#praetor gladiator
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I want to talk about Kallark, Gladiator, because I like him a lot. Not as person, but more as a cool character.
He's present in the new ep of X-Men 97, don't have many lines and just standing there and being cool most of time. But, seeing Charles discussing with the Shi'ar about their government made me think about Gladiator's role in all of this, specially after he agreed with Charles about 'idealism being a sign of insanity', and because of his past.
I'm gonna try to put it into words as best I can. It's too long and i just want to ramble about one of my favorite underrated character(s).
Gladiator is the praetor, he's known for being extremely loyal to the Empire, to the person that sits on the throne, no matter who it is. Yet, hes known for being honorable and having respect for those who beat him up or have high morals, that includes Lilandra, for her kindness, Rachel, Charles and Cyclops (though we know he would not hesitate to fight them if it meant protecting the empire)
Right, he's too prideful, but that's because his powers comes from his confidence on himself. And what bugs about me in his character is that he's too loyal to this government, and they're the solely reason he's the last one of his species and he knows that what they do is wrong.
In War of Kings: Warriors we see Kallark thinking about his past while under the rule of Vulcan.
The Shi'ar are a imperialist and colonizing government. They invade other planets and force these civilizations to kneel under their ruler, and depending of the planet, these can people will end slaves for the Shi'ar without rights. This happened to Kallark's people.
The strontians are/were a very powerful species that even the Shi'ar were scared of their power, but they're mostly gone now, with Kallark, his son Kubark and his cousin Xenith being the last living ones.
Kallark was born to be a soldier and trained to serve the Shi'ar Empire, together with his peers, other strontians of his age, his close friends. And all of them were loyal to the Shi'ar, wanting to prove themselves worthy of being part of the Imperial Guard.
Of course, Kallark was chosen because he was the most dedicated. The only thing the Shi'ar didn't liked about him is that he would often leave the missions to save his peers.
So they test his loyalty by making him attack his own people and kill them to see which one he would choose, his family or his duty. In the end he ends dooming his people by doing exactly what the Shi'ar asked, and it's fucked up.
The elders even say that they knew that Kallark could never turn his back to his duty, because "he's a good soldier". His family dies knowing he had chosen the Shi'ar and not them, his friends die disappointed on him.
The flashback ends with Kallark wodering if he would still follow Vulcan if it meant the fall of the empire, and Kallark decides that he would, because Vulcan is the Emperor and Kallark is loyal to the throne.
And that's what makes me hate him! He's too loyal. To the wrong cause. He's so loyal to the empire he ends up forgetting things he actually cares about, like Lilandra's love for him and his own son.
He loves them deeply, he cares for his people, his friends from his home planet, his friends from the Imperial Guards, his soldiers, his son. However, he can't let go of being a soldier.
We don't know much about his past or what the Shi'ar Empire did to Strotia, but it's clear they forced and pushed their ideals and rules on the young strontians to turn them into loyal weapons. And after years and years of serving the crown, Kallark can't change.
He's fully aware of the atrocities the royal family, the elders, the people in the power do to other civilizations, yet he stays by their side.
That's why when he agreed with Charles in X-Men 97, and Charles started explaining to them how their system was harmful, I was wondering if Kallark feels guilty. If it even crosses his mind what he had done to his own people.
In the comics, when Lilandra is desposed from the throne and the elders try to kill her, Kallark, who has been working for Vulcan until now, despite hating doing so, stays on Lilandra's side.
He loves her, it's obvious, he respects her and knows she only has the best interests in her heart. He even refers to her as 'Majestrix Lilandra'. He mourns her death later, he goes in a blind rage massacre, he kills everyone in sight and Black Cloak even says 'it would be painful for him to live without her'.
Later in Watxm Annual, an issue that focus on Kubark, his son, he shows how much he cares for him, how much he loves and is proud of Kubark's strength and grow.
When Kubark shows he's unhappy in his situation, being the only strontian in a school where every student must stay with their own species, Kallark doesn't listen to him. Kubark says he wants to be unique and choose his own path, Kallark denies, because it's 'not the way of the empire'.
It reminds me that Kallark, who grew up brainwashed to obey the Shi'ar, to believe that being a soldier is his only choice, expects his son to do the same.
In the beginning, Kubark did want to be a soldier like him, he hated being on Earth because he believed his destiny was to be a warrior. Then he learned he would be lonely if he did and he decided he wanted to be a hero. To be himself. And to choose.
Kubark choose to be loyal to his friends and make his own choices. Kallark did not.
So, if he's willing to change his mind and leave his job as praetor aside to protect someone he loves like he did to Lilandra, why he can't do the same for Kubark?
In the end he allows Kubark to go back to Earth. Later Kubark is back on Shi'ar, so we don't know if he was allowed to stay on earth just until he graduated. But he allows Kubark to go back and be himself, because be loves him.
But he stays the same. He never changes. He keeps making had decisions and committing mistakes and doing bad things for the empire.
Kallark is a Shi'ar by citizenship, but he's a Strontian, he's not considerate a Shi'ar, and he might not even have the same rights the Aerie Shi'ar have. He might be the most loyal and powerful soldier of the Empire, but he's nothing more than a strotian, and nothing more than a soldier. He's a soldier first, then majestor, a father, a friend.
Later when I discovered about his past and started to read about him I just made the same questions all the time: Why he never tried to change the way the Empire works? Why he never changed the bad things that the Empire did?
It would be interesting if the writers acknowledged that (that would be expecting much from Marvel). Kubark shows that he cares for Earth and his friends, that he's genuinely good and wants to do goods things. It would be interesting to see him trying to fight his father's ideals and the Empire.
It will never happen. Both these characters are underrated and were already forgotten by the writers, but I wanted to see it.
#i just want to ramble#too many thoughts#kallark#kubark#gladiator#kid gladiator#praetor gladiator#Shi'ar empire#lilandra neramani#marvel#x men#watxm#x men 97
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Imagine, for a moment, that you are Marcus Culpurnius Bibulus.
65 BCE: You're elected aedile! Sort of a public works/events manager role. Problem: your co-aedile is Julius Caesar. Caesar spends a metric fuckton on gladiator games and people forget you exist.
62 BCE: You're elected praetor! Nice! Problem: Julius Caesar has also been elected praetor. He immediately steals the show by trying to put your buddy on trial, then getting dragged into the Bona Dea scandal. Okay, that last bit isn't Caesar's fault, but still. Rude.
59 BCE: Holy shit you've become a consul! This is the top of any Roman's career dreams! But wait...your co-consul...is Julius Goddamn Caesar.
Caesar proposes some land reform bill that is probably stupid because it's Caesar's. Who knows, you didn't read it. He invites you to a public debate and you tell the voters to fuck off. They dump poop on your head and break your fancy consul badge (fasces). RUDE.
You decide to Take Your Ball and Go Home. You spend the rest of your term in office hiding at home pretending Caesar is threatening you.
You also make up Spooky Omens in an attempt to shut down all government business for the rest of the year, rather than let Caesar get credit for accomplishing anything.
