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#virg creates
drunkjaked · 1 year
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(see also) more fictional man cave jake content
why did you send this to me. why did i even click on the link. why is the video ten hours long. much to think about ..
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infawrit10 · 9 months
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Alright the new ep is so sweet and of course I fixated on Virge because of course.
- Love that him calling Roman a royal pain in the ass is now canon
- Boy is trying So Hard to create bridges between what he likes and what Roman likes ‘cause he wants to share things he loves with him 🥺🥺🥺
- “It’s your animal companion! :D” “What? It looks like she likes you!” STOP he sounds so happy 😭😭😭
- You can interpret the “ask crush out for drinks” card as Thomas asking out Nico, but you can also interpret it the Other way 👀
- I’m sorry but him getting super passionate about the fairy tale and then adding onto it to give it a happy ending because it was what would make ROMAN happy is so sweet
- “That was like holding in a sneeze.” 😂😂😂 I love this spooky purple dork.
In short this ep has inspired me to get some more writing done for this fandom! Wish me luck on finishing something!
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⬜ thatsthat24 Follow
so what are your roles?
🟦 listen-to-logic Follow
i help you make logical decisions and solve problems
🟨 hiss-teria Follow
i act as your self-preservation and help you focus on your own needs
🟥 roman-tic Follow
i help you create art!
🟪 on-the-virge Follow
i make sure you don't accidentally kill yourself
⬜ thatsthat24 Follow
that's not—
🟦 listen-to-logic Follow
no, trust me. he's our most important member.
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greekceltic · 10 months
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A silly interaction with Gale and Virg. I was going to hold onto this for the comic- but that takes the joy out of creating for me. Spoilers abound around here. I forgot his eye spot again.
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idontknowreallywhy · 4 months
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A Part of Her
For various reasons (train strikes etc) I haven’t done a commute fic (where I just thrash something out in a linear form and don’t obsessively edit it later) for a while, but a little idea occurred to me today so here is a hurried lunch-break fic…
What do we call these two? Was it Astro Turf?
Whatever, a bit of Allie and Virg…
🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵
“Virg?”
“What’s up, Allie?”
His little brother had drifted across the room and was slowly running his hand along the edge of the piano lid watching the hammers rise and fall as Virgil played. He’d not said anything for a while and not wanting him to believe his presence was unwelcome, Virgil had just smiled at him and waited for whatever was coming. When he eventually spoke, Alan’s voice was steeped in uncertainly.
“This was… Mom’s, right?”
“Yes Allie it was. We had it shipped over when we moved here.”
Alan nodded and was quiet again for a while. Clearly something was brewing. Virgil shifted from the concerto he was niggling at into a slightly sparser, atmospheric piece which gave more space and time for any words that might be coming.
“She… played a lot?”
“Pretty much every moment she got. More than me I think.”
“Why do you play so much?”
“Why do I play?”
Virgil paused to consider, looking down at his hands as he ran a couple of gentle arpeggios through a series of chords. There was a lot more behind that question than there appeared and he needed to choose his answer carefully.
“Firstly, because I enjoy it, I like the music I create and I like the fact it’s something I’m creating, even if it goes a bit wonky.”
Alan nodded, blue eyes met his with very deliberate focus. He was clearly concentrating on every word Virgil said.
“Secondly, because you guys enjoy it. I like being able to help Scott relax, or Gordon laugh… or cheer you up sometimes.”
Another nod. Virgil stopped playing a moment and rested his fingers over the black notes.
“Um, I also often play to try and process how I feel about things. Sometimes it’s hard to put the difficult stuff into words but…” he played a series of chords around D minor and then coughed and reverted back to a slightly cheerier key as he noticed Alan try to cover up rubbing at his eye by scratching his nose.
“Then I guess the final one is… it helps me feel close to her, to Mom. I imagine her hands on the keys, making the same sounds and I feel like a part of her is still with me.”
Alan closed his eyes and whispered something hurriedly. Virgil leaned over to put his right hand over his brother’s left where he held the side of the instrument in a vice grip.
“I didn’t quite catch that Allie?”
He opened his eyes and looked Virgil full in the face again, eyes wide. “Can you teach me?”
Virgil knew his expression must have betrayed his surprise as his baby brother rushed on hurriedly.
“I know you did before when I was a kid and I sucked, I didn’t try very hard or practise because I didn’t get it. I didn’t get what it meant. And I’m probably still going to suck at it Virgil, I know that.”
Alan swallowed hard.
“But I want to try because maybe, maybe there is a part of her inside me too and if there is I want to find it.”
Virgil pulled gently on the young man’s hand and guided him around to perch next to him on the stool and wrapped him in his arms.
“She’s in your every cell, your every breath, Alan. And she would be so proud of you.”
Alan sniffed and tightened his grip on Virgil’s shirt. Virgil unpeeled his little brother’s fingers from the flannel and guided his right hand to rest on the keyboard.
“If you want to play it would be a privilege to teach you, but you need never doubt she is a part of you Alan.”
Alan twisted and placed his left hand on the keys alongside his right.
“Show me. Please?”
🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵
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gumnut-logic · 9 months
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Coping
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This is a short scene inspired by @knyee​ ‘s painting of Virgil painting on the floor. I hope you don’t mind me bouncing my inspiration off your amazing artwork :D
I haven’t written in weeks and I had a doozy of six day working week, the last two days embellished by three migraines (yay), so quality is questionable. Let’s just say I sought the refuge of Tracy bros when feeling crappy.
Many thanks to the amazing @gaviiadastra​ for the read through when I finally finished this tiny fic. You are wonderful to me.
Anyways, less blabbering about me and more FishTank!
-o-o-o-
Gordon sipped at his recently constructed Tracy Sunrise mocktail, complete with a slice of candied lemon and mandatory umbrella, as he climbed the stairs into the comms room.
He and Virg were back from a successful rescue in England. Part of an ancient, like really ancient, two story cottage had half collapsed on its tenants.
Virgil had muttered something about stressors and mortar and age, most of which had gone over Gordon’s head as engineer technobabble, but John had agreed and thrown them all the numbers.
They had been in the area after pulling a sub out from under the ice in what was left of the Arctic ice sheet, so a quick drop in on the way home was easy.
The elderly couple had been saved. Their dog had gone missing for a moment or two, but Rover had gotten himself found by Gordon and all family members had reunited at the local ambulance with little more than a scratch or two each.
Couldn’t ask for a better result.
John sent them home and into the darkness of night time and what was likely to be a quick debrief when Scott got back from Australia.
Gordon had been tempted to drop in on Penny along the way, but apparently she was in Russia.
He didn’t ask why.
So home, a quick sandwich in the kitchen, and a tropical mocktail to shake the cooler climates out of his soul.
“Virg, you gotta try this.”
There was no answer from the lounge.
Gordon frowned. His big brother was nowhere in sight. He coulda sworn…“Virg?”
The familiar clink of a paintbrush being rinsed in a water glass just as Gordon approached the lounge…and there he was.
Virgil sat on the floor in his pyjamas, painting. It was hit or miss as to whether there was more paint on him or the canvas sheet he had spread on the floor.
Grandma was not going to be happy about that.
But…”How on Earth have you managed to get into such a mess so quickly? We only got home half a hour ago, and most of that was shower.”
Virgil grunted and didn’t even bother to look up at him.
Okay, immersed in what he was doing. Don’t prod the bear when focussed.
Instead Gordon sat himself down on the couch beside his brother and sipped quietly on his drink.
Gordon had to admit that he quite enjoyed watching his brother work. Brotherly ribbing aside, Gordon was quite proud of what his brothers were capable of and Virgil was great spectator sport.
Paint came out of tubes and was dabbed onto the canvas to create all kinds of interesting things.
