#ok the beast has been satiated | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theholycovenantrpg · 3 years

Photo

CONGRATULATIONS, PHOEBE! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF SALOME.

Admin Rosey: This was incredibly difficult. Both applications were stunning and shined in the limelight - but there were these small details, Phoebe, that you included that had us absolutely captivated. Salome, I think, is a difficult character to encompass so wholly while not overlooking the details. But you managed to do that, to tie her all together while not putting her in a package. The application was such a joy to read from beginning to end - the way that you tied so many different characters into her, into her future. It was an absolute thrill to read because I was able to see so much while still being tantalized by possibilities. I can’t wait to see how Salome shines on the dash! Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Phoebe

Age | 22

Personal Pronouns | She/her

Activity Level | Pretty active (6/10?) due to a national lockdown, but I’m a postgrad student so some days are busier than others.

Timezone | GMT

Triggers | REMOVED

How did you find the group? | I check out the ‘new rpg’ tag a few times a year & your graphics and then everything drew me in

Current/Past RP Accounts | Masha Vetrova @ ProchnostRPG

IN CHARACTER

Character | SALOME

What drew you to this character? | Typically I tend to go for characters who have a fundamental moral alignment of ‘good’ (even if it’s been a bit corrupted) so at first I was really drawn to Gabriel/Abaddon/Isolde. I even brainstormed them a bit before moving onto the demon bios.

But then I read Salome’s bio, and I really couldn’t get her out of my mind. There is something so delicious about her, so dastardly poetic. In a way, she’s as pure of heart as many morally good characters - patient, steadfast, true to herself. It’s just that her heart is a blackened one. A nature so rotted that even eternal damnation in Hell’s Abyss was not enough. The only fitting destiny was a demonic one, and the wings tore out of her body as if they’d been there, dormant, all along.

I know the story of Salome (thanks Oscar Wilde) & I just adore the way in which the bio weaves the biblical story into this world and this character. Salome the Temptress, unflinching as she demands the head of John the Baptist and damns all around her to Hell. This one line in particular from Rosey really, really captured it all for me:

No, the minute her mortal heart stopped beating and she opened her eyes to the fires of Hell, there was only laughter to be heard – pouring from her lips as melodic as a lark’s song, a stark contrast to the wailing and grinding of teeth.

Salome feels young and charming and spoiled and light and warm and content and this image - her descending into Hell, disrupting it with her peals of laughter - sums it all up. She is arrogant and uninhibited with her sins plain for all to see. But she is also clever. She is a girl who dances with the dead; demon through and through. She lets them openly see it so that they do not think to look closer. For if they did, surely they would see Salome was more damned than they’d ever envisioned? See that the open delight she projects - the laughter and fevered dancing, - all distract from a mind capable of cold, calm strategy? See that her hands are beautiful because they are stained with the first blood of this new world?

…All of which is to say that Salome the Temptress has worked that tempting magic of hers on me too - hook, line and sinker.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If it serves your guys’ plotting vision then absolutely! I’d just ask to write the death scene/have some say in the way it went down. (The person killing her off better be prepared for the fight of their lives).

FUTURE PLOT IDEAS

• (small) PLEASURES •

Grand plans and power grabs are all very well, but day to day (on the dash lol) Salome is ruled by small pleasures and indulgences. What was the point of forging this new world if not to luxuriate in it?

01. I’m very curious to see how her relations with all the other demons play out. Salome is by and large a solitary creature - the natural result of her arrogance - but I think there are some demons she favours more than others. I could see a potential friendship (or the lesser version of that bond) with ORIAS, for one. There were those who saw something akin to witchcraft in Salome too. There had been envy, when Orias was hailed the Original Witch, but even Salome has come to recognise the ungodly power that resides in them. They are one of the only creatures that Salome has any real respect for. She understands that there is value to learn in what Orias can teach.They call them the false prophet - it seems poetic that Salome is drawn to her. (So ! Much ! Potential ! Witchy ! Power !)

02. So too can I imagine Salome having a particular curiosity towards MAMMON. Hungry and dark and empty, Mammon is probably Salome’s demonic ideal. With mortal origins herself, they represent a different kind of demon – one she thinks is utterly beautiful. Their future ambitions could align, both with a deep, aching appetites, but I can also see her purely enjoying the unique company of them. Salome does not treat her ability with any real respect or caution; she sees the dead as a game. think she’d genuinely delight in Mammon mimicking her gift and the amusements that could follow. (Ok not to say I’m suggesting deal body party games but it’s very that)

03. Salome gets equal pleasure (if not a great deal more) from less-than-friendly relations. She pushes purely because other people’s irritation amuses her. I think her relationship with AZAZEL in particular could be very, very fun. Of all the demons, I can see Salome having a particularly petty dislike / jealousy of Azazel for a few many reasons.. A) they are both products of indulgence, daughters of parents (literally and figuratively) who spoiled them rotten. Similarities repel and all that. B) Azazel is part of the de facto royal family, favoured by JUDAS.. and DAMIEN .. and ABADDON .. and Salome has not ever handled that well. She watched on as they, along with the rest of hell, fell for her and thus a time-old grudge was born. C) Azazel forms part of the Holy Land’s rulership. A land that was won because of Salome (in her mind) and one she feels has rights of ownership too. I imagine that Salome genuinely despises that the role was given to Azazel of all demons. I - I just sense so many great opportunities for both bickering and battling.

04. Salome draws great pleasure from her own magnetism. Devotion has followed her throughout the stages of her life, but it too has come to wax and wane. It is there in BASTIEN though, and it’s one of the connections I’m most excited for. He satisfies her addiction, and in return she is both doting and cruel. There is some value in him politically, bu it’i more of a .. personal connection. That could change though. Or, perhaps a genuine fondness might develop, in the same way that other celestial beings seem to be fond of their animal companions. A muted form of possessiveness over his gaze and his wonderment (which may well manifest in Salome having a particular resentment towards EVANGELINE) . If he were to share out his devotion, or if it was curtailed by any harm coming to Bastien himself, Salome would not be happy. Perhaps his attentions have come to somewhat satiate her appetite and tentatively restrains her darkest needs - a fact that neither of them have realised. (!!!!!)

• (medium) OPPORTUNITIES •

05. There are some things she keeps to herself - at least for now. There’s a lot of potential for self-paras or connections with the wider RP plot. To me, Salome has something akin to true addiction inside of her. It was there from the moment of her mortal birth, and it worsened with each hit. Essentially, I think an inescapable plot point is that Salome is a lil’ bit bloodthirsty. I think this would largely be developed through my own musings and mortals who are just ‘extras’ to this RP, but I’d love to deal with the intricacies of Salome having to cover this habit. Maybe she continues to use others as scapegoats; maybe she chooses her victims with careful attention so that they go unnoticed; maybe she does it in such a way that implies the presence of a beast or daemonium.

