#feed me the Odysseus food

[alibonbonn]

Want to get into Epic the musical but I'm not a musical person HELP, HOW

#ali babble #feed me the Odysseus food

[k-nayee]

Wife to the Winds Epic: The Musical | ii

wc: 3.5k a/n: yeah I'm sorry y'all. I'm, a slow updater/editor. But I'm getting faster and better! Here's the animation for this part

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ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

recap

"You truly believe you can ensure my safe passage home? After everything?"

"With all my heart..."

|

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The salty tang of the sea clung to your hair as you followed Odysseus back to the creaking ships. The satchel against your hip jostled with every step, containing all of your life ever since the ambush of your village.

Midway through readying the ship for their long-awaited return, the men around fell silent as Odysseus approached.

Murmurs rippled through the crew as they watched their battle-scarred leader approach, a stranger by his side.

Reaching the center of the gathered crowd, Odysseus raised a hand for silence. A hush fell over, their gazes flitting between you and their captain.

"This one!" he boomed, aura carrying the authority of a seasoned leader, "is under my is under my protection. Do not lay hand upon her, show her the respect you may give to me."

Glances flicker towards you and stare intently, their faces etched with curiosity and a hint of something...more.

What it could be? You don't know, but you refuse to show it. Even riddled with fear and wary, you held your head high, posture radiating confidence.

That's when the whispers reached your ears: "A goddess, perhaps?" one muttered. "Sent to test us," another added, a hint of reverence lacing his voice.

'Wait...what?' You blink at this. Looking closer, you realize they are staring at you in awe, not lust.

You steal a peek at Odysseus, but his face remained impassive, any amusement he might've felt hidden.

'A goddess huh?' Your lips twitch, a snort of disbelief threating to escape your lips. Seems Odysseus initial shock towards you wasn't a one man reaction.

"Men!" attention is brought once more to the King of Ithaca.

"We have weathered storms. We have battled and sacrificed. Yet, victory lies within reach. Today," he brings a fist up to the heavens. "we begin our journey home!"

Cheers erupted from them, collective roars of relief and anticipation.

The rest of the day was a blur of activity: sails unfurled, oars readied for rowing—image of home ever the motivator.

Days bled into weeks, the endless blue horizon and rocking of the ship becoming your new normal.

The crew remained wary, interactions limited to curt greetings and exchanges. Your only solace came from occasional conversations with Odysseus and surprisingly, both Eurylochus and Polites.

Speaking of which, a tense discussion was brewing near the stern. Eurylochus, his weathered face etched with worry, was locked in a heated debate with the king.

"Six hundred mouths to feed," Eurylochus stressed, frustration coloring his voice, "and our supplies are dwindling! We may not make it far, we are running on fumes!"

Polites, ever the diplomat, step forth in hopes of calming the second in command. "We'll find a way, Eurylochus. Odysseus is a resourceful man—"

"Look!" Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by Odysseus himself, his gaze fixed on the sky.

You follow his line of sight, spotting a flurry of birds flying into the distance. Your brow raise at that, catching on to his proposal.  

"We watch where they go, and there we will hunt for food." Giving a firm nod, Eurylochus began giving new orders.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

Hours had pass, soon the Sun going down leaving the stars and moon as your only source of light.

"Captain!" Polities' cry breaks you out of your daily/night inventory checkup. "There in the distance: I see a light faintly glowing."

You quickly stuff everything back into your bag, rushing over to stand next to the Greek warrior and see for yourself.

He turns and gives you a bright grin, lightly bouncing on his feet. "Maybe it's a village lighting a fire? Who knows! They might even share some food."

"No." Odysseus shakes his head. "No, somethings not right. I see fire...but there's no smoke."

Eurylochus scoffed. "Let's raid the place and be done with it!" he barked, his hunger overriding caution.

Odysseus narrowed his eyes. "No," he countered, his voice firm. "There must be another way, one that doesn't involve bloodshed."

"Captain you can't be serious, we don't know of the danger's ahead! A—"

"Just!...just give me until sunrise," Taking a glance at the awaiting crew, his voice lower in attempt to quell their bloodthirst knowing just speaking of potential fighting would set them off. "And if we don't return, burn this place to the ground."

Odysseus turns to Polities, gesturing towards the approaching island. "Polites, gear up. We'll scout ahead."

"Yes sir!"

"I'm coming with you!"

The mortal king's head snapped towards you, frown creasing his brow. "Absolutely not."

Your voice rose in protest. "B-but I can help! I'm a fast learner. My skills..."

"There will be no debate," he states, voice leaving no room for argument. "The men are weary. They need their rest. You will stay and watch over little Ajax."

Anger welled in your chest as your teeth gritted. You storm off, the sting of rejection burning in your eyes.

Being reduced to babysitting(once again) felt like an insult to your abilities. You couldn't help but pout in disappointment as you watch the two sail step off the ship, crossing your arms with a glare.

The rest of the night crawled by, the time made longer from your simmering resentment.

It was sunrise when Odysseus and Polities returned, their faces were painted with apprehension.

"We've been told of a cave with food in the east!" he said "enough to last us on our journey back to Ithaca, even extra to spare."

You perk up at the news as men were called to arms. Pushing your way into the forming group, you stand before Odysseus who releases a heavy sigh upon seeing your wide grin. 

"Perhaps I can help assess the situation? My knowledge of—"

"We have enough help," he holds up a hand, silencing you with narrowed eyes. "You stay here with Ajax. Guard duty."

You bite your tongue to keep your anger from saying something disrespectful.

Taking a deep breath, you clasp your hands in a pleading motion. "Please. Just let me help. I-I can gather herbs, o-or even tend wounds..."

"There'll be no wounds," Odysseus says curtly. "We'll be in and out, quick and quiet."

And with that, he and his newly gathered group of men began venturing east in search of food.

Though your fists clenched in fury, you knew better than to disobey Odysseus directly. Instead, you waited, a plan forming in your mind.

It was then upon spotting the ever-cautious Ithacan Eurylochus right as he prepares to leave and catch up with the main group, an idea sparks.

You quickly approach him in determined strides. "Eurylochus, there isn't any proper medical supplies on board. I'm sure the men will gain injuries on their quest for food. And for that, I will need to go and get more herbs." 

Eurylochus barely glanced in your direction, more focused on ensuring his weapons are tied on correctly as he gives a dry chuckle. "Injuries huh? I'm sure medicine won't be needed for a little wound."

"You sure about that?" Offput at the chilly tone of your voice, he looks up only to be taken aback at the emptiness of your gaze. "Even the mightiest of warriors have fallen, crossing the River Styx from a mere scrape."

A tremor of unease ran through Eurylochus. He cleared his throat, the bravado gone

"Alright," he conceded, "but if anything goes wrong..."

"There won't be anything wrong!" you assured him quickly, smile bright and innocent as if you hadn't just traumatized this man.

Gesturing two nearby men to come over, Eurylochus gives you one final look. "Now, I'm trusting you to get what you need and get out. This is Lycus and Alexander; they will watch over you, so stay close. Understood?"

You bobbed your head enthusiastically, already launching into a flurry of excited instructions for your temporary bodyguards.

Eurylochus couldn't help but shake his head and sigh as he turned to leave. "Gods...Odysseus is gonna kill me..."

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

The moment your feet touched the shore, a thrill shot through you. The air hummed with an unfamiliar energy, and the vibrant foliage swaying in the gentle breeze.

Years of training under your mother's watchful eye kicked in: You recognized the landscape instantly—the lush vegetation, the specific types of trees—everything she taught echoing in your mind.

Unlike Odysseus and his men trampling path, or the impatient stomping of your guards, you carefully navigated the undergrowth with practiced grace; steps light and sure.

Awe filled you as you surveyed the diverse flora. You stopped every so often, meticulously collecting samples in your satchel, murmuring a silent thank you with each pluck.

A memory flickered from your childhood's countless foraging trips; your mother kneeling beside you in a sun-dappled meadow as her hand gently guides yours. "Plants are lives of their own...they are deserving of respect, as would any other being."

Too caught up in reminiscing the past, you miss it when your small group stumbled into a clearing.

It wasn't until you noticed the men behind you stopping themselves did you pay attention to your surroundings.

There, in the center of the area was a group of figures. Their faces were serene, eyes filled with an otherworldly light.

You couldn't help but look at them in awe, tales heard over the years could never measure up to the—

The sound of drawn weapons snap you out of it.

"W-wait!" you cry, darting forward and placing yourself between the armed men and the peaceful Lotus-eaters. "Lower your weapons! They mean no harm."

Lycus, a gruff soldier with a gnarly scar on his cheek to match, scoffs. "They could be a threat, best get rid of them while we can" he grumbles, grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.

Undeterred, you squared your shoulders and met his gaze.

"And as I said, they mean no harm. Pose no danger Look at them!" You gestured towards the Lotus-eaters, some of whom were staring at you with wide-eyes, others seemingly lost in a blissful daydream. "They wouldn't hurt a fly."

A tense silence hung in the air. The men exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of how to react.

 You pressed further, lowering your voice conspiratorially. "Besides. I'm not moving, and Odysseus wouldn't be too happy if I got hurt...now would he?"

The mere mention of the formidable leader caused the men to flinch, images of Odysseus' fearsome wrath flashing in their minds.

Lycus grunts in defeat. "Fine." Reluctantly sheathing his weapon, Alexander follows suit in a mixture of annoyance and grudging acceptance.

The Lotus people seemed captivated by the scene unfolding before them. Their gaze remained transfixed on you, faces filled with a strange mix of curiosity and wonder.

You turn and offer them a warm smile, disarming the Lotus-eaters completely. Their gaze remained fixed on you, captivated not just by your courage and kindness, but also by your beauty. 

Unlike the warriors who had come earlier, bristling with aggression, you approached them with an open heart of respect and curiosity.

And they knew this...from the moment you stepped into the forest, you were being watched after all.

So watchful of those who arrived on their island, the Lotus-eaters had seen everything: your reverence for the plant life, your gentle touch as you collected herbs—it spoke all that was needed.

They felt—no, they knew your heart held no malice. So that's why they had no problem answering any question you asked.

Meanwhile, the men assigned to guard you grow bored from the lack of conflict. They began to talk to each other, attention drifting away from their assigned duty.

After all, you seemed perfectly safe surrounded by these serene beings.

Encouraged by your gentle demeanor, one of the Lotus-eaters hesitantly approach you. He's tall, a crown of woven leaves sitting on top of his curly-hair.

Shy and gentle eyes meet yours. A tranquil smile is etched on his face as he holds out a strange bulbous fruit within his cupped palms, its surface pulsating with an otherworldly glow.

You recognize it instantly for its legendary intoxicating properties, accepting the Lotus fruit with a grateful smile.

Knowing the dangers of the Lotus and its ability to induce a blissful forgetfulness, you carefully stow it away in your satchel.

The Lotus-eaters trill in content, their voices all speaking at once in a wave of pitches.

Straining to hear what they were saying, you slowly make out some of the words drifting through the air.

"...giant..." one voice rasped, low and conspiratorial. "...big as a mountain..." another chimed in.

You pause, a flicker of unease taking root in your stomach. 'Did I just hear that right?...'

"Excuse me," you began, your voice dropping to a hushed tone, "but I couldn't help but overhear something about a... giant?"

They eagerly nod, their excited chatter confirming your worst suspicions.

The Lotus-eater from earlier locks eyes with you. You sense a flicker of concern flash across his glazed eye before murky sereness takes place once more.

He spoke, voice deep and whimsy. "The one-eyed giant in the east? He owns most of the sheep,  calls himself Polyphemus..."

'Giant...sheep...cave...east...that means—' when the pieces clicked in your mind, dread coiled in your gut. Odysseus and his men...trapped with a monstrous cyclops?

This was a disaster.  You needed to get away, and fast.

Glancing at the warriors, still lost in their own world of boredom, a devious plan began to form in your mind.

You turn to the group of Lotus-eaters and lower your voice further.

"Listen," you began, urgency lacing your tone, "there's something really really important I need to get from the cave in the east."

You give a nudge towards the lounging duo guards. "Those men who came with me wouldn't understand. Plus they're not very nice...they've been nothing but mean and unhelpful!"

The Lotus-eaters exchanged glances. Even with their peaceful demeanor they could sense your worry.

"What do you want us to do?" the crowned Lotus-eater asked, his voice laced with alarm.

A large grin stretched across your face.

"Pretend to kidnap me!" you declared, barely able to contain a giggle. "Take me to the cave. There, I can handle the rest."

Their faces broke into wide smiles. Now this was a game they understood.

A Lotus-eater with eyes the color of the sky, clapped her hands in delight. "Oh that sounds fun!"

Before you could even blink, half of the group erupted in a playful ruckus of shouts and laughter; hurling small rocks branched leaves at the warriors.

The men sputtered in confusion as nearby plants and vines creeped down and snatched their weapons, leaving them flabbergasted and unarmed.

"What in Hades—" Alexander exclaims, eyes wide with confusion as his sword was yanked from his grasp by an unseen force.

Now for your part.

Taking a deep breath, you let out the most dramatic, exaggerated scream you could muster. "Help! Oh no! They are taking me! What ever shall I dooooo!"

The distracted guards turn in time to see the other half of the Lotus-eaters scoop you off the ground. You kicked your legs playfully, still crying out in mock distress. "No! Oh no! Let me go! Someone, save meeeeeee!"

As Lotus-eaters began moving to the cave, you grimace when realizing a little too late of your lack of fighting back and reaction to being taken. 'I hope they didn't see right through me. Probably should've acted a little more afraid.'

