#being Persia along with him

[lokidokieokie]

A Tango In Time -- Chapter #1

Summary: While on your walk through the marketplace, a strange man appears in weird clothing; bidding bad tidings. He sweeps you into his arms, and all of a sudden...you're not in Pompeii anymore.

Pairing: TVA!Loki x Roman!Reader

Warning(s): mentions of death and destruction, Loki being a mischievous scamp

As a resident of Pompeii, you lived a simple life in the shadow of the great Mount Vesuvius. You had always known that there was the possibility that the volcano could erupt at any moment, but you never truly expected it to happen; let alone when you were enjoying the sights of the marketplace.

But as the sky turned grey and the ground began to tremor beneath your feet, you knew that it was the end. You closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable, but when you opened them again, you saw a man in some sort of beige cloth standing in front of you. He had a mischievous smile on his face and a glint in his eyes that made you uneasy.

"Nothing matters," he declared, his sultry voice ringing in your ears. He seemed to be talking to someone else, but you were the only one standing there. Suddenly, he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him.

"What are you doing?" you asked, trying to pull away.

"I'm proving a point," he replied, a smirk on his lips.

You had no idea what he was talking about, but before you could protest, he began to swing you around. You stumbled at first, but soon found your footing and began to move with him. The world around you was crumbling and falling apart, but in that moment, all that mattered was the two of you dancing in the midst of destruction.

As the ground continued to shake and the sky turned black, the man in beige continued to dance with you. You had no idea who he was or what he wanted, but you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. His confidence and charm were intoxicating, and for a moment, you forgot about the impending doom.

But just as quickly as it had started, the dancing stopped. The man in beige suddenly let go of your hand and seemingly disappeared, leaving you alone in the chaos of your city's impending doom.

A shaky sigh was all you managed to get out before someone grabbed your arm and pulled you through some sort of glowing light. And the next thing you knew, you were standing in a strange room surrounded by people in strange clothes.

Confused and disoriented, you stumbled forward, trying to find your bearings. Suddenly, the man in beige appeared again, this time with another man in what you're assuming to be formal garb.

"Welcome to the TVA," he said, his mischievous smile never leaving his face. "You're not supposed to be here, but I couldn't resist bringing you along."

You had no idea what he was talking about; what was a TVA? But before you could ask, the man in the formal clothes interrupted.

"Loki, what have you done?" he asked, his voice sounded stern, but the words he spoke were extremely foreign.

The man in beige's -- now known as Loki's-- smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "Relax, Mobius. She's not going to cause any harm."

You sent a confused glance to Loki, "What is this man saying? Where is he from? Greece? Persia?"

Loki's eyes seemed to widen with realisation, "Ah, I apologise my lady. Let me fix this problem." With that, a green haze washed over you, a startled yelp slipping from between your lips.

"Are you two done with your little show?" The older man--who you assumed to be Mobius--asked.

Loki scoffed, "I was not putting on a show! She couldn't comprehend a word that slipped through your lips; so I gave her a little help."

Mobius just sighed, "She's not supposed to be here, Loki. You know the rules," his frustration evident in his tone.

"But isn't that the point? To show you that apocalypses don't affect the timeline?" Loki retorted.

"I was there with you! I saw the evidence on the Tempad! There was no need for you to bring a random woman back with you," Mobius said, crossing his arms.

"Ah, but where's the fun in that? Besides, she seemed like she needed some excitement in her life. Being burned alive or suffocated by volcanic ash doesn't seem like a good pass time," Loki replied with a sly grin.

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head, "What?"

A/N I've had this idea in my drafts for so long...so it's amazing to finally have something to post. This is probably going to be a short story, maybe 5 or 6 part at most.

This is one of my many ideas for my 500 followers celebration!

🏷 @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee @dryyoursaltyoceantears @avahiddlestonstan @fall-myriad

lemme know if you wanted to be added to any of my taglists!

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #fem!reader #tva #tva loki #mobius #mobius m mobius #tva mobius #loki series fanfic #loki fanfic #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston character

[angel-with-paper-wings]

The Siren’s Song

A super quick one-shot I threw together after being inspired by this amazing art done by nipuni!

This takes place while Erik the siren/merman is in Persia and working for the Shah, and Nadir is charged with making sure he is cared for and ready to suit the Shah’s whims. I hope you all enjoy and thanks again to nipuni for the incredible art and idea!

Rating/Warnings: rated T, tiny amount of gore, references to murder

The sun dipped just below the west horizon, painting the Mazenderan sky a bright blood-red. From the window of the great Persian palace overlooking the Caspian Sea, the sunset’s glowing splendor made for a breathtaking view. A single figure stood at the window; Nadir watched the light disappear below the horizon with a heavy sigh. With the end of the day came one of Nadir’s most important duties, one that he either found mildly enjoyable or extremely unpleasant. The probability of either outcome was as unpredictable as the waves in the sea below him. 

Nadir tipped the last of his cup of tea into his mouth, letting the flavors cradle his tongue for a moment before turning away from the window. He then walked through the halls of the fine palace towards the kitchen. The Shah had spared no expense in the construction of the lavish building, which served as His Majesty’s personal home in the region of Mazenderan. Nadir Khan held authority of the property when the Shah was not present, and as such was in charge of the strange rituals that occurred within the building. Or, more accurately, below it.

In the kitchen, Nadir prepared two small baskets of sustenance, then took them and proceeded to the entrance to the palace’s cellars. Down the dark stone steps he treaded, so accustomed to the path by now that he could walk it without the aid of a lantern. He arrived outside a large wooden door with a ruby-encrusted doorknob. Willing his heart to stop beating so fast, he turned the doorknob and opened the door.

Inside was an enormous room, with dark stone walls lit intermittently with torches. The floor of the room was almost entirely missing, replaced instead with a great pool of black water. The surface of the liquid was eerily still and presented no indication of how deep it was. The stillness, coupled with the obtrusive feeling of unknown, gave any who entered it a chill along their spine.

Nadir felt the feeling wash over him again, but let it pass with a practiced air of calm. He stepped forward from the doorway onto the stone platform that formed the edge of the pool. The platform extended forward about three meters, before stopping at the water’s edge. However, a thin stone catwalk, wide enough for a single person to stand on at a time, extended out along the surface of the water, stopping in the center of the great pool. Simply standing on the platform near the door was terrifying enough, but many enemies of the Shah had found themselves being urged out onto the slippery catwalk to meet a ghastly fate. No one in their right mind would step foot on that catwalk, even if they were unaware of what lay beneath the water’s surface; even now, Nadir felt his primal defenses tensing and urging him not to step forward. But he had done this many times before.

He closed the wooden door and let the loud slam echo off of the stone walls. He then stepped forward across the platform with purposefully heavy footsteps: one, two, three, four, five. With a deep breath, Nadir then stepped forward onto the catwalk. He kept his movements slow and scanned the water carefully with his jade-green eyes.

Once he was almost at the edge of the walkway, he became aware of a strange sound surrounding him. It was so faint he did not notice it at first, but by each passing second it grew into a low droning note, half-breath and half-music. It seemed to rise from the water itself, the surface of which remained smooth and black as ink. The soft humming wove itself into Nadir’s mind, pulling him closer and closer, but he fought to keep his legs steady on the platform and his eyes fixed on the water. His voice called out into the chill air of the room, breaking through the humming with a single word.

“Erik?”

At once the humming stopped. Nadir looked around for any sign of movement below the murky water.

“You’re late,” a voice called from behind Nadir. The Persian man jumped and almost slipped on the stone catwalk, hissing out a curse. He turned around to see the figure of a man—well, a man’s head and torso—sitting atop the edge of the stone platform. Where his hips would have begun, the pale skin faded into black scales: the beginning of a long black tail that at the moment remained hidden beneath the surface of the dark water. The top half of the siren’s face was covered by a sculpted white mask, and the bottom half was curled up in an unsettling grin, his yellow eyes unblinkingly fixed on Nadir.

“I had to finish my tea,” Nadir muttered. “But I am not one to forget my duties.” He held up the pair of baskets in his hands.

The yellow eyes shifted to rest on the basket. Erik’s eerie grin widened, his thin lips pulling back to reveal two rows of razor-sharp fangs. Without warning the siren plunged himself into the water, barely leaving a ripple in his wake as he disappeared beneath the surface. The room became deathly quiet again, until Nadir saw a shimmering out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look down at the water next to him, and watched the spiny points of fins dragging along just under the surface. The whiplike tail then flipped out of the water, sprinkling Nadir with a spray of droplets. The man grumbled and wiped his face bitterly.

He whipped his head around to the other side and saw the siren’s head poking out of the water a few feet off of the catwalk, the sly grin frozen in place. Nadir knelt down on the stone walkway and said, “You make this quite difficult. Although I’m sure that is the intention.”

Erik scoffed. “You offend me, Daroga. It is always my intention to make guests feel comfortable when they visit my home.” He brought his bony elbows up to rest on the stone catwalk and craned his neck to see what Nadir was rummaging with in the basket. “What have you brought for me to break my fast with today, hmm?”

Nadir let out a huff as he extracted a large fish, freshly caught. He avoided meeting Erik’s eyes as the siren’s tongue poked out from between the thin lips, dragging across the dagger-like teeth. In the other basket, Nadir revealed his own meal: seasoned lamb kebab with rice and flatbread. At the sight of the “human” food, the siren turned up his nose. “You’ll spoil my appetite, Daroga,” he whined, inching himself further away.

Nadir gave Erik an amused glare while he sat and took a bite of the bread. The siren made a face of disgust before turning his attention to his own meal.

The strange pair began to eat together; at one point, Nadir looked up at the siren, but immediately wished he hadn’t. Erik’s mouth was rimmed with blood, and Nadir’s stomach turned as he watched the long tongue swipe hungrily over his fangs, wiping them clean of fish. “How is your new invention coming along?” Nadir asked, attempting to distract himself from the rather frightening image.

Erik’s yellow eyes sparked. “Perhaps you could tell me,” he said mischievously. At Nadir’s questioning look, he added, “I just tried it on you.”

Nadir frowned. “The humming?”

The siren nodded. Behind him, the fins of his long black tail splashed excitedly in the water. “I have found a frequency of sound that most humans find relaxing, even intoxicating. Amplifying this signal allows it to pass through water with relative ease, reaching their ears without them realizing the source…until it is too late.” The fang-filled grin flashed across his face again.

Nadir nodded in understanding. He wouldn’t lie, it made him a bit disappointed inside to know that Erik was capable of such ingenuity and artistry, only for it to be exploited in the name of causing torture and death. He sighed to himself.

