During an intersect event Shen Qingqiu is poisoned. How do we know he was poisoned? Because the dumbass that did it immediately jumped from the public to gloat about it.
The CQM delegation promptly then grabbed their unluckiest peak lord and dipped back home to try and not have him die. (They also grabbed the dude that poisoned him, to get info on the poison and all that)
It's supossed to steal half of a person's lifespan; and as Shen Qingqiu has lived for a while the dude thinks it will just kill the Lord. It doesn't do that thought... It splits the Lord into two young adults, each half of Shen Qingqiu's age. They are both fucking confused and looking at the other wide eyed.
SQQ#1 blinks and ask everyone to leave. SQQ#2 just agrees when asked by the other peak lords. It's an exercise in patience to get Yue Big-Brother-Extraordinaire Qingyuan to leave his favorite shidi who suddenly multiplied. He is rabid. Overdosing on shidi.
Shen Yuan is both terrified and ecstatic to be free from SQQ's fate, but also guilty? of leaving the other to deal with it. He's 90% sure the other SQQ is the original goods.
Shen Jiu is just looking at the body-snatcher, trying to decide whether to kill the other or kidnap him to keep such a wonderful teacher for his peak. Finally, someone to deal with the brats.
SY: Well, sorry for stealing your body, my bad. I will now leave you to-
And SY gets grabbed by the scruff and forced to spill all his secrets. The system doesn't register SJ as a separate entity so they are free to converse and make plans. By the time the other peaklords (mainly YQY, QQQ, and WQW) come back for gossip the Shens are gossiping about them and sharing some little cakes with their tea. BFFs.
Oh, they are 100% roasting eachother. Don't mind them too much, they are trying to decide who gets to be the older one and thus the one in charge.
Anyway the thought about Christianity was a tangent, I was actually thinking about ranking Fall Out Boy songs by how far back in time you could go before the lyrics were completely unintelligible due to untranslatable cultural differences.
"Uma Thurman" is partially unintelligible even to me (I have next to no idea who Uma Thurman is) but I feel like it would be a good example to help explain what cultural Christianity is, because the amount of song lyrics that would make zero sense if you didn't know what Christianity was is always way higher than you think it is
This is also a good exercise in estimating just how much we, as modern readers, are missing in ancient texts
Imagine explaining this to an ancient Sumerian. They don't have July, let alone the Fourth of it, and the significance of that date and the connection to fireworks requires you to explain everything from gunpowder to the concept of a nation.
I like "This is a black, black ski mask song" from Novocaine because even a historian that knew what skiing was might not necessarily know what the significance of a ski mask is here.
"I Don't Care" is almost timeless though. I'm pretty sure an ancient Roman would "get" most of it.
Same with "Alone Together." "My heart is like a stallion, they love it more when it's broke in?" Perfectly understandable for someone a couple thousand years ago.
"The Mighty Fall" is an interesting case because you could envision trying to explain "Your crooked love is just a pyramid scheme" to an ancient Egyptian
Trying to do this with Owl City makes you appreciate just how MUCH clever wordplay is in Owl City lyrics, because you're like "SO MUCH would definitely get completely lost in any attempt to translate, but I can't even break it all down"
owl city lyrics have a habit of punning on idioms, which probably is the worst for historical longevity. In "Plant Life" there's the lyric "new leaf turns over, unwilling to fall" which is referring to the speaker's reluctance to let go of the past and move on. this is both playing with the idiom "turn over a new leaf" meaning to start something new, and creating the image of a literal leaf reluctant to fall from the tree (as leaves do in fall, as part of the natural progression of seasons).
Also from the song Plant Life
ïżŒso, there's "spirit" and "ghost," but neither actually mean in context the same thing that they mean when they do mean they same thing, and "pull off your sheet," which is a reference to sheets being used as a ghost costume. then there is the concept of a "teddy [bear]" and "grin and bear it" which is punning on "teddy" referencing a bear. this is kind of brilliant but incomprehensible
Would the wordplay in "Get me out of this cavern or I'll cave in" in "Cave In" necessarily be intelligible when translated for a future historian or person from the distant past
By the way, Cave In is at the top of my minecraft themed playlist because it mentions the largest number of things that are in Minecraft that I have found in a song
You'll have the most fun if you assume that what technology is and does can be explained to your listener, and focus purely on cultural and linguistic barriers
In the song "Paparazzi" by Lady Gaga, knowing what a garage is and is for does not help you understand what it means to be "garage glamorous" at all.
Sometimes the barrier isn't not knowing what something is, it's knowing what something is like.
Speaking of Lady Gaga, Poker Face is great for this
Listen, *I* barely know how poker is played. But I still know that the first line references a variant (?) of poker called Texas hold 'em. There are so many double meanings here. "After he's been hooked" probably references gambling, and "I'll play the one that's on his heart" references the fact that "hearts" are one of the four suits in traditional playing cards.
Imagine not knowing any of this. Now imagine knowing all of thisâdoes that actually let you understand what a "poker face" is?
I go back in time, I try to show an ancient Sumerian some bangers from the future, I end up stuck explaining the complex legal and cultural status of gambling in the United States, fuck time travel honestly
Songs that make roughly the same amount of sense to nearly everyone regardless of their position in history
almost everything by Cosmo Sheldrake
the devil went down to georgia (look, this story conceptually has nothing to do with the Christian Devil specifically and everything to do with a type of folklore character who is just Like That)
Hurt by Johnny Cash (i know it's a cover, I don't care)
American Pie by Don McLean (come on, does ANYONE actually understand this song?)
See this is fascinating because we're already leaving the time in history where people understand things like "meaner than a junkyard dog" but the Archetype still works
"You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC has some specific cultural references, but people throughout history would Get It okay
what's being highlighted here I think is "technical meaning is understandable, but emotional/thematic meaning is completely obscure" untranslatable things vs. "technical meaning is obscure but the song still Hits" untranslatable
I think "fast car" by tracy chapman could make sense to someone who doesn't actually know what a car is. Like, it's clear from context regardless that the car is a symbol for the opportunity to escape the circumstances you were born into and feel trapped in
Got reminded again of my old coworker who was a massive misogynist but also trans inclusive. Told me he believed trans women are indeed women because "only women would be stupid enough to want to be women"
He also aggressively corrected himself whenever he accidentally misgendered a trans guy we knew because "there's already more women than men in the world, the more numbers we steal from them, the better." Did that even when the trans guy wasn't around.
I need to point out that he was completely serious btw. This man had no sense of humor if he tried.
He was a cook at the restaurant/bar I was a bartender at, and almost punched a costumer once because he overheard him talking about how women belong in the kitchen. Told me he thought women should stay out of kitchens, that cooking is a man's job and when I asked him what he thinks women should be doing, he went quiet for a moment, then proceeded to explain to me the following
"I trust a bitch to run a kitchen as much as she can run a country, they should do shit like plumbing. Or electricity. Something you can just learn to do and don't need to lead, you know?"
Apparently women are good at "fixing shit". He claimed that he doesn't trust male plumbers or electricians except if they're gay because "something most be wrong with you if you want to go fix other people's houses, that's that maternal instinct"
Love that you guys seem to like the stories about my Guy, here's another. (also for context i need to say that english is not the language he spoke, and when i say 'fag', i'm using it for our version of the slur. Our Guy insisted that that's just how you call gay people in our language (it isn't))
We had an openly gay coworker who looked like it (crop tops, dyed hair, make-up) and he was often harassed by the waiters from the football bar next door. The gay dude had the same name as the Guy, who insisted that we would specify the he isn't gay, so they just became "Name" and "Not Gay Name". He was fine with that.
Oh he also once went on a rant about how he respects our gay coworker more than "those other fags" because "at least he has the balls to look like a fag, yknow? None of that sneaky shit where you can't tell if they're trying to fuck you or your girlfriend." When I then told him I was bi, he looked me over and called me some slurs before telling me that I don't need to rub it in that I can get both. Then he asked me if I think he's hot and when I told him no, he informed me I should stick with women because I clearly have shit taste.
He once accidentally bullied one of our younger waitresses out of an early eating disorder she was developing before working there (she told me about it after)
Boss gave us one meal from the menu a day as a job bonus, and we had this very shy seventeen year old working with us who was already nervous around men, but Our Guy was a 6'3 dude who only stopped yelling and cursing when he was not speaking at all. If he was the one cooking that day, he'd peek out of the kitchen an hour before he'd start closing it up, and would shout at you if you haven't ordered your meal yet because he hated cooking once he already cleaned. The waitress was scared shitless of him, and so whenever he would yell at her to "fucking order already", she'd panic and just pick something.
She didn't eat much but the first time she tried to throw out almost the whole plate, he got so personally insulted that he berated her for not picking something she'd like, and demanded to know what he did wrong. He got really upset about apparently not being able to cook something that this kid would like and I'm pretty sure he started putting in extra effort to make sure she would eat it this time? It lead to him quite literally standing over her like a hawk when she ate to "see her reaction" and demand an immediate review to see what he can improve.
She later told me that it she was so scared and awkward around him back then that it kind of overrode her fear of food, and that she still sometimes pretends she's back there, when she feels a bad episode coming on, so. He did do something good for the world i guess
Our Guy met a nonbinary person once when my friend came to visit me at work. He was just on a smoke break so I had to introduce them and when I said "They're visiting" he got confused and asked us how many people are there (and then threatened murder if they dare order something while he's on a break). I had to explain this man what a nonbinary person is, he thought about it for a second, called the whole thing "fucking stupid, there ain't that shit in nature" and then proceeded to very mockingly refer to them as (our language equivalent of) "your majesty" and use the pronouns you use for people you're supposed to respect (which is genderless and very formal)
My friend thought he was really funny before I explained to them that I'm pretty sure he thought he was being mean (but hey he it wasn't misgendering so yay)
Then (after his break) they ordered a vegan sandwich and we heard him cussing them out about how "they should pick a fucking struggle". Later I asked him about it and got told that "how much shit can you deny yourself? Cheese, gender, the fuck's next?"
Sorry for the late response on thisâ my memory is always pretty spotty, so I have trouble recalling good fics to recommend!
Iâll give you a top ten request, how about that? These are all AO3 fics!
End of Infinity by FriendlyNeighborhoodFangirls â I feel like if youâre a big shipper of ironstrange, youâve gotta check out this absolute masterpiece of a fic!! Itâs a suuuper slowburn, clocking in at 291+ chapters and still ongoing. Normally, I donât read fics that arenât finished, but trust me this one had me sobbing for days. Check out their other works, as well!!
