#kallisto the bear | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hitlikehammers · 2 months

Text

there is a tree as old as me

rating: teen tags: future fic, outside POV, trespassing, established relationship, engaged steddie💍 ✨for @kallisto-k at my BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST for the prompt: To Build A Home—The Cinematic Orchestra: 'and now, it's time to leave and turn to dust // out in the garden where we planted the seeds // there is a tree as old as me

She catches the trespassers by chance, really.

She’s awake early even for her routine, age doing nothing for the capacity to sleep in on a good day but her hip’s been a trial, and she needs buy a new mattress but Richard’s insistent he can’t bear to sleep on a stone slab, Patricia, good god—she wants to get one of those Select Comforts that splits their settings between two sides as a compromise; he argues those are for lesser mortals, which she’s long learned has evolved in recent years to mean not just that he thinks he’s above something in general, but more now that he thinks he’s better than technological advances.

And Patricia Harrington has standards, certainly, but she can also recognize when

She’s also old enough to remember when ‘new’ was an opportunity to throw her Black Card and gloat a little in the rush of the novelty, the momentary shine until the next new thing appeared to repeat the cycle.

She might be feeling her years, but she doesn’t understand when her husband got so damn old.

At least he’s still savvy enough to the time that they’ve got an airtight security system for the house itself, given the trespassers—more likely would-be-burglars, given the evaluation they’d just paid taxes on for the property—that she spies out the window, hears where she cracked the window in the kitchen to light a cigarette as she brews an early coffee.

Maybe Richard will agree to motion sensors for the yard, if she tells him about these…miscreants.

They’re moving carefully, like they don’t want to be seen, or more likely caught—suspicious, obviously—but they’re also moving like the know where they’re headed, as if they’re familiar with the space they’re traversing even in the pitch dark: even more suspect, really, and she wonders if they’ve cased the home, adds full-property camera surveillance to her list of proposals for reevaluating their security.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to—“ she barely catches the hiss from one of the criminals from across the yard, but it doesn’t last.

It doesn’t last because the second party drags the first close and: the lighting’s horrible, the moon’s crescent at best, but there’s really only one thing to be doing when two bodies press close, and then break apart with a pop she makes out on the breeze and, well. She was young, once.

“Believe it, baby,” the second trespasser rumbles low, and, oh, good god: “we gotta hit all the landmarks.”

They’re men. They’re both of them men and they were just—

“Landmarks?” the first one hisses sharper, this time, and Patricia…she doesn’t care nearly as much as Richard does about what people do in their bedrooms that she personally doesn’t agree with.

But this isn’t anyone’s own bedroom. This is her lawn.

“Of our story,” the second one, he—he—has got such curly hair she likely would have assume it was a very tall women, if it weren’t for the voice; “all our highlights.”

“What, exactly, was—“ the first man, he sounds a little exasperated as he whispers, but…fond. Fond like Patricia hasn’t heard in…well.

A very, very long time, at least.

“Here,” the curly haired fiend traipsing her property stops at a redbud tree Richard had always despised, said it looked tacky, common. Patricia canceled every removal service he’d had whichever secretary he instructed to send.

The second man turns, moves slow toward the tree before reaching, placing a hand on the trunk almost carefully, reverently. There’s something…familiar about him. The shape of his face, the way the the coif of his hair catches in shadow—

“My nanny used to tell me this tree was planted the year I was born, that it grew up with me,” and oh, oh, that’s, he’s—“so that I’d have to eat my vegetables and stuff, if I wanted to see it grow.”

He sounds so nostalgic, so soft at the edges; Patricia doesn’t know if she’s ever heard her son sound like that.

Because that’s who it is; why he seemed familiar even at a distance.

Even if she hasn’t seen or heard from Steven in nearly twenty years.

“And look at you both,” the other man, with the curly hair, he’s holding Steven by his arms, and the motion, the body language is…tender even before she hears the words filter over:

“Big and strong,” the man says, and then he’s cupping Steven’s cheek and Steven leans in so quick, like he trusts deeply, here: “fuckin’ beautiful.”

She can’t see it, not in the dark, but something tells her Steven’s smiling for the words. It makes her feel…uncomfortable.

Because it’s not as if they hadn’t seen it; she doesn’t know where Steven’s moved, where he ended up when he moved out while they were gone, left his key and a simple, terse little note about the furnace needing looked at—she only knows he’s nowhere near here, anymore, and she suspects there are some, like the former police chief and his wife, who know where he went but she never asks. She’s too proud for that.

But the point is: Steven doesn’t live in Hawkins anymore, and likely lives nowhere near Hawkins. But when The Post ran the engagement announcement it had only been implied, she’d never have been able to place is, but: when and S. Harrington and E. Munson announced their happy news in print, in a town that didn’t house people by those initials, even if it still housed residents by those family names?

Well. Patricia had suspicions. And she remembers the Munson boy largely because his hair was an unmistakable mess.

Apparently some things didn’t change.

“This,” the Munson boy, because that’s who it is, that’s who’s still cradling her son so close and so gently: “this was the first place I knew you wanted me.”

Steven’s head, she sees, still tilts just so when he’s baffled.

“What?”

“I knew you loved me like I love you, I knew that way before but you,” and the Munson boy, he pulls his hand across his face like the night isn’t doing the hiding for him. Preposterous, really.

“The urchins were inside, we were going to grab more pop to bring in and you pushed me up against this very tree,” and the boy—man, they’re men, they’ve long been men and Patricia doesn’t want to pry up the implications of how she saw no part of the becoming part of that process with her own eyes—but the man’s voice is so warm, so…smitten.

It should be nauseating. Another thing she doesn’t want to pry at is why it…isn’t. At least not quite.

“Couldn’t wait, you said, couldn’t keep you hands off me,” and he’s turning Steven, walking him back against the tree as he speaks the words, like he’s reenacting something nigh-sacred.

