#but I think even in a place like Secundus

[pb-dot]

WIP Character Introduction: Secundus Two

Happy WIP Wednesday y'all. Today I decided to go back to the character well for a spell. Today's character is one that is only introduced in the epilog of The Clockwork Boy, but considering how important I'm planning to make her later, I do believe it's time to share some fun facts about the second Clockman to be converted and the wild world of terrible ideas that happened to her.

Secundus Two is the Clockman that looks the part the least. Unlike her brethren, she keeps her blonde hair long, although it tends to get messy as she doesn't spend much time caring for it. Her clockwork body frame is also highly unusual. Thin and spindly in places, parts of her arms and legs bulge into drumlike cylinders at seemingly random intervals. Although it's not visible when she stands still, it doesn't take much movement for her to display her extra-flexible joints, which allows her to move in ways that are unusual or even uncanny for the average observer, and Two loves to indulge in this unnerving.

The work on Two started as soon as Creator learned the full possible extent of the degeneration of his fine motor skills. As such, he built Two more to be a servant and assistant to him, even including an ambitious but highly untested series of modifications that'd allow Two to expand her clockwork body and function as a mechanical exoskeleton to steady Creator's hands in the face of his worsening health. It did not take many dry runs to discover that it was difficult, bordering on impossible for Two to control these modifications properly, as there was no analog body control function she could map the new function to. Unfortunately for both Creator and Two, Creator both was and is a relentless taskmaster who brokes no challenge to his authority, and he resolved to make Two master these functions or break her in two trying.

At one point, Two broke, but not in the way Creator expected, or noticed right away. By the time she broke the arm of an assistant in Creator's workshop and the terrified journeyman told Creator his case wasn't the first, Creator started to realize his approach might have had unintended side effects.

Outwardly, Two seemed as normal as was expected of someone in her position, although signs of fracture were starting to show, odd perspectives, unusual requests, the odd spell of amplified emotion usually grief or rage. Creator soon abandoned the thought of bending Two to his will, although he could not find it in his heart to have her terminated like earlier failed experiments, whether this was part of some grander plan or merely a rare instance of soft-heartedness from the old man remains to be seen.

As such, Two exists as a kind of an organization of her own within the Clockmen. She technically responds to the authority of Creator, but her interpretation of her orders is often technically compliant but going against the spirit of the command. As such, Creator seldom trusts her with anything more prone to reinterpretation than relaying orders to her brethren. Two doesn't seem to mind, and it has in recent years had Creator thinking that she is playing some sort of long game on him.

Unlike One, Two never found comfort with her new numerical moniker, and eventually resolved to be called Secundus or Secundus Two. Given her strange position in the hierarchy of the Clockmen, her fellow Clockmen usually respects this decision. While Creator does emphatically not, he does not trust his position relative to his underlings to force the issue of her name with them.

Secundus Two is a bit of a wildcard in the story. Her role is initially as part sounding board for Creator, part unnerving court jester, but I plan for her to be more of a Greek chorus as the series develops, and as for her role in the finale, well, let's just say without spoiling she is highly relevant to both the circumstances and resolution of the climax.

If I'm going to be honest here, and I generally try to be, Secundus Two is probably the character in the plot I am the weariest of screwing up the writing of. Just the high concept of her mind being in tatters after being forced to try operating a body too alien for her brain to handle feels interesting and inspired by my own issues with dyspraxia, but also has the potential of getting kind of unsavory in what it says about humans and brains somehow, but I could not tell you exactly what angle I expect this problem to come from. If I could formulate exactly what about this bit that bothered me it'd perhaps be easier to avoid

It's also important for me to stick the landing with Two because she is slated to be, as mentioned earlier, very important for the conclusion of this whole tale. Her role as Independent on Account Of Being Too Weird To Subjugate is an interesting wrinkle to the strict authoritarianism of The Clockmen, and I intend to make the most out of it to get the endgame cooking, as well as a vector for commentary.

As for music inspiration, I do get a kind of She's A Big Boy energy from Secundus, and perhaps a touch of A Stranger I Remain from the Revengance soundtrack, as well as Narashite by Haru Nemuri and Carbon Dioxide by Fever Ray. Skunk by Thundersmack doesn't mirror her quite as perfectly, but the chaos of it certainly represents her just fine. The vibes for these tracks are all over the place, but that's just kind of how Secundus Two is.

tag list @ettawritesnstudies @mrbexwrites @teacupsandstarlight @anonymousfoz @wrenofthewords @sm-writes-chaos

If you want to be put on the Tag List for this project, please interact with my Tag List Post

#writing #writeblr #hearts in clockwork #the clockwork boy

[victorluvsalice]

Merry Christmas SatiricalDemon!

@thesatiricaldemon *waves* So you requested a fic about Daniel, Dommik, and N on an inter-dimensional vacation to one of my other fic verses...and the very first thing that came to mind was a follow up on a thread about a certain crystalline butterfly birthday present Dan sent to the Victors that my Secundus boy found very inspiring. XD So yeah, that's what you're getting. Hope you enjoy!

This Feels Like A Recipe For Disaster

“. . .and that allowed me to dampen the threat response! They still react if one of the flock gets injured, but it’s more of a ‘chase away the potential threat’ thing – they won’t try a full swarm unless you full-on shatter one of them.”

“Oh, excellent, excellent! And I see in your notes here you were looking to see if you could get different colors – I would imagine that if you added that lovely compound to the caterpillar mid-metamorphosis, you could get a truly acidic shade of green!”

“Maybe, but that also has a good chance of completely destabilizing the metamorphosis entirely. . .though I guess it’s all about how much I add. . .”

Alice looked over at the two, hunched over the main experimentation table in Victor’s greenhouse lab, and shook her head fondly. “I’m sorry, it sounds like they may be at this for a while,” she commented, turning back to their other two guests. “Victor was – very inspired by that little gift your Dr. Daniel sent along for his birthday.”

“So I can see,” Dommik said, grinning in that rather off-kilter way he had. Then again, Alice supposed that since he was really some sort of odd vampire-worm thing running around in a human suit (and how she wished she didn’t know that), it was only to be expected. “Daniel was hoping that he’d enjoy the statue, but I don’t think he expected him to try and recreate it.”

Normally it’s a bad idea for anyone to attempt to copy anomalous flora and fauna, N added, their cold gaze fixed on Daniel and Victor as they kept exchanging ideas on tweaks to the crystalline butterflies Victor was working on. But your husband seems to have a rare talent in that regard.

“Only because it’s a butterfly, I’m sure,” Alice replied, folding her arms. “Lepidoptery is Victor’s specialty. He can work with other insects too – we’ve got a hive of modified bees from a honey-making venture he attempted a little while back – and he’s got some talent with engineering, but butterflies and moths are where he shines.” She grinned. “Possibly because his very first project as a Touched was figuring out how to make them glow.”

“Oooh! I’d love to see that!” Dommik said, excitement shining through his eye sockets. “I’m sure they’re beautiful!”

“They are – and much less deadly than the creatures you lot apparently deal with on a daily basis,” Alice said, glancing between them and Daniel. “I thought Secundus could be a rowdy place to live sometimes, but after the stories you’ve told us of your world, it seems almost – peaceful.”

It is a difficult place to exist sometimes, N agreed. But we have found happiness there, regardless of the circumstances. They tilted their head at her. I do still find it interesting you do not exhibit the same Hume potential as the Alice we know at home.

“Oh, I’d love to be able to bend reality to my will,” Alice grumbled. “It’d make life so much easier. . .then again, your Alice seems to have had a very different life to mine, even if some of the broader events match up?”

“Mmm? Oh, yes – I’ve noticed your meta-narrative placement is much different from hers,” Daniel commented, looking up from the notepad he’d been sharing with Victor. “As is this Victor’s from the one I know. No waking up Emily means no potential for necromancy at all!”

“I’ll take raising butterflies over raising the dead,” Victor mumbled, scribbling something with a frown. “Hmmm – I’m not entirely sure that’s adding up right. . .”

“I’m just wondering where Smiler is,” Dommik said, looking around.

Alice blinked, then glanced over at Victor, who looked equally confused. “Ah – who?”

“You know – Smiler! Your themfriend?”

“Wrong universe, dearest,” Daniel said, with a slightly softer version of his trademark manic grin. “This romantic situation was resolved before their creation – though they may be here somewhere in potentia! Perhaps I could look into the matter!”

“Who are they?” Victor asked. “Other than a ‘themfriend.’” He smiled, tone light. “What, are we supposed to be a threesome too?”

Daniel laughed. “You could if you wanted to be! In fact, in studying the meta-verse for this trip, I actually located a reality where you and Alice are part of a nine-person polycule!”

Alice and Victor shared another, much more astonished glance. “. . .all right, now you have to tell us about that one,” Alice said after a moment, shaking her head. “Because I have got to know.”

#thesatiricaldemon #merry xmas #christmas fic #xmas fic #fanfic #secundus #eldritch hellworld valice #yeah my brain went 'okay honestly the world they'd probably fit into the best is Secundus but' #'...omg I could do a follow up to Secundus!Victor wanting to recreate that super-dangerous butterfly' XD #I think it turned out pretty well! #hoping the trio sound at least mostly in-character #reread a bit of Beneath A Broken Sky to get an idea of how they should talk #the Smiler bit at the end is a nod to where people probably EXPECTED me to go with this #with the nine-person polycule being 'Running Headlong Into The Bullshit' #the mega polycule with Preston Garvey and Piper Wright added to the mix XD #seriously hope you enjoy #and thanks again for Beneath A Broken Sky :) #queued

[yougetoneshot]

Stardust: Royal Pains

Chapter 2: Danse Macabre

Summary of Body Swaps:

Primus - Septimus (Can’t walk)

Secundus - Quartus (Constantly Shivering)

Tertias - Primus (Can’t talk)

Quartus - Secundus (Can’t move)

Quintus - Sextus (Can’t touch anything or their skin will stick to it)

Sextus - Tertius (Intense chest pains and shortness of breath)

Septimus - Quintus (Memory impaired)

Chapter 1

The seven brothers glared at each other in tense silence for a while. Secundus, who currently possessed Quartus, finally spoke up through his intense shivering.

“W-what k-kind of m-m-ma-magic can d-do thissss?!”

“The ironic kind?” Quartus smirked from Secundus’s broken body.

“How are any of us living right now?” Primus frowned through Septimus’s brows. “These bodies are broken- some more than others.” He’d look over at the body of Secundus.

“I don’t mind. I can’t feel any of it.” Quartus gave a self satisfied smirk from Secundus’s body. “Besides, whoever hired these goons to bring us back must know a way to fix us.”

“Even if they do, I’ll just have to kill you all again seeing as I’m king now.” The other brothers looked over to Septimus possessing Quintus’s body.

“You’re n-n-not king.” Secundus growled.

“I found the stone. I’m king.”

“Septimus, you’re dead. Our nephew, Tristan is king.” Primus explained.

“Who is Tristan?! Which one of you had a son?!”

“Una. Don’t you remember?”

“Of course I remember… who is Una?”

“I think that axe wound might be treating your memory poorly.” Quintus smirked from Sextus’s body.

“What axe wound?” He lifted a hand to feel the gaping hole in his head then back down at his hands before looking over at his body staring at him. “Why is my body looking at me?!”

“Because our souls are in the wrong bodies. I’m Primus.”

“Why did it have to be you?” Septimus grumbled and Primus sighed heavily.

“Why couldn’t you have been in my body- then you’d at least be quiet.” Primus looked over at his body who he knew from process of elimination must be possessed by Tertius who was glaring at him angrily.

“Una has a son?” Septimus whispered and shook his head. “I traded Una to a witch over a decade ago how does she have a son?”

“You sold off Una?!” All the other brothers glared at him.

“..what? I didn’t kill her.”

“We all loved Una, how could you do that?!”

“Because you loved her! She made us all soft! I never could have killed Quintus if she stayed around.”

“Una didn’t deserve that, Septimus. Your quarrel was with us, not her.” Primus frowned and Septimus became even more irritable at his own face glaring at him.

“I should have killed her.”

“If you had, we’d all be stuck as ghosts right now.” Sextus growled from Tertias’s body.

“As opposed to these broken bodies?!” Septimus growled back before clutching his head and blinking a few times before looking up at Primus.

“..why is my body looking at me?”

“Oh here we go again.” The other brothers groaned.

“Keep it down back there. We’re approaching the castle.” One of the cloaked figures yelled back to them. “We don’t need to concern anyone with you all looking.. like that.”

The princes grumbled but all silently agreed they did not want to be seen in their current states. The wagon was pulled into the castle and escorted to the royal stables. The cloaked figures came around to the back of the wagon once it was stopped. “Alright, let’s go.”

Septimus furrowed his brow at the cloaked figure and saw the stone they were holding. “That’s my stone!” He reached for the crystal but the cloaked figure backed up just out of his reach. Septimus leapt from the back of the wagon, bat wings unfurling from his back and fire slipping out the side of his mouth as he snarled. “Give me the stone!”

“Oh no, he’s going full dragon.” Quintus looked over at Primus. “You’ll have to stop him before he gets too heated and burns the place down!”

Primus barked at his brother as he painfully drug himself to the edge of the wagon. “Septimus! That’s not the stone!”

Septimus turned around and furrowed his brow. “Who are you?!” He stormed towards Primus and lifted him from the wagon and shoved him against the nearest wall.

“I’m your brother! Primus!”

“You expect me to believe that?!” Septimus spat small sparks of flame.

Primus grabbed onto Septimus’s arm and looked over to Quintus who nodded. “Sorry brother.” He bit hard into Septimus’s arm- which was really Quintus’s. Septimus howled as he was bitten by his own body, feeling the sharp pain of his second layer of teeth. The cloaked figures came over to help Primus but as the did, a burst of flame shot out of Septimus’s mouth and into the air. The crystal one of them had been holding fell to the ground and shattered causing all the princes to fall unconscious to the ground.

“Well… that went well.” The shorter cloaked figure quipped.

“Let’s just get them inside before they cause any more trouble.”

#stardust (2007) #stormhold princes #prince Primus #prince Secundus #prince Tertius #prince Quartus #prince Quintus #prince Sextus #prince Septimus

[seiji-the-ice-drake]

New here and I might as well make a post about what brought me to this hellsite

This is my Dragonfable Hero, Eveline! It has been ages since I've drawn something (Especially digitally) but despite that I think it turned out good! My back hates me now though, so that's a downside.

No one actually knows what Eveline's full name is, as she never stated her middle or last name and if someone asks anything that has to do with her past before becoming a hero, she usually avoids the question. Enough people have gotten the hint that it's not something she likes to talk about

The only thing she HAS revealed about her past is that she traversed the woods pretty often. Those trips had apparently given her a good grasp of what is good and bad to eat out in the wilderness and why she tends to eat certain mushrooms when adventuring

That and her white hair is all natural. She was born with it

What she won't reveal to anyone is that she is an orphan who lost her parents to an undead attack caused by a fleeing necromancer

The worst part was that she had to be told this by the other surviving villagers as she had been out cold when most of the attack happened

While there were people with big homes willing to take in any children who lost their parents during the attack, the town wasn't able to establish an official orphanage nor were they able to keep an eye on everyone, which made it easy for Eveline to wander out of town, much to the dismay of everyone who knew her

One of those fateful wandering off days had somehow lead Eveline to Falconreach and if you've played the quest, Yulgar's First Date, you know exactly what happened that day

Eventually one of the village guards had agreed to teach Eveline how to fight if she agreed to stop wandering off and giving everyone a heart attack. This is how Eveline grew to be a warrior.

At the age of 18 she left the village to pursue a career in adventuring. A couple of months after that event is when "A Hero is Born Bored" takes place

She gained a little bit more patience after nearly almost potentially eating the dragon egg

When she tried "Gently tapping" on the egg of Midir, her dragon, she did nearly end up cracking it which made her abandon any more hatching methods that involved direct contact (Can you guess what game I played before going back to Dragonfable?)

She was surprised to learn that Tomix's hair wasn't originally white like she first thought upon meeting him.

She had learned the ways of the Warrior, Paladin, Riftwalker, Dragonlord and Soulweaver before being frozen in ice, though it was easy to tell that she gravitated towards Soulweaving.