( In fact, the concept of the DAEMONIUM is verrrrrrrrrry intriguing. Creates who inhabit corpses and do nothing but feed their hunger? Sounds like a character I know. This is a potential plot point that relies on your guys’ vision and some collaborative world-building, but I think there is definitely exciting potential to explore these creatures through Salome. Imagine the carnage of her trying (successfully or unsuccessfully) to out-possess them.)

06. I think Salome would take any opportunity to poison Infernum’s highest-ranking. This isn’t so much be her political ‘end-goal’, but an opportunity for some real entertainment. It would be a game, try and crack the kinship that exists among AZAZEL, JUDAS, DAMIEN and ABADDON; injecting a few words here, a few doubts there, and see if their loyalty lasts.. She knows Judas from a past life and has watched him oh so carefully overtheir many entwined centuries - I imagine she is a gnat to him, pushing all the right (and thus wrong) buttons. It would a sport to try and make his familial dynasty crumble. Perhaps she might attempt this by throwing doubt on to Abaddon in particular, whose aura contains a flatness that Salome cannot read. Salome doesn’t know of the goodness that lies in her, but perhaps she might find out. Regardless, I think Salome’s worst imaginable fate would be being locked in the Black Cells, unable to dance and revel in the world, so she harbours dislike for Abaddon anyway…

07. EPHEMERA is an opportunity that Salome had not anticipated. And let me tell you, boy do I adore this connection. It strikes me as a true clashing of teeth and spirits, but not as simple as one born from pure malice or hatred. Salome feels many things towards Ephemera, but she certainly doesn’t hate her - even if the ferocity between them implies otherwise sometimes. There’s a thin line between love and hate, as they say, though perhaps neither of those terms sum up Salome an Ephemera. It seems to be pure passion and temptation. I can’t say where this could lead without the thoughts of a possible Ephemera writer, but I’m sure it will be nothing short of explosive. I think this connection is the most Salome has ever felt towards another being, and that in itself is curious to her.

• (great) AMBITIONS •

The possible destinies of Salome. The following are all ways in which her story could play out, and all of them are quite dramatic. Who’s afraid of the big, bad plots….

08. Infernum technically has no throne. In order to thus claim it, perhaps one first has to be built? Salome would have no qualms choosing a side in another demonic cvil war. Why, if DAMIEN were to stake the claim of his birthright against JUDAS, he could count on Salome for support. If Judas were to live up to his title and betray the antichrist, he could count on Salome for support - if he got there before the other. Salome will happily help them consolidate a throne through bloodshed and betrayal. In fact, it will be her pleasure.

For through it all, Salome will be the demon who has thought to use MICHAEL. They are insufferable and righteous and (quite literally) archangel incarnate - really, if she had the chance, she knows that their blood would be the most utterly divine to spill - but they are useful. Undeniably powerful. Salome knows she must be careful here, but she enjoys the undisguised exasperation on their face. As if they have not yet thought to recognise the ambition that lies in both of them. If they helped her ascend to the throne of Infurnem, she would be a far more acquiescent to Caelum’s interests than the current leadership. Why? Because Salome would not act - would not even pretend to act - on behalf of demonic interests. If the best chance of her claiming ownership of the world depended on sharing it with Michael, then perhaps she would be willing.

09. But power can manifest in more than one way. She could follow such dreams, or she could become the world’s nightmares. And wouldn’t that be more indulgent? Where others hold power or peace as their prime ambition, Salome would get equal pleasure from the simple decay of all things. The world could rot and she would laugh - the dead are often better company than the living. Ultimately Salome would start another war without hesitation; she would sacrifice everything and everyone for the beautiful carnage of utter destruction. It had been so easy with the War of the Last Rites, but she had been disappointed when it ended in peace. That will not happen again; she will be ready next time. When all factions are suitably engaged, she will raise her own force and strike them all down together. — Such are her thoughts anyway. Thoughts that started developing when she met RYUK. To her, the power Ryuk holds is breathtaking. There is no other ability she desires quite as much. For if she were to contain both of their powers within herself, she would have dominion over a force so great that no living creature - mortal or immortal - could ever hope to defeat. The dead. It is a delicate strategy, but she has the patience for it. And if there was any who would spill the blood of a horseman just to see what happened, then it would surely be Salome.

10. Where there are mortals, there is faith. The relationship between Salome and the faith of the HUNDRED-EYED GOD intrigues me. In her mortal life, faith was an amusement. Its believers has been her playthings - perhaps they are again in this world. ISOLDE is as all prophets are; tempting. I think that Salome could potentially decide to join the faith – or give the impression to do so. Such a deceit would be fun and far from difficult - already she joins in on their rituals, her feet unable to stay away from any form of rhythmic movement, even ones more gentle than her usual tastes. A demon of relative influence, perhaps her faith would be welcomed amongst those most holy, perceived as a positive development in the faith’s recruitment. Perhaps she finds a currently unknown fellowship in the form of ESTIENNE, whose manipulation of the shadows surely speaks of some rot in his heart.

And all for one simple reason. Where there is faith, there are the faithful. Where there is the faithful, there is the potential for bloodshed so rich - so intoxicating - that she would play this long, patient game just to taste a singular drop. She has never been able to recreate the electrification of that first diabolical deed, when she claimed a saint’s head as her prize. She had danced and damned and thirsted ever since; the blood of an ALL-SEEING PRIESTESS might just quench such a need.

• (potential) DOWNFALLS •

Ah, but all of the above are just potential ideas. It is just as likely that Salome would be subject to some downfalls and some .. rude awakenings. I adore the fact that both MICHAEL and RYUK have such different perceptions of their connections. They are both far smarter than she gives credit. Michael is, ultimately, more powerful than Salome on more ways than one - they will surely outplay her as they have everyone, though she might be of some use to them too. In Ryuk, Salome has started a war she might live to regret - one she hasn’t even realised she’s fighting. She has perhaps been a little naive here, and it will be quite something when she realises.

There are other possible connections that could prove Salome’s downfall – or at least a be a hindrance. In my mind, it is GABRIEL, ZADKIEL and CAPHRIEL that she is most weary of. They each have a light to them that she does not care for, along with the arrogance present in all angels. I say in the following section that Salome has no fears; they represent the closest thing she has to possible concerns. I don’t think she yet knows any of them particularly well outside of the War, but she has thought of their powers. The latter two in particular harbour gifts that could, potentially, expose Salome, and thus she has developed a specific distaste for them. And of course, she probably finds them particularly fun to antagonise.