“And I knew that I was out of my mind with wanting you like that, on top of loving you more than fucking life baby, but,” and Munson, she can see the way he breathes in his deep for the heave in the line of his back, and she can see the way he…brushes the line of his nose back and forth against Steven’s.

Who still has her father’s nose.

“You were hard as soon as you pinned me,” and Patricia frowns at the glass, when she hears that; and she barely hears is, in fairness, it’s pitched low even as they think they’re alone which is the least they can do but they are not alone and Patrician does not need to be subjected to—

“And it was like a light switch, or a lightning bolt,” the Munson boy—they’re boys they are still boys—but the Munson boy whispers it, and sounds like he’s wondering at it;

“He loves me,” he breathes, the line of his back breathing so deep again; “and he fucking wants me.”

And no, Patricia does not need to hear that at all, but.

There is a part of her, buried somewhere, who…does miss the idea of wanting. Of being wanted. In the abstract.

“You’re absurd,” Steven snorts and oh; oh, she remembers that tone, that testy little snark that always riled Richard enough that he’d largely stomped it out of the boy but oh: Patricia did love when Steven failed to rein it in.

Because it always reminded her that Steven was her son.

She doesn’t intend to start rubbing at her chest, but it…it feels kind of tight, there, just now.

It aches, there. Just now.

“I love you,” and Steven’s voice, she’s never heard him speak with that much feeling, and it’s difficult not to…to react to even just overhearing, to eavesdropping, though in fairness: it is, again, her property.

“And I want you,” Steven leans in, and kisses at Munson’s cheek with such affection, a devotion that’s obvious, near-blinding even in the dark; “just as much now as then,” and then Steven, Steven—

He laughs.

He laughs and it’s such a light and carefree sound and it’s so foreign to Patricia’s ears that it almost makes her anxious, or something of the like.

“But then so much more, baby,” and the warmth in those words: those are foreign too.

Those feel strange to hear, not least in Steven’s voice which…

She thinks she may not have recognized, if the first thing she hear were these words, in this tone.

She’s not wholly sure how to sit with that suspicion.

“Ten days,” the Munson boy’s hands go to Steven’s hips and he rocks them back and forth a bounce in the motion, a levity.

“Ten days,” and Steven…no.

No: she would not have recognized that voice.

She would not have known her son.

“You’re gonna be my husband,” the Munson boy whispers, Patricia only hears because she’s trying to, now, she…she wants to even if it hurts unexpectedly, the tightness under her hand in her chest a pain, now, a small little stab when this man cups her son’s cheeks, cradles him so careful and so…so loving, undeniable even like this, and says what she suspected from that notice in the paper.

Steven is getting married. Steven is getting married and he is proud enough to flaunt it in a town who could never prove it, where he no longer has tied; to a a partner who is proud enough to do the same just as brazen, and she doesn’t know if she’s proud or put-off, but she does know here, now—

Steven is in love. And he is loved deeply in kind. And the person who loves him sounds in awe at the idea of pledging forever not as a contract, but maybe more as a privilege.

She wasn’t paying attention for a strand of seconds as she acknowledged this, and decided ultimately to stop trying to do anything deeper than just that.

But she sees them pull apart; they’d been kissing the entire time she’d been thinking it through.

She isn’t even interested in acknowledging the…niggling little feeling of that kind of prolonged affection, let alone the way they reach for each other, steady each other in the coming apart, as if they have no desire to wholly come apart.

The idea of trusting another pair of hands like it looks as if they do, in the dim of these early hours, is…another foreign thing.

“Okay, okay,” the Munson boy laughs, no, giggles; “let’s get out of here before the owners notice.”

And he turns, would meet her eyes if he could see her; she knows he can’t, knows she’s standing just beyond the capacity to be caught and how absurd, caught inside her own house.

But then he’s turned away again; the house, and whatever it holds, far less compelling than the man at his side.

“Wayne’s place?” Steven’s asking and the Munson boy grabs his hand, lifts it to his mouth.

“Yeah,” the Munson boy says so low, so soft and sweet; “we can hit some more landmarks before that bagel joint he likes opens, we can take him breakfast.”

“More landmarks?” Steven sounds baffled, but so very fond and his partner doesn’t let go of his hand once, reels him in to peck his cheek.

“Of course, sweetheart,” the Munson boy nearly…purrs, how ridiculous; “so many. Because we’ve got one hell of a story.”

But ridiculous or no: the moon shifts out from the clouds as they make to scamper off the lawn and Patricia sees her son’s face for the first time in decades, now, and oh.

Oh: she’s never seen him smile like that. Not…not once.

She turns away, because the sting in her chest burns behind her eyes, a little; because the joy on Steven’s face is…

It feels private; like something she’s not meant to see.

She goes to pour herself the coffee she’d largely forgotten, and, well.

She’s still going to talk to Richard about security, but maybe…

Maybe not just now.

permanent tag list (comment to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690

106 notes · View notes

tsukiiro · 4 months

Text

How am I supposed to live now that I realized Penelope is the name of a queen who is known for being an ideal of wife virtues and VADTD Penelope is assumed to be anything but that ToT

Name choice shouldn't hurt so bad and yet here we are. The author was probably like: let's make their names ironic.

But it also gives hope. Penelope is actually kind and faithful once you earn her trust. Callisto was a nymph turned into a bear as a punishment unfairly imposed upon her, but VADTD Kallisto killed a bear as if to tell us "look, I'm the master of my fate, I can avoid a bad ending".

why am I overanalysing this webcomic someone send help

#villains are destined to die #death is the only ending for a villainess #vadtd #webcomics

34 notes · View notes

orthodoxadventure · 4 months

Text

At Baptism an Orthodox is given the name of a saint, 'as a symbol of his entry into the unity of the Church which is not only the earthly Church, but also the Church in heaven.' An Orthodox has a special devotion to the saint whose name he bears; he usually keeps an icon of his patron saint in his room, and prays daily to him. The festival of his patron saint he keeps as his Name Day, and to most Orthodox (as to most Roman Catholics in continental Europe) this is a date far more important than one's actual birthday.

