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thecandywrites · 1 year

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Monster March 2023 Day 14- Harpy

My Harpy, My Moura

When I saw this prompt and when I looked it up. I went 'well damn, I'm gonna totally write more moura stuff because, I mean, a harpy is a maiden with the wings and talons of a bird of prey who flew as fast as the wind. And to the Greeks and Romans who would have been transported at the time of the Black Plague, they totally would have seen a moura and immediately gone 'Ah! You're a harpy! You're a freind!' and this would have totally happened. And humans, unfortunately, being humans, we can be as dangerous as we are friendly sometimes. So we see that here too.

Thanks to @borealwrites for their Monster March 2023 prompts. I'm still having a lot of fun. I know I'm a whole five days behind. But I'm still gonna try to catch up.

Monster March 2023 Day 14- Harpy

My Harpy, My Moura.

Thalis felt like this was the first festival since the convergence, that he actually felt he wasn’t an alien on an alien world.

The land that they settled was close enough to the land he knew of as the Mediterranean. The climate was close enough. The food they brought from home was changing in flavors because of the similar but still different soil they were grown in. But they had the basics. Grapes to make wine, olives to make olive oil, wheat to grow bread and make pasta and of course barely and other grains for porridge. Pomegranates, figs, onions, garlic, chickpeas and cabbage as well as the traditional herbs and many new ones that were native here and added to the flavors of the traditional foods and flavors they used to have and now had. It had good pasturage for their many kinds of livestock. And a sea that of course had all the fish and seafood they had already known and now new kinds that were just as if not more delicious.

He was little when it happened. He remembered the old sea. He remembered the old world as it had been and he remembered the old night sky and and the old constellations. Before everything changed. The world as he knew it was no more. There was so much more to it. And more kinds of people than he knew there ever could be. And the most surprising was that all tales of mermaids, minotaurs, harpies, giants, and even unicorns. It was all real here and no longer myths and legends or the pantheon of gods on Mount Olympius.

But so far, it was the harpies that were the biggest and most special and spectacular surprise here.

Back on Earth, they had been known as beings with the faces of women, but wings and talons of eagles. Who flew as fast as the fastest winds in a squalling storm.

But here? No, they were both the fairest of maidens or the most handsome of young men. They could have wings of angels or transform into any bird they wanted.

And what they loved most, were parties, and feasts and to dance. And they always wore clothes that while they looked, at first glance like whatever everyone else always wore, upon closer look, and especially touch, the fabric, was always softer. The details on the clothes and shoes, close but not quite perfectly authentic and original, but if anything, much better and much more discrete but lavish. When they took a human looking form, you could always tell. They looked almost too perfect. But not in any uncanny or even off putting way. But if anything, they were the kind of people that drew others to them. Even when they always seemed to come in groups but usually the more they ate, and drank the looser the groups would get and while they were weary of every being alone or outnumbered, one in particular, Thalis found that once they locked their gazes, it was as if no one else was there or mattered. It was as if when he looked at her, he saw her and her beautiful bright heart and soul. Her name was Athanasia.

She was just…she looked like the daughter of a goddess. She had the perfect eyes, they were both green yet blue. Like the sea on a bright sunny day. The kind of eyes he felt like he wanted to sail into for eternity. She wore her toga in a way that was both modest, but it had this beautiful embroidery on the edges and when he had been brave enough to simply brush up against her clothes while they went down the line of feasting foods, it was the softest material he had ever touched. When she danced, her smile was a white as the clouds and whiter than the white of her pearls she wore on her gold necklace. Her hair hung in ringlets, that he felt he could spend hours wrapping around his fingers when he wasn’t licking the grease from her own or even the sweet wine from her lips.

When the dancing came, he was the first to grab her hand and join her in the circle of dancers. And the moment he got to touch her hand, it was like he couldn’t let go. Her hands were so soft, like she had never toiled in hard labor but the strength in arms, and the rest of her, was as if she was strong, and worked hard, all the time. Her stamina, was as if she was in a limitless supply of it. Her accent wasn’t perfect but she spoke enough of his language that it seemed she was learning more and more of every time he saw her. But her accent only made her that much more enchanting and more alluring. And he found he didn’t want to leave her side once he found a chance to sit next to her and talk with her during the feast. Helping her learn the names of the dishes he and his mother, and sisters and grandmothers had made. And the goats and sheep they had butchered, slathered with spices and roasted over flames.

But to him and to his community, she was one of the ‘harpy people’. They would come and go with the breezes, would come for the feasts and parties, and always gracious gifts of golden figurines at weddings. But as much as their physical gifts were prized, it was her physical presence he appreciated the most because every moment he was with her, he felt like he was in the presence of a goddess from Mount Olympus itself. He might as well have been in Aphroditie’s presence herself. He didn’t need to drink more wine, he was already drunk off of her. And as the sun set and the fires started and the wine was flowing but she never seemed to drink much more either. She just still kept a grip on his hand and he was liable to follow wherever she would take him.

But when those who called to her in their native language, that they should go home. He felt her hand start to let go of his own.

"Please, tell me what it will take for you to stay." He pleaded.

"I cannot stay, I must go home." She offered apologetically.

"There must be something. Please, tell me what I can do to prove that you are safe to stay with me." He pleaded.

"Thalis, you have only been with me for a day. It was a good day. But now it is night. I must go home. Please do not spoil the good by trying to keep me here when I need to go." She pleaded back.

"Do you really want to leave me and go?" He asked.

"It is not that I fear you alone. But I fear your family and your village and community. I have seen their lust for my gold and pearls and beauty. And I fear you only want me for my beauty too." She admitted as her looks began to scrunch in weariness and distrust.

“You are beautiful. But your heart and soul are more beautiful than any other.” He professed which caused hope to return to her eyes.

“Then prove it by letting me go tonight. You will see me again. Let this be the beginning of something much longer than what today was and how long tonight would have been if I stay tonight. Because if I stay with you tonight, I can’t come back.” She pleaded with him.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because you know me as a harpy. And if I stay with you tonight, I will not be able to hide who and what I really am. If I reveal that I am more than a harpy than that opens me and my family and my friends up to great danger. And so far, those that have revealed what we really are, after we do, we are never safe in that place with those people ever again. Because when they really see what we really are, they wish to lock us into cages, and chain us as slaves. And I do not want you and your people to do the same. I do not want to prove that you and your family and your wonderful town and community will be like all the rest. Not unless I can have a chance to really know them and know them well enough I can learn to trust that maybe you and your family, and your town and your community. But that takes time. Give me time. But in order to do that, you have to let me go right now.” She explained before he finally let her go and took a step back.

“You are worth waiting for. For however long it takes. I can not offer much. I am only a shepherd boy. Who can only build a cottage of stones. I do not care about the gold or the pearls or the beauty on your face and in your body. But about the heart and soul I see beyond them.” He insisted.

“Then that is why I will see in the morning. Go home. Get sleep. And know that I hope one day, I will be able to see the same thing and say the same words back to you and really mean them.” She offered before she leaned forward to simply put her hand to his face before she pressed a soft sweet kiss to his lips but transformed into a bird and slipped through his fingers when he reached for her more.

He watched as a beautiful bird soon rejoined the group of others that were circling close and practically vanished into the night.

But true to her word, she was back the next day, learning the names of all the foods they used and how they used them. She was learning his language better and her clothes were much more humble at first glance but she wore two layers to them. The first was the average color and texture he was used to.

But the smile she gave him when she saw him, lit him up from the inside out. He was so happy that she came back, granted she was not alone. She had a brother with her who seemed weary of him and the others. But who seemed to understand, if not tolerate him approaching and talking to her.

“So, shepherd boy. Show me your flock.” She invited before he did. He brought her to his sheep and introduced them all by name and their new lambs that had just been born the month before.

From then on. She seemed to come and find him, wherever he was, the only warning she was coming was a fluttering of wings and feathers and then, poof she was there.

And slowly but surely, his family was happy to adopt her as one of their own. And the trust she had talked about at first, was starting to become reality. And while they were lucky to have a table full of food, she could sense the sadness they still felt about their homeworld and how much they wanted to go home and had hope that they could some day.

“I must go and I will be gone for a while.” She said one day as she helped him collect stones in the pasture so they could build that stone cottage he was always hoping to build for them.

“Why?” He asked.