"H-hey!" You turn back to see Lycus' stressfully looking in your direction as he tries to dodge the sticks and stones, "They're kidnapping her!"

"We must save her!" Alexander chimed in, his panicked filled voice reaching your ears before you disappear into the foliage.

You blink in disbelief at their gullibility. 'Nevermind...'

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

The further you were carried away from the clearing, the more the sounds of chaos faded into the background.

When you finally reached a safe distance, they gently set you down.

Once brushing off your clothes and looking around you immediately notice the Lotus-eaters brought you to the side of a mountain.

'Where's the cave...?' Confusion flickered across your at face as you try to understand why you where there instead.

Seeing your puzzled expression, the crowned-Lotus eater stepped forward with a gentle smile.

"We brought you to a secret passage," he explains softly, "It's a hidden way that leads to where the sheep are kept. The giant one may find you at the entrance, but this path is safe."

He gestures towards a cluster of branches and vines. Pushing them aside, he reveals a human-sized crack in the mountainside before letting dense foliage fall back over the cleverly concealed hole.

A warm smile spreading across your face at their concern and attempt for your safety. "Thank you!"

Leaning forward, you stand on your toes to place a soft kiss on the forehead of the crowned-Lotus eater who's been your main communicator of the time.

His cheeks flushed a deep scarlet red as he giggled, his companions joining in with flushed faces and shy smiles of their own.

"Good luck," he whimsically mutters, still blushing.

With a nod, you turned towards the secret passageway. Your heart pounds as you carefully push aside the branch and vines and squeezed through the opening.

The rough stone walls loomed around you as distant noises faintly echo in the background.

Air growing cooler and damper with each step as you ventured deeper inside, it wasn't until then did the faint sounds became clearer—multiple voices talking and sounds of sheep scuffling around. 

You pause at the edge of the cave, listening intently.

"Over here!" At the sound of Odysseus' commanding and calm voice, you immediately peek around the corner.

The first thing you're met with is an abundance of food and resources scattered all around: Jugs of wine stacked neatly against the walls, expensive cloths rich in color and texture, to even golden chalices and cups that gleamed in the torch-light cave.

And the sheep.

There were so many! So much, a few roaming ones were so close that you could feel the softness of their wool if you just reach out to tou—

Your nose scrunch up in disgust as a pungent wave of musk, grass, and a hint of manure hits you. 'Ugh...don't smell as cute as they look. That's for sure.'

Looking past the sheep, your body almost instinctively relaxed as you saw no signs of dead bodies or a murderous Cyclops.

Instead, you spotted the King of Ithaca standing alongside his 2nd of command and friend, onlooking as the other men got to work.

"Odysseus! Look at all this food...a-and all of these sheep!" Polites exclaims, you could even make out his bright smile all the way from here. "I can't believe it! This cave, it has all this for us to keep."

Eurylochus stood a few feet away, a begrudging nod of acceptance as he keep watch of the soldiers as they slaughter sheep and prepare to carry them to the ships. "I've gotta hand it to you both, this is quite the treat. More than enough sheep here to feed the entire fleet."

"Hmmm. I'm not sure. Looks too perfect, too good to be true." Odysseus seemed unconvinced. He shifted on his feet, glancing around as unease began seeping into his bones. "Why would the Lotus-eaters pass up on all this food?"

'Okay!' You take a step back, readying yourself for the potential scolding you most definitely were going to get for leaving the ship. 'You can do this...'

He sounds worried enough, so maybe he won't be too mad?

Taking a deep breath, you straighten you back and take a step out to greet the— 

"WHO ARE YOU?" A deep, rumbling voice echoes through the cave, making everyone freeze in their tracks.

Popping your head back around the corner, the blood drains from your face once you see the Cyclops.

Odysseus steps up with a confident smile. "Hey there! We're just travelers." He waves to the giant and motion to the others. "We come in peace."

The cyclops says nothing at first. He's monstrous, frame towering above so high you could barely make out his features—a single eye glowing menacingly in the darkness as it glared down at the Spartan warriors.

"YOU KILLED MY SHEEP. MY FAVORITE SHEEP. WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO DEAL A PAIN SO DEEP?"

You stumble back with a soft gasp and try to calm your racing heart. Your mind raced as you tried to figure out what to do.

"TIME TO DRINK—YOUR BLOOD OVER WHERE YOU STAND. YOUR LIFE NOW IS IN MY HAND."

Recalling the tales and stories of the cyclops' favored weapon (a massive club), you knew it was only a moment of time...

"BEFORE I'M DONE, YOU WILL LEARN THAT IT'S NOT SO FUN TO TAKE. YOU CAME TO MY HOME TO STEAL, BUT NOW YOU'LL BECOME MY MEAL."

Your hand flickered down to the weight in your satchel. With trembling fingers, you rummaged through it.

A Lotus fruit and bundle of dried Nepenthe and Poppy herbs are pulled out the bag, now in your hands. 'Please Gods....please. This has to work...'

"A TRADE, YOU SEE? TAKE FROM YOU LIKE YOU TOOK FROM ME."

#k-nayee traveler #epic the musical #epic the ocean saga #epic the musical fanfic #jorge rivera herrans #the ocean saga #epic the musical x reader #greek mythology #greek gods #the odyssey #the odyssey x reader #epic: the musical #epic the troy saga #epic the cyclops saga #reader-insert #troy #trojan war #musical fanfic

[kolektsiakomah]

IM EXPLODING list of things from the ocean saga from epic the musical i think abt A Lot

[this is a long fucking list]

the heartbeat accompanying odysseus' reminiscing of penelope n telemachus . im gonna cry [the horse and the infant]

THE FUCKIN SOUND PRODUCTION IN GENERAL ¿¿¿ THE WAR SOUNDS . ITS LIKR IM THERE [the horse and the infant]

violins intensifying when zeus mentions penelope n telemachus 😭😭😭😭😭😭 also thunderbolts and lightning very very frightening when zeus' verse comes on [the horse and the infant]

this . IM IN PAIN . this is sickening this is sickening this is sickening ive been crying abt this for 15 mins and counting. might be my father issues talking but the way telemachus probably doesnt even remember odysseus and knows abt his existence only thanks to penelope meanwhile this man is fighting for his LIFE every day to see them and hug them ☹☹☹☹☹☹ save me SAVE ODYSSEUS ↓ [just a man]

'i look into your eyes and i

think back to the son of mine.

you're as old as he was

when i left for war...

***

close your eyes

and spare yourself the view.

how could i hurt you?

i'm just a man

who's trying to go home

even after all the years

away from what i've known!

i'm just a man

who's fighting for his life,

deep down i would

trade the world

to see my son and wife!!'

PENELOPES WAITINGNGGGGG FOR HIKMMMMMM ¡¡¡¡¡¡ RUHHEGHHEHHGGGGG also eurylochus and polities are so bro . they were literally sworn bros stop it [full speed ahead]

the lil spooky sounds at the start of open arms ¿ so good . POLITIES I LOVE YOU YOU DIDNT DESERVE TO DIE SO SOON . he so was what odysseus needed at the time ↓ [open arms]

'a cave!!

you're saying there's a cave where we could feast?

and where do we sail to find this food-filled cave?

thank you :)'

athenas clock motive ¡¡¡¡¡ so good . the dont disappoint me was SO . OMINOUS . I LOVE QUICK THOUGHT MOMENTS [warrior of the mind]

THEYRE BROTHERS ¡¡¡¡¡¡ ↓ [polyphemus]

'over here!'

'look at all this food,

look at all these sheep!

i can't believe this cave has all this for us to keep.'

'i've gotta hand it you, pol,

this is quite the treat.

there are enough sheep here

to feed the entire fleet.'

POLYPHEMUS IS SO SCARY I LOVE IT . LIKE ACTUALLY SCARY i had actual goosebumps i gasped so hard when the whole boss battle started it was so full of suspension and tension and there was sm going on i was like ?@*@*#*×£@£€$£×*@*('(@(#(,"*"*' i cant fully express how this particular part makes me feel but when i was listening for the 1st time i was clenching my armchair so hard . deadass was on the verge of tears when polities got sniped and odysseus' men were screaming for their captain while polyphemus just slaughters them all . ALSO IM TELLING YOU ODYSSEUS LEARNED THOSE NEGOTIATION TACTICS FROM POLITIES [polyphemus + survive]

the complete silence after odysseus reveals his name . no triumphant music no cheers NOTHIJG just the creaking of the ship . and knowing that polyphemus is supposed to just Stare at the crew w his bloody gory eye and a smile ......... god fucking damn [remember them]

'this hurts athena.' in the script after odysseus snaps and goes YOURE ALONE ...... i mean go odysseus but ohhh . athena . ATHEJNNAAAAA [my goodbye]

JORGE TALKED ABT THIS BUT THE HARMONIES IN STORM ARE SO FUNKY ¡¡¡¡¡ AHHHHH STOOOoooOOOoooOOORM STOOOoooOOOoooOOORM THE LIKES OF WHICH WEVE NEVER SEEN BEFOREEEEE BRACE FOR THE STOOOoooOOOoooOOORM STOOOoooOOOoooOOORM WITH HOME SO CLOSE WE MUST BE PUSHING FORWARDDDD ‼️‼️‼️ [storm]

the absolute divine Island In The Sky melody in the middle of the goddamn storm made me levitate . i had goosebumps . polities would fucking love it [storm]

i was so sure for some reason that 'lead from the heart and see what starts' was a callback to open arms but it wasnt . hmm . WELL STILL . eurylochus literally says odysseus is the brother he could never do without oughhhhh ..... AND eurylochus is so real throughout this whole thingg no wonder hes the right hand man . [luck runs out]

aeolus' lil HAHAs are wonderful . i feel like shes def friends w hermes . also her song is such a bop ¿¿¿ got me grooving ¡¡¡¡ winions are so fjsjjsjwjwjaja theyre the definition of skrunkly . [keep your friends close]

this also broke me . any fucking interaction odysseus has w his kid and wife is sure to send me straight into my coffin . the way odysseus is pulled out from his bittersweet dream straight into new chaos and new problems . bro cant even communicate w his fam thru prophetic dreams hes so tired GIVE HIM PENELOPE N TELEMACHUS NOW ↓ [keep your friends close]

'the bag is still closed and i'm getting closer

to you.

penelopeee~

i can't wait to make some new memories...

telemachusss~

time for me to be the father i never was...

'just keep your eyes open...'

'why are my eyes and my heart and my soul

so heavy?..'

'just keep your eyes open.'

'i keep on trying to embrace you both,

why won't you let me?'

'just keep your eyes open!'

'so much has changed, but i'm the same,

yes, i'm the same!!'

'just keep your eyes open!!'

i lauf dramatic entrances poseidon is so extra ↓ [ruthlessness]

'OOOOOOOOOOOODYSSEUS OF ITHACA ‼️‼️‼️ do you know who i am.'

sea grandpa you absolute NUT ¡¡¡¡ HE SOUNDS SO GOOD ¿¿¿¿ AHHHHH the raspy voice fits him so well . the chanting at the start of the song made me chant too . POSEIDON POSEIDON POSEIDON POSEIDON POSEIDON POSEIDON POSEIDON . he tried to chill w the waves guys . [ruthlessness]

PPL SCREAMING FOR THEIR CAPTAIN ¡¡¡¡¡ it always gets me idfk why [ruthlessness]

HES SO SILLY W IT ↓ [ruthlessness]

'ALL I GOTTA DO IS OPEN THIS BAG!! :P'

#epic: the musical #epic: the ocean saga #ocean saga got me BAWLING MY EYES OUT ON THE 2ND GODDAMN SONG #also would you believe me if i said #that i heard luck runs out and polyphemus and just a man from rise edits for the 1st time #im going crazy #epic the musical #etm #etm: odysseus beloved #etm: telemachus beloved #etm: polities beloved #etm: penelope beloved #etm: eurylochus beloved #etm: athena beloved #etm: poseidon beloved #etm: aeolus beloved #etm: polyphemus beloved #🍋 blah blah

[hyunverse]

my love please buy real food you deserve it 🙏🏼 especially on your period !!! that sucks so much you don’t have any sushi near you :(( maybe one day you can get some stuff to make like make shift sushi ?! gahhhhh ur so cute i cry <//3 ur just as much an angel baby 💗💗💗 AND IM SO EXCITED FOR THATTTT !!!!!! angst is life rn bc i LIVE for it

it’s pretty much just a story about these 3 sirens who lured these sailors into their deaths by their singing. i just rly like the way it’s written and the “lessons” behind it. those kinds of stories w hidden lessons or messages are always my fave !! YESSSS that fits hyunjin so well omfg. poor baby just wants love 💔💔💔. we are the same hyune 🙏🏼

andddddddd i’m tearing up :((. UR TOO KIND TO ME I CANT HANDLE IT !!! you have no idea how much that means to me :((((((. i say the exact same things about you, you are so so kind and such a good person. i feel like you’re the kind of person that could be easily trusted and i value that sm in people. you always make my days so much better as well, i look forward to all your responses and to your writing bc you just get it 💗. so thank YOU for being here in the first place. ur genuinely one of the most special and kindest and talented and thoughtful and smart and beautiful ppl i’ve ever met on here in all my years on this app 🙏🏼. you rly are a gem <333 i could go on for days about how much i adore you !! no joke !!!!!!! i’m very glad i came across your acc bc you and your writing have helped me through so much already <33

ahhhh yes you’re a smart one for that !! (i am not at all and just hope i find stuff in person, when i pretty much never do 😁) the holidays in your culture are so cool i’m always so intrigued by them ^_^

