Discover Top Posts Tagged with #itylus

Tereus' Banquet (Tereus Confronted with the Head of his Son Itylus)

by Peter Paul Rubens

hiii first post on the new blog. i’ll try to upload some older stuff soon lol.

here is my latest troll who i hadn’t uploaded yet, itylus! pls enjoy <3

O sister, sister, thy first-begotten, The hands that cling and the feet that follow, The voice of the child's blood crying yet, WHO HATH REMEMBERED ME? WHO HATH FORGOTTEN? Thou hast forgotten, O summer swallow, But the world shall end when I forget.

Itylus by Algernon Charles Swinburne

#itylus #algernon charles swinburne #poetry

Tereus Confronted with the Head of his Son Itylus (detail) by Peter Paul Rubens, c. 1636-1638.

#Peter Paul Rubens #rubens #Tereus Confronted with the Head of his Son Itylus #classical mythology #mythology #art detail #art history #1600s #17th century #renaissance art #renaissance #renaissance artist #Itylus #Tereus

2022-03-07

You sit upon your throne and a hundred eyes are on you. Only, these eyes are all your own. Balls of energy hovering on angelic wings, their matter made solid through your extensive power. They trace every movement across your body, your fingers gripping their focus as if you wield a conductor’s baton. You adjust your dress away from your feet and lurch forward. Tension sets in as the eyes anticipate your next movements.

You rise from your seat and watch as they back away in a cascade, mimicking a ripple of water, with you in the middle. You are provided with ample space to move, but each patient eye is still watching, awaiting your telepathic commands that could come at any given moment. That’s how you made them, after all. Helpful and obedient. What is a queen without her servants, minions?

You take a step towards the balcony door, the eyes follow. Rather than trailing behind you, they continue in a formation of rings spanning all directions. You are the centre of their world, the celestial body, and must be protected from every angle. With their support, you are invulnerable to attack. Their vision is your own. It felt impossible for so long and took more sweeps than you were ever willing to count, but you eventually trained your brain to be capable of not only handling, but expertly wielding this all-encompassing vision that you bestowed upon yourself. Your psychic prowess gave you the power to evolve your brain, and now you can freely exist as a sensory being larger than the physical body you inhabit.

The eyes ahead of you can already see outside, and so your disappointment arrives early. You become aware that the weather is unpleasant, and stop before reaching the towering glass doors that would have taken you to your balcony of choice. A roiling storm has overtaken the horizon, the electrified grey mass slowly approaches your palace. You have no staff to warn, no livestock to shelter. You return to your throne and pull the eyes close to you. They lose their solid forms as you absorb the majority through the length of your dress, seeping up through the fabric like liquid and into your skin. Your veins flash a bright blue as each eye is returned to your body, their power ready to be repurposed. You prepare for the worst-case scenario in which your energy must be conserved for later on. This kind of storm feels familiar, reminding you of a time in which part of your home needed to be defended from the elements. You close your eyes, but sleep with four of them open. Three guard you while you sleep, while one hovers by the window, its wingbeats counting each field as the storm overshadows them in its wake.

Had the overwhelming urge to just WRITE something. Have a bit of a quick ramble about Itylus’s cool eyeball psionic things.

#itylus #itylus himera #writing

Laurels Are Poison

An imaginative retelling of the myth of #Itylus by #GladysMitchell in the form of a piece of #CrimeFiction #amreading

A review of Laurels are Poison by Gladys Mitchell Gladys Mitchell’s books are never an easy read, as she twists and contorts the conventions of the detective novel genre and there is a distinct feeling of satisfaction to be gained when getting to the end and still having a vague appreciation of what has gone on and how it all hangs together. Mitchell is never one to hide the arcana of her…