“I know why you and your other humans were taken from your world called “Earth”. It was to save it from the Black Plague. But the plague is not cured yet. You and the other humans are here until it is. But…back on my homeworld, it was not like Earth. There was no dry land. Only ever a sky and the sea. No land. And here, now we have dry land. But this world…this world is so much better to us than our home world. We do not miss it. This is…this is so much bigger, the skies are bigger, the sun that feeds me and feeds my family and my other people. It’s so much better than our old one. And while there is a cure to the Red Plague. We do not wish to go back. And we have decided to stay here should the time come for the other four worlds to go back. But so far, the people who have hunted me and my kind the most so far, have been the humans of Earth. The fact that I’m here, my family is not happy and neither are my friends or anyone else in my community. And while the last few months have proven to me that I am safe with you and your family. I do not wish to tempt greed. Greed for wealth or power that others who have hunted us, hunt us for. You are not a hunter, you are a nurturer. And I trust you not to ever use me or keep me in a cage. And if anything, gathering stones with you so that we can build a house together, that will not be a cage of stone, but a home of love. Means I have made my choice. But in order to do that, I must make my choice known to the others. They will have to decide if I can ever rejoin them, or if I leave them to be with you, I will need to choose you and your family over mine. And I will only ever be known as a harpy. And I will have to continue to live a lie to your family. But only because the truth of what I really am has proved that the real monsters brought here, really start to show themselves, no matter how handsome or ugly their outer form is.” She explained.

“I know you as a Harpy. So does my family. And if that’s all they need or want to know about you, then so be it. But, if you are…giving up everything else for me. Please, tell me, so that I will make sure that every moment I spend with you, I make sure that you know and are treated as the piece of treasure without measure that I know you are, no matter if you are human, harpy, siren, whatever.” He said.

“I’m not a harpy. I am what’s called a moura. We came from the waterworld with the merfolk. We were in the heavens, they were in the waters. The waters were turning poisonous for them. We got moved here with them. The waters have since been cured. But since then, we have all asked the people who brought us here, if we can stay here because here is better than our home, and we have all been eager and ready to forget the past and embrace the present and try to build a future here and accept this as it is. But I need to also learn when the next attempt to converge the remaining worlds will happen. And I can only find that information out, if I fly to them and ask and it’s many days journey from here. I need to know this, because if it’s many years away, I can spend a lifetime with you. But if it’s close, it would be best to wait and see if it’s successful and if you will choose to go home with everyone else who is eager to go back too. But the people who made the convergence possible, have told us that we should not go back to Earth with you and so far, we have agreed with that, across our entire species.” She explained as she sat on the boulder with the rock in her hand as she turned it over in her hands, appreciating the color and texture of it.

“So you too must make a choice. Either me and any home and family we may have in the future right here, or your old home on Earth. Because neither I, nor our children can go back with you when and if there is a chance for the Black Plague to be cured and for the humans to go back to Earth. I know you would keep me safe and keep our children safe as long as you would live, but once you die, others will not love us enough to keep us safe and we would be in danger all over again and all alone with no one else with us. Because so far, everyone who is moura has already decided that because humans from Earth have been our greatest hunters so far, that if and when Earth and the humans that came into this superworld from it can go home, none of us should go too. For we would be hunted to death. So, while I’m gone, I need for you to make that choice too. Will you choose me and this world, and a home we would build together- over your home world, and your Earth? I know your family is still keeping the language and the traditions and the culture of you and your people alive here, even in another world, as are mine. But still, a question needs to be asked and answered and a choice should be made, based on the answer.” She decided.

“Why are you hunted? For your beauty?” He asked.

“Yes. That, and this.” She said before she turned the stone in her hands into solid gold and gave it to him.

“Moura can take the sunshine here, and turn the dry land, into gold. Which is, to humans from Earth, what every war has ever been about. And why so far, every moura is never safe among humans they do not know and trust not to chain us up or keep us locked up to keep changing rocks into gold. And I do not wish to be the next to do so, and I do not want such a life for my children either. So think. Think very carefully. Ok? And when I come back with my answer, I will ask my question and I will need another answer from you either way.” She said before she went to walk away.

“Wait.” Thallis asked as he reached for her.

“Turn it back. Turn it back to rock.” He urged her as he put the rock into her hands before she did.

“As far as I will tell everyone else I know. Is that you are a harpy. Simply a maiden with the wings of an angel who flies as fast as the wind. I am happy and content with my flock and I am happy and content with you as my wife. I do not care if the time is short or long. If this world is your home. It will be mine too. And when my family has the choice to go back, they will choose how they want to. But I, I will always choose you. And I will always choose any family you give me than the one I was born from. And for as long or as short as they can or need to be, they can be one or two. But whichever family includes you, is the family I will chose. And if here is where you and any child you bear me needs to stay and needs to be protected, so be it. We have stones to build a house, we have ground to build a garden and we have ways of keeping clothes on our backs and a roof over our heads and food in our bellies and that is enough. That will always be enough. What is gold is simply dust, or mud or dirt on my sandals when compared to the love I have for you. I will keep your secret if it means your peace and safety with me. I will take it to my grave here. There is no need for you to wait to get my answers. For those are my answers now and they will be my answers for the rest of my life.” Thallis insisted as tears welled and fell from her eyes as the stone fell and was discarded before she joined her lips with his and kissed him as urgently, lustfully and as deeply as she could and they could not get down to the field of soft grass fast enough as he watched as her once humble clothing practically vanished and her utterly divine body was beared to him. And while his skin was burned and tanned from the sun, she didn’t care. She didn’t care if she was out in the open and vulnerable or if her family and friends could see her from the cloud realm or not.

He loved her, she loved him. And they were choosing each other. And that’s all that mattered.

He let her mount him as she pleased. And when she did, he saw the most…magical thing ever, it was like sunshine bloomed in stings of whitish gold all around her before they soon began to envelop him. And that’s when he really saw it. The gold collar like necklace around her neck. She was so much more than any fable of a harpy. She was her. She was moura. But what’s more is that she was his, his Athanasia.

When he came, the light she emitted got brighter but the orgasm she had shown in the lights. It was like touching the heavens, and being in them. And now he understood. He understood why such precious beings would be hunted, because they were the personification of heaven.

And he would be damned to hell itself if he ever let the wonderful being above him was ever going to be in any danger from anyone or anything again. He would protect her from all harm, from anyone and everyone, even his own family. She was his family. And with her, he would make a family of his own, should his humble seed take root in her otherwise heavenly womb.

She laid on him as she recovered as the lights slowly faded.

“So…lot’s of curtains, lots of very heavy, thick curtains, to keep all the light in the house.” He surmised which earned a pleased giggle and hum of approval.

“Yeah.” She grinned.

“Do you really need to know when the next..whatever is going to happen?” He asked.

“Last I heard, it was really only supposed to be for a few years. But it’s been over a decade and a half. So now I’m going to go see how long until they try again. I’ll be gone for only a week or so ok because I want to know when they’re going to try again. Just to be prepared.” She reassured him before her moura cloak became her real moura clothes before she helped him back to his feet.

“So…this is you? This is what and who you really are?” He asked as he gestured to her in all her heavenly glory.

“Yeah. Is this a secret you think you can keep for the rest of your life?” She asked.

“It’s a secret I will take to my grave.” He swore.

“Thank you.” She thanked him and he actually got to see her take to the air, before she took on another bird form and flew off.

That week was the longest week of his life, but one that he took to do something.

He dug a good well. And he used the stones they had collected and built a foundation. Then he fell some trees to really build up the house when he wasn’t cementing each stone into place.

Every bird he heard, got his attention and every one that wasn’t her, was his profound disappointment.

But then, he heard the sound of wings, that were bigger then footsteps and then a shadow onto the stones he was putting in as a floor.

“It looks good Thallis.” Athi praised.

“Oh my goodness, you’re back.” He rejoiced and dropped what he was doing to frame her beautiful face with his hands and kissed her like the starved man he was, because his heart and soul ached when she had been gone.

“And? Did you get your answer?” He asked.

“I did. They won’t try again for another 85 years.” She answered.

“More than long enough to have a rich full life, no?” He smiled happily.

“Yes. And what’s more, is I talked with my family and friends. They agree that as long as I stay with the understanding that I am your harpy, and not your moura, that they can use that to keep me in the family and that they can still come and visit and I don’t have to be cut off from them, nor they from me. They understand that I have chosen you as my mate. And that should anything happen here, or to us, that our children will always have a place of safety with them in the heavens should the surface get too dangerous for them, because while the people who brought Humans here, tried to give this section of the supersphere to them, that most mimicked Earth, and that there are other places on the whole of the supersphere that they have done so for the others. You know as well as I do, some have a hunger and thirst for conquest. And humans are not immune to such things. But now instead of humans trying to conquer other humans in one world. Now you have five worlds worth of peoples, all eager to conquer more than their fair share and that the longer the spheres stay converged, and the more intermarrying the species do, the harder it will be when there is a separation of them, but they predicted that such things would be an issue centuries from now. So not within our lifetimes, but perhaps in a few generations. They will need to be careful and cautious.” She explained.

“Then we will be too. Do you think this will be big enough for now?” He asked as he gestured to the foundations of the house.

“Well that depends,” she answered with a small scheming smile as she appraised it.

“On?” He asked.

“How many children do we want to have together?” She asked.

“As many as you want.” He answered.

