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maegalkarven · 7 months

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Dreams of Red.

Characters: Enver Gortash, Dark Urge (Nemo).

Set between Empty Prayers and returning to BG in act 3.

Nemo dreams, Gortash wakes up.

TW: blood (mention), physical abuse (mention), choking, suggestive, not toxic but also not a healthy relationship (meaning they are awful but together kind of cancel it for each other).

He dreams of home; not the home in the flesh, but that place of dark alcoves and labyrinths made out of caves. He dreams of blood rivers running down the steps, of red fire lit sockets on a giant skull.

He dreams of his assassins, the unlucky souls who fated to meet him once and were damned enough to be caught in his gaze.

The First kneels before the altar, a tribute plastered on it, eyes closed in a reverent prayer.

She does not actually pray, somehow he knows it as well as he knows how many heartbeats are currently booming inside these halls.

The First is deep in thoughts and her thoughts are dark knots of resentment, anger and despair.

She grieves.

"Reaper of Bhaal," they turn around together as one; the girl made murderer made assassin and the benefactor who brought her there. So close to the girl's body he can taste the blood and sweat on her skin, sees dark shadows under her cold calculating eyes.

"Orin," falls from the First's lips. This is disobedience, he knows it somehow, for she is not simply Orin, but the Chosen of Bhaal.

Or is she?

"Look at what you have done," Orin-not-Orin says and her voice ricochets from the ceiling. It sounds...different.

It multiplies and shakes, and twists, and then suddenly its Sceleritas' voice.

Orin keeps opening and closing her mouth, but the sound he hears does not come from her.

"Look at the deeds of your disobedience. Once proud Temple of the most Gracious of the gods, now intruded upon by a mindless, senseless being you were supposed to enslave," an invisible hand closes over his throat, constricting the air.

He sees black and then red and then - Father.

Father is angry and that anger washes over him in waves, breaking his skin and piercing soft innards.

•••

He is seven again, bloodied heap of limbs on the floor as his caretaker walks around in circles.

"You're weak," Sarevok speaks. The boy hates Sarevok for how much his approval means to him. "You're fragile. You disappoint Father with your single existence. Stand up," a blunt hit across the spine. "Stand up and learn." Another hit. "Prove yourself worthy to be called a Child of Bhaal."

He is seven and he already talks more than he should, so he asks.

"Like you?"

Sarevok's unnaturally bright eyes blaze and the next hit landing on the boy makes him black out for a moment.

"Stand up," he hears again as his conscience returns. "Or die a scum and come back to Him graceless."

He stands up.

•••

Blood fills up his mouth, blood fills up his lungs. He gasps, choking, fighting the gravity - and swims up.

The pool is deeper than it should have been, the sacrificial room is darker, and Father's presence pierces his skull like thousand of red hot needless.

"Beloved son," Sarevok announces and the Echoes repeat. "Prodigal son, bathed in sacrificial blood in Your name, Father. Greet the unholy assassin born anew, Lord Bhaal, grace him with your presence."

He wants to step back, to avoid what is to come, but Bhaal is in his mind in an instance: an endless, darkest, bloodiest night.

The presence of Father is so strong the boy feels his own mind disappear, drown in the sheer force of his father's love.

Finally. He is worthy.

•••

Hands - bloodied, sheets - bloodied. Body after body, cold bed, red bed, sacrificial bed. Lover after lover, dead, dead, dead, dead.

Until the last one.

Until-

•••

He wakes up to the scene of Enver's flushed up face beneath him, the assassin's hands grasping at his throat firmly, pressing down, down, down, until the windpipe gives out, until the light leaves the eyes-

Nemo breaks the hold and collapses into the bed; not his bed, but the one he managed to crawl into in his sleep regardless. Gortash goes into the fit of coughs, proving once again how alive he still is.

Finally the man calms it down and tries his voice, hoarse from all the abuse.

"Good morning to you too."

Nemo doesn't reply, face digging into the rough pillows bellow - they used to be much softer than that - covering himself with Enver's blankets.

"Nemo," he refuses to answer. "Oh, for fuck's sake," the covers are dragged off his head, said head - turned.

Bluish bruises slowly imprint themselves on Enver's neck, prominent even in the dim light of the tent.

He appears to be annoyed.

"I said," the lord repeats. "Good morning."

Nemo contemplates tearing into this throat with bare teeth and chewing his way into the sweet red embrace of it.

"Nemo."

"Morning," he grumbles, unhappy. With this, with them, with the way Enver doesn't even look surprised, doesn't even care he almost died.

Again. He almost died again.

Something in the man's face softens.

"Bad dream?" And it's a cue for Nemo to crawl closer, to plant his face directly into the throat he was just squeezing the life out of, to put his lips to a pulse line and drink in the sound.