A little while after Midir had explained how they tried to 'hatch' her from her icy prison, she really felt a sense of kinship after hearing that Midir had tried the same methods she did

While her and Tomix were at Edelia, Eveline decided to watch a few classes to see what other Soulweaving techniques she could learn. One of the classes were making their own spirit looms and she joined in and made her own as well

She may still appear fine and jovial on the outside, she is actually severely repressing a lot of trauma and her newly found fear of being frozen and the situation with Caitiff was the closest she'd ever gotten to breaking down in front of everyone

Finding out from the Vind that the monsters she's fought have had their own cultures and histories was like a punch to the gut that she just powered through

Midir is the only one who knew the true extent of how much she keeps hidden from everyone and tries to convincer her to release the ever growing boiling pot called her emotions, even trying to use Tomix as an example of she should. It didn't work

Secundus? Who's that? Eveline learned a thing or two about Chaosweaving from Khvorost after they dropped anchor. She did consult Aegis first and he was okay with it. They both trusted Khvorost and he was pretty happy to teach Eveline a thing or two

After learning some Chaosweaving from Khvorost, Eveline had the idea to try and combine the two types of Weaving styles into one. It had certainly gotten an odd look from Aegis but he was willing to help her with her endeavor in any way he could

Eveline has a crush on Princess Victoria/Robina and Mritha. She didn't think it was possible to have a crush on more than one person but here she is. If it wasn't for literally everything going on around them, she'd be a mess around them

That didn't stop her from making a comment about Robina while escaping the Magesterium attack on Swordhaven, which Alteon heard. Eveline was both embarrassed and scared but Alteon just chuckled and did give her his blessing in case she ever decided to try and follow up on her feelings. That just made her more embarrassed.

She had a crush on Serenity, but we all know how that turned out and sufficed to say that after the talk with her ghost, Eveline silently cried herself to sleep

She knows that Remthalas could've done way worse during the Reawakening war and that thought terrifies her

#dragonfable #dragonfable hero #original character #oc: Eveline #my back still hurts from the drawing #and writing all of this didn't help #and the thing is I could add more #but my brain can't think of anything else to add #haven't drawn in a long time #so a lot of things in the drawing could've been improved upon #of all the things that could've made make a Tumblr account #Dragonfable was my breaking point #If there are any discrepancies with names or the like #i'm very tired #my art #almost forgot to add that one

[silverserpent]

I watched Dune!!

...two years after it came out. Yeah, I am a fan of the books, but... not enough to watch things immediately.

ANYWAY I have a bunch of things I loved. and a bunch I didn't.

First: KYNES!!! in the books, she's not a woman, in here, she is, and it looks GOOD on her. Especially at the end, when spoiler-worthy stuff happens.

The shots are beautiful. The towns on Arrakis, and the shield fights, and the MUSIC OH MY GOD. everything is HUGE and it gives you the feeling that here, absolutely massive things are moving, and you are so little compared to them.

And it did read as a... prophetic story? I think that was completely intentional. The story of Paul Atreides is a beginning of a religion in-universe. It was well done.

But, ahem.

WHY IS EVERYONE WEARING BLACK AND NEUTRALS. WHY ARE NO PLACES COLORFUL.

why are no places colorful. why are there no intricate clothes. the Atreides house doesn't even wear the falcon!! Which was in the books! Come on.

The Houses are supposd to be noblemen. and the Harkonnens' and especially the Baron's entire thing is that they are hoarding wealth. But they live in boring gray things with nothing on the walls and wear grays and blacks?! What?! This was a great opportunity for things to have character! you had your chance to show off rotting wealth and you missed!

And all the armies look the same. there's a moment when people yell about a batallion of people showing up who are different than who they fought with before, and I went like... damn, very impressive that you could tell any of these people apart.

And the Caladan, the Giedi Prime and the Salusa Secundus look... almost exactly the same. The three big players in the political world-level chess game and it just. washes all together. WHY.

Spoilers below the cut.

So. Kynes dying was the most BADASS THING oh my god. Yes. Kynes.

And the missed opportunity to design the Atreides people some nice clothes glared at me at the end. Like, Paul and Jessica lose their house, and are on the run. ok. It could have been SO MEANINGFUL if they had nice noblemen clothes!! Them becoming dust- and bloodstained as they scrape to get away and to survive in the desert! A shot when they are visibly different than the fremen around them because they are still wearing their old, fancy, dirty clothes, and then them changing into fremen clothes -- so at the end, when the people are going somewhere or other in the desert, you cant immediately tell them apart!!!

It was such a good opportunity and you fell on your face. come on. who instructed the costume designers? Were there costume designers?

And also Yueh. First, the only asian-looking guy. Second... Yueh's betrayal was not set up right!!! In the book, they knew there was a traitor, and everyone suspeted someone -- Paul was scared Gurney might be it, Leto at one point suspected Jessica, and it was a goddamn mind game. but we, as the readers, knew what was up because Herbert straight up told us. (I cannot find the words on how he told us, but he did.) So it was slow and inevitable.

And we had a few moments with each character to know them and to guess. We didn't get that here! The Shadout Mapes was barely in the movie before she fucking up and died, and she was such a chaacter in the books, she was our first proper fremen who behaved like a fremen and nothing else!

that being said, if it was under my directions, this movie probably would have been two weeks long or something like that.

#i have a lot of opinions sometimes

[thevalicemultiverse]

"Sorry I made you." "I'm not mad, just don't be so hard on yourself!" "Sorry, thanks for taking care of me." "You're welcome." "I'll be fine. Nothing a hot shower and my happy pills can't fix." "Thank you for being my friend." "Aww, thank you you for being my friend!" "I promise I won't get drunk and try to make out with you." "I promise I won't become so fixated on you I try to murder you and make a suit out out your skin!"

“. . .I want to move to another table,” Victor says, leaning away from the two.

“Yeah, ah, think that might be a good idea,” Emily agrees, motioning everyone else up. “Come on, time to find a less creepy place to sit and enjoy some chicken wings. . .”

#~M: I want some questions! now! (ask) #~M: grin without a cat (anon) #~V: Cuddlepile #~T: Girls Love Girls And Boys #sorry i made you #~C: Victor Van Dort #~C: Emily Cartwell #((wat #I mean I put this in a universe where it's especially weird #but I think even in a place like Secundus #this might raise a few eyebrows)) #Anonymous

[theloverofdragons]

kinda want to write a reverse soulallies au where the hero bonds with pandora and tomix bonds with aegis

• tomix sends the hero to the plane of elemental spirits to find a soulally when they come across pandora being chased, like in canon, but instead of being interrupted by aegis, they find her and help her out, scaring off whatever’s chasing her (perhaps other spirits??? tomix and aegis mention in canon that the other spirits would pick on her)

• the hero offers to escort her back to the safety of her domain, which she agrees to, and as they’re making their way back and talking, the hero mentions that they’re currently looking for a soulally; pandora, grateful for how they helped her, says she would be willing to be their soulally only...

• ...at which point uthuluc is accidentally released

• even though they can’t do much in their soul form, the hero still prepares to fight uthuluc to keep pandora and the other spirits safe, when aegis arrives and freezes it like in canon

• when he turns to find out who’s responsible, he’s rather surprised to see the hero standing next to pandora, and is caught up to speed on how the hero helped her and was willing to fight uthuluc, and how they’re looking for a soulally

• pandora tells aegis that she had offered as she wanted to help them like they helped her, before the situation with uthuluc, but only if the hero is willing to bond with her despite the risks

• the hero is willing, and aegis pretty much gives them his blessing, reasoning that it will be good for pandora to have someone else befriending and looking after her (and being a soulally means she’s less likely to venture out of her domain and accidentally cause trouble)

• the hero and pandora bond and the hero returns to ravenloss and tomix, who was getting a little worried with how long they were in the plane of elemental spirits and is, suffice to say, rather surprised to find out who the hero’s new soulally is

• so now he’s training the hero as a soulweaver - although under the rules of edelia, they’re technically a chaosweaver - who is bonded to the founder of the chaosweavers, who is the one who also released the seven corrupt spirits, who tomix is hunting

• the irony is not lost on him

• pandora and the dragon get on surprisingly well, finding common ground in that they’re both theoretically meant to be evil - the world destroyer and founder of the chaosweavers - but are bonded to the hero and working on the side of good

• tomix and the hero return to mystlyk museum to retrieve pandora’s cube, whereupon tomix meets pandora properly for the first time, and after some initial awkwardness, end up getting along well

• the hero returns to the surface and continues with their quest to get the elemental orbs before sepulchure, weaving with pandora by their side, remaining in her cube 

• then the final thirteenth happens, all the hero’s friends and allies are here as sepulchure makes his big push to obtain the orbs; the falconreach guardian tower and lady celestia are lost, the hero fights sepulchure and loses badly

• the doomknight is approaching the fallen hero, seemingly ready to strike the final blow, pandora is panicking for the safety of the hero, her bonded soulweaver, one of her only friends, and manifests in the material world...

• ...and seppy winds up tripping over his own feet

• after all, if your presence in the physical world causes misfortune, you might as well use it to your advantage where you can

• the rest of book one and book two play out as they do in canon, and when the hero is frozen by jaania, pandora retreats to her domain in the plane of elemental spirits to mourn with her only visitor being aegis

• she can’t break the hero out of the ice; the magic is too strong and she’d probably wind up making things worse, so she’ll trust the dragon to guard the crystal and will monitor from afar through their bond, ready to reunite with the hero when they break free, because they WILL break free no matter how long it takes

• during this time, tomix comes to the plane of elemental spirits to find a new soulally after aspar/envy disappears, where he comes across aegis, who has heard about his quest from pandora, and respects his commitment to righting his wrongs by completing his quest to banish the corrupt spirits, and the two bond

• the two of them will also visit pandora in her domain, to keep her company and to talk; aegis offers to try and break the hero out of the ice but, like in canon, he is unable to, so they have to wait

• of course, the hero is eventually freed from the ice and returns to ravenloss, reuniting with tomix, pandora and aegis, and are off again to build a ship to sail into the void and stop envy

• when heading to edelia, tomix hopes that the topic of which spirit the hero is bonded to doesn’t come up, what with the headmaster being bonded to baltael, and the possibility of oyva and her soulsmith being there, and an impromptu family reunion may not go too well 

• aegis’ scenes of being the lookout on the ship, making the map of the ynnungaap, etc. are the same only with tomix rather than the hero, who gets a twinge of sadness, wondering whether his bond with aspar was as real as his one with aegis

• as in canon, when the hero and tomix step foot on the island in the void, all of pandora’s memories come flooding back to her and she tells them the truth about aspar and how she believes it is her fault, so she will do her best to help them put an end to his evils

• after defeating green, red and blue, tomix synchronises with aegis and shoots off to confront envy, joined by the hero shortly afterwards, forcing envy out of his ‘human’ body

• again, the following scene plays out as in canon with envy taking over tomix’s body, forcing the hero to fight him and attempts full synchronisation, only to be interrupted by pandora who was able to temporarily ‘jump’ into tomix’s body

• she distracts envy with her speech about how despite his evils, she still loves him, allowing aegis to freeze him in place, before telling tomix that he knows what he has to do to end this, thanking him and aegis for being such good friends to her and the hero

• That Scene(tm) happens and everyone cries :(

• if there was ever a time that pandora wished that she had a human body again it was now, so she could hug the hero and comfort them as best she could as they both grieved (tomix and the hero told her it wasn’t her fault but there’s still some part of her that feels deeply guilty)

• now pandora has her memories back, on the hero’s request, she teaches them some chaosweaving in case their soulweaving training isn’t enough and they need to act fast in order to save people, as the technique doesn’t have to be used for evil, like how we see khvorost use it

• on that note, there’s a rather awkward scene when the hero meets khvorost and ruuma; he’s getting a little too carried away with bragging when the founder of chaosweaving herself appears

• book three continues with the occasional cameo from pandora

• with her memories and subsequently her fighting skills returned (think her attacks in the inn at the edge of time, with that hella cool scythe), she aids the hero in battle both through weaving and in physical form

• when the likes of caitiff’s cultists and the rose are trying to attack during a war but battalions keep getting lost or running across monsters that completely curb stomp them, a common denominator appears to be a certain spirit appearing in the material world before them

• speaking of caitiff, pandora vows to make life as hard for them as possible for hurting the hero so deeply, first by possessing serenity and then by corrupting the dragon; pandora will NOT lose another friend, time for the doom spirit to see precisely why she was considered the worst of her siblings

• when the hero, artix, nythera and the dragon are falling, pandora forms a cube around the hero to protect them when they land

• aside from khvorost, pandora probably doesn’t make that many cameos in book three’s main story (aside from maybe meeting kara) until probably the proclamation rifts

• as for the first weaver saga catching up with the main story, well, i guess we’ll have to wait and see, but something tells me she wouldn’t be too happy to see her father again...

• that being said, if secundus and pandora wound up having a fight, my money’s on pandora

#dragonfable #reverse soulallies au #the hero #pandora #tomix #aegis #pandora can have a little chaos as a treat #oops this got long #atm this is a very rough idea #but who knows maybe i'll actually write it lmao #feel free to let me know what you think

[aimee-maroux]

Menstruation in the ancient World

Menstruation may seem to some an odd topic to write about on an erotica blog, but women do enjoy sex, erotica, and masturbation while bleeding. I know I do. That is why, when Serena sent me this tweet, I laughed, because I could totally relate:

When I forget I’m on my period and start masturbating https://t.co/7DMKDyX7nj

— 🥀 (@YeIIowbang)

October 16, 2018

I didn't laugh anymore when I read the comments beneath the tweet.

Maybe I grew up in a very niche environment, but none of the people in my life have been squeamish to talk about menstruation. As a teenager, a male friend even asked if he could see my (bloody) tampon, because he was curious. That is why people acting with such aversion to the subject always leave me open-mouthed.

On the other hand, there exist cute sayings like "a good captain isn't afraid to sail the red sea" or "menstronaut" (though shouldn't it be menstrunaut?) for men who are not bothered by a little blood and engage in sexual activity during menstruation.

Menstruation is surrounded by myths even to this day. And usually not the fun kind. Today, I want to take a look at the ancient world and how women back then dealt with their monthly bleeding.

Ancient Pads and Tampons

Isis Knot

Since some people - myself included before I got intimate with the ancient world - think tampons were an invention of the 20th century and invented by a man, I present to you the real inventors: Egyptian women!

It is generally assumed that ancient Egyptian women fashioned a kind of throw-away tampon probably from papyrus or other grass. As flax was cultivated and even exported to other countries, cheap linen could also qualify as a raw material and be used by even the poorer groups of people. During the Roman era, cotton probably took the place of these materials, which is also what modern tampons are made of today. Both, tampons and pads, were used in ancient Egypt, but it is not clear which was preferred.

The tyet or Isis knot, a stone carving portraying a cloth that has been rolled up and looped around itself, could represent such a menstrual tampon.

In Sumer, women also used menstrual pads made of rags, as this Sumerian proverb aptly testifies. Copied down as part of the scribal curriculum, the proverb features a lady so wealthy she can dispose of, rather than wash and reuse, her menstruation rags:

"I am a lady of amazing clothes. Let me cut up my menstruation rag."

The ancient Greek medical texts that came to be known as the ‘Hippocratic corpus', written primarily in the 5th and 4th century BCE, described another type of tampon, which was made of lint wrapped around lightweight wood.

This type of tampon, however, is used to staunch a wound. The physician should roll up lint in a rag or in thin Carthaginian leather (chosen because it is so soft) and insert this into a fractured nose.

Greek and Hebrew inscriptions describe the use of tampons for contraception, but did they use it for menstrual care too?

According to Helen King who wrote her PhD thesis on ancient Greek menstruation, women in ancient Greece used home-made pads of rags, rather than tampons.

Menstruation in Mythology

The name "Isis knot" for what is thought to be ancient Egyptian tampons, refers to the goddess Isis, who according to legend, used a tampon while pregnant with Horus. The god Seth had tried to destroy the baby in her womb many times, sometimes by causing premature bleeding. Seth killed Osiris, his brother and father of Horus and, failing to kill the baby, Seth would spend a lot of time trying to defend the throne of Egypt against the grown Horus. So Isis could be understood as the inventor of the first tampon if we presuppose that the Isis knot served as such an object.

The tyet or Isis knot was often used as a protector talisman.

Gaius Plinius Secundus Maior, in English Pliny the Elder, wrote a book on Natural History called Naturalis historia. What he recounts about menstruation is not mythology per se, but ancient Roman superstition. It gets pretty wild:

Must will get sour in the presence of a menstruating woman

Crops will become infertile by her touch

Mirrors will become dull if she looks at it

Iron will lose its sharpness and start rusting

Hail and storm can be averted by a menstruating woman exposing herself towards the lightning

Fucking a menstruating woman during a solar or lunar eclipse or during a new moon can end deadly for a man

All in all, it's pretty hard to discern real ancient mythology from wishful thinking or romanticisation. I found these 2 additional myths for which I did not find any reliable sources:

Thor, allegedly, had to travel a river of menstrual blood to reach a magic land of enlightenment. The source of the blood were giantesses. This myth does have similarities to a story in which Thor and Loki travel to Jotunheim and a giantess is peeing, so Thor throws a rock to block the flow from the giantess' urethra so he and Loki won't be swept away by the raging torrent.