On the last day of your term you return to the Senate, swear the traditional oath that you did your duty [Note: you did not], and attempt to give a speech that is immediately vetoed by Clodius Pulcher, who's only a tribune because Julius Goddamn Caesar let him get reclassified as a plebeian.
No one, no one, has ever hated Caesar as much as you do.
Caesar fucks off to Gaul and very inconsiderately does not die, despite all your prayers to Jupiter. You fuck off to Syria and take credit for repelling a Parthian invasion. [You did not.] The soldiers you supposedly commanded get pissed at you.
You return to Rome just in time to sabotage peace negotiations between Caesar and Pompey and help kick off a civil war. Pompey sends you to command his fleet so he doesn't have to put up with you. You have one (1) job, to stop Caesar from crossing into Greece.
Caesar gets past you anyway. You manage to blockade the rest of his ships from following him, but you're so bad at this you're running out of food faster than he is. Somehow. Despite having access to the entire Mediterranean Sea.
You ask for a truce and Caesar, who has negotiated with every other Pompeian so far, basically responds with "LOL." This pisses you off so much you die.
You are remembered by historians 2000 years later solely in relation to your worst enemy.
You were Marcus Calpurnius Bibulus, the nepo baby who failed his way to the top and accomplished nothing.
#the human embodiment of that one sock collecting dust at the back of your drawer#marcus calpurnius bibulus#ancient rome#julius caesar#jlrrt scribbles
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Jasico Week Day One: Confession
The pen on the table remains untouched.
(This shouldn’t be an issue. This isn’t an issue. The fact that Nico noticed it is a fluke all on its own and it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t.)
Jason’s hands are perfectly still in his lap beneath the table, conversation flowing freely as ever. They’d been chatting about their days - Nico just got back from a long job for his father, and happened to bump into Jason outside the Principia. They’d gone out to lunch. Nico made Jason laugh three times.
The pen is still untouched.
(The thing is, Jason is a fiddler. He fiddles, but only when he’s calm. He lets his hands move freely because he doesn’t feel the anxious pressure to keep himself in line. When he’s anxious, he’s still as the dead, the perfect picture of a well-mannered leader. Nico shouldn’t know this. He can’t help but know things about people.)
Jason’s office looks the same as it did the day Nico first found himself in it, across from a stranger who stared at him like Nico was prey, was something to be hunted down, killed.
Then, the office felt like a jail cell. He was their prisoner until Reyna could confirm his bullshit ambassador story, technically, not that either of them will admit it.
Some of the pictures on the walls have Nico in them, now. He avoids looking at them if he can. It’s too weird.
Nico stares at the pen, instead.
“Annabeth should be getting out of her afternoon class pretty soon, if you’re bored,” Jason says, a little tone in his voice that sounds like he’s picked up on Nico’s wandering mind.
“I’m not bored.” He does not move that damned pen. “Are you okay?”
Jason stops, as much as an unmoving man can. Nico glances up to his eyes briefly, then over to a framed photo of Hazel and Reyna post-battle, the two of them in their full gladiator armor clasping hands respectfully.
In Nico’s peripherals, Jason slumps in slightly, his chin dipping. “You always do that,” he sighs.
“Do what?”
Finally, Jason’s hand twitches across the desk, his fingers brushing the gold-capped pen. It’s Camp Jupiter branded, engraved with Jason’s name and rank and everything. A gift from the praetors who came before him and Reyna.
Jason flicks the pen expertly across his knuckles.
Nico exhales. He hadn’t realized how tense he was.
“Nothing,” Jason says. “You reminded me that there was something I needed to ask you, though.”
(Nico’s always noticed more things about Jason than he does other people. Jason’s just that kind of guy, the kind who deserves to be noticed. Of course Nico always watches him; Jason is a leader, everyone looks up to him, everybody sees him.
Nico observes, though, he doesn’t just see. He takes note, remembers things, always trying to figure out the puzzle pieces that make Praetor Grace the way he is.
Sometimes, it feels like Nico gives Jason more answers about himself than Jason even knows. It’s a good feeling, to show somebody a part of themself they hadn’t yet found, or appreciated. Nico loves the look on Jason’s face every time Nico points something out to him. Jason has a kind smile.)
“That doesn’t sound good,” Nico says, though he’s not nervous. Jason has always been upfront with him - if there were an issue, they would’ve spoken about it over their meal. He leans back in his chair and folds his fingers across his stomach, able to relax now that Jason is behaving normally again.
“It’s not bad, I promise.” Jason flicks the pen again and leans back in his own chair, the old parts squeaking under his weight. “I wanted to ask if…if you’d like to get dinner, sometime.”
Nico frowns, skipping his gaze once again to Jason’s face. “But we just got lunch.”
“I’m asking if you’d like to go on a date, Nico,” Jason says, his voice suddenly softened and amused and, a date. A date?
Jason wants to go on a date?
Nico stares at the pen, now, each revolution around Jason’s finger twisting his brain in a new knot. Jason- a date. Jason wants to go on a date. A dinner date. A romantic date.
With Nico?
“You don’t have to say yes.” Jason leans forward again, a fluid motion, and he stops spinning the pen but maybe not because he’s stressed. He presses his hand down onto the desk, close to Nico. He says, “don’t feel pressured or anything. I just…wanted to ask. Because I-I really like you, I like how you make me feel, about myself, and- and I love spending time with you. And, of course, if you don’t- feel that same way, I’m fine staying friends. I love being friends with you, too. But, if there’s a chance, y’know. I didn’t want to- miss it.”
Miss his chance. Miss his chance, as if there would ever be a time Nico was unavailable, for- dating purposes? As if there are any other people anywhere who would consider Nico worthy of romance, as if Jason Grace hasn’t just presented Nico with the biggest anomaly since he brought his sister back to life.
Miss his chance. Gods above.
(The first time Nico saw Jason fidget, they were hanging out at Camp Half-Blood, waiting for Will to get out of a meeting with Chiron and his cabinmates. Jason started picking at the threads on the sofa, then moved on to twisting the beads of his necklace, and the small bronze ring Leo forged for him which wound up being too small to fit.
It was also the first time Nico noticed that Jason had nice hands. It was the first time Nico looked at Jason and thought, he’s really pretty.
It was the first time Nico thought, no. Not again.)
“You’re serious?” Nico asks. He has to be sure. Jason would never joke about something like that, not knowing what he knows, and Nico knows all that, but none of this quite makes sense, either.
Jason smiles, his face rosy pink like he’s flustered. “I am one hundred percent serious.”
“You want to go on a date.”
“Yes.”
“With me?”
“No. I want to go on many dates with you.”
Nico blinks, draws a blank on responding to that one. He opens his mouth, then shuts it. He watches Jason weave the pen between his fingers expertly, unbothered by the weight of it. It’s a practiced movement, one Nico’s seen hundreds of times.
“Well, uhm.” Nico shifts back and forth in his seat. “I don’t have to leave for another week, at least. So we could…get dinner while I'm here?”
