ougughuhrhhghhuhrhhhghhhghhh lighting

[reduced resolution; click here for more info]

✨HELLO RVB FANDOM I AM ASKING FOR YOUR GUIDANCE✨

I don’t know if any of you know much about Tarot, but I am in the process of drawing an rvb tarot deck and these are my thoughts for which character should be assigned to each of the major arcana cards.

Included in parentheses after the character are some trailers generally associated with that arcana (to my understanding)

Please feel free to let me know in comments/tags if YOU think these fit/what fits better so I can potentially make the deck!

_____________ {arcana below fold} _____________

💙 Fool- Caboose (new beginning, fresh start, risk, a chance, new cycle, originality, fearlessness, travel, innocence, being green, trickster, acting foolish)

❤️ Magician- Tex (talent, skill, power, magic, control, manifest, tools, mastery, willpower, focus)

💙 High priestess- CT (intuition, feminine wisdom, hidden knowledge, secrecy, initiation, receptivity, spirituality, the inner world)

❤️ Empress- Allison (feminine power, abundance, fertility, pregnancy, marriage, creativity, receptivity, pleasure, mothering, nurturing, giving birth)

💙 Emperor- The Director (Order, structure, authority, power, boss, masculine, father, ownership, autonomy)

❤️ Heirophant- Sarge (tradition, structure, teacher, mentor, counselor, religion, dogma, advice, status quo, organization, conformity, rules, church, obedience)

💙 Lovers- Grif and Simmons (romance, partnership, love, choices, duality, opposites, union)

❤️ Chariot- Shiela (triumph, directed willpower, control, direction, movement, progress, vehicle)

💙 Strength- Carolina (strength, inner power, self control, calm, endure, willpower)

❤️ Hermit- Epsilon (inner wisdom, solitude, withdrawal, quiet, teacher or guru, research, seeker)

💙 Wheel of fortune- The Triplets, or the Chorus Rebels??? I can’t decide (luck, change, a turn of events, karma, movement, shift, improvement, fate)

❤️Justice- Doc & O’Malley (fairness, court, justice, balance, weighing options, seeing both sides, consequences, integrity, honesty, truth, law, middle path)

💙 Hanged man- Temple (sacrifice, letting go, faith, suspension, waiting, hang-ups, martyr, illusion, surrender)

❤️ Death- Felix (ending, transition, transformation, release, change, severance)

💙 Temperance- Lopez (moderation, balance, healing, alchemy, middle ground, patience, blending, harmony, guardian angel)

❤️ Devil- Meta/Sigma (bondage, materialism, negativity, slavery, addiction, stuck, jealousy, deviance, excess)

💙 Tower- Kimball (chaos, disruption, tearing down, rebuilding, uncertainty, blow, enlightenment, unexpected change, overthrow, revolution)

❤️ Star- Donut (hope, optimism, healing, balance, spirituality, health, well being, peace, wishes, vulnerability, success, balance)

💙 Moon- Wash (intuition, illusion, deception, darkness, reflection, fear, subconscious, dreams, difficulty, fear, imagination)

❤️ Sun- Tucker (optimism, success, joy, birth, happiness, health, inner child, energy, enthusiasm)

💙 World- Rooster Teeth Founders? Or Blood Gulch? Or RVB kill switch? (completion, ending, success, travel, closure, graduation, Universe, freedom, environment, rebirth)

https://www.thetarotlady.com/tarot-card-meanings/

^^possible link for meaning reference

<<I have individual assignments for nearly all the minor arcana too, but that would be far too long to post here>>

oh yeah if they put Witch Kiriko in the Credits shop for Halloween then. well uh. RIP to her mythic skin as far as I'm concerned.

I mean I'm not like a super frequent Kiriko player, I'll usually just pick her in my rotation of not getting bored playing the same support too many matches in a row, but uh... yeah her Mythic is kind of the worst one so far by a decent margin in my book.

Also while the rest of the Season 7 pass from what we've seen so far looks kinda... mneh, gonna be honest the western gothic creepy theme isn't really landing with me, at least the (kind of unrelated besides "dark and spooky") Hanzo Mythic actually looks pretty solid. Bad news is that it's... uh... Hanzo... so uh. huh.

I'm so mad I'm not missing this one but I missed Cyber Demon Genji and Knight Tracer AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH I'm so so eternally enraged I missed that one. Genji's is just cool and Tracer combines my favorite DPS character with an awesome fantasy knight theme, while Hanzo is. one of the few characters in this entire cast of nearly 40 that I don't like all that much.

I guess to get out my other Mythic thoughts (since I have all the others):

Zeus JQ: Grinded the hell out of Season 2 to just barely get this one in time and it was vaguely worth it. Gonna be stiff competition replacing this one, the effects are cool but to be honest the main appeal is just the big muscley lady getting to show off. Not a fan of the red/pink coloration but that's my only complaint.

Amaterasu Kiriko: Again, the worst Mythic so far imo, and honestly one of my least favorite out of Kiriko's skins in general. Better than her Season 1 BP skin at least, but really this one just doesn't play into Kiriko's design in any interesting ways for me, it just makes her generically fancy. The options don't really do anything for me either, all of them just slightly change the amount of "meh" it makes me feel.

Emperor Sigma: A bit mixed on this one honestly. Still like it overall, but it's got a few shortcomings that make it my second least favorite. The overall design is slick, but it's another one where the variants are a bit of a letdown. The ugly beige color option just does nothing for me, but the default black and purple is a combo I don't have much issue with sticking to. The shoulder armor options are kinda whatever, and while I love the M Bison hat plus eyepatch head, the other options are just... eh. Also, while the overhauled visual effects are fantastic, especially the tractor beam ult, there's a change I'm oddly not super fond of in this skin, that being his voice lines. This is petty, but like... I don't like how mean this skin makes him. I mean, I get that's the point, the space dictator isn't meant to be friendly, but Sigma being a calm, likeable goober most of the time despite being on the bad guy team is part of why he's such a fun character to me, so the flattened characterization is kind of jarring. let me be the silly floaty space man without all my voice lines telling my teammates to get on their knees. Overall great skin, but I have enough reasons to unequip it sometimes. Sigma's got some phenomenal skins, and even some of his Epics like his OG Talon skin are fantastic, at least to me.

Wargod Ana: Of the ones I own, this is definitely my favorite. Just in concept I adore it, of all the options to make the Null Sector mechanisation gimmick into a Mythic skin, Ana was such a cool choice. She's not a super "grandiose" character normally, but the subtle theming of this "ultimate war machine" makes her feel so cool and plays with her aesthetic in such a distinctly cool way. Shoot, the dubiously canon lore for the skin is cool too. The idea of a Null Sector bot that was made in an attempt to copy Ana's combat skill, but got corrupted because of her memories is such a cool way to reflect on Ana as a character that I'm almost a little mad Wargod isn't her own character?? This shows in the voicelines too. While Sigma's personality deviation put me off there, for Ana it feels a bit less... conflicting? Instead of taking a morally complicated but friendly character and turning him into a simple bad guy, this takes a slightly jaded but thoroughly good-hearted and good-acting character, takes her good parts away, and leaves the ruthlessness that was still there in the original. Plus, the voice lines aren't as outright mean, but feel effectively menacing. The change to "You're powered up, destroy them" is so simple and almost goofy, but feels so cool in practice. But that's not even going into the skin itself. While some other Mythics have some neat reference point for their style, Wargod Ana is just a perfect medley of the Null Sector suite of aesthetics. Each of the color variants is something used by existing PvE enemies. The designs also just feature bits and pieces of Null Sector bots too. Not only that, but the armor variants also serve as iterative upgrades. The first variant looks almost like a slicer that grew into gangly human proportions, with exposed, primitive-looking limb mechanisms. The second variant meanwhile, while my least favorite, now actually looks like a Null Sector mini-boss unit. The third one meanwhile feels like a proper character on par with Ana herself, with actual cloth over her legs and a more complex and organic-looking design overall, almost like a bride of frankenstein counterpart to Ramattra. Speaking of, her rifle options also directly reference the man himself, with the first variant having the claw-and-orb part of his Void Accelerator towards the back, while the second has a ribcage-like design reminiscent of his torso. Also points to this one for being arguably the highest percentage of variants I'd actually consider using, the middle body design is a bit meh, and looks actively kinda bleh with the third color option, but aside from that they look great. It's hard for me to swap off the default purple and white, but combining the red color with the third body variant is a hell of a combo too. There's even more great details! The audio effect changes are great as ever, especially for Nano Boost, but her gun also just sounds super satisfying to shoot too. And like!! With her beach ball emote, the beach ball is replaced with a Null Sector bomb guy's bomb!! Come on, how is this not the best Mythic yet.

...this post was just me hoping I could get Witch Kiriko without paying money and turned into an essay about Wargod Ana. oops.

anyways the next mythic skin should be King Dedede Reinhardt.

No i wouldnt mind the answer at all- but why do i have a strong sense of dejavu that someones gonna die?

Okay well, basing what I know of these characters and deep diving their personalities, how they came to be, their thought processes, how they behave etc, etc.-

Emperor Belos would absolutely try and kill both Sigma and King Dark Cacao Cookie (but have a hell of a time trying to do it). He is first and foremost, a witch hunter. And nothing about Sigma and Dark Cacao scream "I am a normal human being".

(More under the link cause I'm someone that can not shut up once you get me talking about shit I like ughhgh)

Sigma is a man from the far far FAR flung future, who can use science to explain away a lot of what Belos and people of his settler time period fear. Sigma can definitely explain away their "God" and how the universe actually came to be (when...idk maybe Belos still believes the Earth revolves around the sun or that the Earth is flat) and try to explain that universe is nothing but a holovid (Belos: what the bloody hell is a holovid?); that the universe sings to him and only he can hear it and understand it, and that The Iris is more than likely our "God". But words and ideologies like that^ would be considered heresy and deemed as the talk of a "witch" or a "devil worshipper" and Belos would try and have him killed. And its like "good luck buddy boy, Siebren de Kuiper can and will turn your body into stardust. Lore-wise he is the most powerful character in the Overwatch universe and in this TED Talk I'll-"

Now Dark Cacao is an enchanted cookie hundred of years old created by witches. WITCHES. And he's ENCHANTED. That alone is enough is for Belos to want to kill him. But again, he'd have a hell of time trying to achieve that. Dark Cacao is immortal. Unless his Soul Jam is taken away and destroyed you can't kill him. He survived two assassination attempts and plummeting to his death just because his Soul Jam was hidden away.

He ended the battle between two dragons by himself (as the story of the founding of the Dark Cacao Kingdom goes) and no one else can wield the sword that harbours it (the Soul Jam), only Dark Cacao. This man is almost as powerful as Sigma, and would have no problem hindering Belos in his plans or even doing away with him entirely as to stop him from harming anyone else. (this is if Belos can even get past Cacao's entire army which have their own magic wielders)

I am certain Dark Cacao wouldn't have to go "berserk" just because his life was in danger thanks to Belos. It didn't happen before. It more than likely happened that one time as a defense mechanism from dark magic trying its hardest to corrupt him and the purity of the Soul Jam fighting back, coupled with Dark Cacao's strong resolve and locked away heart. And it unfortunately turned him into what he feared the most, a monster from the Licorice Sea.

