Diagram of a lion
Sangatsu No Lion (March Comes in Like a Lion) by Chica Umino
2014.11.18 07:26 Nalotaib Sangatsu No Lion (March Comes in Like a Lion) by Chica Umino
This is a subreddit to talk about the manga called Sangatsu No Lion (March Comes in Like a Lion) by Chica Umino, creator of the critically acclaimed manga 'Honey and Clover'.
2012.11.21 19:40 DanezTHEManez Huzzah!
opposite of /BritishProblems
2012.10.07 05:03 phronimos Seals, sea lions & walruses
Anything and everything related to seals, sea lions and walruses
2024.05.09 19:00 the_jaw A colorful intro to Gnosticism
Hopefully this guide can serve as an exciting primer for people who know nothing about Gnosticism, but it's meant to delight and entertain even those who already gnow. I wrote it as the opener for an upcoming Gnostic novella, a malicious post-Sethian fantasia coming out in June.
*
Everyone has a body, a soul, and a spirit. The body rots and the soul kills itself, but the spirit is particular, peculiar, special. The spirit is the yolk in our self’s egg. It is the reality amid this dream. It is our vivifying cosmic light, holy and normally immortal, and in fact did not originate in our puny human selves but was borrowed from God and trapped inside our body’s prison, our soul’s hole. Yet our spicule of divine light is not safe. If we don’t arrange its heavenly escape through gnosis—that is, through secret knowledge of spiritual mysteries—then when we die, we vanish forever, our sharp sparks of holy spirit pulled down guttering into oblivion along with the material that cages us.
Or so an ancient Gnostic might have explained to a willing Catholic, circa 250 CE. A few midnight meetings later, he might let slip that the Trinity is slightly more extended than certain naïve believers imagine, and that our bodies are patterned on the Cosmic Man. I imagine his eyes flicking from side to side, before he unwraps a bundle of scrolls, pushing aside The Archangelic Book of Moses the Prophet in favor of a painstakingly detailed diagram illustrating the 365 angels of the solar year and their one-to-one correspondence to the parts of the human body—and incidentally, he says, did you know that there is a soul of hair, a soul of bone, a soul of skin? A psychical body that overlies our physical body? He’s started smiling, slowly putting down his inhibitions, for the Catholic has been plying him with date wine, and anyway the Gnostic is just so relieved to have found a friend, a fellow traveler fascinated in secret knowledge, in true salvation, in escaping their hostile world… Unfortunately, the brotherly-faced Catholic is planning to denounce him first thing tomorrow, and his valuable scrolls will be destroyed, and on some level the Gnostic senses it and ends up nearly whispering his secrets, implicitly pleading. Adam was androgynous, you see. The Holy Spirit is the Triple Male. Material is evil. Material is the portion of corruption nailed to our spirits. Like a satanic Jesus of darkness it suffers from our purity. We have been fettered with forgetfulness and deafened by death. Also: maybe not everyone has spirit. Only some do; the other humans are just creations. And as for the fellow called God, well he uh. Has a few dark secrets... “Oh, don’t look so uptight,” the Gnostic might say, anxiously chuckling: “Remember, I’m a Christian too!”
And he’d be right. Back in his day, the Church hadn’t entirely cornered power, clamped down on all other doctrines, and crushed the mindbending diversity of early Christianities in the Wild Wild Near-East. All around our Gnostic, there fumed and flowered a largely unpruned, rampant garden of sects and types and lifestyles, whose swarms of heaven-hunting believers spread out into hundreds of groups, used dozens of gospels, and disagreed on the most basic elements of doctrine, their beliefs resembling one another yet differing like the dialects of a diverging spiritual language. Within this ferment already shadowed by the upraised boot of the Church, the groups we refer to as the Christian Gnostics—actually Sethians, Valentinians, Thomasites, Cainites, Ophites, Carpocratians, Borborites, and many others—merely represented particularly spicy and syncretic Christians, a sort of semi-exclusive and avant-garde R&D tendency, their adepts intent on hidden knowledge, personal enlightenment, and the occasional rapturous ascent. Many believed in Jesuses, in an unfolded Trinity, in a higher baptism… it’s just that they also happened to mistrust the Abrahamic God and his world; to differ on the meaning and status of Jesus; to draw ideas from Platonism, Neopythagoreanism, Zoroastrianism, and possibly their dreams; and to ground salvation not in the problem of sin but on the pursuit of gnosis, their writers regularly soaring into metaphysical flights of rhetoric that portrayed our world as a cosmic mirage, an intoxicating nightmare from which the inspirited seeker must only awake.
Against such mystics, the Church had every advantage. It had party loyalty, centralized discipline, and a soberer, slightly more realist Christianity, with a message aimed at everyone and not just the self-selected few. It had simplicity, organization, and ruthlessness, grace and very sharp knives. The Church Fathers would put the Gnostics to great use, in part defining their own orthodoxy through the expulsion of Gnosticism, and the destruction of its texts… which is a shame, for many eccentric, beautiful, unique and surprising ideas must have disappeared forever into graves and clerical fires. Before the Church’s iron gate whanged shut and the flames ignited, the Gnostics were carting around wheelbarrowfuls of secret books, glittery kaleidoscopic treasuries of scripture—treatises, cosmogonies, incantations, prophecies, apocalypses, some of which were masterpieces of mystical rhetoric, offered original answers to notorious theological conundrums, or upended mainstream Abrahamic stories and embroidered them with conceptual rhinestones. Flip through the fraction of texts that’ve survived—scriptures like The Tripartite Tractate, The Secret Book of John, The Holy Book of the Great Invisible Spirit, Eugnostos the Blessed, Pistis Sophia, or The Gospel of Judas—and you’ll meet the female Holy Spirit, Judas as a double agent working for the side in white, the snake in Eden as a hero bringing the gift of enlightenment, and Jesus as the Word laughing on the cross because his real body, his spiritual body, is uncrucifiable. You’ll hear the cross itself speak. You’ll be treated to ritual glossolalia and cryptic hints at a baptism called the Five Seals. You’ll read prayers for secret power, lyrical visions of cosmic churches, of the abolition of illusion and the death of death, of how Error, with power and in beauty, made a substitute for Truth. You will be told that humans ate of two trees, the Tree of Enlightened Insight, and the Tree of Life, which cursed our spirits to forget eternity: now we “have been bound with dimensions, times, and seasons, and fate is master of all.”
But the most audacious and churchshaking of all Gnostic myths—the myths that brought the Church Fathers’ meteors down upon their heads, the myths that finally sent our hypothetical Catholic shouting into the cold desert night, cursing our Gnostic to the Devil—have survived in great detail and in many forms. I alluded to these already: I mean the shocking creation stories which claimed that the Jews and Christians had all the details upside-down, backward and darkly, that the Abrahamic God was not what naïve Abrahamites believed, that Genesis told only half the story, and that the Question of Evil, that perennial puzzler and atheist-maker, had the simplest answer imaginable.
See, many Gnostics split the Abrahamic God in two.
They had an upper God of unmitigated goodness, the great invisible spirit, the transcendent Middle Platonic God, the God of Jesus and of Paul, you know him: he’s the ineffable, unknowable, taciturn and enigmatic Father of Justice, to be kneeled under with utmost humility. This omnipotent self-originator was the first maker and the source of all spirit, and he created through thought, forming ideas which solidified into autonomous beings. First he emanated the rest of the Trinity—at least in some texts—but then he branched like a cosmic river into a flowing family tree of divine attributes, emanations both separate and a part of him, plural and one, grooving interlocked in a higher-dimensional bliss of mutual adoration. This perfect Father—especially in the myths of Jewish Gnostics called Sethians—had no direct role in the creation of evil or our world, and bore absolutely no responsibility for our suffering.
No, evil and our world only appeared when the youngest emanation, called Wisdom, or Sophia, struck out on her own and committed a catastrophic spiritual crime. The nature of the crime varies from text to text, but usually she attempted to create by herself, without her partner, or to comprehend the upper God—either way, she violated the cosmic order, acting in presumption and deficiency, out of unspeakable pride. And from her pride was born a monster.
This was the lower God, an evil deity called Yaldabaoth or the Demiurge, a mid-powered craftsman-God adopted from Platonism but mutated by Sethians into an insecure, fucked-up loser. This cack-handed cretin woke up alone in darkness, concluded that he had made himself, and then—since he was ultimately a cracked mirror of the great invisible creator—set about slapping our unreal world together, making it from shadows and dreams and other spare illusions. As he worked, he unconsciously copied heavenly forms and hierarchies… and did a terrible job. He might have been evil, he might have created a million styles of suffering, but Yaldabaoth was not at all a Christian Satan, not some diabolically intelligent heavy-metal pain-lord looming over his earthly hellscape; no, this moody, jealous punisher, this embodied sacrifice-sniffer, this amateurish meddler roving up and down and flinging lightning bolts at his own people, demanding ceaseless slaughter and sacrifice, was the God of the Old Testament, revealed not just as a murderous jerk but as a dumb, talentless hack, his mediocre world like a child’s drawing blotched with red-crayon scribbles of blood, a moldy, stinking parody of all goodness and worth.
Worse, Yaldabaoth suffered under his own inferiority and lashed out when he felt challenged. When we humans threatened to surpass him by enlightened insight, he shackled us to fate and locked us into death, so that we would forget our greatness which made him feel so subpar. Imagine: billions of people have died in the mostly ghastly conceivable ways, all because our gnosis wounded his ego. A petty tyrant writ cosmically large, he would have been pathetic, even pitiable, if he weren’t the showrunner of our lives, the petulant orchestrator of all pain, bitchily yanking at the puppet strings of the theater of torture that we think of as our world—that colossal junkyard of illusions where people reel around confused by death, dazzled by materiality, blinded by the daily phantasmagoria of horrors, having abandoned their inner wells of living light, though their flesh-buried sparks of spirit are ever tantalized by the rapturous fragrance of the All, though their darkened minds always sense on some level that they do not belong here, that it is possible to wake up from this nightmare, that reality is not real, existence does not exist, and to be is not to be.
We must picture our early Catholic, in the moments before his noisy flight, staring with nauseated horror at the Gnostic. That bloodhound of enlightenment hasn’t looked up in a while, retelling his creation story with awe and trembling, mesmerized and moved all over again by this heady doctrine which contains the solution to his suffering, the explanation for his pain, for his fears and feelings about the world, about being watched, toyed with, persecuted, about being misled and betrayed and hated, about truth being concealed and difficult to find, about the somnolence of the masses. The demonic pains in his gut, the death of his infant daughter, the idiots in charge everywhere at all times, the staggeringly high victory-rate of the forces of darkness, the godawful, unforgivable suffering of innocents—all this finally made sense. Our Gnostic found an elegant answer to the Question of Evil, and had the Churchites been able to bear it, they might have saved themselves millennia of defensive oratory on the perennially red-eyed and heart-rending question of why innocents suffer. Ask the Catholic why a good God made evil, and you’ll get that familiar rigmarole about how we are granted free will in order to be tested, to sort good from evil and place our salvation in our own hands; ask a darkened luminary like Dostoevsky, if you want to be informed that we need to suffer to be able to choose Jesus, and if necessary the poor must starve and die. All those blameless children who get beaten, diddled, napalmed? They’re collateral damage in the great sorting of souls, victim of someone else’s wrong choice, destroyed by a design some call intelligent. But why, precisely, did a good God have to make evil? Why cancer, why brain parasites? Why boil us in the tar pit of time? The Gnostic shrugs sadly, expansively, with thick maroon smudges under his eyes, and, idly rotating a lamp he’s staring into, with little lights dancing in his pupils, reveals the truest thing he knows: that innocents bleed, the rapacious rule, and our lives are carnage incarnated, because our world is a psychotic prison made from pride and pain, a ceaseless cycle of suffering dreamed down by a colossal lion-headed wanker. Our world was created by a counterfeit, a ravener and a ravisher, a violent and childish dumb-ass, and we may confirm the bad news with this insight from the Gospel of Phillip:
“God is a man-eater, and so humans are sacrificed to him.”
submitted by the_jaw to Gnostic [link] [comments]
*
Everyone has a body, a soul, and a spirit. The body rots and the soul kills itself, but the spirit is particular, peculiar, special. The spirit is the yolk in our self’s egg. It is the reality amid this dream. It is our vivifying cosmic light, holy and normally immortal, and in fact did not originate in our puny human selves but was borrowed from God and trapped inside our body’s prison, our soul’s hole. Yet our spicule of divine light is not safe. If we don’t arrange its heavenly escape through gnosis—that is, through secret knowledge of spiritual mysteries—then when we die, we vanish forever, our sharp sparks of holy spirit pulled down guttering into oblivion along with the material that cages us.
Or so an ancient Gnostic might have explained to a willing Catholic, circa 250 CE. A few midnight meetings later, he might let slip that the Trinity is slightly more extended than certain naïve believers imagine, and that our bodies are patterned on the Cosmic Man. I imagine his eyes flicking from side to side, before he unwraps a bundle of scrolls, pushing aside The Archangelic Book of Moses the Prophet in favor of a painstakingly detailed diagram illustrating the 365 angels of the solar year and their one-to-one correspondence to the parts of the human body—and incidentally, he says, did you know that there is a soul of hair, a soul of bone, a soul of skin? A psychical body that overlies our physical body? He’s started smiling, slowly putting down his inhibitions, for the Catholic has been plying him with date wine, and anyway the Gnostic is just so relieved to have found a friend, a fellow traveler fascinated in secret knowledge, in true salvation, in escaping their hostile world… Unfortunately, the brotherly-faced Catholic is planning to denounce him first thing tomorrow, and his valuable scrolls will be destroyed, and on some level the Gnostic senses it and ends up nearly whispering his secrets, implicitly pleading. Adam was androgynous, you see. The Holy Spirit is the Triple Male. Material is evil. Material is the portion of corruption nailed to our spirits. Like a satanic Jesus of darkness it suffers from our purity. We have been fettered with forgetfulness and deafened by death. Also: maybe not everyone has spirit. Only some do; the other humans are just creations. And as for the fellow called God, well he uh. Has a few dark secrets... “Oh, don’t look so uptight,” the Gnostic might say, anxiously chuckling: “Remember, I’m a Christian too!”
And he’d be right. Back in his day, the Church hadn’t entirely cornered power, clamped down on all other doctrines, and crushed the mindbending diversity of early Christianities in the Wild Wild Near-East. All around our Gnostic, there fumed and flowered a largely unpruned, rampant garden of sects and types and lifestyles, whose swarms of heaven-hunting believers spread out into hundreds of groups, used dozens of gospels, and disagreed on the most basic elements of doctrine, their beliefs resembling one another yet differing like the dialects of a diverging spiritual language. Within this ferment already shadowed by the upraised boot of the Church, the groups we refer to as the Christian Gnostics—actually Sethians, Valentinians, Thomasites, Cainites, Ophites, Carpocratians, Borborites, and many others—merely represented particularly spicy and syncretic Christians, a sort of semi-exclusive and avant-garde R&D tendency, their adepts intent on hidden knowledge, personal enlightenment, and the occasional rapturous ascent. Many believed in Jesuses, in an unfolded Trinity, in a higher baptism… it’s just that they also happened to mistrust the Abrahamic God and his world; to differ on the meaning and status of Jesus; to draw ideas from Platonism, Neopythagoreanism, Zoroastrianism, and possibly their dreams; and to ground salvation not in the problem of sin but on the pursuit of gnosis, their writers regularly soaring into metaphysical flights of rhetoric that portrayed our world as a cosmic mirage, an intoxicating nightmare from which the inspirited seeker must only awake.
Against such mystics, the Church had every advantage. It had party loyalty, centralized discipline, and a soberer, slightly more realist Christianity, with a message aimed at everyone and not just the self-selected few. It had simplicity, organization, and ruthlessness, grace and very sharp knives. The Church Fathers would put the Gnostics to great use, in part defining their own orthodoxy through the expulsion of Gnosticism, and the destruction of its texts… which is a shame, for many eccentric, beautiful, unique and surprising ideas must have disappeared forever into graves and clerical fires. Before the Church’s iron gate whanged shut and the flames ignited, the Gnostics were carting around wheelbarrowfuls of secret books, glittery kaleidoscopic treasuries of scripture—treatises, cosmogonies, incantations, prophecies, apocalypses, some of which were masterpieces of mystical rhetoric, offered original answers to notorious theological conundrums, or upended mainstream Abrahamic stories and embroidered them with conceptual rhinestones. Flip through the fraction of texts that’ve survived—scriptures like The Tripartite Tractate, The Secret Book of John, The Holy Book of the Great Invisible Spirit, Eugnostos the Blessed, Pistis Sophia, or The Gospel of Judas—and you’ll meet the female Holy Spirit, Judas as a double agent working for the side in white, the snake in Eden as a hero bringing the gift of enlightenment, and Jesus as the Word laughing on the cross because his real body, his spiritual body, is uncrucifiable. You’ll hear the cross itself speak. You’ll be treated to ritual glossolalia and cryptic hints at a baptism called the Five Seals. You’ll read prayers for secret power, lyrical visions of cosmic churches, of the abolition of illusion and the death of death, of how Error, with power and in beauty, made a substitute for Truth. You will be told that humans ate of two trees, the Tree of Enlightened Insight, and the Tree of Life, which cursed our spirits to forget eternity: now we “have been bound with dimensions, times, and seasons, and fate is master of all.”
But the most audacious and churchshaking of all Gnostic myths—the myths that brought the Church Fathers’ meteors down upon their heads, the myths that finally sent our hypothetical Catholic shouting into the cold desert night, cursing our Gnostic to the Devil—have survived in great detail and in many forms. I alluded to these already: I mean the shocking creation stories which claimed that the Jews and Christians had all the details upside-down, backward and darkly, that the Abrahamic God was not what naïve Abrahamites believed, that Genesis told only half the story, and that the Question of Evil, that perennial puzzler and atheist-maker, had the simplest answer imaginable.
See, many Gnostics split the Abrahamic God in two.
They had an upper God of unmitigated goodness, the great invisible spirit, the transcendent Middle Platonic God, the God of Jesus and of Paul, you know him: he’s the ineffable, unknowable, taciturn and enigmatic Father of Justice, to be kneeled under with utmost humility. This omnipotent self-originator was the first maker and the source of all spirit, and he created through thought, forming ideas which solidified into autonomous beings. First he emanated the rest of the Trinity—at least in some texts—but then he branched like a cosmic river into a flowing family tree of divine attributes, emanations both separate and a part of him, plural and one, grooving interlocked in a higher-dimensional bliss of mutual adoration. This perfect Father—especially in the myths of Jewish Gnostics called Sethians—had no direct role in the creation of evil or our world, and bore absolutely no responsibility for our suffering.
No, evil and our world only appeared when the youngest emanation, called Wisdom, or Sophia, struck out on her own and committed a catastrophic spiritual crime. The nature of the crime varies from text to text, but usually she attempted to create by herself, without her partner, or to comprehend the upper God—either way, she violated the cosmic order, acting in presumption and deficiency, out of unspeakable pride. And from her pride was born a monster.
This was the lower God, an evil deity called Yaldabaoth or the Demiurge, a mid-powered craftsman-God adopted from Platonism but mutated by Sethians into an insecure, fucked-up loser. This cack-handed cretin woke up alone in darkness, concluded that he had made himself, and then—since he was ultimately a cracked mirror of the great invisible creator—set about slapping our unreal world together, making it from shadows and dreams and other spare illusions. As he worked, he unconsciously copied heavenly forms and hierarchies… and did a terrible job. He might have been evil, he might have created a million styles of suffering, but Yaldabaoth was not at all a Christian Satan, not some diabolically intelligent heavy-metal pain-lord looming over his earthly hellscape; no, this moody, jealous punisher, this embodied sacrifice-sniffer, this amateurish meddler roving up and down and flinging lightning bolts at his own people, demanding ceaseless slaughter and sacrifice, was the God of the Old Testament, revealed not just as a murderous jerk but as a dumb, talentless hack, his mediocre world like a child’s drawing blotched with red-crayon scribbles of blood, a moldy, stinking parody of all goodness and worth.
Worse, Yaldabaoth suffered under his own inferiority and lashed out when he felt challenged. When we humans threatened to surpass him by enlightened insight, he shackled us to fate and locked us into death, so that we would forget our greatness which made him feel so subpar. Imagine: billions of people have died in the mostly ghastly conceivable ways, all because our gnosis wounded his ego. A petty tyrant writ cosmically large, he would have been pathetic, even pitiable, if he weren’t the showrunner of our lives, the petulant orchestrator of all pain, bitchily yanking at the puppet strings of the theater of torture that we think of as our world—that colossal junkyard of illusions where people reel around confused by death, dazzled by materiality, blinded by the daily phantasmagoria of horrors, having abandoned their inner wells of living light, though their flesh-buried sparks of spirit are ever tantalized by the rapturous fragrance of the All, though their darkened minds always sense on some level that they do not belong here, that it is possible to wake up from this nightmare, that reality is not real, existence does not exist, and to be is not to be.
We must picture our early Catholic, in the moments before his noisy flight, staring with nauseated horror at the Gnostic. That bloodhound of enlightenment hasn’t looked up in a while, retelling his creation story with awe and trembling, mesmerized and moved all over again by this heady doctrine which contains the solution to his suffering, the explanation for his pain, for his fears and feelings about the world, about being watched, toyed with, persecuted, about being misled and betrayed and hated, about truth being concealed and difficult to find, about the somnolence of the masses. The demonic pains in his gut, the death of his infant daughter, the idiots in charge everywhere at all times, the staggeringly high victory-rate of the forces of darkness, the godawful, unforgivable suffering of innocents—all this finally made sense. Our Gnostic found an elegant answer to the Question of Evil, and had the Churchites been able to bear it, they might have saved themselves millennia of defensive oratory on the perennially red-eyed and heart-rending question of why innocents suffer. Ask the Catholic why a good God made evil, and you’ll get that familiar rigmarole about how we are granted free will in order to be tested, to sort good from evil and place our salvation in our own hands; ask a darkened luminary like Dostoevsky, if you want to be informed that we need to suffer to be able to choose Jesus, and if necessary the poor must starve and die. All those blameless children who get beaten, diddled, napalmed? They’re collateral damage in the great sorting of souls, victim of someone else’s wrong choice, destroyed by a design some call intelligent. But why, precisely, did a good God have to make evil? Why cancer, why brain parasites? Why boil us in the tar pit of time? The Gnostic shrugs sadly, expansively, with thick maroon smudges under his eyes, and, idly rotating a lamp he’s staring into, with little lights dancing in his pupils, reveals the truest thing he knows: that innocents bleed, the rapacious rule, and our lives are carnage incarnated, because our world is a psychotic prison made from pride and pain, a ceaseless cycle of suffering dreamed down by a colossal lion-headed wanker. Our world was created by a counterfeit, a ravener and a ravisher, a violent and childish dumb-ass, and we may confirm the bad news with this insight from the Gospel of Phillip:
“God is a man-eater, and so humans are sacrificed to him.”
2024.05.03 14:38 Angel466 [Bob the hobo] A Celestial Wars Spin-Off Part 1006
PART ONE THOUSAND AND SIX
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Sunday
Quent pulled up outside the apartment, then handed Kulon the keys and turned to me. “See you in a few hours, buster,” he said with a wink and then vanished as if he’d never been there. Rubin was quick to follow, leaving me to blink at the dual disappearing act.
“I don’t know why you find that so astonishing,” Kulon grumbled, climbing out of the car and opening my door. “You can realm-step just as fast.”
“Not from a seated position like that,” I argued after getting out and turning to hold out my hand for Gerry. “How do you vanish when your butt is literally still in the chair?”
“Invisible, shrink, step. Easy-peasy.”
I squinted at him, not really thinking it was easy at all. But before I could dwell any further on it, Kulon suddenly let out a very unwelcoming growl and stepped in front of me. “What do you want, Choirmaster?” he snarled, his right hand stretched out to keep both me and Gerry behind him.
“Do you really think I’m stupid enough to attack two true gryps on your nesting world in broad daylight?” came the bored, song-like reply. “Even two hatchlings like you?”
The growl from Kulon continued to grow in volume until I put my hand on the small of Kulon’s back to remind him this wasn’t the place. “Easy, buddy,” I crooned, already building up a decent dislike for whoever Kulon was facing off with. It hadn’t completely escaped my attention that while their job was to keep me from losing my temper, I was the one trying to take things down a notch.