Mothers dedicated richly woven textiles to Artemis after their daughters had successfully experienced menarche. The girls then passed on to the protection of Hera, who was the patron goddess of menstruation and women's fertility.

Hera or Hebe also serve nectar to the gods which, it seems, some people interpret as miraculous menstrual blood. The Greeks did think that menstrual blood would nourish a foetus during pregnancy. But if the gods were dependent on it for their immortality?

Menstruation and Sex

Performing cunnilingus on a menstruating woman was possibly the most obscene thing a man and a woman from ancient Greece or Rome could do in bed. That doesn't mean it never happened, but men giving cunnilingus were a subject of ridicule. The vagina was said to have a strong smell of salted fish and cunnilictors were accused of having bad breath and an impure mouth "in which women purged themselves" (in cuius ore feminae purgabantur). Cicero claims one Sextus Cloelius performed cunnilingus on menstruating women.

Ovid advises the lover who wants to fall out of love to observe the woman performing something "obscene," presumably waste elimination, especially menstruation. Menstrual blood was thought to be not only emotionally but also physically powerful, so strong it could dissolve the bitumen that clung to boats in the Dead Sea.

Sources

Hera Summary on theoi.com

10 ancient Egyptian Medical Practices we still use Today by Listverse

Menstruation, Menstrual Hygiene and Woman's Health in Ancient Egypt by Petra Habiger

The history of tampons in ancient Greece by Helen King

Dress, Gender and the Menstrual Culture of Ancient Greece by Amy Pence-Brown

Women's Health in ancient Mesopotamia Q&A by Dr. Moudhy Al-Rashid

Dress, Gender and the Menstrual Culture of Ancient Greece by Amy Pence-Brown

Naturalis historia by Gaius Plinius Secundus Maior (Pliny the Elder)

Sex in the ancient World from A-Z by John G. Younger

#menstruation #history #herstory #history of medicine #ancient Egypt #ancient Greece #ancient Rome #ancient magic #magic #women's history #ancient Mesopotamia #Isis #Isis deity #Hera #nonfiction #Aimée Maroux #Aimée Maroux Article

[hellouniversegoodbyeworld]

Martial, Epigrams. Book 1. Bohn's Classical Library (1897)

BOOK I.

TO THE READER

I trust that, in these little books of mine, I have observed such self-control, that whoever forms a fair judgment from his own' mind can make no complaint of them, since they indulge their sportive fancies without violating the respect due even to persons of the humblest station; a respect which was so far disregarded by the authors of antiquity, that they made free use, not only of real, but of great names. For me; let fame be held in less estimation, and let such talent be the last thing commended in me.

Let the ill-natured interpreter, too, keep himself from meddling with the simple meaning of my jests, and not write my epigrams for me.1 He acted honourably who exercises perverse ingenuity on another man's book: For the free plainness of expression, that is, for the language of epigram, I would apologize, if I were introducing the practice; but it is thus that Catullus writes, and Marsus, and Pedo, and Getulicus, and every one whose writings are read through. If any assumes to be so scrupulously nice, however, that it is not allowable to address him, in a single page, in plain language, he may confine himself to this address, or rather to the title of the book. Epigrams are written for those who are accustomed to be spectators at the games of Flora. Let not Cato enter my theatre; or, if he do enter, let him look on. It appears to me that I shall do only what I have a right to do, if I close my address with the following verses:----

1 Let him not make them his own, by the false interpretation which he puts upon them.

TO CATO.

Since you knew the lascivious nature of the rites of sportive Flora, as well as the dissoluteness of the games, and the license of the populace, why, stern Cato, did you enter the theatre? Did you come in only that you might go out again?

I. TO THE READER.

The man whom you are reading is the very man that you want,----Martial, known over the whole world for his humorous books of epigrams; to whom, studious reader, you have afforded such honours, while he is alive and has a sense of them, as few poets receive after their death.

II. TO THE READER; SHOWING WHERE THE AUTHOR'S BOOKS MAY BE PURCHASED.

You who are anxious that my books should be with you everywhere, and desire to have them as companions on a long journey, buy a copy of which the parchment leaves are compressed into a small compass.1 Bestow book-cases upon large volumes; one hand will hold me. But that you may not be ignorant where I am to be bought, and wander in uncertainty over the whole town, you shall, under my guidance, be sure of obtaining me. Seek Secundus, the freedman of the learned Lucensis, behind the Temple of Peace and the Forum of Pallas.

1 That is, a copy with small pages; a small copy.

III. THE AUTHOR TO HIS BOOK.

You prefer, little book, to dwell in the shops in the Argiletum,1 though my book-case has plenty of room for you. You are ignorant, alas! you are ignorant of the fastidiousness of Rome, the mistress of the world; the sons of Man, believe me, are much too critical. Nowhere are there louder sneers; young men and old, and even boys, have the nose of the rhinoceros.2 After you have heard a loud "Bravo!" and are expecting kisses, you will go, tossed to the skies, from the jerked toga.3 Yet, that you may not so often suffer the corrections of your master, and that his relentless pen may not so often mark your vagaries, you desire, frolicsome little book, to fly through the air of heaven. Go, fly; but you would have been safer at home.

1 An open place, or square, in Rome, where tradesmen had shops. 2  Have great powers of ridicule, which the Romans often expressed by turning up or wrinkling the nose. 3  People will take you into their lap, and then jerk you out of it, as if you were tossed in a blanket

IV. TO CAESAR.

If you should chance, Caesar, to light upon my books, lay aside that look which awes the world. Even your triumphs have been accustomed to endure jests,1 nor is it any shame to a general to be a subject for witticisms. Read my verses, I pray you, with that brow with which you behold Thymele 2 and Latinus 3 the buffoon. The censorship 4 may tolerate innocent jokes: my page indulges in freedoms, but my life is pure.

1 In allusion to the jests which the soldiers threw out on their generals while they were riding in the triumphal procession. 2  A female dancer. 3 A dancer in pantomime; a sort of harlequin. 4  Alluding to Domitian having made himself perpetual censor.

V. THE EMPEROR'S REPLY.

I give you a sea-fight, and you give me epigrams: you wish, I suppose, Marcus, to be set afloat with your book.

VI. ON A LION OF CAESAR'S THAT SPARED A HARE.

While through the air of heaven the eagle was carrying the youth,1 the burden unhurt clung to its anxious talons. From Caesar's lions their own prey now succeeds in obtaining mercy, and the hare plays safe in their huge jaws. Which miracle do you think the greater? The author of each is a supreme being: the one is the work of Caesar; the other,2 of Jove.

1 Ganymede. 2 Comp. Eps. 14, 22.

VII. TO MAXIMUS

The dove, the delight of my friend Stella,3----even with Verona4 listening will I say it, ---- has surpassed, Maximus, the sparrow of Catullus. By so much is my Stella greater than your Catullus, as a dove is greater than a sparrow.

3 A poet of Patavium, who wrote an elegy on the dove of his mistress Ianthis. See B. vi. Ep. 21; B. vii. Ep. 13. 4 The birth-place of Catullus.

VIII. TO DECIANUS

In that you so far only follow the opinions of the great Thrasea and Cato of consummate virtue, that you still wish to preserve your life, and do not with bared breast rush upon drawn swords, you do, Decianus, what I should wish you to do. I do not approve of a man who purchases fame with life-blood, easy to be shed: I like him who can be praised without dying to obtain it.

IX. TO COTTA.

You wish to appear, Cotta, a pretty man and a great man at one and the same time: but he who is a pretty man, Cotta, is a very small man.

X. ON GEMELLUS AND MARONILLA.

Gemellus is seeking the hand of Maronilla, and is earnest, and lays siege to her, and beseeches her, and makes presents to her. Is she then so pretty? Nay; nothing can be more ugly. What then is the great object and attraction in her? ----Her cough.

XI. TO SEXTILIANUS.

Seeing that there are given to a knight twice five pieces,1 wherefore is twice ten the amount which you spend by yourself, Sextilianus, in drink? Long since would the warm water have failed the attendants who carried it, had you not, Sextilianus, been drinking your wine unmixed.2

1 Ten sesterces, the usual sportula, or donation from the emperor. 2 The Romans used to drink their wine mixed with warm water.

XII. ON REGULUS.

Where the road runs to the towers of the cool Tivoli, sacred to Hercules, and the hoary Albula 3 smokes with sulphureous waters, a milestone, the fourth from the neighbouring city, points out a country retreat, and a hallowed grove, and a domain well beloved of the Muses. Here a rude portico used to afford cool shade in summer; a portico, ah! how nearly the desperate cause of an unheard-of calamity: for suddenly it fell in ruins, after Regulus had just been conveyed in a carriage and pair from under its high fabric. Truly Dame Fortune feared our complaints, as she would have been unable to withstand so great odium. Now even our loss delights us; so beneficial is the impression which the very danger produces; since, while standing, the edifice could not have proved to us the existence of the gods.

3 A plain near Tivoli.

XIII. ON ARRIA AND PAETUS.

When the chaste Arria handed to her Paetus the sword which she had with her own hand drawn forth from her heart, "If you believe me," said she, "the wound which I have made gives me no pain; but it is that which you will make, Paetus, that pains me."

XIV. TO DOMITIAN.

The pastimes, Caesar, the sports and the play of the lions, we have seen: your arena affords you the additional sight of the captured hare returning often in safety from the kindly tooth, and running at large through the open jaws. Whence is it that the greedy lion can spare his captured prey? He is said to be yours: thence it is that he can show mercy.

XV. TO JULIUS.

Oh! you who are regarded by me, Julius, as second to none of my companions, if well-tried friendship and longstanding ties are worth anything, already nearly a sixtieth consul is pressing upon you, and your life numbers but a few more uncertain days. Not wisely would you defer the enjoyment which you see maybe denied you, or consider the past alone as your own. Cares and linked chains of disaster are in store; joys abide not, but take flight with winced speed. Seize them with either hand, and with your full grasp; even thus they will oft-times pass away and glide from your closest embrace. 'Tis not, believe me, a wise man's part to say, "I will live." To-morrow's life is too late: live to-day.

XVI. TO AVITUS.

Of the epigrams which you read here, some are good, some middling, many bad; a book, Avitus, cannot be made in any other way.

XVII. TO TITUS.

Titus urges me to go to the Bar, and often tells me, "The gains are large." The gains of the husbandman, Titus, are likewise large.

XVIII. TO TUCCA, ON HIS PARSIMONY.

What pleasure can it give you, Tucca, to mix with old Falernian wine new wine stored up in Vatican casks? What vast amount of good has the most worthless of wine done you? or what amount of evil has the best wine done you? As for us, it is a small matter; but to murder Falernian, and to put poisonous wine in a Campanian cask, is an atrocity. Your guests may possibly have deserved to perish: a wine-jar of such value has not deserved to die.

XIX. TO AELIA.

If I remember right, Aelia, you had four teeth; a cough displaced two, another two more. You can now cough without anxiety all the day long. A third cough can find nothing to do in your mouth.

XX. TO CAECILIANUS.

Tell me, what madness is this? While a whole crowd of invited guests is looking on, you alone, Caecilianus, devour the truffles. What shall I imprecate on you worthy of so large a stomach and throat? That you may eat a truffle such as Claudius ate.

XXI. ON PORSENA AND MUCIUS SCAEVOLA.

When the hand that aimed at the king mistook for him his secretary, it thrust itself to perish into the sacred fire but the generous foe could not endure so cruel a sight, and bade the hero, snatched from the flame, to be set free. The hand which, despising the fire, Mucius dared to burn, Porsena could not bear to look on Greater was the fame and glory of that right hand from being deceived; had it not missed its aim, it had accomplished less.

XXII. TO A HARE.

Why, silly hare, are you fleeing from the fierce jaws of the lion now grown tame? They have not learned to crush such tiny animals. Those talons, which you fear, are reserved for mighty necks, nor does a thirst so great delight in so small a draught of blood. The hare is the prey of hounds; it does not fill large mouths: the Dacian boy should not fear Caesar.

XXIII. TO COTTA.

You invite no one, Cotta, except those whom you meet at the bath; and the bath alone supplies you with guests. I used to wonder why you had never asked me, Cotta; I know now that my appearance in a state of nature was unpleasing in your eyes.

XXIV. TO DECIANUS.

You see yonder individual, Decianus, with locks uncombed, whose grave brow even you fear; who talks incessantly of the Curii and Camilli, defenders of their country's liberties: do not trust his looks; he was taken to wife but yesterday.

XXV. TO FAUSTINUS.

Issue at length your books to the public, Faustinus, and give to the light the work elaborated by your accomplished mind,----a work such as neither the Cecropian city of Pandion would condemn, nor our old men pass by in silence. Do you hesitate to admit Fame, who is standing before your door; and does it displease you to receive the reward of your labour? Let the writings, destined to live after you, begin to live through your means. Glory comes too late, when paid only to our ashes.

XXVI. TO SEXTILIANUS.

Sextilianus, you drink as much as five rows of knights  1 alone: you might intoxicate yourself with water, if you so often drank as much. Nor is it the coin of those who sit near you alone that you consume in drink, but the money of those far removed from you, on the distant benches. This vintage has not been concerned with Pelignian presses, nor was this juice of the grape produced upon Tuscan heights; but it is the glorious jar of the long-departed Opimius 2 that is drained, and it is the Massic cellar that sends forth its blackened casks. Get dregs of Laletane wine from a tavern-keeper, Sextilianus, if you drink more than ten cups.3

1 Seated on the benches allotted them in the theatre. See Ep. 12. 2  The vintage of B. C. 121, in which year L. Opimius was one of the consuls, was extremely celebrated, and is frequently mentioned by the Roman writers. 3  The number to which persons at feasts usually restricted themselves.

XXVII. TO PROCILLUS.

Last night I had invited you----after some fifty glasses, I suppose, had been despatched----to sup with me to-day. You immediately thought your fortune was made, and took note of my unsober words, with a precedent but too dangerous. I hate a boon companion whose memory is good, Procillus.

XXVIII. ON ACCERRA.

Whoever believes it is of yesterday's wine that Acerra smells, is mistaken: Acerra always drinks till morning.

XXIX. TO FIDENTINUS.

Report says that you, Fidentinus, recite my compositions in public as if they were your own. If you allow them to be called mine, I will send you my verses gratis; if you wish them to be called yours, pray buy them, that they may be mine no longer.

XXX. ON DIAULUS.

Diaulus had been a surgeon, and is now an undertaker. He has begun to be useful to the sick in the only way that he could.

XXXI. TO APOLLO, OF ENCOLPUS.

Encolpus, the favourite of the centurion his master, consecrates these, the whole of the locks from his head, to you, O Phoebus.1 When Pudens shall have rained the pleasing honour of the chief-centurionship, which he has so well merited, cut these long tresses close, O Phoebus, as soon as possible, while the tender face is yet undisfigured with down, and while the flowing hair adorns the milk-white neck; and, that both master and favourite may long enjoy your gifts, make him carry shorn, but late a man.2

1 Encolpus, a favourite of Aulus Pudens the centurion, had vowed his hair to Phoebus, is order that his master might soon be made chief centurion. Martial prays that they may both obtain what they desire. 2 Extend his youth as long as possible.

XXXII. TO SABIDIUS.

I do not love you, Sabidius, nor can I say why; I can only say this, I do not love you.

The following lines, in imitation of this epigram, were made by some Oxford wit, on Dr John Fell, Bishop of Oxford, who died in 1686:

I do not love thee, Doctor Fell; The reason why I cannot tell. But this I'm sure I know full well, I do not love thee, Doctor Fell.

XXXIII. ON GELLIA.

Gellia does not mourn for her deceased father, when she is alone; but if any one is present, obedient tears spring forth. He mourns not, Gellia, who seeks to be praised; he is the true mourner, who mourns without a witness.

XXXIV. TO LESBIA.

You always take your pleasure, Lesbia, with doors unguarded and open, nor are you at any pains to conceal your amusements. It is more the spectator, than the accomplice in your doings, that pleases you, nor are any pleasures grateful to your taste if they be secret. Yet the common courtesan excludes every witness by curtain and by bolt, and few are the chinks in a suburban brothel. Learn something at least of modesty from Chione, or from Alis: even the monumental edifices of the dead afford hiding-places for abandoned harlots. Does my censure seem too harsh? I do not exhort you to be chaste, Lesbia, but not to be caught.

XXXV. TO CORNELIUS.

You complain, Cornelius, that the verses which I compose are little remarkable for their reserve, and not such as a master can read out in his school; but such effusions, as in the case of man and wife, cannot please without some spice of pleasantry in them. What if you were to bid me write a hymeneal song in words not suited to hymeneal occasions? Who enjoins the use of attire at the Floral games, and imposes on the courtesan the reserve of the matron? This law has been allowed to frolicsome verses, that without tickling the fancy they cannot please. Lay aside, therefore, your severe look, I beseech you, and spare my jokes and gaiety, and do not desire to mutilate my compositions. Nothing is more disgusting than Priapus become a priest of Cybele.