But yea, tl;dr Belos would hate them, call them witches, try and kill them but ultimately fail because Sigma and Dark Cacao Cookie are far more powerful than any "Wild Witch" that Belos has encountered.

Events 6.28

1098 – Fighters of the First Crusade defeat Kerbogha of Mosul at the battle of Antioch. 1360 – Muhammed VI becomes the tenth Nasrid king of Granada after killing his brother-in-law Ismail II. 1461 – Edward, Earl of March, is crowned King Edward IV of England. 1495 – A French force heavily defeats a much larger Neapolitan and Spanish army at the battle of Seminara, leading to the creation of the Tercios by Gonzalo de Córdoba. 1519 – Charles V is elected Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. 1575 – Sengoku period of Japan: The combined forces of Oda Nobunaga and Tokugawa Ieyasu are victorious in the Battle of Nagashino. 1635 – Guadeloupe becomes a French colony. 1651 – The Battle of Berestechko between Poland and Ukraine starts. 1745 – A New England colonial army captures the French fortifications at Louisbourg (New Style). 1776 – American Revolutionary War: The Battle of Sullivan's Island ends with the American victory, leading to the commemoration of Carolina Day. 1776 – American Revolutionary War: Thomas Hickey, Continental Army private and bodyguard to General George Washington, is hanged for mutiny and sedition. 1778 – American Revolutionary War: The American Continentals engage the British in the Battle of Monmouth Courthouse resulting in standstill and British withdrawal under cover of darkness. 1797 – French troops disembark in Corfu, beginning the French rule in the Ionian Islands. 1807 – Second British invasion of the Río de la Plata; John Whitelocke lands at Ensenada on an attempt to recapture Buenos Aires and is defeated by the locals. 1838 – Coronation of Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom. 1841 – The Paris Opera Ballet premieres Giselle in the Salle Le Peletier. 1855 – Sigma Chi fraternity is founded in North America. 1859 – The first conformation dog show is held in Newcastle upon Tyne, England. 1865 – The Army of the Potomac is disbanded. 1870 – The US Congress establishes the first federal holidays (New Year Day, July 4th, Thanksgiving, and Christmas). 1880 – Australian bushranger Ned Kelly is captured at Glenrowan. 1881 – The Austro–Serbian Alliance of 1881 is secretly signed. 1882 – The Anglo-French Convention of 1882 marks the territorial boundaries between Guinea and Sierra Leone. 1894 – Labor Day becomes an official US holiday. 1895 – The United States Court of Private Land Claims rules James Reavis’s claim to Barony of Arizona is "wholly fictitious and fraudulent." 1896 – An explosion in the Newton Coal Company's Twin Shaft Mine in Pittston, Pennsylvania results in a massive cave-in that kills 58 miners. 1902 – The U.S. Congress passes the Spooner Act, authorizing President Theodore Roosevelt to acquire rights from Colombia for the Panama Canal. 1904 – The SS Norge runs aground on Hasselwood Rock in the North Atlantic 430 kilometres (270 mi) northwest of Ireland. More than 635 people die during the sinking. 1911 – The Nakhla meteorite, the first one to suggest signs of aqueous processes on Mars, falls to Earth, landing in Egypt. 1914 – Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria and his wife Sophie are assassinated in Sarajevo; this is the casus belli of World War I. 1917 – World War I: Greece joins the Allied powers. 1919 – The Treaty of Versailles is signed, ending the state of war between Germany and the Allies of World War I. 1921 – Serbian King Alexander I proclaims the new constitution of the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes, known thereafter as the Vidovdan Constitution. 1922 – The Irish Civil War begins with the shelling of the Four Courts in Dublin by Free State forces. 1926 – Mercedes-Benz is formed by Gottlieb Daimler and Karl Benz merging their two companies. 1936 – The Japanese puppet state of Mengjiang is formed in northern China. 1940 – Romania cedes Bessarabia and Northern Bukovina to the Soviet Union after facing an ultimatum. 1942 – World War II: Nazi Germany starts its strategic summer offensive against the Soviet Union, codenamed Case Blue. 1945 – Poland's Soviet-allied Provisional Government of National Unity is formed over a month after V-E Day. 1948 – Cold War: The Tito–Stalin Split results in the expulsion of the League of Communists of Yugoslavia from the Cominform. 1948 – Boxer Dick Turpin beats Vince Hawkins at Villa Park in Birmingham to become the first black British boxing champion in the modern era. 1950 – Korean War: Suspected communist sympathizers (between 60,000 and 200,000) are executed in the Bodo League massacre. 1950 – Korean War: Packed with its own refugees fleeing Seoul and leaving their 5th Division stranded, South Korean forces blow up the Hangang Bridge in an attempt to slow North Korea's offensive. The city falls later that day. 1950 – Korean War: The Korean People's Army kills almost a thousand doctors, nurses, inpatient civilians and wounded soldiers in the Seoul National University Hospital massacre. 1956 – In Poznań, workers from HCP factory go to the streets, sparking one of the first major protests against communist government both in Poland and Europe. 1964 – Malcolm X forms the Organization of Afro-American Unity. 1969 – Stonewall riots begin in New York City, marking the start of the Gay Rights Movement. 1973 – Elections are held for the Northern Ireland Assembly, which will lead to power-sharing between unionists and nationalists in Northern Ireland for the first time. 1976 – The Angolan court sentences US and UK mercenaries to death sentences and prison terms in the Luanda Trial. 1978 – The United States Supreme Court, in Regents of the University of California v. Bakke bars quota systems in college admissions. 1981 – A powerful bomb explodes in Tehran, killing 73 officials of the Islamic Republican Party. 1982 – Aeroflot Flight 8641 crashes in Mazyr, Belarus, killing 132 people. 1987 – For the first time in military history, a civilian population is targeted for chemical attack when Iraqi warplanes bombed the Iranian town of Sardasht. 1989 – On the 600th anniversary of the Battle of Kosovo, Slobodan Milošević delivers the Gazimestan speech at the site of the historic battle. 1997 – Holyfield–Tyson II: Mike Tyson is disqualified in the third round for biting a piece off Evander Holyfield's ear. 2001 – Slobodan Milošević is extradited to the ICTY in The Hague to stand trial. 2004 – Iraq War: Sovereign power is handed to the interim government of Iraq by the Coalition Provisional Authority, ending the U.S.-led rule of that nation. 2009 – Honduran president Manuel Zelaya is ousted by a local military coup following a failed request to hold a referendum to rewrite the Honduran Constitution. This was the start of the 2009 Honduran constitutional crisis. 2016 – A terrorist attack in Turkey's Istanbul Atatürk Airport kills 42 people and injures more than 230 others.

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: The Devil Colony Audio Book CD A SIGMA Force Novel by James Rollins: NEW SEALED.

diavolo headcanons part two (bad edition)

-diavolo basically hasn’t interacted with anybody but doppio in over a decade when vento aureo takes place and it’s resulted in him having no idea how to hold a conversation. if you try to talk to him it’ll probably either result in you getting completely ignored, some rant/monologue about how he’s the ultimate god emperor of italy or being given a silent death glare for like fifteen seconds.

-diavolo is probably the type of guy to unironically call himself a “sigma male”

-he plays fortnite, but he refuses to play as any skin but rick from rick and morty and also sets up drug deals with the kids there (based off of a discord convo)

-diavolo likes standing idly in the corners of rooms for no reason. he just goes to a dark corner where the least amount of people are and stares off into space. (based off of me)

-he frequently forgets Trish’s name and had to have it written down in a notecard he kept in his pocket

-he has wasted multiple keyboards and other random objects because he keeps destroying them in fits of rage

-sometimes king crimson’s ability activates randomly while diavolo isn’t paying attention. that’s why i spend a few minutes mindlessly browsing the internet and look back at the clock and it’s 4 hours later

-he wastes like half of the mafia’s budget buying doppio random shit. one time doppio wanted to read warrior cats books so diavolo just dropped everything and bought him every single book in the entire series. (this is also why la squadra didn’t get paid enough)

-diavolo has no concept of a healthy sleep schedule whatsoever. he will stay up all night and then crash at 5 am in the morning regularly. in fact it was a struggle for him to wake up and get to the church where he was supposed to meet trish in time

-he feels the impulsive need to scream at any child he sees and it concerns everyone (he is staunchly anti-natalist and is also active on r/Childfree)

Recap on The Decay of Angels

Above, our introduction to the villains that have dominated the Bungou Stray Dogs manga for a few years as of now. It tells us two main things: that they are terrorist, and that they are five. Of them, two are known: Dostoevsky, already introduced in the previous arc, and Gogol, who debuts in this chapter.

As of chapter 88, all of the five members are known, and a few of these identities have been puzzling for the public at large. So, I want to try and recap what we know of them, and maybe make a little sense of it (spoiler, I didn't, but I found a few interesting facts).

We already met Fyodor in the Cannibalism arc, and gained an idea of who he is, how he operates, and what he wants. He's the leader of his own organization, but fights his battles mostly indirectly, by manipulating others into fighting for him.

He aims at destroying Yokohama to find the famed Book, the one to rewrite reality, for the purported reason if creating a better world, one without the 'sin' of ability users. Why he does think like that, or exactly what kind of different world he does envision, is unknown to this day.

Later, in chapter 56, we are shown the Decay of Angel's deeds, four in one week, which our resident nerd Kunikida explains are related to four of the five signs of the imminent death of an angel (or 'deva' in the Buddhist conception):

They skinned a legislator's torso, made a shirt with the result, and put it back on him, all in five minutes = the angel's robes are soiled.

They melted off the face of a deputy commander in the coast guard with a corrosive poison = the angel's garland melts away.

They stuck an air compressor in the mouth of the secretary of a general in the ministry of defense, causing his blood vessels to pop out = the angel's radiance fades.

Lastly, an official for the military police was injected a drug that caused him to kill himself = the angel's armpits start to sweat.

Moreover, they're suspected to have ties in the government; turns out, Gogol was cosplaying as a secretary in there.

He takes hostage a bunch of government officials, and threatens to saw them in two ("losing delight in their heavenly thrones")

The next chapters are dedicated to introducing Nikolai Gogol: an eccentric individual with a powerful ability and the most likely perpetrator of all the aforementioned crimes (since Fyodor was in jail at the time and, as we'll see shortly, the other members aren't particularly suited to these kinds of jobs).

However, he admits that he does feel guilt for what he does, and it's the reason he keeps doing it: he wants to free himself from the concept of morality, from his own conscience.

While this is a rather interesting philosophy, it doesn't expand much on why and how he joined the Decay of Angels. Was he a 'normal' person with particular ideas on morality that were brought to the extreme by the other members in order to make him useful, or was he already a murderer, and joined the Decay to have a wider choice of targets?

Boh. We'll only know quando Asagiri si decide a recuperare il suo arco porca pupazza with time. Still, the important part is that he doesn't seem to share Fyodor's objectives, nor does he say anything about the greater plan and his ideas on it. This is the first indicator that the Decay is a rather fragmented group, everyone is in for his own goals.

However, the last interesting thing is that the plan involved his own death: those in the Decay have no problems sacrificing their own members (even if I have a little theory that Fyodor might have planned for his survival, but I'll talk about it in another post).