Today it appeared Virgil was painting a flower of some kind. There was pink and green…a rose?
Virgil was known for painting flowers, after all, they had plenty on the Island to play with, but roses weren’t the typical.
“A rose?”
Virgil didn’t even look up at him. “Has thorns.” It was muttered absent-mindedly, and as Gordon peered closer he realised he had been a little mistaken.
The figure on the canvas sheet had its origins in a pink rose, but as his brother laid down more colour, it morphed into something closer to Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors. What the-?
His brother sketched in teeth and the painting snarled despite its pinks and soft greens.
Gordon frowned. “You okay?”
Another grunt from his brother only had Gordon frowning harder. Virgil obviously had a bee in his bonnet.
But then the lighting caught a particular shade of pink that screamed cloudy day reflecting off scattered petals amongst fallen brickwork.
Thorns.
There had been a climbing rose on that cottage. Virgil had said something about accumulated growth and the weakening of ancient mortar…
“We saved them, Virg, no one was hurt.” He reached out and placed his hand on tight shoulder muscles.
His brother sighed and sat back, just touching Gordon’s knee. “I know.” He rolled his shoulder, brush still in hand, and the joint cracked.
Gordon winced. “Maybe we should skip debrief-“
“No, no.” Another sigh. “Gotta get it out.” The last word faded as Virgil returned to painting his devilish floral creation.
Gordon just sat and watched his brother. Gordon could see desperate swim strokes in Virgil actions, that need to work it out of the system. He could understand.
Scott wasn’t going to be happy. But then Scott was never happy when a brother wasn’t one hundred percent. But they all had their coping mechanisms, both the gym and the Tracy Island trails could vouch for that when Scott needed to do the same.
Virgil’s method was just a little different-
(The plant monster now had dripping fangs)
-if a little terrifying.
-o-o-o-
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kloppool · 3 months
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analysis of liverpool's szn at the halfway point
i think the most apparent reason for our resurgence this szn is our midfield rebuild. i won't go too in-depth about our issues last year (cause we all literally lived it) but our midfield was old, injury-prone and just could not do its job. the thing that makes liverpool different is that our attacking facilitators are our fullbacks, so the midfield is expected to do more defensively. that was not happening last season, which left our defense exposed. this year, our brand-new midfield has looked amazing. despite a rough few games, domi has been one of the best signings, covers an incredible amount of ground a game, and can score some absolute bangers. macca has been played out of position so far, but has still been great. however, i think endo has been the best of the bunch, which might be a little controversial, but considering what the expectations of many were vs what he has delieved, i think the thing i love the most about endo is his attitude. even if he makes a mistake, he puts in double the effort to make up for it.
similar to our midfield, our defense is very much having a comeback season. as i touched on in the previous paragraph, the midfield left our defense very exposed last season. this was especially an issue at the fullback position because while taa and robbo are crazy talented, they sometimes leave a lot to be desired in the defensive area. our center back situation was also not great.
while the midfield being loads better certainly helps our defense, i also think that every single one of them is miles better then last year. virg is having a proper renaissance and looks back to his best. joel was phenomenal, ibou is hitting his stride and jarell is our best academy player since trent.
trent's position switch has maybe been the most interesting thing taticallly so far imo. by allowing him to play as an inverted fullback, trent gets to make full use of one some of his best skills- his passing and vision. he's directly gotten us 4 points this season through goals and his defending has improved
to put in perspective how good our defense has been our goals conceded per match is 0.84 so far
the funny thing about our attack this year is that normally it's the area we have the least concern with. for years, liverpool was defined by it's incredible attacking football and lack of defense soundness, which lead to (what felt like) constant 4-3s.....just look at 2017/2018.
so far liverpool have scored 39 goals, only behind city (43) and aston villa (40)
however, the problem is that liverpool are wasteful and not finishing enough chances. mo salah has 12 goals and 7 assists in having played 19 matches
the issue (so far) is that there is no other consistent goalscorer. while darwin has certainly been much better this season, he still misses a lot. if he can improve his finishing, i gen believe he could be fernando torres-esque. if not, we need to a. find someone to consistently score goals and b. allow him the freedom to do what he does best: which rn, is to cause chaos. i can see darwin taking up a bobby type role here and being a facilitator for mo and another strike partner
diogo is, after mo, our best attacker. he is so clinical it's not even funny. cody's movement and energy are fantastic, but his finishing needs to improve. luis diaz has been great at times, but has struggled lately and i think a little time off to reset after everything he's been through this season would be great
summary: our midfield and defense have improved massively thanks to new signings and players rediscovering their best selves. our attack creates great chances, but overall struggles to finish consistently. but, overall, i'm impressed. we've lost a lot of crucial players over the past 2 years, mainly in the midfield and attack (literally all of our midfielders left) and to be in a title race this season is truly impressive.
have not spoken of klopp yet, but he is as animated as ever and his ability to reinvent this team and reenergize them is truly special. i know he's "the normal one" but what he does is the exact opposite.
if you read this whole thing thank you so much.....also you might be a little crazy
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longeyelashedtragedy · 3 months
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2023 post
i'm struggling through this with a kind of broken keyboard (sticky M U J keys) so bear with me!
because the last month of this year has been such a fucking nightmare (that i'll be working to remove myself from come tuesday) i realized that the good things that happened this year kind of escaped me.
cause--this year was good, in ways that as always with my life cannot be seen by the outside world. it was a messy year but some things changed that i still haven't fully made sense of.
-this year i met so many cool people on here, or got closer to some other people who i'd known before. if "meeting cool people on tumblr" was a skill you could put on your resume, i would definitely feel qualified to put it on my resume, but this year i feel like i just got acquainted with a really high quality group of people (all who support different teams, too!) and that's been so much fun and rewarding as well. i always feel a bit guarded telling people that i care about them but...i do. a lot!
-this june i went on a #YOLO trip to the netherlands that i could not afford but even now when i see my charming credit card debt i have to say i have No Regerts. i got to meet two of these tumblr friends who i've been close to for long enough that they've transcended "internet friend" for me and feel like Friends I've Known a Long Time. we had such a comfortable and fun time travelling together, to a place i've wanted to visit since i was young, and the benefit of meeting Tumblr Friends in real life is that you can make sure everyone's brain needs are taken care of! together we went to see italy beat NL (feat. virg van d slur in the flesh) in the stadium and then watched croatia lose to spain in the basement of a sports bar in utrecht and they got to see that it's 100% true that i cry during the croatian national anthem before the game 😂 i got to do so many bucket list things--visit the rijksmuseum, go solo to delft and see all the vermeer places and settings of my favorite book, girl with a pearl earring (and accidentally wander into a government building looking for a church, whoops), and see the girl with a pearl earring herself for the second time, but this time at her home in the mauritshuis. also i took a lot of fun trains and like every time i go from american Big Corn Syrup and Weird Additives food to europe, everything i ate was good as fuck. and i slept in a pod for two nights! i have the opposite of claustrophobia (claustro...philia? lol) so that slapped. so great, and getting to meet up with friends who live on the other side of an ocean is so fucking special.
-LAMPARDVERSE! nuff said, but it's been an absolute blast getting to co-create it and research all the lore. this is just the beginning, long may it live!!! also thanks to you all for putting up with me blasting a white english chelsea man on your dashes. it will happen again.
