#historical headcanons

[agoodflyting]

You just know Crowley got swindled by Ea-Nasir at some point and now he's pissy every time that asshole starts trending online again.

[goldtracing]

On Nations and Love

This topic had to be addressed rather sooner than later, because what can be more human than to love? Hetalia is also a fandom of ships (really guys, I don’t think any other fandom has such intense shipping wars) so I’m here to throw in my two cents to this conversation, whether it is wanted or not.

As personifications that represent humans, I do see them wanting to be loved and love. The yearning for deep social connections is one of the most human things there is. Humans can’t survive being isolated and there is more than enough history to prove that.

Many in the fandom portray them as being capable of loving each other, of finding understanding and compassion in one of their peer. Many also depict them as being able to fall in love with humans and, considering the differing life spans, such relationships always ending up being tragic.

I see the whole thing a tiny bit different. As a principle, they can fall in love with each other. Each country has bouts where they are fascinated with another of their kind, indulging in the other’s culture and doing their best to foster a strong alliance. Yet such relationships tend to be very one-sided, with usually only one being imitated and lauded. Besides, this usually is solely infatuation, since none of them would sacrifice themselves for the other.

Their feeling for each other wax and wane in tandem to political shifts and their people’s preferences. Besides, they each abide to a different set of cultural values, so much so that their actions can sometimes be incomprehensible to their current partners. There are very few cases where they actually and fully understand each other. Some don’t even bother to try to understand the other.

And even if the partnership seems stable, there is always the underlying tone of danger, of something being threatening because it is foreign and different. Relationships don’t last and can easily turn into subjugation is they are not careful enough. As such, they can never really love another nation, at least not in how we understand the word love.

As for humans – there is the whole issue of them being mayflies. They are worlds apart no matter how close they are. Humans can’t ever really hope to comprehend the eldritch of what it means to be a nation. Nations can’t really share their problems that come with being a personification without automatically creating an unbridgeable gap between them and the human in question. In effect, as soon as they would reveal their true identity, the dynamics in the relationship would shift severely, probably going as far to permanently damage it.

They’d be viewed as mentors, authority figures or parental figures as best, as alien and monstrous at worst. Friendships between nations and humans would also be strained or at least altered this way, but never to the extent that romantic relationships would be fully functional. Maybe there would be the one or the other human that would be able and willing to look past the whole “national avatar” schick and see the individual and expect the individual, yet those humans would be few and far between.

Concluding – semi-immortal people made of mud and blood and ideas want to love and be loved. They just can’t get it because of politics and their fundamental paradoxical natures. (Don’t look at me, I’m here for the angst.)

[historical-fangirl]

Historical Headcanons- Katherine Plumber (Pulitzer)

I’ve recently been wanting to get back into the Newsies fandom, so here I am with more historical headcanons! Please note that although there are a lot of historical details about the Pulitzer family here, Katherine herself is a fictional character and so I have taken some liberties with the history.

Katherine was born on January 30th, 1881, in St. Louis, Missouri, to Joseph Pulitzer and his wife Kate Davis Pulitzer. She was their third child and second oldest daughter.

The Pulitzer family moved to New York City in 1883, when Katherine was only two years old, so she considers herself a born and bred New Yorker as she has no memories of living anywhere else.

Katherine grew up surrounded by luxury, but often spent more time with nurses and governesses than her own parents. Because of this, she became especially close to her older sister, Lucille, who was always there for her as they grew up together.

From the time she was 5 years old and her father took her to The World’s offices for the first time, Katherine knew she wanted to be a reporter. She constantly begged her father to take her with him when he went to work, and he often did, until she was about 12 and her mother forced her to stop going, saying it “wasn’t a suitable place for a young lady”.

After her mother banned her from the newsroom, Katherine began seriously writing articles, short stories, and poems. At first she wrote them in her journal, but after Lucille bought her a typewriter as a gift for her 14th birthday (much to their mother’s dismay) she began to write using that.

While their brothers went to boarding school in Massachusetts, Katherine, Lucille, and their two younger sisters were taught at home by a governess. Katherine grew bored of the repetitive lessons about the domestic arts, however, and begged her mother to be allowed to go to a real school. Her mother relented, and Katherine attended the Gardner School for Girls in the city starting from when she was 14 in 1895.

