comes Tsukasa's rule in getting her wish come true. Tsukasa is a yorishiro so that's the first reason, she needs his collaboration, and second, Tsukasa is the supernatural that grants wishes for supernaturals. Neither she nor nat's immortality can grant that wish for her. It's only Tsukasa, the person in charge of that specific task. And as we know, she ended up working for him as the price of said wish. All that means, they 'need' Tsukasa's help more than anything (after Nene's help). Tsukasa can make sure granting her wish goes 'smoothly' (however he sees fit) and work on the task in his way, he even can lend her some of his power to rely on to do her tasks. She/nat relies on his power too often.

Feels like a boss coming to check on his workers to see how successful at work they are. lol

We know how powerful and capable Tsukasa is, without him, I believe the 2 alone won't be able to achieve much. She actually admitted all that, didn't she?

 ... At times I feel grateful this thing exists. Makes me feel so good.

Anyway, we still don't really know how they met or under what circumstances. Maybe once we know that, we will see how truly desperate for his help she was.

A little note is that sakura 'supposedly' is that kind of person who does things after giving them a lot of thought. We should ask ourselves: "It doesn't make sense for her to ask for Tsukasa's help if that was meaningless in the end." From there, we get that: indeed she is in serious need for his help, as for all the details, they would be left to the future of the story. One more thing I want to add, is the fact that sakura, nat, Tsukasa... without the kannagi who can destroy the yorishrios, can't make a meaningful move. Now that Nene is there, they can proceed with their plans. The 3 of them actually need Nene more than anything to succeed.  

**** On a side note, I may give some kind of theory… regarding something about her wish and ending up working with Tsukasa. The yorishiro destruction can be benefitable for both of them. You will help me get my power back, and at the same time, you can have your wish granted as well.

A nice deal. ****

Have a nice day. ^^

[businessmagazineuae]

Solving Structural Challenges In International Finance with Active Capital 

Recently, we got to interview Mr. Inaete Merali, the Founder and CEO of Active Capital. To know more about the company, we asked him about the idea behind Active Capital.

“Active Capital is in the financial services spectrum, specialized in Merchant and Investment Banking activities in the emerging world.

However, you may be curious about how it all began. That’s why we discussed about Inaete Merali and Active Capital in detail.

Table of Contents

Commencing The Career Journey And Sharing Advice

Focusing On a High Value-added Proposition

Finding Opportunities In Challenges & Being Unique

Why did you decide to leave the position of CEO of a major Bank and create the start-up Active Capital? We asked Inaete.

Commencing The Career Journey And Sharing Advice

Every leader has a starting point from where they commence their journey. To know more about his career journey, we asked Inaete, “how did your career journey begin?”

He replied, “I have always had a passion for Banking, and within this sector, Corporate Finance, thus the Merchant & Investment Banking field. Naturally, to perform in this sector, one needs a special set of skills that does not occur in your first few years. One must initiate from the lower level and climb the ladder, which takes years. Be patient, and learn from your peers, but in a competitive world that is constantly changing. Only the amalgamation of hard work, personnel sacrifice, and associated ongoing skills development will allow you to be successful. Many also say you need luck, which I believe comes from the Almighty.”

With that, we also asked him to share his advice with beginners. “My advice to beginners is: take risks and don’t be scared to leave your comfort zone. Do not be preoccupied if you fail. A failure is an opportunity to begin again, intelligently. We learn more from our mistakes than from our successes. And once you achieve success, be humble and help others to grow with you too.” says Inaete. 

Focusing On a High Value-added Proposition

We discussed the goals of Active Capital with Inaete Merali.

According to him, “Active Capital seeks to offer a high value-added proposition with in-depth knowledge of the markets where it operates, enhanced by an international network. Our business model is designed to solve the lack of adequate infrastructure, which is bridged with the international Capital needed to execute and mitigate the lack of basic needs which we, in the developed world, take for granted.”  

The three major parts of their goal, as discussed by Inaete, are:

“Excellence in our approach and always achieving our clients’ highest standards. 

Sharing leadership with joint efforts in order to develop successful projects and build lasting relationships with our partners and stakeholders. 

Responsibility, we work to build a better future and are committed to the environmental and Governance change which is needed to create a more sustainable world.”

Finding Opportunities In Challenges & Being Unique

When discussing facing challenges, Inaete says, “In every challenge, there are opportunities. In fact, Active Capital was created in 2014 to focus on one specific geography, but the collapse of this intended market opened a valuable span of varied alternative options that resulted in broadening our horizons and pushed us to think out of the box. We are proud that this is our main revenue stream today.”

Along with that, every company needs to do something different to stand unique from its competitors. When we asked how Active Capital does that, Inaete said:

“Active Capital’s business model is unique in the sense that it was conceived using a venture capital approach to infrastructure development. Our business model also combines a social conscience for the development of the country where the project is being implemented with its financial viability. As such, unlike other traditional options, we make significant initial investment of seed capital and human resources, and the income only occurs if the project is launched.”

Why did you decide to leave the position of CEO of a major Bank and create the start-up Active Capital? We asked Inaete.

With that, he replied, “Being the CEO of a major bank was a stepping stone in my professional path as I was able to clearly realize the areas in the economic and financial markets that needed improvement to allow the country’s economic development. I must say that I often felt frustrated with the African Banks’ inability to actively participate in the development, which was highly dependent on Northern Hemisphere capital.

Also, as a CEO of the Bank, I was able to get acquainted with Presidents of Countries, Ministers, Chairmans, and entrepreneurs. They made me comprehend that by building an enhanced network and associating myself with adequate partners and financial resources, Active Capital could make a difference in the development of emerging economies and ultimately create a better future for the natives of these countries.

Thus, the combination of the African continent’s immense need for development in the decades ahead and the ability to draw investors into Active Capital provided us with this opportunity.”

Leading Towards A Game Changer – Technology

Upon asking about the use of technology in this modern era and if it’s helping his company grow, see what Inaete replies.  

“It is a game changer! It is particularly disruptive in basic banking. For example, technology has allowed small farmers to have the ability to access new markets and negotiate spot prices at international prices in a few seconds and receive income. Whilst a few years ago, they didn’t have updated information and had to sell at a much lower price to local buyers. I truly believe it will continue to compound over the next decades in transforming our lives. In fact, if I were allowed to go back in time, I wish that I would have more acute hindsight to foresee the way technology would transform the financial services industry, which today is so evident.” he says. 

Active Capital also uses innovative ideas to improve itself.

Inaete Merali, the CEO and Founder of Active Capital, says, “We must think out of the box to be competitive in an industry that includes international financial institutions, multilateral development agencies, and export credit banks supported by the Government. Thus, our approach to work with the Developers and Government’s building the bridge hand in hand.”

Business Expansion & Grabbing Opportunities

While discussing expanding Active Capital, Inaete says, “Today we are present in 5 countries and 3 Continents, which is due to our unique approach as mentioned above. We have a team of partners and associates that combine a global set of skills and cultivate the local content needed for each project with the international players in the development area.”

Which product or service will you be launching in the coming months? We asked.

“Once again, a challenge has brought us new opportunities. Due to the pandemic that closed down the world for 2 years, we had to look into new sectors and countries to deploy our Capital to achieve an adequate ROI for our investors. Thus, we launched a REIT and are concluding our first deals.” continues Inaete.

Would you like to say anything else to our viewers? We asked him lastly.

“Our goal is not simply to apply the best practices but to adopt models that work locally in each geography. We solve immediate and structural challenges by thinking creatively with our stakeholders.”

Connect with Inaete Merali on LinkedIn.

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

I’ve started watching The New Statesman properly, and I may well be mistaken (because I honestly don’t think Alan cares a fig about anyone but himself), but it comes across like Alan has a soft spot for Norman/Norma? Like, when the American couple are pretending they want to swing with them, Alan snatches Norma’s hand back, protectively and reiterates that they are “strict christians”. You might argue that Alan saw through their deception, but when they come clean, he seems caught off guard.

Awesome to hear you're watching TNS! You're not the first person to notice this soft spot Alan seems to have for Norma. I think there are a few reasons for this.

(This is gonna contain some spoilers by the way, so beware.)

Firstly, as TV Tropes points out, Marks & Gran decided to up Alan's nastiness in series 2. This is not to say Alan is nice in series 1 - far from it - but he ascends to new heights from series 2 onwards. This is highlighted in the first scene of series 2, in his first line:

"I did not say I opposed abortion, what I oppose is the so called woman's right to choose! It should be the state's right to choose. Ugly, stupid, poor people should not be allowed to have children!"

The episode also ends with Alan blackmailing a closeted gay man just because he can, and includes this great line, said as he attempts to murder Piers:

"Yes, I know I don't need the money, Piers, but you see I want it. Because I'm very, very greedy, Piers! That is why I became a Conservative!"

Much nastier Alan, no?

Marks & Gran also started focusing more on Alan's financial rather than political exploits from series 2 onwards, probably as he enjoys manipulating things from the shadows. The decision to make the various changes that occur between series 1 and 2 probably came about, I'm guessing, because being granted a second series is being given the green light. You don't usually know if you'll get more than one series when you start a show, so once it gets renewed you have another chance to review everything and adapt again in the hope that more future series will be forthcoming. I suppose it's a bit of a confidence boost, but also a chance to reflect on what was successful and unsuccessful in the first series and then adapt accordingly. The Young Ones did the same for their second series.

So, anyway, if series 1 Alan is ever so slightly softer than he is from series 2 onwards, this helps explain his friendlier relationship with Norma. It also might explain why Norma vanishes after series 1. If Alan was going to get even worse, was it realistic for him to have a person he was almost friends with? Someone he complimented from time to time and who was in on his schemes? Someone almost... Equal? Norma's disappearance could be more a reflection of the change in the character of Alan B'Stard, though I'm sure there were other reasons too.

Now, Alan is obviously no ally to the LGBT community. As I just mentioned, in s2e1 he blackmails a closeted gay man and tells him he "hates queers almost as much as [he] hates poor people". Inside The B'Stard File, a piece on Alan and Sarah's wedding mentions Norma being there pre-transition - the wedding occured before the show's canon starts. The word "transsexual" is used to describe Norma, which we recognise today as the outdated term for a transgender person. This would suggest that, whilst becoming a woman was Norma's get out of jail free card (literally), it was also something she'd wanted to do for a while, and she is in fact a trans woman.

So, Alan tolerates transgender people? What?

Well, in a manner of speaking. I doubt Alan is especially knowledgeable on what being transgender means or the reality of it. In s3e2 it is revealed he has been blackmailing Eugene Quail since he spotted him leaving a transvestites club, and it wouldn't really surprise me if the concepts of transvestism and transgenderism are basically the same thing in his head. Because Alan. Still, he compliments Eugene's choice of clothing, just as he sometimes compliments Norma's transition progress. And the example with Quail is Alan after his further B'Stardification. So why is he not being completely horrid to them both? Because his interactions with Norma and Quail are on his terms.

I think his stance lies in his politics. Alan is a libertarian (he says this in s1e3 and it's evident throughout the show), and libertarians believe in a small state (like conservatives), but also absolute freedom (unlike traditional conservatives). This means people should be free to dress and express themselves however they wish. Complete social freedom clashes with conservative social values quite strongly (people should be free to take drugs if they want; free to sleep with whoever they want; dress as they please; conduct themselves however they please; indulge in whatever they please - all of which horrifies the conservative sensibilities of, often but not always, religious morality, as well as traditional family values). This is why early libertarians were firm on identifying as liberals rather than conservatives.

Whilst on social stances (outwardly anyway, most Tories are hypocrites), libertarians and conservatives differ, it is undeniable that fiscally libertarians are go arm in arm with the new right branch of conservatism. Remember, if you should have freedom in every sense, you should have the freedom to accumulate as much wealth as you wish, through whichever means. And fuck everyone else, basically. Free market economics. That's Alan's excuse for making money through morally dubious means - why shouldn't he be allowed to make money where there is money to be made? Surely that should be none of the state's business? Surely taxation is only an infringement on his freedom to accumulate as much wealth as he likes? I think Alan's at his most libertarian (as well as his most nationalist and Brexity) in the interview with Walden, A. B'Stard Exposed.

Be careful with libertarianism, the "live and let live" attitude towards alternative lifestyles is really just a front for the truth, which is: "I'll let you exist, now you have to let me rip you off for every penny I can get".

Anyway, why have I gone off on a rant about political theory? Because I think that's basically Alan's attitude to transgender individuals. Fine, exist - preferably out of his little sphere of contact, because ew ordinaries - if you exist he can get money out of you. In Thatcher's Britain, where new right policies of laissez-faire economics and conservative social values were implemented, of course Alan is going to blackmail anyone who can't afford to be seen going against these conservative social values. In the early series especially, he tows the party line publicly and spouts conservative social values himself, while in private engaging with sex workers, porn, BDSM, bestiality, and adultery (the best example of this Tory hypocrisy is s1e3).

Alan isn't being progressive, in my opinion, just self-indulgent. I don't think he cares what people do with their lives, just as long as they don't do it near him. He wouldn't ever campaign for minority rights (not unless there was some lucrative underhand deal involved), because he's not in a minority, so why should he care? He's a conservative, so disrupting the status quo isn't high in his list of things to do... Unless it would benefit him financially, as that's what he balances everything against instead of a morality scale.

In his personal views, he's clearly homophobic. I reckon he'd also be transphobic to a trans person who got too close to him without his permission. Like I said, he interacts with Norma on his terms. He tolerates her because they already have a longstanding rapport, and their relationship is mutually beneficial. Norma is useful to Alan - she's his accountant, and throughout series 1 she comes up with solutions to a lot of his problems. Likewise, Alan is useful to Norma - he is loaded and can pay for her sex change. Because Alan's a libertarian, he doesn't care that his money is being spent on a sex change - which a traditional conservative most definitely would mind. Alan is not a righteous person (in the right wing sense I mean, obviously he isn't in the left wing sense). He puts righteousness on to tow the party line, but really he has no "heartfelt political principles" (as we learn in s3e1), so he really just doesn't care.

The question of whether he'd impose any specifically queerphobic laws if he had absolute power, or a close approximation (which the show basically ends on, although that ending was written out of future TNS projects), is something I'm not too sure on. I think it would just come down to how vindictive or indifferent he was feeling on any given day. As a libertarian, he should be freeing society from all its social and economic laws and having very little sway over people's lives... But things don't really work out that way under extremist dictatorships. He'd love the power and end up authoritarian, I think. Maybe only those he deemed rich enough already would be afforded freedoms, while the ordinaries have to prop up their decadent lifestyles. After all, a society where no one faces any compulsion to contribute at all isn't going to make Alan any money. So maybe you can be gay or trans or any other identity, but only if you're rich enough to pay for it. Sounds dystopian, although I suppose it sort of reflects an imbalance that already exists.