"Umgh," he replies unhelpfully. "Father is angry with me."

He can't remember the last time Father was not angry with him.

Enver sighs.

"At least he's still with you."

Nemo bites into the soft flesh slightly and then licks down at the bite.

"I wish he wouldn't," the admittance is so quiet it should be impossible to hear. Enver hears it anyway.

"And what would you do," a soft touch to his temple, nails scratching at the nape of his neck. Nemo feels his body relax at the merest of the contact. "If he'd let you go?"

"Whatever the fuck I want," another half-hearted bite. Enver always tastes divine. It makes Nemo want to tear at his flesh, crawl into his ribcage and stay there, forever as one. "Whoever I want."

"Oh?" His lover chuckles at that. "Have a list of men you want to fuck without killing them?"

No, Nemo thinks. Well, maybe. Not a list, no, but-

"I'd love to wake up someday without my body moving on its accord," he grumbles, tracing a scar down Enver's torso. A long and rigged thing running all the way to his abdomen. One of the earliest marks Nemo has left on him.

"I'm still alive," Gortash reads between the lines.

"You seem to be incredibly unbothered by the way I go for your throat, not even metaphorically speaking," the spawn comments. "Figures you'd be into me failing to kill you."

"You're not failing," Enver's breath burns into his hair, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. "You stray your hand."

"One day I won't."

"Today is not that day."

"You keep saying it every time it happens."

"I am alive every time it happens."

There's blood underneath his nails: it tastes sour.

There's also a row of deep red lines scratched somewhere into Enver's flesh.

Nemo snuggles up closer.

"I hate everything in this world but you," he confesses.

His lordling hums.

"I consider you a rare feat of a person who delights me more than not," he replies.

Nemo laughs.

"Smooth, motherfucker."

Enver gasps, fake-scandalized.

"But dearest, you don't even have a mother for me to fuck."

The spawn giggles like a lovesick girl and closes his eyes.

After a moment he opens his mouth again.

"How is," and how do you say it? How is everything? How are the ruins of your life? How does everyone at the camp treat you?

How does he say what he wants to say without, you know, actually saying it?

"Is Bane still silent?" He resolves on and then mentally kicks himself. Of fucking course Bane is still silent.

But again, so is Gortash.

"Yes," he replies after such suffocating pause Nemo started to wonder who was chocking who. "I...don't think he'll answer."

"I wish Bhaal would shut the fuck up," Nemo blurts and receives a surprised chuckle into his hair.

"Have you tried telling him that?" Even without looking up Nemo knows Gortash is smiling.

"Do you really think father dearest would listen?" He grumbles back. "He just gave me a lecture on how bad of a son I am."

"Aren't we all?" Enver's hands move in soothing circles up and down his lower stomach, inciting a rush of goosebumps and a wave of heat. Nemo catches one of the hands and moves it even lower.

"I'm going to be the absolute nightmare to be in any relation to," he states as Enver's swift fingers start doing their job.

"You're absolute nightmare in any other accord too," his lover murmurs into his ear, bringing out the first breathless sigh out of his lips. "And I don't think I'd want you any other way."

Well, if this is what Enver's into, who is Nemo to deny him?

•••

Karlach glares at the column of Gortash's neck with a scowl so deep it should have been cut directly into her skin, not pulled up by the muscles.

"I didn't do that to myself," Enver comments for some goddamn reason, making the entire situation more awkward than it already was.

The wizard chokes on air.

"Yeah, we didn't really think you did," former sharran comments, eyes darting to where Nemo is seated, stoically ignoring any inquiring gazes straying his way. "That would be anatomically impossible."

"You never know," the lord feels the need to argue. "I am man of many talents."

The vampire spawn snorts.

"Something tells me this is the product of someone else's talents," he comments.

Young Ravengard clears his throat.

"I have questions," he admits.

Enver seizes him with a stare.

"And do you want to hear the answers?"

"Not...really, no."

"Good. It seems we are on the same page then."

"I hate this fucking family," Karlach murmurs.

"Darling," the vampire starts. "I am touched! But also this one is more dysfunctional than the family I left behind, and those were the vampire spawns."

"My father is the God of Murder," Nemo comments from the distance. "How about that for dysfunctional?"

"And aren't you a walking red flag, my dear."

"Hey, excuse me, I'm the nicest murder incarnate you'd ever meet-"

This entire group of losers, Gortash decides. Is a freak show.

It might be just worthwhile enough to stick around.

