That unspoken promise of conversation took a while to actually happen, between being so busy with stabilizing Cloud Cuckooland and rounding up more Master Builders. It had become an all-out race, trying to collect their brethren and lead them to safety before Bad Cop found them and made sure they were never seen again. He was getting scarily efficient at it.
Unikitty’s home was surprisingly humble in design, though the pink and white and blue made it pretty obvious whose house it was. Benny had long since learned to stop being surprised by the foreign princess. He let himself in- her door was always open. “Unikitty?”
“Over here, Benny!” she chirped in response, and he followed her voice. She had the table set with some brightly colored desserts, of which he only recognized the macarons, and a pitcher of pink lemonade, because of course. He grinned. “Have a seat!” He dropped himself on one of the cushy stools. “How are you doing?”
“Pretty well, all things considered,” Benny answered. “So uh. What did you want to talk about?”
“You know, it’s incredibly rare that someone ‘just becomes’ a Master Builder.”
Benny smirked, lacing his fingers together and resting his hands on the table. “Wow, you don’t beat around the bush, do you?” She smiled sweetly back at him. “I have been very curious about that.”
“You don’t remember what happened?”
Benny glanced down at his hands. “None of us really remembers what happened, the cryostasis kinda messed with our memory. But mine’s the worst; I guess I suffered from oxygen deprivation for a bit before I managed to get into my own pod. And it’s not just that particular flight I’m missing, I’ve lost other things too. But I think I definitely would have remembered training to become a Master Builder. I mean, that’s not something that happens overnight, right?”
“In most cases, you would be right,” someone else answered, and Benny startled. He hadn’t heard anyone else come in.
“Vitruvius!” Unikitty cheered. “I’m so glad you could make it! Have a seat!” Benny frowned as the wizard meandered his way in their direction, before realizing the old man was blind.
“Oh,” Benny said, but before he could even think to offer to help, Vitruvius had found his way to a stool and sat down on it.
“Benny, this is Vitruvius! He’s one of the greatest Master Builders to ever live, and the most knowledgeable about Master Building and The Man Upstairs. He’ll be able to explain things better than I can.”
“You flatter me, Princess,” Vitruvius teased. “Benny. You must have so many questions.”
“Always,” Benny said, grinning. “Are you really the Vitruvius? The guy who stood up to Lord Business and tried to stop him from taking the Kragle? Alone? And made the prophecy about The Special?”
“That would be me,” the wizard replied in good humor. “Though it cost me the use of my eyes.”
“I’m sorry to hear about that…”
“Oh don’t be, it’s only a minor hindrance. I can still See plenty.”
Benny tilted his head at that, then shrugged. “So uh. How does someone like me happen?”
“Every so often, our world faces great peril. Some of the threats are obvious- like Lord Business and his plans for the Kragle- and some, only a very few ever know about. I suspect the latter may have been the case when you were chosen.”
“Chosen??”
“When our world is threatened, The Man Upstairs chooses a Champion to stop the evil that would destroy us. Sometimes that Champion is already a Master Builder, and sometimes the Champion becomes one upon being chosen.”
“…I was chosen…?”
“It’s the only explanation I can think of, for you to suddenly become a Master Builder.”
Benny curled in on himself. “I wish I could remember what happened.”
“Perhaps it’s best that you don’t, I can’t imagine such a burden would be pleasant to bear.”
“But- is that…” Benny looked down at his hands. “Am I not a ‘Champion’ anymore? Is that why all I can Build is spaceships, even after being a Master Builder for a couple years? I mean I love building spaceships, it’s my favorite thing in the world! But…”
“But everyone else says you’re not a real Master Builder because that’s all you Build?” Vitruvius guessed.
Benny shrugged. “Yeah.”
“I can’t say whether you’re still a Champion or not,” Vitruvius answered. “There is much about the nature of The Man Upstairs that’s beyond even me. But Champion or not, I believe He does still have a purpose for you. Don’t let the others discourage you, Benny, you belong here as much as any of them.”
The conversation turned to lighter topics after that, and after about an hour, Benny excused himself. He hated to seem rude, but that had been… quite a revelation Vitruvius had given him. That he was once a Champion…
Whoever The Special turned out to be, they would surely be the new Champion. Already, he felt a sort of protectiveness over them. Somehow he doubted it would be any of the Master Builders, no matter what the prophecy said. Not even Vitruvius’ star pupil. Their attitudes had improved since he went under, but really not by much. There was still a lot of arrogance among their numbers.