OOO HOTPOT W HYUNE YESSSS PLSSSSS !!!!!! you cant tell me would not only cook, but also feed you food. he’d just be like no you’re not lifting a finger and i’m doing all the work bc ur my precious angel who shouldn’t and won’t lift a finger anytime she’s with me 😇😇😇. yes pls !!!!!!!! i think i might have to write some soon bc i’m in such a fluffy mood lately. my fave is angst to fluff so maybe even that ?? i love big fights that turn into crying cuddle sesh’s mhm mhm. that w minho would make my year so maybe i’ll start w that 🤔

- 🐈‍⬛ even cuter pics gahhh ur so sweet :(( hugs and kisses i hope you sleep well my love 💗💗💗 manifesting hyune to sneak into ur dreams tehehe

yaaaa good idea!!! i’m pretty sure sushi ingredients can be found around here ^__^ thank u thank u i nvr thought of that <3 me?? an angel?? THANK U HEHE <3 i don't deserve it but thank you, darling. i'm sorry it took a while to talk to u, i've been swamped in assignments, i barely have any time for myself </3 eid break starts next week though, so that's nice hehe. hopefully i'll be able to talk and write more then!!

just read the siren story, omg their names are so complicated HELP... greek names, man. odysseus encountered the sirens during his journey home, right? if i'm not mistaken hehe.

i'm not being too kind angel, it's purely the truth. i'm flattered that you think of me the same, i could never picture myself to be even half as sweet as you T__T we're the same then because i could a 100% talk abt u all day!!

hehe i'd gladly talk abt my culture with u!! wait till eid, i'll drop fit pics here <3!! also wait did i ever show u my oddinary pulls?? i dont rmmbr if i did aaaa

RIGHT RIGHT HE WUD!!! HE'S THE SIT TIGHT PRINCESS, I'LL DO THE WORK FOR U KIND OF BOYFRIEND!!! i want him saur bad... omg i feel like he'd mix u the dipping sauces and stuff... i'll start crying at the thought of this. TENSION THAT FADES TO FLUFF >>> EAT THAT UP!!! I EAT THAT UP FR!!!

i have been dreaming of hyune lately tbh... it's been <3333 my dreams be so good. anyway! hope ure having a good week so far my sayang!!! (it means love in malay!!)

kithkithkith <3

#rin's lovemail! #🐈‍⬛ anon 💌

[biggest-stupidhead]

Hyacinth

AN: This is an armin x reader I just chewed up and spat back out for you. Enjoy. ;)

Summary: You can learn a thing or two from Greek Mythology....

Word Count: 937

Warnings: mention of rape (medusa not reader, not graphic), death, Love epiphany trope. let me know if I missed anything. 

______

The story of Apollo and Hyakinthos is a tragic tale. Apollo adored the young prince, for he was the most handsome man in all of Sparta. He took great care to dote on the prince, teaching him to string bows, pluck lyres, and the secret of prophecies. He did everything right, loving and devoting himself to his lover Hyakinthos. But he was not the only god that favored the prince. Zephyrus, the god of the West Wind also loved Hyakinthos. The thing about gods is, that they don’t share. Apollo was throwing a discus along the shores of the river Eurotas, Zephyrus watched from the sky, jealous of Apollo.

 Out of spite, Zephyrus swept the discus into the clouds, and the ever-eager Hyakinthos gave chase. The discus fell from the sky and bounced once off of the earth, straight into Hyakinthos’ head. There was a loud crack, Apollo rushed to scoop Hyakinthos’ limp body from the ground. But it was too late, his skull had been split like an eggshell. Mortals have always been so fragile. Apollo, being the god of healing, tried every herb he knew, and even tried to feed Hyakinthos ambrosia, the food of the gods. All was in vain, Hyakinthos died that day in Apollo’s arms. Apollo mourned his lost lover, clutching onto his corpse as his blood stained the grass. 

Apollo blessed the prince’s blood, and from where Hyakinthos’ blood had seeped into the ground, Apollo created a flower, the hyacinth. On the soft fat petals of the flower, Apollo inscribed words of lamentation, “Al Al”, alas. 

_______

Armin found Greek myth fascinating, as well as floriography. He always was a romantic at heart, he knew you also appreciated these things. For your first date, you went to a museum, spending extra time with the red-painted vases and the cracked marble statues. Armin rambled on and on, even though you already knew the myths, you still listened to every word he uttered. 

“Achilles was so offended that he swore not to fight if he didn’t get his fair share.” Armin gestures towards the red vase carefully secured behind a glass case. Armin knew what it was like to want more than what was given. 

“Penelope waited for Odysseus for twenty long years, never once doubting her husband.” You knew what it was like to wait for someone. 

“Hermes stole Apollo’s prized cattle when he was just a few days old.” Armin knew how it felt to be robbed of something precious. 

“Aphrodite turned marble into flesh, granting the wish of the sculptor.” You wished that you could change your decision, it was too late. 

“Poseidon desired Medusa, he raped her in Athena’s temple where she was seeking sanctuary. Athena punished her for the act, turning her into a gorgon.” Armin would never force you, he would never take you against your will, no matter how badly he wanted you to himself. 

“Isn’t it interesting how these stories are so relevant to today?” You’re staring at a broken statue of Aphrodite, her body rolled into itself, stomach soft and malleable. 

“We’re creatures of habit.” Armin isn’t looking at the art, as far as he is concerned, you’re the most stunning thing in the room. You turn to face him, your fingertips ghosting over his sleeve. He feels the ring, it’s cold and heavy even through his jacket. 

“I’m nervous.” You whisper, he smiles, cerulean eyes soft and reassuring. 

“You will be okay.” He should have scooped you up and stolen you like Zephyrus stole Hyakinthos. He reaches into his breast pocket and produces a flower. A blue hyacinth, petals fat, round, and silky smooth. They reminded you of his eyes. You recognized the meaning behind the flower immediately. Sincerity, constancy. He would stay by your side, he would remain honest and true. 

“Armin.” Your voice cracked and he pulled you into a hug, his hands splayed across your lower back, and the lace of your dress burned his skin. 

“I don’t know if I can do this.” You whisper into his chest. You want him to sweep you away, take you far from here, you don’t care if you break a heart today. You only hope that it won’t be your own. 

“You can.” He rubs circles on your back and remorse sinks under your skin. This was his last chance, he blew it. You shouldn’t have expected more, he would never betray his best friend, he would never let you do something so reckless. 

“Eren’s waiting for us.” His face is so close to yours, if you kissed him now you would never be able to go back to Eren. If he kissed you now, he would never forgive himself. 

“Let’s go.” He turns away, your dress drags behind you as you walk through the vacant halls, the museum gallery now feels like a bad idea. Every painting and statue laughs at your failure to admit your feelings, every story and myth relishes in your shame. Armin had gotten you the venue at a discount since he is the curator here. You loved the museum, but you had come to the conclusion that you picked this place because Armin loved it. It should have been him marrying you. Not Eren. But there was no going back now. Armin pushes open the door to the main hall, and the music starts. 

You can feel the weight of the petals, the story of Hyakinthos was tragic. Hardly beautiful, this little flower is the only evidence of Apollo’s love for the prince. Alas, Armin could not turn his love for you into a flower. Alas.

#armin x reader #armin x y/n #armin x you #armin arlert #armin arlert imagine #armin arlert x reader #armin arlet x y/n #armin arlet x you #armin angst #angst #love epiphany #too little too late #greek mythology #armin aot #aot fandom #aot fanfiction #aot fanfic #armin fanfiction #armin arlet imagines

[maria-akira]

how you meet the ahs boys + their reaction while you're having a class - PART 1

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hey yall im back again 🧍🏻‍♀️ is this what you call a headcanon?? idk BAHAHSHHA. anyways i've had this idea in my mind for a while and i wanted to share it to yall, so i hope you guys like it 😌

these also have a little back story on how you guys meet !!

also, special mention to @tatestripedsweater for helping me give ideas with jimmy's part !! thank you so much mwah 🥺❤

warnings: none! just pure fluff <3

please excuse any errors !

—♡—

~♡ TATE LANGDON:

before the pandemic, you and your family have moved into the murder house.

the house gave your family a very odd vibe, but nonetheless all of you had to bear with it because it was sold for a cheap price.

but when the pandemic arrived the country, you were stuck at home 24/7. thus, classes were online.

you met tate because of your father. tate was one of his patients and the both of you grew close.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

tate would randomly barge in your room while having a class and you would jump out of shock.

"Jesus, Tate. Stop scaring me like that!"

tate would giggle and lay on your bed, observing the lesson that the teacher rambled about.

while you're writing notes, he would stand up and take a chair from some part of your room and sit beside you.

knowing that tate is clingy, you would warn him not to bug you and behave while you listened in class.

of course, he doesn't listen and he would place his head on your shoulder and eventually would cuddle you.

"Taaate, please let me focus."

luckily, you always keep your camera off.

"Mmm, no. I enjoy bugging you."

~♡ KIT WALKER:

one time, you were driving to school on your own and you were almost running out of gas.

luckily, you saw a gas station nearby and decided to get a fill before heading to school. and there, you met kit.

when you first laid your eyes on kit, you thought that he was the prettiest man ever. you couldn't let this chance slip, thus, you exchanged numbers with him.

you talked all day and night, the both of you were so inlove with each other and you finally decided to introduce him to your parents.

your parents loved him and you were so, so happy.

but when the pandemic came, it affected your relationship with kit.

since all schools and unis were closed down, everything went online.

when kit stayed over, he couldn't spend a lot of time with you because you had to attend classes early in the morning, till afternoon.

"Can you stay in bed with me for a little bit, darling?"

unfortunately, you woke up late that day and you missed 10 minutes of your first class. and just like that, you were stuck to your desk until afternoon.

"Kit baby, I'm sorry. I'm late for my first class. Maybe later, okay?"

as much as kit hated this whole online class thing, he would always find a way to cheer you up.

thus, he would cook you breakfast and bring it over to your room.

"C'mere, I'll feed you while you listen and write down notes."

~♡ KYLE SPENCER (PRE DEATH AND POST DEATH) :

PRE DEATH:

madison, your friend, had bugged you all week to go with her to this college frat party near your house.

you weren't the party type. you loved staying at home, watching netflix or reading some sort of fan fiction on wattpad.

but you hated being single. so, this was your chance to actually get a boyfriend.

when you arrived at the party, you immediately hated it. everything was so loud and everyone was drinking, it was definitely a new sight for you.

you were sitting on a couch that was in the balcony, with a red cup that was filled with punch. you loved being away from the commotion.

this is where you met kyle, it was love at first sight. the both of you had so much in common and you thought that he was the man of your dreams.

you exchanged snapchats and from there, you were partners-in-crime.

you and kyle had stopped going to parties ever since the pandemic arrived, which means you got to see each other less.

since the both of you were students, both of your classes went online.

one time, kyle had no classes for a day and he decided to surprise you.

that day, you were having an online presentation. both your camera and microphone were on.

"Rene Descartes was the Father of Modern Philosophy—"

as you were presenting the slide show, you were cut off by kyle's presence infront of your desk.

"I brought you food, baby!"

you would shush him and suddenly turn off your mic.

"I'm so sorry, Miss. My boyfriend arrived and I—"

kyle would go beside you and kiss you on your cheek, your classmates and teacher cooing over it.

"Miss, you better give my girlfriend a good grade."

POST DEATH:

*pretend that he survived the bus accident and had a coma, because we arent involving witchcraft here*

kyle and his fraternity were on a bus that was going to some college event at school.

on the way there, you guys snapped each other and his friends would talk to you as well.

unfortunately, they got in an accident and the bus was flipped over.

a few students, including kyle, survived the accident.

when you heard this news, you cried your heart out and you didnt talk to anyone in your family.

you and your family visited the hospital and you rushed to kyle's room, it broke your heart to see tubes in him, with machines that beeped like there was no tomorrow.

when the doctor said that kyle was in a coma, your heart sank in the deepest part of your body.

this made you stay 24/7 with him until he was discharged.

when he was discharged from the hospital, he was not his usual self. the bubbly, energetic kyle was gone. instead, he was so confused with everything.

kyle's mom made him stay with you until he got his memory back, and you were more than glad to help.

but this took a toll on your studies because your classes were online due to a pandemic.

everyday in class, you would let kyle sit beside you and let him observe what you were doing.

"We're in Science class, Kyle. You were really good in Science, you helped me alot with my homeworks."

most of the time, you would help kyle develop his speech and his writing. but it was difficult for you.

"S-Sci... S-Sci-en.. ce?"

"Yes, Kyle! Good job, now one more time."

~♡ JIMMY DARLING:

ever since you were a kid, you loved going to carnivals, your parents would always bring you there every weekend.

there were carnivals almost everywhere, and your family brought you to all of them.

to you, each carnival was unique. the clowns and magicians in each carnival had different tricks up their sleeve.

but as you grew up, these carnivals slowly went out of business. except for one, which was elsa's cabinet of curiosities.

you decided to visit it one day just for a trip down memory lane, you never really had expectations for this place.

when you arrived there, there were a few people that were seated.

the show started and it instantly made you smile, they reminded you of your younger days. oh how you wished to be a child again.

you watched through a few acts, and the last act was a man named jimmy darling

when he came on stage, you locked eyes with him. there was something about him that really struck you.

after the performance ended, jimmy ran over to you and got your number. from there, you always talked and you would visit him regularly.

the regular visits stopped when the pandemic struck the country, forcing entertainment establishments, schools and unis to close down.

for the mean time, all your classes went online. you told jimmy that he could stay with you until things went back to normal.

on an early tuesday morning, you were in english class. jimmy was with your parents preparing breakfast, and you were falling asleep while your teacher discussed about the odyssey.

unlike tate, jimmy would always knock on your door. as his mom always taught, never enter anyone's room without knocking.

jimmy would giggle at your sleeping sight, your head lowered and your hair messed up.