An Orthodox Christian prays not only to the saints but to the angels, and in particular to his guardian angel. The angels 'fence us around with their intercessions and shelter us under their protecting wings of immaterial glory'.

-- Kallistos Ware, The Orthodox Church

#Kallistos Ware #Christianity #Orthodox Christianity #Patron Saint #Guardian Angel

31 notes · View notes

deathlessathanasia · 1 month

Note

it’s seems kinda weird to hate Zeus and Hera for the wrongdoings they did to mortals but in the same breath defend the actions of Apollo and Artemis

Absolutely. Hera is a bitch for punishing women and taking her rage out on children for their parents' misdeeds but Artemis is a feminist icon even though she does the same sort of things. Honestly, how many people whine about Artemis killing Niove's daughters in order to punish their mother or killing Ariadne or punishing Kallisto or turning all animals against Polyphonte because Aphrodite made her mate with a bear? It's also funny when people single out Zeus for being promiscuous or a sexual predator as if most of the other gods are any different.

#ask #greek mythology #greek gods

18 notes · View notes

elefsina · 2 years

Text

15 days of deity devotion: Artemis

Day 1: Basic Introduction

Artemis is the goddess of many great things and incredibly important to me - and I want to use the next 15 days putting her in the spotlight she so very much deserves.

Who is Artemis?

In literature she is listed as goddess of...

the wilderness, animals & hunting; [1] includes: of the wilds, wild beasts and hunting, forest fires, lakes & springs, fishing, roads, and harbors

dawn & frost;

births, infants, children; includes childbirth, protector of the nursing infant, and protector of young girls

maidenhood & marriage;

maiden dance & song;

disease & sudden death; also includes sickness in dogs (rabies)

healing & good health;

ritual purification;

ancestral goddess and protector of the fatherland;

goddess of the Amazons and Hyperboreans. [2]

As you can see, this includes a great many more aspects than you'd expect. This does not even touch upon her connections to human sacrifice (see: Taurian Artemis), fertility (see: Ephesian Artemis), nymphs (in her retinue, along with other mortals and hunters), and many more that I will touch on these next two weeks.

Famous myths

Artemis’ mother Leto was hounded throughout her pregnancy by the jealous goddess Hera but eventually found refuge on the floating island of Delos. There she gave birth to Artemis who assisted her mother as midwife with the birth of her younger twin-brother Apollon.

Kallisto (Callisto) was a handmaiden of the goddess who Zeus seduced by assuming Artemis’ form. When Artemis discovered the girl was pregnant she transformed her into a bear and exiled her to the wilds.

The handsome giant Orion was a companion of the goddess but her jealous brother Apollon tricked her into killing him with a distant bow-shot. In her grief Artemis placed him among the stars as the constellation Orion.

When the Aloadai (Aloadae) giants tried to storm Olympus, Artemis assumed the form of a doe and raced between them, causing the pair to cast their spears, miss, and strike each other dead.

The hunter Aktaion (Actaeon) spied upon the goddess as she was bathing with her nymphs at a spring. Angered, she transformed him into a stag and had him torn apart by his own hounds.

The giant Kalydonian (Caledonian) Boar was sent by Artemis to ravage the lands of King Oineus as punishment for neglecting her in his sacrifices to the gods.

As the Greek fleet were preparing to sail for Troy, King Agamemnon offended Artemis and she becalmed the waters, preventing their departure. To appease the goddess, the king was forced to sacrifice his own daughter Iphigenia. [3]

[1]: Homer, Iliad; Homer, Odyssey; Homeric Hymn 27 to Artemis; Homeric Hymn 5 to Aphrodite; Pindar, Dithyrambs Heracles the Bold; Aeschylus, Agamemnon 140 ff; Aeschylus, fragment 188; Aristophanes, Frogs 1358 ff; Aristophanes, Thesmophoriazusae 144 ff; Callimachus, Hymn 3 to Artemis; Pseudo-Apollodorus, Bibliotheca 1.21; Apollonius of Rhodes, Argonautica; Ovid, Fasti; Seneca, Hercules Furens 406 ff; etc., etc.

[2] rest of the sources can be found here; link

[3] summary as found on theoi.com

Link to the original post by @noctivague

#artemis deity #artemis goddess #artemis worship #artemis #helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic reconstructionism #15 days of deity devotion #own post

168 notes · View notes

pixel-concept · 2 years

Text

Kallisto the Bear - Golden Fields, Arkadia

#kassandra #ac odyssey #eagle bearer #kassandra of sparta #assassins creed odyssey #misthios #ac finest #virtual photography #kassandra the eagle bearer #assassin's creed odyssey #ac photomode #assassins creed

155 notes · View notes

lunaevangeline · 2 years

Text

Callisto

written for @ob-levi-on ❤ (sorry it took a while, I hope you like it)

warning: Oikawa Tooru x fem!reader; hurt to comfort

Derived from Greek κάλλιστος (kallistos) meaning "most beautiful". In Greek mythology Callisto was a nymph who was loved by Zeus. She was changed into a she-bear by Hera, and subsequently became the Great Bear constellation.

The first time you saw him, it was the word beautiful that defined him. There was a friendly match on Aoba Johsai's volleyball court. The bleachers were full of spectators, it was loud. Cheers and shouts can be heard, especially when the setter plays, the girls' screams will intensify.

That place was not your usual place as you prefer a more tranquil place. With eyes gleamed with passion, his hands were flexing to set the ball, and a smile plastered on his face in the euphoria of scoring. You cannot deny the fact that you were captivated at the moment.

He's still the same guy he was in high school, but with tanned skin and a more athletic form. He looks more mature in his mid-20s, but his grin is still familiar. You watch him play, basking in the shade of the sunset. He wipes his glistening sweat and exchanges compliments with his teammates.