The Blood in Your Veins by Aelaer â Wowowow, this fic absolutely shook me to my core. If youâre okay with some heavy angst, I would 10000% recommend this. Aelaerâs writing is so engaging and the care and understanding they have of Stephen and Tonyâs perspectives and motivations are *chefâs kiss* Also, any fic that can actually make me care about the original characters within it? Automatically raises my respect for them.
The Sorcerer of Ephemeral Colors by Imagined â I LOVE FANTASY AUs FOR THIS SHIP!!!! Mage Stephen and Prince Tony go together so fucking well, I could go absolutely insane UGGHH!! This is another big boy fic, but the progression and story-telling, as well as the world-building are done so well!! If you like Fantasy AUs, youâll love this fic!
(Sober) Companion by funkylittleidiot â Itâs been a minute since I read this one, but I was thinking about picking it up again! Another AU fic, this time No Powers with the twist of Stephen helping people recover from their addictions! I wasnât so sure about the premise at first, but honestly I loved how the author handled the subject matter from what I can remember. Heavy on the Tony angst. I really just love fics where Stephen takes care of Tony =w=;; I think this one is sfw? I really need to reread it đ
The One to Bet On by airas_story â UGHHHH I LOVE THEIR WORK SO MUCH!!!! This is another fic thatâs still ongoing! I am absolutely a SUCKER for time traveler Tony. It is so interesting to see what he does in the past to fix the future, and so far Iâm really enjoying where theyâre taking the story! Check out their other fics, as well, if you enjoy this one!!
Embers by surveycorpsjean â Idk man this is just a soft fic with these two đ„șđ Steve and the other Avengers do make an appearance; thereâs no character bashing or anything like that, but they donât take up too much time in the fic! Stephen is just so smitten in this, and I absolutely adore it. Also another author you should check out their other works!
A witchâs cat by harpywrites â TONY GETS STEPHEN A CAT, AND ITS THE CUTEST THING EVER UGGHHH!!! Such a soft, feel-good fic, I absolutely love how Harpy writes Tony here. Seriously, if you just want a quick fic to make you smile, this is the one for you. If you want some heavy Stephen angst, though, check out the rest of Harpyâs works!! She loves to torture the poor sorcerer đ
dream a little dream of me by DarkKitty1208 â You asked for sfw fics, so Iâm not sure how deep angst can get before you call it quits? But if youâre cool with it, I highly recommend this one. Heavy Stephen angst with Tony helping him through his struggles; the imagery in this fic is stunning!!! Kitty has a very good understanding of Stephen and his struggles, so itâs super engaging to see this man trying and failing to cope with his demons! If you want more Stephen angst, check out Kittyâs LIBRARY of fics. Stephen never catches a break istg.
The Affection Thief by airas_story â Iâm cheating by including them again on this list, but mostly itâs because Iâve run out of sfw fics đ THIS ONE IS SO DAMN CUTE!!!! Stephen gets turned into a cat and shenanigans ensue!! Itâs such a simple concept, but the way my heart melted at how they wrote Stephen in this *sobs*
Annnd Iâll cheat for the final one, too.
Prophets in the Graveyard by FriendlyNeighborhoodFangirls â Another Fantasy AU fic because god I canât get enough of them!!! This time with a murder mystery twist ohohoho! Another long boy with a slowburn because I love to torture myself in the best of ways. Again, this author just handles world-building, pacing, and characterization so so so fucking beautifully in their works. If you havenât read from them, I beg of you to check out their fics!!
(Honorable Mention: you should absolutely also check out atypicalsnowmanâs collection of works. I particularly love their âwhatever souls are made ofâ fic, but it does have eventual smut!! Just seeing how Stephen and Tony would navigate a situation where they use a soul bond to defeat Thanos is ugghh so good.)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
@febuwhump
*shuffles to the middle of the stage and taps on the mic a couple of times* uh, *taps again* does this thing work? Right, okay. Um, so *claps hands together* I have come here today for a very very, very very special announcement. It is with great honour I announce that, err⊠probably a thousand years ago today, our dear, dear, lovely @lilbitofmac has been given birth. And so today we shall celebrate their birthday, as they are getting older than they already are. Anyway. *clears throat* *takes out a bunch of cards* No⊠done that bit. *flips it over* done that bit⊠*flips* that bit as well⊠*flip flip flip* *gives up and throws it into the air* Alright justâ gift! Right. Here â *gestures vaguely around fic* for you, my love.
Happy birthday. xoxoÂ
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Doctor Strange (Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Characters: Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, Tiberius Stone
Additional Tags: Kidnapping, Kidnapped Tony Stark, Hurt Tony Stark, Protective Stephen Strange, Torture, Waterboarding, Ambiguous/Open Ending
Series: Part 6 of Febuwhump 2023
Summary:
Daughter of fantasy villains decides to rebel against her parents by actually going through with her arranged marriage to a local golden retriever of a prince instead of running off with some local villain-to-be or conquering said golden retrieverâs kingdom and ruling it solo like her parents expect her to. Plus, sue her, sheâs into the clean-cut earnest look.
At the same time, local prince charming discovers that heâs actually very into the gothic fiance his parents have landed him with in order to try and establish peace with the local evil lair down the lane, he would never have guessed a spiderweb pattern could look so fetching on a ball gownâŠ?
Meanwhile, two pairs of parents in a tizzy because they both expected their offspring to whole-heartedly reject this union and give them an excuse to conquer their goody-two-shoes/evil neighbours, theyâre not supposed to actually like each other-!
respective friend groups undergoing culture clash like all of prince charmingâs knights are like what vile spell has been used to ensorcel our prince. we must be on our guard for surely this is but a ruse for an assassination attempt
meanwhile the villain brideâs friends are all like clearly he loves you not, why do you persist in a manner that will ensure your own heart break, i mean if he was taking this seriously there would be at least three assassination attempts by now. itâs like he doesnât even notice that you have massive amounts of dark power to covet for his own
smashcut to
fully armored knight, clanging through the hallways in attempts at stealth, blades drawn: iâm just saying, i took an oath of protection. this feels wrong.
prince charming: itâs not wrong, itâs celebrating cross cultural traditions for my beloved bride
@chucktaylorupset Meanwhile the bride has a bouquet of roses, cornflowers, and wheat sheaves on her desk in her room, and sheâs not coming out until sheâs written a beautiful and moving poem about how they favourably compare to her groom. Itâs been three days. Sheâs gone through an entire ravenâs worth of quills (unethically sourced). The âtoads who used to be my friendsâ list has gone up by one. But sheâs bent dark forces and eldritch spirits to her will and, by the powers obscene, this will not be the thing that breaks her.
Sorceress friend: Please, just get him an amulet that will double his power at the cost of his soul, no oneâs worth this.
Rebellious villainess: (nearly in tears) No, he brought his best knights to the castle and tried to kill me last week, at midnight, I canât ignore something like that! He even kicked Cathulhu!
Sorceress friend: He nudged it with his foot. And then he apologized to it. In tears.
Rebellious villainess: (actually in tears now, for reasons of feels instead of poetic torment) Heâs trying so hard!!!
Prince: Of course, darling - may I inquire as to what for?
Villainess: Blood sacrifice to the dark gods, you know how it is.
Prince: âŠ
Prince: âŠdarling, you know I support your lifestyle choices, but I must say this before it potentially happens.
Prince: Iâm not all right with human sacrifice. Thatâs one of my boundaries. I donât know if you do that or not, but it seemed a topical time to bring it up.
Villainess: (carefree laugh) Oh beloathed, donât worry yourself about such things, I would never!
Villainess: (leading him off to the goat market) Only incompetents use actual humans. Skilled practitioners of the dark arts know that a goat is not only a sufficient sacrifice, but the superior one.
@sapphire-monkey One of the nobles against the marriage in the princeâs kingdom invites the villainess to a local villageâs blessing ritual, secure in the knowledge that itâs not only custom to wear the absolute palest white or undyed linen/woolen clothing one owns, itâs a requirement of the ritual and sacrilegious to do otherwise. Letâs see you deal with that miss all-black-wardrobe.
She arrives in diaphanous white silk edged with lace that gives the impression of beautifully tattered hems, all of it drifting gently around her on the spring breeze to give the feeling of a wraith from a haunted castle or something of the such. While not her personal cup of tea, she finds the ritual very moving, and absolutely understands why its one of her beloathedâs favorites.
One of the nobles from her kingdom, meanwhile, decides, fuck it, and just turns the prince into a frog. It takes her two minutes to find and fix him.
Villain noble: How.
Villainess: True loveâs kiss, bitch.
Villain noble: (seethes)
The prince, meanwhile, pissed off the entire villainous court for the recent engagement ball that was held by knowing and responding accordingly to all the proper threats and insults. He studied before doing this, and heâs not going to shame darling in front of her peers! Bastard even managed to subdue his chivalry long enough to flirt with one of her friends right in front of her, how dare he be so considerate and sensitive to her needs like that-!?
First time the Prince finds out Villainess can transform into a gigantic fire-breathing dragon is a very O_OU moment for him.
Villainess: Are you surprised I can? Itâs a common ability.
Prince: I didnât want to assume.
Villainess: âŠ
Prince: (sweats)
Villainess: âŠyouâre picturing me turning into a dragon and riding on my back into battle, arenât you?
Prince: N-no, no, of course not-!
Villainess: (drapes in his lap) Itâs okay, weâd look fantastic. (sly expression) And probably scary enough to get the enemy forces to surrender without any needless bloodshed.
Prince: (sweating) Darling, are you trying to tempt me into putting you into a position where you could be injured in battle?
Villainess: A little. :3 (more seriously) But it is also on the table if we ever need to defend our throne. Itâs the sort of thing that formâs for, really.
Prince: If youâre comfortable with it, then very well, it shall be added to the list of acceptable strategies.
(comfortable cuddling for a moment)
Prince: I imagine you make a very majestic dragon.
Villainess: (preening) I really do.
Prince: Perhaps we should have a tapestry done of it, then? It could hang opposite the one of my familyâs crest in the throne room when we someday ascend the thrones ourselves.
Villainess: 8O! Beloathed, I would adore a tapestry of that! (cuddles further against him) Oh, and across from your family crest! That would be such a slap in the face to my parents, having a tapestry of me there instead of their own crest.
Prince: (hadnât thought of it that way, but is happy that sheâs happy)
Villainess comes in one night thoroughly out of sorts because her stupid cousinâs decided to make a move on her rights to the souls of their ancestors, and the jerkâs competent enough to actually have a potential chance at getting them, too, like heâd even wear the necklace of jewels theyâre trapped in-!!!
The Prince listens patiently to her frustration until sheâs finished, then considers for a few minutes.