#durgetash #dark urge x gortash #gortash x durge #dark urge: nemo #empty prayers au #the first is clotilda #bhaal sees nemo's children in numbers and nemo watches the dream through his father's gaze #nemo is sulking bc he almost killed Gortash again meanwhile gortash is like: oh just another day in the live of bhaalspawn's lover.#the sheer confidence that one has what nemo will always stray his hand is. uh. enver dear. this is not sane. or safe #it indeed is consentual

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ernmark · 11 months

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Didja miss me? I got caught up on the Juno Steel episodes a few weeks ago (still working on Second Citadel, more on that later), and now that I’m vaguely getting my life back on track, I’m sticking my toe back in this fandom, just in time for the beginning of the final season!

So here we go:

Juno Steel and the Vanishing Act (Pt 1) Reaction

First off, it’s so nice to see Cas Kanagawa again. She sounds so much calmer, so much steadier. Which makes sense, given that the last time we saw her she had just accidentally killed her father and had spent years under the thumb of a hyper-controlling stepmother, and she’s finally free.

So this exchange here is really striking:

JUNO: I'm glad you get to do what you always wanted, Cass. Honestly.

CASS: You... what?

JUNO: I said I'm glad. That's weird, now

CASS: No, I mean... no sarcasm? No bad jokes? No insults?

JUNO: Reading's not all I learned how to do over the past few years.

CASS: Yeah. Yeah, I think I can tell. Okay, I'll admit it. I do owe you. I don't have any money to give you, but I think I can help you out. (Vanishing Act)

It’s two ladies who have survived some real hard shit, who used to bring out a lot of the worst in each other, after they’ve gotten help, escaped from a toxic situation, and taken charge of their lives. Holy shit, that feels nice.

That said, I kinda want her to keep a bit role here. When the plot focuses on a character, it’s usually not because good things are coming to them, so I’m just fine keeping her in the director’s chair of her documentary series.

But that brings us to the actual mystery.

We’ve got Carrie Gold (As in Kerry Gold, the canned tomato brand… cuz you throw tomatoes at a bad actor, get it?), the really terrible actress who bought her way onto a show, and owner of the Prismacrystal Chimes, who’s about to humiliate herself at her big debut.

“Taking out my Chimes would be sabotage! And if my acting career doesn't take off after, why... ehm. Never mind.”

It may be that she’s actually out of money, and she was hoping for a glamorous career as an actor might save her from it. Notably, there’s no mention of her donating actual cash, just the Chimes. And the Chimes are an heirloom, so they may be the last thing of value she’s got, and this kind of publicity would be a good boost in its value– and having it ‘stolen’ would be a great way for them to disappear out of her possession without her losing face. Possibly the pawn ticket is hers, and she’s been selling off her other valuables?

(The Chimes, by the way– the scene where they were brought out, with the music and Juno’s narration and all? That was gorgeous. And I’ll talk more about the lighting part elsewhere.)

We’ve got Warner Jayne (my mind kept going back to German film director Werner Herzog? Or Warner Bros.?), the producer who’s bankrolling the show, arranged for Carrie’s involvement, procured the Chimes and the sound/lighting design, and notably doesn’t think the show can stand on its own without a lot of glitz and glamor.

“God, this show needs it. It's unwatchable, I...Oh. Don't tell Billie I said any of that.”

We’ve got Billie Dalton (as in the Dalton Gang?), the director whose grand project is about to be butchered onstage by Carrie’s acting, but maybe rescued by the special effects, but generally resents the interference. She’s the only one with the key to the Chimes’ lock, and the only person aside from Carrie who actually handles it. She’d have the opportunity to walk off with it while everybody’s eyes are on the stage.

“Having those Chimes stolen in front of everyone, having Carrie Gold scupper the show... It would all almost be worth it for Warner Jayne to get what he deserves.”

We’ve got Clotilda Fairborough, actual actor whose big break is about to be shattered by her incompetent costar.

“I'm going to drag this show kicking and screaming into something like artistic credibility, and you owe me for that, so act like it... or you'll see what happens when I'm not feeling so cooperative.”

These three have, in my opinion, the same motive: they’ve got a lot riding on a play that’s about to be ruined, which he didn’t believe in in the first place. Warner has a lot of money invested in this. Billie and Clotilda have their reputation on the line, and they might not get another chance. So it behooves all of them to get everybody’s eyes on Lono on their show, but not actually be paying too close attention to the play itself– so putting a priceless work of art on stage and then declaring it’s gonna be stolen at a very specific time during opening night? That’s perfect publicity.

USAmericans might be familiar with a grim joke: “Apart from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?” Alternatively, nobody thinks too hard about what was going on in Don Juan Triumphant right before the Phantom of the Opera dropped a chandelier on the audience. Any shortfalls in the play itself will be barely a footnote, but everybody will be talking about the event.

So everybody’s got a motive to throw a wench (hee hee) into the works, but the presence of the pawn shop ticket at the end has me putting my money on Carrie.