Katherine excelled in school, especially in writing, but when her sister Lucille died suddenly from typhoid fever in 1897, when she was 17 and Katherine 16, Katherine’s grades dropped as she struggled to cope with the loss. She eventually decided to withdraw from school.

After leaving school, Katherine was tempted to give up on her dream of being a reporter, but her older brother Ralph encouraged her to keep going and so she began to submit articles to newspapers under her new byline- Katherine Plumber.

Katherine was rejected from most of the newspapers she sent her writing to, to the point where she considered using a man’s name as her byline instead, but about a year before the strike in 1898 she received an offer to write an entertainment column for the New York Sun. She wasn’t thrilled with the idea at first, but figured she needed to start somewhere, and so she accepted the job.

Katherine’s mother was horrified when Katherine told her of her plans to write for a newspaper, especially since she had planned to hold Katherine’s “coming out” ball and present her to society soon, but to Katherine’s surprise her father convinced her mother to allow her to do it. He mostly thought it would be amusing to see her try and fail, but Katherine was determined to do well.

Other historical headcanons:

Jack Kelly (Newsies)

Davey Jacobs (Newsies)

Crutchie Morris (Newsies)

Donny Novitski (Bandstand)

[thyboredomhatharrivedth]

What are your thoughts on Ivan and Gil’s relationship? I know canon portrays them as disliking each other but it seems to me that history wise, they were close allies for a long period of time

Ooooooh okay okay this might be my favourite ask of any kind I’ve ever received so far-

Right, now. To start it off, at the very beginning, in the Late Middle Ages, when Russia was still a little kid, he most likely looked up to Prussia as this nation with growing power and a very strong personality and probably wanted to spend time with him. Prussia, at that time an arrogant bastard, could frankly not care less, this was just some kid and small nation to him, he had better things to care about. However, Lithuania changed Russia’s views on Prussia as fast as possible, and used the Baltic victory over the Teutons’ as proof that he was not so strong and special as he seemed.

The two remained neutral towards each other for a while, each building up their own country.

Things started getting interesting again in the 1700′s, specifically in the Seven Years War, when they ended up on opposing sides and were therefore, enemies. Prussia must have had a loathing for Russia when they took temporary control of Prussia throughout it, although I imagine Russia still treated him with respect and not as lesser.

After the Seven Years War was over, they found they have a common enemy, Napoleon. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, so goes the saying. Thus they created a short-lived alliance, and I think Prussia’s loathing for him died down during it into tolerance and even respect, while Russia’s opinions did not change from respect, except with perhaps an ounce of his old admiration and liking even after having defeated him earlier.

These opinions and views on one another remained for another while of neutrality towards each other... Until, of course, the Great War struck. They were enemies once more, though I do believe they did not have deep hatred for one another yet, they both had kingdoms that jumped from one alliance to another, they both knew it meant nothing in the end. They merely considered a war harsher than the rest, and there was dislike on both sides, but it was easy to fade.

But then came along the Second World War, where hatred was bound to run deep. Atrocities worse than that of WWI were committed, and Russia immediately lost all and any respect he had for Prussia. Prussia, on the other hand, could barely have any hate for the Allied powers when the war started to go south, to go from a regular conquering war for glory to a disaster. He couldn’t, because he himself hated this position his country had fallen into. Any atrocities that were returned by any of the Allied powers he felt were deserved, like karma. 

Then came turning East Germany, or otherwise Prussia, into a Soviet state. Now, by 1961, Russia’s initial fiery anger and hate had dulled down a bit, more into cool distaste. Prussia simply bore a mask of indifference to anyone, for that was how he felt half the time, empty. However, it did not take long for them to slowly start talking to one another normally, for Russia to understand Prussia himself hated how the war had turned out to be, for Prussia to eventually make his pleasant acquaintance. Over two decades is time long enough for it to happen.

I do believe that by the end of it in 1989, the two considered each other friends even, for what’s the point of being enemies and simply dulling down your life more? They’re both old enough to know there is none. 

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand I t h i n k I’m done this was long-

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Soulmate au idea? What if it was thought that countries couldn't get soulmates. But, one day, they do? Maybe its shown by both them and their soulmate sharing a 'tattoo' that randomly appears on their body, but in the countries case it's their flag? Axis plus romano and spain reaction to this?