You once again concentrate on the majestic heavenly body which is about to lie beneath the horizon. Mix and ooze another paint to mimic the scenery while the sand grains massage your bare feet. This is a beautiful serene time to end your day.

Day by day, you come to the white sandy beach at the same hour. And you can always find him in the same arena. It seems that the universe is on your side as you continue to cross his path all the time. Unconsciously, you started to include the beach volleyball team in your painting.

"What a beautiful painting." Too lost in your thought, the man you've been thinking about was already standing right in front of you.

It only starts with a single compliment that leads to hello and self-introduction. Even though you went to the same high school, you were just an acquaintance. You prefer to start fresh - it will be awkward if he doesn't remember you. And he plays along with you.

"My name is Oikawa Tooru," he said.

You tell him your name in exchange, taking his hand outstretched hand; it's bigger and warmer than yours. There's a sense of friction from meeting and parting with his hand. Some other time, you meet him again during his usual beach volleyball match.

At first, all the banters were light. You giggle at his expression when he failed to reach the ball. He tells you so many silly theories and during his break, he will eagerly explain some volleyball techniques.

But as time goes by, slowly but surely he peels off, showing his true self. He's much more profound than the facade - the smoothness of his ice shell where an ocean of deep feeling lies.

He tells you how he used to push himself unhealthily, to the point where he put himself at risk. He tells about his insecurity and how he has dealt with it and is still working on it. His vulnerability makes you want to give him a hug, which you keep alone to yourself.

Sharing the sunset with him and watching the ethereal sunlight are the moments you look forward to everyday. A precious moment with an important person that you want to hold so dearly. You didn't know he can be even more beautiful with the proximity, to find that there are freckles that spread out like tiny stars on his face.

Unfortunately, today the person who shares the sunset with him is not you. There's already a beautiful woman giggling beside him, casually pinching his cheek while letting out a carefree laugh. She looks much more mature but still freshly beautiful, her long brunette hair waves gracefully as the wind rises.

She's the definition that age only flourishes her with grace. And in the sunset light, her head resting on his broad shoulder. Their interaction was too close to your liking. But who are you to feel even a glimpse of jealousy?

You walk away from the beachside with a weight on your feet. Something burns in your chest, you never know you want him so bad, to be someone who has significance in his life. It makes sense why Zeus come to snatch Callisto away because of her beauty and his own curse, love. Even when he had to deceive those around him.

The next day you come again to the beach, sitting bench aways from your usual place, seeking for therapy by painting the sunset again. Today's sunset is painfully pink as she’s is in love, a bit contrast to your broken heart.

But your presence isn’t getting unnoticed to the volleyball player with a number 13. He comes up to you and sits right beside you, admiring your look everytime you graze another paint on your canvas. If only you notice his gaze, he is in awe and love struck.

He asks why are you not sitting at your usual place. Your eyes still glued to the canvas from the start, ignoring his intense look because you fear those brown orbs will enchant you, making you fall all over again.

You half-heartedly answer with an argument that you need to take this spot since people were blocking the view.

"Besides, I thought today you were with your girlfriend again," you add, biting the inside of your cheeks. You try to speak in the most neutral tone, not realizing you're totally a terrible liar from your slightly pouted lips and furrowed brows.

Now all you can hear is Oikawa chuckle that confused you, successfully gathering your attention to him. You meet his teasing eyes and infamous grin.

"As I remember, I don't have any girlfriend. The last girl I met yesterday was my sister. It's been a while since the last time she visited Argentina, I missed her so much."

"Besides, what if the girl I want to be my girlfriend is sitting right in front of me?"

Under the hues of the beautiful sunset, you're dumbfounded. He pierces right into your heart, heat creeping up your cheeks. Because you didn't expect that beautiful Callisto will catch you first. While you always think every aspect of him is so dazzling, he believes you're the most beautiful one.

masterlist

taglist: @hyeque @passionateuchiha @crystal-lilac @ohtobiors @sabyss @miya-dynasty @oikawas-milk-bread @wolffmaiden @wayyen @justheretoaskandread @filledasaf @momochimo @simpforerenn @sweetkoshi @suckerforsugawara

216 notes · View notes

maria-aegyptiaca · 2 years

Photo

Kallisto transforming into a bear

#kallisto #ancient #greek #pottery #my uploads #redfigure

108 notes · View notes

cassianus · 2 years

Text

Prayer is superior to all good works. It begets tears of repentance, greatly contributes to peace in one’s thoughts, leads one to think only of God, who is the ultimate Peace, and brings forth the love of God. Prayer alone purifies the rational part of the soul through the vision of God, who causes the purification of the angels; it also preserves the desiring part of the soul in purity before God, for by associating and conversing with God, who is infinitely and supernaturally good and beautiful by nature, it joins all desire to God; prayer also soothes irascibility inasmuch as it causes it to fall down before God in beseeching and supplication, and humbles the soul through this dependence on God. For no one who beseeches and supplicates God can bear a haughty or irascible spirit. Hence, virtually all the powers of the soul and all its energies, both practical and noetic, are purified and restored by pure prayer, and all the more so when it is accompanied by both the contemplation of God and the subsequent divine eros within the life and practice of stillness, as we have described above. Let your mind turn its thought and gaze within, to the place of the heart from whence weeping springs while you calmly breathe in during prayer, and let it remain there for as long as it can. For this is greatly beneficial and induces constant and profuse weeping, abolishes the captivity of the intellect, brings about noetic peace, becomes an incentive to prayer, and helps you to find prayer of the heart with the help of God and the grace of the Life-Giving Spirit in the name of our Lord Christ Jesus.