(There’s the obvious option, of course, that Nureyev is actually on the crew as a stage hand and he’s just being overlooked because nobody ever notices techies, but if that was the case, I feel like the stage crew would have been at least mentioned before now. A passing line, or something, but we’ve got nothing. )

(Also the transcripts on the official website are an actual godsend)

#the penumbra podcast #penumbra meta

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ausetkmt · 3 months

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"It's crazy to think they would have sailed right past here," Darron Patterson said, pulling his car onto a scrap of grass overlooking the murky Mobile River. As president of the Clotilda Descendants Association, Patterson is well versed in talking about the voyage of the Clotilda – the last known slave ship to reach America. His great-great-grandfather was Kupollee, later renamed Pollee Allen; one of the 110 men, women and children cruelly stolen from Benin in West Africa and brought to the US onboard the notorious ship.

The story of how Patterson's relative arrived in America aboard an illegal slaver started as a shockingly flippant bet. Fifty-two years after the US banned the importation of enslaved people, in 1860, a wealthy Alabama business owner named Timothy Meaher wagered that he could orchestrate for a haul of kidnapped Africans to sail under the noses of federal officers and evade capture.

With the assistance of Captain William Foster at the helm of an 80ft, two-mast schooner, and following a gruelling six-week transatlantic passage, he succeeded. The ship sneaked into Mobile Bay on 9 July under a veil of darkness. To conceal evidence of the crime, the distinctive-looking schooner – made from white oak frames and southern yellow pine planking – was set ablaze and scuttled to the depths of the swampy Mobile River, where it lay concealed beneath the water, its existence relegated to lore.

That is until almost 160 years later, when during a freakishly low tide, a local reporter named Ben Raines discovered a hefty chunk of shipwreck in the Mobile River, initially thought to belong to the Clotilda. It turned out to be a false alarm, but the discovery reignited interest and led to an extensive search involving multiple parties, including the Alabama Historical Commission, National Geographic Society, Search Inc and the Slave Wrecks Project. Following their exhaustive effort, in May 2019 it was finally announced that the elusive Clotilda had at long last been discovered.

A mural of the Clotilda slave ship runs alongside the freeway separating the two sides of Africatown (Credit: Carmen K Sisson/Alamy)

Three years later, the city of Mobile found itself standing on the brink of a tourism boom, as interest in the story of the Clotilda, and the lives of its resilient captives, built.

Patterson had agreed to drive me around Africatown, an area where many of the ship's captives finally settled and where Patterson himself was raised. We began the tour at this scrap of land by the Mobile River, beneath a soaring interstate bridge where a group of Clotilda slave ship descendants meet annually for their Under the Bridge festival, to "talk about how our ancestors got here and to have some food and dance," Patterson said. There was no festival that day though and the atmosphere was muted; just one woman and her grandson played by the marshy water's edge below the steady hum of traffic.

Walking back to his car, Patterson, a former sportswriter now in his 60s, recalled that growing up, Africatown was a thriving, self-sufficient place, where "the only time we needed to leave the community was to pay a utility bill" as everything needed was close to hand, aside from a post office.

Located three miles north of downtown Mobile, Africatown was founded by 32 of the original Clotilda survivors following emancipation at the end of the Civil War, in 1865. Longing for the homeland they'd been brutally ripped from, the residents set up their own close-knit community to blend their African traditions with American folkways, raising cattle and farming the land. One of the first towns established and controlled by African Americans in the US, Africatown had its own churches, barbershops, stores (one of which was owned by Patterson's uncle); and the Mobile County Training School, a public school that became the backbone of the community.

However, this once-vibrant neighbourhood fell on hard times when a freeway was constructed in the heart of it in 1991, and industrial pollution meant that many of the remaining residents eventually packed up and left. "We couldn't even hang out our washing to dry because it would get covered in ash [a product of the oil storage tanks and factories on the outskirts of Africatown]," said Patterson. With the high-profile closure of the corrugated box factory, International Paper, in 2000, and an ensuing public health lawsuit brought about by residents, Africatown's community that had swelled to 12,000 people in the 1960s plummeted to around 2,000, where it stands today.

Cudjoe Kazoola Lewis, one of the Clotilda survivors and founders of Africatown, died in 1935 (Credit: Zoey Goto)

The exodus, poverty and environmental scars were visible as Patterson drove further into Africatown. The roadside was littered with abandoned factories. The quiet, residential streets were peppered with empty lots and vacant homes, some in such disrepair that their decaying walls had surrendered entirely to the creeping vines engulfing them.

But Africatown is changing, once again. With the discovery of the ship's remnants came the interest necessary to rebuild and preserve this historical place; an influx of attention and funds that is affecting everything from personal relationships to history to the fortune of the neighbourhood. Because, though the story of the Clotilda was known – and the lives of the original passengers were so well documented that photos, interviews and even film footage existed – without evidence of the vessel, the history was buried and it was not in the interest of the white population to acknowledge the truth of how they had arrived. Finding the vessel allowed their story to be affirmed and truth to be restored after decades of denial.