[Hello, lovely! I apologize for the delay in this response. I’ve been doing a lot of research for this one; I took the liberty of using the symbols from the first “flag” each of their respective “nations” would have used; there shall be photos. Feel free to message me for any more information about the banners chosen. Thank you for this ask; I had a lot of fun working on this one. I hope you enjoy!]

Germany:

Ludwig first tried to approach the appearance of his soulmark logically.

There was no possible way that he had willingly sought out a tattoo, and there was no evidence of any nation ever having a soulmate.

But the proof was right there, the golden oak branch a bold imprint on his skin.

He dreaded telling anyone at first, worried that if he would allow his curiosity to distract him, it would pull him away from his work, keep him away from his responsibilities.

But as time went by, he started to do some digging, researching the lore behind former soulmates, finding more information into platonic and familial soulmates, learning everything he possibly could about the relationships people formed with one another.

Finally, he found himself turning to the Internet, joining several platforms who specialized in matching soulmates with one another, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, he would find you.

It would be nice to have someone to talk to, someone who he could confide in, someone who could perhaps understand him without having to say a word.The night he finally had an email claiming that you had been found had been one of the most nerve-wracking of his life, the first words he wrote to you deleted over-and-over again until, finally, he was able to send you a simple Hi.A huge step, but one that had proven over-and-over again to have been absolutely worth it.

Japan:

It took Kiku an embarrassingly long time to realize that there was a golden chrysanthemum etched into his shoulder. 

It wasn't until he had made a visit to his favourite bathhouse- only to be hurriedly chased back out- that he was even aware of its presence.

He spent several hours studying the new addition to his shoulder, desperately hoping that it was a prank from one of his siblings, praying that it was only temporary.

Eventually, he came to accept the truth, resigning himself to the knowledge that he now had his person out there, somewhere; he could only hope he could meet you soon.

Under normal circumstances, he would normally be really patient. But after nearly three years of waiting, he finally reached his limit, seeking out any spells from Arthur, Lukas, Vlad, and even Ivan in hopes that they could help him find you; his curiosity was killing him.

He was fascinated by the potential. 

Would you be wary about being bonded to an immortal? Did you recognize the mark that connected you? Did you melt at the knowledge that you had a soulmate out there, or were you one of the types who was repulsed by the very concept?

As he prepped the final pieces for his upcoming spellwork, he let his mind wander at the possibilities.

He knew, no matter what, that he would adore you.

He could only hope that you would like him, too.

Prussia:

To say Gilbert was shocked would be an understatement. 

Put more accurately, when he noticed a bold black eagle during his morning shower, he felt as if all the wind had been knocked out of him.

A soulmate?

No fucking way.

He wondered if the possibility came from his status; he had been dissolved for so long that maybe he had finally become human enough for these things.

Concern for his brother prompted him to keep it covered up; he had long ago accepted his eventual fate, but he couldn't risk hurting Luddy just yet.

He spent hours researching the mark, tracing over each line, daydreaming about the person who shared the same design.

You had to be something special to be stuck with him. Were you his complement and much-needed partner-in-crime? Would you be his foil?

He constantly thought about you- when walking the dogs, when writing, when wandering the wine aisle of the closest shop. Were you a dog person? Were you a writer? A bookworm? An artist? An athlete? Did you even like alcohol?

He wondered about all the intimate things- the colour of your toothbrush, the shape of your eyes, whether you were lactose-intolerant.

He had yet to even meet you, hadn't even a clue of who you were, where you were, but he was already dreaming of waking up each morning next to you.

All he could do was continue pondering the very thought of you, all-the-while plotting out the most foolproof approach to finding you.

Romano:

Lovino was immediate abject denial.

No way. 

Not possible.

Fuck that.

After how many centuries, the appearance of the golden fleur-de-lis on his hip was practically an insult, adding yet another layer of unnecessary drama to his already overly stressful life.

He had a hard enough time getting people to spend any time with him on a good day; the universe implying that there was someone out there who actually would want to stay-The gods may as well have spit in his face.

He knows his brothers would go on about how romantic it all was, would do everything in their power to find you, to set up the most elaborate date seen this millennium.

He decided to ignore his mark, opting instead to keep focusing on his work.

If, and that was a big if, there was actually someone out there who would love him irrevocably, then you would understand that his duties came first. He was tired of the world taking advantage of him; at least with his job, he could ensure that wouldn't happen ever again.