Saint Kallistos Telikoudes

ON THE PRACTICE OF HESYCHASM

Volume 5 of the Philokalia

33 notes · View notes

unfoldingrose · 1 year

Text

Artemisia p. 1 :: Nervine

[Photo cred:: Native Here Nursery:: Artemisia Douglasiana]

KEY:

Underlined green text = links

Pink = anagrams [orthographically, phonetically or syntactically]

Bold = emphasis for discussion

Italic = credit

Note: Please read the links as well

Artemisia is a rhizomatous weed belonging to the Asteraceae family (Daisy family). While there are several species of Artemisia, the one I will be highlighting is Mugwort (Artemisia Vulgaris). Most of my experience is with the wild American species Artemisia Douglasiana and Artemisia Suksdorfii. Mugwort thrives in disturbed soils, and does its deepest work in disturbed bodies. Its aggressive rhizomes can overwhelm and kill roots of surrounding plants. I describe the leaves as flame shaped, with a silver back. Its volatile oil content is why Mugwort has a lengthy list of uses throughout the world.

First, I want to give some backstory on the name of Artemisia. Artemisia stems from Greek goddess Artemis. Delve into the article Becoming Classical Artemis: A Glimpse at the Evolution of the Goddess as Traced in Ancient Arcadia as means to gain more understanding about Mugwort’s functionality both physically, and spiritually- thru the characteristics of Goddess Artemis.

Goddess Artemis’s original prehistoric form was that of an animal-shape. She “appeared as a goddess of wild beasts, especially those who live in remote places in wooded mountains,” and also went by the alias ‘Kallisto.’

Below are some notes to further illustrate Artemis’s origins

Kallisto ~ bear-nymph::

teen girls considered ~little bears::

Artemis Orthia ~ bear figurine//Orthia, meaning straight, upright, in proper order [[anagram Orthia::THOR::ROTH::AORTA]]

Artemis @ Kyrena ~ sacred law of pregnant women to offer sacrifice to the Bear before giving BEARth [[birth]]

Protectress of little girls and maidens until the age of marriage; responsible for safe delivery of children

Now, I’m taking you deeper into the bold words from above. To start, it seems in the article that the primary animal goddess Artemis took form in was a bear. This is important because I learned from an #Oracle that the midbrain, our forward most portion of the brain stem, likens itself into the shape of a bear...funny how that works. I consider this key to grasp how and *where* Mugwort behaves when administered to a person. Succinctly, the midbrain has many functions, and is a continuation of the olfactory cortex responsible for memory [[dream]] processing and smell. The midbrain is considered “archipallium” in origin- which is to say phylogenetically the eldest region of the brain’s cerebral cortex. In the same way, Mugwort is called “the oldest of plants” in Charm of the Nine Worts. Mugwort’s classification as a nervine is due to easing anxiety, nervousness, and primal fears held in the midbrain. The source of this stress may exist due to trauma, karma, *generational or otherwise.

To take things further into the nervine properties of Mugwort, lets step into its signature silver-flame leaves. The Force of the metal Silver is alkhemically attributed to the Moon; on the periodic table Silver is #47. Native silver is mostly found in earth’s crust, and alloyed::allied with gold, argentite, and chlorargyrite. Silver is rarely found standalone- it is usually coupled with metals such as Copper (Venus), Gold (Sun), Lead (Saturn), and Zinc. Therefore, I surmise that Mugwort pairs well with other plants that are ruled by Venus (Copper), Sun (Gold), and Saturn (Lead). A Mugwort person may also need to increase the Zinc in their diets in tandem with the herb. I recommend oysters and fish for ZInc, but I will discuss that in another article.

In alchemy, refined Oil of Silver “cleanses the receptor sites deep within the limbic system, lowers accumulated stress hormones long enough for the brain to generate new neural pathways that strengthen positive thinking” when ingested. Kymia Arts.

Mugwort’s “flame” shaped leaves makes known the ‘temperature’ and tastes of Mugwort. Warming, pungent, and bitter. This warmth, according to Sajah Popham, is a rare quality in a nervine plant, as most of them are cooling. In this way, Mugwort is not only associated with the Moon, but also fiery sister Venus. With the heat of Venus, it is no coincidence that Mugwort responds well when burned and smoked. It has been recorded several times as a smokeable herb, and even a Kanabyss replacement. In Traditional Chinese Medicine, practitioners use Mugwort in Moxibustion. The special preparation of a flammable Moxa releases fragrant, medicinal oils. According to TCM, this heat warms up various channels in the body and dispels cold, promotes blood circulation, strenghtens Qi, and more. I also say experiment with taking dried or fresh Mugwort in steam rooms and sauna.

Below is the mental/psychological picture of one who benefits from Mugwort.

Excerpt from Sajah Popham’s Mugwort Materia Medica:

- Dyslexic, difficulty recognizing words but has complex thoughts - Disorders of sleep and imagination - Body seems to be asleep, but mind is awake - When they sleep deep they have vivid dreams

.... - Lies awake in bed for long periods of time, thinking, imagining - Epileptic seizures, sensitivity to light, sleep disorders - Irritation of the nervous system

…

“… Dorothy Hall profiles the Mugwort person as being “highly intelligent with complex thoughts that are difficult to describe, speech disorders and dyslexia, highly elevated senses, sensitivity to light and sound, with great difficulty getting deep sleep. It is suited to people in whom the intuitive, psychic, psychological, creative, and artistic side of the mind is highly developed, but who have trouble with expression, or with the world around them.” These are all qualities that we would associate with an excess of vata, or wind/ tension, to connect this description to our energetic qualities above.

In addition to the higher mental qualities of Mugwort, I consider Her to be a Dream Modulator. She has the ability to lessen or increase frequency of dreams. As a dreamer myself, I noticed deeper sleep and reduced dreaming while taking mugwort. However, the dreams I *did* have- the messages provided me with clarity. In an individual who dreams infrequently, or desires to dream more, Mugwort opens them up to the dream world, and increases their dream intensity.