XXXVI. TO THE BROTHERS LUCANUS AND TULLUS.

If, Lucanus, to you, or if to you, Tullus, had been offered such fates as the Laconian children of Leda enjoy, there would have been this noble struggle of affection in both of you, that each would have wished to die first in place of his brother; and he who should have first descended to the nether realms of shade would have said, "Live, brother, thine own term of days; live also mine."

XXXVII. TO BASSUS.

Yon deposit your excretions, without any sense of shame, into an unfortunate vessel of gold, while you drink out of glass. The former operation, consequently, is the more expensive.

XXXVIII. TO FIDENTINUS.

The book which you are reading aloud is mine, Fidentinus but, while you read it so badly, it begins to be yours.

With fruity accents, and so vile a tone, You quote my lines, I took them for your own.  Anon.

XXXIX. TO DECIANUS.

If there be any man fit to be numbered among one's few choice friends, a man such as the honesty of past times and ancient renown would readily acknowledge; if any man thoroughly imbued with the accomplishments of the Athenian and Latin Minervas, and exemplary for true integrity; if there be any man who cherishes what is right, and admires what is honourable, and asks nothing of the gods but what all may hear; if there be any man sustained by the strength of a great mind, may I die, if that man is not Decianus.

XL. TO AN ENVIOUS MAN.

You who make grimaces, and read these verses of mine with an ill grace, you, victim of jealousy, may, if you please, envy everybody; nobody will envy you.

XLI. TO CAECILIUS.

You imagine yourself Caecilius, a man of wit. You are no such thing, believe me. What then? A low buffoon; such a thing as wanders about in the quarters beyond the Tiber, and barters pale-coloured sulphur matches for broken glass; such a one as sells boiled peas and beans to the idle crowd; such as a lord and keeper of snakes; or as a common servant of the salt-meat-sellers; or a hoarse-voiced cook who carries round smoking sausages in steaming shops; or the worst of street poets; or a blackguard slave-dealer from Gades;1 or a chattering old debauchee. Cease at length, therefore, to imagine yourself that which is imagined by you alone, Caecilius, you who could have silenced Gabba, and even Testius Caballus, with your jokes. It is not given to every one to have taste; he who jests with a stupid effrontery is not a Testius, but a Caballus.3

1 See Juvenal xi. 163, and Mayor's note. 3 A play on the word Caballus, which, as an appellative noun, meant a hack-horse.

XLII. ON PORCIA.

When Porcia had heard the fate of her consort Brutus, and her grief was seeking the weapon, which had been carefully removed from her," You know not yet," she cried, "that death cannot be denied: I had supposed that my father had taught you this lesson by his fate. She spoke, and with eager mouth swallowed the blazing coals. "Go now, officious attendants, and refuse me a sword, if you will."

XLIII. ON MANCINUS.

Twice thirty were invited to your table, Mancinus, and nothing was placed before us yesterday but a wild-boar. Nowhere were to be seen grapes preserved from the late vines, or apples vying in flavour with sweet honey-combs; nowhere the pears which hang suspended by flexible twigs, or pomegranates the colour of summer roses: nor did the rustic basket supply its milky cheeses, or the olive emerge from its Picenian jar. Your wild-boar was by itself: and it was even of the smallest size, and such a one as might have been slaughtered by an unarmed dwarf. Besides, none of it was given us; we simply looked on it as spectators. This is the way in which even the arena places a wild-boar before us. May no wild-boar be placed before you after such doings, but may you be placed before the boar in front of which Charidemus was placed.1

1 By Domitian, to be torn in pieces. See Sueton. Life of Domit.

XLIV. TO STELLA.

If it seems to you too much, Stella, that my longer and shorter compositions are occupied with the frisky gambols of the hares and the play of the lions, and that I go over the same subject twice, do you also place a hare twice before me.

XLV. ON HIS BOOK.

That the care which I have bestowed upon what I have published may not come to nothing through the smallness of my volumes, let me rather fill up my verses with Τὸν δ̕ ἀπαμειθόμενος.1

1 Let me rather use frequent repetitions, just as Homer frequently repeats these words.

XLVI. TO HEDYLUS.

[From the Loeb translation]

When you say "I haste; now is the time," then, Hedylus, my ardour at once flags and weakens. Bid me wait: more quickly, stayed, shall I speed on. Hedylus, if you do haste, tell me not to haste!

XLVII. ON DIAULUS.

Diaulus, lately a doctor, is now an undertaker: what he does as an undertaker, he used to do also as a doctor.

XLVIII. ON THE LION AND HARE.

The keepers could not snatch the bulls from those wide jaws, through which the fleeting prey, the hare, goes and returns in safety; and, what is still more strange, he starts from his foe with increased swiftness, and contracts something of the great nobleness of the lion's nature. He is not safer when he courses along the empty arena, nor with equal feeling of security does he hide him in his hutch. If, venturous hare, you seek; to avoid the teeth of the hounds, you have the jaws of the lion to which you may flee for refuge.

XLIX. TO LICINIANUS.

O you, whose name must not be left untold by Celtiberian nations, you the honour of our common country, Spain, you, Licinianus, will behold the lofty Bilbilis, renowned for horses and arms, and Catus1 venerable with his locks of snow, and eased Vadavero with ita broken cliffs, and the sweet grove of delicious Botrodus, which the happy Pomona loves. You will breast the gently-flowing water of the warm Congedus and the calm lakes of the Nymphs, and your body, relaxed by these, you may brace up in the little Salo, which hardens iron. There Voberca 2 herself will supply for your meals animals which may be brought down close at hand. The serene summer heat you will disarm by bathing in the golden Tagus, hidden beneath the shades of trees; your greedy thirst the fresh Dercenna will appease, and Nutha, which in coldness surpasses snow. But when hoar December and the furious solstice shall resound with the hoarse blasts of the north-wind, you will again seek the sunny shores of Tarraco and thine own Laletania. There you will despatch hinds caught in your supple toils, and native boars; and you will tire out the cunning hare with your hardy steed; the stags you will leave to your bailiff. The neighboring wood will come down into your very hearth, surrounded as it will be with a troop of uncombed children. The huntsman will be invited to your table, and many a guest called in from the neighbourhood will come to you. The crescent-adorned boot 3 will be nowhere to be seen, nowhere the toga and garments smelling of purple dye. Far away will be the ill-favoured Liburnian porter 4 and the grumbling client; far away the imperious demands of widows. The pale criminal will not break your deep sleep, but all the morning long you will enjoy your slumber. Let another earn the grand and wild "Bravo!" Do you pity such happy ones, and enjoy without pride true delight, while your friend Sura is crowned with applause. Not unduly does life demand of us our few remaining days, when fame has as much as is sufficient.

1 Catus and Vadavero are names of mountains near Bilbilis. Botrodus is a small town; Congedus and Salo, riven.   2 The name of a town. Dercenna and Nutha are fountains.   3 Worn by senators. 4 See Juvenal, iv. 75.

L. TO AEMILIANUS.

If your cook, Aemilianus, is called Mistyllus, why should not mine be called Taratalla?1

1 A meaningless jest taken from Homer's words (Il. i.465).

LI. TO A HARE.

No neck, save the proudest, serves for the fierce lion. Why do you, vain-glorious hare, flee from these teeth? No doubt you would wish them to stoop from the huge bull to you, and to crush a neck which they cannot see. The glory of an illustrious death must be an object of despair to you. You, a tiny prey, canst not fall before such an enemy!

LII. TO QUINCTIANUS.

To you, Quinctianus, do I commend my books, if indeed I can call books mine, which your poet recites.1 If they complain of a grievous yoke, do you come forward as their advocate, and defend them efficiently; and when he calls himself their master, say that they were mine, but have been given 2 by me to the public. If you will proclaim this three or four times, you will bring shame on the plagiary.

1 A poet that recited verses to Quinctianus; the same, probably, that is mentioned in the next epigram. 2 Manumitted; released from my portfolio.

LIII. TO FIDENTINUS.

One page only in my books belongs to you, Fidentinus, but it bears the sure stamp of its master, and accuses your verses of glaring theft. Just so does a Gallic frock coming in contact with purple city cloaks stain them with grease and filth; just so do Arretine1 pots disgrace vases of crystal; so is a buck crow, straying perchance on the banks of the Cayster, laughed to scorn amid the swans of Leda: and so, when the sacred grove resounds with the music of the tuneful nightingale, the miscreant magpie disturbs her Attic plaints. My books need no one to accuse or judge you: the page which is yours stands up against you and says, "You are a thief"

1 Earthen pots from Arretium, a town of Etruria.

LIV. TO FUSCUS.

If, Fuscus, you have room to receive still more affection, (for you have friends around you on all sides), I ask you one place in your heart, if one still remains vacant, and that you will not refuse because I am a stranger to you: all your old friends were so once. Simply consider whether he who is presented to you a stranger is likely to become an old friend.

LV. TO FRONTO.

If you, Fronto, so distinguished an ornament of military and civil life, desire to learn the wishes of your friend Marcus, he prays for this, to be the tiller of his own farm, nor that a large one, and he loves inglorious repose in as unpretending sphere. Does any one haunt the porticoes of cold variegated Spartan marble, and run to offer, like a fool, his morning greetings, when he might, rich with the spoils of grave and field, unfold before his fire his well-filled nets, and lift the leaping fish with the quivering line, and draw forth the yellow honey from the red1 cask, while a plump housekeeper loads his unevenly-propped table, and his own eggs are cooked by an unbought fire? That the man who loves not me may not love this life, is my wish; and let him drag out life pallid with the cares of the city.

1 Stained with vermilion.

LVI. TO A VINTNER.

Harassed with continual rains, the vineyard drips with wet. You cannot sell us, vintner, even though you wish, neat wine.

LVII. TO FLACCUS.

Do you ask what sort of maid I desire or dislike, Flaccus? I dislike one too easy, and one too coy. The just mean, which lies between the two extremes, is what I approve; I like neither that which tortures, nor that which cloys.

LVIII. DE PUERI PRETIO.

[Untranslated]

LIX. TO FLACCUS.

The sportula1 at Baiae brings me in a hundred farthings; of what use is such a miserable sum in the midst of such sumptuous baths? Give me back the darksome baths of Lupus and Gryllus. When I sup so scantily, Flaccus, why should I bathe so luxuriously?

1 Sportula. A present from the richer class to the poorer; nominally the price of a supper. See Dict. Antiqq. s. v.

LX. ON THE LION AND HARE.

Hare, although you enter the wide jaws of the fierce lion, still he imagines his mouth to be empty. Where is the back on which he shall rush? where the shoulders on which he shall flail? where shall he fix those deep bites which he inflicts on young bulls? why do you in vain weary the lord and monarch of the groves? 'Tis only on the wild prey of his choice that he feeds.

LXI. TO LICINIANUS, ON THE COUNTRIES OF CELEBRATED AUTHORS.

Verona loves the verses of her learned Poet; Mantua is blest in her Maro; the territory of Apona is renowned for its Livy, its Stella, and not less for its Flaccus. The Nile, whose waters are instead of rain, applauds its Apollodorus; the Pelignians vaunt their Ovid. Eloquent Cordova speaks of its two Senecas and its single and preeminent Lucan. Voluptuous Gades delights in her Canius,1 Emerita in my friend Decianus. Our Bilbilis will be proud of you, Licinianus, nor will be altogether silent concerning me.

1 See b. iii. Ep. 20.

LXII. ON LAEVINA.

Laevina, so chaste as to rival even the Sabine women of old, and more austere than even her stern husband, chanced, while entrusting herself sometimes to the waters of the Lucrine lake, sometimes to those of Avernus, and while frequently refreshing herself in the baths of Baiae, to fall into flames of love, and, leaving her husband, fled with a young gallant. She arrived a Penelope, she departed a Helen.

LXIII. TO CELER.

You ask me to recite to you my Epigrams. I cannot oblige you; for you wish not to hear them, Celer, but to recite them.1

1 To plagiarise them from me, and then to recite them as your own.

LXIV. TO FABULLA.

You are pretty,----we know it; and young,----it is true; and rich,----who can deny it? But when you praise yourself extravagantly, Fabulla, you appear neither rich, nor pretty, nor young.

LXV. TO CAECILIANUS.

When I said ficus, you laughed at it as a barbarous word, Caecilianus, and bade me say ficos. I shall call the produce of the fig-tree ficus; yours I shall call ficos.1

1 An untranslatable jest on the double meaning of the word ficus, which, when declined ficus, -i, means piles or someone afflicted with it; and when ficus -lis, a fig-tree.

LXVI. TO A PLAGIARIST.

You are mistaken, insatiable thief of my writings, who think a poet can be made for the mere expense which copying, and a cheap volume cost. The applause of the world is not acquired for six or even ten sesterces. Seek out for this purpose verses treasured up, and unpublished efforts, known only to one person, and which the father himself of the virgin sheet, that has not been worn and scrubbed by bushy chins, keeps sealed up in his desk. A well-known book cannot change its master. But if there is one to be found vet unpolished by the pumice-stone, yet unadorned with bosses and cover, buy it: I have such by me, and no one shall know it. Whoever recites another's compositions, and seeks for fame, must buy, not a book, but the author's silence.

LXVII. TO CHOERILUS.

"You are too free-spoken," is your constant remark to me, Choerilus. He who speaks against you, Choerilus, is indeed a free speaker.1

1 Free from all restraint, for he may say all sorts of things against you without fear of contradiction.

LXVIII. ON RUFUS.

Whatever Rufus does, Naevia is all in all to him. Whether he rejoices, or mourns, or is silent, it is ever Naevia. He eats, he drinks, he asks, he refuses, he gesticulates, Naevia alone is in his thoughts: if there were no Naevia, he would be mute. When he had written a dutiful letter yesterday to his father, he ended it with, "Naevia, light of my eyes, Naevia, my idol, farewell" Naevia read these words, and laughed with downcast looks. Naevia is not yours only: what madness is this, foolish man?

LXIX. TO MAXIMUS.

Tarentos,3 which was wont to exhibit the statue of Pan, begins now, Maximus, to exhibit that of Canius.

3 Tarentos, a place in the Campus Martius, in which was a temple consecrated to Plato, and filled with statues of Pan, the Satyrs, and other deities or remarkable personages. On Canius, a humorous poet of Gades, whose statue, it appears, was put there with Pan's, see above, Ep. 61; B. iii. Ep. 29.

LXX. TO HIS BOOK.

Go, my book, and pay my respects for me: you are ordered to go, dutiful volume, to the splendid halls of Proculus. Do you ask the way? I will tell you. You will go along by the temple of Castor, near that of ancient Vesta, and that goddess's virgin home. Thence you will pass to the majestic Palatine edifice on the sacred hill, where glitters many a statue of the supreme ruler of the empire. And let not the ray-adorned mass of the Colossus detain you, a work which is proud of surpassing that of Rhodes. But turn aside by the way where the temple of the wine-bibbing Bacchus rises, and where the couch of Cybele stands adorned with. pictures of the Corybantes. Immediately on the left is the dwelling with its splendid facade, and the halls of the lofty mansion which you are to approach. Enter it; and fear not its haughty looks or proud gate; no entrance affords more ready access; nor is there any house more inviting for Phoebus and the learned sisters to love. If Proculus shall say, "But why does he not come himself?" you may excuse me thus, "Because he could not have written what is to be read here, whatever be its merit, if he had come to pay his respects in person."

LXXI. TO SLEEP.

Let Laevia be toasted with six cups,. Justine with seven, Lycas with five, Lyde with four, Ida with three. Let the number of letters in the name of each of our mistresses be equalled by the number of cups of Falernian. But, since none of them comes, come you, Sleep, to me.

LXXII. TO FIDENTINUS, A PLAGIARIST.

Do you imagine, Fidentinus, that you are a poet by the aid of my verses, and do you wish to be thought so? Just so does Aegle think she has teeth from having purchased bone or ivory. Just so does Lycoris, who is blacker than the falling mulberry, seem fair in her own eyes, because she is painted. You too, in the same way that you are a poet, will have flowing locks when you are grown bald.

LXXIII. TO CAECILIANUS.

These was no one in the whole city, Caecilianus, who desired to meddle with your wife, even gratis, while permission was given; but now, since you have set a watch upon her, the crowd of gallants is innumerable. You are a clever fellow!

LXXIV. TO PAULA.

He was your gallant, Paula; you could however deny it He is become your husband; can you deny it now, Paula? 1

1 He was said to be your gallant when your first husband was alive. You then denied it. You married him as soon as your husband died. Will you deny it now?

LXXV. ON LINUS.

He who prefers to give Linus the half of what he wishes to borrow, rather than to lend him the whole, prefers to lose only the half.