I've drifted from the point here. 😂

Alan and Norma. I sometimes wonder if Norma actually wanted to be Alan's wife. I don't know whether she fancied him - I'm undecided on that, Rowena Cooper is 23 years older than Rik, so I guess it would depend on Norma's tastes - but she can clearly see how it would benefit them both, provided nothing leak out about her. I could see the series 1 Alan tolerating this in an AU. It would be a marriage of convenience like his and Sarah's, only a more amiable one, so they'd both presumably sleep around. I'm just not sure if Alan would be fully up for the risk to his reputation. He'd need some reassurances that there was no chance of anyone finding out Norma's secret. Also, divorcing Sarah wouldn't be simple either - they'd need to catch her committing adultery for any chance of conservative sympathy for Alan.

I have actually thought about Alan's behaviour in that diner scene too! Mainly because, as he's reprimanding Guzzler for his behaviour and refusing to do as he wishes, he might lose the contract and then he'd lose his seat. So the fact that he says that to Guzzler at all proves that he really, really doesn't want to fuck around with him and his wife. For one thing, there's Norma's little secret. Plus, while Alan is homophobic in the traditional sense (he's a bigot), he also seems to be homophobic in the literal sense too (he does actually seem to be scared of gay men, which we see a bit in s2e5, which is a big part of homophobia).

Why exactly he grabs Norma protectively the way he does... Tis interesting, very interesting. It adds to the devout Christian image they were going for, of course, but both of them did appear to be genuinely spooked.

Norma has an arc over series 1 - her transition - but there was definitely more that could have been done with her character in further series. I don't think the later series suffer for their lack of her character - I think series 2 helps amp up the sharpness of the satire and Alan's sadistic tendancies, as well as giving Piers and Sarah larger roles - but in an AU there's stuff that could be explored with her.

Sorry for the waffle! Apparently, TNS has this effect on me. 😂

Thanks for the ask!

[dwellordream]

“...We may quickly describe the Dothraki social organization; while we only see inside one traditional Dothraki khalasar, we are repeatedly told it is typical and may take it as such (AGoT, 83-5, 195, 328). Each group of Dothraki is led by a male war-leader called a khal (whose wife is a khaleesi and whose heir is the khalakka) in a group called a khalasar. The khal‘s personal guard are ‘bloodriders’ and are sworn to the khal and are supposed to kill themselves after he dies (AGoT, 328).

The khalasar also has subordinate commanders called kos and smaller bodyguard units called khas (and at this point, you will forgive me a joke that I began to wonder if the Dothraki rode to battle on their khorses, drank out their khups and fought with khords, kows, and kharrows; it will surprise no one that Martin is not a linguist). The khal is the autocrat of this organization, he has a single, readily identifiable male heir who is his direct descendant (the khalakka) and should that heir be underage or not exist, the khalasar will disband. Strikingly, beyond the khal‘s male heir, family ties play no role at all in the organization of the khalasar or in relations between them.

This is not how horse-borne nomads organized themselves, although it bears a passing resemblance to some elements of pre-Chinggis Mongol organization. We can start by quickly ruling out the Great Plains as an inspiration and move from there. I am not an expert in the organization of any Plains Native American society (so please forgive any errors – but do tell me, so I can make corrections – I am doing my best!), but from what I have been able to read, the key institution is not the ‘chief’ but rather the extended family network (what the Sioux call, I believe, the ‘thiyóšpaye’) which were then composed by smaller households (‘thiwáhe’). The elders of those households elected their leaders; while certain families seem to have been more prominent than others, leadership wasn’t directly heritable. Direct inheritance doesn’t seem to have been as pressing an issue; territorial claims were held by the nation or tribe (the ‘oyáte’) while moveable property was held by the household or extended family network (and personal items might be buried with the deceased).

I am being a bit schematic here to avoid outrunning my limited knowledge, but a system of kinship bonds with elected leaders coordinating the efforts of multiple ethnically or linguistically related kinship groups is a fairly common system for non-state social organization (obviously that label obscures a lot of cultural and regional variation!). This would have been a plausible enough way to organize the Dothraki, with lots of deliberative councils of household leaders and chiefs that are often shrewd political leaders, managing the interests of many households, but presumably that wasn’t badass enough. It would have involved lots of complicated political dialogue and quite a lot less random murder. In any event, it is clear the Dothraki are not organized along these lines; kinship matters functionally not at all in their organization and even when Daenerys is present, we see no deliberation, merely the authority of the khal, enforced by violence.

What about the Mongols and other Eurasian steppe nomads? The Mongols and other steppe nomads were broadly organized into tribes (an ulus or ordu, the latter giving us the word ‘horde’ in reference to nomads) which were organized around a leader (for the Mongols, a khan or ‘chieftain’) and understood to be part of a given ethnic or linguistic grouping which might or might not be united politically at any given time. The position of khan was heritable, but with some significant quirks we’ll get to in a minute.

In theory, these were kinship groups, but in practice the incorporation of defeated clans and sometimes shifting allegiances blurred those lines. Ratchnevsky (op. cit., 12-3) notes a divide within groups between the non-free captives (otogus bo’ol) and the free followers of a khan (nökhör or sometimes spelled nökhöd), but these categories were flexible and not ethnically based – individuals could and did move between them as the fortunes of war and politics shifted; Temujin himself – the soon-to-be Chinggis Khan – was at one point probably one of these bo’ol. The nökhör were freemen who could enter the service of a khan voluntarily and also potentially leave as well, living in the leader’s household. This is a rather more promising model or the Dothraki, but beyond this very basic description, things begin to go awry.

First off – and you will note how this flows out of the subsistence systems we discussed last week – inheritance does matter a great deal to the Mongols. Steppe nomads generally tended to share an inheritance system which – I have never seen it given a technical name – I tend to call Steppe Partible Inheritance (though it shares some forms with Gaelic tanistry and is sometimes termed by that name). In essence (barring any special bequests), each male member of the ruling clan or house has an equally valid claim on the property and position of the deceased. You can see how this would function where the main forms of property are herds of horses and sheep, which are easily evenly divisible to satisfy such claims. Divide a herd of 100 sheep between 5 sons and you get 5 herds of 20 sheep; wait a few years and you have five herds of 100 sheep again. And for most nomads, that would be all of the property to divide.

This partibility was one of the great weaknesses, however, of steppe empires, because it promoted fragmentation, with the conquests of the dynastic founder being split between their sons, brothers and so on, fragmenting down further at each succession (each inherited chunk is often called an appanage, after the Latin usage and often they were granted prior to the khan‘s death as administrative assignments). But overall leadership of the empire cannot be divided; in theory it went to the most capable male family member, though proving this might often mean politics, war or murder (but see below on the kurultai).

Thus Attila’s three sons turned on each other and made themselves easy prey for what was left of the Roman Empire; Chinggis’ heirs did rather better, sticking together as regional rulers in a larger ‘family business’ run by the descendants of Chinggis until 1260 (Chinggis died in 1227), when they began to turn on each other. The Ottomans resolved this problem – seeing their empire as indivisible – through fratricide to avoid civil war. Note also here, how important knowing the exact parentage (or more correctly, patrilineal descent) of any potential descendant of the khan would be – we’ll come back to that.

On the surface, this might sound a bit like how Khal Drogo’s khalasar disintegrates on his death, but there are enough key wrinkles missing here that I think the match fails. The biggest difference is the importance of the larger kin group and biological inheritance. You will note above that the males of the entire royal family generally had claims on the titles and property of the deceased. And actual, patrilineal descent was important here – all of the successor states of the Mongols were ruled by rulers claiming direct descent from Chinggis Khan, down to the disestablishment of the Mughal Empire in 1857. If Khal Drogo has any extended family, they seem to be unimportant and we never meet them; they do not figure into to the collapse of his khalasar (AGoT, 633), whereas in a Mongol ulus, they’d be some of the most important people.

Indeed, Drogo’s khalasar splits up with no regard at all to the ruling family, something that Jorah notes is normal – had there been a living heir, he would have been killed (AGoT, 591). This is obviously not true of the Mongols, because Temujin, the future Chinggis Khan himself (and his brothers), was exactly such young living heir of a powerful khan and was not killed, nor was any serious attempt apparently made to kill him (Ratchnevsky, op. cit. 22) and Ratchnevsky notes that was unusual in this instance that Temujin’s mother was not supported by her brother-in-law (possibly because she refused to be remarried to him).

Moreover, succession to leadership was not automatic as it is portrayed in A Game of Thrones (either automatic in the way that Khal Ogo’s son Fogo could become Khal in the mere moments of battle between his death and his father’s, AGoT, 556 or automatic in how Drogo’s khalasar automatically disintegrates, AGoT, 591). Instead there was a crucial mediating institution, the kurultai (sometimes spelled quriltai), a council of chiefs and khans – present in both Mongol and Turkic cultural spheres – which met to decide who of the valid claimants ought to take overall leadership. Such kurultai could also meet without a succession event – Temujin was declared Chinggis Khan in the kurultai of 1206. There wasn’t typically a formal heir-designate as with the Dothraki, both because of the need for a deliberative kurultai but also because of the partible inheritance. It was rather exceptional when Chinggis designated Ögedei as his chief heir (as a way to avoid war between his other sons; Ögedei was the compromise candidate) in 1219.

We might imagine the kurultai upon the death of the Mongol version of Drogo would have been a complex affair, with political negotiations between Drogo’s brothers and uncles (should he have any) who might well use the existence of an heir as an excuse to consolidate power within the family, along with Drogo’s key lieutenants also seeking power. Of course we do not see those events because Daenerys is asleep for them, but we do hear them described and it is clear that the key factors in a Mongol kurultai – descent, family ties, collective decision-making – do not matter here. As Jorah notes, “the Dothraki only follow the strong” (AGoT 633) and “Drogo’s strength was what they bowed to, and only that” (AGoT, 591). There is no council – instead Drogo’s key lieutenants (all unrelated to him) take their chunk of followers and run off in the night. There is no council, no effort to consolidate the whole, no division of livestock or territory (because, as we’ve discussed, the Dothraki subsistence system considers neither and consequently makes no sense).

Likewise, the structures of Mongol control, either before or after Chinggis (who makes massive changes to Mongol social organization) are not here. Drogo’s horde is not the decimal-system organized army of Chinggis, but it is also not the family-kin organized, deeply status-stratified society that Chinggis creates the decimal system to sweep away. The Mongols did have a tradition of swearing blood-brothership (the Mongolian word is anda), but it only replicated strong reciprocal sibling alliances. It certainly came with no requirement to die if your blood-brother died, something made quite obvious by the fact that Chinggis ends up killing his blood-brother Jamukha after the two ended up at war with each other. And these relationships were not a form of ‘royal guard’ but intimate and rare. Instead, Chinggis intentionally assembled a personal guard, the keshig, out of promising young leaders and the relatives of his subordinates, both as a military instrument but also a system of control. Members of the keshig did not simply die after the death of their leader, but were bound to take care of the surviving family of the deceased ruler.

So apart from the observation that Steppe nomads tended to have singular leaders (but, of course, monarchy is probably the most common form of human organization in the historical period) and that they tend to fragment, almost nothing about actual patterns of Steppe leadership is preserved here. Not the basic structures of the society (the ‘nobles,’ kinship groups and larger tribal and ethnic groups which so dominated Temujin’s early life, for instance, see Ratchnevsky, op. cit. 1-88), nor its systems of inheritance and succession. Instead, most of the actual color of how Mongol society – or Steppe rulership more broadly – worked has been replaced with ‘cult of the badass’ tropes about how the Dothraki “only follow the strong,” only value strength and have essentially no other cultural norms.”

- Bret Devereaux, “That Dothraki Horde, Part III: Horse Fiddles.”

[worldburnrp]

“It was a maddening image —

Little by little, the rooftop space filled up with guests. It’s impossible for a rum-sponsored party not to turn lively; and certainly, it has. While some are happy with their drinks and stay in the venue, drinking and dancing their spirits away — others choose to venture out, either returning to their rooms or getting lost in the maze that are the corridors of The Mark hotel.

In either case, the night is light and young, and there’s not a worry in their minds.

Little do they know however, that in the shadows, the Syndicate awaits.

— and the only way to whip it was to hang on until dusk —

Although the night had been planned to exhaustion, it’d been all but a coincidence that the operation had fallen on the same date as the party launch. It’s a blessing, at the same time that it’s a curse; more people circulating the area isn’t ideal — but a sea of potential issues isn’t so much so, if they’re impaired to begin with.

130 million dollars, gone up in flames. But they ought to make their money back, somehow.

So here the Syndicate hides, and at around 10:30, they strike. Swift and professional as ever, they go completely unnoticed — and they will take all that they can.

A highly effective heist, right under their noses. Those 130 million earned back in just a night.

No wild cards, no action that isn’t necessary, were the instructions given. Money, jewelry, art, anything of true value — that’s what they’re after. Designed as a victimless crime as far as bloodshed goes, the Syndicate still accounts for all. No issue, lest you get in their way.

— and banish the ghosts with rum.”

Unfortunately however, some unlucky few have. As instructed, should anyone be a concern, be it that they’re found in their rooms or other areas in the midst of the operation — they should be neutralized, by whatever means necessary. All with still keeping their anonymity, and succeeding at their tasks.

The pairs that have crossed paths are:

Ludovica Malatesta and Rus Ralston

Nora Vidal and Lee Malkovich

Zafar and Mathias Cain

Vir Zafar and Ibrahim Ziani

Abel Rousseau and Nik Erykssen

Oliver Wright and Jin Yoo

Tima El-Masri and Audra Smythe-Priestley

Avi Grover and Samar Burman

Max Szczesny and Enzo Principe

Karolina Erykssen and Samar Burman

OOC Info:

Part Two out of Three.

Part two will run for a few days, to allow for everyone to comfortably write their interactions in time; an update will be made both on the blog and discord for subsequent parts.  

There is no requirement that people drop previous event threads set during Part 1 — but we encourage everyone to prioritize Part 2. This can be either through new fresh threads, or shifting your Part 1 thread into Part 2.

For characters not involved in the conflict, there are no restrictions to replying to starters (or continuing things) from Part 1, unless they were posted by someone, or are written with someone involved in the conflict. In that case, those starters may no longer be replied to. You’re also free to start any new things with other non-conflict characters as you wish.

If you wish to have any injuries (be them major or minor) or heavy impacting plots happen involving your character, please contact the admins so we can include it into the narrative.

Those in the conflict are encouraged to come up with scenarios where, mid-robbery, one would have the other held hostage. Be it at a hotel room, in some hidden office, or anywhere that is far from view and where there would be plenty to steal. They’re on a mission, after all. As always, if you have trouble coming up with ideas, the admins are always willing to help.