“Good, because I want many.” She smiled before she picked up one of the other stones and worked with him in setting them down into the floor of the house, as they worked side by side, building their future together with their own two hands.

#Monster March #Monster March 2023 #Monster March 2023 Day 14 #Monster March Day 14

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emptynarration · 4 years

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Verses and AUs (Long Edition)

All these AUs can work with either Host or Author. I’ll write down only the Host option, though in the Human AU Author’s human name is also stated.

Most of these verses have been made from my old version of Host. Said Host is small, sort of depressed, pretty sad and soft. So the opposite of the new revamped Host. There might be differences in how I write Host due to having those two versions of Host.

I’ll make a second page for verses keeping my old version of Host in mind, which will be linked with every AU that has it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Human AU [Second Version]

Host is named Markus Barker. Sometimes uses Host as nickname.

He is either: Born blind (sclera/pupil milky). Blind due to a disease (Neuromyelitis Optica).

He lives on his own with his pets. He either: Lives in his cabin in the forest. Lives on the outskirts of town with a garden.

He has an older brother (Arthur, world-wide known author).

He works on a rather popular podcast as main-narrator. He also either: Works at a radio station. Stays at home (financial help from his brother).

Can also go with human Author, the aforementioned brother of Host.

Both can also exist without brother.

Human Slave AU:

Host is named Markus Barker. Host is his nickname though

He is either: Born blind (sclera/pupil milky). Got his eyes gouged out by an owner.

He had been sold as slave when he had been a young child (around 4 y/o?).

Medieval AU: [Second Version]

Host is named Markus Barker.

He’s a servant for a noble household, with bad eyesight. He hates it there, but there’s nothing he can do if he doesn’t want to end up on the street. Even if that means being treated like dirt.

Royal AU: [Second Version]

Host is named Markus Barker.

He’s a rather young king (20-25) because his parents died in a tragic “accident”.

He’s rather strict, but very open-minded and protective of his kingdom.

He is as good as blind, only able to see colours and shapes, due to an accident as child.

in case of magic, his situation with Alden is pretty much the same, though they keep it hidden.

Neko AU: [Second Version]

He is named Host (by his mother)

He is 2'4"

He was born blind (sclera/pupil milky).

He is biologically female but identifies as male.

He was taken away from his mother from a very young age (too young to be taken away from his mother).

His first real owner mistreated him terribly.

He’s angry at the world and hates people, not afraid of them even with his very small size.

Broken Host AU:

This Host is based on the old fandom interpretation after MarkiplierTV:

Dark is at cause for taking Author’s eyes, in exchange for power.

Due to that Host is one of Dark’s “pawns” and is forced to tell him about visions and things in the future as soon as possible.

Due to basically abuse he was mentally broken by Dark.

He is extremely obedient to Dark.

He’s covered in scars and brandings (burn scars).

He doesn’t speak a lot.

He gets lost in his head, and especially in his narrations, a lot.

Angel AU:

Host is named Markus (he was once human).

His pupils are white (eyes usually covered up by a cloth)

He is a collector of souls from dying people.

He can see the souls of living beings with his eyes uncovered (but not allowed to do so technically).

His wings are white, the feather-tips golden.

Knows English more or less.

Mermaid AU: (other versions depending on size!)

Host goes by the name of Host.

He had almost been caught once by humans, which resulted in the loss of his eyesight, and thick scars over his eyes.

His scales are golden. His fins are slightly see-through, and tipped green. His ears are fins. He has fins on his underarms. He has scales on his shoulders and arms.

He has scales that glow in the dark, and markings on his face which also glow in the dark (not visible unless glowing)

He’s a siren, and thus can speak and understand English.

Underwater mermaids communicate via clicking sounds (kinda like morse code, but different).

Fairy AU: (Basically an OC shhh) (More extra info here)

Host is named Rhosyn, but may go by the name Host as well.

He is a (flower) fairy.

He can change his size, between 0.5 inches and 3 feet.

His wings are large and slightly see-through. Golden in colour, with intricate swirls covering them.

(The rest of his looks)

He lives in a small flower field he takes care of by himself.

He is blind, but has learned to see magic.

Every living thing (from humans, to fae, to plants) have magic to some amount, which he can see and tell what he is looking at.

Harpy AU

Host has no name he goes by, but will let anyone name him

He is 8 inches tall

He’s a brown thrasher harpy

He has slightly darker skin (than Mark), short, like brown fuzz on his head resembling hair; white feathers with dark spots on his chest and hips down his thighs, where his legs then turn into bird’s feet; dark brown, almost black eyes. His wings have light brown feathers.

He mainly eats fruits, berries, nuts and insects

He isn’t afraid to attack anything larger than him, going so far as to attack humans if he has to

Forest Deity AU (It’s basically an OC shh)

Host goes by the name Elvin, since the forest he lives in is called Elvin Forest (Elvin means friend of elves)

He’s 5'3 tall

He has long dark brown hair, reaching his mid-back. His eyes are the color of tree resin/amber, the colour looking different depending on the light. He has “antlers”, long branches growing from his head and upwards. They change with the season; growing leafs and flowers; but are always decorated with little trinkets. He’s always bare-footed.

He is “bound” to one tree, which would hurt and kill him if it were chopped down. But he is also the heart of the forest, feeling with it, and it feeling with him

He has magical powers, and can talk to plants, trees and animals

For the people he is something of a myth: some people pray to him, some people ask for help or advice, some don’t believe in him

Fused AU:

Host isn’t a regular ego but also is an ego

TBH I’m uncertain about the lore of this either I’d say all egos are fused or this is a punishment made by Dark or smth

Host is “fused” with his recording equipment

Headphones always on his head, microphone in a metal mask strapped over his mouth

A rig on the back of his chair connected to his arms and hands which controls his movement. He can’t stand up

(Inspired by this drawing, and how he looks like in the AU)

Little Demon AU:

Host is a demon, still called Host

He is 7 inches tall

He has dark purple horns and two tails, and no bandages, but keeps his eyes closed

Looking into his eyes will cause the looker to be pulled into their own mind and be faced with their deepest and darkest fear

Host will be able to see that and interact with the person there, but also leave them there alone to suffer

He can “teleport” short distances, mostly through shadows

Doll AU: / It’s basically an OC shhh

Host is called Benjamin

He is a porcelain doll, 20 inches tall

He is typically asleep, and only comes to life and awakens after 4-5 days of constant care and love towards him

He stays alive through the love and care and want to have him alive from his owner, but also needs to be near them

If left alone and too far away from his owner for too long, his energy will slowly vanish throughout a few days. Making him tired, sluggish, and slow, until he can’t manage to walk anymore, and then can’t keep his eyes open

He was made in 1667 and has been with 19 different people/families throughout his life

A/B/O AU: [Second Version]

If human, Host goes by Markus Barker, Host as a nickname.

He’s a little feminine looking, but due to his height, no one suspects he’s anything but an Alpha.

He’s an Omega. Takes suppressants and scent-blockers to hide this status though.

Child Host AU:

Normal Host technically, but Host is a child now.

He’s 3'3".

He looks the exact same pretty much.

He doesn’t have any memories of being an adult.

Alden is also affected by this, and is brought to a more child-like state.

Asylum AU

Host goes by the name The Host

He is locked in a cell because of hallucinations and unreliable behaviour

Eyes AU

Host still has his eyes

Author was actually more timid and nice and not lusting after power

Dark absolutely hates him because Host doesn’t let himself be manipulated

(Inspired by this picture)

Swap AU

Host is swapped with Dark

He is monochrome. He wears a black trenchcoat and black tights, as well as knee-high black combat boots. He has a bright strand of hair, no eyes, and bandages around his eyes.

Here’s some info about the swap AU and Host’s backstory

He is called Darkiplier in this AU (pronounced Dark-eplí-er? sorta french lol)

He talks in third person as a comfort mechanism

He doesn’t really have a goal like normal Dark (getting revenge on Actor) but he takes care of the other egos and keeps them safe and in check

He does his radio show still, but has no narrating powers

Forest Creature AU

Host had died in the forest wishing to be a part of it

He is still humanoid, but he is covered in moss, leafs, plants, etc, growing all over him. Flowers grew over his blind eyes.

He fell in love with Edward Iplier, but he died in his arms. He is alone.

Banished Author AU

Author was banished into the void by Dark due to Dark believing Author would grow to become very dangerous towards himself and others

He had been stuck in the void, all by himself, for years

Being stuck in the void, he doesn’t physically age, and has no bodily needs

The void seeped into him, mixed with him, changing him

While he still has his powers of writing, and they are still primarily that, the void is a part of him now in a way

Little Space: (nsfw-ish)

Normal verse Host

In headspace he’s either around 1 year or around 4-6 years old

He usually is alone in his room to be little on his own

He largely prefers to be diapered and wear soft clothes

#the other is speaking #blog rules

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saxspielercaderface · 7 years

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World-Building June: Day 3

Going with the prompt for today: People and Races!

