#and than cassius’ in the first act

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Romans, countrymen and lovers! hear me for my cause; and be silent, that you may hear: believe me for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe; censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar’s, to him I say, that Brutus’ love to Caesar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer: Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living, and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live all free men? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him; but as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that he would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that he will not love his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.

#this is less famous than anthony’s speech #and than cassius’ in the first act #but it’s one of my favourite speeches in shakespeare #happy ides of march

[daintyys]

needy

MDNI - fem!reader x coriolanus snow, 1k words, angst, swearing, non-descript masturbation, needy coryo, intentional lowercase, lmfao i hope its not obvious but i need to reread the book

an: this is literally AWFUL but i needed to post and i didn't want my first post in a while to be smut. i'm taking asks for coryo and sejanus! if u want me to write anything just ask me!

he's into you. he hates to admit it, but its true. when you're assigned as partners for a project, coryo doesn't know how to act.

coriolanus snow had a problem: he was too observant. whenever you were around, he couldn't stop himself from watching your every move. he disgusted himself, honestly. how perverted he was, being obsessed with a girl he hardly knew. how even more perverted he felt as he rushed home from the academy, straight to his bedroom, needing to fuck himself to the thought of your face. you were too pretty not to think about, he had to rationalize with himself whilst cumming on his sheets.

the professors at the academy were being tough on their students, as the end of term was drawing near. coriolanus constantly found himself buried in projects, textbook readings, and presentations. he wasn't worried though, his grades were perfect, he had exemplary attendance, and had never turned in a late assignment. all he had to do was get past his exams, and then it was all over.

history class was no exception. professor demigloss assigned an 8-page essay analyzing cassius heath, the winner of the first hunger games, and it was to be done with a partner.

demigloss was notorious for not letting students pick whom they wanted to work with, so it was no surprise as he began to read out the pairings for the essay.

coriolanus was bored. he knew all about the first games, and certainly didn't give a damn about cassius heath. he was 8 when the games happened, his father had just been killed, and he understood they were made to punish the districts.

what finally got his attention was hearing your name, along with, ironically, his. he looked up quickly, turning his head toward where you were seated. you stared back at him, flashing him a smile. fuck, coryo thought. just his luck.

the essay was to be done outside of class, so coriolanus gathered all his courage to stop you in the hall after history.

when the bell rang, he ran straight for the door, and stood outside it to wait for you. he clutched the strap of his satchel, palms sweating and knuckles turning white.

you exited the classroom, and coryo's breath hitched. he'd never been this close to you before, even if it was just 10 feet. he cleared his throat and you looked up. "y/n." he greeted, sounding colder than he had intentioned.

you approached him and smiled, reaching out to shake his hand. coryo quickly wiped his palm on his jacket and took your hand in his, shaking it. "i'm afraid we've never actually spoken before." you noted, taking your hand back. "you seem to be right." you answered his agreement with a nod. this was awkward.

"so, y/n, when should we plan to do this essay?" coriolanus queried, running a hand through his unruly hair. you cocked your head. "tonight? my place?" you proposed, opening your satchel to retrieve paper and pen to write your address.

coryo nodded, feeling his neck begin to sweat. "great," you affirmed, handing him the paper. "just come over after class lets out." with that, you walked away, leaving coryo dumbfounded.

he had been quiet, cold, and he was disgustingly clammy. stupid, nervous, guilty, girl-crazy coriolanus.

when school let out, it felt to coriolanus like it had been days since he'd seen you. he took out the paper with your address, admiring your handwriting. your hand had been small and soft... he wished he could touch you again.

covering the growing bulge in his pants with his satchel, coryo made his way to your apartment.

coriolanus deeply regretted all those times he'd jerked off to the thought of you. he never thought he would actually have to talk to you, and yet here he was. how could he look you in the eye? he hardly knew you, and you hardly knew him.

you lived in a nice building, and your apartment was close to the top floor, with a fantastic view of the city (which wasn't really much to look at). coriolanus knocked at your door, pushing his hair out of his face.

you opened the door after a moment, out of the academy uniform and wearing an adorable floral sundress. "coriolanus!" you smiled, opening the door further for him to enter. he walked into your apartment, admiring the interior.

"you have a very lovely home, y/n." he complimented, placing his satchel on a bench next to the door. you blushed at his remark. "it is lovely, isn't it, but it's quite far from the academy. speaking of which, you didn't walk all the way here, did you?"

coriolanus paused. neither him nor tigris had a car, so there was no way for him to be driven somewhere, and he hated asking for favors. "i like walking," he lied. "i get to see the city." you smiled, guiding him to the study. "there really isn't much to see." you joked.

the two of you sat close to each other at the desk, legs brushing against together every few minutes. you both read your textbooks, compared your finds, and drafted the essay.

you found yourself admiring coriolanus. everything you'd heard about him seemed to be true. he was a genius, sickeningly handsome, and one hell of a writer. every time you made eye contact with him, you could feel your heart pounding in your throat.

there was definitely tension between the two of you, your bodies grazing each other, feeling the other jump every time you touched. coriolanus struggled to focus on the task at hand, resisting the urge to kiss you. you noticed this change in him.

"coriolanus, do you like me or something?" you joked, eyes skimming your textbook. coriolanus paused. "i tolerate you." he deflected, face burning. "well you hardly know me!" you giggled, eyes bearing into his.

"that's why it's easy to tolerate you, y/n." he smirked, blue eyes glistening. you rested your head on your hand, studying his features. coryo pretended not to notice, his heart beating rapidly as he acted like he was reading.

you smiled at him, and bit slightly down on your lip. you hardly knew this guy, so why were you trying so hard to get his attention?

coriolanus met your gaze, looking from your eyes to your lips. "i want to kiss you, y/n." he ventured, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "oh do you?" you giggled. "yes, i do." coryo sat up straight, turning his body towards yours. you looked up at him longingly, mouth slightly ajar.

he gently cupped your face, rubbing your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "i need to kiss you." coryo clarified, his cock straining against his pants. "then do it." you purred.

so he did.

#fanfiction #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus #snow lands on top #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #the hunger games #thg #daintyys

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Demon Knight: Odel

[I plan on making a part 2, I just needed to write something, to begin with!]

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Part 1  |   Part 2

Ad Laetitiam et Pacem

“It is set in ink. I will not hear anymore else of it,” your father, the King declared. “You will marry Lord Meriweather’s son by the arrival of spring.”

Perhaps in the hopes of pleasing your father, you would have heeded to words, to remain dutiful as princess of the realm and make your family proud.

That same night when you heard of your fate, you prepared to dress comfortably in a washerwoman’s ensemble, before slipping out the high window.

To hell with the arrangement, I would rather live a life of celibacy. This fate will not ruin my life.

The third daughter out of six and the eighth out of eleven living children, you had many brothers and sisters older that would be set for better matches from well-known lords and ladies. Yet, you were not put to become queen or to be married off to a wealthy lord, you were assigned to marry a minor lordling, his youngest son feeble and health ailing.

Of all the four sons of Lord Meriweather’s brood, you had to be matched with one with no proper destiny. Hugh was sickly and frail, not a knight or the heir to his father’s land, he was predestined to nothingness, and upon your first meeting with him, you snidely advised he was better suited to abstinence than to displeasing his future wife.

To your dissatisfaction, it had to be you that would be disappointed.

The moonlight acted as your only guide as you run blindly through the streets of the capital. Dead of life with only a few patrolling, you were able to squeeze into dark shadows, ducking and weaving before you found yourself on the outskirts of the capital. Its high, towering walls were manned, but you covered your face with your hood, ducking your head as you run out, away from the life you knew.

The adrenaline pumped swiftly in your chest, and a sense of freedom was overwhelming as the smile broadened on your face, racing your body as fast as you could through the woods.

Months of planning had come underway, and the only place you knew would be deserted; was Whitehaven Hold.

Your other option could’ve been to stay with your older sister, Alinor. Eight years your senior, she was married at eight-and-ten to a well-known and comely lord, giving him babes a year into their marriage.

Father will know I will go to her. You knew it would be a rooky mistake. He knew how much you loved your sister, how you missed her dearly after she was sent away to live the rest of her days in someone else’s castle.

Your older brother, Cassius was four-and-twenty, acting as a scholar in the south, but they did not accept women to the life of academics. No, it would’ve been harder to dress as a man to be accepted into his school.

It was a day or two away, and you spent your nights by a fire, rummaging for food and keeping what stale biscuits you hid in your dress pockets. You lay, wide awake, with no knowledge of where exactly you could go next.

The morning came easily when you arrived at the sight, a smouldering heat and smoke billowing from the mess in front of you.

Whitehaven Hold was a twisted, horrid sight. The battlements for a two-hundred-year war, its walls were burnt and destroyed, the stone had crumpled as it burnt and melted like candles, thousands burning inside. It acts as a haunted sight for travellers, with no Lord or Lady sane enough to reside there.

You entered through the battered doors, cold and damp easily enveloped you as you shuddered, looking around. It had been quickly looted of items by travellers, with not a sight of heirlooms or gold in sight. What remained was tattered and worn furniture, rooms dark and clammy and all the very same.

I’m not staying here before I lose my mind. You thought in disgust, but the thought of residing brought you to chuckle. The Lady of Whitehaven Hold- imagine the look on father’s face. It would not be good to stay a day or two before the cold enters your system and bring the chill quickly. It ached in your chest, not knowing where you could go next. South, always south. Away from it all.