He left Cloud Cuckooland, needing some peace and quiet, and sat on its doorstep to think. Metalbeard was starting to get Ideas, about raiding Octan Tower and putting an end to Lord Business’ threat then and there. He was currently out seeking a new crew with which to do just that. Benny, on the other hand, had a bad feeling about it. Lord Business was sure to have many failsafes in place, for just such an event. The man was smart, really smart, to have taken over the world so thoroughly as he had. While Master Builders were hated and hunted, its other citizens believed he had brought peace and prosperity.
And honestly, he had, Benny noted, the few times he ventured out in disguise. The world had changed so much since he was last truly a part of it. There was little crime left at all, and most of that was the sort of vandalism to be expected of protesting Master Builders. People seemed to get along for the most part, there were no traffic accidents, no theft, no murder, no harassment, no rules against who you could love… To those inside the law, the world had become a utopia. Though it was honestly ridiculous, the price for coffee anymore. It wasn’t cheap to get it across the borders Business had built up around the realms.
The sun was setting, and that high up into the sky, he had an unimpeded view of the stars. Benny’s heart sank. How he wished he could be up among them again… His fingers itched with the need to Build.
He shook his head, snapping himself out of it before he headed back into Cloud Cuckooland in search of pieces for a spaceship that would never get finished anyway. Attempt #68 would have to wait; back to the topic on hand. He had to find some way to convince Metalbeard the raid was a bad idea. They could come up with countless plans, but Master Builders thought too outside the box. Lord Business would be ready for them. And that was why he thought- he hoped- that The Special wouldn’t be a Master Builder. Because that wasn’t what they needed.
Whoever that ‘lass or fellow’ turned out to be, Benny vowed that they would have at least his support.
if i were a famous person about to name my baby some made-up atrocious name i would instead name them something like Vitruvius so my child would be named after both a historical legend AND a character from the lego movie WIN-WIN !!!
fun fact: early this year a 2000-year-old basilica's remains were discovered in Fano, Rome, and was the first ever confirmed building by Vitruvius himself. the structure matches the description in his De Architectura (Book V), featuring a rectangular layout with massive columns !
what a cool thing to have witnessed during my lifetime !!! ^^ here are some photos of the site, a floor plan, and a rendering of the basilica:
Emmet tried not to look as despondent as he felt, as he sat listening to his father and Vitruvius speak with the foreign king and queen and their advisor, though he wasn’t really hearing a single word that was being said. It had been a rough week, starting the moment the Scalan royalty had arrived. Emmet had done his very best to be cordial toward them. They had simply looked him over, then promptly ignored him in favor of his father. Even the princess had barely murmured a hello, then hadn’t deigned to speak a word to him since despite all his efforts to try to talk to her. The whole purpose of their visit was to negotiate (and hopefully plan) a marriage between the two of them, surely it was a good idea to get to know each other at least a little beforehand?
Princess Lotte apparently didn’t think so. He’d given up at the look of thinly veiled disgust she had given him at dinner that first night, as she watched him piling all his favorite foods onto his plate. She had also looked displeased at the familiarity with which the retired Captain of the Royal Guard and his wife treated Emmet, especially as Ma leaned over to add another helping to Emmet’s plate before kissing his forehead. Emmet’s bright smile fell away once he realized the scrutiny he was under. He didn’t miss the disdainful looks the Scalan king and queen gave him (though he did miss the way his father’s eyes narrowed at them in turn), and had made a conscious effort since to not take so much for himself.
There was no way he was going to tell Ma and Pa to back off though, their open affection was perhaps the one thing getting him through this disaster in the making.
He’d tried voicing his concerns to his father, telling Sirius he didn’t understand the need for such an arrangement. Octan wasn’t at war with Scala, not even close. His father had mentioned something about the arrangement being made to strengthen their relations with the neighboring kingdom. After all, Octan was growing wealthy, and it couldn’t hurt to have a solid alliance with a nearby region in case someone got ideas. Emmet didn’t know why they couldn’t simply talk, and try to come to an understanding, but he didn’t argue. After all, his father was so smart, surely he knew what he was doing?
Finally he decided he’d had enough. He couldn’t sit and listen any longer as his future was arranged with a princess who clearly didn’t care a single wit about him. Slowly and silently, so as not to be noticed, he pushed himself away from the table and made his way out. He needed some space, to think, to breathe-
His stomach grumbled.