As was said yesterday, C-Beta was build specifically to house carbon-based, oxygen-breathing species, of which three sapient ones were found in the entire galactic neighborhood; Humans, Tyrkovanii, and Suraskon.

Humans: Hey, that’s us! No real difference here, other than we’ve adapted to C-Beta’s climate and atmosphere, which are a bit colder and denser, respectively, than Earth’s. If a C-Beta human were to come back to earth, they would find the air too warm and too thin to their liking. Most humans live alongside Suraskon in coastal countries clustered around the equator of C-Beta, where the climate is the warmest and and most humid. Humans and Suraskon were brought to C-Beta simultaneously, so their cultures, cuisines, architectures, and such have blended together rather well.

Tyrkovanii: Tyrkovanii, also called ‘Storm-Riders,’ ‘Avarians,’ and, less politely, ‘Harpies’ or ‘Turkeys,’ are a race of bi-pedal, six-limbed, avian-reptilian beings, the last of the three races brought to C-Beta. Harboring intense anger for what they perceived (perhaps rightfully) as a mass kidnapping, they came into conflict with the Human and Suraskon inhabitants of C-Beta, who had already created a functioning and collaborative society before the Tyrkovanii arrived. At present, Tyrkovanii maintain a highly isolationist society separate from that of the Human and Suraskon, and are extremely wary of, and hostile to, foreigners. They inhabit the far northern and southern reaches of C-Beta, as they are far better adapted to the cold than either Humans or Suraskon.

Tyrkovanii have six limbs: a pair of bat-like wings where a Human’s arms would be, a pair of shorter, thinner, and more dexterous secondary arms situated further down the torso, and a pair of digitigrade legs meant to fold up tightly against the hollows of the torso during flight. Wingspans vary as much as wing shape, yet an average wingspan runs about 20 feet. They also sport finned and feathered tails that, usually, are just as long as the rest of their bodies, meant for stability and balance rather than dexterity.

95% of Tyrkovanii are protanopic (red-green colorblind), with the remaining 5% being unable to see color at all. Their sight is instead more heavily geared towards contrast and movement.

Tyrkovanii have no hair. Instead, their heads are adorned with expressive feather crests that can either grow in a fan shape or in a more mohawk-like arrangement. Regardless, the feather crest always ends in a trail of feathers down the neck and spine, eventually forming a feathered ‘cape’ across the wing shoulders and down the wing arms, providing extra warmth for the joints there despite not aiding in flight in any way. Some male Tyrkovanii grow feathers on their chins and jawlines as well - often times, this is the only way to tell males apart from females. Feathers are sometimes painted for weddings, funerals, flight ceremonies, and other special occasions. Skin tones are highly varied and sport different patterns, ranging from stripes to spots, that often remind Humans of the coloration patterns of birds on Earth.

Also, they’re big.

Suraskon: The smallest and longest-lived of the three races, the amphibious-looking Suraskon speak at a frequency above what Humans and Tyrkovanii can hear (though Suraskon can hear Humans/Tyrkovanii/each other just fine), additionally communicating with each other via color and pattern changes of chromatophores on their skin. This occurs all over bodies but the greatest communicative areas are the face, neck frills, and hands. Suraskon refer to each other based on the default color and pattern of their skin - to ‘say’ someone else's name, an individual would mimic that color and pattern momentarily. This happens when Suraskon are referring to Humans and Tyrkovanii as well - with Tyrkovanii, it’s simpler, given their distinct markings, but with Humans, other features like the shape of the hair around the face and any accessories (glasses, piercings, tattoos) are often mimicked.

Communication between Suraskon and other races is made simpler through step-down sound modulators, the blueprints for which were provided to them when they arrived on C-Beta (who provided them, I’m saving for another day...). This setup consists of an external vocabulator, which sits at the base of the throat and interacts with the Suraskon’s vocal cords and spits out whatever the Suraskon is saying at a hear-able frequency for Humans and Tyrkovanii. These also translate between nearly every language spoken on C-Beta, which is handy. Those who choose not/can’t afford to get a vocabulator usually learn sign language, which is taught all over the place in multi-species countries (about 80% of people in Savania know at least the basics of sign language).

Suraskon names come in three major flavors - either a verbalization of their default color and pattern (often shortened or corrupted to make it more name-like), a name/word that sounds nice to the Suraskon that they then adopt as a name for themselves, or a hand sign that looks visually pleasing to them in the case of a Suraskon that has no vocabulator. This results in names like Trace Anhydra, Screwdriver Tappings, and Alba Noncere. Suraskon names frequently change with interests, color and pattern changes (though it takes a significant event to change this, such as emotional upheaval or injury), and other things.

#world building june #Tyrkovanii #Suraskon #PW SW SB series #Phantomwing

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simplyoriginalcharacters · 7 years

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Aischylos

So I haven’t figured out the story setting completely yet, but it’s a fantasy world based on many mythos, mainly Greek ones. It’s a pseudo-modern world; think early 1900’s but without real-world events. Sorry it’s vague.

(Find the rest of this profile and the critique under the cut! -Kyo)

There’s 4 harpy clans (Aello, Ocypete, Calaeno, Podarge) which are run by the namesake leader as well as a council of warriors and shaman. Races aren’t important and are mainly for aethetic differences.

Aischylos’ flock in particular live on a lake connected to the ocean via a natural dam. Their camp is located on an island in the middle of the lake which is covered in huge, ancient trees. They live in nests but have tools and basic magic. In this world, harpies are a female-only species that asexually reproduce (like white tail lizards) and it’s VERY rare that a male is ever born. Due to this, males are seen as weak and omens and are usually abandoned at birth.

The design of the harpies are tall humanoids with bird legs who are completely covered in feathers except for the face and hands. The hands are clawed and the top part is covered in light scales. The skin and scales are the same colour usually. These harpies are able to change their arms into wings and only the more practiced ones can have both “out” at once. They have beaks for noses (think the Rito from Zelda?).

The basic premise of the story is: Among the harpy clans there is an ancient truth: Males are never born. But when Bethesda decides to keep her son, Aischeylos’ faces a life of danger and abuse from his fellow flock members. Nobody expects him to live up to his ancestor’s honour or even survive until adulthood.

For some backstory about the other mentioned characters; Bethesda is a leader in the flock and a rather stoic woman; Hero is the same age group and is also part of a famous bloodline, she’s spoilt and considers herself a good guy because of it; Polyxene is another of the same age group, she was born with 4 wings/arms and isolates herself because of it; Pallas is Aisch’s older sister and a rather famous warrior, she lives in another clan however; Velvet is Aisch’s childhood best friend and was born deaf; Hagne is the local “priestess” who seeks to correct the wrong of Aisch’s birth, by teaching him to be a good harpy.

His backstory is still largely a WIP, so sorry if it’s a bit vague.

Name: Aischylos (meaning Shame) Aliases: Aisch Gender: Male Sexual Orientation: Unknown/Bi? (harpies are weird in the way that they’re all basically aro-ace, but some have an interest in members of other species) Age: 21 years old Birthdate: 4th of September Occupation: Scout

Alignment: Neutral Group/Organizational Affiliations: Aello Clan

Family: Bethesda (mother), Pallas (older sister) Best Friends: Velvet Relationship Status: Single Significant Other: None Other Relationships: Hero (rival), Polyxene (enemy), Satyrion (friend), Hagne (mentor)

Height: 5'6" Weight: Underweight Build: Lithe/Light Skin Tone: Creamy-brown Hair: Dark mocha colour with darker tips Eyes: Amber Identifying Marks: Multiple scars including a missing claw, prominate dark stripes (markings). Appearance: Small, lithe male with shiny dark brown feathers that look rainbow in certain light (I can’t remember what this effect is called). He has a light cream underside and black-brown stripes on his back and wings. Has many scars including a large on across his face (forehead to down his nose and his left cheek), a missing claw on his right foot and a plucked chest which reveals many smaller scars obtained during his youth.

Personality: A curious but shy young harpy. He is nervous around others of his kind, but warms up quickly to strangers of another species. He is naturally cautious, but tends to be forgiving. Aggressiveness is not in his nature as he prefers to avoid a fight. He has a strong interest in humans and their technology. Due to his upbringing, he tends to be a loner, distancing himself from others for his own sake. He dislikes large groups and will usually hang out on his own or with Velvet. He’s nervous around essentric or loud people; instinctively afraid of them due to the bullying he’s suffered from Hero. Aisch is rather submissive as well, constantly apologizing for his mistakes even if he doesn’t make any. However, he’s not exactly self-loathing. Thanks to Hange’s teachings, he’s aware that others’ hatred of him stems from his gender, not who he is personally. Due to this, he tries to judge others based on their personality rather than what they look like.