The rooms were simple and easy to roam, a large, broken dining hall, fit for a Lord, wife and many heirs, its kitchen located on the far side. The table was battered and disarrayed, little to nothing scattered that remained of contents of food and dirt. You continued, walking past the cold entrance, up towards what remained of the grand staircase.

Spotting at the very top, are three displays of suits of armour, posing in similar positions. Their hands were positioned to have a greatsword in their hands, but only one remained in the grasp, the one in the middle.

You observed its armour, shinier and similar to molten black obsidian, it gleamed as if recently polished. You flicked your finger across the armour, its armour hummed low as you dragged across its armour to inspect for dirt.

“Hmph, just as I thought. A collectable.” You scoffed, wiping the grime from your finger as you stared up into its helm. The helmet was a beautiful display, gleaming in brilliance, except when you looked into the eyeless sockets of its eyes, something was not supposed to be there.

Eyes staring back. Alit with burning, enraged flames.

“There is little of me that I would class as a collectable,” a low, rumbling voice boomed, startling you rigid. You stepped back, towards the staircase, watching in horror. The talon-like fingers twitched momentarily, before another jolted with life, the whole hand was soon moving with existence.

The suit of armour slowly and lazily tested its movements, its long leg swung forward, groaning and choking as the armour moved. His fiery stare was towards you, raging with anger. “You are not meant to be here. You are trespassing.”

“No one lives here.”

“The Lord of Whitehaven Hold resides here, and I must protect my Lord from all.”

To your surprise, his fingers jerked to grip the hilt of his deadly sword tighter, a flash of silver startled you as he unsheathed the mighty weapon, before you were staggering, sprinting back down the stairs, hearing the squeaks of worn armour following hotly behind.

Leaving through the front door was an easier move, but with adrenaline pumping quickly in your chest. You stumbled and fell, your body kicking to keep moving, to hide, to do anything to get away from the deadly sword.

Something swung just behind you, a scream bubbling over you as his sword got caught into the wall, clinging with a hiss as it hit the wall and avoid taking a chunk out of you. You continued to run, in hopes you could find anywhere to hide, but no matter, the knight was hot on your tail.

You swept around the table, the knight rounding the other side, eyes flaming with the sword ready to swing before something caught his eye, something behind you. His sword lowered as he took in the damaged painting behind you, and you too turned to see what it was he was looking over.

The painting was of no doubt, the old Lord of Whitehaven Hold, yet he had been the first and last during the two-hundred-year war, murdered by conspirators who took over his castle after their coup.

There was a sadness that filled the knight’s eyes, lowering his sword, his entire demeanour changed to become defeated. “He’s gone?” His voice was gravelly and soft.

“He was murdered two-hundred years ago,” you spoke carefully, still gazing periodically towards the silver of his large sword. “There has not been another lord of this Hold since.”

The knight did not answer for a moment, looking at the painting with a solemn gaze that was so vivid without seeing the rest of his face. “Oh,” was the only word he spoke, before he sheathed his sword, marching back and away from the hall, back up towards the stairs.

“Hey, where are you going?” You stared in disbelief, uneasily tailing behind him a few feet. You watched how he climbed the stairs stiffly, moving back towards his display.

“I am no longer needed,” he spoke quietly. “I am free from my pact.”

“Pact from what?”

“The pact grants anyone who rules this hold the protection and my sword.” He moved towards to set himself in his display once more, propping the sword out to rest between his hands once more. You were by the bottom of the stairs, cautiously standing there. “I am no longer needed.”

Your cheeks heated the same way a child would grow in a tantrum. “Well, what if I became the next resident?”

His eyes peered over you, wide and in incredulously. “You’re a mere washerwoman.”

You remembered your clothing, the ones you snuck out in, and you knew you had no way of making him believe you. “Would you believe me if I said I was a Princess—and runaway one?”

He scoffed light-heartedly. “You’re rather funny, aren’t you?”

“I am!” You insisted. “My father is the current King, Cassius XV. My oldest brother is Crown Prince Isolde. My mother, Queen Adora, was forty when she passed, giving birth to my youngest sister, Margarita.” You told him your name, the one you despised using.

He did not answer once again, yet he seemed amused. “Anyone could know that of the current rulers.”

“I can read that,” you pointed towards the small display name, written in the old language of Ald, passed down to royalty and nobles to keep alive. “Would a washerwoman know about the culture and language of Ald? Would a washerwoman even know how to read?”

“Maybe so,” he assessed warily. “What is a princess like yourself doing out here?”

“My father wished to have me married off.”

He inquired amusedly. “You ran away from your betrothal? I don’t think I’ve heard of such a thing before.”

“You don’t know many princesses.” You muttered.

“Perhaps,” he mused. “It is known many Princesses of the past have been fond of comely knights and princes from far lands. It would be their dream to be married off.”

“Hugh Meriweather looks more weasel than man.”

The knight looked perplexed, but he did chuckle at your words. “Weasel, you say? I’m unsure there is some tale of a Princess and a weasel.”

Fairy tales are nightmares in reality. Just stories to keep girls happy. You thought. “It isn’t some fairy tale. I have no say in who I can love.” You huffed, crossing your arms. “That is why I’m here. Running away from the fate destined for me; misery, squeezing out babes and dying from childbed fever. You wouldn’t have to worry about being wedded off, you’re just a piece of talking armour.”

The silence that followed your passing words made you realise that you may have overstepped. You peered over at him, and though his face was shielded, you could tell your words had insulted him.

“You’re talking to a piece of talking armour.” He jeered and your cheeks had rouged once more in embarrassment. “What then, little Princess? You believe your father would not find you here?”

“He can sure try to.” You huffed. “I will not leave here.”

If he had eyebrows, you could be sure he had a face of exasperation. “You think you’ll have protection here?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re here.”

“I’m free from my pact, however.” He recalled.

“What about forming a pact with me? It can’t be that bad.” You said excitedly, too naively to think anything of it. You’ve had knights in service of protecting you your entire life: how different could this be?

“Princess,” his voice was laced with unease. “If you go ahead with this, you will need to sacrifice something of your life.”

Your silence was a tell-tell sign that you were uncertain. Sacrifice something, like what? You thought about the things you had to you: you had no titles to own, no claim to the throne, so you couldn’t give that up (you doubted you would’ve if you did own one). It seemed like an easy deal, yet nothing came to mind for you to give in return, until—

“I shall give you my hand in marriage.”

The knight recoiled almost as if he had been burnt in his ink-black armour, his demeanour changed to seem hesitant, almost incredulous to your offer. “What about Hugh the weasel? You don’t think I’m a married man already?” He asked.

“You wouldn’t be here if you were already married now, would you? You would be with your lady wife.”

He seemed pleased by your words, stepping forth towards you, around the table, before he was standing in front of you. His full height towered easily over you, and you imagined what he looked like without the helmet on him.

“I, swear by my name and honour, to protect and keep you in my stay, for as long as you may live. I am yours, Princess," he says. "I will shield your back and give you my life in the moment of need.”

You easily presented your hand to him to take into his, there was warmth oddly in his armoured fingers, and his obsidian suit of armour hummed and almost felt as if it was burning up on the inside before the knight brought your hand to his lips to place a kiss to your knuckles.

“Arise, sir-“

“Odel. Sir Odel.”

#demon #demon oc #demon boyfriend #demon knight #princess reader #female reader #monster writing #itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes #demon monster #monster x reader #monster x human #monster lover

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

Avenues of female political influence in late republican Rome:

Senior women frequently acted as advisors to their brothers, husbands, children, and occasionally even parents. Servilia is known to have had a strong influence over her brother Cato even in his adulthood, Fulvia was a key agent and confidante for each of her husbands, and even Tullia sometimes sent letters telling her father Cicero what she thought he should do.

Women had their own social networks in parallel to men. They visited each other for social engagements, religious observances, scoping out marital prospects for themselves or their children, and passed along letters and information. Aristocratic women like Servilia could often visit politicians' households more easily than their male relatives could, and female clients would often prefer to approach their patron's wife than the patron himself. Women could also be patrons with client networks in their own right.

Women could act as negotiators, spies, and go-betweens. Mark Antony's mother negotiated with Sextus Pompey on Antony's behalf; Servilia pulled strings to get Brutus and Cassius' provinces reassigned. Men often relied on their female relatives to tactfully sound out alliances, gauge public opinion, or collect intelligence while the man could maintain plausible deniability.

Women could canvass or intercede on behalf of relatives. Although being too publicly active was considered embarrassing, it was quite proper for a mother, wife, sister or daughter to talk to the family's allies, clients, and other politicians to get benefits for her kin. They could help male relatives get elected, taken off proscription lists, or get his legislation more support.

Women were probably consulted on most marriage alliances, and thus on political alliances via marriage. Mothers, grandmothers and aunts in particular were often involved, thanks to their extensive social networks and opportunity to assess potential spouses. Although brides usually didn't get much say in their first marriage, they usually had more choice in second and third marriages.

Women's social connections were especially important due to Rome's barebones civil infrastructure. Compared to modern states, republican Rome had very few magistrates or civil servants. There were also few "social services" in the modern sense. People relied on family connections and the patron-client system in order to meet their needs, respond to emergencies, and get things done. Having more friends in as many places as possible was necessary for political survival; you couldn't afford to sequester your women.

When men went overseas to govern provinces or serve in the legions, it was often their female relatives who managed estates in their absence, advocated for their interests in Rome, and kept them updated on political events. This was especially important in the late republic, when wives didn't normally follow their husbands to the provinces. A wife was expected to be a representative for her husband and point of contact for his allies. Mothers, sisters and aunts may do the same.