“Sam,” the voice then sang, not the way one of those horror movies did it where you knew you were going to die, but more upbeat and wholesome. “Can you please step out from behind your true gryps bodyguard so that I may see you?”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” I said, trusting my friend way more than whoever this newcomer was. I then lifted my eyes to the second story of our apartment building. “And if you’re not careful, you’ll have a whole lot more than just two angry true gryps to tear you a new butthole, mister, and not all of them are my age.”
Whoever it was huffed and—from the way Kulon suddenly moved to his right—tried and failed to duck around him to reach me. “Keep your distance, Michael, and say what you came to say from back there. You will not get past me to him.”
“Very well. Sam, I’m the chosen messenger from your uncle, and He’s sent me to invite you to speak with Him. He’s given you His solemn vow that you are neither in trouble nor will anything untoward happen to you.”
I knew Dad had a lot of brothers … all of whom I’d never met. My fingers curled into Kulon’s back. “Can he hurt me if I look at him?” I had no idea what I was dealing with here. I knew from my travels that gorgons were a bad idea to look at, and if Kulon was being this cagey, I needed to know why.
“No,” Kulon admitted. “But he is the choirmaster of the Heavenly Host, so if anyone was going to cut you in half, it’d be him.” After a second, he added, “Well, he’d be second. I’d put Uriel’s capability ahead of his.”
From the double snicker I heard from the true gryps in front of me and the one in my ear, I assumed that our visitor hadn’t liked that correction.
I lifted my hand from Kulon’s back and placed it on his right hip, so that he’d know which way I was going, then stepped to that side. Geraldine, I kept behind Kulon, though she was able to peek around his arm.
Her gasp meant she’d seen the guy’s enormous emerald-green wings that he had spread partially to either side of him like a feathery cloak with a high collar. The rest of him looked like something out of ancient Rome. Silver plate mail armour with gold filigree around the edges covered his whole body from the neck down, and on his chest plate was a huge golden crucifix. He had a presence about him that looked like those sculptures where the guy was wrestling a lion barehanded without a single strand of hair falling out of place.
For whatever reason, it was only at that moment that I realised I was thinking of entirely the wrong generation of ‘uncles’, and as such, I’d forgotten all about this one …
…and more importantly, how I’d kinda been bad-mouthing him to Geraldine’s family less than an hour ago.
Ooooh, crap.
Though in my defence, I hadn’t technically bad-mouthed him. I was more … challenging the validity of his core belief. Yeah, that’d be what I’d go with if this was his way of clipping me under the ear.
“What’s he want with me?” I asked, hoping it might not be about that at all, and he was just looking for a social chit-chat.
The angel-boss/masteguy didn’t answer. Just gave me The Look.
“Crap,” I huffed under my breath and turned back to Gerry.
Only to find her pasty and trembling, staring straight at the angel. “H-H-He’s right there, r-right?” she stammered. Her breathing was erratic, and her eyes broke away from the guy to glance at me, then snapped straight back to him. “Angel. He’s an angel. A-a-a re-re-real—a real angel.”
“And you must be Sam’s plus one,” the angel smiled, lifting his already rugged handsomeness to transcendent levels. I was beginning to see why Geraldine hated the idea of me talking to pretty women. Seriously, would it hurt the guy to have some physical faults somewhere?
Oblivious to my internal monologue, the angel rolled forward in an introductory bow. “I am the Archangel Michael, Choirmaster of the Sixth Choir known as the Heavenly Host.”
“And today, a glorified errand boy,” Kulon reminded him.
Geraldine spluttered in horror, and I could have kissed Kulon for his snark.
“I am whatever He requires,” Michael sang, straightening up. Apparently, his friendliness had run its course, for he held his hand out to me and commanded, “Come, Sam. I will take you to Him.”
Since my interactions with angels were rather limited, I looked at Kulon for guidance.
He had that far-off stare that meant he was talking to one of his higher-ups before he dipped his head in either agreement or obedience and refocused on the angel. “Remember, Michael, your tricks don’t work on us. Not your speed. Not your brutality. Not even your establishment field. Before you or your Almighty can summon more angels, you’ll be overwhelmed with so many true gryps, you’ll be crushed under our body weight alone. Sam is ours, and you are no match for us. Are we clear?”
I nudged Kulon’s arm. “Why are you threatening him?”
“I’m not threatening him,” Kulon said, still glaring at Michael. “I’m reminding him of the stupidity of thinking you are anything other than fully protected at all times.”
“Okay … and why’s that relevant?”
Kulon sighed. “Because Michael has been known to go off the reservation occasionally for what he considers the greater good. Of course, he gets reprimanded for it afterwards, but then he gets his old job back because it’s the way the Almighty wants it. Meanwhile, the act itself is still done.” He stared icily at the angel. “Crossing us would be a huge mistake. Do we understand each other?”
“From your mouth to His ear,” Michael answered.
Kulon’s gaze narrowed all the more. “Exactly.”
Michael waved his hand as if he were chasing a bothersome fly. “Enough with this senseless posturing. You were ordered to turn him over to me, were you not?”
Ignoring Michael’s question, Kulon turned to me. “The Eechee has vouched for this visit, Sam, but the choice to go is yours. Contrary to this idiot’s opinion, no one’s going to make you do anything you don’t want to. Not while we’re around.”
I glanced at the angel, getting the hint that no amount of ignoring him would make him go away. “Can I walk Gerry upstairs first?”
Gerry’s grip tightened on my forearm. “I don’t want to go upstairs without you,” she said. I was about to ask why not when she added, “If I go in without you and anyone sees me, they’ll know something happened to you. How do I explain all of this when your dad and the others are trying to lie low? And if it gets back to your mom and causes her any kind of stress…” She let that sentence drift off; for my sake, I was sure.
And yeah, I could see where all of that would be bad. “Where do you want to go? Kulon can take you.”
Gerry looked at Kulon. “Could you just … drive me around for a bit? The same problem applies if anyone looks outside and sees the car. Sam can call us when he’s ready to be picked up, and we can come back together again then.”
Kulon looked at me. “This is what you want?”
I cuddled Gerry close and kissed her before guiding her into Kulon’s arms. “You two head off, first.”
I waited until the car pulled away from the curb and then turned to one of the most powerful angels in Heaven, if I was reading the subtext right.
“You have nothing to fear, Sam. He loves His family most of all.”
The angel put his hand on my shoulder, and we walked forward …
…only to stay on our street.
I looked across at him and was surprised to find him scowling darkly. “Do you NOT know how to blank your mind, boy?!” he sang angrily.
“Oh.” OH!
This guy was one of Heaven’s heaviest hitters, and the only reason he’d be telling me to clear my mind was because I was anchoring him … because I was higher up the food chain than him! Oooooh, holy crap!
“Sam!”
Right. Right. Clear head and…
…we realm-stepped away.
[Next Chapter]
* * *
((All comments welcome. Good or bad, I’d love to hear your thoughts 🥰🤗))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work, including WPs: Angel466 or an index of previous WPS here.
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!
submitted by Angel466 to redditserials [link] [comments]
[Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter] [The Beginning] [Patreon+2]
Sunday
Quent pulled up outside the apartment, then handed Kulon the keys and turned to me. “See you in a few hours, buster,” he said with a wink and then vanished as if he’d never been there. Rubin was quick to follow, leaving me to blink at the dual disappearing act.
“I don’t know why you find that so astonishing,” Kulon grumbled, climbing out of the car and opening my door. “You can realm-step just as fast.”
“Not from a seated position like that,” I argued after getting out and turning to hold out my hand for Gerry. “How do you vanish when your butt is literally still in the chair?”
“Invisible, shrink, step. Easy-peasy.”
I squinted at him, not really thinking it was easy at all. But before I could dwell any further on it, Kulon suddenly let out a very unwelcoming growl and stepped in front of me. “What do you want, Choirmaster?” he snarled, his right hand stretched out to keep both me and Gerry behind him.
“Do you really think I’m stupid enough to attack two true gryps on your nesting world in broad daylight?” came the bored, song-like reply. “Even two hatchlings like you?”
The growl from Kulon continued to grow in volume until I put my hand on the small of Kulon’s back to remind him this wasn’t the place. “Easy, buddy,” I crooned, already building up a decent dislike for whoever Kulon was facing off with. It hadn’t completely escaped my attention that while their job was to keep me from losing my temper, I was the one trying to take things down a notch.
“Sam,” the voice then sang, not the way one of those horror movies did it where you knew you were going to die, but more upbeat and wholesome. “Can you please step out from behind your true gryps bodyguard so that I may see you?”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” I said, trusting my friend way more than whoever this newcomer was. I then lifted my eyes to the second story of our apartment building. “And if you’re not careful, you’ll have a whole lot more than just two angry true gryps to tear you a new butthole, mister, and not all of them are my age.”
Whoever it was huffed and—from the way Kulon suddenly moved to his right—tried and failed to duck around him to reach me. “Keep your distance, Michael, and say what you came to say from back there. You will not get past me to him.”
“Very well. Sam, I’m the chosen messenger from your uncle, and He’s sent me to invite you to speak with Him. He’s given you His solemn vow that you are neither in trouble nor will anything untoward happen to you.”
I knew Dad had a lot of brothers … all of whom I’d never met. My fingers curled into Kulon’s back. “Can he hurt me if I look at him?” I had no idea what I was dealing with here. I knew from my travels that gorgons were a bad idea to look at, and if Kulon was being this cagey, I needed to know why.
“No,” Kulon admitted. “But he is the choirmaster of the Heavenly Host, so if anyone was going to cut you in half, it’d be him.” After a second, he added, “Well, he’d be second. I’d put Uriel’s capability ahead of his.”
From the double snicker I heard from the true gryps in front of me and the one in my ear, I assumed that our visitor hadn’t liked that correction.
I lifted my hand from Kulon’s back and placed it on his right hip, so that he’d know which way I was going, then stepped to that side. Geraldine, I kept behind Kulon, though she was able to peek around his arm.
Her gasp meant she’d seen the guy’s enormous emerald-green wings that he had spread partially to either side of him like a feathery cloak with a high collar. The rest of him looked like something out of ancient Rome. Silver plate mail armour with gold filigree around the edges covered his whole body from the neck down, and on his chest plate was a huge golden crucifix. He had a presence about him that looked like those sculptures where the guy was wrestling a lion barehanded without a single strand of hair falling out of place.
For whatever reason, it was only at that moment that I realised I was thinking of entirely the wrong generation of ‘uncles’, and as such, I’d forgotten all about this one …
…and more importantly, how I’d kinda been bad-mouthing him to Geraldine’s family less than an hour ago.
Ooooh, crap.
Though in my defence, I hadn’t technically bad-mouthed him. I was more … challenging the validity of his core belief. Yeah, that’d be what I’d go with if this was his way of clipping me under the ear.
“What’s he want with me?” I asked, hoping it might not be about that at all, and he was just looking for a social chit-chat.
The angel-boss/masteguy didn’t answer. Just gave me The Look.
“Crap,” I huffed under my breath and turned back to Gerry.
Only to find her pasty and trembling, staring straight at the angel. “H-H-He’s right there, r-right?” she stammered. Her breathing was erratic, and her eyes broke away from the guy to glance at me, then snapped straight back to him. “Angel. He’s an angel. A-a-a re-re-real—a real angel.”
“And you must be Sam’s plus one,” the angel smiled, lifting his already rugged handsomeness to transcendent levels. I was beginning to see why Geraldine hated the idea of me talking to pretty women. Seriously, would it hurt the guy to have some physical faults somewhere?
Oblivious to my internal monologue, the angel rolled forward in an introductory bow. “I am the Archangel Michael, Choirmaster of the Sixth Choir known as the Heavenly Host.”
“And today, a glorified errand boy,” Kulon reminded him.
Geraldine spluttered in horror, and I could have kissed Kulon for his snark.
“I am whatever He requires,” Michael sang, straightening up. Apparently, his friendliness had run its course, for he held his hand out to me and commanded, “Come, Sam. I will take you to Him.”
Since my interactions with angels were rather limited, I looked at Kulon for guidance.
He had that far-off stare that meant he was talking to one of his higher-ups before he dipped his head in either agreement or obedience and refocused on the angel. “Remember, Michael, your tricks don’t work on us. Not your speed. Not your brutality. Not even your establishment field. Before you or your Almighty can summon more angels, you’ll be overwhelmed with so many true gryps, you’ll be crushed under our body weight alone. Sam is ours, and you are no match for us. Are we clear?”
I nudged Kulon’s arm. “Why are you threatening him?”
“I’m not threatening him,” Kulon said, still glaring at Michael. “I’m reminding him of the stupidity of thinking you are anything other than fully protected at all times.”
“Okay … and why’s that relevant?”
Kulon sighed. “Because Michael has been known to go off the reservation occasionally for what he considers the greater good. Of course, he gets reprimanded for it afterwards, but then he gets his old job back because it’s the way the Almighty wants it. Meanwhile, the act itself is still done.” He stared icily at the angel. “Crossing us would be a huge mistake. Do we understand each other?”
“From your mouth to His ear,” Michael answered.
Kulon’s gaze narrowed all the more. “Exactly.”
Michael waved his hand as if he were chasing a bothersome fly. “Enough with this senseless posturing. You were ordered to turn him over to me, were you not?”
Ignoring Michael’s question, Kulon turned to me. “The Eechee has vouched for this visit, Sam, but the choice to go is yours. Contrary to this idiot’s opinion, no one’s going to make you do anything you don’t want to. Not while we’re around.”
I glanced at the angel, getting the hint that no amount of ignoring him would make him go away. “Can I walk Gerry upstairs first?”
Gerry’s grip tightened on my forearm. “I don’t want to go upstairs without you,” she said. I was about to ask why not when she added, “If I go in without you and anyone sees me, they’ll know something happened to you. How do I explain all of this when your dad and the others are trying to lie low? And if it gets back to your mom and causes her any kind of stress…” She let that sentence drift off; for my sake, I was sure.
And yeah, I could see where all of that would be bad. “Where do you want to go? Kulon can take you.”
Gerry looked at Kulon. “Could you just … drive me around for a bit? The same problem applies if anyone looks outside and sees the car. Sam can call us when he’s ready to be picked up, and we can come back together again then.”
Kulon looked at me. “This is what you want?”
I cuddled Gerry close and kissed her before guiding her into Kulon’s arms. “You two head off, first.”
I waited until the car pulled away from the curb and then turned to one of the most powerful angels in Heaven, if I was reading the subtext right.
“You have nothing to fear, Sam. He loves His family most of all.”
The angel put his hand on my shoulder, and we walked forward …
…only to stay on our street.
I looked across at him and was surprised to find him scowling darkly. “Do you NOT know how to blank your mind, boy?!” he sang angrily.
“Oh.” OH!
This guy was one of Heaven’s heaviest hitters, and the only reason he’d be telling me to clear my mind was because I was anchoring him … because I was higher up the food chain than him! Oooooh, holy crap!
“Sam!”
Right. Right. Clear head and…
…we realm-stepped away.
[Next Chapter]
* * *
((All comments welcome. Good or bad, I’d love to hear your thoughts 🥰🤗))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work, including WPs: Angel466 or an index of previous WPS here.
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!
2024.04.19 05:34 Impressive-Yak3960 Unveiling the Mythical Lion Dog: Is "The Complete Guide To Tibetan Mastiffs" Your Golden Ticket?
 | submitted by Impressive-Yak3960 to AudiobooksReview [link] [comments] The Tibetan Mastiff The Tibetan Mastiff is the real deal when it comes to colossal canines with a touch of mystery. These mountain giants, often nicknamed "Lion Dogs," boast a history as rich as your grandma's heirloom china, and their loyalty runs deeper than a Himalayan cliff side . But before you start measuring your living room for a future roommate, let's crack open Tarah Schwartz "The Complete Guide To Tibetan Mastiffs" and see if it holds the key to unlocking the secrets of this unique breed. A Treasure Chest Overflowing with Tibetan Mastiff Knowledge Schwartz clearly has a serious case of Tibetan Mastiff obsession (and who can blame her?), because this book is bursting with info. We're talking historical deep dives, interviews with breeders who know their stuff, and real-life experiences from Mastiff owners who've been there, done that. It's like a buffet of knowledge, covering everything from the breed's ancient past to their temperament, socialization needs (crucial!), training strategies, grooming requirements, and even potential health concerns. And the best part? Schwartz writes in a way that even someone who wouldn't know a down-stay from a belly rub can understand. Beyond the Fluff: Demystifying the Mastiff Mentality One of the coolest things about this book is how it tackles the whole "aloof Mastiff" myth head-on. Schwartz totally busts that stereotype, showing how these gentle giants can be loyal, smart, and capable of some serious affection (just don't expect them to be cuddle monsters 24/7). But she also keeps it real about the challenges of owning a giant breed. Another colossal breed of Mastiff is the English Mastiff. Think dedicated chapters on socialization, training (because a giant dog who pulls on the leash is no fun for anyone), and establishing yourself as the leader of the pack (because, let's face it, a Mastiff can be a handful). A Visual Celebration of the Lion Dog This book isn't just a text-heavy snooze fest. Schwartz throws in tons of amazing photos that capture the majestic beauty of the Tibetan Mastiff. We're talking drool-worthy close-ups of those fluffy faces, action shots of them strutting their stuff in the mountains, and pics that showcase the variety of coat colors and sizes these giants come in. Plus, she adds helpful diagrams and charts to explain specific training techniques and health concerns. Basically, it's like having a mini-documentary about a Tibetan Mastiff puppy right at your fingertips. Tailoring the Info: Is This Book for Everyone? While "The Complete Guide To Tibetan Mastiffs" is an info goldmine, the sheer amount of detail might leave some new dog owners feeling a bit overwhelmed. A dedicated section targeted towards first-time Mastiff owners, outlining the unique considerations of owning such a large and powerful dog, would be a sweet addition. If you don't mind some wrinkles on your furry companion consider adopting a Neapolitan Mastiff. Schwartz knowledge on the breed's working history is interesting for experienced dog handlers or those considering working roles for their Mastiff. However, some readers seeking a companion for an active family lifestyle might crave a more nuanced discussion of the breed's suitability for such environments. A Celebration of a Unique Breed Look, "The Complete Guide To Tibetan Mastiffs" by Tarah Schwartz is a total win for the world of dog books. This comprehensive guide offers a treasure trove of knowledge for both aspiring and experienced Mastiff owners. Schwartz dedication to the breed is clear in her meticulous research, engaging writing style, and stunning visuals. While the extensive content might be a bit much for some, the book serves as an invaluable resource for those willing to dive into the fascinating world of the Tibetan Mastiff. If you're seeking a loyal companion unlike any other, "The Complete Guide To Tibetan Mastiffs" equips you with the knowledge and understanding necessary to navigate the journey of Mastiff ownership with confidence and success. Remember, This Book Ain't Your Bible No single book can replace responsible research and hands-on experience before welcoming a Tibetan Mastiff into your life. While Schwartz offers valuable insights into the breed's temperament, spending time with actual Mastiffs and consulting with reputable breeders is crucial. These colossal canines require a significant amount of space, exercise, and experienced handling. Much like the Cane Corso whom also requires large spacious dwellings. Furthermore, potential owners should be prepared for the financial commitment associated with caring for a giant breed, including food, veterinary care, and potential training needs. In Conclusion "The Complete Guide To Tibetan Mastiffs" by Tarah Schwartz is an indispensable resource for anyone considering welcoming Tibetan Mastiff Puppies into their lives. Its comprehensive exploration of the breed's history, temperament, needs, and care requirements empowers readers to make informed decisions. While some readers might benefit from a more targeted approach based on experience level, the book's overall depth and quality make it a valuable addition to any dog lover's library. For those seeking a loyal guardian with a majestic presence and a heart of gold, "The Complete Guide To Tibetan Mastiffs" serves as the perfect introduction to this extraordinary breed. Timeless Reviews That Are Evergreen Unsure if an audiobook or a physical book is right for your next adventure? Reviews can be your compass! Prepare for an in-depth look at exciting articles and reviews. We analyze narrator performance alongside plot summaries, helping you choose the perfect listening experience. For traditionalists, written book reviews offer insightful critiques to guide your selections. Many sites even curate recommendations based on genre and preferences, ensuring you find your next great read, no matter the format. Dive into the world of audiobooks and books with the help of these comprehensive reviews. |
2024.04.11 12:08 Angel466 [Bob the hobo] A Celestial Wars Spin-Off Part 0995
PART NINE HUNDRED AND NINETY-FIVE
[Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter] [The Beginning] [Patreon+2]
Sunday
For whatever reason, Mason couldn’t stay asleep for longer than an hour or two at a time. It wasn’t because he was worried about anything or because the bed was suddenly uncomfortable. Mason almost laughed as that possibility came and went, knowing that the room had been designed for him by the gods. He doubted if it was even allowed to be uncomfortable.
But he couldn’t put his finger on what kept waking him up. Certainly, nothing that triggered Ben, who had managed to roll himself onto his back with his feet in the air, chasing something as fast as he could in his sleep. “You get that squirrel, buddy,” Mason whispered, earning a whine from his four-legged friend.
Mason then rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up, looking at the ceiling as he interlocked his fingers and stretched them over his head. His back clicked in all the right places, and he let out a tiny groan of pleasure as he released his fingers and shook out his arms.
When he dropped his chin and opened his eyes, Ben was sitting between his legs, looking up at him as if he hung the stars. “Hey, beautiful boy,” he said, rubbing Ben’s ears and rolling forward to press their foreheads together. “I didn’t mean to wake you up at—” He laid down to his right and stretched his neck to see the time according to the gaming system. “Aw, shoot, dude. It’s not even six in the morning.”
But he knew there was no point trying to go back to bed. He was up, and the sooner he accepted that the sooner he could start his day.
His day that may or may not include Khai as a study partner.
His heart bounced in excitement at that possibility, and he realised that might very well be the cause of his restlessness. He hadn’t been joking about how much he enjoyed listening to the stories of those who had been through where he was going, and Khai was bound to be a font of information…
…if he made it.
Mason climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom next door to take care of business. Then, since he was already in there, he took a quick shower to wake himself properly. Ben snuffled and huffed under the bathroom door, causing him to chuckle to himself. “I told you yesterday, it’s about time you learned there’s a shower etiquette that states ‘no nosing or licking my naked butt while I’m trying to get clean’,” he said laughingly at the shut door.
A few minutes later, washed and mostly dry, he peeked around the bathroom door to Llyr’s side of the apartment to ensure no one was there before pushing his way through Ben and ducking around the corner into his room with nothing more than a towel wrapped around his hips. Ben, of course, followed him in.
“Alright, alright,” he laughed as Ben nudged him twice in the back of the thighs from behind. “I’m getting there. Don’t rush me!” He made a point of getting dressed, ignoring Ben as the overgrown dork parked his butt beside his very empty food bowl and looked at him as if this unacceptable situation was entirely his fault and required immediate rectification.
After Mason dressed, he went to where the dry kibble was stored and scooped out enough for Ben’s breakfast. “Eat,” he commanded once he put the bowl down and stepped away, and Ben lunged forward to inhale his food. “I really should look into one of those slow feeder bowls for you, buddy,” he said, giving Ben’s rump a parting pat on his way over to his workstation.
From the top corner of the Sectra table, he spotted three long legs of the wolf spider he cohabited with. Years of habit had him going to the small bar fridge, where he kept the canister of silkworms and crickets that were the arachnid’s favourites…
…right up until he remembered the conversation he’d had yesterday afternoon with Larry. Then he closed the fridge door (careful not to bang it, as tempted as his sudden dark mood made him) and turned back to the Sectra table with his hands on his hips. “Give me one good reason why I don’t pitch the whole canister at you. Or better yet, flush the whole damn lot down the toilet, you lying, manipulative asshole!”
Hunter appeared over the top of the table with all four front legs in the air. Any hint of him being a normal spider went completely out the window when those four airborne feet came together into a pair of clasped limbs, pleading like a beggar.
“Don’t even!” Mason barked, trying hard not to laugh at the true gryps’ antics. He pointed in the general direction of the kitchen. “Robbie’s probably already made you a meal fit for a king, and now I get all those ‘it’s better than bugs and slugs’ digs everyone’s been having at my expense. I mean, I can take a joke better than the next guy, but six freaking years?! What the hell, dude?”
The spider lowered its feet and crawled over the back of the table where Mason couldn’t see him. “You really think I’d do that to you?” Larry asked in his normal voice.
Mason was too hurt to be surprised. “Well, everyone sure found it funny, comparing my culinary capability to Robbie’s. I thought you were a spider!”