Motivations: The reputation of his bloodline, his personal pride, the need to protect Velvet Current Goal: To be respected among his peers Life Goal: To uphold the family honour and escape the misandry of the clans. Ultimately to seat himself at the head of a clan council and prove himself worthy

Motto: “Life is about being the best you can be, even if it’s worse than the people around you. If you do your personal best, that’s all that matters.”

Best Quality: His curiosity and open-mindedness Worst Quality: His anxiety and paranoia Fears: -Bullies -The sea -Being alone -Storms -Lightning

Hobbies: Studying humans, collecting artifacts (usually human tools or artifacts from other mythos species), watching the lake

Talents: Flight- Due to a life of running away from bullies, he’s adept at flight; mainly turning sharp corners and flying through tight spaces. He’s able to pull up from a highspeed dive as well.

Skills: Stealth- His small size and mottled feather patterns allow him to hide easily in nature.

Secret: He often wishes he was born female and sometimes pretends to be one in secret or when playing with Velvet. He doesn’t suffer from dysmorphia however and is not trans

Influential Memory: (Spoiler territory for my book) At age 12, he and Velvet were flying around the dam exploring the coastline. Deciding to be a bit daring, they fly out to sea a little and fish around. Soon, a storm blows in and in the middle of it, they’re tossed around and barely escape being drowned. However, as they reach the dam wall, Velvet is struck by lightning and killed, scarring Aischylos for life.

Role Model: Bethesda, Pallas Crush: - Source of Embarrassment: His gender and small build Source of Pride: His intelligence and flying ability

Hello! It sounds like you have a really interesting setting concept here, and I'm very interested in how this all fits together. At first, though, I was honestly a little concerned - there are a lot of worldbuilding details here, and I thought you might be submitting your setting for critique rather than your character! I was relieved to see that this is not the case, but in future, you may want to pull back on telling me too much about the setting. Remember, we don't need to know everything about it. Just the basics are fine!

So let's get into the basics of Aischylos, shall we?

First off, this is a character name that could actually use a pronunciation guide. I know how it sounds in my head, but I'm not sure if that's how it sounds in your head. I find myself stumbling over it whenever I read it in a sentence, and it's hard to spell it without looking at it. That may be something you want to take into consideration for future readers. I like that you've included a basic statement of the relationships he has with the other mentioned characters in parentheses with their names; that helps me keep them straight in my head. His basics and appearance make sense since I know that he's a harpy from your setting description. I believe the effect you're referring to on his feathers is "iridescence", but I could be wrong.

I like the personality you've described for Aisch. It makes sense, given the culture he was raised in. However, you haven't really included a backstory for him, so I can't tell you if it would fit in with where he's coming from. Normally, I wouldn't even provide a critique for a character without a backstory, but I'm making an exception in this case because I think that you do have one - it just isn't explicitly written out in paragraph form. You need to work on that, if you choose to revise Aisch.

Since you haven't included any questions for me to address, I'm not sure what you're looking for in this critique. The major problem I'm seeing here is that without a backstory, it's very hard to make out where Aisch is in his story and where he's going from here. On the one hand, one of his motivations is to protect Velvet; on the other hand, he has a memory of her death. Is she alive or not? I don't know. You could also use some proofreading - there are a few minor typos and places where you could tighten up your sentence structure, although they're not too jarring.

You clearly have some very solid ideas here and I think you know what you want out of this character and where you're going with this story. You just need to bring it across more clearly in this profile, so that I know, too. If you choose to revise Aisch, I would be happy to take another look at him. Until then, I hope this helps, and good luck!

-Kyo

#SOC Critique #OC Critique #submission

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leechangjoons · 7 years

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Pungdo- A Sanctuary For the Homeless

Population: 200-400

Mayor: Soyi, also referred exclusively as Mayor Park. Previous Mayor: Sungwoong, widely referred to as ‘Mr Bulldozer’ or ‘Mayor Park’ instead of his actual name

Geography: Facing the sea, harsh cliff faces with staircases and ramps carved into the rocks to allow for easy access. 3 major storeys of buildings- the main plaza with a small mart, hospital, petrol kiosk and post office are on the first level, as well as a bus stop leading to the outside world. The post office houses a bulletin board that is filled with odd jobs for people to pick up and go for, and there is also a community center for exercise, physiotherapy, psychological therapy as well as workshops to prepare the residents for the working world. They also rent out suits for residents.

In recent times, a few more amenities have opened up, notably a cafe run by Jiwoo and Hojun to allow residents to unwind with cheap drinks after a hard day at work or just to relax and bond. The splinter group of Monarch Acquisitions has also opened a branch to stay at after making a deal with Sungwoong, and occasionally take out contract jobs from within. The underground is not spared, however, and the resident vigilante group of the Beastslayers are known to be active. The latest addition is a branch of the notorious Chess Bionics, a clean energy firm that provides state-of-the-art prosthetics as well.

The second storey are mainly residences and the third and final storey is Sungwoong’s house as well as the outpost that Bumsoo owns with his detectives, which sprawls out a significant distance. Bumsoo is considered the de facto law enforcer of the town, though it is never unusual to see residents concealing and producing homemade weapons due to being under consistent threat while previously homeless. There is a consistent open-carry law in Pungdo, which is lax, and there is rarely if ever any crime or violence in the town because everyone understands hitting rock bottom.

On the far end of the island, there is Mooyeol’s Breezebreak Resort- a large inn allowing special and esteemed guests of Sungwoong’s to stop and rest their feet at. With the many meetings Soyi hosts to improve and expand Pungdo’s resources, Mooyeol almost never goes out of business. With Soyi’s takeover, though, the tourism policy has relaxed, and a small rotational handful of volunteers are also housed there.

The residences given to the new members are simplistic, zinc-roofed houses, and each house usually holds 3-4 people. Residents that are invalid due to dementia or other factors are paired off with more able people that have cared for them before coming to Pungdo. The main form of transportation from place to place is on foot, bicycles (if able) or on repurposed golf carts that run on solar energy, which have designated spots to be parked at.

History: Sungwoong’s goal has always been to eradicate homelessness. By creating a town that is basically a transition to allow homeless people to be equipped with skills to go to the working world and if not, still have a support system that allows them to live somewhat comfortably, Pungdo (’the island of wind’) is now a sanctuary for the homeless and destitute. Oftentimes, callous people can be seen driving and dumping their aged parents or invalid children at the bus stop of Pungdo, which are quickly taken in by the other vagrants.

The old people can often be seen nursing the children abandoned by others, and usually children are handed off to orphanages if they are not claimed otherwise- Pungdo is after all not habitable for children too young, and Sungwoong would rather they grew up away from such influences and pursue greener pastures instead if given a choice.

Despite this, however, people still stream into Pungdo for less savoury affairs- and are swiftly dealt with by the retainers that roam freely in Pungdo.

Laws: Each resident is usually given a nickname upon entry, or addressed strictly by honorifics if older due to Pungdo not being recognised yet as a state of residence. They are usually issued a bus card allowing them to access the outside world, as well as $10 of pocket money upon entry. Even after Pungdo was recognised as a sovereign state, residents still avoid using their actual names unless they are with family.

If the resident desires more money, they are able to either obtain an odd job from the bulletin at the post office or work for the relevant organisations such as the post office or the mart if there are spaces (they rotate very often to immerse everyone for exposure). Food is often provided by the mart in the form of packed fruits, and clothing are usually recycled ones donated from the churches and shelters around Pungdo: since the shelters’ resources have now been funnelled into the town itself, the citizens often come to the plaza to host soup kitchens for them.

Due to the consistent open-carry law in Pungdo, residents are strongly advised to keep a weapon within close proximity of them at all times. It is never surprising to see a resident walking around with a hammer or a crowbar- oftentimes, they have a need to hold these as a warning to the outside world.

Energy and Natural Resources: Pungdo is an island surrounded by water, so fishing and marine life has become one of its major exports. The lush forests that dot the landscape also house strange flora with unique medicinal properties, and it has thus become a hotbed for researchers to explore and uncover the more complex nature of the place.

What is most unique about Pungdo is its naturally occurring ore deposits that was hidden within the forest itself, glowing red stones known as “dynamium” that dissolves after being treated into easily contained and clean raw energy. While entirely harmless to a normal person, it has the unusually radioactive property of rapidly increasing the size of shifters and Chosen if exposed to, repressing their human nature and turning them into rampaging beasts. Dynamium is thus harvested by enterprising Normals who are more than happy to venture through the forests with the help of their shifter companions to harvest their own energy sources.

Each family is given three cells of dynamium that combined can last them a year in terms of electricity and heating. When exhausted, they can either visit the energy retrieval stand in Chess Bionics for a refill, drop off their used cells at the Town Hall with their address or inform the enforcers to make an exchange with them by personally visiting them if they are unable to do either.