If you really cared about him, you would accept him for all his paranoia.

But there was no way anyone could care for him. 

Not like that.

When he first bumped into you, your notebooks and papers covering the entire table before you, eyes narrowed in concentration, groaning over an email, he had felt a flicker in his chest, an immediate camaraderie.

He had no idea at the time that the two of you had been fated to meet, that the overwhelming urge to treat you to a coffee or a gelato was destiny.

It would be slow-going, and there would be many bumps on the road ahead, but you two would learn to love each other, years before either of you thought about the twin fleurs-de-lis embellishing your hips.

Spain:

Antonio was, simply put, ecstatic. 

He had helped quite a few of his citizens find their soulmates over the centuries, and he never grew tired of helping them overcome whatever obstacles may try to prevent their relationships. Knowing that there was now someone out there for him, wearing his mark, sharing the same beautiful earth and the same moon-

He couldn't have been happier.

He didn't need to know you yet; he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he would love you the moment he saw you, that you were going to be one of the greatest people- if not the greatest person- to ever share a portion of his long life.

He carried on with his life, fully aware that destiny was never something that one rushes; you would meet one another when the time was right.

He couldn't have been more correct in that end.

You and Toni had been friends for several months before the subject of soulmates had even come up, your mark hidden away beneath layers of clothing due to its unfortunate location. 

He was curious; you never really spoke of a desire to meet your intended, content in the life you already had. 

Deciding to address his inquiry, you did your best to describe the golden castle on your thigh, lingering on the shaping of the blue windows that nearly seemed to float above the tattoo.

As you kept going, you were oblivious to the delight of your companion, oblivious to his relief, oblivious to his gratitude.

He had been hoping it was you.

Veneziano:

At first, Feliciano would be wary. 

Finding an unexpected golden blemish taking shape on his skin- a sign of a soulmate!- would give him such unwelcome anxiety. 

What if you were expecting more than him? What if you were someone who could never accept him? What if you were- 

So many worries, so many concerns, and each and every one of them revolved around his own faults, around his own fears that he would never be able to give you what you deserve. 

He was immortal, and if you chose to stay with him-

There was a very real chance that you could still leave him, that you may one day choose to leave him.

He dreaded that hypothetical, the day perhaps even decades away when you would-

When you would-

He dreaded most things. 

There was also the very likely possibility that you would never even meet. 

With nearly 8 billion people scattered across the globe, many of whom never leaving their own regions-

He could only hope that you would be curious enough, affluent enough, dedicated enough-

But even with the distinctive image of his first banner as your clue, there was a huge possibility that you would never figure out exactly what it meant, where-

Upon meeting you for the first time, shimmering golden lion proudly on display as you snapped photos of the setting sun, all of his concerns drifted away with the tide. 

You were absolutely at peace with your surroundings, the salty air ruffling your jacket as you continued wandering the canals.

It was clear that you had conducted enough research to pinpoint his general location, seeking out the oldest corners, exploring the most overlooked crevices; while he could have followed you all day, it was only fair and noble that he made the effort of approaching you, of getting to know you.

And one day, he would summon his courage and offer you everything.

But first-

With that first resolute step, he was already growing into a better man. 

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

Okay, so I've seen a lot of people joke that some of Shakespeare's plays— most commonly Romeo and Juliet— might have been based on/inspired by Aziraphale and Crowley.

And… I'm not saying that that's a bad take, just that I've been reading some of his sonnets today and, quite frankly, we're missing a trick here. (The footnotes are in the second photo and both are taken from the Norton Anthology).

[tiyetiye]

The Last Kingdom - Salem Witch Trials AU

For @pokeasleepingsmaug. Also tagging @ceridwenofwales, @hvitserksgirl, @burntmythroatskullingmytea, and @ivarinleatherpants​

It’s 1692 in a small town carved out of the wilderness a day’s ride from Salem, Massachusetts. 

Alfred is the town’s minister, a fiery Puritan who preaches a weekly sermon filled with fire and brimstone, warning the town’s residents against the dangers of sin, Satan’s tricks, and the evils of witchcraft. 

His wife Eahlswith is a powerful woman and a force to be reckoned with in her own right, some saying that her religious fervor might be more powerful than her husband’s. Often any “misbehavior” she might spot during the course of the week will become the topic of Alfred’s Sunday sermon. 