"Hey, sweetheart, wake up! You're in class."

jimmy's timing was perfect. as he woke you up, you were called by the teacher.

"Miss Y/N, Do you think Odysseus was loyal to his wife?"

obviously, you panicked. but jimmy was there to save you. since jimmy was fond of reading, he finished the book and he whispered the answer to you before you could turn on your mic.

"No, Ma'am. Odysseus had an affair with Calypso and Circe."

once you got your teacher's approval, you turned off your microphone and let out a sigh of relief.

"You're lucky that I'm here to help you."

jimmy would joke and you would jump up to him, tackling him into a hug.

"I'm always lucky to have you, baby."

~♡ DANDY MOTT

at a young age, you were exposed to different types of fabrics. denim, silk, corduroy, neoprene. they name it, you've probably seen it.

your mother worked as a fashion designer. she managed to open a shop in the city and it was a great success for you and your family.

your mother has styled famous models. because of this, the shop was promoted and broadcasted all over the country. one day when you came from school, you saw a long line outside the shop.

that day, the staff count was low. there were only 5 employees instead of 10. you didn't exactly know why, so you decided to help.

after what felt like several hours, the long line finally dissolved into 2 customers, which was a mother and her son. they looked through the shop and the mother instantly loved everything.

her son, on the other hand, was trying on this lilac tux that your mother made.

you assisted her son and when you locked eyes, the both of you smiled. you entertained him throughout his shopping spree and the both of you never broke eye contact.

this was how you met dandy. he made the first move by getting your number, and of course you gave it back.

from there, the both of you talked day and night, even when you were in school.

since dandy's mother, gloria, loved your mother's shop so much, she would invite you and your mother regularly to her mansion.

gloria and your mother got along very well, and it was like gloria was your second mother.

so when your mother went to paris for a fashion show, she let you stay in gloria's mansion until she came back.

but to your dismay, your mother was not able to come back due to a pandemic that was all over the world. flights, establishments, and schools closed down.

of course you were sad, but you didn't worry so much because gloria treated you like her real daughter.

classes were online and you were forced to attend them everyday in the shared room you had with dandy.

since you had to get ready for class early in the morning, you would quietly get out of bed because dandy was sometimes a light sleeper.

it was around 8am and you were in math class. in your school, cameras were required to be turned on at all times. you thought this was a shit rule, but you had no choice to comply.

you were drawing some circles with a compass for an example that was being discussed by your teacher, when all of a sudden dandy was beside you.

"Dandy, sweetie, what are you doing up so early? Go back to sleep.."

dandy would pout at the lack of attention that you were giving him. since he loved holding your hand, you let him hold your other hand that you didn't use for writing.

"You're doing Math instead of cuddling with me!"

—♡—

i'm actually super proud of this omg !! i hope yall enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🥺❤

—♡—

#ahs 8 #ahs 9 #ahs freakshow #jimmy darling imagines #jimmy darling x reader #dandy mott x reader #dandy mott #jimmy darling #tate langdon #tate langdon imagines #tate langdon x reader #kyle spencer x reader #kyle spencer #kyle spencer imagines #kit walker #kit walker x reader #kit walker imagines #ahs murder house #murder house #ahs asylum #freakshow #ahs coven #american horror story

[coloricioso]

Replying to this post @alatismeni-theitsa

Sorry I don't reblog from the actual one, but it is getting too long :(

I will reiterate which is the most important thing to me: Greek gods do not eat food.

1) There is no single myth where a Greek god eats food. The ooonly one could be the story of Tantalus cutting his son Pelops into pieces and serving it in a feast to the gods, supposedly Demeter was so distracted by her mourning for Persephone she that she ate a piece of meat, the shoulder. But that is not told by Hesiod, Homer o similar authors, but a later retelling, and it's still an abnormal context since Demeter's grief. Also that story does contradict Demeter's fasting, so this does not count for me.

Eating and needing food is what distinguishes mortals from the gods. That is one of the deep lessons from Prometheus' myth when he tries to trick Zeus. He takes the bones and wraps them in fat and gives them to Zeus, while keeping the meat for himself and humans, but that action seals Zeus' victory because it reveals humans true nature VS the divine nature which needs no food to live eternally.

What would be the logical explanation for that? Persephone is not a human. The fact she eats food contradicts entire Greek myth logic. Why does that happen in this myth only? Did Ancient Greeks copy this myth from another culture where gods do eat food and forgot their gods only eat ambrosia?

2) Second, Persephone is not a human. So despite of human suffering and real experiences, she is not a human. She is a goddess, as mighty and as powerful as any other god in the pantheon. And she is daughter to Zeus, king of the gods, and Demeter, great goddess herself. Why would Persephone be portrayed in such a poor way? Weak, careless, abscent minded and too ignorant of divine rules? If you take the abduction and the pomegranate feeding literally and ignore its symbolic religious context, then it translates into Persephone being weak enough to be carried away, weak enough to be forced to eat, ignorant enough to ignore what non-god food means (so suiting for a goddess related to earth ferility???).

To think of her like that would be disrespectful to her divine nature. If Ancient Greek philosophers spoke of her as wise and she, herself, and her marriage, was worshipped, why am I supposed to stick to an interpretation where she is shown as nothing but a human (not a goddess in any sense) and not only a human, but a defenseless and ignorant one?

3) Then, again, because of aidos women are asked to be modest. Pausanias tells a story where Icarius complains that Penelope can't leave him and then Odysseus asks Penelope what does she want, if to stay with her father or to go with him as his wife. Penelope's answer is to cover her face with her veil. She does not speak (it would be shameful for her to do so, to say out loud that she prefers her husband rather than her father, pretty much like Persephone can't tell Demeter she doesn't want to stay all the time with her). In many of vase paintings where Hades is abducting Persephone, she covers is doing the veil gesture.

4) Also, most of the scholar comments go in this way: In 372 (“ἔδωκε φαγεῖν”) nothing is said of the compulsion on which Persephone here insists. Plainly Hades did not use actual force or compulsion of any kind, especially as Hermes was present.

I know bia involves violence, but here are examples of unreliable narrators: Demeter herself in the Hymn, she tells Eleusinian people an entire made up story of how she was abducted by pirates (and if I don't recall wrong she uses same expression as Persephone, speaking of bia). Another unreliable narrator is Odysseus, he lies and makes up stories a lot (he even does that to Athena who laughes for that). I've read scholars who compare Persephone to Odysseus for the made up speeches. So again, the fact Persephone contradicts the narrator either means, 1) she did not want to eat (does not makes sense for all what I said before), 2) she did not know the consequence of eating (meaning she is basically a thoughtless goddess, why do we even praise her???), 3) she did want but she can't admit it because it would be shameful or it would upset her mother (and this is what most of scholars agree).

5) So, sorry, I have a big trouble trying to understand why Persephone would have been depicted as a goddess who is so weak and ignorant, when the religious cult is the opposite. And please, I am not victim blaming because again, Persephone is a goddess, not a human. In no way this analysis can be applied to actual victims of violence, please.

If the hymn is supossed to be readen this way, then I will agree with the Ancient Greek philosophers who criticized myths for being disrespectful to deities nature.

And even if she was tricked and forced to go back to the underworld every year, which would represent most of non wanted ancient marriages, then I fail to see why only Persephone's marriage is an issue meanwhile all the other couples in Greek mythology are ok.

If in the Hymn to Demeter, Persephone is supposed to have a complete "human nature" all the time, first symbolizing the human soul journey (abduction) and then human reality (arranged or forced marriage) the thing is that the other myths or religious cult do not speak of bad fate, hostility or an awful marriage. Even if Persephone was tricked, the Hymn basically says "mothers, don't worry, your daughter will still be happy; you woman, don't worry, you'll still get honros and have a good husband". In no way the Hymn implies "be sad because you're spending the rest of your life in disgrace". Unlike Medea's speech where she complains on women's bad fate.

Zeus and Hera are an odd example of a willingly married couple (Hera was not given away by her father) and mythology portrays their marriage terribly (unlike religious cult where it was a sacred union). Not even Odysseus and Penelope were willingly married (it was an arranged marriage, pretty much a prize for Odysseus) and yet they are one of the greatest loving marriages from Ancient Greek mythology. So in any way, I don't understand what is the whole issue with Persephone. People make such a big fuss about a 2000 year old (or even older) myth -that was part of an ancient religion- but they seem fine with MODERN FICTION (having no religious or symbolic background) like LO that has real moral issues we should be addressing.

#long post #persephone #hades and persephone

[osakaso5]

Everyday Splendor in Olympus Town: Season 2

Episode 5: Hercules

Episode Index

Hercules: ...There you are...! Odysseus!

Hercules: Don't think you'll get away from me... Or that you can just sit there eating dinner!

Odysseus: Ugh... Not you again...

Hestia: Welcome, Hercules. You must be tired from work. Sit down and have something to eat.  

Hercules: Ah... I-I guess I'll have potato salad and some baked potatoes with butter. ...Since apparently you only serve potatoes...

Hestia: Coming right up. Take a seat.

Odysseus: ...Do you have to sit next to me..? There's plenty of free  seats here, and I was hoping to have  a quiet meal by myself.

Hercules: Hmph, I'm not letting you escape! Where did you hide "How to Become the Strongest Warrior for Dummies"!?

Hercules: My investigations lead me to believe that you've snatched it from under my nose. What a disgrace of a police officer you are.

Hercules: You're hereby under arrest for fraud, deception, and avoiding the law.

Odysseus: Wait, hold on just a second! I'm the victim here, they forced me to go digging.

Hercules: Your last minute excuses won't work on me.

Hestia: Here are your potato salad and baked potatoes, please enjoy.

Hercules: Ooh, they look delicious. Thank you.

Hestia: Hehe, no problem.

Hestia: Didn't you hear from Zeus, by the way?

Hercules: ...I know he, Dionysus, and Odysseus went looking for the treasure, only to come out empty- handed.

Hercules: But there has to be more to the story. I refuse to believe that nothing was buried at that shrine!

Hestia: They did find something, but... From what I heard, it wasn't what you're looking for, Hercules.

Hercules: What do you mean..? What else could they have been digging up?

Odysseus: ...It was a time capsule Masters Zeus and Poseidon buried.

Hercules: ...Huh..? A time capsule..?

Hestia: Ahaha, I bet you weren't expecting that. It was such a surprise that even I burst out laughing.

Hestia: Though I did remember hearing about the treasure before.

Hercules: S-so then... "How to Become the Strongest Warrior for Dummies" is...

Odysseus: Not a real book.

Odysseus: Apparently the books were just journals they kept while on vacation in the mortal world.

Odysseus: And they were drunk while writing them.

Hercules: ...You've gotta be kidding me...

Odysseus: In other words, you're accusing me of crimes that don't exist.

Hercules: ...Ugh... As much as I don't want to believe it, that does  sound like something Master Zeus would do...

Hercules: How did it take him until the capsule has been dug up to realize what it was? He's had people running around on a fool's errand.

Odysseus: That's typical Master Zeus, if you ask me...

Odysseus: I bet the combat instructions Master Poseidon wrote wouldn't have been good for anything, either...

Hestia: Heh, probably not... His powers are one-of-a-kind, after all.

Hercules: Right. He cheats in so many ways.

Odysseus: I'd never heard of gold being buried in Olympus Town, so this whole thing sounded fishy to me right from the start.

Hercules: Hmph! Don't act all high and mighty just because you could see through all the lies!

Odysseus: Sure, whatever...

Odysseus: I think you're plenty strong, even without outside help.

Odysseus: And if you stopped causing so much wanton destruction when you arrest people, you'd probably have higher numbers than me, anyway.

Hercules: Are you talking smack?

Odysseus: No, and I don't know how you interpreted it that way...

Hestia: Heh, you two are such good friends.

Hercules & Odysseus: No, we're not!

Hestia: Ahaha, that came out in perfect unison.

Hestia: Since you've both been working so hard, let me treat you to some of my newest potato creations.

Odysseus: Are you sure!?

Hestia: I made a ton, so eat as much as you'd like.

Hestia: Like potato soup or anchovy potatoes. Then there's the cheesed potatoes, hot and spicy potato stew, and potato risotto. For dessert, there's potato pie...

Odysseus: Uh... Hestia... Don't you think that's a little too much food..?

Hercules: And it's all potatoes...

Hestia: Ahaha, sorry about that.

Hestia: Since he didn't find any gold, Dionysus offered to peel potatoes for me instead.

Hestia: And Zeus helped me get rid of all the potato sprouts, probably due to all his boasting.

Odysseus: That drunkard offered to peel potatoes for you..?

Hercules: And Master Zeus gave you a hand with the sprouts..?

Hestia: Yep. They worked hard at it, too. They actually told me that I should feed all these dishes to you two, if you happened to come over.

Hestia: They asked me not to tell you, but I just wanted to let you know they did that for you.

Hercules: ...Geez, they could've just told us.