Next, a wounded Taneda adds an information about the Decay of Angels: of the three members still in the dark, one has the ability to exchange knowledge he wants for information the person he touches wants. Namely, they're looking for a book, one that makes so that what is written on it becomes the truth - something already hinted by Fyodor. They managed to locate one page of it, and used it to frame the Armed Detective Agency to create a chaos and instigate a sort of Ability Civil War to destroy the city.

Their 'knowledge broker' is revealed to be Sigma; a reveal that is quite a surprise for the reader, since the manager of the Sky Casino has been introduced rigging a game to allow a person desperately in need of money to win; a very positive introduction, for a member of a 'murder association'. Later, it's revealed that he didn't even want to stab Taneda, only scare him off.

In fact, he hasn't even joined them because of some ideal: Fyodor found him when he had no past nor family nor anywhere to go, and offered him a place to belong in exchange for his services. When it turns out that his colleagues in the Decay have planned his demise (and two!) and Atsushi shows him kindness, he promptly cooperates with the Agency; or tries to, before one of Fyodor's lackeys shoots him.

It's also revealed that the group has created some explosive coins, released to the population at large to make some other acts of terrorism.

After some other shenanigans, we are introduced to their boss: Ouchi Fukuchi, officially the war hero who wants to save the world from the 'terrorists' known as the Armed Detective Agency by instituting an international police force.

Unofficially, a former torturer sanctioned by the government, traumatized by what he found himself doing. He wants to take down every nation, throwing the world into anarchy, because he believes countries and governments responsible for wars; and he also wants to stick it to his childhood friend who wasn't with him on the battlefield and got a found family he didn't have, and so framed him as the leader of the terrorists.

His actual plan was to terrorize the population and the government enough that they would gladly let him create an international armed force at his commands, which he would actually have used to break down the concept of 'State'.

Lastly, the fifth member: Bram Stoker. Another interesting case: like Sigma, he doesn't have any particular ideal that brought him to the group; on the contrary, he dislikes them. He used to be known as a calamity for his ability to turn others into vampires, and swore to never do such a thing again. He breaks this promise because Fukuchi threatened to kill him otherwise, and already keeps him in a state of prisony; personally, he has no interest in destroying the world, and thinks Fukuchi should do it himself. Considering that he interacts only with him, and doesn't keep track of the time well, I wonder if he even knows the other people in the organization.

Another interesting thing, is that he is the first British author to get introduced, except for Agatha Christie, who is hinted to be the leader of an organization of European Ability Users, but hasn't made an appearence since chapter 12/Dead Apple, and insofar hasn't had any impact on the plot. Maybe Stoker will be the element that brings the 'Order of the Clocktower' in?

Anyways, here they are: a group of people with vastly different goals and mindsets, ready to send each other to death and put dents into the others' plan (Sigma being ready to tell everything to Atsushi, Fyodor likely putting intentional mistakes in the Page he redacted to undermine Fukuchi).

Honestly ... it's amazing such a branco di disagiati group of people that want so wildly different things managed to last so long, let alone do this much damage. I mean ... how and why these people came together? What do they have in common?

To try and find answers, I did a little research.

First of all, the name 'Decay of Angels' comes, surprise surprise, from a book.

'The Decay of the Angel' by Yukio Mishima is the last novel in a tetralogy that follows the story of Shigekuni Honda, law student in the first novel and retired judge in the last, as he spends his whole life looking for the reincarnation of his deceased schoolfriend, finding them in people that seem to inevitably meet an early death, and ultimately destroys himself.

In the last installment, Honda decides that the reincarnation is an orphan, Toru, that behind a nice and normal facade hides antisocial tendencies. The interesting thing is that Honda notices them, but dismisses them as 'guile': what makes him decide that Toru isn't the reincarnation of his friend is the fact that he doesn't die on a certain date. And after all he had decided that he could be his friend after noticing a similar mole pattern; both very superficial things to originate and conclude such a fixation.

So what? I don't know.

Is a reference on how Fukuchi envied his childhood friend Fukuzawa for never dirtying his hands the way he had to do, and for having a found family, or a 'path in life', and decided to do a distorted version of such, with a few criminals and a plan to destroy the current order? Not sure.

Let's move to the artist, then!

Yukio Mishima was something of a conservative, and he strongly opposed the westernization of Japan, arguing that it left its people rootless. By this, I mean that he founded a private militia, the Tatenokai, composed of a bunch of students recruited with the newspaper, who until the 1970 did not much more than physical exercise and worship of the Emperor.

On the 25th of November 1970, however, Mishima plus four (!) of them briefly seized control of the Self Defense Force headquarters and tried to encourage the soldiers in a coup d'etat. They failed; Mishima and Masakatsu Morita, one of said four followers, committed suicide by seppuku, the latter despite his commander's wishes. The other three ended up in prison.

So, we have a strong believer in the traditional values of the State; quite the opposite of the 'anarchist' Fukuchi.

However, Mishima does not appear as a character, even if, since he was a writer, he could very well have. Instead, a bunch of appearently unrelated figures compose the terrorist group.

Fukuchi Genichirou was a translator, journalist, and playwriter. He, too, was a conservative: in his youth, he wrote an article criticizing the government and was subsequently arrested; he was released for the intercession of an influent friend, but this is remembered as the first episode of suppression of free speech in the Meiji Restauration.

He later founded a very short-lived political party that pursued the sovereignity of the Emperor, enforcement of a Constitution established by the Emperor and election among limited people. This party disbanded after one year.

Fyodor Dostoevsky is best known as a novelist, short story writer and journalist. He was also involved in politics: initially, he was interested in socialism, fluctuating among several groups due to an interest in social reforms in favor of destitute people.

The last group he joined (despite having been described by Bakunin as essentially a bunch of posers) got him convicted for reading papers that criticized the Russian government and religion, and nearly sentenced to death; the letter by the Tsar that commuted the sentence in prison and hard labour arrived just as the convicts were right in front of the firing squad, leaving them all free to enjoy this deeply traumatizing experience. He was considered one of the most dangerous prisoners (he read some books). Later in life, he moved towards more conservative beliefs (conservative for Russian standards: he criticized both socialism and capitalism, idealized the monarchy, and asserted that every social problem could be solved with Orthodox Christianity); but he didn't try to take an active role in politics.

Nikolai Gogol was a novelist, short story writer, and playwriter of Ukrainian origins. Despite costantly satirizing the government in his works, he was a strong supporter of the tsarist monarchy and criticized those who wanted a costitutional monarchy.

Fittingly for 'a character with no past', researching Sigma was a real pain. Shoutout to @gravitycantstop for pointing me in what is probably the right direction.

Sigma was a pseudonym of Russian journalist and writer Sergey Nikolaevich Syromyatnikov. Appearently, decent information about him is available only in Russian. Now, one day I'll speak every language in the world, but insofar my knowledge of Russian is limited to 'vodka' and 'syrniki', so I can't say much about him. If anyone who reads this speaks Russian and can provide information, please do so!

[Edit: thanks to @heydeliah , now we know about RL Sigma's political inclinations: he was a conservative who supported an authocratic monarchy, just like the above two]

Lastly, Bram Stoker: he had a keen interest in Irish Affairs, was a strong supporter of the Liberal Party, which favoured social reforms, personal liberty, and reducing the powers of both the Crown and the Church of England. He supported Home Rule brought about by pacifist means, was an ardent monarchist, and believed Ireland should stay in the British Empire, which he saw as a force for good.

So? I'm not sure what to make of all of this. The only thing I can say is that a bunch of real-life right-wingers has been turned into essentially a bunch of far left extremists? Sure, Stoker has been around for too little to express any ideology besides 'fanculo 'sta merda I want to sleep', and the lack of information on Sigma means that I can't make theories on him. But still, it's the closest thing I could find that binded them all together.

I admit I'm still unsure about what this could mean. Surely they weren't the only boomers ante litteram strongly conservative authors Asagiri could find, so ... I guess we have to wait and see? I literally made this post as I went, trying to find a common denominator, and this was all I could manage.

Anyways, I hope this can be somehow interesting.

Thanks to anyone who bothered to read my ramblings!

the empire deems you... sus

The Church of a Loving God - Eaters of the Dead

Genre: Horror

Word Count: 5,558

Synopsis: In the grim darkness of the far future, countless billions toil and suffer to keep the wheels of the imperial war machine turning. The God Emperor demands blind obedience and the only reward is a brutal death. In the dark corners of this world, among the teeming masses of humanity, Jocasta Theta will find something more; a life worth living, and a god worth believing in.

Content Notes: Cannibalism, Police Brutality

Author's Note: A massive thank you to daddyfuckinlonglegs for all their help and advice, and for motivating me to get back into writing. Jocasta's story will continue in chapter two, 'Love in a Dark Millennium'!

AO3 Link: The Church of a Loving God

The day started with bells. Jocasta opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling of the bunk house, counting the chimes. Three, four, five, then a raspy, mechanical voice crackled out from the vox caster.

“Theta shift, wake up. Theta shift, wake up. You have one hour before your work begins. Thought for the day; only in death is duty's debt repaid.”

There was a short hiss of static as the vox switched off. Jocasta lay in her bunk for a moment and tried not to think about the crushing heat. The ventilation system for her hab-block had been broken for a month; every night she prayed to the Emperor to send one of his red priests to fix it, and every morning she woke up drenched in sweat. No point dwelling on it though.

She got up and pulled her overalls out from under the bed. Her tiny section of the room was separated from the rest by a threadbare blanket hanging from a string, and as she got dressed she could hear the rustling of nineteen other people doing the same. They were all theta shift, but none of them were part of her work gang. She'd barely spoken to any of them in the three years she'd lived here.

Still, she thought as she pulled the blanket aside, there was no reason to be unfriendly. She gave a smile and a nod to each of them as she made her way to the door. Some of them smiled back. Some of them didn't. All of them looked tired.

The door was jammed, like it had been every morning since the ventilation broke, but it swung open after a few sharp kicks. Jocasta breathed deep as she stepped out into the cavernous, and relatively cool, expanse of transit tunnel forty-one. It was a vast, diagonal shaft formed of buttressed rockcrete walls lined with dozens of metal walkways, all of them bustling with people heading to, or from, their allocated workplace. The steeply sloping floor of the tunnel was covered by rails, along which cargo pallets were constantly moving, and the ceiling was festooned with pipes, cables, and dim, flickering glow-globes which cast the hubbub below in shades of orange and amber.

Jocasta was vaguely aware that there was a universe outside the tunnel – the mountainous hive-city of Gloriana Aeterna stretching up for miles above her, a planet outside, and thousands of planets beyond – but she would never see them. This tunnel, and the chambers branched off from it, had been her whole world since the day she was born. Her little corner of the imperium.

As she made her way down the walkway she scanned the crowd for familiar faces. Most days that search was fruitless, but this was a lucky day. Through the throngs of shuffling figures she spotted an unruly shock of blonde hair, and with a little pushing and shoving she got close enough to recognise the pale, lanky man it was attached to. Exactly who she'd been hoping to see. Surreptitiously she spat on her hand and dragged it through her short red hair; she'd once seen a pict-capture of noblewomen from the upper hive, all of them beautiful and all of them with their hair slicked back.