Property and power went hand in hand. Wealthier women had more social and political influence. Changes in marriage and inheritance law resulted in more women owning property in their own right during the late republic. Unless a will was written otherwise, by default sons and daughters inherited equal shares of an estate. Sine manu marriage enabled women to become legally independent at earlier ages, take back their dowries after divorce, and avoid being completely under their husbands' authority.

Although women couldn't vote or run for office, and were expected to use their influence in private homes instead of the public square, there's no doubt that aristocratic women like Servilia, Fulvia and Aurelia played major parts in building alliances, furthering their families' careers, defusing conflicts, and sometimes starting new ones. A particularly well-connected woman like Servilia could exert more weight in the Senate than most senators.

The system they lived in aligned their personal interests with those of their husbands, sons, and birth families, so most of our evidence shows women acting on behalf of men rather than pursuing personal agendas. These allegiances also ran along class lines: Servilia would have been far more interested in preserving her family's reputation, security and wealth than in the issues of poor or middle-class women.

In Roman politics, the personal was political. Parties and get-togethers were networking events. Weddings were for the families' joint prospects and goals as much as they were about the newlyweds. Friendships were expected to include reciprocal favors in business and politics. Your very house was both a symbol of yourself as a person, and your political hub, and your children would learn the system and make connections as much as home as in the forum.

This means that women, by necessity, were heavily involved in Roman politics. We have less documentation of their work than men's, since so much of it was unofficial and behind closed doors, but the republic depended on aristocratic women's skills, activities and relationships as much as on men's.

(Notes taken on Servilia and Her Family, by Susan Treggiari.)

#and of course the aristocratic women AND men depended on tons and tons of slaves! #behind every great man there is a great woman. and several thousand enslaved/underpaid workers. and probably some imperialism. #this is 50% notes to self so i can give female characters significant roles if i ever write a rome fic #servilia and her family #jlrrt reads #roman women #susan treggiari #jlrrt essays

[blueiskewl]

Very Rare Roman Gold Coin is Returned to Greece

A Very Rare Gold Coin, Minted by Brutus to Mark Caesar’s Death, Is Returned to Greece

The gold coin, which dates from 42 B.C. and is valued at $4.2 million, is thought to have been looted from a field near where an army loyal to Brutus camped during the struggle for control of Rome.

A rare and ancient gold coin that morbidly celebrates the stabbing death of Julius Caesar was returned this week to Greek officials by investigators in New York who had determined it was looted and fraudulently put up for sale at auction in 2020.

The coin, known as the “Eid Mar” and valued at $4.2 million, features the face of Marcus Junius Brutus, the onetime friend and ally of Caesar who, along with other Roman senators, murdered him on the Ides of March in 44 B.C. According to historians and experts, Brutus had the coins minted in gold and silver to applaud Caesar’s downfall and to pay his soldiers during the civil war that followed the killing.

The return Tuesday came at a ceremony attended by officials of the Manhattan district attorney’s Antiquities Trafficking Unit and U.S. Homeland Security Investigations, who cooperated on the case.

The coin, one of 29 artifacts returned to Greek officials, was given up earlier this year by an unidentified American billionaire who, investigators said, had bought it in good faith in 2020. The British dealer who helped to arrange the sale was arrested in January, and the coin itself was recovered in February, officials said.

Experts said the coin, minted two years after Caesar’s death, is about the size of a nickel and weighs about 8 grams, and is one of only three known to be in circulation. A silver version of the coin was also minted and about 100 are known to exist. Those can sell for $200,000 to $400,000.

“The Eid Mar is an undisputed masterpiece of ancient coinage,” Mark Salzberg, the chairman of Numismatic Guaranty Corp., which verified the coin but does not research provenances, said in a statement in 2020.

Experts said they believe the coin was likely discovered more than a decade ago in an area of current-day Greece where Brutus and his civil war ally, Gaius Cassius Longinus, were encamped with their army.

The front, or obverse, of the coin features an engraved side view of Brutus and the Latin letters “BRVT IMP” and “L PLAET CEST.” Experts say the former stands for “Brutus, Imperator,” with imperator referring not to emperor but to commander. The latter stands for Lucius Plaetorius Cestianus, who was a treasurer of sorts for Brutus and oversaw the minting and assaying of his coins.

The reverse features two daggers on either side of a cap known as a pileus. The daggers stand for Brutus and Cassius and reflect the manner of Caesar’s death, experts say, while the cap is a symbol of liberty that was worn by freed slaves. Overall, the image is meant to celebrate the murder as an act by which Rome was liberated from Caesar’s tyranny. Beneath the symbols is the Latin inscription “EID MAR,” designating the Ides of March — March 15, 44 B.C. — the fateful day on which the conspirators left Caesar dead on the floor of the Roman Senate.

Historians see irony in the fact that Brutus, who had admonished Caesar before the murder for the self-aggrandizing act of putting his face on Roman coinage, wound up doing the same with his own coins.

Ultimately, the forces who favored the dead Caesar, led by Mark Antony and others, defeated Brutus and his men in October of 42 B.C. at the Second Battle of Philippi, and Brutus and Cassius committed suicide.

According to investigators, the coin is first thought to have come to market between 2013 and 2014. Richard Beale, 38, director of the London-based auction house Roma Numismatics, put it up for sale on his company’s website and over several years shopped it at coin shows in the United States and Europe before it was sold in October 2020. The $4.2 million was the most ever paid for an ancient coin, according to the Numismatic Guaranty Corp.

Mr. Beale is charged with grand larceny in the first degree and several other felonies and was released on his own recognizance. His lawyer, Henry E. Mazurek, declined to comment on the case.

Among the other Greek antiquities repatriated on Tuesday were figurines of people and animals; marble, silver, bronze and clay vessels; and gold and bronze jewelry. Their total value was put at $20 million.

In remarks at the ceremony, Konstantinos Konstantinou, Greece’s consul general in New York, said his country has been hit hard by the illicit trading of antiquities and is seeking their return “in every possible way.”

He praised investigators for “striking down the illegal international criminal networks whose activity distorts the identity of peoples, as it cuts off archaeological finds from their context and transforms them from evidence of people’s history into mere works of art.”

By Tom Mashberg.

#Very Rare Roman Gold Coin is Returned to Greece #Julius Caesar #Marcus Junius Brutus #Eid Mar #gold #gold coin #collectable coin #ancient artifacts #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #roman history #roman empire #Mark Antony #Second Battle of Philippi #long reads

[catilinas]

if you were to make an ides of march themed coffee drink what do u think screams a man getting stabbed several times over?

sleeplessness as a Motif in jc is OUT from now on we are focusing on cassius' anachronistic coffee machine.

Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, I have not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: The Genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.

i think in the space of that incomplete line (i have not slept) brutus should take a massive slurp from a mug of coffee. (i can excuse the anachronism but i'm not sure if cassius would actually drink coffee? maybe he just makes it for brutus. who Has Not Slept). artist's rendition of brutus' mug:

do you think the number of stab wounds in caesar being relatively way fewer than the number of conspirators / the general poor aim and accidental injury among the conspirators was due to jittery hands from the coffee from cassius' anachronistic coffee machine (which he obtained through The Time Loop. btw). do you think the reason cicero was not included in the conspiracy was because then cassius would have to let cicero try coffee and that would have been genuinely cataclysmic to the political state of rome (i think tiro deserves to try coffee though).

anyway. if i were to make an ides of march themed coffee drink i think the only appropriate addition / flavour would be blood

#'from you great rome shall luck life reviving blood' and all that #*SUCK. #why does brutus have this mug in a scene from Before cassius convinced him to join the conspiracy you ask? #it is leftover from the vettius affair. #ides of march #beware the ides of march #julius caesar #beeps

[shakespearenews]

Every writer in the English language, I should imagine, has at some point hated Shakespeare, has turned away from that monstrous achievement with a kind of sick envy. In my most anti-English days I condemned him as a chauvinist (“this England” indeed!) and because I felt it so bitterly anomalous that a black man should be forced to deal with the English language at all — should be forced to assault the English language in order to be able to speak — I condemned him as one of the authors and architects of my oppression...

...

I still remember my shock when I finally heard these lines from the murder scene in Julius Caesar. The assassins are washing their hands in Caesar’s blood. Cassius says:

Stoop then, and wash. — How many ages hence Shall this our lofty scene be acted over, In states unborn and accents yet unknown!

...What I suddenly heard, for the first time, was manifold. It was the voice of lonely, dedicated, deluded Cassius, whose life had never been real for me before — I suddenly seemed to know what this moment meant to him. But beneath and beyond that voice I also heard a note yet more rigorous and impersonal — and contemporary: that “lofty scene,” in all its blood and necessary folly, its blind and necessary pain, was thrown into a perspective which has never left my mind. Just so, indeed, is the heedless State overthrown by men, who, in order to overthrow it, have had to achieve a desperate single-mindedness. And this single-mindedness, which we think of (why?) as ennobling, also operates, and much more surely, to distort and diminish a man — to distort and diminish us all, even, or perhaps especially, those whose needs and whose energy made the overthrow of the State inevitable, necessary, and just.

...

My relationship, then, to the language of Shakespeare revealed itself as nothing less than my relationship to myself and my past. Under this light, this revelation, both myself and my past began slowly to open, perhaps the way a flower opens at morning, but more probably the way an atrophied muscle begins to function, or frozen fingers to thaw.