In the years since the Clotilda was discovered, the wreck has undergone extensive archaeological exploration to determine the likelihood of raising it safely. The ripple effect of media and public interest has meant a slew of government, community and private funding for Africatown's revitalisation, including The Africatown Redevelopment Corporation, which is using grants to restore homes in disrepair and demolishing and rebuilding derelict lots. Added to this is a $3.6 million payout from a BP oil spill settlement that has been earmarked for the long-awaited rebuilding of the Africatown Welcome Center, which was swept away in 2005 by Hurricane Katrina.

Patterson drove me to his grandmother's house and pulled over to chat with an elderly neighbour on her porch ("no photos, mind", she requested politely). Unlike some of the other descendent families, he told me, growing up he was told little of his ancestry. "I think my folks may have been embarrassed," he reflected, recalling that the smuggled captives had faced many humiliations, including being stripped naked for the voyage. "That must have just broke their will," Patterson said.

Africatown was one of the first towns established and controlled by African Americans in the US (Credit: Zoey Goto)

The 2019 announcement of the ship's discovery galvanised Patterson's curiosity, and he started to piece together his heritage, at which point his "whole life changed". He's since become hands-on in ensuring the story is told accurately, including an onscreen role in the film Descendant premiering at the 2022 Sundance Film Festival and as co-producer of the second installment of the forthcoming documentary The 110: The Last Enslaved Africans Brought to America about the Clotilda's passengers.

For Patterson, the discovery of the infamous ship brings fresh hope that Africatown is on the eve of a renaissance. Following years of denial, "the ship's very existence has finally been affirmed, so a burden has been lifted," said Mobile County Commissioner Merceria Ludgood. "That's every bit as important to the ethos of Africatown as the housing revitalisation currently happening."

Although there's a lack of restaurants and tourism facilities, that could be all set to change as well, said Ludgood, who is helping to set up the Africatown Heritage House, a permanent museum created in collaboration with the History Museum of Mobile to chart the history of Africatown. "Hopefully cottage industries will spring up, owned by people who live in the community," she said, noting that the discovery of the Clotilda has given Africatown's community a boost, resonating far beyond economics.

Next on Patterson's tour was the Africatown Heritage House, situated in the hub of the neighbourhood, overlooked by a row of modest, well-kept bungalows on a palm-lined avenue. Under construction at the time of my visit, the museum was due to open in early summer 2022 and will include a gallery of West African artefacts as well as salvaged sections of the Clotilda shipwreck, presented in preservation tanks.

“This is actually the best documented Middle Passage story we have as a nation”

It promises a unique insight, given the relatively recent timing of the Clotilda voyage in relation to the history of slavery. "This is actually the best documented Middle Passage story we have as a nation," explained Meg McCrummen Fowler, director of the History Museum of Mobile. "There's just an abundance of sources, mostly because it occurred so late. Several of the people on the ship lived well into the 20th Century, so instead of silence there's diaries, there's ship records."

Work has started on the Africatown Heritage House, a $1.3 million exhibit about the 110 enslaved West Africans and the Clotilda vessel (Credit: Zoey Goto)

Further regeneration projects on the horizon include a footbridge connecting the two areas of Africatown currently divided by the freeway. Water tours taking visitors close to the shipwreck site are scheduled to launch in spring 2022, and a few local residents ahead of the curve are offering walking tours of Africatown.

While tourists have yet to arrive in serious numbers, Africatown faces a familiar set of challenges to other US neighbourhoods experiencing rapid revitalisation, including ensuring the whole community supports change and that residents don't fall through the cracks. But Patterson said that the Africatown community is united in its mission.

"We're all on board with this," he said.

The final stop on our tour was the cemetery where many of the Clotilda's enslaved have been laid to rest. As we walked, Patterson told me that with the light currently shinning on this troubling chapter of history, he has hopes that there will be enough sustained interest to generate the funds needed to raise the schooner from the water.

Though the true impact of this fabled ship's discovery is yet to be seen, for Patterson, it presents an opportunity to lift up the Africatown community and honour the struggles of its founders. "This is about more than bricks and mortar, it's ultimately about the growth of our souls," he said, looking out over their crumbling gravestones, all facing east towards their motherland. "Finding the ship has finally validated our truth."