“What about you, Daroga? How are things faring in the world above?” Erik asked as he set aside the bones of the fish and began picking at his fangs with one slender finger.

“Well, the Shah is having trouble finding a replacement vizier, one that he finds more trustworthy than the last.” Nadir couldn’t help his eyes from glancing over to where the scaly black tail shimmered and swished beneath the water. The last vizier, after his betrayal to the Shah was discovered, had found his death in this very room not a week prior, his neck snapped within the elastic force of that same strong tail. Nadir inhaled a deep breath to clear his thoughts. “As such, His Majesty has found himself under a lot of stress. He questions the loyalty of almost everyone around him. Because of this, I imagine you’ll be getting more…visitors soon.”

At Nadir’s last statement, Erik’s eyes darkened. “Visitors,” he spat the word with disdain. He pushed himself off of the stone catwalk and sunk lower into the water. He began to effortlessly swim in a circle before Nadir as he spoke impatiently. “There is no need for petty euphemisms, Daroga. I know what my role is to the Shah. I am his royal executioner; he sends me those he hates the most, the ones he wishes to see die the most agonizing deaths. And much like you, I am not one to forget the duties assigned to me.”

Nadir met the siren’s burning yellow gaze. “That is not the only role you fulfill, Erik,” he assured firmly. “You are an architect, the greatest Persia has ever seen. Your creations have brought wonder and beauty to many, not just terror and destruction. Trust me, you are valued much more than as a simple executioner.”

Erik’s tail lashed through the water, and he practically leapt forward until he was in front of Nadir. “Then why does the Shah keep me in a shallow tank and feed me like an exotic pet? Do not dare lie to me, Daroga, for I know my true worth in this country.” He slowly slid back into the water, turning his black-spined back to Nadir. His hand drifted up to touch the edge of the porcelain mask that hid half of his face. “I know my true worth…in this world.”

Nadir watched Erik with great pity within his noble and generous heart. After a quiet moment, he reached a hand into the inner pocket of his coat. “I believe you requested this a few days ago,” he said softly.

Erik turned his head around, and his eyes widened as he looked upon the object in Nadir’s hands. It was a large book, leather-bound with gold letters forming a title across the cover. He eagerly swam closer to find out what it said. “Italian Architecture of the 16th Century,” he read. His fingers reached up and snatched it from Nadir’s offering hands; he opened it up and began looking through it quickly, paying little attention to the small drops of water from his wet hands soaking through the pages. “Fascinating.”

Nadir smiled at his eagerness. “I suppose I’ll leave you to it, then. Enjoy your evening.” He have a small bow before standing and waking back along the catwalk to the stone platform.

Just as he reached for the door handle, he heard the voice behind him again say, “Daroga.” Nadir paused, before turning back around.

Erik slowly swam forward, cutting through the water like glass without leaving a single ripple. He reached the edge of the pool and pushed himself out with his wiry arms, resting the base of his tail on the stone platform. In the torchlight, Nadir could see the scars that slashed across his chest and shoulders, the way his ribs and joints protruded plainly from under his greyish pale skin. Despite the nocturnal darkness that rimmed his golden pupils, Erik’s eyes appeared soft as they focused on Nadir. “You have my thanks,” he whispered timidly.

A warmth erupted in Nadir’s chest as he took in Erik’s quiet words. With the corners of his lips turned up in a smile, Nadir gave Erik one final nod before opening the door and climbing back up to the world above.

#phantom of the opera #poto #Phantom of the Opera #Erik #Daroga #Daroga/Nadir Khan #erik x daroga #platonic erik x daroga #you can read this as romantic or platonic #I didn’t really specify either way #my writing #one shot #fanfiction #poto fanfiction #mermay

[rainbeausworld]

The Horned Serpent

So before I get started on this one, I have a couple of things to get out of the way. First, I will be using she/her pronouns for the Horned Serpent; this is just because UPG and because I'm used to it. I know someone else who venerates/worships the Horned Serpent, uses they/them pronouns for them, and considers them to be beyond gender / present as whatever gender they feel like. Second, I will be focusing on my interpretation of her on the Gundestrup Cauldron, in part because there's really not a lot of literature on her, even when you include works that specifically analyze Cernunnos' depictions. Third (and related), I will be using the National Museum of Denmark's estimate as to when/where the Gundestrup Cauldron was made, which is roughly in the Danubian or Wallachian Plain(s) around 150 BCE to 1 CE (link).

So first a little historical & cultural context. This area, as far as culture groups, would have been a heck of a melting pot, between the Dacians and Thracians that already lived there, the Scythians coming in and also living near by, the Gauls that moved in around the 300s-200s, the Greeks who came up and started establishing colonies along the Black Sea in the 300s, and the Romans, encroaching on everyone's business around the time the Cauldron was built. A pretty solid primer on the history of the region is A Companion to Ancient Thrace, published by Wiley Blackwell.

So I'm gonna try to make sense but it might be a little disorganized going forward. Anyway, onto the actual thoughts & stuff. So anyone who's taken even a passing glance at Cernunnos is well aware of the Horned Serpent, since she is present in basically every ancient art you can find with him. On the Gundestrup Cauldron, she appears three times, all on the interior panels. One is at the Hero's heel, who's holding the wheel; a second is at the end of a line of heroic riders, which seems to be a Thracian horseman motif; and of course the famous Cernunnos panel. In Thracian Tales of the Gundestrup Cauldron, published by Najade Press, Jan Best presents an interpretation of the interior panels as a story, and assumes that Cernunnos is singing in his famous panel, specifically about the secrets of immortality, a concept which was very popular at the time. I agree with this and I also assume that the depiction of Taranis / the wheel god is that he is also singing, and if he is singing then the lions and griffins - both predators associated with kingship (griffins were protectors of the pharaoh, and also decorated certain tombs out in ancient Persia), then the action of passing off the Wheel must have symbolic meaning, such as being handed the Wheel of Heaven.

The Gundestrup Cauldron's exterior also has very clear influence from the Scythians, you can almost 1:1 map the gods based on Herodotus's retelling of the Pontic stories. I believe there are also thematic parallels going on here on the Wheel God panel, featuring a new god/king being given the symbol of his domain. Wikipedia actually has some relatively thorough articles on Scythian religion as well as the genealogical myth specifically, which is the myth that I personally associate with the wheel-giving panel. As well, the animals in this panel don't appear to be particularly concerned with attacking anyone - if anything, the griffins and lionesses are slightly tilted from one to the next, which makes me think it's more likely that they are dancing, especially if the human/divine subjects are singing, especially if the human with the helmet is receiving a high honor, potentially his rank amongst the gods. In this panel, she is just at the hero's feet, not really joining the parade if the animals, but clearly not ready to attack either, but her attention does seem to be drawn towards the hero.

The final panel she is on is the panel featuring the nine soldiers and the heroized dead, represented by the "Thracian horseman" motif. After Alexander the Great and his penchant for having statues of himself be on horseback, it became popular for wealthy men and nobles to depict themselves riding horseback to a goddess or sacred tree (unfortunately my best source discussing this in English is also not great and he comes up with some..... questionable theories), but the popularity seems to have blown up to the point where even deities such as Zeus were depicted on horseback in a similar manner. There are also mentions in a few other sources that the Thracians believed in the ability for people to essentially become immortal after death. Unfortunately, I'm having trouble sorting out my notes and this essay has been nagging me for weeks now.

Anyway, I interpret this panel as what is expected to happen to us after we die - the "ordinary", so to speak, are lead to a deity, likely to be reincarnated (this is honestly just a guess on my part largely due to the popularity of that in Greece for ever, and Grecian influence was in full swing by the time the Cauldron was made), meanwhile the "extraordinary" are lead by the Horned Serpent.

This is where I tie all three together to my upg/theology: The Horned Serpent is a friend and ally to Cernunnos. He teaches the secrets of life after death to those who will listen. The Horned Serpent is by his side during his teaching, and when we die, if we have proven ourselves worthy during life, she guides us through the trials of the afterlife. If we succeed in these trials, we are awarded with apotheosis - becoming a god or godlike - and she stands by our side as we earn this prize.

@musingmelsuinesmelancholy sorry it took me so long x.x & I hope this makes sense!

#cernunnos #thracian polytheism #gaulish polytheism #dacian polytheism #scythian polytheism #the horned serpent #balkan paganism #celtic paganism #paganism

[livebloggingmydescentintomadness]

Wait…

I have just had my eyes opened; I’ve never really looked at Phantom with my shipping goggles on.

Please, PLEASE tell me about your rarepair otp.

(answering this a few days late, sorry!)

(in reference to my tags on this post)

haha, i'm glad to infect another person! xD now, i admit that it's been years since i read susan kay's phantom book, which is the version that does the most exploring of erik and nadir's relationship (nadir being the man referred to as 'the persian' and 'the daroga' in leroux's book), so i'm sure there's a LOT i've forgotten or that i may be misremembering.

but i think it's really interesting, as nadir is literally erik's only real friend, the only person who truly knows him and has known him for actual decades. nadir saw erik at, arguably, his worst in mazandaran, when his entire job was to creatively kill people, but he also saw erik's compassion and humanity in how erik loved nadir's son and helped to ease his passing when he was terminally ill.

then, when nadir's wife has died, he moves from persia to paris just to install himself as erik's conscience, to bitch at him about his bad choices and try to badger him into making better choices... which sounds something like a marriage to me, lmao.

i can't remember whether nadir ever saw erik without his mask - i want to say yes, but i can't recall - but he's certainly the last person alive who knows the most of erik's dark past, who's seen the worst of him, and he still cares. maybe erik is the only real friend he has too, the only person left who understands him after he lost his family.

don't get me wrong, i like erik and christine and the sweeping gothic romance of it, but i also like the idea of, in the aftermath of christine leaving, erik picking up the pieces with nadir's help and realizing that this person has been there all along, this person who sees him and genuinely cares for him. and maybe it's not grand opera arias or any other dramatic gestures, but it's real and it's steady and it's good. they're old and exhausted and deeply damaged by life, but they have each other, and personally, i think that's just as romantic.

it also doesn't hurt that i like to headcanon nadir as oded fehr (ardeth bay from the mummy). 😉

#icannotreadcursive #poto #phantom of the opera #erik x nadir #pharoga #ask

[orangeispice]

SWEET CHRISTMAS, THE ATSV TRAILER IS OUT

The character designs are so crisp! and gorgeous!