LXXVI. TO VALERIUS FLACCUS.1

Flaccus, valued object of my solicitude, hope and nursling of the city of Antenor,2 put aside Pierian strains and the lyre of the Sisters; none of those damsels will give you money. What do you expect from Phoebus? The cheat of Minerva contains the cash; she alone is wise, she alone lends to all the gods. What can the ivy of Bacchus give? The dark tree of Pallas bends down its variegated boughs under the load of fruit. Helicon, besides its waters and the garlands and lyres of the goddesses, and the great but empty applause of the multitude, has nothing. What have you to do with Cirrha? What with bare Permessis? The Roman forum is nearer and more lucrative. There is heard the chink of money; but around our desks and barren chairs kisses 3 alone resound.

Though midst the noblest poets you have place, Flaccus, the offering of Antenor's race; Renounce the Muses' songs and charming quire, For none of them enrich, though they inspire. Court not Apollo, Pallas has the gold; She 's wise, and does the gods in mortgage hold. What profit is there in an ivy wreath? Its fruits the loaden olive sinks beneath. In Helicon there's nought but springs and bays, The Muses' harps loud sounding empty praise.

1 The author of the Argonautica. 2 The city of Patavium, founded by Antenor 3 As tokens of applause.

LXXVII. ON CHARINUS.

Charinus is perfectly well, and yet he is pale; Charinus drinks sparingly, and yet he is pale; Charinus digests well, and yet he is pale; Charinus suns himself and yet he is pale; Charinus dyes his skin, and yet he is pale; Charinus indulges in [infamous debauchery], and yet he is pale.1

1 That is, he does not blush at his infamy.

LXXVIII. ON FESTUS, WHO STABBED HIMSELF.

When a devouring malady attacked his unoffending throat, and its black poison extended its ravages over his face, Festus, consoling his weeping friends, while his own eyes were dry, determined to seek the Stygian lake. He did not however pollute his pious mouth with secret poison, or aggravate his sad fate by lingering famine, but ended his pure life by a death befitting a Roman, and freed his spirit in a nobler way. This death fame may place above that of the great Cato; for Domitian was Festus' friend.2

2 Cato said that he died to avoid looking on the face of the tyrant Caesar.

LXXIX. TO ATTALUS, A BUSY-BODY.

Attalus, you are ever acting the barrister, or acting the man of business: whether there is or is not a part for you to act, Attalus, you are always acting a part. If lawsuits and business are not to be found, Attalus, you act the mule-driver. Attalus, lest a part should be wanting for you to act, act the part of executioner on yourself..

You act the pleader, and you act the man Of business; acting is your constant plan: So prone to act, the coachman's part is tried; Lest all parts fail you, act the suicide.       L. H. S.

LXXX. TO CANUS.

On the last night of your lift, Canus, a sportula was the object of your wishes. I suppose the cause of your death was, Canus, that there was only one.1

1 He had hoped for several largesses; he died of mortification at receiving only one.

LXXXI. TO SOSIBIANUS.

You know that you are the son of a slave, and you ingenuously confess it, when you call your father, Sosibianus, "master".2

2 The mother of Sosibianus had been guilty of adultery with a slave. When Sosibianus calls his reputed father Dominus, as a title of respect, but which was also a term for a master of slaves, he confessed himself a verna, or born-slave.

LXXXII. ON REGULUS.

See from what mischief this portico, which, overthrown amid clouds of dust, stretches its long ruins over the ground, lies absolved. For Regulus had but just been carried in his litter under its arch, and had got out of the way, when forthwith, borne down by its own weight, it fell; and, being no longer in fear for its master, it came down free from blood-guiltiness, a harmless ruin, without any attendant anxiety. After the fear of so great a cause for complaint is passed, who would deny, Regulus, that you, for whose sake the fall was harmless, are an object of care to the gods?

LXXXIII. ON MANNEIA.

Your lap-dog, Manneia, licks your mouth and lips: I do not wonder at a dog liking to eat ordure.1

1 A sarcasm on the foulness of Manneia's breath.

LXXXIV. ON QUIRINALIS.

Quirinalis, though he wishes to have children, has no intention of taking a wife, and has found out in what way he can accomplish his object. He takes to him his maid-servants, and fills his house and his lands with slave-knights.2 Quirinalis is a true pater-familias.

2 Equitibus vernis. (See Heinrich on Juv. ix. 10.)  Eques verna, the offspring of a knight and a slave.

LXXXV. ON AN AUCTIONEER.

A wag of an auctioneer, offering for sale some cultivated heights, and some beautiful acres of land near the city, says, "If any one imagines that Marius is compelled to sell, he is mistaken; Marius owes nothing: on the contrary, he rather has money to put out at interest." "What is his reason, then, for selling?" "In this place he lost all his slaves, and his cattle, and his profits; hence he does not like the locality." Who would have made any offer, unless he had wished to lose all his property? So the ill-fated land remains with Marius.

LXXXVI. ON NOVIUS.

Novius is my neighbour, and may be reached by the hand from my windows. Who would not envy me, and think me a happy man every hour of the day when I may enjoy the society of one so near to me? But, he is as far removed from me as Terentianus, who is now governor of Syene on the Nile. I am not privileged either to live with him, or even see him, or hear him; nor in the whole city is there any one at once so near and so far from me. I must remove farther off, or he must. If any one wishes not to see Novius, let him become his neighbour or his fellow-lodger.

My neighbour Hunks's house and mine Are built so near they almost join; The windows too project so much, That through the casements we may touch. Nay, I'm so happy, most men think, To live so near a man of chink, That they are apt to envy me, For keeping such good company: But he's far from me, I vow, As London is from good Lord Howe; For when old Hunks I chance to meet, Or one or both must quit the street. Thus he who would not see old Roger, Must be his neighbour----or his lodger.    Swift

LXXXVII. TO FESCENNIA.

That you may not be disagreeably fragrant with your yesterday's wine, you devour, luxurious Fescennia, certain of Cosmus's1 perfumes. Breakfasts of such a nature leave their mark on the teeth, but form no barrier against the emanations which escape from the depths of the stomach. Nay, the fetid smell is but the worse when mixed with perfume, and the double odour of the breath is carried but the farther. Cease then to use frauds but too well known, and disguises well understood; and simply intoxicate yourself!

1 Cosmus: a celebrated perfumer of the day, and frequently mentioned.

LXXXVIII. ON ALCIMUS.

Alcimus, whom, snatched from your lord in your opening years, the Labican earth covers with light turf, receive, not a nodding mass of Parian marble,----an unenduring monument which misapplied toil gives to the dead,----but shapely box-trees and the dark shades of the palm leaf, and dewy flowers of the mead which bloom from being watered with my tears. Receive, dear youth, the memorials of my grief: this tribute will live for you in all time. When Lachesis shall have spun to the end of my last hour, I shall ask no other honours for my ashes.

LXXXIX. TO CINNA.

You always whisper into every one's ear, Cinna; you whisper even what might be said in the hearing of the whole world. You laugh, you complain, you dispute, you weep, you sing, you criticise, you are silent, you are noisy; and all in one's ear. Has this disease so thoroughly taken possession of you, that you often praise Caesar, Cinna, in the ear? 1

1 When his praise ought to be proclaimed aloud everywhere.

XC. ON BASSA.

Inasmuch as I never saw you, Bassa, surrounded by a crowd of admirers, and report in no case assigned to you a favoured lover; but every duty about your person was constantly performed by a crowd of your own sex, without the presence of even one man; you seemed to me, I confess it, to be a Lucretia.

XCI. TO LAELIUS.

You do not publish your own verses, Laelius; you criticise mine. Pray cease to criticise mine, or else publish your own.

You blame my verses and conceal your own: Either publish yours, or else let mine alone!                                                   Anon. 1695.

XCII. TO MAMURIANUS.

Cestus with tears in his eyes often complains to me, Hamurianus, of being touched with your finger. You need not use your finger merely; take Cestos all to yourself if nothing else is wanting in your establishment, Mamurianus.2 But if you have neither fire, nor legs for your bare bedstead, nor broken basin of Chione or Antiope;3 if a cloak greasy and worn hangs down your back, and a Gallic jacket covers only half of your loins; and if you feed on the smell alone of the dark kitchen, and drink on your knees dirty water with the dog;

Non culum, neque enim est cuius, qui non cacat olim, Sed fodiam digito qui super est oculum.4 Nec me zelotypum nec dixeris esse malignum: Denique paedica, Mamuriane, satur.

2 Mamurianus is ridiculed for his sordid and licentious life. He had but one eye, as appears from what is said below. Cestus was Martial's servant. 3 Names of courtesans, from whom Martial intimates that Mamurianus would accept broken vessels. 4 A play on the words culus and oculus. A common threat was, "Oculos tibieffodiam," often used in Plautus.

XCIII. ON AQUINUS AND FABRICIUS.

Here reposes Aquinas, reunited to his faithful Fabricius, who rejoices in having preceded him to the Elysian retreats. This double altar bears record that each was honoured with the rank of chief centurion; but that praise is of still greater worth which you read in this shorter inscription: Both were united in the sacred bond of a well-spent life, and, what is rarely known to fame, were friends.

XCIV. TO AEGLE THE FELLATRIX.

[Not translated in the Bohn - adapted from the Loeb]

Badly you sang while you fornicated, Aegle.  Now you sing well; but I won't kiss you.

XCV. TO AELIUS.

In constantly making a clamour, and obstructing the pleaders with your noise, Aelius, you act not without an object; you look for pay to hold your tongue.

That bawlers you out-bawl, the busy crush, No idler you, who bring to sale your hush.                                        Elphinston.

XCVI. TO HIS VERSE, ON A LICENTIOUS CHARACTER.

If it is not disagreeable, and does not annoy you, my verse, say, I pray, a word or two in the ear of our friend Maternus, so that he alone may hear. That admirer of sad-coloured coats, clad in the costume of the banks of the river Baetis, and in grey garments, who deems the wearers of scarlet not men, and calls amethyst-coloured robes the dress of women, however much he may praise natural hues, and be always seen in dark colours, has at the same time morals of an extremely flagrant hue. You will ask whence I suspect him of effeminacy. We go to the same baths; Do you ask me who this is? His name has escaped me.

XCVII. TO NAEVOLUS.

When every one is talking, then and then only, Naevolus, do you open your month; and you think yourself an advocate and a pleader. In such a way every one may be eloquent. But see, everybody is silent; say something now, Naevolus.

XCVIII. TO FLACCUS, ON DIODORUS.

Diodorus goes to law, Flaccus, and has the gout in his feet But he pays his counsel nothing; surely he has the gout also in his hands.

XCIX. TO CALENUS.

But a short time since, Calenus, you had not quite two millions of sesterces; but you were so prodigal and open-handed, and hospitable, that all your friends wished you ten millions. Heaven heard the wish and our prayers; and within, I think, six months, four deaths gave you the desired fortune. But you, as if ten millions had not been left to you, but taken from you, condemned yourself to such abstinence, wretched man, that you prepare even your most sumptuous feasts, which you provide only once in the whole year, at the cost of but a few dirty pieces of black coin; and we, seven of your old companions, stand you in just half a pound of leaden money. What blessing are we to invoke upon you worthy of such merits? We wish you, Calenus, a fortune of a hundred millions. If this falls to your lot, you will die of hunger.

C. ON AFRA.

Afra talks of her papas and her mammas; but she herself may be called the grandmamma of her papas and mammas.

CI. ON THE DEATH OF HIS AMANUENSIS DEMETRIUS.

Demetrius, whose hand was once the faithful confidant of my verses, so useful to his master, and so well known to the Caesars, has yielded up his brief life in its early prime. A fourth harvest had been added to his years, which previously numbered fifteen. That he might not, however, descend to the Stygian shades as a slave, I, when the accursed disease had seized and was withering him, took precaution, and remitted to the sick youth all my right over him as his master; he was worthy of restoration to health through my gift.1 He appreciated, with failing faculties, the kindness which he had received; and on the point of departing, a free man, to the Tartarean waters, saluted me as his patron.

1 I.e. I wish my gift could have restored him to health.

CII. TO LYCORIS.

The painter who drew your Venus, Lycoris, paid court, I suppose, to Minerva.2

2 Represented Venus less beautiful than she is, in order to please Minerva, her rival for the golden apple.

CIII. TO SCAEVOLA.

"If the gods were to give me a fortune of a million sesterces," you used to say, Scaevola, before you were a full knight,1 "oh how would I live! how magnificently, how happily!" The complaisant deities smiled and granted your wish. Since that time your toga has become much more dirty, your cloak worse; your shoe has been sewn up three and four times; of ten olives the greater portion is always put by, and one spread of the table serves for two meals; the thick dregs of pink Vejentan wine are your drink; a plate of lukewarm peas costs you a penny; your mistress a penny likewise. Cheat and liar, let us go before the tribunal of the gods; and either live, Scaevola, as befits you, or restore to the gods your million sesterces.

1 That is, before you had four hundred thousand sesterces; which was the fortune that a man must have before he could be a knight

CIV. ON A SPECTACLE IN THE ARENA.

When we see the leopard bear upon his spotted neck a light and easy yoke, and the furious tigers endure with patience the blows of the whip; the stags champ the golden curbs; the Libyan bears tamed by the bit; a boar, huge as that which Calydon is said to have produced, obey the purple muzzle; the ugly buffaloes drag chariots, and the elephant, when ordered to dance nimbly, pay prompt obedience to his swarthy leader; who would not imagine such things a spectacle given by the gods? These, however, any one disregards as of inferior attraction who sees the condescension of the lions, which the swift-footed timorous hares fatigue in the chase. They let go the little animals, catch them again, and caress them when caught, and the latter are safer in their captors' mouths than elsewhere; since the lions delight in granting them free passage through their open jaws, and in holding their teeth as with fear, for they are ashamed to crush the tender prey, after having just come from slaying bulls; This clemency does not proceed from art; the lions know whom they serve.

CV. TO QUINTUS OVIDIUS.

The wine, Ovidius, which is grown in the Nomentan fields, in proportion as it receives the addition of years, puts off, through age, its character and name; and the jar thus ancient receives whatever name you please.1

1 Being mellowed by age, it maybe called Falernian, Cecuban, or any other name given to the best wines.

CVI. TO RUFUS.

Rufus, you often pour water into your wine, and, if hard pressed by your companion, you drink just a cup now and then of diluted Falernian. Pray, is it that Naevia has promised you a night of bliss; and you prefer by sobriety to enhance your enjoyment? You sigh, you are silent, you groan: she has refused you. You may drink, then, and often, cups of four-fold size, and drown in wine your concern at her cruelty. Why do you spare yourself, Rufus? You have nothing before you but to sleep.

CVII. TO LUCIUS JULIUS.

You often say to me, dearest Lucius Julius, "Write something great: you take your ease too much." Give me then leisure,----but leisure such as that which of old Maecenas gave to his Horace and his Virgil -- and I would endeavour to write something which should live through time, and to snatch my name from the flames of the funeral pyre. Steers are unwilling to carry their yoke into barren fields. A fat soil fatigues, but the very labour bestowed on it is delightful.

CVIII. TO GALLUS.

You possess----and may it be yours and grow larger through a long series of years----a house, beautiful I admit, but on the other side of the Tiber. But my garret looks upon the laurels of Agrippa; and in this quarter I am already grown old. I must move, in order to pay you a morning call, Gallus, and you deserve this consideration, even if your house were still farther off. But it is a small matter to you, Gallus, if I add one to the number of your toga-clad visitors; while it is a great matter to me, if I withhold that one. I myself will frequently pay my respects to you at the tenth hour.1 This morning my book shall wish you "good day" in my stead.

1 The tenth hour from sunrise, corresponding to our four o'clock is the afternoon. SeeB. iv. Ep. 8.

CIX. ON A PET DOG AND THE PAINTER.

Issa is more playful than the sparrow of Catullus. Issa is more pure than the kiss of a dove. Issa is more loving than any maiden. Issa is dearer than Indian gems. The little dog Issa is the pet of Publius. If she complains, you will think she speaks. She feels both the sorrow and the gladness of her master. She lies reclined upon his neck, and sleeps, so that not a respiration is heard from her. And, however pressed, she has never sullied the coverlet with a single spot; but rouses her master with a gentle touch of her foot, and begs to be set down from the bed and relieved. Such modesty resides in this chaste little animal; she knows not the pleasures of love; nor do we find a mate worthy of so tender a damsel. That her last hour may not carry her off wholly, Publius has her limned in a picture, in which you will see an Issa so like, that not even herself is so like herself. In a word, place Issa and the picture side by side, and you will imagine either both real, or both painted.