...

The greatest poet in the English language found his poetry where poetry is found: in the lives of the people. He could have done this only through love — by knowing, which is not the same thing as understanding, that whatever was happening to anyone was happening to him. It is said that his time was easier than ours, but I doubt it — no time can be easy if one is living through it. I think it is simply that he walked his streets and saw them, and tried not to lie about what he saw: his public streets and his private streets, which are always so mysteriously and inexorably connected; but he trusted that connection. And, though I, and many of us, have bitterly bewailed (and will again) the lot of an American writer — to be part of a people who have ears to hear and hear not, who have eyes to see and see not — I am sure that Shakespeare did the same. Only, he saw, as I think we must, that the people who produce the poet are not responsible to him: he is responsible to them.

That is why he is called a poet. And his responsibility, which is also his joy and his strength and his life, is to defeat all labels and complicate all battles by insisting on the human riddle, to bear witness, as long as breath is in him, to that mighty, unnameable, transfiguring force which lives in the soul of man, and to aspire to do his work so well that when the breath has left him, the people — all people! — who search in the rubble for a sign or a witness will be able to find him there.

#shakespeare #william shakespeare #james baldwin #baldwin #worth quoting in full #best of #writing #writers

[lyomeii]

Yandere Platonic! Jeremy Agriche vs Yandere Cassis Pedelian

->warnings: yandere theme, spoilers for season finale, manipulation, maria and lante being bad parents,

-> request by @acuriousmoon! Hello! May I request some hcs for a yandere Cassius Pedelian with a gn!reader who is a precious member of the Agriche family? and @hiimarandin! hey it's me again lmao can u do yandere Jeremy from The Series Roxana it doesn't matter if it's platonic or not idc

->a/n: since this two request had similar request, I decided to write them as one and create more caos between the two characters that I love too much, also this is the longest writing i did(?) in this blog, so sorry if this took a while to post it :) hope u guys enjoy it!

-> disobeying your father and mother orders, and ignoring Jeremy advice, you entered the basement by yourself with a a basket full of medicines and food, the guards gave you a weird look but they knew it would be better if they just let you in ( no one what to know what Lante can do when someone mess up with you )

-> most of the cells were empty but one, a man no much older than you , full of scars and bleeding from many cuts, and without hesitation, you kneeled on his side and started patching his wounds the best way you can do without messing his health more

-> at first, he was confused and suspicious about your acts with him, however, with your genuine smile, he knew that you wouldn’t hurt him, in fact, he couldn’t deny that you were gorgeous, maybe he is there for much time that he is touched starved, and now he enjoy any type of touch and since you are the only to do it, he start caring about you and your little visits

-> some days after first meeting the man in the basement, you kept visiting him every day, bringing him more food ( handmade by you which he loved ), bandages with medicines ( he always thanked you ) and in return, he would tell stories about his family and he place of birth, making you amazed with his life

-> after a while, you introduced yourself as [name], daughter of maria agriche and young sister of deon, with such innocent smile, making the man questioning himself about that, but he introduced him after as cassis pedelian, you two become acquaintances after that

-> with that, maria along other noticed your new routine, visiting the basement was nothing common to you, and roxanna was the one to know why

-> her little butterfly told her that you and cassis were interacting regular, and even though she likes you opening yourself to others, she is afraid that you going to change the storyline and tells Lante and Maria about it, making both ground you in order to stay say from cassis as long they wish

-> because of that, you went there one last time and said goodbye to him, and cassis asked why you wouldn’t return next day, only to say that your parents didn’t want you to interact with him, that left cassis worried about your state, what you family would do with you?

-> but he never discovery that, you never returned the next day, leaving him with roxanna and the others to torturing him

->without going to the basement, you got a new routine, one that maria and Lante made you do since you don’t talk with cassis anymore

-> first, deon starting training you with a dagger he gave you, according to him, many will try to take advantage to you and kill you in the end, due to that, he makes sides to training you but not enough to ruin your innocence

-> roxanna and Jeremy now can spend their time with you, doing what depends how they feel, sometimes they talk or just go out with you to buy new clothes, also jeremy loves to pinch your cheeks, he says that you look adorable

-> speaking of Jeremy, he is the one who spend more time with you than the others, making sure you only fell truly happiness and forgetting about that idiot called Cassis

-> as your older brother by a few months, Jeremy is your shield from the evil world, not leaving you to spend time with anyone from outside without a supervisor of him or anyone from the family

-> also, he brought you a lot of gifts! such as the finest clothes, candies and exotics food! he pretty much do that only to see you smile and become happier with his presence

-> the only two member that won’t spend time with you are fortaine and Charlotte. who often ignore you presence most of the time and lante, since they busy with their works and torture and consider you stupid for being soft and innocent

-> as times pass, maria start making your learn etiquette, going out to meet other family and participate in balls, a dynamic that you had to admit, it was fun to do with your mother,

-> after roxanna help cassis escaped from the manor and faking his death, Lante neither Maria would talk it in your front, hoping that you would forget about cassis and the whole situation with him and that what happened with help of some medicines they gave you

-> until three years passed in a blink of eyes, and you went to the ball where the four families reunited

-> maria choose to make you wear a gorgeous but simple dress/suit, she didn’t want to you call attention of any future suitable engagement but that wasn’t enough

-> when the time arrived, the pedelian show up to the ball, and cassis was there alive with his sister and father wearing themed blue clothes, and the white man and golden eyes made you recall a distant memory

-> a memory about meeting a man deep down in the basement and helping him, could he be that person? your red eyes fixed on his golden eyes, and you completely remember the stories he told you when you were younger

—

With every step you take closer to Cassis, your heart beat faster. In the first time in forever, you were overjoyed, seeing the Cassis after all those years thinking he was dead is making you excited, maybe you could ask him how he did that! And this time, you might even ask him about his family.

A gloved hand was wrapped in your wrist, stopping you taking more steps closer to him, “What?” looking back, you saw Jeremy holding you and Roxanna along his side with her iconic smile on the face, what are they doing? “ Could you guys let me go? I need to talks with the pedelian family” your pleading wasn’t heard by neither of them, however Jeremy’s face change, instead of the worried one, now it is a disgusting one.

He put you closer to him, being stronger and taller than you made it easier to him, “ Don’t interact with them” the whispers was only loud enough to you and Roxanna to hear, “ You don’t have any ideas how dangerous they are, what they will do to with you if you get closer to them” lies! Cassis wouldn’t never hurt you, you know him better than both of your siblings.

You took Jeremy’s hand away from your wrist and once again tried to walk away from them, but this time was Roxanna who stopped you from doing that.

Even though her eyes are red as your, something on her makes you feel scared, maybe is her attitude or the ways she acts, doesn’t matter, she knows how to control you without saying a word.

Now, you are shivering of fear, her eyes started making you feel smaller than usual, and Jeremy on your side without intervening, “ Im sorry… I will stay here with both of you…” your excitement suddenly vanished from your face and got in Roxanna and Jeremy face instead, both overjoyed that their sibling would be the rest of the ball with them.

“ Now, let’s have some drinks” your brother took your hands in his and slowly walk away from the crowd. For every step you take away from the white haired boy, your mind got even more blank, was really the friendship you had with him nothing? Just a way to Cassis gain information from you? Maybe you were stupid as Fontaine once told you.

And now, Cassis watched you walk away from him and his family, dumbstruck as why you would do that. Seconds ago, you were coming to greet him and now… you are leaving him, why?

He couldn’t comprehend your action until he saw Roxanna watching Jeremy taking you away, a smile on your brother’s face while you look depressed and emotionless. Now he understands why that’s happened, and now Cassis found a extra reason to save you from the Agriche family.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere x you #yandere platonic #yandere cassis pedelian #cassis pedelian x reader #cassis pedelian #jeremy agriche x reader #jeremy agriche headcanon #yandere Jeremy agriche #yandere cassis pedelian x reader #the way to protect female lead’s older brother imagine #the way to protect female lead’s older brother x reader #yandere the way to protect female lead’s older brother x reader #yandere manhwa

[poorlittleyaoyao]

I do love the book but it's harder to get through than the show if you don't care for wangxian just because the focus is that much narrower. The nature of adaptation and also CQL having objectively too many episodes(Guanyin temple did NOT need four eps lol) turns it into an ensemble show with something for everyone. Yanli takes fifty chapters to show up and Wen Qing doesn't make her entrance until chapter 60. I am one of those people who very much do enjoy wangxian both separately and together but I also consider them one of the less interesting storylines and there are relatively few scenes of theirs I reread compared to the rest of the cast.

AGREEEEEED. The show cares so much for the supporting characters and gives such life to them--as adaptations of works with such vast words SHOULD once they've been freed from the constraints of first-person or third-person-limited narration, honestly. Knowing that there's less WQ in the novel is particularly disappointing to me, bc I love her friendship with WWX, and had hoped All WWX All The Time would at least mean more mad scientist friendship time! Alas.

That said. I am going to go on a tangent because ohhhhhhhh my god, Guanyin Temple and its need for editing.

@maester-of-spreadsheets and I have compared Guanyin Temple to Act IV of a Shakespeare play. A lot of Act IVs includes a super intense scene where the characters are in a state of HIGH EMOTION as shit hits the fan and we hurtle towards the climactic action in Act V--Ophelia's mad scene, Richard II's deposition, Brutus and Cassius's breakup fight, Richard III's coercion of Elizabeth Woodville, etc. These scenes are all CERTIFIED BANGERS that hold their plays together.