At the end of this post, we offer challenges to the guests. However, those are simply suggested interactions — and even if you choose to write it, your character is not limited to just writing those.

SYNDICATE CHARACTERS:

[ ALL SYNDICATE MEMBERS ARE WEARING NEUTRAL BLACK CLOTHING AND MASKS. IF THEIR CLOTHES WEREN’T NEUTRAL AT THE PARTY, THEN AT THIS POINT THEY WOULD HAVE CHANGED. NOTHING ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE (THAT THEY CAN CONTROL) SHOULD BE RECOGNIZABLE. EVEN IF ENCOUNTERING SOMEONE THEY HAVE MET BEFORE, THEY ARE TOLD TO KEEP THEIR IDENTITIES SECRET TO THE BEST OF THEIR ABILITIES. ]

For Syndicate members especially, Part 2 should be prioritized so that plots can flow easily.

If you have Part 1 threads, we won’t ask that you drop them, but that you work your way into finishing them — with your characters, above all, keeping in mind that they have a job to do. It might be a night of fun for everyone else, but not them.

From now on, you can only interact with other Syndicate members, or the character you were paired with.

You can write as many mid-robbery threads with your fellow Syndicate members as your heart desires. Interactions amongst them are allowed, and absolutely encouraged!

As far as the rest of the party goes, you may only interact with the character yours was paired with, as one is the other’s hostage.

Your character should be focused in the robbery itself and collecting valuable goods. Anyone they’ve encountered is damage control.

Important: this is meant to be an incredibly secretive and smooth operation. Get in, get out, without causing disturbance. The main party should not have any inkling or knowledge that this is happening.

POINTS AND CHALLENGES:

Syndicate members and conflict volunteers will each earn 20 points for writing their paired threads. (It doesn’t matter if one character ‘wrote’ the starter; both members will be awarded points.)

All remaining characters will earn 20 points for completing the challenges prompted below. They are not mandatory, but we will reward you if you choose to go forth with them.

The points above will be awarded at the end of the event, to account for any starters going unanswered or quickly dropped, as we wish to be as fair as possible.

Surprise! We’re also rewarding conflict volunteers with 30 points for being wonderful team players and allowing us to use their characters for this plot. We adore you and appreciate you, so here’s a small gesture to reflect that!

CHALLENGES:

Jennifer Callaghan recognizes Izaak Walker from his internet presence, and attempts to strike an interview, or even a comment. Izaak knows it’s unadvisable to go forth with it, given all the rum ingested tonight.

Andrea Galán has been avoiding Aaron Keaton, until they cross paths. There’s an inkling or knowledge of her involvement with crime, and tensions rise.

Gideon Hayes is spotted by an off duty Joaquim Borges whilst trying to deal — be it to a random guest, or worst yet, the very detective himself.

Danvir Persaud thinks he recognizes Laith Hassan, from briefly crossing paths in the law-and-lawful world. There’s no reason for a sketch artist and a lawyer to engage however, until now — that they’re both trying to get a vending machine to work.

Renata Cervantes-Müller and Úrsula Villa are both powerful women in their own right — except that they share far different ideals, and defend different people. It’s been easy to avoid one another thus far, until the elevator doors fail, locking them in.

A dentist and the state’s most prominent politician walk into a... bathroom. It’s a classic, slightly awkward, run-in. Except this time, it involves Nicholas Bergeron — and Julian Berkeley.

Jakob Cervantes-Müller is a busy man, and the things keeping him busy aren’t the kindest. For prevention (and future endeavors), he needs a lawyer — and he’s heard Adam Starke is one of the best. What a coincidence, that their drinks just got mixed up at the bar.

Constance Romero, the Cartel’s informant manager, is always on the lookout for future contacts. Like some other select people, she’d heard of Lev Movska’s defection from The Brotherhood — and hell if she isn’t going to try and get all of that knowledge into archive for them. The enemy of my enemy, as they say.

With too much rum in their system, Lola Villarin and Diego Romero end up wandering — testing every other room for unlocked doors. Eventually, they make it into a suite; it’s all fun and games, until the lock won’t allow them back out.

Hazel Arthur and Ryan Fitzgerald barely look at each other, when touching up their make-up in the lobby’s bathroom. But they have to acknowledge each other’s presence when they realize they’re locked in — and Hazel hasn’t heard back from her partner in far too long.

They’d both had the same idea — the hotel’s fire escape as the perfect spot for a smoke break. Hans Starke and Zuleika Sandoval are now forced to share the space (that both claim to have found first).

Bob Bekker and Aera Paek, different positions at different publications. One man with success in his horizon, and a woman who can grant anyone it. It’s a throw-away conversation until the words fact checker come to rise. The best paper, after all, is the most accurate one — would this man do her the favor of failing, in exchange for a brighter future?

Araceli Aguilar suddenly stops Heather Hyeon Seo in the middle of the lobby, with an unwarranted prediction of her future. Even if Heather doesn’t believe in it, it’s intriguing enough that she must hear more.

Rahi Kumar is well known for his love of the sky, preferring to gaze upwards towards the heavens; it is this exact preference, that sends him careening into Andel Kenza, who scurries away from a main party room, clutching what appears to be an empty bottle of rum, a strange substance congealed on its base. The pair stare at another another - a stalemate. 

Erin Katz was never a woman to wait for opportunity to simply knock on her door - she prefers to kick it in herself, a stiletto crashing through wooden panels. JJ Baptiste is a man who can make or break you in this city, and with the intriguing wallet she’s just found on the floor, she thinks she’s got enough leverage to earn his ear as he lords over a table in the back of the bar.

Moon Subin is currently scouting the media world, looking for new voices to either support his agenda in the press — or to simply gain insight. It’s unclear which Maureen Keaton could be, yet... but it’s worth a try.

FINAL NOTES

1 — If by any chance your pairing partner, or your challenge partner doesn’t get back to you — please contact the main page and we will rearrange things so that you may still write it! No one will be left without some event fun, we promise.

2 — If you’ve missed the window to volunteer your character for conflict, or you have joined recently and didn’t know about it, you can shoot the main page a message and we will do our very best to include you into the action. Only main page messages, please — as Discord will be hard to keep track of.

3 — As always, the admins are only a message away should you have any questions.

Part 2 interactions are now open. Have fun!

[soft-glitch]

Where the breeze leads us

Chapter 4: Legacy

Word count: about 1100 words

Author’s notes: this is a series of tiny one-shots taking place in the Sonic future AU described in my fic How You Look In The Wind.  You might want to read a bit of it first! There might not be a strict chronology to these events, so some of them are up to interpretation. Enjoy the read!

- - - - -

It really was amazing in its own way, Espio thought. Despite being one of the most famous investigation agencies on Mobius, the Chaotix were permanently on the verge of being broke.

Granted, it wasn’t that bad. They lived in a nice house with everything they needed, and never really had to cut budget on food or basic necessities. But most mobians expected the team to be extremely successful and loaded with money.

First, every other case was offered at an absurdly low rate. The crocodile simply couldn’t resist to the idea of helping people, no matter the size of their bank account.

Second, the Chaotix had become a well know name among charities. There had always been a widespread need for relief on Mobius, due to the destruction caused by Ivo Robotnik and his clique. Fortunately most mobians were generous and valued solidarity, but the agency always found many fundraisers to participate in.

Espio didn’t mind for the most part. But this was a special occasion, for Chaos’ sake.

“Aren’t we supposed to have like, savings?” Charmy asked cautiously, looking up from the plants he was watering. “Yes, but the key words here are supposed to.” the chameleon replied with a glare towards Vector. “Why I still let you handle the budget is beyond my understanding. – C’m’on, it’s usually not bad!” the large mobian said. “I just forgot ya needed this much for today.”

Espio sighed and closed the laptop. The costume was already being made, so there was no choice but to pay one way or another. If the tailor could accept to delay the payment by a month, it would be feasible, but…

“Why don’t you borrow from someone?” the bee offered. “I’m pretty sure Amy or Rouge would understand, and they’re— – Absolutely not. – You’re dumb.” Charmy shrugged. “They’re friends, they would be happy to help with this and you know it. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime situation.”

With a pained expression, the purple reptile got up and rubbed his temples, not sharing a word for a whole minute. Vector eyed Charmy, slightly perplexed.

“Alright. Yes. I guess you’re right.” Espio then turned towards his associate. ”Vec, I expect you to handle our finances better next month. It’s one thing to have a debt with the tailor, it’s another to fail to honour one with a friend.”

Vector nodded almost ashamedly as the chameleon grabbed his phone and went outside.

- - - - -

A surprising amount of people was gathered at the ceremony. Espio had expected most of them to show up, like Sonic and Tails, who were among Knuckles’ oldest friends. Some others were… an interesting surprise. Everyone knew Scourge was in some kind of rehabilitation retreat with Mighty and followed him everywhere, but to see him attend this important event felt odd to say the least.

As he was observing the armadillo and his green apprentice, a not-so-discreet gesture of affection made the Espio raise a brow.

Huh. So these two are… Shaking his head, the chameleon tried to focus. The sun was just about to set, and he had an important role to play.

The chatter from the small crowd circling the altar faded as the daylight shifted to coral and fiery rose. A dingo and a jaguar started playing instruments, a grave yet somehow uplifting melody slowly filling the air. All stares focused on the Emerald altar, on which two figures took place.

One was Knuckles, wearing a gold and white robe intricately decorated with a snake motif. The current guardian, with his solemn pose and ceremonial outfit, almost seemed like another person altogether. His expression, showing an unreadable seriousness to most, was in fact tinted by pride and emotion.

Espio tried —and failed— to avoid glancing too much at the echidna. The sunset light worked together with the elegant flowing costume, highlighting his fiery red spikes in a way that left the chameleon slightly dazzled.

The second person was a young wombat, her face slightly hidden by a humble cloak. Her stare was one Espio had seen many times from Cream or Charmy: slightly intimidated yet resolute. Eyes blessed with the spark of youthful optimism and the willpower needed to change the world for the better.

The chameleon smiled as the music stopped. Knuckles’ successor was fit for the task.

“The sun descends and stars appear in our skies, as old as the stones our feet step on. They remember this world and so do we.” the red echidna started. “Tonight our hearts are bright and will sing a new song, so that the Chaos may listen and make our will known.”

Espio exchanged the slightest look with his partner, a glimpse of a supporting smile escaping onto his lips. Knuckles nodded imperceptibly before continuing his speech.

The ceremony was solemn, and the crowd attending it kept silent all along. It was, after all, the beginning of an end. Everyone witnessing it was acknowledging the approaching end of the echidna clan, its last member having decided to pass his knowledge to an apprentice.

Time came for the last part of the ritual, and Espio stepped closer. He knelt in front of the young wombat, who bowed down respectfully. “We are now into the night of your duties, Helik the Wombat.” Knuckles said, his voice now trembling slightly with emotion he was unable to hide. “Find knowledge and wisdom as the stars travel along you, so you may emerge from the horizon with newfound brilliance.”

He then turned towards his purple friend. “If I ever fail our duties, or if fate separates us, I entrust my power to Espio the Chameleon. He is now a beacon in the dark, one you shall seek in the hardest of times and trust whenever you feel lost.”

Uncovering a chaos emerald from his outfit, the echidna set it on a small stone pedestal between them. Helik, Espio and Knuckles all placed a hand on it and closed their eyes.

For a few seconds they remained silent. Then, as the Master Emerald behind them started to glow more and more, they chanted together: “The servers are the 7 Chaos. Chaos is power... Power enriched by the heart. The controllers are the ones that unify the Chaos.”

A gentle wave of energy came out of the emerald beneath their hands, echoing one from the Master Emerald. Everyone present felt their hearts filled with courage and hope, dreams of a distant past and longing for a bright future.

Helik would be the next Guardian.

With a relieved sigh, Espio looked at the crowd cheering for the trio and smiled. Knuckles’ hand was warm against his own.

[chaos-caffeinated]

Emotions can help you remember Part 2 (Sebastian Michaelis x reader)

 A/N: Part two is here, excited as always, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you so much for the comments, for the support. I did not know that I had the date set to that day, I thought it was the 19th, but oh well, it’s done. I hope this second part satisifes as the continuing part. 