âDarling, about that banquet your familyâs having next fortnight - will your cousin be in attendance?â
âYes, heâll be using it to lay the groundwork of his plans. Why?â
âWould it be all right if I popped in for a bit? And was rather more⊠myself than I usually am around your parents?â
ââŠI suppose itâd be all right.â
âWonderful!â (kisses her hand) âPerhaps wear those full-arm gloves your friend got you for the event - the ones that allow you to handle blessed objects without them interfering with your dark powers?â
âWell now Iâm just curious. I shall do as you request, beloathed.â
The night of he shows up to the banquet positively radiating charm, good will, and benevolence, decked out in full armor thatâs glowing slightly. Oh this? Itâs the ancestral trappings of one of his relatives who was a champion of the stellar deities, those who guide ones who have become lost in darkness? Heâs not a holy champion himself, but he is a fully-realized warrior of light and family, so heâs permitted to wear it at times. Oh yes, he completed his warrior of light trials when he was eighteen, when on a quest and everything! Thatâs where he earned his sword - itâs actually a shard of sunlight, you know, not metal. Thatâs why heâs called Prince of the Sun and Stars sometimes - bit of a grandiose title, really, but the artists and poets enjoy playing with the imagery, and who is he to deny them, especially when Darling is so fond of the stars herself! Thereâs a lass in one of the kingdomâs villages doing a portrait of the two of them together playing with that motif, actually, and it looks like itâs going to to be absolutely lovely when itâs done-
And he continues to be cheerful, charming, and just the nicest, most polite guy for the time heâs there while also reminding everyone in no uncertain terms that, for as long as the forces of evil have been trying to quash the forces of good, his side has been working at the opposite. And his side tends to win more often. And maybe it would be wise not to pick a fight with Darling because heâd hate to have to do battle with a potential in-law in the path of supporting her familyâs traditions regarding people who cross themâŠ
Jerk cousin is thoroughly cowed out of making an attempt at the family-filled jewels, and Villainessâs friends are standing with her off to the side going, âOkay, beginning to see what you see in him now.â Villainess herself is walking around with on safely-gloved hand on his arm as he intimidates the hell out of everyone she knows in order to help her protect whatâs hers, swooning a little bit inside the whole time.
(Hers might be more diversely applicable, but Villainess isnât the only one bringing something to the table in terms of power. Prince is generally more useful for things like getting birds to sing in chorus or making friends with bunnies, but his family does specialize in slaying evil. She may be skilled at facing enemies of all sorts, but heâs prepared specifically for anyone in her home court who might try to backstab her.)
@ninjakittenarmy Is the gown made of actual spider silk. Because that sounds fitting, especially since spider silk is actually a really good material.
Princess: âYou like it? Itâs made of giant spider silk straight from the underdark!â
Prince: Oh uh thatâs really- wait, you can make clothes out of spider silk?
Princess: Yeah! Itâs really tough too! You can even make light armor out of it.
The two have a several hours long conversation about spider agriculture. The prince receives spider silk under armor as a wedding gift.
Villainess is chilling in Princeâs court one day and a lady of the court storms up to her in tears, make-up running, and is just, âOne of your friends turned my fiance into a newt, a newt, and he fell in the moat before I could catch him and I donât know how to find him, or how to change him back if I do find him, and the library only has information on frog and bear transformations, and no one knows what to to do and youâre the only person who might know what to do, please help me-!â (bursts into inconsolable tears)
This throws Villainess through a loop, people donât tend to whole-heartedly throw their trust in others like this at her place, this is super unsettling, so she just responds in the way she usually would, âOh? And what price are you willing to pay?â
âAnything.â
âŠooooooooh that is so, so tempting, why are people in this court so earnest, donât they realize that the reason the higher nobles are worried about her marriage to their prince is the very real potential that she could use this opportunity to cast their country and its people into a thousand years of ruin and despair, bare minimumâŠ?! But it would make Darling unhappy if sheâs too mean about this, so, âHow about your dignity, then? First off, weâll have to get you out of that dressâŠâ (seductive smirk and cock of the hips)
Court lady: (still in tears but hands immediately go to her bodice laces to start undoing)
Villainess: (grabbing her hands) OKAY, WHOA, HOLD UP, WEâRE IN THE MIDDLE OF COURT, HAVE SOME STANDARDS!!! Just- just go put on something you donât mind getting all messed up, weâre going to have to get in the moat a bit for this, and even the edges are all muddy.
Court lady: Oh. (sniffles) Okay. Thank-you.
They spend the next three hours dredging around the moat to find the right newt and then perform the right ceremony to turn him human again. He appears naked and covered in mud and court lady unabashedly flings herself into his arms, sobbing in relief this time, and itâs disgustingly wholesome and romantic.
Newt Lordling: (once heâs finished doing a bit of sobbing of his own into his fianceâs hair) Wait, arenât you Neskatinaâs friend? Could you tell her that my sister likes daffodils? Girls, and daffodils? I tried to tell her myself, but the newt thing happened before I could get past asking her to stop with the threatening letters. We- we really donât send those around here unless we mean it, sheâs been finding it a bit upsetting. Daffodils would be much better received.
I thought about them more and⊠thereâs no way Court Lady isnât going to decide to be friends with Villainess after all this, is there? She helped her save her fiance when she thought him lost to her forever and had nowhere else to turn, they did what amounts to a mini quest together, theyâre friends now. Villainess has no idea how to handle it when the next court function comes along and Court Lady scampers over (tear-free this time) and proceeds to spend a decent amount of the evening with her just being⊠so unabashedly friendly. Itâs unnerving.
Prince: Sheâs grateful to you and wants to be friends.
Villainess: (glowering suspiciously) Sounds fake.
Prince: She thinks youâre nice.
Villainess: Disgusting.
She still goes when Court Lady invites her on a trip to the meadows with some of the other ladies to pick greens, all of them surprised by the discovery that going out to gather flowers and useful herbs and such is something ladies from both courts do from time to time (though for very different reasons). Itâs common sense to wear an older outfit thatâs all right to get a bit grass- or mud-stained (ladies from the Princeâs court call them their âdaisy dresses,â Villainess and her friends call them âgathering gownsâ), and Villainess is kind of shocked that the pretty nobles from her beloathedâs court do this sort of thing.
The ladies all titter, then itâs story time, because you can bet most of them have a heroic/clever/wise relative somewhere in the family tree who was born a peasant and married or gained nobility for some feat or other, and itâs fun to have someone new in the group who hasnât heard all the stories before. Villainess is surprised again, because she does actually know some of these stories, but from the relatives of the villain involved (usually told in a âyouâll never guess what so-and-soâs idiot relative got thwarted overâ sort of tone). Going on outings like this helps you stay connected to your roots!
Also, Court Lady turns out to be the daughter of the royal apothecary and has a deep knowledge of the properties of various mushrooms. She even knows about poisons because theyâre used in medicine sometimes. Villainess might be starting to like her as a person.
Another lady finds a patch of old teasels and braids them into a crown for Villainess, because âTheyâre all dark and spiky, and about the same colour as your daisy dr- ah, your gathering gown! We tend to make each other flower crowns when we go out, but I thought you might like these better.â
Villainess: âŠwonât they get deceptively yet horribly tangled in my hair, making the crown stay on well but an absolute nightmare to take off?
Lady: (terrified that sheâs judged wrong) YesâŠ?
Villainess: (trying so hard not to be horribly touched, sheâs just allergic to all these non-lethal flowers, thatâs why sheâs suddenly feeling sniffly) Thatâs really thoughtful of you.
To get a touch spicy - both are shocked to discover that their fiance is under the belief that the alignment theyâre not a part of invented bondage.
Prince: It had to have been a villain that invented it, your sideâs the one that gets all clever with ropes and knots and everything!
Villainess: No no no, it must have been your side, because safe words and after care!
They are both very perplexed, but also in absolute agreement that they will not be asking their parents about this.
(Because why go with the trope âgood folks are vanilla in bed and evil folks are spicyâ when you could go with âactually oneâs moral alignment has no effect on what theyâre into in bed and actually itâs a pretty even division of spiciness levels all aroundâ and have both groups get tripped up by the discovery?)
@moviegirlsincedisneyâ Â #amazing #I need comics and books and a tv show #also I imagine after neskatina has sent a bouquet of daffodils with a black ribbon binding them together #she receives a letter threatening her for turning the lordling into a newt from the sister #Itâs filled with scathing comments the likes of which neskatina has never heard from the lips of the Good Folk #at the end of the letter written in tiny print is a post script saying âdid I do it right? youâre cuteâ #Neskatina is disturbed when instead of ruining the effect of the whole letter she is instead only further endeared
[Image ID:] A short comic of someone with pointy ears wearing a hat reading something from their laptop, which results in them pulling their hat over their head and screaming. [End ID]
Thereâs that semi-common trope in a lot of stuff where the Kingâs advisor turns out to be super evil, right? I imagine that could play back into this, where the Princeâs fatherâs advisor is like. Visibly evil and malicious and conniving, complete with backhanded comments and an unsettling name. And Villainess finally meets him and realizes this immediately. She personally finds him to be one of the most tolerable people in the castle, but she is a bit concerned that the Prince doesnât know and that this man could cause some out of place stress to her Beloathed. Eventually she decides to tell him, and so later that night she asks about it.
Villainess: Beloathed, what do you think of your fatherâs advisor?
Prince: Him? Oh, heâs been with the family since my father was a boy. He practically raised Father when my grandfather fell ill. We are lucky to have him with us.
Villainess: âŠare you aware that heâs evil?
Prince: Hm? Oh, yes.
Villainess, now a bit confused: And you havenât removed him from the job? I would have assumed that your people would not tolerate this kind of darkness, especially so close to power.
Prince, shrugging: Itâs kind of a tradition, to be honest. The Kingâs advisors have all been evil for⊠well, centuries now. Itâs something that mostly goes unspoken. The position tends to corrupt people. Eventually he will reveal a daring plot, and I will defeat him to protect the light and discover something new about the side of good.
Villainess: Hmm. I suppose that makes sense.