“Good morning Seth!” She fell into step beside her work mate, who looked down at her with a weary smile that made her heart beat a little quicker. “I'm so glad I caught you, did you hear what happened on sigma shift? Katra, from the market, told me all about it. Apparently the coreward grinder threw a gear just as the shift was ending, which isn't all that strange, happens all the time, but after the technomats pushed it back in they still couldn't get the whole thing spinning. So one of them says 'there must be something stuck in there, we'll just take the casing off and find it'. So then they did, and they saw what was jamming it, and guess what it was? Go on, guess! I'll give you three tries.”

Seth's brow furrowed. He looked up at the roof of the tunnel, his lips moving silently, then looked back down at Jocasta. “Okay, first guess... Was it a sump rat?”

Her mouth fell open. “You knew? That's not fair! You can't pretend to guess if you already knew!”

“I didn't know,” Seth said with a grin, “I just figured it out. There's not many things big enough to jam the grinder but small enough to come up through the pipes. Also I hear rats down there all the time.”

“Ooh, you're such a liar! You couldn't just 'figure that out'. You know I thought I could trust you, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe I'll have to find a new friend who doesn't try to cheat me.” She tried to look serious, but Seth put on such an exaggerated show of remorse that she couldn't help smiling.

“You really can't trust me any more? After everything we've been through? After everything I've done for you?”

She put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. “And what exactly have you done for me?”

“Well...” He leaned down until their heads were practically touching and lowered his voice to a whisper. Jocasta could hear her heart thumping in her chest. “...how about scrounging up something to eat on our break?. One of my bunk mates managed to find some meat. Some unprocessed meat. And since he owed me a favour, I got us a slice to share.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you joking?” she whispered. “You have to tell me if you're joking, you can't just say something like that and not mean it. And what do you mean he found it, anyway? Do you know what it came from? He didn't steal it, did he? Because if he stole it-”

A deafening burst of trumpets rang out from the vox pylons above them. As one, every worker stopped in their tracks. A moment later the cargo pallets below them shuddered to a halt. Silence, heavy and oppressive, settled over the tunnel. Jocasta stole a glance at Seth; he'd already closed his eyes and crossed his hands over his heart in the shape of the holy aquila. She shuffled a little closer to him and did the same.

“Citizens of Gloriana Aeterna.” The deep, sonorous voice came from every vox, in every direction. “Hear me, and give thanks. The God Emperor protects you, his faithful servants, for as long as you dedicate your lives and deaths to him. Through the might of his armies, he protects you. Through the swift justice of his arbites, he protects you. Through the diligence of his administrators, he protects you...”

The familiar litany washed over Jocasta. She's heard it so many times she could recite it backwards. Real meat, though... That was a special kind of gift. Silently, in her heart, she gave thanks for it.

***

It took another half an hour to descend to the ration processing plant. Down here the walls of the tunnel were studded with loading bays and access ports, and the air was thick with industrial smog. The two of them made their way through the murk, moving slowly and cautiously over corroded walkways and down rickety ladders, until they reached the entrance hatch for loading bay seven. Seth started coughing. He'd been doing that a lot recently.

Inside, the noise in the low-ceiling bay was almost painfully loud. Workers from Sigma shift were rushing to and fro, shouting instruction to each other as they tried to unload the last of their shipments. Enforcers holding crackling shock mauls and suppression shields prowled between them, reflective visors covering their faces. Heavy carts trundled over the metal floor grates with their axles squealing, and over it all was the roar of the spinning grinders at the far end of the bay.

The men and women of theta shift were huddled against one wall, staying out of the way until their time came, but between them and the access hatch was an armoured security booth. Jocasta walked up to the mesh grill at the front of the booth and smiled at the grim-faced watchman behind it.

“Jocasta Theta, reporting for shift.”

The man grunted and peered down at his data-slate until he found her name, then pressed his thumb against the screen. He reached down under the desk to pull out two rectangular metal tins, each the size of Jocasta's palm, and slid them through the gap at the bottom of the grill.

“Two ration packs, corpse-starch. No eating between breaks. No hoarding. No trading. Return the tins at the end of your shift. Do you understand?”

The enforcer had said the same words to her every morning for the last three years, and she'd given the same response. “Yes sir, I understand. May the Emperor protect you.”

“And you. Move along.”

Jocasta put her rations in her pocket and went to join the rest of her shift, leaving Seth to report in behind her. She knew almost all of her co-workers by name, even if she hadn't had a chance to get to know most of them, but today there was an unfamiliar face. A man... No, a boy, probably on his first work assignment. Maybe four of five years younger than her? Not even old enough to shave. He looked every bit as scared as Jocasta had been when she started at the plant, and she decided that he needed a friend.

“Hey there kid, welcome to loading bay seven! You're new, aren't you? Please say you're new, if you've been here for a while I'll be so embarrassed. My name's Jocasta. What's yours?”

“Uh...” The boy hesitated, looking down at the floor. “My name is Lansan. It's nice to meet you.” His voice was so quiet she could barely hear him over the noise.

“Well it's very nice to meet you too, Lansan. I guess this is the first place you've worked? Well don't worry about that, we'll show you the ropes in no time. Which section are you assigned to?”

“Um, I think they said I'd be unloading the pallets?”

Jocasta kept smiling, but her heart sank. “Oh, so you'll be working with me! That's good. Did they say who you're replacing?” She already knew the answer.

“Yes, they said the last person got reallocated to a manufactorum on the upper levels. His name was Dillan?”

“Gillan. His name was Gillan.” Jocasta struggled to keep her voice level. Gillan had been nearly forty, with a limp he couldn't hide any more. No manufactorum would have taken him.

She tried to think of something to say, but before she had a chance the bell rang to signal the shift change. The exhausted workers of sigma shift put down their tools and started filing towards the exit, and theta shift moved quickly to take their place. Jocasta walked towards the wide metal shutter on the tunnel side wall, still thinking about Gillan, wishing Lansan wasn't following quite so close behind her. She wanted time to think, but the shutters were already opening to accept the first delivery of the day. She'd just have to wait until the shift was over.

“Alright Lansan, this is the start of the chain. The cargo comes in through here, we jump onto the pallet, then we throw it over so it can be loaded onto the carts. After that it goes through the grinders and onto second stage processing, but you don't need to worry about that bit. Do you have a handkerchief? That's good, tie it around your face. It'll help with the smell. Grab yourself some gloves from the rack, try and get a pair without any holes in them. Let's see... You know how to lift, right? Knees bent, back straight?”

The boy nodded, pulling his gloves on, and she did the same. With a familiar shriek of metal on metal a wide platform rolled into view down the tunnel and pivoted into the loading bay, coming to a halt a couple of feet away from the edge of the floor. Lansan went pale as the smell hit them; the platform was piled high with corpses, collected from all the middle and lower levels of the city. Jocasta saw his expression and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Try to think of it as cargo, rather than people. The city needs to eat. Just be careful when you jump across, you don't want to fall into the pipes.”

He nodded slowly, but she could see his hands trembling. There was nothing more she could do for him except lead by example, so she jumped across to the platform and started pulling a body off the top of the pile. Lansan joined her, gingerly picking up the corpse by the shoulders as Jocasta lifted its ankles. Under her direction they carried it to the edge of the pallet, gave it a couple of swings, then threw it across the gap to where a couple of carters were waiting to load it.

“So, Lansan, how far up do you live?” She was hoping to take his mind off the task at hand, if only so he'd stop being so squeamish.

“Um, about forty minutes walk? We're a couple of levels down from the market.”

“You're not that far above me then! Oh, and you said 'we', does that mean you're still living with your family?” The boy just nodded. “You're lucky. My parents got moved to tunnel thirty-six just after I started working here. Haven't seen them for years.”

“I'm sorry, that must be hard. Not knowing...” He paused for a moment to find his footing as they picked up a particularly heavy body. “Not even knowing if they're still alive, I mean.”

Jocasta found herself lost for words for a moment, and almost slipped on a bloated hand. She wanted to believe the kid didn't mean any harm, but surely he was old enough to know better? Either way, there was only way to respond. “Well if they're dead, I'm sure they died serving the Emperor. You can't ask for anything more than that.” She had to force the words out. You never knew who was listening.

“Oh, yes, of course. I didn't mean... I was just thinking, I don't know what I'd do if my parents got reassigned. I guess they'd move me to a smaller bunk, but I've never lived alone before. Did you ever... Urgh!”

The boy recoiled and fell backwards as the arm he was holding came away from the shoulder with a wet slurping sound. Jocasta dropped her end of the body, leaving it on the edge of the platform, and walked quickly over to him.

“Listen, Lansan,” she whispered as she helped him up. “I need you to be a little tougher, okay? The guards here don't care that you're young, or that it's your first day. If they don't think you can work, you'll get moved somewhere else. Somewhere worse, on the lower levels. Your parents wouldn't want that for you, so just...”

Too late, she saw his gaze move down to the corpse behind her. By the time she turned round it was already slipping over the side of the platform, down into the pipes, and she could only stand there as it disappeared from view. A moment later there was a crash, then a distant, wet thud. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew what was coming.

“Worker!” The shout cut through the noise of the loading bay. Jocasta opened her eyes again and fixed her gaze on the floor; she could hear the heavy footsteps of the enforcer walking towards her. A quick glance at Lansan confirmed he was keeping his head down as well. At least his parents had taught him that much.

“Wasting the city's food is a crime. Which one of you is responsible?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lansan opening his mouth, but she was quicker. “It was me, sir. I wasn't paying attention. I'm very sorry, it won't happen again, I...”

“Step off the platform.” The man sounded more bored than angry. Jocasta jumped across to the loading bay and turned to face him, making sure not to look him in the visor. “You have your rations for the day?” She nodded. “Give me one of them.” She fished the tin out of her pocket and the man snatched it out of her hand. He opened it, checked the contents, and dropped it into a pouch on his belt.

It was a lighter punishment than she'd expected. She let herself relax a little. “Thank you sir. Permission to get back to-”

Without warning the enforcer swung his shock maul into Jocasta's stomach. It wasn't a hard hit. It didn't need to be. Her world went dark, then brilliant white flashes danced across her vision. All she could hear was a snapping, crunching sound that seemed to come from every direction at once.

It only lasted for a moment, and when her vision returned she was lying on the ground at the enforcer's feet. She tried to stop herself trembling, but she couldn't. Across the bay she could see Seth staring at her. He looked scared.

The man leaned down to speak to her, his boot inches away from her face. “You're going to go down to the pipes during the first break and retrieve that corpse. You will not be late. You will not return empty-handed. Do you understand?” She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out but a dry wheeze. He seemed to take that as confirmation. “Get back to work then. No more mistakes.”

As he walked away Jocasta, still shaking, got back on her feet. The hot, raw pain was starting to spread through her stomach, and she knew from experience it was going to get worse before it got better. It would make the next few hours of work agonizing. And then the pipes... People died down there. She could die down there. All because she'd been too busy trying to help the new kid...

“Um... Jocasta?”

She turned to look at Lansan. There were tears on his cheeks. He looked ashamed.

“I can help, if you want. I can go down to the pipes with you.”

For an awful moment, she thought about saying yes. Maybe the two of them would have a better chance of getting out alive. Or maybe she could run faster than him... She put the idea out of her mind. “Thanks, but I'll be fine.” Her voice was still little more than a croak. “It was only a small one, and it's already missing an arm. I can carry it just fine by myself.”

