Destined With You Theory Post

A screenshot of blog post Hong Jo was reading in the earlier episodes.

I'll try to summarize as best as I can...

Basically the blog post Hong Jo was reading describes a dark and mysterious tale from the Joseon era:

It begins by hinting at a curse in the palace, raising questions about whether curses are real and if it started with someone called Aeng Cho. Aeng Cho seems to be the central figure in these events.

A quote from Hyojong Shillok on February 20th, Year 3 of King Hyojong's reign mentions that Aeng Cho is a shaman and she had secretive connections with Lady Yoon. The details surrounding her actions are described as eerie and secretive.

Lady Yoon, a consort, comissioned servants to collect various remains from the deceased, including skulls, hands, feet, teeth, hair, flesh and even items related to tombs. She gathered these items secretly and buried them beneath the ground where the king walked during the night.

The purpose of gathering these items was to curse the one who ascended to the throne, plotting to end the king's life by collecting the necessary materials for the curse.

Aeng Cho, who wrote the book on divination and magic, was known for her proficiency in various forms of sorcery. Lady Yoon learned curse spells from Aeng Cho, aiming to end the king's life.

According to my previous theory if Lady Yoon is Yoon Na Yeon's ancestor then her family is definitely heavily involved in shamanism/black magic even today and would know how to cast a curse from the knowledge being passed down from Lady Yoon, their ancestor, who learned it directly from Aeng Cho. So Aeng Cho wasn't the only one who knows about the book of curses. Lady Yoon knows it too.

'The Oldest Game' - the myth and folklore of the battle between Morpheus and Lucifer in 'The Sandman' on Netflix (a folklorist chimes in)

Lucifer and Morpheus in a 'wizard's duel', 'The Sandman' episode 4 'A Hope in Hell'

The memorable, grandiose scene in which Dream and the Morning Star face-off in a battle of cosmic scale is no mere magic of visual effects – it is a shamanic, shape-shifting dance of transformation which has its roots in myth and folklore.

It is a continuous chase in which its participants take on different shapes with one goal in mind: to overpower one another. In this form the mythical chase found its expression in the so-called 'wizard's duel', which we find in various European fairy tales and now before our eyes - as the Morning Star once again takes on the skin of the Serpent, poisoning the hunter-donning Morpheus in a visually stunning cosmic play.

Where does the transformation chase come from?

The Carmina Gadelica, a compendium of folkloric texts gathered in Scotland by the folklorist Alexander Carmichael in the 19th century, mentions a magical spell, or rather an occult power by the name of 'fith-fath' which can make one transform into something else or render them invisible. It is said that these transformations might have even occurred involuntarily. The Carmina Gadelica accentuates the importance of these spells to hunters, travelers and warriors, so that they could stay invisible and unrecognizable to animals and possible enemies.

The Mabinogion, a compilation of the earliest Celtic tales (first published in 1840), tells the story of Ceridwen, an enchantress of Welsh myth who had made a 'Cauldron of Inspiration'. The reason for making this magical cauldron is to help her disfigured son Morfran (Morvran ab Tegid) gain knowledge of the mysteries and the things to come. In this way, Ceridwen thought she could give her son a chance to prove himself to the world. As the year-long process of brewing a magical brew in the cauldron had begun, she employed a youth by the name of Gwion Bach to keep watch of the brew and to stir it as needed. One day, three drops of the brew fell out of the cauldron and found themselves on Gwion's finger. Feeling drawn to the liquid's power, he licked them off and instantly absorbed the mystical knowledge of all there is to come. Therefore, he knew this one thing as well – he must run, run from the wrath of Ceridwen, as this power was not his to have.

The sorceress sees him and begins the chase. Gwion, now having the power of transformation, turned into a hare trying to evade her. Ceridwen is now a lithe greyhound and there is no way for the hare to escape. Gwion runs towards a river and turning into a fish, escapes into the quick waters. A hungry and angry otter is the next form of Ceridwen, as she is hunting the fish. Gwion, swimming for his life, dons the wings of a bird in order to fly out of the water. The sorceress keeps up and turns herself into a hawk, a deadly bird of prey, ready to finish the shamanic, deadly chase. However, Gwion manages to outsmart her by becoming a grain of wheat on the floor of a barn, blending into the surroundings and becoming unnoticable. That is when Ceridwen becomes a black hen and finding the grains, eats Gwion in the process. It is this Gwion, now imbued with the magical powers of the Cauldron of Inspiration, who later gets 'born again' and becomes the mythical poet Taliesin.

One whose knowledge transgresses time and space, as this knowledge is beyond them both. Shapeshifting is a primordial memory, an ancient form of magic so deeply ingrained into our cultural muscle that it is continually expressing itself. Masked dances of old, ritual plays, the theatre and the movies – all a part of the same magical urge to transform, to move to another state of existence.

- Heidi (@theatrum-tenebrarum)

„I am a serpent. Horse-biting, poison-toothed.“ (Lucifer as a serpent in the transformation chase)

"I am a bird of prey. Snake-devouring, talons-ripping.“ (Morpheus as a bird of prey in the transformation chase, outsmarting Lucifer)

„I am a universe. All things encompassing, all life embracing.“ (Morpheus as a universe in the transformation chase)

„I am anti-life. The Beast of Judgement. The dark at the end of everything.“ (Lucifer, whose grand shadow looms in the background, is now anti-life, extinguishing the Life of a Universe)

Heidi (@theatrum-tenebrarum)

Wyoming Young and Strong Return with Another Pacific Northwest Gem

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

I've had my earphones filled with the sounds WYOMING YOUNG AND STRONG this week. The Seattle trio generates a brooding atmosphere on the order of Black Tusk and Kylesa, and similarly shout their lyrics (often in unison). There's something quite fierce, and even a bit joyful, about such a presentation. There are, after all, fantastic tales to be told!

Today, Doomed & Stoned is giving you a first-listen to Wyoming Young & Strong's spirited new single, "Tursulas," from the upcoming concept album, 'Wicked Upon You' (2023). The band has created a whole lore about this song:

"Tursulas" is the first song we wrote and recorded as a three piece. We’re really happy with how much more we can do with as a three piece. This song finds Wyoming right after the Winter War. He’s signed on to a ballista team, on the repurposed war ship that is to return the Tappurien Witches to their home. The Witches had been hired to support his side in the war but alas, even with their help the cause was hopeless.

After days at sea the crew encounters a monstrosity known as the Tursalas. The Tursalas is a tentacled horror that dwarfs the warship. They try in vain to escape but the ship is lost. Wyoming is thrown overboard but the witches manage to open some kind of magical portal, much like the portal that rescued him while he was floating in space after escaping the Shaman of Deimos. They seem to escape through it with a few of his fellow crew members. The song ends with Wyoming adrift and alone.