“Mason, stop. I’m sorry if the others needling me has upset you. The truth is you made my life a lot easier for me for years, and I’ll always be in your debt for that. I’m older than some of the states in this fine country but I still need to eat, and with the tight budget you were all on, you’d have noticed if I started helping myself to what you had as a human. I was just a spider … hunting around for something to eat in your bedroom the night you found me.
“Did I recognise you were homesick the first time you fed me? Maybe. But you’re a good person, Mason, and I wasn’t about to let you give up on your dream just because you didn’t have any animal friends around you. We helped each other back then, and even though you didn’t know it at the time, our bond became real.”
“What, like the bond you have with Robbie?”
“Close. Robbie and I are genetically hardwired together, so I have to look out for him.”
“So, like you and Boyd then?”
“Like any close friend I’ve ever had,” Larry insisted. “Because that’s what we are. Maybe now that you know, it’s a case of the lion and the mouse, but it doesn’t change the fact that if anyone messes with you, they won’t live long enough to regret it.”
“I thought Angus was the one who messed those guys up?”
“Only because I was on duty at the time, and he told me to stand down because he was taking care of it. Nothing else would’ve stopped me from finding them. It might have taken a little longer as I could only dedicate bits and pieces of my time within the purview of my assignment, but they were never going to get away with it, Mason. I categorically promise you that.”
Mason didn’t fight the smile that worked its way across his face. “And now that Robbie is the second half of your assignment, you get to be here in equal proportions with your other job instead of just popping in to check up on Boyd and grabbing a quick snack on the way out.” Mason looked at the jar in his hands and shook his head. “You know, we don’t have to keep doing this anymore if you don’t want to. It seems silly to be feeding silkworms to something that can eat a god and use their bones for toothpicks.”
“They both taste like chicken.”
Mason blinked. “You are joking, right?” He couldn’t be sure.
Larry’s chuckle had Mason relaxing.
“Okay, good.”
“You know,” Larry said, his tone taking on a contemplative tone. “I still look back and find it amazing that in a city of eight million, I found the only newly displaced country kid who needed an animal to look after to give himself value. You even went out to the dumpster on my behalf and found food for me. Years later, you were still prepared to buy me food, without asking a thing in return but my company. Did you honestly think that wouldn’t elevate you to something special where I’m concerned?”
Mason licked his lips, unsure how to proceed. “So, ummm, just out of curiosity. If you’d have seen me in the alleyway when Boyd came home that night, all dressed in black, what would you have done?”
“I’d have made sure Boyd was safely inside, and then I’d have been on your ass like a rash to find out what you were up to. And I promise you, those men that attacked you would never have laid so much as a finger on you.”
Mason closed his eyes and shuddered, remembering how they’d done so much more than that. Ben whined and, despite not having his jacket on, was across the room to Mason in a heartbeat, head-butting Mason’s thigh and jumping up to lick his face and throat while still whining. Mason dropped to the floor and wrapped his arms around his service animal, using the contact to remind himself that those men were part of his past, not his present. Past … not the present. Past … not the present.
A set of human hands gently rubbed his shoulders. “Sorry, kiddo. I’m not a healer, so I’m still learning how to avoid triggering you.”
“It’s okay,” Mason panted once he emerged on the other side. I shouldn’t have asked. There was no way to answer that without taking me back there.” He gave Ben a final squeeze and looked up at a humanised Larry, though he had a thick mat of black fur like underwear.
The visual brought him full circle. “What do you want to do as far as the spider food is concerned? I bought it for you, and it’s yours, but hand-feeding you the way I used to seems weird now.”
“You want me to be honest?”
“Nah, I want you to lie to me.”
Mason received a firm but not painful slap to the back of his head, not unlike the ones his ma would issue for exactly the same reason.
“Wiseass. Truthfully, it’s been a really, really long time since anyone’s looked out for me, and it’s been nice. Besides, everyone’s used to me being a spider here, so having me crawl across the wall now and again won’t be drawing me any unwanted attention.”
“Unless Charlie sees you. Then you’re fucked.”
Larry’s smile fell away. “One time,” he said, holding one finger up for emphasis. “And she had better aim than I gave her credit for. Trust me, it’ll never happen again.”
“You should talk to her,” Mason said. “She knows you’re prickly around her, but she doesn’t know why. And quite frankly, that’s not fair to her. How’s she supposed to apologise for something she doesn’t know she did?”
“So you said yesterday.”
“Because I’m right, and you know it.”
Larry emptied his lungs, puffing his cheeks out as he did so. “You’re not going to drop it, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fine. I’ll talk to her today.”
Mason gave a happy wriggle as he hugged Ben once more. “So, when I see you as a spider, do I call you Hunter or Larry?”
“Hunter, I think. Calling a spider ‘Larry’ in front of the others and pointing out the fact it’s me is the opposite of staying in the background, don’t you think?”
“Fair.”
“So, can I please have breakfast now?” From one instant to the next, Larry disappeared and reappeared as Hunter the spider on the Sectra table, his front legs once more clasped in silent begging.
“You are beyond a sap, mister,” he said, glad that when he’d had his episode, he’d dropped the canister of silkworms. It had only been a couple of feet onto a thick, shagpile carpet, and it hadn’t broken. He stood up with it and unscrewed the lid, then grabbed the long-neck tweezers and pulled out one of the squirming bundles. “Here you go.”
Hunter stretched both front forelegs forward. Once he secured the silkworm, he drew it to his mouth, sinking his fangs into its squirming body.
“It’s a normal wolf spider, not my shapeshifting friend,” he said aloud to himself, wondering how many times he’d have to say it to believe it.
[Next Chapter]
* * *
((All comments welcome. Good or bad, I’d love to hear your thoughts 🥰🤗))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work, including WPs: Angel466 or an index of previous WPS here.
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!!
submitted by Angel466 to redditserials [link] [comments]
[Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter] [The Beginning] [Patreon+2]
Sunday
For whatever reason, Mason couldn’t stay asleep for longer than an hour or two at a time. It wasn’t because he was worried about anything or because the bed was suddenly uncomfortable. Mason almost laughed as that possibility came and went, knowing that the room had been designed for him by the gods. He doubted if it was even allowed to be uncomfortable.
But he couldn’t put his finger on what kept waking him up. Certainly, nothing that triggered Ben, who had managed to roll himself onto his back with his feet in the air, chasing something as fast as he could in his sleep. “You get that squirrel, buddy,” Mason whispered, earning a whine from his four-legged friend.
Mason then rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up, looking at the ceiling as he interlocked his fingers and stretched them over his head. His back clicked in all the right places, and he let out a tiny groan of pleasure as he released his fingers and shook out his arms.
When he dropped his chin and opened his eyes, Ben was sitting between his legs, looking up at him as if he hung the stars. “Hey, beautiful boy,” he said, rubbing Ben’s ears and rolling forward to press their foreheads together. “I didn’t mean to wake you up at—” He laid down to his right and stretched his neck to see the time according to the gaming system. “Aw, shoot, dude. It’s not even six in the morning.”
But he knew there was no point trying to go back to bed. He was up, and the sooner he accepted that the sooner he could start his day.
His day that may or may not include Khai as a study partner.
His heart bounced in excitement at that possibility, and he realised that might very well be the cause of his restlessness. He hadn’t been joking about how much he enjoyed listening to the stories of those who had been through where he was going, and Khai was bound to be a font of information…
…if he made it.
Mason climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom next door to take care of business. Then, since he was already in there, he took a quick shower to wake himself properly. Ben snuffled and huffed under the bathroom door, causing him to chuckle to himself. “I told you yesterday, it’s about time you learned there’s a shower etiquette that states ‘no nosing or licking my naked butt while I’m trying to get clean’,” he said laughingly at the shut door.
A few minutes later, washed and mostly dry, he peeked around the bathroom door to Llyr’s side of the apartment to ensure no one was there before pushing his way through Ben and ducking around the corner into his room with nothing more than a towel wrapped around his hips. Ben, of course, followed him in.
“Alright, alright,” he laughed as Ben nudged him twice in the back of the thighs from behind. “I’m getting there. Don’t rush me!” He made a point of getting dressed, ignoring Ben as the overgrown dork parked his butt beside his very empty food bowl and looked at him as if this unacceptable situation was entirely his fault and required immediate rectification.
After Mason dressed, he went to where the dry kibble was stored and scooped out enough for Ben’s breakfast. “Eat,” he commanded once he put the bowl down and stepped away, and Ben lunged forward to inhale his food. “I really should look into one of those slow feeder bowls for you, buddy,” he said, giving Ben’s rump a parting pat on his way over to his workstation.
From the top corner of the Sectra table, he spotted three long legs of the wolf spider he cohabited with. Years of habit had him going to the small bar fridge, where he kept the canister of silkworms and crickets that were the arachnid’s favourites…
…right up until he remembered the conversation he’d had yesterday afternoon with Larry. Then he closed the fridge door (careful not to bang it, as tempted as his sudden dark mood made him) and turned back to the Sectra table with his hands on his hips. “Give me one good reason why I don’t pitch the whole canister at you. Or better yet, flush the whole damn lot down the toilet, you lying, manipulative asshole!”
Hunter appeared over the top of the table with all four front legs in the air. Any hint of him being a normal spider went completely out the window when those four airborne feet came together into a pair of clasped limbs, pleading like a beggar.
“Don’t even!” Mason barked, trying hard not to laugh at the true gryps’ antics. He pointed in the general direction of the kitchen. “Robbie’s probably already made you a meal fit for a king, and now I get all those ‘it’s better than bugs and slugs’ digs everyone’s been having at my expense. I mean, I can take a joke better than the next guy, but six freaking years?! What the hell, dude?”
The spider lowered its feet and crawled over the back of the table where Mason couldn’t see him. “You really think I’d do that to you?” Larry asked in his normal voice.
Mason was too hurt to be surprised. “Well, everyone sure found it funny, comparing my culinary capability to Robbie’s. I thought you were a spider!”
“Mason, stop. I’m sorry if the others needling me has upset you. The truth is you made my life a lot easier for me for years, and I’ll always be in your debt for that. I’m older than some of the states in this fine country but I still need to eat, and with the tight budget you were all on, you’d have noticed if I started helping myself to what you had as a human. I was just a spider … hunting around for something to eat in your bedroom the night you found me.
“Did I recognise you were homesick the first time you fed me? Maybe. But you’re a good person, Mason, and I wasn’t about to let you give up on your dream just because you didn’t have any animal friends around you. We helped each other back then, and even though you didn’t know it at the time, our bond became real.”
“What, like the bond you have with Robbie?”
“Close. Robbie and I are genetically hardwired together, so I have to look out for him.”
“So, like you and Boyd then?”
“Like any close friend I’ve ever had,” Larry insisted. “Because that’s what we are. Maybe now that you know, it’s a case of the lion and the mouse, but it doesn’t change the fact that if anyone messes with you, they won’t live long enough to regret it.”
“I thought Angus was the one who messed those guys up?”
“Only because I was on duty at the time, and he told me to stand down because he was taking care of it. Nothing else would’ve stopped me from finding them. It might have taken a little longer as I could only dedicate bits and pieces of my time within the purview of my assignment, but they were never going to get away with it, Mason. I categorically promise you that.”
Mason didn’t fight the smile that worked its way across his face. “And now that Robbie is the second half of your assignment, you get to be here in equal proportions with your other job instead of just popping in to check up on Boyd and grabbing a quick snack on the way out.” Mason looked at the jar in his hands and shook his head. “You know, we don’t have to keep doing this anymore if you don’t want to. It seems silly to be feeding silkworms to something that can eat a god and use their bones for toothpicks.”
“They both taste like chicken.”
Mason blinked. “You are joking, right?” He couldn’t be sure.
Larry’s chuckle had Mason relaxing.
“Okay, good.”
“You know,” Larry said, his tone taking on a contemplative tone. “I still look back and find it amazing that in a city of eight million, I found the only newly displaced country kid who needed an animal to look after to give himself value. You even went out to the dumpster on my behalf and found food for me. Years later, you were still prepared to buy me food, without asking a thing in return but my company. Did you honestly think that wouldn’t elevate you to something special where I’m concerned?”
Mason licked his lips, unsure how to proceed. “So, ummm, just out of curiosity. If you’d have seen me in the alleyway when Boyd came home that night, all dressed in black, what would you have done?”
“I’d have made sure Boyd was safely inside, and then I’d have been on your ass like a rash to find out what you were up to. And I promise you, those men that attacked you would never have laid so much as a finger on you.”
Mason closed his eyes and shuddered, remembering how they’d done so much more than that. Ben whined and, despite not having his jacket on, was across the room to Mason in a heartbeat, head-butting Mason’s thigh and jumping up to lick his face and throat while still whining. Mason dropped to the floor and wrapped his arms around his service animal, using the contact to remind himself that those men were part of his past, not his present. Past … not the present. Past … not the present.
A set of human hands gently rubbed his shoulders. “Sorry, kiddo. I’m not a healer, so I’m still learning how to avoid triggering you.”
“It’s okay,” Mason panted once he emerged on the other side. I shouldn’t have asked. There was no way to answer that without taking me back there.” He gave Ben a final squeeze and looked up at a humanised Larry, though he had a thick mat of black fur like underwear.
The visual brought him full circle. “What do you want to do as far as the spider food is concerned? I bought it for you, and it’s yours, but hand-feeding you the way I used to seems weird now.”
“You want me to be honest?”
“Nah, I want you to lie to me.”
Mason received a firm but not painful slap to the back of his head, not unlike the ones his ma would issue for exactly the same reason.
“Wiseass. Truthfully, it’s been a really, really long time since anyone’s looked out for me, and it’s been nice. Besides, everyone’s used to me being a spider here, so having me crawl across the wall now and again won’t be drawing me any unwanted attention.”
“Unless Charlie sees you. Then you’re fucked.”
Larry’s smile fell away. “One time,” he said, holding one finger up for emphasis. “And she had better aim than I gave her credit for. Trust me, it’ll never happen again.”
“You should talk to her,” Mason said. “She knows you’re prickly around her, but she doesn’t know why. And quite frankly, that’s not fair to her. How’s she supposed to apologise for something she doesn’t know she did?”
“So you said yesterday.”
“Because I’m right, and you know it.”
Larry emptied his lungs, puffing his cheeks out as he did so. “You’re not going to drop it, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fine. I’ll talk to her today.”
Mason gave a happy wriggle as he hugged Ben once more. “So, when I see you as a spider, do I call you Hunter or Larry?”
“Hunter, I think. Calling a spider ‘Larry’ in front of the others and pointing out the fact it’s me is the opposite of staying in the background, don’t you think?”
“Fair.”
“So, can I please have breakfast now?” From one instant to the next, Larry disappeared and reappeared as Hunter the spider on the Sectra table, his front legs once more clasped in silent begging.
“You are beyond a sap, mister,” he said, glad that when he’d had his episode, he’d dropped the canister of silkworms. It had only been a couple of feet onto a thick, shagpile carpet, and it hadn’t broken. He stood up with it and unscrewed the lid, then grabbed the long-neck tweezers and pulled out one of the squirming bundles. “Here you go.”
Hunter stretched both front forelegs forward. Once he secured the silkworm, he drew it to his mouth, sinking his fangs into its squirming body.
“It’s a normal wolf spider, not my shapeshifting friend,” he said aloud to himself, wondering how many times he’d have to say it to believe it.
[Next Chapter]
* * *
((All comments welcome. Good or bad, I’d love to hear your thoughts 🥰🤗))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work, including WPs: Angel466 or an index of previous WPS here.
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!!
2024.04.09 22:55 Doubtfulaboutit Elden Ring Design Inspiration
 | NOTE: the numbering got out of order when I posted so don’t read too much into paragraphs numbers. submitted by Doubtfulaboutit to eldenringdiscussion [link] [comments] The Great Runes of Elden Ring all correspond in some way to the whole of the Elden Ring that we see depicted on the title screen and in Marika's body. (I won't be discussing the Lattice in the background that is associated with Radagon simply because that is not a rune that the game grants us or seems to do much with, although it is possible its an interpretation of the pillars I mention below). https://preview.redd.it/syohlz7ooitc1.jpg?width=1280&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=f7d24a5f0405ed082a9b8a26fae096853941f670 All of these runes exist as one within Marika up until the shattering, during which they are claimed by various demigods (with exception to Rennala as Radagon gifts the Rune of the Unborn to her). While all of these fit pretty easily into the design of the Elden Ring the game is famous for, there is another design that the rings fit (fairly) neatly into that I believe served as the inspiration for the Elden Ring and, to some degree, even characteristics of the demi gods themselves. In Kabbalah there is a tree known as the Sephiroth (no, not that one) Tree. The tree is at the core of Kabballah, it's most influential and multi-layered symbol. Kabbalah is not an exact practice across time and you will find a great variety of explanations, art and diagrams that attempt to explain humanity's existence. However, some aspects are fairly consistent. https://preview.redd.it/o14tndppoitc1.jpg?width=1668&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=95932ae6c1b3fb4b0ada5b10f29a69d365dff24c The Sephiroth tree is called such because there are the ten Sephiroths (or sefirots), primal numbers which, in combination with the twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet, represent the plan of creation (or Order of Creation) of all upper and lower things. They are the ten names, attributes or powers of God, and form a pulsating organism called the "mystical face of God" or the "Body of the Universe". It stands on the Three Pillars: Mercy (Right), Severity/Punishment (Left) and Balance (Central). The central pillar is the spine or lineage through which the Divine Dew flows down. The 10 Sephiroth are also separated into Four Worlds: the light world, the throne world, the world of angels and the spiritual world corresponding with the material world (these aren't super important but factor into the design). You can google longer and more in-depth explanations of each of the ten attributes but I'll provide a brief explanation of each here: World 1:
https://preview.redd.it/gvlxto7roitc1.jpg?width=1668&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=5a17b211b440df099a29eacae171bf028308b42c That is a lot to just throw onto the tree so lets break it down:
https://preview.redd.it/ko5c5uvsoitc1.jpg?width=1668&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=2840b00b42099cb1d0703bb85abd5505f8a14a87 In contrast to this symbol of life, the Rune of Death is the inverse, the rune being upturned in the opposite direction https://preview.redd.it/gmjf3rwtoitc1.jpg?width=512&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=665ae556bc78e203ac4e2f2963cb8462e824c056 "BUT WAIT!! What about Messmer?" Good question, there is an 11th Sephiroth, a hidden one. (No Im not making this up) https://preview.redd.it/pzd8098voitc1.jpg?width=1668&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=54e2762f0701dc533c673614bc0ef5aeeed575d6
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2024.04.09 22:17 Doubtfulaboutit The Elden Ring's Rune Design Inspiration
 | NOTE: the numbering got out of order when I posted so don’t read too much into paragraphs numbers. submitted by Doubtfulaboutit to Eldenring [link] [comments] The Great Runes of Elden Ring all correspond in some way to the whole of the Elden Ring that we see depicted on the title screen and in Marika's body. (I won't be discussing the Lattice in the background that is associated with Radagon simply because that is not a rune that the game grants us or seems to do much with, although it is possible its an interpretation of the pillars I mention below). https://preview.redd.it/rd6cqhmreitc1.jpg?width=666&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=7ebe41286a25b4ac7a640d52c02ad6ed45de2fa1 All of these runes exist as one within Marika up until the shattering, during which they are claimed by various demigods (with exception to Rennala as Radagon gifts the Rune of the Unborn to her). While all of these fit pretty easily into the design of the Elden Ring the game is famous for, there is another design that the rings fit (fairly) neatly into that I believe served as the inspiration for the Elden Ring and, to some degree, even characteristics of the demi gods themselves. In Kabbalah there is a tree known as the Sephiroth (no, not that one) Tree. The tree is at the core of Kabballah, it's most influential and multi-layered symbol. Kabbalah is not an exact practice across time and you will find a great variety of explanations, art and diagrams that attempt to explain humanity's existence. However, some aspects are fairly consistent. Numbers are linked to English translation below The Sephiroth tree is called such because there are the ten Sephiroths (or sefirots), primal numbers which, in combination with the twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet, represent the plan of creation (or Order of Creation) of all upper and lower things. They are the ten names, attributes or powers of God, and form a pulsating organism called the "mystical face of God" or the "Body of the Universe". It stands on the Three Pillars: Mercy (Right), Severity/Punishment (Left) and Balance (Central). The central pillar is the spine or lineage through which the Divine Dew flows down. The 10 Sephiroth are also separated into Four Worlds: the light world, the throne world, the world of angels and the spiritual world corresponding with the material world (these aren't super important but factor into the design). You can google longer and more in-depth explanations of each of the ten attributes but I'll provide a brief explanation of each here: World 1:
https://preview.redd.it/8zbuz74dyhtc1.jpg?width=1668&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4509df1612b72a752736321949ebda20ae0c2bdf That is a lot to just throw onto the tree so lets break it down:
https://preview.redd.it/3rtl3a6vditc1.jpg?width=1668&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=e333d80a02d7447467e0e4d61ffd7736f16d7ffc In contrast to this symbol of life, the Rune of Death is the inverse, the rune being upturned in the opposite direction. https://preview.redd.it/rljh5jxeeitc1.jpg?width=512&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=0699626631a08243d09c8bcdf65e59091180d6b8 "BUT WAIT!! What about Messmer?" Good question, there is an 11th Sephiroth, a hidden one. (No Im not making this up). https://preview.redd.it/7irpp5yfgitc1.jpg?width=1668&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=97be0135ee414f5c667db6d5e310c1b2fe33bec8
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2024.04.09 13:31 diegotsutsumi Melatonin cleared brain fog?
Hi all, I just figured it would be useful to report here my experience with melatonin.
-----Some context (you can skip this if you wish)----
I'm a 35M 4 months into LC, my symptoms are basically all neurological, initially I had panic attacks, heart palpitations, episodes of DPDR (not frequent), SOB (probably due to dysautonomia), constant high anxiety, constant mild dizziness, some brain fog, and low blood pressure.
At the 2 months mark these symptoms were all much milder than in the begining. But I'm left with relatively loud Tinnitus (started at the 1.5 month mark), mild constant dizziness, with some episodes (especially in bed before sleep) where tinnitus and dizziness get stronger.
I mostly follow a low carb (not keto) diet, intermittent fasting and loads of supplementation: B-complex, D, C, Omega 3, bromelain, tumeric, nattokinase, lions mane, ginkgo biloba. I also do moderate intensity exercises 4 times a week (funny enough I don't have exercise intolerance).
My vitamins D and C were low right after I recovered from the acute phase (when symptoms started)
------------end of context--------------
Mild brain fog was always there from the beginning, I'm a researcher and I use my brain intensively to work, so I'm really sensitive to even mild brain fog. My ability to visualize complex concepts is definitely impaired, a bit of memory issues and attention deficit as well. But I could still function normally, follow normal conversations, read and write emails, etc..
My sleeping isn't bad, 7-8 hours a day, but since I'd have a hard time sleeping in time (11:30PM), yesterday I tried out 5mg of Melatonin.
Melatonin seems to have lowered my BP during sleep (no measurements though), I'd wake up a bit dizzy with low heart rate (my sleep HR is 50, I saw it going down to 42 this night) sometimes during last night. In the morning I was a bit sleepy, but after waking up and having shower my mild brain fog seems to have just gone!
It was the first time in 4 months I could visualize very clearly and quickly in my mind whatever I wanted to. Like complex diagrams and reason visually about them (for my work), places like my mom's house in details. The feeling is very good!!!
I'll lower my Melatonin dosage though for the next few days, due to waking up dizzy, and see what happens
------ Update 11th April 2024 ------
I halved my melatonin dosage from 5mg to 2.5mg but I got the same side effects, dizziness during the night, I did not get a good sleep while on melatonin. I'll stop for a week and try 1mg again
submitted by diegotsutsumi to LongCovid [link] [comments]
-----Some context (you can skip this if you wish)----
I'm a 35M 4 months into LC, my symptoms are basically all neurological, initially I had panic attacks, heart palpitations, episodes of DPDR (not frequent), SOB (probably due to dysautonomia), constant high anxiety, constant mild dizziness, some brain fog, and low blood pressure.
At the 2 months mark these symptoms were all much milder than in the begining. But I'm left with relatively loud Tinnitus (started at the 1.5 month mark), mild constant dizziness, with some episodes (especially in bed before sleep) where tinnitus and dizziness get stronger.
I mostly follow a low carb (not keto) diet, intermittent fasting and loads of supplementation: B-complex, D, C, Omega 3, bromelain, tumeric, nattokinase, lions mane, ginkgo biloba. I also do moderate intensity exercises 4 times a week (funny enough I don't have exercise intolerance).