Odysseus: I don't think you're one to criticize others for not being upfront with their feelings.

Hercules: And what about you? You've always got this cool and collected facade on.

Hercules: You should take my challenges seriously for once!

Hercules: ...And I've got just the contest in mind. Let's see which one of us can eat more food.

Odysseus: Ugh, not another one of your contests...

Hercules: Hestia, would you mind helping out?

Hestia: Ahaha, you really are good friends.

Odysseus: No, we're really not...

Hercules: Giving up before we've even started, are you?

Odysseus: No way! I LIVE for Hestia's cooking.

Hercules: Hmph, fine then. Hestia, bring out all the food you can!

Hercules: Brag while you still can. I'll prove that I'm the strongest, even without instruction manuals!

#idolish7 #olympus town #translation #event story

[jflashandclash]

Tales From Mount Othrys

Jack: Silenced II

           When he thought about rolling over to see Flynn making her bed, Jack smiled. Her muscular figure would be silhouetted by the rays of dawn coming through the window, a tan blur against the black obsidian of Camp Othrys.

She walked around in her underwear in the morning. Luke said it was invitation. Jack knew it wasn’t. It was a marker of tested trust, Flynn’s willingness to be vulnerable knowing that Jack wouldn’t make the first move or ogle her. At least, that’s what Prometheus said when Jack brought up his concerns.

But, when Jack rolled over, there was no Camp Othrys, no line of Flynn’s weapons against the wall. His electric bass guitars were gone, as were all of his sketches of the Orpheus Metal band posters. (They were terrible—Pax had made better ones.)

A harp and loom lingered against one cavernous wall. There was a built-in fireplace roaring, providing some respite to the chilly air. The ceiling was crystalline, reflecting purple, emerald, and blue against the white bedding. Someone else’s bedding. It smelled like someone else.

Jack sat up, shoving the feather pillow away. He clutched at his hair, finding that someone must have trimmed it. He choked at the gap in his memory.

They had fought the Romans—an aerial attack against the Princess Andromeda. Jack was snatched by an eagle. Screams. Flynn’s roar of fury. He remembered falling in the water…

The clothing he wore was white, baggy, and cotton, too much like his hospital garb from the first time Steve, his step dad, institutionalized him. This prank has gone too far, Steve had said, angry Jack would dare scare Ashton and Shelby by claiming the walls were screaming. Jack’s skinny jeans and band shirt were gone. What if all of it had been a hallucination: Camp Othrys, the Princess Andromeda, the monsters, the gods.

Jack choked back a sob. This. This wasn’t the hospital. Jack dug his nails into his pockets, the material too thin and delicate to keep him from clawing his legs in a panic. No Mr. Sunny. His pillbox, and all of his medication, was gone. How much time did he have? He knew the withdraw symptoms: vomiting, hypersalivation, diarrhea, diaphoresis, insomnia, agitation, and rapid psychosis.

He had woken in a cold sweat, but a cold sweat didn’t always mean withdraws.

Rapid psychosis. Jack’s heartbeat thudded in his head. This felt real, but everything always felt real—that was the problem. There was a distant song—lovely and eerie, just abstract enough to question its authenticity.

His stomach churned with ignored hunger. A platter with tropical fruits, bread, and a mug of water lay beside him. Jack knew enough about mythology and fairy tales not to eat something unless you were directly invited and only if you knew that the owner of the food wasn’t a witch with powers to trap you eternally.

She must have undressed me. That girl with the caramel braid. Unease squeezed away any hunger: a stranger had taken off his boxers while he slept.

When Jack got to his feet, his legs trembled and his head pounded. He slipped a blanket around his shoulders. As he wandered towards the cave entrance, he passed a shelf filled with dried and drying plants that smelled of Alabaster’s laboratory. Several ancient tomes lined a desk beside it. One was open to a page illustrating human anatomy with words in… Minoan, if Jack had to guess. Some of the titans at Camp Othrys wrote in the dead language. Jack turned the page and flinched. There was an inked sketch of him, sleeping. He turned the page back.

Was it him? Or had his brain filled in the gaps?

It’s starting. Monsters. He was going to start to see and hear monsters again. Not the real ones. Not the friendly ones on his ship. Not the ones that came to his monster seminars about how demigods were friends, not food. Innocuous, innocent things would become sinister and comfort would lilt to paranoia.

         But there were no monsters outside the cave. Just her.

         The sun’s amber and coral hues broke against the ocean’s horizon, bleeding into the water and clouds to unite them into zigzagging, heavenly passageways. Crepuscular rays danced through their holes, making this girl’s hair glow as though one more constant in the coming of dawn. She stood, singing, at the edge of a beach. Her bare feet made lumps in the sand, compounding with each flush of the tide; if she forgot herself for long enough, the earth would reclaim her.

         Jack swallowed. In the oncoming lighting, he could see the silhouettes of flowers—so many flowers. There was a maze of roses, larkspur, delphinium, lilies, hollyhock, and sunflowers, all reaching towards the sky and curling about with a careless grace that looked both wild and tamed in their pattern. Some whisper cooed that these flowers didn’t belong together, making Jack fear they’d bow and bury him if he dared to walk through.

         But he needed to walk through to get to the beach, to follow the siren call. He hesitantly passed the first rose bush, expecting it to jump into Alice in Wonderland levels of criticism.

         “Jack!”

         The call made him jump away from the roses. After an exhale, he realized it was the girl, not chatty flora. He rushed past the rest of the flowers.

         “You’re already up,” she said when he reached her. The comment sounded more surprised than the disappointment he’d detected last time. Her white, sleeveless dress and braid fluttered in an ocean breeze. The effect made Jack’s blanket feel like an epic cloak.

         He gestured to his clothing and back towards the cave. “Thank you for the hospitality, Ms…” He trailed off, frowning. His throat felt worn. He’d have to do his warm up exercises. At least there was plenty of salt water to gargle. “How did you know my name?”

         “Ms?” she echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Oh,” she giggled, “You talk in your sleep.”

         Jack didn’t—or no one ever said he had before. Pax (and Axel under the guise of worrying over Pax) had slept in his room when they’d had particularly bad nightmares. That sounded like something Pax would abuse, even subconsciously, and would result in Flynn taping both their mouths shut.  Morpheus liked to keep a strict record of who talked in their sleep, so he could play with demigods that slept through Alabaster’s lectures.

         Jack swallowed. “Um, Ms., I hate to be a bother, but I had a pill box in my pocket—”

         “I disposed of it. I don’t allow plastics on my island and the contents had been soiled by the ocean.”

         Jack choked. That was the first gift Flynn gave Jack—the first time he realized all his ballads, poems, and offers to carry her books hadn’t just annoyed her. She and Phil had been teaching him to carry it on his own, a marker of independence that made him proud, even if Flynn double checked every hour to assure he hadn’t overdosed on anything. Most people didn’t trust him with important things, but she and Phil were entrusting him with that.

         “You won’t need them here. Ogygia itself can soothe you—”

         Trembles shook from Jack’s core to his fingertips. “Ogygia,” he whispered, taking a step backwards. The beautiful horizon tilted. His hair felt course as he tugged at it. “You’re—you’re Calypso the Seductress, detainer of men—”

         Before the words left his mouth, he turned to flee. The sand slipped under his bare feet. The blanket tumbled from his shoulders, disappearing with the sight of that horizon. Jack ran towards the retreating darkness of the island, away from the sunlight that sparkled in that glowing hair.

Others at camp found Homer and Hesiod’s work boring, but he’d put the Odyssey to proper music and knew most verses. He knew of this nymph-goddess.

Each step made Jack’s body feel leaden. His panic numbed with an encroaching exhaustion. He shouldn’t be this tired—he knew his body. He healed fast. This weakness—how could she—did she—?

Jack’s legs failed him while racing through the gardens. Rose canes loomed over him and curled around in a canopy of thorns. In their sharp and cloy embrace, consciousness hazed to nightmares.[1]

 ***

Pain pinched Jack’s cheek. He jerked away, expecting to see Pax with a super glue tube and fake mustache to make Jack “look more esteemed.” That prank had not gone well. Turns out, Flynn did not like Jack with a Western train-robber look and she did not like how the fake black hairs tickled when he nuzzled her.

Instead of Pax, he saw Calypso with a small bandage that she must have ripped off his face. There was a tiny, brownish-red scab on the other side.

Jack sat up and jerked back from her. They were back in the cavern, on the mattress made of white fluffiness. She had a basket of tiny bandages at her side.

“Calypso the—”

“Don’t.” She placed her hands on her hips, glaring. Considering how she knelt beside him, her regale stature was impressive. “I get messages from the gods, you know. They call you Jak-Jak the Scourge of New Rome, Jak-Jak the Plague Bringer, Jak-Jak the Corrupted Spawn of Apollo. Need I go one? Shall I assume you’re here to plague me? To give me cancerous sores? Shall I make assumptions of your person off hearsay, like you have done with me? How long ago did Homer and Hesiod write that libel about Odysseus?”

Her eyes watered.

Jack frowned. Had his name really traveled that far?

A tear streaked down her perfect cheek: a raindrop down the smoothness of a statue. Rumor had it that Pax could cry on command. What if she could too?

Or, what if she was a good Samaritan helping out, decried, like many women had been, by the histories written by men?

Jack exhaled, telling himself to relax. He tried counting, the way Axel told him to when he got confused. Axel would be furious at him for this kind of assumption, for upsetting a mythological creature based off hearsay. There were lots of fabled monsters at Camp Othrys that were friendly (when well fed. Jack had to make rules about demigods being in the dining hall during monster feed time).

“I—I’m sorry, Ms. Calypso,” he said, looking down at his hands. There were more little bandages tapped across his forearms. From a quick examination of his skin, the thorn pricks had already healed and scarred over. The base guitar chord was still braided in a bracelet around his wrist. He touched the scars there, finding ridges where he’d healed Lucille and Lou Ellen’s skin by peeling off his own. That new kid, Ethan Naka—something, had joked that Jack’s arms would start to match Flynn’s burned face. Jack gave him a case of chicken pox for that. No one was allowed to talk about Flynn’s face, except Flynn herself and their son, Pax. Pax, only because he was a sweet little munchin and the only person other than Jack that could make Flynn blush.

Calypso gently touched his chin. Jack didn’t flinch back this time. “It is alright.” And, she ripped off another bandage. Some hair came away with it, making Jack wince.

Everything seemed… clearer. Sharper than it had in years. His thoughts raced with a hyper clarity that scared him. “What else was wrong from the myth?” he asked, observing the cavern in a new light. The cool breeze that rustled the white curtains was refreshing, intermixing the gentle sweetness of flowers with the herbs in her cabinet. He frowned at the tomes there. Had he imagined the drawing of him?

She dabbed a cool, wet cloth against his stinging skin. Sadness lined her eyes. She hesitated. “I don’t know what you know of this place, brave one. The island is a phantom island, my imprisonment for helping my father in the first Titan War. Time does not have the same meaning here as it does elsewhere.”

Jack glanced past her, to the roaring fire in the wall’s inset fireplace. There was a pot over the flames, boiling furiously. He swallowed, despite her earlier assurance. “You’re not going to… eat me, are you?”

“Eat you, my sweet?” Her eyes seemed to dance.

“Well, that response reaffirmed every fairytale fear that I had.”

Her laugh was melodious. She must have thought that had been a joke. It was not. “I’m afraid we mostly eat vegetables and fish here. There’s a scarcity of cannibalism on the island.”

Jack nodded, somewhat comforted. That hadn’t been in the original tale, but you never knew with Greek mythology. He didn’t want to be rude (again) but, if this was the Calypso, he had an important question. “How do I get off the island?”

“Jack, a terrible fate awaits you off the island. I cannot, in good consciousness, allow you to leave until you are healed, well-rested, and well.” She gestured to his lanky frame.

Once again, Jack considered pointing out that this was his natural state of stick-figure Jackness. He let the offense slide. In the Odyssey, she said something similar to Odysseus. Staying here would worry Flynn, Luke, and the boys, but he had no way off the island unless he lucked into some abandoned boat or cartoon-barrel. In the Odyssey, Calypso gave Odysseus a bronze axe so he could build his own raft. Jack doubted he could lift an axe over his head without falling backwards let alone build a raft with it. Greeks were master ship-builders. Jack was a master builder of group-therapy sessions for monster support, metal bands, and stories to make Luke, Flynn, and his boys smile.

Besides, Calypso helped Odysseus only after she held him captive for seven years and he provided her a son (or several, depending on the author). There were no sons on the island, unless they were hiding in the cartoon-barrels. Maybe the ancient authors truly had discredited her.

“I can stay,” he said hesitantly, “but only for a few days. Flynn, Luke, and my boys need me.”

Calypso’s lips pursed and her gaze softened, making her look both relieved and troubled. She glanced away. “You’re so young to have children.”

“Oh, we adopted.” Jack beamed. “Luke says they’re too close in age to be my sons, and Axel says I’m not allowed to both be the head of our metal band and his father, but they’ve taken well to it. They haven’t started calling me dad yet, but I’ll work them over.”

Calypso looked confused. “Metal band?” she repeated.

Jack leaned forward excitedly. “We already played once at the HMM—a bar for monsters—er—a tavern.” He scrambled to find words that would translate to ones she would recognize. “The crowd loved us. Clops threw a goat at us!”

“A goat?”

“Yeah! A goat’s this four-legged—” Jack fumbled, realizing that’s not the part that confused her. She repressed a smile at the pause. “It’s a really big deal to have a monster throw a goat at you instead of trying to eat it. Kind of like when people throw their underwear at the stage and about as sanitary. Much lighter impact.”