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation | [TW: Implied suicide in section I ]

I think a large part of my attraction to Salome is that she isn’t really driven by an external force. Partly she is driven by the deep appetite within her (which I’ve mentioned more in other parts of this application) but I also think her motivations stem from her own intrinsic nature; she is pushed by her own heart towards ambitions that are mere extensions of her character. I think there are three central aspects of her character that best explain her motivations and actions: a complete lack of fear, an overwhelming self-adoration and a deep, petulant intolerance of monotony. Together, they’ve created a woman - a demon - amply motivated to do any of the above listed plot ideas.. One who simply does as she wants for no reason other than want itself. Below I’ve given three early examples (set in BP) of these traits taking root (and rot):

I • For what use is fear to those who are damned?

It was said that Jesus’ tomb lay empty. Through the wind Salome heard whispers of women who’d gone to mourn and found nothing - only stone and airwhere a pierced and bloodied body should have lain. It seemed the proclaimed child of God had evaded corporeal death yet again; that the words of the old, tiresome preacher whose head she once cradled had proved true. Their claims and their preachings were not false as her father had accused - but really, had not Salome always known that? Was it not she who had delivered John’s salvation, cast him up to his venerated Heaven? And as it happened - as both the head and the soul of John his body - had not she felt her own moment of pure, divine bliss?

It brought clarity; there was no hesitation in her now. She stood alone, looking out upon the depths of the Galilee Sea with an unconfined grin spread wide upon her face. She had known, always known, that the boredom of this life was only temporary. The adoration she received on earth had grown dull, she sought new, greater opportunities for her talents. There had existed a deep craving inside for as long as she could remember, one that had become increasingly difficult to satiate. It told her that her destiny lay outside of Heaven, that both the prophet and her father the king had been right to look upon her with fear. For if John and Jesus had ascended upwards, could she not leap down into her own descent? The idea of it felt so simple, so natural, so potentially powerful. Neither death nor the the promise of damnation brought her anything but intrigue. She thought of the wicked and the cruel, of the infernal depths to which she was bound, and felt only satisfied.

Mortal though she was, Salome was not afraid. Why should she fear her own destiny? Why should she fear for those she left behind? Fear had no place in a heart without hope. With a simple step, she threw herself into the icy water and waited to reach the blackest depths below.

II • For what use is love to those who are satisfied?

Where there was Salome there was laughter - her own, that was - sharp, loud and melodic. When she first opened her mouth it had sliced through Hell and turned all of its eyes onto her. Rightly so, for she she had laughed as she’d evaded Abaddon’s grasp, clawing herself out of the Abyss of mortal souls and claiming a rightful place in the depths of Hell. The Morningstar, sat above all, had not yet even spoken when Salome had started to dance.

She could feel Hell’s eyes on her, and what better way to greet such attentions than with that she did best. She had reaped rich rewards for it before, and she would do so again. A fleeting glance at her naked body showed her this realm had not dulled her beauty but made magnified it, her skin aglow with the fiery light of hellfire. And so Salome danced, feverishly but deliberately, losing herself in the spirit of the moment. What could anyone do but simply bask in the splendor of her new existence? As she raised her arms above her head, a pair of wings cut through her flesh and slowly tore out of her. Iridescent, they unfurled as if they too had felt the call of her movement.

A feast of celebration had followed. Salome could only laugh in delight as she looked upon demonic faces of adoration, gazes more alike than different to those she had received on earth. Seated at the left-hand of Lucifer himself, she had slotted into the natural order of Hell as if it had been her descent that had been prophesied on earth. How many in Hell, with all its angelic origins, had the blood of a true holy man on their hands? Perhaps just herself – and, she supposed, the man sat to the right of the Prince. Judas Iscariot. The Great Betrayer. A man she had known of in her mortality, a follower who’d wrought a downfall more entertaining than any Salome had otherwise witnessed. He looked on at her with a hard glint in his eyes and she merely smiled back - for Salome understood why. Here she was, a fellow mortal in Hell with infernal wings protruding from her back where Judas had none. It all made such perfect sense; Salome was truly different. Truly transcendent. Made and marked by forces darker then most of Hell could stand. In that moment (and all moments thereafter), Salome was acutely aware of the true power that resided within her, spilling out through her beauty, allure and wretched talents. Why, she was utterly glorious.

III • For what use is peace to those who are bored?

Eternity stretched out in front of her; memories of the wouldn’t fade. Of all the differences between immortal and mortal existence, it was only the nature of time that had ever frustrated her. To Salome, the centuries had passed by in both unfathomable speed and agonising monotony, the linearity of earth dead and gone. It seemed that in the face of an infinite future, even Hell could drag. It operated in a stasis that had begun to suffocate her and, gradually, had awakened once again an appetite that had only been temporally satiated. Lucifer dictated balance and moderation where Salome saw no reason for restraint. He had given her duties like none earth had ever dared, and she didn’t care to fulfil them. She had even grown tired of her puppetry, tired of dancing amongst such frustratingly passive bodies. There was, in a place of corruption, nobody left to actually corrupt; no opportunity to taste innocent or holy blood.

Over time she came to sense the quiet seeds of unrest in Hell, and she was gladdened by them. Once again a wicked smile graced her face, once again she twirled around the pits of Hell in anticipation. There was no better cure for boredom than chaos, and once she’d caught the scent of it her hunt could not be stopped. It had proven easy to have the whispers diverted and delivered to her ears - so many were under her spell, either terrified or infatuated. So Salome came to learn of plans of razing Hell against its master, ripping through worldly divides and claiming the earth she once lived on. At last - she could have wept from delight. And most entertaining of all, Salome had snatched the dice into her her hands.

How easy it would be to join the dissenters, to war with them against the order of Hell that had shackled her. How tempting it was, to dash their plans by raising her own blade to the Morningstar and plunging the world into carnage without warning. How fun, the thought of taking all she knew to Lucifer and laughing as he rained down revenge on the demons he had been foolish enough to trust. Impatient with monotony; patient in the face of action. Salome did not yet know what she would do, and she found utter delight in the potential of it all.

PARA SAMPLE

The Holy Land was not suited to revelry. It lacked the vitalityand decadent excessthat a true celebration required. And really, wasn’t this her domain? Nobody got more unadulterated pleasure from a celebration than Salome - she doubted that even the festivities of the Stygian Moon would be of renown without her inputs. This particular affair was proving even more tiresome than she’d foreseen. Every year she stands under the Triune Moon and watches as solemn vows are sworn; every year she wonders why they could not just be done so in private, sparing them all this tedium. She had said as much to Damien before as they had departed the comforts of the Black Palace, and had received little more than a scowl in response. But she knows her point has more merit than they’d care to admit. How long before these promises of harmony are exposed as a farce? At least that year promises some true entertainment.

