#Source : Siren Cult

[thesirencult]

I want you to think of yourself as a GODDESS. As a powerful being, capable of moving the tides of your own life by your own will.

Consider yourself a sacred creation brought into this world to live a life of abundance and fulfillment.

#success #self care #self love #self development #sacred feminine #femininity #femme fatale #feminine energy #divine feminine #female worship #healing #high value mindset #high value woman #111 #the sacred feminine #Source : Siren Cult

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Fragile - a Malevlent fic (Intermezzo spoilers)

Arthur got low in Larson’s house. He hit bedrock; he admitted, brokenly, that they won.

John didn’t let him drown. Which is ironic, because John was already drowning.

Spoilers for Intermezzo.

AO3

———-

Humans were fragile.

John knew this. He’d known it since before he was ‘John,’ when wicked memories seeped through the torment of loss and damnation.

Arthur was fragile, too.

John did not know this, and this new and acidic knowledge threatened the unset foundation John had built his everything upon. 

#

Your hands, Arthur. You have broken pieces of his eyes under your thumbnails.

Hardly like John hadn’t done things like that  when King, hadn’t done things like that for Kayne, hadn’t torn people apart until he knew them down to the cellular level. It wasn’t that eyeballs were gross, or the violence was too much; it was that Arthur was the one who did it.

Arthur. Who’d stayed so strong through cult and coma. Who’d kept his head in the prison pits, and forgiven John more than any saint could.

Who’d cut his own damn throat to keep the King from winning.

John knew it had been less than a day for Arthur. (It had been… longer, for him.) Less han a day. How could Arthur change so much in less than a day?

“I…” Arthur sounded fucked.

Instinctively, John tried a lever, tried to use that name to prize Arthur from the mud. Imagine what she would think. Faroe wouldn’t want her father to be this. To lose himself in this way.

The lever did not work, and Arthur slumped down, bleeding, and wept. “I’m lost,” he said, and It was a terrible sound. “I’ve lost. I’ve sunk too far.”

Less than a godsdamned day.

No, said John, scrambling in the wake of shock. I know you, my friend. You are in there. You saved me before. (Arthur had, everything he’d done, everything he’d said, had saved John in the Dark World, had kindled his only lingering light and hope. Arthur could not lose. He could not sink. If Arthur did…)

John vowed: I will not let you drown.

Arthur sobbed.

A good sob? A broken one? Don’t be scared. 

“They’ve won, John,”  Arthur wept in a high, unrecognizable voice. “He won. Faust. I… I wanted to kill him. I wanted to fill his blood within my hands. I wanted to feel the crunch of his bones beneath my palms. They won.”

This couldn’t be happening.

No.

No.

Arthur was his light. Arthur was his hope. The source of a purpose in a life so short, the proof they didn’t have to win!

Kayne’s voice might only be in his head, but it rang cruelly true: If he was this wrong about not letting them win, what does that say about his hope for you?

No!

Humans were fragile. Arthur was less fragile than most, but still human, and John...

John knew what to do. 

He was ashamed of it, this innate, easy understanding of manipulation, of control, of (pleasure it had always brought him pleasure as the King) pretty words to make Arthur do what he wanted, to shift Arthur’s sails and steer him from the rocks.

He felt ill. Sick. He shouldn’t do this. Good people did not think like this.

Would it really be “good” to let Arthur wreck on the rocks of himself?

It would not (and John told himself it was for Arthur’s sake and not to shore up his own cracking foundation), and so John made his choice. Followed his instinct, and manipulated. How could they have won? We’re nowhere near finished.

That was the exact right delivery, and it snagged Arthur’s attention like a lure (fish, Arthur, now caught). 

Next, communication the way Arthur thought in his quietest hours: Whose woods these are, I think I know... Because Arthur thought in music and poems. Because Arthur’s sobs slowed as John quoted, pulling the verses from the shared well of their mind. 

My horse must think it queer, to stop without a farmhouse near... Because Arthur might deny that gloriously artistic part of himself (of which John, as King, was keenly aware), but he could not resist the siren-song of rhythm and introspection and beauty, and he’d listen to this when he’d kick all else in the teeth. 

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, but I have promises to keep… and miles to go before I sleep. He would not lose this man today (maybe if the King had used poetry instead of compound fractures, he would have gotten somewhere). And miles to go before I sleep.

It worked. (Of course it worked. It had to work. It was back to the Dark World if this didn’t work.) Arthur, as John knew he would, responded. “I’m sorry, John,” he said, and he finally sounded like Arrhur again. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

(He’d missed him so much, his changeability, his chosen softness.) I’m sorry, too.

“Why? For what? You…”

For what?

For what he’d done to get back here.

For the lies he’d told.

For the wickedness he’d wrought.

For—

For leaving you for so long. But that was too close to the truth of things Arthur must never know. Now. Let’s leave this place.

“No,” said Arthur (because his stubbornness took no time at all to reassert itself). “We need to help those people. Down in the mines.”

And there he was. The Arthur Lester of John’s imagining. The flawed but willingly good human, the anchor to which John clung, the mortal for whom he’d debased himself, for whom he’d died.

He’d done… so many things to stop being dead. Arthur (canonized in memory, precarious on his pedestal) would never understand.

How could he? Arthur was human. Humans were fragile. And even Arthur had people he would not forgive.

He could never know. It’s a new beginning, Arthur. A clean slate. For both of them.

“No, no. Not a clean slate.”

John’s metaphorical heart clenched. No? I thought that’s what you wanted.

“That was easier than to remember what I’ve learned, what I’ve preached, not only to you but myself… that we can’t escape these things we’ve done,” said Arthur, fragile human, with no idea he was telling John that John was beyond hope.

John had to escape the things he’d done. He had to.

This confirmed it all: If Arthur knew what John had done, he’d never forgive him, and that flickering hope-light in would finally go out.

John couldn’t really reply. Okay.

“But it still is another,” said Arthur, sounding like his soul had shed a thousand pounds. “And I’d rather greet a new day like an old friend—with fondness and appreciation.”

Oh, Arthur. How did that fragile hope always survive? (He could never know.) Okay, Arthur.

“My friend. Let’s leave this place.”

And of course, Uncle’s body was still there, still shaking Arthur with reminders of savagery.  “I… I lost…”

Damn it. You’ve beaten yourself up enough over this, Arthur. It’s fine.

It clearly was not fine. “You’re right,” lied Arthur Lester.

Nope. Misdirection time (and John refused to think how easily the manipulation came). Oh! There’s a corpse in the bed.

And just like that, the detective switch was flipped, and finally, Arthur actually was fine.

It would all be fine.

It had to be fine.

The danger was past. John would never, ever need to tell him what he’d done. Arthur would continue to hope in John. It would be fine.

He couldn’t handle all that horror, anyway, John told himself as they dove into mystery and memory. Arthur was fragile, after all.

#malevolent #malevolent fanfic #arthur lester #john malevolent #john & arthur #intermezzo #intermezzo spoilers #malevolent spoilers

[lulu2992]

Exploration of the now-offline Far Cry 5 official websites

Part 11: Faith Seed

Recovered content

This was Faith’s description on the American website, added on or before July 13th, 2017:

THE SIREN FAITH SEED Once you fall under Faith’s spell, you’re a goner. As Joseph’s voice, Faith acts as a divine instrument of chaos to keep the congregation in a state of bliss.

On or before March 27th, 2018, the text remained the same, but a video was included.

This is the video:

The last time this page was archived was on February 7th, 2020.

Her description was identical on the European website.

Commentary

There isn’t much to say about the (short) description except that everything is still true. Watching the Cult Vignette video is almost more informative than reading the text...

I think “divine instrument of chaos” sounds great, though!