“The date way?” Jason asks, sitting up straighter, his face doing that thing it does when he’s trying hard not to smile. Not to get his hopes up. Jason has hopes to get up about dating.
Nico feels some giddy little thing light off in his own chest, fluttering enough that he presses a hand to it to try and calm it down. “Yeah,” he says, and, dammit, now he’s smiling, because Jason’s grin breaks loose and it’s like sunlight on a clear blue day, warm and dazzling. “The date way.”
#jasicoweek2023#day1#jasico#nico di angelo#jason grace#pjo#hoo#I just got home from a day of work and my brain is only halfway working so. my apologies if this is. illegible#I didn't even know Jasico week was this week but I'm glad I saw it!!! i wanna participate hehehehe >;)#tomorrow I don't work either so I can hopefully do some writing for this week then! WAHOO FUN TIMES#anyway I think Jason is very matter-of-fact about his feelings for Nico and wants to make it as clear as possible to Nico#because idk Jason just seems like that kind of guy to me#HRNGH. time to go roll around on the floor.
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To all praetors- What do you think of the Mirran's technology? Is that something the legions of Phyrexia could incorporate?
The Mirran people are capable of great acts of artifice. It is what finally convinced me that Phyrexia is not, cannot be, the end of perfection. The goblins and other willing converts of my sphere joyously mix the technologies of their old and new lives, but unfortunately the other spheres do as well, to oppressive ends.
-U
There is some merit to the rudimentary stirrings of vedalken and Neurok minds. Their quicksilver canisters resemble our own oil-based informational storage. Of more value than their products, however, are their minds themselves. The great Meldweb, the apex of the Progress Engine's computing technology, is developed from countless integrated vedalken brains.
-J
Mostly ineffective toys, but fun to see my gladiators wield.
-S
All that is Mirran will be embraced in the Phyrexian unity, as the Etchings dictate. Through us, their bodies and their technology will all be elevated as pieces of our grander purpose.
-E
MIRRAN OR PHYREXIAN, ALL ARTIFICE IS THE SAME. A LIE TO BE DESTROYED.
-V
#urabrask#jin-gitaxias#sheoldred#elesh norn#vorinclex#mtg#magic the gathering#new phyrexia#xenobladexfan
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In regards to whole uluran/cabal thing I would suggest reading the post by @allonsyjeni in regards to their thoughts on the matter
Thanks for sending this! Here's the link. I'm glad to hear another perspective!
I want to say that my involvement in this is because my Jewish friends have been incredibly uncomfortable with Destiny ever since the stuff from Chosen and when things were put together + combined with the name "Cabal." A lot of the times when they wanted to speak about it, they would get harassed online for it so I offered to speak in their stead since antisemitic harassment doesn't affect me. I'm glad to take the punch instead of them.
Most of these things separately would not be as strange to see, but together it raises eyebrows. I wanna leave the majority of the discussion to people who are actually Jewish, but I do already know that a lot of Jewish people are unhappy about this naming so ultimately, it would not affect anyone outside of people who would be made less upset if the word was dropped.
I'd like to point out a few things from the lore perspective. First, what the "Cabal" describes. So far we have not seen any indication that it just describes their ruling style. All Cabal rulers, some of which differ wildly, have called their people "Cabal." Calus largely abandoned conquest and war but still calls himself and his people "Cabal." The word is also used to refer to individuals of the species. If it were just a ruling style, then we would reasonably see a difference.
This COULD be just a thing to make in-game stuff more uniformed but even outside of gameplay elements, all Cabal regardless of affiliation or status or rank are called the same. The name of the military leaders ruling prior to Calus was the Praetorate. Calus overthrew them to take reign as the Emperor. Despite all of these disagreements and differences in ruling, they all call themselves "Cabal."
OP also pointed out that they are heavily based on Ancient Rome. Which is true! It's something I am very familiar with, having a master's degree on this topic. It's also why it's extra strange to me that they are called "Cabal." Everything else they have has Ancient Roman terminology; centurions, legions, phalanxes, praetorians, gladiators. Their whole culture is based on Ancient Rome with conquest and war and integrating conquered species into the Empire, assimilating them and giving them citizenships... It's all a very clear reference.
So why "Cabal"? It is not in any way related to Ancient Rome or anything from antiquity. There's also other influences from other cultures for them as well! But never anything Jewish. Naming them "Cabal" makes literally zero sense. Which is exactly why it raises eyebrows for me and others, when paired with other stuff. Nothing else about them is Jewish, so why that name and random bits and pieces? Why "golem" out of nowhere? The guy is called Basilius! It originated from Greek and was adapted by the Romans! It's always been very strange to me, even outside of the context of antisemitism.
I also want to touch on "shadows" because that only works in context of Calus. Calus was exiled and brought with him his loyalists, aka people who still believe he is the one true Emperor. Calus has also always been preparing to one day return and rule the Cabal again. The "shadows" in this context absolutely evoke an idea that Calus is the real ruler, ruling in secrecy from the sides, like a "shadow government" until he is put back into his rightful place again. Which is an antisemitic conspiracy.
The association of the two words, "shadow" and "cabal" is directly linked to antisemitism. His Shadows are explicitly here to help Calus re-establish his reign again and they're all a part of his elite council. The imagery involved here is not subtle. Furthermore, the Shadows are all parts of other species, which evokes another troubling imagery of "the elite members of every group are in on this." The idea is that there are members of every species that believe in the true Emperor Calus, who want to help him become the ruler again. Similarly, the problem with "Shadow Legion" is the "Shadow" part.
Obviously, this may have been just a coincidence. It's really hard to prove what was the thought process behind this, as that is the whole point of dogwhistles. It can easily be explained with something else, leaving only those "in on it" to understand what it truly means. It definitely doesn't remove the fact that some people see it and have a visceral reaction to the implications.
Other details mentioned are all stuff that can be easily explained otherwise, as OP pointed out. I definitely agree on that which is also why I don't want to assume malice on Bungie's part. Unfortunately, the word "cabal" is pretty clear. Obviously it has a more benign possible meaning, but as we both said, it's why it's a dogwhistle. The origin of the word and the most common usage is very explicitly antisemitic, even when people don't know where it came from. And the situation irl currently is such that I cannot see that word and not flinch. It's incredibly difficult to remove the association and think of "cabal" as just my silly little space rhinos.
But I do want to show this perspective as well and ask others to see that as well. And I especially invite other Jewish people to weigh in on it because it primarily affects them. My personal opinion is always that if there's a group that is upset by something and the rest of us are indifferent to it, we should act on the behalf those who are upset.