Dream Modulation Notes:

- Soothes the hyperactive & nightmarish dreamer trapped in the astral; allows them to get real rest

- Increases dream activation in those disconnected from the dream realm - Opens one to wisdom when dreaming - Allows for messages to really get the thru the mesencephalon (aka Midbrain) and heal

#Artemisia #Materia Medica #Ma'ateria Meda #Mugwort #PCOS #Nervine #Alkhemy #SIlver #Bear #Venus #Moon #my words #herbalism

14 notes · View notes

broken-synchronicity · 2 years

Note

I was, talking about when the FGO crew come in and how Pretender!Kal like, came into existence. Sorry for the confusion.

*cracks knuckles* OK! Here's what I have so far in this AU

Under a cut so I don't clog anyone's Dash

Callisto: The Origin of the Nymph

FGO wise, Callisto follows her Myth pretty closely; She's a (favorite) attendant of Artemis, Zeus happens, she's kicked out of Artemis' attendance for being pregnant, Hera turns her into a bear, Arcas attempts to kill her because he doesn't know it's her, they get turned into constellations by the mercy of Zeus.

The after is where Fate comes in; After a long time in the heavens as a Constellation, Callisto wishes, with all her being, to be allowed the chance to be anything else than this, a barely remembered myth, in a half remembered constellation.

This wish is heard, by a being simply called The Gentle Elder God. It had watched Earth for eons, and had heard Callisto's fervent wish. It approached Callisto with a deal; it will help Callisto find life on Earth, in a new vessel, similar to a reincarnation. A do over of sorts. In exchange, it wishes to go with Callisto, give her the power to protect herself from beings that wish to trick her, should the need arise. It wishes to see the world it has watched for so long, closer.

The two will cease to exist in the forms they are now, never to return to them, and be born as something other than this.

Callisto agrees.

(The Grail registers a new Servant)

And so begins the life of Kallisto Verdreiss, Old God Nymph Servant Mage Human of Earth.

Kallisto: Twisted Awakening

Kallisto lives an average life on Earth, has a normal family in the Midwest with all that entails. They have friends, play sports and games, go to school, and they eventually graduate high school.

(They don't know about Servants and Mages and the Holy Grail. The Gentle Elder was thorough in his choice to give Callisto what was deemed normal.)

It's here that, one day, Kal finds themself waking in a coffin, a strange cat creature demanding things of them in a language they don't entirely understand.

And so begins the tale of Twisted Wonderland.

The Prologue pretty much starts the same, right up until the Dark Mirror tries to sort Kal.

It does not go well.

The Mirror peers into Kal's soul, see the incomprehensible mass of Elder God within Kal, and becomes terrified. It quickly declares it cannot and will not sort an Elder God and vanishes, leaving the whole assembly baffled, and Kal completely confused, only understanding the word for God.

Lilia, having experienced a great number of things... Both the consequences of forbidden magics and wars, though not quite a Grail War, as it doesn't exist in Twst, but something similar, Servants included.

Lilia has to hold back in screaming at Crowley who summoned a damn Elder God on campus, why did you bring it here, send it back send it back send it back-

He holds back only because this God in human skin looks just as confused and terrified as the students do. Crowley beelines for Lilia and begs him to talk to Kal because they don't speak Common.

It's as painful an experience for both sides as you can imagine. Lilia is practically dissociating as he stiffly, haltingly explains to Kal what just happened, while Kal initially struggles to comprehend what Lilia is talking about, until Lilia asks if Kal is, perhaps, a Rogue Servant.

A lock clicks open in Kal's mind, and oh, oh they're a pseudo-Servant. The partial bundle of half implanted half remembered knowledge bursts in Kal's head like a abscess

It's not an easy revelation for anyone. Nor is that fact the Mirror can't send them back.

Still, Kal has nowhere to go, and they are wearing the ceremonial robes. Whether anyone likes it or not, Kal has to stay.

From there, the story moves forward pretty normally, with the exception of Kal's capacity to use recreations of other Servant's abilities. Kal has to explain Earth Magecraft to the best of their abilities to the staff, with some input from Lilia. Though, at the start, Kal has barely any access to said Servant abilities, or they risk backlash that could kill them instead.

(Ace would absolutely forget that the person he's just tried to make fun of is a vessel to an Elder God.)

I think, for all intensive purposes, the proper FGO entrance into the story would be like Events are in game; taking place at a vague point in time. Placing it in Canon, well, it would likely happen post Ignihyde-pre Diasomnia, as Lilia still would have issues trusting Kal completely, but would no longer be outright terrified of them.

Arcas: Lost Polestar

I just thought of this as I was writing this, but the first time Arcas appears to Kal would be at the VDC, as someone from RSA.

Arcas, initially, tries to become close to Kal, seeing as he's a rogue Archer Servant pretending to be human and Kal a pseudo-Servant. Kal, still only holding fragments of the memories of Callisto, and still struggling to come to terms with their status as a pseudo-Servant, allows him to since he's the only one who can actually understand.

(Or, at least, the only one who gave them a positive reaction at first glance. Lilia is still a sore topic.)

They would meet up in the town on Sage Island when school let's out, as Arcas promised at the end of the VDC to help Kal figure out w h a t t h e f u c k i s g o i n g o n with the twst world. Arcas is supportive, and Kal feels like finally they're getting somewhere.

It is a lie.

Arcas isn't a rogue Archer, as he's been pretending; he's a rogue Foreigner. And the God in possession of him has had it in for Kal's God since the beginning of existence. And this God is as twisted and evil as they come. It's tricked Arcas into a contract on the grounds that Kal's God is the evil one chaining his mother to it and having them go through all this bullshit in Twst. If he kills the other God, his mother will be free and join them.

Though he has to kill the "vessel" first.

Chaldea: Through the Twisted Looking Glass

Chaldea would have to be post LB6, as Oberon would need to there for the Pretender Class to be a thing. It also would be an event chapter, like Murder at the Kogetsukan, or the Lady Reines Case Files

However, it is possible to foreshadow their arrival to Twisted Wonderland as far back as LB5 with another character I've ended up creating thanks to Gluten:

Avenger Class Servant Callisto.