And later on the Villainess begins to foil the advisorâs plans, mostly because all of them are mediocre and her beloathed deserves a much more challenging trial than that. The Prince is touched that the Villainess is putting this much attention into such a small, unspoken tradition. The advisor is very confused and upset because âwhat do you mean that was a bad plan, I even included poison!â
you KICK cathulhu? you kick her eÌ”lÌ·d̶rÌžiÌ”tÌ·cÌžhÌ” ÌŽfÌŽoÌ”rÌžmÌž like ye olde foote ball? oh! oh! dungeon for prince! dungeon for prince for aÌžÍÌŞ̦ ̶ÌÍÌšÍtÌžÍÍÍhÌ”ÍÌÍ oÌ·ÌżÍÍuÌŽÌÌÍsÌ¶Í ÌÌŁÌaÌ”ÍÌÍnÌŽÌÌÌ°ÌdÌŽÍÌ Ì·ÍÌÌyÌŽÍÍÍeÌ”ÍÌÌa̶ÍÌłÍrÌ”ÍÌÍsÌ”ÌÍÍ!
8O!!! GUYS, ANOTHER SET OF DESIGNS FOR THESE TWO JUST DROPPED AND THEYâRE GORGEOUS!!!! How is everyone who draws these two so good at character design, holy flip, she looks so elegant and menacing, and the design of his armor is fan-
(notices his hand)
Is- oh gods, heâs wearing a ring in the same colour as her jewels, oh thatâs such a beautiful, subtle little touch, I love it!
(Also, one of the odd little things I like best about this piece? Somehow these versions of the couple just look like theyâd get along with @nananarcâs version of them. Theyâre both very distinct takes, but they all feel like they could inhabit the same world, which I choose to interpret as both artists managing to fully encapsulate the vibe of this setting and its characters while also putting their own spins on it. Wonderful!)
The doors to Olympus are sturdy and strong, given everyone's preferences for drama and slamming said doors open and sending them cracking into the wall whenever the opportunity arises. Which is why it's a surprise when they creak open during the once-a-decade pantheon meeting; less so because no entity worth their salt would take so long to open the doors, and more so because everyone who is anyone is already there.
But if everyone is being honest with themselves- which no one is, usually- these gatherings are boring enough that the bland conversation is dropped immediately in favour of craning their necks to catch a glimpse of whatever is coming to relieve them of their boredom.
When the doors finally open however, several of the pantheon murmur in surprise.
"Odysseus," Athena whispers, wide-eyed as she pushes herself off her throne to her feet. It is him- in the king's garb he was buried in, hair long and grey, face oddly blank. His feet are transparent.
"What are you doing here, sceptre?" Poseidon booms, hair the color of a stormy sea. Zeus, beside him, looks reserved, observing the ghost with something approaching curiosity- eyes flicking to the lightning scars on his daughter's face and back. "Your time has long passed, and Hades-"
"It is a temporary agreement," Odysseus says curtly, barely sparing him a glance as he approaches his patron. "Athena."
Her armour clinks as she steps forward and the gods all twitch, trading glances. Owls are silent creatures- to have her aspect so affected to make noise was... uneasy to say the least. She even holds herself different than usual, something like confused delight shining in her eyes. "How did you-"
"Did you sleep with my wife?"
The throne room is silent. Several jaws drop.
Athena straightens back up, blinking in surprise. She looks a bit shifty, some of the nymphs closest whisper to each other, which- well, almost every single god present owed some part of their existence to the mere story of Odysseus loving his wife.
Would he fight his own patron goddess over it in front of Mount Olympus, though? He certainly was unbalanced enough; Athena herself looked rather uncertain of her odds, even though-
"Are you addled in death, King of Ithaka?" Artemis drawls, looking amused. "Did you forget that your own patron is celibate? Whatever rumor you-"
"No, I-" Athena says suddenly, shifting her spear to her other hand. "I did."
Artemis chokes on her breath and several assorted divine beings gasp in shock and the rest shouting for explanations, although everyone is nearly drowned out by Aphrodite's loud, "WHAT?"
Odysseus inhales sharply and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I cannot believe you."
"She asked-" Athena starts, only to be drowned out by the din of various beings screeching and shouting about the scandal.
"ATHENA!" Hera hisses, peacock tail fanning behind her sharply as she pushes herself up. "Explain yourself!"
Athena half-turns to face her, face creased in a frown. "Mother, I-"
"LET ME REPHRASE!" Odysseus cuts in loudly, and the shouting settles down into silence. He walks to his patron, eyes blazing. "I cannot believe," he throws his clenched fists wide as he growls the last word, "-you took Penelope to bed-" Athena surprisingly stays still as he reaches her, mouth falling open as he grabs her by the chiton to yank her down, uncaring of the gasps of horror from all around as he snarls, "-before you ever kissed me."
And then Odysseus grabs Athena by the face roughly and kisses her.
This time Aphrodite's shriek cannot be escaped by anyone.
"Aphrodite, please," Zeus says a few moments later, wincing as his throne reforms around him, stained oddly pink. Quite a few minor entities have discorporated, and the ones nearest to her are still trying to regenerate their hearing. "Control yourself."
Their eyes land back on where Athena has dropped her spear- dropped her spear, Ares in the corner seems to be having some minor hysteria over this, well warranted- and is also on the floor, still being thoroughly kissed by that insufferable, mannerless hero of hers, perched on her stomach to reach. Zeus inhales in fury, Poseidon close behind him as the shock wears off, lightning crackling around his fingers as he opens his mouth to shout- of all the indignities-
"If you two ruin this for me," Aphrodite thunders, warping in front of them and glaring. "I will make you both regret it."
Both gods visibly blanch at the threat, taken aback for one brief moment. Threats from Aphrodite are far worse than any of her more violent siblings, at the end of the day.
Zeus visibly gathers himself just as Athena's helmet clatters to the floor, and he gains a second wind immediately, eye twitching as he spreads a hand to the spectacle in the middle of the hall. "WHAT MANNER OF DISRESPECT IS THIS? TO BARGE INTO OUR MEETING AND THROW ONE OF THE OLDEST GODDESSES TO THE FLOOR LIKE A COMMON WENCH-"
"Zeus," Hera says quietly. Everyone falls silent, although it's not quite enough to stop the two tangled together on the ground. She clears her throat, which finally seems to get through to Athena, who had finally seemed to have gotten over her shock enough to reach out, hands hovering over Odysseus hesitantly. Still, at the noise she seems to remember herself, pushing herself up on an elbow and dislodging him enough to break their necking. He pouts at her, but Athena's eyes are too glazed over to notice, heaving for breath.
Hera opens her mouth to speak, crown manifesting on her brow as she steps in front of the throne, but closes it as the door rattles again.
This time, the spectre shimmers with a faint hint of scales that comes with a freshwater nymph's heritage and excited whispers starved for drama explode across the room as the Queen of Ithaka steps into the room, skirts hitched in her hand and panting as if she'd been running.
"Your Graces," She bows respectfully before entering, Spartan princess through and through, until she catches sight of her husband and Athena, the former of whom seems to have taken the opportunity to start kissing the wisdom goddess again, fingers in her curls.
"What are you doing?" She snaps, rushing over. The entire courtroom holds its breath. She slaps her husband upside the head, making him yelp and move back to shoot her a betrayed look. Athena looks even further dazed than before, cheeks red. "Argos has more manners than you! No wonder Lady Athena wanted nothing to do with you- ah, hello, darling, by the way."
"Penelope," Athena murmurs hoarsely, and the Queen of Ithaka leans down to kiss her as well.
Odysseus chuckles, then jumps with everyone else as Hera slams a hand down on the throne elegantly, cracking it to the base.
"Ah, goddess-" He says, clambering off Athena to bow.
"Silence," Hera interrupts, holding up a hand, eyes cold. "You will not say anything to me apart from an explanation. My agreement for your release from Ogygia was due to the assurance that your marriage was one of the truest I have ever witnessed, conveyed by Athena herself when bartered with all of us to let you go. Tell me, was it a ploy? Because from the disgraceful looks of it, this seems to not be the case in the slightest."
Odysseus frowns, face twisting in confusion. "Athena bartered with...?" He turns to look at his patron, who stares back, unspeaking. His eyes flicker to the lightning scar over her right eye as Penelope traces it with horrified eyes and a gentle thumb, and understanding seems to dawn.
For a moment, rage seems to fill him, glaring with a hatred towards Zeus that everyone whispered later wasn't met by the god king with anger, but a flicker of remorse- before he visibly throws it away behind Athena's old smile and bows.
"God-queen," He says formally, gracefully. Hera twitches a bit, and they'll all talk later about how odd it was to so clearly see Athena's younger mannerisms in the man, down to the curl of the letters. "My marriage to Penelope has never been false, never been broken, this I promise you." He takes Penelope's hand and squeezes it for emphasis, and she raises them as acknowledgement. "But... can you not argue that Athena has been part of our marriage all this time? From its start, where she advised me on courting and her on what to look for, to the twenty years she spent with both of us- me on the battlefield and Penelope in the court; to say nothing of how she helped raise our son and lived in our palace in the days after. And is she not so unbearably beautiful that even my Penelope couldn't wait-" He shoots a glare at her, which Penelope returns with a smile. "-when the chance was presented? How can you fault us for disgrace, after being so long apart from our wife?"
Hera raises both eyebrows at the impudence, the kind of disbelieving expression that hides a warning to tread carefully. "So you claim to be both married to Pallas Athena?"
"In every way that matters except legality," Odysseus says, fearlessly. He is dead, after all, what much can you do to a shade that they didn't already put him through when alive. He is sort of worried about Athena, though, as they both help her back to her feet, Penelope busy whispering compliments and updates and endearments in turn- she's not usually one to be quiet in face of a problem.
Hera tilts her head. "Ah, but you see. I need the legality, if I am to finally-" A helpless, excited smile pulls at her lips once, twice, before unfolding into a bright grin, peacock tails unfolding to their full wingspan. "-finally arrange for a marriage for my eldest daughter who has not once- oh finally, I can hardly believe this day has come-"
"I do not like the way you grabbed her, Sacker of Troy," Ares steps forward as Hera starts ranting half to herself, half to an equally loud assemblage of joyful entities about wedding arrangements, eyes narrowed.
Odysseus barks an incredulous, loud laugh, gesturing to Athena with a slightly crazed look in his eyes. "This lady has broken- and I do not exaggerate- every single bone in my body before I saw my sixteenth year. I have punched her a hundred times in the face when she taught me how to fight. We'll survive, thanks."
"That is fair," Ares steps back, hands raised.
"What duties will you provide as spouses, Ithakan Queen?" Hestia questions, stepping forward.
"Oh, the same we did when we were living," Penelope huffs a laugh. "Keep her busy, make her laugh, be of mild frustration to her, love her well, worship her-"
"I do not. Need to know," Hestia closes her eyes and raises a hand to cut her off, stepping back. Around them, the din catches speed and volume as no further objections arise, excitement spilling into the air.
"What is happening?" Athena says faintly, looking around as if she was just waking up.