As the song opens, we are greeted by angsty arpeggios that finally erupt in a full-out riot. Strong bass tones, doomy guitar chords, and furious drumming both ground us and rock our world during the stormy five-and-a-half minute ride. The band crafts episodic moments that stimulate the imagination of the listener, inviting us to wonder. The recording falls easy on the ears, with all the instruments given realistic presence.

Look for Wyoming Young & Strong's Wicked Upon You, the band's second full-length album, on February 9th (pre-order here). Stick it on a playlist with early-Mastodon, Big Business, and Zirakzigil.

Give ear...

Wicked Upon You by Wyoming Young and Strong

SOME BUZZ

'Wicked Upon You,' Wyoming Young & Strong’s latest release, continues to tell the tale of our fabled hero Wyoming, a man who has journeyed across time and space after being forcibly and unwittingly transported to an unforgiving future. Wyoming has overcome challenges and grown through his adventures, learning about the evolution of humankind and his own magical lineage. His current path ties to his past, as his past ties to his future.

This release finds Wyoming in the midst of realization. Following the events chronicled on the previous Bend the Night 7-inch release, he has been a part of losing battle in the Winter War and is now tasked with returning the witches of Tappurien to their home. En route, their ship is attacked and destroyed by an ancient, gargantuan beast known as the Tursulas.

After floating at sea for days on the wreckage he is captured by the Grey Blade. This horrific submersible also holds other enslaved victims of the gods, and one regales him with the tale of Burned Path, outlining how his world has fallen and why Wyoming must find a way through this new hellish landscape of destruction.

The Grey Blade then delivers him to an old enemy of humankind that can best be described as an omniscient celestial. This being is all powerful, but yet still derives pleasure from tormenting humans. In the final saga Space Wizard, we hear about one of the mighty but delusional Magi that Wyoming previously met. His recollection of this event helps him understand more about how the Magi can at times falter, and what they must do for humankind to ascend.

Wyoming Young and Strong has been singing folk songs dedicated to this epic hero since their inception. Josh, Jason, and Josh have arranged these songs in the tradition of bass, drums, guitar, and vocals. Just like the Triad of the Vision before them, they wind the tales of Wyoming through the lens of stoner and noise rock. Taking inspiration from the Melvins, Shellac and Sleep.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

The Real Heart of Darkness

In 1899 King Leopold II of Belgium, who was the then private owner of the Congo Free State, knew there many scientific secrets, resources to plunder, hidden and unclaimed in his newly bought property, which happened to be larger than Westen Europe in size.

So it was a stroke of luck that the king’s German great nephew, Count Wolfgang Von Strassenberger desperately wanted to lead an expedition to traverse the innermost and until this day undiscovered (to western eyes) parts of the Congo and the secret treasures it held, on a steam boat down the Congo river.

Count Von Strassenberger had no experience in colonial expeditions especially in the most hazardous unknowns in the world, having only been somewhat of an observer on a Polynesian expedition in his his youth. But he was a philosopher, keen man of science and truth-seeker and was adamant that he would discover much on his expedition which would be funded entirely by his great uncle. Fame and monetary riches meant little to the German count who was a black sheep in his family.

There isn’t much information as to what happened to him next on his expedition apart from him and his crew went missing and were presumed dead, until the Count emerged 16 years later in 1915.

He is said to be a sickly and aged madman, when he presented himself to the the Belgian officials in Stanleyville now known as the city of Kisangani in the now Democratic Republic of Congo.

In the Count’s mad ramblings, he spoke of cannibalism , the grotesque deaths of his entire crew, strange lost cities of devils not of this planet, juju magic spells, shamans with tentacled limbs, river monsters, visiting a fairytale world called Xüaz and and other tales that would and still does make even the most rational of men quiver with fear. All of which was recorded by the Belgian colonial officials.

The Count would die a few days later, never making it back to his native Europe.

On the Count’s person he had a rolls of film which were later developed in Paris and a yet to be released diary. These are some of the photos that have been kept under lock and key in the museum of Brussels, until now.

COMING SOON - ANIME UPDATE V3

“V3″ in this case stands for “Version 3″. I did the V1 series of posts from late 2019 to the end of 2021, then did the V2 posts in 2022 and 2023. Time for another shake-up, once more before the last time.

Vinland Saga S2 will continue with its second half, and once I'm done with it, and once I'm done with it, the newly revived Kimi ni Todoke will be taking its place, itself to be followed by Vision of Escaflowne once I'm done with it.

Hunter x Hunter will continue to the end this year, and once I'm finally done with it, Fullmetal Alchemist will be taking its place.

SHUFFLE! will be a new anime I start up, and along with it will soon come the 13 episode AIR. Jun Maeda's prototype for CLANNAD, Kanon, would be the most likely to take its place afterwards.

Fate/Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works draws to a close, soon to be replaced by The Case Files Of Lord El Meloi II.

Konosuba will be taking over from Re:ZERO (talk about whiplash!), and once its done, its place will be taken by Black Cat.

Symphogear XV will finish off the Symphogear series, and once that's done, K-On!! will be taking its place.

Eureka Seven will continue through the year, and once I'm done with it, I'll finally look back to the Gundam franchise with Gundam Wing.

Gintama will be returning as well. with me finally getting closer towards the really good parts.

EXTRAs that I intend to also give watches to from now to perpetuity: A Certain Scientific Railgun, kame Ga Kill, Akiba Maid Wars, Attack On Titan, Azumanga Daioh, Bakugan Battle Brawlers, Baccano, Berserk, Black Butler, Bloom Into You, Blue Exorcist, BNA: Brand New Animal, Bungo Stray Dogs, Candy Candy, Captain Earth, Chainsaw Man, Code Geass R2, Cutey Honey, D-Gray Man, Date A Live, Demon Slayer, Digimon anime, Dragon Ball anime, Durarara, Full Metal Panic, Gabriel Drop Out, Great Pretender, Gundam & Macross anime, Gurren Lagann, Haruhi Suzumiya, Horimiya, Inuyasha, Kill La Kill, Little Busters, Little Witch Academia, Love Live! Nijiyon, Love Live! Superstar!!, Made In Abyss, Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic, Marmalade Boy, Megaman NT Warrior, Monster, Moriarty The Patriot, My Hero Academia, My Next Life As A Villaness, Nadia: The Secret Of Blue Water, Nichijou, Non Non Biyori, Odd Taxi, One Punch Man, Ouran High School Host Club, Persona The Animation, Pokemon anime, Pretty Cure, Princess Jellyfish, Puella Magi anime, Ranma 1/2, Rewrite, RWBY, Rurouni Kenshin, Sakugan, Shadows House, Shaman King, Shikimori's Not Just A Cutie, Slime Taoshite 300-Nen, Soul Eater, Steins;Gate, SSSS Gridman & Dynazenon, Tales of the Abyss The Animation, Tenchi Muyo, Tiger & Bunny, Trigun, The Demon Girl Next Door, The Girl Who Leapt Through Space, The Pet Girl Of Sakurasou, The Rising Of The Shield Hero, The World Ends With You Animation, Yuna Yuki Is A Hero, and likely plenty of others that might come my way, rewatches included.