Salome thinks all this as she watches the stage in front of her, eyes lazily switching between the three figures who stand upon it. The Sun, the Moon, the Stars; every pair of eyes in the sweeping crowd are trained on them. Salome can feel them. Or rather, she can’t feel the usual warmth of infatuated gazes on her own skin. Here she stood amongst hoards of mortals and beings more lowly than herself, and none were paying her their usual bouts of attention. The only thing that prevented a quiet tantrum was the knowledge that she was far from alone in feeling this agitation. Her stare flickered from the stage towards the figures of both Michael and Judas, and she could not help but smile. To eyes that had repeatedly examined them over centuries, the rigidity of their bodies betrayed them. She was far from the only one who felt the absence of centrality, and that, at least, brought her some pleasure.

Still, she only has so much patience for ceremonies not directed at her. Yet no sooner did she shift to exit the crowd than did words delivered on the stage give her pause. Azazel’s voice, suitably haughty, repeating the typical sentiments of the Holy Land. This was the ‘Age of Peace’, Salome hears her say. Only the ‘cooperation of all factions and the formation of the tridium’ had rendered them ‘triumphant against the heretics who would cast all into darkness.’ This time she cannot hold in the delicate laugh that ripples through her. If only the annual repetition of such statements made them true. If only they knew of the true origins of the War that brought this so-called peace, of where the credit should rightfully lie. Though she knows it would be foolish - more than foolish - Salome can think of nothing but how simple it would be to stand above all and confess. She’d let them savour the details of her sins and her glories. She would laugh as they wilted under the weight of her revelations.

‘I’ve never seen you look so engrossed off of the battlefield.’

Her imaginings are cut off by quiet words from behind her. She needs not turn to identify the voice of Ephemera, familiar as it has come to be. Salome had, of course, seen her across the crowd - when did her eyes start to automatically seek her out so? - but marked her presence as an occupation for later. That Ephemera sought her out first is not necessarily unexpected, but certainly thrilling. There is no other presence that can so easily bring Salome out of a petulant mood, just as there is no other who can so easily put her in one. But she has found that where there is Ephemera, there is entertainment to be had.

“You have not seen me do many things,” she replies easily, as if they had long been having this conversation, “though I do believe I’ve offered.” And she has, more than once, tried to entice her with offers of dancing and hunting and enjoying all the vices of the world they fought for. She turns her head slowly to meet the watchful gaze of her once fighting-partner, a smirk on her lips as she widens her eyes in faux-innocence. They are two alike; mortals once but mortals no more, the first of their kinds. She knows Ephemera will not rise to her bait within the presence of other Angels, which only heightens her simpering expression. Salome has no such qualms about the thoughts of her own kin; their talk excites her, their gossip only confirms how many pay her heed. She has found no simpler joy than that of walking into the Black Palace and leaving excited whispers in her wake.

“I’m sure you’ll agree that celebrating won wars is less fun than waging them’, she continues, amusement ringing clear through her voice as she returned her gage purposefully to the stage. “I asked Azazel if she might add some zeal - perhapsmake those hounds do some tricks - but she seems to have ignored my good wishes”. Salome can feel the rolling of Angelic eyes next to her without even looking. It was so easy, so predictable, and yet anything but boring. That was the real curiosity of Ephemera, so easy to reel in and yet so resistant to truly jumping off the edge. She seemed halfway caught between accepting Salome’s allure and running from it, and the resistance only increased her desire. “Though your one is the more dull, I believe. So earnest - it’s quite exhausting.”

It is clear that Ephemera is acting advisor and strategist rather than - what? Friend? Enemy? Something in between? - whichraised the question as to why she had approached her in the first place. She thinks to ask, but when she opens her mouth to do so the crowd erupts in an applause more loud than she thinks the show was worthy of. Still, she brings her own hands together for the sheer relief that it is finally over. Her feet ache from standing bored for so long, her wings want to stretch open and wide. She wonders if a large enough quantity of alcohol might loosen Ephemera a little, but when she turns to declare this she finds that her companion has disappeared in the movement of so many people. A pity, but no real matter. She has never needed the company of others to create her own sport.

EXTRAS

[ My (WIP) pinterest for Salome can be found here. ]

Salome keeps no animal companion, for she has never felt much love for the nature of the earth. She finds it amusing that some Angels and Demons belittle themselves by keeping one. However, it is not an uncommon sight to see Salome walking with crows flying above her. Only on closer inspection would one realise those animals are but corpses, a puppetry Salome (alone) finds humorous.

Like all parts of herself, she harbours great love for her wings, and not only for the damnation that they represent. They are formed of what resembles a netting of fine, golden spider’s web. They seem to constantly change in the light, appearing to be more transparent than they are solid. Regal and beautiful, they are as Salome sees herself.

She is a fierce fighter and a connoisseur of bloodshed. Her weapon of choice is a trailing point blade, forged on the day of her arrival in Hell. She uses it exclusively for more.. intimate situations, and favours instead a simple longsword on the battlefield. She is however, proficient with most weaponry, as the corpses she can make fight use the same weapons they died wielding against her.

Though Infernum is the home she helped carve out, Salome spends a great deal of time in Sanctus Terra and travels to Caelum whenever the opportunity presents itself. Both locations amplify an itch deep within her soul, worsening her desire and thereby bringing greater satisfaction when she finally acts on the urge. She has not spilled any angelic blood in Caelum, though the temptation is strong, for she knows Michael has become astute to her presence. She has left a fair few victims in Sanctus Terra, a pursuit which has become less satisfying overtime. Still, Salome is careful. For all their talk of kinship, she is not sure that her fellow demons would refrain from locking her in the Black Cells if they had just cause.

[ aaaaaaand I leave you with the last verse of ‘Salome’, a poem by Mary Lamb. I honestly can’t describe it as anything over then *chef’s kiss*. I don’t know if Rosey read this when she was writing Salome’s bio, but I thought the writing style and tone and vibe and all beautifully mirrored each other?? Stunning. On that note, regardless of whether of not you think I’m right for Salome, thank you for the obvious amount of time/thought you’ve all put into this because it’s been really (really) fun to explore. ]

When painters would by art express Beauty in unloveliness, Thee, Herodias’ daughter, thee, They fittest subject take to be. They give thy form and features grace; But ever in they beauteous face They shew a steadfast cruel gaze, An eye unpitying; and amaze In all beholders deep they mark, That thou betrayest not one spark Of feeling for the ruthless deed, That did thy praiseful dance succeed. For on the head they make you look, As if a sullen joy you took, A cruel triumph, wicked pride, That for your sport a saint had died.

#accepted #accepted: salome

3 notes · View notes

dipulb3 · 4 years

Text

2021 Cadillac Escalade first drive review: American swagger

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/2021-cadillac-escalade-first-drive-review-american-swagger/

2021 Cadillac Escalade first drive review: American swagger

This is the Cadillac we’ve been waiting for. The Escalade has been transformed from merely ordinary into something truly outstanding. Sure, the brand’s recent crop of products has been OK, including the engaging CT4-V sedan and handsome XT6 crossover, but these vehicles still don’t quite hit the mark, let down by questionable powertrains and less-than-stellar interiors. But none of this applies to the new Escalade. No, it’s not tuned to handle like a sport sedan, but it still drives well for something so large. This imposing SUV is extremely luxurious, yet it isn’t the least but stuffy or old-fashioned. It offers segment-leading technology that avoids being intimidating or difficult to use. In short, Cadillac has at long last delivered a true luxury contender. No if, ands or buts, this is a flagship model to be proud of.