#destiny 2#uluran#long post#antisemitism#i do genuinely appreciate a different perspective#it's an actual good conversation to have. i would rather talk about this than a millionth twitter post about steam numbers#there will definitely be a disagreement but as long as there's actual people who are affected and upset...#... i think it's worth changing it in the future. it would also make sense lore-wise anyway for caiatl to rebrand away from calus#even outside of antisemitism it just makes sense that she would reform things especially in context of their alliance with us#it's somewhat difficult to rebrand absolutely everything given gameplay stuff but it's possible to do the best they can#it worked with eliksni! we still have bounties and stuff that call them 'fallen' but for the most part all lore is now uniformed to eliksni
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Games played in Camp Jupiter
Covering smaller games that the kids have taken time to play, and the bigger official games, this post was going to be also a Camp Half-Blood one but really like… I just don’t talk about CHB lol.
When I mention something about actual Ancient Rome, take any and all my words with pinches of salt, I try to research a lot but for silly posts like this I cannot 100% confirm that my information is historically accurate. I am not historian:]
Camp Jupiter
Camp Jupiter takes their games seriously. Literally doesn’t matter the game, everyone get super riled up for the war games. Or you’d see the most competitive game of Yahtzee. Staring with the canon war games first, the ones mentioned are listed below,
Death ball; described as similar to paint ball, except wild- using things like various dangerous poisons, acids, and fireballs (however that may be) and is the most deadly. Canonically (as we get the only deathball match in Camp Jupiter classified) is played by launching the balls from mini manuballista, or smaller variants of a type of ancient Roman crossbow. We only get one paragraph explaining it then move on, I think that’s the nature of CJC and I honestly don’t care for it that much. Despite my confusion on how this game canonically is described, I’d like to say my own Hc I got when I first heard ‘Deathball’ in SoN. In my head it’s water balloon fight, dodgeball-esque. With all of the deadly things in these balls that break on contact. It probably is the newest war game after some Praetors in more modern times instated it. The game is very loose, you’re with your contubernium (A Contubernium is the smallest unit in the Roman military, close to modern squads and though they likely didn’t serve much purpose other than to boost morale and like group stuff in the legion I like thinking of them serving a slightly bigger purpose in my Camp Jupiter- more on that in the future) and the goal is probably to make it to a certain marker or something without loosing members or whatever. Because reminder, the war games are just practices of war skills that the legionnaires need to know and serve a purpose to train them and aren’t just silly little games. And as for a cherry on top Ancient Romans possibly played Dogeball akin games- (P.S Frank also mentions this one too but I just didn’t mention that)
Siege is the name of the game we see in SoN and I really don’t have many thoughts on Siege, think that maybe it’s a bit more organized and the cohorts have a lot more stratagem (my autocorrect just used stratagem and I’m not changing it) involved in it. War games are probably a like twice a month thing and are announced probably the week before(? Like the first week of the month the war game for next Friday is announced and then after that the next is announced for the last day of the month, idk tho) and cohorts are given more time to plan.
Gladiator battles; Frank mentions this once and then we move on with no further explanation. I’d think this (and chariot racing among other things) are played in New Rome, and it’s a bracket tournament style (sort of like how Wrestling meets work except also trying to narrow it down until all the matches funnel into one victor? Like those bracket things in like basketball or in the movies- idk) and should only have one victor like I said. Killing isn’t the name of the game in this iteration (they still need their legionnaires-) though injuries are very common and a few have died to it, but surprisingly has a pretty low death rate; probably because they have both camp medics and actual doctors from New Rome on site.
Chariot Racing; the other one that Frank mentions. Also in New Rome, worked roughly the same as in Rome. I don’t have many thoughts other than this shifts Camp a bit and (like from my skimming of some articles-) higher ranking legionnaires and higher ranking families like to have their own horse teams, certain legionnaires take interest in charioteering too. Two members from each cohort are possibly selected for the chariot racing (Two races occur every time, for the fun of it) and compete as usual.
Legionnaires when finally retiring from the legions often do like pursuing careers that correlate to was ancient Roman sports were like. There are leagues purely for different teams within New Rome, seeing as sports are very important (Also if including my silly little outposts hc, they also have their own teams and the leagues have their own stuff and it’s like sports-)
Now, I’m actually good with the list of canon war games and don’t have much more to add onto it, and therefore I wanna get into the smaller games that legionnaires on their own free time like playing,
Swimming; Legion-wide activity that legionnaires like taking part in, whether that is swimming in the little tiber, or in recreational parts of the bathhouse/bathhouses. Legionnaires from not New Rome like to introduce water games.
Boxing and wrestling are givens though they lean more ancient, no dying but the rules are a bit looser. Boxing gloves aren’t used and Camp opts for the traditional method of wrapping your hands with cloth or even just going bare knuckle if both parties agree to it. It’s recreational and not taken too seriously, though disputes sometimes are solved in any method of these smaller games (think duel esque but not actually dying)
Running events; stuff like foot races are really common in camp for freetime. Also doubles as crucial camp training for stamina and strength, plus tag has begun to be integrated too.
Soccer; American football hasn’t caught on too much but Soccer is shared between bother parties. Modern soccer and then New Rome’s soccer type, along with other ball games like rugby, and kickball.
Mythomagic; practically universal. Most New Rome kids grew up on it and will teach new legionnaires that don’t know. There’s a shop in New Rome that specializes in games.
Any type of Ancient Roman board games; there’s a lot and I don’t want to list all of them but this category. Most legionnaires grew up on them and play them with each other. Though it gets competitive.
Yahtzee; have I ever played Yahtzee? No. Do I know how to play Yahtzee? Also no. But it has dice in it and I feel like several Demigods made homemade Yahtzee and started playing.
Varying modern board games; some have caught on but all are mostly homemade except for a few that are from New Rome or families that live outside of New Rome sending them to active legionnaires. Things like monopoly are popular
Mafia; New Rome kids have run with it and it really is a good skill builder for their mind skills or whatever. (I put it in because I like Mafia and I don’t hear people talk about it.)
Note on a future update of the Camp Jupiter map, I have given up on drawing it- drawing it makes it 10x more confusing for me, I’ll just describe things and buildings and I’m honestly better at that. If anyone wants to tackle drawing it from any future descriptions I’d give them go ahead but for now I’ll stick to just describing it all with my delight rather than stressing myself over a map lol.
Also the gaming scene needs to come out with a rpg(?) game set in Ancient Rome with deep character customization, interesting story, and focuses more on the story than combat mechanics because I want that (think Pokémon or Hogwarts legacy esque) also a Pjo game that is similar to the games I mentioned, please I’d froth at the throat over it.
Anyway like I said this was supposed to include CHB games but like- I don’t know but I just.. don’t talk about CHB. I’m more motivated about Camp Jupiter and like talking about it more.
Also wanted to include my favorite board game (Ticket to Ride) in this but I sadly do not think it’s very popular in Camp Jupiter. Also I spitefully didn’t name Chess, but chess is probably played.
#hehe :3#pjo hoo toa#camp jupiter#hoo#hoo headcanon#camp jupiter headcanons#just wanted to blabber about something more lighthearted in Camp Jupiter#okay bye
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Mount Vesuvius (Naples, Italy) aka one of the most dangerous volcanoes of the world. Few facts:
In 73 BC, the volcano was the site of the battle between the escaped slaves/gladiators led by Spartacus and the roman militia led by Praetor Gaius Claudius Glaber (Battle of Mount Vesuvius).