Not requested

Rated: NSFT/W, 18+

~~~

Yes, I do love using Gifs that send a chill down your back, it may even help trigger some emotions for sexual purposes ding ding :)

Also extra note, Microsoft Bing Translator was used, so 1) Do not come at me for any mistakes 2) Do not start requesting stories in French please, gracias! 

Part 1: https://chaos-caffeinated.tumblr.com/post/623644027625127936/emotions-can-help-you-remember-13-sebastian-x

The moment you heard the bell when someone walked into the shop, you greeted them. While Nina was busy tailoring in the back, you were in charge with inventory; looking up you greeted the client with a smile, “Hello, welcome to- Earl of Phantomhive, it’s so good to see you again.” You perked up, setting down your quill and walking around the counter to greet him, “What brings you here today, Lord Phantomhive? I can call over Madam to prepare your tailoring.”

The earl nodded at you in acknowledgement, even replying, “There’s no need for that, Miss. (L/N). Actually I am here to ask Nina for a favor, but I need both of your presence.”

Confused, you just had to nod, “Of course, I’ll be right back.”

You head towards the back and Ciel called forward Sebastian, “Sebastian, see what you can know about her and you can decide on it.”

He nods, placing his hand over his chest and leaning forward, “Yes, my lord.” He smirked softly and stood up on point when Nina and you walked out. 

“Lord Phantomhive? You wanted to see us?” Nina asked in a confused manner, but remaining straight.

“Yes, I wanted to ask about Miss. (L/N) living at my manor for a few days. I figure you would be busy, so I wanted Miss. (L/N) to take note on what outfits-...”

While you and Nina listened, Sebastian strolled his way to your side, tapped on your shoulder softly. When you turn to glance at him, he had that same smirk he always possess on his pale face with piercing red eyes and nodded his head subtly towards the backroom, enticing you further. However, you were ready to say no to pay attention to the earl when he raised his hand to yours and pulled lightly, his grip on your fingers were light, but they guided you to the backroom you were previously in.

How he managed to get your own body to obey his silent commands were unknown. Since the last meeting, you were curious for more, you were beginning crave more of him. His comments, his words, his teasing yet professional manners were all getting to you. But you needn't him enough to go after him.

You asked in a whisper, “Sebastian, what is this about?” You asked confused, “Why does Lord Phantomhive want me to spend a few days in his manor?”

Instead of answering your questions, he added a few of his instead, “I was actually just going to ask you about this. Tell me, Miss. (L/N), how did you come about to work for Miss. Hopkins?"

Hesitant about revealing some information, you lightly shrugged, "My father works as a merchant, and I started working with him since I was 8. When I began to work, the sales increased dramatically until Madam stepped foot in the store when I was 17. She said because of my 'beauty' that she would help me obtain enough money to help my parents live a peaceful life without having to struggle. I'll occasionally have some modeling sessions with her clothing, and well...that's about it."

Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest, raising the back of his clothed forefinger to the bottom of his lip as he stood there in thought, "So I assume you asked about her teaching tailoring to do more than modeling?"

You nodded with a smile, "Yes, she has such a charisma and how joyful she is to create clothes for people is just inspiring. I would be lying if I said I didn't want to do it."

Your smile shifted into a softer one, gazing back into a memory, "It gives me the power to gift others the opportunity to feel just as good as the elite."

The corner of his lip curved slightly as he offered a deal, assuming that you would take up on it, "Then for a few days, would you grant us the wish of you appearing as the guest of honor in the incoming ball?"

"A guest of honor in a ball? That means a lot Sebastian and I thank you, but...why?"

"My young master is going to host a party in celebration of the successful partnership with the Northern countries. It's because of you that it managed to be so." He charmed his close-eyed smile, "It would be an honor to have your presence. It would definitely be if I got to see you once more." His tone slightly shifted into his sultry one. Even his eyes radiated something, but you couldn't pinpoint what it was.

You felt a small chill down your spine, barely noticeable in his eyes, but you kept pressing, "But me? I didn't do anything but provide a suit for the lord. It's a material for many, so surely it can't be because of that."

He was taken aback from the response, he thought you would be greedy like everybody else, but you had common sense in you. Questioning, acquiring the knowledge needed. It surprised him to see that in you.

"Being the guest of honor grants you the opportunity to meet with many patrons, with future clients for Miss. Hopkins and yourself. You said you wanted to help your parents, your success here in meeting with the guests can aid in your dream at a faster pace."

When he saw your eyes widen slightly in realization, he felt the ease of getting to you was accomplished. He was ordered to get you on board with the invitation, tell his master about your history which cleared out. Because you were a noble woman, you wouldn't back out from an opportunity to help the ones you treasured. With that he had you in his grip, a step closer to not only his master's wish to use her in his plan to trap a murderer amongst the noblemen the Queen ordered to get rid of, but also his desire. He had grown to lust, to search for a simple toy whilst in contract, yet here he was obtaining the information for his selfish wants as well.

"...So Lord Phantomhive is asking Madam for permission so that I stay with you until the ball?..." Your voice trembled with nervousness as you were hit with a dilemma. You wanted to quit the modeling, having the eyes of other people made you feel uncomfortable. You tried so hard that you even asked Madam about teaching you how to tailor, but the man in front of you- the mysterious man- was giving you an opportunity to reach higher by just attending a formal event.

"Yes, at the moment they are. In the meantime, we can discuss about further responsibilities to avoid any problems."

"Well I'm sure Lord Phantomhive can help me on that then-" You were about to walk out when you see his arm place outward in front of you, his hand placed on the wall.

You stopped immediately, looking at his arm before you saw him at your peripheral.

Sebastian leaned his face forward, quiet as he stared at your reaction with his eyes half-lid and his lips pulled into a smug smirk.

“Miss. (L/N), you will be a great addition in our current situation. Having you on board can prove a good time for you as well. My master may be distracted with business partners, but his servants will be in alert if there is any discomfort. If you ever need me -in any case- I will be there in a second.” The hand beside your head guided towards your chin, softly grabbing with his forefinger resting underneath it, and his thumb gently pressing against your lips, "Like I mentioned before, it would be a great honor for me if you attended..." and he leaned closer and closer to your lips.

Your eyes widen as your cheeks darken with a pink/red hue, and you moved your head aside from his hand and face getting closer. You wondered what he was doing, you wondered if you genuinely had that affect on him, but you had to stay alert.

Upon this, Sebastian was surprised as well, smirking softly and closing his eyes before backing away completely. She was smart, and she was indeed unlike other girls who would take up on the opportunity.

“A-A-and this is because... because of my ‘beauty’?... That’s the qualification?” You closed your eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of your nose before completely turning to the man ahead of you. If it weren’t for this, you would be blushing as you see him nearly hovering over you. His eyes seemed much darker, his bangs nearly coverng them, “It would be a brilliant way to cast your beauty, and if the compensation is not enough -or interest- we can arrange that in a meeting. I’m sure anything you ask for can be arranged, I assure you as such. It can be for Miss. Hopkins as well.” He smirked softly. 

You thought for a moment, sighing softly in reluctance, “You’re very convincing, but is my presence alone the only thing needed for this event?”

Sebastian stood back, his arms crossed in a soft manner while he brought one hand up to his chin, rubbing softly, “There is one thing. We may need you to speak in fluent French, many guests there prefer to speak French for an unknown reason.” 

“Wait- I-I don’t know French.” you added to which Sebastian stare at you with a semi-surprised expression, “You don’t? Well I assumed that because you worked under Miss Hopkins she would have taught you-”

You shook your head in response, “She always speaks English to me unless they are simple phrases like, ‘Bonjour, Comment-’ ... uhm...vas-tchu?” You were already messing up your pronounciation to which the butler simply stared at you with the best attempt of sympathizing. 

Letting out a breath, he shook his head, “Well, it can’t be helped.” Then he smiled small, “I can provide the help needed to ensure that you do speak fluent French. You can even surprise Miss. Hopkins and avoid any language barriers within.” He offered a warm smile which you reciprocated, “Alright, wait you are going to be teaching me?” you askeed confused.

“Yes, I will.” He nodded, his smile shifting into a prideful one, almost like he was giddy to show off his ability to speak French.

“But you don’t sound like Madam at all.” You bluntly stated as you acknowledged the lack of accent.

What came out of his mouth surprised you nonetheless: “Un humain en particulier que vous devez avoir remarqué de tels détails, mais attendu de la benficiaire de Nina. Ce sera amusant à coup sûr, car je vais m’assurer de vous donner autant que l’attention, mon petit chaton.”

The way he suddenly showed you up with this second language made you not only blush, but sense a chill. His voice enunciating each syllable with ease like it was his native language made your heart flutter. You almost prefer him talking that way from now on, but you were not only blinded, but deaf of his subtle approaches. 

“...So you do speak french.” You confirmed, speechless from the action.

Smiling with his eyes closed, a confident, yet playful smile, he responded, “Why yes, a Phantomhive butler who can’t do this much isn’t worth his salt, I would have high hopes for your success in learning a new, wonderful language, but I know all my students are succesful when it comes to speaking French.”

When he said that, you couldn’t help but ask, “You taught Lord Phantomhive French? A butler?” You asked curiously as you tilted your head to the side a bit.

Smirking smugly, he replied, “I’m not just a mere butler, my lady. I’m simply one hell of a butler.”

A series of chills traveled down your spine as his eyes darken and his smirk remained, catching a glimpse of his whites, a sharp canine tooth showing itself. With his response, you felt pulled towards him, now a sense of being with him getting stronger. INstead of replying, you simply turned to walk to the main room witha  soft blush across your cheeks as Nina was going to tell you with excitement to participate in the ball. Sebastian, on the other hand, had a soft smile on his face, his features no longer had his previous intent. He had gone back to his façade butler character as he hid the fact that he was soon going to take fully advntage of you when you two enter the  manor. 

~~

Currently sitting in front of the earl in the carriage, you simply remained staring at his boots out of respect.

“As much as I respect your manners, Miss. (L/N), I’m sure your neck is sore, please just look up.” He commented, his arms were crossed as he crossed one leg over the other. 

Just like he guessed, your neck was slightly strained from keeping it at a certain angle for a long time, “I’m sorry my lord, I just don’t want to offend you any way.” You responded with honesty as he focus went from the outside fields to your face, “I appreciate that, but you don’t have to worry about that. You are a guest of honor, please do relax.” He smirked lightly, his left blue eye glinting softly, “I’m sure Sebastian explained why we needed you?”

You nodded, “Yes, my lord. A guest honor to your incoming ball?”

He nods in response, “Yes, but in addition you will be further aiding in providing extra clients for Miss. Hopkins which can help your experience with tailoring as well.”

“Yes, but if I may ask, my lord...why go that far for me to be a guest honor when I'm simply a tailor?...”

“Good question, Sebastian commented that since very little people are aware of you, it would be a great way to expand the opportunities from a wider stance. You have skills, you are smart, you need a lot more practice and how when clients occur weekly or monthly. And please, start calling me Ciel, it would be more appropiate."

“Ciel...” You pronounced it, testing it, “It’s a beautiful name.” You complimented, watching as he hesitated a smile, “Thank you.”

“However, if I have to call you Ciel, you can just call me (Y/N).” you smiled warmly.

Now he smiled small, his weight shifting underneath, “(Y/N), it’s a beautiful name.” 

Ciel smiled softly before traveling over at the window to watch the scenary while recalling some events.

~

Sebastian knocked on the door only for Ciel to respond, "Come in."

Opening the door, Sebastian walked in and closed the door. He strolled over in front of the mahogany desk and reached out his arm, "A letter from the Queen, my lord." He gazed downwards.

Ciel was writing on a paper when he sat up, placed down the quill and took the letter. Opening it and silently reading it indifferently by himself, he hummed afterwards, "Seems we have a rotten apple in our bunch." He commented and set down the letter to focus on his dessert Sebastian brought earlier.

"Indeed, if it remains there, the others will rotten as well." Sebastian smirked, "What's your plan, my lord?"

"The murderer seems to appear in the parties, so he is invited." He sighed, "Honestly, if I have to create a party here just to catch it then it would be annoying since I have so much work to do." He chewed on his dessert when Sebastian spoke up.

"It's unfortunate we can't perform the ‘Robin’ again." He smiled smugly as Ciel choked on the last piece, blushing hard as he looked at him with an angry expression, "Shut up! I forbid you to ever speak of that event! That was utterly embarrassing, you know it."

Sebastian raised his hand to cover his mouth, "Really, I thought you were a splendid lady." He teased with a taunting tone as he chuckled into it.

Ciel felt a chill down his back as he was enraged with the teasing demon, "I said shut up!" He huffed into his chair, "Anyways..." He raised a fist to cough lightly in an attempt to brush it off, "We may have to use a decoy to this party, someone rarely anybody knows of."

Sebastian nods subtly, "Yes, I agree. What about Miss. (L/N)? I do believe she would fit the qualifications to be a decoy in the trap."

Ciel picked up the letter and read it again, "She does seem to fit the profile the murderer selects his victims from." He sighs, "Very well-..." He view the letter once more before becoming bewildered.

"Something the matter, my lord?"

"...Fluency in French. For some reason the murderer likes girls who speak french." Ciel commented in an irritant tone, "Does Miss. (L/N) even speak french?"

Sebastian pondered on it, rubbing his chin softly with his finger, "I'm uncertain about that. Judging by her accent, no, but you don't have an accent either despite being bilingual as well. How about we trick her into being a guest of honor, but not disclosing that with that with the guests?"

He sighed as he placed down the letter, "Fine by me, just don’t mention anything to her about the case.” He raised the cup up to his lips and sipped on the tea. 

Sebastian’s cornered lips perked up as he placed his hand over his chest and leaned forward, “Yes, my lord.”

Ciel glanced at the demon ahead of him and pondered what true intentions he had with the lady at the tailor shop. Of all the other women laying around, the name that came out of his mouth belonged to you, it was a recent visit too. Nonetheless, he just wanted the case solved.  

~

When the carriage stopped in front of the mansion, Sebastian opened the door with his head bowed slightly, “We’ve arrived, my lord.”

After Ciel walked out, you followed, admiring the manison. 

You were hopeful that you were going to have fun being with these two without realizing you were going to risk you own life as well. 

[shinebrite97]

Part 3

Read Part 2 here      

  Her phone had seen no action since her message to Lucifer, and with no little check mark to indicate he’d seen it, she figured he was still up to his eyeballs in papers and backlogged work.          Now her phone sat beside a fancy little appetizer plate along with too many forks and spoons, hidden behind a basket of steaming rolls between the two of them.          A quick dinner at Ristorante 6?