Sagging in defeat, he shuffled toward the kitchen, fully intent on gorging himself. Nothing he’d done the entire week seemed to win him any points, so what did it matter if he decided to drown his sorrows in sweets? Food had been a source of comfort for him since he was able to escape his caretakers and toddle his way to the pantry (although Pa sneaking him goodies between meals didn’t help matters). The kitchen was also the location of his best (though if he were honest with himself, his only) friend. Larry was one of the rare few employees in the palace that was close to Emmet’s age, and he made some of the best baked goods Emmet had ever tasted.
(He also made a mean cup of coffee, but that was rather beside the point.)
Larry barely crooked an eyebrow at Emmet’s sudden appearance, not even pausing his kneading. “Thought you were supposed to be in some meeting.”
Emmet sagged in defeat, even as he snatched an éclair and began to nibble on it. “I was,” he admitted. “But Princess Lotte only ever seems disgusted or annoyed with me no matter what I do, and Father won’t hear my concerns, and I couldn’t take having to listen to it all anymore, it feels like no one cares…”
Larry did pause at that. Emmet was the most recklessly cheerful and optimistic person he’d ever met; to hear him openly complaining… “It’s really that bad, huh?” Emmet gave a forlorn nod.
“And I had hoped… I was certain I was so close to being allowed to go with Uncle Keelan on one of his adventures, and then this…!”
Now Larry was really concerned. He’d never felt particularly close to the Prince; though Emmet honestly seemed to like him, for whatever reason, he’d always felt they were friends more out of convenience than anything. After all, it wasn’t like Emmet had many options. But he had never seen Emmet so depressed, and it actually managed to stir up some sympathy in his normally apathetic heart. He heaved a sigh and wiped his hands off on his apron. “You know what? Let’s go out for a bit, maybe some time away from the palace will do you some good.”
Emmet looked back up at him with surprise. “Are you sure that’s okay?”
Larry shrugged. “I’ve got several hours while this dough rises. Come on, let’s get you into something a little less ostentatious.”
The prince brightened considerably at that. “Oh! Thank you Larry, you’re the best!”
“Don’t mention it.”
It took them a while to find something that would fit Emmet. Though he and Larry were of a like height, the prince was a bit rounder in the middle (a testament to his love of food, and something that Rex, newly-promoted Captain of the Royal Guard, tried to train out of him with only mild success), so it took a bit of hunting, but they did eventually manage to find something clean and comfortable. Emmet seemed to like it well enough, so Larry counted it as a success and led him out beyond the palace walls and into Bricksport proper.
“Just stick close to me, I know this area pretty well.” The prince nodded dutifully. Sneaking out was blatantly Against The Rules, but there was something thrilling about that. Besides, it wasn’t like there was really anything to worry about in Bricksport, other than getting lost, and Larry would prevent that from happening. And this would be his chance to see the sights he didn’t get to see on his previous rare trips into the city.
They wandered aimlessly for several hours, stopping at every shop and street vendor they passed. He was quite in awe of some of the ‘common’ foods some of the vendors sold, and sampled as many different things as he could, and if anyone recognized him, none let the prince know that they knew. Finally, Larry announced it was time to return to the palace. He had breads and pastries to see to, after all.
“Alright,” Emmet sighed, doing his best not to pout in disappointment. He’d successfully not thought about his impending marriage and the princess he just couldn’t seem to please the entire time they’d been out, and now reality was crashing down around him again.
They had barely started back when a thunderous BOOM echoed through the city. “What was that?!” Emmet yelped, whipping around to find the source of the noise.
“That was cannon fire!”
“But why would anyone be firing a cannon-”
Larry paled when he caught sight of a black flag being flown, out on the bay. “Pirates,” he hissed, and grabbed Emmet’s arm. Almost as if in response to Larry’s haste, all hell broke loose. A near constant barrage of cannon fire started up, and people started screaming as pirates charged through the streets, ransacking the shops and taking whatever caught their fancy, and cutting down anyone that got in their way. “Hurry!” Larry urged, pulling Emmet along back toward the palace.
It was difficult to make any progress, though, with so many bodies pressing in around them also trying to get out of the pirates’ way. “Larry!” Emmet gasped as the baker’s grasp was jostled loose, and he was nearly lost in the crowd. As Larry fought to get through the crowd and back to his friend, someone else came up to the prince’s side. The stranger paused at the sight of him, and grinned.
