i wonder how long harrow screamed. i wonder how long it took for her to process what had happened—for her brain to catch up to her eyes, to register what gideon did. “you can stop screaming any minute now, just an fyi.” she was screaming as she got up. did she scream while she ate her and rebuilt her? how many times do you think harrow screamed her name? how much do you think was wordless agony? do you think her mouth got used to screaming her name? used to it enough that that was the last thing she said? do you think this was the practice?
Not long after, some cattle were stolen from Euboea by Autolycus, and Eurytus supposed that it was done by Hercules; but Iphitus did not believe it and went to Hercules. And meeting him, as he came from Pherae after saving the dead Alcestis or Admetus, he invited him to seek the kine with him. Hercules promised to do so and entertained him; but going mad again he threw him from the walls of Tiryns.
Pseudo Apollodorus, Bibliotheca, 2.6.2
Iphitos, Herakles, and behind the scene of the murder: Iphitos gifting Odysseus with a bow, and then Odysseus, alone.
okay, so I quoted Apollodorus first, but what actually intrigues me about it is how it goes against a general narrative by making it seem like the act was against his will
Sophokles, Trachiniae
Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca Historica
Herakles and Omphale, Elmer G. Suhr
I'm also fascinated Odysseus' in this moment of the arc, with rituals of friendships cut short and paths diverging where they might have otherwise continued along side each other. there is a tragedy and intimacy of it and the role it plays in the Odyssey that gets to me. Odysseus strings his bow and its a kind of crescendo of several different threads coming together!! and underneath it all, inescapable, Iphitos. everything's interconnected! we're all made up of the people we met along whichever roads we take!!
Greek Notions of the Past in the Archaic and Classical Eras, edited by John Marincola, Lloyd Llewellyn-Jones, Calum Maciver
thinking about the Devastating emotional damage that would come from being constantly told how much you look like your father, how much you take after him and looking into the mirroring and seeing nothing but his jawline and cheeks, the broadness of his shoulders, the forming shadows of his facial hair beginning to come in, the way his bronze eyes sit in your face.
and at first you look upon these features with pride and they make you straighten your back and shoulders, raising your chin slightly to look as much of king as he is "but I will be kinder" you say, "I will lead with a gentle and generous hand" and you would have, in the only way you knew how, but it would not have been what was needed, it would not have been the kindness it was meant to be.
then,,, then you had your mind taken from you, your limbs and body no longer your own but to your minds eye, and the memories that ingrained themselves in your head afterwards, there was no difference; and so as your hand gripped the sword and your arm raised above your head, your feet steadying themselves against the ground, the world slowed to a tormenting pace,,
and then your arm arched down, the writhing shadow in your mind forcing you to use all the strength you have, to cut clean through the neck of your father. And the eyes, the nose, the jaw and the cheeks you saw repeated in every interaction and every reflection rolled past your feet, severed from the shoulders and height you had grown so easily into.
What was it like afterwards? When you met his eyes in broken glass or rippling water. Did it feel like looking at a corpse? Did it feel like you were back in the throne room, severing his head again every time you caught a glimpse of your own reflection, every time you saw his haunted, grief ridden eyes looking back at you instead?
Is that why you blamed yourself so heavily for what happened to your brother? Because you bare your fathers face and shoulders and body and He failed him? I don't blame you. How could you not feel his failures as yours every time you looked into a mirror or still puddle and saw his face, his bronze eyes and black hair crowding the surface. And so you bore not only your own sins but his as wells, because truly they are interchangeable by this point.
"You are your father's son" They said, pride, sadness, bitterness, anger, and resignation brimming the sentence, disregarding completely how you glanced side long at his reflection in the window, desperately aching to see your own face looking back at you, for once.
You know the little yippee cat that jumps up and down? Yeah that is literally me when you post. I've always loved imagining what characters would be like as babies, as most people love a ton of their favorite show characters and get inspired by them, yet, those characters always seem so in-human ( like, you could never imagine yourself in them from how tough and incredible they seem ) but seeing that even fictional characters were once babies is so comforting 🥹🥹.
Your art is beautiful, and you display things in such a sweet way, you catch the dynamic of all of the hashira so perfectly It's amazing. From their expressions to the sparkle in their eyes it's literally exactly what they would look like 😭. You manage to capture a character with their original personality, or what they were before their trauma or the true personality were told about but it isnt displayed in the show ( for example, becuase iguro was abused as a kid, he probably doesn't cry loud, and in your art he doesn't scream cry and its so wholesome I'm gonna die 😭😭 ) .