My vitamins D and C were low right after I recovered from the acute phase (when symptoms started)
------------end of context--------------
Mild brain fog was always there from the beginning, I'm a researcher and I use my brain intensively to work, so I'm really sensitive to even mild brain fog. My ability to visualize complex concepts is definitely impaired, a bit of memory issues and attention deficit as well. But I could still function normally, follow normal conversations, read and write emails, etc..
My sleeping isn't bad, 7-8 hours a day, but since I'd have a hard time sleeping in time (11:30PM), yesterday I tried out 5mg of Melatonin.
Melatonin seems to have lowered my BP during sleep (no measurements though), I'd wake up a bit dizzy with low heart rate (my sleep HR is 50, I saw it going down to 42 this night) sometimes during last night. In the morning I was a bit sleepy, but after waking up and having shower my mild brain fog seems to have just gone!
It was the first time in 4 months I could visualize very clearly and quickly in my mind whatever I wanted to. Like complex diagrams and reason visually about them (for my work), places like my mom's house in details. The feeling is very good!!!
I'll lower my Melatonin dosage though for the next few days, due to waking up dizzy, and see what happens
------ Update 11th April 2024 ------
I halved my melatonin dosage from 5mg to 2.5mg but I got the same side effects, dizziness during the night, I did not get a good sleep while on melatonin. I'll stop for a week and try 1mg again
2024.03.28 16:47 -PumpKyn- Exact Sphinx date for everyone!!
 | Okay… to understand this… I have added in my previous link to my post on the Great Pyramid/Giza Complex... so that people with zero astronomy skills should be able to understand this one too submitted by -PumpKyn- to AlternativeHistory [link] [comments] I have not found some pretty, sparkly stars in the sky in the shape of a Lion and made up some numbers or random connections This is not Numerology. This is Applied Physics I won't be responding to anyone who has not taken the time to read it because my answer after that is... Download the software and TEST IT for yourself and then get back to me If points need to be clarified or even if you have found something that can be added... I have no problem whatsoever doing that so just let me know Bottom line is the carbon dating is wrong You absolutely need to read this link first… to be able to follow why I’m giving the date that I am for the Sphinx (the logic behind the physics) and for you to have any idea of how astronomy works (if you don't know) and how exact it is or I guarantee you will probably bring up points or ask questions that are already explained/answered in this post, including how they did it ie. the tool they used This is it Giza - Great Pyramid - May 30th 22020BC : ^^^ Read it people Using this information.... https://preview.redd.it/yakqgyfbqzqc1.png?width=1157&format=png&auto=webp&s=b200e5abc91336e2fb93f96a4f0fc76d9666756b The 26 degrees identifies a point in the sky over the North Pole (northern hemisphere) I'm going to suggest the base of the Great Pyramid and Sphinx was planned/built on the date I'll give you using the 26 degree measurement from the hole in the Sphinx head The Great Pyramid is built in layers (I think that's obvious) The Sphinx has been built/planned first as it was required (survey point) to get the Great Pyramid dimensions https://preview.redd.it/8hxz8wgvuzqc1.png?width=1692&format=png&auto=webp&s=d7e5f511ce434563732ffb27bbdbb2c661210606 17th August -25,020 Regulus is at 26 ° in Leo at 90 ° (due East) THIS is their base measurement for the entire complex https://preview.redd.it/0097bx0ge3rc1.png?width=1923&format=png&auto=webp&s=97681f9877f46f45aded554574ace0487e7c2249 Again - measuring from the Sphinx hole - the next pole star that's come up due north 26 degrees for that Great Pyramid base alignment is....Circitores in the constellation (Little Dog) RE. my previous post I'll just mention this ... the Asterism is in Taurus (Bull) The Rising Sign ie. next sign coming up due East is in Canis Minor (Little Dog)This is the first pole star they've used for alignment North https://preview.redd.it/vg3h4iemf3rc1.png?width=1948&format=png&auto=webp&s=59ae80896afa8bae00475f8256b2e41fe3bb91f7 The whole complex was then completed/added to over a 3,000 year period (I'll clarify this comment... Im sure more was added to the entire complex... I specifically mean the Great Pyramid itself. I haven't looked at Menkaure but I will) Then they've eventually measured from the Great Pyramid North to the apex - Polaris (the upper layes) From my other post.... https://preview.redd.it/z2mfgtkymkrc1.png?width=1020&format=png&auto=webp&s=feb964e415c3c041d0c0f4c194c3f1841e90532c https://preview.redd.it/9h97vfw2idrc1.png?width=1264&format=png&auto=webp&s=28d4c51c995a2a6ed0c81ccea08e54914c934b17 https://preview.redd.it/tlig8brqinrc1.png?width=507&format=png&auto=webp&s=f2c65997956844a73f5f4a74610e89586e48cbd2 So that is what they've done re. the above graphic... they've used Circitores for the bottom layer first ie. north All the Great Pyramid dimensions correspond with the graphics, star placements and dimensions using this approach of mathematical standard This is how they've determined the levels and dimensions of the Great Pyramid https://preview.redd.it/xw94aa2g82sc1.png?width=1600&format=png&auto=webp&s=afa751e34982813b7622bf2f9b2d97b22936728d End date of build 30/31th May - 22020 https://preview.redd.it/8tm2yakxh3rc1.png?width=1924&format=png&auto=webp&s=4ac2951fcfdbedcf9dfde380cdb7608391b198c9 All based around this Asterism https://preview.redd.it/y6rvkgzr83rc1.png?width=456&format=png&auto=webp&s=b1b83a48e0605e6d4bf566666035a5a009c3ceeb So YES the Sphinx was a Lion and is a monument to the SunJust as the Great Pyramid is a monument to the Moon Edit: Courtesy of a comment by a poster I've added this in to explain something... The Sphinx does align with the Sun at equinox however...You cannot simply find the equinoxes without finding North/South (equinox appear twice per annum... north/south appears every night... lining up north/south automatically lines up east/west - obvious you would use North/South first) And the Great Pyramid has specific measurements that are accurately evidenced in these astronomical calculations This is not an "out there" guess Chances of it being wrong are about zero (especially when you take into account the Great Pyramid) Astronomical calculations are more precise than a fingerprint From a comment below another edit RE: Carbon Dating... the results in the post are based on geometry, physics and rocks in situ which really is absolute and difficult to argue against So if anything is going to be wrong (nobody's fault because we do our best with what we have) but it will definitely be carbon dating before this because carbon dating is based on organic material As soon it's contaminated - ie. Younger Dryas - it's useless or we're just guessing (added this to the comment) Edit: I havent read all the comments. I believe there's a few haters in there (always is 🙄 ) So let me address any and all of you with this comment This is not about pride and ego and us being wrong This is about simply saying ... we thought we knew It's not a big deal... it's a discovery It's also likely why they were building temples on top of temples... ie. the stars were changing Read that other post (if you still haven't) because it'll give you enough of the basics Learn about it first Ive made a presentation. Investigate it. Learn something This is rock in situ, geometry & physics You CAN test it yourself... so go for it! And then use the knowledge to make your own discoveriesJMHO Archeoastronomy should be major unit when it comes to curriculum and Archeology and Ancient Architecture I've given you a tool for free... so if you're working on something but are struggling with it... feel free to message me and I'm happy to have a look at it and for what it's worth I'll give you my opinion Cheers! Edit: I just thought I should bring this to everyone's attention... visually in the Sphinx/Great pyramid diagram (top) the 26 degrees angle on the GP is shown drawn to the right ie. facing East)... that angle actually appears on the North side of the GP I felt I needed to clarify that because otherwise it may be seen to be an error or deceiving in some way but it doesnt make any difference to finding the point in the sky Those of you with an avid interest in this will understand what I'm explaining here This quick diagram might help but I will update asap with a more representative graphic as I have found another alignment that also consolidates the importance and reference to how/why they've found and used 26 degrees in the sky https://preview.redd.it/7t7i9rl9xmuc1.png?width=403&format=png&auto=webp&s=316cd21453ea2d9106e1393cba8345a37b69e978 |
2024.03.24 11:54 JohannGoethe On the problem of the D21 symbol: 𓂋 = R phonetic (Champollion, 133A/1822) and the V1 symbol: 𓍢 = number 100 (Young, 137A/1818) vs the V1 symbol: 𓍢 = 100, letter R, and R phonetic (Thims, A67/2022) issue?
 | Abstract submitted by JohannGoethe to NeoEgypto [link] [comments] (add) Overview In 153A (c.1802), Johann Ackerblad, supposedly, had conjectured that the E23 symbol: 𓃭, of a lion 🦁 lying down, or the demotic script equivalent of the lion, made the L or LO sound phonetic, in Egyptian. Young comments on this: “The lion corresponds to the LO of Åkerblad; a lion being always expressed by a similar character in the manuscripts; an oblique line crossed standing for the body, and an erect line for the tail: this was probably read not LO but OLE.”In 1815 (140A), Thomas Young, had ventured the following decodings: https://preview.redd.it/9ms3gql5g9qc1.jpg?width=1613&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=7a3e02f1e85cc87195fdb9f822e0bd06f5db0946 On 10 Feb 137A (1818), Young, in his letter to William Bankes, asking him to seek out a specific list of hieroglyphic examples while in Egypt, decoded the spiral, i.e. V1 𓍢 in Gardiner signs, or possibly V7 𓏲 in Young’s mind, as the character that is equal to 100 in Egyptian numerals; although he did not know what the symbol was. In 133A (1822), Jean Champollion, building on Young’s models, decoded the Alexander and the Cleopatra cartouches as follows, wherein we see that he has the D21 symbol 𓂋, considered to be a mouth 👄, shown as the R sound phonetic: https://preview.redd.it/41qmtqvfg9qc1.jpg?width=1530&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=471b94a48924810a2cd41150e251ae8ab6970b0b The following shows the same image, in fuller view, reversed in its original view, where we see the mouth symbol: 𓂋 and the number 100 symbol: 𓍢 on the same wall: https://preview.redd.it/9ho6erqke9qc1.jpg?width=1284&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=49021d257ea33adf4635d4060f9f0a977969f283 On 9 Mar A67 (2022), LibbThims, discerned, while writing the “Egyptian mathematics” article, posted: here, that the spiral character 𓏲 of the 100-valued number tags, of Tomb U-j, is the parent character of the Phoenician R and Greek rho ρ, value: 100, namely: 𓏲 » 𐤓 » ρ » R in letter evolution; see also: “legged rho”, in Jeffery’s epigraphic table, and odd-looking Attica “red crown rho” (2680A/-725). At this point, we have two conflicting characters, namely the mouth and the ram horn as glyphs as potential hieroglyphic types for the R phonetic:
https://preview.redd.it/64pnojxmc9qc1.jpg?width=2160&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=06308634da3e579159bee06d559198d9cf0402c5 The following diagram shows the spiral 100 character with two of the early Greek letter forms, overlaid: https://preview.redd.it/sen296r1n9qc1.jpg?width=1185&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=ba8e1459635584c154692ac10a2dcb30794d2af5 Accordingly, this single conflicting issue, not to mention the growing list of incorrectly decoded hieroglyphic phonetics, entails that the entire field of so-called “modern Egyptology” is based on a false phonetic platform, aka “lion phonetics”, as the Sacy-Young-Champollion cartouche Chinese foreign name reduced phonetic methodology seems to be, in principle, and therefore in need of 90% overhaul and re-do, from the EAN ground floor up again. Posts
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2024.03.20 18:50 LordIlthari The Dragon Princess Chapter 17: Flail of God Part 1
To say the fight had left everyone, and especially the cavern, a mess, would be putting it lightly. The floor was now quickly thawing mud, everyone was covered in mud and blood, and multiple sections of the cavern had been collapsed, weaponized, or otherwise misplaced. It was fixable, with enough magic, but that was something none of the royals had the time or energy for. Sera limped down the hill with the pair of humans in tow, and they washed the blood and mud from themselves in the river. Leon took the time to bind their wounds, and then the exhausted trio found a sufficiently large tree to flop to sleep under. Sera covered the humans with her wings for warmth, and the trio promptly fell asleep.
The prince of the power of the air caught the wind, and swept it along a course for wicked ends. It blew into the kingdom, where Alfred, father and king, walked under his own cloak of illusions. He drew all his magic within himself, and appeared as nothing but a man, though all his senses were keen. So when the wind was delivered him, he smelled blood upon it. He smelled his daughter’s blood, and a blood most potent, strong with magic, as strong as his own if not stronger. Blood had been shed, a clash of magic, terrible and mighty. He turned at once, and began to run. Leagues flew by under mighty strides, as he moved swifter than any man could have, for even in this mortal guise he was still mighty. Those who saw his back would have said he ran like a man with all Hell behind him. Those who saw his eyes would have said he ran like a man with all Hell before him, and every intention of conquering it.
The trio of royals rose the next day somewhat awkwardly. Not least of all because the humans woke up long before the somewhat slothful dragoness. Leon briefly tried to lift the wing covering him, found he didn’t quite have the leverage, and gave up. He was going to have to miss the sunrise. When Seramis finally did awaken, she paused for a moment before moving, and checked to see if the humans were in a position where her rising wasn’t going to dump them on the ground unceremoniously. She checked under her left wing, and saw Cass’s eyes snap open. The two stared at each other for a moment.
“So, are you going to try to kill me again, or are we good now?” Sera asked, breaking the silence.
“I don’t currently plan on it.” Cassandra replied.
Seramis sighed. That was going to the best she could get. She checked on Leon, and nudged him slightly with her snout to rouse him. She pulled her head back as the prince snapped awake with his hand on his knife. She sighed. “Do all humans wake up this violently?”
“Only when confronted with a dragon six inches from their face.” Leon admitted.
“You’re the one using me as pillow and blanket, so get your instincts under control. You’re hardly a prey animal anyways.” Sera grumbled, and then got up. She was sore, she was very, very sore. Her head ached, her back ached, her tail really ached, and in general she felt somewhat like a ball of yarn a lion had started playing with. She wasn’t sure how she hurt more now after the fight than she had in it, but that was just how life worked.
She needed a drink, and a meal. She practically flopped down at the riverside and began to drink from it, keeping a close eye on the water. The dragon appeared unusually flat, pressed low to the ground to avoid casting a shadow onto the water. Her tail coiled beside her and she winced as the movement agitated her wounds. When she spied a fish, her tail struck like a viper, a particularly drunk and injured viper. The fish escaped. Sera sighed. Bigger game was going to be exhausting to take, though she probably would be able to eat an entire deer.
Cass sat next to her, cupping her own hands to drink. The two remained near to one another, and Sera tried again for the next fish swimming big, and failed. This was growing irritating, and she growled slightly in frustration. She watched Cass remove her bandages, and reach into her cloak. The young queen’s hands were essentially two massive bruises, her wrists were covered in small wounds, and there was still a nasty gash on her leg. She pulled out a silver cup, drew in river water, and cast.
“Phoolana.”
“Theek karo.”
“Ateet.”
The water overflowed its bounds, and ran over her palms and wrists. She breathed a sigh of relief as the bruises on her hands faded, and ugly cuts across her wrists knit to fine, white lines. Sera watched, and saw how many fine white lines there were across her hands and forearms. She’d fought exclusively with blood casting during their battle. The many white lines said it wasn’t just because a lack of water. She cast again and mended her leg. Sera tried and failed to catch another fish. The rumbling that followed might have been annoyance, and it might have been an empty stomach.
“If you’ll allow, I could try and mend some of your injuries.” Cass proposed, slightly awkwardly. It was understandable, it was an awkward situation.
“Go for it.” Sera replied. “I can’t exactly fish like this, and I don’t actually know any healing magic.”
Leon raised an eyebrow at that. “Given everything else I’ve seen you do with magic, I’m somewhat surprised at that. I’d figure with as much shapechanging as you do, healing would be fairly simple. It’s just sort of shapeshifting back into an uninjured state.”
“Totally different schools of magic.” Sera replied, scratching a small diagram into the sand by the river. “Shapechanging is a subset of illusions. It’s just a full five-senses illusion, one powerful enough to deceive inanimate objects, and of course the one making it. Healing magic is more closely associated with, depending on how you approach it, chronomancy or more commonly alchemy.” She drew a hieroglyph for “mind” on one side, with “shape” extending out from it. On the other she drew a symbol for “Alchemy” with “Healing” extending out from it.
“Right, like you’re not a chronomancer.” Cassandra mused sarcastically.
“I’m not, that was basically one step away from just being primal magic.” Sera half admitted, half protested.
“I don’t understand any of this.” Leon sighed in his ignorance.
“Primal magic is the oldest form, raw will and spiritual energy inflicting a change on the mental or material world.” Cass explained, “Spirit” to the diagram, above the rest, then two lines leading into “mental” and “material”. “Sera’s magic uses the mental world, manipulating it, creating illusions, changing shapes, and conjuring from the world of Forms. Mine works by directly influencing the material world, transmuting matter, evoking existing laws of nature, and producing permanent changes. Her approach is more versatile both in what it can do and how she can do it, mine is more limited, but more efficient in terms of energy use and produces effects that can continue without continual application of energy.”
Leon heard this brief lecture on magic, and looked upwards. The two magicians stared for a moment. “What are you doing?” Sera asked.
“Well, that all went very much over my head, but perhaps I can understand it better if I trace its path through the clouds.” Leon replied.
“Gah, the wyrmling version then. She changes things, I make things appear to change. Once a spell of mine stops, things go back to normal. So I could shapechange into a healthier version of myself, but every single injury would be back the moment I stopped maintaining the spell.”
“You could have just led with that.” Leon remarked.
“Well yes, but then you wouldn’t have understood it.” Cass replied.
“I didn’t understand anyways.”
“Can’t fault us for trying. I swear, the amount of blood that flows to one of a man’s heads must truly starve the other of all nutrition.”
Sera blinked. “I’m pretty sure he has only one head.”
“No, his voice is too deep for there to only be one.” Cassandra replied, to Sera’s ongoing confusion.
“Returning to the point at hand, you can do healing magic.” Leon reiterated.
“Yes, but I also understand if you don’t exactly trust me enough to-”
“Go for it.” Sera interrupted, drawing both human’s attention. “I’m fairly certain if you still wanted to kill me you’d have done it last night. That water pistol of yours, or that lightning ball, either one of those would kill me with a solid hit, and it would have been trivial for you to cast that while I was sleeping and kill me.” The dragonness explained, point kind, even if her tone was perhaps a bit less so. “And, I’m very sore and could use the help.”
Cass paused for a moment, considered, and smiled. “Well, you are capable of being sensible. Alright. I’ve never had to undo my own work, so this might take a few casts.” She instinctively went for her rings, but they had been destroyed in the past battle. “Leonidas, would you kindly loan me your knife?”
Leon’s hand went to the knife, then he paused. “You lost quite a bit of blood in that last fight. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“It’s not.” Sera added, expression concerned. “As efficient as blood casting can be, with as much as you used, it’s probably not wise for you to use it for maybe a week, unless humans have far more blood than I thought they did. Elijah, would you confirm?”
The familiar pulled himself out of his shadow, and politely bowed to Cassandra. “It’s a little more complicated with her majesty, but broadly, yes. Even though medicine isn’t my specialty, I do know enough to know that kind of casting can result in anemia, and given how sunny the climate is here, being that pale isn’t healthy.”
“I’ve always been pale.” Cassandra replied, arms folded over one another. “It’s just part of being from the north.”
“You’re pale enough to be mistaken for an Inuit in spring.” Elijah responded with a hint of snark. When he saw nobody got the point, he sighed. “Humans who live in the very far north, where the sun rises once in summer and sets once in winter. Regardless, you should probably avoid any blood casting for a while, especially if you’ve always been this pale.”
“You’ve bled enough Cass. No need to bleed more for my sake.” Sera concurred. Cassandra sighed.
“It will be less effective.”
“I’ll manage. No sense in one of us hurting themselves more than they can help another.”
“Hypocrite.” Cass snorted. “Your tail shows it.”
“I said exactly what I said.” Sera replied, though she did regard her wounded tail. “That said, that’s the other reason you should probably avoid blood casting around me. There’s something off with your blood, it’s a bit dangerous for me to be around.”
“Demigod. I suppose the dragons really are the reason why Olympus is silent.” Cass replied with a shrug. “Alright, though let’s start with that. It’s not that different from a wolf bite. Just somewhat larger.” She examined the wound Sera had left on herself carefully, and consulted briefly with Elijah on the finer details of dragon anatomy. Then, she carefully selected her components, and began to cast.
“Jo kiya gaya hai use poorvavat karo.”
“Bhugataan kee gaee keemat vaapas karen.”
“Ghaayal maans ko theek karo.”
The water gleamed with light, and Cassandra carefully applied it to each individual section of the wound, knitting it back piece by piece. Her hands were steady, and her gaze intense. She enacted the healing with the care of a surgeon, even with a far more effective instrument. Soon, the wounds knit together, but there was still a problem. The scales around the injury, once a glossy black, were now a desaturated white color, a bit like dirty snow.
“No, no no. That can’t be right. Hold on I’m so sorry, I’ll fix this, just give me a moment. I must have made some mistake I will fix this.” Cassandra rapidly apologized, fingers shifting through the air nervously. Leon observed them carefully, it really was just fidgeting and not more casting by signs. Sera examined her tail carefully, then coiled it and struck. It moved just as swiftly as before her injury.
“Seems you did a great job. Pain’s gone, scales are back, and it doesn’t feel any weaker. Certainly better work than I could do.”
“Well yes, but clearly it’s not complete.” Cass protested. “I brought your scales back wrong.”
“No, this is pretty normal. Damaged scales grow back without color. I think I asked Elijah about why once, though I don’t remember why.”
“Conserves resources by not needing to produce the additional proteins to create pigmentation, important for socialization among a highly competitive solitary species, primarily acts as a visual social signal for territorial and mating disputes to discourage unfit specimens or signal to juiveniles to not risk proceeding to additional stages of escalation.” Elijah replied.
“Ah, that’s why I forgot, he put it that way.” Sera replied with a faint laugh. “Short version?”
“Color is expensive, and it helped tell other dragons not to meddle with you before your species had language.” Elijah sighed.
“I see where you get your habit of speaking too much.” Leon remarked with a faint smile. Sera shot him a glare, and the smile widened.
“That to say, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Sera explained. “It’s just how dragons heal. If it bothers me I can certainly cover it up with an illusion. Not my first scar, probably not the last.”
“I see. Well then, if you don’t consider me a failure, your eyes, ears, and internals could also use attention. There’s also probably some work to be done soothing the damage caused to your muscular systems and any microfractures caused by the electricity.” Cassandra considered. “Likewsise, bruising, microfactures, muscle damage, probably some organ damage, and also burns for you Leon. I’ll address those as well in a moment, but Sera has certainly suffered more damage. Mostly because I was actually trying to kill her.”
Leon wasn’t sure how to feel about that statement. Cassandra had done a remarkably good job of nearly killing him for someone who wasn’t trying to kill him. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful she held back, offended at the fact his opponent hadn’t fought him all out, or frightened at Cassandra’s definition of nonlethal. He decided to keep his mouth shut for a while, and as Cassandra prepared her next spell, he changed the subject.
“You mentioned this wasn’t your first scar, but I haven’t seen any other ones on you. Already using an illusion?” He asked.
“No, just here.” Sera replied, lifting one of her wings and revealing a patch of white scales. “Got overly enthusiastic with a major shed during one of my growth spurts and took off more than I should have. Bit embarrassing to be honest.”
“I’m surprised I never noticed that before.” Leon admitted.
“Ah, so you’re the sort of man who spends time looking at women’s armpits.” Cass replied, her tone full of feigned accusation.
“What?” Sera asked, once again very confused by the worldly queen.
“Oh it’s just another odd quirk of humans, particularly the men. They find odd things interesting, such as one lord of mine who insists all his house slaves go barefoot.” Cass explained with a sort of wicked glee barely contained behind a professional demeanor. “You know, perverts.”
“Hey!” Leon shouted, sincerely hoping he wasn’t turning red.
“Well he really must be if he’s looking at me with you around.” Sera remarked, and Cass laughed raucously.
“My, my dragoness, you’re a smoother seductress than the prince of Corinth. Aphrodite weeps.” This statement produced an expression neither Cassandra nor Leonidas could have ever imagined a dragon making. Both were in stitches, as Seramis hid her head under her wing.
“This is why I didn’t interact with humans much before. You’re all very queer.”
“Well, Hellenes certainly are.” Cass snorted, clearly enjoying this flavor of humor. “Then again so are you, given you’ve been turning yourself into a man so regularly.”