        Her mind was racing, taking in the sites of well-dressed demons giving her judgmental looks as Diavolo simply smiled and buttered a roll.          “So,” She said. “It's been some time since we’ve spoken...hasn’t it?” She asked.          “You’re absolutely right, Yuri,” He replied. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve spent time with you at all since you returned.” He glanced up, golden eyes boring into her from across the table as he busied himself unbuttoning the long sleeves of his uniform. “Tell me, how are you settling in as a returning student?”          “I...it’s been…” She trailed off, wondering how to respond. “I’m enjoying myself.”  When he didn’t say anything more, she shifted awkwardly in the chair. Its back was too high, the velvet cushion too firm, the space between her and the table suddenly felt very restricting.         "Um…" Yuri bit her lip, considering all the things she could gush about. The food, the people, the things she was learning. "I don't know…" she replied. "I'm just...happier here." She turned her head, stifling some comment about Stockholm Syndrome, and looked back when Diavolo opened his mouth. He closed it again, and her eyes flitted down, seeing him grip a golden soup spoon.          "Are you and Lucifer expecting another paper from me at the end of term?"          Diavolo laughed.         "No," he said. "No. I just wanted to know."          "Okay," she replied. "But I know you didn't bring me to this beautiful restaurant to ask about my stay."          "No, I suppose I didn't." His words ended in a trill, almost as if he was waiting for her to make the next move, but with a distinct lack of details as to why she was here, she bowed her head, letting the awkward silence fill in, hoping this chair would come to life and devour her.          “I’m not really sure how much help I’ll be for anything, to be honest.” She said. “I’m flattered, but…”         “Yuri, I need you to marry me.”         Dead air. That's what came of her parted lips. She hadn't even closed her mouth when Diavolo processed his words. He shook his head, feeling a bright burn in his cheeks as he cleared his throat.         "I could have said that better," he said.          "Sir?* She asked.          "I can explain," he said. "You are aware that I am the next in line for the throne, correct?"         "Yes."         "I have been raised for this position for thousands of years, and I've always done as instructed, learned all there is to learn, and the powers that be have decided that I'm ready."         "That's amazing!" Yuri replied with a big grin. "Congratulations Lord Diavolo!"          "Thank you," his smile took up the majority of his face, a bright beam that overtook the single candle at their table, and Yuri blushed.         I'd give anything to see that smile…         "However," he added. "There is one condition I seemed to have overlooked in all this, a requirement of ascension is to have a partner, one who can ensure the successful production of an heir."          "That's...awfully practical." Yuri replied. "And you're asking me to...take that spot?"         "I am," he murmured. "Now I'm not asking you out of convenience. I am asking because you have become a trusted friend, and because...well...you are the only woman who isn't afraid to be seen with me. The only person, aside from Lucifer and Barbatos, who will speak to me...who isn't afraid of me."         "Dia…" she whispered. The turn of his lips at her response made the pit of her belly burn. It was something so guarded, an attempt at hubris that didn't quite reach his eyes. Eyes that glimmered with tears in the flickering light of their table's candle. She saw his knuckles clenched above the table, fingers wrapped around the soup spoon, and without thinking, she felt his warm skin under her hand. Smooth as marble, strong and still. He barely noticed at first, but once he did, he cleared his throat and averted his eyes, but very pointedly did not move his hand away.         "Basically," he said. "I need your help with the ceremonial side for things. My coronation with take place during my wedding, and if you accept...it would also be your coronation...and wedding."          "Coronation?" She asked.         "Yes…" he said quietly. "Even at the lowest level of royalty, it would  involve changing your title, you would become Lady Diavolo, and I would become King...you would take on the responsibility I currently possess, and...well, the rest of the logistics could be decided later."          "I see…"         "Now I will not force you to agree, I will not hold you against your will, I am simply asking you...because...well to be perfectly honesty with you, Yrui...there isn't another lady I would want to ask.'         "Diavolo?" she asked.         "Not to mention, Barbatos told me. I asked him to look into the futures, the realities where this takes place, and I either forfeit the crown, or I live in a loveless arrangement with some other demon nobility, or I ask you...and he swore we were happy."          "Wow…"         "Is this too much?" He asked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…."         "Here you are," a raspy voice broke off his apology as the horned waiter set down plates at the table for them.          Carved Shadow Hog was the only food item on the plates that Yuri recognized having enjoyed it with the brothers before. However the cup holding an odd-looking relish had bits resembling pineapple. Diavolo smiled in thanks as he lifted his fork.          "It looks delicious," Yuri said carefully. The waiter bowed his head before slithering away to the next table and Yuri picked up her fork, first going for the medley of steamed bitter vegetables.         She learned early on not to judge meals by name or appearance, because the one she feared most, the Quetzalcoatl brains had ended up becoming a comfort food for her. She recognized the prickly cucumber and the odd little root vegetable, one that Asmo seemed to favor, always saying that it was good for reducing puffy skin under one's eyes.          Diavolo paused his words long enough to take a bite of his shadow hog topped with the pineapple relish, though the second his mouth closed, he frowned, lips pursing and mouth scrunching as his eyes squinted into slits. He chewed hard, quickly swallowing and shuddering before taking a longer-than-necessary sip of red wine.          "Is everything okay, sir?" She asked.          He nodded, using the napkin to wipe his top lip.          "There are...pickles...in the pineapple relish." He grumbled.         She laughed. A loud sound that traveled through the dining room and left her quickly covering her mouth in embarrassment         "Oh, I see…" she smirked, hiding a giggle behind her napkin as she dabbed at her lips. Fondly, she remembered their conversations, the first time Diavolo ever confessed his hatred for pickles, and the time Barbatos and Lucifer devised a plan to slowly incorporate them into his meals. He'd been weary of any food prepared by them for months following the incident.          "You like pickles, don't you, Yuri?" He asked.         "I do, in fact." She replied. He smiled politely, using just his thumb and index finger to hastily pick up the small glass bowl and placed it gingerly on her plate.          "For you, my dear." he said softly.         Yuri giggled, accepting it and placing it beside her own. After a quick sample of it with the tip of her fork, she beamed.          "This is delicious!" She said.         "Ah the perks of partnership…" Diavolo mused. "One to enjoy the foods you do not."         "If I accept this deal," she said. "I know there is more than just a title and a dress. What are the things I will be learning?"         "Good question! I'll admit even I hadn't thought that part all the way through yet," he blushed. "You would require at least a crash course of everything I learned growing up... considering I have six thousand years of knowledge...and you only have two months to learn everything…"         "I'm sorry," she interrupted. "Two months?"          He had the decency to look stricken as he took in her response.         "Yes…" he said. "I know that is hardly any time, and I wished I had more time to offer you," His fingertips drummed against the surface of the table as he willed himself to he devoured into the chair behind him now. "I, myself, only found out about all of this today."         "I see…" she replied.         "Well, I think I have said everything I can on this topic, and I believe my last method of persuasion is simply begging on my knees, but I do hope you wouldn't have me do that here."          Yuri blushed at the idea, waving away the mental image and nodded.         "If I may...do I have time?" She asked. "At least tonight...just to think about it?"          "It is only right to grant you that," he said. "Very well. Once we finish our meal I will walk you back to The House of Lamentation."          "Thank you." She smiled.          

         Yuri was surprised at how nice it was to spend time with Diavolo alone. It was a thought that at one point intimidated her, but now more than ever she realized just how lonely the young demon prince was.          Their dinner conversation often shifted quickly, and once she used her DDD to find a Devilgram post he told her about, she finally saw the list of comments under each post.         Under one of Mammon and Leviathan, Diavolo had commented "That looks like fun!"          Under one of Asmodeus with shopping bags. "How wonderful!"         A post from Simeon where Luke seemed to be nudging Solomon out of the Purgatory Hall Kitchen. "Come have tea sometime!"

I'd like to join next time! Hope you enjoyed yourself! We should get together!

        Listening to him animatedly discuss things regarding those around him, all as heresay, made her realize how little he was in on others' lives.          He needed someone. A social buffer, the small cute thing that made him seem more approachable.          He needed a friend who appreciated him as much as he appreciated other.         He needed a partner.         And he'd asked her to be just that.         After dinner, and a bill he didn't even let her look at, he kept his word and walked with her right up to the gate, a quick goodbye and a quicker tight hug, and he watched as she walked up the steps and used her key to open the door.          I'll do it. 

[sepublic]

Belos’ Deterioration

           Honestly I’m VERY fascinated by the implications of this fanart by @thedemondeity. Coupled with how Belos seems to have a rather deteriorated state to him, the implications of his connection to the Titan, and his unusual form of Magic… I’m going to go ahead and summarize my thesis here; I think Belos’ own body could lowkey be a magical construct similar to an Abomination, one that he regularly uses up to fuel his hybrid glyph-bile magic, while relying on the magical bile of others to constantly uphold and replace his used-up flesh. Belos was once flesh and bone; But after using up his entire body to fuel his magic, he’s become a Theseus Ship paradox, having more or less grown a new body made from magic that is constantly being used up and replenished, and is thus not all that tangible, cohesive, nor natural.

           To start, let’s go with the idea that Belos doesn’t have a magical bile sac. Either it’s because he’s a human, a witch with a disability, and/or some other third party, I’m not sure; But regardless, the results are the same. What if to get around his inability to perform bile-magic, Belos learned glyphs from none other than the Titan itself, just like Luz is doing! Though I imagine his lessons with the Titan were a lot more straight-forward and face-to-face than Luz’s, especially since Belos may be having an adverse effect on the Titan in the present; Even so…

           I’ve speculated and analyzed in the past on how magic works, and generally seeming, this show seems to take cues from Equivalent Exchange from Fullmetal Alchemist (which Luz would be a fan of according to Dana Terrace herself); To get magic, you need to sacrifice a ‘fuel’ source in return. When it comes to glyphs, this is usually pieces of paper and whatever medium they’re drawn on, and possibly the very magic/nature of the Boiling Isles itself. I imagine even air would serve as a useful fuel for a Fire Glyph; Different materials resonate more with different spells, essentially. An Ice Glyph carved into the snow could be much more potent than another Ice Glyph of the same size, but drawn on a piece of paper. The efficiency and strength of glyphs could also be reliant on a witch’s intimate knowledge and study of them…

           Regardless, not all fuel sources are created equal, it seems- Magic Bile seems to be a far more efficient, readily-available source of energy to create spells from, and it was early Witches who realized the usage of their bile sacs that spawned the current, bile-based magic that spawns glowing circles from thin air, that we see today. It’s magic coming more from the user’s body, than the surrounding nature itself; I could see some stuck-up snobs dismissing Glyphs as being weak and ‘dependent’ on the Boiling Isles, while bile-based users are more ‘independent’ and draw actual strength from themselves… Essentially, it’s a bunch of dumb, ableist rhetoric.

           If Belos lacked a magical bile sac, and serves as a parallel to Luz –who has a disability metaphor going on in her relationship with magic- then what if he was someone who grew up in that sort of elitist environment? Told that glyphs were lesser, that Witches who took advantage of their bile sacs were the future; And all others were to be left behind in the dust. It’d be an environment talking about hierarchy, about how there are those who are born with a literal, innate inclination towards magic moreso than others; And that THOSE witches are naturally more powerful and superior to the rest.

           After all, it’s worth noting that there seems to be various residents and denizens on the Boiling Isles that can’t cast bile-magic; But what about glyphs? Glyphs aren’t reliant on one’s body whatsoever. Going off-topic, but what if the abelist shift in attitudes towards bile-magic as being the only acceptable form, was in-part done to oppress those beings without bile sacs? I imagine that having access to magic grants you more opportunities; So what if an artificial hierarchy was enforced to set bile-users above those who only had access to just glyphs? And with the discouragement of glyphs, amidst the move towards more efficient bile-circles… It could’ve contributed towards society forgetting about glyphs; And thus resulting in a large number of the population unable to cast spells because they don’t know about glyphs, and thus set at a disadvantage while those with bile sacs have more opportunities.

           Given what this show has to say about artificial hierarchies, ableism, lower-class people having less access to educational opportunities, etc…. I think it’d be an interesting concept. And that gets us back to Belos- As someone who can’t cast bile magic, because he lacks a bile sac. As someone who may have been raised in an ableist environment that derided his usage of glyphs, or at least made it feel inadequate compared to bile-magic, which seemed to be embraced as much more efficient. Perhaps Belos didn’t start off knowng glyphs, perhaps this was after they were forgotten, and THEN he met the Titan and learned; But I can see Belos being mocked for his usage of glyphs. I could see the current power structure even seeing his glyphs as a threat that could upturn the hierarchy by giving magical access to those without bile sacs; And that could’ve made Belos become demonized alongside his glyphs.

           And/or, Belos recognized that some forms of matter served as better fuel for Glyphs, than others… If Bile was the ideal fuel for Magic, what of the body itself? Getting into some Body Horror territory and speculation here (which is to be expected when Belos is the subject here), what if Belos carved/tattooed glyphs across his body? We’ve all discussed about what would happen if a glyph was drawn on oneself and activated- Would this take a physical toll on oneself? In this scenario, I imagine that it would- Though through this knowledge of Glyphs, Belos didn’t immediately sacrifice an entire limb nor a chunk of skin; Instead, he distributed the loss across his entire body, losing nutrients and cells here or there, instead of having all of the damage concentrated wherever the glyph was located.

           Why would Belos do this, if he could just rely on his surroundings as a fuel source? Amidst the potential ableist rhetoric I’ve speculated about; Perhaps one’s flesh and nutrients, used to sustain one’s very own life, serves as an even more potent source of magic than your typical dirt, paper, wood, etc. It’s not as good as magical bile; But it serves as an adequate substitute, and is more easily applied across all glyphs, providing stronger spells than typical nature. Given Belos’ parasitic, downright cannibalistic motifs… I wouldn’t be shocked if he sacrificed a few people in the past for his own spells, before turning his glyphs unto himself and using his own body as a reliable, ‘independent’ source of energy.

           One or two glyphs here or there, which take nutrients and flesh across the entire body instead of from a single concentrated spot; It can be a bit draining, but not too life-threatening, right? You can just recover by having a good meal and rest… But if you’re Belos, who is possibly power-hungry, or up against adversaries? You need to be casting a LOT of spells, in rapid succession; And quickly the damage and toll on your body begins to add up, until your flesh becomes necrotic and you decay, feeling the starvation of your glyphs. It’s not enough to just eat normal food to replenish and heal your wounds, now; You need something a little bit more potent…

           And so- Belos turns to Magical Bile. His body doesn’t have the ability to directly convert it into magic, he lacks the sac and proper physiology; But he CAN cast magic in a more indirect sense. Belos began consuming the bile of others, usually palismans, to enhance his recovery and growth, as his body began to heal; Magical Bile could be incredibly nutritious, after all. And from this replenished flesh, Belos then sacrifices it to continue casting spells, before restocking on magical bile, etc. It’s like his own body is a coffee filter, an incredibly worn-out rag that is the process for his very unorthodox way of casting magic; A damaging process, but one he stubbornly sticks towards. Because unlike his counterpart Luz, he never truly learned to accept magic that was different in a way that specifically accommodated him; Belos still wanted to cast magic the way other witches normally did.

           Perhaps he transplanted a magical bile sac at some point, or took advantage of a potential connection to the Titan. Either way, as Belos rose to power; I can see him having a trusted ally, such as Kikimora and/or the Healing Coven Head, cast Healing Magic to help feed his recovering, collapsing body. But alas, Belos’ condition is a unique one cast upon himself; And the consumption of magical bile, combined with the clumsy application of Healing spells towards his own injuries, and… Let’s just say that his cellular growth was accelerated to a point where it was no longer beneficial. To a point where it just left Belos with MORE flesh and cells, and thus an even hungrier appetite… What I’m saying is, Belos basically gave himself magical cancer and tumors in his attempts to heal and replenish from all of the body-matter he sacrificed for his spells.