Pungdo bizarrely touts its main export as tapiocas, despite the existence of dynamium. With Taeoh’s devotion in studying the strange substance (being immune to it himself), it meant that Sungwoong swiftly silenced any leaks of its existence to avoid endangering the lives of his citizens.

Income: Nobody quite knows how Pungdo gains so much wealth. Pungdo doesn’t take taxes from their people, either, so rumours have floated around that their mayor is sustaining their tiny town with his own money. More rumours point to illicit activities like smuggling of arms, but none of these have been confirmed or denied by Sungwoong himself. With the many proposals put forth and worked on by Sungwoong and later Soyi, the city sees a surprisingly robust culture and income.

Pungdo has a very strict no-tourism policy. Journalists especially are banned from Pungdo entirely- Sungwoong maintains very strongly that his residents are not ornaments, nor testaments of the eradication of poverty, and would want to maintain their pride by allowing them this sense of normalcy. With Soyi’s takeover, though, the tourism policy has relaxed however to allow volunteers of various charitable organisations to enter and put up at Breezebreak at the time being- she hopes that by having them give feedback that they would be able to secure more funding and support from the public to raise awareness.

Bizarre Occurrences: Pungdo has been the site of strange temporal and dimensional disturbances known as “Gates”, where people from other dimensions seem to keep emerging from the forest surrounding it. Suspicions abound that it is likely due to the dynamium concentration within the area, which once again brings up the question of why Sungwoong had not mentioned it before...

Notable Members: Sungwoong (ex-mayor, ‘Bulldozer’) Soyi (current mayor, ‘Iron Ox’) Bumsoo (police chief, ‘Steel Ball’) Hyejin (advisor, ‘Genie’) Retainers: Yeonseok (town doctor, ‘Flaming Cat’) Yumi (town advisor, ‘Frost Ghoul’) Jungwoo (surgeon, ‘Scum Ninja’) Sungkyun (psychiatrist, ‘Smiling Tiger’) Jieun “Chunhyang” (spy, ‘Pirouette’) Ara (strategist, ‘Victor’) Sunghoon (spy, ‘Junk Lizard’) Jinhyuk (security specialist, ‘Sniper’) Taeoh (engineer, ‘Alien’) Eunkyung (lawyer, ‘Puppy’)

Zhiheng (marine museum curator, ‘Jaws’)

Mooyeol (hotel owner, ‘Type Null’)

Regular members: Dongwon (detective, ‘Sweater’) Hyukkwon (detective, ‘Harpy’) Ryeowon (detective, ‘Wyvern’) Sukwon (detective, ‘Daniel’)

Jiwoo (cafe owner, ‘Swordfish’) Sooyoung (resident, ‘Eagle’) Sejong (long-term volunteer, ‘Butterfly’) Inwoo (town bum, ‘Bull’) Junhyo (resident, ‘Present Bird’) Kijoon (resident, ‘Prism’) Jisung (resident, ‘Dragon’) Joowan (resident, ‘Lava Ghoul’) Jihye (resident, ‘Imp’)

Jungjin (???, referred to exclusively as ‘Proxy’, nobody knows his real name)

#shifter worldbuild #pungdo town

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laoch-rua-blog · 7 years

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The Myth of the Dog-head; what makes a Human?

Manicore in the Rochester Bestiary, c. 1230, Royal MS 12 F XIII, f. 24v

Hybridisations comprising elements of human and partially of animal are frequently found in literature, as seen in the representations of monsters such as a harpy (bird of prey with woman’s head), centaurs, manicore (body of a lion with a scorpion stinger and head of a man) and minotaur (head of a bull and the body as man).

The centaur has the body of a horse and from the torso upwards is in human form. With a human head, they retain a capacity for cognition. They have the ability to reason. For example, Chiron is the teacher of the great warriors Heracles and Achilles. Although their bestial nature does come to the forefront at times, for instance in the episode of the slaughter by the Centaurs at the Lapith wedding, they are usually depicted as possessing more human qualities than that of a beast.[1] When this is compared to the opposite type of hybridisation, those whose upper body is the beast, the depictions typically show a lack or absence of rational thought. The minotaur of King Minos has a human body and a bull’s head. He is shown to be the opposite of a human. He does not demonstrate a capacity for reasoning and unlike the centaurs, he is isolated, not living in a community. The minotaur has a violent nature and his lack of humanity is further confirmed by his predilection for human flesh.

These hybridisations are also found in the catalogues of monstrous races found commonly in many medieval manuscripts. One such type is the race of the dog-headed people known as the Cynocephali or the dog-milkers, Cynomolgi. Who were this race of dog-heads? The knowledge of such races had been inherited from the Classical tradition. The 5th century BC Greek historian, Herodotus wrote that the Cynocephali inhabited the area west of Libya, along with a menagerie of other monstrous creatures, such as headless men with eyes in their chests.[2] Another Greek historian, Ctesias, writing in the following century, offered one of the most complete descriptions of the early accounts He described the Cynocephali as clothed in animal skin, without language, only conversing through barking or formulating signs with their hands. They ate raw flesh and dwelt in caves of the Indos valley region.[3] Later again, Pliny the Elder writing his Natural History in the 1st century Roman empire, touched on the Cynocephali, noting that they were clothed in animal skin and communicated with each other by barking.[4] These Classical representations conveyed an image of otherness, the image of these beings was constructed in order to be in opposition the image of their own society. What the Greeks and Romans considered the markers of civilisation were reversed and placed upon this mythical race. The Cynocephali existed on the periphery of the known world and their customs were unnatural and contrary to the Greek and Roman traditions. They were shown to be primitive; they ate human flesh and could not converse through human speech. They were beings who shared more characteristics with that of beasts than of humans. This image was carried into the Christian tradition, the Patristic author Augustine drawing much from Pliny’s writings. Although referring to the dog-heads in the City of God, Augustine remains unconvinced of the possible existence of the race, affirming that ‘it is not, of course, necessary to believe in all the kinds of men which are said to exist.’ This deliberation on the Cynocephali arose from the investigation whether or not monstrous races were descended from Adam, ‘the first father of mankind’, a vital question to determine if they were indeed capable of being converted and ultimately have the chance at salvation. Augustine argues that is not the shape, colour or perceived abnormality of the individual which determines their humanity, but instead their capacity for reason, a capacity which could be exhibited through their faculty of speech.[5] It was therefore not the external appearance which was critical but the presence of internal thought. Later in the tradition, Isidore, the bishop of Seville, in his Etymologies, examined portents as those which are ‘contrary to known nature’. He spoke of the Cynocephali as a race of people from India who bark and he recorded the view, stemming from the Augustinian discourse, that the dog-heads did not have the capability to reason based upon this inability to speak. The facility of speech was a crucial factor as the means of expression, but also in process revealing a capacity for thought. This demonstration was considered as evidence of their humanity and as a consequence, an opportunity for proselyting. Likewise, in the text The Wonders of the East, which is found in Old English in the medieval Beowulf manuscript, touches on the race of the Cynocephali. The half-dogs are fantastically described as fire-breathing, having ‘horses’ manes’ and boar tusks. But here their method of communication is not articulated and they were portrayed as living in cities of wealth in Egypt. In the same manuscript, a parallel description of their physical attributes is found in the Book of Monsters and they are said to be more beast than human, in that their speech is interposed with barks and they exist on a diet of flesh.[6]

The subject of the conversion of the Cynocephali arises also in the Contendings of the Apostles, an Ethiopic apocryphal text dealing with the Acts of the Apostles. It was prophesied to Andrew that he and Bartholomew will meet a dog-faced individual on their journey through the eastern region of Parthia and this monster will then aid them with their missionary undertaking of spreading the gospels. The description of the dog-faced creature is comparable to those mentioned above,

‘… his face was like unto the face of a great dog, and his eyes were like unto lamps of fire which burnt brightly, and his teeth were like unto the tusks of a wild boar, or the teeth of a lion… and his whole appearance was awful and terrifying.’

He is portrayed as cannibalistic and he cannot converse in the human tongue. The dog-face introduces himself to the two Apostles as Hasûm, meaning the ‘Abominable’. However, to reflect his new identity, Andrew gives him the new name ‘Christian.’ At the prospect of a possible interaction with the Apostles, the dog-face expressed concern regarding his bestial nature. The angel who visited him told him that through his newly found Christian faith, God would inhibit his bestial urges and alter him to be more human in his nature. His internal disposition was changed, but externally his features remained the same.