“I’m not though, the form I take is more akin to what I might look like when I’m fully grown.” Seramis replied with a slight huff. “I was counting on the fact humans can’t tell a dragon from a dragoness whatsoever, and clearly it worked.”
“True, helps that you’re apparently going to have quite the deep voice, perhaps you’re a bit manly for a dragoness.”
“It’s really not that deep by dragon standards, it’s simply how we are.”
“Ah, perhaps that’s why the good prince is interested eh?” Cass replied, producing further spluttering from Leon. “Oh, is it untrue? Then do tell, which of us is fairer?” She teased.
Leon heard that, and promptly turned on his heel. “Nope, nope. Nope!” He walked away at a brisk pace. “That question is dangerous enough with ordinary women, I’m not answering it anywhere near either of you two!” With that, Leon vanished out of range of Cassandra’s teasing, much to the queen’s amusement.
“You’re rather fond of mischief aren’t you?” Sera asked with a carefully neutral tone.
Cass shrugged. “Probably more than a queen aught to be.” Her tone was critical, but her smile was wicked.
A similarly wicked smile spread across Sera’s face. “We are going to do incredible things together.”
Cass cackled. “Let Olympus tremble.”
The trio regrouped to meet back at the entrance to the mountain. Given it was acting as their base, the two magicians set to work mending some of the damage their battle had inflicted. Leon listened as the pair worked and talked shop. The finer details of whatever they were discussing went well over his head, but they seemed to be getting along. He shrugged, consigning himself to never quite understanding magic, but at least not having to worry about the local magicians trying to kill each other again. Then, he felt the wind shift, and something made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Leon had his knife out immediately, and turned. The others noticed his behavior, each prepared. Seramis adopted her adult form, and Cassandra picked up a sharp rock to hold in her palm. Both were on edge, as Leon turned, and looked down the mountain. Someone was coming up it, a human, not mounted on any horse, but wearing armor. He was coming up quickly. “We have a problem.” He reported, and remained heavily on edge. Every instinct told him what was coming up that mountain was dangerous, exceedingly so. Cassandra looked down as well, and frowned. “That’s not one of mine.”
“I’ll deal with it.” Seramis rumbled, and took wing to fly down and meet this latest problem. At this point, she was starting to get annoyed. The sheer number of random visitors interrupting her scheme was getting out of hand. Then, she saw who was coming up the mountain, and relaxed. She knew this shape.
Alfred felt his mouth go dry as he approached the mountain, his old lair, his old home. Here where he and his bride had first raised Seramis, before the home he made them under the castle was finished. He remembered the first day he had come here, digging away at magnetite exposed by the winds, and how he had tunneled deeply to dredge up the bounties of the earth for his family. He remembered the first knights that had come, come in the vain quest to slay him. He knew where they had all been.
He remembered the fear most of all. Not because any of the knights posed a threat to him. They were as wheat before the wildfire. But his daughter would soon be born. She would be in danger. His wrath was kindled by fear, and he turned his eyes towards the distant capital. In time they called him the good king, for he had discovered the cruelty of the old and undone it. To be a good father, he had become a good king. But in his private moments, he remembered the fear and the wrath that had drawn him out of the lair. He had feared much in these days, since his daughter departed, and now, the smell of her blood had drawn him back.
Where a dragoness he did not know came down from his home, reeking of his daughter’s blood. It was not Malphus, that at least was some comfort, but clearly a servant of the dark lord. The marks of recent injury were clear, there had been a battle. The wounds on her tail, those were inflicted by a dragon’s maw, and recently. They were freshly healed, still stark white against the dark armor about them. His daughter had returned to her childhood home. She had not departed. Something else had taken it. Someone else had taken his daughter.
For a moment, that realization paralyzed him. The king was frozen in utter terror. But dragons do not freeze. His fire flared, anger boiling over. This dragoness, this servant of evil, had hurt his daughter, had done it in his own home. She had disrupted his kingdom, tried to incite a war, threatened his honor, harmed his friend’s child, taken his home. She. Had. Hurt. His. Daughter.
She was dead.
The king moved, all his strength flooding into the shape not suited for him, and he leapt. He did not have wings, but he was still mighty, and with a bound he cleared the distance between the dragoness and himself. His fist led the way, and there was a crack as he sent scales flying from the dragoness’s jaw. The disorienting blow, combined with the unexpected source, stunned the dragoness. Her eyes suddenly went wide with confusion and terror. He could almost sense her thoughts, wondering how a mere human could have done this.
“fflangellwch nef a daear”
“Gadewch i'm cysgod ddod â braw.
“Fy llid fel tân Uffern.”
A second sun rose over Achaea. There was a sound like the world screaming. Then there was a clap like thunder that threw Leonidas and Casandra back. Both came to their senses in a world that had suddenly transformed into Hell. It was so hot they could barely breathe. Leon dropped his knife, the blade red-hot and hilt searing his flesh. He looked out and saw something like a mountain of ash and smoke. He had heard stories of volcanoes, and now saw one composed of detritus, the winds stoking flames as they sucked into a funnel-shaped body, then erupted out in a pillar of ash that spread above them and turned the bright day dark as twilight.
He saw Seramis half-sunken into the stone which gleamed brilliantly as gemstones and flowed like water around her. She stared upwards, eyes wide into the heart of the flame. All around her was utter devastation. The forest was ablaze. The river was boiling. The mountain was melting. The gold lining the wall gleamed like fireflies and ran like spilled wine.
Seramis looked up at the pillar of smoke and watched it part around its master. Flame incarnate, veiled in scarlet scale, looked down, terrible in his wrath. His wings beat a hurricane in the storm of ash he had conjured, and the world shimmered around him like a mirage, like a nightmare given form. Above the fire’s head was a crown of pure gold, set with seventy eyes that gleamed like gems of every color. The flame, her father, spoke. He did not raise his voice, but his wrath silenced the world about it.
“I am the flail of God. If you had not sinned, God would not have set me upon you.”
submitted by LordIlthari to The_Ilthari_Library [link] [comments]
The prince of the power of the air caught the wind, and swept it along a course for wicked ends. It blew into the kingdom, where Alfred, father and king, walked under his own cloak of illusions. He drew all his magic within himself, and appeared as nothing but a man, though all his senses were keen. So when the wind was delivered him, he smelled blood upon it. He smelled his daughter’s blood, and a blood most potent, strong with magic, as strong as his own if not stronger. Blood had been shed, a clash of magic, terrible and mighty. He turned at once, and began to run. Leagues flew by under mighty strides, as he moved swifter than any man could have, for even in this mortal guise he was still mighty. Those who saw his back would have said he ran like a man with all Hell behind him. Those who saw his eyes would have said he ran like a man with all Hell before him, and every intention of conquering it.
The trio of royals rose the next day somewhat awkwardly. Not least of all because the humans woke up long before the somewhat slothful dragoness. Leon briefly tried to lift the wing covering him, found he didn’t quite have the leverage, and gave up. He was going to have to miss the sunrise. When Seramis finally did awaken, she paused for a moment before moving, and checked to see if the humans were in a position where her rising wasn’t going to dump them on the ground unceremoniously. She checked under her left wing, and saw Cass’s eyes snap open. The two stared at each other for a moment.
“So, are you going to try to kill me again, or are we good now?” Sera asked, breaking the silence.
“I don’t currently plan on it.” Cassandra replied.
Seramis sighed. That was going to the best she could get. She checked on Leon, and nudged him slightly with her snout to rouse him. She pulled her head back as the prince snapped awake with his hand on his knife. She sighed. “Do all humans wake up this violently?”
“Only when confronted with a dragon six inches from their face.” Leon admitted.
“You’re the one using me as pillow and blanket, so get your instincts under control. You’re hardly a prey animal anyways.” Sera grumbled, and then got up. She was sore, she was very, very sore. Her head ached, her back ached, her tail really ached, and in general she felt somewhat like a ball of yarn a lion had started playing with. She wasn’t sure how she hurt more now after the fight than she had in it, but that was just how life worked.
She needed a drink, and a meal. She practically flopped down at the riverside and began to drink from it, keeping a close eye on the water. The dragon appeared unusually flat, pressed low to the ground to avoid casting a shadow onto the water. Her tail coiled beside her and she winced as the movement agitated her wounds. When she spied a fish, her tail struck like a viper, a particularly drunk and injured viper. The fish escaped. Sera sighed. Bigger game was going to be exhausting to take, though she probably would be able to eat an entire deer.
Cass sat next to her, cupping her own hands to drink. The two remained near to one another, and Sera tried again for the next fish swimming big, and failed. This was growing irritating, and she growled slightly in frustration. She watched Cass remove her bandages, and reach into her cloak. The young queen’s hands were essentially two massive bruises, her wrists were covered in small wounds, and there was still a nasty gash on her leg. She pulled out a silver cup, drew in river water, and cast.
“Phoolana.”
“Theek karo.”
“Ateet.”
The water overflowed its bounds, and ran over her palms and wrists. She breathed a sigh of relief as the bruises on her hands faded, and ugly cuts across her wrists knit to fine, white lines. Sera watched, and saw how many fine white lines there were across her hands and forearms. She’d fought exclusively with blood casting during their battle. The many white lines said it wasn’t just because a lack of water. She cast again and mended her leg. Sera tried and failed to catch another fish. The rumbling that followed might have been annoyance, and it might have been an empty stomach.
“If you’ll allow, I could try and mend some of your injuries.” Cass proposed, slightly awkwardly. It was understandable, it was an awkward situation.
“Go for it.” Sera replied. “I can’t exactly fish like this, and I don’t actually know any healing magic.”
Leon raised an eyebrow at that. “Given everything else I’ve seen you do with magic, I’m somewhat surprised at that. I’d figure with as much shapechanging as you do, healing would be fairly simple. It’s just sort of shapeshifting back into an uninjured state.”
“Totally different schools of magic.” Sera replied, scratching a small diagram into the sand by the river. “Shapechanging is a subset of illusions. It’s just a full five-senses illusion, one powerful enough to deceive inanimate objects, and of course the one making it. Healing magic is more closely associated with, depending on how you approach it, chronomancy or more commonly alchemy.” She drew a hieroglyph for “mind” on one side, with “shape” extending out from it. On the other she drew a symbol for “Alchemy” with “Healing” extending out from it.
“Right, like you’re not a chronomancer.” Cassandra mused sarcastically.
“I’m not, that was basically one step away from just being primal magic.” Sera half admitted, half protested.
“I don’t understand any of this.” Leon sighed in his ignorance.
“Primal magic is the oldest form, raw will and spiritual energy inflicting a change on the mental or material world.” Cass explained, “Spirit” to the diagram, above the rest, then two lines leading into “mental” and “material”. “Sera’s magic uses the mental world, manipulating it, creating illusions, changing shapes, and conjuring from the world of Forms. Mine works by directly influencing the material world, transmuting matter, evoking existing laws of nature, and producing permanent changes. Her approach is more versatile both in what it can do and how she can do it, mine is more limited, but more efficient in terms of energy use and produces effects that can continue without continual application of energy.”
Leon heard this brief lecture on magic, and looked upwards. The two magicians stared for a moment. “What are you doing?” Sera asked.
“Well, that all went very much over my head, but perhaps I can understand it better if I trace its path through the clouds.” Leon replied.
“Gah, the wyrmling version then. She changes things, I make things appear to change. Once a spell of mine stops, things go back to normal. So I could shapechange into a healthier version of myself, but every single injury would be back the moment I stopped maintaining the spell.”
“You could have just led with that.” Leon remarked.
“Well yes, but then you wouldn’t have understood it.” Cass replied.
“I didn’t understand anyways.”
“Can’t fault us for trying. I swear, the amount of blood that flows to one of a man’s heads must truly starve the other of all nutrition.”
Sera blinked. “I’m pretty sure he has only one head.”
“No, his voice is too deep for there to only be one.” Cassandra replied, to Sera’s ongoing confusion.
“Returning to the point at hand, you can do healing magic.” Leon reiterated.
“Yes, but I also understand if you don’t exactly trust me enough to-”
“Go for it.” Sera interrupted, drawing both human’s attention. “I’m fairly certain if you still wanted to kill me you’d have done it last night. That water pistol of yours, or that lightning ball, either one of those would kill me with a solid hit, and it would have been trivial for you to cast that while I was sleeping and kill me.” The dragonness explained, point kind, even if her tone was perhaps a bit less so. “And, I’m very sore and could use the help.”
Cass paused for a moment, considered, and smiled. “Well, you are capable of being sensible. Alright. I’ve never had to undo my own work, so this might take a few casts.” She instinctively went for her rings, but they had been destroyed in the past battle. “Leonidas, would you kindly loan me your knife?”
Leon’s hand went to the knife, then he paused. “You lost quite a bit of blood in that last fight. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“It’s not.” Sera added, expression concerned. “As efficient as blood casting can be, with as much as you used, it’s probably not wise for you to use it for maybe a week, unless humans have far more blood than I thought they did. Elijah, would you confirm?”
The familiar pulled himself out of his shadow, and politely bowed to Cassandra. “It’s a little more complicated with her majesty, but broadly, yes. Even though medicine isn’t my specialty, I do know enough to know that kind of casting can result in anemia, and given how sunny the climate is here, being that pale isn’t healthy.”
“I’ve always been pale.” Cassandra replied, arms folded over one another. “It’s just part of being from the north.”
“You’re pale enough to be mistaken for an Inuit in spring.” Elijah responded with a hint of snark. When he saw nobody got the point, he sighed. “Humans who live in the very far north, where the sun rises once in summer and sets once in winter. Regardless, you should probably avoid any blood casting for a while, especially if you’ve always been this pale.”
“You’ve bled enough Cass. No need to bleed more for my sake.” Sera concurred. Cassandra sighed.
“It will be less effective.”
“I’ll manage. No sense in one of us hurting themselves more than they can help another.”
“Hypocrite.” Cass snorted. “Your tail shows it.”
“I said exactly what I said.” Sera replied, though she did regard her wounded tail. “That said, that’s the other reason you should probably avoid blood casting around me. There’s something off with your blood, it’s a bit dangerous for me to be around.”
“Demigod. I suppose the dragons really are the reason why Olympus is silent.” Cass replied with a shrug. “Alright, though let’s start with that. It’s not that different from a wolf bite. Just somewhat larger.” She examined the wound Sera had left on herself carefully, and consulted briefly with Elijah on the finer details of dragon anatomy. Then, she carefully selected her components, and began to cast.
“Jo kiya gaya hai use poorvavat karo.”
“Bhugataan kee gaee keemat vaapas karen.”
“Ghaayal maans ko theek karo.”
The water gleamed with light, and Cassandra carefully applied it to each individual section of the wound, knitting it back piece by piece. Her hands were steady, and her gaze intense. She enacted the healing with the care of a surgeon, even with a far more effective instrument. Soon, the wounds knit together, but there was still a problem. The scales around the injury, once a glossy black, were now a desaturated white color, a bit like dirty snow.
“No, no no. That can’t be right. Hold on I’m so sorry, I’ll fix this, just give me a moment. I must have made some mistake I will fix this.” Cassandra rapidly apologized, fingers shifting through the air nervously. Leon observed them carefully, it really was just fidgeting and not more casting by signs. Sera examined her tail carefully, then coiled it and struck. It moved just as swiftly as before her injury.
“Seems you did a great job. Pain’s gone, scales are back, and it doesn’t feel any weaker. Certainly better work than I could do.”
“Well yes, but clearly it’s not complete.” Cass protested. “I brought your scales back wrong.”
“No, this is pretty normal. Damaged scales grow back without color. I think I asked Elijah about why once, though I don’t remember why.”
“Conserves resources by not needing to produce the additional proteins to create pigmentation, important for socialization among a highly competitive solitary species, primarily acts as a visual social signal for territorial and mating disputes to discourage unfit specimens or signal to juiveniles to not risk proceeding to additional stages of escalation.” Elijah replied.
“Ah, that’s why I forgot, he put it that way.” Sera replied with a faint laugh. “Short version?”
“Color is expensive, and it helped tell other dragons not to meddle with you before your species had language.” Elijah sighed.
“I see where you get your habit of speaking too much.” Leon remarked with a faint smile. Sera shot him a glare, and the smile widened.
“That to say, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Sera explained. “It’s just how dragons heal. If it bothers me I can certainly cover it up with an illusion. Not my first scar, probably not the last.”
“I see. Well then, if you don’t consider me a failure, your eyes, ears, and internals could also use attention. There’s also probably some work to be done soothing the damage caused to your muscular systems and any microfractures caused by the electricity.” Cassandra considered. “Likewsise, bruising, microfactures, muscle damage, probably some organ damage, and also burns for you Leon. I’ll address those as well in a moment, but Sera has certainly suffered more damage. Mostly because I was actually trying to kill her.”
Leon wasn’t sure how to feel about that statement. Cassandra had done a remarkably good job of nearly killing him for someone who wasn’t trying to kill him. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful she held back, offended at the fact his opponent hadn’t fought him all out, or frightened at Cassandra’s definition of nonlethal. He decided to keep his mouth shut for a while, and as Cassandra prepared her next spell, he changed the subject.
“You mentioned this wasn’t your first scar, but I haven’t seen any other ones on you. Already using an illusion?” He asked.
“No, just here.” Sera replied, lifting one of her wings and revealing a patch of white scales. “Got overly enthusiastic with a major shed during one of my growth spurts and took off more than I should have. Bit embarrassing to be honest.”
“I’m surprised I never noticed that before.” Leon admitted.
“Ah, so you’re the sort of man who spends time looking at women’s armpits.” Cass replied, her tone full of feigned accusation.
“What?” Sera asked, once again very confused by the worldly queen.
“Oh it’s just another odd quirk of humans, particularly the men. They find odd things interesting, such as one lord of mine who insists all his house slaves go barefoot.” Cass explained with a sort of wicked glee barely contained behind a professional demeanor. “You know, perverts.”
“Hey!” Leon shouted, sincerely hoping he wasn’t turning red.
“Well he really must be if he’s looking at me with you around.” Sera remarked, and Cass laughed raucously.
“My, my dragoness, you’re a smoother seductress than the prince of Corinth. Aphrodite weeps.” This statement produced an expression neither Cassandra nor Leonidas could have ever imagined a dragon making. Both were in stitches, as Seramis hid her head under her wing.
“This is why I didn’t interact with humans much before. You’re all very queer.”
“Well, Hellenes certainly are.” Cass snorted, clearly enjoying this flavor of humor. “Then again so are you, given you’ve been turning yourself into a man so regularly.”
“I’m not though, the form I take is more akin to what I might look like when I’m fully grown.” Seramis replied with a slight huff. “I was counting on the fact humans can’t tell a dragon from a dragoness whatsoever, and clearly it worked.”
“True, helps that you’re apparently going to have quite the deep voice, perhaps you’re a bit manly for a dragoness.”
“It’s really not that deep by dragon standards, it’s simply how we are.”
“Ah, perhaps that’s why the good prince is interested eh?” Cass replied, producing further spluttering from Leon. “Oh, is it untrue? Then do tell, which of us is fairer?” She teased.
Leon heard that, and promptly turned on his heel. “Nope, nope. Nope!” He walked away at a brisk pace. “That question is dangerous enough with ordinary women, I’m not answering it anywhere near either of you two!” With that, Leon vanished out of range of Cassandra’s teasing, much to the queen’s amusement.
“You’re rather fond of mischief aren’t you?” Sera asked with a carefully neutral tone.
Cass shrugged. “Probably more than a queen aught to be.” Her tone was critical, but her smile was wicked.
A similarly wicked smile spread across Sera’s face. “We are going to do incredible things together.”
Cass cackled. “Let Olympus tremble.”
The trio regrouped to meet back at the entrance to the mountain. Given it was acting as their base, the two magicians set to work mending some of the damage their battle had inflicted. Leon listened as the pair worked and talked shop. The finer details of whatever they were discussing went well over his head, but they seemed to be getting along. He shrugged, consigning himself to never quite understanding magic, but at least not having to worry about the local magicians trying to kill each other again. Then, he felt the wind shift, and something made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Leon had his knife out immediately, and turned. The others noticed his behavior, each prepared. Seramis adopted her adult form, and Cassandra picked up a sharp rock to hold in her palm. Both were on edge, as Leon turned, and looked down the mountain. Someone was coming up it, a human, not mounted on any horse, but wearing armor. He was coming up quickly. “We have a problem.” He reported, and remained heavily on edge. Every instinct told him what was coming up that mountain was dangerous, exceedingly so. Cassandra looked down as well, and frowned. “That’s not one of mine.”
“I’ll deal with it.” Seramis rumbled, and took wing to fly down and meet this latest problem. At this point, she was starting to get annoyed. The sheer number of random visitors interrupting her scheme was getting out of hand. Then, she saw who was coming up the mountain, and relaxed. She knew this shape.
Alfred felt his mouth go dry as he approached the mountain, his old lair, his old home. Here where he and his bride had first raised Seramis, before the home he made them under the castle was finished. He remembered the first day he had come here, digging away at magnetite exposed by the winds, and how he had tunneled deeply to dredge up the bounties of the earth for his family. He remembered the first knights that had come, come in the vain quest to slay him. He knew where they had all been.
He remembered the fear most of all. Not because any of the knights posed a threat to him. They were as wheat before the wildfire. But his daughter would soon be born. She would be in danger. His wrath was kindled by fear, and he turned his eyes towards the distant capital. In time they called him the good king, for he had discovered the cruelty of the old and undone it. To be a good father, he had become a good king. But in his private moments, he remembered the fear and the wrath that had drawn him out of the lair. He had feared much in these days, since his daughter departed, and now, the smell of her blood had drawn him back.
Where a dragoness he did not know came down from his home, reeking of his daughter’s blood. It was not Malphus, that at least was some comfort, but clearly a servant of the dark lord. The marks of recent injury were clear, there had been a battle. The wounds on her tail, those were inflicted by a dragon’s maw, and recently. They were freshly healed, still stark white against the dark armor about them. His daughter had returned to her childhood home. She had not departed. Something else had taken it. Someone else had taken his daughter.
For a moment, that realization paralyzed him. The king was frozen in utter terror. But dragons do not freeze. His fire flared, anger boiling over. This dragoness, this servant of evil, had hurt his daughter, had done it in his own home. She had disrupted his kingdom, tried to incite a war, threatened his honor, harmed his friend’s child, taken his home. She. Had. Hurt. His. Daughter.
She was dead.
The king moved, all his strength flooding into the shape not suited for him, and he leapt. He did not have wings, but he was still mighty, and with a bound he cleared the distance between the dragoness and himself. His fist led the way, and there was a crack as he sent scales flying from the dragoness’s jaw. The disorienting blow, combined with the unexpected source, stunned the dragoness. Her eyes suddenly went wide with confusion and terror. He could almost sense her thoughts, wondering how a mere human could have done this.
“fflangellwch nef a daear”
“Gadewch i'm cysgod ddod â braw.
“Fy llid fel tân Uffern.”
A second sun rose over Achaea. There was a sound like the world screaming. Then there was a clap like thunder that threw Leonidas and Casandra back. Both came to their senses in a world that had suddenly transformed into Hell. It was so hot they could barely breathe. Leon dropped his knife, the blade red-hot and hilt searing his flesh. He looked out and saw something like a mountain of ash and smoke. He had heard stories of volcanoes, and now saw one composed of detritus, the winds stoking flames as they sucked into a funnel-shaped body, then erupted out in a pillar of ash that spread above them and turned the bright day dark as twilight.
He saw Seramis half-sunken into the stone which gleamed brilliantly as gemstones and flowed like water around her. She stared upwards, eyes wide into the heart of the flame. All around her was utter devastation. The forest was ablaze. The river was boiling. The mountain was melting. The gold lining the wall gleamed like fireflies and ran like spilled wine.
Seramis looked up at the pillar of smoke and watched it part around its master. Flame incarnate, veiled in scarlet scale, looked down, terrible in his wrath. His wings beat a hurricane in the storm of ash he had conjured, and the world shimmered around him like a mirage, like a nightmare given form. Above the fire’s head was a crown of pure gold, set with seventy eyes that gleamed like gems of every color. The flame, her father, spoke. He did not raise his voice, but his wrath silenced the world about it.
“I am the flail of God. If you had not sinned, God would not have set me upon you.”