The giant crater at the top of Vesuvius was formed by the disastrous eruption of 79 AD that buried the cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum.
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Now that we've gotten the ending to the March of the Machines story, I'm deeply curious about someone we didn't see over the course of this set: Glissa.
(Spoilers for every part of MoM story under the cut)
We got hints of Glissa during the ONE story, in both Lukka's side story and her own Legends blurb. She's been Vorinclex's voice, following the same "Only the strong will survive"-type motive, organizing the Vicious Swarm while he revels in his ideal purity of strength. They're shown actively fighting in Lukka's story, and appear to be evenly matched. That she didn't appear in any of Elesh Norn's grand summonings of the praetors or the gathering of the compleat planeswalkers is a little suspect to me. She has been shown to be ambitious; that's where the black in her current color identity comes from, not just her reanimation at Phyrexia's talons.
But now the Praetors are (as far as we know, more or less) dead, and Phyrexia is isolated from the rest of the multiverse.
What better time is there for her to continue to gather her strength and place herself at the top of the Phyrexian food chain? Sure, the other Steel Thanes are still presumed to be alive (minus Geth, who was assimilated into Vishgraaz), but otherwise few Phyrexians of note are likely to be able (or willing) to challenge her.
A friend in the Gladiator discord mentioned the possibility of Glissa finding Vorinclex's head, still conscious, and happily finishing him herself as the new strongest creature in the Vicious Swarm. This set me the fuck off and now I wanna write about it but I'm already working on Liliana Strixhaven fanfic and if I add more to my load I might explode. But she's an interesting enough character to me I could end up going off anyway, either from her POV or casting like, Ixhel and the other more independant, freethinking Phyrexians as our protagonists and having Glissa as the rising villainess.
Also I really wanna explore the potential significance of the Sunslayer title in Phyrexian society.
#anyway definitely still not normal about phyrexia and this set did nothing to change that#except cut the fascist head from the fascism snake#which. excellent#magic the gathering#phyrexia#new phyrexia#glissa#glissa sunslayer#fox yips
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THE CHORUS OF HELL AT THE THEATER OF THE WORLD
The chorus of hell: everyone is watching you. They always have, all of your ancestors: the ones in hell! They congratulate each other coming into the stadium, thinking they are the first to arrive. It's light outside and the sun is shining. "We're all so young and shiny, this must be heaven for sure!" Sometimes they watch stage plays, anxiety dreams. They don't remember how to eat or sleep. They watch.
Their curse is that they have to watch the ones they cared about flail about and yes, occasionally triumph, without them. It's a cosmic tragicomedy, and we're the red meat they throw to the ghouls. The theater of the world, the theater of the real, call it what it is: a theater of cruelty!
Face it: you're in hell, you're in hell, you're in hell too, all of you! And the ones you bark and gnash about from the bleachers -- "oh, Rose isn't here! I wonder what she did" .. they're the ones in heaven, you fools!
Now they watch him swirl and stumble. He lays down his ambitions for a lowly toke of a joint. He scrimps and saves and aplogizes and obeys until the chances the almighty ghouls had in the betting stakes were all but gone! But fear not, for the spirit of God stirs within him. That's the show they're here to watch, after all. But they never know that, and they never will.
"Just look at him. He was so talented. A strong writer, and such a virtuoso! And now you couldn't tell him apart from one of the street rats in Berkeley."
"I have to admit, Carol, he had a golden ticket to the top but he seems to have thrown it to the wind." Austin's just shaking his head. Uncle Monty chimes in, "You guys are forgetting about the painting. He's not flailing, he's lying in wait, ready to pounce." It's all a bunch of bullshit, baffling brains from the grave.
They watch and laugh, mocking the will of God. The performance is hilarious, though. Praetor's ranking in the theater moves up and up, beyond the doctors and the lawyers and the ones whose failed progenitors watch so closely and with such obscenity
Praetor is glowing again. I mean literally glowing. Purple or blue. I don't know. He looks up at the sky and shakes his fist. "I am not a gladiator for an audience of geriatric devils! I did not come here to be judged!" The spirit of George Hume rises within him, animating his steps. He is joined by Wayne Daniels, Virginia Butler, Rose Humke, Linn Watts. Energies returned to source, reextended from the head. Angel arms, god tentacles, playing with him a like a toy.
The performance is for himself. They wait for God to send a message, but they've all forgotten his name. They don't listen, and they never will. Everyone is a pawn in this arena; the only antidote is death.
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Watching X-Men 97 ep 6 and thinking how it was awkward to have watch Lilandra and Charles being all lovely... and Kallark just standing there in the corner like
The whole time I was just thinking about them in the comics.
#kallark#gladiator#praetor gladiator#lilandra nerami#charles xavier#Shi'ar empire#x men#x men 97#marvel#i want to write about him#i got a whole character analysis of him#ahahcbjabsgsvsjsb
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Terms for Rome AU
Pulvinus - "royal box", at an arena, is where the editor, sponsor, dignitaries, and important guests (and sometimes their families and slaves) sit to watch the games. Unlike the rest of the arena, the Pulvinus was covered and protected from the heat and had better seating.
Where Rhaenyra would sit I think
"Dominus/Domina"- the word for master or owner. The word is most often used by slaves when speaking of/to.
Doctore- title of honour given to the lead trainer of the gladiators in a ludus. A doctore is typically a slave, one who had served as a skilled gladiator in his earlier days. Despite this, a doctore will enjoy a higher standing within the ludus than the gladiators themselves.
They often carry a whip, for use as both a training aid and for administering discipline and punishment.
Maybe Sir Harold could be the doctore for Daemon and Harwin's training. He fits. And we all love him.
Champions- the highest tier of gladiator and considered the best skilled warriors to enter the arena. In most cases the only way to become gladiator is to defeat another champion. Most houses have their own champion-level gladiator, but in terms of region or city there is often one who stands upon all others and is the one that the crowd roars to see.
Primus - primary event of a games (usually a day's worth) of gladiatorial matches. Basically, the "main event" or "main attraction". Only the best compete for the primus. Each ludus selects their own champion to represent their house.
Medicus- the Medical general for the Gladiators, attends the wounds of the gladiators. Each ludus has their own. He is very critical to others when not needed but is useful in his knowledge of Herb and Salve treatments. He also cuts the hair of new Gladiators.
Praetor - title granted by the Ancient Roman government to a senator, one holding the magistrate rank inferior only to consuls. Praetors commanded armies in the absence of the consuls and, more routinely, served as the judges of the Roman Republic.
Oh, that's really great. Thank you, Nonnie, for sharing this terms ❤️❤️❤️
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So random thought after reading your meta’s on the Hunger Games. Why do you think the Western Countries loves blood sport so much? Like the gladiator games of Ancient Rome. From an Asian perspective, blood sport is such a waste of perfectly good fighters and so insane to play with your POW’s like this. Technically, Easterners have killed way in absolute numbers at the same period of time, but we don’t play with them in this way. If Rome had been more pragmatic, they could’ve survived the Huns.