"-oh, and we can get out the decor once more! Hebe, Aphrodite, loves, do you remember where we kept the fountains-"
"-finally, a reason to celebrate! Call them all out of hiding-"
"-can't believe this is finally happening, oh sister, what songs should we-
"Why am I getting married," Athena says with much more alarm and horror. She turns to Odysseus and shakes him by the shoulder, eyes wild. "What did you do?"
"Nothing!"
"How is this nothing? Do you have any idea the headache-"
"Athena, sweetheart, will you consider changing for the ceremony?"
Creakily, she turns her head to Hera, disbelief pasted across her face. "Mother," She says slowly. "They are both dead."
"Oh, I'll make a deal with Hades or something, you hush!" Aphrodite leans forward and snaps, before her irritation melts back into a manic joy. "Oh, what paint shall we do?"
Paint, Athena mouths, looking afraid for possibly the first time since her conception.
Penelope laughs and tugs on Athena's hand to make her turn, tucking dishevelled curls behind her ear. She wonders if the goddess knows how beautiful she is when she's flustered. "Take us away," She whispers. On Athena's other side, Odysseus leans against their patron with a besotted, helpless smile as he stares up at her, her helmet and spear in hand. She'd missed Athena like a limb, missed her deep laugh at night when they'd discussed the day's court, the dry jokes, the hands over hers as she weaved- but Odysseus wasn't himself without her, happy though they were in Hades' lands together, all of them.
"I'm-" Athena wavers, then looks around once more at all the excited screaming, something unreadable flashing in her eyes. Almost against her will, her eyes fall to Zeus, who is sitting silently and staring back at her. Poseidon looks like he still wants to start a fight, but clearly by his wary looks below can tell he will be heavily outnumbered by the overexcited crowd to not try.
"We ask you formally this time," King Odysseus says, walking in front of her to take her attention away, holding onto her hand. His voice has strength in it, drawing the eyes of the murmuring crowd, but he's deaf to it as he stares up at her.
"Will you be our wife?" Queen Penelope asks, joining him, watching their beautiful patron shudder for breath she does not need as her eyes flick to one of them and then the other.
"Yes," She whispers and cheers erupt all across Mount Olympus.
"Finally!" Odysseus complains, and then pulls her down once more to kiss her, all three of them fading at the edges as one of the generous gods present there- who seems to realize that they're not very inclined to stop anytime soon- thankfully teleports them away into a nice room with a large bed.
"Finally," He whispers as he breaks apart to lay her down, cupping her face, voice heavy with the longing of a full lifetime and more. Penelope circles to the head of the bed and starts undoing Athena's braid, staring at them both lovingly.
Later the ones closest will murmur, as the silhouettes faded away, that tears had slipped from proud Pallas Athena's eyes as she placed one hand against Odysseus' cheek, trembling.
"I missed you," She will whisper back, and all three of them fade away to their own story, yet to be made.
Athena shoots upright as soon as her eyes fly open, gasping. She calls on her spear and slashes in a brutal curve, provoking shouts from the enemies who'd been holding her down as they back off. Bares her teeth in a snarl as she grabs the sheets off the bed to whip at the eyes of the assailants and-
Light floods into her eyes as they step away from her attack and she freezes as she remembers a flash of brightness too fast to escape, heat and burning like never before, electricity that seeped into her very bones, thunder that deafened, lightning that hurt-
"Get back!" She hears and turns unsteadily back to- back to where Apollo is pulling Ares back by the cape against the far wall. Apollo. Ares. Aphrodite, Aephestus, Artemis.
"Wh-" She manages, before she's bowled over, coughing. She has never done it before, and she can't stop it from happening- chest rattling as her knees give out, barely holding herself up with her spear in time to reach the bed. It doesn't stop, doesn't stop, plumes of smoke escaping her mouth as she can't stop, can't breathe-
"Athena," Hera whispers, and a rough hand gently touches her on the shoulder, handing her a glass of nectar. She accepts it gratefully, tilting her head back to down it. It's soothing like it's never been before, stoping the coughing at last and it clears her headache long enough to realize that she isn't in her armour- she's in a chiton.
"Where is my armour?" She rasps as soon as she can, wiping her mouth. Looks around- Apollo's chambers.
She'd always known being the favourite wouldn't protect her forever. But repeating the words didn't seem to reduce the hurt.
Nor the shaking fear.
"-not!" Apollo is saying, indignantly setting his hands on his hips. "Do you have any idea how hard you got hit? You're lucky I could even stabilize your aspect enough to reduce some of the damage, otherwise you'd still be having a seizure back at Mount Olympus!"
"Mount Olympus," Athena mutters oddly, without much intent to it. She tries to stand again and her vision suddenly cuts out, provoking a round of screams as she loses her balance.
When the world blurrily comes back into focus- and she doesn't like this, hates this sudden weakness; she's always been able to get back up from any blow, has never visited a medical chamber in her existence, even when they had to fight the Titans- she's in Ares' arms, oddly horizontal.
"Cease this stupidity, sister," Artemis hisses at her as she grabs onto Athena's arms to bring her back to the bed. "Calm yourself. You are alive. You are safe."
"My armour," Athena says, voice cracking, head rolling oddly on her neck, unable to look upright. She catches a glimpse of Aephastus holding onto a sobbing Aphrodite, staring at her with a strange sort of sorrow.
Something twinges in Athena's chest in reply, but she stumbles before she can address it, feeling a fission of panic at the instability before Ares' grip on her tightens enough to keep her upright. They're all staring at her like that, she realizes, with that same horrified heartbreak.
"Didn't Artemis just tell you to cease stupidity?" Ares barks, though it's rather quietly said, for him. He adjusts her on the bed until she can lean back against the pillows. His hands are shaking, and Athena stares at them with curiosity. "Weren't you the one to lecture me half to death about when to remove the armour?"
"What," She says weakly, then moans as an aftershock trembles through her, residual sparks humming maliciously as they exit her skin, leaving her trembling. "I- hmmm, what? What were- what were-"
"Athena, calm down, please, you're scaring us," Hera says, bangles jangling as she sits down next to her, taking one of Athena's hands with desperation. Athena tilts her head to squint, noticing the tears for the first time, before she shudders as her skin registers the heat, the unbearable heat.
"Scaring?" She murmurs when it stops, voice coming out smaller than she intended it to.
"Her fever keeps rising and falling," Apollo reenters the room before anyone can answer, carrying a large tub of some odd liquid. "Here, help me rub this on her skin, it should extract any remaining- any remaining lightning."
They all move towards the tub at the same time, dipping the cloths provided and then taking positions in a circle surrounding her. Athena stiffens, fingers twitching for a weapon, but the first touch of Hera's drenched cloth on her forehead makes her moan in relief, the blessed coolness of it making her melt back into the sheets. She has no strength to complain or protest when her fellow gods each take a limb to rub at, a sensation both horrifically terrible and unbearably good. She has never taken her armour off in her life.
"Easy, that's it," Apollo says coaxingly, lips downturned like he's trying not to cry. She whimpers as the cloth on her left leg suddenly burns as a spark escapes, instinctively pulling it away, but Aphrodite grabs it before she can and resumes rubbing, whispering apologies. She turns her head and weakly opens her mouth for the herb Apollo lifts to her lips, desperate for relief from the splitting headache.
She can't think. She can't think.
Athena has no idea how long it goes on, how long the other gods ignore their realms to tend to her. Slowly, they strike up a conversation, something light-hearted that she can't follow- different from their never-ending arguments and insults, as they talk about the past year and humourous stories and varied anecdotes.
Athena can't help but relax into it, the soft bed at her back and gentle hands massaging her sore muscles and warmth all around her. Feels something trembling within her since she first became aware of herself settling down with a sigh.
Until she suddenly smells ozone.
Hera and Apollo both notice her tensing up immediately, and look to where she can hear slow footsteps approaching. Apollo growls and shoots out a hand, bringing up the shields of his realm.
The conversation dies down as they all look to the side, at the distinct shadow at the other side of the curtain.
Rage, Athena realises, thoughts slow and muddied. They're angry with him.
"I will handle this," Hera says coldly, with the steel undertone that Athena strives for. She moves her cloth aside and leans down to kiss Athena on the forehead, like a mother would. "You rest, my daughter."
Athena's breath hitches, eyes burning. Nobody has ever cared for her, apart from Zeu-
Nobody has ever cared for her.
... Nobody has-
Hera turns sharply at the noise that suddenly escapes Athena, half hysterical laugh and half distraught wail.
"Did I win?" Athena asks desperately, pushing herself upright, ignoring the protests of the others as she pulls her limbs from their grasp. Hera stares at her and Athena grabs the side of the bed as she tries to lever herself up like a wild animal, demanding in a broken voice, "Did I win?"
A silence that stretches for a painful moment before- "Yes," Aephastus says, putting his hand on her shoulder to guide her back from the edge. "Yes, Athena, you won."
A strangled gasp of relief leaves her, making her light-headed as she leans back against the pillows. She shivers, then sobs- humiliation running through her before she hears an answering noise of sorrow from Aphrodite next to her, pressure all around as her five younger siblings embrace her carefully, gently, like she would break at any moment.
She's not the one who's been raped by a Titan's daughter for seven years.
The thought has her breath hitching, wiping her tears away with a hand that refuses to co-operate the first few tries. "I need to-"
"No," Artemis snaps, glaring at her. "I know you think of nothing but your work, but Athena, you cannot do it this time." Outside, Hera's and Zeus' voices rise as they begin to shout and scream. "You must rest."
"N-no, that's not- aah," She groans as another aftershock rips through her, leaving her panting and soaked in sweat when it's done. "I need to- I need-"
"Hermes has gone to his grandson," Aephastus says soothingly. "Peace, Athena. Your hero is free."
For a moment, it doesn't comprehend and she stares at him blankly. "Free," She repeats, words still infuriatingly faint and lilting. "He's free? I- I need my helmet, where is-"
"No, Athena!"
"Sister, please, you cannot resume your duties, you are in no state!"
"I need my helmet, please, please- just give me my helmet!"
Her cry echoes off the walls and she hears herself when it bounces back to her, broken and pleading and so unlike her she feels nauseous. Her siblings have gone silent and still at her begging, staring at her with shock and horror and fear and sorrow alike. Even Zeus and Hera have stopped talking.
Athena shakes, wishing she could rip this awful vulnerability out of her veins, wishes she could find a stone footing to stand on once more, wishes she wasn't in this horrible chiton.
"Please," She whispers.
Quietly, Aephastus gets to his feet and walks in the direction of the nearby drawers, where she can now see her belongings stacked up haphazardly, blood-stained.