2024.03.10 17:27 camdenfella 🍄A punnet of mushrooms if you can you help me turn a tumbler dryer into a speed and timed controlled tumbler!🍄
I grow gourmet mushrooms and I want to use this as a tumbler to mix my substrate bags. I've seen other growers do the same but haven't found any instructions or diagrams to do it. I'm very novice with electrical stuff but can follow instructions. Basically, I want to remove the bits I don't need (fan, heating element and condenser) and create a circuit with just the main motor which spins the drum. I also want to reduce the speed of the drum (I'm hoping an AC speed controller will do this?) and have it so that it will spin for a set duration (e.g. 20 seconds). Can I use a time delay module to do this? I will send a punnet of fine Lion's mane mushrooms to the person who can draw me a circuit for this.
submitted by camdenfella to DIYUK [link] [comments]
2024.03.10 17:23 camdenfella 🍄Free mushrooms if you can you help me turn a tumbler dryer into a speed and timed controlled tumbler!🍄
I grow gourmet mushrooms and I want to use this as a tumbler to mix my substrate bags. I've seen other growers do the same but haven't found any instructions or diagrams to do it. I'm very novice with electrical stuff but can follow instructions. Basically, I want to remove the bits I don't need (fan, heating element and condenser) and create a circuit with just the main motor which spins the drum. I also want to reduce the speed of the drum (I'm hoping an AC speed controller will do this?) and have it so that it will spin for a set duration (e.g. 20 seconds). Can I use a time delay module to do this? I will send a punnet of fine Lion's mane mushrooms to the person who can draw me a circuit for this.
submitted by camdenfella to diyelectronics [link] [comments]
2024.03.03 20:05 misterme987 Advice about Christian private school
I came home this weekend and saw that my little sister, who goes to a Christian private school, had made a poster for a school project arguing against evolution. I don’t want my sister to be indoctrinated into these false beliefs, but neither my parents nor my sister know that I accept evolution/universal common ancestry because I’m worried about their response. Does anyone have advice for how I could push back against this indoctrination, if at all?
Here’s what the poster said (it’s a Venn diagram):
Under “Kinds”: "1. there is variation in a kind but it can never change into another kind "2. kinds are separate and distinct, they do not ever overlap “3. kind[s] cannot interbreed, so, say, a fish-bird could not exist, but a liger (cross between female tiger and male lion) could as they are both felines and cat kind”
Under “Evolution”: "1. one kind can slowly change into another kind "2. all things stem from a com[m]on ancestor "3. Evolution was imagined primarily by Charles Darwin “4. Gradualism is the idea that evolution happens slowly”
In the center of the Venn diagram: "1. all the kinds observed today exist regardless of creation or evolution “2. no one witnessed the beginning”
Edit: I’ve decided to go the route of just trying to get her to think about critical questions, such as how you can distinguish between kinds. Luckily I think she’s going to a real school next year, so no more creationist indoctrination, and hopefully she can break out of the indoctrination she’s already received.
To answer someone’s question about why I think it’s important, it’s because I think she deserves to know the truth, she has a very inquiring mind and is quite smart. Pseudoscientific indoctrination will keep her from reaching her full potential. Not to mention that one type of conspiracy theory often leads to another — I almost went down that rabbit hole myself before the people here convinced me of the validity of evolution, and I don’t want that to happen to my sister.
submitted by misterme987 to DebateEvolution [link] [comments]
Here’s what the poster said (it’s a Venn diagram):
Under “Kinds”: "1. there is variation in a kind but it can never change into another kind "2. kinds are separate and distinct, they do not ever overlap “3. kind[s] cannot interbreed, so, say, a fish-bird could not exist, but a liger (cross between female tiger and male lion) could as they are both felines and cat kind”
Under “Evolution”: "1. one kind can slowly change into another kind "2. all things stem from a com[m]on ancestor "3. Evolution was imagined primarily by Charles Darwin “4. Gradualism is the idea that evolution happens slowly”
In the center of the Venn diagram: "1. all the kinds observed today exist regardless of creation or evolution “2. no one witnessed the beginning”
Edit: I’ve decided to go the route of just trying to get her to think about critical questions, such as how you can distinguish between kinds. Luckily I think she’s going to a real school next year, so no more creationist indoctrination, and hopefully she can break out of the indoctrination she’s already received.
To answer someone’s question about why I think it’s important, it’s because I think she deserves to know the truth, she has a very inquiring mind and is quite smart. Pseudoscientific indoctrination will keep her from reaching her full potential. Not to mention that one type of conspiracy theory often leads to another — I almost went down that rabbit hole myself before the people here convinced me of the validity of evolution, and I don’t want that to happen to my sister.
2024.02.27 03:22 GENERAL_SH1TPOSTER DnD is not a playground for your depraved sexual fantasies.
I don't even know where to start with this.
Larian had to put out a message to stop harassing them over fucking mods? I'll give the community two guesses as to which subgroup of the fandom was responsible for the lion's share of this, though I bet you only need one.
Take a look at Nexus right now. Go to the most popular mods for BG3 of all time. Guess how many mods you have to look through to get to a NSFW mod? 4. It's the 5th mod. The fifth fucking most popular mod of all time is all about making your characters as slutty as possible. The 10th most popular straight up gives your characters "better" naked bodies. Are you goddamn serious? There's even a mod that makes your characters have sex in a way that the actors, whose voices and animations are used, did not consent to.
I have no problem with things being sexual in nature, but go play Being a DIK if you want a goddamn sex game (it has enough reviews that I know a large chunk of you know what this is). Twisting something that is not inherently sexual in nature to BE sexual because you can't control your lust for pixels on a screen is not healthy. It's borderline offensive to the writers.
Writing characters with the depth of personality, nuance, and texture that these characters have is not an easy task. It takes years of practice, reading, revising, editing, and then an unbelievable amount of artistic talent to bring those people to life. To see all that work and think "hehe i wanna see his peen" is reductionist, it undermines their work, and it fucking sucks.
These goddamn degenerates have even harassed the VAs who brought the objects of your sexual desire to life. Poor Neil in particular (voice of Astarion) has received messages that are objectively criminal. Devora (Lae'zel) has gotten them. Jennifer (Shadowheart) has gotten them. Guess who hasn't gotten them to anywhere near the same degree? Wyll's VA. Minthara's VA. The less popular options. The Venn diagram of people overly sexualizing everything in this game and the people who harass Larian and the VAs is nearly a circle.
This has even leaked into non-sexual discussion of the personalities of characters. You cannot maintain the opinion that Astarion bares some guilt for his actions. You cannot suggest that Gale had the faculties to understand the relationship he entered into. You cannot suggest that Shadowheart is actually kind of stupid. You cannot suggest that Karlach should have helped the Elturians. You will be crucified by parasocial wannabe mother figures who need to protect their darling babies.
Not to mention, imagine being wary of sex or it making you uncomfortable, and every space in which you can discuss BG3 is flooded with it.
Stop being disgusting borderline predators and find a healthier outlet for your weird fantasies. Not reading replies.
submitted by GENERAL_SH1TPOSTER to BaldursGate3 [link] [comments]
Larian had to put out a message to stop harassing them over fucking mods? I'll give the community two guesses as to which subgroup of the fandom was responsible for the lion's share of this, though I bet you only need one.
Take a look at Nexus right now. Go to the most popular mods for BG3 of all time. Guess how many mods you have to look through to get to a NSFW mod? 4. It's the 5th mod. The fifth fucking most popular mod of all time is all about making your characters as slutty as possible. The 10th most popular straight up gives your characters "better" naked bodies. Are you goddamn serious? There's even a mod that makes your characters have sex in a way that the actors, whose voices and animations are used, did not consent to.
I have no problem with things being sexual in nature, but go play Being a DIK if you want a goddamn sex game (it has enough reviews that I know a large chunk of you know what this is). Twisting something that is not inherently sexual in nature to BE sexual because you can't control your lust for pixels on a screen is not healthy. It's borderline offensive to the writers.
Writing characters with the depth of personality, nuance, and texture that these characters have is not an easy task. It takes years of practice, reading, revising, editing, and then an unbelievable amount of artistic talent to bring those people to life. To see all that work and think "hehe i wanna see his peen" is reductionist, it undermines their work, and it fucking sucks.
These goddamn degenerates have even harassed the VAs who brought the objects of your sexual desire to life. Poor Neil in particular (voice of Astarion) has received messages that are objectively criminal. Devora (Lae'zel) has gotten them. Jennifer (Shadowheart) has gotten them. Guess who hasn't gotten them to anywhere near the same degree? Wyll's VA. Minthara's VA. The less popular options. The Venn diagram of people overly sexualizing everything in this game and the people who harass Larian and the VAs is nearly a circle.
This has even leaked into non-sexual discussion of the personalities of characters. You cannot maintain the opinion that Astarion bares some guilt for his actions. You cannot suggest that Gale had the faculties to understand the relationship he entered into. You cannot suggest that Shadowheart is actually kind of stupid. You cannot suggest that Karlach should have helped the Elturians. You will be crucified by parasocial wannabe mother figures who need to protect their darling babies.
Not to mention, imagine being wary of sex or it making you uncomfortable, and every space in which you can discuss BG3 is flooded with it.
Stop being disgusting borderline predators and find a healthier outlet for your weird fantasies. Not reading replies.
2024.02.13 21:23 Theadination The book of decay
Mortarion walked to his library. He had told his Watchers in the Dark to sort it again, including that new book he had found. Some sort of Plaguemancy book. That was a valuable item, and he couldn't wait to read it.
"Now where is that book?" Mortarion said as he scanned the shelves, until he found it. He pulled it down, and set it on his desk, lighting candles. He saw diagrams for spells, diseases, and curses. He tried a disease, and it was magnificent, drawing power from the mana in the air. It was able to render a caster useless with one whiff.
He turned the page and found a note scrawled on it. It was an ancient language, one he knew: Entity Speech.
"Nargoth clartho neifg urgyal, nirrt awseg." Mortarion recited the note, and he suddenly he felt a presence in the room. He knew it was the book itself.
"I'm aware of your presence, my friend." Mortarion spoke to the spirit nonchalantly. He continued reading, and translated what he had said aloud.
"Shit!" Mortarion jumped up. He realized what he said. He had opened his mental fortitude, now anything could enter.
"Very cramped in here, maybe I could clear it up." A voice spoke on his head.
"Dammit. Get out of my head!" As Mortarion yelled, he noticed his voice was distorted, as if it was coming from a radio. He looked at his hands, and saw they were already staticky like an old TV.
"Run raven run." The voice spoke in his head. "Better make those deals already!"
Mortarion knew what the voice meant. He had to make those deals. He knew where to start. "Watcher in the Dark! Come over here!"
A small robed figure walked into the room. "My friend, for your service, I'd like to make a deal with you. For a favor I could let you go back to The Lion. So what do you say?! Is the price right?!" The Watcher in the Dark looked confused, but extended its hand to Mortarions static hand. It took it, and began to feel as if it aged centuries, but Watchers in the Dark lived for long. While Mortarion seemed to become more solid, and the static disappeared. But his voice still sounded like a 1920s radio.
" I must protect this book dearly! For it holds the secret to life! Now, I need a god. . .
submitted by Theadination to wizardposting [link] [comments]
"Now where is that book?" Mortarion said as he scanned the shelves, until he found it. He pulled it down, and set it on his desk, lighting candles. He saw diagrams for spells, diseases, and curses. He tried a disease, and it was magnificent, drawing power from the mana in the air. It was able to render a caster useless with one whiff.
He turned the page and found a note scrawled on it. It was an ancient language, one he knew: Entity Speech.
"Nargoth clartho neifg urgyal, nirrt awseg." Mortarion recited the note, and he suddenly he felt a presence in the room. He knew it was the book itself.
"I'm aware of your presence, my friend." Mortarion spoke to the spirit nonchalantly. He continued reading, and translated what he had said aloud.
"Shit!" Mortarion jumped up. He realized what he said. He had opened his mental fortitude, now anything could enter.
"Very cramped in here, maybe I could clear it up." A voice spoke on his head.
"Dammit. Get out of my head!" As Mortarion yelled, he noticed his voice was distorted, as if it was coming from a radio. He looked at his hands, and saw they were already staticky like an old TV.
"Run raven run." The voice spoke in his head. "Better make those deals already!"
Mortarion knew what the voice meant. He had to make those deals. He knew where to start. "Watcher in the Dark! Come over here!"
A small robed figure walked into the room. "My friend, for your service, I'd like to make a deal with you. For a favor I could let you go back to The Lion. So what do you say?! Is the price right?!" The Watcher in the Dark looked confused, but extended its hand to Mortarions static hand. It took it, and began to feel as if it aged centuries, but Watchers in the Dark lived for long. While Mortarion seemed to become more solid, and the static disappeared. But his voice still sounded like a 1920s radio.
" I must protect this book dearly! For it holds the secret to life! Now, I need a god. . .
2024.02.06 18:04 Hieu_Nguyen_1 [SPOILER] Making an Eastern Roman Emperor-style title for Laios
So. My Roman Empire these days is the Eastern Roman (Byzantine) Empire and its everything, which of course includes Ancient and Medieval Greek. Seeing a healthy amount of titles and names people call Laios at Chapter 96, I immediately think of the long and elaborate title of Eastern Roman emperors, for example, the following title for Isaac II Angelos:
Using these words, we have the following Eastern Roman style title for Laios:
submitted by Hieu_Nguyen_1 to DungeonMeshi [link] [comments]
Ἰσαάκιος ἐν Χριστῷ τῷ Θεῷ πιστὸς βασιλεύς, θεοστεφής, ἄναξ, κραταιός, ὑψηλός, ἀεὶ αὔγουστος, κληρονόμος τοῦ στέμματος τοῦ μεγάλου Κωνσταντίνου καὶ αὐτοκράτωρ Ῥωμαίων ὁ ἌγγελοςSo, in creating a new title for our King Laios, I will use something similar to the formula:
Isaac, in Christ the God faithful King, crowned by God, anax, mighty, high, always Augustus, heir to the throne of Constantine the Great and autocrat of the Romans, the Angelos
Laios, in [...] faithful King, [some adjectives], always [...], heir to the throne of [...] and autocrat of [...], the ToudenOur job is now finding words to fill in. Chapter 96 already gives us some nice ideas.
| Term (Original Japanese and English) | Greek | Notes (new coinage, etc.) |
|---|---|---|
| 悪魔喰い — Demon Eater | δαιμονοφάγος | < δαίμον + φάγος (γαλακτοφάγος < γάλα + φάγος) |
| 三つ首のライオス — Laios of the Three Heads | Λάιος τρικέφαλος | τρικέφαλος ΛΛΣ |
| 野菜鎧 — Vegetable-Armoured | λαχάνοπλος | < λάχανον + ὅπλον (χαλκέοπλος < χάλκεος + ὅπλον) |
| 惡食王ライオス — King Laios, The Devourer of All Things Horrible | Λάιος παγκακοβόρος | < παν- + κακοβόρος ΛΛΣ (all- + bad-food-eating) |
| 迷宮の主 — Lord of the Dungeon | κύριος τοῦ λαβυρίνθου | λαβύρινθος matches 迷宮, and the in-world dungeons work like a labyrinth to imprison demons |
| 龍刹し — Dragon Slayer | δρακοκτόνος | < δράκων + -κτόνος (περσοκτόνος < πέρσης + -κτόνος) |
| 魔王ライオス — Demon King | Λάιος βασιλεύς τῶν Δαιμόνων, or Λάιος βασιλεύς Δαιμονίας | < δαίμον + -ία (ῥωμανία < ῥωμανός + -ία). Δαιμονία thus means something along the lines of "Demon Realm". |
| 黃金の國の王 | βασιλεύς Χρυσοχώρας | < χρυσός + χώρα. Χρυσοχώρα means "Golden Country". |
Λάιος ἐν τῷ Πτερωτῷ Λέοντι πιστὸς βασιλεύς, τρικέφαλος, παγκακοβόρος, λαχάνοπλος, δρακοκτόνος, δαιμονοφάγος, ἀεὶ κύριος τοῦ λαβυρίνθου, κληρονόμος τοῦ στέμματος τοῦ Δελγάλου, καὶ αὐτοκράτωρ Χρυσοχώρας καὶ Δαιμονίας ὁ ΤουδένοςFurther notes:
Laios, in the Winged Lion faithful King, three-headed, all-abomination-devouring, vegetable-armoured, dragon-slaying, demon-eating, always Lord of the Dungeon, heir to the throne of Delgal, and autocrat of Golden Country and of Demon Realm, the Touden.
- The Winged Lion is chosen to fill in "... in [...] faithful ...". The Lion is traditionally the guardian spirit of the Golden Country and appears extensively as a motif throughout the country itself and the dungeon. Besides, note Laios' adorning with his cape with yet another winged lion motif and his reasoning in Chapter 96.
- "heir to the throne of Delgal" — self explanatory.
- "αὐτοκράτωρ Δαιμονίας" (autocrat of the Demon Realm) is chosen over "αὐτοκράτωρ Δαιμόνων" (autocrat of the Demons). The latter term implies a rule over the whole demon "population", but the former term does not attempt to imply such rule. The former term is also chosen for consistency with "αὐτοκράτωρ Χρυσοχώρας" (αὐτοκράτωρ + genitive of land name) and also to account for the apparent lack of name for the people who live in the Golden Country. The formula also has actual historical usage, c.f. the Serbian title βασιλεὺς καὶ αὐτοκράτωρ Σερβίας καὶ Ῥωμανίας (link).
2024.02.03 05:53 SavoryAntidote “My wife ordered a beading pattern book, but instead of patterns it only contains AI written instructions on how to make such a book.”
 | submitted by SavoryAntidote to CraftedByAI [link] [comments] |
2024.02.03 05:13 country_mac08 Why Sainristil and not Zak Zinter?
I get that not everyone is in the center of the venn diagram between the Wolverine and Lions, but as someone who is, if I could choose one Wolverine that embodies the dna of our teams it’s Zak Zinter. I’ve seen 100 comments about drafting Mikey Sainristil and I know we need CBs but I’d rather us draft Zak Zinter.
We need talent in both areas. Not trying to minimize our lack of talent in the defensive backfield… I just think Zak is a generational talent and there’s better dbs than Mikey.
submitted by country_mac08 to detroitlions [link] [comments]
We need talent in both areas. Not trying to minimize our lack of talent in the defensive backfield… I just think Zak is a generational talent and there’s better dbs than Mikey.
2024.02.02 14:33 ShilkaLive My wife ordered a beading pattern book, but instead of patterns it only contains AI written instructions on how to make such a book.
| | submitted by ShilkaLive to mildlyinfuriating [link] [comments] |
2024.01.24 14:16 maximusaemilius Humans 101 "Group projects" - The new hit course at the the Central Galactic University
The room was large and echoing, voices raised up towards the ceiling, and despite their being enough room to fit more than three classrooms of the original size, there still wasn't enough room to fit everyone, with some students standing or sitting off to the side. Cameras had been brought in to observe the lecture, and were being mounted as they watched, so other students from other universities could Audit the lectures.
A group of four students, two Vrul and two Tesraki sat together on the far right of the lecture hall. They had been forced to pair together for another one of their class projects and just ended up naturally gravitating towards what was familiar, sitting next to each other as they waited for the lecture to begin.
"Did you guys finish the assignment?"
"We did."
Of course, the two Vrul had, that was to be expected.
The Tesraki looked down at their papers, work halfway finished because they had a tough time from telling what was myth from what was fact.
"Humans, do not, in fact, cannibalize their young."
"Where the hell did you hear that?”
"I had an older classmate tell me once, and I saw it in another news article."
There was muttering,
"Even we knew that."
The other Vrul shuffled their papers studiously,
"Humans do not have hypnotic gazes that can paralyze their prey."
"Really? I felt for sure that that one was going to be real."
The Tesraki's ears drooped,
"Well apparently, human stomach acid IS powerful enough to eat through metal."
There was silence.
"No really, that can't be true."
The Tesraki nodded,
"It isn't a myth."
He sighed in frustration,
"Everything I looked up about humans was true. Human bones are stronger than steel, the human liver can regenerate, humans can transplant organs from one human to another and it will work. Humans have a system of language that doesn't require the use of noise, it's called “sign language” by the way."
One of the Vrul vibrated their antenna,
"I am sorry to hear your search did not go well, perhaps if you had read more disreputable news articles it would have been better. Some of the major newspapers have the ability to contact better sources, which means their articles are most likely to be right."
"Did you know the human jaw is powerful enough to bite off their own fingers, but humans don't do it because number one, that hurts a lot, and number two, their brain doesn't allow them to even consider it?”
There was a silence.
"Is that a fact or a myth?”
The other Tesraki sighed,
"That is a fact."
Just then the lights overhead blinked once and then twice. The students turned to look down at the room where Dr. Krill was making his way across the floor.
Making his way in that unnatural and predatory way he had. His body moved with a fluid grace in comparison to the normal jerky movements of his species. His legs rolled one after the other in a wheel that kept him moving forward, never breaking. The shoulders on his body swayed slightly back and forth lending the power of his arms into the movement of his legs.
The way he moved his head around the room, seeming to focus on each one of them in turn, rather than taking in the whole scene at once was... Unnerving to say the least… His helium sack sat mostly unused against his shoulders and upper back as he moved into the room. Not once since he had started here had anyone seen him use it.
He said it was too slow and made keeping up with humans difficult, unless you were being dragged behind them.
It was... Strange to watch... How he never seemed to stop moving. Even when he spoke his four hands and his head moved to emphasize his points. When speaking to students coming up to see him, his body shifted in reaction to their words. His hands wide, then closed then open again, up and then down. His chin rose and fell in greeting to people and students he knew and to those he didn't know so well.
It was a fascinating scene to watch, and one they were not entirely sure if they liked.
Dr Krill made a strange noise deep inside his throat, that over the speakers had the entire class turning to look at him. It was a strange sort of barking cough mixed with a hum. They couldn't have known that Krill was imitating the way humans clear their throat when they want to speak.
"Students, I hope you all had a good week, and I hope you were all able to complete my first, and easiest assignment?"
There was a soft muttering around the room.
The doctor clapped both of his hands together, producing a sharp noise that brought attention back to himself,
"Well, as I have said, today, as a special treat for staying..."
He turned to look around the room before muttering,
"And multiplying, apparently."
He frowned when none of the students seemed amused at his joke, but continued,
"I am going to be talking about the human fight flight or freeze response and the entire reaction of the sympathetic nervous system."
Students withdrew their holopads to begin taking notes.
The cameras zoomed in on doctor Krill.
"We discussed last week how humans are technically considered predator animals, and they are, as they eat and consume other animals daily. However, humans are not an apex predator, as it isn't often that they consume other predators. In fact, for the longest time humans were some of the weakest, and easiest to kill predators for larger and more intimidating animals. In this way that led to the development of the sympathetic nervous system."
He turned around the room, and the two Vrul cringed back as his eyes seemed to fall on them. His antenna were unusually still,
"The sympathetic and parasympathetic systems account for two sides of the same coin. The parasympathetic nervous system is responsible for the workings of the body when the human is relaxed. It focuses primarily on digestion, relaxation slower breathing and even blood flow through the major organs including the eyes. It has other properties too of course, but when a human is relaxed their parasympathetic nervous system is the one generally in charge during those times."
He turned to the projector,
"Now assume you are an ancient human out on your natural habitat of the savanna – without their adaptation the human's natural habitat is warm and relatively dry with lots of open grassland and the occasional tree."
he flipped a picture on the projector and the class pulled back a bit in surprise at the picture that unfolded before them. It was a strange creature standing upright tall but remarkably hairy except for on its face and hands,
"This is a 3D rendered recreation of what early humans might have looked like based on skeletal remains found in their fossil record. The development of the human sympathetic nervous system likely started long before humans looked like this, but still the visual aid is one that I find compelling."
The class stared at the creatures’ thick face, heavy brow and sloping shoulders.
Humans today were much more graceful, though much less powerful than what this beast looked like. It was strange trying to determine which one was the superior. They supposed the current human, as its head size looked much bigger in comparison.
Krill pulled up a side-by-side comparison with his earlier diagram.
They recognized the modern human as he had been rendered in textbooks thousands of times since he had first been studied.
Very pale with his fine blond fur compared to the hulking shape next to him, with course brown fur that covered his entire body.
"Note the evolutionary changes that had to be made to get from this human."
He pointed at the hairy one,
"To that one."
He motioned to the pale one,
"The hips grew smaller, the spine took on a sharp S curve, the ratio of legs to arms changed dramatically, leaving the human with longer legs and comparatively short arms. The jaw and the face shortened, while the cranium expanded, and hair receded across the body. The current human skeletal structure is finer and more delicate than its original counterpart, with a focus on precision in movement over power, which has become so important to their survival today."