-irl stuff...the most unexpected. this year i was able to comfortably become friendly with people who are quite different from me. i was confident in the parts of my personality that are Different--i had fun owning it, and i saw that people really like that person. the craziest thing was that a huge obstacle in my path was that cptsd causes me to feel physically uncomfortable around people, even people i like, aside from emotional discomfort, but the thing is when your body is getting physical danger signals they're extremely difficult to "ignore" (for a reason!) or put aside to focus on the mental stuff.
this year i just went for it--went through months of extremely draining and uncomfortable "exposure therapy" by way of forcing myself to try to stay present in conversations with people i knew i liked, even if the conversations/their presence freaked me out and drained me. (i'm not some magical uwu inspiration/good luck miracle, for anyone who might be in this situation and feel envious--i've been in intense therapy since 2013, do a lot of my own mental work in between, and take two different medications. it took me 10 years to get there! i say this cause there is no shame in the hard work.) importantly, with the people i felt i trusted enough and whose opinion of me i valued enough for them to know the truth, i just told them what was going on with me. not in any graphic detail or TMI, but i told them one of the things that has a big impact on how i present to the outside world (i suffer from trauma), what this trauma suffering looks like to the outsider (sometimes i stop talking altogether in a conversation, and not just that, but i zone out so hard that it looks like i'm not even paying attention, even though sometimes i still am), and what it means about how i feel about them/how they should take it (it means nothing at all, so please please don't take it personally)
they took this level of openness and honesty very well, and i found that telling them these limitations of mine helped to set me free. not living with the lifetime fear of being "found out," not having to worry while i was having a Trauma Moment that people were thinking badly of me and that it was severely impacting my socialization--all of this suddenly helped me start staying in the present while talking to people and while people were talking to me. and not just stay in the present but--ENJOY it. get something out of it. and, to show my work-friends that even though i have a lot of things not in common with them--that that's cool, and we still have plenty of things we do have in common
the kindness people have shown me this year after Seeing Me and getting to know me was unreal. i don't know how to process it. (this applies to you guys on tumblr too!). so many things have happened this fall and so many things were said to me that i never, ever, EVER thought i would be able to experience. i hope this lasts and i hope i can build on this in the new year.
so yeah...this year was...something alright. i'm always an even age in an even year and the evens are never as good for me as the odds (other than like, age 14. that was a good time.) but let's hope for the best.
now, i hate new year's eve/day, so let's get this shit over with!
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stormoflina · 3 months
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Thoughts about tonight's LIVFUL:
- Second-half fc, handsome fc, injury fc, but never bottle fc 😽
- Okay, still gotta admit, i was going through it in the first half, one of our worst 45 minutes we have played this season. Still, the boys powered through it, Klopp's subs were fantastic, Darwin and Cody won us the game.
- But of course let's talk about my man, our man, the one and only Curtis mf Jones. The way he stepped up today is incredible, even is his stats won't show it in the first half, he was bossing (the still very weak) midfield around, working his socks off, shielding the ball. And that second half? THE GOAL?! What a magnificent goal that was, oh my! Curtis is a special, special player. It's a tight draw with Darwin, both deserve MOTM imo.
- Darwin!! Anyone who dares to slander this man after this game should go to get his eyesight checked, because he won us the game today. He completely changed our pace, our play, started creating chances. We had 1 shot in the first half. Then comes Darwin on and bumm. Idc if he misses his tap-ins (ok, I do, he needs to improve on that), but his influence is astronomical. He's a Red through and thorough, we need him.
- Cody is the true stepson of our squad, ngl. He rarely gets played in his preferred position, yet he still manages to deliver. Very happy for his goal. 🩷
- Virg wasn't his sharpest today, but I'm not gonna say anything bad about him. He was sick just a few days ago, who knows if he even healed fully. He probably insisted to come and play, with how many injuries we have...
- Bradley was so good! There were times when I thought he was the best player on the pitch. Incredible performance from a 20 year old.
- I feel bad for Harvey. I think he was one of our better players today in the first half, tried his best. Thought it was a bit harsh when he got hooked with Grav, but clearly Klopp knew what he was doing.
- Grav tho... I think this was his worst performance so far. I know he's more of a project signing and still so young, didn't play football for a whole year in Bayern, I understand that, and it's not his fault that we signed him in a transitional year, than decided to do a title charge and all, but gosh, it can be so frustrating. He has great potential, but right now, I think he is our riskiest player in the whole squad. Sometimes he has such great moments, like that one dribble against Rodri, but when he is bad, he's BAD bad. What's most frustrating about him is that sometimes it feels like he just gives up too easily and doesn't even try - like with tracking back, or when he loses the ball. Clearly this is something that can be coached out of him, but when you are in a semi-final, I found it a bit mental to just pull your hands up in the air and watch the opposition take your ball.
- Klopp is so funny, I love that old german man.
- Hopefully for the second leg we can have most of our players back and play less of a heartattack type of football. 🤞🏼
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elenyafinwe · 9 months
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Bye kofi, grrr. Nuking my account for nothing. You can now find and support me on Buy Me A Coffee. The page offers a shop, where I've put the stuff I'm currently selling under https://www.buymeacoffee.com/elenyafinwe/extras. You can also commission me there under https://www.buymeacoffee.com/elenyafinwe/commissions. And you find a wishlist under https://www.buymeacoffee.com/elenyafinwe/wishlist where I've put a few things I'd like to own, but also necessities like new shoe laces for my boots and short trousers for the summer, because my old ones don't fit me anymore, alongside basic stuff for my birbs and the whole laptop matter. Tbh I don't think that I really get the 1000€ within the next weeks, but any Euro helps us T.T The cool thing about the wishlist is, that it's crowdfunded, means that you don't have to pay the full price all by yourself, but can choose for what you want to contribute and then choose an amount to do so. For example this link should lead you right away to the laptop wish.
So, if you like my content and want to help me out a bit, here you go. Currently that's my only income T.T The whole trans and trying to get a job thingy :/
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the-panmixxia · 8 months
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Pound of Prevention (and an ounce of cure) Chapter 1
Before we begin the fic, I would like to preface this by saying - this is my continuation of the 'A Black Cat For (un)Luck' and is also my big bang for this year! I was lucky enough to be paired up with @im-an-anxious-wreck to create some incredible art. I hope you check them out and stay tuned for the master post! (I no longer have a pc, so I'm doing all this on mobile,,, please be kind lmao)
"Oh em gee. What's a lil cutie like you doing in here?"
Virgil froze, fur standing on edge as spook quietly tilted spooks head. In the darkness of the apartment, spooks vampire roommate lurked rather ominously. The vampire that was supposed to be at work right now, shit. Had Virgil forgotten a day off, holiday of some kind? Why the fuck was Remy here!
"An itty bitty kitty~" They purred, and faster than Virgil could blink, spook was lifted by the scruff. "Where the heck did you come from? How'd you even get in? I bet Virgil let you in, knew that little shit was keeping a secret. Honestly thought spook just had a boyfriend or some shit like that. I prefer this though."
Virgil yowled in mild irritation, willing spooks body to move so spook could get out of this embarrassing hold. Remy simply smiled, showing off a row of pearly whites, along with an intimidating set of fangs. Virgil would've been intimated if it wasn't Remy.
"Spicy lil' cayenne coffee, huh? What do you want, babes?"
'let me down!' Virgil internally roared. It came out as a fierce sounding hiss, but Remy simply cooed in spooks face. Humiliating.
"Oohhh I'm keeping you. Don't care what Virgie says. You snooze, you lose. C'mon, there's some chicken in the fridge, it's time to totally manipulate your affection and make me your fave owner. Yeah. Bet cranky lil Virge never gives you chicken, huh? Criminal. Absolutely criminal."
Virgil was plonked down on the cabinets, gentle claws scratching spooks ears before wandering off towards the fridge. Spook meowed imploringly, but was ultimately ignored. Bummer. The kitten looked around, sniffing the outlet and cringing at how filthy it was. Spook should probably clean the kitchen properly in the morning, the landlord would probably blow up and evict them both if they reported another ant infestation.