Caddy’s caveat-free machine has the goods to square off with rivals from Germany, Japan and America to compete on equal terms, though you may not realize it at first glance. The new Escalade’s exterior is certainly recognizable — and handsome — but overall, it’s fairly sedate and unexpectedly demure, even in supersized ESV form, the model seen here. Inside, though, it’s a completely different story.

It seems General Motors’ designers must’ve blown most of their budget creating this Cadillac’s inner sanctum. Showing how much thought the company has put into this vehicle, it’s available in something like nine different interior trim combinations, with unique colors, wood finishes and leather perforation patterns depending on the model. Platinum versions, which sit at the pinnacle of the Escalade range, feature buttery-soft semi-aniline cowhides in all three rows and loads of standard equipment. Quality is a high point, too. Poke at various trim pieces or bezels and nothing feels cheap or frail, everything is nicely finished and solidly built. About the only thing I don’t like is the silly electronic shifter, which looks like an old, brick-style cell phone. Also, it remains to be seen how premium lower-trim interiors will be, but if this top-shelf model is any indication, they should be pretty majestic, too.

The 2021 Escalade’s comportment is praiseworthy. Like its sister SUVs from Chevrolet and GMC, the addition of an independent rear suspension has, among other things, dramatically improved ride comfort in the second and third rows of seats. Adult passengers should have little to complain about, even if they’re sitting in steerage.

Chances are, the first thing you’ll notice about the 2021 Cadillac Escalade’s cockpit won’t be the stitching or door handles, it’s the screens. Sprawling across the dashboard are three individual OLED panels which measure more than 38 inches across. Subtly curved and beautifully integrated into the overall design rather than tacked-on like an afterthought, these seemingly overlapping displays provide perfect blacks, low glare and, according to Cadillac, the largest color range in the automotive business. Seriously, this unprecedented amount of screen real estate makes for super impressive standard equipment, and these displays are far from just eye candy. Like GM’s other recent infotainment systems, the one in this vehicle is superb, booting up quickly, responding immediately to inputs and never stuttering or lagging. Pinch-to-zoom on the navigation map, for instance, is as responsive as the smartphone in your pocket or purse. For added convenience, wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto are standard, as is a wireless device charging pocket on the center console.

Those OLED screens… are amazing!

Craig Cole/Roadshow

Further satiating today’s tech-obsessed motorists, the new Escalade offers plenty of high-end goodies. Augmented-reality navigation is perhaps the coolest, and it’s a feature that’s standard across the model range. When a route is active, the system overlays directional arrows on top of a video feed of where you’re driving, which is then piped to the center screen from a forward-facing camera. The closer you get to a turn, the larger and more animated the directional arrows get, making it nearly impossible to miss a navigational cue. This Cadillac can also be had with night vision. The latter isn’t particularly useful in most situations, but it can be handy for detecting animals or pedestrians in low-speed areas. Making this beast of an SUV just a little easier to park, the standard 360-degree camera system offers a dizzying array of different angles, which you can easily cycle through with just a few taps of your finger. The new Escalade can also be had with an awesome AKG sound system that makes even highly compressed music, like satellite radio, come alive around you, though it’d better be good considering it has no fewer than 36 speakers.

But what about Super Cruise, GM’s groundbreaking hands-free driving aid? Well, a newly enhanced version that can automatically change lanes will be offered on the Escalade before year’s end. Unfortunately, the model I’m testing here is not fitted with this headlining feature, though it does have regular adaptive cruise control, which is smoother and more responsive than some competing systems.

Matching its primo interior, this Cadillac is also supremely quiet and smooth, even when ripping down the highway. On rare occasions, you can get a tiny, tiny bit of body-on-frame jiggle, but that’s really only on horrifying road surfaces. This vehicle’s steering is secure and its body remains firmly planted when navigating corners at speed. The available lane-keeping system seems ineffective, seemingly doing little to keep the Escalade on the straight and narrow.

Augmented-reality navigation takes advantage of the Escalade’s forward-facing camera.

Craig Cole/Roadshow

Wind, tire and powertrain noise are all quieter than gossip behind your back. Matching that refinement, this vehicle’s ride quality is superb, too. Top-shelf Platinum models come with magnetic dampers and adaptive air suspension, the fanciest of three different setups offered on the Escalade. This combo delivers a ride that is both supple and controlled, far better than the Yukon Denali I tested recently, which, strangely enough, had the same suspension arrangement.

All of GM’s new, full-size SUVs are huge, but the extended-length models like the Chevy Suburban and this Escalade ESV are positively gargantuan. While turning corners, I’m constantly looking to make sure I don’t cut things too close or clip any wayward pedestrians. If you’re not careful, you could practically take out a whole elementary-school class and not even realize it. Of course, parking can be a chore, too, aggravated by the Cadillac’s tall hood and limited rearward visibility.

This luxury barge is hauled around by a smooth and snarly 6.2-liter small-block V8 that delivers 420 horsepower and 460 pound-feet of torque. It makes this Caddy plenty potent, although I still slightly prefer how the Lincoln Navigator’s 3.5-liter EcoBoost V6 performs, slightly. The latter has a huge load of torque right in the middle of its operating range, whereas this naturally aspirated V8 needs to rev a bit to really get going. Rectifying this, before the year is out, a 3.0-liter diesel inline-six will be available in the Escalade, delivering 460 lb-ft of twist from an estimated 1,500 rpm.

Who doesn’t love a good V8 engine? A diesel will also be available in this Cadillac before the year is done.

Craig Cole/Roadshow

No matter the engine, a 10-speed automatic transmission is standard fare, and it’s very nicely calibrated. In testing, I have not experienced any shift harshness, annoying lags or other bad behavior, plus it’s responsive to drop gears when your right foot calls for a bit of extra speed. With four-wheel drive, the Escalade ESV stickers at 14 miles per gallon city, 19 highway and 16 mpg combined. In mixed driving, I’ve been averaging round 17.7, which isn’t that great, but at least it’s better than the EPA combined rating.