Yeah.

Literary Witches: A Celebration of Magical Women Writers

As Writing Prompts~

wife, sister, virgin, whore

an incantation, a naming, a blessing, a curse

weavers, potters, cooks, and healers

flip to any page; follow your wyrd

conjurer of hurricanes, zombies, and tall tales

with each story, the basket gains an apple

alchymist of monsters, children, the living and the dead

a terrible baby, their very arrival a murder

even the freshest thing is mixed with rot

a painful tale about the creation of life and what happens to shunned, abandoned children

shaman of dew, hummingbirds, and mushroom language

could not read or write and lived in poverty on the mountains

healer and oral poet

hermit of hospitals, belonging, and lost souls

"You think you're the only one who doesn't belong?"

at least some creatures can find a home

receiving two hundred electroshock treatments and narrowly escaping a lobotomy

grand dame of trickery, murder, and teatime

"Most unpleasant."

a consolatory apricot biscuit

sibyl of masks, extraterrestrial eggs, and twisted fantasies

smashes the crystal ball on the ground

what remains--glass shards and a black, sticky substance

the room is clean and the crystal ball intact

madame of roses, geometry, and repetition

grow feathers, slink into worms, shrink into dragonflies--anything to get out

undine of introspection, opulent dreams, and voyages

some collect seashells, others chart the sun's movement

some keep house, make lace, pursue lovers

dakini of holy ecstasy, the dark one, and ankle bells

poison becomes ashamed

miraculously escaped their poisoning attempts twice

fantasma of silence, death, and lilacs

a bird of blue bones drops a piece of paper

the paper unfolds into a palace

step in through the door

the music hollows

cursed to hear it forever

give in, eat the bird whole

storyteller of rattlesnakes, turquoise, and the sacred desert

the drought has gone on too long

spider's silk holding all things together shines with the light

high priestess of scholars, volcanoes, and eros

a grim jewel of astronomical price

fondles their muscles over coffee and toast

sorceress of islands, venom, and histories

the soup boils down to a thick black sludge

soothsayer of utopias, creeping women, and evil wallpaper

the unseen fairy

the people must realize the changes for themselves

the disastrous, sexist "rest cure" prescribed for postpartum depression

sorceress of names, houses, and solitude

sometimes the mango is perfectly juicy, sometimes underripe, sometimes too sweet, or bruised

cigar in hand, walk into the jacaranda trees, hanging black bras off the branches

'Use this to climb out,' read the notes tied on with ribbon

guardian of the waters, the porcelain, and the lexicon

they love these puddles

they will not survive this one

wolf child fight their way to the bank of the river; they survive

after a lifelong struggle with mental illness

fairy godparent of bloody tales, the circus, and mirror

"Not another one."

doll in a red riding habit

and a bleeding wolf escapes from under the cloth

dark drops of blood sink into the soil and the roses bloom a deeper, more delicious red

sumptuous tapestries depicting sexual, violent scenes

ornamented with symbols and adjectives

warrior witch of otherness, bodies electric, and sisterhood

the sword is for slaying ghosts and demons along the way

lava filling their wounds

the coroner writes

populated with mothers, children, sisters, anger, cancer, the erotic, unicorns, snails eating dead snakes, witches, fire, and the importance of refusing silence

specter of windows, flies, and the unexpected

travels freely between the afterworld and this world

a white dress kneeling in the flowerbeds

rebel of sensual love, green gardens, and perfume

they never speak of it, but each man is haunted by his vision

withered leaves, wilted geraniums and lilacs

write explicitly about sexuality

siren of the lyre, honey, and ruins

the rest of the words are illegible

how seriously each child puts those wings on in the mirror

seer of peacocks, weird country people, and glass eyes

pray to see humanity clearly

the doors creak open

cosmic traveler of crows, horses, and survival

joy lies down in a field

the music is a spell

courageously survived an oppressive childhood, teenage pregnancy, and domestic abuse

koldunya of winter, endurance, and willows

the sodden papers become bandages for the wounded

rations of potatoes, cabbage, and milk

queen of miracles, generations, and memory

fury of motherhood, marriage, and the moon

dismembers mannequins with ferocious, precise claws

terrified into the thrill of living

enchantress of bitter love, treachery, and jewels

summons a moonbeam into a locked room

climb down to find an underground chamber

"I am the ruler of this prison."

locked up in the bedroom for six months

witch of villages, domestic horrors, and omens

rabid cats, poisoned beetles, blood-tipped needles

the ice cream section of the twenty-four-hour grocery store at three a.m.

doesn't need help finding anything

marries the ordinary with the supernatural

sower of strange seeds, species, and the future

mutating with violent need for food, power, and sex

covertly tosses seeds kept in pockets into the neighbors' yards

watcher of the moors, fantasy, and cruel romance

brushed the carpets and took walks in the hills

death of tuberculosis at thirty

There was a fair maiden/she lived all alone. (The Nixie's Tale, Part 2.)

For Eras, a geas binding the Nixie has prevented from revealing her story in full. As her current crew and friends continue to unravel this geas, the Nixie creates these crystalline memories; they are available for any to access within the ship.

((♪ ))

I was a magician.

This is what I remember, second. Lullabies: a babe’s first memories, dim and wordless like moss beneath the towering boughs of one’s mother. The spark of aether: a babe’s second impressions; a connection to life itself, freedom and cage in the same roving package, like one’s father. Scents of one’s first surroundings; the cleats that secure the mooring ropes of recollections, separating one from mother and father, becoming one’s own person with one’s own perspective.

Gentle, everyday gifts from the gods; the hallmark of the Age of Prayer, when I was born. They lived in everything around us: the crackling embers of the hearth; the eddies of wind that heralded weather’s changing; the thousand-thousand songs of mycelial filaments connecting plants beneath rich black soil. Too, they lived in spears of levin that rent blossomfruit trees asunder; the rustling of carrion birds picking scraps of scaled flesh from my father’s skull; the spiderwebbing cracks of ice across the waves that heralded the return of the Autumn Queen’s reavers. The shamans of my island walked closest to the gods and all their boons and burdens, but to know the gods was all of our birthrights. Yet another gift of ours that the reavers claimed as their own.