Rather than Callisto having the time to process their trauma and make the deal with the Gentle Elder, Avenger Callisto is plucked straight from the near end of her Myth, at the height of all her negative emotions. She hates most all Gods, but has a particular burning rage for Zeus. With what I currently have compiled of her, I feel she's a good fit for LB5.

(I honestly just wanted a Servant that has beef with Zeus in particular in LB5. It would have been perfect...!)

While Arcas is still masquerading as a good guy, Chaldea appears near NRC.

Kal and Lilia end up being the ones to be the go between between NRC and Chaldea, seeing as they're the only ones who understand what Chaldea is partially talking about.

At this point, Kal is surrounded by so many Servants that they get easily overwhelmed, so they tend to run off when they think Lilia has it handled, though Lilia isn't handling it much better. It makes Guda ask if Lilia is Kal's Master, which earns them a chilly, negative reply.

Someone asks if Kal is really the only Servant here, seeing as there has to be a connection to the Grail for them to be able to be here at all. Kal joyfully admits to Arcas being here, to which Lilia only raises a brow at.

Kal goes into long detail about Arcas and Callisto as they know from Myth, memory, and Arcas' testament, which gives Lilia a new perspective into Kal. Kal agrees to see if they can get Arcas to come meet them.

This is where Arcas starts to get a little... off.

He starts talking about if they should leave Twst, as the two of them aren't actually connected to Twst so it wouldn't harm them if they get cut off. He could take them and they could leave behind all this nonsense and be together as a family again and be free.

Kal... is very much not ready to leave Twst. They've come to care about everyone here too much. When they say they'll think about it, they starts getting a bad vibe from Arcas and leaves ASAP.

At this same time, Chaldea (read: Sherlock) is asking the rough same of Lilia: if Kal isn't linked to any Master, nor is attached to Twst, they could probably come with Chaldea when they leave. This makes Lilia pause in thought. Because for as terrified he is of Kal being a Servant, he knows Kal has never done anything to harm anyone, hell has more often than not been the keystone to saving the students who OB. He thinks about the interactions he witnessed or heard about.

Kal had always been genuine in everything. Had made the whole school more united. If they left...

His heart twists in a way it hasn't in a very long time. The realization slams into his head like a brick.

He cares about Kal. For all he's still wary, he cares about Kal.

Chaldea absolutely cannot have Kal if they don't want to go.

Sherlock merely smiles benignly, have found an answer to an unasked question.

It's at this point that Kal comes back from meeting with Arcas, looking somewhat panicked. They quickly ask what happened.

"I think... something's wrong with Arcas-"

That's all they get out before something, someone, begins raining down attacks on Chaldea.

Arcas has revealed himself and his intent. First he'll destroy Chaldea, the biggest threat, then destroy NRC, and when Kal no longer has anything to be attached to, he'll kill them and the god binding them and set his mother free.

In the safety of Chaldea, Kal is not handling this information well. They sit inside Chaldea with Lilia, dazed and half way to dissociation, as Guda calls for Servants to fend off Arcas. Both Chaldea and NRC are in danger simply because they exist as they do. It wouldn't have mattered where they existed, so long as they existed as Kal and not Callisto, Arcas would come after them.

Maybe... Maybe they should give themself up...?

Lilia, who has been watching Kal breakdown and reach that conclusion, of all things, just as he realizes just how much he cares-

"I shall declare here. Your body shall serve under me. My fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail."

(I will take you as my Servant,)

All eyes fall to Lilia as stands before Kal, hand stretched forward in offering, and says only one singular fragment of the summoning incantation for Servants, Kal staring up at him with wide eyes.

"If you will submit to this will and this reason…… then answer!"

(If you will have me as your Master.)

The whole of Chaldea watches as Kal slowly, hesitantly, reaches to take Lilia's hand in both of their own, eyes both somehow distant and focused at the same time.

One last lock clicks open. Light bursts between them.

Go on.

This time, we will be able to protect what is ours.

No lies shall beholden us.

No secrets shall bind our fate.

Never again.

A new bond is forged.

"... Are you... my Master...?"

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst language barrier au #i... forgot this was in my drafts #nonnies getting curious!#I'm so sorry anon #here take this in celebration for 500 followers first #Script Annotations #Pretender!Kal AU

23 notes · View notes

blue-mono · 1 year

Note

The price of devotion AND the lynx and the bear if you have time! :)

Thank you for the ask - I'll always make time where I can! ☺️

The Price of Devotion is a Kassandra/ Aspasia AU where Kassandra is Deimos. Aspasia can't stand her. In her struggle to keep her grip on her Cult leadership, she needs to bring Deimos down, but in doing so she develops an obsession that turns into a different kind of passion entirely. It doesn't help that Deimos very clearly fancies her as well.

Kassandra being the arrogant charmer she is, is a constant flirt, but in every attempt to woo Aspasia she happens to undermine her more.

They're both downright evil and the drama is extremely messy, but I just had to shove my two problematic faves together.

I'll post the first chapter this weekend if I can manage my time properly (never likely).

The Lynx and the Bear is a shorter spin-off from the novel I've been trying and failing to write since lockdown.

The story follows two warriors, Petra and Kallisto (no relation to the real Kallisto the Bear, her mum was just inconsiderate like that). They're the two brightest young prospects of the Amazons and both are touted to become the future of the tribe.

One night, their rivalry boils over, and when their feud threatens to create a rift in their community, they're exiled on the condition that only one may return when the other is dead. But to survive the roads rife with wolves and bandits, and the chill of the Baltic peninsula, they quickly find that they need to work together.

#ac odyssey spoilers #wip game

4 notes · View notes

orthodoxadventure · 4 months

Text

We honour the Mother on account of the Son

Mariology is simply an extension of Christology. The Fathers of the Council of Ephesus insisted on calling Mary Theotokos, not because they desired to glorify her as an end in herself, apart from her Son, but because only by honouring Mary could they safeguard a right doctrine of Christ's person. Anyone who thinks out the implications of that great phrase, The Word was made flesh, cannot but feel a certain awe for her who was chosen as the instrument of so surpassing a mystery. When men refuse to honour Mary, only too often it is because they do not really believe in the Incarnation.