“But, maybe, I could protect you? Kind of, watch your back?”

Jocasta gave the boy the best smile she could manage. “The Emperor protects.”

***

The area under the ration processing plant was a tangled web of tunnels, pipes, junctions and crawl spaces. Bundles of cables wove through narrow corridors, linking together rusted, humming machines that only the red priests truly understood. Everywhere there was the dripping of oil, grease and other, more organic fluids from the plant above. The lights were so faint that they were little more than stars to navigate by, if they worked at all. The only people who came down here were maintenance teams, and they never made the descent without armed guards. The rats were always watching and always hungry.

Jocasta had no guards, and no weapons except a wrench that Seth had slipped into her pocket as he'd wished her good luck. The enforcers had let her take a lantern at least. The weak, yellow light only reached a few paces away from her. Beyond that there was darkness.

She'd been slow and careful at first, trying to stay quiet, freezing every time she heard something skittering through the gloom, but the morning break was only half an hour long and she knew how much worse things would be if she was late. As she went deeper into the maze she started to move faster, gripping the wrench tightly and hoping her reactions would be quick enough if something jumped out at her.

She walked through one dank, humid corridor after another, rushing down steep ramps and squeezing through air ducts, doubling back on herself whenever she reached a dead end or locked hatch. After a while her pace slowed. Every time she passed a turning she paused, trying to picture where she was in relation to the loading by above her, before choosing a path and continuing.

Eventually she reached a junction and had to stop. There was an opening leading down to her left, but surely the wall of the transit tunnel should be there? And if it wasn't, did that mean she was farther away from it than she'd thought, or had she gone so low that she was underneath it? How long had it been since the break started? She didn't have a chrono. Maybe it had been ten minutes, maybe fifteen. Maybe she'd never find the body, or the rats would find her first. She could hear them, scuttling through the gloom. They sounded like they were getting closer.

She leant against the wall and set the lantern down on the ground. Her hands were trembling. She tried to get her breathing under control, but she couldn't.

Gillan was dead. She knew he was. People didn't just stop working when they had a family to feed, even if they were ill. Perhaps he was just too sick or too badly injured to get to the plant, but the end result was the same. The weak didn't survive for long. Yesterday she'd teased him for the silly little moustache he'd started growing; she'd said it made him look like an old man. That was the last thing she'd said to him, and now he was gone.

Her shoulders started shaking. She wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve, then squeezed hard on the metal handle of the wrench. She didn't have time to cry. Somewhere up there Seth was waiting for her. All she had to do was find the body, and then she'd find her way back to him. They'd share good food, and gossip about their shift mates, and then she could tell him how much he meant to her and hope that he felt the same...

She heard it before she saw it; the click, click, click of claws on metal. She swore under her breath. If she hadn't been so wrapped up in her own head... No, there was no time for anger. Slowly, she bent down to pick up the lantern. Her hand trembled as she raised it. There were pale, milky eyes gleaming in the dark of the corridor behind her. Three, no, maybe four creatures, though she couldn't be sure. She'd seen dead sump rats before, and no two of them had the same number of eyes.

Keeping her eyes on the crawling shadows, Jocasta started to back away. One step, two steps, and then, from behind her, she heard a low hiss. Her heart jumped into her mouth. She froze, trying to work out how far away the rat behind her was; it sounded close. A few paces, maybe.

The wrench in her hand was slippery with sweat. She tried to adjust her grip. If she could turn quickly and get in a good swing... But there wouldn't just be one, would there? They never hunted alone. Running was the only option, and out of the corner of her eye she could see the side tunnel that had confused her a moment ago. She still had no idea where it went, but it didn't matter.

Jocasta bolted forwards, ducking through the doorway as a screech went up from the rats. She sprinted down the narrow corridor, leaping over gaps in the floor grating, racing around the sharp turns and sudden twists of the tunnel. The rats were close behind her but she couldn't look back. She couldn't hold the lantern steady, and it took all of her concentration just to stay on her feet in the flickering light.

She ran on, her heart pounding, desperately, frantically looking for some way of escaping her pursuers; their shrill chittering echoed from the pipes around her. Suddenly, through the enveloping gloom, she saw a metal hatch up ahead. She darted through it, slamming her weight against the door, the rusty hinges screeching as she forced it closed. From beyond she heard the rats scratching and clawing at the metal, throwing themselves against it in a frenzy... and then, the sound faded. Listening hard, she could make out the clanking of loose grating beneath their feet, the noise getting quieter and quieter as they abandoned the chase and moved on. Gasping for air, she slid down the door and sat against it.

She was alive.

As the adrenaline receded, she realised she was in a junction room larger than any she'd found before. She couldn't tell exactly how large; the light didn't reach the far wall. What she did see, lying on the metal floor surrounded by broken ceiling panels, was the corpse. For a moment she just stared at it, uncomprehending. She was lost. She'd run for her life. How could it be right in front of her?

Slowly she climbed back onto her feet, walked up to the body, and knelt down beside it. It had taken a beating during the fall, but aside from the missing arm it was still intact. Now all she needed to do was carry it back up to the surface. But that was impossible. The rats wouldn't have gone far. She couldn't outrun them with that much dead weight on her shoulders. She was going to die. Unless... Unless there was another way out of here.

No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than she noticed a faint, pale light from up ahead of her. It didn't look like the flame of a lantern, or the glow of the electric lights that lined the halls of the hive city. It was softer. Gentler. She stood up and started moving towards it.

As she walked forwards the air seemed to shimmer. Motes of light danced around her, swirling in a breeze that she couldn't feel. The space was larger than she'd imagined, and even as the body disappeared from view behind her she still couldn't see the far wall. As she got closer to the glow she saw it was coming from a human shape on the floor; to her surprise she realised it was another, much older corpse. She'd never seen one so decayed before.

The thing that drew her eye though, and the source of the light, was the fungus. It sprouted from every part of the body, pushing through the blackened skin in strangely shaped clusters, not just one type but a myriad of different shapes. There were varieties she'd only ever heard about, and some that were completely alien to her. Fragile looking spheres on delicate stalks, glistening jellies that had eaten deep into the remains of their host, mushrooms of every shape and size. And the colours! She'd thought that all fungi were pale grey, but these were a riot of blues, oranges, pinks and browns, all of them glowing softly in the gloom. It was beautiful.

She stepped forward, holding the lantern as close as she dared. There was a rich, warm aroma rising from the corpse, so strong that she felt light-headed. As she leaned over it she realised there was a pattern hidden in the light. Everywhere she looked, the fungi had formed itself into circles. The motif was repeated across the entire body. Circles overlapping each other, circles within circles, and in the centre of the chest three thick, conjoined circles of bright green mould. They'd grown so that each circle was linked to the other two to form a triangle.

There was something more, though. Something in the centre of the pattern that she couldn't quite make out. She leaned over the body, holding the lantern closer, straining to see what was hidden there... And then her foot slipped. Before she could think her hand jerked forwards to break her fall, and with a wet, sickening squelch it hit the mould and sank into it, the desiccated body's chest cracking and collapsing under her weight.

The smell of rot and death washed over her. She scrambled to her feet and reeled back in disgust, desperately shaking the spongy, stinking slop from her hand. It clung to her skin like glue; she couldn't bare to look at it. She dropped the lantern and pulled out her handkerchief, scrubbing at her arm frantically until it was free of the muck, and then stood there, panting, over the body.

Reluctantly, Jocasta looked at her hand. It was still streaked with grime and dotted with luminescent spores, but she'd done the best she could. The handkerchief was sodden; she threw it aside, then closed her eyes.

“God Emperor, please... Please don't let me get sick. Please show me a way back up. Please let me live, just a little longer.”

She whispered the words into the dark. There was no reply.

It wasn't until she opened her eyes and bent to pick up the lantern that she heard it. The familiar click, click, click, and then a low hiss. The rats had found their way in.

Her whole body went stiff. This was it, she realised. She didn't know where she was. There might not be another way out of this room, and even if there was she wouldn't find it before they caught up to her. All she could do was die fighting; a stupid, pointless death.

She turned and saw the rats at the edge of the lantern's light. Lumpy, misshapen creatures with bony spines and tumorous growths sprouting from their backs. She counted seven of them, each of them as big as a hound and staring at her with murderous hunger. Slowly she reached into her pocket and pulled out the wrench, then stepped forwards to meet them...

And the rats backed away.

She paused. Was this some kind of trap? Were they waiting for her to leave the light? She took another step forwards. One of the rats hissed at her, then turned and scurried into the dark. The others edged backwards.

Jocasta took a deep breath and walked forwards until the lantern's pool of light was behind her. With every step the rats retreated, some of them squeaking and scuttling to the corners of the room. It was as if they were scared. She just stared after them, dumbfounded. But then, she'd asked the Emperor for help, hadn't she? And this... this was a miracle.

For a long moment she stood there, in the dark, trying to think of any other explanation. The rats could have killed her easily. She'd heard of them attacking armed groups when they were hungry enough, and these ones had looked very hungry. Just a few minutes ago they'd been chasing her down. And now suddenly they were scared of her.

No, that wasn't right, was it? They were scared of that old corpse, or the fungus. If they weren't then the whole thing would have been eaten long ago. The rats would eat anything, animal or vegetable, no matter how rotten it was. And if it wasn't the rot, or the fungus, then what else could have stopped them if not the Emperor's protection? And now that protection was on her.

There was one way to be sure. She went back and retrieved the lantern, humming a hymn under her breath, and then picked up the sodden handkerchief. She walked across the room until she saw the last few rats prowling at the edge of the light and threw the rag at them as hard as she could. Before it had even landed the creatures scattered, shrieking in panic.

Jocasta couldn't help but laugh. This was amazing! She'd seen a real miracle, right there in front of her! The body must be some kind of holy relic, hidden down here for who knows how long, and she was the one who'd found it. She wondered if Seth would believe her. In the stories, miracles only happened to holy warriors and saints... Maybe she wouldn't tell him right away. It would be her secret, at least for now.

Sighing, she realised she had more immediate concerns. It would take time to find her way back up to the plant. At least now she wouldn't have to worry about the rats though. She went back to where the ceiling was broken, hoisted the body onto her shoulders, then set off to retrace her steps. As she left, the light in the junction room faded. The sound of her footsteps died away. All that was left was silence, and the soft glow of the fungus, and the clouds of spores that danced through the air without any wind to move them.

CHARLES’S  POST - CANON

     Maybe  a  hot  Virginia  summer  will  save  him.  Charles  thinks  that   everything  will  go  back  to  the  way  it  was  once  he  has  been  baptised  by  the  early  setting  sun  bleeding  fiery  orange  into  the  sky,  laying  in  his  childhood  bed  with  the  windows  open  wide,  listening  to  crickets  hum  up  at  the  stars  shaped  like  lightning  bugs  as  the  taste  of  a  cool  breeze  makes  the  weeping  willows  shiver.  It  does  heal  him,  in  a  way.  His  brain  rots  in  the  sweltering  afternoons  spent  sitting  on  the  front  porch,  drinking  what  Nana  thinks  is  sweet  tea.  He  struggles  to  read  anything ;  his  mind  won’t  focus  on  it.  Still,  he  makes  it  through  Der  Zauberberg.  Etas  and  sigmas  smell  putrid,  the  memories  of  the  year  still  rotting  in  his  mind.  He  lays  awake  for  hours  at  night,  half - drunk  and  half - sober,  watching  the  shadows  of  his  bedroom  move  and  shift  whenever  he  looks  away.  Henry  watches  him  sleep.  Charles  goes  to  sleep  sober  the  next  night.  He  dreams  of  Henry  trying  to  murder  him  and  he  wakes  up  with  bruises  around  his  throat.  He  drinks  until  he  blacks  out  and  sleeps  fine.