If only I had known that they were not alone in their rapacious appetites. That in comparison to the great Empire that fished me up from the sea Eras later, the Autumn Queen was no greater than a hedge witch. But even though I was a magician, the gift of clairvoyance was not bequeathed unto me, when I still walked the land to which I was born.

My final act as Himawari, the girl with cedar-green skin and sand-white scales, was to trap the Autumn Queen’s fleet within the shamans’ great undersea temple, calling upon the nixie-spirits of the river delta to aid me. The ships are still there today; suspended, half-broken, their crew members frozen for thousands of years within my song, augmented by the ice they carried in their northern blood. Because I was not a shaman, I, too, was trapped in this song of my own making; rolled within clear blue crystal like a grain of sand within an oyster’s protective pearl. I was cast away from my ancestral home and foes alike, trundled by the ocean’s currents along the seabed, the last glimmers of sunlight above receding until all that remained was the dim blue glow of my self-made prison.

I thought every thought that my mind could conjure. I clung to language; to spells; to lullabies and roving freedom and the smells of home and hearth. I tried to remain who I was; tried to remain part of the land and all its gifts, even as the great, silent beasts of the dark drifted past me, testing my crystal-pearl with teeth and tentacles. Finding it unbreakable, some carried me as an aegis; others carried me as a lure, using me to draw in half-blind creatures of darkness starving for light. Over time, I forgot my shape; I was nothing but blue crystal, born of a now-lost tribe and the spirits they shared life with. There was neither past nor future; only each moment, stretching out in blue-tinted darkness, its unbroken sameness occasionally jostled by some leviathan of the depths.

I was a magician trapped within my own threads of magic. An errant appliqué separated from the greater tapestry of the frozen reavers and their vessels, my physical form unravelling within the crystal-pearl, my flesh taking on qualities of the life that surrounded me. I hungered like they did, you see; to remain alive, despite the improbability of such a goal in crushing blackness.

One day, an unfamiliar sound scraped my crystal-pearl, harsher and sharper than teeth. I remembered a sensation I had forgotten; that of ascent. I was rising through the waters, clutched in some sort of shining claw. My crystal-pearl rotated within the claw until my eyes faced the surface, and I saw light. Impossibly-bright after the abyss, it grew nearer and nearer, partially occluded by a dark form riddled with red and blue lines of a different sort of light. I was pulled above the waves for the first time in centuries, and onto the deck of what I would later learn to be a battleship of the Allagan Empire.

They studied me, the men and women of the Empire, from outside the crystal-pearl. I was moved often, far from the sea, sometimes even into the heavens above. I could not understand how this was possible; at first, I thought these were the gods I dimly recalled from my youth, wearing elaborate robes and examining me with what I assumed to be holy relics. Once, I saw myself projected onto a screen in the middle of the air. I would not have known it was me if the tattered remnants of my colorful island robes hadn’t been floating around my… fins?! I had begun to change; to take on the physical qualities of the depths in which I’d tumbled for so long. My legs had begun to fuse into a finned tail, just like the nixies of the river; my pale scales were now the same color as my green skin; the webbing between my fingers, always present on those from my home isle, had grown larger, and each finger was tipped with squid-beak claws.

I did not know what they sought from me. After hundreds of years in the ocean’s solitude, there always seemed to be too much happening at once; my mind could not keep up. They spoke to me, sometimes; drilled tiny holes in my crystal-pearl and fed snaking tubes within them to reach me. I did not feel any pain; I had not felt anything since my own spell collided with the Autumn Queen’s protections and trapped me within my crystalline home. I did not understand the Allagan language, at first; but they kept me for so very long, and eventually I understood more than I did not. I watched some of their researchers, as I learned they were called, go from youth to old age before vanishing, replaced by a new crop. Sometimes, there were copies of the same researcher over and over again; clones, brought about in the Empire’s later years. It is difficult to recount these things now with the knowledge that hindsight brings; at the time, it felt like being in the deep sea all over again, with no concept of past nor future, only the brightly-lit chaos of each day, self-contained.

I was a magician, and now my magic was theirs. Another rapacious empire, come to claim the gifts of my birth.

Of all those who researched me, one was preeminent. I do not know what he looked like before he wore the elaborate plumed hat, the silver skull-like mask with chains for a mouth, the riotous varicolored coat. Amon, he was called, and he assured me he would give me purpose. He said I was a special being, indeed; that I would assist one Master Sari in his most holy endeavor; to lay enemy magicians to waste, that the Allagan Empire might reign forever more.

Amon gave me a voice; the voice I still bear to this day, when I am not in my own domain. It is not Himawari’s voice, I do not think; but then again, I do not remember what I originally sounded like; only that I was a musician, and a magician. Over the centuries, my crystal-pearl had absorbed the endless droning of the clipped-emotionless-mechanical voices around me; now, my voice was another in the chorus. My physical form within the crystal-pearl continued to grow and change; I knew this because the researchers became smaller, more distant, until eventually, they built walkways, each a story apart, so they could access all of me.

Master Sari took over the project. He was a magician, too; a powerful one, who had learned how to conquer what he called summoners, magicians from another isle, now under Allag’s yoke. I knew that I should be upset about this, but the grain of sand that was Himawari had not yet had time to lament this ironic twist of fate. As he settled me carefully within the center of a half-constructed ship tethered to an isle floating above the clouds, he told me of my great duty, zealous rapture enlarging his eyes. I was to bear his own summoners into battle against the remaining Meracydian insurgents. I would be a living ship’s core that could connect with each carefully-crafted soldier, tribes of summoners conscripted and corralled, their birthrights used against their former countrymen.

“It will help them to be able to refer to you by name, my dear. What is your name, exactly?” He paused, hands above the console, his self-constructed summoner’s horn pointed right at me. It was the first time any Allagan had ever asked me that question.

I was a musician, long ago. I was a magician, more recently, but still long ago. I could not remember my name, but I could remember my magicks. “Nixie”, I replied, in the voice Amon had given me; the voice for a creature molded in equal parts by the ocean’s ink-black crucible and the empire that had harnessed the sun's refulgence.

The Toyol [Indonesian/Javanese mythology]

In old Indonesian folklore – specifically from Java – there are tales of undead infants, named the Toyol or Tuyul. In Thailand, they are called Kumarn Thong, but the creature is the same. These beings used to be wandering spirits of aborted babies until a monk or shaman found them and provided them with a replacement body, which is usually a small statue (made from a variety of materials such as bone, wood or coral) that can be carried like an amulet. The spirit will inhabit the idol and will materialize whenever its owner has a task for it. Additionally, bits of old amulets can be ground together with ground bones of aborted fetuses to create a powerful protective talisman.