However. The reason these scenes go so hard is that they're just ONE SCENE. One really long-ass scene, maybe, but "long" here is maybe 20 minutes, bc we can't chug along with the same exact level and type of intensity for much longer than and remain engaged... which is EXACTLY what happens in CQL's iteration of Guanyin Temple. Without Mingjue's corpse busting in like the Kool-Aid man to release the tension in explosive action (the blade spirit does NOT cut it unless "it" is JGY's arm) or Wangxian's confession to release tension with some levity, it's just tearful emotional reckoning after tearful emotional reckoning for THREE ENTIRE HOURS.

And like, I 100% find every plot being rehashed at Guanyin Temple more interesting than anything Wangxian have going, but it's weird to have our protagonists just sitting there spectating other people's emotional implosions for the equivalent of an entire feature-length film. Like, they tried with the curse mark thing and the Second Flautist, but all the plot permits WWX to do is scowl tearfully about these major revelations because JGY's gotta be killed by NHS via LXC.

It had me by the throat when I first watched it because all the information was BRAND NEW and I genuinely didn't know what was going to happen, but on rewatches I just get tired. Individual bits are great on their own, but as one long slog? Noooooo thank you. And the abrupt mood whiplash and confused pacing once the focus returns to Wangxian for good leaves a weird taste in my mouth.

[greenerteacups]

Does Hermione know about Draco's awkward first kiss with Daphne (I'm really curious about what they talked about!) and did she also have an awkward first kiss with Krum? I think canon suggests that she did actually have a more romantic relationship with Viktor than Harry particularly notices (because Ginny throws it in Ron's face in HBP), but I would imagine Lionheart Draco would have definitely noticed if that was the case, right?

she doesn't know about it, but it wouldn't surprise her, either; there've been rumors. draco doesn't talk about it because he's too tight-laced, but daphne makes it clear when it happens that she intends to throw it in theo's face, and by the next chapter, the rumors have spread to people like cassius. also, daphne and draco came in together during hermione's fight with ron, and hermione has a keen eye. she might put two and two together, or at least harbor suspicions.

with respect to viktor, i think hermione had more of a relationship with krum than draco's willing to admit — viktor finds a time to ask her out when she's by herself, and they have the kind of rapport that stems from multiple conversations — but her distance and awkwardness in the third task suggest, to me, that it's still very much a budding Something, not an established romantic relationship. viktor is very eager to get to know her better, and they're friendly enough that he can offer to visit her and welcome her to his home country, but the way she acts before the maze doesn't come across to me as someone with serious romantic feelings for krum.

i can't say if she kissed him or not — that's the kind of event that, if it happens/happened, will eventually come out in the fic! — but i will point out the canonical fact that hermione appreciates a "really good quidditch player," fwiw.

#greenteacup asks #lionheart spoilers

[singdreamchild]

Wild Child || Cassius & Sage

LOCATION: Wicked's Rest Public Library and Cassius's home TIMING: Saturday 1/6 PARTIES: Cassius (@singdreamchild) & Sage (@sagescarlett) SUMMARY: Sage looks for help after her home is destroyed, Cassius finds her naked in front of the library and decides to take her in. WARNINGS: None

-

It was late, and Cassius didn’t sleep. Well, he could if he wanted to. He just didn’t want to. So, instead, he’d decided to take a walk through the sleeping town, with the only thing lighting his way were the streetlights. Normally, on nights when he couldn’t sleep, he’d go to The Masque of the Red Eye. There was too much on his mind tonight to get any work done. His sire had been acting increasingly distant recently, and it was eating at him. He didn’t dare approach Richard, but it weighed heavy on him. Sometimes, he needed to go for a walk to gather his thoughts and figure out how to approach the situation. That was if Richard would even let him.

Deep in his thoughts and worries that Richard would slip away from him again, Cassius realized he was approaching the library. He noticed a figure peering into the library and frowned. “Library isn’t open at two in the morning,” the blonde said with a smirk spread across his face. “Is there a certain text you’re looking for, or just a passing curiosity?” He raised a brow, wondering what business someone could possibly be up to in the middle of the night in front of a library. Then again, he was here, too, so he didn’t have all that much room to speak on it.

The russet werewolf stood before the strange building in her human form, red locks of wavy hair cascading down to the middle of her bare back. Having just arrived in Wicked's Rest from the woods where she'd spent almost her entire life as a werewolf, she didn't yet have clothing of her own thus she stood in all her naked glory. The moonshine shone on her pale skin almost making her appear like she was glowing. 

For a long few moments she peered into the darkened windows of the strange building, green gaze just barely making out shelves lined with books. She debated going inside too look further despite not being able to read, however her mind was made up for she when a voice spoke up behind her. Startled, Sage whirled around and dropped into a defensive crouch, lips pulling back into a low snarl despite being human. 

Once Cassius got a good look at the person, the first thing he realized was naked. He averted his gaze, suddenly unsure what to do. Why was she naked? Of all the people he could have run into, a naked woman crouched and ready to strike wasn’t on his list. “Oh, um.” He shrugged off the long black trenchcoat he wore and handed it over to her, still averting his gaze. “Here, put this on.” He insisted.

“Are you… trying to get something from the library?” He tried again, this time with his voice a little more calm and gentle. Clearly, she was either just escaped from the hospital inpatient ward or she was something other than human. Or both, it could also be both. He wasn’t quite sure yet. “I’m Cassius,” he introduced, putting a hand to his chest. He figured if he at least tried to converse with her, she’d be less likely to strike, to not see him as a threat.

Sage stared at him, her growl growing louder when he took his coat off and held it out to her. She didn't trust this strange man and wasn't about to get closer to him. 

“Sage”, she replied, her voice rough with disuse, “What is a library?” She ignored the coat even when he seemed to insist she take it. 

When the coat wasn’t grabbed, Cassius tossed it onto the ground and finally looked over at her. “A library is a place where books are. The written word? Writing?” The vampire gave the girl a once-over. No clothes, crouched and growling, her voice sounded ragged and unused. She was a wild creature in every sense of the world. He had to treat her like he would a scared animal, didn’t he? 

Slowly, Cassius raised his hands to show he meant no harm and bowed his head downward. “I don’t mean you any harm. I only wish to help,” he insisted, blue eyes looking searching her face. “Do you have a home, Sage?” He asked, brows furrowing.

She sprang forwards the moment the coat touched the ground, snatching it up and slipping it on before standing up to her full 5’2” hight. The coat was much too big for her, but she didn't seem to mind as she folded it closed around her naked form. Looking up at the taller man, she furrowed her brow in confusion. “Written…word”, she echoed and shook her head. “What is written word?” The more she spoke to him the more confused she became. 

Grief flashed across her face at the mention of home, an ache twisting in her heart. “Gone. Home is gone. I came for help” she replied after a moment of silence. 

Cassius watched as the girl snatched up the coat, feeling more at ease once her body was covered. “Books!” He exclaimed, pointing to the books behind the glass window. “Text messages, emails, letters, all of these people will write to each other to convey some sort of message.” He thought for a moment, then tilted his head. “Instead of speaking, they are written.” He pulled out his phone and opened his text messages with Lukas. She couldn’t read them, so it was nothing that bothered him. “See? These are words.” 

He watched as the grief flickered across her, and he instantly felt bad. “Oh.” He said softly, then nodded his head. “Your home is… gone?” Cassius blinked. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard someone talk of their home being wiped out. He felt for her, knowing that in a sense, his first ever home was gone too, lost in a world that time had passed on from. “I know you do not trust me yet, but…” he trailed off, knowing this was either a terrible idea or a good one. He thought to his sire, what would her reaction be? He didn’t know. But he couldn’t leave her to fend for herself, though something told him that she’d be able to. “...you can come with me.” He finally decided. “Home for me is in Nightfall Grove.” He explained. “I go walking at night to clear my head. It’s how I ended up here.” He explained. 

Sage took in Cassius's words and allowed him to step closer to show her the odd box thing that glowed. Staring blankly at the words written there she nodded even though she really didn't get it. 

Taking a breath to ease her tense form she studied Cassius thoughtfully. He hadn’t attacked her and had only offered her assistance so she couldn't see a reason to turn down his offer. Warily she smiled up at him. “Can we hunt at your home?” She asked tilting her head. “I will come if I can eat something”. 

“I can teach you,” Cassius insisted with a soft smile before tucking his phone away. “I am a teacher, I’m thinking about switching to teaching English classes next year, actually.” He admitted, not knowing if those words meant anything to her. 

As the girl, Sage, finally relaxed, Cassius felt himself relax. Then she asked about hunting. “Well, I don’t think we hunt the same things.” He admitted with a smirk. “If you need to hunt for food, that would be in the woods.” He explained, scratching at the back of his neck. “At home, I can cook you food, but my home is a house.” He gestured for her to follow him back in the direction of his home. 

As they walked, Cassius pulled out his phone and sent off a text to Richard, who responded with “You and your bleeding heart. I’ll cook a steak.” Cassius couldn’t help but smirk at his sire’s message, then tucked his phone away. “I have a feeling you are not entirely human.” He surmised as they walked, listening to he plap of her feet against the cold ground. “And you should know, nor am I.”