“Well, what have we here? What might a little princeling be doing wandering the city all by his lonesome?” He laughed at his own joke. “Looks like fortune is smiling down on us today!”
Emmet stood frozen with shock, realizing he’d come face to face with one of the pirates. Of all the times to leave his sword behind…! He struggled as he was grabbed, but the pirate was soon joined by a crewmate, and Emmet knew he was no match for two, not unarmed as he was. He cast a panicked glance back at Larry, who seemed to steel his resolve and turned about, shoving his way through the crowd and toward the palace.
“Oh, so you were out with a buddy! Guess he decided you weren’t worth the trouble!” the pirate laughed. Emmet didn’t bother correcting them. Larry was going to get help, he just knew it. He didn’t bother to struggle as they bound his hands behind his back, keeping his chin up as they half-dragged him along back to the ship. One of the two sent up a flare to signal the rest of the crew just as the city guards made an appearance.
“Time to go,” the newcomer said, and they hurried Emmet along to the docks. His hopes began to sink as their ship came into view.
That was the Sea Cow, the ship of the infamous Captain Metalbeard. Perhaps rescue wouldn’t be as quick as he thought.
The word "machine" originates from the Latin word "machina," meaning "machine, engine, military machine; device, trick; instrument," which itself comes from the Greek word "μηχανή" (mēkhanḗ), meaning "device, tool, or contrivance." The Greek word is derived from the verb "μηχανάομαι" (mēkhan.omai), which means "to contrive, to devise." Also, the Greek word is related to "mekhos" (μῆχος), meaning "means," "expedient" or “remedy.” A broader meaning of 'fabric, structure' exists in classical Latin but not in Greek usage. This meaning is from the late medieval French and adopted from the French into English in the mid-16th century. One of the earliest known uses of the word "machine" in English dates back to the late 14th century when it referred to "a construction used to perform a particular action or operate in a particular way."
By 1540, the Word was used to refer to “structure of any kind,” a Doric variant of Attic mēkhanē "device, tool, machine;" also "contrivance, cunning," traditionally (Watkins) from PIE *magh-ana- "that which enables," from root *magh- "to be able, have power." The modern sense of a "device made of moving parts for applying mechanical power" (the 1670s) probably grew out of mid-17c. senses of "apparatus, appliance" and "military siege-tower." It gradually came to be applied to an apparatus that works without the strength or skill of the workman. (Machine | Etymology of Machine by Etymonline, n.d.)
The term "machina" (plural: machinae) appears several times in Vitruvius' De Architectura, referring to different types of machines or mechanical devices used in construction and engineering. One of the primary uses of machinae is in the context of lifting and moving heavy materials during construction. He discusses various types of cranes, hoists, and lifting devices that were used to raise and position large stones, columns, and other building components, as well as constructing siege engines and other military devices, describing various types of catapults, ballistae, and other machines used for launching projectiles during warfare. He discusses the use of machines for pumping water, such as the Archimedean screw (cochlea) and various types of water wheels and mills. He also mentions machines used in theaters and other public buildings for raising and lowering curtains, scenery, and other stage equipment. (Morgan & Warren, 1914)
In ancient Greek theatre, the term “deus ex machina” was named for the convention of the God’s appearing in the sky, an effect achieved by means of a crane (Greek: mēchanē). The dramatic device dates from the 5th century BC; a god appears in Sophocles’ Philoctetes and in most of the plays of Euripides to solve a crisis by divine intervention. (Deus Ex Machina | Definition, Examples, & Facts | Britannica, n.d.)
VITRUVIO - s. I a.C.
"El arquitecto tiene que estar impuesto en muchas ramas del saber y reunir conocimientos de muchos campos distintos, porque en su obra se contrastan el valor de las ciencias y las artes. Las fuentes de sus conocimientos son la práctica y la teoría"
Considero que la definición de Vitruvio, a pesar de ser la más antigua que conservamos, sigue siendo la más acertada. Me parece que la arquitectura no debe encasillarse únicamente como una ciencia o un arte; es, en realidad, la conjunción de ambas. Esta unión da lugar a una amplitud de campos que le otorgan un valor excepcional, enriquecido siempre por el equilibrio entre la práctica y la teoría.