“What?!” Her face scrunched in disgust. The expression was almost cute. It put Jack at ease. This was the first time he felt like she wasn’t acting or hiding anything. “People have thrown their underwear at you while you’re performing? Is that… normal?”

Jack considered this. “I don’t really know. It never happened to me when I did solos in the church choir—” Well, once after service but that was a little different. One of those instances where the boy denied it happened the next day. “—but Pax—one of my sons—talks about it like it’s a marker of success. I think they’re mostly thrown at Axel. He’s a handsome boy and a hearthrob amongst demigod and monster alike. Plus, he’s the guitarist, and the angsty one, and people always love angsty guitar players.”

The look of confusion deepened. Jack absently tugged a lock of his hair, wishing it was a little longer. “It’s like a lute—oh, wait, that was 13th century. Uh, it’s a fretted stringed instrument—anywhere from four to nine strings though standard is six, and you play it by plucking or strumming with one hand while fretting with the other—or picking. Or bapping the body. Uh—how about I make you one? All I need is a box, a longish piece of wood, some sticks, and some of your uncut harp strings.”

I can make an instrument, but can’t make a boat. Not for the first time, Jack wondered why Luke and Flynn wanted to keep him around. He managed to use his powers to save Axel, Pax, and Alabaster (though, really, he thought it was mostly Flynn. She was so incredible). But he still didn’t feel like he was great at the killing department, regardless of Phil’s continuous encouragement. Even during the interrogations he and Flynn had been conducting on Romans, he flinched and shrieked when someone’s finger was broken. Despite all this time, he hoped Flynn and Luke found him useful.

Calypso nodded slowly. “Will you teach me how to play?”

Jack nodded enthusiastically. “The positioning might seem weird, but you’ll pick it up easily. From what I’ve heard of your singing and harp-playing, you have perfect pitch and a natural grasp on music—”

She tucked a lock behind her ear. “You like my singing?”

He tilted his head quizzically. “Of course. You’re incredibly talented, both naturally with your voice quality and the amount of work you’ve put into perfecting your craft.” Jack supposed that’s what he’d do, too, if he had an eternity to work on anything. An eternity of music—the foundations for paradise. Maybe that’s why God is said to have a choir of angels and how he crafted souls: by singing them to life. “Each word you sing weaves a secondary layer of emotion—both melodious and melancholic, interweaving multiple stories into—” He frowned, feeling his explanation lacked poetic value—ah!

“’Tis sweet, when mournfulness enshrouds

The spirit sorrowing and pale,

And gather round the angry clouds,

To take the harp and tune its wail.

‘Tis sweet, when calmly broods the night,

To wander forth where waters roll,

And, mingling with the waves its voice,

To rouse the passions of the soul!”

When Jack was done, she stared at him, her eyes wide and her expression unreadable. He frowned. “I—sorry—” he said, his insides churning. Had he done something wrong? He didn’t feel confused right now. The world felt so much clearer. An uncomfortable dread settled into him upon realizing something for the first time: not everyone burst into poetry at random. How stupid had he been to not know that before?

“No.” She put a hand on his. Her eyes watered. “I—that was beautiful. Did you—”

Jack blushed and pulled his hand back. “No. It’s by John Rollin Ridge, a famous Native American poet. I was just reciting.”

She cleared her throat and looked away. “I—let’s get you a box. I wish to hear this guitar of which you speak.”

 ***

Normally, Jack felt such mania for whatever project he focused on, everything else fell in the background. As he twisted the tuning pegs of his guitar (sabotaged off Calypso’s extra harp) his mind scattered with worry.

This newfound clarity was almost overwhelming. There was so much wrong in the world for him to mull over. Each time he stopped singing, it hovered on its peripheral, like a night terror lurking along the receding rays of the sun.    

Between each question from Calypso—she enjoyed hearing updates from the outside world—he’d hum or sing the ballads he’d composed about Flynn’s ventures. Calypso would pause her work on the strings and stare at him with that unreadable expression.  

After she finished with the sixth string—winding them of her hair—she sat closer to him. They worked in the shade, where the woods met the beach. Some distant whisper warned Jack that more time had passed than the evening angle of the sun, but he couldn’t be sure. The sun was all he had to go off of, and he wasn’t used to the awareness of passing time. Normally, Jack felt the passage of existence through the crystal notes of a song, the annoyed flash of Flynn’s smile, Pax’s giggle, or the upwell of elation at the end of monster help session, measuring life in crescendos and decrescendos of energy and joy. Jack didn’t like wanting to look at a clock, especially now that there were none. That was always someone else’s job.

“Why did you adopt children?” Calypso asked it with the practiced calm of an over-thought question.

“Flynn can’t have children.” Jack had to be gentler with these strings than the metal ones from home. He wondered how their sound would differ, and hoped it would ease the 2,000—4,000 year transition in music for Calypso.

“She’s barren?”

“So says the goddess of childbirth.”

“And this doesn’t bother you?”

Another reason Jack couldn’t stay long: it was almost the weekend before he vanished and he and Flynn would need to go to her Nainia’s apartment to sing to her, as they did every Sunday. The kind grandmother’s health was failing and Jack knew they needed to visit more often. “Why should it?” Jack frowned, repeating the question in his head. “Well, it did when I first found out. I wanted a family. Then, I adopted[2] the boys, and now we have one. And, it wouldn’t matter even if she could. We’re not… physical. Recently, we started curling up without clothing, but nothing else. Just snuggles.”

Jack felt his cheeks flush, both at the memory of Flynn snuggled up in his bunk (she never let him near hers; she wanted a place of her own) and that he’d told Calypso about it. Was that something else people didn’t normally blurt out? To Luke or Phil? Sure. To Calypso the Seductress, the Detainer of Men…

Her cheeks rouged. Shame crept along his awareness. You weren’t supposed to blurt stuff like that. Negative two on the Jack social protocol scoreboard.

“Oh… um… But you’ve already adopted—have you two not been married long?” She struggled to maintain eye contact.

Something pinched in Jack’s chest. “Um… she’s not really into the idea of marriage, but we’ve been dating for…” With no clocks on the island, he didn’t know how many days he had been unconscious. Normally, Jack could recite the length of time down to the minute. The thought of Flynn’s blush when he asked her to prom. The day before he met Luke. The day Jack accidentally killed his whole mortal family with a song.

That memory hadn’t resurfaced in so long, not since he was sobbing into Flynn’s arms over it. How could he banish it from his thoughts? It wasn’t like the thoughts of his half-siblings he killed—the other children of Apollo. No. They deserved it. They had reaped the favor of their father since birth. The cessation of that favoritism brought the world back to order, the way things should be to balance the scale that an unfair god created, like correctly a flat note to perfect harmony. But his family… Had he ever even had a funeral? And did it matter?

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Calypso asked.

The funeral part did bother Jack. It took him a moment to retrace the pieces, sliding his fingers along the guitar string. Flynn. Sex. Marriage.

Flynn would puppet and charmspeak boys into their room to humiliate and toy with them, but, she wouldn’t take Jack. Jack never wanted to pressure her, but icy insecurity crawled through him at the thought. What was wrong with him? It didn’t matter that Prometheus said Jack and Flynn viewed sex differently: Jack, as an expression of love; Flynn, as subjugation. Jack didn’t understand that. All he wanted was to be everything Flynn needed, and he didn’t understand why she could puppet others but wouldn’t puppet him. If that’s what she wanted—

         The string snapped and lashed him across the cheek.

         He shrieked and jerked backwards. Blood trickled down his skin. A full string wasted—an instrument piece dying before it could sing its first song.

         Something cool touched his face. Humming filled his ears. The lashed skin tingled and Jack wondered if this is how others felt when he healed them.

         When Jack blinked to clear his vision, Calypso knelt beside him. Her too-perfect face rested in a gentle, knowing smile. The strap of her white dress slid onto her shoulder, tickled by the length of the braid. For the first time, she looked like the goddess of the island—something about the subtle shift in confidence.

         Jack flinched when he felt her spider fingers in his hair. She must have put them there to hold him steady for a cheek-cleaning. “You ran from me when you first found out who I was. Do you—did you really think I could make you forget Flynn?” The question could have been rhetorical, but there was enough real curiosity to make Jack tremble.  

Fear coiled his confidence, the same fear present when Luke lost himself to Kronos or his anger. If Calypso lost her temper…

         “Odysseus never forgot Penelope,” Jack whispered, “So the stories say.”  

Could that fear come from the possibility of forgetting Flynn? Do people only experience fear when they’re experiencing doubt or uncertainty?

At the watery glisten of her beautiful almond eyes, an idea made Jack sit up and almost clock foreheads with her. She startled at the sudden movement. “And you never forgot Odysseus!” Jack cried. “Calypso, do you always fall for the people on your island?”

Calypso hesitated. A tear broke from the dam along her eyelashes. “I… I try not to say anything when travelers first come…”

“Have you heard of platonic love?”

Her brow furrowed. Her melancholy faltered to confusion. “Platonic? You mean… relating to Plato? Or the idea that abstract objects are objective, timeless, and are non-physical and non-mental?”

Jack would need to ask Alabaster about that later. “Uh—well, I want to be your friend. You’re really nice, but you don’t need to fall in love with everyone you meet, or at least not romantic love. Let’s be friends! I mean—have you ever heard of a rebound?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think you ever fully moved on from Odysseus. So, we should talk about him. Tell me what you loved and hated about him and why you fell for him in the first place.”

Calypso’s expression darkened. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Exactly! You never forgave him for hurting you or yourself for loving him. Both are still hurting you. So, let me be your friend. Let me help you get over him without being a replacement for him. And, after this war is over, we can still be friends! Either we decapitate Zeus and his lackeys and his power no long holds you to the island, or we can keep in touch. I know the myths say I can’t come back twice, but I’ll bet I can Iris Message you. I mean, you have rainbows and Iris can go anywhere rainbows can.”

Her lips cracked to protest. Upon considering his words, she stared off at the coastline. “No one has thought of that before.”

Jack beamed. The fear was gone. He shoved a hand between the two of them (awkward due to the close quarters). “Let’s shake on it?”

Calypso glanced from Jack’s hand back to his face. Curiosity perched her lips. “You’re… one of the oddest men I’ve ever met, Jack Flash.”

Jack blushed. “I get that a lot.”

Cautiously, she shook his hand.

At the time, Jack didn’t think to make her swear on the River Styx.

He should have.

 ***

author’s note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! This series is going to continue! I’ve just been struggling to focus on writing with some crazy stuff going on at home. ^.^’‘‘‘ Thanks for your patience and continued support!

 Footnotes:

[1] So, Homer’s Ogygia is as Riordan described it. I needed to at least alter the flowers so Jack wouldn’t immediately recognize where he was. Also, flowers for symbolism because I’m a tool.  

 [2] I kept accidentally writing, “kidnapped” here. Not too far off.

#Tales from Mount Othrys #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #TFMO #PJO #HOO #fanfiction #Jack Flash #Calypso #My cat is named after Calypso #Her screams are not siren like #especially not at 4:30 in the morning #I hope you're staying healthy!

[trippingthelightdyspraxic]

PRE-LOCKDOWN TENSION: It’s A Thing.

January 5th, 2021.

Yesterday I felt tense all day. I’d slept badly, I had a vague sense of dread and every little thing irritated the hell out of me. My dyspraxia ramped itself up so that I was not only walking into door frames as usual, but into the walls as well.  Usually when I feel like this it’s a sure sign my period’s incoming, but that wasn’t it. 

JUST SHUT UP KEIR

After sitting at my laptop for two hours failing to get on with any of the three articles I’d started, I began to doomscroll. The tabs open on my screen multiplied: The Guardian, BBC News, Sky News, and as the news feeds turned my brain to vegan gelatin, The Mirror. Every time I hit Refresh, a tiny hit of dopamine - have they actually made a decision yet -  turned quickly to the dregs of disappointment.  A football result. A New Year MBE for someone I’ve never heard of. Keir Starmer calls for an immediate lockdown - cheers Keir, Boris will feel contractually obliged to do the opposite now so basically you’ve screwed us all.

GOD BORIS WILL YOU LOCK US DOWN ALREADY

It was obvious we needed a lockdown. SAGE scientists had been calling for one since before Christmas, and the Chief Medical Officer had raised the alert level to 5, meaning that the NHS was in danger of being overwhelmed.  It was obvious that a lockdown could and should be imminent, but the confusion felt overwhelming. I hadn’t felt like this since March, when I was working in a school library and I’d sat between two year eleven pupil librarians racing each other on their refresh buttons to see who could get the news of the rumoured school closures first. 

SCHOOL IS TOTALLY SAFE. HONEST. 

Had I imagined that planned press briefing from Downing Street at midday? Any mention of it had disappeared from the Live feeds: perhaps I’d imagined it. But if I hadn’t imagined it, why had it been cancelled? What did they know that I didn’t? What new Coronahorrors were being frantically discussed even now, with every Refresh, in some secret bunker beneath Boris’ port cellar? 

Teaching Unions had advised their members the previous day that to go into work was unsafe. My own usually cautious union had, a day later, advised me of the same. And yet the Prime Minister was telling us that schools were safe and we should send our primary aged children in. Always a good girl at school, my default position in life is to do as I’m told unless it involves shopping my neighbours to the Gestapo or eating offal, so I duly waved off my ten year old and tried to disguise the cynicism in my voice as I told her to have a lovely day. 