Under the cut are all the available source files, saved directly from the website, of the images you see in the screenshots:

#far cry 5 #faith seed #rachel not jessop #eden’s gate

[aspenofthehedge]

La Culta de Le Sirene: Siren Veneration in Ancient Naples

I’ve been wanting to talk about this for a really long time, since Siren veneration has become really important to my revivalism both as a Hellenic Polytheist and Italian Folk Practicioner. So without further ado, here’s a little bit about the Ancient Siren Cult + some UPG just for funsies ☺️

Who are the Sirens?

While many people today see Sirens as synonymous with mermaids, the ancient Greeks actually viewed them as half woman half bird creatures who personified both the beauty and treachery travelers face at sea or in the mountains. While their mythical origins vary, they were commonly attributed to be the daughters of the Muse Melpomene (the Muse of Tragedy) and the River Achelous.

In one variation, they were handmaidens of Persephone, who fled when she was abducted by Haides. Demeter, angry that they didn’t aid in the search for her daughter, cursed them to take their half bird form and that they should have to live out their days luring men to their deaths until a man should pass by unaffected by their song and they would be forced to drown themselves in the sea.

Later depictions of sirens throughout the centuries would morph into the mermaid image most people are familiar with, especially after Rome took over. They went from the classic bird-woman image, to a woman riding two seahorses, then eventually emerging in the 7th century as the double-tailed mermaid you might be familiar with if you’ve ever passed by a Starbucks.

Veneration in Ancient Naples

Before Naples was renamed, it was once called Parthenopolis, named after the siren Parthenope, one of the sirens who tries to lure Odysseus and his crew to their deaths. Upon failing to do so, the Sirens drowned themselves in the sea, but Parthenope’s body was said to have washed up on the shores of Naples, where a temple was built in her honor in what is now Sorrento.

From then on, she was considered to be the mother and protectress of the city of Parthenopolis, held in such high regard that being Neopolitan was considered synonymous with being a “child of Parthenope.” Not much is known about the specifics of the Siren cult, but we do know that the Oracle had decreed for an annual torch race to be held in honor of her.

Through the centuries, the image of the Siren remained integral to the cultural identity of Naples, even being used as a symbol to ward off il malocchio (the evil eye). To this day the image of the Siren or mermaid is considered a symbol of abundance.

✨UPG! ✨

Parthenope appears to me in both mermaid and bird-woman form, depending on the mood. She is fiercely protective and takes her motherly aspect very seriously. That being said, she also has a devious side and won’t hesitate to stir the pot a little if she thinks it will get her point across. She is excellent at helping to foster self-expression and authenticity, and likes to help with protection, glamour magick, and shadow work.

Offerings/Devotional Activities she likes include:

• Music! Especially singing, but playing an instrument or making a devotional playlist make great offerings too! (She’s a big Florence and the Machine fan, in my experience)

• Poetry, Art, or any other creative endeavor.

• Feathers

• Seashells

• Driftwood

• Cool Rocks

• Rose Quartz

• Ocean Jasper

• Sea Salt

• Tea

• Self Care Routines

• Journaling

• Anything really, as long as it’s thoughtfully given💕

Sources!

#hellenic polytheism #italian folk magic #witchblr #siren #Parthenope #the odyssey #siren veneration

[nighttimeebony]

Complaining about the love triangle in Wednesday, and complaining about Xavier and Tyler's (but mostly Xavier's) existence as characters. Spoilers and bitching below the cut.

I just don’t understand how two characters with actual superpowers managed to be so boring and unoriginal. Especially Xavier, who was already established as having a connection with Wednesday from their childhood. And considering his superpowers, they could have made it so that his personality compliments his superpowers, like we see with other characters.

Bianca is a siren, so she’s charismatic, confident, and ruthless. It makes sense that the school’s queen bee is a siren. Enid is a werewolf, so her personality is exactly like that of an energetic puppy; she’s friendly, sociable, but she’s also got more than a bit of a temper when provoked.

Xavier can make his artwork come to life, but he also has prophetic dreams, so he’s… mopey and emotionless. He’s not even creepy.

Since we know that he and Wednesday met when they were children, he could have been creepy and macabre like her and the rest of her family. If Xavier was allowed to be creepy or even remotely weird, he would have made for a nice contrast to the other characters’ friendliness while also giving Wednesday something familiar to help her navigate an unfamiliar environment.

Xavier also could have been one of the reasons why Wednesday would actually want to stay at Nevermore aside from the murder mystery she feels compelled to solve. While Wednesday does grow to love and appreciate characters like Enid and Eugene, at the start, Wednesday and Enid have basically nothing in common, and Enid seems to just get on her nerves more than anything else.

If you went the creepy, kooky and altogether ooky route with Xavier’s personality, Enid could then be the friend that gets Wednesday out of her comfort zone, while Xavier could be the friend that she just feels naturally comfortable with. She’d have someone that she could trade banter and dark jokes with, the only person that isn’t immediately put-off by her, the first person she meets outside of her family that would just get her. Then the romance between them would actually make sense.

And they could have done this!

One of Wednesday’s first real smiles of the series is when Xavier reminds her of the day they met at the funeral. But no. Xavier had to spend the rest of the season being weirdly infatuated with Wednesday, despite him having no reason to be, and also playing into the “nice guy” trope when Wednesday doesn’t return his feelings.

The show never even attempts to make you care about either Xavier or Tyler. Sure, Tyler has dead mom syndrome, but Tyler never expresses how he actually feels about it. He never reminisces on any fond memories he might have had of his mother or anything he knows about her, a fact that is especially weird in a show that uses family to develop its characters.

Wednesday is a character basically defined by the family she’s apart of, and in the show she is desperate to get out from her parents’ shadow (a weird choice, but at least a choice was made). But more than that, it’s established that she readily protects people from bullies because of the way her brother was bullied at school. While she states that she wants nothing more than to escape her parents’ shadow, it’s also shown that she inherited a lot of her interests and values from her parents, and that she would not be the person she is without them.

Enid’s biggest insecurity is the fact that she hasn’t “wolfed out” yet like the rest of her siblings, and that it has estranged her from her family and made her a source of disappointment for her mother.

Bianca’s whole character conflict is the fact that her mother is a cult leader that uses her siren abilities to manipulate her followers, and she’s trying to make Bianca follow in her footsteps, which Bianca fiercely rebels against.

But Xavier? We know literally nothing about his family, his past, or if he even has a life outside of Wednesday. Like, the only story from his past is the story of how he met Wednesday. We later learn that he and Bianca used to date, but why? We never learn the reason why they got together, but we know the reason they broke up: Xavier dumped her because he thought she was using her Siren powers on him (which she wasn’t). Great, so the only thing we learn from that is that Xavier is a racist dick and that Bianca, apparently, has no taste in men, considering that she spends a frustratingly long amount of time trying to get back together with him.

The reveal of this relationship only brings up more questions than it actually answers. Why did they get together? What did Bianca ever see in Xavier? Why did Xavier get into a relationship with her in the first place if the reason he broke up with her was because he thought she was manipulating him? But also, what evidence did he have to come to this conclusion in the first place? Especially if we know that Bianca wasn’t manipulating him?? Which, if we’re following that line of thought, what did Xavier even like about Bianca? All we ever learn about their relationship is one line of dialogue from Bianca, where she says that they were “good together”, but were they? How? It just doesn’t make any sense, and it’s really stupid.

The more I think about Xavier as a character, the angrier he makes me, because he really was just so unnecessary. The only use he has is to set up a love triangle and be an alternative suspect in Wednesday’s investigation. Basically, he only exists to get framed and make Wednesday feel vaguely guilty about inadvertently arresting the wrong person.