Unlike some of the other descendent families, Darron Patterson was told little of his ancestry (Credit: Zoey Goto)

#Africatown #clotilda #Cudjo #The Last Known Ship of the US Slave Trade #alabama #mobile #Black History Matters

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daenystheedreamer · 1 year

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do you have any book recs?

im gonna sound like a normie or a heathen but my tastes in books is extremely lame 😭 my favourite books are all huge classics. i fucking love pride and prejudice im so boring 😭 i read the fucking godfather and thought it was fine like THAT is how boring my tastes are

i LOVE catch 22 if you havent read it i HIGHLY recommend it. its really funny and i♡yossarion. about american pilots during ww2 but its a military/war/america/etc satire. really funny!!!

HER BODY AND OTHER PARTIES BY CARMEN MARIA MACHADO... omg my most favourite recently published read. BEAUTIFUL collection of short stories. feminist queer etcetc, i love the quiet body horror so to speak? it felt like it read my mind...

an invitation from a crab by panpanya amazing manga/short story collection. after reading it i had to lay back and just stare into the nothingness. again it felt like it read my mind

kurosagi corpse delivery service episodic body horror/horror comedy detective mystery manga. its about a group of college students of a buddhist university who all have various odd ESP powers who try to help corpses lay in rest/peace. great ensemble cast and the dark horse official english translation is AMAZING especially if you are a huge nerd who likes reading footnotes

gay manga: my lesbian experience with loneliness and our dreams at dusk. the latter is a beautiful exploration of queer people, a very kind and sweet work (though check for trigger warnings). the former is a really raw memoir by a lesbian author. its beautiful and its relatable and its horrible and vulnerable. love it<3

junji ito in general great horror mangaka.

ive got more manga reccs but i think i did too many already and idk if they count as books im sorry for answering your ask bad 😭 anyway some more of my lame taste in books below the cut

favourite books no order off the top of my head and my goodreads: catch-22 (love you bisexual slut legend yossarion), contact by carl sagan, i robot by isaac asimov, alias grace + the handmaid's tale by margaret atwood. i love a clockwork orange (LOVE nadsat). i like maurice (em forster), a thousand splendid suns (khaled hosseini). also fingersmith and like water for chocolate. i liked carmilla but its honestly kinda mid 😭

love the hunger games uhhhh. love asoiaf obvi. i tried the first of the witcher novels (the short story collection) but they were too sexist for me and geralt was an annoying centrist. i was like but the elves are literally being oppressed God forbid they fight back. God Forbid renfri fight back against men! i liked jaskier though :) jesus christ thats a tangent

i actually like a lot of non fiction. jeanette mccurdy's recent memoir is a great read, as if ben mcintyre's operation mincemeat. i read ben raines' clotilda, about the last slave ship to smuggle captive africans to the USA. all three are interesting reads

finally karl marx's communist manifesto :) not a joke. very quick pamphlet. one day i will read lenin's imperialism i stg. my goodreads to read list is huge...

#lot of crying emojis in this one.#yeah sorry for not being esoteric its partly cos i dont read so much anymore :( my specific brand of mental illnesses make it difficult #i cant stop the fucking thoughts bruv 😭#ask #anonymous #yinnie

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ceph-the-ghost-writer · 2 years

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What was the inspiration behind your oc? What was the first thing you decided about them?

Ollie: Like Athena, she sprung from the depths of my imagination fully formed and ready to do battle. It happened around the time I wrote about Renato showing up at Dorian's and mentioning other aquilae. I figured at least a few of Renato's comrades had to hate him, and that if one were his ex/rival it would be good for some laughs. A lot of Ollie's backstory is based on stories about cults and America's current political climate, extreme Protestant sects and transphobic panic in particular. She's a complicated character stewing with all sorts of emotions and I'm glad to have her around.

Micaela: She existed in a nebulous form when I started Phagophobia, but didn't coalesce until I decided Dorian would start out as human. She actually contained a few bare bones left over from a much older, villainous character, but by now the only resemblance is in the name. Coming from the same generation of bloodborn as Desmond and Theodore, she's part of the opposition to Mergus and his aquilae, highlighting different approaches to power, adversity, community, etc.

Elfy: Yet another character born from Phagophobia. I basically asked myself what kind of friends Isaac might have, and an extroverted, rebellious ghost hunter showed up first.

Ben: This one came out of a collaboration I started with two other writers years ago. He was a direct contrast to the Twilight vampires, starting out as somewhat crude, self-centered, and honestly kind of a jerk (though he would grow over time). Ben's softened somewhat in recent years, though he still has some rough edges and can definitely be terrifying when he wants to be. His love of baseball has remained consistent.

Tilda: Another character who started out much darker and gleeful about violence, meant to be the original-version-of-Ben's werewolf girlfriend. Eventually, though, I decided her lupine curse could be used to explore other avenues maybe, and she changed just like he did. Her full name, Clotilda (which she despises), comes from the last known slave ship to bring captive people from Africa to the U.S. It was burned and scuttled to hide the deed since Congress had banned importing slaves (though not owning human beings of course). Her family is loosely based on those who commissioned the ship. They're an example of insular Old Money and how oppression evolves in different eras, with a horrific supernatural element thrown in for good measure.