Sage walked beside him, pulling the coat around her tighter. “You will teach me to do write words?” She asked, the prospect of it lighting her gaze with excitement. “Please. I would like that very much. Ma and Pa..”. She stopped mid sentence and changed the subject quickly. She didn't want to think about them at the moment. Or Rowen…

“I will eat whatever you have…the woods aren't safe anymore…” She said softly, dropping her gaze to watch her footsteps. When a car rushed by too close, she yipped and shrank closer to Cassius. 

Part of Cassius’s heart went out to Sage, she must have been so scared, the cars making her shrink away, the noises she made when something startled her. She was undoubtedly some kind of shifter, for her to be completely nude in the middle of town, to seem more wild than anything. It left a lot more questions than answers. “I’ll teach you, yes.” He promised with a soft smile as they walked. “We’ll get you a phone and some programs, that way the phone will talk to you instead of having to know how to read. It’ll make sending messages easier for you.” He sent another text to Richard about ordering the girl a phone. 

“I live with my— Richard.” He didn’t want to expose the whole vampire thing, but he also felt it was necessary. “You see, we’re… not entirely human either. Spent all our lives blending in with humans, so you don’t have to worry.” The vampire turned to the girl, trying to gage her reaction as they turned into the nightfall grove neighborhood. 

After another block or so, Cassius walked up to a Victorian house at the end of a street. “This is my home.” He told her, smiling softly. He was glad he’d finally stopped living in a crypt, he felt more like a person again. He opened the front door and stepped in, waving a hand to usher her in. “Make yourself at home, I’ll get you some clothes.” 

_

Sage nodded at his explanations and promise to teach her to write words. She kept close to him in fear of every little new sound and car zipping past them. She didn't didn't think she liked the speedy things. At the mention of a phone she furrowed her brow in confusion again. “What's a phone?”, she asked curiously. 

As Cassius continued on explaining that he and whoever Richard was, weren't human she seemed to relax even more. “I am a werewolf”, she responded proudly. “Are you werewolf too?” 

When the two turned into Night Grove, she briefly gazed around at the different buildings. These were smaller that the library with those strange zoomie things she didn't like. Huffing at the sight of them, she turned her attention to the house Cassius lead her too. Slipping inside when he ushered her in, she stood in the hallway uncertainly. “Okay…”, she agreed as he left her to get her something to wear. 

While she waited, she looked around the hallway, too afraid to explore just yet. She wasn't sure how to feel about being inside just yet, though already she could tell it was going to get some getting used too. She was used to the open sky, and the soft twinkling light of stars above her. Looking up at the ceiling she was dismayed at not being able to see the night sky. Maybe she could sleep outside?

Cassius nodded slowly, the puzzle pieces sliding into place as she asked what a phone was followed by claiming she was a werewolf. “Ah, remember that object I showed you? The light box? That is a phone. You can use it to communicate with others.” He explained with a nod. “I am not a werewolf,” he then added, taking a deep breath. “I am a vampire.” It felt strange every time he exposed what he was to someone else. But she deserved to know the truth if he was going to take her under his wing. 

“The man I live with, Richard, he is an elder vampire. He’s my sire.” He further explained before heading up the stairs to find something for her to wear. He ran into Richard, who was keen on hiding from the girl. Cassius gave him an odd look before continuing on his way toward his room to look for something suitable. A pair of too-small sweatpants here, a band t-shirt there. It would do until he could get to the store and buy her some clothes that actually fit her. He made a mental note to talk to Leila about the situation. He knew she’d be more than happy to help. 

He returned downstairs, seeing her in the hallway where he left her. “Here, you can put these on.” He explained, then opened one of the hallway doors to the half bathroom. “You can change in here.” he then added with a smile. “Something about modern society enjoying privacy when changing and all that.”

While Sage dressed in something more suitable than his oversized black trenchcoat, Cassius went into the kitchen to see a cooked steak on the counter. “I suspect you like your meat rare?” He asked over his shoulder, noticing that Richard had even gone through the effort to steam some vegetables for her on the side. That elicited a smile from the blonde before setting it at the table with a fork and knife, having half a mind to think that the girl would have no idea how to use them. Oh well, he could teach her. There would be a lot to teach, and he knew it would take everyone he knew in town to help out. He pulled out his phone and began to send messages to the people he knew could help. Lukas, Leila, and Zofia. They could help, he knew they could. 

After all, it would take a village to get this girl on her feet. Good thing she came to the right place.

She blinked in surprise at learning what a phone was. Pleased that it was at least something small she could carry with her, and that he would help her work out how best utilize it with her inability to read and write. “I see. I would very much like to have one of those”, she grinned. 

Her heart stopped at the explanation of what he and Richard being vampires. That was something she did know and understand. Her parents had always warned Rowen and her that that they were cold, heartless creatures that preyed upon the humans. They didn’t care for anything but their next meal. However, after meeting Cassius she wasn’t entirely sure they had been right about that. He didn’t seem cold or heartless to her. If he was he wouldn’t have offered her help and a place to stay while he taught her how to read and write.

When Cassius returned to her with clothing and showed her where she could get dressed, she silently obeyed. She didn't pay much attention to the clothing when she put them on, but momentarily got distracted by her own reflection in the mirror. Staring at herself she marveled at the freckles that sprinkled her cheeks and nose. She didn't know she had them. Her hair on the other hand was another story. It was dirty And more than slightly tangled in places. Wincing at it, she turned away and rejoined Cassius. 

Sage found him in a strange room with sinks, counters, and everything else a kitchen required. Heading over to the table where the smell of food drew her in, she sat and immediately stared confusedly at the utensils. Picking up the pronged one, she examined it for a moment before smiling. It must be to fix her messy hair. That was the only thing she could think of using it for. The knife and other odd round one she would worry about after. For a now she hummed to herself and began to brush her hair before eatting. For now she was safe. 

#Wild Child #threads #sagescarlett #I love Sage so much #I can't wait to see her arc unfold :pleading:

[theantonian]

Why was Antony loved by the Romans even after the proscriptions?

"There was much simplicity in Antony's character. He was slow to see his faults, but when he did see them, he was extremely repentant and ready to ask pardon of those he had injured. He was severe in his punishments, but prodigal in his acts of reparation; and his generosity was much more extravagant than his severity. His banter or abuse, for example, was sharp and insulting, but the edge of it was dulled by his readiness to accept any kind of repartee, and he was as willing to be sworn at as he was to swear at others." writes Plutarch.

Cassius Dio, writing more than two and a half centuries after Antony's death, describes Antony as being the most ruthless of the three Triumvirs at the time of the proscriptions.

So does Velleius, but it was his policy to show Augustus, in whose circle he moved, in the best light, and to malign Antony. He accused Antony, in any case, chiefly of having shut forever Cicero's "divine lips"; but the Philippics were not divine they were devilish.

But Suetonius who was separated from the period by over a hundred year less than this, and is the better authority, is emphatic, says that Octavian was the only one of the three who showed no wish to bring the massacre to an end. Antony, in fact, appears to have been the first to feel shame for his atrocious behaviour; and at any rate there can be no doubt that he alone retained his popularity with Rome's democracy, whereas Octavian was detested. People jested at his expense; they accused him of being so fond of fine furniture and antiques that he would condemn a man in order to get the coveted collections; and they say that he used to get drunk and cruelly add names to the lists of the proscribed. Antony, on the contrary, when he was intoxicated, seems to have beamed upon the world in ineffable goodwill; and Plutarch, in his comparison between him and Demetrius, describes him under the influence of wine as being like Hercules deprived of his club and his lion's skin, and as wanting only to have a game with somebody.

Antony is also credited with humane behaviour. Appian says that Antony showed “unusual sympathy toward victims of the proscriptions and that he warned many”. Appian has many other instances of Antony’s clemency, for example that a certain Sergius was hidden in Antony’s own house.

Cicero might charge rhetorically, that only the lawless derelicts were following Antony, in actuality, more nobles were trusting Antony than Octavian.

As for Cicero, his own slave Philologus gave information of his whereabouts to the officers. The officer, sword in hand, ran at him; and Cicero with perfect dignity bent his head and extended his neck to receive the blow, "Of all his misfortunes," wrote Livy, "death was the only one that he bore like a man."

When Cicero’s head and hand were brought to the Triumvirs in Rome, Antony uttered an uncomfortable laugh, and, to put the best face upon a shameful business, cried "Now there can be an end of our proscriptions!" at the same time telling his men to place the head and the hand upon the rostra, that all men might know the penalty of double-dealing and lies. But when they brought Philologus forward to receive his reward, Antony angrily ordered him to be handed over to Pomponia, Cicero's sister-in-law, and this frenzied woman had him put to death with tortures. Fulvia, however, was more savage than her husband, and it is said that she took hold of Cicero's severed head and thrust one of her hairpins through the tongue.

Cicero's policies, so violent in denunciation and attack, had forced Antony to extremes he had not intended. And Cicero's support of Octavian, even to the point of illegality and war, had determined Antony's turning to the legions with all the resultant dangers of renewed civil wars.

Sources:

Plutarch's Life of Antony

Livy, quoted by Seneca: Suasoriarum

Dio Cassius, Roman History

Suetonius: Augustus

Seneca, De Clementia

Appian, The Civil Wars

Arthur Weigall, The Life of Times of Marc Antony

#marc antony #mark antony #marcus antonius #cicero #marcus tullius cicero #history #rome #roman history #ancient rome #roman republic #roman empire #quotes #plutarch

[shakesqueers13]

Do you think there is any possible heterosexual explanation for Aufidius’s lines in Act IV, scene V of Coriolanus?