#wednesday #xavier thorpe #tyler galpin #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #bianca barclay #wednesday netflix #this doesn't really qualify as an anti shipping post but its not a pro shipping post so how tf do i tag this #shipping criticism? #yeah i guess that works #wednesday criticism

[st7arlight]

actually im going to post this here because i feel like you guys would love this: an analysis of Jane Prentiss and The Crawling Rot from the perspective of a queer person with OCD and frankly too much trauma lmao

CW/TW for jane prentiss, misogyny, sex culture, addiction, and talk of abusive relationships of all flavors

My latest post is a little bit of a commentary on the tie of eroticism with the body in its barest form and the societal stigma of body hair on the female form. something about the supposed revulsion of body hair on a "woman", when Jane Prentiss is far beyond the point of a woman here. When she died and became the Hive she obviously wouldn't have been at the absolute physical peak of eroticism- she was struggling with delusions and compulsions and the siren song of The Crawling Rot. I also find that the bare legs (eroticism) paired with hairy underarms gives a unique view on the objectification of AFAB people in society. Jane Prentiss is a woman but she is also the thousands of wasp maggots living in the husk that is her body. being the epitome of eroticism with her form and legs and dress but showing decay/waste/disease/offness in her flesh is very true to her purpose. I was also deliberate in having the maggots and holes so small on her body. She is supposed to look not only fairly normal, but attractive from a first glance. It is only when you look closer that you realize that something is horribly wrong. I had intended to give her skin more discoloration but given the time period I had planned this to be (sometime around the events of Timothy Hodge's statement, MAG 6) I think the illusion of clear skin from a distance works very well.

In terms of the greater symbolism of The Crawling Rot (and the source of most of the content warnings):

its important to me how essential the idea of eroticism is to Jane's manifestation of the Corruption- the corruption is gross icky buggy things but its also sexual abuse, power imbalances, toxic relationships, cults. it's the nausea you feel when you learn that someone has exploited you for something you never wanted to give, it's the fear of your consent being undermined. its the confliction of loving someone and knowing they are corrupting you but still not wanting to lose the wholeness you feel with them. It's a friend who convinces you to steal or drink or smoke or fuck then some then all or worse with them because it will make you feel better, more whole, more connected, but all it does is make you want to crawl out of your skin then burn your own corpse. this here is actually where i feel the corruption and the spiral & web tie together fairly well- all of them can feel like alternative perspectives on the same event, just focusing on different fears and traumas that could stem from it

#tma #the magnus archives #the corruption #the crawling rot #jane prentiss #tma jane prentiss #tma analysis #tma essay #tma theory #ramblings #mine #magnuspod #magnusposting #cw jane prentiss #tw abuse #tw sex abuse #tw drugs #tw misogyny #media analysis #love jonny and alex for not taking tma in directions that they dont have enough experience to feel comfy portraying #however that doesnt stop me from analyzing it in that way

[neonreflections23]

~Blissful Death~

Chapter 1

Fandom- Identity V

Paring- Naib Surbedar (Mercenary) x Oc

Au- Man in Red Essence, loosely following the essence trailer and skin descriptions.

Major Content Warnings- None.

Word Count- 1472

Chapter Summary- Ulysses had a hard life within the Safe Side of the woods, but it is much better than wondering to the other side where legends lie of a mysterious Man in Red. Yet when danger struck, he discovers the impossible.

Notes/Comments- This chapter is short thanks to the fact I was still feeling out the plot. Even if this specific chapter feels wonky alongside others I will post, I still had fun making it. Maybe I’ll update it and add more lore once I have proper set up for other chapters. I am not a major writer, so please don’t expect a refined clean product. This was made for fun and silly oc x canon shipping.

Beta Reader- @smittenroses

Next Chapter

Sweet singing blended with the peaceful forest ambiance. A voice full of tenderness and love.

It was Ulysses’s favorite pass time. They always would lay under the warm summer’s sun and let the tune of his heart flow. One could call the unicorn human a siren for such melodies that lured people in, but that was far from the case. Some wanted to steal the vocalist away from his home or outright snuff him out of this earth. To fear the extraordinary is human nature, but Ulysses is a person too. That is why he always sang to the neighboring town in the first place, to bring joy and understanding to corrupted hearts.

His trips to the town were a gamble as his days range from many people ignoring his performances to a crowd building as they were entranced by the pieces he sang to a mob of the townspeople driving him away. It was unpredictable. But singing was the only source of income he could make. He couldn’t do most work either due to many shunning him or thanks to his useless right eye he couldn’t see out. As long as he can remember, he was completely blind in that eye and no type of glasses or spectacles could ever aid him, which led to him wearing an eyepatch almost all his life. Though, the cause of the blindness was always a taboo subject for his mother to talk about as she never truly gave a straight answer and kept that secret until her death from a mysterious illness. To this day, he looks at his grayed-out blind eye and wonders why. Over time, he even accessorized the eyepatch into a star to honor his mother because she loved the stars in the sky, even if the eyepatch caused some to give confused looks his way.

Today was one of the harsher days for the young man as he once again was driven out of the town despite his efforts to stay. He didn’t want to go directly home this time around as singing made him feel better. The forest felt unnaturally quiet whenever they sang. No birds chirping, no squirrels scurrying away, only the rustling of trees. The sun is setting. It was like the world stopped, but that wasn’t the case. It was expected to feel this way with no audience.

Days were becoming like clockwork with the approaching fall, even when Ulysses started walking back to his home after a time, the leaves were already fluttering off their branches. Their way home was a long trek, but he knew the forest like the back of his hand, almost. Just far beyond the river that divided the wood, there are wilds beyond that no one dared venture. Villagers say there is death waiting for the unfortunate who lost their way while others rumor that a secret cult is conducted deep within the brush. Stories of a man in a deep rogue wandering the ruins of the decrepit wasteland. It was said he would curse or kidnap those who crossed paths with this mystery man, but their fate remains unknown. Whatever it is, not even he wanted to even go near the river’s divide.

Ulysses would eventually reach his house, but was greeted by a horrendous sight. Smashed windows. Destroyed furniture. Ripped cloth. All of his personal belongings were thrown outside the front door! He was filled with intense terror seeing that there were people inside still ransacking the now hollowed hobble.

“They didn't see me. If I sneak away now, I think I can escape with my life!” His mind raced as he hid away from sight. The barks and braying of mad dogs and horses were echoing out in the still air. Ulysses crawled through the underbrush trying to be as silent as possible. The forest itself was dense, but that was the only true aid it could give the unicornkin as they ducked and weaved hoping to avoid prying eyes. The growling of the dogs and the torchlight were still growing closer. They know he is trying to escape their grasp!

“Stop right there, Demon! You shall pay for casting spells on our children and wives!”

“Face your sins!”

“Stop running!”

Their lungs were on fire as they were full-on sprinting from their impending doom. He was in a desperate panic stumbling and tripping over the natural debris. The horde is growing closer. Water splashed as he waded through the current as fast as humanly possible. The torrent almost swept him away if it weren't for him grabbing at any rocks and fallen logs to help propel him forward.

Ulysses feebled onto the dry riverside gasping for burning air as he heaved as far as he could from the raging waters. When he looked back, the hunters stayed at the other side shouting and cursing the man. They tried to lead their horses into the water, but they were adamant about not entering, some even throwing off their riders before they could entertain the idea.

The river.

Ulysses blindly ran through the divide in an attempt to escape. The realization dawned on him and all he can do is watch in disbelief seeing the mob return to their territory, leaving the very thing they despised on his own devices, giving the legends of the Other Side another victim to claim

Regaining his strength, he picked himself up looking on to the forest beyond. The Safe Side was lush and full of life, here all he can see is a faded-away memory of what was a beautiful woodland.