Dr Krill pointed to the picture of the old human,
"This human tried its best to stay alive."
He pointed at the other human,
"This human seems to be lacking in a lot of those same survival skills as he is constantly trying to get himself killed."
Krill sighed,
"Modern humans are a little bit more complicated than their ancestors, but I digress. Now imagine either one of these humans being faced with what might have been their natural predator on the savanna.”
He flipped the image and the crowd gasped as a massive alien shape leaped up into a third projected spot. It was long and sinewy, walking on four legs and a had a fur color like the tanned grassland. Its eyes were facing front, and on its massive paws there were huge, hooked claws. Dr. Krill pressed a button to start the looping animation that allowed the creature to lope along with a sinuous grace that made the human look clumsy and awkward in comparison, all three of the animations moving.
The creature opened its mouth and the entire class pulled back as huge razor-sharp teeth glinted in the light, as it yawned, shook its head, and then continued walking.
"This is an African Lion, a female of the species weighing in at only 280 lbs. Now while some humans can weigh that much, a human of comparable fitness like our modern human weigh in at around only 210 lbs as an adult male. Now this female lion has a higher muscle to body mass index than the human, can run faster, jump higher, and bite harder. She has long and protruding K-9 teeth and retractable claws. This beast is a true killing machine. The human has no chance... or ... Does he?"
The class shifted slightly in their seats muttering.
Krill waited for a long drawn-out moment before,
"No, statistically he is going to get his face eaten off, however, he does still have a slight chance."
"The human will see the predator, and immediately upon seeing the body is going to flood the system with a hormone called “Adrenaline”. Adrenaline is a natural high for humans that can result in increased strength, speed, and heightened visual perception. The Parasympathetic system is switched off for the sympathetic nervous system. The heart begins to beat faster as blood is routed into all the major muscle groups, those being primarily the legs. All activity in the internal organs shuts down as that blood flow is routed outwards. Blood can even be funneled away from the brain, despite that seeming a bit counterproductive, causing tunnel vision in the eyes. Despite this, the brain begins to work faster allowing the human to see at more frames per second which seems, to a human, to slow down time."
He turned to look at them,
"Now a human has three opinions in a dangerous situation like this, either fight, flight, or freeze. All of these responses would have been adaptive in an environment like this with fight being, hopefully, the last response. Many predator animals are geared for a chase, so freezing will give a human a better chance of survival because if they run, they will most certainly be attacked. ON the other hand, sometimes this will not work, and being able to run as fast as possible is their only option. Backed against a wall and unable to run fast enough, a human has to fight. But bear in mind that some humans do not react in this order."
He turned to look at the image,
"The human body on adrenaline is capable of some wild and unbelievable things. The average human only uses around 40-60% of their body's natural strength. Systems in the brain will not allow more because if a human were able to use all the power of their body, they could rend muscle from bone. Well trained human athletes can use up to 70-90% of their natural strength, but during a time like this, the average human can be turned into a well-trained athlete or more. In dire situations humans have been known to lift up to seven times their own body weight. During this time humans have been known to lift vehicles, wrestle wild animals, and throw large boulders. However, this does not come without a price, and the human will likely receive permanent damage to their muscular structure."
He turned to point at the pictures again.
"I heard a story about how a human choked to death a small mountain lion, and another man who fought off a shark. Humans are statistically unlikely to win a fight like this, but it isn't impossible."
He stalked around the room,
"Humans do not just experience adrenaline when dealing with animals, but during accidents, public speaking events, and even in conflict with other humans. Expecting to be hurt, the human body has the ability to completely shut off its pain perception."
There was a stunned silence all around him, and then an uproar.
Dr. Krill seemed almost smug as he watched them react like that, and raised a hand for silence.
They quieted down,
"Yes, you heard me, the human brain has the ability to completely ignore pain, until the danger is dealt with. The first surgery I ever did, on this human right here is a good demonstration... If you do not want to see graphic images turn your head away now."
Even if they had wanted to it was impossible to tear their eyes away as the image popped up on screen.
The class gasped.
There was a collective sound of disgust.
"That screwdriver had gone in through the front of his eye, broke through the back of the ocular socket and slid into one of the cortical folds of the brain. He WALKED into my surgery and conversed with me like a logical and reasoning person. He did not report any physical discomfort or pain, he did not scream or show any other signs of distress. His brain had completely shut off all response to the pain."
He turned to walk around the circle.
"You see most of the time pain is a good thing, it allows you to know when something is wrong, but there are other times, dire situations like this where the ability to feel pain will only hinder the subject. If this human had been able to feel pain it is likely his thrashing and screaming would have caused more cortical damage than it already would have. I heard a story of a woman who fell off a cliff and broke both of her legs horribly, while she was still in pain, she managed to crawl her way off a mountain, and as soon as other humans found her, she passed out as the pain got worse. Another human, who had been rock climbing, ended up with his arm trapped under a boulder and with no escape. He was there for days, but, in the end, he managed to cut off his own arm in order to escape."
More horrified gasping from the crowd as they pulled away in shock and terror.
"These are just some of the most impressive stories. Not all humans will react like this. The vast majority of humans will freeze when they should fight, or run when they should freeze. Some will simply give up and curl into a ball, but there are other humans, like this, who under adrenaline can run like Olympic sprinters, lift seven times their own size and fight better than the animals attacking them. The capabilities and the possibilities of a human under the influence of adrenaline are remarkable."
His antenna vibrated just a little in amusement,
"As you can imagine, humans do not experience this much these days, but psychological studies have reported that it is actually healthy for humans to experience the fight or flight response as it helps the brain retain that ability. For something to continue working you need to use it. Scientists say that exposing a human to a sympathetic response in a controlled environment is good for their mental health."
He sighed,
"Of course this leads humans to watching horror themed movies, skydiving, and recreational fighting. Otherwise, humans put themselves into controlled danger in order to feel what their ancestors felt a long time ago when they were being chased by large raging land predators, but when your species developed in an environment that hostile, it is to be expected."
The group of four stared at Krill, and by extension the animation of the real living human behind him.
They tried to imagine the slim two-legged figure winning a fight against the massive clawed beast, but were having trouble. Its teeth, which had once seemed so sharp, now were dull and almost useless. The nails on its hands, once considered claws were tiny, flimsy and pathetic, but... It seemed strange, there was still something in the way it moved that suggested possibilities.
Humans were survivors where many other species were not.
Humans may not have had a very high chance against the dangers of the galaxy…
But at least they had a chance.
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submitted by maximusaemilius to humansarespaceorcs [link] [comments]
A group of four students, two Vrul and two Tesraki sat together on the far right of the lecture hall. They had been forced to pair together for another one of their class projects and just ended up naturally gravitating towards what was familiar, sitting next to each other as they waited for the lecture to begin.
"Did you guys finish the assignment?"
"We did."
Of course, the two Vrul had, that was to be expected.
The Tesraki looked down at their papers, work halfway finished because they had a tough time from telling what was myth from what was fact.
"Humans, do not, in fact, cannibalize their young."
"Where the hell did you hear that?”
"I had an older classmate tell me once, and I saw it in another news article."
There was muttering,
"Even we knew that."
The other Vrul shuffled their papers studiously,
"Humans do not have hypnotic gazes that can paralyze their prey."
"Really? I felt for sure that that one was going to be real."
The Tesraki's ears drooped,
"Well apparently, human stomach acid IS powerful enough to eat through metal."
There was silence.
"No really, that can't be true."
The Tesraki nodded,
"It isn't a myth."
He sighed in frustration,
"Everything I looked up about humans was true. Human bones are stronger than steel, the human liver can regenerate, humans can transplant organs from one human to another and it will work. Humans have a system of language that doesn't require the use of noise, it's called “sign language” by the way."
One of the Vrul vibrated their antenna,
"I am sorry to hear your search did not go well, perhaps if you had read more disreputable news articles it would have been better. Some of the major newspapers have the ability to contact better sources, which means their articles are most likely to be right."
"Did you know the human jaw is powerful enough to bite off their own fingers, but humans don't do it because number one, that hurts a lot, and number two, their brain doesn't allow them to even consider it?”
There was a silence.
"Is that a fact or a myth?”
The other Tesraki sighed,
"That is a fact."
Just then the lights overhead blinked once and then twice. The students turned to look down at the room where Dr. Krill was making his way across the floor.
Making his way in that unnatural and predatory way he had. His body moved with a fluid grace in comparison to the normal jerky movements of his species. His legs rolled one after the other in a wheel that kept him moving forward, never breaking. The shoulders on his body swayed slightly back and forth lending the power of his arms into the movement of his legs.
The way he moved his head around the room, seeming to focus on each one of them in turn, rather than taking in the whole scene at once was... Unnerving to say the least… His helium sack sat mostly unused against his shoulders and upper back as he moved into the room. Not once since he had started here had anyone seen him use it.
He said it was too slow and made keeping up with humans difficult, unless you were being dragged behind them.
It was... Strange to watch... How he never seemed to stop moving. Even when he spoke his four hands and his head moved to emphasize his points. When speaking to students coming up to see him, his body shifted in reaction to their words. His hands wide, then closed then open again, up and then down. His chin rose and fell in greeting to people and students he knew and to those he didn't know so well.
It was a fascinating scene to watch, and one they were not entirely sure if they liked.
Dr Krill made a strange noise deep inside his throat, that over the speakers had the entire class turning to look at him. It was a strange sort of barking cough mixed with a hum. They couldn't have known that Krill was imitating the way humans clear their throat when they want to speak.
"Students, I hope you all had a good week, and I hope you were all able to complete my first, and easiest assignment?"
There was a soft muttering around the room.
The doctor clapped both of his hands together, producing a sharp noise that brought attention back to himself,
"Well, as I have said, today, as a special treat for staying..."
He turned to look around the room before muttering,
"And multiplying, apparently."
He frowned when none of the students seemed amused at his joke, but continued,
"I am going to be talking about the human fight flight or freeze response and the entire reaction of the sympathetic nervous system."
Students withdrew their holopads to begin taking notes.
The cameras zoomed in on doctor Krill.
"We discussed last week how humans are technically considered predator animals, and they are, as they eat and consume other animals daily. However, humans are not an apex predator, as it isn't often that they consume other predators. In fact, for the longest time humans were some of the weakest, and easiest to kill predators for larger and more intimidating animals. In this way that led to the development of the sympathetic nervous system."
He turned around the room, and the two Vrul cringed back as his eyes seemed to fall on them. His antenna were unusually still,
"The sympathetic and parasympathetic systems account for two sides of the same coin. The parasympathetic nervous system is responsible for the workings of the body when the human is relaxed. It focuses primarily on digestion, relaxation slower breathing and even blood flow through the major organs including the eyes. It has other properties too of course, but when a human is relaxed their parasympathetic nervous system is the one generally in charge during those times."
He turned to the projector,
"Now assume you are an ancient human out on your natural habitat of the savanna – without their adaptation the human's natural habitat is warm and relatively dry with lots of open grassland and the occasional tree."
he flipped a picture on the projector and the class pulled back a bit in surprise at the picture that unfolded before them. It was a strange creature standing upright tall but remarkably hairy except for on its face and hands,
"This is a 3D rendered recreation of what early humans might have looked like based on skeletal remains found in their fossil record. The development of the human sympathetic nervous system likely started long before humans looked like this, but still the visual aid is one that I find compelling."
The class stared at the creatures’ thick face, heavy brow and sloping shoulders.
Humans today were much more graceful, though much less powerful than what this beast looked like. It was strange trying to determine which one was the superior. They supposed the current human, as its head size looked much bigger in comparison.
Krill pulled up a side-by-side comparison with his earlier diagram.
They recognized the modern human as he had been rendered in textbooks thousands of times since he had first been studied.
Very pale with his fine blond fur compared to the hulking shape next to him, with course brown fur that covered his entire body.
"Note the evolutionary changes that had to be made to get from this human."
He pointed at the hairy one,
"To that one."
He motioned to the pale one,
"The hips grew smaller, the spine took on a sharp S curve, the ratio of legs to arms changed dramatically, leaving the human with longer legs and comparatively short arms. The jaw and the face shortened, while the cranium expanded, and hair receded across the body. The current human skeletal structure is finer and more delicate than its original counterpart, with a focus on precision in movement over power, which has become so important to their survival today."
Dr Krill pointed to the picture of the old human,
"This human tried its best to stay alive."
He pointed at the other human,
"This human seems to be lacking in a lot of those same survival skills as he is constantly trying to get himself killed."
Krill sighed,
"Modern humans are a little bit more complicated than their ancestors, but I digress. Now imagine either one of these humans being faced with what might have been their natural predator on the savanna.”
He flipped the image and the crowd gasped as a massive alien shape leaped up into a third projected spot. It was long and sinewy, walking on four legs and a had a fur color like the tanned grassland. Its eyes were facing front, and on its massive paws there were huge, hooked claws. Dr. Krill pressed a button to start the looping animation that allowed the creature to lope along with a sinuous grace that made the human look clumsy and awkward in comparison, all three of the animations moving.
The creature opened its mouth and the entire class pulled back as huge razor-sharp teeth glinted in the light, as it yawned, shook its head, and then continued walking.
"This is an African Lion, a female of the species weighing in at only 280 lbs. Now while some humans can weigh that much, a human of comparable fitness like our modern human weigh in at around only 210 lbs as an adult male. Now this female lion has a higher muscle to body mass index than the human, can run faster, jump higher, and bite harder. She has long and protruding K-9 teeth and retractable claws. This beast is a true killing machine. The human has no chance... or ... Does he?"
The class shifted slightly in their seats muttering.
Krill waited for a long drawn-out moment before,
"No, statistically he is going to get his face eaten off, however, he does still have a slight chance."
"The human will see the predator, and immediately upon seeing the body is going to flood the system with a hormone called “Adrenaline”. Adrenaline is a natural high for humans that can result in increased strength, speed, and heightened visual perception. The Parasympathetic system is switched off for the sympathetic nervous system. The heart begins to beat faster as blood is routed into all the major muscle groups, those being primarily the legs. All activity in the internal organs shuts down as that blood flow is routed outwards. Blood can even be funneled away from the brain, despite that seeming a bit counterproductive, causing tunnel vision in the eyes. Despite this, the brain begins to work faster allowing the human to see at more frames per second which seems, to a human, to slow down time."
He turned to look at them,
"Now a human has three opinions in a dangerous situation like this, either fight, flight, or freeze. All of these responses would have been adaptive in an environment like this with fight being, hopefully, the last response. Many predator animals are geared for a chase, so freezing will give a human a better chance of survival because if they run, they will most certainly be attacked. ON the other hand, sometimes this will not work, and being able to run as fast as possible is their only option. Backed against a wall and unable to run fast enough, a human has to fight. But bear in mind that some humans do not react in this order."
He turned to look at the image,
"The human body on adrenaline is capable of some wild and unbelievable things. The average human only uses around 40-60% of their body's natural strength. Systems in the brain will not allow more because if a human were able to use all the power of their body, they could rend muscle from bone. Well trained human athletes can use up to 70-90% of their natural strength, but during a time like this, the average human can be turned into a well-trained athlete or more. In dire situations humans have been known to lift up to seven times their own body weight. During this time humans have been known to lift vehicles, wrestle wild animals, and throw large boulders. However, this does not come without a price, and the human will likely receive permanent damage to their muscular structure."
He turned to point at the pictures again.
"I heard a story about how a human choked to death a small mountain lion, and another man who fought off a shark. Humans are statistically unlikely to win a fight like this, but it isn't impossible."
He stalked around the room,
"Humans do not just experience adrenaline when dealing with animals, but during accidents, public speaking events, and even in conflict with other humans. Expecting to be hurt, the human body has the ability to completely shut off its pain perception."
There was a stunned silence all around him, and then an uproar.
Dr. Krill seemed almost smug as he watched them react like that, and raised a hand for silence.
They quieted down,
"Yes, you heard me, the human brain has the ability to completely ignore pain, until the danger is dealt with. The first surgery I ever did, on this human right here is a good demonstration... If you do not want to see graphic images turn your head away now."
Even if they had wanted to it was impossible to tear their eyes away as the image popped up on screen.
The class gasped.
There was a collective sound of disgust.
"That screwdriver had gone in through the front of his eye, broke through the back of the ocular socket and slid into one of the cortical folds of the brain. He WALKED into my surgery and conversed with me like a logical and reasoning person. He did not report any physical discomfort or pain, he did not scream or show any other signs of distress. His brain had completely shut off all response to the pain."
He turned to walk around the circle.
"You see most of the time pain is a good thing, it allows you to know when something is wrong, but there are other times, dire situations like this where the ability to feel pain will only hinder the subject. If this human had been able to feel pain it is likely his thrashing and screaming would have caused more cortical damage than it already would have. I heard a story of a woman who fell off a cliff and broke both of her legs horribly, while she was still in pain, she managed to crawl her way off a mountain, and as soon as other humans found her, she passed out as the pain got worse. Another human, who had been rock climbing, ended up with his arm trapped under a boulder and with no escape. He was there for days, but, in the end, he managed to cut off his own arm in order to escape."
More horrified gasping from the crowd as they pulled away in shock and terror.
"These are just some of the most impressive stories. Not all humans will react like this. The vast majority of humans will freeze when they should fight, or run when they should freeze. Some will simply give up and curl into a ball, but there are other humans, like this, who under adrenaline can run like Olympic sprinters, lift seven times their own size and fight better than the animals attacking them. The capabilities and the possibilities of a human under the influence of adrenaline are remarkable."
His antenna vibrated just a little in amusement,
"As you can imagine, humans do not experience this much these days, but psychological studies have reported that it is actually healthy for humans to experience the fight or flight response as it helps the brain retain that ability. For something to continue working you need to use it. Scientists say that exposing a human to a sympathetic response in a controlled environment is good for their mental health."
He sighed,
"Of course this leads humans to watching horror themed movies, skydiving, and recreational fighting. Otherwise, humans put themselves into controlled danger in order to feel what their ancestors felt a long time ago when they were being chased by large raging land predators, but when your species developed in an environment that hostile, it is to be expected."
The group of four stared at Krill, and by extension the animation of the real living human behind him.
They tried to imagine the slim two-legged figure winning a fight against the massive clawed beast, but were having trouble. Its teeth, which had once seemed so sharp, now were dull and almost useless. The nails on its hands, once considered claws were tiny, flimsy and pathetic, but... It seemed strange, there was still something in the way it moved that suggested possibilities.
Humans were survivors where many other species were not.
Humans may not have had a very high chance against the dangers of the galaxy…
But at least they had a chance.
Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Intro post by me
OC-whole collection
Patreon of the author
2024.01.22 20:20 Mr_Turntable Pre-Venn-Diagram Fact Check
I've had a lot of people reaching out to me if I'm doing another genre Venn diagram. I am indeed. Before I try to piece this impossible puzzle together, I want to make sure everyone agrees these genres are correct. I'd rather have to tweak it now, and not be told a mistake I made after it's already posted. So, please help me make sure this is as accurate as possible.
And thanks to everyone for all the kind words I recieved from last year's edition.
-------------------------------------------
Thurs.
Pretty Lights - EDM, Glitch-Hop/Electro Soul, Bass/Brostep, Jam
Fisher- EDM, House, Tech House
Bigxthaplug - Hiphop
Disco Lines - EDM, house
Durand Bernarr - Soul
Eggy - Jam
Geese - Rock, Indie Rock, Maybe Alt.
Gwar- Hard rock/metal
The Heavy Heavy - Rock, Psych, Indie
Honeyluv - EDM, house
It’s Murph - EDM, house
Matt Maltese - Pop, Indie, Rock
Medium Build - Indie, Alternative Rock
Michigander - Indie Rock, Alternative Rock
Militarie Gun - Alt rock, Punk
Nation of Language - Alt-Dance, Pop, Indie
Neal Francis’ Francis Comes Alive - Rock, Psych Rock, Jam
Ocie Elliott - Folk
Oliver Heldens - EDM, House, Tech House
Róisín Murphy - Alt-Dance, Pop
Say She She - Soul, Rock, Pop
Sid Sriram - World, Soul, Pop
Fri. Post Malone - Pop, Hip-Hop/Rap, Soul
Maggie Rogers - Pop, Indie
Khruangbin - Rock, Psych, Funk
Seven Lions - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step, House
Joe Russo’s Almost Dead - Jam
Dominic Fike - Pop, Rap/Hip/Hop, Indie, Rock
Lizzy McAlpine - Pop, Folk, Indie
Interpol - Rock, Indie
T-Pain - Rap/Hip-Hop, Soul
Svdden Death - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step
TV Girl - Indie, Pop, Psych
Gary Clark Jr. - Blues, Rock
The Mars Volta - Hard Rock, Punk, Psych, Progressive (Not sure if I’m adding this genre)
Faye Webster - Indie, Folk
Key Glock - Hip-Hop/Rap
Thundercat - Soul, Funk, Jazz
Lovejoy - Rock, Indie
ISOXO - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step
Grouplove - Indie, Rock, Pop
David Kushner - Folk, Pop, Soul
The Japanese House - Indie, Pop
Dr. Fresch - EDM, House, Bass/Bro-Step
49 Winchester - Country, Rock, Folk
Mike. - Hip-Hop/Rap, Pop, Soul
Larkin Poe - Blues, Rock, Folk
Shy FX - EDM, Drum & Bass, Bass/Bro-Step
Bonny Light Horseman - Folk
Baby Queen - Alt-Dance, Pop
Mdou Moctar - World, Blues, Rock
Jessica Audiffred - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step
Half Moon Run - Folk, Indie, Rock
Hamdi - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step, UK Garage
LYNY - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step
Sat.
Red Hot Chili Peppers - Rock, Alt-Rock, Funk
Cage The Elephant - Rock, Alt-Rock, Blues
Melanie Martinez - Pop
Cigarettes After S** - Indie, Pop
Diplo - EDM
Jon Batiste - Soul
Reneé Rapp - Pop, Rock
Parcels - Indie, Pop, Alt-Dance , Funk
Idles - Punk, Hard Rock/Metal
Brittany Howard - Soul, Rock, Pop
Sean Paul - Dance Hall, Pop, Hip-Hop/Rap
Knock2 - EDM, House, Bass/Bro-Step
Ethel Cain - Indie, Pop, Rock, Folk
Gregory Alan Isakov - Folk, Indie
The Teskey Brothers - Soul, Rock, Blues
Badbadnotgood - Jazz, Psych
Teezo Touchdown - Hip-Hop/Rap
Whyte Fang - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step
Bakar - Indie, Rock
D4VD - Indie, Rock, Soul
The Maine - Rock, Pop, Punk, Alt-Rock
Josiah & The Bonnevilles - Folk, Indie
Kasablanca - EDM, House, Techno
Neil Frances - Alt-Dance, Pop, Psych
Tanner Usrey - Country, Rock
Ryan Beatty - Pop, Soul
Mike - Hip-Hop/Rap
Trousdale - Folk, Country
Vandelux - EDM, House
Lovra - EDM, House, Bass/Bro-Step
Sunday.
Fred Again.. - EDM, House, UK Garage, Downtempo
Megan Thee Stallion - Hip-Hop/Rap
Jason Isbell And The 400 Unit - Rock, Folk, Country
Two Friends - EDM, Pop
Carley Rae Jepsen - Pop, Alt-Dance
Joey BadA$$ - Hip Hop/Rap
Goth Babe - Indie, Alt-Dance, Pop
Galantis - EDM
Taking Back Sunday - Pop, Punk
Ashnikko - Pop, Alt-Dance, Hip-Hop/Rap
Four Tet - EDM, House
Charles Wesley Godwin - Country, Folk
Milky Chance - Indie, Folk, Alt-Rock
Chappell Roan - Pop, Alt-Dance
Greensky Bluegrass - BlueGrass, Jam
The Garden - Rock, Punk
Yves Tumor - Rock, Psych, Alt-Rock
The Beaches - Indie, Rock
Jake Wesley Rogers - Pop, Soul
S.G. Goodman - Folk, Country, Rock
Libianca - Soul, Afrobeat
TSHA - EDM, House
Irreversible Entanglements - Jazz
Armand Hammer - Hip-Hop/Rap
Veggi - EDM, Downtempo, House
Superjam - Rock, Pop, Punk
submitted by Mr_Turntable to bonnaroo [link] [comments]
And thanks to everyone for all the kind words I recieved from last year's edition.
-------------------------------------------
Thurs.
Pretty Lights - EDM, Glitch-Hop/Electro Soul, Bass/Brostep, Jam
Fisher- EDM, House, Tech House
Bigxthaplug - Hiphop
Disco Lines - EDM, house
Durand Bernarr - Soul
Eggy - Jam
Geese - Rock, Indie Rock, Maybe Alt.