           So you’ve got a body that’s constantly decaying, only to replace itself with cancerous masses of flesh and tumors; Belos’ body is beginning to warp and distort, and I can see him making alterations to himself to become more powerful. Maybe replacing limbs and organs with lab-grown ones, or even body parts stolen from others! And as Belos’ power and authority increases, he gets hungrier and hungrier; And he sates this appetite by consuming more bile, but it just leads to more cancerous tumors that demand even more of him. It’s a self-feeding, never-ending cycle, a positive feedback loop; And it results in the horrifically messed-up, deteriorated mess of a monster that we see today. No doubt so disgusting and decayed and torn-up, that Belos wears a mask and armor; Both to hide his appearance, but possibly to literally hold himself together!

           Belos’ body is constantly falling apart, being torn apart; And then reassembled at a whim. His experience with this makes it easy for Belos to literally dissolve and reform here or there; And it leads to Belos knowing intimately how to create those fleshy, veiny constructs that he attacks his enemies with. He’s a scientist and an experimenter, and Belos himself was his main test subject; And that meant he suffered the most from the trial and error of discovering how to become more powerful. Perhaps his magic manifests as spheres instead of circles, because it’s dual-natured; Relying on glyphs AND bile, amidst Belos’ own body. I’m not entirely sure where his more technological staff comes into play, if it’s merely the result of his constant experimenting and toying around, or something else; Perhaps his staff is more a conduit for himself, than a separate Palisman! Either way, his spells manifesting as a blood-red would take on a whole new meaning, considering what Belos is sacrificing to fuel them…

           It’d really recontextualize his exhaustion, his need to drain bile from palismans- And it leads to the idea that Belos doesn’t have a lot of stamina. He can summon power and spells in terrifying bursts, and his unusual nature and knowledge make him seem all the more intimidating- But in a drawn-out battle of attrition, Belos is a witch who lacks substance. Manage to survive the first few waves of attacks, get Belos to tire himself out- And one can land a quick and decisive blow, maybe even victory! Perhaps it wasn’t just Belos’ arrogance that allowed Luz to damage him…

           This of course all speculative, and almost entirely baseless- But it’s definitely a fun ‘fuel’ for thought! I’m mostly just enamored with Belos as someone who has this impermanent presence, and as a potential parallel to Luz- And what this could entail, amidst his unusual form of magic and Belos’ obvious body horror at play here. If so much of his current body and flesh has been replaced with new cells, spawned more from magical bile and Healing Spells than anything tangible like food or water; Perhaps it’s a Theseus Ship paradox. Where so much of Belos’ current body comes from a magical source… And as a result, it’s not very tangible. Regular glyph-spells retain their form when attacked by a Greater Basilisk; But bile-based magic seems to be reduced back to its base components, or at least into a digestible one for these creatures.

           If a Greater Basilisk were to attack a tree, it’d be… A regular tree, getting torn up. But a tree spawned by the bile of a witch? I imagine that tree would almost instantly disintegrate, explaining how that one Greater Basilisk was able to so easily devour Amity’s Abomination and Willow’s plants. It all comes from magical bile, and thus lacks substance- At least compared to glyphs, which spawn their magic directly from pre-existing nature. Perhaps the Greater Basilisks weren’t just enemies to Belos’ reign, nor competitors for bile; Perhaps their unique feeding abilities served as a direct weakness to the Emperor himself. If a Greater Basilisk attacked him, perhaps Belos’ entire body would literally just dissolve, being made more of magic than actual physical substance and stuff found in nature; And this major weakness of his could’ve caused Belos to spearhead genocides against the Basilisks, under the additionally-credible pretense of protecting witches.

           And, if Belos is also constantly using glyphs, as well his connection to the Boiling Isles and the Titan itself, to sustain him? Then if he were to go to Earth, where Luz’s glyphs fell apart- The results might not be so pretty… Not that Belos is much of a looker himself, in general. He’s like an Abomination that’s constantly melting and trying to hold itself together; So Belos poured himself into the person-shaped mold that is his armor. And I suppose that’s both ironic/appropriate, given Belos’ insistence on making others conform to a specific mold within his Coven system…

[abyssal-memories-and-dreams]

Yay new tw blog! Can I ask hqs for Mallets, Leona and Vil where their girlfriend introduces them to her family? ( bonus if she has a protective dad) These are for you 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Thank you for all the support, luv! Can I just say that I absolutely LOVE this prompt, btw? Like, this was SO much fun to write! :)

Malleus, Leona, and Vil Meeting their Fem! S/O’s Family

~Malleus Draconia~

Out of all the people in this request, Malleus is probably the most accepting of your father’s skepticism towards him. I mean, he’s not exactly an easily confrontable person. That and his standing as one of the most powerful wizards in all of Twisted Wonderland may make your father believe that he has alternative reasons for your relationship.

That being said, he will nonetheless try to win your family’s favor. He vows to your father to protect you at all cost, and that no matter what happens, he will still love you for who you are.

However, your dad is not the only one suspicious of Malleus. At first, everyone in your family is intimidated by his presence.

Your mother almost has a heart attack the first time seeing him walk into your home for dinner. However, he takes his time to compliment her in order to win her favor. 

“Did you perhaps cook this meal, Mrs. (L/N)? I was wondering how to thank the chef for preparing such a wonderful dinner. Would you like any assistance in bringing these plates back to the kitchen?”

Anything would be better than Lilia’s cooking, let’s be honest here. 

Any siblings you have are the easiest to win over. Being younger and more impressionable, the only thing that they find jarring is that his horns almost touch the doorframe. However, all it takes is for him to show them a little magic trick in order for them to agree that you two are a perfect match!

The best way Malleus can try to impress them all is for him to showcase his proficiency as a wizard. Not only will this show that he is more than capable of protecting you from danger, but he could use his vast knowledge of defensive magic to create a fancy show for the entire family.

At the end of the event, most of your family agrees that he’s a good man for you. Your father might still be a bit overprotective, but it’s not as intense as it was before.

~Leona Kingscholar~

Ok, let me be honest and say that Leona is probably going to have the hardest time convincing your family that he is the one for you. You deserve better than a lazy good-for-nothing who had to stay back in school more than once! - At least, that’s what your father thinks.

But your can bet your ass that he will stop at nothing until your family approves of your relationship. When he wants something, he will stop at no ends to make sure that he’s in your family’s favor.

Just make sure to remind him to tidy up before he meets them beforehand. 

Leona shows a great amount of respect for your mother - complimenting her attire, offering to help out after dinner, etc. - in order to try and win her over first.

Having to put up with take care of Cheka has granted him the advantage of (somewhat) knowing how children act. If you have any siblings, congrats! Leona might ruffle their hair a bit or even offer to play a game with them. Just be cautious if you have any younger siblings that want to try and climb him for a piggyback ride.

Your father, though? O h b o y.  Not going to lie, seeing your father glare at him, or crudely ask him about his future, makes him remember his home life when people compared him to his own brother. He starts doubting his own relationship with you and might want to give up on appeasing your family. However, he is determined once you squeeze his hand from underneath the dinner table. No matter what, this is all for both of you, and that is what you are trying to tell him.

“Listen, Mr. (L/N), I understand that I might not be the best role model for (Y/N) to be around, but if it wasn’t for her, I would not be trying as hard as I am right now to appease you. Your daughter is an amazing woman, which is something that I believe we can both agree on. My only wish is that no matter what, you will respect her decision just as I respect her.”

After dinner, try to get him to play a game of Magift with your father to lighten the mood.

When Leona leaves, there will still be a bit of tension between him and your family. But even then, that’s still okay. He knows that it could take more than once for him to win their favor, but he will do whatever it takes to make you happy, even if it means having to suffer from your father’s wrath.

~Vil Schoenheit~

He definitely finds it annoying how overprotective your father is of you. Yes, he understands that he only wants you to be safe and secure (and trust me, he wants it, too), but it’s still annoying nonetheless.

But when it comes to winning people over, no doubt is Vil one of the best people you know to do it. He’s calm and collective throughout the entire ordeal and almost knows exactly what to say to win everyone over during dinner.

By the time the night ends, your mother might have made a new friend in Vil. Don’t lie, he’s a charismatic bastard, but make sure you make him remember that he’s your charismatic bastard. He needs to appease your dad, after all!

If you have any sisters, then Lady Luck is on your side! They might be one of Vil’s millions of followers on Magicam, so it doesn’t really take any more persuasion for them to agree on their relationship. If you have any brothers, then he might not pay him that much attention unless they also gawk at him or show respect for him.

Surprisingly, it’s easier than he thought to persuade your father that he’s the one. Yes, he does face that typical stubbornness your dad puts out, but that could easily be extinguished by Vil’s quick tongue. His future? He’s already built an empire off of his modeling career, so he can keep his (S/O) financially stable. His ability to keep his daughter safe? He vows his life to do that. Why does he love his daughter? (Please, is this a real question?)

“Mr. (L/N), I assure you that my love for (S/O) is not in vain. She’s a gorgeous woman, both inside and out. Not only has she swifted me off of my feet by her beauty, but I admire her remarkable intelligence and charisma. I could go on and on about why I think your daughter is amazing, but I don’t want the food to run cold.”

A people pleaser that he is, Vil is the most successful out of the three to win over your entire family. Despite his sometimes haughty behavior, he does everything that he can to maintain a Prince Charming-esk personality for that night.

Will also bring a present for your parents to ensure their interest in him, be it a wine bottle or a fruit basket.

[rye-views]

A Promised Land by Barack Obama. 8/10

I would recommend this book to my friends. I would reread this book.

There are certain things that Barack articulates that I’m thankful for. His over-optimism and feelings of eccentricity. I completely related to its isolating feelings even though it wasn’t the same situation and experience as mine. It’s nice to see something similar from someone different. I also liked his description of feeling everything in its entirety and how it was like a movie splice. I have felt this many times and it’s a beautiful way to describe it. I like how so much of what Barack says, thinks, and feels are so genuine and relatable. It's nice to see someone articulate and empathize this well, esp. from a man and a man in power.

I love learning that Michelle was disappointed by the situation caused by his choices at times. Other things were more important at the time and nice to see it be relevant.

It’s interesting to see the difference between this book and “Becoming.” They have different aims, but it still shows me a difference between a man and woman. I also notice that when men are described, it’s always physical. When it’s women, it’s more character and personality.

Crazy how intelligent and emotionally aware Barack is. When he stated how he couldn't just pick and choose the good things of Reverend Wright's church, I was like true and wow.

The things that Toot taught Barack is what someone should've taught me as I grew up.

Barack comparing the rides to Noah's Ark is amusing.

When he mentions translations of what the Big 4 are saying, I think about how we can't be straightforward in politics. Why not?

It took me forever to read this because I really wanted to absorb the knowledge. There's a lot of events that are covered and things I had no idea about. I love how this catalogues so much of history that were relevant to my lifetime.

Memorable Quotes: “gives even my roughest drafts too smooth a gloss and lends half-baked thoughts the mask of tidiness” “I needed to focus on only those things to come.” “Much of what I read I only dimly understood” “a bond between those who had once seemed far apart.” “Whatever it was, I knew I wasn’t ready.” “An America that could explain me.” “I suffered rejections and insults often enough to stop fearing them.” “Enthusiasm makes up for a host of deficiencies.” “Failure and want were all around you.” “It should have been enough.” “but my mother was never one to see hard work as anything but good.” “On top of my sorrow, I felt a great shame.” “There’s a physical feeling, a current of emotion that passes back and forth between you and the crowd, as if your lives and theirs are suddenly spliced together, like a movie reel, projecting backward and forward in time, and your voice creeps right up to the edge of cracking, because for an instant, you feel them deeply; you can see them whole. You’ve tapped into some collective spirit, a thing we all know and wish for – a sense of connection that overrides our differences and replaces them with a giant swell of possibility – and like all things that matter most, you know the moment is fleeting and that soon the spell will be broken.” “To be a workhorse not a show horse – that was my goal.” “I had become a mere conduit through which people might recognize the value of their own stories, their own worth, and share them with one another.” "Yes we can." “the personal really was political” “I had to listen to, and not just theorize about, what mattered to people.” “it wasn’t so much what he did as how he made you feel. Like anything was possible. Like the world was yours to remake.” “It’s hard, in retrospect, to understand why you did something stupid.” “In fact, you shouldn’t even count on my vote.” “What do you consider your place in history?” “I could take a punch. And I didn’t give up.” “I knew I could afford to be patient.” “but the only way for Daddy to disguise himself is if he has an operation to pin back his ears.” “Forgotten people and forgotten voices remained everywhere.” “the more troops would become targets of an enemy they often could not see and did not understand.” “The power to inspire is rare. Moments like this are rare. You think you may not be ready, that you’ll do it at more convenient time. But you don’t choose the time. The time chooses you.” “people were moved by emotion, not facts.” “Beneath the low-key person and deep convictions, he just plain liked the combat.” "defined not by what they are but what they can never be." "To the relief of his keepers, the bear became accustomed to captivity." "he understood better than most the complications of race, religion, and family, and how good and bad, love and hate, might be hopelessly tangled in the same heart" "She was one of those quiet heroes that we have all across America." "But I worry that my memories of that night, like so much else that's happened these past twelve years, are shaded by the images that I've seen, the footage of our family walking across the stage, the photographs of the crowds and lights and magnificent backdrops." "a keeper of values we'd once thought ordinary but had learned were more rare than we had ever imagined." ""It's going to be hard to get the public excited about food stamps and repaving roads," Axe said. "Not real sexy."" "This time I said nothing, admiring his occasional, almost endearing ability to state the obvious." "You must be under the mistaken impression that I care." "all of them unified only in their common desire to be somewhere else." "ready to die for eternal joy--or maybe just a taste of something better." "But make no mistake, it was weird." "the unspoken regrets." "my supporters lacked all conviction, while my opponents were full of passionate intensity." "Michelle was someone who started from the heart and not the head, from experience rather than abstractions." "I wanted to believe that the ability to connect was still there. My wife wasn't so sure." “The