Correspondingly, in medieval manuscript illumination, the Cynocephali were depicted in relation to missionary work, as seen in the image above. They were used to represent of one of the races to which the Apostles went on their first missionary endeavour. During Pentecost, after the Holy Spirit gifted the Apostles the ability to speak in every language, they went out to preach the Gospel to the nations. Working off this idea, the 9th century manuscript illuminators depicted the Cynocephali as one such nation among others. The dog-heads were heathen to be converted and at times they could allegorically represent either the Jewish or Islamic peoples. One factor remains consistent in these canid representations, they are repeatedly signifying ‘the other.’ The human/animal relation can be used in the narrative to articulate those communities living on the periphery of the known world. Their animal connection is made to create a representation of ab-normalness, otherness. These monstrous people had different customs and practices than those at the centre, and crucially different from those creating the literature. The contrast which was formed in the opposition in their natures served to define the identity of the author’s society.

Irish Passion of St Christopher

Saints are usually the ones portrayed as encountering monsters, not being represented in the guise of a monster. This is not the case for the early hagiographical accounts of St Christopher. The sources present the saint as a member of the race of dog-headed people and his depiction as such is in part to convey fundamental doctrinal concepts regarding conversion and salvation. The earliest accounts survive in both Greek and Latin and they share a basic common narrative. A flesh-eating cynocephalus from the land of the Chananeans, whose sole manner of communication is akin to that of a dog, is converted to Christianity. He prays to God to be granted the power of speech in order to interpose and convert those who persecute Christians. An angel is sent from God who upon striking Christopher and blowing into his mouth, endows him with the gift of language. In these early renditions, Christopher is also depicted as carrying the child Jesus across a river, an image which endures more prominently in the Western iconography than that of Christopher the dog-head.[7] Christopher undergoes a number of trials before being martyred by the Roman emperor Decius for refusing to sacrifice to the pagan gods. The Irish version of the saint’s life survives in two 15th century manuscripts the Leabhar Breac and Liber Flavus Fergusiorum and it opens as follows:

‘There was a persecution of Christians in time of the emperor Decius, and the holy man Christopher was taken and tortured like the others. Christopher was exceedingly wise, and had observed that the Lord assisted those of the heathen who believed just as much as he assisted Christians. Now this Christopher was one of the Dog-heads, a race that had the heads of dogs and ate human flesh. He meditated much on God, but at that time he could speak only the language of the Dog-heads. When he saw how much the Christians suffered he was indignant and left the city. He began to adore God and prayed. ‘Almighty God,’ he said, ‘give me the gift of speech, open my mouth, and make plain thy might that those who persecute thy people may be converted. An angel of God came to him and said: "God has heard your prayer." The angel raised Christopher from the ground, and struck and blew upon his mouth, and the grace of eloquence was given him as he had desired.’

The image of Christopher as a pagan is illustrated in a similar manner to the other accounts of the Cynocephali. He has long hair, tusk-like teeth and glittering eyes and a cannibalistic nature which disappears after his conversion. The saint is put through a number of tests to demonstrate his faith. Decius has his flesh wrenched with metal hooks, a procedure which Christopher is unfazed by. He considered this as a fleeting corporeal pain when compared to the eternal salvation that awaits him in the afterlife. He is tested for a second time, with the application of burning lamps to his abdomen and in repeating his earlier sentiment regarding the kingdom of heaven, he endeavours to convert the emperor. Women are sent to seduce him, soldiers to intimidate him, but they are all converted to Christianity by Christopher. Decius fruitlessly attempts to burn the saint on a pyre but he remains untouched by the flame and this miracle serves to produce more proselytised.

After this, Christopher rises and addresses the crowd with an allegorical prophecy, ‘I have seen the Master of the City, a tall man and his face beautiful like a ray of sun-light.’ This Master battles a dark figure and triumphs. There is a contrast between the ‘hideous’ countenance of the saint and that of the Master of the City.[8] Nevertheless, this vision reinforces the argument that Christopher had been putting forward throughout. The Master of his vision is God and the City is the kingdom of heaven.[9] The narrative presents these parallel binaries of the mortal and corporal, and the immortal and spiritual. Christopher is unconcerned about what happens to him during his mortal life, for he believes that after death his faith will be rewarded with eternal life in the kingdom of God. The Passion of Christopher extolls this message, and it is reflected metaphorically in Christopher himself. The mortal or the corporal is immaterial; it is the welfare of immortal soul which is foremost and which has the potential to lead to salvation. In the penultimate effort of the emperor to do away with Christopher, he is chained and thrown into a dry well and again he avoids death. He is eventually decapitated, the monstrous element of his physique being finally removed. However, this happens only after he expressed his readiness to join God. In death, in order that he continue aiding the faithful and interceding on their behalf, his remains become recognised as a holy relic.

There is an issue with the image of the dog-headed saint, in the belief that man was created in God’s image.[10] If these deformed races diverge from this human image, can they considered as part of the history of salvation? Christopher’s hagiography represents an inversion of the image of the dog-headed man as the unthinking flesh-eating outsider. As in the discussions by Isidore and Pliny before him, this dog-head would commune through barking instead of the language of men. But like the dog-faced Christian in the Acts of Andrew and Bartholomew, Christopher is spiritually converted and his character is likewise converted to reflect the transformative power of Christianity. Augustine argued that if monstrous person can demonstrate reason, then they must be a descendant of Adam and be of the race of men.

There is a focus on the internal transformation. Physically, Christopher remains as a cynocephalus with long hair and boar tusks, but internally he is altered, an alternation which is primarily expressed through his eloquence.[11] It is articulated in a number other ways also. His internal disposition is peaceful; he is meek and subdued when he is beaten by the emperor’s henchman, Baceus. His anthropophagus nature is reformed and he is able to perform a number of miracles, for example the budding and blossoming of his staff and multiplying food for Decius’ soldiers.[12] His transformation is witnessed in the onomastics. His name has been changed upon religious conversion; Reprobus meaning the ‘condemned’ is transfigured to Christopher, the ‘Christ-bearer’. The rhetoric Christopher chooses to espouse with this new ability was of a Christian nature, reaffirming the internal change. The message that he brings is one that demonstrated the transient nature of this life and the vitality of the eternal life in the Kingdom of God. This message is mirrored in the representation of saint himself; his immortal soul is religiously transformed and therefore saved but his physical body which is transient remains unchanged. Christopher capacity for language, despite his unaltered canine appearance, distinguishes him from a beast and previous depictions of the Cynocephali.[13] In the Passion, emphasis is placed upon his articulacy, which was achieved only through the grace of God. Before his conversion the image of the cynocephalus prevailed; Christopher was differentiated from humanity and the faithful by his canine features, his consumption of human flesh and barking tongue. But after his change in religious identity, he is given the ability of human speech and becomes an agent of conversion. This ability allows him to proselyte and confirms his capacity for cognition and salvation.

This representation of Christopher the dog-head was utilised on a practical basis, as witnessed in the 9th century correspondence between a Benedictine monk from the monastery of Corbie, Ratramnus and a priest, Rimbert who was undertaking missionary activity in Scandinavia. The monk deduced from the varied literary evidence that the Cynocephali could be converted if encountered by the proselytiser. Along with the hagiography of Christopher, he based his view using the additional sources of first hand accounts which described animal-mask-wearing warriors from pagan communities.[14] Also the fact that the Cynocephali lived in communities, wore clothing and practiced agriculture meant that they maintained laws, were modest and demonstrated expertise, all indicating that they were indeed human.[15] Being considered as human, they could take their place in the history of salvation. This treatment is opposed to the perception promoted in the earlier classical texts and image of this monstrous hybrid is salvaged and rehabilitated.

[1] The myths could also have been used as allegory, use of Centauromachy, along with Amazonomachy and Ilioupersis on Parthenon south metopes as commentary on Persian plunder of Athens and its acropolis, see for discussion on this hypothesis see Barringer, Art, Myth and Ritual in Classical Greece, pp. 82- 85.

[2] Herodotus, Histories 4. 191. 3. Also dating earlier, Hesiod writing in the 8-7th centuries BC, referred to the half-dog people, as the Hemikunes, representing them as ‘others’, along with the Macrocephali and the Pygmies, see Catalogues of Women Fragments 40A & 44. Tir otherness. they existed on the periphery of the known world and were oposite in er, existing on the periphery, he no l.

[3] Ctesias, Indica Fragment (summary from Photinus, Myriobiblon 72). The nographic y, only is changedg-headset,'o e animal. The male would typically be isolated from the community, only is changed

[4] Pliny the Elder, Natural History 7. 23, Pliny influenced by lost work of Megasthenes, 4th-3rd centuries BC. See also Bruce, ‘Conversion of the Cynocephali,’ p. 48.

[5] Augustine maintained that God as the Creator does not make errors in his creation, but rather it is a human’s failure to ‘view the whole’, by seeing only the ‘deformity of a part,’ Augustine, City of God, 16. 8.