At eleven o’ clock, two hours, and no articles later, the dread phone call from the school pierced my consciousness like a malfunctioning smoke alarm. 

“S is in the medical room,” the receptionist said. My heartbeat raced -  “It’s not Covid.” - and slowed again. Apparently the class had been watching a film about Odysseus when my kid had freaked out at the Cyclops and come over faint. I almost laughed with relief. “You can phone back later to check she’s OK,” the receptionist reassured me. I forgot. 

I BLAME THE CAT

After a while I gave up trying to work, and sat on the cat’s preferred chair with my legs outstretched. Sure enough, she fell asleep on me. 

“Look,” I told my teenagers, “I can’t do anything, dammit. The cat fell asleep on me. I think I’ll just read for half an hour.” 

Three hours later they started saying things like “Have you had lunch?” as I began the second volume of the Dystopian trilogy I hadn’t even intended to start. 

At twenty past two,  Nicola Sturgeon announced that Scotland would go into lockdown from midnight. Wales was sensibly doing likewise. From past experience it looked like Boris would follow their lead (eventually) and my PLT eased slightly. I shook off the cat and made myself some carb-heavy food. Then at 3.19 came the announcement that the Prime Minister would address the nation at 8pm, ON TELLY.  I exhaled the breath I’d been holding all day. Something that serious was either going to be lockdown or the Queen was dead. 

EVERYBODY WATCH THE BORIS SHOW

Don’t get me wrong. No-one loves a lockdown, and I’m no exception. But by the time the Government finally got around to it yesterday, a YouGov poll had reported that 80% of us would support one. Staring into Boris’ cold dead glassy eyes between episodes of Coronation Street as he announced Lockdown 3,  I felt a relief like I usually only feel once a month. 

Lockdowns, like periods, are messy, inconvenient and painful.  But the tension that precedes them is far worse. As women know, you just have to get on with it. 

Chocolate helps.

Alison J North

#lockdown UKlockdown anxiety dyspraxia mentalhealth

[awinetintedmuse]

Dionysus On Heroes

So the thing is, Dionysus doesn’t really interact with heroes much in mythology. But he is the god of theatre, aka the god of writing down the stories, so we can probably imagine how Dionysus feels about various heroes based on the stories being told about them, assuming Dionysus divinely inspired them the way Ares or Athena divinely inspires warriors.

In that regard, there are three categories of heroes I can see:

A. Very heroic, much wow B. Heroic but stupid C. Stupid but did some heroic things occasionally

In that regard, some examples of A. would be Perseus and Hercules. B. would be guys like Bellerophon. C. includes guys like Theseus, Odysseus, Achilles, and Aeneas. You know, heroes who basically go from place to place making dicks of themselves.

Dionysus loves column A, thinks B can be a learning experience, and thinks C are guys who are idiots and you should not follow their examples. 

Seriously though, Dionysus loves Perseus, mostly because as far as heroes go in Greek myth, Perseus is a good dude. Like his heroic motivation is ‘some guys are creeping on my mom, I need to save her’ and then he goes off to do that. Hell on his way back he sees Andromeda tied to a rock and he’s like ‘hey what’s wrong’ and she’s like ‘sea monster angry, family decided to feed me to it’ and he’s like ‘that’s shitty of them, brb’ and slays the monster despite not being offered anything for it, because he feels it’s the right thing to do. Like, he’s basically the Steve Rogers of Greek Myth. He’s even got a shield! 

That said, most of the time if there is shade thrown at him, it’s over the fact that he kills Medusa, but that’s because people are more familiar with Ovid’s fan fiction of her rather than the original story. and I do mean fan fiction, because no other source other than Ovid makes Medusa into a tragic figure. He’s the only one. And even then, Ovid doesn’t fault Perseus for killing her, he faults Athena for cursing her. Even Ovid who reimagines the story of Medusa as her as a tragic figure won’t besmirch Perseus. That’s how heroic and clean cut Perseus is. 

I mean, Hercules at least murdered his family and stuff. Perseus literally never did a thing wrong in his entire life. Guy has a spotless record. 

Guys in column B are usually heroic, but then have tragic flaws that make them figures you want to learn from, not emulate. Bellerophon, guy who killed the Chimera, only to try to scale Mt. Olympus, is in that category. Also included are Jason and Medea, Hector, Ajax, and Patroclus. Mostly heroic individuals who then did less than great things or made mistakes somehow. Still mostly remembered positively or get reimagined as mostly good people. Usually.

Column C is where all the morons go in Dionysus’ eyes. Achilles, invincible Achilles, pouts like a damn child and lets his lover and thousands of others die because Agamemnon is mean to him. Theseus abandons Ariadne, the woman who helped him survive the labyrinth, gets his father killed by not changing his sails, and then kidnaps Helen of Troy age 9 to keep in his dungeon until she’s of banging age so he can make her his wife. EWWWWW. Odysseus’ story might as well be called ‘man travels across world, makes ass of himself everywhere’ since he’s basically the ancient equivalent of an American tourist going around asking why there isn’t real food everywhere he goes. There’s a reason why literally everyone who sailed with him died horribly. Aeneas is the same as Odysseus, only Trojan, and has a tendency to tell long stories about how great he is despite losing rather than getting all his friends killed. 

But yeah, long story short, Dionysus is not an objective and fair god when he writes stories down. But that’s also because he likes to make sure the people who are being lionized aren’t giant dicks. Whether or not humans listen is another matter. 

#ooc #headcanon

[rococodeco]

May 25 - Blog a day

Pet photos and stories. Childhood pets. Favorite pet. Current pet. All the animals.

Pets in chronological order. (No pictures, I’m sorry, I don’t have any)

Robin - cat who was a kitten when I was born. She never like me very much. We lived next door to a cat named Mouse. They were buds.

Daphne - my sister’s guinea pig. I had a Beatrix Potter book about guinea pigs (Apple Dumplings I think) that I gave her to read. She ate it.

Chiquita and Woodstock - a pair of parakeets, Chiquita was green, Woodstock was blue. My mom put their cages out on the patio one summer day and Robin and Mouse tried to get them. Chiquita escaped. Woodstock lived for a few more years but died one summer from the heat.

Lassie - a guinea pig who the first pet that was mine, I named him after Lassie the dog. Yes, him. My parents were okay with me naming a boy guinea pig Lassie. He lived for a very long time for a guinea pig. He was quiet, hardly ever whistled. He loved fresh veggies and grass. We would take him outside to graze in the summer. One time he escaped into the overgrown garden. We found him a week later inside a tunnel he wove out of grass.

Oreo - my buddy. I found him hiding in our garden one day. I bribed him with Kraft singles and bologna to be my friend. He’s a little stray cat who chose us as his family. It was years before he was comfortable coming into the house. But he came with us every time we moved. We lived for a while at my Grandma’s house. She was generally anti-pet but Oreo won her over. When we moved, he would always come out to say hi to Grandma when she visited (fuck those people who say cats don’t recognize people, Oreo even knew which car Grandma drove). He loved pets and attention. He would climb on top of my book so I would pay attention to him instead of reading. When I was 14 our neighbors woke us early one morning to tell us he had been attacked by dog that got out of his yard and animal control came to get him. Oreo was the sweetest cat, but he was also a tough tomcat who did not take shit from dogs. I’d seen him scare dogs away over the years. This dog wasn’t intimidated. For some reason I do not understand, my mom told me it was my responsibility to find out what animal control did with him. I didn’t know where to start and was too scared to make cold calls. My sister made the calls when she got home from her honeymoon and we learned that he was put down because the dog had punctured his lungs. He was the best boy and deserved so much better than he got.

Ody - One day my dad showed up in the middle of the day with a tiny terrified kitten. He handed the kitten to me and went back to work. Our parents hadn’t told us that the shop cat (named Wingnut) at his work had kittens and one was  coming home. The terrified kitten proved to be pretty curious and adventurous so I named him Odysseus but we always called him Ody. He and I were inseparable when he was a kitten. He’d sleep in my bed, come into the bathroom with me while I brushed my teeth. I’d give him breakfast and make my own. He always finished eating first and come sit on my lap and beg for some of my cereal. Then he’d follow me around all day, even following me down the street when I’d walk to the library (though he usually gave up by the time we got to the corner). When he was a kitten, he thought he was a little human. He wanted to eat whatever I was eating. He would put his head on pillows when he napped. My parents weren’t responsible pet owners and did not get him neutered. He started wandering and fighting and fucking. He wasn’t as sweet as he was when he was a kitten. My dad and I both got bit when we bothered him too much (our fault, he gave us plenty of warning by growling) and he bit hard. He started disappearing for days at a time. There were times we thought we’d never see him again. He was eventually neutered around the age of 8 when he went to the vet for an abscessed tooth. He turned into a chill and lazy cat who just wanted to hang out at home. A couple years later he moved to the mountains with my parents and became a total indoor cat. And gained a ton of weight. He lived out his last years so spoiled by my mom. I miss that cat. He’s been showing up in my dreams lately.

Katie - My little sister dreamed for a long time of owning a cat named Katie the Calico Kitten. Someone in the neighborhood was giving away kittens so I took my sister to see them. Sure enough, there was a fluffy little calico kitten. Our older sister took two of the other kittens named Sophie and Cricket. Ody was definitely the father of Cricket, her pattern matched his exactly. 50/50 whether he was Katie’s father, but he really took to her when we brought her home. He would give her baths and nap with her. It was so sweet and unexpected. She climbed the tree in our backyard and realized she didn’t know how to get down. She panicked and kept climbing higher and higher until she fell out of the tree. She fell probably 40 feet. She seemed shaken up but otherwise okay after the fall so my parents didn’t take her to the vet. But after the fall she really didn’t like people to pick her up or touch her outside of head scratches. She really liked to be with people, she would follow whoever was home around the house, but she didn’t want pets or attention. She was also such a cranky cat. She hated strangers. She was also hilarious. She would knock her food across the kitchen floor and hunt it. She would mix up her water with her paw before drinking. She was floofy and cute. When she got really excited chasing after string or other cat toys she would run face first into furniture. She was fascinated with the raccoons that started passing through our yard. She always wanted to go outside when they were around. We kept her in because raccoons can be real dicks. She disappeared one day when my mom let her out of the house extra early. I searched all over for her (this was after college, before I had a job so I was home all day). When my siblings came home from high school we made posters and put them all over the neighborhood. There was no sign of Katie, who liked to go outside, but never left the yard. Either she ran off with a raccoon in some sort of Romeo and Juliet love story or a fox got her. We’ll never know.

I haven’t had pets as an adult. But I will get cats again some day.

EDIT: 3 days later and I remembered I forgot Bugs, a huge lop with floppy ears. He was a dick. He was my uncle’s step-kids’ pet but my uncle is also a dick and gave all their pets away when he married their mom. We got Bugs. (See grandma being anti-pet above, more than any of her kids, this uncle absorbed all her neuroses and turned them into cruelty.) Bugs was a total horndog. We had 4 or 5 locks around the door on his coop because he was constantly trying to escape to mate with the cottontails in our neighborhood. He raped poor Oreo once. We would let him out to graze in the backyard along with Lassie. He would thank you by kicking manically until your legs were full of scratches as you tried to put him back in his coop. In the winter we put his cage under carport in the front yard to protect him from snow/make it easier to feed him. The door was up against the wall so he couldn’t escape, because he kept trying to push through the quadruple locked door. One snowy morning we woke up to find the cage pulled away from the wall and dog and bunny prints in the yard. Some dogs pulled his cage away from the wall and he got out. We never saw him again. 

[northshoreblues]

LOL HELLO DUSTY ASS TUMBLR OF MINE! 

Dusting this off to say: I’m stressed. Go figure. I’m 8.75 (I just did some crazy math so now I’m feeling like being very specific with my numbers) months pregnant and it’s a very weird place to be. I just read this article that described it using the German word zwischen, meaning “in between.” The article writer was emphasizing that this time should be embraced as a spiritual, mystical moment preparing for when a woman has to has to go from this world to the next. There’s about to be a crossing-over. The journey of Odysseus was mentioned (my kind of article, as you can tell lol). ANYWAY, it’s not really this part that’s stressing me out... I’ve prepared as much as I think I can for birth. Bub’s room is ready, birthing class has been taking, and going in knowing that I really won’t know how things will go down has helped me just accept whatever happens. 

The stress is more due to finding childcare that doesn’t terrify me and bankrupt me,... and then,... other family stuff. 

My mom, dad, and sister are now in the metro. With a ton of help from my aunt, my mom and sister live up here now, but are struggling. I worry for my sister’s mental health, and my mother’s ability to find a job that she can actually do (the first one didn’t work out). I guess I just feel responsible, because if I hadn’t moved, they’d still be doing their thing down in Springfield. Not that I don’t think people need to learn how to adapt through change... but I just hate feeling like it’s my fault they’re having a hard time. I really need to let this go for my own sake, but that’s easier said than done. 

Then over the last few weeks I had to make a tough call as my dad’s guardian. He’s having a harder time swallowing his pureed diet, and they wanted to put him on a feeding tube permanently. I debated this for awhile, and at first said okay, but ended up doing some more research (because it just felt WRONG) and changed my mind. I had to sign some waiver refusing the advice of medical professionals, but it felt like the right call. He wasn’t even supposed to survive his strokes, and his quality of life is... not great. He’s trapped in a useless body. But being trapped in your body and never getting any food or liquid by mouth? He would decline fast, I just know it. I feel I made the right call, despite the risks. 