When it’s time to slow things down, the Escalade’s brake pedal is a bit rubbery, but it’s easy to modulate and firm enough that it feels like you have generous stopping power in reserve. That’s important for a vehicle practically as heavy as the crawler that used to move the Space Shuttle around. Indeed, a four-wheel-drive Escalade ESV is no featherweight, clocking in at one full shopping bag shy of 6,000 pounds. Even so, this vehicle is still quite capable. My review unit’s maximum tow rating figures to be a stout 7,900 pounds, and when it comes to cargo hauling, the ESV is hard to beat. There’s 42.9 cubic feet of room in the way-back, but fold both the second- and third-row seats down and that figure balloons to 126.6 cubes, far more than you get in a Mercedes-Benz GLS or BMW X7; it’s even a good bit more generous than what the extended-length Navigator L provides, which maxes out at 120.2 cubic feet.

It’s kind of like a big ol’ box on wheels.

Craig Cole/Roadshow

The 2021 Cadillac Escalade ESV’s base price is suitably rich, kicking off at about $80,500 delivered. The regular-length model is $3,000 cheaper. As you can guess, in Sport Platinum trim with four-wheel drive, this unit is far, far pricier. Including about six grand in options and $1,295 for destination fees, my tester rings up for $112,965. A princely sum, indeed.

But you know something? I’m not even mad about that. Thanks to its driving refinement, abundant yet easy-to-use tech and opulent interior, this price tag seems totally fair. The 2021 Escalade is the nicest, most thoughtfully crafted Cadillac to come along in years. It is truly a flagship-worthy vehicle

0 notes

talesofealdancynedom · 4 years

Photo

Matcha hugging Palladis, both in human form. Looks like all he needed to grow up was dead deer and incompetent people!

Tale 8: Cetus, Jupiter, and Makatchthis (chapter 5. A Snack for the Road 5/5 ) part 2. Stories of Fey

gore

“I love magic, I can’t believe I gave it all up when dad died,” Cetus said, plopping several shopping bags on the floor. “what do you want for dinner? We don’t have to parent so I can cook something nice!” he said. Cetus’s cooking was, in fact, barely palatable.

“I think I need to become a magic user. I can’t do this.” Jupiter said falling onto the chair. Cetus began making tea.

“Our adventure it worked out in the end, Jupe. We do need to feed Matcha though, but I think Palladis has our back.” Cetus said with whimsy. Jupiter felt like she was about to cry or go dark. She let out a slow long breath like a deflating balloon. Upstairs Matcha was dancing music and making bracelets for everyone. Jupiter and Cetus were already wearing theirs. Jupiter’s had a planet charm on a string of pearls, and Cetus’s had a whale charm with a gimp band. While lost in his craft, Matcha’s noticed his stomach rumbled.

“Palladis?” He chirped. Matcha listened a moment. Palladis usually came quickly. Perhaps she was already out on the roads looking for food. She had already gotten distracted in the mall; mother would have Palladis’s head if she abandoned Matcha again. Road kill was the only thing dead and big enough to satiate Matcha. And given his new morality, the only thing he would accept. He refused to eat pets, fey, and humans. For a griminthrope, he was a picky eater. Palladis was searching the north trail roads for scraps. She was hungry as well, and as a richen raven, she got first dibs. Matcha felt he couldn’t wait for tonight though. His day had been so exciting, he had worked up an appetite. Matcha could not fully fly yet, but had enough plumage to glide, and keep him warm in the winter air; when he was in beast form anyway. Matcha decided to leave while Cetus and Jupiter seemed busy in the kitchen. He went to the south road which was the main way into town. As night fell, Matcha found what he was looking for just off the road; two hunters trying to put a killed deer in their truck. When matcha walked up to the truck the men ran. He was not full grown and iridescent, but Matcha was still a person sized pitch-black raven with a corvid skulled head. He looked like he could have been summoned from an ancient ritual in the woods. Which was technically true.

Morgan and Regina were returning early that night; They were on the bus on the main road. The sun had just set. Everyone was half asleep. Regina was gazing out the windows into the snowing night. Then Regina spotted blood on a truck near the ditch. When she pointed it out, they pulled over.

“Stay calm, I’m calling 911.” Professor Hara said.

“it’s not human, and not fresh.” Morgan said. He was first to investigate. They had just entered the magic forest zone, and it was his magic forest. Regina summoned a camping flashlight. And everyone peered down the broken brush. There was a trail of blood on the snow. It led into the cold, dead, forest thicket. They heard grinding and crunching. Like chewing raw pasta, yet echoey like rocks in a tumbler. They could smell the blood and flesh wafting from the trail. Morgan began to follow it. He was curious in nature; which led him to be successful, and in many risky situations.

“Are you nuts!” Reggie whispered.

“No. it just sounds familiar…” Morgan said. The group now following him for back up. They could hear the hunters on the road yelling and running back to the truck. The smell of cold winter air and metallic blood filled the air. The snaping, swallowing, ripping, chewing, and heavy breathing became louder as they stepped further from the bus. Morgen then stopped in a cleared-out area. There was Matcha, over a nearly completely disemboweled stag carcass. His hands coming out of his breast to pull in the long bones inside; which snaped and grinded beneath his feathers. Matcha was leaving nothing behind. Regina almost threw up. Yet, Morgan had no particular expression on his face.

“Matcha, you’re not supposed to leave the gate.” Morgan said.

“ee gwot hugry…awledy dead. Palmus.” Matcha responded in his boyish voice from under his black ruffle. The dissonance was remarkable. Reggie stood there, shivered, then blinked twice. She had the facial expression of her mother; blank, disgusted and disapproving. They stood there for five minutes while Matcha finished the deer, boarded the bus and went home.

“I mean, what luck! I found something dead and ran into you guys!” Matcha said yawning. He was settling into a thanksgiving torpor.

“Uncle Cetus, were home! We found Matcha, It’s ok!” Morgan yelled into the tower. It seemed to be empty. Palladis flew down and nestled on top her brother’s back. He sat on the large chair in his bird form, beginning to preen.

“He kill anything?” Palladis cawed. Morgan shoke his head.

“Nope. He found his first road kill. Well technically the hunter’s killed it; but it was on the side of the road! Raven children are the purest form of garbage disposals.” Morgan said calmly.

“Pestilent festering flesh goes in, magic and noise comes out.” Palladis cackled. She ruffled her feathers and settled to sleep with her brother. They had become perfect nest mates. Matcha had no more yearning for his terrifying brothers. Palladis had become just the sibling he needed. The day veil was so much better; so much colour, so many friends, and so much fun.

Cetus then ran down the stairs. “YOUR HOME. BLESS. NO MORE FIELD TRIPS. DON’T DISAPEAR. I BEG YOU, PLEASE.” Cetus whined hugging Reggie and Morgan. Jupiter looked undead holding a lamp in her sleeping robes and slippers. She looked defeated, tiered, and frustrated. She was.

“mom, dad, what happened?” Regina asked.