[6] Liber Monstrorum, 1. 16 & 2.13 in Orchard, Pride and Prodigies, p. 269 & p. 297. Also, in Letters of Alexander to Aristotle which is included in the same manuscript, the Cynocephali are mentioned in during Alexander’s travels through India, see §29, Pride and Prodigies, p. 245. As Orchard discusses, the selection of texts in the manuscript pertains to all things monstrous, whilst the texts of Judith and Christopher concern the monster within, Beowulf, Alexander and Liber Monstrorum deal with the monsters without, pp. 169- 170.

[7] This is the significance of the name Christopher, ‘Christ-bearer’. In the Greek and Latin texts, a type of physical transformation is noted, Christopher is portrayed as a black, terrible pagan, whose skin changes to a milk white when he is baptised by St Babylus in Antioch. See Gordon White, Myths of the Dog-Man, p. 35.

[8] Decius describes Christopher as ‘hideous.’ Fraser (tr.), The Passion of St Christopher, p. 319.

[9] In terms of salvation but also the idea also propagated by Augustine throughout The City of God of the two cities, of man and of God.

[10] Genesis 1. 27.

[11] In the Old English Passion of Christopher which is included in the Beowulf manuscript, a physical transformation may be noted. Christopher’s visage is described as transforming into a blossom upon his death. However, this treatment could be considered as metaphorical.

[12] Biblical parallels in Moses’ staff (Exodus 4.3) and Jesus’ miracles of feeding the multitude (found in all gospels, e.g. John 6. 1-14).

[13] The image of language is crucial in the Christian tradition as a religion of the word and the association is frequently illustrated in the Bible, for example the dispersal of language Tower of Babel and emphasis on logos marking the beginning of Genesis, in the Old Testament and the Apostles receiving Holy Spirit and speaking in tongues in the New Testament.

[14] In this ethnographic misunderstanding, the two traditions meet, the wolf warriors are seen as dog-heads.

[15] Bruce, ‘Hagiography as monstrous ethnography: A note on Ratramnus of Corbie’s letter concerning the conversion of the Cynocephali,’ p. 52 & Friedman, The Monstrous Races, pp. 188-190.

#dogheads #myth #mythology #cynocephali #bible #saint #stchristopher #beowulfmanuscript #medieval #classics #monsters #deformed #abnormal

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secretsandhushedwhispers · 7 years

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“Help.”

Something actually Dragon Age related, although including one of my OCs.

Emprise du Lion was nowhere to be without a long fuzzy coat and boots to match. A harsh winter pounded the area, partially submerging houses in snow and making life utterly horrible for soldiers stationed there; including the Red Templars.

Eon was used to the cold. He often wondered if it had something to do with being a Qunari. He could sleep in the blizzards and never get freeze. Though summer had just come around so it was warmer than usual. Cassandra didn’t mind the cold either, though her armor and clothing were padded enough to keep her warm enough. Solas was cold but didn’t complain. They all noted how underdressed he was for the area. No one was sure how Cole felt about the cold. Not even Cole knew how he felt about the cold.

The group had been fighting Red Templars all around the mines and freeing the prisoners stuck in their cages. They were all so coordinated that each battle took no more than some well-implemented combos and teamwork. They had freed all of the civilians.

Or so they thought.

It was around midday when the four were exploring the mines. They were searching for every bit of information they could about the Red Templars and their plans.

“We’ve searched this place up and down. We should head out to the next station,” Cassandra suggested. She was getting tired of standing around. Inwardly she wished she had gone with Bull to scout over the bridge. It would certainly be more exciting than this.

“I agree,” Solas added. “There are more areas around. We also have not thoroughly looked through Suledin Keep.”

“Fine, fine. Let’s move along.” Eon closed a journal he was reading and stuffed it in a bag to take back to camp.

They continued along the paths until a loud screech was heard above them. Through the cliffs that rose around them, they could all see a silhouette of a flying creature. They would have guessed it was a dragon if they didn’t know any better.

It continued to fly over them, screeching and cawing. The group continued on, ignoring it. It continued to pester them.

“Iron against stone, armor clattering, digging deeper.” Cole could hear the feelings of the creature above. It saw all of the work that the Templars were doing. The rest of them recognized the description.

“Bars shut tight and the door locked. Blood drips down her feathers as she’s pinned to the board. She can’t get up and she can’t fly. ‘Then I must fly away, run. Help. Someone help’.” Cole stopped in order to focus on the thoughts. The rest stopped a few feet in front and looked back at the boy in wonder. Cole cupped his cold cheeks and placed a hand on his daggers. “They’re going to turn her into an abomination.”

“Who, Cole?” Eon questioned.

Cole pointed up at the creature circling above them. “His mother. He says he wants to lead us to her.”

They all look up. The creature swoops down and lands in front of them as an answer to Cole’s call. It turns to reveal itself.

He is nothing more than a child, a little boy about the age of five. He appeared to be half-bird. His arms were wings and his feet had talons. Tiny feathers created a mane around his neck. Besides those traits, he was totally human. He was shivering profusely from the cold. Nothing but a shirt and torn pants clothed the boy.

Cole weaved through the others and picked the boy up in hopes of giving him some warmth. It made the little one happier, but he was still afraid and his mother was still in peril.

“Help,” he simply said. “Help.”

“Where is your mother now? We’ll get her out,” Solas spoke quietly.

The boy pointed his wing towards a path on the other side of the mining pit they were in. It was a small tunnel, just barely big enough for them. The four marched their way through.

At the end of the tunnel was another mining pit. This one was smaller, probably made more recent than the others. Only a few Templars were there. Three miners were hacking away at the red lyrium. It didn’t even seem like they had harvested any yet. Eon snuck closer to see deeper, veiling himself with a potion. At the very bottom of the pit were two barred carts. One of them had the door open and the other closed. Squawking was coming from the closed one, but it sounded forced and weak.

Eon backed up to form a plan with the rest of the group. “Cole, sit this one out and take care of the kid. Cassandra and I will head down the ladders to flank the Templar Knight. As we approach, Solas, you can use Winter’s Grasp to freeze him so we can take him down. The rest should be easy.”

The other two agreed. and they headed on their way. This plan was hardly different from the rest. Eon and Cassandra made it down without making a sound. With Eon’s signal, Solas froze the Knight. Cassandra shattered the ice and Eon took a couple quick stabs to kill them. A few parries and two more dead Templars later and the area was clear.

The miners thanked the Inquisitor and ran off to their village. Cole came down once he saw the coast was clear. When he stepped down from the ladder, the boy jumped from his arms and ran to the cage.

“Mama! Mama, mama!” His wings were pressed up on the bars as if they were hands.

The four approached the cage to see a creature similar to the boy. She looked to be a teenager with short brown hair. She was on her stomach, her grey wings with two white dots pinned down to a wooden board. Five knives stuck out of the wings– two on the left, three on the right– blood spilling from the wounds and staining the surrounding feathers dark red. She had human arms. Her wrists were bound and tied to a loop at the top of the board. A tail just shorter than her legs still seemed to be in good condition. Half-lidded, silver eyes stared up at Solas.

Eon wasted no time in picking the lock to the cage. The creature huffed when she heard the door squeak open. He climbed up into it carefully to jiggle each knife from the board.

Everyone was worried about the state they were in. They seemed so weak and helpless. It was basic knowledge that a frayed wing was a useless wing. She might not be able to fly.

Eon yanked out the last knife and jumped out the cage, but the creature didn’t move. Even the little boy was too afraid to go near. She was clearly alive, her back steadily moving up and down.

“I don’t think she’ll make it,” Cassandra stated, disheartened by the sight.

Solas shook his head and held his staff proudly in front of him. He pointed to the creature with it. “On the contrary. Do you know who or what she is?”

“I assume you do?”

“She’s a harpy. An ancient creature from the age of Arlathan. Well– they date back to Arlathan. It doesn’t mean this particular one is that old. My readings told me that they were all but extinct.”

“Ancient doesn’t mean she’s going to survive,” Eon input.

Perhaps in pure spite of what he said, the creature sat up and hopped out of the cage. Her wings looked brand new besides the blood stains. The holes from the knives were nowhere to be seen. She acted as it nothing happened.

The little boy went to his mother and held up his wings, wanting to be held by his mother. She smiled and took him into her arms. They enjoyed the embrace, happy to have each other once again. The woman then turned to Eon and bowed her head.

“Ma serannas, da’len.” She then turned to Solas and bowed to him. “Ma serannas, Fen’hahren.” With a bright smile on her face, the creature took to the skies and flew off with her child in her arms. The rest of the group watched in awe at the sight.

When she was finally out of sight, Eon turned to Solas. “What was it that she said? I know it was Elven.”

Solas hesitated. He didn’t know exactly what to say. “She said thank you to both of us. She also called you da’len which means ‘child’.”

“What about that other word? Fen’hahren?”

“I-- am not sure. It’s not a term I’m familiar with.” That wasn’t true at all. He knew exactly what it meant. Elder Wolf. But he kept his lips shut as he wondered if they’d ever cross paths again.

#godsxelves #answered #vince writes

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