Gwar- Hard rock/metal
The Heavy Heavy - Rock, Psych, Indie
Honeyluv - EDM, house
It’s Murph - EDM, house
Matt Maltese - Pop, Indie, Rock
Medium Build - Indie, Alternative Rock
Michigander - Indie Rock, Alternative Rock
Militarie Gun - Alt rock, Punk
Nation of Language - Alt-Dance, Pop, Indie
Neal Francis’ Francis Comes Alive - Rock, Psych Rock, Jam
Ocie Elliott - Folk
Oliver Heldens - EDM, House, Tech House
Róisín Murphy - Alt-Dance, Pop
Say She She - Soul, Rock, Pop
Sid Sriram - World, Soul, Pop
Fri. Post Malone - Pop, Hip-Hop/Rap, Soul
Maggie Rogers - Pop, Indie
Khruangbin - Rock, Psych, Funk
Seven Lions - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step, House
Joe Russo’s Almost Dead - Jam
Dominic Fike - Pop, Rap/Hip/Hop, Indie, Rock
Lizzy McAlpine - Pop, Folk, Indie
Interpol - Rock, Indie
T-Pain - Rap/Hip-Hop, Soul
Svdden Death - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step
TV Girl - Indie, Pop, Psych
Gary Clark Jr. - Blues, Rock
The Mars Volta - Hard Rock, Punk, Psych, Progressive (Not sure if I’m adding this genre)
Faye Webster - Indie, Folk
Key Glock - Hip-Hop/Rap
Thundercat - Soul, Funk, Jazz
Lovejoy - Rock, Indie
ISOXO - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step
Grouplove - Indie, Rock, Pop
David Kushner - Folk, Pop, Soul
The Japanese House - Indie, Pop
Dr. Fresch - EDM, House, Bass/Bro-Step
49 Winchester - Country, Rock, Folk
Mike. - Hip-Hop/Rap, Pop, Soul
Larkin Poe - Blues, Rock, Folk
Shy FX - EDM, Drum & Bass, Bass/Bro-Step
Bonny Light Horseman - Folk
Baby Queen - Alt-Dance, Pop
Mdou Moctar - World, Blues, Rock
Jessica Audiffred - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step
Half Moon Run - Folk, Indie, Rock
Hamdi - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step, UK Garage
LYNY - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step
Sat.
Red Hot Chili Peppers - Rock, Alt-Rock, Funk
Cage The Elephant - Rock, Alt-Rock, Blues
Melanie Martinez - Pop
Cigarettes After S** - Indie, Pop
Diplo - EDM
Jon Batiste - Soul
Reneé Rapp - Pop, Rock
Parcels - Indie, Pop, Alt-Dance , Funk
Idles - Punk, Hard Rock/Metal
Brittany Howard - Soul, Rock, Pop
Sean Paul - Dance Hall, Pop, Hip-Hop/Rap
Knock2 - EDM, House, Bass/Bro-Step
Ethel Cain - Indie, Pop, Rock, Folk
Gregory Alan Isakov - Folk, Indie
The Teskey Brothers - Soul, Rock, Blues
Badbadnotgood - Jazz, Psych
Teezo Touchdown - Hip-Hop/Rap
Whyte Fang - EDM, Bass/Bro-Step
Bakar - Indie, Rock
D4VD - Indie, Rock, Soul
The Maine - Rock, Pop, Punk, Alt-Rock
Josiah & The Bonnevilles - Folk, Indie
Kasablanca - EDM, House, Techno
Neil Frances - Alt-Dance, Pop, Psych
Tanner Usrey - Country, Rock
Ryan Beatty - Pop, Soul
Mike - Hip-Hop/Rap
Trousdale - Folk, Country
Vandelux - EDM, House
Lovra - EDM, House, Bass/Bro-Step
Sunday.
Fred Again.. - EDM, House, UK Garage, Downtempo
Megan Thee Stallion - Hip-Hop/Rap
Jason Isbell And The 400 Unit - Rock, Folk, Country
Two Friends - EDM, Pop
Carley Rae Jepsen - Pop, Alt-Dance
Joey BadA$$ - Hip Hop/Rap
Goth Babe - Indie, Alt-Dance, Pop
Galantis - EDM
Taking Back Sunday - Pop, Punk
Ashnikko - Pop, Alt-Dance, Hip-Hop/Rap
Four Tet - EDM, House
Charles Wesley Godwin - Country, Folk
Milky Chance - Indie, Folk, Alt-Rock
Chappell Roan - Pop, Alt-Dance
Greensky Bluegrass - BlueGrass, Jam
The Garden - Rock, Punk
Yves Tumor - Rock, Psych, Alt-Rock
The Beaches - Indie, Rock
Jake Wesley Rogers - Pop, Soul
S.G. Goodman - Folk, Country, Rock
Libianca - Soul, Afrobeat
TSHA - EDM, House
Irreversible Entanglements - Jazz
Armand Hammer - Hip-Hop/Rap
Veggi - EDM, Downtempo, House
Superjam - Rock, Pop, Punk
2024.01.22 15:59 WardenCaersin Is Trump Like Julius Caesar?
 | Is Trump The Next Caesar?https://preview.redd.it/pf1acymnsxdc1.png?width=1480&format=png&auto=webp&s=de547db1880872222b2ce6c80b0396e9c0218fd6 Pivoting off of my last post that went into "Why The United States is NOT Falling Like The Roman Empire", I wanted to take the time and go into even more detail about a a more apt comparison: "The Roman Republic" \note* A link to my previous post about The United States & The Roman Empire falling is in the comments below if you wish to catch that before this.* More specifically to go into depth about the pairing of a polarizing present figure with a historical one. (No we will not be doing the highly requested Joe Biden and Muhammed Venn diagram. Thousands have asked, millions more will soon enough, but I'm going to need my PHD in Islamic Dragon Ball to confidently do that.) "Is Donald Trump The Next Julius Caesar" Gaius Julius Caesar - Note this is not an Ancient Roman sculpture, just a beautifully made Renaissance one by, 'Andrea di Pietro di Marco Ferrucci' in the 16th Century. The first thing we need to ask ourselves is why the comparison in the first place? What does Julius Caesar, a man who lived over 2000 years ago, have to do with the modern politics of The United States? -------------------- Let's set the scene then. --------------------- Where was 'Gaius Julius Caesar' born? Rome, July 12th, 100 B.C. Ok, what was Rome like during this time? Rome was a Republic, and a regional superpower of the Mediterranean. And what did Julius Caesar do during his lifetime? Caesar would carry the flag of Rome's disenfranchised against the corrupt elite Senatorial Class of Rome, restoring it to it's former glory. This is technically correct, but something feels...off about this generalization. This is where many will hide in their attempts to persuade someone that Trump is the next Caesar. By oversimplifying the past, we can rewrite within its fog. Here we are again having to go deeper in order to prevent ourselves from misjudging our current situation. Why do people make the Comparison?In truth? To point out the bad guy they don't like. Julius Caesar to many on the left is seen as a right wing dictator that broke a democratic institution for his own personal gain, hence why this lines up with modern day Trump comparisons, even if they are utterly incorrect in doing so.Comparing someone to Hitler is done in the same way, whilst ignoring the conditions and situations of the time that gave way to that horror. But I think we need to do something first, since this is DGG and your Roman history is lacking, we need to figure out who this Julius Caesar character is! Don't let Shakespeare cloud your notions, Caesar is a TOP 10 most influential human to ever live for not just for his political exploits, but also his personal, and especially his military ones. Because believe it or not, the situation is much more complicated than articles such as this would have you believe: Politico - https://www.politico.com/news/magazine/2020/11/03/donald-trump-julius-caesar-433956#:~:text=Over%202%2C000%20years%20ago%2C%20the,power%20and%20eroding%20political%20debate. THE LATE ROMAN REPUBLICThe Roman Senate discussing whether or not helping the plebians will impact Lebron's legacy. What many people fail to mention when comparing someone like Trump to Julius Caesar, was the political situation of Caesar's country at the time. Caesar was born into a noble family, but a middling one. Not high on the rungs, but not falling off the social ladder. His father had aligned himself with the famous Gaius Marius, and served politically intertwined with him. Caesar's family was married into Marius' as well. General Marius was one of the most important military commanders of Roman history. A hardworking can do no nonsense winner that took the world on with his bare hands. The ideal Roman in many people's eyes, and the genius protégé of the great Scipio Aemilianus, the man who razed Carthage in the Third-Punic War. Marius would reform the military during his many Consulships, and pass legislation to have Roman armies be paid by their Generals and State, with uniform gear being provided to them, instead of having to largely bring their own during a levy. \note* A Roman "*Consul" was the highest office one could obtain in The Republic. After The Roman Kings were thrown away, no one man could hold power unless in extreme circumstance. (We will get there) There were two consuls serving at the same time, and held power for one year together. Every month, they would switch off ruling and legislating The Republic, this month to month exchange system is known as "Holding Fasces". Whoever held fasces, would be in power for that month, then hand fasces over to the other Consul. In recent times, someone who always holds fasces would be called a "fascist". Yes this is where the most overused word in modern politics comes from. Fascism began in Italy after all. The biggest reason for this change however, was scale. The Roman Republic had a law that stipulated all soldiers must be land owners. (Gives soldiers a bigger reason to fight with something to lose) Well when you have hundreds of thousands of slaves and noble elites buying up more land to deploy their increasing number of slaves on; this presents a problem. With these reforms, many of the urban poor and disenfranchised could now become soldiers, and be guaranteed land and pay for service. This did have a very interesting side effect, those poor and hungry young men who joined the Roman military, would now have a chance to get crazy wealth off of military victories. The plundering of cities and tribes wasn't new, but now any average joe could gamble his life on the possibility of riches from just a single victory. Who's largely responsible for how your future turns out now? Your General. If your general was a loser, you'd be poorer and miss the chance of gaining fortune and glory. (And you'd probably die under a shit general) So, when a good general comes around, and wins many battles, and plunders many enemies and brings fame, honor, and fortune to his soldiers, this turns them into The General's soldiers, not Rome's. Because it was my commander that made my life better, who made the decisive moves in battle that not only protected my life, but made my life so much better than the Roman state had. I owe him my life, my wealth, and my honor. Marius would end up falling on his own sword with this policy change. The now old General wanted to take command over conquest into the wealthy Eastern Mediterranean, only, someone else already had this command...Sulla. Sulla without his nose. Unfortunate really. Lucius Cornelius Sulla, a lifelong rival and antagonist to Marius and his allies. Old Marius had gone too far this time. Upon hearing the news, that his upcoming conquests of the rich and bountiful Eastern Kingdoms was revoked and given to his rival, he reportedly said to his angry soldiers; That command against Mithridates was not to be by him, and the conquests of their rich kingdoms would go to other soldiers and not them. (Paraphrasing) The soldiers upon hearing this, would follow Sulla in any attempt to overturn this decision, as their entire lives were now worse than they were promised. They would have to watch others gain the life they themselves were not allowed to, because of some last minute law. Sulla would then march on Rome. The first Roman General to do so with their own army. (Armies were prohibited from the Capital by law) Sulla would outlaw Marius, yes the actual guy got outlawed. (And his family) Then Sulla returned to command the conquest against Mithridates in the East. With no Roman Army defending Rome (Because armies in the capital is illegal) Sulla changed the Law by force, and gave himself back the command that was ("legally") stolen from him. Sulla argued he was saving Rome from tyrants when he did this. That Marius was benefitting himself over The Roman State. Eventually, problems got worse while Sulla was away in the East, and when he returned...vengeance was incurred. The First Roman Civil War... THE PURGE - PROSCRIPTIONhttps://preview.redd.it/96oc4b1a5ydc1.png?width=400&format=png&auto=webp&s=b799d523a67dc89d38322cd66dd8df2fed78d606 Sulla would enact purges of The Roman Senatorial Class called "The Proscriptions" after winning his civil war. On a notice board near the buildings of Government, bounties would be placed on Sulla's political enemies. Those that Sulla deemed as "Enemies of The Republic" were proscribed. If you killed a proscribed person, you and The Roman State would be entitled to a portion of their land and wealth. This tore families and friends apart, when one family member was deemed unworthy in the eyes of Sulla, lustful allies of friend and foe alike would jump on them like lions. From poor people raiding luxury estates, to wives killing their husbands, these purges sent Rome into a blood fueled power struggle and cleansing. Anyone harboring a proscribed person was handed the death penalty, this went on for months. Historian Plutarch accounts the horror in his work: "Life of Sulla" Plutarch writes: Sulla now busied himself with slaughter, and murders without number or limit filled the city. Many, too, were killed to gratify private hatreds, although they had no relations with Sulla, but he gave his consent in order to gratify his adherents. At last one of the younger men, Caius Metellus, made bold to ask Sulla in the senate what end there was to be of these evils, and how far he would proceed before they might expect such doings to cease. "We do not ask thee," he said, "to free from punishment those whom thou hast determined to slay, but to free from suspense those whom thou hast determined to save." And when Sulla answered that he did not yet know whom he would spare, "Well, then," said Metellus in reply, "let us know whom thou intendest to punish." This Sulla said he would do. Some, however, say that it was not Metellus, but Fufidius, one of Sulla's fawning creatures, who made this last speech to him. Be that as it may, Sulla at once proscribed eighty persons, without communicating with any magistrate; and in spite of the general indignation, after a single day's interval, he proscribed two hundred and twenty others, and then on the third day, as many more. Referring to these measures in a public harangue, he said that he was proscribing as many as he could remember, and those who now escaped his memory, he would proscribe at a future time. He also proscribed any one who harboured and saved a proscribed person, making death the punishment for such humanity, without exception of brother, son, or parents, but offering any one who slew a proscribed person two talents as a reward for this murderous deed, even though a slave should slay his master, or a son his father. And what seemed the greatest injustice of all, he took away the civil rights from the sons and grandsons of those who had been proscribed, and confiscated the property of all. Moreover, proscriptions were made not only in Rome, but also in every city of Italy, and neither temple of God, nor hearth of hospitality, nor paternal home was free from the stain of bloodshed, but husbands were butchered in the embraces of their wedded wives, and sons in the arms of their mothers. Those who fell victims to political resentment and private hatred were as nothing compared with those who were butchered for the sake of their property, nay, even the executioners were prompted to say that his great house killed this man, his garden that man, his warm baths another. Quintus Aurelius, a quiet and inoffensive man, who thought his only share in the general calamity was to condole with others in their misfortunes, came into the forum and read the list of the proscribed, and finding his own name there, said, "Ah! woe is me! my Alban estate is prosecuting me." And he had not gone far before he was dispatched by some one who had hunted him down.https://penelope.uchicago.edu/ThayeE/Roman/Texts/Plutarch/Lives/Sulla*.html The luxuries of your family could get you killed because they could be seized. Sulla had himself appointed as "Dictator" by the Senate, a Roman emergency office that granted one man absolute authority to deal with crisis. This had a term limit of 6-months, Sulla's didn't have one. \Note* Yes this is where we get the word "*Dictator" from, it was an appointed position of The Roman Republic during times of great panic. As time went on, the idea of one man being absolute ruler without checks and balances would be described with this word, thus moving from an actual official position, to a conceptual *one, like we see today with say, "*President *Xi Jinping", or "*President Putin". Monarchies being an exception to this description. At any moment, your name could appear on the proscription board, and you were over. With no reason other than Sulla wanted you erased. You were an enemy of The Republic. If you were proscribed, your sons and possibly grandsons would be barred of holding any government office for 30 years, if they weren't killed by the mob. Sulla sought to rebuild the Republic through blood and fire, quickly and brutally solving the problems he deemed to be so. So I preface all of this to say...Julius Caesar saw all of this. Romans murdering and betraying other Romans by use of a legal purge, and this is just one small part of The Late Republican Period. Caesar was the son-in law of one of Sulla's biggest enemies, Cinna. A teenage Caesar reportedly fled the city with the help of relatives. Sulla would later say he should've killed Caesar when he had the chance, as reported by Plutarch in his volume; "Life of Caesar" Plutarch writes: The wife of Caesar was Cornelia, the daughter of the Cinna who had once held the sole power at Rome, and when Sulla became master of affairs, he could not, either by promises or threats, induce Caesar to put her away, and therefore confiscated her dowry. Now, the reason for Caesar's hatred of Sulla was Caesar's relationship to Marius. For Julia, a sister of Caesar's father, was the wife of Marius the Elder, and the mother of Marius the Younger, who was therefore Caesar's cousin. Moreover, Caesar was not satisfied to be overlooked at first by Sulla, who was busy with a multitude of proscriptions, but he came before the people as candidate for the priesthood, although he was not yet much more than a stripling. To this candidacy Sulla secretly opposed himself, and took measures to make Caesar fail in it, and when he was deliberating about putting him to death and some said there was no reason for killing a mere boy like him, he declared that they had no sense if they did not see in this boy many Mariuses. When this speech was reported to Caesar, he hid himself for some time, wandering about in the country of the Sabines. Then, as he was changing his abode by night on account of sickness, he fell in with soldiers of Sulla who were searching those regions and arresting the men in hiding there. Caesar gave their leader, Cornelius, two talents to set him free, and at once went down to the sea and sailed to King Nicomedes in Bithynia. With him he tarried a short time, and then, on his voyage back, was captured, near the island Pharmacusa, by pirates, who already at that time controlled the sea with large armaments and countless small vessels.https://penelope.uchicago.edu/ThayeE/Roman/Texts/Plutarch/Lives/Caesar*.html Caesar being closely tied and related to Sulla's enemies, had to flee his home and live on the run as a young man, eventually being captured by pirates. (Whom he would later have crucified after half joking to them that he would) "No friend ever served me, and no enemy ever wronged me, whom I have not repaid in full. " - Sulla (I think of DGG when reading this quote, great love to Ana in her fight against Russia, and then well...Hamasabi) THE FULL PICTUREhttps://preview.redd.it/utvz196l5ydc1.png?width=1119&format=png&auto=webp&s=f2c7c1b9960441c70485de0f9173593f11f0afe8 I give all of this context to simply say, The Republic that Julius Caesar was born into, was ad infinitum more volatile and deadly and bloody and broken, than anything Donald Trump has faced. Everything stated so far happened before Caesar could be eligible for his drivers license. It is politically and socially and militarily impossible for Donald Trump to be compared to Julius Caesar outside of character traits, but whenever people make such comparisons, they leave the context for Caesar's actions in the void, so as to say like POLITICO did 4 years ago that many have come to parrot: However unprecedented these times might feel, it’s a decision as old as democracy itself. Over 2,000 years ago, the Republic on which America was modeled faced the same choice. The Donald Trump of his day, Julius Caesar, promised to return Rome to an imagined ancient glory—but instead constructed himself a throne, bulldozing democratic norms, ignoring checks on his power and eroding political debate. Rome chose to follow Caesar, putting the famed Republic on a glide path to destruction.By TIM ELLIOTT Any Roman Historian worth their salt knew the Republic was well on the path towards destruction before Caesar ever held any power. (As shown with Sulla) Julius Caesar was a result of The Republics failure, not the catalyst for it. To say Caesar was the "Donald Trump of his day" is a huge disservice to not only Caesar, but the problems he faced during his lifetime. Now, could one say that Donald Trump is a result of our Constitutional Federalist Republic's failure? Maybe...maybe that's the question those on the left should be asking themselves; "How did we get here? What do we have to do better so that this doesn't happen?" "BUT"You cannot say that Trump is like Julius Caesar within the same context.Donald Trump should be looked at for what he is, do not risk conflating his actions with that of someone else operating within a different circumstance. Julius Caesar marched on Rome after he was declared an enemy of the state for not giving up his legal immunity. Laws passed by Caesar were much needed to save The Republic from collapse, such as his land reform bill, or the grain dole. He was willing to stand down as long The Republic and Pompeii also stood down with him, they chose not to. Donald Trump lost an election, and believes he didn't actually lose and the game is rigged against him. Feeding into his supporters idea's of a "deep state" controlling who's in power and who isn't. He runs for office to give himself legal immunity against pending charges. While there are similarities one can draw, it is extremely important to understand what is happening now so we can solve the now. Not try and frame a historical figure to the present because it makes more sense in our heads to do so. Now let's be sensible historians, and try to figure out what they have in common that actually matters. What traits do they both have that will help us maybe see things more clearly today? Let's learn history in a way that is truthful so that we may be ready for tomorrow. POPULISMMark Antony speaking during Caesar's funeral. Let's flip this script shall we? Both Julius Caesar and Donald Trump appeal to "the people" but in what ways are they the same, and other ways might they be different? Caesar would paint his own actions as for the people, even if they were to serve himself or "The First Triumvirate". Anything Caesar did was for "the good of The Republic". Donald Trump offers a similar message, often saying what he his doing is fighting for "the common man" in D.C. against the swamp of elitist, who are responsible for their plight. Both are no doubt populist, but what someone should ask is; "Why is populism being generated right now? What social or economic ills are creating this problem? Is the problem real? If so, how do you fix it? If not, how do you tell the people that their problems don't exist without being crucified...perhaps literally in Caesar's case. In Caesar's time, the social ills are very present and problematic. The Social War, Sulla vs Marius Civil War, rampant piracy in the Mediterranean, the largest slave revolt in human history led by Spartacus, bribes were a must for political success, Roman Law had become confusing and more random than ever leading to incredible insecurity on the legal level, veterans not getting what they're owed (kinda true now), and welfare being taken advantage of by those who don't legally qualify. Oh and the upper class just got beheaded. In Trump's time, The United Sates has had unprecedented economic growth coincided with great peace and less violence than ever. The quality of life for the average American has gone up, and the military has become optional rather than forced. Immigration is an issue, prices are inconsistent and wages need to be worked on. Medicine is obscenely expensive, and the divide between poor and rich has never been greater. In my opinion, one of these is just not like the other. Caesar's populism, while obviously self serving, was absolutely reasonable for it's time. Roman society was caving and could be seen collapsing. The same can be said with Napoleon during "The French Revolution", both are dictators who gained massive wealth and power unto themselves during times of great instability, but that's what you get when you have the power to solve the problems. These two lived during the MOST chaotic times. But both Napoleon and Caesar were extremely effective policy makers, effective governors, and the most effective General's in human history...Donald Trump is not. Let's look at Caesar's first Consulship in 60 B.C. and see what sort of policies he was able to enact in just one year:
I would expect more of a bite from a dog that's so loud, and I honestly don't mind populism on the surface because it's a symptom of our most pressing problems that need to be addressed. My issues arise when the populist doesn't do what they said they would do. When they are ineffective in their policy and a bad representation for their voters. The populist is elected because they hear the problems of the masses when others don't, so when they do nothing about those problems or make them worse, what fucking good are ya? And here lies the great difference between Caesar and Trump: Julius Caesar could back up his populist rhetoric with effective policy measures and action, Donald Trump does not. So now we find ourselves in the situation we are currently in, problems constantly being talked about whilst nothing is truly done about them. Donald Trump is not the next Julius Caesar, because then I would believe problems would at least be dealt with somehow. Donald Trump is his own beast, one that barks so loud many can't notice how his hands aren't actually doing anything beyond beckoning you to feed him more of your attention. That is the danger of Trump, that all his political rhetoric doesn't involve change, but simply ideas and messages. Doing things because they feel good rather than making good. Look at January 6th, there was nothing that mob could've done to overturn the election, yet they stormed the building anyway. He is happy to watch others burn his enemies for him, with nothing to gain but personal gratification. https://preview.redd.it/skhigq526ydc1.png?width=630&format=png&auto=webp&s=e5f01fef82331bbf711069779a2e79bef6c25916 Vanity of Vanity, All is Vanity. Senators such as Cicero and Cato The Younger, were unable to dislodge Caesar from power because his actions backed up his words so well. He always had a track record of success to fall back on. By using this, he was able to leverage the people into believing he was the one who could solver their problems and not the Senate. It is my opinion that Democrats do not target Trump's center of gravity enough, the plight of his voters. Trump does not have the political success like Caesar to fall back on, so Democrats need to undercut him by addressing the things to these people that matter. Let's not underestimate him in the slightest when it comes to this election. My home slice Cicero even agreed with what Caesar wanted sometimes! He just hated that Caesar used the military to change The Republic rather than changing it through the institutions and laws that governed it. All too common Cicero W. Cicero Smoking That Caesarian Pack "The wise are instructed by reason, average minds by experience, the stupid by necessity and thebrute by instinct." - Cicero - BlossomyLion |