“I love Cetus and you Mother, Morgan. Which is why I agreed to this gig. It takes a lifetime to learn to parent. And by parent, I mean rear normal humans. Not fey. When I agreed to adopt you, I was thinking I would finally have another child; you and Reggie have always been like twins. But no. I got the parental horror of mystical teenagers going on quests into the magical dark ether of our realm. If I get dragged into one more adventure, Morgan; I’m going to quest so hard into magery, I will pop out the other end so mythical, I will be able to throat punch anything that even considers asking you to do a perils heroic journey.” Jupitar said without a single emotion in her voice. She was glaring at everyone, including Cetus.

“Oh, I see. Well, if it helps you cope, I would love to have you in the community? I’m going to bed now...” Morgan wheezed, pointing up the stairs.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch for a while, aren’t I? Why do I keep doing this?” Cetus said under his breath.

“mom? Are you ok? Can I like help or something…? I mean I can’t un-magic, but your being kind of scary…” Regina winced.

“no.” Jupiter said. Jupiter then turned around and walked back upstairs to bed. Matcha and Palladis asleep in the main hall. Snoring.

“Goodnight Reggie” Cetus said hugging his daughter. Cetus stood in the hall contemplating what to next, while everyone went upstairs. He couldn’t decide whether he should sleep with the ravens or his wife. He was now scared to make any more decisions. Cetus was not sure if anything was even his fault. He slowly began to realize no one was actually qualified to take care of Matcha in the first place. No one knew what they were doing; they were just grabbing straws moment to moment. Even the darn Raven king.

TABLE OF CONTENTS--->

<---PREVIOUS

#art #tales of ealdan cynedom #Cetus Jupiter and Macatchthis #cetus #regina #jupiter #matcha #palladis #short stories #story eight #fantasy #morgan #hara

0 notes

slobberchops · 4 years

Text

Day 43: And so begins the decaying phase of the lockdown

An acquaintance of mine is has abandoning her recently occupied apartment in the city and is fleetingly selling off all of her new furnishings. This includes a rather fetching walnut bed frame and decent mattress. What’s more, barely used and from the guest room no less. This has thrown the delicate ecosystem of my apartment into disarray.

See, I need the trundle bed that I currently sleep on, like a teenager, for when guests visit, in particular should my parents be able to flee the East Coast during the summer drenching heat. I also need a couch, and was under the delusion that this trundle bed might fit in this sort of role. It won’t. But it’s too late, I’ve already spent a good part of my Saturday afternoon moving it from the bedroom to the living room.

Now nothing has its place anymore. I had to move the tiny spindly table that I kept as my workspace to another part of the living room which has itself become cramped where it was adequately spacious. The bedroom has had all the pieces, which before had been carefully stowed away like articles on a ship pending a storm scattered to and fro while at the same time leaving a gaping space where once a bed served some useful purpose. Now strut on my hamster wheel in this awkward, shell of a room, waiting until my show ends and I can stop and leave it for the next 24 hours.

Darkness wants a hovel

The light in my kitchen went out. I’m uncertain when, but the night before I noticed that it emitted a ghost-like flicker after I had turned off the power. I didn’t think anything of it at the time because it was obviously some kind of florescent number that is known for gasping for a time before giving up the light. I discovered it had actually died for good toward the setting of the sun. When I took the cover down from the ceiling I discovered that the light was not merely florescent, but a special sort of florescent that could not be replaced with an ordinary or otherwise more practical light bulb, such as the numerous LED ones spread throughout the place. The light bulb itself wasn’t a bulb at all but rather a ring. The ring is capable of producing light in a steady, consistent manner except for a small section where an intricate electronic plug is used to socket the thing into the ceiling.

Given that there are no more hardware stores in the mission, the last remaining one having exploded a number of years ago, there is no readily available place to go without risking a bus or train ride and likely ending up somewhere crowded. So it will have to be delivery, which ought to take a few days, in the meantime I will be cooking by phone-light. I am at least able to do that relatively easily as I have in my hands a tripod which along with a normal attachment for cameras has a fold-up piece which is held in place by a spring is strong enough to hold the phone for me. While meant for photography it works just as well as a lamp when using the phones LED.

And thus I am able to stumble around in an ever increasing clutter at night, preparing the most basic sustenance I can. The kitchen itself, like most of the apartment now, simply has not more room for all the things that have eventually made its way here. I kept it up for weeks, but began to feel that all my spare hours were spent cleaning. Now, all of the counter space has been taken by things that are in perpetual states of use or drying. Cooking is no longer even remotely enjoyable as each moment requires solving a miniature, incoherent sliding puzzle, where I must constant shift objects between different minute swaths of surface. This means that I now must add more time for each thing I cook or clean... I fear it has become a death spiral.

San Francisco Sour Dough

Over the weekend, the sourdough started morphed into an unpleasant and demanding guest. It had already eaten a sizable share of my bread flour, which I should not have to point out at this time is a rather precious commodity. While it lives and grows fat, I labor for it, sacrificing more and more of my time and kitchen space to satiate its wanton desires.

I suppose I only have myself to blame, I didn’t really know the mechanics necessary to work with sourdough. I had a book, but I am too unfocused or possibly lazy to read it.

I did it all wrong. Having misunderstood the archaic instructions from my bake-book-tomb, I started in the early afternoon, and had I understood the timing better I would have cheated and started later. I let it only rise once, and then tried to make it rise again the next morning after it lay in my refrigerator cavorting with leftovers and fermented dosa batter for the entire night.

I had to rise extra early (for me) to also fetch parchment paper for all the various new baking pans I had accumulated over the last year, not trusting the mustering blob not to stick itself to the sides of anything I put it in. In the end, I chopped the beast into 5 separate loaves. Two large ones and three small ones with the intent to share them far and wide. In the end I shared one big loaf and one small loaf, leaving myself a big one and two smalls, the latter having been frozen for use later.

In the end, I baked the large loaves for too short a time, having demonstrated my illiteracy once again by failing to understand the instructions in the BBT (bake-book-tomb). I am told the small loaves were better, but the big ones didn’t have crunchy crusts. Instead they are chewy, and not unlike the kind of sour dough you encounter at mid-tier restaurants all over San Francisco. In fact, it has only a slightly denser consistency than most SF sour dough, mainly because of my incompetence, and the same shitty sour flavor that I’ve always loathed from the very first bite.

Still the loaves are like my children and like any parent of disappointing children I must love them, and find them the tastiest thing in the world. In fact, I have already eaten half of the big loaf, which was almost the only thing that was possible to eat when trying to cook in a dark, crowded kitchen.

All is not lost. There are rumors circulating that there is something that comes with bread called “crumb”, and these ones look ok. Having fed photos of my bread-children to a more knowledgeable veteran of many tours of bread-duty, I have been thus assured. What’s more, the recipient of one of the (properly baked) small loaves wants me to make a loaf to send to her mother in Southern California. Gods only know why, since that region has escaped the wretched aerial yeast found in Bay Area skies, but who am I to refuse? After all am but a humble servant.