CX. TO VELOX.

You complain, Velox, that the epigrams which I write are long. You yourself write nothing; your attempts are shorter.1

1 Imperfect; abortive; ending in nothing.

CXI. TO REGULUS, ON SENDING HIM A BOOK AND A PRESENT OF FRANKINCENSE.

Since your reputation for wisdom, and the care which you bestow on your labours, are equal, and since your piety is not inferior to your genius, he who is surprised that a book and incense are presented to you, Regulus, is ignorant how to adapt presents to deserts.

CXII. ON PRISCUS, A USURER.

When I did not know you, I used to address you as my lord and king. Now, since I know you well, you shall be plain Priscus with me.

CXIII. TO THE READER.

If, reader, you wish to employ some good hours badly, and are an enemy to your own leisure, you will obtain whatever sportive verses I produced in my youth and boyhood, and all my trifles, which even I myself have forgotten, from Quintus Pollius Valerianus, who has resolved not to let my light effusions perish.

CXIV. TO FAUSTINUS.

These gardens adjoining your domain, Faustinus, and these small fields and moist meadows, Telesphorus Faenius owns. Here he has deposited the ashes of his daughter, and has consecrated the name, which you read, of Antulla;----though his own name should rather have been read there. It had been more just that the father should have gone to the Stygian shades; but, since this was not permitted, may he live to honour his daughter's remains.

CXV. TO PROCILLUS.

A certain damsel, envious Procillus, is desperately in love with me,----a nymph more white than the spotless swan, than silver, than snow, than lily, than privet: already you will be thinking of hanging yourself, But I long for one darker than night, than the ant, than pitch, than the jack-daw, than the cricket. If I know you well, Procillus, you will spare your life.

CXVI. ON THE TOMB OF ANTULLA.

This grove, and these fair acres of cultivated land, Faenius has consecrated to the eternal honour of the dead. In this tomb is deposited Antulla, too soon snatched from her family: in this tomb each of her parents will be united to her. If any one desires this piece of ground, I warn him not to hope for it; it is for ever devoted to its owners.

CXVII. TO LUPERCUS.

Whenever you meet me, Lupercus, you constantly say, "Shall I send my servant, for you to give him your little book of Epigrams, which I will read and return to you directly?" There is no reason, Lupercus, to trouble your servant. It is a lone journey, if he wishes to come to the Pirus;1 and I live up three pairs of stairs, and those high ones. What you want you may procure nearer at hand. You frequently go down to the Argiletum: opposite Caesar's forum is a shop, with pillars on each side covered over with titles of books, so that you may quickly run over the names of all the poets. Procure me there; you will no sooner ask Atrectus,----such is the name of the owner of the shop,----than he will give you, from the first or second shelf a Martial, well smoothed with pumice-stone, and adorned with purple, for five denarii "You are not worth so much," do you say? You are right, Lupercus.

1 The pear-tree. The name of some spot near which Martial lived.

CXVIII. TO CAEDICIANUS.

For him who is not satisfied with reading a hundred epigrams, no amount of trouble is sufficient, Caedicianus.

This text was transcribed by Roger Pearse, Ipswich, UK, 2008. This file and all material on this page is in the public domain - copy freely.

Greek text is rendered using unicode.

Early Church Fathers - Additional Texts

#latin poetry

[sublimegentlemanalpaca]

A Current list of Eldritchicians those developed and under developed.

I will list the Currently thought up Eldritchicians. This might be repetitive but ah well. Will have their name, what Eldritch topics they’re familiar with, any particular interesting bits about them like if they’re part of a Splinter group or what have you. Hope you find this interesting, and if you have any questions be they important or otherwise...please ask away! Please? Alyss Violet Eldridge: First Eldritchician. The Arch Overseer, Founder and leader of the FoE. Adopted daughter of Alvis Vadim Eldritch. Raised by Alvis and the rest of his Fellows. Has learned a little of everything from the each Eldritch Fellow (even Alastor) Skilled in the Rapier, Carnwennanian Dagger, excellent persuader and diplomat (when necessary). Always has a book on her person. Has an Awoken Shadow. Is Dark skinned with unnaturally white hair. Wears three Rings. Her Overseer and Arch Overseer Rings on her left (An Iron Ring set with Amethyst and a Silver Ring set with Lapis Lazuli), and a Ring gifted to her by the Eldritch Fellows which is visibly made of Orichalcum with a brilliant blood red stone of some sort (a very philosophical sort). Immediate superior to all Eldritchicians. Will occasionally not wear her Overseer Rings and go about business as a simple Eldritchician, usually teaming up with Tomomi and Charles Williams. Overseer Secundus Sinbad Al-Amin. A Cartographer and Blacksmith from Damascus. Knows how to make Damascus Steel. Has learned from Alvis(Wisdom) Albus(Ghosts and Sea Creatures) , Algimantas (Items and Objects and Allan (Demons and things considered Demons and such). Vice Chancellor of the Academy for Eldritchicians. An avid Cartographer of Strange and unusual Locales. A friend to Alvis. Wears two rings. One is his Overseer Ring, the other is a Agate Ring which to my knowledge is a custom of Muslim men. If this is incorrect, please correct me. Overseer Morgan Maddox. A Scottish (or Welsh? I’m not sure yet) Warrior. Friend of Alyss. Heads the Saint Alyss Academy for Eldritchicians. Skilled in Spear, and Carnwennanian Dagger. The Overseer who ...oversees the paperwork for the occasional necessary extermination and such? Monster hunting and the like. Learned under the Legendary Scàthach before meeting Alyss and the Eldritch Fellows. As an Eldritchician Studied under Alvis, Algimantas, Albus, and Alaire. Her Spear is made by Albus from The bone of a Sea Monster, Silver, Cold Iron, Meteoric Iron, And Orichalcum. Has a Prosthetic Arm of Magic Silver made by Algimantas. Wears her Overseer Ring on her left hand. Overseer Runa. A Norse Elf who along with her sister Huld followed Alvis around for a month or two certain that he was Odin. When the two realized Alvis was in fact not Odin they stuck around all the same. Runa joined the founding Eldritchicians while Huld helps in managing the Archives alongside Sophocles. Runa is basically the Bard (or Skald I suppose) of the Overseers. Has studied under Alvis, Algimantas, Albus, Alaire (for storytelling). Wears her Overseer Ring on his left hand. Overseer Cosmin The Solomonar: as the Title suggests, Cosmin is a (former?) Solomonar. A Wizard (?) From Romanian Folklore (Mythology?). Controls the Weather and rides a Dragon. Runs the Grey School, modeled after his own Education as a Solomonar at the Scholomance. Already knew a whole lot but has studied with Alvis, Algimantas, Albus, Alaire, and studied with Algernon even. Wears his Overseer Ring Overseer Archimedes: A Mothman. Tall black winged thing . Best friend to Alaire. In charge of the Fellows In Grey, a Splinter group in the Fellowship that deals with Cryptids, Aliens, and so on. Does not wear his Overseer Ring nor any of his pins. He leaves all the stuff which denotes him as an Eldritchician with Alaire. Alaire being the only Eldritch Fellow to actually kinda sorta join the FoE. Sophocles of Alexandria: Head Archivist for the Fellowship. He is not really an Overseer....he is imprisoned in the Archives for having tried stealing a book from Alvis...this did not end well for Sophocles place of Employment, The Library of Alexandria (books were sparred, rest was destroyed). Can not leave the Archives. Medusa: Former Priestess of Athena, Gorgon. Studied Alvis’ Wisdom, Algimantas’ stuff (who she hates), Alpheas, and with Albus. In a Trio with Ismene and Prioska. Studied shapeshifters and transformation with Alphaes (spelling?). In a relationship with Ismene. Her serpent locks are Golden. Ismene: Former Priestess of Athena. Also a Former Statue. Still has some Statue characteristics. Studied with Alvis, Algimantas, and Albus. In a relationship with Medusa. Prioska Lakatos: A Vampire from Hungary. Skilled in Clockwork. Has a Coat she stole from Albus. Calls Albus Alucard. Studied under Albus, Alvis, Algimantas, and Alaire. On a Trio with Ismene and Medusa. Also a part of Alyss’ Intelligentsia (keeping track of other secret Societies and Spy things). Loves teasing Quincey. Quincey Johnathan Jack Harker: Eldest son of Johnathan and Mina Harker. Vampire Hunter. Studied with Albus (Ghosts and stuff), Algimantas, Alvis. Duel wields Bowie Knives (one belonging to his Namesake, the other made of Adamant by Albus). Is Bi...not always the brightest...Can see Ghosts. On a Trio with Horatio and Runa. Might be in a relationship with Huld? Lucius Abraham Arthur Harker: Second Harker Son and Younger brother to Quincey. Is not an Eldritchician. He is a ghost though and is haunting his Brother (‘To keep an eye on my dummy of a Brother so he doesn’t get himself killed). Will regularly set up Hauntings so as to set up his brother with Eligible Bachelors and Bachelorettes and so on. Huld: Norse elf who followed Alvis for months thinking he was Odin with her sister Runa. Might be in a relationship with Quincey? Learned from Alaire, Albus, Algimantus, as well Alewar (Eldritch Horrors In a Extra Planetary Or Lovecraftian sense), and Alwin (Fae and Elves). In a relationship with Quincey? Leader of her Trio? Horatio aka ‘Doctor Faustus’: A Danish Man recognized for dressing in all black. Wields a Rapier. Known as Doctor Faustus since he’s studied Demons with Allan and he studied at Wittenberg. Studied with Alaire and has an Awoken Shadow. It is named but he always says it so quietly, only Horatio and Alaire know the name. Quincey has been able to catch that the name of Horatio’s Shadow starts with an H...followed by an A. Horatio has put all his Eldritch studies into Shadows, Demons and Ghosts. It is rumored he gave his Soul over to Allan V Eldritch. Wields a Carnwennanian Dagger Or a Bespoked Bodkin. Leaving his own Shadow...Lighter for lack of a better phrase . In a Trio with Quincey and Huld. Aeschylus Adams: A Werewolf Ranger, and one of Alyss’ Intelligentsia. Think of a mix of Aragorn and Halt O’Carrick. Excellent Thief and Pick pocket. Studied with Alaire (Cryptids, Shadows, and Folklore), Albus, and Algimantas. Studied Druid craft and stuff with Alfr. In a Trio with Midas Little and Murdann. Dr. Mercury Little: one of Four Little Brothers (three of whom are a part of the FoE), differentiated From his brothers by his Seemingly unnatural Silver hair. Studied Angels and Alchemy with Aldread, Albus, Alvis, and Alaire. Murdann Eldritch: A Finwife From Orkney. First Wife of Albus Viggo Eldritch. Joined after having been with Albus for some years. Knows what Albus has to teach, learned from Alvis, and Alfr. An exceptional Healer. Regularly has Weaving Contests with Ismene and Medusa. In a Trio with Dr Little and Aeschylus. Open relationship with Albus. Dr. Hermes Little: Same as Doctor Mercury Little. Only he has white Hair. Eldest of the Little ‘Brothers’. Studied all the same stuff. In a Trio with Charles Williams and Clarissa Williams. Charles Williams: Once an Editor now an Eldritchician. Tried repeatedly to join the FoE and finally managed it after trying forever. Studied Alchemy and Angels with Aldread, Magical Items with Algimantas (specifically Relics), Ghosts with Albus, and a bunch of others (Alvis, Alwin, and Algernon). The Left hand of the Arch Overseer. Go to diplomat between other Secret Societies. One of Alyss’ Intelligentsia( occasionally answers to the Codename Walsingham). Also, I should mention he’s an ESPer....Telepathy, Telekinesis, and Pyrokinesis for fun ;) . Clarissa Williams: Alternate Charles Williams. ESPER, Can see Ghosts Naturally. Intelligentsia member (Code Name Francis). Dr. Midas Little: same as the other Doctor Littles except that his hair is Golden. In a Trio with Tomomi and Dr. Leeds. Tomomi.: a Kitsune, friend to Alyss since she (Alyss) was young. Expert on Yokai and things. Studied with Alaire, Alvis, Albus, Algimantus and Alpheas (because shapeshifting). Just decided to be the guardian of Alvis’ Bookshop when they were in Japan one time. In a Trio with Dr. Midas Little and Dr. Leeds. when not going on solo missions for Alyss. A part of Alyss’ Intelligentsia (Code Name Dee, because she wasn’t fond of Kit Marlowe as a Codename). Doctor Mary Leeds: 12th Child of the Leeds family and the immediate Elder sibling and Caretaker to John Daniel Leeds...aka...the Jersey Devil. A Medicinal Doctor. Studied with Albus, Alvis, Algimantas, and Alaire. Stood up for her baby Brother when he killed one of the Night Crawlers working for Archimedes. She keeps track of Her Brother to make sure he doesn’t cause trouble (otherwise Archimedes and Alaire will need to deal with him). Learned medicine from the Black Doctor Ghost. One of the Fellows In Grey. Developed the spray they use to wipe memories and things. Mr Erland Ranswell: A Grey Alien in a Grey Suit. One of Archimedes’ Fellows In Grey. A Linguist and Cartographer. Has endeavored to learn the Whooping language of the Fresno Nightcrawlers Employed by Archimedes and Alaire. In a Trio ‘officially’ but not really with Dr. Livesey and Dr. Mercury Little. Dr. Yorick Roger Livesey: Once a Ship’s Surgeon now an animate Skeleton (rather than a Ghost like most who stay at Albus’ Lighthouses). Dressed in Piratey clothes and wears one of Albus’ old Coats when not doing Surgery or what have you. Has studied with Albus, Alaire, and Alvis. As well as Algernon. Can not speak and communicates In two ways. Either sign language or a horrible creaking noise that has an echo of bone saws. The first is interpreted by a Talking Raven Named Apollo Teach, the second by a Talking Snake Named Asclepius Hands. Asclepius’ Voice is supposed to serve as an auditory Balm after hearing Yorick Speak. Dr. Livesey gets along with Murdann and Prioska. He works closely with Albus ( being his First mate in a way?). Teaches medicine at Sinbad’s College for Eldritchicians. When out and about he will wear gloves and a mask to hide the whole...being a Skeleton thing. Dr. Mercury Little: Same as the other Little’s his hair is Silver and he looks younger than Hermes Little. Miss Calista Flatwood: Archimedes Second in command for running the Fellows In Grey. Is the Flatwoods Monster.... Mister Ray Green: A little green Alien. Astro Cartographer. Teleportation technology? I don’t know. Just thought to have a little green man. One of the Fellows In Grey. Let’s see am I forgetting anyone...ah right. Rosemary: A Fairy, once Royal Retainer to King Alberich (who is now Alwin) V Eldritch. Corrupter of Words. A Member of Alyss’ Intelligentsia, Rosemary keeps his eye on the the goings ons of The Fae Courts since his Master has had to abdicate. Is ultimately Loyal to Alwin, but works for Alyss under Alwin’s orders. The expert on Fae among the Eldritchicians. The Nightcrawler Corp: A bunch of Fresno Nightcrawlers that act as Scouts and Recon and things. They are Archimedes’ Eyes and ears for all the goings ons of Cryptids and whatever else they’re asked to look into. They answer to Archimedes only or those who relay things from Archimedes. They communicate in a series of Whoops and Kicking. Only Archimedes and Alaire are fluent in their language. The Hide Behind Network/ Erebus Hyde: A Hide Behind was stalking Alaire once...only to get caught by Aldjoy (Alaire’s living Shadow). Alaire befriended the Creature, and gave it the Name Erebus Hyde. The Hide Behind Network is all Hide Behinds being in a sort of Hive Mind (A Hide Mind?) they are many....They are not Shadows as Alaire originally thought. But they are something...something Old...perhaps only younger then the Eldritch Fellows themselves. Certain Eldritchicians (Dr. Leeds, Horatio, Overseer Morgan and others) know when a Hidebehind is behind them, and they will be sure to make people who they’re giving messages to know they’re there. They all answer to the name Erebus Hyde...all address Alaire as Friend, (and Address all the other Fellows by that title)...others they’ll address by their relation to Alaire. Okay..I think that’s everyone! And in Trios to! Be sure to ask any questions about any of these Fellows you might have. Stuff subject to change. Make of this what you will. Al, the Chronographing Cottager and Prince of Naming

#FoE #The FoE #OCs #My OCs #Eldritchicians #the Fellowship of Eldritchicians #Make of this what you will #My Writing

[mst3kproject]

Abraxas: Guardian of the Universe

This is another treasure from the dollar bin at Wal-Mart, and unlike some movies I have acquired thus (Samson vs the Vampire Women comes to mind) it was actually worth spending a buck on.  It’s bizarre and hilarious and put me in mind of MST3K even before it became a Rifftrack – and the Rifftrack is great.  It gets off to a very strong start with Mike laughing out loud and going, “no seriously, what’s the real title?”