"Sister, you must calm down," Aphrodite pleads. She takes her hands and Athena dazedly looks down at her, with her wide, scared eyes. Seizure, her mind registers finally from Apollo's earlier talk. Ah. She seems to have frightened them all. "You cannot afford a relapse."
Athena squeezes her fingers in acknowledgement, but reaches for the helmet when it's held out, dented and worn.
She touches the metal and feels the full force of seven years of silenced prayers hit her at once.
She's crying before she knows she's doing it, clutching the helmet to her chest as the warmth of the worship wraps around her like a shawl, and holds it tight against her as Ares tries to pry it away.
"No, no!" Apollo intervenes, shifting forward. He touches a hand to the helmet and suddenly the hymn bursts forth around them, loud even though the prayer itself is quiet and broken. Athena inhales at the feeling of it, soothing over the cracks in her own mind with their never-ending continuity, desolate, unbroken faith even when she never came to help-
He's still singing.
She shifts her hands on the helmet to make sure but- yes. Odysseus is calling her, still, at this very moment.
Her head snaps up, but even the dizziness the motion causes doesn't take away from how much clearer the room looks. "Where is he?"
"Sister-"
"If you do not answer me, I will take to the skies myself," She says firmly. "Where is he?"
Her siblings exchange looks.
"Three days out from Ithaka," Artemis replies with a sigh. "On a raft. But listen, wait but an hour, at least absorb these prayers-"
Athena stumbles off the bed and pulls on the helmet, closing her eyes.
"Wait, the bandages-!"
"Athena, you'll hurt yourself, please!"
"Daughter, be careful!"
Athena opens her eyes and looks out at the waves, rough and choppy, but not enough to sink the raft. She looks down and looks at the way the faded clothes don't fit him, the way he has no water left to drink but he still continues to sing.
"Odysseus," She says, and he freezes.
A wave rises and falls. They stay silent, unmoving.
"Won't you look?" The words break out of her, cracked and desperate.
He inhales and exhales, tears in the sound of it. "I don't want to look if you're... if you're not really here."
She swallows against the lump in her throat, takes a step forward. "Well, I-" Her voice cracks, but the fragile grin on her face is real as it spreads, the frailest thread of laughter entering her voice. "I would hope. That if you were hallucinating of me, that the spectre would at least have wisdom enough to tell you that you were."
Odysseus sobs and her heart cracks, feels his heart cracking in turn; yet it is akin to a misaligned bone that never healed right and has to be reset- she can hear the laughter before it comes, with relief coming from the brink of madness, with joy they'd both forgotten and missed. "It is you."
"I could not reach you on Ogygia," She blurts out, desperate to make him understand. "Could not hear your call. I would have come the second time you prayed, if I had."
"It is you," He whispers, swaying. A wave rises suddenly and they both burst into movement, grabbing ropes and pulling the mast, balancing together to keep it steady.
The wave passes. They are almost touching now.
"Won't you look?" Athena asks again, raw and grieving. "Odysseus. My companion, my friend. Please."
He turns at that, a stunned expression on his face- before it turns into wide-eyed horror as he looks at her. She laughs breathlessly, slightly dizzy, but- her friend. How lovely it is to see him again.
"Athena!" He rushes forward with unexpected vitality, the parts of him that she knew suddenly rising to light in his eyes, in his movements, becoming unhidden from the defeated, beaten figure he'd been moments before. "What in Gaia's name-"
"I'm sorry," She interrupts as she slumps forward into the hands on her arms, off-balance. "I should have tried better to understand, all those years ago. I understand now and I- Odysseus, I am-"
"Athena, shut up," Odysseus snaps, clearly panicking. She laughs again, because isn't it such a novelty, to have a person who will have the audacity to tell her to? "Of course it's forgiven, I'm sorry too, I should have fucking listened back then- but listen, what in Hades happened to you? Why do you look like this- why do you have bandages- Hermes wouldn't answer when I asked if something happened to you, fuck-"
"Peace," Athena rasps, even as her vision blinks in and out, forcing her to kneel. They both grimace as another wave crashes into the raft, but they don't upturn. Odysseus kneels down with her, staring at her with such worry and concern she can feel nothing but fondness. "The disagreements of gods are often violent."
"Gods-" His eyes flicker to the side of her face, and he frowns, reaching out to push back the helmet. She bends her face down to let him, feeling an odd burning on the left side that she has a vague bad feeling about- proved right when Odysseus' expression falls into blank horror. "You got into a fight with-"
"Yes."
"But he's your-"
"I know. He did not take kindly to my petition to release you," She smiles dryly, without mirth.
"To release me?" Odysseus wheezes, face cracking into anguish and disbelief alike. "Athena, what- I- I'm not worth-"
"It was worth it," She snaps. "Consider it my penance for abandoning my own. I certainly don't regret it."
"I never felt abandoned," Odysseus whispers, taking her hands as she shifts, supporting her body with his own as they lean against the mast. She looks at him, and remembers why Penelope is still weaving, why he's still out on the waters, why Ithaka is waiting out the suitors till Telemachus takes the throne. "I always knew you would come back. I just figured it would take ten years more, perhaps."
Athena is silent for a bit, absorbing that. And then, because she can't hold it back any longer- "I am sorry about your men." His breath hitches under her and she turns to take him in her arms, knowing what's coming. "I am sorry about your friends."
He sobs, ugly and loud, and she holds him tighter. "I am sorry that Titan's whelp had you for so long, and what she did to you. I am sorry the Fates were so unkind."
"Athena," He keens, finally falling to pieces. The sobs are mere loud gasps for air at first, before it dissolves into wailing, screaming, grieving for all the men they'd kept alive through a war, only to lose them to this cruel tragedy instead. Even she hadn't known- hadn't anticipated how wrong things would go after she left. Hadn't even thought that he hadn't reached home.
"It's all my fucking fault," He shouts, shaking. "If only I had- if only-"
"It is not. No one could have known," She whispers. "The Fates are unknown to us all."
He sobs louder and she closes her eyes.
But finally, their tears dry up. She holds him still, as the night fades and the sun rises again, trying to take his hurt into herself so he can be happy again.
"I am sorry," She whispers, seaspray around them. "That my enemies became your own. That I pushed you so hard. That I chose you, and brought pain to your life so."
"Hey now," Odysseus says, pulling back to look at her, a broken smile on his face. "Hold your blasphemous tongue, before you insult the wisdom of Pallas Athena." She laughs, even as tears spill over. "Even if I had the chance to choose again right at this moment, my goddess, I would still choose you."
"That means more than you know," Athena murmurs, overcome. She gathers all her strength and reaches out to run a hand over his head, soothing his mind and driving away the last tendrils of madness that were still holding onto him. He sighs and relaxes under her, some visible weight lifting from his shoulders. "Still. I will learn from my mistakes. If you would give your old friend a chance-"
"Stop right there. Of course I-" Odysseus scoffs, reaching out to hold her left cheek for emphasis. "Athena, your left eye is half gone."
"Ah. Well, that explains the depth perception," She mutters, then bursts into giggles at the incredulous look on his face.
"Are you drugged?" Odysseus demands, but he's already trying not to laugh himself. They both move on fast. "What am I saying, of course you are- have you been drugged this whole time? Who on Earth drugged you?"
"That would be me," Apollo says, crossing his arms.
Odysseus snarls, grabbing his sword and swinging wildly in an arc, half-animal in his panic, pushing Athena behind him.
"FUCKING- whoa, hey, calm down, it's her brother, it's Apollo!" Apollo half-shrieks inelegantly, jumping back. "Honestly! Athena, call off your hero, please."
"Apollo?" Odysseus tilts his head, lowering his sword and narrowing his eyes.
Apollo stares at him. "Wow, you two- really do act the exact same, huh. Yes, Apollo, god of please let me change your fucking bandages, do you mind?"
Odysseus bows and murmurs apologies, clearly wary of getting into more trouble, but to her mild surprise walks behind Athena instead of to the other side of the raft.
"I don't need assistance," She mutters to him, even as she grimaces at the length of the chiton as she tries to pull herself upright.
"You're still dizzy," Odysseus points out, settling in behind her to hold her steady. He wipes at the tears still on his face and smiles at her. She manages a half-smile back. "Do you need to go back to Olympus?"
"Yes," Artemis crosses her hands and Odysseus' fingers tighten painfully on her shoulders.
"I'm not quite certain there's space for so many on this raft," Athena mutters.
"It's a magical raft, it'll survive- but never mind that, could you not have at least sent a message that you were okay?"
"Well, maybe you should have thought of that before running off without a word!"
"Really, daughter, you should know better!"
Odysseus grip is bruising now, and his sword is in front of Athena protectively; she can already tell what moves he's planning to use if they choose to attack. "Who..?" He asks lowly.
"Pantheon. At ease," She replies back shortly, before looking up at the others. "I thank you, my fellow go- my family, for your worry and concern. But we are only two days out from Ithaka and I would like to see this journey completed."
"You are not going to see yourself completed, if you don't rest," Apollo says, roughly at the exact same time that Athena undermines her own argument by throwing up on the raft.
"Athena, go," Odysseus says urgently when it's over, handing her helmet back to her and adjusting her cape as Hera kneels down beside her to hand her another glass of nectar, looking at him oddly. Odysseus grimaces and changes his tone. "I will be fine, patroness. I'll call for you when I reach the shores."
Movement catches her eye and she sees Ares remove his own helmet, giving her a reproving look. She remembers the speech he was talking about now- the one she'd loudly ranted at him when she was drunk a year ago, thinks about how much more at ease he is now.
"Alright," She acquiesces and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. "Two days."
Mania fills Odysseus' eyes as he smiles back, finally home from a war twenty years ago. "Two days."
Athena grins, even as she feels Hera wrap an arm around her to take her away. "Penelope is waiting."
Odysseus' eyes widen, then fill with tears, like he'd never quite truly let himself believe it; but his smile is wide and true. "Penelope is waiting. Thank you, Pallas Athena."
"You don't thank friends," She murmurs, exhaustion settling in. Odysseus laughs and the last thing she feels is a warm hand on her cheek and their foreheads pressed together, before the world goes black and she knows no more.
Homemaking, gardening, and self-sufficiency resources that wonât radicalize you into a hate group
It seems like self-sufficiency and homemaking skills are blowing up right now. With the COVID-19 pandemic and the current economic crisis, a lot of folks, especially young people, are looking to develop skills that will help them be a little bit less dependent on our consumerist economy. And I think thatâs generally a good thing. I think more of us should know how to cook a meal from scratch, grow our own vegetables, and mend our own clothes. Those are good skills to have.