     “Camilla’s  coming  home!”  Nana  tells  him,  trying  not  to  frown  as  he  pours  himself  another  glass  of  bourbon.

     “That  reminds  me,  I’m  going  to  stay  with  Francis  for  a  while.”

     “When  did  you  decide  this?”

     They  hadn’t.  “Not  too  long  ago.”

     “Chaz,”  says  Nana,  her  wrinkled  face  setting  into  scrutiny.  “Did  something  happen  with  you  and  Camilla?”

     “No.”

      Harvard  accepts  his  late  application  with  a  passive - aggressive  acceptance  letter.  It’s  an  excuse  to  get  away,  but  he  loathes  every  moment  of  it.  The  fluorescent  lights  of  academic  institution  burn  his  skin  like  holy  water,  and  coming  home  to  see  Francis  everyday  drags  him  back  deep  into  a  past  he  fears  he  will  never  be  able  to  live  without.  The  professors  are  plain  and  rudimentary.  Charles  never  does  any  homework,  but  passes  each  exam  with  ease.  They  say  that  they  will  fail  him  for  his  poor  attitude.  He  wakes  up  in  the  hospital  one  day  with  his  throat  burning  and  his  stomach  growling  and  empty.  The  doctors  implore  him  to  be  rehabilitated.  Francis  has  looked  upon  him  with  love  and  with  hatred  and  fear  and  concern,  but  now  he  looks  at  him  with  pity,  and  Charles  cannot  tolerate  it. 

      “Don’t  you  want  to  get  better?”

      “I  don’t  think  I  can,  Francis.”  It’s  snowing  outside.  Charles  is  burrowed  beneath  Francis’s  black  duster,  trying  to  breath  in  old  memories.

      Francis  lights  a  cigarette  and  tosses  the  match  out  beneath  a  no  smoking  sign.  “You  aren’t  going  to  know  if  you  don’t  give  it  a  chance.”

     Charles  sighs  mildly  and  glances  out  of  the  frosted  window.  “Don’t  tell  Nana.”

     The  place  is  called  Happy  Springs  or  Forest  Springs  or  Tranquil  Springs.  Something  Springs.  It  reminds  him  of  Hampden  in  some  ways,  all  brick  and  mortar  cottages  and  big  stone  buildings  out  in  the  woods.  It  reminds  him  of  home,  too.  Warm,  yellow  lanterns,  quiet  willows  with  tufts  of  yellow  pollen  on  their  tendrils,  and  the  soft  sound  of  water  running.  It  might  have  been  peaceful,  but  he  thinks  back  to  Der  Zauberberg,  and  he  starts  counting  his  teeth.  He  starts  to  detox,  and,  at  night,  he  can  see  a  man  standing  at  the  treeline  of  the  woods,  the  starlight  captured  something  long  and  white  he  wears.

     Charles’s  psychiatrist  is  an  old  man  with  a  beard  and  thick  glasses.  He  has  a  house  in  Vancouver.  Charles  tells  him  about  bizarre  sexual  fantasies  he  has  for  his  sister,  and  the  paranoia  that  she  might  remember  more  of  their  parents  than  he  does,  and  that  their  sibling  rivalry  makes  him  want  to  kill  her  sometimes.  He  talks  about  his  feelings,  or  the  lack  thereof,  for  Francis,  and  talks  about  the  death  of  his  best  friend  Bunny,  that  the  guilt  of  not  being  there  for  him  crushes  him,  that  he  wishes  there  was  something  he  could  have  done,  that  he  feels  responsible,  that  he  killed  him,  that  Henry  haunts  him  constantly,  that  he  was  the  one  who  drove  Henry  to  suicide,  that  Charles  can’t  remember  the  last  time  he  was  truly  happy,  that  nothing  has  ever  made  him  happy,  that  everything  makes  him  unhappy.  

     “What  about  me?”

     “What  about  you,  Charles?  You  didn’t  kill  Bunny,  you  couldn’t  control  that.  It  isn’t  your  fault.  You’re  going  to  be  fine.”

      “I  don’t  think  I  am,”  Charles  mumbles.

     “Let’s  talk  about  your  sister.”

     Charles  calls  Francis  one  night  and  asks  him  to  come  pick  me  up  please,  the  treatment  isn’t  working.  He  starts  working  at  a  jazz  bar  playing  piano.  The  chandeliers  struggle  to  glisten  in  spite  of  all  the  cigarette  smoke,  and  the  piano  is  stained  with  round  water  marks  and  the  etchings  of  souls  long  gone.  The  mirror  behind  the  bar  is  disorienting.  Occasionally,  a  waiter  will  set  a  glass  of  bourbon  or  a  vodka  tonic  next  to  Charles,  and  he  smiles  and  asks  what  it’s  for.  The  waiter  shrugs  and  says  some  man  bought  it  for  him.  The  smile  falls  from  Charles’s  face  and  the  hair  on  the  back  of  his  neck  rises.  He  never  touches  those  drinks.  He  stays  late  one  night  to  play  Beethoven’s  Emperor  Piano  Concerto  for  himself,  and  on  the  walk  home,  he  buys  a  few  grams  of  heroin.

     Charles  wakes  up  one  day  to  Francis  jostling  him  awake.  His  breath  had  escaped  him,  and  pain  seized  the  right  side  of  his  chest.  Francis  tells  him  he  has  a  panic  attack,  and  Charles  believes  him  until  he  starts  coughing  wetly,  blood  spattering  on  his  hands.  

     “Alright,  get  up.”

     “What  for?”

     “Charles,  you  have  to  go  to  the  hospital.”

     “Please,  don’t  make  me,  I  don’t  want  to  go.”  He  pulls  the  sleeve  of  his  shirt  down,  turning  his  wrist  over.  Francis  has  that  look  in  his  eyes  again.  Charles  shouldn’t  be  surprised  that  Francis  has  a  copy  of  the  Oxford  Handbook of  Clinical  Diagnosis,  but  he  goes  to  fetch  at  drops  it  on  the  bed.  It’s  dusty,  but  not  unloved  or  unused.  It  is  a  tome,  a  holy  book  of  Francis’s  hypochondria,  and  he  flips  through  it  with  a  certain  reverence.  They  go  through  each  one  of  his  symptoms  with  painstaking  thoroughness,  looking  at  his  feet  and  his  hands  and  his  eyes  and  tongue.  Charles  thinks  Francis  is  having  fun  right  until  the  very  end.

     “What  is  it?  Am  I  going  to  live?”  He  teases.  Francis’s  face  has  gone  stoic.

     “Charles,  I  really  think  you  should  go  to  a  hospital.”

     “It  can’t  be  that  bad.  Just  tell  me.”

     “I  really --”

     “Francis,  please!”

     The  tome  shuts  with  a  loud  thump,  a  church  bell  tolling.  “Congestive  heart  failure.”

     The  nightmares  about  Henry  get  worse,  and  Charles  often  wakes  up  in  a  puddle  of  his  own  blood.  Francis  tells  him  to  go  to  the  E.R  or  get  out.  Charles  plays  at  the  bar  until  late  at  night  and  then  retires  to  the  annex  between  floors,  where  the  storage  room  holds  decorations  and  a  big  safe  with  legal  papers  and  proofs.  Dust  circulates  through  the  low  ceiling  like  snow.  Outside,  the  icicles  melt  as  spring  comes.  It  makes  Charles  sick  to  his  stomach.  He  steals  alcohol  from  the  bar  downstairs  to  quell  his  nausea,  to  quell  it  all.  He  can  feel  himself  getting  worse  and  worse,  to  the  point  where  standing  up  from  his  cot  of  packing  peanuts  and  sweaters  fatigues  him.  Non  Piangere  Liu  from  Manon  Lescaut  repeats  in  his  mind  over  and  over  again  until  he  can  no  longer  hear  it.  Henry  tells  him  something,  and  rests  a  lukewarm  hand  on  his  cheek  with  fraternity.  Charles  coughs  and  it  jostles  the  needle  from  where  it  is  poised  against  his  grey  and  discoloured  flesh.  One  more,  just  one  more.  Charles  needs  one  more  and  then  he’s  done  for  good.  He’ll  be  clean  this  time.  He’ll  be  good  this  time.  The  tile  of  the  bathroom  floor  is  cool  on  his  burning  body.  Charles  doesn’t  feel  the  warm  liquid  seep  into  his  bloodstream,  but,  through  blurred  eyes  he  watches  the  syringe  fills  with  blood.

     “Jeez,  who  is  that  guy?”

     “Dunno.”

     “What  happened?”

     “We  found  a  body.  O.D’d,  I  guess.”

     “Did  you  call  the  cops?”

     “What  for?”  The  body  is  slumped  against  the  back  wall,  face  bloated  and  pallid  with  dark  veins  cutting  through  the  flesh,  eyes  shut  and  mouth  fallen  open,  and  the  face  belongs  to  some  young  twenty -,  twenty - one-,  twenty - two - year - old  boy,  dried  blood  smearing  his  face.  Moths  fly  above  his  head,  twitching  in  and  out  of  the  lightbulb  that  hangs  over  him  like  a  halo.  One  of  the  boys  kneels  down  and  studies  the  body’s  face  earnestly.  Another  one  stares,  wide - eyed.  One  jabs  the  corpse  in  the  stomach  with  his  foot.

     “Did  you  check  if  he’s  dead?”

     “Do  you  see  him  moving?”

     “Look  at  that ;  no  socks.”