I don’t agree that Western countries have more of a love for blood and gore than Eastern ones. I think it is in human nature to be affected by such things, for better or for worse. I think the fascination comes as a means of trying to find meaning in our mortality, such as honor, glory, nobility, sacrifice, or, of course, we might also just like the adrenaline rush of surviving without being put in actual danger. The blood sports you have observed are merely the channeling of that love, or obsession with death into something that those in power felt was advantageous to them.From a political standpoint for the Romans, which the country of Panem seems to take a lot of inspiration from, it is a means of controlling the masses.
By having the gladiator competitions, the Roman government sends out a warning to anyone about the consequences of disobedience. The gladiators were made up largely of slaves, criminals etc. The people in the higher classes got to show off their power, the lower classes got to feel good that it wasn’t them in there, and the gladiators had a chance to win some glory for themselves, and might be more inclined to focus on that than on rebelling. Gladiators were taught to love combat, much as the Careers were in the Hunger Games. It’s a means of the Empire to showcase authority, and a means of distracting the people, pitting them all against each other, rather than unifying them. People like to be a part of the “in” group, and a quick way of creating that illusion is to have everyone shouting at an “other.” This notion of using violence to show power, and retain authority, is found in Eastern society too. You don’t bow before a Samurai? They cut your head of, no questions asked. People see it. They remember it. They’re glad it’s not them. The classes don’t mix, because they fear the consequences, have been taught to dehumanise them even, and that props the people in authority up. There are many ways to achieve that. Blood sports was one of them. It’s ultimately making a spectacle of “justice.”
“Panem,” is a reference to, “panem et circenses” commonly known as “bread and circuses.” This is a reference to how Rome sent out grain to appease the lower classes, and then offered “circuses” to distract them from the real problems. If they have just enough that they aren’t willing to risk losing it, especially when the consequences of rebellion is exhibited in “circuses,” you keep yourselves wealthy and powerful. This concept is demonstrated beautifully in The Hunger Games. The Capitol sends out tesserae grain which keeps the people having kids, so they can eat, which gives the Capitol more workers, and perpetuates a class divide/hatred, because it’s not fair that the poverty-stricken will have to take out tesserae, and are more likely to die. Then, lest anyone in the districts think of rebelling against the Capitol, the Capitol provides the “circus” that is The Hunger Games which showcases the consequences for violence, making sport of so-called “justice” for the rebels of the Dark Days. Look what the Capitol can do to you of you try that! Moreover, it divides the districts against each other. The districts outnumber the Capitol, so you can’t have they unifying. Fortunately, when they watch the other district’s children kill theirs for decades, it hardly fosters camaraderie. Additionally, because there is hope that if they win, their district will get “Parcel day” for a year, and the Victor gets wealth to spread around, it encourages the children in the arena to fight, because they have hope that they can get more “bread.” This is why the Capitol needs a Victor, it is what motivates the populace to fight all against each other rather than at the Capitol. They channel that will to survive, to have more, and redirect it somewhere useful: Hence, the Careers. Meanwhile the Capitolites crow at the Games because it’s proof of their power, like all “bullies,” there is the illusion that pushing someone down, somehow makes you better than them. People like to feel that way. That is why people liked blood sports. That is why they were invented.
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Gladiator! Always loved Kallark... Just wish he wasn't so mean to the X-Men all the time! . . #imperialguard #kallark #gladiator #shiar #shiarempire #uncannyxmen #xmenfanart #xmen #davecockrum #chrisclaremont #praetor https://www.instagram.com/p/CNQMWgfBxLO/?igshid=1s3wudlksjooi
#imperialguard#kallark#gladiator#shiar#shiarempire#uncannyxmen#xmenfanart#xmen#davecockrum#chrisclaremont#praetor
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Gladiator, Praetor of the Imperial Guard of the Shi'ar Empire, a.k.a. Kallark (like Kal-El + Clark, get it?). He's as powerful as he believes himself to be, and because he's extremely arrogant, he's insanely powerful. (day 48 of my X-Men art challenge)
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I wanted to do a post that went through the various details of the map I made a while ago - because I added a few neat things and yeah.
(Is this me showing how I'm right and all the other maps are wrong... maybe)
Anyway, a lot of the layout hinged on this general premise:
With its picketed walls, watchtowers and trenches, its neat rows of barracks lining two principal streets, it could have been any Roman legion camp, anywhere in the old empire, at any time during Rome's many centuries of rule. Romans were so consistent about how they built their forts - whether they meant to stay there for a night or a decade - that, if you knew one camp, you knew them all. You could wake up in the dead of night, stumble around in total darkness, and know exactly where everything was. [Tyrant’s Tomb]
With states the camp follows standard Roman practice. Which means there are four gates - with two intersecting roads. The principia should be in the middle, but it's not. But that can be explained by the legion simply being weaker than usual. They are probably at half strength.
Furthermore, the via praetoria runs from the back gate to the main right (in this picture that's left to right). The via principia runs from side gate to side gate, and goes passed the principia (in this picture that's up and down).
So let's talk about placement:
Starting off with the Fifth Cohort Barracks!
"The first four cohorts, each forty kids strong, stood in rows in front of their barracks on either side of the Via Praetoria. The Fifth Cohort assembled at the very end, in front of the principia, since their barracks were tucked in the back corner next to the stables and the latrines. Hazel had to run down the middle of the legion to reach her place"
and
The class met at the stables, which are located uncomfortably close to the Fifth Cohort barracks. How those guys stand the stench is beyond me. [CJ Classified]
The fifth cohort is "tucked away" from the other barracks - mostly, I would assume, because they are an odd number. Here was see that they are reasonable close to the principia, because they stand before the principia during the muster.
Furthermore, we learn that the other barracks are on the via praetoria.
Personally, I wanted the stables and the latrine swapped around, because it's important (in Roman camp construction) to put the latrine in a central place. That way everyone can get to it easily. But Percy sees the stables - not the latrine - when he first enters. So that has to be visible from the other barracks / principia.
[I would say, the latrine is in the right place if we assume the camp is only at half capacity]
Speaking of the principia...
At one corner of the crossroads stood the most impressive building – a two-storey wedge of white marble with a columned portico like an old-fashioned bank. [Son of Neptune]
As we can see the principia is on the crossroads. This is the expected place for it to go. I made it so you can walk through it - because it's implies the via praetoria goes straight through the camp, from back gate to main gate (the main gate faces New Rome and Temple Hill).
Next corner!
and
We passed the storefronts of merchants who were allowed to operate inside the fort's walls - only the most essential services, like a chariot dealership, an armoury, a gladiator supply store and a coffee bar. In front of the coffee place stood a two-headed barista, glowering at us with both faces, his green apron stained with latte foam.