Coriolanus, IV.v.112-139:

O Martius, Martius,

Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart

A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter

Should from yond cloud speak divine things

And say ’tis true, I’d not believe them more

Than thee, all-noble Martius. Let me twine

Mine arms about that body, whereagainst

My grainèd ash an hundred times hath broke

And scarred the moon with splinters.

⌜They embrace.⌝

Here I clip

The anvil of my sword and do contest

As hotly and as nobly with thy love

As ever in ambitious strength I did

Contend against thy valor. Know thou first,

I loved the maid I married; never man

Sighed truer breath. But that I see thee here,

Thou noble thing, more dances my rapt heart

Than when I first my wedded mistress saw

Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars, I tell thee

We have a power on foot, and I had purpose

Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn

Or lose mine arm for ’t. Thou hast beat me out

Twelve several times, and I have nightly since

Dreamt of encounters ’twixt thyself and me;

We have been down together in my sleep,

Unbuckling helms, fisting each other’s throat,

And waked half dead with nothing.

Hi!

Short answer: No, I do not think there is.

Long answer:

There are a ton of great scholarly papers and articles about the queer subtext (I mean, it's not really subtext, it's so overt, but I'll use the term anyway) in Coriolanus. I'll link some below so you can check them out if you're interested! But when Shakespeare writes about real people (Coriolanus isn't technically a history because Shakespearean histories must focus on the English crown, but you know what I mean) he tends to focus on emotions rather than historical events. Since at the time of him doing these productions, most people would've known the history he was recounting, his aim is not simply to tell the story, but to tell it in a way that is both emotionally impactful and narratively compelling.

We see this in Julius Caesar as well; Shakespeare takes a well known historical story and makes it into something really human and beautiful.

Along with humanizing the characters, Shakespeare's use of homoerotic subtext in this play also drives the plot forward. If the characters don't want to be with each other, the story doesn't really work. And in this case, as is the case with many gay Shakespeare pairs, it may be attributable to misogyny. Shakespeare would not have been able to, and may not have even considered the fact that he could, write a female character that moves the plot forward in the way Aufidius does. This is often the case. In Caesar, Brutus confides in Cassius because he cannot talk to Portia; in Hamlet, Horatio serves the role of a partner and confidant because Ophelia cannot. Of course, Shakespeare has some fantastic female characters, but that's not the point here. The point is that if Shakespeare wanted to write an equal partnership free from the constraints of society's expectations for women, he had to write two men. But just as he couldn't write female characters to be right-hand-men, so to speak, he couldn't write male characters to be other male character's lovers, so it's a very fine line. Which is why we get so, so much subtext.

Also, this is set in Rome so there's a bit of distance between Shakespeare and the subject matter; it isn't as familiar as a story set in the midst of England.

When analyzing classic literature for gay subtext, or any other kind of subtext, especially anti-establishment/anti-government or anti-religion messages, one of my biggest recommendations would be to start by noticing how the author has distanced themselves from the work. Oftentimes authors will tell stories that express their personal beliefs through many layers of distance so they can't be implicated. If they were flagged by censors for including forbidden messages, they would be able to craft a defense by claiming that the story didn't represent their personal beliefs. In this case, Shakespeare might've claimed that it was just Roman culture he was depicting, and that it didn't represent his personal beliefs.

The essay I'll link below has a really great breakdown of this speech and you should definitely check it out if you're interested in reading more and breaking this scene down line by line. I would do it myself, but I feel like this essay does a wonderful job and I don't want to just rehash everything it says and take credit. So take a look!

Thanks for the ask :) !! Feel free to comment if you want to discuss further!

#shakespeare #william shakespeare #dark academia #ask #academia

[o-craven-canto]

Ea, Our Second Chance (16)

16. Ean heraldry

(Index)

(< 15. Dissection of trepangfish)

(original page)

« ... He doth bestride the narrow world like a Colossus, and we petty men walk under his huge legs, and peep about to find ourselves dishonorable graves. » – Cassius, in William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, Act I, Scene II

« As the Romans knew well when they spoke of virtus, or the troubadours of valor, the worth of the sovereign is the same as his strength. Weak leaders terrorize their subjects, because they fear them; strong leaders want their people to walk with straight backs and eyes held high. Weak leaders keep their subjects quiet, because they have many mistakes to hide; strong leaders do not fear the truth. Weak leaders make their subjects work with the cane and the lash; strong leaders are served out of love. » – emperor Charles Saïd, A House Built on Sand

« There once was a fellow named Chuck / who was poor, ugly, and [redacted]-out-of-luck / He couldn't get laid / so he became king instead / just so he could find someone to [redacted] » – seditious rhyme of probable Pandavan origin, registered by the municipal police of Carcassonne, circa 310 AL

« One of Caesar Saïd's most ambitious accomplishments was the creation of a whole iconography from the ground up. Immediately after the Peacemaking Wars, he faced the need to strike a careful balance between the continuity of tradition with the culture of Earth, and the novelty of an empire of which he could be credited as true founder and maker... He would eventually resolve in favor of using organisms from this world, as popular choices from Earth's cultures such as eagles, lions, and bears meant little to the vast majority of his new subjects... Although it's interesting to notice that most of Saïd's heraldic beasts are in fact natives of Inanna, closer in location to the bureaucratic dreariness of Landing Point than to the fable spires of Montsalvat, but in the position of making the deepest impression upon the first generations of settlers.

... The springbear is an obvious symbol of overwhelming power. Like Hobbes' Leviathan, it can crush anything under its weight... As noted in Belvedere's recent work, it also represents an explicitely masculine incarnation of strength... Two charging springbears form visually the supporting columns of Saïd's personal coat-of-arms, strength channeled for the benefit of the Kingdom. The fact that no species of springbear is native to the Ninkasi Land does not lessen its significance anymore than the local lack of lions or, for that matter, unicorns lessened that of the British coat-of-arms on Earth.

... The colossal anzu-bird, which Saïd made a point of hunting personally in his harpoon-glider during his visit to Makka al-Jadida, justifies its own place in any heraldic system created on this planet... Named after the Mesopotamian harbinger of thunderstorms, the anzu combines extraordinary power and lightness, the qualities of an empire that must be at once immovable and dynamic; although at the same time its ungainly locomotion makes it extremely vulnerable on the ground... Its eye, in particular, caught the attention of poets and semiurges... ceaselessly staring at the blinding light of Utu, and nothing else, as the anzu fears no attack from above... The anzu-eye, as depicted for example on the chapels of Carcassonne and the ancestral shrines of Shangdu, is not merely a symbol of looking fearlessly into the sublime, but one that is purely an end in itself, with no need of practical justifications... In this sense it is contrasted with the anzu's olfactory flaps, distended in flight to detect food on the ground... In fact, the anzu is mainly a scavenger which, like Earth's vultures, uses its gliding capacity to cross the desert in search of carcasses, although it has been known to kill and eat living animals. The satyrical song "La Bravoure de l'Anzû", for broadcasting which Cyrus Yoshida was sentenced to sixty canestrikes in 266 AL, exaggerates its "cowardly" qualities, thus inverting its whole symbolic meaning...

... The honeybee was used by Napoleon and the early Mormons as symbol of industriousness and communal living (cf. the beehive structure of the townhall in New Zion)... In Ninkasi, its place is taken by the nest-building kirikits, who routinely risk their lives to gather food for their colony and defend it from predators. With their characteristic three hands and crude tool use, kirikits also add a connotation of intelligence that is lacking in bees... A colony of kirikits, almost two hundred members strong, is kept in the courtyard of the Imperial College in Mediolanum, making its nest on a grove of walnuts. The kirikit figures prominently on the College's paperwork...

... The use of the flute tree as symbol of pride and sturdiness is subtler, as it's not the whole plant, but rather the texture of its trunk that is used in heraldics... The peculiar "flute-bark" pattern (circles or ovals arranged in rosettes) is found on the ducal banners of Palmyra, the livery of land-based military officers, the porphyry paneling of the Ara Patrum... The apparent breaches or injuries in the trunk of flute trees are, of course, carefully crafted by nature to strengthen the trees, channeling the wind that would otherwise uproot them, and creating the lugubrious wail that resounds in the woods around Lake Svarog. This is exactly the trick employed by the architects of Palmyra for its high-rise towers, and by Sporean engineers for their arcologies, and serves as an excellent icon of resistance in the face of adversity.

... Saïd never quite justified his choice of the blue nova (Ouranthus cyaneus) as the Kingdom's official "flower"... It may have been a simple matter of personal preference. There are anecdotes about a young Saïd taking shelter in a grove of blue novae after being wounded in the Battle of the Sherida River... Richter has hypothesized a connection with the "Blaue Blume" of ancient German Romanticism, a symbol of longing and striving for the infinite, a fitting illustration of the motto Aut Caesar Aut Nihil... Less convincingly, Hrabe argues that the nine-fold symmetry of the plant-top might refer to the nine dukedoms of the Kingdom... »

– Theophilus Singh, Historical Compendium of the Celestial Kingdom, volume I, chapter IX, 276 AL

« I had a scaffold built just outside of Water's Edge [Byzantium], near where the river Sherida meets the waves of Rahab. The beauties of Ninkasi Land had fueled only corruption and debauchery for far too long an age [...] Three hundred prisoners, the worst criminals I could find in the long years of war, were brought there on open cars. Pirates, druglords, highwaymen, mobsters, terrorists, skilled in the crafts of murder, robbery, rape, and torture; those whose crimes were beyond pardon, those who could not be allowed to live in My Kingdom nor loosed upon other nations.