Spook peered over the edge of the cabinet as Remy was preoccupied googling what cats could eat. The answer was no they can not eat fruit loaf Remy you idiot -
Hmm. The ledge was too tall for Virgil to safely launch spookself off. In human form, spook had a reputation as the perfect blend of cat and cryptid due to the uncanny ability to appear on random surfaces and within impossible crevices - though it seemed in actual cat form, Virgil was lacking.
This called for one thing. It was time to meow frantically until everyone caved to spooks needs.
Meows began, slipping out the kitten's body with ease, practically screaming with urgency. Lemme down! Lemme down, I want down!
It was effective, Remy whipping around and staring at Virgil as if the kitten had burst into song or something as equally baffling. After a second, Remy shook their head and stood up, shushing loudly.
"Shhh, no, shhh! You're gonna wake Virgil up! That little goth is deprived of sleep as it, we can't be waking spook up."
Aw. Well, that was almost cute.
"Plus, spooks such a stress head, I know if spook wakes up I'll just get chewed out for calling in sick today."
So that's why Remy was still here? Virgil hadn't forgotten their shifts. Little shit. Spook yowled in the utmost distaste, and Remy just narrowed his eyes, hands on hips.
"Don't give me that look, you crusty little feline. You gotta take a day off every once in a while, keep your boss on their toes."
Crusty? How could anyone be so cruel to a little kitten? Virgil hissed in offense, swiping tiny claws towards spooks roommate.
Remy seemed to interpret the dangerous display as an urge to be picked up, as Virgil was once again in spooks roommate's arms - thankfully the hold was no longer on Virgil's scruff and instead cradled in Remy's arms, the gentle kiss to spooks head was vastly different to Remy's usual casual affection.
"C'mon, hissy-boy, let's grab you something to eat. I'll just give ya, yup, there it is. Eat this, babes, hear cats go nuts over this stuff."
Four paws landed on a cheap laminate floor, as Remy placed both the cat and a take-away container of dry chicken down. Huh. At least it was human food? Yeah, it was certainly more appealing than the strange oat food that Virgil was fed the last time a person found spook in kitten form.
"Alright, babes! I think we just became besties, huh? Are you my best friend? I'm gonna tell Virgil I've ditched spook for you. I'm sure I'll be forgiven."
Well, at least that much was true. If Remy had brought home another cat Virgil would have been more than happy to house the little thing, but that wasn't the point! There was no way Virgil would tell Remy about this predicament either, they'd never let spook live it down. Virgil bumps spooks head against Remy's leg gently, to signal spook was finished eating.
"Aw. I guess I'll let you mooch around. Gotta get out of these day clothes," Remy tugged on their pajamas "and into something stylish. B-R-B, kitty cat."
This gave Virgil some time on spooks own, mooching around the apartment - spook never normally left spooks room during these nightly spells, but Virgil didn't realize how different everything would look from down here. Even the chipped coffee table looked like some sort of landmark.
The shower kicked in a few moments later, while Virgil was trying to scale the couch, and spook was quietly happy that spook wasn't sleeping - Remy didn't have a great gauge of how much noise they were making, and had woken Virgil up on multiple occasions.
The time alone have Virgil time to ponder spooks predicament for the millionth time. As inconvenient as this curse is, Janus really could've hit spook with something a lot more deadly - Virgil is thankful for that, at least, but really how long can the bitter mage keep this going? There is a time limit, surely. Virgil can't spend spooks entire life turning into a kitten every night like some mockery of Princess Fiona. Maybe, just maybe, Virgil should speak to Janus again. Not to forgive him. To stop this. Yeah, that was it.
It's Janus that should be asking for Virgil's forgiveness, anyway. It's totally immoral to curse your former best friend and roommate. Probably. In fact, the mage was so far up his own ass with all that philosophy crap, he'd probably go on a long monologue on how perfectly moral this whole situation is while also dressing down the idea of morality or… Something. Virgil kind of tuned out of those debates.
Yeah, no, contacting Janus would be spooks last choice. Virgil was not interested in trying to appeal to their ego again, especially not with Remus around, being a little shit and stoking the flame.
Virgil huffed and tried to find a position that was comfortable to curl up on. Being much smaller only seemed to magnify the lumps and bumps in the old piece of furniture, the stuffing underneath the fake leather was compressed into a texture resembling porridge, and still smelt like the sidewalk spook and Remy dragged it from. Vampires had advanced senses of smell, so could Remy smell this shit all the time? Are they used to it? It was so gross. No wonder Virgil burst out in pimples whenever spook crashed on the couch.
A curt knock rapped on the apartment door. Virgil froze on the couch and tilted spooks head. They weren't expecting anyone, unless Remy decided to pull a 'roommate mega dick move' and invite friends over, in the middle of the night, without telling Virgil.
The mystery person knocked again, but the shower kept running and there were no other indications that Remy heard the door. Virgil tediously jumped down, trying to utilize the powers of this strange body spook was inhabiting to listen in on clues of who this may be-
"Hey, Microsoft-nerd, we aren't knocking on doors! Waking up the neighbours is not the way to get help in feline forage!"
The voice was unfamiliar to Virgil, as was the answering voice, much closer to the door.
"I am aware of the standard procedure, Roman. However, on this occasion, I can sense a fellow vampire is inside and thus there is a high chance they'll answer the door. Though that does not seem to be the case right now…"
"Shoot, can't you use your magic vampire brain to communicate?"
"No, Roman, that only works with fellow coven members. And even then it takes an especially large bond to send comments or instructions. It's mostly feelings of visions of something - like sending the sense of danger out to alert the whole coven to a hostility."
"Ugh,whatever - just post the flyer. Patton is awaiting our return. He's cooking Madras! With venison."
"Roman we have several more apartments to visit -"
Virgil jumped back with a slight squeak, as a menacing object floated from the letter box to where spook was just standing. Once it had landed, Virgil could properly inspect it. It seemed to be a lost poster, with the words MISSING KITTEN in a bold, red font. A stock image of a black kitten graced the front, watermark pasted all over, with an arrow labeling it 'KITTEN LOOKS LIKE THIS' as well as a few paragraphs of text all around, explaining that this kitten had somehow got out of the apartment, that they were a rescue and not at an adoptable age, that they'll seek out warm small areas to keep warm and safe, and very kindly asking residents to keep an eye out. There was a whole $800 listed as reward money.
Virgil's first thought was pity, some poor person had lost a cat they'd tried to rescue, and was clearly trying their best to find the lil thing. Hell, Virgil should probably help look for it tomorrow, eight hundred could really help spook and Remy out this month.
Virgil's second thought, after briefly skimming contact information, was 'oh shit'. 'Please Contact Patton,' was at the bottom, with a telephone number, and beneath that was the apartment number. The apartment that Virgil had crawled out of when snatched by a werewolf.
Patton, that was the werewolf's name. Spook remembers the uncomfortable elevator ride where Patton introduced faemself, there's absolutely no mistaking it, Patton wasn't exactly a super common name. The two at the door were talking about a Patton as well, weren't they? One was a vampire, which didn't make sense, but was the other part of Patton's pack?
This was a lot of trouble to go through for one scrappy kitten, if Remy's theory was true.
Would Patton eat a kitten?
It's not like Virgil knows the were properly, but spook did spend a night with Patton, a night where Patton thought fae was interacting with a real kitten and therefore had no reason to be fake nice to spook. Shit, had Virgil just judged this were on event that even spook didn't think happened?
"Ooh, what'cha got, gurl? You gonna bring me my mail like a lil puppy?" A voice coos, Virgil snapping out of spooks character development to look up at an amused Remy who was perched on the arm of the stinky ass couch.
The vamp was dressed down in lounge wear, though it was glaringly obviously the 'Falling In Reverse' band shirt was Virgil's and not Remy's. Virgil stared distastefully at spooks roommate, grumpy sounds leaving the kittens tiny body. Remy glowered right back, pointing at the creature.