In practice, most Toyols owned by monks are ceramic dolls (often covered in a layer of gold) and don’t contain bones of aborted fetuses. But apparently, it does happen, albeit rarely. There’s a story about a woman in Thailand who was arrested in 2010 because she had 14 human fetuses in her home for the purpose of binding their spirits to create Toyols. The idea was that clients could request a baby corpse from her, and she got them from an “amateur abortionist”.

There are lots of rumors and old wives’ tales about Toyols and the people who make them because they are a popular topic of scary stories. Some people claim to know ritualists who visited graveyards at night to collect parts for spells, and some are about cruel men who rip babies out of their mother’s body to create a Toyol. Luckily, these tales are fiction.

The Toyol, when manifested as a material creature, resembles a human child but with either a grey or green skin. Their eyes are ink-black and they have razor sharp teeth and fingernails.

In most stories, owners of Toyol use their supernatural minion to steal valuables. For some reason, when stealing cash, the creature will only take bills and not coins. It’s kind of a combination of necromancy and child labor, really. True to their nature as undead infants, these creatures are childish and may refuse to work for you. To prevent this, a Toyol’s owner should provide it with toys, offerings, and a bed to sleep in.

Sources: McDaniel, J. T., 2013, The Lovelorn Ghost and the Magical Monk: Practicing Buddhism in Modern Thailand. Khairunnisa, A. and Wardhaningsih, M., A Book of Indonesian Ghosts. (image source: Zainal Danial on Artstation)

Episode Recaps

Here is a quick list of each episode recap I wrote.

Season 1

1 - The Inheritance

2 - The Poison Pen

3 - Cupid's Quiver

4 - A Cup of Time

5 - Hellowe'en

6 - The Great Montarro

7 - Doctor Jack

8 - Shadow Boxer

9 - Root of All Evil

10 - Tales of the Undead

11 - Scarecrow

12 - Faith Healer

13 - The Baron's Bride

14 - Bedazzled

15 - Vanity's Mirror

16 - Tattoo

17 - The Electrocutioner

18 - Brain Drain

19 - The Quilt of Hathor (1)

20 - The Quilt of Hathor (2): The Awakening

21 - Double Exposure

22 - The Pirate's Promise

23 - Badge of Honor

24 - Pipe Dream

25 - What a Mother Wouldn't Do

26 - Bottle of Dreams

Season 2

1 - Doorway to Hell

2 - The Voodoo Mambo

3 - And Now the News

4 - Tails I Live, Heads You Die

5 - Symphony in B#

6 - Master of Disguise

7 - Wax Magic

8 - Read My Lips

9 - 13 O'Clock

10 - Night Hunger

11 - The Sweetest Sting

12 - The Playhouse

13 - Eye of Death

14 - Face of Evil

15 - Better Off Dead

16 - Scarlet Cinema

17 - The Mephisto Ring

18 - A Friend to the End

19 - The Butcher

20 - Mesmer's Bauble

21 - Wedding in Black

22 - Wedding Bell Blues

23 - The Maestro

24 - The Shaman's Apprentice

25 - The Prisoner

26 - Coven of Darkness

Season 3

1 - The Prophecies (1)

2 - The Prophecies (2)

3 - Demon Hunter

4 - Crippled Inside

5 - Stick It in Your Ear

6 - Bad Penny

7 - Hate on Your Dial

8 - Night Prey

9 - Femme Fatale

10 - Mightier Than the Sword

11 - Year of the Monkey

12 - Epitaph for a Lonely Soul

13 - Midnight Riders

14 - Repetition

15 - The Long Road Home

16 - My Wife as a Dog

17 - Jack-in-the-Box

18 - Spirit of Television

19 - The Tree of Life

20 - The Charnel Pit

What’s Out This Week? 4/5

Better late than never, right?

Disney Villains: Scar #1 - Chuck Brown,Trevor Fraley & Jahnoy Lindsay

A startling new vision starring Disney's greatest villain, set within the world of The Lion King!  Eisner and Ringo Award-winning author Chuck Brown (Bitter Root) and stunning artist Trevor Fraley tell a tale of fire and fury, centered on an enraged Scar, unable to accept that he will never be king - not so long as long as Mufasa and his new son inhabit Pride Rock. A plan is starting to formulate within Scar's corrupt mind, which will bring him face-to-face with the mysterious shaman, Rafiki...

Hairball #1 (of 4) -  Matt Kindt & Tyler Jenkins

A brand-new supernatural nightmare that's Junji Ito meets Hayao Miyazaki from the Eisner-nominated creators of Fear Case and Apache Delivery Service. A young girl with a black cat begins to suspect the innocuous beast is behind all her troubles: her parents' fighting, family plagues, and innumerable supernatural horrors. As she tries her best to rid herself of this creature, she discovers that maybe the cat is not evil after all and a greater terror may be behind these horrific events harming her life.  

Junk Rabbit #1 (of 5) -  Jimmie Robinson

A new hero rises from mountains of consumer waste, mass homelessness, and devastating climate change. Some call the hero a myth, an urban legend, but others know that it's the JUNK RABBIT come to life!

JIMMIE ROBINSON brings a new take to the dystopian tale of how climate disaster alters not only our world, but also the heroes that literally rise from it. Swamp Thing meets RoboCop.

Parachute Kids GN - Betty Tang

Feng-Li can't wait to discover America with her family! But after an action-packed vacation, her parents deliver shocking news: They are returning to Taiwan and leaving Feng-Li and her older siblings in California on their own. Suddenly, the three kids must fend for themselves in a strange new world-and get along. Starting a new school, learning a new language, and trying to make new friends while managing a household is hard enough, but Bro and Sis's constant bickering makes everything worse. Thankfully, there are some hilarious moments to balance the stress and loneliness. But as tensions escalate-and all three kids get tangled in a web of bad choices-can Feng-Li keep her family together?

Second Coming: Trinity #1 (of 6) - Mark Russell, Richard Pace & Leonard Kirk 

Back again: The book that turned the comics industry upside-down with "quite a bit of humor...[and] a lot of heart" (The New York Times). Jesus Christ, the Son of God, tackles his biggest challenge in 2000 years: babysitting a child with super powers! Meanwhile, his roommate-the superhero called Sunstar-faces his greatest enemy, and his own guilt, in a court of law. Written and co-created by 2022 Eisner winner Mark Russell with art by co-creator Richard Pace and Leonard Kirk.