I had a theatre prepared around the scaffold. Nothing more than a few hundred folding chairs and fundamental facilities for the businessmen, the townheads, the landlords, and the scholars of Ninkasi. [...] Twenty by twenty the criminals went to the scaffold. My own black-gloved hand triggered the mechanism; they fell through the floor; the rope wrung their necks; and they died. Many of My men, who had suffered all manners of cruelties and indignities by their hand, regretted only that they would go so quickly to their final and greater Judge.

Other twenty came after, and then twenty more, until their whole number of three hundred was consumed. Some found some dignity in their final hour; some, who had never wept for another, wept for themselves; and some fell cursing God and Man, perjurying their innocence, and offering other, better lives in their stead. [...] Their bodies were buried on the shore under a great black stone, where good people still fear to tread. [...]

When the clocktower of Water's Edge struck one, I bade the witnesses rise. They would swear an oath of fealty to Me, and serve as My ministers and vassals, or simply My subjects; or they would leave the borders of the Kingdom forever, and forfeit any property they could not carry out within 48 hours. [...] A Joseon-born businessman, who had enjoyed much profit from the sale of unwilling services, said that I could not consider free an oath taken on pain of losing all of one's life's work. «Vae victis,» I responded; «It is only by My mercy that you are given this choice».

Four fifths of the present took the oath. The Europeans genuflected, the Americans saluted, the Chinese kowtowed, the Japanese bowed. All these gestures have the same meaning, and I accepted them equally. The rest was escorted to their homes to prepare their departure to our new borders. [...] My men, the children of Ninkasi, raised their guns, and thrice they cried as one: «Vive l'Empereur! Vive César Saïd!» A salvo of artillery made the distant hills tremble. The drone fleet traced My coat-of-arms in the skies.

Nine months later, the ground where Cutter's Bend once stood had been cleared of all contamination; and upon the basement of its ruins Montsalvat now glittered with marble and silver. There I kissed the hand of His Holiness Neophytus III; and there, after twenty-seven years of blood, sweat, and tears, the Titanium Crown finally rested on My brow. »

– Emperor Charles Saïd, quoted in Theophilus Singh, Historical Compendium of the Celestial Kingdom, volume III, chapter XIV, 279 AL

#speculative biology #speculative culture #scifi #worldbuilding #alien world #future history #my work #ea our second chance

[bakus-ramen-shop]

Bakuhatsu (ocsona) General Sheet

I mainly use baku as a twisted wonderland OC.

ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ:

Name: Bakuhatsu

Age: Unknown

Birthday: October 12th

Gender: cis woman, she/her/they/them

Height: 156 cm

Voice Actor: KanKan (yt)

Species: Cassius (closed species)

     Baku is a petite girl (woman?) with an energetic and extravagant personality. She acts bubbly and extroverted, albeit selfish and cocky at times, and always cracks jokes whenever she thinks it’s suited. Plus, she doesn’t really watch what she says and is brutally honest most of the time. However, a completely different personality is hidden under the big sweaters she always wears…

     Baku’s sweaters/hoodies serve as some sort of coping mechanism - she shows a radical change of demeanor in her “ off-sweater “ self. Off-sweater Baku is calm, quiet, awkward, and easily irritated. 

     With her sweater, Baku has her hair slicked back and spiky to translate her chaotic personality, and her eyes are closed as “ kitsune no me “, in a way so she “hides” her real self. Off sweater, most of the time in her dorm or any casual time, her hair is down to translate her introverted self and her eyes are open more than usual, indicating that you’re staring at who she really is.

ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ/ʀᴏʟᴇ:

     Baku is an oc/sona I use in a bunch of AUs. Most of the time she just fits in whatever world she’s in - a powerful rapper in Hypnosis Microphone, for example. In Twisted Wonderland, Baku is a teacher’s assistant at Night Raven College who also attends classes as a ramshackle student. She hangs out with the staff more than she does with the students.

ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ/ᴅɪꜱʟɪᴋᴇꜱ:

     Baku’s favourite foods are ramen, pastries, fried chicken and peach flavoured anything. She hates studying, situations that trigger her social anxiety, and not wearing a sweater in public. Her favourite colors are peach and dark teal.

ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ/ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

Spouse: Divus Crewel (Twisted Wonderland AU)

Best friends: Dazai Osamu ( BSD AU ) ; Rook Hunt (Twisted wonderland AU)

Son: Nevil Crewel

“ꜰᴜɴ ꜰᴀᴄᴛꜱ:”

  - Baku does not remember a past or any kind of childhood before her awakening in any kind of AU. She doesn’t know her age but knows she isn’t a child.

  -Baku only trusts Divus (twst) or Kunikida (bsd) to drive cars.

  - Baku hates the cold.

  - In Twisted Wonderland, it is a running gag that Baku steals a lot of thing. Yoinking would be a better word though. She always runs off with Divus’s coat, will take Rook’s hat, take pictures of herself with Cater’s phone when he’s not looking, or try on Trey’s glasses. She often steals hats from the Octavinelle students too.

    - Baku’s favourite animal are whales.

Note: 

     Baku and Divus’s romantic relationship does take place during her time in Twisted Wonderland. However, I’m not a fannn of student/teacher relationships and neither should you. Please keep in mind they are more like friends to best friends to lovers than a student-teacher relationship. They genuinely got along as friends hanging out ( Plus, Baku is great friends with the whole staff. They don’t belittle her or see her as a child, which she’s not ) She’s like a funky person attending their classes. They’re all on a first name basis too. Anyways, its hard to explain but I don’t like student-teacher relationships either and don’t want to see myself as a creep. I could’ve made Baku as a member of the staff but she’s simply no fit to be a teacher.

#illustration #twisted wonderland fanart #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst #twst oc #divus crewel #divus crewel x reader #twst divus #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #hypnosis microphone #bungou stray dogs #epel felmier #riddle rosehearts #malleus draconia #nrc staff #art #fanart #aesthetic #sketch #digital art #original character #oc #anime girl #anime #manga #idia shroud #azul ashengrotto #deuce spade

[aninkwellofnectar]

Glad to see you around here ☺️

And to inaugurate your inbox (whenever you feel up for it, no rush)... what is it about Laila and Serafina that makes them the perfect protagonists for each book, from your perspective?

Lau have I ever told you that I love you? 💖

This is actually an excellent question because the parallels between Laila and Serafina and the duality of their narratives is something I find more and more chewy and weighty the more I ruminate on them. And I definitely don't think the story would pan out the same if they were in each other's narratives. Their specific strengths and weaknesses would get them to play it in another manner entirely.

First of all, I'll start with why Laila is the ideal protagonist for WHEN THE STARS ALIGHT and beyond.

I consider her to be a great way to toy with and counter the ingenue trope. The thing about Laila is a lot of the narrative hinges on the fact that she is quite sheltered, naive and overall ""untainted"" by the ills of the world. She doesn't have the in-depth knowledge of misogyny and how it works to become wise to it. So it makes sense for her to be ignorant of it (or arrogant regarding it). If she isn't innocent and hopeful enough to fall for someone like Darius a lot of her tragedy would be averted but, simultaneously, she needs that ~guise of dainty goodness to lure out the softer aspects of her leading men and make them less likely to fathom harming her.

If I may veer into a bit of a dark subject matter for a second, I was watching an interview by a woman who was held in a hostage situation by violent men and was constantly in fear of being raped by them. She talked about how she would often counter this threat by purposefully endearing herself to these men, cooking them meals, cleaning up after them, empathising with them and listening to them talk about the ills in their marriage. She phrased it as making them see and value her presence as a woman. The entire thing was sickening and chilling to me but definitely revealed something in the nature of how women develop these soft power strategies to subtly manipulate men and diffuse the threat of their violence. For her it worked for as long as it needed to for her to eventually get away to safety but it wasn't due to any inherent feminine goodness she held, she was sharp, decisive and very precise with these gestures. She knew what she was doing.

Laila is very much the same in that regard. She has the tools at her disposal and she plays them well and it works for her when she needs it to, for the most part, but at the same time this doesn't make her impervious to harm. And it's that balancing act that makes her the most suited for this type of narrative of cat and mouse.

Serafina, in contrast, doesn't have Laila's ignorance because she was never afforded it. She is very much genre-savvy. She knows the narrative she's in and the role she is intended to play very well. And by the time we meet her she is angry, simmering with resentment and unable to sand off the jagged edges of her prickly exterior. Serafina isn't the type of woman who endears men to her and she knows it, but more appropriate would be to say she doesn't care about it. She doesn't want to play these silly little games with them. She wants to talk to them frankly, man to man, and lay the cards flat on the table.

A lot of her tragedy is that she never tries to be a radical from the start and never truly wanted to. She isn't under any delusions that Cassius will ever love her and she doesn't want his love, but she will demand his respect. She approaches marriage with a businesslike air and is determined to get the best deal for her. She wants to make the system work for her, ramming herself constantly as a square peg into a round hole to no avail. It's only when it becomes clearer and clearer that the world as it is was not meant for her and would sooner see her dead than accept her that she decides to divest herself from it.

It's really that sense of alienation that gets her towards that point in THE SANGUINE SORCERESS and I don't think Laila would get there and what's more I don't think Laila has the sort of steely resolve to make the same choices Serafina does. Not in a way that's natural (as in, without the influence of magic). She'd probably just shatter instead.

#answered #laufire #teote lamentations