Finally we reached the main intersection, where two roads came to a T in front of the principia. On the steps of the gleaming white headquarters building, the legion's praetors waited for us. [Tyrant’s Tomb]
Bargain shopping on the Via Praetoria is easy when you're descended from the god of shopkeepers. [CJ Classified]
Apollo, like Percy, enters the camp via the river gate. They both mention shops, so I included those right next to the gate. Once again using the principia as a means of orientation as well.
Claudia calls this street the via praetoria, which matches up with previous descriptions.
As for the positions of the bathhouse:
When I heard the ear-piercing scream tonight, I figured someone in the Fourth was having a nightmare of the impending-danger variety. Then I realised the shrieks weren’t coming from the barracks but from inside the bathhouse. [CJ Classified]
The nearest facility was a unisex single-seater that looked like a Porta-Poo portable toilet dressed up in marble tiles. [CJ Classified]
Claudia hears a scream and, at first, assumes it came from somewhere in her barracks. That makes me think the baths are super close, to the Fourth.
Plus a small portaloo in the corner!
Because the latrine is so far away, it makes sense that have little toilets in other sections of the camp.
Inside, the fortress bustled with activity: dozens of kids going to and from barracks, carrying weapons, polishing armour. Percy heard the clank of hammers at a forge and smelled meat cooking over a fire. [Son of Neptune]
Percy walks pass the barracks, seeing them, he then hears the clank of the forge - but doesn't necessarily see it. That meant it was probably pretty close to the barracks, on the river side of the principia.
As for the sigils of the legion:
The barracks had shady porches, where campers lounged in hammocks or played cards and drank sodas. Each dorm had a different collection of banners out front displaying Roman numerals and various animals – eagle, bear, wolf, horse and something that looked like a hamster. [Son of Neptune]
The eagle is the camp's main banner. And since the Fifth cohort is hidden away - that means 1-4 have bear, wolf, horse and hamster. I assigned "horse" to the 1st because horses were associated with the elite of Rome. (Horses are expensive!)
Claudia confirms that the 4th sigil is a wolf.
I used the fact that in the graphic novel, the 3rd and the 4th are next to each other, for the positions. Because it's not confirmed in the books themselves.
We also know that the First Cohort probably musters close to the principia, because Octavian and Reyna stand close together for the muster. And Hazel walks passed Octavian to get to the Fifth Cohort's mustering spot.
The artillery storage is also in this corner because:
It makes sense to be near the fabrica
the members of the First seem to be something of artillerists, everyone gets training of course, but Octavian's "most loyal followers" are the ones skilled enough to handle the onagers
It's close to the Field of Mars gate
I put the mess hall in this corner for two reasons.
Things were ugly in the mess hall this morning, and not just because an unprecedented number of legionnaires stumbled in with serious bed head. No, the trouble was because the food service was on the fritz. Instead of pancakes, bacon, and fruit, the wind spirits delivered nothing but hot, steamy oatmeal.Not a problem for me, but for the others... yikes.
Hangry legionnaires were gearing up to storm the kitchens when a big black raven aka Praetor Frank-flew in and announced that donuts from Bombilo's were on the way.
there wasn't anywhere else (lol)!
this quote ^ because we see that Frank has changed into raven. If Bombilo's shop was next door, he wouldn't need to do this.
I also added the infirmary here.
I did add a few extra shops, becasue there wasn't much room for them on the via praetoria.
Since the legionaries take classes at the camp, I added a lecture hall and study hall for them. These aren't canon per se. But they have to be somewhere.
there wasn't anywhere else!
it's near the Field of Mars, so easy access after practice gone wrong
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Again and Again, Even Though We Know Love’s Landscape | Asra x Milenko
☽ AGAIN AND AGAIN, EVEN THOUGH WE KNOW LOVE’S LANDSCAPE ☽
2.1k words. Written for Asra Week 2021, Day 4: Bonds. In which the secret of the Scourge is discovered, Anatole and Asra fight, and Milenko has no choice but to be caught in the middle.
Title comes from the poem of the same name, by Rainer Maria Rilke. Dani’s @apprenticealec‘s Baudelaire family has a cameo here.
You can catch up with Milasra’s pre-game canon, ‘Like Thirst Holds Water’, here.
CW: Trauma talk, mentions of captivity, suggested regicide.
Milan had only seen Anatole angry, really angry, a couple of times. While his cousin was easy to rile up, he truly believed in being kind and understanding with people and lived by it, even if sometimes (a lot of times) people exasperated him. Anatole was rather introverted but there was no doubt he was as people-leaning as can be. He believed in the freedom and fulfilment of the people with a candidness that refused naiveness. Anatole, while not immune to his own youth, was no fool.
He had a very determined set of things which did tick him off, that made him forget he was a polite person and unleashed his vindictive wrath upon whomever dared to do any of those things. Neglectful incompetence, abuse of power, people who tried to buy him over, cruel people, or people who spoke over him too many times. Same as people who purposely messed with his schedule, when he had already explained why he had one. Being lied to for no good reason or feeling betrayed by people he loved and actively gave his time to, also angered him.
He supposed Asra’s was a good reason, or at least, he understood the reasons behind it. However, Milenko also wanted to think Asra had a good reason to keep from all of them why Muriel wasn’t around any more.
Milenko had always known there had to be another reason as to why Asra could not stand the Count — besides him trying to ask about his parents and getting nothing, Lucio’s slumming and overall intolerable personality, or the way he ruled. Milenko didn’t know what it was exactly, but he knew it had stirred something up in Asra, something that had been happening for at least a year. He had offered Asra the opportunity to come to him, whenever he was ready. His mothers had done the same, offering their home as a safe place; so had Anatole and Paris albeit in a different way than Milenko had.
Or was it different? He didn’t know. It was love, after all.
Anatole had found out about Muriel because he had been more or less forced to go to the Colosseum. As a general rule, no Cassano, and certainly no Radošević-Cassano, went to the building. Public entertainment was not a problem, even when it was not their brand of public entertainment. Their problem was when aristocrats, or worse, rulers, used it to provide some sort of macabre bread and circus, holding people against their wills and depriving them from their rights, grooming people in a lesser position into fighting, and another set of practices they had tried to mend for years upon years with their hold of the Consulship.
That was, perhaps, why it was even more crucial that the Cassano never went — because all of the social failings of Vesuvia which procured the main source of “gladiators” were things the Consul was usually responsible for, having to find ways to mitigate them. However, there were always people like the Baudelaire family and their circles who did not hesitate to use their own influence to keep their business models. Owning things was not a job, exploiting others was not a job. It had gotten to such a point of tension that when Valerian Cassano was still performing, he refused to do it if a Baudelaire was in the audience, especially if it was their patriarch. His husband, Iovanus, former Consul of Vesuvia, had not been much better when he was still alive: the old Count Spada had to force him to hold meetings with them, otherwise, he plainly refused to, and Iovanus was stubborn as a mule.