"Oh, you must be Virgil's pet. No one else can embody that much grumpy emo vibes. Spook has a billion tees, I'm just wearing it this once."
That was such a Remy response. Unable to roll spooks eyes at the vampire, Virgil opted to turn back around and paw the flyer once more. Over here, idiot, come read this.
Remy, for once, didn't use his vampire powers to teleport across the room, and instead took a rather leisurely stroll across the room, crouching down to read.
"Hmmm, missing cat… Is that you? Did Virgie steal someone's pet, huh?" They lifted the page closer, inspecting it with pursed lips. Remy's eyes were a very pleasing shade of red behind those shades, it was quite nice to see. Virgil moved closer, seating spookself on Remy's socked foot, and as planned, receiving a pleasant head scratch.
"Wait. Hold the fucking phone, I know that apartment, that's fucking Wolfie's apartment. Holy crap, what a psycho, he's actually putting out lost posters? Did you manage to escape his dinner plate or something?"
Remy scooped the kitten up, holding Virgil close with a protective grumble. Like a feral wolf was going to burst through the door and gobble spook up. Virgil made sure to warble out a disgruntled noise at the vampire.
"Hold your horses, puss-puss, it says here you went missing last Wednesday and that's when Virgil crawled through my window like a creep," Remy held the little body up to eye level, staring so intensely, and for a second was sure Remy was a gorgon with how still spook got. Did they figure it out? How?
"That must've been what spook was doing, rescuing you! Honestly, I didn't think Virge had enough courage to break into a were's house to steal something. Spook can't even say spooks order at the drive thru, so I'm thoroughly impressed."
Well that was both rude and awfully convenient, as much as Virgil trusted spooks roommate on matters of life and death… Honestly, Remy likely wouldn't let Virgil live it down if they found out that spook turned into a tiny kitten each night. Virgil would rather not deal with the embarrassment.
"Come on, you. I wanna watch Grey's Anatomy and I'm not letting you wander round the apartment. You'd probably piss on something."
That was rude. Virgil had excellent control of spooks bladder, thank you very much. Still, this was at least a way to watch the soap without pretending it was cringey, spook supposed. Remy draped across the god awful sofa, falling into a position Virgil had seen spooks roommate in many times, and settled the tiny body of Virgil on his chest. Since Remy didn't have body heat, it was rather like laying on a tiled floor - or having the pillow be permanently cold. Virgil decided spook liked it that way, and a gentle purr started up.
Remy's expression, still trained on the television as they searched for the show, turned down right gooey.
"You cute little thing. You're gonna love watching this, look, Meredith has just gone seeing her dad and Thatcher is there. Not British Thatcher, this one's a dude. Was in Prison Break as well, we can watch that one later."
Maybe this is why Latte ran away. Contrary to what Remy believes, most cats aren't down to sit still and watch endless sitcoms.
As the hours ticked on, Virgil tried many times to sneak away. It seemed Remy was adamant to stay on the couch all night and to keep spook right next to them. Rigorous squirming landed Virgil to be sat in a shoebox full of newspaper - something spook hadn't noticed Remy making before all this - then listening to the vampire repeat a 'potty' command repeatedly. Embarrassingly, Virgil had used it, but only once. Spooks dumbass roommate hadn't given Virgil a single drop of water.
Still pressed against Remy's cold chest, Virgil could barely make out the busted kitchen clock as it struggled its way towards half nine. Shit. Shit, Virgil was screwed.
Hissing and yowling had not worked all night, though Virgil was currently weighing the pros and cons to scratching Remy's eyes out. The vampire in question sighed at spooks dramatics, scooping the kitten up and plonking it back into the DIY litter tray. This time, Remy stood up, stretching long limbs and teasing their curls into an effortless, glamorous bedhead. Red eyes stared into green for a moment before Remy let out a loud yawn.
"You stay there, puss. I need a leak, then I'm gonna cook Virge some breakfast. Try and sweeten spook up before I ask for a feeding, heh."
Aw, that was almost sweet. In a way. Virgil was gonna enjoy that breakfast, if spook could just escape this darn box while Remy was out of the room. Huzzah! Freedom.
The box tilted over, freeing the black kitten, as spook made a mad dash for spooks bedroom, luckily it always had a jar open.
At that moment, the magic began to tingle, signaling to Virgil that time was up, but spook was nearly to the bedroom. Unfortunately, a loud 'hey!' distracted spook, turning to look at the vampire that seemed rather peeved about the cat escaping. A stagger on an uneven rug had Virgil tripping up, unfortunately the transformation completed itself at that moment, meaning Virgil's human body grew itself big enough to smack full force into the door, leaving the emo flat on the floor with a light groan.
The door was pushed with quite some force, hitting the doorstop and coming back to bap Virgil a second time. Brilliant.
Virgil sighed into the cheap olefin carpet, hearing hesitant feet shuffle around to get a better look. Spook bent spooks neck awkwardly, looking at Remy with squinting eyes. The vampire looked completely befuddled, before lips began to curve upwards into a big smile. A big, overly smug smile.
"Oh, babes. You've got some tea to spill!"
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tracybirds · 1 year
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So @squiddokiddo and I got to chatting about aroace Gords bc it's super fun to play with and thus a fic was born :D
This be fic no.2 to say happy birthday Gords and a big thank you to Squiddo for both reading over said fic and for making a wonderful piece of artwork that accompanies it <;3
Enjoy and hope you're having a lovely day celebrating Gords, celebrating your family and friends and however else you like to love those around you!
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There was a certain irony to the day, Gordon knew that. People had expectations about your love life when you were born on Valentine’s Day after all and sometimes it felt like he’d never escape it. It grew tiring explaining over and over that romance had never really clicked for him, having to endure the same reassurances he’d never asked for again and again and again.
It was easier if he just treated it like the great joke of his life, eyes brimming over with mirth when he told people.
“Yeah, Valentine’s Day. I know right! But think about it – right? – the day was already stuffed to the brim with romance, they’d run out by the time it came to giving me some attraction, you know?”
Laughing about it, laughing at it gave him a certain power over the day and one he’d happily exploit.
It didn’t hurt that any new partner in romance that joined their family soon learnt that there was no such thing as Valentine’s Day in the Tracy household, his family binding around him to celebrate a much more important occasion in Gordon’s entirely unbiased opinion.
His birthday gave him a chance to focus on all the people in his life that he loved, no need to create a meaningless hierarchy of relationship.
Still, there was something about Valentine’s that appealed to Gordon, an expectant pause as the world held their breath and believed (just a little more than usual) in love.
He could get behind that at least, even if the whole romance thing didn’t really sit right.
Much more important, in his opinion, was the ever-enduring holiday tradition of making garish homemade cards for all his friends just in case they needed a Gordon Original to remind them of his love.
Gordy was the name and gaudy was the game.
He looked down at the stack of cards he’d made already – an explosion of reds and pinks and paper snowflakes cut into hearts – and narrowed his eyes.
The gold lettering had been a nice touch but really, he knew he needed more sparkle.
“Virgil!” he yelled, darting from the kitchen table and racing the steps two at a time.
His socks slid across the slick floor, sending him careening into the wall more that once before he burst into his brother’s studio.
“Virg, I need your glitter glue, it’s an emergency.”
“Would it kill you to knock,” grumbled Virgil good-naturedly, still poring over his own artwork, not sounding remotely surprised to see Gordon.
“The door was open,” said Gordon with a shrug. “That means you’re available.”
“Not for ‘glitter-glue’ emergencies, I’m not. You’ll have to wait.”
Virgil’s words began to trail off even as he spoke, a deep frown line evident between his brows.