I'm especially hyped seeing as my three favourite spider-men are appearing in the movie (not Julia Carpenter, unfortunately but maybe next time):

Thoughts and pics under the cut:

#3: Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man 2099)

I got into reading Spider-Man 2099 really soon after getting into the Amazing Spider-Man comics, and along with Matt Murdock, this dude is the definition of "how can i be the biggest b*tch in the room at all times but still maintain my charm"

Also according to the trailer, he may or may not have a daughter? Interesting, since her name seems to be very similar to his brother in the comics (Gabriel O'Hara) or his future-son, whose he named after his brother. We'll have to see!

#2: Ben Reilly (Scarlet Spider)

Listen, I'm going to say this straight off the bat: the most recent characterizations of Ben (cough cough looking at you CHASM) have been very unsatisfactory, to say the least, so this is very cathartic for me. I don't know if he's going to be a particularly important character in the movie, but I do appreciate his appearance so far.

DRUMROLL PLEASE

#1: Pavitr Prabhakar (Spider-Man "India")

As an Indian who has lived in Canada, a western country all her life, you have no idea how excited I was to see this character in the trailer. Western superhero movies (and Western movies in general) have a penchant for forgetting South Asians even exist. Based on the fact that there's a decent amount of merch coming out for the guy, I'm thinking that he'll either be a main character or at least have speaking roles. I read the miniseries for him, and I'd love to see it adapted to the big screen.

For some reason, his character design drew a lot of criticism? Some people said that his outfit was too stereotypical, and others said that the decision to have his hair sticking out the mask is kind of dumb.

In my opinion, this character design is absolutely on point; we never see Indian characters on Western television without them being heavily edited to match perceptions, where they'll have names like "Nicole Patel," or "John Reddy." (and I'm not saying people don't have those names, but what about people with more ethnic Indian names who don't pass for westernized ones?) and their WHOLE CHARACTER ARC will be about their PARENTS being stereotypical Indians, not the characters themselves. I digress.

I happen to love his outfit; similar to how Miles uses spray paint for his costume, Pavitr uses motifs that originated from Persia/Indian subcontinent, and wears a dhoti. Also, about the hair argument; there are plenty of other superheroes who don't leave their long hair tucked in/cropped short so that argument is just dumb.

In short, I'm really excited to see these characters on the big screen, and hoping ATSV will do them justice (which it probably will).

#marvel #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #ben reilly #scarlet spider #chasm #pavitr prabhakar #spiderman india #spiderman #desi tag

[archduchessofnowhere]

Hi, hope this question won’t be too long.

In “The Real Francis Joseph, the Private Life of the Emperor of Austria,” by Henri de Weindel, it states that in 1873 at the Vienna Exhibition, Empress Elisabeth was given an Egyptian slave who was part of the exhibit. The book later states that Elisabeth nursed the boy when he was sick and that he became a playmate to Marie Valerie and Sisi even had them photographed together and allowed copies of the photo to be sold. However, when the photo was caricatured in the newspaper Franz Josef became so angry he had all copies of the photograph and caricature destroyed. Another source said the boy was named Mahmoud (with the spelling varying according to source).

My question is though is there any information on what became of the boy afterwards? (The Weindel book doesn’t mention Mahmoud beyond this event). Or even to the accuracy of this incident?

Hello! I think Wendel is actually talking about a boy called Rustimo, who entered Elisabeth's service around 1877:

Rustimo with Archduchess Marie Valerie and with Crown Prince Rudolf.

There doesn't seem to be an agreement on how Rustimo actually entered Elisabeth's entourage. According to Corti, Rustimo was "presented to her by the Khedive [the title of the governor of Egypt]" (1936, p. 280), meanwhile Brigitte Hamann says that he was "a blackamoor the Shah of Persia (according to one of various versions) had sent as a gift" (1986, p. 231). Giving that in both versions he was allegedly a "given" to the Empress, it may be safe to assume he indeed had been enslaved.

Before continuing, I'd like to make a small detour to talk about an event from Elisabeth's childhood: her father buying five enslaved boys in one of his trips.

Soon after the future Empress of Austria's birth, her father Duke Max in Bavaria embarked on a several months-long trip to Orient. In Cairo Max visited the slave market, and was horrified of seeing "people being sold like cattle", as he later wrote down in his memoirs about the trip (Winkelhofer, 2022). It was then probably an attempt at altruism what brought him to buy five boys from the market and bring them back with him to Munich, instead of just an "eccentricity" as it's often put.

Why did I mention this? Because the boys remained in the service of the Duke for many years. As Dr Martina Winkelhofer points out:

They lived in the servants' quarters at the back of Palais Max, on the second floor. Elisabeth also had her room up there, but at the front of the building. Having to deal with black servants was an everyday occurrence for her from childhood. (ibid)

Considering this, it wouldn't have been "exotic" for her to take Rustimo into her household. But given the reaction of the court, it's not strange that previous biographers see this only as her wanting to offend Viennese society. Landgravine Therese Fürstenberg, one of the Empress' ladies-in-waiting, wrote to her sister in August of 1877 that (warning for racist connotations):

The Archduchess [Valerie] recently took the blackamoor along on the promenade, he was put in the carriage with the French teacher, who sat next to the heathen feeling shamed and sad; the Archduchess always gives candy to children along the road. But now none of them dared to come near her when they saw the black boy and tried in every way to avoid the monster and his bared teeth, so as to get to the candies; all this seemed a great joke to the little girl. (Hamann, 1986, p. 231)

We have (even more) explicitly racist comments made by Landgravine Fürstenberg as well as by Countess Mária Festetics, another lady-in-waiting, but I rather not share them, they're just too nasty and add nothing to the post. You can make an idea of how everyone felt about Rustimo.

And what about Valerie? According to Corti, she "was afraid of him and took some time to grow accustomed to him" (1936, p. 280). But she never wrote down her feelings about her playmate. In the over 300 pages of her diary, she only mentions him once, in an entry from February 24 of 1880:

At ½7 Puttl and Raab come and we both have a dance lesson together until 7 o'clock when we have a supper and then "Eile mit Weile" [a board game] with Rustimo. Papa comes after ½8 until 8 o'clock. Then I go to bed (p. 21)

Elisabeth had Rustimo baptized in 1878 (it was just unacceptable that the Catholic Habsburgs had a heretic in their service). He was given the Christian name of "Rudolf" after the Crown Prince, his godfather. The Empress wrote of this ocasion to her mother Ludovika:

Today was Rustimo's christening in Valerie's salon… Rudolf was godfather. It was solemn and ludicrous, there were tears and laughter. He himself was very moved and wept. (Hamann, 1986, p. 231)

Rustimo continued to ascend in the Empress favor, and in 1884 he was made "announcer of the bedchamber". He remained in the service of Elisabeth until 1890, when he was pensioned, and in 1891, Rustimo "was sent to the charity institution in Ybbs, where he died the very next year" (Hamann, 1986, 232).

Screenshot of the Official Guide of the Austro-Hungarian Empire from 1890 that shows Rustimo as part of the staff of Elisabeth's chamber (middle column, at the bottom).

While Hamann states that Rustimo fell out of favor in 1885 (she gives no source for this) and that after he left court he was abandoned, Winkelhofer claims that, while writing her two-part biography of Elisabeth, she found evidence that it was the Empress who payed for Rustimo's stay at the institution Hamann mentions, and also for his grave when he died (she wrote about this on Instagram but I cannot for the life of me find in which post, you'll have to trust me on this one sorry). Winkelhofer has said that the second part of her biography, which will be published on August this year, will have this evidence, as well as new information about Rustimo; she claims it we'll give us a new image of him. This is actually the reason why I hadn't written about Rustimo yet, I was waiting for her book to come out to have all the information we have available and make a more complete post.

As for the claims made by Wendel, I honestly don't know. None of Elisabeth's biographer mention anything of her nursing Rustimo, and clearly all the copies of the picture of of him with Valerie weren't destroyed, since we have it to this day.

Before finishing this post, one more thing: Muhammed was a different servant! We know nothing (yet) of him, in fact neither Corti nor Hamann mention him in their books. Winkelhofer just says in the first part of her biography that "the Nubian Muhammed Beschir, [was a] servant for three years until his return to Africa" (2022). But she has also promised to reveal what she has discovered of this unknown servant in the second part of her biography, and I can't wait for it!

I hope that you found my answer helpful and I promise you to update this ask when I get Winkelhofer's book!

Sources:

Corti, Egon Caesar Conte (1936). Elizabeth, empress of Austria (translation by Catherine Alison Phillips)

Hamann, Brigitte (1986). The Reluctant Empress: A Biography of Empress Elisabeth of Austria (translation by Ruth Hein)

Hof- und Staatshandbuch der Österreichisch-Ungarischen Monarchie, 1890 

Schad, Martha and Schad, Horst [ed.] (1998). Das Tagebuch der Lieblings Tochter von Kaiserin Elisabeth. 1878-1899

Winkelhofer, Martina (2022). Sissi. La vera storia. Il cammino della giovane imperatrice (translation by Federica Saccucci)

#rudolf rustimo #empress elisabeth of austria #archduchess marie valerie of austria #crown prince rudolf #asks

[streets-in-paradise]

Prince of Persia was, honestly, kinda refreshing. Like, upon my initial watch, I thought that Garsiv would wind up being evil because he looked so different from Tus and Dastan (that being his hair was tied back/braided and it was black, he was violence prone, he was always wearing armour of some kinda and it was dark in colour). In American-made media, if somethings different (especially if it has a lot of dark colours), it's usually gonna be evil or bad. To see a piece of media that, for once, didn't do that was kinda nice. Also, the fact that none of the three were evil was also really nice.

Sidenote: Garsiv was my favourite out of them and I wish we'd gotten to see more.

THIS THIS, I SWEAR I WOULD PRINT THIS ASK AND HANG IT!!

In any other american - made film of that era, Garsiv would have been the main target of Nizam and a secondary antagonist.

The story would have been like:

Nizam projected his power hungry ambitions into Garsiv, who he raised in the same insecurities about being the youngest. Tus is the perfect copy of Sharaman because he is the heir, so Nizam teaches Garsiv to share his resentment and turns him into his evil minion mini me. By the time Dastan is adopted, Tus and Garsiv are already a Thor and Loki duo and his arrival only encourages the resentment of Garsiv. He gets along with Tus inmediately, since he can find in Dastan what the broken sibling bond with Garsiv lacks.

Garsiv feels completely replaced by Dastan, turns into a villian and participates of Nizam's complot.

IT DIDN'T HAPPEN, IT DIDN'T!

A few days ago i was rewatching the movie with my sister and she spent the whole time waiting for a " Garsiv is evil" obvious plot twist that never happened.