“No wonder they wouldn’t dare enter here.” Ulysses pressed on. It already is deep into dusk and he only has oh so much daylight left before he can find shelter for the incoming night.

This side of the woods doesn't present itself as a place of horrors. It may have dead life all around, ranging from withering grass to frail trees and brush or lingering fog and mist, but it seems that it wasn’t natural at all. No fire or sickness can do this. This place once was a part of the larger ecosystem. What happened? The life here is sapped, or so he thought as he trudged deeper into the wasteland, now shivering from being soaked. White vines and butterflies were appearing. They were nothing like anything he had seen in the Safe Side. There was a strange relief seeing things thrive in such a hopeless place, glowing butterflies fluttering into the unknown. Guides? Maybe there is a haven where he can rest if he followed?

The fog hung low as the butterflies led him down further into the now sprawling expanse of vines and twisted trees. Was this Eden? Compared to the outer layer of the woods, everything is overtaken with such a pure coat of color. It was heavenly.

That’s when he stopped at what he can only guess is the center of all. The entire clearing was covered in white flowers of all kinds with the glowflies gliding without a care in the mass expanse. It was a beautiful sanctuary for them. A home. It was like they were leading the unicornkin to a proper resting place.

He was astonished taking it all in. Why would anyone be fearful of this side of the forest if it hides treasures such as these?! It is a garden of blessings that remained untouched for possibly an age! He couldn’t help giggling gleefully, chasing after the butterflies and dancing within the swaying flora, soon collapsing from the creeping exhaustion.

“I completely forgot I lost my home already. God. What am I going to do now? I am cold, I’m lost, and I have no home now. Today was a disaster.” He groaned, rubbing at his good eye. There was no bother in getting up. The night was here, yet the glow of the flowers and butterflies lit the area almost tricked him that it was day. Exhaustion was setting in. “I pray that tomorrow I can be in a warm bed and better clothes. I just wish things will be how they were. I just want peace.”

He drifted into a deep sleep lying within the flowers, their petals blanketing and comforting Ulysses as he was blissfully unaware of the true danger lurking close by.

“You will get your wish. After all, it isn’t every day a drifter follows the glow of my light. Rest in peace, my charming stranger. You will see me in your next life.” From the fog arose a long-haired man in red, he was adorned with butterflies and thorns adoring his figure, a walking figment of a waking dream. The Man In Red sat near and laid the limp drifter’s head onto his lap, humming a long-forgotten tune as the fog slowly overtook them.

#identity v #idv #oc #writing #fanfic #oc x canon #idv mercenary

[libraryspectre]

One of my favorite podcasts is a very small operation with a very small listenership, and I think they deserve more listeners, so here's my pitch for why you should listen to None of This is Real!

None of This is Real is a podcast about "all things mysterious and weird". That's a wide net, so here's some examples of things that might be discussed in any given episode:

- interesting or unexplained phenomenon in nature

- folkloric tales

- cults

- cryptids

- unusual art

- encounters with the supernatural

And much more!

The two hosts are good friends, so the tone is generally informal and often very funny. However, they are capable of handling sensitive subjects with the respect they deserve.

There are many podcasts that discuss topics like those listed above, but what makes None of This is Real stand out, in my opinion, is the attitude of the hosts. Host Sarah is more skeptical than host Damini, so there's a nice skeptic-believer dynamic. However, both of these ladies are very grounded in reality. They aren't willing to entertain ideas that are actively harmful or steeped in science denialism. On the other hand, they're very respectful of the closely-held beliefs of others, and actively discourage the idea that they're any kind of authority on what to believe. Each show ends with encouraging the listener to make the decision of what to believe themself. Also, despite being a skeptic, Sarah is not above being VERY spooked by a scary story, so that's fun.

I also appreciate how much they contextualize each topic, which is really important when discussing folklore and cryptids in particular. For example, in today's episode discussing the Broad French River Siren, they discuss the history of the river with the indigenous people, the history of how it was colonized, and the way siren stories can be either objectifying or empowering of women. I'm not claiming they're always perfect, but they're always trying and imo they usually do pretty well.

Quick list of other things I love about this podcast:

- nature. The hosts live in rural North Carolina and will frequently do things like stop the podcast to yell about the baby turkeys in the front yard

- they're great at citing their sources

- these women seem to attrack weird happenings. Stuff like, where did the tooth in Damini's bathroom rug come from? Why does Sarah keep finding fake leaves in the real woods?

- each show ends with asking a magic 8 ball questions about the topics, it's very fun

- sense of wonder, both at the natural world and the possibility of more. They're overflowing with it and it's infectious

They're on your podcasting platform of choice, I hope you decide to listen!

#none of this is real #podcast

[forthedancingandthethriving]

When they finally arrive, Lily shivers and sticks a bit closer to Lil Coding. He places a hand on her shoulder as the two begin walking. Though he soon removes his hand and his hand brushes against her back pocket. She can now feel a small cylinder in there. She can only guess it's a weapon that'll reform once taken out.

The coordinates transported them to an absolutely massive circular shapped room. They were standing on a bridge made of stone and concrete, however, and there was a platform in the middle that was also circular. On it was a lounging couch, fancy and a rose red.

There was a figure lounging on it, shrouded in a rose red cloak with green string-like vine patterns on it.

Lily swallows thickly and Lil Coding glares. It didn't seem like she had seem them yet, as her attention was focused on a cage dangling over the large pit around the platform.

Lily covers her mouth so as not to gasp. They don't look too hurt, but they're definitely scuffed. And worryingly, Mario and Luigi are missing.

Lil Coding says nothing as he changes to cat form. His color becomes muted as he leaps off of the bridge and onto one of the pillars in the room. Lily realizes what he's doing after a moment or two, and she looks back towards the person in the center.

Lady Rose. The source of her paranoia and fear for the past year.

The young girl inhales before walking forward. She doesn't even get halfway before a voice shouts "Stop right there!"

She halts, eyes going wide, and notices that Lady Rose has her attention on her now. "Right there, Lily, dear! That's as far as you can go for me, okay?"

Lily forces herself not to shiver at how sickeningly sweet Lady Rose's voice is. "Can you hear me from here?" she asks, eyebrows furrowing.

"Of course I can!" Lady Rose laughs, almost haughty. The young girl forces herself not to cringe.

"Well, I see you came alone." Lady Rose hums, picking up her wine glass from the floor. "I believe the little note that was left said for you and your little friend to come. Pray tell, why isn't he here?"

"I tampered with his teleport command before he activated it." Lily lies, glancing at the cage briefly. "It'll take him a while before he gets here, so.. you.. have me for a while." She glances back at Lady Rose.

"Hm.." the woman taps her finger against her glass before shrugging. "Ah well. I can wait for that other one. You've been the one I've been wanting for so long."

Lily watches, heart beating faster as Lady Rose sits up on the couch. "A full year I've been trying to get my hands on you, you little siren."

"Please.. don't call me that." Lily asks, voice small, but the older woman doesn't listen.

"How does your voice work again, hm? You need to consciously want to control someone in order to command them.." Lady Rose hums. "Meanwhile, if you just want to influence someone, it has to be a semi-conscious desire."

The young girl glances towards the cage, seeing Lil Coding slowly tampering with the lock. She quickly looks back at Lady Rose so as not to give away the other. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, that's how it works."

The leader of Rosen Stringer let's out a hum. She sets her wine glass down again and lowers her hood. Lily recoils, seeing the black hair, green eyes, and beautiful face of Lady Rose.

No wonder so many people joined her cult. She looks so charmastic.. Lily thought.