Hild, born in England, is the daughter of an English minister. She married young, but lost her husband early in their marriage when he was killed during William and Mary’s invasion of England. She never remarried, feeling instead that she had been called to a higher purpose by God and drawn to a new life in America. Now she runs a small inn in town, serving travelers on the road too and from Salem, and occasionally allows Alfred access to her personal library of her father’s old religious texts when he needs to do a bit of theological research for that week’s sermon. 

Father Beocca is a wandering preacher who comes to town often, usually staying at Hild’s inn when he does. The two of them get along like a house on fire, and Hild never lets him pay for his stays, so he always pays her back in some way by chopping wood, mucking out her small stable, or helping out in her kitchen. 

Uhtred and his wife Gisela live on a large farm on the outskirts of town with their children and hired help. 

Uhtred’s separated from his first wife while he was still living in in England after the death of their first child. She turned to the church in her grief, while he chose to leave everything behind and start a new life in the New World, specifically Canada, which is where he met Iseult, the daughter of a wealthy French-Canadian family. 

Uhtred and Iseult lived together happily for a short while, the two of them carving a small farm out of the forest and Uhtred making a bit of extra money by hunting and trapping and trading with the natives. 

One day, Uhtred came home from a week-long hunting trip to find that Iseult had been killed while he was away, attacked by a bear and torn apart. He carried her inside their cabin, placed her on their bed, piled firewood and brush all around her, set the building on fire, and headed south. He walked for weeks, hunting and foraging along the way, until he came to the Massachusetts Bay Colony, where he met Finan. 

Or rather, was physically thrown on top of Finan. Arrested for drunkenly starting a fight in a bar, Uhtred was thrown into jail to sleep it off for the night, only to find that Finan was already there for the same reason. The two men bond during the night, and upon the revelation that Uhtred has been wandering through the wilderness with no destination in mind, Finan invites him to join him in a small town near Salem, where some friends of his has already staked a claim of land and begun to construct a cabin. Having nothing better to do, Uhtred agrees. 

Finan’s friends in question are Clapa, a great Russian giant of a man, and Halig, a former indentured servant who came to America through New Amsterdam and has now earned his freedom. They all first set up as hunters and trappers, and barter for everything else they need. Finan also brews a whisky strong enough to make the devil weep, which he secretly sells in town, making them a little extra money on the side. Clapa says it’s “not bad, for an Irishman,” and even Hild has been known to have the occasional glass. 

The boys quickly make a life for themselves on the edge of the wood, hunting and trapping, expanding their tiny crop fields, developing good trading relations with the local tribes, expanding their original one-room cabin, and growing modestly wealthy. Halig is the only one with any real talent for farming, Uhtred and Finan are excellent hunters, and for such a huge man Clapa is one of the best fishermen any of them have ever seen. 

Hild immediately takes a shine to the boys, after Finan was able to debate her to a standstill over a point of Scripture one afternoon when the boys had come into town to visit the marketplace, and will occasionally join the boys for dinner at their home after church on Sundays. 

About a year or two after the boys had come to town, in late spring, they started to notice that their stores of food were running low unusually quickly. It wasn’t late enough in the year yet for them to be able to harvest anything, so they were still relying on the last of their winter supplies plus whatever they could catch for food, so anything going missing was a problem that could not be allowed to continue. After confirming that no one was taking anything extra to trade or to sell for some reason, it was official - they had a thief on their hands. The boys took it in turns to keep watch on their storehouse night after night, for almost a week with no success - every morning the rest of the gang would wake up to find more of their stores gone. That Sunday, Hild came over for the poor excuse of a Sunday dinner they could scrape together, and once it was finished, Uhtred was seeing her out when they heard a noise coming from inside their barn. Inside they discovered a skinny, starved-looking young man - Sihtric. He tried to run, but Uhtred caught him, and Hild made him listen when the young man begged their forgiveness.  