audacity of hope.” "Sometimes your most important work involved the stuff nobody noticed." "forgotten under the accumulation of the new joys and paints that make up a life." "you learn to improvise to meet your objectives--or at least to cut your losses." "They would take for granted that their aunt was on the U.S. Supreme Court, shaping the life of a nation--as would kids across the country. Which was fine. That's what progress was like." "Did they miss the rhythms of ordinary life? Were they lonely? Did they sometimes feel a jolt in their heart and wonder how it was that they had ended up where they were?" "I reminded myself that every president felt saddled with the previous administration's choices and mistakes, that 90 percent of the job was navigating inherited problems and unanticipated crises. Only if you did that well enough, with discipline and purpose, did you get a real shot at shaping the future." "Was it possible that abstract principles and high-minded ideals were and always would be nothing more than a pretense, a palliative, a way to beat back despair, but no match for the more primal urges that really moved us, so that no matter what we said or did, history was sure to run along its predetermined course, an endless cycle of fear, hunger and conflict, dominance and weakness?" "meant to be a reminder--in a place premised on hate and intolerance--of the common humanity we share." "A man making up for things." "For war was contradiction, as was the history of America." "To be known. To be heard. To have one's unique identity recognized and seen as worthy. It was a universal human desire" "pleasures that cost nothing, belonged to no one, and were accessible to all." "I suppose, when the world slows down, your strivings get pushed to the back of your mind." "whether in my seeming calm as crises piled up, my insistence that everything would work out in the end, I was really just protecting my self--and contributing to her loneliness." "It was a lonely thought at a lonely time." "You never looked as smart as the ex-president did on the sidelines." "Get exposed to other people's truths, I thought, and attitudes change." "It wasn't often, I thought, that a true act of conscience is recognized that way." "their struggles and resentments troubling but remote." "are mere conduits for the deep, relentless currents of the times or whether we're at least partly the authors of what's to come." "contemplating the knife's edge between perceived success and potential catastrophe" "daily, unheralded acts of people who weren't seeking attention but simply knew what they were doing and did it with pride." "She makes me better as a person and better on the page."

[ask-the-crimson-king]

Warriors of the 17th Host of the Word Bearers

[Hello. Been a bit since I've posted anything art-related on here.

Please welcome half of the main cast of my Black Crusade game: The Word Bearers of the 17th Host! (The other half are the players themselves)

Some of you may recognize the names from a prior blog of mine that has kind of fell to the wayside. (Shill here @fides-regnat-aeterna because I plan to revive it soon) Yes. These are the same characters. Now with faces!

For those unacquainted, allow me to introduce them for you under the cut for the convenience of others:

Let's begin with the head of the Host:

Ans'ar has been the Apostle of the Host for millennia, being one of the few Word Bearers who even crossed the deserts with Lorgar prior to his ascension as an Astartes. He is known to be benevolent and lax with his warriors, and he is known to have stirring and persuasive sermons. Usually he will use them in order to bring more Imperials to the Truth, but sometimes he will use them on fellow Legionnaires. He has even been able to recruit warriors from other Legions as of late, and he personally turned his Coryphaus to the light of the Truth. With the death of his First Acolyte, he has since been under the watch of the 34th as they embark on their latest crusade.

Super happy with how he turned out, especially the shading of the skin. I'm trying to get better with it, and this whole piece has been great practice. Though I do wish I could make his expression a bit softer. Something to work on in future!

Gibil once belonged to the Salamanders, but was able to be converted by Ans'ar after a very shaky engagement with the XVIIth centuries ago. Gibil personally was able to kill one of his predecessors, and when he was taken prisoner, Ans'ar made sure he was treated well despite circumstances. After a few conversations, he was in, and thanks to his prowess in battle and inside knowledge of more modern Imperial tactics, he was later promoted to the rank of Coryphaus. This did make his new brothers wary and some did voice concerns about one not of the Legion attaining a rank so coveted, but Ans'ar quelled such voices after letting Gibil prove himself.

An NPC that's yet to really shine, but hopefully will be able to in coming sessions. Gibil was fun to try to draw, and I think I did decently well. I was originally going to make the little mohawk green, but decided against it since he has other ways of proclaiming his first heritage. Such as the drakescale draped over his armor.

A young, wary warrior of the 17th, Lacertes has recently begun undertaking tutelage by Merrick and Captain An-Ishkur. Through them, he is learning all he needs to become a true son of Lorgar, and a Bearer of the Word. Most recently, he has tried his hand at sermonizing with... limited success. But there is the chance for improvement. In time, anyway.

Young lad! Tiny boy that Merrick, the party Word Bearer, has since kind of adopted. He was fun to draw. Yes I am aware of the eyes, I was finishing this around like 3am and I was tired. Shusheth.

An-Ishkur is the Captain of one of the many coteries of the 17th Host, though most of the time he will be given charge of the younger warriors as he has been deemed a bit too temperamental to be with the veterans. This has changed recently, as he has been granted a chance to change that. However, he does have to look over a gaggle of misfit warriors from the other Legions to do so. Fortunately Merrick is there, so all he has to do is keep Hersyaf in line. The two had been together since their recruitment to the Legion shortly after Monarchia, for the Pilgrimage. Although they do bicker and fight, An-Ishkur still stands by him, remembering the warrior that was, and to keep him away from trouble.

These two should've been put in the picture together honestly. But An-Ishkur is fun! He was the first NPC besides Hersyaf that the party met. His hair was really fun to draw, same with his expression. Really proud of how this turned out.

Hersyaf is an oddity. Not only did something go wrong during the binding ritual that led to his ascension into the Vakrah Jal, but he has a crabby captain always yelling at him for doing what he does best. Blind and fueled by the daemon within, Hersyaf no longer can revert to his mortal form and very little remains of the soul of the warrior the daemon inhabited. He has also sometimes trailed the Master of Possession, as he seems to be treated as an object of study from time to time.

The wolf man himself. Not much has been uncovered about him yet. I will keep most a secret, for now. Also super cool to create. I loved making his teeth. I tried to make his fur all grimy with blood, but it kinda acts more as a lighting effect. Oh, well. Still looks cool.

LAST BUT NOT LEAST...

The Master of Possession of the 17th Host is another one of its many myriad oddities. Firstly, he is originally a sorcerer of the Thousand Sons. Secondly, he simply joined because of his interest in daemonology, and he seemed to be fairly amicable with Ans'ar from a shared history. Thirdly, he seems to be partially or fully responsible for what has happened to Hersyaf as of late. His practices are suspect, but he can create many different creations quite quickly and cleanly, so he's able to get the true higher-ups of the Legion off his back. Though his time may have run out in terms of the 34th, however...

A BASTARD through and through, and disliked by many. He is Magnus' arrogance made manifest. So I tried to show it in the face. for the eyes it was a tossup between blue, green, or potentially purple. Went with blue to mix things up. God this smug bastard has a punchable face. He will get punched next session by the resident Thousand Son in the party for what he did to Hersyaf. It will be quite amusing.

SO THAT IS THEM! Yes, there was a First Acolyte, and yes, he died. He was plotting against the Dark Apostle and the Legion, and was summarily executed. Said execution prompted questioning by the Dark Council, and now the 34th have been sent to keep an eye on the Host. The party is helping to throw them off and to help stave them off entirely.

But first they have to go through Marduk. Hurray.

This piece was the first true passion piece I have made in a while. Hope y'all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed making it.]

[aspenflower17]

Finding You (continuation of Part Three)

Hello everyone! I am soooo sorry I’ve been absent lately. I changed some things in Finding You, and I couldn’t write any further no matter how hard I tried. I knew exactly what I wanted to write, but it just wouldn’t come out right. That usually means I’m not writing what the story wants me to write. I also live with people who always decide they need to talk to me when I’m writing, so that certainly did not help -_-

 I finally had inspiration strike this morning as I was waiting in my car for work to start, and now my writing is flowing again. This mini update will hopefully be good enough until I can get a whole update out. Again, I apologize!

(First Part of) Part Three Link or if you want to start at the beginning (which I recommend ;) ) Link to Part One

Tags :D : @simpingforsatan, @naimena (If you want a tag when this updates, just ask in a comment below :D )

F! Mc / Satan

Word Count: 823

Warning/triggers: None this time :)

Mc sat and stared out the window. Why hadn’t he come? She had waited all day and had even made Luke bake cookies. Where was he?

“Mc, you should come down from the window.”

“But… What if he forgot what house we’re at Sim? He was in a hurry to get back.”

“Mc, I don’t think-”

A knock at the door brought Simeon’s statement to a halt. Mc’s eyes grew wide and she scrambled off the couch to make a beeline for the door. She threw the door open, “You’re back!... Oh, hi… Sorry. I thought you were someone else…”

“Oh, aren’t you adorable, just like he said you’d be. I’m assuming you’re the little angel my brother helped yesterday?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s me! Where is he? Is he behind you?” Mc asked, trying to look around the strawberry blonde demon in front of her.

“Ah, no such luck I’m afraid. Our older brother was really angry he left the park yesterday. He gave him a lot of extra chores to do, so he’s not going to be able to make it today, or probably for the rest of the week.”

“Oh…”

“Awww, you’re even cute when you’re sad! Hopefully this will make you feel better. He asked me if I could deliver this letter to you,” the demon said, extending the letter to the small angel. Mc’s eyes lit up, as she carefully opened the envelope. Inside were a couple pieces of thick parchment, creamy and almost soft to the touch. 

Hello,

Normally I would address a letter with a name, but I wasn’t able to get it yesterday, so I apologize, not the only one in this letter I’m afraid. When I got back to the park, my brother was waiting for me, and he was not amused. In an effort to “teach me a lesson” he has given me so many things to do, I probably won’t be free of them for quite awhile. I am sending you this letter in case I’m not able to see you before you leave.

I wanted to congratulate you. It’s not every day I find such stimulating conversation and from a child no less. You have a bright future ahead if you can keep that thirst for knowledge you have. I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds by including a list of novels and information sources that I found very useful during my formative years. As I have said, knowledge is power. As long as you are knowledgeable no one can dismiss you.

I hope you can remember that information as you grow up. Knowledge really is the key that opens any door, as well as who you know. Don’t pass up the opportunity to expand your social circle. Connections can get you to so many more places than knowledge alone, a lesson that took far too long for me to learn.

I will have you know this kind of thing is not normal for me. If you will grant me a moment, while I enjoy the novelty of your company, but I also feel a kinship to you I cannot explain. I also maintain I know you from somewhere, though I cannot place where. I hope you don’t mind that I asked Asmodeus, my brother, to deliver this letter. He knows more people than I do, so I was hoping that he might recognize you. 

I’m afraid I haven’t the time to make this more eloquent. I can hear my brother coming down the hallway. I would like to add one more thing. I am very sorry that you have a loneliness you can’t get rid of. Though you may not believe it, demons get lonely too, and I felt very lonely, hurt and angry for many, many years of my life. I learned how to mask my feelings and, though it took a long time, I did eventually find solace, even if it was for a short time. You shape your own life. I do hope you find a way to feel fulfilled in life and you find the cure for your loneliness. Know I will always be rooting for your success, and I do hope we can meet again and have more time to discuss anything and everything.

Seems I am out of time. Until we meet again.

S          .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“Ah, you’re back. What did you think? She’s really familiar, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Did you recognize her? Your face says you did.”

“I… I have a theory on who she might be.”

“Well, who is she?”

Asmo sighed, trying to figure out how to answer the question, “If I’m correct, I don’t want to say anything because she will be back one day.”

“And, if you’re wrong?”

“Well, that’s why I can’t tell you. Now please don’t ask me any more questions about it. I think she’ll be back to find you, so just be patient. We can talk more about it at that point.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Link to Part Four

[rokutouxei]

you are still the sun that shines for me

part 8 of atelier heart

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theo van gogh/mc | G | 3030 | [ao3 in bio]

Life couldn't get any better. You enjoy what you do here, spending your life without regrets with the person you love the most. That is, until you meet her. The woman who still loves Theo.

CHAPTER 1

maybe love stays / maybe love can’t / maybe love shouldn’t. When Love Arrives, Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye

A sight that would change the life of everyone who sees it. That was what one of the head sponsors of the gallery called the show when you and Theo finally showed them the results of months of long work. An extraordinary compliment, to say the least. Standing there under the bright lights seeing the works of your new-artists-and-also-close-friends there for the world to see… all you can do is grin in delight.

Theo can do anything.

Great with his words, even better with his actions, hardworking to a fault and with a persistence and endurance that’s extremely admirable. Then, under all that, a heart that’s molten gold, filled with nothing but love and passion. The fact that he’s so also strikingly attractive, his eyes piercing, is also bonus points on anyone’s book, for sure.

You’re so glad to be able to help him out with his dreams.

You walk around the gallery to mingle with the artists and congratulate them with the success. They throw the compliment and the gratitude back to you and Theo, and you fall back into a comfortable kind of banter. For a moment, you dream of the future: little family of artists and art dealers, standing up and rising towards a new tomorrow for art.

You turn towards where Theo is across the room, and the both of you share a smile at each other when you make eye contact. He’s currently talking to some patrons, and while you’re lucky that you’ve met a lot that aren’t as backward, there are still high-paying ones with great influence that are, at their very core, still rather misogynistic, so Theo had said he’d take over this discussion himself.

He’d asked you to enjoy the exhibit, have some of the food, ask the guests of their thoughts in his stead. (“You say that as if it’s hard—that’s the fun part!” you’d told him.)

While watching the coming and going of people, for a reason you don’t understand at that moment, you’re drawn to a particular pair of guests: a young boy, maybe in his pre-teens, fumbling awkwardly in his suit, and a woman in her late 30s, walking with him. A mother and her son, perhaps. They seem to be having a lively conversation with each other with every painting, discussing it with an intensity that probably mimics yours and Theo’s.

Perhaps they’re patrons of the arts too?

You get an odd urge to come up to them. You don’t fight it, knowing fully well you still have a job to do—again, check on the guests—so taking a sip out of the champagne you’re nursing, you approach them.

The boy steps into the next section of the gallery before you can get there. Well, you’re not really as good at kids as Theo—so that’s probably for the better.

“Bonjour, madame,” you say with a short bow. “Enjoying the exhibit?”

“Very much so, yes,” the woman says. “Are you perhaps one of the artists?”

“Oh, no, just an organizer.” The woman looks surprised, but oddly pleased—maybe she does this sort of work, too? You beam. “How are you finding it?”

“Brilliant, I have to admit,” she answers you. “The curators really had an eye for the style. Not the usual—no, near scandalous, but beautiful. Hard to take one’s eyes off the canvases.”

The two of you fall into a rather lively discussion, one topic flowing into another. What started with a rather sharp analysis of the painting you’d found her in front of (“the intimate brush strokes even at the tiniest of details really is what makes it so much more… dreamlike.” “I agree! All those little things in dreams that doesn’t seem to make sense, but make it all the more true in that moment.” “Exactly. It adds a personality to it, and with these colors—“ “These colors!”) slowly evolved into a quick back and forth about art, aesthetic, and culture. You get so into the discussion you almost don’t notice the young boy having finished his rounds at the gallery, now standing behind his mother, listening intently at the discussion.

“It’s so lovely to have someone as invested in this that’s a woman as well,” you finally comment, your champagne flute empty and your confidence soaring after an exciting conversation. “Sometimes I still get stared down when I talk to clients.”

She nods, a little sadly. “I can only imagine. I was not born of money, really, but I have a bit on me, and that’s really the only way I can get most of the influential powers to listen to what I have to say.”

“Oh?” That piques your curiosity. “Do you run a gallery or an artist workshop too, madame?”

She waves you off. “Nothing of the sort. I’d just inherited a grand array of valuable paintings—beautiful, yet, like most of these kinds of art, very much still misunderstood and looked down upon.”

“A consideration of the style, perhaps?”

“Yes, very much so,” she says. “They’re… intense, to say the least. But just because it is not understood now, doesn’t mean it will not be of importance in the future. So I’m looking forward to connecting with galleries, like this one, perhaps, and museums, bring his paintings out into the world.”

His paintings. Oh, how much like Theo. “That’s a remarkable goal.”