Sonic The Hedgehog #1 5th Anniversary Edition - Ian Flynn, Tracy Yardley & Tyson Hesse

It has been five years since Sonic the Hedgehog #1, can you believe it?! Five years of friendship, speediness, and chili dogs! To celebrate, we're getting the team back together! Join Ian Flynn and Tracy Yardley for a reprint of #1, plus an all-new bonus short story, a look at how the comics get made, and more!

The Sprite & The Gardener TP - Rii Abrego & Joe Whitt

Long, long ago, sprites were the caretakers of gardens. Every flower was grown by their hand. But when humans appeared and began growing their own gardens, the sprites' magical talents soon became a thing of the past. When Wisteria, an ambitious, kindhearted sprite, starts to ask questions about the way things used to be, she'll begin to unearth her long-lost talent of gardening. But her newly honed skills might not be the welcome surprise she intends them to be. The Sprite and the Gardener, the debut graphic novel by Joe Whitt and Rii Abrego, is bursting with whimsical art and vibrant characters. Join our neighborhood of sprites in this beautiful, gentle fantasy where both gardens and friendships blossom.

Star Trek Deep Space Nine: The Dog Of War #1 - Mike Chen & Angel Hernandez

BORK! An extremely rare purebred corgi from Earth makes its way aboard Deep Space 9 when Quark cuts a deal to procure it for a high buyer. After all, a Ferengi without profit is no Ferengi at all! But Latinum the corgi comes with unexpected cargo that shakes Captain Benjamin Sisko to the core: a Borg component discovered by a crew sent to uncover Cardassian technology after the station's reoccupation. Don't miss out on this exclusive "lost episode" celebrating the 30th anniversary of the fan-favorite show Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and debut comic series by acclaimed author Mike Chen (Star Wars: Brotherhood) and Star Trek comics artist extraordinaire Angel Hernandez!

Sweet Paprika: Black, White & Pink One-Shot - Mirka Andolfo

Infernum Press' sexy CCO, created by Harvey Award-winning superstar MIRKA ANDOLFO, returns with some all-new stories for a special in black, white, and...pink! 

A selection of fun and spicy adventures set within the SWEET PAPRIKA universe, presented by an outstanding array of talent from across the comics and entertainment industry, including KATANA COLLINS (Batman: White Knight Presents: Harley Quinn, Soul Stripper), STJEPAN ŠEJIC (Harleen, SUNSTONE), RETSU TATEO (Full Metal Panic), KIM KRIZAN (Before Sunrise), STEVE ORLANDO (Marauders, Scarlet Witch, COMMANDERS IN CRISIS), and more!

Tista GN Vol 1 - Tatsuya Endo

In New York City, the NYPD struggles to track down a serial killer known as Sister Militia, who has been targeting mobsters and other criminals in the Big Apple. No one knows who Sister Militia really is except a few residents of a Catholic orphanage. Her name is Tista...

Wheel Of Time: The Eye Of The World TP - Chuck Dixon, Robert Jordan & Chase Conley

The Eye of the World: The Graphic Novel has been hailed as an exciting interpretation of Robert Jordan's classic fantasy novel. The first volume introduces Rand al'Thor and his friends Matrim and Perrin at home in Emond's Field, shortly before the spring festival. Moiraine Damodred and Lan Mandragoran appear and almost before Rand knows it, a vicious band of half-men, half beasts invade the Two Rivers seeking their master's enemy. Moiraine must persuade Rand al'Thor and his friends to leave their home and enter a larger unimaginable world filled with dangers waiting in the shadows and in the light.

Whatcha snagging this week, Fantom Fam?

There was a king who ruled the land, his majesty was in command. With silver eyes and a scarlet eagle, Showered silver on the people.... The night sweetened by the cold air strikes the bell of the high tower of the castle making a sound eerie as the sculpt on the old silver of the bell. The look out and the bell hand were both up by the loud snaring sound and cursed its existence. The bell was not hollow and the wind had nowhere to go but as it happened almost every other night the wind somehow traveled in and out creating a hissing snare almost quite with its loudness. The whole of the high towers watching post was slippery due to the condensation and as with many cold winter nights the tower was covered with a cloudy mist and the city below was barely visible. The King had ordered a tightening of all security even within inner walls and these were many of the oddball jobs that most had to go through on whims of the king. Though generous he was paranoid like no king before even of tales. The recent dreams of the past were of no concern to most as a humane experience of everyday regret or lost opportunity. The Gods if any for this King had blessed him with reoccurring nightmares of not regrets but of future and the futures past that presented itself as the present. The King had and had been a tyrant for those of the old ways of thinking, a look away from god is a look away from anything humane hence he was naturally dubbed the devil of the castle on a hill of lies foretold by lost prophets of an evil cult, that of science. The king threw money not as once did his ancestors at crowds or the temples. He took the money to the seers of science, for education in its dark arts. The people themselves were not happy, as with most rules. Even with a state of abundance of life and its fruits of pleasure the people were not happy. The sadness of a King not accepting the all true fact of life was all that was troubling for the people. Some spent time in debates with his cults, others spent time theorising and conspiring. Though the King feared more the future and the present he had all but forgotten and forgave the past of his ancestors. He ended his wars, he ended grievances with past families. The Future was of uncertainty but the uncertainty of the futures past i.e. the present was what scared the King. He wished control, he desired conquest but the fates of these decisions led him to often hours of anxiety of the outcome. His only relief and the deciding factor to the answer of these questions was what the seers called the probability of an outcome. He prayed so dearly every time, he stood in front of the black wall and did the prayers of calligraphy of symbols and numbers to their 10th. His passion and devotion unlike any. The world was now engulfed in what some call its final year. The year of the fated destruction of the first and last regime of the first cycle of rebirth. The Gods decided the first to be the purest and the one deciding the fair and unfair, the just and the unjust, the civilized and the uncivilized. The path chosen by one king of the hundreds would befall the final regime and cave it into the hell of the afterlife. For the first time will the dead dance with living on the floor of hell and the caved in earth of the kingdom will serve as the platter for the gods of the beyond The prophecy so true that the Kings before had but shamans as advisors and all was decided by the will of the whims of a mystical magic. One of the occults and made of pure death. The King as of now was well aware and chose the death of his people as a Harbinger of the death of millions by the hands of the  dead. Why he chose what he did was a game of numbers. He prayed and prayed hard and found the answer to the 100th before choosing what he did. Intentions unknown and the rule of the divine chosen as a constant the people followed to demise with little resistance other than the complaints. One would call these people sheeps but the herder was the divine and this the questions raised were just thoughts, fleeting. The randomness of the divine was not the question of the living but the answer of the divine of its own actions. The King on the final day of the reckoning was approached by the leader of the occult and the question asked was direct with no connotations. Why choose to give up the divine while still following his pre-destined path. Does the contradiction not stare him into his face for once can he not look beyond the rebellion of his feeble mind against the very divine he wishes to be fed too. The king spoke in a way that was unlike him, his voice beyond comparison to his own and the tonality of wisdom of a sage, Why must the path one choose the one that has to be followed, is the choice of his own path not the very proof of free will. If the divine chose a path for me, will my deviation from it not just be my proof of free will but if it leads to the path destined it is still my free will of choice that created it. The idea that free will in destiny is impossible is untrue for free will creates Destiny may it be written one way the destiny one has to follow is created once free will is added to the decision. The shaman of the old crumbled under the weight of such an argument and cursed himself for stooping to the level of a king begotten of his own work and duty. The day of reckoning was upon the king himself suited in the greatest armour of the first of his lineage. The studed scarlet in the shape of an eagle at the helm with a sword of silver as beautiful as god himself. The massacre began but the fate was twisted for the one leading the charge against his own was the King mounted on his horse as he charged and the dead danced with the living with swords made of bones of their own comrades. The King had wiped his own kingdom as a feast for the gods to behold. The gods were replaced that day by the king himself for he had chosen his destiny and created himself the lord of it. The king fulfilled a destiny of the gods that was never meant to be, to be the god that never was. He created pain and suffering  of new kinds to instill hos godly power. The first and last regime of the first cycle of rebirth, ended with god being instilled into the second.