TERMINOLOGY OF THE IMPERIUM (A-D)

A ABA: loose robe worn by Fremen women; usually black. ACH: left turn: a worm steersman’s call. ADAB: the demanding memory that comes upon you of itself. AKARSO: a plant native to Sikun (of 70 Ophiuchi A) characterized by almost oblong leaves. Its green and white stripes indicate the constant multiple condition of parallel active and dormant chlorophyll regions. ALAM AL-MITHAL: the mystical world of similitudes where all physical limitations are removed. AL-LAT: mankind’s original sun; by usage: any planet’s primary. AMPOLIROS: the legendary “Flying Dutchman” of space. AMTAL or AMTAL RULE: a common rule on primitive worlds under which something is tested to determine its limits or defects. Commonly: testing to destruction. AQL: the test of reason. Originally, the “Seven Mystic Questions” beginning: “Who is it that thinks?” ARRAKEEN: first settlement on Arrakis; long-time seat of planetary government. ARRAKIS: the planet known as Dune; third planet of Canopus. ASSASSINS’ HANDBOOK: Third-century compilation of poisons commonly used in a War of Assassins. Later expanded to include those deadly devices permitted under the Guild Peace and Great Convention. AULIYA: In the Zensunni Wanderers’ religion, the female at the left hand of God; God’s handmaiden. AUMAS: poison administered in food. (Specifically: poison in solid food.) In some dialects: Chaumas. AYAT: the signs of life. (See Burhan.) B BAKKA: in Fremen legend, the weeper who mourns for all mankind. BAKLAWA: a heavy pastry made with date syrup. BALISET: a nine-stringed musical instrument, lineal descendant of the zithra, tuned to the Chusuk scale and played by strumming. Favorite instrument of Imperial troubadors. BARADYE PISTOL: a static-charge dust gun developed on Arrakis for laying down a large dye marker area on sand. BARAKA: a living holy man of magical powers. BASHAR (often Colonel Bashar): an officer of the Sardaukar a fractional point above Colonel in the standardized military classification. Rank created for military ruler of a planetary subdistrict. (Bashar of the Corps is a title reserved strictly for military use.) BATTLE LANGUAGE: any special language of restricted etymology developed for clear-speech communication in warfare. BEDWINE: see Ichwan Bedwine. BELA TEGEUSE: fifth planet of Kuentsing: third stopping place of the Zensunni (Fremen) forced migration. BENE GESSERIT: the ancient school of mental and physical training established primarily for female students after the Butlerian Jihad destroyed the so-called “thinking machines” and robots. B.G.: idiomatic for Bene Gesserit except when used with a date. With a date it signifies Before Guild and identifies the Imperial dating system based on the genesis of the Spacing Guild’s monopoly. BHOTANI JIB: see Chakobsa. BI-LA KAIFA: Amen. (Literally: “Nothing further need be explained.”) BINDU: relating to the human nervous system, especially to nerve training. Often expressed as Bindu-nervature. (See Prana.) BINDU SUSPENSION: a special form of catalepsis, self-induced. BLED: flat, open desert. BOURKA: insulated mantle worn by Fremen in the open desert. BURHAN: the proofs of life. (Commonly: the ayat and burhan of life. See Ayat.) BURSEG: a commanding general of the Sardaukar. BUTLERIAN JIHAD: see Jihad, Butlerian (also Great Revolt). C CAID: Sardaukar officer rank given to a military official whose duties call mostly for dealings with civilians; a military governorship over a full planetary district; above the rank of Bashar but not equal to a Burseg. CALADAN: third planet of Delta Pavonis; birthworld of Paul-Muad’Dib. CANTO and RESPONDU: an invocation rite, part of the panoplia propheticus of the Missionaria Protectiva. CARRYALL: a flying wing (commonly “wing”), the aerial workhorse of Arrakis, used to transport large spice mining, hunting, and refining equipment. CATCHPOCKET: any stillsuit pocket where filtered water is caught and stored. CHAKOBSA: the so-called “magnetic language” derived in part from the ancient Bhotani (Bhotani Jib—jib meaning dialect). A collection of ancient dialects modified by needs of secrecy, but chiefly the hunting language of the Bhotani, the hired assassins of the first Wars of Assassins. CHAUMAS: (Aumas in some dialects): poison in solid food as distinguished from poison administered in some other way. CHAUMURKY (Musky or Murky in some dialects): poison administered in a drink. CHEOPS: pyramid chess; nine-level chess with the double object of putting your queen at the apex and the opponent’s king in check. CHEREM: a brotherhood of hate (usually for revenge). CHOAM: acronym for Combine Honnete Ober Advancer y Mercantiles—the universal development corporation controlled by the Emperor and Great Houses with the Guild and Bene Gesserit as silent partners. CHUSUK: fourth planet of Theta y Shalish; the so-called “Music Planet” noted for the quality of its musical instruments. (See Varota.) CIELAGO: any modified Chiroptera of Arrakis adapted to carry distrans messages. CONE OF SILENCE: the field of a distorter that limits the carrying power of the voice or any other vibrator by damping the vibrations with an image-vibration 180 degrees out of phase. CORIOLIS STORM: any major sandstorm on Arrakis where winds across the open flatlands are amplified by the planet’s own revolutionary motion to reach speeds up to 700 kilometers per hour. CORRIN, BATTLE OF: the space battle from which the Imperial House Corrino took its name. The battle fought near Sigma Draconis in the year 88 B.G. settled the ascendancy of the ruling House from Salusa Secundus. COUSINES: blood relations beyond cousins. CRUSHERS: military space vessels composed of many smaller vessels locked together and designed to fall on an enemy position, crushing it. CRYSKNIFE: the sacred knife of the Fremen on Arrakis. It is manufactured in two forms from teeth taken from dead sandworms. The two forms are “fixed” and “unfixed.” An unfixed knife requires proximity to a human body’s electrical field to prevent disintegration. Fixed knives are treated for storage. All are about 20 centimeters long. CUTTERAY: short-range version of lasgun used mostly as a cutting tool and surgeon’s scalpel. D DAR AL-HIKMAN: school of religious translation or interpretation. DARK THINGS: idiomatic for the infectious superstitions taught by the Missionaria Protectiva to susceptible civilizations. DEATH TRIPOD: originally, the tripod upon which desert executioners hanged their victims. By usage: the three members of a Cherem sworn to the same revenge. DEMIBROTHERS: sons of concubines in the same household and certified as having the same father. DERCH: right turn; a worm steersman’s call. DEW COLLECTORS or DEW PRECIPITATORS: not to be confused with dew gatherers. Collectors or precipitators are egg-shaped devices about four centimeters on the long axis. They are made of chromoplastic that turns a reflecting white when subjected to light, and reverts to transparency in darkness. The collector forms a markedly cold surface upon which dawn dew will precipitate. They are used by Fremen to line concave planting depressions where they provide a small but reliable source of water. DEW GATHERERS: workers who reap dew from the plants of Arrakis, using a scythelike dew reaper. DICTUM FAMILIA: that rule of the Great Convention which prohibits the slaying of a royal person or member of a Great House by informal treachery. The rule sets up the formal outline and limits the means of assassination. DISTRANS: a device for producing a temporary neural imprint on the nervous system of Chiroptera or birds. The creature’s normal cry then carries the message imprint which can be sorted from that carrier wave by another distrans. DOORSEAL: a portable plastic hermetic seal used for moisture security in Fremen overday cave camps. DRUM SAND: impaction of sand in such a way that any sudden blow against its surface produces a distinct drum sound. DUMP BOXES: the general term for any cargo container of irregular shape and equipped with ablation surfaces and suspensor damping system. They are used to dump material from space onto a planet’s surface. DUNE MEN: idiomatic for open sand workers, spice hunters and the like on Arrakis. Sandworkers. Spiceworkers. DUST CHASM: any deep crevasse or depression on the desert of Arrakis that has been filled with dust not apparently different from the surrounding surface; a deadly trap because human or animal will sink in it and smother. (See Tidal Dust Basin.)

Events 6.28

1098 – Fighters of the First Crusade defeat Kerbogha of Mosul. 1360 – Muhammed VI becomes the tenth Nasrid king of Granada after killing his brother-in-law Ismail II. 1461 – Edward, Earl of March, is crowned King Edward IV of England. 1519 – Charles V is elected Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. 1575 – Sengoku period of Japan: The combined forces of Oda Nobunaga and Tokugawa Ieyasu are victorious in the Battle of Nagashino. 1635 – Guadeloupe becomes a French colony. 1651 – The Battle of Berestechko between Poland and Ukraine starts. 1745 – A New England colonial army captures the French fortifications at Louisbourg (New Style). 1776 – American Revolutionary War: The Battle of Sullivan's Island ends with the American victory, leading to the commemoration of Carolina Day. 1776 – American Revolutionary War: Thomas Hickey, Continental Army private and bodyguard to General George Washington, is hanged for mutiny and sedition. 1778 – American Revolutionary War: The American Continentals engage the British in the Battle of Monmouth Courthouse resulting in standstill and British withdrawal under cover of darkness. 1797 – French troops disembark in Corfu, beginning the French rule in the Ionian Islands. 1807 – Second British invasion of the Río de la Plata; John Whitelocke lands at Ensenada on an attempt to recapture Buenos Aires and is defeated by the locals. 1838 – Coronation of Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom. 1841 – The Paris Opera Ballet premieres Giselle in the Salle Le Peletier. 1855 – Sigma Chi fraternity is founded in North America. 1859 – The first conformation dog show is held in Newcastle upon Tyne, England. 1865 – The Army of the Potomac is disbanded. 1870 – The US Congress establishes the first federal holidays (New Year Day, July 4th, Thanksgiving, and Christmas). 1880 – Australian bushranger Ned Kelly is captured at Glenrowan. 1881 – The Austro–Serbian Alliance of 1881 is secretly signed. 1882 – The Anglo-French Convention of 1882 marks the territorial boundaries between Guinea and Sierra Leone. 1894 – Labor Day becomes an official US holiday. 1895 – The United States Court of Private Land Claims rules James Reavis’s claim to Barony of Arizona is "wholly fictitious and fraudulent." 1896 – An explosion in the Newton Coal Company's Twin Shaft Mine in Pittston, Pennsylvania results in a massive cave-in that kills 58 miners. 1902 – The U.S. Congress passes the Spooner Act, authorizing President Theodore Roosevelt to acquire rights from Colombia for the Panama Canal. 1904 – The SS Norge runs aground on Hasselwood Rock in the North Atlantic 430 kilometres (270 mi) northwest of Ireland. More than 635 people die during the sinking. 1911 – The Nakhla meteorite, the first one to suggest signs of aqueous processes on Mars, falls to Earth, landing in Egypt. 1914 – Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria and his wife Sophie are assassinated in Sarajevo; this is the casus belli of World War I. 1917 – World War I: Greece joins the Allied powers. 1919 – The Treaty of Versailles is signed, ending the state of war between Germany and the Allies of World War I. 1921 – Serbian King Alexander I proclaims the new constitution of the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes, known thereafter as the Vidovdan Constitution. 1922 – The Irish Civil War begins with the shelling of the Four Courts in Dublin by Free State forces. 1926 – Mercedes-Benz is formed by Gottlieb Daimler and Karl Benz merging their two companies. 1936 – The Japanese puppet state of Mengjiang is formed in northern China. 1940 – Romania cedes Bessarabia and Northern Bukovina to the Soviet Union after facing an ultimatum. 1942 – World War II: Nazi Germany starts its strategic summer offensive against the Soviet Union, codenamed Case Blue. 1945 – Poland's Soviet-allied Provisional Government of National Unity is formed over a month after V-E Day. 1948 – Cold War: The Tito–Stalin Split results in the expulsion of the League of Communists of Yugoslavia from the Cominform. 1948 – Boxer Dick Turpin beats Vince Hawkins at Villa Park in Birmingham to become the first black British boxing champion in the modern era. 1950 – Korean War: Suspected communist sympathizers (between 60,000 and 200,000) are executed in the Bodo League massacre. 1950 – Korean War: Packed with its own refugees fleeing Seoul and leaving their 5th Division stranded, South Korean forces blow up the Hangang Bridge in an attempt to slow North Korea's offensive. The city falls later that day. 1950 – Korean War: North Korean Army conducts the Seoul National University Hospital massacre. 1956 – In Poznań, workers from HCP factory go to the streets, sparking one of the first major protests against communist government both in Poland and Europe. 1964 – Malcolm X forms the Organization of Afro-American Unity. 1969 – Stonewall riots begin in New York City, marking the start of the Gay Rights Movement. 1973 – Elections are held for the Northern Ireland Assembly, which will lead to power-sharing between unionists and nationalists in Northern Ireland for the first time. 1976 – The Angolan court sentences US and UK mercenaries to death sentences and prison terms in the Luanda Trial. 1978 – The United States Supreme Court, in Regents of the University of California v. Bakke bars quota systems in college admissions. 1981 – A powerful bomb explodes in Tehran, killing 73 officials of the Islamic Republican Party. 1982 – Aeroflot Flight 8641 crashes in Mazyr, Belarus, killing 132 people.[5] 1987 – For the first time in military history, a civilian population is targeted for chemical attack when Iraqi warplanes bombed the Iranian town of Sardasht. 1989 – On the 600th anniversary of the Battle of Kosovo, Slobodan Milošević delivers the Gazimestan speech at the site of the historic battle. 1997 – Holyfield–Tyson II: Mike Tyson is disqualified in the third round for biting a piece off Evander Holyfield's ear. 2001 – Slobodan Milošević is extradited to the ICTY in The Hague to stand trial. 2004 – Iraq War: Sovereign power is handed to the interim government of Iraq by the Coalition Provisional Authority, ending the U.S.-led rule of that nation. 2009 – Honduran president Manuel Zelaya is ousted by a local military coup following a failed request to hold a referendum to rewrite the Honduran Constitution. This was the start of the 2009 Honduran constitutional crisis. 2016 – A terrorist attack in Turkey's Istanbul Atatürk Airport kills 42 people and injures more than 230 others.