Lady Rose lifts her hand, and suddenly, the room begins to rumble. Lily gasps, and her eyes go wide, seeing large vines snake around the pillars. Thorns proturd out, and the young girl knows full well that this is a display of power.

Her chest feels tight. Her breathing is getting quicker. She finds herself hoping that Lil Coding hurries.

"Anton." Lady Rose suddenly speaks.

Lily gasps as she watches someone leap out from behind Lady Rose's couch. He all too easily makes the jump to the cage and he grabs Lil Coding by his scruff. Before her friend can even do anything, he's thrown towards one of the pillars, slamming against the vines.

"Lil Coding!" Lily cries, watching as the vines on the pillar move and restrain him. She watches him try and claw his way out, but lavender flowers appear in an abundance.

She can only watch in horror as her friend tries fruitlessly to get away, but the amount of lavender was making him calm despite his best efforts.

Lily can only watch as Anton leaps over to the restrained code and takes out a small knife, starting to carefully cut into the cat. As if to see what he was made off.

"How cute!" Lady Rose giggles, her voice somehow audible over the threats of bodily harm from the rest of the gang. "He managed to sneak in and tried to save them!"

Lily didn't respond, eyes focused on her friend who was struggling weakly against what Anton was doing to him. "N-no.."

Her friend, her best friend.. her brother.

Ringing consumes her hearing as she lowers her head, a shadow covering her eyes. Slowly, she reaches into her back pocket and pulls out the small cylinder. She watches as it reforms into Lil Coding's spear.

The spear he had shown her and said that he always used whenever it came down to fighting.

Lily felt something snap in her. She felt something shatter.

Blazing fury slowly took over her body, then her mind. She grips the spear so tight her knuckles turn white.

Slowly, she lifts her head, focusing on Lady Rose. "You.."

"You want my voice..?" Lily whispers, body shaking from how growing rage. "You wanna know how it works..?"

She slowly looks back up, some shadow still over her eyes but not as much as before. She was glaring fiercely at Lady Rose. "Fine." she mutters, and she feels a familiar shift. "I'll show you."

She slowly begins approaching, not even listening to what Lady Rose was saying. Some bullshit about how she'll be able to extend her grasp to the Mushroom Kingdom with Lily's voice.

She glances over to Anton and focuses solely on him. She opens her mouth and begins to sign some notes. Nothing too major, just slowly going up and down the scale, but it was still enough.

Anton slowly stopped his movements, and she watched as his eyes became unfocused. Blurry.

She slams the butt of the spear against the ground, vocalizing still. Anton is by her side in a moment, still looking dazed. Well, he always looked somewhat dazed whenever she spotted him, but he still looked like he was in control.

Now? He wasn't. And Lily found that, for once? She didn't feel guilty about it. Not one bit.

"You!" Lady Rose snarls. She steps to the side of the platform. She was trapped. Trapped, and she knew it. "I'll put you in your place!"

The cult leader's fingers snap, and Lily watches as the vines on the pillars lash out.

The girl doesn't even think. Her voice crescendos as she swings the spear towards the vines, the spear cutting them easily. Anton's body moves as well, like a robot following a command, slashing away at the vines.

Lily isn't really sure she's thinking anymore by the time she and Anton finish cutting the vines. She's vocalizing still, she hasn't stopped, she really can't if she wants this plan to work.

Her attention turns to Lady Rose and she focuses on the older woman. She doesn't care as Anton falls to his kneels as she walks forward.

Her voice crescendos again, her vocalizing zeroing in on Lady Rose.

She was gripping the spear so tightly that her knuckles were a bright white.

She wasn't sure when she started running, but she had seen Lady Rose go stiff, and she saw her chance. The vines had vanished, and Anton was still down.

Lily didn't know how many times she had swung at Lady Rose with the spear. She didn't know why, but she relished in it. She relished in finally being able to pay back all the pain she'd been experiencing for the past year.

So when her voice cracks and she coughs, momentarily breaking her control over Lady Rose, it's already too late. She cries as the cult leader grabs the back of her sweater and yanks the spear out of her hand, tossing it to the side.

"You.. brat.." Lady Rose sneers, all too easily picking up the struggling Lily.

The young girl's head was pounding. She had never exerted that much control before or even switched targets. She had just been so used to.. influencing people.

The woman threw Lily to the ground, uncaring for the young girl's cry as her back bet the cold stone of the platform. "I suppose I'll have to beat submission into you, hm?!"

Lily couldn't respond. Her head was pounding even more now and her vision was blurry. But she did register Lil Coding saying.. something.

She exhales and closes her eyes. Passing out.. seemed like a good idea.

○●○

"So that's why they've been chasing you, huh?" SMG3 frowns. "Well, I see why. Any sensible villain would- OW!"

He grumbles and rubs the back of his head after SMG4 whacked him with a glare.

"I'm just saying!" the Internet Graveyard ruler huffs.

SMG4 shakes his head before turning his attention to Lily. "How come you never told us? We would've helped you out with getting them off of your tail."

"I.. felt like I was being a big enough burden having Lil Coding help me," the young girl confesses. She was on the back of said being, apparently having been picked up by her once Lady Rose had been dealt with by Antivirus.

Sounded like yet another Admin she had yet to meet. But all she knew was that she "went down Disney villain style." Lil Coding's words, not hers.

"Plus.. I don't like my singing voice." She confesses. "I don't like how I need to consciously make sure I'm not influencing people."

"Mario thinks you don't need to worry about that." Mario chuckles, patting her head. She smiles a bit, glad to see him okay after he and Luigi had been rescued from Mr. L. "We all have-a strong or stupid minds! You don't have to worry."

Lily can't help but laugh softly at that.

"You know, your singing voice kinda reminded me of Anonymous L!" Boopkins cheerfully pointed out, and Lily hoped no one noticed her stiffen.

"Boopkins, bro, you're imagining things." Bob suddenly cut it. "Lily is a kid. Anonymous L has got to be an adult."

"Yeah, you're right." Boopkins nodded. "Sorry, it's just been so long since she released her last song.."

Lily smiles. "No, it's okay, Boopkins. It's a nice compliment. Thank you."

As the group continues to chatter away, Lily can't help but glance at Bob for just a moment. Even though she highly doubted it, was it possible that.. he knew?

No. Don't be silly. She shook her head a bit before focusing on whatever Lil Coding was saying. After all, I was Anonymous L. The one who kinda sung. No one knew who I really was.

Though still, after the events of today? She had some suspicions.

#oc: lady rose #oc: lily #oc: anton #code: lil coding #smg4 #smg3 #smg4 bob #bob bobowski #smg4 boopkins #fishy boopkins #smg4 mario #fanfiction: my writing! #!posts! #wrote all of this very sleep deprived. so. so things may not make sense #very sorry if they dont!!

[wanderingmarine]

Seacore Writing Prompts, Round III.

In a world where the vast seas stretch beyond the horizon, a new chapter of adventure begins... Welcome, brave souls, to a realm where pirates rule the waves, Tritons guard their watery domains, and merfolk weave enchanting tales beneath the ocean depths !

Gather 'round the hearth as we embark on a journey of high seas and mystical waters, where daring pirates seek the fabled treasures of legendary captains and Triton warriors defend their submerged kingdoms from the abyssal threats. Here, in the depths of this boundless ocean, merfolk sing their haunting melodies, revealing secrets hidden within the shimmering waves.

As the curtain rises, a myriad of quests awaits your party, each leading to uncharted territories and mysterious realms beneath the surface. Whether you wield the cutlass and stand at the helm of a pirate ship, embrace the honor and grace of the Triton warriors, or dive into the mesmerizing world of the merfolk, your fate is entwined with the mysteries of the deep.