Your art is so perfect and it's comforting the souls of so many people! I hope you keep going as honestly your so talented and you have an army of supporters behind you 🤍 you should be super super proud of yourself. Also. Please, we understand your a student and need time for your studies, so focus on those if you have to! We are all humans, and no one has infinite time.
Horror of horrors, I'm becoming obsessed with Napoleon. Don't get me wrong, I hate the guy. I just can't stop thinking about him. Like, the battle of Austerlitz 1805? Fucking mental stuff, ruthless tactics. It was so calculated, it's almost satisfying thinking about his plans falling into place. It was obviously awful (as wars generally are) in bringing about so many losses, and fun fact, he actually drowned about 2000 people. How insane is that?! But bloody hell, I will never not be utterly fascinated by him.
Am I Marius? Has it finally happened to me? Is this how he felt? Was his neurodivergent brain also tingling and jingling with intrigue?
no ok @funonion001 you've made me So fucking unwell over this it needs its own post
bc i also used to be like "ah, the neighborhood's a panopticon and Home is the 'warden'" but recent updates & general things ive read changed my outlook entirely. cause like... if Home (the town) was a panopticon, then Home (the house) should be at the 'head' of it all, where they can view everything. but Home can't view everything directly - half the buildings are behind it.
however. i don't think the panopticon thing is entirely wrong, either. there's some truth in it? i'm pretty sure that the neighborhood is Home. it's like Home is the brain/eyes/heart, and everything else are nerve endings. there's this one piece of livestream trivia that i think of, in relation to Housewarming: "...everyone believes their houses are alive in their own special way". what if this is kind of literal? all of the buildings are extensions of Home, or Home is just the core of it all. one big living, breathing neighborhood. Home might not be able to see it all, but he might be able to feel it
and then yeah from the more abstract side of things - your phrasing of "all the other houses circle home" made me put my head in my hands. because there Are a lot of conclusions/interpretations of all of that. also that sentence makes me picture a pack of wolves circling in on a kill, which is. hng.
Home is caged in. Home is surrounded. Home is always being watched. Home is never not alone. everything leads back Home. Home is holding it all together.
and like... it reminds me of Clown once mentioning (loosely, im going off of memory here whose reliability is tenuous on a good day) that part of WH's story relates to the autistic experience / when does a home become a house / will your neighbors treat you differently once they see the authentic you. and that, at least to me and one of my experiences, relates to a feeling of being watched/judged every time i leave my house. or even when i'm by an open window - everywhere i can be Seen, it feels like everyone is keeping one eye on me. existing in public spaces feels like a performance. i'm hyper aware of every single movement i make and it makes me feel so inauthentic and fake and alien and its So So stressful/uncomfortable.
so that pov + Home (and by extension, Wally since they're kinda one in the same) = well! all of the above! can Wally ever relax outside of Home's four walls? they're all looking at him. the entire neighborhood surrounds him - he can't go anywhere without running into them (the buildings and the neighbors). there's no escaping their watch and/or judgement. it's as if Wally and Home are under constant surveillance, or at least it feels like it - which is half the problem. or it's the entire problem? the fear of possibility, not reality.
and then for a different (but also connected for obvi reasons) interpretation - Home and Wally are alone. they are Singular in the neighborhood. everyone else is next to each other, even the stores are paired. but Home stands alone in the middle of it all. which directly relates to Wally and Home being aware - and also together in whatever state the neighborhood is in at the time of the whrp's creation. in a town of neighbors, Home & Wally have none. and that can connect them being at the center of it all, holding their world together - or breaking it apart
also: on the neighborhood map, the path only ends at Home. it's a loop except for the bit leading up to Home's doorstep. where Howdy's Place & Eddie's Post Office are the path widens into one huge circle with no end. Walk the circuit, end up at Home. walk the entire perimeter, and you go nowhere. there isn't a path out, the path doesn't end at any of the buildings except Home. there's something in that, i think.
there's more in my brain but i can't quite reach it...
Listened to some media club plus on a road trip with my sister the other week and now we're watching the show together and we got to the end of the tournament arc and. Earth shattering life changing Kilua my absolute baby boy GON my absolute BABY BOY