“Rather absurd for but a woman like me, I’d say,” she comments, a dry laugh at the end. “This wasn’t my mission, just one I have to continue. Besides, they’ll do better in galleries like this than hanging in rows in my kitchen.”

“Someone once told me the best art in the world is still hidden, waiting to be found,” you say. It was Theo who had told you that.

She nods. “For sure. And you’re doing your fair share of searching, if this exhibit is any clue.” She turns away from you for a moment, and then her eyes widen at the sight of something. You’re about to turn around to peep what it is when she turns to you abruptly. “I’m sorry, but I have someone I must talk to, so I’ll go ahead.” She turns to the boy. “Lieveling?”

“Can I stay a little longer with her, mama?” the boy asks. You’re… surprised, to say the least, considering he’s just been listening quietly the whole time.

Mama. Had you misheard that, or was that not exactly French in sound? Wait… what did she call him?

“As long as you’ll behave,” the woman says. Ah, the woman! You hadn’t even gotten to ask her name! You’re about to ask when she turns and—“I’m sorry, I’ll come back for him really quickly. You may leave him if you have somewhere else to go; he’s a big boy, he can handle himself.”

This time, with annoyance. “Mama.”

“Yes, yes.” The woman bows and starts to walk away, off into a corner where you saw the shadow of a few of the richer patrons disappear into much earlier.

Perhaps she’d recognized one of them? Maybe it’s related to the paintings she was talking about earlier—perhaps she’s about to reach out. You silently wish her good luck in your head as you turn to the boy in front of you.

Not knowing where to begin, you say: “How old are you, can I ask?”

“I just turned ten,” he says. “Being ten is great. I don’t want to be treated like a little boy anymore.”

You take note of that and straighten your back. He’d probably hate if you crouched to meet him eye to eye—not that you’d need to do much of it, considering he was pretty tall for a ten-year-old boy. “Ten is a fun age to be. Well, what does the big ten-year-old want to ask me?”

“Can you talk about the paintings a little more?” he asks, refusing to look you in the eye, looking around the exhibit pensively. “You and mama… really understood each other, and I can’t keep up with her…”

You narrow your eyebrows. So the expression you’d seen from him earlier was less of excitement, but more of… confusion? Asking questions to his mother about what he couldn’t understand, and less of enthusiasm of the artwork? “Your mama made it sound like you live in an art-filled house.”

“We do,” the boy admits. “And that’s why it’s hard. I’m ten now and sometimes I still don’t understand what she’s saying. I get it, they’re pretty, but… then what? Machines—those make more sense to me. All the art and feelings… I don’t get it. They’re like magic to me.”

A boy with a passion for art who hasn’t found his footing in it yet, the words to brace himself with, the road to walk. You used to be just like that too. This is a great way to pay it forward, you tell yourself. “Well, I’d love to talk to you about the art pieces, mon apprenti. But first—I’ll have to know your name.”

You introduce yourself with a bow in French, thinking a little roleplay won’t hurt. This is still a child, after all, and you want to be at least an enjoyable tutor. He plays along, taking your hand in his in a little formal bow.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle. Je m'appelle Vincent Willem van Gogh.”

Something inside your chest squeezes.

The little boy finally looks up, granting you the full strength of his gaze for the first time that whole day.

Deep, striking sea-blue eyes, just like Theo’s.

-

If Theo were to be completely honest, he would say he hated dealing with these patrons in particular. Misogynist and backwards, he couldn’t even bring you with him to discuss with them because they would just end up spending more time slandering your skills and knowledge about art than actually working out a good deal. But connections are things to be made, not broken, in this trade, and so with a half-hearted smile and a kiss from you to his cheek, that day at the gallery, he’d sent you off to enjoy the art while he talked with the stuck-up rich old men.

At least they have some interesting thoughts about art and money to entertain him, he thinks, as he nurses a glass of whiskey (“Just one! You’re not going to make me carry you home!” you had reminded him, jabbing at his lightweightedness, so he was taking his sweet time with it). He sure would rather have better, deeper conversation, the likes that stimulated the mind and kept him asking for more, but he can’t be picky in a place like this when he–

“Monsieur Theodore?”

A small voice that sends ice down his spine. He steels his features, but he can’t do the same to his heart.

He turns around and something deep inside of him, one that he’s long kept in dark sealed boxes in the shadows of the labyrinth of his mind, breaks.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says, a small, elegant curtsey. “Je suis Johanna van Gogh.”

The part of him that’s human, the one he says has long died, the one that he’s buried, comes back to life in a searing flash of regret and pain. She looks older now–well, a near decade since he’s up and gone–the lines around her eyes deeper, but she also looks finer, more mature; the small blossom he’d left so long ago has now bloomed into a beautiful flower. Oh, his sweet Jo.

He tries his best not to look if she’s still wearing the ring he gave her on her left hand.

He doesn’t hear himself reply, as he tries not to bite down the words. He doesn’t know anymore if he’s lying when he says he is pleased to meet her. “It’s nice to meet a fellow van Gogh.”

She laughs, a little awkward one that’s full of pain. “Yes, a real interesting coincidence.” A beat; Theo sinks into familiarity. That hesitation, the way she pulls quickly backward into herself to rearrange her composure when confidence quickly fails her. She turns away for a moment—which Theo uses to step closer—before she faces him once more, her gaze making him feel small.

“I’m sorry for asking, but… have we met somewhere else before?”

And Theo wants to say yes, because besides the more obvious signs a decade leaves on a human body, Jo looks the same as Theo has kept burned in the backrooms of his memory. They’ve met before—he recognizes her. Her lovely, dark brown hair ever so impeccably styled practically and yet with a subtle kind of charm. The dimples on her cheeks, so deep he used to joke with her and poke a finger into it. The golden caramel color of her eyes, so wide and eager and passionate.

Jo had always been rather plain, and that’s what’s made her really beautiful. There was no need for excesses with her: everything was just exactly as was needed. And it seems that the years haven’t changed that in her, either. Her deep blue dress is fashionable but not extraordinarily so; her smile calculated for politeness but with enough genuineness in it to be truly lovely.

She’s exactly the same, and that’s why it hurts, that’s why Theo wants to say—

Yes. “I don’t believe so, no.”

She continues to look into him and it takes all his strength to not look away.

“I’m sorry, it’s just–my late husband was named Theo as well, and just–”

“I’m sorry to hear,” Theo fills, doesn’t want to hear the rest of it. There’s a knot in his throat and he’s trying not to think about it.

Why did he have to look so different? What curtain of reality is hiding him from the woman he loved most, in that past life? Why didn’t she recognize that it was him she was talking to?

Did he want her to recognize who she was talking to?

“Thank you,” she smiles. “I heard that this entire exhibit wouldn’t have run up without you. Congratulations.”

“I wasn’t alone,” not alone, not alone, not alone, “this was the hard work of the artists and my business partner.” Partner, partner, partner.

“It’s excellent work,” she comments, then pulls back. “Not–I’m not trained, of course. But my husband, he was an art dealer too, loved his career, it rubs off.”

“Art is a good thing to lose yourself into,” he finds himself saying. Theo doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore. He’s choking on the inside and he doesn’t want it to show. Who is he to tell her what’s good for her? When he’s the one who’s left all those wounds on her by leaving her? “It’s a beautiful thing, it grows.” Fills the empty spaces. There’s a thorn in his chest that’s becoming more prominent by the second.

And it hurts only worse when she beams. “Yes, that’s absolutely right. I have much to learn, he’s left me so much behind–aha, maybe one day I’ll ask for your help–and there’s so much I want to do.”

“You’re a passionate woman, Madame Johanna. You would surely make him proud.”

You will. You do. You always have.

She smiles. A steady, confident smile, the one that had made him fall in love with her what seems like a million lifetimes ago. “Thank you, Monsieur Theodore. Excuse me if it may seem rude, but it’s so hard not to think of mijn Theo when I see you.”

“I hope it’s not the sort that pains you.”

“Well, there is only so much time one can spend waist-high in mourning,” she says with a sweet smile. “He’s given me all that I can ask for, now it’s just a matter of getting to work.”

Theo wants to say something but his conscience holds him back. Jo has turned her gaze to the rows of paintings in the gallery, a smile filled with nostalgia on her face. Like she’s returning to a place a million years ago. Perhaps to the same place Theo is in as well, in his head.

She turns back to him slowly, the look on her face unearthing hidden wounds that suddenly feel still-too-raw. “I may not be able to do much, but you, sir—I think the both of you have the same kind of heart…I hope you get to continue what he only got to start.”

Theo feels helpless, left with nothing more to say, even if he knows there is so much left to tell. He doesn’t feel like he has the right to be part of this conversation anymore—a right he’d forfeited the day he’d left this life without second thought, blinded by the darkness of revenge.

Look at all this, Theodorus, he can hear Gauguin say in his head, the voice of the secret phantom who still lives in his unconscious, even if this was so long before, was it worth it? Has it ever been worth it?

Johanna, once his beloved Jo, does a curtsey, a quick excuse me as she finally sets off to leave. Theo tries to say a goodbye, a nice to have spoken to you, a see you again soon, but he doesn’t know if any of it has made it out of his mouth. Instead, he follows her away with his eyes, taking a sip at the whiskey that burns in his throat.

Was it worth it?

Sees her greet you of all people, and you nod at her with an indescribable look on your face.

What did it cost?

Theo’s gaze is glued onto the young boy Johanna van Gogh guides out with her, with his mother’s hair, the same sea blue of his father’s eyes.

Of Theo’s eyes.

Have you ever really ever known how much you’ve lost?

The cool tendrils of dread begin to fill him.

Across the room, you send the mother and child away with a heavy, empty gaze.

---

you are still the sun that shines for me is a 5-chapter fic that will be posted from October 25-28! catch what else is in the atelier later on in this fic. :)

[pottery-and-pomegranates]

‘What is Classical Archaeology? – Greek Archaeology’ by Anthony Snodgrass

Snodgrass's essay, What is Classical Archaeology? – Greek Archaeology, is an exceptionally good starting point for anyone who is interested in Classical, particularly Greek, Archaeology, as it looks at the fundamentals of the subject and helps the reader to build their own opinions.

Scholarly essays often have a habit of being geared towards a certain type of reader, generally with an assumed prior knowledge. The point of this breakdown is not to explore new ideas, but simply to summarise this essay in a way that is, hopefully, more accessible to a wider range of interested people. As such, if you have any questions when reading, please do let me know and I will do my best to help!

In studying Classical Archaeology, one of the biggest questions to start exploring is what Classical Archaeology actually is. The answer to this varies amongst scholars and can alternate between a branch of Art History, Archaeology, Classics, a combination of all three or an entity entirely of its own. Snodgrass explores each of these possibilities, which I will try to break down into a few paragraphs (if any of this interests you, DEFINITELY read the essay - I certainly can't claim this post to be an extensive summary!).

Classics: The study of Classics, i.e. Ancient Greek and Roman texts, is a vital part of Classical Archaeology, and something that sets this discipline apart from other branches of Archaeology. Whilst branches such Prehistoric Archaeology is working purely with recovered artefacts, Classical Archaeologists can use texts of varying kinds to build up a far fuller picture of Classical events. However, this can lead to a reliance on texts, rather than a desire to develop new information and, potentially, contradictions within our knowledge.

Art History: As impossible as it is to separate Classical Archaeology from recovered texts, it is equally as impossible to separate it from Ancient works of art, particularly so as Classical artworks made such an impact on future masterpieces and styles. It is worth noting that Classical Archaeology was once at the heart of both Archaeology and Art History, with figures such as Johann Winckelmann paving the way for Art History of all eras.

Archaeology: Classical Archaeology was, at one stage, the definition of Archaeology itself. Ancient Greece was one of the first eras to be explored, and it was frequently taken for granted that Greece would be the focus of any archaeological organisation. The decline in recent interest could largely be put down to the expansion of archaeologists into different eras and nations. Classical Archaeology can be seen today as a traditional discipline, still managed in a dated way and focused largely on itself rather than the broader issues that Archaeology is set to tackle. To move forward, it is Snodgrass’s belief that Classical Archaeology should be more engaged and entwined with other branches of Archaeology, rather than considering it a discipline entirely in and of its own. However, this does not take away from the fact that Classical Archaeology is a successful discipline with a number of unique strengths.

Connoisseurship: One of the main strengths within Classical Archaeology is the ability to match contemporary texts with surviving artefacts. Adolf Furtwänger (1853-1907) was a leader in this, aiming to match works of art (and copies) to the text reference, believing that the more copies and more references that one artwork had, the greater it must have been. This, in turn, led to the pursuit of ancient artists, as well as ancient artworks.

J. D. Beazley (1885-1970) explored similar tactics in the medium of pottery, but could not use texts to do so as individual vases are rarely mentioned. Looking at Athenian vases, he analysed the subtleties in the decoration, aiming to group the vases under one hand or group. Recent debates, however, have asked how valuable this work actually is. Those developing on Beazley’s work now tend to look far more at the images, materials etc., wondering what they tell us about Ancient Greece as whole, rather than about the individual artist.

Greek Architecture: When it comes to Greek Architecture, it is worth noting that the scholarly attitude towards this subject is vastly different throughout nations, not least because different countries have varying levels of involvement in excavation sites in Greece. The study of Greek architecture tends to be a far more mathematical discipline than other mediums, focusing on measurements, proportion, physics and symmetry. Furthermore, whilst the study of architecture can often be grouped with the study of Art History, there are comparatively few contemporary texts remaining regarding architecture, making the study of this medium far more akin to branches of archaeology. However, despite the lack of contemporary documentation, Greek architecture has, arguably, made the biggest impact on later practices, as can be seen in a great number of buildings produced far more recently (The British Museum, The White House and many others all see resemblances of Greek Temples).

Topography and Regional Surveys: Ancient Sources largely ignore the physical landscape of Greece, which was only really studied from the 19th Century. Full excavations are not possible on a large scale, and therefore only provide conclusive answers of a small section of land. Doing widespread surveys surrounding the excavations means that the ground can be analysed quickly and without intrusion, but can present surface level evidence that may compliment or contradict that of the excavation. · This development had a major effect on the focus of excavating – widespread surveys took archaeologists away from cities and into the countryside, where discoveries were being made on a massive scale, even if just on the surface of the land. From here, historians could start putting their information into context, looking at a world outside of the major sites and, even, outside of Greece.

Chronology: Ancient Greece is, by comparison to history of similar or earlier times, relatively well documented in terms of a chronology. The history of Greece began to be documented extremely soon after the era’s decline, and an abundance of artefacts such as pottery and inscriptions on architecture and coins are still legible. However, using artefacts for building chronology works along a scale of probability, and nothing deducted in this way can be completely certain. Flexibility is needed when working in this industry, particularly as more scientific methods are developed, helping to make dating more accurate and, potentially, contradicting prior beliefs.

For Ancient Greece, one of the most accurate forms of dating is through pottery – not only were they made in abundance, but the pottery tended to hold images of current events. Furthermore, being able to identify the painter, as Beazley was working on, narrows an artwork down to a period of a single lifetime.

Conclusion: · Ultimately, archaeology should be viewed as a combination of archaeology, art history and classics, as well as its own discipline; allowing one to dominate significantly reduces the scope of the subject and restricts the potential advancements that can be made.