Yi: She was just a name until I started writing Phagophobia. Her tattoos, short hair, and muscles were the first details to pop up, the latter maybe inspired by Jude Perry from The Magnus Archives. Yi's also just a type of character I like: looks like a one-dimensional bruiser, but is actually steady and thoughtful. She's meant to be the most sympathetic of the enforcers and go through her own arc about her views on the Coven.

Mergus: He's got pieces of a few characters mixed in, including the name. But being a ruthless bastard with a lot of charisma is the unifying theme. Mergus is based on the type of person who's dangerous because he seems so reasonable and caring. And he is...to a point. He helped a lot of vulnerable humans during the break, including kids like Renato and Ollie. It gave him genuine pleasure to be of service. And in the back of his mind he had a sense that service would generate a lot of loyalty. That, say, a couple of trans kids with no support system would latch on to him and absorb his ideals because they trusted him. He doesn't make the rules, he just plays by them, and with skill, you understand.

#a question a day #character info #character profiles #dysthanasia

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lightdancer1 · 1 year

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The Franks laid the foundation for Western European culture:

This is so to a point that one of the most common names in older references to Western Europeans was Frank/Ferenji. The Franks initially were another of the polytheistic tribes of the old Germanic world who did not, in fact, welcome the new religion in the form of Arianism, adopted by the Goths, or Nicene Christianity. In the beginning they held that their ruling dynasty, the Merovingians, were descended from a sea-god called the Quinotaur (and this belief would recur in a grimly ironic fashion with another context to be mentioned later).

This was because of what might be seen as either a fluke or as the Catholic Church prefers to see it, divine providence. The wife of the Merovingian King Clovis convinced her husband to adopt Catholicism. This was the first time that the ruling elite of the late antiquity/low medieval world matched the 'masses' in terms of the religion they professed to adhere to. The consequences of this are profound and as such without Clotilda of the Franks, Western Europe as we know it would not exist.

#lightdancer comments on history #women's history month #europe and women's history #clotilda

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bekah-reading · 1 year

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3/120

4/5

My first non-fiction of the year!

This is the story of the Clotilda, the last ship that sailed the Atlantic carrying slaves to the US. 50 years after the Atlantic Slave Trade was outlawed this ship set sail and was then scuttled and burned upon arrival to hide evidence to the crime. The ship remained hidden for the next 160 years until 2019 journalist, Ben Raines made news when Slye found the wreck in the swamps of Alabama.

The novel was interesting, even if like all nonfiction the writing is a bit dry and to the point. I found the first half very nice and enjoyable. But the second was the very meat of the book.

#booklr #booktok #reading #2023 reading #2023 reading challenge #reading challenge #nonfiction #the last slave ship #Ben Raines #clotilda

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japharii · 2 years

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🚦📸 #PhartograPhii Exclusive - #Raw and unedited 🚦📸 Never before seen BTS 1 year ago today I shot 📸🎥 'Clotilda: Last American Slave Ship for National Geographic @natgeo at the historic Fort Monroe. It aired this year in February for #BlackHistoryMonth This was my first paid gig after deciding to take photography seriously after my business partner and cameraman @legacyofsleeper was murdered just a few months prior. I had been a photographer for some years just as a hobby. Now my resume far surpasses a lot of photographers who have been in the game for YEARS #GodsPlan This meant a lot to me because I was shooting history, as well as being part of history being made with my organization @BLM757. We always honor our ancestors of 1619 at Fort Monroe, and we will continue to do so. If you haven't had the chance to yet, please check this out on @natgeotv @hulu. Please follow my photography page @phartographii . Contact me for your photography and videography needs. 🙏🏾🖤 . . . . . #Clotilda #BLM757 #FYP #Explore #ExplorePage #757photographer #Photographer #Videographer #PhartograPhii #Art #BlackHistory #BlackLivesMatter757 #JaPharii #JaPhariiJones #Picoftheday #instagood (at Fort Monroe) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ch948B_u1MK/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#phartographii #raw #blackhistorymonth #godsplan #clotilda #blm757 #fyp #explore #explorepage #757photographer #photographer #videographer #art #blackhistory #blacklivesmatter757 #japharii #japhariijones #picoftheday #instagood

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raybizzle · 2 years

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maegalkarven · 7 months

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Everyone realizing Nemo has no plans of disbanding his murder cult what is more the assasins guild now: 😥

Nemo: "First of all, let's blow father's huge ass skull off the wall. Idc about that thing.