Suddenly he looked up, frowning for a new reason.
“I’m sorry, ‘glitter-glue’?”
“For my valentine cards,” said Gordon impatiently. “Kayo said she and Grandma were flying to the mainland tomorrow morning so long as there weren’t any rescues going and…”
“And it’s already ten p.m. Gordon,” said Virgil with a groan.
“Virgil, please!” squeaked Gordon, hopping up and down on one foot. “I know I’ve left it late, but I didn’t mean to – there was that caving group in Mexico, then there were the seamount explorers last week, and that lab, what was going on there did we ever find out?”
“No, we did not,” said Virgil.
He stood and stretched, his joints cracking loudly as he yawned and peered around the dimly lit room.
“Alright, I’ll go find it, just don’t touch anything.”
“Red or pink if you’ve got it,” called Gordon, but Virgil had already disappeared into the towering storage that held his art supplies.
He looked around the room more out of habit than curiosity, taking in the neatly stacked canvases and the bright floral arrangement at the centre of the room. Virgil had clearly been working it into one of his larger pieces; scattered papers displayed pencil sketches of the bouquet from a variety of angles and now that Gordon was looking for them, he could see glimpses of the flowers all around the room.
Gently he tugged the thick card Virgil had been working on towards him and his eyes widened to see the delicate and crinkled petals of roses beautifully displayed before him in dreamy watercolour.
“I thought I said not to touch anything,” came Virgil’s voice from behind him and Gordon spun on his heel, trying not to look guilty.
Virgil looked more exasperated than angry however, as he handed the supplies over, and Gordon felt himself relax.
“Sorry,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a sheepish grin. “They’re beautiful. Almost alive.”
Virgil said nothing, only cocked his head to one side as he assessed the work himself.
“Almost,” he said at last. “But not quite.”
“Well the day your painting resurrects someone, let me know. I reckon we could make good money out of that.”
Virgil didn’t crack a smile, barely seeming to listen the Gordon.
He was beginning to feel awkward, glitter-glue in his hands – red and pink as he’d requested and more colours besides.
The urgency of his own task beckoned but still, he couldn’t help but linger.
“When did you pick up watercolour again?” he asked, trying to prod his brother into conversation.
“I’ve been taking some classes,” said Virgil, quietly. “Online, at your own pace.”
“Ooh, that sounds like fun,” said Gordon. “Do they have live get-togethers at all?”
There was a beat of silence that stretched out just long enough for Gordon to sit up and pay attention.
The slight uptick in breathing, the distinct pink undertones to his skin, the way his brother’s eyes slid down and avoided his gaze.
“Yes,” he admitted.
“Who are they?” said Gordon, only too delighted to have something to weasel out of him. “Go on, what’s their name? What have you talked about? Do they know you’re an internationally recognised hero who could sweep them off their feet?”
“It’s none of your business, Gordon,” groaned Virgil, burying his face in his hands.
“It is too my business,” he retorted. “We need a new relationship to root for, none of you’ve been dating anyone for months and I need something to gossip about with Grandma.”
“Well, you can keep your mouth shut for now, I’m not telling you anything until I’ve had a chance to talk to the guy.”
“Oh, so it’s a guy,” said Gordon, cackling in delight. “Someone artsy, likes working with his hands maybe, has a good appreciation for nature, perhaps?”
“Oh, yeah right, like you could know any of that.”
Gordon reached down and tapped the watercolour card.
“You’re painting him flowers Virg, and you clearly care that they’re the best you can do.”
He grinned suddenly. “Plus, I know your type.”
“And you can leave now," announced Virgil, his cheeks burning as he pushed Gordon out of the room. “Go make your friends their cards.”
“Thanks Virgil,” called Gordon, waving the glitter-glue as the door was promptly shut in his face.
He grinned and opened his comm.
“Hey, Grandma? Want to help me make my Valentines?”
“If that means you have dirt on your brothers, then say no more kid.”
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ditipatri · 1 year
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Caristia, or Cara Cognatio, “Dear Relatives”, is a Roman festival celebrated on the 22nd of February to finalize the sacred week of ancestral worship of Parentalia. The celebration was marked by its highest degree of privacy as the Lares, Lari Domestici, and one’s deceased relatives were properly reunited with after the long week of veneration of the dead. Sacrificial activities, return to the temple devotion, and offerings that once again included burning of incense, prohibited during Parentalia, marked the period of exiting the mourning rites for the Romans and entrance of a calmer, private, family-focused celebration of Cara Cognatio. 
The very idea behind Cara Cognatio lies in an Ancient pre-Roman concept of animism, which was a belief that everything, including inanimate objects, possesses a “soul” or a spirit inhabiting it, which the Ancient Romans would refer to as numen, plural - numina. This entity inhabiting everything within Ancient Roman perspective would be one to negotiate with and build a good relationship with, as the spirit possessed the ability to bless or curse those who, respectively, treated Them well or disrespected Them. 
Numina appeared to Romans in a vast number of forms. Although, some of Them, such as Chthonic forces, did not possess human form. Some, such as ancestral spirits and household Gods, could interfere with the daily life of Their family or household. Not honoring the spirits on proper occasions when the time of interaction of the human world and the spirit world came around would be considered offensive and enraged spirits could avenge those who did not properly venerate Them. 
The Roman worldview seemed to place Gods and spirits of the household alike into the caretaking, protective roles: They were interested in keeping the families of Rome safe and secure and, thus, the families were supposed to participate in proper rites to appease the Gods and the spirits alike. Households were believed to thrive when the ancestral spirits were venerated well whereas those deemed unlucky were believed to suffer due to lack of proper devotion put into venerating their ancestral companions. 
Caristia is described in a number of Roman works of literature, such as Aulularia by Plautus or Fasti by Ovid. The latter pays special attention to the involvement of both legendary Aeneas and the Emperor Augustus into the celebration, thus creating a paternal connection between the Emperor and his people. Writings of the time mark that Caristia was a time to settle family feuds and arguments in favor of unification and quiet worship. 
While many Roman festivals held no restriction to involvement of strangers, this one is an exception: strangers are not permitted to honor the Lares. 
Cara Cognatio remained on the calendar long after the Roman Empire became Christian because Caristia was not incompatible with Christian habits such as the consumption of bread and wine at the tomb, which found its place in the Holy Eucharist. Up until the first half of the sixth century AD some Gallo-Romans still followed a part of the feast with food offerings to the dead and a ritual meal.
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It should be said that Lares were not the only spiritual forces venerated by the Romans in reference to protection of the house, the family, and the state: other spirits as such included Panes & Penates, Parentes, Manes, Lemures, Genius, Genius Loci, Umbrae, and all the rest. We can witness how seriously Romans took protection of the houses and the cities they inhabited from the fact that they had numerous Deities of specifically Roman and Etruscan origin that dealt with protection of the house and the state, some of whom are: 
🗝 Janus, God of beginnings, gates, and doorways. 🗝 Vesta, Goddess of the hearth and home. 🗝 Cardea, Goddess of hinges. 🗝 Forculus, God of the door itself, especially double doors. 🗝 Limentinus, God of the threshold. 🗝 Terminus, God of boundaries and borders.
Janus and Vesta received state-supported celebrations through Virgin Vestals and the general population of Rome, but home-based, personal worship and devotion were just as important. 