Courageous pirates, relentless Tritons, and alluring merfolk, the choice is yours... The winds of fate beckon, and the tides of adventure await your call. So, gather your crew, harness your strength, and prepare to set sail for the most exhilarating quests that the seas have ever known. Welcome to a realm where legends are born, and the waters themselves hold the keys to boundless wonders. The adventure begins now...

I./ The Lost Treasure of Captain Blackbeard: Rumors of an ancient treasure map, said to lead to the legendary riches of the infamous pirate Captain Blackbeard, have surfaced. Your party of adventurers sets sail on a perilous quest, navigating treacherous waters and battling rival pirate crews to claim the hidden bounty. But beware, for the seas hold deadly secrets, and not all who seek the treasure have honorable intentions, not even amongst your party...

II./ The Curse of Davy Jones: A haunting melody drifts across the waves, drawing your party to a cursed island, where the ghostly captain Davy Jones and his spectral crew are doomed to roam for eternity. To lift the curse and set these lost souls free, you must find the elusive Heart of the Ocean—a gem with the power to break the curse and send Davy Jones to rest.

III./ The Call of the Siren's Song: The tranquil underwater city of the Tritons is under siege by a mysterious force that threatens to drown their kingdom in darkness. As a group of Triton warriors, your party must embark on a journey to uncover the source of this malevolence. Along the way, you'll encounter enigmatic sea creatures, face powerful sea witches, and explore the forgotten depths of the ocean in search of a way to save your homeland.

IV./ The Triton Heirloom: The legendary Trident of Poseidon, a symbol of power and rulership among the Triton royalty, has been stolen by a malevolent sea serpent. The future of the Triton civilization hangs in the balance as your party is tasked with retrieving the precious artifact from the serpent's lair, hidden deep within a treacherous abyss.

V./ The Moonlit Melody: The enchanting songs of the Moonlight Sirens have lured sailors to their demise for centuries. When the Moonlight Siren Queen unexpectedly saves your party from a treacherous storm, she reveals her kind's tragic plight. A sinister sea witch has stolen their voices and imprisoned them, threatening to plunge the world into eternal darkness. You must seek out the powerful Sea Serpent Oracle and retrieve the Voice of the Ocean to break the curse and restore the Moonlight Sirens' songs.

VI./ The Rise of the Kraken Cult: An ancient cult devoted to the worship of the mighty Kraken threatens to unleash its wrath upon the world, intent on unleashing the colossal sea creature to wreak havoc upon coastal civilizations. Your party must gather ancient artifacts scattered across the ocean depths to summon the benevolent Sea Guardians, ancient protectors of the seas, in a final battle against the Kraken Cult's dark ambitions.

You can find Round I here, and Round II here friend !

#dnd homebrew #dnd campaign #dnd oc #writing #dungeons and dragons #dnd stuff #fantasy #dnd prompt #dnd #creative writing #dnd starters #writing prompts #story ideas #prompts #writing inspiration #writing ideas #writblr

[priestessofcreation]

Quick read of the Orphic Mysteries and I’m not too impressed

1. Origin story of the world is different from mainstream Greek Mythology - no issue here, just interesting stuff

2. Near-monotheistic worship of Dionysus, also known as Zagreus. Child of Zeus and Persephone, and the chosen heir of Zeus’s throne - LEAVE PERSEPHONE ALONE, SHE HAS BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH. However, there is something here because not only was Dionysus really, widely, WEIRDLY liked in Greece, but Hades was considered the house of Dionysus. Sometimes he was even synonymous with Hades himself.

3. Dionysus was ripped apart by his own kind - While definitely something that would happen (consider the lot we are dealing with), Dionysus was a major god in the mainstream mythology. One of the twelve. I got to be honest, though… I’m not a huge fan of Dionysus. “God of wine and revelry” isn’t something that has ever really interested me personally.

4. Belief in reincarnation, as a prison - This is a thing in Buddhism too. It’s also a thing that spiritual predators use to squeeze money out of you. I am of the belief that reincarnation is a natural and conscious thing, spiritually speaking. If we are all the universe, all one, then reincarnation is a way for the universe to experience itself. It is a way for us to eternally grow and experience and explore.

5. Belief in the soul, formed of pieces of Dionysus in bodies made of the pieces of Titans. Humans are made of purity (Dionysus) but also corruption (titans). Meaning, original sin - Bro, I hate the concept of original sin. I HATE the idea that we are inherently awful and that we have to redeem ourselves before we’ve even taken our first breath. Why is this such a common thing? Where did this concept come from? I believe we are the universe, we are all one. So we are all love. We are ALL divine, leading me to believe that beliefs like this came from the idea that we are less than, but we all (gods and men) eventually come from the same place.

6. They went door-to-door with their sacred texts, asking people if they wanted their souls to be saved - 😒

7. Though Orpheus may have existed long before the establishment of this cult, they say that their teachings are based off of the truths he learned while making his way through the underworld - This sounds like a Dionysian cult. I’m not really impressed? And I gotta be honest - Orpheus was powerful poet and musician, born from the gods, who used art to do everything from silence sirens to save his wife. And yet somehow some sect of the Pagan Greek Religion managed to tie his name to a whole thing revering Dionysus as the source of human divinity. I just… either there is legitimacy to this and I just gotta eat my words, or this cult took Orpheus’s name to give legitimacy to their claims.

This whole thing is because I thought I was being called to study the Orphic mysteries, but I’m not impressed. I could believe, maybe, that Dionysus was the son of Persephone and Zeus. Weirder things in this mythology have happened.

But… if I were going to create a whole cult around the teachings of Orpheus… it would look like Hadestown. Love, idealism, art, healing, redemption, blind belief that something is going to happen despite all odds and how losing that belief will have the same direct effect that having that belief had (manifestation, anyone?). Just how much the human spirit can make things happen and how that directly links us to the power of gods. Creation. Hope. Believe, and you can make it happen.

Magic, I guess.

#mythology #Orphic mysteries #folklore #history #religion #Orpheus #Dionysus

[thesirencult]

PAC: HOW YOU'LL GET 💵 WEALTHY

PILE 1 🤎

The Hermit

My Pile 1 💕 welcome to your reading.

The path to wealth for you starts first and foremost through a much needed spiritual seclusion.

You will realize that money = energy through this path of learning how to listen to your inner voice.

You need to tune out other people, only for now. Others do not understand your ideas and can not help you.

After you come out of this period of self searching you will make a great mentor out of yourself and a guiding light. That means that the transformation you went through blessed you with wisdom to guide others, either to make money, lose weight, awaken, search for spiritual truth etc.

A simple 9 to 5 won't get you there.

Possible career paths, skills and talents you can leverage and ideas : any work that helps people transform, self development/coaching industry, therapist, spiritual worker, book writing, ability to listen to others, empathy

PILE 2 🤎

5 Of Wands

Dear Pile 2 ❤️,

Contrary to Pile 1 your path to wealth includes "climbing the ladder".

You are well equipped to start from the bottom of an organization and reach partner/C-Suite status.

You will probably get a prestigious degree as I can tell you are an overachiever. This reminds me of Suits. You will fight through and compete.

You have great arguing abilities (law?) and have the stamina to get to the top.

Now, apart from the above, the 5 Of Wands can show physicality. This is a sign for me that some of you need to watch your health and not run yourself down from all the work you do.

PILE 3 🤎

Knight Of Cups

You are passionate and romantic. Your soul is artistic and you want to create beauty in this world.

This is a singer and songwriter, a chef that creates beautiful dishes that drive people crazy. An amateur photographer who takes photos of hotels in beautiful destinations like a professional. Someone who wants to build a clothing brand.