The Real Heart of Darkness

In 1899 King Leopold II of Belgium, who was the then private owner of the Congo Free State, knew there many scientific secrets, resources to plunder, hidden and unclaimed in his newly bought property, which happened to be larger than Westen Europe in size.

So it was a stroke of luck that the king’s German great nephew, Count Wolfgang Von Strassenberger desperately wanted to lead an expedition to traverse the innermost and until this day undiscovered (to western eyes) parts of the Congo and the secret treasures it held, on a steam boat down the Congo river.

Count Von Strassenberger had no experience in colonial expeditions especially in the most hazardous unknowns in the world, having only been somewhat of a observer on a Polynesian expedition in his his youth. But he was a philosopher, keen man of science and truth-seeker and was adamant that he would discover much on his expedition which would be funded entirely by his great uncle. Fame and monetary riches meant little to the German count who was a black sheep in his family.

There isn’t much information as to what happened to him next on his expedition apart from him and his crew went missing and were presumed dead, until the Count emerged 16 years later in 1915.

He is said to be a sickly and aged madman, when he presented himself to the the Belgian officials in Stanleyville now known as the city of Kisangani in the now Democratic Republic of Congo.

In the Count’s mad ramblings, he spoke of cannibalism , the grotesque deaths of his entire crew, strange lost cities of devils not of this planet, juju magic spells, shamans with tentacled limbs, river monsters, visiting a fairytale world called Xüaz and and other tales that would and still does make even the most rational of men quiver with fear. All of which was recorded by the Belgian colonial officials.

The Count would die a few days later, never making it back to his native Europe.

On the Count’s person he had a rolls of film which were later developed in Paris and a yet to be released diary. These are some of the photos that have been kept under lock and key in the museum of Brussels, until now.

Congo🖤

Dnd Explained Uthgardt

The Uthgardt are a black haired and blue eyed people large hale territorial folk who don't trust outsiders. Few Uthgardt are willing to trade with non-Uthgardt settlements. Many are raiders who pillage and destroy any caravan or homestead they come across.

The Uthgardt take their name from Uthgar Gardolfson a great hero-chief who battled giants and conquered much of the north before ascending to godhood. In addition to revering Uthgar each tribe venerates a totem animal spirit after which the tribe is named.

Numerous Uthgardt tribes have been vanquished over the years and at least 1 tribe previously thought to be extinct has returned in force. There are currently 11 known Uthgardt tribes scattered throughout the north. Each one claims a vast tract of wilderness as its hunting ground territory that often overlaps with the hunting grounds of other Uthgardt tribes as well as land claimed by Orcs, Dragons, Goblinoids, and other creatures. Encountrs with the Uthgardt can occur almost anywhere.

The Uthgardt speak their own language (called Bothii) which has no alphabet. Each tribe is made up of several widely scattered clans each with its own chieftan and shaman. The chieftans of a particular tribe choose one among them to become the great chief of the tribe with power comparable to a monarch.

The Uthgardt typically bury their dead under cairns and earthen mounds. These burial sites are scattered throughout the north in out of the way places. Each Uthgardt tribe also has a single spirit mound that is sacred to its people. A spirit mound is where members of the tribe gather to rever Ulthgar honor their ancestors make sacrifices to their totem animal spirit and choose a new great chief when the old one dies. The Uthgardt believe that their ancestors trapped their totem spirits under these mounds so that they and their descendents could commune with the spirits and gain their power.

The Uthgardt fear magic so much that they will attempt to kill and dismember spellcasters they meet. Tribal shamans are not attacked because their power comes from the spirits of their dead ancestors.

The Uthgardt hunt and forage for food. With 1 exception among the tribes they don't build houses or permanant settlements preferring a nomadic lifestyle.

Uthgardt tribes will unite against a common enemy. The Uthgardt hate giants most of all Uthgardt legends are replete with tales of how evil giatns slew their ancestors and threatened Uthgar's rise to godhood.

(Note: Picture is from someone on Deviantart) 

Potential Character for Mrs. Kelsey and Tumblr 4/18/2023: 

 Rosalind and “Beastly”, Daughter of Beauty and the Beast: 

 What she’s from: Legacy Quest: School of Good and Evil Chronicles. 

Appearance: (Beastly is in front, Rosalind is in back). 

(By the way, Storm Hollow is the central locale in the world of Faerie, the land of fairy tales and legends) 

Background: 

Rosalind is the scholarly daughter of the couple known in our world as “Beauty and the Beast” (or “Belle” and “Adam”, if you prefer). Like most children, growing up, Rosalind had imaginary friends. However, she never grew out of one of them: A creature calling itself “Beastly.” When they first met, Beastly apparently seemed surprised that Rosalind could see and hear her. 

One day, Rosalind was playing near the woods, and a group of bandits who wanted to extort Belle and Adam by kidnapping Rosalind turned up. Rosalind didn’t know what to do. Then, she heard Beastly say that she’d protect Rosalind if Rosalind would just “let her in”. Agreeing to these terms, Rosalind blacked out. 

When she came to, her dress was torn, she was dirty, her father and mother were holding her close, and she could hear Beastly laughing and saying “We’re going to have such fun together!” 