I LOVE THAT THEY DIDN'T DO IT, SERIOUSLY LOVE IT!

They gave us a lovely, healthy, awesome trio of brothers without that shitty complusion of villianizing one through dark colouring!

I love Garsiv, he definitely deserved more screentime.

#people see this dude #and the first thing the will think is ' that's one of the antagonists' #NO! #that's not a bad guy #that's a chaotic sunshine who loves his brothers #prince of persia #prince of persia: the sands of time #garsiv #prince garsiv #toby kebbell

[silverjetsystm]

"Tell me... a story..." Black Mask pants, easing himself down beside what would have been his lover could he still love, with rather much less grace than he'd like. They are about equally battered and bruised, due to crawl home more than limp... but Roman had been fresh to this fight and M not so much. The only reason he's the one capable of calling a shot. An old one. One extended to him forever ago, when they'd started tiring of the usual routine and had begun extending it. It appeals more than just putting a bullet in his bride and calling it a day. Price for being let go. One story. M's turn.

@echoestm -- this is before we start making deals.

Moon Knight's chest wheezed and clicked with wounded approximation of growling, face twisted in rage. Last night's Subterranean round with Commodore Planet. Common sense would have told him he wasn't ready for another match. Black Mask was his to deal with so he went. Mask had been ready for him. Moon Knight didn't make it easy. In the end, Silver spoon Sionis, settling down beside him, giving the terms of survival. Galling. "B-better leave. Hrrk. While you still can."

Bullet in his head isn't how he dies.

Concrete is a lousy mattress; he glares, rummaging through stories to tell. Himself? No. The snake and the rabbi in the shtetl, learned at his father's knee, drilled into tuned out ears as a teen, and recited to Marlene and Frenchie years ago? Too nostalgic, too revealing. Glowing eyes stare into the wooden skull.

{Purim's comin' up.} Really Jake? {Uh huh.}

Softer, saltier wheeze, shifting little by little upright. "Purim's comin' up. You'd like it. Big bash….Dress up, Masks. I'd always be Indy. Kids put on a lil play. Adult themes go over their heads. An' everyone gets fershnickered…" A boy's mischievous smile.

The story starts and stops. Catching breath. Coughing. "Long ago, in Persia, the king--" There was a name. They've forgotten. "--throws a six month long party for his whole kingdom. By the end, he's drunk and tells his queen to show her royal beauty. Y'know. Birthday suit style. She refuses. He picks a different girl to be queen. Esther. Esther's Jewish… Her cousin, Mordecai, tells her to keep it hidden. Mordecai keeps the king from getting assassinated. This ticks off his viceroy, Haman."

Deliberate pause. "Supposed to boo when you hear his name. Haman…" Boot nudges Mask's leg. "M tellin' a story. Y'gotta play along… W-Work with me here…M not performin' fer--" Wheeze, hack. "Rrrn. Haman learns Mordecai's Jewish. Convinces the king to kill all the Jews in Persia. Mordecai hears this plot. Jews start fastin' and prayin'. Nobody can talk sense into the king cause the king says anyone who approaches him will die. Esther's scared. She eventually addresses the king cause we all know she's the only one who can approach. Says 'If I perish, I perish.' Mordecai keeps tickin' Haman off by not bowin' to him."

Layers. Intrigue. Is the boxer holding pain while the scrapper talks? Chicago or Brooklyn? They're all Moon Knight, they all make up the rabbi's son. Is this even engaging? White clothes, black masks of cloth and wood. If Moon Knight dies, all they die. Chances are they'll scrap another time. Way of things. Jake and Grant guess this is high stakes flirting. Cute.

"Haman decides to hang Mordecai the next day. King hears Mordecai saved his life chapters ago. An' asks Haman how to honor a guy like that. Haman thinks the king's talkin' about him. So he tells the king to let the guy wear the king's robes and be led round on the king's horse. King has Haman give these honors to Mordecai. Haman's night is as bad as his day. Esther reveals she's Jewish, King backs her, an' Haman is executed."

Their smile turns Moon Knight bloodthirsty. Marc's favorite part. No G-d mentioned in this tale. G-d is in the pile-up of individual actions. "Cause y'can't call cancel a decree," he says, scathingly. "What y' can do is kill all those with lethal intent. The Jews rise up and put Haman's sons, would be killers, an' thousands of other people to the sword." The non-child friendly part. How far is too far?

"And now we tell the story every year, eating cookies of Haman's ear."

#echoestm #feat. black mask #we are mk | system #asked and answered #//listen i love commodore laser eyes #//'MY BONNIE APPARITION [EXPLOSION SFX]' #//fuck it system effort #//purim spiel by gunpoint #//add this to 'MK Fail Compilation'

[sometimecatsometimenot]

An Aegean Bollywood Dream

—

👀 Had anyone seen me post about Greece and Bollywood before? I hid that post because I misunderstand something about Turkish songs. (I said I find less hit Turkish songs that sound like Bollywood. Turned out it’s my mistake that I didn’t find much of hit Turkish song that sound similar to Bollywood song. In fact there’s many of them but I have to search in Turkish, not English, in order to find them)

Anyway, back to Greece and Bollywood, I was wonder why do many greek songs give a strong Bollywood vibe? After I read more about this topic, I think there’s no certain answer for this question. One of my assumption is Greece is where the East meet the West, therefore there was the cultural integration back and forth from South Asia through Persia to Anatolia and EastMed where Greeks belong, then from the Greeks and EastMed along the way through Persia to South Asia since the time of ancient greek or at least Kingdom of Macedonia, and somehow this integration still continue in the Byzantine era, which may be the answer why the musics from these places has some relatable sound. Then the Turks came there later and adopt the local music into there culture, and as the Ottoman Empire consisted of people from both east and west, the music from both side may somehow influenced each other styles.

Another assumption of mine is - This - I read many thing about Greece and this is what I was unexpected to find, but it is also the fact I like. Yes, Greece had been in love with Bollywood films at a point in his life!

I love Indian films! And knowing that Herakles the best boi love a similar thing with me is very nice!

From English source that I found, it’s about the age of cold war, 50’s, that Bollywood films were very popular among working classes in Greece, especially whose family cane from Asia minor after the end of Greco-Turkish war, due to their story about the struggling of poor people and women in their harsh life where classist and social problem rained on them, which was relatable to the working classes life. Indian film became a solace for people. More than hundred of Bollywood songs were recreated in Greek version, and there even was a Greek song inspired by the beauty of an Indian actress, Madhubala. Some of the greek folk music Rebetika then also being integrated with some Bollywood music inspiration.

Unfortunately, the Bollywood films and music with Eastern vibe were seen as a low-class art and being despite by some people who side with the western culture, and sometime there were even the rebetika being banned during some era of military dictatorship because the kind of music “sound” Turkish. Anyway, about 70’s the popularity of Bollywood in Greece was shrinking as the western and greek own media become more favorable.

However, since modern India and Greece become allies in the field of culture, tourism and business, Greece again has been open for Indian culture and also wish to be a major shooting location of Bollywood movies. That is another nice thing to here!

Indian filmmakers are already very skillful in extracting beautiful scene out of any crappy place, then imagine them shooting film in an already magnificent place like Greek island. Yes. It certainly turn out very beautiful! And I am looking forward to seeing any future Indian film that take place in Greece. It must be coooool!!!

—

For the picture - I was thinking about Herakles in the 50’s - 60’s. Maybe, … m someday he was very tired because of a hard day, and he thought of some Bollywood films he’d watched which made him felt better during the unstable time of life, then he grabbed his bouzuki and tried playing a song from a film he remembered, and fell asleep, dreaming of a sweet dance with the filmmaker he liked, an old friend and rival of his mother, who was the maker behind the films that gave the solace he got along the days.

#hetalia #aph hetalia #aph greece #hws greece #aph india #hws india

[irithnova]

I LOVE your Mongolia hcs. Looking back at some Mongolia art, I was always confused why Mongolia is always drawn much older than Russia. Isn’t Russia supposed to be older as a country??? Mongolia appeared in the 13th century and Russia in 10th?

Ok so I personally headcanon Mongolia to be an old as f*** man LMAO. Not as old as as China or India or Persia but but old that other nations look at him and put him in the same kind of category.

It's not as if Mongolian people sprang up out of nowhere when Genghis Khan came along. Mongolian people and their predecessors have been there for a while. Albeit they were fragmented before Genghis came along and united the Mongol tribes.

I think that Mongolia existing before this, even way before this makes sense (in my personal headcanon). I will touch upon the predestination hetalia theory later on in this God-forsaken essay. For now, this is a more simple example. Aph Prussia is still a character/"alive" despite Prussia as a state/nation no longer existing. So, in hetalia, a nation rep can exist without the nation/state itself actually existing. Perhaps more of a representation of that ethnic group?

Coming back to what I said about how its not like Mongolian people sprung up out of nowhere in the 13th century. I also think the same could be said for Mongolia himself. Many different nomadic groups lived in/ruled over Mongolia since Ancient times, and I like to think Mongolia lived through a lot of this (but he cannot remember a lot of his very early life, will get onto why later).

According to the introduction of the secret history of the Mongols, the Mongols were a small nomadic tribe that lived in Mongolia along with the Unggirads, Kereyids, Naimans, Tayichiuds and the Merkids. The Mongols were among one of the many nomadic groups traveling around this area in the 10th century. Indeed, I do recall reading that there were Chinese records calling the Mongols by their name from the 9/10th century?

So, in this instance, you could argue that Russia and Mongolia are around the same age. I’ve seen some people accept this as their personal headcanon, and it makes quite an interesting dynamic!

However, I personally like to go back even further.

Now I understand that the argument of X didn't spring up out of nowhere it's always existed can only hold up for so long. So I do hope my argument justifying why Mongolia is an old man doesn't come across this way.

Way before Mongols, there was the Xiongnu. I’ll give a simplified run down of what happened with them. The Xiongnu empire emerged in 209 BC however fell apart in the 4th century AD.

As I have stated before, many different ethnic groups ruled over and lived in Mongolia since Ancient times. However the establishment of the Xiongnu empire is what marked the beginning of statehood on Mongolian territory.

Side note: I am aware that the ethnicity of the Xiongnu has been widely contested and hypothesised among scholars and historians. There are quite a few scholars who insist on the Xiongnu being of Mongolic origin. For hetalias sake, I’ll accept them as Mongolic. Remember, I am not a historian, this is for hetalia purposes.

By 48 AD, the Xiongnu were weakened and were divided into Northern and Southern parts. The Northern Xiongnu migrating to the West and creating what was known as the Hunnic empire.