Abraxas is a Finder, one of ‘the cops of the universe’. His partner Secudus has gone rogue and is out to create a being called the Comator, who will solve the Anti-Life Equation.  What does that mean?  I have no fucking idea but it’s definitely bad, so Abraxas is sent to stop him. Secundus is eventually captured, but not before he impregnates a woman named Sonya, who promptly (and I do mean promptly) gives birth to her son Tommy.  Abraxas is ordered to kill Sonya and Tommy both, but spares them – which just means that six years later, Secundus can escape from prison again and returns to Earth to claim his son.  This is all set to music that sounds like a Kenny G. Christmas album.

This entire movie is just one big what.  You can usually tell what they’re going for but the execution is always weird, starting with the title.  Abraxas: Guardian of the Universe sounds like a shitty 80’s cartoon created to advertise a line of cheap action figures. What the film actually is, is a ripoff of Terminator II: Judgment Day, and nobody much bothers to try to hide that. There’s a precocious little boy with a very important destiny, his independent and protective mother, and two equally threatening burly dudes, one of whom is trying to kill him and one of whom is trying to protect him.  A family dynamic forms between good Burly Dude and the mother and son, while bad Burly Dude pursues them implacably until the final showdown between good and evil.

Because the makers of Abraxas: Guardian of the Universe couldn’t afford to be sued by James Cameron, they have of course made a number of changes to the story, most notably using aliens instead of robots from the future, but the script gives the impression of having been written in too much of a hurry to get these changes right.  For example, one of the rules of the Terminator universe is that you can’t take anything with you back in time, so nobody has any weapons or even any clothing from the future.  Abraxas doesn’t need to keep this rule, but it does anyway, by ‘crossing the teleportation streams’ or something so that both Abraxas and Secundus lose their weaponry (but not, thank god, their clothes) on their way to Earth.  There’s no reason for this, it’s only there because it was there in the Terminator movies.

Occasionally the movie tries to be funny.  It rarely works – the only bit that actually got a snicker out of me on purpose was when a waitress presented Secundus with his bill and he ate it.  The rest of the jokes just fall flat.  There’s a scene in which one alien snippily informs another that “parsecs are not an appropriate Earth time unit!”, and it’s obvious what they’re referencing but that’s not the same as being funny.  Another really bizarre moment has Abraxas telling some campers that the artificial intelligence implanted in his wrist, his ‘Answer Box’, can find Secundus by detecting his vibrational frequency, and what he actually says is “my Box has V.D.” Was that a joke?  If so, was Ventura in on it?  Or did somebody just think it would be really funny to trick him into saying that his vagina has an STI?  What?

On a similar note, there’s a bit where Abraxas, sitting in bed with no shirt on, tells Tommy he’s going to tell him a story ‘about two men who were partners’.  I’m at least pretty sure that wasn’t an intentional innuendo but man, it’s an icky thing for a large hairy man to say to a six-year-old boy.

The main thing people who’ve seen this movie remember about it is the soundtrack, which is entirely inexplicable.  There’s one little strain that really does sound like the opening to I’ll be Home for Christmas on alto saxophone, and the fact that the whole movie happens in the winter only heightens the effect.  This is the entire score, too – Sonya contemplates killing her child, then decides against it, to saxophone music.  Abraxas and Secundus pursue each other through the woods to saxophone music.  The one major exception is the song that plays over the final showdown and that’s equally out of place.  What were they thinking?

Performances and casting are weird.  Ventura and Sven-Ole Thorsen mostly come across as robotic, which is okay for nigh-immortal defenders of the cosmos but quickly crumbles when they’re supposed to display emotion, as when Secundus proudly addresses Tommy as ‘my son’ or when Abraxas starts to develop feelings for Sonya.  I have no idea how old Sonya is supposed to be – an early scene with her parents suggests that she’s a teenager but Marjorie Bransfield (Jim Belushi’s wife, if you’re interested) is clearly thirty-odd and nobody tries to make her look younger.  Everybody else is kinda low-level bad with one rather stunning exception, and that’s Francis Mitchell as Tommy.

Tommy never speaks throughout the movie, until he finally gets two words in voiceover at the end – this means that his entire character arc must be communicated non-verbally.  We see that Tommy loves his mother, that he knows he has strange powers and is afraid of them and the harm he could do with them, and that he’s terrified of Secundus but doesn’t know if he should trust Abraxas either. Mitchell isn’t a brilliant child actor but he’s good enough in a movie where very little even rises to that level, and that’s fairly impressive.

If this movie has a point, it’s that there is no destiny – Tommy can be the Comator and bring about the end of the universe, but he doesn’t have to be if he doesn’t want to.  He can choose how he uses his powers.  This is the same thing Kyle Reese tells Sarah Connor in The Terminator: the future isn’t written yet, and our choices are important.  In this one instance, Abraxas actually manages to make its point a bit better than Terminator did, because it doesn’t have the time travel.  The story of Terminator was a closed loop: John Connor sends Kyle Reese back in time to meet Sarah so that John can be born.  All this must happen because in a sense it already did.  Abraxas is not chained to its own ending in this way, and so Tommy’s destiny is entirely his own without requiring a sequel to make it so.

This is also, as the summary implies, a film about rape, and the way the topic is treated ties in with the idea of our destiny being based on our choices.  When Secundus kidnaps Sonya, he tells her I need your body, and makes it clear that he will use it with or without her consent.  When she comes home with an infant, her father throws her out, accusing her of being sexually irresponsible.  Sonya herself is tempted to do violence to the child who will always remind her of this traumatic evening.

But Sonya is actually a pretty tough cookie. She defends herself to her father, telling him she has nothing to be ashamed of.  When she finds herself out in the cold, she picks herself up and builds a life for herself and her child, and she never lets the awful circumstances of Tommy’s conception colour how she treats him.  Because Sonya raises him with love and support, Tommy is able to understand that his destiny does not have to be destruction.  He can at last allow himself to speak, knowing his words will harm no one unless he chooses.

That’s honestly a really powerful arc for a movie, but Abraxas, Guardian of the Universe doesn’t use it effectively.  The acting is way too bad and the situations far too silly for it to have an impact, and the ending focuses on Abraxas and Secundus fighting when it should be about Tommy’s internal struggle. Admittedly, external fistfights are way easier to film, but Sonya and Tommy are the emotional crux of this story, and after the arcs they’ve been through they deserve better than to be spectators at the end.

At some point in the writing process for this movie somebody seems to have realized that if Abraxas is going to be the main character he needs to learn something or evolve somehow, so that’s what they try to do.  How do they do that?  They have him learn emotions.  Yes, it’s really corny.  Yes, it involves falling in love with Sonya and deciding to retire and stay on Earth.  I wonder… if they have more children, will they do it the human way, or will Abraxas hold a hand over her stomach while his Answer Box announces reproduction commenced?  The other way they show us Abraxas learning emotion is having him argue with his Answer Box and eventually tell it to shut up, signifying that he’s becoming less of a machine, himself.  The movie seems to think this is really funny but it’s not.

After two pages of complaining I need to reiterate that Abraxas, Guardian of the Universe is not annoying­-bad, it’s hilarious-bad.  In true B-movie style, its entertainment value lies in the disconnect between what the film-makers were going for and the result they produced.  It’s much like Space Mutiny that way, trying so hard to be epic and falling comically short, and it would have made for similarly classic MST3K.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #abraxas guardian of the universe #tw: rape #90s

[theotherpages]

National Poetry Month #9 - Catullus - Catullus IV

Every rock and roll band occasionally does a ballad. Why? I have no idea, but I assume that they need something slow and easy to sing after bouts of energetic screaming and bashing. In more general terms, even when you’re really good at something, you need to try other things from time to time.

Today we’re going to hop in the Wayback Machine and go sixteen centuries back before Grimald, and talk about about Catullus ( Gaius Valerius Catullus) a Roman poet from the first century BCE. Some 116 of his poems survive to the present day. I was amused to see that half of these are still part of the current AP Latin syllabus.

Catullus, like Grimald, lived in a time of war and turbulence, near the end of the Roman Republic.  He wrote a wide variety of poems, including many short epigrams, and also many poems to his live interest, Clodia. He was a fan of the Greek poet Sappho, so his pet name for her was Lesbia. To students who have studied Latin in school, Catullus was sampled repeatedly, but with much care by our teachers. He could be humorous, and he loved a good insult, but much of it is so sexually explicit that it is difficult to discuss in polite company. Whenever there is a literal and a deeper meaning, teachers were quick to steer conversation into safer waters - which leads us to today’s poem, which has always been one of my favorites.

I think it shows, beautifully, that when the rock & roll poet of his era decided to write something serious instead, the result can be lyrical and memorable. Here it is first, in the original Latin: (don’t worry, you can skip down, I don’t really expect you to read it)

Catullus IV

Phaselus ille, quem videtis, hospites, ait fuisse navium celerrimus, neque ullius natantis impetum trabis nequisse praeterire, sive palmulis opus foret volare sive linteō. Et hoc negat minacis hadriatici negāre litus Insulāsve Cycladās Rhodumque nobilem horridamque Thraciam Propontida trucemve Ponticum sinum, ubi iste post phaselus antea fuit comāta silva; nam Cyrōtiō in iugō loquente saepe sibilum edidit coma. Amastri Pontica et Cytore buxifer, tibi haec fuisse et esse cognitissima ait phaselus, ultimā ex origine tuō stetisse dicit in cacūmine, tuō imbuisse palmulās in aequore, et inde tot per impotentia fretā erum tulisse (laevă sive dexterā vocaret aura, sive utrumque Iuppiter simul secundus incidisset in pedem), neque ulla vota litoralibus deis sibi esse facta, cum veniret a mari novissimo hunc ad usque limpidum lacum. Sed haec prius fuere: nunc reconditā senet quiete seque dedicat tibi, gemelle Castor et gemelle Castoris. 

-- Catullus

And here is my favorite translation (and yes, I had to use the Wayback machine to find it. I wrote it down in 1975). It is about a boat the speaker once traveled on, that he now sees at rest. There are some nice metaphors here on youth and age, excitement, and reaching the end of life. It has a different viewpoint, but bears some similarities to  Tennyson’s Ulysses.

Catullus IV

This ship, friends, tells us it has sailed, Declares it flew upon the sea And, birdlike, flew more rapidly Than all the rest. Swift ships have failed To catch her when they race with oar and sheet. All met with quick defeat, She won the Adriatic’s praise And praise of the Cyclades, Of noble Rhodes, of Thracian seas, Windy and rough, and of the bays Of savage Pontus: she’s made journeys there When other’s wouldn’t dare. Before she traveled far away, Her mast in old Cytoris wood Was once a stately tree and stood And spoke in whispers, and they say Amastis’ and Cytoris’ summits heard Her softly murmured word. This ship says these things were known To them, when she with rustling hair Stood lonely on a summit there: That she in waters madly blown Would steep her palms, and gliding coolly by Scorn every stormy sky. I sailed with her, and I saw how She tacked to right and left and knew The winds of Jupiter which blew Upon her sails or on her bow, She made no vows to gods who ruled the seas But weathered all storms with ease. She made her final Odyssey To this calm bay where she will stay And age in peace and where she may Repose, protected from the sea. Sacred to Castor and his twin, This Ship Has made her final trip. -- Catullus

I remembered this so well, in fact, many decades later, that when I wrote Ethos, the fifth book in The Republic of Dreams, I made one of the key elements of the story a boat named the Tyche (Fortune), whose existence mirror’s Catullus poem (perhaps with a bit bumper ride, though). One of the voices of the series, poet Natalia Yeka, writes an homage to it, echoing Catullus:

 Last Voyage of the Tyche (in the style of Catullus IV)

[Written upon seeing the boat at anchor off Ashkelon]

This boat you see before you, my friends,   Was once the fastest of ships. If her sails and spars could speak, they would attest   How, birdlike, she flew upon the swells, And fled more rapidly before the wind than all the rest. Swift ships of many flags have failed to catch her   As they raced with engine, oar, and unfurled sheet, Every one of them met with quick defeat,   For never was any other hull even half so fleet. She sailed the steep Dalmatian coast,  Flew swiftly through Aegean seas Trading from Rhodes to Thracian shores.   In times of mystery, intrigue, and war, She crossed the Red, Black, and Alborán with ease. Through raging storms and writhing waves,   Round rocky shoals and windswept bays, She’s taken her fearless crew to places where   Other captains would never dare. The trees from which her soul was made   Once stood stately on a mountainside, Weathering wind and rain and conversing with the sky   Asking Aeolus to teach them to fly. And you know, my friends, that he answered. You see her now at rest, not in her accustomed waters deep,   But in the stillness of this harbor. She has made her final Odyssey and earned her sleep   As once she earned her keep, There is only one question I must answer:   Tell me, does Fortune have a daughter? – Natalia Yeka, American Poet (22nd Century CE)

Do you think my high school Latin teacher would be impressed that I still remember this stuff 42 years later? --Steve

#catullus #catullus IV #catullus 4 #national poetry month #rome #roman #latin #poem #poet #poetry #the other pages #theotherpages.org #the republic of dreams #ethos #natalia yeka

[victorluvsalice]

Merry Christmas Ace!

@ace-of-tales Hope you're doing well! I remembered your request from ages ago -- another installment of the "Klaus, Leona, and company end up in Secundus" series we've been doing for a few years now, showing the Libra team battling a Blood Breed in the city and everyone being very impressed and intrigued by their battle skills. Enjoy!

Also That Is Too Much Blood For One Person

“I have to say – I really did not expect there to be so many ways to fashion weapons out of your own blood.”

“It is extremely impressive, isn’t it?” Alice said, watching as Klaus hit the “Blood Breed” – a tall, pale man sporting claws, fangs, and an expression suggesting he wished he was anywhere else right about now – with. . .well, to her it looked like an axe, but as Klaus kept smacking the Blood Breed with the bit she thought of as the “handle,” it was probably an overly-fancy blood sword instead. “They really know what they’re doing.”

“I should say – did you see the white-haired one? Zapp, I believe?” Christopher said, pointing him out as he darted away from a swipe of the Blood Breed’s claws. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone slice up a monster so quickly! And with a sword technically made out of liquid no less!”

“It looks like it crystalizes once it’s outside their bodies,” Richard said, extending his neck to get a better look at the action. “Though, in that case, you’d expect all those blades to be a lot more fragile. They seem to be able to take quite a few hits!”

“Honestly, I’m most impressed with Steven,” Victoria admitted, looking over at the Blood Breed’s minions, currently standing literally frozen in place on the sidelines. “I still don’t know how he did that, but – goodness me, he barely even blinked, and they were just completely out of the fight!”

“Leona told me that that particular party trick involves him turning drops of his own blood into little needles that burrow into his victims, allowing him to flash-freeze them,” Alice told her. “Which is – disconcerting, to say the least, so we should all be grateful he’s using it on the side of good.”

“Really,” Victor agreed, before flinching away as another gigantic spray of blood came very close to his face. It formed into a fancy wall, then slammed into the ground, just in time to halt the Blood Breed as he tried to flee. “I think we can say that for all of them, frankly.”

“Indeed – we’re very lucky that they’re all as keen on fighting and eliminating monsters as I am,” Christopher said, puffing out his chest slightly. “And that they were here for the day when this particular one showed up! I don’t know how well my own sword would have done against this beast.”

“I’m sure you would have been just fine,” Victoria said, with a loyal, loving smile.

“I just wish they’d end it already,” Emily squeaked, half-hidden behind Richard. “I do not like the size of the teeth on that creature!”

“I think they’re trying to weaken it in preparation for the final blow,” Doc assured her, as Richard put his arm around her. “What did Leona say? They need to learn the Breed’s true name before it can be sealed?”

“Yup – that’s her job, to try and learn the name from its aura with her special eyes while the others keep it busy,” Alice said, then spotted a small figure running up to the hulking Klaus. “And if I don’t miss my guess, I think she’s just figured it out. . .yup, here comes the dramatic blood again. . .”

A few more words shouted in a language none of them understood, and suddenly Klaus’s blood wrapped around the Blood Breed like mummy bandages, forcing his form into a T-shape before shrinking down and solidifying into an elaborate metal cross. Klaus picked it up, tucked it away, then turned and waved to the onlookers. “You’re all right over there?”

“Fine!” Marty yelled back. “Awesome work!”

“Quite the show!” Alice added.

“Very impressive!” Christopher agreed.

“How are you not all anemic?”

All eyes went to Richard. “Hey, it’s a fair question,” he said, shrugging. “None of the blood ever seems to go back in their bodies.”

Emily facepalmed. “Richard. . .”

“Uh – never really thought about that?” the one called Zapp said, blinking. “Until now, anyway?”

“Don’t start having existential crises now,” Alice called down. “How about some tea instead?”

“Indeed! My treat!” Richard said brightly. “I think we could all use some!”