Second of all, Murder Tribunal needs to be reworked. I am no longer accepting every murder-happy idiot into the fold. Things will be ORGANIZED from now on. Whatever you do on your free time is your business, but killing done in the name of the guild will be done strictly by contract. No more killings for free. What? Yes, Father's ecstacy through murder will probably be annulled for many of you. Again, I don't care if you worship by dear old dad or not, but remember I am your leader and our guild comes first. Any religious preferences stay behind the door. What? Yes, of course you can worship Loviatar now, Caleb, I'm surprised you haven't already. Anyway, I want to officially invite all of you present to the wedding of our dear Clotilda and...Sorry, what was his name again?

#the dark urge #durge spoilers #dark urge #dark urge: nemo #nemo:listen if someone is willing to pay for murder the victim will die regardless if we take the job or not #someone else will do the job #nothing changes BUT we won't get paid #so let us do our job will you?#obv some people are off list. if a contract comes their way we'll deal with the contractor instead #no really it's actually in your jnterests #this is how duke ravengard gets protected by the assasins guild #ninefingers starts to pay nemo's guild a generous fee after like 5 assassins attempts. she has a lot of enemies and is tired #for some reason any rogue murderer trying to get to the new upstart who thinks he owns razimath tower ends up dead #a true mystery #Karlach as five or so fight-hungry assassins join her and Wyll in their fight in Avernus: what the actual hell Nemo

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istanbulorconstantinople · 2 years

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Revolution and completed by Napoleon.

The seventh great change was in the reign of Louis XVI. just before the Revolution, when for purely fiscal purposes the octroi barrier was carried forward to inclose vast districts not before within the walls. This was adopted by the Revolution and completed by Napoleon. The eighth and final circuit was that of L. Philippe in 1840, the fortifications which held the German army at bay for four months — which it is now proposed to destroy for a military circuit even more vast. The story of the successive circuits of Paris is the history of France in its critical epochs.

After the political and military history of the city comes the history of its religious foundations, the Churches, Abbeys, and confraternities. No one can suppose, till he has gone into it, the enormous number of these, their strange antiquity, their rich and stirring history. The fragments of these abbeys and churches that we see to-day are the scanty remnants of vast edifices and a dense population scattered and gone — just as a column or an arch at Rome survives to tell us of the mighty city of the Caesars with its millions.

Haussmann and the Municipal Council

The Revolution, the Nineteenth Century, the Napoleons, Haussmann, and the Municipal Council have swept away the old churches and convents of Paris by hundreds and thousands. The immense clearances in the Island Citt, those between and around the Louvre and the Tuileries, the new Boulevards and broad Avenues, have destroyed scores and scores. The new Hdtel Dien and the 1 places ’ in front of and round Notre Dame, the Barrack of the Guard and the Tribunal de Commerce and Prefecture of Police have between them demolished more than twenty entire streets and at least twenty churches, chapels, oratories, and religious edifices.

The names of churches and foundations destroyed survive in the countless St. Jacques and St. Pierres, the Capucins, Jacobins, Mathurins, and so forth, that we find in the streets and passages private tour istanbul. All those who are seriously inter ested in the ecclesiastical antiquities of old Paris should study the very excellent guide just published—The Churches of Paris, from Clovis to Charles X., by S. Sophia Beale, with illustrations by the author (London, 1893). It collects, in a useful and interesting manner, a mass of information as to the old churches of Paris.

We forget, in their new casing, the antiquity of those which remain. The Madeleine which we stare at as a bran-new Greek Temple is as old as the thirteenth century in foundation. It is contemporary with St. Louis, and was in origin the chapel of the country palace of the Archbishop of Paris — exactly answering to Lambeth Palace. So too the Pantheon — which Englishmen are too wont to look on as an imitation of St. Paul’s, and a mere piece of eighteenth century classicism — is one of the oldest and most interesting monuments in Christendom. The church of Saint Genevieve, the patron saint of Paris, who is said to have roused the citizens to resist Attila the Hun, was founded to contain her tomb in 508 by Clovis and Clotilda the first Christian King and Queen of the Franks.

Clovis and Clotilda and many of their race were there buried, beside the Jeanne d’Arc of the fifth century. A vast abbey rose there; its name was frequently changed. The tombs and the relics were transferred at times to St. Etienne du Mont, with which it is closely associated. The name, the exact spot, the building, have been constantly altered. The church that we see, which is little more than a hundred years old, has been three times a church, and three times converted into a secular monument which it is to-day. It is the older Westminster Abbey of Paris, for it goes back to times before Arthur, and to a century before the coming of the monks amongst the Saxons. The church which fourteen centuries ago was dedicated to the first champions of Northern Christianity, has been the burying- 2 B place of Mirabeau, Voltaire, Rousseau, and Marat, and has now again been made a secular monument in order to hold the ashes of Victor Hugo.

#Revolution and completed by Napoleon.

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clothingstore · 2 years

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