The Xiongnu, now weakened, meant that the Xianbei could come back to bite them in their asses. The Xianbei were the Northern branch of the Donghu, a people who were conquered/subjugated by the Xiongnu, one of the first in fact. The Donghu were a proto-Mongolic group that Chinese historians recorded as existing as early as the 4th century BC.

From then on, different factions/branches of the Xianbei would go on to consolidate their power in Mongolia as well as Central/Northern Asia. For example, the Tuoba established the Tuoba Wei empire and ruled over Northern China from 386 AD-535 AD. Another branch off of the Xianbei, the Rourans, established a nomadic empire in this area too.

I’ve already talked about how scholars/historians have contested the ethnic background of the Xiongnu. It is the same with the Xianbei, but less so. Many historians agree on the fact that they were Mongolic/spoke a Mongolic language with Turkic influences. For hetalias sake and for simplicitys sake, I will accept them as Mongolic.

I like to think that both the Xiongnu and the Xianbei were Mongolic (not without Turkic influence) and were major predecessors to the Mongolia we all know and love today. However let me just say, that nation family trees are very complicated, and nations are not born in the traditional sense of two parents, so me saying that these two were major predecessors isn’t me trying to pin them as like. His dad’s or something. A new nation or representative of a nation can be “born” for a plethora of reasons.

I would like to get onto the subject of pre-destination in hetalia as I feel like it is relevant to this part of my essay where I will slowly begin to justify why I believe Mongolia is old.

If a (potential) successor/successors emerge from a nation, or combination of nations, does this mean that the previous nations fate is already set in stone? That their demise was destined to happen?

It’s not a secret that a successor can exist at the same time as their predecessor, even long before the predecessor is weakening. For example, Hima released official art of Ancient Egypt holding a much younger “modern” Egypt. In addition, there’s lots of fanart of mama Britannia with little England, so successors co-existing with their predecessors seems to be something that it widely accepted in the hetalia fandom.

My own view on the predestination hetalia theory is mixed but largely positive. I believe that not all new potential successors who emerge will be the true successor in the end. They could just be smaller, failed states who won’t last very long. And considering the history of the world I’m sure there were a lot of these.

But. When it comes to the true successors, the ones who come out on top, and who emerge the most stable/prevalent/powerful? I personally believe that they can crop up long before they get to that powerful state, and again, can co-exist with their predecessors, even if the predecessors are not weakened yet. And considering how powerful the Mongol Empire was, how it overshadows all previous steppe Empires, and the fact that Mongolia is still around today? You can guess where this is going.

Some scholars speculate that the intermarriage between Xiongnu and Xianbei may have been the genesis of modern (?) Mongolians. Indeed, the Xianbei, after kicking the Xiongnu’s asses, encouraged intermarriage between themselves and the Xiongnu, even with the Chinese. However Xianbei nobility was restricted to only Xiongnu in terms of intermarriage.

Furthermore, it is the consensus of most historians that the Mongols of Genghis Khan were descendants of a peripheral Xianbei branch, the Shiwei.

So, the Xianbei/Donghu, or in hetalia terms, aph Xianbei/Donghu, was more of a major predecessor to aph Mongolia than aph Xiongnu was. Once the Xianbei defeated the Xiongnu (wasn’t just the Xianbei, the Chinese had enough of them and conducted an ethnic genocide against them) what was left of them was absorbed into the Xianbei state/identity, thus being a part of Mongolias identity.

Indeed, there are many cultural similarities between the Xiongnu and the Mongols. Such as the composite bow, gers, and the long song. The Long Song and its origin is mentioned in the book of Wei, and is believed to date back at least 2000 years.

Because of everything I’ve just said, I personally headcanon Mongolia as first emerging as, seemingly, one of these small/destined to fail Donghu/Xianbei states, who was pretty much ignored by his predecessors for the most part during this period as they probably looked at him and thought “oh look another rando kid who won’t be around in half a century lol ignore him”. So he was passed around from family to family who didn’t know what to do with him as he just wouldn’t age. However, facial wise, as a child, he did kind of look a bit like the Xiongnu/Xianbei (others too but this was a little more noticeable). Xianbei, being ruled over by the Xiongnu at this time, probably noticed this and felt a bit uneasy around him. So Xianbei ignoring him was a mixture of “random failed wannabe state who won’t be here for long lol” and “omg this kid is foreshadowing total Xiongnu dominance over my people”.

Xiongnu, on the other hand, was probably greatly amused by Mongolias existance as they ruled over the Xianbei at the time, and seeing this kid translated to them as “lol the Xianbei are fucked”.

Soon it became apparent that it was actually the Xiongnu who were fucked when the Xianbei rebelled in 93 AD. This wasn’t the complete end of the Xiongnu but it was the beginning of the end (they did their very best to hold on). Again, I’m not saying that these two were the only predecessors to Mongolia and this certainly isn’t supposed to be a completely accurate historical text, this is me trying to justify a hetalia headcanon LMAO.

As time went on, I think subsequent rulers of the steppe began to realise that “oh wait, why is he [Mongolia] still here oh that’s weird” so at that point they began to view him with more significance despite the fact he was aging slowly, even by nation standards, and so allowed him to stay with the family of nobility rather than random families.

He did get stronger over time but there was still that consistent illness that was about him. A lot happened between his “birth” and the unification of the Mongol tribes under Genghis Khan, but the unification of the Mongol tribes is what made that sickness go away altogether and gave him a major growth spurt (why I headcanon him as tall). He truly felt in control of himself as his identity was truly consolidated at this point.

So yeah he emerged sometime during the late-ish BC period (I’m sorry I know that sounds vague) and was seen as just some random small state and so his identity was definitely not all there yet and yes it obviously developed throughout the years. The growing pains must have sucked lol.

Also random but another reason why I like the Xiongnu/Mongolia cultural influence link is from influence from other hetalia creators. @absolvtely-barbaric on tumblr has influenced me. I liked the fact that Xiongnu gave his “sons” cheek scars to teach them a lesson about endurance, and @pearlescentplums draws him with a cheek scar (and a lip scar) and the way they draw him is Canon in my head sorry <33 I’m not sure how I headcanon how Mongolia got his scars yet but. I like it being there as a nod to previous rulers of the steppe, so now I’m headcanoning that aph Xianbei (?) also had a lip scar LMAO.

Aph Mongolia by @pearlescentplums and yes he looks like this to me in my head

I highly doubt Mongolia can remember much of his very early life which probably frustrates him to no end. The fact that it was so long ago and the fact that he did not have a strong identity/sense of identity also didn’t help with memory retention. He remembers some voices and distinct silhouettes but other than that, not a lot.

So, this is why I hc him as being old. I’m not a historian and I did write a lot of this at like 4 am hahah, I’ve had to take a lot of liberties too as the history of steppe people is quite obscure plus I am not an expert on this subject so I tried my best. This is just my personal headcanon and it’s completely fine if you disagree with it!! I'm sorry in advance if I've gotten some dates wrong or if this is hard to follow <3

#hetalia #aph mongolia #hws mongolia #Hetalia mongolia #hetalia world twinkle #hetalia world stars #hetalia world series #Aph Russia #Hetalia russia #Hws russia #Aph china #Hws china #Hetalia china #Aph Xiongnu #Hws Xiongnu #Hetalia Xiongnu #Aph xianbei #Hws xianbei #Hetalia xianbei #Aph Egypt #Hws egypt #Hetalia Egypt #Aph prussia #Hws prussia #Hetalia prussia #hidekaz himaruya #Himaruya #Aph asia #Aph east asia #Hetalia asia

[half-raw-child]

An Obituary to Ramy

——A Review of R. F. Kuang's Babel

Ramiz Mirza. Ramy to friends.

He dazzled and he stung. His wit and pride, sharp as a blade, were wielded to bring laughter, wonder, respect, discord, uncomfortable truths. Lie, Ramiz. Hide, Ramiz. Underneath his quips, disguise and all, he held tight to his faith in Allah.

He was the one person the quartet could not afford to lose; yet he died at the once loved and trusted hand. Grief and rage followed, then the revolution. When does violence become necessary? To Robin, this was when.

In Babel, or the Necessity of Violence, a 19th-century story set in Oxford, England, Ramiz Mirza from Calcutta is prominently relevant to the demographic makeup of the quartet of main characters. The story starts with Robin in a port of Canton, where the Qing Dynasty drew its last wretched breath before the storm of British colonization. While the Qing and the British company still traded in peace, the latter’s presence had turned malicious on the Indian subcontinent, marked by The Permanent Settlement of Bengal in 1793. The downfall of Oriental civilizations, along with the parasitic relationships with the colonizers (or, ‘patrons’), would later weave a bond between Robin and Ramy, settling them in the irreconcilable differences that colored their faces. And while Robin, being half-white, could pass as normal, Ramy’s brown body (in a gown!) was glaringly laughable. As Babel gradually revealed its viciousness, and as the British Empire kept gorging on foreign lands, a boy from India, the beloved jewel in the British crown, was bound to bear the brunt.

Worse still, Ramy was Muslim – for what are the charms of India but spices, textiles, the Ramayana, the Upanishads? What is the use of expedition, if the hunt for a more exotic Orient landed in somewhere that resembled Persia and the Ottoman, which had been readily relegated to the category of ‘Near East?’ The Persian blood that ran through the Mughal court made the Mughal Empire an aberration, an intrusion upon the ‘sacred’ tradition of Hinduism which was often equated with India. But Ramy, who had faith in the glory of his family and his God, would do anything to defend the pride of his Islamic-Indian identity. He and Letty rowed about this all the time; there could be no mutual understanding between the two parties with their self-absorbing traumas and antagonistic stances. Yet Letty, their English rose Letty, was the only white he could open this argument with. Knowing she was difficult, however, he had not meant to hide from her – never evaded or flinched, even when she clicked the trigger.

I was anticipating him and Letty falling in love, as Ron and Hermione did in Hogwarts. But with the loaded historical-political message on each character and the tensions among them, R. F. Kuang knew better than to resort to the tacky, stale trope of two love-birds getting together despite all their thorns and differences. In fact, one can tell that Kuang, before several tipping points, cleanly steered her narratives away from romance, accentuating instead of reconciling their angry individualities after a flood of emotions. Even when it turned out (I didn’t penetrate this until I read it the third time) that Ramy and Robin were the most likely pair among the four, the narrative’s high pace hurried them to the next conflict without exploding into further revelations. Restrained yet sometimes violent, those undercurrents were packed into their intertwined fates as they were too exhausted just to survive Babel. It serves the narrative.