The Lares, venerated during Cara Cognatio, were the guardian spirits of one’s household that were also considered the spirits of the dead ancestors from various eras of the past. Believed to come from a nymph named Lara or Larunda, sometimes referred to or conflated with Acca Larentia or, in some myths, Dea Tacita. They were meant to keep the families strong and households secure. Some stories refer to Lares as multiple children of Mercury, though this needs to be attested further. Like other spirits of the Roman era, Lares were split into a large number of specific group of spirits, each of whom took care of a particular part of Roman routine, and here are some examples: 
🗝 Lares Augusti, the spirits looking after the Emperor and his family. 🗝 Lares Hostilii, the spirits protecting the city from its enemies. 🗝 Lares Militares, guardian spirits in the army and during the journey. 🗝 Lares Patrii, possibly the equivalent of dii patrii (deified ancestors) who were worshiped during Parentalia. 🗝 Lares Permarini, spirits of protection against danger at sea. 🗝 Lares Praestites, spirits who look after Rome, then the state and the community. 🗝 Lares Publici, protecting the whole city. 🗝 Lares Privati, protecting private homes. 🗝 Lares Rurales, taking care of the fields. 🗝 Lares Urbani, taking care of the state. 🗝 Lares Viales, spirits guarding the roads and their crossroads.
Other household spirits, Manes, Penates, Parentes, and the rest received due veneration on other occasions as Roman Polytheism is a highly well-structured religious formation that had established Their own sacred festival or rites for every group of spirits venerated. 
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As it has already been stated, the Gods connected to protection of the city and the families received rich state-supported celebrations on Their days of veneration. Janus and Vesta had Their own worshippers and state-supported religious circles that took care of Their temples, altars, and rites being treated well. State festivals and the honors due to the Gods were readily handled by the pontifices (priests), the pontifex maximus (high priest), the rex sacrorum (king of sacred things), the augures (diviners), and the minor priests of the individual Deities known as the flamines. One of the most popular flamines, for example, would be Flamen Quirinalis, dedicated to maintaining rites of the God Quirinus venerated in Rome. 
These authorities had the job of honoring the Gods well in state perspective while it was up to each individual household (specifically the head of that household, usually the father of the family) to honor their own spirits. Roman Polytheism was based on the ideas of quid pro quo, or favor for a favor, and concepts of pax deorum and ire deorum. This implies that Roman citizens believed that as long as one paid proper respect to one’s household spirits and Gods alike, one would enjoy good health and prosperity as manifestations of spiritual and Divine blessings. 
Lares as one’s deceased ancestors were known as Lares Familiares (spirits of the family) or Lares Domestici (spirits of the home) but also were acknowledged in protecting the community, Lares Compitales, and got honored at the Compitalia in December. Daily prayers and offerings were made to the Lares throughout the year but elaborate rituals were enacted on special days such as a birthday, wedding, anniversary, departure or return from a journey. When a family moved permanently from one house to another, the Lares, Panes, and Penates would move with them.
The families would throw banquets to honor their Lares where, dressed in white, they would consume food together with their deceased ancestors, exchanging gifts afterwards and sometimes giving small pouches of money to the servants who were also sometimes seen as a part of the family. Feasts were held at home and at graveyards alike, thus symbolizing the eternal bond between the living and the deceased. Lara statues were placed on the table, which proves that Their presence was believed to be beneficial to the privacy of the home. In the evening, before going to sleep, the master of the household, usually the father, poured wine on the lararia of the house as a libation, then drinking to the health of the ancestors. Offerings at the household shrines included: doll-like figurines, cakes, wine, incense, and flowers. 
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I would like to offer some of my own ideas as to how to honor one’s household spirits in respect to Roman tradition. I suggest some offerings to give: 
🗝 Food: cakes, different kinds of wine, honey, milk, pomegranates, and pastries or other kinds of sweets containing honey, milk, nuts, or substitutes if you are allergic.  🗝 Crafts: knitted and sewn objects, handmade gifts, homemade incense blends, protective dolls and other figurines made out of clay, wood, or other material of choice.  🗝 Incense: frankincense, rose, terebinth, cinnamon, rosemary, myrrh, cedarwood, gold and black copal, vanilla, marjoram.  🗝 Flowers: roses, myrtle, poppies, artemisia, orchids, lillies, forget-me-nots, lilacs, chrysanthemum, gladioli, hyacinths, violets, oleanders, aconitum.  🗝 Miscellaneous objects: personal or shared possessions, objects the deceased loved in life, and other customized offerings. 
And I also suggest that you make specific and personalized offerings as well as devote your time to your specific ancestral spirits in ways that are unique to you and Them, seeing that every family is an individual formation with their own customs and history. 
Sources in my pinned. 
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virglsweb · 1 year
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Something I noticed while rewatching Sander's Sides is that each side's name rhymes with another's except Virgil.
Logan, Roman, and Patton (AKA the light sides) all rhyme.
Remus and Janus (AKA the dark sides) both rhyme.
What my theory is is that Virge has actually always been split between the dark and light sides. I believe he just stuck with the dark sides because they were first to notice him when he was Paranoia. They enjoyed his dark persona, and had him created into a dark side. Then, when they started ignoring him, he went to the light sides to see if they were better. With Roman's insults, Logan calling him a defeatist, Patton treating him like a child, and Thomas getting annoyed by him, he gave up on trying to fit in with either of the sides, giving us Accepting Anxiety part 1 and part 2. Once the light sides proved him they do enjoy him, and accepted his name (even though Roman laughed a bit) he decides to hang with them until the dark sides could do better than them.
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sezzlelot · 22 days
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The fact that he led us to major trophies over the 12 years he was at the club, and filled the shoes that no one wanted to straight after SG leaving, winning us our first premier league title in 30 years, the leadership he has shown through out the course of his time as captain at this club, reduced to this.
A bunch of keyboard warriors battering another human beings self worth to think that he was the issue last season?
We win as a team, we lose as a team, we create chances as a team, we make changes as a team.
Personally his loss at summer still guts me, I don’t think he was ever given the respect he deserved for the leader he was for our club, and by whom I mean “fans” he made it his life and even when things were going well “fans” would still find fault with him, what are you to do with that?
For me taking that armband, after a scouser having held it for however long, even though it was given to him by the man himself was never enough for some people.
The absolute pressure of it.
The support he was to the lads in the academy Trent, Curtis, they all speak highly of him. The relationship he held with Millie, Virg, and Robbo the respect, the unit they were as senior players, yet people can’t see it but we’ll cling onto other things won’t we, we’ll jump on the hate campaigns.
Don’t you remember the branding him a “racist” that went on last season, the get him out my club. No innocent until proven guilty for your captain then was there. You’re not real fans you never were to think that of him.
It saddens me that people feel the need to pull other people down.
He gave everything for the club, maybe it was his time if he wasn’t happy to have less game time then call him egotistical but find me a player at such a high level club that would be happy to be riding the bench.
It’s a competitive sport they WANT to play they don’t train and dedicate everything to it otherwise.
To dwindle on a bench.
Has he physically harmed anyone by the choices he’s made this past year, no.
If he had stayed the respect he deserves still wouldn’t have been put on his name.
Being in his corner is where you’ll find me.
If you don’t like it or agree with me fine. You don’t need to stick around.
But he’s forever my Captain #YNWA
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gumnut-logic · 1 year
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Good Numbers
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I has new fic! Completed fic! Yay!
This is what used to be called Math. So the first 400 words might be familiar, but it is now completed to its full 1500 words :D So many thanks to all those who commented and encouraged me on that post to complete this one ::hugs you all tight::
It is also a sequel to Play, so apparently I have created another series or AU or something again. You would think out of my genius choices VT Green would be a series by now, but noooo. I have given it thought though and there is an idea...
Many, many thanks to @onereyofstarlight​  for the help with the math and the ensuing discussion that contributed heavily to the end of this fic.
Warnings for Scott!whump, loving brothers and math things.
I hope you enjoy :D
-o-o-o-
“Scott! Talk to me!”
Virgil sunk his boot into the mud only to have the water well up and over its brim.
Warm, slimy, and god forbid full of things that would be quite happy to either gnaw on him or curse him with a deadly disease.