But Orthodox honour Mary, not only because she is Theotokos, but because she is Panagia, All-Holy. Among all God's creatures, she is the supreme example of synergy or cooperation between the purpose of the deity and the free will of man. God, who always respects human liberty, did not wish to become incarnate without the free consent of His Mother. He waited for her voluntary response: 'Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to your word' (Luke i, 38). Mary could have refused; and if she had refused, the Incarnation would not have taken place. As Nicholas Cabasilas said:

The Incarnation was not only the work of the Father, of His Power and His Spirit . . . but it was also the work of the will and faith of the Virgin . . . Just as God became incarnate voluntarily, so He wished that His Mother should bear Him freely and with her full consent.

If Christ is the New Adam, Mary is the New Eve, whose obedient submission to the will of God counterbalanced Eve's disobedience in Paradise. 'So the knot of Eve's disobedience was loosed through the obedience of Mary; for what Eve, a virgin, bound by her unbelief, that Mary, a virgin, unloosed by her faith,' 'Death by Eve, life by Mary'.

-- Kallistos Ware, The Orthodox Church

#Kallistos Ware #Theotokos #Blessed Virgin Mary #Christianity #Orthodox Christianity

26 notes · View notes

thebarbariansshadowprincess · 7 months

Text

Chapter 3 – The Hunting Birthday

Word Count: 995

(Y/N) looked around, her eyes sad. He wasn't there. She couldn't find him anywhere. There were only those nobles that were all over her all the time. And there were also the younger Eckharts, but she liked them. They were her friends, Yvonne was like her sis. She was happy to have another girl company with her other than the maids and the empress. Although young, the little princess understood that the maids were only doing their job and that the empress disliked her so, so much, so having the ducal princess with her made her happy.

However, she still wanted her brother more. Where was he? He said he was going to hunt for something to give to their youngest brother, but that was ages ago and he still wasn't back yet.

“(Y/N)?” She heard Yvonne call her, but she was still looking at the crowd.

“He still ain't back.” Said Reynold. “I already told you that I'll tell you when he comes back, so you two can keep on reading that book.” The pink haired boy pouted, but the girl just slowly nodded.

(Y/N) was reading a book with Yvonne, a fairytale one. It had surprised everyone, since no one had taught her how to read and write, but she seemed to know already, although her vocabulary was lacking too much since she was still so young. However, this gave both girls something to do other than run around the imperial palace and the Duke's state, to which their older brothers were grateful for.

Just as she was about to read the next line, there was a loud bang that silenced everyone. Reynold quickly stood up on the chair he was on and on the tip of his feet to see over the crowd of adults between them and the origin of the sound.

“Hey! It’s the prince!” Reynold screamed to both girls. “He’s-” He was going to say something, but he stopped.

His face turned pale. Paler than he naturally was, but (Y/N) didn’t notice it. She just jumped off her chair and raced towards where her brother was. All the adults were too close, she had a hard time getting past them.

“Big brother!” She called him as she finally walked past them, but she froze at the sight.

Her brother was a mess, mostly due to the dirty and blood stains that were all over him. One one hand, was his unsheathed sword, also bloody. On the other, was a bear’s head. The bow he carried when he went to hunt was nowhere to be seen. Kallisto didn’t even notice her. He just walked forward, towards the pile of presents that were given to their younger brother. He climbed it and placed the head on top of the pile, blood running down and forming a pool on the bottom. The crown prince came down and turned to their brother and the queen.

“Happy birthday, brother.” The blond boy said, with a twisted smile on his lips.

The whole party was drowned in a deafening silence as the boy turned around to leave. As he walked down the path he came from, he saw his baby sister. She was looking at him with wide eyes, her face pale and her mouth open. They looked each other in the eyes for long seconds before the boy closed his eyes and walked away from the party. He didn’t look back and she didn’t call for him either.

“Dang it!” Kallisto punched this pillow.

He was upset. Not with the whole party thing. Not with those assassins. Not even that cursed bear. He was upset with himself. He failed his promise. He promised himself that he would take the best care of his baby sister. That she would be the most precious woman this world ever saw. That she would seem like an angel that came down from the sky for her gentleness and purity. That she would never see any of the dirt in the world until she became an adult. He promised himself that, and he failed himself. His sister saw him covered in blood and holding a bear’s head. She looked at him so terrified. He hated it. He hated himself for what he had done to her. How could he ever look at her again? She must be so terrified that she’ll never come close to him ever again!

“DAMN IT!” The crown prince screamed, throwing one last punch in the pillow before falling on top of it, tired.

Kallisto buried his face in the pillow to fight back the tears that threatened to spill. He should go to sleep. He really should, but whenever he closed his eyes, he could only see her terrified gaze at him. Maybe he should just stay up the night instead.

Knock, knock

The knocking on the door got his attention. It was so late. Who could it be?

“Who’s there?” He asked from his bed.

“Big brother?” A tiny voice called from out of the room.

That voice made him jump out of the bed and towards the door. He opened it fast and he froze as he saw his sister in front of him. She was using a light pink nightgown and holding a book in her tiny arms. Kallisto could only stare back at her before one of her hands grabbed his shirt.

“Big brother. Are you okay?” (Y/N) asked him in a whisper.

She was worried… about him? Despite what she saw?

“Are you not afraid?” He asked back, but she shook her head.

Then, she let go of him and showed him her book.

“If big brother can’t sleep, we can read a story and sleep together…” The girl said in a low tone.

Kallisto couldn’t help but smile at her. His smile was gentle, unlike the one from earlier.

“Sure.” He said as he pulled her in and closed the door behind them.

#kallisto regulus #callisto regulus #reynold eckhart #yvonne eckart #reader insert #death is the only ending for the villainess

1 note · View note