Partly for the thrill of suspense, the story proceeds with a predominant focus on Robin’s point of view, which makes readers howl and moan about why the close-ups of other characters haven’t come to them earlier. It’s fair given the gripping effect; but if given more parts and spotlight, the others would surely stand more rounded and endearing to readers. Take Ramy – how painfully did he wade through every minute of the Sunday services in a Christian church? How did he manage to worship his Allah? Was there a moment when, the torn division between his façade and identity brought him to a near collapse, just as Robin’s faltering reminiscent of Hamlet? The whole picture of Ramy is broken and scattered as puzzle pieces throughout the footnotes; it’ll take another sequel to put them all in place. Kuang has made the point, again:  to write an alternate history is to give representations, retrieve memories, subvert powers, and essentially, to approach truths. The painful yet necessary truths.

But Ramy, dear old Ramy.    

#literature #language #academia #libraries

[freddiemercurydaily]

12 January 1964 - Freddie Bulsara and his family fled their home on Zanzibar Island due to political change and relocated to Feltham, near LondonHe was born Farrokh BulsaraFreddie Bulsara was born in Zanzibar's Government Hospital on 5 September 1946. His parents Bomi and Jer Bulsara were Parsees - followers of the Zoroastrian religion whose ancestors came from Persia - but they had lived in India.Bomi Bulsara came from Bulsar in Gujarat - hence the family name - and moved to Zanzibar to work in the High Court as a cashier for the British government.He married Jer in India and brought her back to Zanzibar. Farrokh, their first born, was followed six years later by a daughter, Karishma.Freddie's first cousin, Perviz Darunkhanawala, has said that the family had lived a fairly affluent life considering Bomi's civil servant wage.  They lived in a comfortable flat overlooking the sea in Stone Town, the historic part of Zanzibar city, with its maze of narrow alleyways lined with shops, houses, bazaars and mosques. As well as domestic workers, they also had a nanny called Sabine.His first years of schooling were at the Zanzibar Missionary School, where he was taught by Anglican nuns.

 But at the age of eight, his parents decided to send him to school in India.  He went to St Peter's Church of England school in Panchgani, a former British Raj hill station south-east of what was then Bombay (Mumbai).  Despite being a church school, St Peter's welcomed children of all faiths and Mercury was a fully practising Zoroastrian during his time there.  It was during free time spent with his aunt and grandparents in Bombay that he discovered and indulged a growing love of music. He also formed his first band with friends, The Hectics.Freddie returned to Zanzibar in 1963 - the year it gained independence from Britain - and completed his last years of education at the Roman Catholic St Joseph's Convent School.  In 1964, a revolution overthrew the ruling Arab elite, and as many as 17,000 people were killed.  A republic was then established with the presidents of Zanzibar and Tanganyika, on the mainland, signing an act of union. They formed the United Republic of Tanzania with Zanzibar having semi-autonomous status.The Bulsara family, along with many others, fled the islands.The family moved to 22 Gladstone Avenue, a semi-detached home, in Feltham, west London in 1964 after leaving Zanzibar.  Freddie was seventeen years old.  They chose the area because Jer had a sister who already lived in Feltham.Mercury lived there on-and-off until about 1970. He crashed at various London flats between 1966 and 1969 while he studied for a Diploma in Graphic Art and Design at Ealing College and took various jobs to support himself, including washing dishes in the kitchens of Heathrow Airport, just a stone’s throw from Gladstone Avenue.Mercury’s mother, Jer Bulsara, recalls her son writing music during this time:“He used to write all his music before going to college, put it under the pillow and [tell] me not to remove any of the bits from underneath.”It was at Ealing College that he was introduced to the band Smile, whose members included Brian May on guitar and Roger Taylor on drums. At the unveiling of Mercury’s plaque, May, who also grew up in Feltham, recalled visiting Freddie at number 22:He had a Dansette record player and I distinctly remember him putting a Jimi Hendrix record on. He said ‘Listen to this, this is what we have to do!’ And I said to him, ‘Well, can you sing?’When Smile split up in 1970, Queen was born.Freddie’s sister, Kashmira Cooke said, “He secretly would have been very proud and pleased" to receive the honour.Yet everything was not straight forward for the family."The house had no central heating... We were not familiar with coal fires and had to be shown how to light it," Kashmira Cooke said.She said her brother spent much of the time in the house "sketching for his college art work" and "listening to music, particularly Jimi Hendrix"."He spent hours in the bathroom grooming his hair. At the time I wasn't best pleased as there was only one bathroom," she said.

#freddie mercury #candids

[jeannereames]

hi, dr. reames I was reading the above post and was struck by the fact that at one point, you commented that Alexandros was becoming increasingly disappointed with the land he conquered, but I can't help but wonder why he was disappointed? what did he expect to happen? I am very curious.

Alexander suffered from Conqueror’s Disease; today, we might say Colonialist Disease. He couldn’t understand why the people he conquered didn’t welcome him with open arms.

I don’t want to make this overly modern, so I’d point out the Persians he conquered had suffered from similar, although not every imperialist nation did. The Assyrians, for instance, didn’t care too much whether they were loved by those they conquered. They just wanted them to bow their necks.

Much has to do with the mythos—the narrative—the conquering people tell themselves.

Conquest was the way of things in the ancient world, where cultures were almost universally ethnocentric, dominated by a “Center-Periphery” mentality. Culture was the Center. The further from the center, the more alien, weird, and barbaric. Remember, barbaros was simply the Greek word for “not a Greek.” Barbaroi came in flavors both civilized and uncivilized (per the Greek view), but celebrating cultural diversity was not something ancient people did—no, not even Alexander.

That’s one of the problems with so many modern reads on him. He could be curious about other cultures, even enjoy and respect aspects of them--but he’d still be inclined to place them in a hierarchy, because that was the Greek worldview: “men … de.” On the one hand this…on the other hand that. The “men” is always superior to the “de.” For the Greeks, this hierarchy was typically understood in pairs (occasionally triads). So free…slave, men…women, Greek…barbarian, my-city-state…your-city-state, etc. Being curious about The Other didn’t mean treating them as an equal.

Alexander was, I think, better than average at understanding how other people thought. It’s what made him a good strategist. He could out-think, and therefore psych-out, his opponent. But again, that doesn’t mean he regarded The Other as his equal. His society had predisposed him to respect Egypt (to a point), and also Persia (to a point), but the more alien the areas he invaded, the more difficult that became. And even respect still didn’t mean considering them equal to Greeks (or Macedonians).

Let’s go back to the narratives of empire these various cultures told themselves.

True imperialism in the Meso-ANE basin arrived with the iron age. Before that, no regional state was strong enough to fully dominate far-flung neighbors. Yet Neo-Assyria, particularly Tiglath-Pileser III forward, turned previous “hunting grounds” into true provinces, getting as far as Egypt and Elam. Then came neo-Babylon, Achaemenid Persia, Alexander, Hellenistic Kingdoms, Rome, the Sassanids…etc. However, as noted, the Sargonids of neo-Assyrian didn’t give a rat’s ass if those they conquered liked them or not. Terror was state policy. Neo-Babylon did the same.

Cyrus changed that. He framed himself as a kinder, gentler overlord. Assyria might have ruled immense lands, but they’d also faced near-continual rebellion due to the harshness of their hold. Babylon had followed suit. Cyrus decided to flip the script, at least in the central areas. He was especially keen to be invited into Babylon, not take the city by force (probably as, for the time, its walls made it virtually untakable). Some of this “Kinder, Gentler Overlord” business was pure propaganda. I doubt Croesus considered Cyrus kinder or gentler. Nor did the Greek cities of the Asia Minor coast. And Cyrus lost his head (literally), trying to bring the steppe peoples to heel. That said, Persia created a narrative of consent to rule. “Blips” continued. Egypt regarded the Persians as snot-nosed upstarts and periodically rebelled, as did Asia Minor. Plus, areas along the Indus were only nominally under Persian control. At the center, however, the Persians (mostly) delivered on their promises to make life better via roads, trade, and protection from bandits—not unlike Rome later.

Nonetheless, as inheritor of prior ANE kingdoms, Persia adapted notions of what it meant to rule an empire, mixed with a healthy dose of their own ethnocentrism. A glass ceiling kept non-Persians from the highest offices, and the throne. Only a pure Persian could be mother to the next king. So although Greeks saw themselves as superior to barbaroi like the Persians, even civilized barbaroi, Persians felt the same in reverse. That’s important to recall.

The Greeks formed a different narrative of themselves. Although their culture owed no small amount to Lydia, Assyria, Phoenicia, Cyprus, Persia, and Egypt, after the Greco-Persian Wars, they developed a story of Greek Exceptionalism. They’d sent the mighty Persian Empire yelping home, tail between its legs! How did they do that? They were FREE MEN fighting the servile soldiers of a tyrant king, of course. They began to think of themselves as if they’d leapt grown and fully armed, like Athena, from the head of Zeus.

Of course the Greeks invented some cool stuff, of which I think critical reasoning is probably their most substantial gift in the west. Yet they very much wanted to make themselves out to be the Holders of True Culture, in contrast to the East. What they owed the ANE was downplayed, and A Little Thing Called Democracy led them (or at least Athens) to frame Greek freedom (eleutheria!) against the “tyranny” of Persia. This is more propaganda than reality, but it was picked up by the intelligentsia elite, not just politicians, and spread down even to the common farmer in the fields.

Alexander was an inheritor of this portrait. Philip had manipulated it to his own advantage with, I think, fairly clear eyes about the fact he was a king who planned to “liberate” the cities of Asia Minor from the “tyranny” of another king. Yet Alexander had been a student of Aristotle and was young enough to buy into the vision.

I don’t want to paint Alexander as unduly naïve, however. He was a king’s son and had no intention of turning Macedon into a democracy. Yet I think, to some degree, he believed his father’s marketing and assumed all the cities of Asia Minor wanted to be free of Persia. So, the resistance of Halikarnassos, et al., baffled him. For Halikarnassos, he chalked it up to an illegitimate king, rather than Ada, as rightful ruler. Tyre frustrated him yet again, but he saw them as opportunists. Gaza was run by a eunuch, not a “real” man….

Then—finally!—Egypt welcomed him with open arms! Their savior from the terrible, no-good, awful Persians! They knew how to flatter him, and had elected to choose their overlord; they knew he’d go away soon, and he seemed awed enough by the antiquity of their culture to treat them better than the Persians had…or at least he played it well on TV. 😉 The reality of his appointees’ handling of Egyptian affairs was less rosy. Kleomenes of Naukratis was apparently a monster and Alexander did nothing to fix it.