Soooo that’s my random ramble after not being on Tumblr much at all this year. I need recommendations for shows to binge while on maternity leave (also known as: Anna takes 9ish weeks off without pay in which she also has to pay her insurance premium because she hasn’t been at her job long enough to qualify for FMLA and she’s SUPER PISSED! :D) 

#personal #in between #stress #anticipation #pregnancy

[fcb4]

The Lotus Eaters

On Friday evening around the campfire at ManCamp, I had the privilege of playing the part of the Bard and told the tale of the story of the Lotus-Eaters in The Oddessy.

It was a sacred moment to sit under the starry expanse, warmed by a fire fueled by mountain hewn timber, along the shores of the glacier-carved waters of Priest Lake, Idaho.

We did what men searching for wisdom have done for centuries, we spoke together of those who have fallen asleep in their journey, men who have “forgotten home”.

The Lotus-Eaters, book 9, The Odessey by Homer “Nine days fierce winds drove me away from there, across the fish-filled seas, and on the tenth we landed where the Lotus-eaters live, people who feed upon its flowering fruit. We went ashore and carried water back. Then my companions quickly had a meal by our swift ships. We had our food and drink, and then I sent some of my comrades out to learn about the men who ate the food the land grew there. I chose two of my men and with them sent a third as messenger. They left at once and met the Lotus-eaters, who had no thought of killing my companions, but gave them lotus plants to eat, whose fruit, sweet as honey, made any man who tried it lose his desire to ever journey home or bring back word to us—they wished to stay, to linger there among the Lotus-eaters, feeding on the plant, eager to forget about their homeward voyage. I forced them, eyes full of tears, into our hollow ships, dragged them underneath the rowing benches, and tied them up. Then I issued orders for my other trusty comrades to embark and sail away with speed in our fast ships, in case another man might eat a lotus and lose all thoughts about his journey back.”

Many men are... weary, distracted, disillusioned, defeated, wounded, burdened by battle, and in need of...rescue.

The Lotus flower could be many things in a man’s life. For some, it is alcohol and other drugs. It may be a relationship, sexual pleasure, work or even religious performance. For too many, it is a loss of desire for...home.

There are not enough men like Odysseus who are searching for sleeping men. Those willing to drag them back to the ship and tie them up for their own good. I saw some of these men around that campfire. I pleaded with ancient words, hoping and praying that they would awaken from their ‘honey-sweet’ captivity.

By God’s grace and the truth found in meaningful tales, I also witnessed that spark of resurrection. This weekend, hands were laid on dead men walking, hope was reborn, captives heard the door unlocking, vision pried open bored eyes, courage was stirred to flame.

I saw light breaking in and that circle of men became the hull of a ship launching on towards home, again.

May these men: Be Odysseus, and abandon the Lotus.

[colletterayner]

Food For Food dinner: You’ll soon Know

Collette Rayner & Ash Kilmartin as part of a two week residency at Yellow Brick, Athens, Greece

Each act of speech is at once a promise and a demand. Are you still with me? Can you believe this? What can you tell me in return? Ok, well, I’m really not supposed to tell you this, but... Gossip is a perpetual motion machine: expression that breeds expression. Gossip feeds and is fed by community, a system that runs on conversation. In any social relation — conversation, collaboration, friendship — we constantly make a promise (of entertainment, of listening, of understanding, of resolving). But what is it that we expect in return? Using the social and literary devices of gossip, anecdotes and jokes, Ash and Collette will play with tempo, pace, volume, and tone to test the limits of expectation of speech. Using each other as sounding-boards, they will experiment with language games, writing exercises and different modes of scripted and improvised delivery to produce new work. They will work against the perceived ‘character’ of gossip as only viscious or harmful (especially gendered as feminine); rather seeing it as a form of bonding, verbal processing and care-taking.These works will culminate in a live as a performance/radio broadcast event at Yellow Brick and collaborative film work and text work surrounding its production and presentation. Toward this event, over the course of the stay at Yellow Brick, they will also collect works and stories by other artists and people from the communities they encounter, to be able to host these on our own ‘platform of narratives’. The economy of exchanging speech acts, provides opportunities to both lead and be guided through shared knowledge and its expression. *Ash and Collette draw their title from Adriana Cavarero’s etymologies of knowledge and the voice, beginning with the Greek metaphysicians: “the Sirens alert Odysseus to their omniscience by telling him ‘we know [idein] all’”

[riting]

Johanna Hedva and Lucas Wrench on the durational performance of Machine Project

When Machine Project closed a year ago, on January 13, 2018, we wondered: what if what just ended was a show that was fifteen years long? Perhaps a bunch of artists had visited there as unwitting collaborators in, and audience to, an ongoing performance disguised as discrete events? We asked a couple Machine regulars to write about the show and reflect on how it might help them think about issues specific to performance.

Johanna Hedva: If Machine Project wasn’t a big ol’ performance, what was it?

Was it a science-fiction movie? It had (was) an imaginative concept that foregrounded innovation and exciting technologies, and was entirely populated by extraterrestrials.

Was it a catering service? When I worked there, every day we’d scoot the tables together and squinch our IKEA folding chairs in close and eat the takeout lunch Mark Allen had bought for us out of company funds, and this is the number one reason, of so many reasons, why it’s still the best job I’ve ever had, and I imagine I can speak for my fellow colleagues in saying that it’s one of the best jobs they’ve ever had, simply because eating together day in and day out for several years builds community and trust and friendship like nothing else.

Figure 1: Claire Kohne as Kalypso the vengeful sorceress who chases after Odysseus as he is being rescued in the VONS parking lot. From Odyssey Odyssey (2013).

Was it a really long Vine? ‘Twas a zany goofball slapstick premise exceptionally executed in an unfathomably pinched amount of time, and also served as a vessel for cultural criticism and commentary, while birthing a zillion trends.

Was it a tabletop role-playing game? Maybe not exactly, but in essence it was a bunch of people who could be called players rather than competitors, creating their own characters who participate in a collective narrative within an agreed-upon (fictional or non) setting, which follows guidelines and rules of that agreed-upon world, but which is not necessarily and probably quite different from the rest of the world, and which is great fun and probably addicting. Also, once they got that great website, they sort of became a MMORPG (massively multiplayer online role-playing game), because of those brilliant animated avatars (drawn by Tiffanie Tran) of an octopus (representing the artist), a cactus with a beret (poets), and a pineapple with a mustache (representing the public).

Was it a Hollywood blockbuster? Because it pretty much fits film critic Tom Shone’s definition of a blockbuster being “a fast-paced, exciting entertainment, inspiring interest and conversation beyond the theatre (which would later be called ‘buzz’), and repeated viewings,” and, for a nonprofit, it was pretty damn financially successful.

Was it a book of aphorisms? Fits the Online Etymology Dictionary’s definition for aphorism as “a concise, terse, laconic, and/or memorable expression of a general truth or principle,” and it would be more than just one aphorism, more like a book of them, a very long book, because there were way more than just a few.

Figure 2: Joe Seely as Clay, an old bitch who's been waiting in the desert for 100 years to see the symbol of her desire again. From Ancient Monuments to What (2015).

Speaking of books! Was it a cookbook? Chock full of recipes that simultaneously include careful measurements and room for error, for how to make various dishes, from soupy liquids to layered cakes to multi-plated entrees?

Was it an example of magical realism? Political critique folded into phantasmagorical otherworldly otherworlds, with intricate metaphors, animals, witches, forests, and shipwrecks, and strange objects and doorways that may or may not take you to another dimensional realm that may or may not be 100 years from now or in the past.

Was it a PhD thesis on how certain forms of sociality feel better than others, but strangely it’s hard to articulate why?

Was it an attempt at utopia? Isn’t utopia inherently a failure? Then, but, so, didn’t it succeed?

Was it a puzzle that refused to be solved?

Figure 3: Nickels Sunshine as Yama-uba, a crone with mouths under her hair who feeds on young girls. From Ancient Monuments to What (2015).

Was it a distant island that we tried to voyage to, but alas, our ship ran aground and our beards grew wildly and became entangled in the rigging and, thin with scurvy, we watched the sun go down as the skies roared with thunder and some of us howled at the future while others listened to the wind?

Was it a petition or a vow?

Was it a love letter? It loved me. I loved it. Am I the only one, I don’t think so.

Should these questions be answered? Can they? But why would we want to?

Was it a promise covered in tiny musical notes that when all played together made the big, resounding chord of curious joy?

Was it a dream? It was one of the best dreams.

Johanna Hedva is a fourth-generation Los Angelena on their mother’s side and, on their father’s side, the grandchild of a woman who escaped from North Korea. Hedva is the author of the novel, On Hell (2018, Sator Press). Their fiction, essays, and poems have appeared in Triple Canopy, The White Review, Black Warrior Review, Entropy, Mask, 3:AM, Asian American Literary Review, The Journal Petra, DREGINALD, and Two Serious Ladies. Their works of performance, design, and sound have been shown at Human Resources LA, PAM, the Getty’s 2013 Pacific Standard Time, the LA Architecture and Design Museum, and the Museum of Contemporary Art on the Moon. Most of their performances in Los Angeles were hosted by Machine Project, including The Cave series and Odyssey Odyssey, their adaptation of Homer's Odyssey, which was performed in a Honda Odyssey being driven down the freeway. 

Lucas Wrench: Notes on Vermin

The Machine Project Mystery Theater was originally built in 2013 for Chris Weisbart’s Alvarado Caverns project - which transformed Machine Project’s storefront into an amalgamation of a 99 cent store, gas station bathroom, hologram-laden indoor cave, and a faux-victorian seventeen seat basement theater, replete with velvet curtains, gold foam molding, and clamshell stage lights. Most importantly, Machine Project’s Mystery Theater featured a drop-tile foam ceiling, painted gold, leaving a ten inch gap between Machine Project’s rapidly deteriorating ground level floorboards and the precariously adhered foamcore below. Due to Machine Project’s penchant for spontaneous trapdoor construction, by the time I arrived in the summer of 2014, this once benign buffer zone had transformed into a kind of snack graveyard, home to pretzel crumbs, gummy bears, stray popcorn, spilled Tecate, and several bags of chips.

I’d like to examine the multi-year rat infestation that followed through the lens of what our founder refers to in donor presentations as “grass roots porosity”. It’s the philosophy that a small, nimble art space like Machine Project can be host, partner, and collaborator with a wide range of fellow art spaces, community groups, and institutions, creating a network that’s arguably more generative than those of better funded, but less porous institutions.

Figure 1: “Pro-Porosity / Grass Roots Culture”

Porosity is a liability for museums. While Machine Project’s vermin offerings were limited to Snyder’s pretzel rods and various gas station snacks, the sustenance provided by collecting institutions is far more valuable. Anthropological materials offer a protein rich food source, full of keratin, wood proteins, and plant matter. Works on paper can be considered simple sugars - easily digestible starches beloved by louse and silverfish. Painting offers a mixed diet - glues and varnish, wood and canvas. In anticipation of these threats, the borders of the institution are vigilantly policed. Giant freezers inoculate unseen intruders. Inspections and traps hunt for “visitors” like lady bugs and house flies, that can indicate a breach in security and become food for more malevolent vermin. Black lights scan for eggs and insect trails that warn of pending invasions.

Figure 2: Document Freezer at the Gilcrease Museum - Tulsa, OK

Figure 3: Insect trap collection at Gilcrease Museum - Tulsa, OK

To be clear, i’m not advocating for more rat-infested art spaces. Machine Project’s infestation was traumatizing. It demanded weekly visits from Karl The Exterminator to remove glue traps from the drop ceiling. I had a rat chew its way through the secret trapdoor in the upstairs apartment and fall some sixteen feet into the storefront. I saw rat tails dip low between the foamcore tiles, nearly brushing the heads of unsuspecting audience members below. Mice crawled over my feet as I attempted to run sound from the back of the theater. More traumatizing still was the constant, audible scurrying, the threat that at any moment the flimsy tiles would fall, unleashing the barely contained plague above.  

Figure 4: Diagram of Machine Project Rat Migration

But with a year and a half of distance between me and the rats, I recognize that the conditions that enabled this gnawing torment are the same conditions that made Machine Project such a valuable resource for artists. It was a space where you could cut a trapdoor in the ceiling without hesitance, and install gold foam tiling without concern for the ensuing trash accumulation. Where a temporary basement theater could stay up for a few more years so other artists can use it. Where the solution to a three year rat infestation was removing the floor of the storefront entirely, then reinstalling it at a 30 degree angle to present a play.

I’m now living in Tulsa, Oklahoma, working at a museum with a giant freezer and insect traps, in an office that requires key-cards to access, where no food is allowed, and the trash is dutifully removed every night.  I am protected here - a beneficiary of the museum’s commitment to preserve their collection in perpetuity, and a casualty of the fact that crumbs in my office could spell disaster for some Xth century manuscript stored a floor below. But from a public programming perspective, tasked with bringing the outside in, I can’t help wondering what it would look like to create some space here where a bit of infestation is tolerable. The only problem is how to keep it from spreading.

Lucas Wrench is a 2019 Tulsa Artist Fellow. He was Machine Project’s operations manager (2014-2017) and associate curator (2015-2017).

Machine Project was a place for artists to do fun experiments, together with the public, in ways that influenced culture. It happened at 1200 D North Alvarado, Los Angeles, CA 90026, and elsewhere, from 2003-2018.

Photos by Laure Joliet and provided by the artists.

#machine project #Long Riting #johanna hedva #lucas wrench