Thanks to Hild’s intervention, Sihtric is given a blanket in front of the fire and all the porridge he can eat, and over the next few weeks as he’s put to work alongside Uhtred and the other men he tells them his story. His mother was a Dutch farmer’s daughter named Elfaed, living with her family outside of New Amsterdam, who was kidnapped and forcibly married as a teenager by a French fur trapper named Kjartan. Sihtric grew up feeling nothing but his father’s abuse and seeing its effects on his mother. Kjartan’s rages grew worse and worse as Sihtric grew older until the previous autumn things finally reached a breaking point. Kjartan accused Elflaed of trying to poison his food, of stealing money from him, and plotting to take Sihtric and run back to her family. He hit her, telling her that he was going to beat her to death and then feed her to his dogs, with Sihtric to be the next to die. Sihric tried to fight him off and save his mother, but when Kjartan drew his pistol Elflaed told him to run. He heard his mother’s final scream as he took of blindly through the trees, not knowing where he was going, just running away. He survived for months by himself, all through the winter, living alone in the woods. He stole food from farms and towns when he could, otherwise he made do with what he could forage for in the woods. 

One day the men all go out fishing together and are delighted to find that Sihtric is a damn natural at tickling trout. Every 10 minutes or so he would manage to snag another one and toss it up onto the bank, while Finan and Clapa grumbled to themselves about cheating. 

As time goes by, the men start to attract some unfavorable notice from the powerful people in town. There’s plenty of other instances of bachelors living together, but why are they always late to church? Why did they chose to live so far away? What are they really doing out there? Plotting something with the natives? After all, they’re all foreigners - could any of them really be trusted?

After a bit of warning from Hild, and the offer of help from Sihtric, the men decide to take their next load of pelts and sell them in New Amsterdam instead of locally in town. Sihtric knows the way and can guide them and it will give the gossip in town the opportunity to die down while they’re gone. 

The boys make a killing selling their furs while they’re in town, and while they’re out celebrating Uhtred catches meets Gisela, daughter of a powerful local merchant family, and the two fall instantly in love. Her brother refuses to give his blessing after Uhtred asks her to marry him, so the two of them elope, and Gisela comes back to Massachusetts with Uhtred as his wife. 

While Gisla’s family might have been wealthy, she spent plenty of time with her grandmother as a child, and picked up enough knowledge and skills to be an above-average cook and to be able to whip up a few folk remedies. This comes in handy more than once when the boys are sick or injured, and she’ll occasionally take her remedies into town as well when asked. The boys are still viewed with a bit of suspicion, so Gisela likes to feel like she’s helping out the family by winning them a bit of goodwill. 

It all goes wrong when Gisela brings a remedy to a sick friend of Eahlswith’s living in town. The remedy doesn’t work, and Eahlswith’s friend dies, so she accuses Eahlswith of witchcraft and of poisoning her friend. Alfred has her arrested and thrown in jail, and when Uhtred comes to town with the other boys in tow, ready to kick some doors in and rescue his wife, Alfred tells him that he will spare Gisela’s life and see that no harm comes to her, if he and the other boys will just do him “a few favors” and take care of some problems that have been plaguing him. Problems that Alfred himself can’t be seen to be involved in.  

Alfred is true to his word, and when the boys return they find that Gisela has been kept safe. She’s released and declared to be innocent of all witchcraft and wrong doing, but Uhtred isn’t off the hook yet. Alfred warns him that if he puts another toe out of line or refuses to follow orders, Gisela and his entire family will be arrested for witchcraft and face the stake. 

[ciceroprofacto]

Thought of something interesting in John Laurens’s 15 Nov. 1774 letter to Henry from a Carolina Coffee House. This is the same letter wherein John recounts his encounter with Egerton Leigh but I wanna focus on this little nugget:

“I congratulate my Country upon the additional strength it has  received by your Arrival, and wish in the words of Agamemnon  to Nestor, that it had been ten other such Councilors as you”

I find it ironic that he likens his father to Nestor.

In the Iliad, Nestor is the oldest of the Achaians, and while he’s highly-respected among the Greeks for his age, wisdom and good council, he plays a comedic role at times by telling rambling stories about his own heroic exploits in his younger days that embody the ideals he’s trying to instill in the younger heroes- particularly Achilles. He uses stories of the past and ideals of the present to get through to stubborn leaders, make order from disorder, and to soothe wounded egos. He fails to get through to Achilles, but he gets through to Patroclus. Nestor is the character that essentially tells the story of other heroes- and carries on their memory.

I’m not sure if John was just flattering his father with a classics reference or slyly calling him old and making a jab at his moralistic parables, but the illusion is ironically fitting and I love it.