Babylon would also voluntarily submit to him, after the Battle of Gaugamela—in large part because Mazeus wanted to remain satrap of such a rich region. But, again, it played to Alexander’s expectations. Babylon, like Egypt, had wanted to be free of Persian tyranny! Of course they'd welcome Alexander as their savior. Susa resisted, but not that hard.

Persepolis was another story, but also a very specific case. He needed to send a message to Greece of “Mission Accomplished”—so he burned it. He was still at war with Persia at that point, Darius still alive. But later, after Darius’s murder and his own adoption of at least partial Persian ceremonial as part of his “King of All Asia” Schtick, he seemed puzzled as to why the Persians continued to resist him. That was then, this is now! I’m willing to treat you as my (almost) equals and share (somewhat) the rule over your own kingdom. Aren’t you glad?

Let me give a modern parallel. The average non-native American doesn’t get why American Indians, especially those from the plains, really hate Mount Rushmore. They tend to say things like, “But isn’t it an engineering marvel?” or “It honors our greatest presidents!” or “But you’re carving your own version with Crazy Horse!” (Yes, maybe as an answer to you jackasses who started messing with sacred land in the first place.)

The backstory that most don’t understand is that the Paha Sapa (Black Hills) are sacred land stolen for gold, which the US government then decided to carve with big white faces in the heart of Lakota land. It’s a gigantic Fuck You to Indian people that became a national park whose visitors tell us “to just get over it already.” As for those “great” presidents? Yeah, maybe Lincoln got the 15th Amendment passed, but he also gave away tons of native land—and go read up on the Dakota 38 he had executed. He looks a little less heroic. Ol’ Jefferson started the Indian Removal Act that Jackson would later implement, and Washington, when Indians inconveniently didn’t want to sell their land so the fledging US could move west, set about to “extirpate” them (his word). And oh, Teddy, yeah, he instituted National Parks, a number of which are direct steals of native sacred land (like the Paha Sapa). The only way that monument could be MORE insulting to indigenous America would have been to put Andrew Jackson up there too.

Alexander’s burning of Persepolis was an ancient Mount Rushmore. And he was just as confused that the Persians didn’t want to forgive him even years later.

As Alexander went forward from the spring of 330, this disconnect between how he thought peoples ought to welcome him, and how they actually did, just got worse—especially as he moved into areas only tangentially under Persian control.

The people he conquered didn’t welcome conquest, nor did they want his “civilizing,” thank you very much. Alexander hadn’t really tried to impose Greek culture on Egypt, nor Babylon, nor Persia. In fact, Alexander used both Egyptian and Persian royal style to help legitimize his reign as King of Asia. But who were these Baktrian barbaroi, and Sogdians…and Indians? Can’t they see our superior ways and submit to join the Grand Asian Empire of Alexander? When this generous offer is rejected—because the invader isn’t regarded as All That by the invaded—it’s a shock to the system of perceived privilege.

This is what I mean by Conqueror’s/Colonialist Disease. And the more successful Alexander became, the worse it got. He was thrilled when people trembled at the sound of his name, and then submitted. It was proof of his superiority. Early in his career, he was still involved in proving it, but by the time he’d reached India, resistance wasn’t a challenge, it was an insult. How dare they?

This is why he grew increasingly disillusioned and cynical. He was not being welcomed in the way he’d imagined. It led him to become increasingly vicious until terror became state policy for him, as well.

#Alexander the Great #ancient Macedonia #ancient Persia #ancient Egypt #Neo-Assyria #colonialist attitudes #ethnocentrism #Mount Rushmore #burning Persepolis #Alexander the Great in India #asks

[lawful-evil-novelist]

So since @roadakamelot, @bleuberrygliscor, and @this-was-a-fandom-blog-once all on some level asked about the Gothic Supernatural Western OCs I wrote up some short summaries.

So the story concept doesn't have a name and most of the characters don't have one.  The premise is demons came over with European settlers and wealthy Americans and sometimes communities that pool together enough money now hire out demon hunters to take care of infestations, and the cast of OCs are all demon hunters.  It’s set in the southwest around Southern California and the Four Corners area.

The Medium: This is so far one of the two named characters: Trinidad.  He's also the oldest character, a young Mojave adult linked by a curse to a Nahua spirit after burning down the mission that killed his parents.  Because they come from different cultures and worlds they know very little about each other and only have one common language: Spanish.  They’re still friends but Trinidad doesn’t even know if the spirit was a person once, not all spirits are dead people.

The Omen: This is the other character with a name: Blackbird or Asiginaak as is his name in Anishinaabe.  He’s an Ojibwe demon hunter with a bit of a negative reputation because he likes rooting out the source of the demon infestation along with the demons themselves, which usually means disposing of one community leader or the other.  He doesn’t actually care if this gives him a bad reputation by the way.

The Ronin: This is the samurai I mentioned before.  Turns out being able to use a sword makes you a pretty prime candidate for demon killing, and no one expects a guy to roll up in cowboy gear carrying a sword.  Of the cast he’s probably got the best reputation but that’s because he’s very polite.  Three people on this list are from cultures where “I’m going to swear at you affectionately” is just part of the lexicon and three do not actually care if their rich settler clients think they’re an asshole.

The Daroga: So while this is a term referring to an official kinda like a police officer, the term is used in the novel by people hiring demon hunters to refer to ones from Persia.  This particular demon hunter isn’t a daroga, but the specifics don’t matter to the people paying and this guy’s stopped bothering trying to correct them.  He’s by all accounts the second most experienced with hunting demons, with Trinidad being the first.

The Witch: A young woman from the Russian Empire, as her title suggests she’s of a magical sort and as her origin suggests she’s about as tough as nails as they come.  I should clarify starting with her that demon hunters are hired regardless of gender, because really their clients don’t care about their safety they just want to keep up appearances.

The Oracle: Originally a fortune teller from New Orleans, the Oracle picked up demon hunting after having a run-in with a demon herself.  She’s the least experienced of the main cast but that doesn’t mean she’s bad at it, it just means she’s got the lowest head count.  The Oracle is also a medium in her own way but doesn’t have any cool spirits attached to her like Trinidad.

The Fair Folk: Is she actually a Faerie?  Yes she is in fact actually an Irish Fair Folk, she’s a dullahan.  Yes, she is actively an asshole to everyone and borders on being just as bad as the demons they’re hunting minus the indiscriminate murder.  Yes, she has the worst reputation of the whole cast, even Blackbird.  She’s wonderful and an absolute nightmare and will open fights by removing her head and chucking it at her target.

They’re all on varying levels of the chaotic spectrum because you need to be a certain level of out of your entire mind to provoke demons (and also deal with the absurdly wealthy people that definitely attracted them and are now dealing with the consequences of their own actions).

#ocs #my ocs #original characters #gothic western #supernatural western #western #original character #original fiction #writing stuff #my writing

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&Reading: Thursday, May 18, 2023

may 18_may 5

THE HOLY GREAT-MARTYTR IRENE OF THESSALONICA (1st-2nd c.)

The holy Great Martyr Irene was born in Magedon in Persia during the fourth century. She was the daughter of Licinius, the pagan ruler of a particular small kingdom, and his wife Licinia, and at birth, her parents named her Penelope.

Penelope was very beautiful, and her father kept her isolated in a high tower from when she was six so she would not be exposed to Christianity. He also placed thirteen young maidens in the tower with her. An old tutor named Apellian was appointed to give her the best possible education. Apellian was a Christian, and during her lessons, he told the girl about Christ the Savior and taught her about the Christian Faith and virtues.

When Penelope reached adolescence, her parents began to think about her marriage. One night Penelope beheld the following vision: a dove entered the tower with an olive branch in its beak, depositing it on the table. An eagle also flew in carrying a wreath of flowers and left it on the table. Then a raven flew in through another window and dropped a snake on the table. In the morning, Penelope woke up and wondered about the meaning of what she had seen. She related them to her tutor Apellian, and he explained that the dove symbolized her superior education and that the olive branch represented the grace of God which is received in Baptism. The eagle and the olive branch indicated success in her future life. The snake signified that she would experience suffering and sorrow.

At the end of the conversation, Apellian said that the Lord wished to betroth her to Himself and that Penelope would suffer much for her heavenly Bridegroom. After this Penelope refused marriage, was baptized by the priest Timothy, and he named her Irene (peace). She even urged her own parents to become Christians. Shortly after being baptized, she smashed all her father’s idols.

Since Saint Irene had dedicated herself to Christ, she refused to marry any of the suitors her father had chosen for her. When Licinius learned that his daughter refused to worship the pagan gods, he was furious. He attempted to turn her from Christ by having her tortured. She was tied up and thrown beneath the hooves of wild horses so that they might trample her to death, but the horses remained motionless. Instead of harming the saint, one of the horses charged Licinius, seized his right hand and tore it from his arm. Then it knocked Licinius down and began to trample him to death. This caused a great deal of confusion among the people there but Irene consoled them with the words of Christ: “All things are possible to the one who believes” (Mark 9: 23). And indeed, with wondrous faith, she prayed, and through her prayers, Licinius rose unharmed in the presence of many eyewitnesses with his hand intact. Then, Licinius and his wife were baptized as Christians, along with almost 3000 others who turned away from the worship of inanimate idols. Licinius abandoned his domain and lived in the tower he had built for his daughter. There he spent the rest of his life in repentance.

Saint Irene lived in the house of her teacher Apellian, and she began to preach Christ among the pagans, leading them to the path of salvation.

When Sedekias (Yesdegerd), the new prefect of the city, heard of the miracles performed by the saint, he summoned Apellian and questioned him about Irene’s manner of life. Apellian replied that Irene, like other Christians, lived in strict temperance, devoting herself to constant prayer and reading holy books. Sedekias summoned the saint and urged her to stop preaching about Christ. He also attempted to force her to sacrifice to the idols. Saint Irene staunchly confessed her faith before the prefect, not fearing his wrath, and prepared to undergo suffering for Christ. By order of Sedekias she was thrown into a pit filled with vipers and serpents. The saint spent ten days in the pit and remained unharmed, for an angel of the Lord protected her and brought her food. Sedekias ascribed this miracle to sorcery, and he subjected Saint Irene to many other tortures, but she remained unharmed. Under the influence of her preaching and miracles even more people were converted to Christ, and turned away from the worship of inanimate idols.

Sedekias was deposed by his son Sapor, who persecuted Christians with even greater zeal than his father had done. Saint Irene went to her home town of Magedon in Persia to meet Sapor and his army and ask him to end the persecution. When he refused, Saint Irene prayed and his entire army was blinded. She prayed again, and they received their sight once more. Despite this, Sapor refused to recognize the power of God. Because of his insolence, he was struck and killed by a bolt of lightning.