Unfortunately, these âself-sufficiencyâ skills are often used as a recruiting tactic by white supremacists, TERFs, and other hate groups. They become a way to reconnect to or relive the âgood old days,â a romanticized (false) past before modern society and civil rights. And for a lot of people, these skills are inseparably connected to their politics and may even be used as a tool to indoctrinate new people.
In the spirit of building safe communities, hereâs a complete list of the safe resources Iâve found for learning homemaking, gardening, and related skills. Safe for me means queer- and trans-friendly, inclusive of different races and cultures, does not contain Christian preaching, and does not contain white supremacist or TERF dog whistles.
Homemaking/Housekeeping/Caring for your home:
Making It by Kelly Coyne and Erik Knutzen [book] (The big crunchy household DIY book; includes every level of self-sufficiency from making your own toothpaste and laundry soap to setting up raised beds to butchering a chicken. Authors are explicitly left-leaning.)
Safe and Sound: A Renter-Friendly Guide to Home Repair by Mercury Stardust [book] (A guide to simple home repair tasks, written with rentals in mind; very compassionate and accessible language.)
How To Keep House While Drowning by KC Davis [book] (The book about cleaning and housework for people who get overwhelmed by cleaning and housework, based on the premise that messiness is not a moral failing; disability and neurodivergence friendly; genuinely changed how I approach cleaning tasks.)
Gardening
Rebel Gardening by Alessandro Vitale [book] (Really great introduction to urban gardening; explicitly discusses renter-friendly garden designs in small spaces; lots of DIY solutions using recycled materials; note that the author lives in England, so check if plants are invasive in your area before putting them in the ground.)
Country/Rural Living:
Woodsqueer by Gretchen Legler [book] (Memoir of a lesbian who lives and works on a rural farm in Maine with her wife; does a good job of showing what itâs like to be queer in a rural space; CW for mentions of domestic violence, infidelity/cheating, and internalized homophobia)
âDebunking the Off-Grid Fantasyâ by Maggie Mae Fish [video essay] (Deconstructs the off-grid lifestyle and the myth of self-reliance)
Sewing/Mending:
Annika Victoria [YouTube channel] (No longer active, but their videos are still a great resource for anyone learning to sew; check out the beginner project playlist to start. This is where I learned a lot of what I know about sewing.)
Make, Sew, and Mend by Bernadette Banner [book] (A very thorough written introduction to hand-sewing, written by a clothing historian; lots of fun garment history facts; explicitly inclusive of BIPOC, queer, and trans sewists.)
Sustainability/Land Stewardship
Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer [book] (Most of you have probably already read this one or had it recommended to you, but it really is that good; excellent example of how traditional animist beliefs â in this case, indigenous American beliefs â can exist in healthy symbiosis with science; more philosophy than how-to, but a great foundational resource.)
Wild Witchcraft by Rebecca Beyer [book] (This one is for my fellow witches; one of my favorite witchcraft books, and an excellent example of a place-based practice deeply rooted in the land.)
Avoiding the âCrunchy to Alt Right Pipelineâ
Note: the âcrunchy to alt-right pipelineâ is a term used to describe how white supremacists and other far right groups use âcrunchyâ spaces (i.e., spaces dedicated to farming, homemaking, alternative medicine, simple living/slow living, etc.) to recruit and indoctrinate people into their movements. Knowing how this recruitment works can help you recognize it when you do encounter it and avoid being influenced by it.
âThe Crunchy-to-Alt-Right Pipelineâ by Kathleen Belew [magazine article] (Good, short introduction to this issue and its history.)
Sisters in Hate by Seyward Darby (I feel like I need to give a content warning: this book contains explicit descriptions of racism, white supremacy, and Neo Nazis, and itâs a very difficult read, but it really is a great, in-depth breakdown of the role women play in the alt-right; also explicitly addresses the crunchy to alt-right pipeline.)
These are just the resources Iâve personally found helpful, so if anyone else has any they want to add, please, please do!
My partner has been getting really into Sandor Ellix Katzâs work on fermentation, and ended up checking out The Art of Fermentation from the library so many times that I just got him a copy.
Itâs really good! Heâs read snippets of this and Katzâs other books to me, and the guy is really committed to sharing knowledge, uplifting indigenous knowledge and voices, and educating the world in how much nutrition, health, and culture weâve lost as big corporations have chipped away at traditional at-home fermentation practices in favor of dead, sterile food and a fear of beneficial bacteria.
Fermentation is so much easier than you think it is, so much cheaper, and so so tasty. Seriously recommend giving it a look.
âX bodily fluid is just filtered blood!â buddy I hate to break it to you but ALL of the fluids in your body are filtered blood. Your circulatory system is how water gets around your body. It all comes out of the blood (or lymph, which is just filtered blood).
âOkay but why is it always so chemically roundabout and unnecessarily complicatedâ well buddy, thatâs because your blood is imitation seawater. See? Itâs very simple.
#are you telling me#humans are just sentient aquariums?Â
Buddy if anything is living in your blood (except for more parts of you) in detectable amounts then you have a serious microbial infection and need to go to the hospital.
Humans are seawater wastelands kept sterile of all but human cells, with microbial mats coating their surfaces.
#/blood is imitation seawater/ is the part thatâs confusingÂ
Picture this: you are a Thing That Lives In The Ocean. Some kind of small multicellular animal a long time ago, before proper circulatory systems existed. âWow,â you think, metaphorically, âit sure is difficult to diffuse chemicals across my whole body. Kinda puts a hard limit on the size and distance of what specialised organs I can have. Good thing I have all this water around me thatâs the same salinity as my cells (they have to be that way so I donât explode or shrivel up) so I can diffuse and filter chemicals with that.â
âWait a minute,â you say a couple of generations later, because youâre not actually a small animal but an evolutionary process personified and simplified to the point of dangerous inaccuracy for the purposes of a Tumblr post, âinstead of losing all these important chemicals to the water around me, how about I put it in tubes? I can keep MY water separate from the rest of the worldâs water! Anything I want to keep goes in my water! Anything I donât, I dump back into the outside water! Iâm a genius! An unthinking natural trial-and-error process thatâs a GENIUS!â
âWow,â you think a great many generations later, âbeing able to have such control over such high concentrations of important chemicals is so great. Look how big Iâm getting. I even have a special pump to move my seawater around, and these cool filter systems to keep the chemicals in it right, and that control and chemical concentration has let me grow so many energy-intensive, highly specialised organs! Being big is so hard. I need special cells just to carry my oxygen around now, to make sure my enormous, constantly-operating body has enough of it.â
At this point you are embodying a fish, and eventually, fish start straying into water with different pressures and salinity levels. (I mean, they do that since befor ehtyâer fish, but⊠look, Iâm trying to keep things simple here.) âWhat the FUCK,â you think. âMy inside water is at a different salinity and pressure to the outside water?? How am I supposed to deal with that? I canât have freshwater inside my seawater tubes! My cells have a set salinity and they would explode! I need to start beefing up my regulatory and filter systems so that my inside seawater STAYS SEAWATER OF THE CORRECT SALINITY even if the outside water is different! Fortunately, adding salt to my seawater is a lot easier than removing it, and I want to be saltier than this weird outside water.â At this point you beef up your liver and urinary systems to compensate for different salinities. (Note: the majority of fish, freshwater and saltwater, have a fairly narrow band of salinities they can live in. Every fish doesnât get to deal with every level of salinity; they are evolved to regulate within specific bands.)
You also, at some point, go out on land. This is new and weird because you have to carry all of your water inside. âItâs a good thing I turned myself into a giant bag of seawater,â you think. âIf I wasnât carrying my seawater inside, how would I transport all these important chemicals between my organs and the environment?â As you specialise to live entirely outside of the water, you realise (once again) that itâs a lot easier to add salt to water than to remove it in great quantities. Drinking seawater in large amounts becomes toxic; your body isnât specialised for removing that amount of salt. Instead, you drink freshwater, and add salts to that. The majority of your organs are, at this point, specialised for moving your seawater around, protecting it, adding stuff to it, or taking stuff out. You have turned yourself into an intelligent bag for carrying and regulating a small amount of imitation seawater, and its salinity (and your commitment to maintaining that salinity) is based entirely on the seawater that some early animals started to build tubes around a long time ago.
Because at some point, operating along lines of logic that worked out perfectly so far, you did decide to be a mammal.
A mammal is a machine for adapting to Circumstances. A mammal is a tremendously resilient all-terrain life-support system, with built-in heating, cooling, respiration, and incubators for reproduction. Mammals internalise everything (grudges, eggs) and furthermore are excessively, flamboyantly wet internally. Sure, everyoneâs a bag of chemicals; but mammals slosh. Mammals took the concept of an internal ocean and took it in an unnecessarily splashy direction, added aftermarket mods and a climate-control system,
and just to show off, you leaned across the metaphorical gambling table and said: âmy internal ocean is so good-â
âBullshit,â said the shark, keeping it salty (ha)
âMy internal ocean is so brilliantly resilient, more so than any of YOURS,â you said, holding their attention with a digit held aloft, âthat for my next trick, I shall artistically recreate the ballad of evolution as a performance. I shall craft a complex chemical ballet depicting the origin of multicellular life - using some of my own material, of course-â
âOh, ANYONE can lay an egg,â yodel the fish, and the ray adds: âontogeny does NOT recapitulate phylogeny!!â
And youâre like, âyeah no, itâs an artistic rendition, not a literal thing. Basically Iâm going to take some cells and brew them up-â
âLike an egg.â
âLike an egg. An egg but internally.â
âYeah,â said the viviparous reptile, âyeah, like, that can work really well. Iâve always said itâs the highest test of oneâs chemical know-how. Itâs a lot of work. And forget about support from your family - forget about support from your PHYLUM - all you get is criticism.â
âIâm gonna do it on purpose forever,â you said. âThe highest chemical, thermoregulatory, immunological, everything-logical challenge. Itâs gonna be my thing.â
âIâm with you,â said a viviparous fish, stoutly. âRepresentation.â
You kindly donât point out, once again, that youâre planning to do this outside the ocean, in a range of temperatures; carrying the dividing cells in a perfect 37.5âą solution of saline broth in all terrains, breathing oxygen in a complicated matter, you know, bit more difficult; but you need your allies.
âItâs solid,â says the coelacanth.
âBut is it metal?â says the deep-vent organism.
âOh, itâs metal. I will feed the young,â you say, magnificently, âon an echo of the mother ocean. The first rich feast of cellular matter, the first hunt for sustenance, the first bite they sip of our liquid planet-â
Everyone waits.