You are multitalented and an eternal child. Stick to your arts and crafts and harness your beautiful energy and creator abilities and you'll be unstoppable.

P.S. Take the opportunities that come your way, it's never too early to meet with success, contrary to what others tell you. You'll never be fully prepared or ready. You may be a Projector.

PILE 4 🤎

9 Of Wands

Sweet Pile 4 🧁,

You have so many great ideas and the perfect foundation to make 💰. Your mindset is already more than halfway there and you have great abilities.

You need to work on romanticising struggle. It doesn't have to be as hard as you make it. Don't take the stairs if there is an escalator. You don't have to prove anything to anyone.

If right now things are slow, remember how far you've come. Even if it is not visible in the physical, the past few years you've accumulated a wealth of knowledge and are ready to take the next step.

Trust in yourself and the Universe. Preserve, defend your position and work both hard and smart.

A few months ago I stumbled across a video with a woman who was a business coach. She asked successful people "How did you make it?" and their answer was "I never stopped."

Never. Ever. Stop.

Source : The Siren Cult

#astrology #tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #level up journey #soulmate #thesirencult #source:thesirencult

[bespectacled-bookwyrm]

Silly idea of some Pokémon faves getting yoinked into the Darkest Dungeon universe.

Being a fan of the ocean, Grimsley ends up befriending the Siren. She can’t talk anymore, but she's good company. She also tries to stick starfish on him; from what Grimsley can tell, that's her way of saying she sees him as a friend. (Eventually, she tries to stick them on the others too.) The Siren also made him a very nice seashell necklace.

Somehow, Colress ends up adopted by the Shrieker. The big bird may be corrupted by the fungus that infects the Weald, but Colress is its baby now. The brigands who tried to rob him learned that the hard way. Colress, meanwhile, is ecstatic at the research opportunities. He's also quite attached to his feathery guardian, and is very unimpressed when he can’t take it into the tavern. The Shrieker also likes to tuck some of its feathers into his hair.

Through the power of being an adorable but stubborn teenage girl, Rosa convinces some of the non-eldritch cultists to join the side of the Heir. They find her sunshine attitude a nice change from whatever the hell was going on in the cult, and they've basically become her aunts and uncles with crazy powers. She also got them into acting, so there's now a small theatre production in the Hamlet.

Burgh discovers that Bad Bugs do exist and promptly burned down the Courtyard. (In his zealous madness, the Fanatic declared him his arch-nemesis.)

The Darkest Dungeon adventurers, meanwhile, are utterly baffled by the Pokémon. But they’re friendly, and they get on with William's wolfhound.

They consider the unusual lot a welcome change from the horrors of the estate.

Dismas considers Grimsley a gambling buddy, and is very surprised that he can drink Barristan under the table.

Paracelsus and Colress like to research together, and hope to cure the Shrieker and Siren of their afflictions.

Burgh brightens up the Hamlet through simply existing, and makes it his mission to bring as much joy to the people living there as possible. He and Sarmenti consider themselves the Hamlet's primary source of entertainment.

Rosa finds herself with a LOT of aunts and uncles. Sure, some of them are nuttier than a Pachirisu, but they’re all one big family now. She even taught uncle Bigby how to make jewellery! (The Beast within him has never looked more glamorous.)

#Dumb ideas #Crossover #Darkest Dungeon #Pokemon Black 2 and White 2 #Grimsley #Colress #Pokemon Rosa #Pokemon Burgh #Gym Leader Burgh #This is what happens when you play Darkest Dungeon with Pokémon ideas on the brain XD

[lulu2992]

Exploration of the now-offline Far Cry 5 official websites

Part 4: Game Info (Europe)

Recovered content

The European website was first archived on October 9th, 2017, almost five months after the announcement and before the release of Far Cry 5. On the home page, after an image of the “key art” (see under the cut) and an invitation to watch this video...

...there was the ABOUT THE GAME section:

FREEDOM Set in beautiful Montana, an incredible Open World. Hope County welcomes you to the Land of the Free. FAMILY Led by The Father and commanded by The Heralds, Eden’s Gate preys on those hopeless folks who have fallen into economical and psychological despair. FIREARMS From shotguns to slingshots, this toy chest is stocked, locked and loaded with every piece of steel you’ll need to take down the Cult. Lead a resistance against a fanatical cult in small town, U.S.A., where Freedom, Firearms, and the Project at Eden’s Gate rule above all else. Lead a resistance against a fanatical cult in small town, U.S.A., where Freedom, Firearms, and the Project at Eden’s Gate rule above all else.

Clicking “More Info” took you to the GAME INFO page, which wasn’t archived before March 10th, 2018, and looked like this at least until February 7th, 2020 (last available archive):

FREEDOM, FAMILY & FIREARMS Welcome to Hope County, Montana, home to a fanatical doomsday cult known as The Project at Eden’s Gate that is threatening the community's freedom. Stand up to the cult’s leader, Joseph Seed and the Heralds, and spark the fires of resistance that will liberate the besieged community. In this expansive world, your limits and creativity will be tested against the biggest and most ruthless baddest enemy Far Cry has ever seen. It’ll be wild and it’ll get weird, but as long as you keep your wits about you, the residents of Hope County can rest assured you’re their beacon of hope. Join the Resistance on March 27th, 2018, with Far Cry 5. Available on PlayStation 4 system, Xbox One, and PC.

The FREEDOM section was mostly about the open world and game mechanics, but the others were about the Project and the Resistance.

Here is FAMILY:

PROJECT AT EDEN’S GATE The Project at Eden’s Gate, led by The Father, believes The Collapse is imminent. They’re on a mission to save your soul – whether you want it or not. JOSEPH SEED – THE FATHER “I am your Father. And you are my Children.” FAITH SEED – THE SIREN Once you fall under Faith’s spell, you’re a goner. As Joseph’s voice, Faith acts as a divine instrument of chaos to keep the congregation in a state of bliss. JOHN SEED – THE INQUISITOR John will use intimidation, faith and violence to secure resources vital to the Cult’s survival - be it a home or a person. JACOB SEED – THE SOLDIER As the Cult’s recruiter and former Army marksman, big brother Seed’s main duty is protecting the Project at Eden’s Gate.

The four red buttons redirected to the Character Spotlight videos about Joseph, Faith, John, and Jacob posted on the Ubisoft UK YouTube Channel.

Here is FIREARMS:

THE RESISTANCE Throughout the hills, valleys, and townships of Hope County, civilians of all walks have joined forces to resist against the cult, and rid their land of its chaos once and for all. But it wouldn’t be as fun if new toys hadn’t been brought along the way. Boom boom boom boom! ♫

Clicking “More Info” opened a pop-up window with a video and a description for each character; I will detail all of that in future posts.

Commentary

Sadly, the European website was archived way less often than the American one. It seems it was also rarely updated, as it apparently said we could still “pre-order” the game... in 2020. But since it used to exist and wasn’t identical to the American version, I decided to include it in these posts too!

Under the cut are all the available source files, saved directly from the website, of the images you see in the screenshots:

But first, here is the site’s version of the “key art”:

And now the images that actually are in the screenshots:

(The icons became red when you hovered your cursor over them)

The three icons below are not the source files. I couldn’t find them so I simply took and cropped screenshots:

I will upload the pictures of the Resistance (from the FIREARMS section) in the posts dedicated to each character.