After this, Saint Irene walked into the city and performed many miracles. She returned to the tower built by her father, accompanied by the priest Timothy. Through her teaching, she converted five thousand people to Christ.

Next, the saint went to Callinicus, or Callinicum (possibly on the Euphrates River in Syria). The ruler of that place was King Numerian, the son of Sebastian. When she began to teach about Christ, she was arrested and tortured by the pagan authorities. They enclosed her inside three bronze oxen, one after another, which were heated until they were red-hot. When the Great Martyr was placed within the third ox, it began to walk about and split asunder. Saint Irene emerged from it as if from the fires of hell. This resulted in thousands of souls converting to the faith of Christ.

Sensing the approach of death, Numerian instructed his eparch Babdonus to continue torturing the saint to force her to sacrifice to idols. Once again, the tortures were ineffective, and many people turned to Christ.

Christ’s holy martyr then traveled to Constantina, forty miles northeast of Edessa. By 330, the Persian king Sapor II (309-379) had heard of Saint Irene’s great miracles. She was arrested, beheaded, and then buried to prevent her from winning more people to Christ. However, God sent an angel to raise her again, and she went into Mesembria. After seeing her alive and hearing her preach, the local king was baptized with many of his subjects.

Wishing to convert even more pagans to Christianity, Saint Irene went to Ephesus, where she taught the people and performed many miracles. The Lord revealed to her that the end of her life was approaching. Then Saint Irene left the city accompanied by six people, including her former teacher Apellian. On the outskirts of the town, she found a new tomb in which no one had ever been buried. After making the Sign of the Cross, she went inside, directing her companions to seal the entrance to the cave with a large stone, which they did. She also told them that that no one should move the stone until four days had passed.

Apellian returned after only two days and found that the stone had been rolled away and the tomb was empty. There are conflicting accounts about her holy relics being taken to Constantinople and other places, including Patras, Samos, and Patmos. According to the Western Martyrologies, Saint Irene was martyred in Thessaloniki after being thrown into the fire. At the same time, according to the Menologion of Emperor Basil II, Saint Irene completed her martyric contest by being beheaded.

Saint Irene led thousands of people to Christ through her preaching and by her example. The Church continues to honor her memory and to seek her heavenly intercession. She is invoked by those wishing to effect a swift and happy marriage. In Greece, she is also the patron saint of policemen. Saint Irene is also one of the twelve Virgin Martyrs who appeared to Saint Seraphim of Sarov (January 2) and the Diveyevo nun Eupraxia on the Feast of the Annunciation in 1831. By her holy prayers, may the Lord be merciful and save us. Amen.

Fragments of Saint Irene's Holy Relics are located at Kykkos Monastery in Cyprus and in the Greek church of Saint George in Venice.

Source: Orthodox Church in America

St HILARY BISHOP OF ARLES (449)

“On this day, we celebrate the feast of St. Hilary of Arles. He was born about 403, and, at an early age, he joined Lérins, the monastery founded by his relative, St. Honoratus. Hilary succeeded Honoratus as abbot, and, in 429, as bishop of Arles. Bishop Hilary's famous clash with Pope Leo the Great came in 445 after Hilary deposed Celedonius, bishop of Besançon, for marrying a widow and, before his ordination, for having presided over a trial that ended with capital punishment. Celedonius appealed to Rome. Even though Pope Leo knew that Pope Zosimus's predecessor had granted primacy over Besançon to Arles, he quashed Hilary's ruling. "Archbishop Hilary, a person of austere and uncourtly address, took up his staff and traveled on foot to Rome amid winter. Leo received him with good humor, but Hilary abruptly declared that he had not traveled so far, and in such weather, to bandy words with the pope but simply to state the case of Celedonius as it really stood upon the facts proved and to warn the pontiff against flying in the face of all ecclesiastical law." Things went from bad to worse. Hilary "appears to have lost his temper and committed some contempt of the pontiff and his court that consigned him to ecclesiastical custody." But Hilary escaped his jailers and went home to Arles. Leo cut him off from communion with Rome. There were more sanctions, including an edict from the emperor, Valentinian III. St. Hilary was no match for St. Leo, who later would stand up to Atilla the Hun. "When we come to the reign of Pope Leo I (440-61) we reach one of the momentous turning points in the history of the papacy. By common consent of historians, Leo was one of the greatest ecclesiastical statesmen and deservedly surnamed 'the Great.' At a time when the world was cracking at the seams, Leo stood forth as a Pope of commanding character and genius who dramatically and successfully asserted the supreme authority of the papacy. . . . he formulated a doctrine of papal primacy that was to weather all storms and guide the policy of all subsequent Popes. According to Leo, Peter was 'the Rock' on which the Lord built his Church; his successors, the Popes, were merely his temporary mystical personifications. . . . Leo not only enunciated this grandiose theory of papal primacy but also . . . made its claims good. . . . he frustrated the attempt to create an independent Gallic see in Arles--even going so far as to strip the saintly Hilary of his metropolitan authority there." St. Hilary died in 449.”

Source: National Catholic Reporter

ACTS 14:20-27

20 However, when the disciples gathered around him, he rose up and entered the city. And the next day, he departed with Barnabas to Derbe. 21 And when they had preached the gospel to that city and made many disciples, they returned to Lystra, Iconium, and Antioch, 22 strengthening the souls of the disciples, exhorting them to continue in the faith, and saying, "We must through many tribulations enter the kingdom of God." 23 So when they had appointed elders in every church and prayed with fasting, they commended them to the Lord in whom they had believed. 24 And after they had passed through Pisidia, they came to Pamphylia. 25 When they preached the word in Perga, they went down to Attalia. 26 From there, they sailed to Antioch, where they were commended to God's grace for the work they had completed. 27 When they gathered the church together, they reported all that God had done with them and that He had opened the door of faith to the Gentiles.

JOHN 9:39-10:9

39 And Jesus said, "For judgment, I have come into this world, that those who do not see may see, and that those who see may be made blind." 40 Then some of the Pharisees with Him heard these words and said to Him, "Are we blind also?" 41 Jesus told them, "If you were blind, you would have no sin; but now you say, 'We see.' Therefore your sin remains.

1 Most assuredly, I say to you, he who does not enter the sheepfold by the door, but climbs up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber. 2 But he who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. 3 To him, the doorkeeper opens, and the sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4 And when he brings out his sheep, he goes before them; the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. 5 Yet they will not follow a stranger but flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers. 6 Jesus used this illustration, but they needed help understanding what He spoke to them. 7 Then Jesus said to them again, "Most assuredly, I say to you, I am the door of the sheep. 8 All who came before Me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not hear them. 9 I am the door. If anyone enters by Me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture.

#orthodoxy #orthodoxchristianity #easternorthodoxchurch #originofchristianity #spirituality #holyscriptures #bible #gospel wisdom

[troybeecham]

Today the Church remembers SS. Simeon Barsabae, Bishop of Seleucid-Ctesiphon in Persia, and Companions, Martyrs.

Orate pro nobis.

St. Simeon suffered during a persecution against Christians under the Persian emperor Sapor II (310-381 AD). They accused the saint of collaborating with the Roman Empire and of subversive activities against the Persian emperor.

In the year 344 AD, the emperor issued an edict which imposed a heavy tax upon Christians. When some of them refused to pay it, this was regarded as an act of rebellion, so the emperor began a fierce persecution against Christians.

Saint Simeon was brought to trial in iron fetters as a supposed enemy of the Persian realm, together with the two martyr priests Abdhaikla and Hanania. The holy bishop would not even bow to the emperor, who asked why he would not show him the proper respect. The saint answered, “Formerly, I bowed because of your rank, but now, when you ask me to renounce my God and abandon my faith, it is not proper for me to bow to you.”

The emperor urged him to worship the sun, and he threatened to eradicate Christianity in his land if he refused. But neither urgings nor threats could shake the steadfast saint, and they led him off to prison. Along the way the eunuch Usphazanes, a counsellor of the emperor, saw the saint. He stood up and bowed to the bishop, but the saint turned away from him because he, a former Christian, out of fear of the emperor, now worshipped the sun.

The eunuch repented with all his heart, he exchanged his fine attire for coarse garb, and sitting at the doors of the court, he cried out bitterly, “Woe to me, when I stand before my God, from Whom I am cut off. Here was Simeon, and he has turned his back on me!”

The emperor Sapor learned about the grief of his beloved tutor and asked him what had happened. He told the emperor that he bitterly regretted his apostasy and would no more worship the sun, but only the one true God. The emperor was surprised at the old man’s sudden decision, and he urged him not to abjure the gods whom their fathers had reverenced. But Usphazanes was unyielding, and they condemned him to death. Saint Usphazanes asked that the city heralds report that he died not for crimes against the emperor, but for being a Christian. The emperor granted his request.

Saint Simeon also learned about the death of Usphazanes, and he gave thanks to the Lord. When they brought him before the emperor a second time, Saint Simeon again refused to worship the pagan gods and confessed his faith in Christ. The enraged emperor gave orders to behead all the Christians in the prison before the saint’s eyes.

Without fear the Christians went to execution, blessed by the holy hierarch, and they bent their heads beneath the sword. Saint Simeon’s companion, the Priest Habdelai, was also beheaded. When they came to the Priest Ananias, he suddenly trembled. Then one of the dignitaries, Saint Phusicus (Pusicius), a secret Christian, was afraid that Ananias would renounce Christ, and he cried out, “Do not fear the sword, Elder, and you will see the divine light of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Saint Phusicus betrayed himself by this outburst. The emperor gave orders to pluck out his tongue and to flay the skin off him. Along with Saint Phusicus, his daughter Askitrea was also martyred. Saint Simeon was the last to go before the executioner, and he placed his head on the chopping-block (April 13, 344 AD). Executions continued all during the holy week following the celebration of the Resurrection of Jesus until April 23.

Saint Azates the Eunuch, a close official to the emperor, also received the crown of martyrdom, along with Saints Abdechalas, Usthazanes, and Azades. The sources indicate that 1,150 Martyrs perished because they refused to accept the Persian religion.

Almighty God, who gave to your servants Simeon, Abdhaikla, Hanania, Usphazanes, Phusikas, Askitrea, and their Companions boldness to confess the Name of our Savior Jesus Christ before the rulers of this world, and courage to die for this faith: Grant that we may always be ready to give a reason for the hope that is in us, and to suffer gladly for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

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