âWill be a blood byproduct. My own blood byproduct.â
Everyone looks uncomfortable.
âBut,â a hagfish says carefully, âdonât you outdoorsy guys still need your blood?â
You cough and explain that if you stay wet enough internally and hydrate frequently, you should be able to produce enough blood byproduct to sustain your hellish new invention until they can eat your peers.
The outrage that follows includes questions like âis this some furry shit?â And: âmilk has WATER in it?â
And you won the bet. âMy inner ocean is such a perfect homage to the primordial soup that I can personally cook up an entire live hairy mammal in it. And then generate excess blood byproduct from my body and give it to the small mammal until it gets big.â
That is an absolutely bonkers pitch, by the way, and everyone thought you were a showoff, even before the opposable thumbs. When the winter came, and the winter of winters, and the rain was acid and the air was poison on the tender shells of their eggs and choked the children in the shells; when the plants turned to poison, and the ocean turned against you all; when the climate changed, and the worldâs children fell to shadow; your internal ocean was it that held true. A bet laid against the changing fates, a bet laid by a small beast against climate and geography and the forces of outer space, that you won. The dinosaurs fell and the pterosaurs fell and the marine reptiles dwindled, and you, furthest-child, least-looked-for, long-range-spaceship, held hope internally at 37.5 degrees. Which is another thing that humans do, sometimes.
It has been MONTHS, @elodieunderglass, and I am still mumbling âfurthest-child, least-looked-for, long-range-spaceshipâ under my breath as a comfort phrase, and the FUCKING INDIGNITY that it came from this godforsaken post about THE HORRIBLE WETNESS OF MAMMALS!
(transcript because I couldnât find one in the notes)
Stephen Colbert: A lot of writers say they were nerdy kids, unpopular, like outcasts, or that sort of thing; was that your experience growing up?
BJ Novak: I think thatâs exaggerated, I think a lot of people love to say, âoh I was such a nerdâ or âI was such a rebel, I sat in the back of the busâ. Most people sat in the middle of the bus. Thatâs how buses work. So, you know, people say-
Colbert: So you were sitting in the middle?
Novak: Yeah, thatâs where I sat! I mean, I did my homework and y'know, dreamed of being a bit of a rebel. I did a very nerdy version of rebellion, which I guess is sort of my way of balancing where I sat on the bus.
When I was 14, I got it in my head that I wanted a fake ID. and I committed what- the only term for it is âidentity theftâ, to get this fake ID. So this is the kind of nerd- Iâve never told this story before, this is pretty much the nerdiest way you can be like, âa bad kidâ. I went to the Newton library where I grew up, and I went through their polling records⊠buckle in.
Colbert: I think youâve already - just that sentence has violated a federal law, but go ahead.
Novak: Yeah, thereâs a handful of these, and I actually tried to google the statute of limitations on this before the show and couldnât get the WiFi.
Colbert: Okay.
Novak: So I looked up -this is true- I looked up someone that was 21 years old, through their polling records.
Colbert: And youâre 14.
Novak: I was 14 years old, I looked up someone who was 21 who had my same first name and initial, because I thought, âif I get drunkâ -I had never been drunk. I was like, âif I forget my name, I canât get bustedâ. So I found someone who was âBenjamin J. [something]â. So I found this guyâs name and I thought, âif I can just forge all his documents, I can go to the DMV and say I lost my license and theyâll give me a new license with his pictureâ, this is my plan. Â
So first I need to know where heâs born so I can get his birth certificate, so I call his house. I ask for him, I donât know what i would have done, I get his brother and I say âI work with Ben, weâre doing a crossword puzzle based on his life for his birthday. Can you tell me what town he was born in?â. So he told me and I took the subway there and I got his birth certificate.
Colbert: How- You went to the- You went to like the county clerk and said-
Novak: They didnât ask for ID, they just gave me his birth certificate. Then I opened up a mailbox in his name and wrote- I was 14, I didnât know what i was doing- I wrote to the IRS.
Colbert: Uh-huhâŠ
Novak: And I filled out tax forms in his name. And then I went to the DMV and said âI lost my wallet and I need to-this is all i haveâ. And i looked 14 years old, but I had these documents, so they sent me to the backroom with this woman who sized me up and said âI canât give you this, you donât even have a pictureâ, and then said with a wry smile on her face, âOpen your wallet right now.â
and like a true method actor, the only thing I had in my wallet was a library card I had signed in his name.
And she approved it, and for the rest of high school I had this actual driverâs license, with my picture on it.
[audience cheering]
Novak: Iâm glad we have some support. You have a look on your face- I donât know if that was funny or if you just broke the lawâŠ
Colbert: It was fantastic, I just hope you have a good lawyer.
âI was 14, I didnât know what I was doingâ said of a caper pulled off with a calculated, methodical demeanor that would make Hannibal Lecter blush
cotton and Silk thread; https://redrockthreads.com/
Linen thread and wool fabric; https://burnleyandtrowbridge.com/ (theyâve got wool stuffs and worsted wool fabric for $15 a yard! I just got three yards of navy worsted wool Iâm making a constellation winter skirt from)
More linen thread and wool; https://wmboothdraper.com/ (just ordered wool broadcloth to make a coat)
Silk fabric (THE best place to get silk lining fabrics and raw silk fabric):https://www.dharmatrading.com/
A varying assortment of wool and silk and cotton and even some leather, use coupon code spring2020 for 50% off your full order, worked yesterday when I bought some stuff there; https://metrotextilesnyc.com/
Wool. You want wool coating for under $20 a yard? Sure you do. Itâs here. Not a huge variety of colors, most are black or brown, but hey https://www.fashionfabricsclub.com/Catalog?refinementIds=4096748&Keyword=wool&pageSize=16
I donât know a lot about sewing, but I want to make or have my mom make some linen pants & shirts for when Iâm watering, because it gets to 105 here and we have mosquitos so I need to be covered. What type of linen do I buy? Also, linen pajama shorts, yes/no?
(Iâve been wearing my renfaire pants which are a linen mix, I think. But the frikking mosquitos that hide in the tomatoes get my arms)
For wools, I cannot recommend Woolsome enough! Theyâre a bit more expensive then the above links, but they have a spectacular range of colours and weights, as well as diamond pattern and herringbone weaves. They also have a range of linens, though not as extensive.
I based a set of D&D villains around the six main stats called Virtues. (think Full Metal Alchemist sins, except Strength, Constitution, Dexterity, etc..) My favorite of the bunch was Charm. Her conceit was she could persuade, lie, cheat, change appearance, and manipulate the players pretty much however she wanted, but the second someone attacked her she would go down. I introduced her relatively early into the campaign, and I was a bit nervous because I was pretty upfront about her introduction. I didn't say it explicitly, but it was pretty obvious Charm was a Virtue from the offset. I thought "well, I like this character a lot, maybe I'll cheat it a little if I have to." Surprisingly, I never did.
In retrospect, I think the context of the Charm encounters was a huge boon. The party really only confronted her twice: the first time at a dinner party and the second at a war council, where leaders from various factions met to discuss retaking the main city for the finale of the campaign. Neither were explicitly combat scenarios, and both times it would have looked pretty bad for the party if they just up and killed Charm for apparently no reason. The end result was I had villain with only eight hit points to her name run around and torment my level 16 party unpunished for several sessions. Let me tell you, as a DM, that felt amazing.
To add onto this as a player perspective, Charm was immediately positioned in such a way that, in the social and emotional dynamics of the roleplay, she was untouchable.
Charms first introduction was as the foreign dignitary of a far off nation who we knew had secret ties to the Church. We were at a mansion dinner party held partially in our honor - we were in part invited directly by the King, who we were favored by and wanted favor from. Charms plus 1 at the party was our party leaders sister - they were good friends. This was all true the second time she appeared at the war council, which was not only an expressly political appearance but also one where she represented the nation from which we were trying to secure military aid from.
It didn't matter at any point that we could have rolled a few dice for an attack roll and destroyed her. To destroy Charm of the six virtues, we had to murder, in cold blood, someone who was well liked, well connected, and well loved by some of the npcs closest to the party.
The only way we defeated her was because when we threatened her, subtly, she tipped her hand. Charm openly threatened the party leader's sister, who from then on no longer believed in her. We came to the bargaining table with her and convinced her (with no deception!) she could leave the battle march and be done with us. And when she got on her boat to leave, as it left port, our Bard (independently of anyone) snuck onto the ship, snuck into her room, and killed her in her sleep. The only kill that character ever got in the entire three year campaign.
It was an extremely well executed factor of the game because it was essentially a social encounter Boss fight. We had to construct and push and change the context of the situation until we could kill her without everything else crumbling around us - personal relationships as well as political ones.
I should add, Bard character *chose* not to kill anyone. She would willingly torment enemies and assist the party in combat, but never did any killing herself. She only killed Charm after everything had been resolved and Charm had effectively exited the campaign. She would have gotten away scot-free if Bard hadn't decided to take action. It was a great moment, and as a DM I couldn't have asked for a better character death
Here's what the fight with Tenacity (Constitution) looked like:
That little red bar at the top is her health. I don't show specific numbers, but I like having the health bar available for players to see so they have a general sense of how wounded the enemy is. I believe for this fight I started Tenacity at 999 HP out of a possible 20,000.
I greatly enjoyed watching my players realize what they were in for after they hit for 50+ damage on their first attack and saw the health bar get one pixel smaller.
Ferocity (Strength) was the most conventional of the Virtues, but context was everything. The players hadn't fought a Virtue yet, and were debating whether to defend some potential allies or lay low, only for the Paladin to slip away and confront Ferocity by himself. I was personally prepared to save the fight for later, but when a Paladin does something heroic and foolish you gotta let them have it.
I did not skimp on Ferocity's stat block either. She had a greatsword fashioned out of a massive hunk of stone that dealt bludgeoning damage and was much too heavy for anyone else to even lift. She could grab players and throw them across the map, resulting in fall damage from the distance thrown. She could chuck her sword at someone and leap to where it landed from a standing position. Paladin stood no chance by himself. The result was a mad dash to the join the fray while Paladin tried to hold out for as long as possible, with new party members arriving round after round to help. It was a very close fight, and my favorite combat of the whole campaign.
Incredibly, Monk found a way to disarm Ferocity after she threw her greatsword at him. He couldn't lift it of course, but he could use his new magic item to teleport away with it and hide it in a nearby river. Ferocity spent the rest of the combat leaping around the map to find it, allowing Barbarian to finish her off. Really ingenious play.
blakekathryn
titsay
theartofmadeline
discoholicmusic
pixelskylines
romaincrisis
amandla