As it turned out, one of the guards witnessed her turn into what he described as a “Beastess”, fight off the bandits, then look at herself and say “Finally! I’m back!”, then run into the woods. 

Belle, naturally, dove into the library’s books of magic, and Adam hired various magicians, sorcerers, wizards, warlocks, shamans, priests, mediums, and others to help. As it turned out (according to Beastly herself), Beastly was apparently the living manifestation of the curse Adam had once had on him. When he was cured, Beastly had somehow been created, in the form of living magical energy, unable to physically interact with the world, unable to be seen or heard by anyone… until Rosalind entered the picture. 

Beastly, for her part, refused to leave, saying she had a right to existence, like any other being. 

Beastly’s existence was one of the reasons Belle and Adam decided to send Rosalind to the School for Good and Evil (the premiere institution in Storm Hollow, where future heroes and villains were trained): They hoped to gain access to the famous library at the School, in the hopes of gaining access to a way to get rid of Beastly. 

But something happened at the School. Something NONE of them could have anticipated: The sinister villain known as the Dark Undermaster attacked, capturing the School in the hopes of gaining leverage over the parents of the students. However, some of the students managed to escape, including Rosalind. Now, they find themselves fighting against the Undermaster and his agents, and Beastly has proven to be more useful than anticipated… 

How she/they is/are like me: 

Rosalind turns into Beastly whenever she reaches a certain level of anger or stress. Beastly is effectively an “Id unchained”. She wants to help Rosalind get what she wants, but often causes trouble when she appears due to HOW she attempts to help Rosalind. This is similar to me when I’m at a “level 4 ½” or a “level 5”. I try to avoid this with things like Prana Breathing, hugs, a certain pill, or going off to cool down. 

 Kelsey’s Notes: 

“Id unchained”- like Dr. Jeckel/ Hyde, the incredible Hulk 

Aggression is the emotion so it’s different from Seeing Red because Mei Lei lacked that and was just super overwhelmed with whatever emotion she was feeling in the moment.  

 Maybe- part of Beastly’s problem is focusing too much on trying to FIX something that she can’t fix without help from someone or without being in a 100% calm state 

“She wants to help Rosalind but gets into trouble trying to go about the way she tries to help Rosalind” 

She gets in more of a heightened state trying to fix the problem when she is in the moment- her head is not completely clear, and it is blocked from seeing the solution 

           Sometimes we can’t see the real solution until we’ve let our mind COMPLETLEY clear because it takes TIME to process what has happened 

We can’t control how our emotions revolve without giving something the appropriate amount of time to settle 

Trying to fix something IMMEDIATELY to make things right end up getting us more in trouble 

Beastly is some part that stuck around when the Beast was returned to his human form, Rosalind joined the school because her parents ulterior motives to get rid of this entity “Beastly” 

Because they need to fight a strong magical force (Dark Undermaster), Beastly’s aggression is going to come in handy and give them an advantage 

Aggression is the stronger form of anger, which you need to be aggressive to fight off a magical force like the dark undermaster 

They need to “reluctantly tolerate” Beastly at the moment 

She needs to balance herself- she doesn’t always need to be in fight mode and she has to recognize that there is a time and a place to be in that “mode” 

👀

The Real Heart of Darkness

In 1899 King Leopold II of Belgium, who was the then private owner of the Congo Free State, knew there many scientific secrets, resources to plunder, hidden and unclaimed in his newly bought property, which happened to be larger than Westen Europe in size.

So it was a stroke of luck that the king’s German great nephew, Count Wolfgang Von Strassenberger desperately wanted to lead an expedition to traverse the innermost and until this day undiscovered (to western eyes) parts of the Congo and the secret treasures it held, on a steam boat down the Congo river.

Count Von Strassenberger had no experience in colonial expeditions especially in the most hazardous unknowns in the world, having only been somewhat of an observer on a Polynesian expedition in his his youth. But he was a philosopher, keen man of science and truth-seeker and was adamant that he would discover much on his expedition which would be funded entirely by his great uncle. Fame and monetary riches meant little to the German count who was a black sheep in his family.

There isn’t much information as to what happened to him next on his expedition apart from him and his crew went missing and were presumed dead, until the Count emerged 16 years later in 1915.

He is said to be a sickly and aged madman, when he presented himself to the the Belgian officials in Stanleyville now known as the city of Kisangani in the now Democratic Republic of Congo.

In the Count’s mad ramblings, he spoke of cannibalism , the grotesque deaths of his entire crew, strange lost cities of devils not of this planet, juju magic spells, shamans with tentacled limbs, river monsters, visiting a fairytale world called Xüaz and and other tales that would and still does make even the most rational of men quiver with fear. All of which was recorded by the Belgian colonial officials.

The Count would die a few days later, never making it back to his native Europe.

On the Count’s person he had a rolls of film which were later developed in Paris and a yet to be released diary. These are some of the photos that have been kept under lock and key in the museum of Brussels, until now.

#midjourney #aiart #mythology

The Real Heart of Darkness. In 1899 King Leopold II of Belgium, who was the then private owner of the Congo Free State, knew there many scientific secrets, resources to plunder,  hidden and unclaimed in his newly bought property, which happened to be larger than Western Europe in size. So it was a stroke of luck that the king’s German great nephew, Count Wolfgang Von Strassenberger desperately wanted to lead an expedition to traverse the innermost and until this day undiscovered (to western eyes) parts of the Congo and the secret treasures it held, on a steam boat down the Congo river.  Count Von Strassenberger had no experience in colonial expeditions especially in the most hazardous unknowns in the world, having only been somewhat of a observer on a Polynesian expedition in his his youth. But  he was a philosopher, keen man of science and truth-seeker and was adamant that he would discover much on his expedition which would be funded entirely by his great uncle. Fame and monetary riches meant little to the German count who was a black sheep in his family. There isn’t much information as to what happened to him next on his expedition apart from him and his crew went missing and were presumed dead, until the Count emerged 16 years later in 1915. He is said to be  a sickly and aged madman, when he presented himself to the the Belgian officials in Stanleyville now known as the city of Kisangani in the now Democratic Republic of Congo. In the Count’s mad ramblings, he spoke of cannibalism , the grotesque deaths of his entire crew, strange lost cities of devils not of this planet, juju magic spells, shamans with tentacled limbs, river monsters, visiting a  fairytale world called Xüaz and and other tales that would and still does make even the most rational of men quiver with fear. All of which was recorded by the Belgian colonial officials. The Count would die a few days later, never making it back to his native Europe. On the Count’s person he had a rolls of film which were later developed in Paris and a yet to be released diary. These are some of the photos that have been kept under lock and key in the museum of Brussels, until now.