#far cry 5 #eden’s gate #joseph seed #faith seed #john seed #jacob seed #grace armstrong #jerome jeffries #nick rye #mary may fairgrave #hurk drubman jr #jess black #sharky boshaw #adelaide drubman #boomer #cheeseburger #peaches #hope county #heard in the video: #philippe fournier #marri knaddle

[alessandrofogo]

Hang a crocodile outside for the unbelievers solo show at Cassina Projects, Milan, IT 21/02 - 15/04/2023

ENG:

The title evokes a Catholic custom dating back to the 15th century, that of hanging a stuffed crocodile inside spaces devoted to the Marian cult. Held high up, chained and hanging upside down from the ceiling, crocodiles were said to be rendered harmless in this way, depleted of the evil they were symbolically associated with in medieval bestiaries as much as in biblical iconography.

Sourcing the myths around the Marian cult and the multifarious forms of female idols through history, Fogo has woven together his own narratives where ancient archetypes and contemporary references dovetail as he flirts with mystical symbology and suspended narratives. Emblematic of the artist’s lexicon, the large-scale canvas which features a siren and a stuffed crocodile. Their coexistence despite the unrelated, rather at odds, natures, emphasizes the symbolic charge while offsetting preconceived notions and discouraging any moral judgement.

For the occasion, an architectural intervention has been conceived of to fraction the gallery space carving a more intimate, chapel-like area reminiscent of a crypt. Against a deep sage green, the elusive figures and motifs camouflaging within the artist’s enigmatic canvasses inhabit this dimly-lit chamber where temporal dimensions overlap.

Mining the ambiguous yet familiar territory of the plausible, Fogo conjures up somewhat hermetic compositions porous to invisible and dream-like worlds. Visionary and allegorical, his paintings unravel a non-linear notion of time and space and evoke an enduring, almost voyeuristic nostalgia which is further dramatized by the skilful detailing of the scenes.

Fogo’s works retain a metaphysical, at times almost tactile quality. Crepuscular tones and the intense use of shadows and unnatural light foreground the subliminal over the rational. Arching from cerulean, livid blues to metallic greens and deep reds, his palette of contrasting tints softly fades into pastel-like, muffled nuances. Historical references, everyday objects and collective symbols dot the compositions, their non- hierarchical display touching on the disorienting coexistence of universal scope and individual dimension in the iffy present. ITA: Il titolo della mostra evoca una particolare usanza cattolica risalente al XV secolo, quella di appendere un coccodrillo impagliato all'interno di spazi dedicati al culto Mariano. Sospesi per aria, incatenati al soffitto ed appesi a testa in giù, questi coccodrilli venivano in tal modo resi innocui, privati del male a cui erano simbolicamente associati nei bestiari medievali così come nell'iconografia biblica. Muovendo dai miti legati al culto Mariano e dalle molteplici rappresentazioni degli idoli femminili nel corso della storia, Fogo intesse una sua sceneggiatura intrisa di simbologia mistica e narrazioni sospese in cui archetipi antichi e riferimenti contemporanei si intrecciano. Emblematico di questo linguaggio, è il dipinto di grandi dimensioni che raffigura una sirena ed un coccodrillo impagliato. La loro coesistenza sul piano pittorico, nonostante le rispettive nature risultino distanti ed evidentemente opposte, ne enfatizza la carica simbolica vanificando preconcetti e scoraggiando qualsiasi giudizio morale. Per l'occasione, è stato concepito un intervento architettonico inedito che frammenta lo spazio della galleria ricreando un'atmosfera più intima in un’area che ricorda le sembianze sacrali di una cappella o di una cripta. Immerse in uno sfondo di profondo verde salvia, le figure enigmatiche ed i motivi sfuggenti che si mimetizzano sulle tele sembrano abitare questa camera in penombra in una dimensione temporale indefinita, dove le chiavi di lettura ed i riferimenti si sovrappongono. Esplorando il territorio ambiguo ma familiare del verosimile, Fogo dà vita a composizioni ermetiche che si aprono a mondi invisibili ed onirici. Visionari ed allegorici, i suoi dipinti rivelano una concezione non lineare di spazio-tempo ed evocano una nostalgia persistente, quasi voyeuristica, drammatizzata ulteriormente dai preziosi dettagli delle scene. Le opere di Fogo conservano una qualità metafisica che alle volte si restituisce in maniera quasi tattile. I toni crepuscolari e l'uso intenso ed innaturale di luci ed ombre pongono in primo piano il subliminale rispetto al razionale. Passando da blu lividi e cerulei fino a verdi metallici e rossi profondi, la sua palette di tinte contrastanti sfuma dolcemente in morbide tonalità pastello. Riferimenti storici, oggetti di uso quotidiano e simboli collettivi costellano le sue composizioni disegnando un universo privo di gerarchie culturali che ci rimanda alla disorientante coesistenza tra una dimensione di portata universale ed una più intima ed individuale nell’incerto presente.

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[deathlessathanasia]

“Juno is not normally thought of as a "musical" goddess. She was however a major recipient of musical honours. Choric song and dance were prominent in her propitiatory cult in the Greek world (Argos, Samos) and in Italy (Falerii). At Rome, extraordinary musical honores featured in the cult of Juno Regina: in 207 B.C.E., and on at least seven further occasions of national crisis up to 92 B.C.E., she was honoured by a choric, processional hymn performed through the streets of Rome to appease her anger and secure her goodwill. During the period in question, aside from the addressees of the ancient priestly carmina and of the early carmina saecularia, Juno alone among the members of the Roman pantheon was so honoured. None of the texts survives, and the impact on the public consciousness of these solemn, elaborately staged, manifestations of sacral carmen at moments of extreme crisis has been pretty much left to our imagination. They will surely have left their mark.

There were other reasons for honouring Hera/Juno in song and dance. As a goddess of marriage, and of the harmonious union between man and wife, she was associated with choreia in which she herself might be imagined as participating. Her own union with Zeus was the subject of cult song, and as early as Homer, the restoration of harmony within their turbulent marriage could find symbolic expression in music. The association is visible in Nicaenetus' idyllic depiction of himself lying by the temple of Hera on Samos and taking the "lyre of the Muses" to sing of "the famous bride of Zeus" ("famous," because much-hymned). Sappho (as "Calliope") and her choros are said (AP 9.189) to hymn Hera at her temple. An oracular response at Didyma directs an enquirer to appease Hera at a shrine "where unmarried girls set up their choros rhythmically to the tuneful melody of a flute." Of especial interest for Hera's musical symbolism is an (unhistorical) oracle from the same source that presents her allegorical identification with "air" in musical terms (in contrast to the turbulent, stormy conditions more readily associated with her in that element): she is called "melodious Hera," suggesting a mix of physical element and music in the "harmony" that was ideally common to both. She was linked in cult with the Sirens. This may reflect her role as a kourotrophic goddess, mourning the death of youths. At all events, this link is said (Paus. 9.34.3) to have generated an aetiology to the effect that Hera created strife between the Sirens and the Muses (and thus acted in a way antithetical to the harmony inherent in mousike). Again we are led towards the role of musical symbolism within Hera/Juno's ambivalent personality, as it appears in cult, myth, and poetry.

Hera's destructive aspect from time to time finds "musical" expression. A prominent example occurs in Euripides' Heracles, where the crushed hero bitterly pictures Hera dancing in triumph on Olympus. Sarcastically designated "famous wife of Zeus" (that is, Hera made "famous" by song), she performs an activity, Olympian dancing, associated with the Muses.12 This "Muse-like" activity by Hera lies in antithesis to the role of the Muses and Muse-cult earlier in the play. Inspired by love of the Muses, the chorus have sung a triumphalist paean for the living Heracles on his return from Hades, in effect the founding "hymn" to the hero-god and the antecedent of "future" laudes Herculis. But in the play, it has its ghastly sequel in Hera's revenge: the Muse-inspired celebration of Heracles turns sour, and it is Hera's turn to dance.”

 -- Alex Hardie - Juno, Hercules, and the Muses at Rome

#hera #iuno #juno #excerpts #quotes