Do any of your dragons have autism, vision problems and/or anything else that wasn't listed? c:

surprisingly, none of mine have autism! which may change in the future, since i get new dragons and still have things to figure out about current ones. (really, a big reason i don’t have any is because i don’t want to represent it incorrectly or in an offensive way, it’s something i try to avoid with -all- my mentally ill dragons. trying to learn more ^^)

-stares at all the dragons i have wearing glasses-it might be me projecting, but i love dragons with glasses, i think the apparel looks nice :’) so let’s find some of them with vision problems! (not all of them have glasses yet because i’m Broke)Emordnilap ofc, she’s got what i have and it changes as my own vision changes. she’s very nearsighted, has bad astigmatism, and has a hole in the retina of her right eye.Spatz is also nearsighted, though it’s not too bad. he can survive without glasses if he needs to.Artemis needs bifocals! she’s both near- and farsighted to an extent.Streunende is severely farsighted, which doesn’t help his job that requires lots of up-close reading of papers, documents, etc.

anything else not listed? uuh, well... a lot of my dragons have issues of one form or another.Sigma has DID, though its cause is the same as Oceana’s (no longer present?) schizophrenia: Sigma’s an Emperor with only one head, but has the blood of other imperials in her veins. similar to how each head has their own personality, the other imperials’ identities occasionally take over/front. she’s not a fan of this.several dragons have magic disorders! Quartz is unable to control her magic at times, which has explosive results. she tries not to use magic at all in order to avoid this.Schadenfreude has a disorder that purges his body of magic in the form of black/dark purple goop oozing from his mouth. sometimes it purges all the magic in his body, sometimes just a little bit, but it always looks really fucking bad when it happens. his teeth are stained grey because of this.Sucht has a drug-induced magic deficiency. the drug he uses causes a dragon’s magic to surge, creating a “high”, but over time it causes the dragon’s magic... creators? sources? eh? stuff that secretes magic in the body? idk, but it makes them work less and requires a higher dose of the drug to have the same effect. it makes him feverish, irritable, and tired.

sorry for the big wall of text ^^; 

January 21, 2022 40 Watt Sun – Perfect Light (Svart) Abyssus – Death Revival (Transcending Obscurity) Acheron – Satanic Victory EP Re-Release (Vic) Ashes Of Ares – Emperors And Fools (Rock Of Angels) Battle Beast – Circus Of Doom (Nuclear Blast) Billy Talent – Crisis Of Faith (Spinefarm) Blood – Dysangelium Re-Release (Vic) Boris – W (Sacred Bones) Comeback Kid – Heavy Steps (Nuclear Blast) Confess – Revenge At All Costs (Rexius) Diamond Dogs – Slap Bang Blue Rendezvous (Sound Pollution) Druid Lord – Relics Of The Dead (Hells Headbangers) Edge Of Forever – Seminole (Frontiers) Giant – Shifting Time (Frontiers) Great American Ghost – Torture World EP (MNRK Heavy) Hanging Garden – Neither Moth Nor Rust EP (Lifeforce) Hellfox – The Call (Music For The Masses) Kandia – Quaternary (Frontiers) Kissin’ Dynamite – Not The End Of The Road (Napalm) Lalu – Paint The Sky (Frontiers) Lionheart – Second Nature Re-Release (Metalville) Minneriket – Gjennom meg går ingen til hvile (Self) Nepthisis – Spiral Hollow (Dark Iris) Setyoursails – Nightfall (Napalm) Sleepwulf – Sunbeams Curl (Heavy Psych Sounds) SOM – The Shape Of Everything (Pelagic) Spitfire – Denial To Fail (No Remorse) Through The Noise – Tragedies EP (Eclipse) Tokyo Blade – Fury (Dissonance) Vrsty – Welcome Home (Spinefarm) Shout out to some good labels @Century Media Records @NuclearBlastVEVO @Nuclear Blast Records @Ripple Music @Metal Assault Records @Unique Leader Records @Atlantic Records @InsideOutMusicTV @Creator-Destructor Records 👨🏿‍💻 @ojcpics 🎤 Scott Sommer 🎤 Michaela of The Bluntletters Podcast Gear we use: (These are affiliate links and Ghost Cult makes a small profit from a sale) Set up A: Sony A7 III - https://amzn.to/3tQm422 Tamron 17-28 - https://amzn.to/3ePrlTd Tamron 28-75 - https://amzn.to/3fqCjgY Desview Mavo-P5 Monitor- https://amzn.to/33LlTub Manfrotto Befree Travel Tripod - https://amzn.to/3hxbL0e Set up B: Canon 80D - https://amzn.to/3ye8WqV Sigma MC-11 - https://amzn.to/3brZdU2 Sigma 18-35 - https://amzn.to/3tLlEd7 Tokina 11-16 - https://amzn.to/3bty9Uk Feelworld T7 Monitor - https://amzn.to/2Re9hta Audio: Sound Devices MixPre-3 - https://amzn.to/3tKkJd2 Gearlux XLR Mic Cable - 3 Pack - https://amzn.to/3w3zN6Y Deity D3 Microphone - https://amzn.to/3tRa6W2 Fifine Usb Mic - https://amzn.to/3w8JHEG Lighting: YONGNUO YN600L - https://amzn.to/2QkNrn5 YONGNUO YN300 Air - https://amzn.to/2QjN5gu Dfuse Softbox - https://amzn.to/3uQq4AN Aputure MC - https://amzn.to/3oirFgx NanLite PavoTube II 6C - http://bit.ly/NanLitePavoTubeII Lightstands - https://amzn.to/3uSBl3x 5 in 1 Reflector - https://amzn.to/33KHdjo And our iconic Rope Light https://amzn.to/3ycdmyz For the full list of Ghost Cult gear: http://bit.ly/OJCPicsKit by Ghost Cult Magazine

Top New Fantasy Books in January 2022

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

A falling moon, an anti-refuge for portal fantasy children, and an epic quest for sisters are among January 2022’s fantasy offerings. Happy New Year!

The Starless Crown by James Rollins

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Type: Novel Publisher: Tor Books Release date: Jan. 4

Den of Geek says: Sigma Force author James Rollins turns his decades of thriller experience to epic fantasy, with the start of the Moon Fall series.

Publisher’s summary: An alliance embarks on a dangerous journey to uncover the secrets of the distant past and save their world in this captivating, deeply visionary adventure from #1 New York Times bestselling thriller-master James Rollins.

A gifted student foretells an apocalypse. Her reward is a sentence of death.

Fleeing into the unknown she is drawn into a team of outcasts:

A broken soldier, who once again takes up the weapons he’s forbidden to wield and carves a trail back home.

A drunken prince, who steps out from his beloved brother’s shadow and claims a purpose of his own.

An imprisoned thief, who escapes the crushing dark and discovers a gleaming artifact—one that will ignite a power struggle across the globe.

On the run, hunted by enemies old and new, they must learn to trust each other in order to survive in a world evolved in strange, beautiful, and deadly ways, and uncover ancient secrets that hold the key to their salvation.

But with each passing moment, doom draws closer.

Buy The Starless Crown by James Rollins.

Where the Drowned Girls Go by Seanan McGuire

Type: Novella Publisher: Tordotcom Publishing Release date: Jan. 4

Den of Geek says: We love it when an author inverts their own premise, which is exactly what is at play in the seventh Wayward Children novella: a school for the children of portal fantasies that may end their adventures instead of prolong them…

Publisher’s summary: In Where the Drowned Girls Go, the next addition to Seanan McGuire’s beloved Wayward Children series, students at an anti-magical school rebel against the oppressive faculty.

“Welcome to the Whitethorn Institute. The first step is always admitting you need help, and you’ve already taken that step by requesting a transfer into our company.”

There is another school for children who fall through doors and fall back out again. It isn’t as friendly as Eleanor West’s Home for Wayward Children. And it isn’t as safe.

When Eleanor West decided to open her school, her sanctuary, her “Home for Wayward Children,” she knew from the beginning that there would be children she couldn’t save; when Cora decides she needs a different direction, a different fate, a different prophecy, Miss West reluctantly agrees to transfer her to the other school, where things are run very differently by Whitethorn, the Headmaster.

She will soon discover that not all doors are welcoming…

Buy Where the Drowned Girls Go by Seanan McGuire.

The Beholden by Cassandra Rose Clarke

Type: Novel Publisher: Erewhon Books Release date: Jan. 18

Den of Geek says: Cassandra Rose Clarke’s penchant for inventive, poignant speculative stories makes for an intriguing tale of sisters settling divine debts while holding on to the destinies they’ve negotiated for themselves.

Publisher’s summary: Two sisters, a pregnant aristocrat and a scholar-magician, and themselves at the center of a conflict between the immortal being Decay and the Emperor himself…

Orphaned as young women, Celestia and Izara De Malena are land-rich but destitute, with only a failing rainforest acreage, Celestia’s perfect manners, and Izara’s nascent magic to their aristocratic names. With their money running out, Izara summons the Lady of the Seraphine to demand a favor: a husband for Celestia, one rich enough for the sisters to keep their land and restore their family name. But a favor from the river goddess always comes at a cost…

Five years later, as war and disease spread across the land, the Emperor calls Celestia’s husband away on a secret mission and the Lady returns to collect her due. Izara is forced to leave the academy where she studies to become a mage; Celestia is pulled from her now-flourishing farm while pregnant with her first child.

Together, they must repay their debt—embarking on an impossible quest that pits them against Celestia’s husband, the Emperor, and a god even more powerful than the Lady of the Seraphine. Gorgeous, compelling, and utterly captivating, The Beholden follows Celestia and Izara as they journey from lush rainforest to frozen desert to find a god who doesn’t want to be found, and prevent the end of the world.

Buy The Beholden by Cassandra Rose Clarke.

The post Top New Fantasy Books in January 2022 appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3sYFvZz