Thank goodness for his watertight, airtight and everythingtight uniform in situations like these.
That hopefully never happened again.
“Scott, I know you’re there.” He clambered over the remains of a wooden house, now buried in mud and slime, at the very edge of a lahar that had swept most of the village away.
And trapped his brother.
“Goddamnit, Scott, answer me!” He had to be there. Two’s scans had pinpointed him!
There was a moan, barely heard over comms.
“C’mon, Scotty, I’m nearly there. Please talk to me.” His words came out more as gasps as he forced his way through the massive pile of debris. There was only one life sign and it was his brother.
Didn’t mean his was the only body in the mud. Virgil grit his teeth and pushed himself forward.
“V…irg?” Barely a whisper.
Breath rushed out of his lungs. “Good to hear your voice.” He yanked aside the remains of a thatched roof.
Damn.
His brother was caught in a natural gathering point, where the wave of water and mud had pushed some of the village’s buildings into a corner and piled them there. It was clear on scans, but seeing it in reality hurt.
Scott was in that?
He refused to acknowledge the task ahead and the horrible possibilities.
He had Two, her pods, and he was going to get his brother out of…that.
Water filled up his boots as he sunk further into the mud.
“Scott, can you give me a status report?”
He received another groan in answer.
“Report, Thunderbird One.”
“Virg, god…I’m stuck.” There was a sudden edge of hysteria in his wavering voice. “Can’t see. Underwater!”
Shit.
“I’m coming.” He poked hurriedly at his wrist control and directed the module back on Two to assemble a pod and to grab his exosuit.
He missed Gordon. Missed his help, missed his co-pilot, but Gordon was stuck at home recovering and Alan and John were out fishing a tourist liner out of the asteroid belt.
It came down to Virgil.
He dragged himself through grey slush.
The incoherent sounds on the commline, raised his hackles as the pod approached.
“Scott, talk to me.”
A very uncharacteristic whimper was his only reply.
“Scott?”
He clambered into the pod and, throwing up a holographic scan of the pile of debris, began removing the pick-up sticks one by one.
“Virg?” Barely a whisper.
The terror in his name froze Virgil’s heart.
But fortunately his heart wasn’t in his emergency response procedure. He moved without thought, the pod an extension of his body.
“I’m coming.”
He needed to get to his brother.
Water and mud continued to slosh in the distance as the dregs of the lahar continued to drain down the mountain. His failure to shore up the crater lake at the top of the volcano was something he couldn’t face right now.
Save Scott.
Blame later.
The harsh breath on the other end of the commline…
“Scott, count for me.”
“Virgil, I-“
“Count by prime.” The pod claws carefully lifted the remains of another roof off the pile.
“2.” The number was shaky. “3, 5, 7, 11…”
Virgil grunted as the pod strained under the weight of too much. He had to slow down.
Slow down.
“…37, 41, 43, …47,…” His brother’s voice faded on 53.
“Scott! Root of 49?!”
Even injured, there was a slight huff of derision over comms. “7.”
The pod claws lifted off another pile, dripping with mud and water.
“Root 125.”
There was silence a moment, followed by a gasp, and a stronger voice. “11.2.”
One word. “Pi.”
And the numbers rattled across comms, sometimes breathless, but there.
Virgil used the time to climb out of the pod and don his exosuit. He was getting closer, so he needed to be more precise. His heads-up display marked the stressors, the support beams and the outline of his brother buried in muck and water.
I’m coming.
Time became a blur of numbers, mud, and broken buildings.
And problems. “How fast can Thunderbird One make it from Tracy Island to London carrying Thunderbird Four?”
Scott sputtered and drew in a harsh breath.
But the numbers came.
“Three to the moon and back, slingshot trajectory?” These were things his big brother calculated automatically in his head every time they were called out. Sure, they had the computing power, but Virgil knew his brother.
He liked to test himself.
And by this time, Virgil was chanting his own math in his head. Time, structural weight, probabilities of collapse, time, severity of injury, time…
Time was always the most crucial factor.
Scott’s voice began to fade again in the middle of spouting re-entry trajectories.
Nearly there.
Nearly there.
He threw a chunk of child’s bedroom across the sullen grey landscape.
“Scott? Zero point nine to infinity does not equal one.”
“Virgil!” It was gasped out. “Goddamnit!” As expected there was much more life in that voice now. “It’s been proven!”
“I don’t care.” A grunt as he finally removed the last of the wooden and palm thatched roofing off the space holding his brother.
And his heart stopped.
Only the very top of Scott’s helmet was visible above water-clogged mud, one gloved hand weakly waving about seeking purchase.
Virgil scrambled to gently lift off the beam holding his brother under.
Hydraulics hissed as Virgil lifted with everything he had.
The beam was airborne and Scott was clawing to the surface, faceplate still covered in mud.
Virgil shed his exosuit, not even acknowledging the crack of wood and wet splat as it dropped behind him. Stepping as lightly as the sucking mud would let him, he slipped over the broken remains of someone’s home and finally reached his brother.
“Sit still.” He gently gripped Scott’s shoulders. The man was gasping as Virgil dragged the underside of his uniform sleeve across his brother’s faceplate, letting light in on a pale face.
Wide blue terrified eyes stared back at him.
Virgil fumbled for his mediscanner, mud in and on everything. The flickering yellow light lit up brightly against the grey sludge.
But numbers bounced back to him. A severe concussion, extensive bruising…he let out a thankful if amazed breath…most of the numbers were good numbers. His brother was in one piece. He didn’t know how the hell that was possible but he thanked whatever fate or deity had shone down favourably on them this time.
In gratitude, he flipped the catches on Scott’s dented helmet and gently slipped it off.
“Virgil.” It was said with breath and no shortage of love.
Virgil responded by pulling him close and they sat there in the mud and slime for a whole second or two.
Relief leaked out of the corner of Virgil’s eyes.
The rush of water and creaking wood were the only sounds.
But they were enough.
The yellow of the pod he had discarded behind him was a single bright spot in the grey haze of post-apocalyptic hell. Two, in the distance beyond, faded into the greenery as much as One’s silver hull did into the haze.
“C’mon, let’s get you out of here.” Virgil’s mud-caked uniform dripped as he stood up and planted his boots as securely as he could.
Scott stared up at him, a single flick of mud on one sweaty cheekbone.
“I’m going to carry you to the pod.” He waited for Scott’s acknowledgement.
“Okay.” Those blue eyes stared up at him, Scott’s lack of decisive movement or even objection so uncharacteristic, Virgil had to hold back pulling out the scanner again.
Virgil reached down and, bending at his knees, slid his arms into the mud and under his brother, scooping him up as carefully as he could.
Scott was a tall man, but he was more lanky than weighty, and while John received all the taunts for being the noodle of the family, honestly Scott was pretty much the same kind of pasta. He just hid it behind big brotherhood.
Virgil stabilised the weight in his arms and Scott let his likely aching head drop onto Virgil’s mostly mud free shoulder.
Mostly.
Holding his brother close, Virgil made his way out of the slush and grief towards the yellow beacon on the shore.
“Virg?”
“Yeah?” He yanked a boot from the suckering mud.
“It does equal one.” Quiet and breathless.
“What?”
“Zero point nine nine to infinity.”
Virgil didn’t have the spare brainpower to roll his eyes. “Does not.’
“It does. Been proven.”
“As I have said on many an occasion, big brother, I don’t care.”
“It does.”
“Doesn’t.”
“Does.”
“Doesn’t.”
“It’s logical.”
“Don’t care.”
“The math is right.”
“Your math is weird.”
“My math is right.”
“You have a concussion.”
“I know.” Scott swallowed, his head almost buried in the crook of Virgil’s neck. “Still right.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
-o-o-o-
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