“That’s for certain,” Klaus mumbled, then gave them a small smile. “All right then – lead the way.”

#aceoftales #merry xmas #christmas fic #xmas fic #fanfic #blood battle blockade #secundus #we've got a whole series going now don't we? XD #also you can probably tell which techniques I was most easily able to find clips of on YouTube #Steven's IS pretty scary #I mean you don't even know he's managed to DO it until he hits the 'freeze' button so to speak #as that one group threatening him in the clip found out to their detriment #also yes I do have to wonder myself how they're all not anemic XD #I assume either there's an explanation or everyone just glosses over that in the show/manga #maybe the Secundusians can investigate if the latter :p #queued

[viesolivagant]

Logos

"The ancients called the saving word the Logos, an expression of divine reason. So much unreason was in man that he needed reason to be saved. If one waits long enough, one sees how the Gods all change into serpents and underworld dragons in the end. This is also the fate of the Logos: in the end it poisons us all. In time, we were all poisoned, but unknowingly we kept the One, the Powerful One, the eternal wanderer in us away from the poison. We spread poison and paralysis around us in that we want to educate all the world around us into reason.

Some have their reason in thinking, others in feeling. Both are servants of Logos, and in secret become worshipers of the serpent.

You can subjugate yourself, shackle yourself in irons, whip yourself bloody every day: you have crushed yourself, but not overcome yourself. Precisely through this you have helped the Powerful One, strengthened your paralysis, and promoted his blindness. He would like to see it in others, and inflict it on them, and would like to force the Logos on you and others, longingly and tyrannically with blind obstinacy and vacant stubborness. Give him a taste of Logos. He is afraid, and he already trembles from afar since he suspects that he has become outdated, and that a tiny droplet of the poison of Logos will paralyze him. But because he is your beautiful, much loved brother, you will act slavishly toward him and you would like to spare him as you have spared none of your fellow men. You spared no merry and no powerful means to strike your fellow men with the poisoned arrow. Paralyzed game is an unworthy prey. The powerful huntsman, who wrestles the bull to the ground and tears the lion to pieces and strikes the army of Tiamat, is your bow's worthy target.

If you live as he whom you are, He will come running against you impetuously, and you can hardly miss him. He will lay violent hands on you and force you into slavery if you do not remember your terrible weapon, which you have always used in his service against yourself. You will be cunning, terrible, and cold if you make the beautiful and much loved fall. But you should not kill him, even if he suffers and writhes in unbearable agony. Bind the holy Sebastian to a tree and slowly and rationally shoot arrow after arrow into his twitching flesh. When you do so, remind yourself that each arrow that strikes him spares one of your dwarfish and lame brothers. So you may shoot many arrows. But there is a misunderstanding that occurs all too frequently and is almost ineradicable: Men always want to destroy the beautiful and much loved outside themselves, but never within themselves.

He, the beautiful and most loved one, came to me from the East, from just that place which I was seeking to reach. Admiringly I saw his power and magnificence, and I recognized that he was striving for precisely what I had abandoned, namely my dark human milling crowd of abjection. I recognized the blindness and unknowingness of his striving which worked against my desire, and I opened his eyes and lamed his powerful limbs with a poisoned stab. And he lay crying like a child, as that which he was, a child, a primordial grown child that required human Logos. So he lay before me, helpless, my blind God, who had become half-seeing and paralyzed. And compassion seized me, since it was plain to me that I should not let him die, he who approached me from the rising, from that place where he could be well, but which I could never reach. He whom I sought I now possessed. The East could give me nothing other than him, the sick and falled one.

You need to undertake only half of the way, he will undertake the other half. If you go beyond him, blindness will befall you. If he goes beyond you, paralysis will befall him. Therefore, and insofar as it is the manner of the Gods to go beyond mortals, they become paralyzed, and become as helpless as children. Divinity and humanity should remain preserved, if man should remain before the God, and the God remain before the man. The high-blazing flame is the middle way, whose luminous course runs between the human and the divine.

The divine primordial power is blind, since its face has become human. The human is the face of the Godhead. If the God comes near you, then plead for your life to be spared, since the God is loving horror. The ancients said: it is terrible to fall into the hands of the living God. They spoke thus because they knew, since they were still close to the ancient forest, and they turned green like the trees in a childlike manner and ascended far away toward the East.

Consequently they fell into the hands of the living God. They learned to kneel and to lie with their faces down, to beg for pity, and they learned to live in servile fear and to be grateful. But he who saw him, the terrible beautiful one with his black velvet eyes and the long eyelashes, the eyes that do not see but merely gaze lovingly and fearfully, he has learned to cry out and whimper, so that he can at least reach the ear of the Godhead. Only your fearful cry can stop the God. And then you see that the God also trembles, since he stands confronting his face, his observing gaze in you, and he feels unknown power. The God is afraid of man."

C G Jung Liber Secundus The Red Book

#cgjung #liber secundus #theredbook #godhead #god #logos #thinking

[harlockauxillia30k-blog]

Coreward Bound

Klaxons blared, as Harlock awoke to the chaos and discord of a rapid troop redeployment. Mechanical vox-enhanced voices shouted out directives to the cramped halls of the troop deployment, and there was much shouting from sergeants and lieutenants.

Harlock pushed himself up, his eyes glancing at a pamphlet discarded the night before, congratulating him on his recent field-promotion to the rank of major, and a small golden aquila bauble. The memories of the Ferros campaign still stung, even though it had been several months ago. Since that time, there had been many encounters with the traitor legions. The war, unthinkable though it was, did not fare well. The ultramarines left to form a secondary defense in some place called Imperium secundus, while others like the Fists fought for Terra. But Horus’ war machine marched unabated, gaining momentum as imperial defenders struggled to stop their conquest. Harlock had witnessed entire imperial fleets sundered already. At last, it seemed, he would be redeployed home, or close to it, at any rate.

Harlock hastily threw on his new, uncomfortably starched uniform, as another figure in his bed stirred to the noise.

Splayed across the sheets, a much disrobed adept, her many arms strewn about the bed, groaned, then leaned over for a convenient pail and threw up, her messy red hair softly dangling every which way.

“I don’t hold my drink much better than you, Adept Klicke, but I seem to take to the following mornings quite better. Here, this will help.”

Harlock handed her some medicine, and the adept covered herself up in his sheets, looking vaguely upset.

“Why did we do that...” the adept wondered, taking the medicine.

“Imperial rationing; we use one less bed this way. For the emperor.” Harlock joked, only for his pillow to lightly impact his head as he adjusted his buttons.

“I’m- I haven’t been myself. Harlock. I dont know if I can...” Klicke held her head in her hands. Harlock sat next to her.

“You’re doing fine. The crusade claimed our motorized assets, so we’re purely infantry now. You can handle our equipment, I know it. Do that, and no one will question why your here.”

She didnt seem comforted by logic or reason right now. Harlock tried a different angle.

“Damn it, if someone questions you, I’ll shut their loose mouths. Colonel Galente is a good man, he has my back on this. Do your best.”

Melissa scrunched up the blankets in front of her, as her mechadendrites gradually reached for and produced her clothes. “I need to get ready...” she muttered, looking away from him.

Harlock was vaguely hurt, but understood.

“If my actions last night were in any way ungentlemanly, report me.” Harlock said, finishing off his last minute preparations.

“It’s not-” Melissa began, then shook her head. “I’d like to be alone with my thoughts, Major.”

Harlock gave her a curt nod, grabbed his sword and pistol, and walked out.

“If being here has been an... inconvenience to you, there’s a secondary exit in the side wall. Good day Adept. I’m sorry, you feel that way.” Harlock said, as he crossed the threshold into the throng of his centauri riflemen. Immediately, a young lieutenant dashed over to him.

“At last! Sir, we’re being rapidly deployed, the traitor forces just hit Argo, and the local security units are being completely routed at the moment. We think its the Sons of Horus, but it could easily also be another force, we’re trying to shake down crusade command for details.”

Harlock nodded. “Tell the captains to load up with their anti astartes kit, in assault formations. When we land, we need to be mobile, especially since we dont have our vehicles anymore. Hostile legions will bombard or shell us as soon as we’re out of the ships. I want as many medics in as many squads as we can spare as well. Centauri prime has all but stopped sending us new manpower, so we need to conserve our troops.”

Harlock walked towards the Colonel’s position, overseeing a number of simple holomaps, and watched him work.

At the current rate of advance, Traitor legions would be inside of Centauri space within two weeks. In a handful more days, they would be set upon terra itself.

Harlock certainly did not feel he was winning this war.

#post #Klicke needed something Harlock didnt know how to give #When its the end of the world you make bad choices #To be clear- Klicke does not regret it so much as it didnt help her the way she needed it to.

[117--087]

Two Hundred And Four Reasons

Spartan-117 & Spartan-087

[Preface] // [Part 1] // [Part 2] // [Part 3] // [Part 4] // [Part 5] // [Part 6] // [Part 7]

With this past month marking the 4-year anniversary of this blog, I was somewhat at a loss as to what to do to commemorate the occasion...until I remembered there was one more thing I could post as an addendum to my essay series chronicling the development of John-117 and Kelly-087′s relationship throughout Halo canon. There were a few additional pieces of media featuring SPARTAN-II Blue Team that were released in the wake of 2015′s ‘Halo 5: Guardians’ that I think are worth taking a quick look at in regards to how they carry on the tradition of highlighting the bond between a certain Blue-One and Blue-Two.

Through All These Years

The first of the two is an animated miniseries (though more akin to a motion-comic) that loosely adapts the content of both the novel ‘The Fall of Reach’ and its comic book counterpart (which I’ve previously discussed). Like the comic before it though, this miniseries includes a few minor details that differ from the original source text in interesting ways.

The second is a short story from the comic anthology ‘Tales From Slipspace’, called “On The Brink”, and features some panels and dialogue that I feel are very relevant to the content I’ve analyzed so far in regards to Kelly-087′s character and her dynamic with John-117.

We’ll start with the ‘Fall of Reach’ miniseries. Most notably, the animation is bookended by a rather touching scene involving Blue Team returning to the glassed surface of the planet Reach (some time in between late-2557 and mid-2558) in order to hold a private memorial for Samuel-034. But I’ll get back to this after looking at the body of the animation’s content.

To preface: it is worth noting that the animation includes Fred-104 and Linda-058 in events at which they are not canonically present - mainly the “ring the bell” exercise as part of John-117′s team, and as participants in the assault on the Unrelenting in 2525. This was done in order to better familiarize a general audience with them as characters and the roles on Blue Team they would eventually come to fill in the years after the Spartan-IIs’ training in actual Halo canon.

Unlike the comic book version of ‘The Fall of Reach’s events, this miniseries does make sure to include the crucial lesson that John-117 learns from Chief Mendez after putting himself first during the trainees’ initial obstacle course exercise.

“You don’t win unless your team wins.”

Much like in the novelization though, Kelly in particular takes a stand against John’s selfish behavior before he proves he is willing to make amends for his mistake and commit to being a team player.

After the young members of Blue Team reconcile, we are then shown the Spartan-IIs’ wilderness training exercise that takes place two years later. And, in a new addition to this part of the story, we see Sam make a pit-stop to carve the symbol of an eagle and a lightning bolt (which would later become Blue Team’s insignia) into a tree in commemoration of the group’s friendship as John and Kelly look on and consider their next move. As described in ‘The Fall of Reach’, Kelly is noticeably taller than John as a child, which is a small detail I appreciate being included in the animation.

From here things follow the comic adaption pretty closely through the augmentation procedures and the Spartans’ first official mission to Eridanus Secundus to capture insurrectionist Colonel Robert Watts. A few nice asides are made throughout the entire animation where the members of Blue Team casually converse like normal teenagers (making jokes, encouraging one another, offering advice, invitations to do activities, etc.) when not directly engaged in mission-relevant dialogue. So it is good to see this kind of additional humanization of the S-IIs based off of what has long been established about them in Eric Nylund’s books.

Finally the last section of the miniseries is narrated by Kelly-087 herself in flashback (with Michelle Lukes reprising her role from ‘Halo 5: Guardians’), which covers the Spartan-IIs receiving their first sets of MJOLNIR Armor and Sam’s death at the hands of the revealed alien Covenant.

Without quoting every line she says, I will simply say this portion of the animation is well worth watching just for Kelly’s commentary. After Blue Team is outfitted with their suits of Mk. IV armor on Chi Ceti, we come to the Spartans’ infiltration of the Covenant ship Unrelenting. In a small departure from the novel and the comic book, Kelly is actually pulled aboard the vessel by John just as she is about to fly off into space - and though I doubt it was intentional, I find it is an interesting reverse-parallel to what we see in the ‘Halo Legends’ animated short “The Package” all the same.

From here events proceed in general accordance with canon, with Sam’s armor eventually breached by a plasma bolt after being shot while pushing John out of the line of fire. Once Blue Team makes it to the ship’s reactor, they hold off a few waves of Covenant while reading the bomb they brought with them to destroy it. John and Kelly work in tandem as Blue-One and Blue-Two; and in an amusing exchange of roles at one point, we see Kelly take charge of the situation and sprint across the bridge to shut the doors leading to the reactor room while ordering John to complete the work on the nuke.

“I’ll seal the door. John, finish arming that warhead!”

“I remember thinking that no matter how dark the future, we could face it as a team.”

However, as we all know, things reach a breaking point when Sam admits that he has to stay behind on the ship due to the irreparable damage to his armor. This part of Nylund’s book always struck me right in the heart, and the scene here is no exception. This moment is then bolstered by Kelly’s reflection on how this first loss in battle deeply affected not only her and John, but all of Blue Team.

“I know Spartans don't cry...but for once, I was glad for the helmet.”

“We thought training, augmentation, armor made us untouchable, invulnerable, immortal. Blue Team. But we were wrong - we were children. This was the only thing John was ever afraid of: losing one of us. And we knew we weren’t finishing this fight, we were just getting started.”

The animation then ends with the Spartan-IIs visiting the same place Sam originally “carved their mark into the world”. They take a moment to remember their fallen friend and reflect on the meaning of his heroic sacrifice, as the Chief sincerely asks his remaining comrades if they will continue to have faith in him to lead them through whatever lies ahead.

“Last time we were here, I asked Sam to trust me to take us home, to follow me. Will you trust me now? Will you follow me?”

...which plays perfectly into the next section of this write-up.

"On the Brink” is a short comic featuring Blue Team that was relased as part of the ‘Tales From Slipspace’ anthology book in the fall of last year. It takes place in 2558 and is a fairly self-contained story about one of the Spartans’ many exploits after their reunion in 2557. Specifically, they are looking to stop a Mammoth that has been hijacked by some splinter-Covenant from running into a UNSC nuclear reactor. Once again the events are overlayed with a narration by Kelly-087.

The 12-page comic can be viewed in its entirety here. And while it is brief and rather straightforward in terms of the story’s content, there are a few panels that I would like to take a closer look at. Most prominently, this section where Kelly muses on the steadfastness of the Chief’s leadership.

I love How Kelly notes that even though she’s dog-tired and in the middle of a violent firefight, hearing the voice of her best friend is all it takes to renew her focus, confidence, and determination to complete the mission - in a way nothing else can. For his part, John continues to rely Kelly to back him up and talks to her throughout the operation even as her discovery of some civilian scientists aboard the Mammoth forces him to make a risky evasive maneuver in order to save them. And honestly I don’t know what could speak more for the strength of the bond that these two characters have and the kind of trust they have in each other.

After the massive vehicle finally comes to a complete stop, the reactor remains intact and some extensive property damage to the surrounding area is the only fallout of the Covenant attack on the UNSC base. This does not appease the site’s foreman however, and he confronts Blue Team. John keeps his cool while Fred reacts angrily in turn to the man’s disrespect and thankless attitude. Kelly looks on, and can’t help but wonder when John will finally grow weary of the tumultuous and unsure environment the Spartan-IIs have found themselves mired in in the wake of the Human-Covenant War.

The end of this story presents us with quite the conundrum from Kelly’s point of view. Because while she will always support John and believe wholeheartedly in his ability to triumph over adversity, her final thoughts reveal that she does indeed recognize that for all the ways he’s remained stalwart he still has limits too. Just like the rest of them. Which once again works to emphasize how human these characters still are.

These pieces of media continue to paint the same picture of these characters that we have gotten for the last 15+ years: two people who have grown together over a lifetime of experiencing all manner of hardships and yet they maintain a healthy mutual relationship based in respect and honest care. How this may come into play later in the series after the events of ‘Halo 5: Guardians’ remains to be seen, but for now it is good to at least have a few more moments to add to John-117 and Kelly-087′s catalog of positive representation.

#Halo #Master Chief #John 117 #Kelly 087 #S2BlueTeam #Two Hundred And Four Reasons #opinion post #...about a month and a half late - but I got it done!