0 notes

footyplusau · 7 years

Text

Daisy Pearce reflects on the opening round of AFLW

This time last week we were all poised with bated breath. Sports fans, parents of young daughters, advocates for gender equality and even those who had taken a sceptical view on women playing AFL, waiting to see how the weekend would unfold.

Play Video Don’t Play

Home invasion leaves Essendon players shaken

Play Video Don’t Play

Previous slide Next slide

AFLW Plays of Round One

The most stunning plays from round one of the AFLW.

Home invasion leaves Essendon players shaken

Play Video Don’t Play

Home invasion leaves Essendon players …

Home invasion leaves Essendon players shaken

Young Essendon footballers become the latest victims of a terrifying home invasion after the house they share in Maribyrnong was targeted by a gang of thugs.

Packed Princes Park watches Carlton take debut win

Play Video Don’t Play

Packed Princes Park watches Carlton take …

Packed Princes Park watches Carlton take debut win

Four goals from Darcy Vescio helped the Blues to victory over Collingwood after a lock out at Princes Park for the first ever AFLW match.

Living two lives

Play Video Don’t Play

Living two lives

Tiana Ernst delivers babies by day and plays footy by night. Hailing from far north Queensland and moving south for the game she loves, Tiana is set to play a season of footy alongside her current life as a doctor.

James Hird’s father speaks out

Play Video Don’t Play

James Hird’s father speaks out

James Hird’s father Allan talks to 3AW about his view on his son’s overdose and the Essendon doping saga.

Essendon offers support following Hird health scare

Play Video Don’t Play

Essendon offers support following Hird …

Essendon offers support following Hird health scare

Following a suspected overdose, players showed up to training and kept mum about their distressed coach. Vision courtesy Seven News, Melbourne.

Heeney wants midfield spot

Play Video Don’t Play

Heeney wants midfield spot

Isaac Heeney makes his message clear about where he wants to play in 2017.

AFLW Plays of Round One

The most stunning plays from round one of the AFLW.

I arrived at Ikon Park three hours before the bounce on Friday night to prepare for my commentary duties with Channel Seven. I had never been more excited to go to a football match and could sense the tension as soon as I got within a few hundred metres of the ground. It felt like even the old grandstands were holding their breath, having not been physically tested since Princes Park staged what we thought would be its last AFL game in 2005. The capacity crowd roared as umpire Annie Mirabile held the ball overhead and the opening siren sounded, signalling the beginning of more than just the game.

If I hadn’t been on live television, I would have cried. But quickly trying to get my head around which button to press to turn my microphone on and off, and which screen I could read the stats from, gave me the distraction I needed to keep the tears at bay.

It was an historic weekend for women’s football. Photo: AFL Media/Getty Images

Along with the Darcy Vescio show, one of my lasting memories was vision of an excited Carlton fan hanging over the fence and playing it up to the camera. There was no audio but he was easy to lip read. “Carn the Blue Boys,” he screamed, then after a short delay leant back into the camera and corrected himself with “I mean girls, Blue Girls”. For some reason it really moved me.

Here was a fan supporting his team, unfazed by whether it was the men’s team or the women’s team, just delighted to be coming out of the annual summer hibernation earlier than usual. Now he has another two months of the year during which, as a grown man, it’s completely OK to wear his football jumper in public and behave like a maniac.

It was similarly heartening to see such a healthy, vocal crowd make the trip out to Casey Fields for our game against the Lions on Sunday. With wild weather forecast, people could have been forgiven for waiting until next week to watch the Demons for the first time.

Fans stuck it out in the wild weather at Casey Fields. Photo: AFL Media/Getty Images

As rain poured in the last quarter,, I found myself close to the fence and realised the crowd was still there. Having literally weathered the storm and waited out the lightning delay, there they were still wanting more.

I am grateful for the support but obviously the result was extremely disappointing. We felt we were competitive in some key areas but failed to capitalise. The Lions gave us an early lesson about just how important it is to take your opportunities. In matches of 15-minute quarters and a seven-round season, there won’t be many second chances.

I enjoyed the Darcy Vescio Show. Photo: AFL Media/Getty Images

There’s no time to dwell on the loss. We must learn and look ahead to our Saturday night match with Collingwood. Strangely our round-two clash is virtually a final. Bring it on.

The opening round dished up the type of football I expected; extremely physical and competitive, sprinkled with glimpses of sublime skill. Bri Davey (Carlton) took the game on with her power, Kellie Gibson (Adelaide) broke away and kicked a running goal from outside 50, Tayla Harris (Brisbane) launched at the contest to take an overhead mark in torrential rain and Katie Brennan (Western Bulldogs) willed herself into the game to finish with two goals after receiving plenty of defensive attention early.

AFLW is a different product to the men’s competition … There is something enthralling about the rawness of the women’s version.

But for now, AFLW is a different product to what we are accustomed to in the men’s competition. It is less precise and less systematic but an overwhelmingly positive response to the opening round’s matches suggests it’s not structure and perfection that satiates footy fans. There is something enthralling about the rawness of the women’s version.

In time, and not by chance, we will see these moments of brilliance more often and from more players but for some the question of whether there will be enough talent to fulfil an 18-team competition remains a reason for hesitation. The question of whether there is adequate interest from young girls wanting to play has been put to rest by the explosion in participation. In 2016 there was a 21 per cent increase in female Auskick participation and a 56 per cent increase in community club teams. Overall female participation accounts for 27 per cent of overall participation. These figures are expected to increase again with the aspirational value of AFLW.

Build it and they will come.

There will be a big enough talent pool if resources continue to be dedicated to the female pathway. The Callum Mills and Andy McGraths of the world don’t just arrive at clubs equipped to play at the elite level because as boys they were born with football ability. They are boys who are passionate about the game, have grasped the opportunities available to them and thrived in the elite development environments they have been exposed to.

As early as next year we will see “generation-next”, the first wave of female players who have had the opportunity to play football across the same talent pathway as their male counterparts. They will have been encouraged to play Auskick rather than being steered elsewhere so they “wouldn’t get hurt”. They will have been taught the fundamental skills of the game from an early age. Like male draftees, those who “make it” will already have been exposed to TAC cup squads, state-based talent programs and the AFL/AIS Academy that was recently extended to include the country’s brightest female talent. Physically, mentally and emotionally they will have been groomed for the AFL environment.

The most powerful evolution will come with the wave after; the six- or seven-year-olds who tune in to AFLW this weekend and are inspired to take up the game not only because they love it, but with a genuine ambition to play professionally. Soon AFLW will be a completely different beast.

The post Daisy Pearce reflects on the opening round of AFLW appeared first on Footy Plus.

from Footy Plus http://ift.tt/2lpmYje via http://footyplus.net

#Footy Plus

0 notes