The Cassano took their civic duties seriously. Way too seriously to some people. Lucio was one of those people, which made matters worse. Count-Consul cooperation was minimal, despite certain rumours flying around in the City, and with Vlastomil as the Praetor, the criminal justice system in Vesuvia was decidingly falling apart. Lucio could say whatever he wanted, but everyone who had an ounce of critical thinking could tell what the Scourge of the South, or rather, Muriel —Milenko would not use that never, he would never use a name that wasn’t Muriel’s own— actually was to him.
Now they knew Lucio had threatened Muriel with hurting Asra, and lied to Asra about his possibility to free him if he paid his “debt”. Of course, the debt didn’t really exist, it was all a fabrication from Lucio, who did it simply because he could. Anatole was so angry about it Milenko heard him say something which he had only heard him say for the worst kind of people: “In Balkovia, people like this get murdered for less.” He was so angry, Milenko saw his cousin do something he never did — he reminded Asra everything he had offered with his friendship, how his family had opened up for him, a home, a safe place, all of it with nothing attached. For him and for Muriel.
Nothing was attached still, Anatole wasn’t asking for retribution, he was asking for Asra to acknowledge the bond they were supposed to have, when in a time of need he could’ve used the entire weight of the Cassano to get Muriel out of it. Milenko had talked to Anatole first, caught between his friend and partner, and his cousin; Asra had wanted space anyway, so Milenko offered that to him.
One way or another, he knew better than to tell Anatole what to do. He knew his cousin like he knew the water, so all he needed to do was let him talk and nudge him, and he would come around on his own. However, the more he heard him talk, the angrier Anatole got.
“You know Muriel is everything he's got. Muriel didn’t talk about it either.”
“Muriel is the only person more hermetic than Asra, and if he doesn’t tell Asra first, he’s probably not telling anyone. Ever. Not to forget, he thinks we’re loud and weird. I just feel—”
“Stupid and you hate it?”
“So incredibly stupid.”
Milenko tried to tell Anatole it wasn’t his fault, and he meant it. Asra had to learn how to rely on others, instead of just enclosing himself so no harm ever came through his defences, nor to him, nor to his loved ones. Who better than Milenko to know.
Anatole just sounded bitter and dejected when he spoke. “He knows I can tell when he’s lying to my face, Milenko. I’m not asking him to tell me everything. He can tell me he doesn’t want to talk about something and establish a boundary, which he knows he can do. I am asking my friend not to lie to my fucking face when I can literally feel he’s lying to me.”
Milenko hated how bitterness looked on him. It was wrong. Out of place.
“I’m sorry, Nana. Maybe we should’ve all seen this sooner.”
“You saw nothing of this, didn’t you?”
Milenko sighed, being his time to sound defeated. “Yes and no. You know I can’t really control what I see. I wasn’t like it was with— with… you know—”
“Decimo?” Anatole smiled for the first time in their conversation, trying to reassure him. “You can say the name of the rat bastard, even if he doesn’t deserve to step on the same earth we do.”
“No,” Milenko said, surprising himself with how teeth-grinding angry he felt, “no he doesn’t. But what I was saying is that it wasn’t like that, when I just knew you weren’t safe. I think it’s because I’m not as close to Muriel as I am to you.”
Anatole sighed. “I think he uses protective charms. He’s never shown me much, but I’m pretty sure Muriel can do abjuration like,” Anatole clicked his cheeks, a gesture he had unknowingly copied from his friend Leonore, “better than most people we know that can.”
They sat together for a long while until Anatole said he had to go. Milenko asked him what he would do, his cousin answering with a shrug. “At this point? I am willing to do anything in my power so this slimy, little, petty tyrant eats up everything he ever did to Vesuvia, and maybe everything he’s ever done to me in Court while we’re at it. And to Aunt Cassie, and to Iovanus, and to every living person whose life he’s fucked over. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I’ll do it, whatever it takes.”
Milenko didn’t say anything. Anatole looked determined, and once Anatole was determined to see something through, he didn’t waver.
When he went back to find Asra, he was curled over himself, quietly crying. Asra felt the dent on the bed when Milenko sat in it, his cries erupting and resurfacing the moment he felt Milenko rubbing his back. The poet began humming a song for Asra, offering all the comfort he could. He was always so kind to him, he was always so loving to him; Milenko was always so good to him, and Asra was a mess. He knew better than to say anything, because after the three years and counting they’ve been together, Asra knew Milenko had very disarming arguments for that line of thought of his.
When Asra spoke again, was to ask Milenko if Anatole was angry at him.
Milenko sighed. “I think with you is more appropriate. Not for the reasons you think, though.
“What about then?” Asra asked, voice raspy through a sniffle.
“Beloved, he understands you grow at your own rate. No one is judging you or blaming you for not knowing how to deal with things, or not knowing when to reach out. He’s angry you lied to his face. Beloved, you know Anatole senses that. You know he can tell when you do it. He doesn’t care that you don’t tell him things you’re not ready to talk about, just, don’t lie to my cousin to his face.”
Milenko didn’t know what he was expecting, but Asra beginning to cry again was not it. With a lovefull sigh, he pulled his partner closer, letting Asra cling to him like an anchor to something Milenko didn’t quite understand. He knew, however, that Asra’s grief, that which he carried alone and alone only, was deep. A wound so deep it had pierced him to the very centre of his being and changed him forever.
He wanted to tell him he understood. Milenko’s first memory wasn’t a memory; it was a pit of panic ingrained in him out of something he had been told about but couldn’t really remember. He was a toddler, and the war in Balkovia was still raging on, and someone had decided Blasio, Violeta and him weren’t the right sort of people—
Yet as Asra cried himself to sleep, Milenko helping him wash his face and handing him water to drink before he finally passed out, Milenko said nothing. Something told him it was not the right thing to say and that Asra, distressed and afraid, would not appreciate it. It was through no fault of his own, though, and Milenko knew this. Trauma and loneliness were fissures which never sealed right, no matter how well one learnt to handle them. On top of that, Asra was not a great fan of confrontation, and his argument with Anatole had hit not in one but two places because Asra now didn’t just carry the fear of Muriel being hurt (which he had been, several times) or Muriel dying, but also the one of losing Anatole for this, or Anatole doing something that he wouldn’t be able to stop and getting hurt for something Asra would assume was his fault.
There had to be something tragic waiting to happen in a friendship so coloured by Romance.
Milenko couldn’t sleep, so he held Asra instead, drawing idle patterns on the magician's back as he felt his soft, sleep-heavy breath tickling his skin. For the first time in the years they’ve been together, Milenko looked at their relationship and he Saw. Again and again, Asra and him chose to walk together, a love that made Milenko feel like anywhere was a field of flowers, a love that made him feel like he would burst at the seams with it. A love so heavy, no one that young should feel it, but perhaps they felt it because they were young.
This was what the poets meant when they said Beloved, and maybe even then, when it came to him and Asra, love would not be enough.
Morning came, and at least for the morrow, Milenko chose to love Asra again. He’d deal with the rest later.
#the arcana#asraweek2021#the arcana oc#asra alnazar#asra#milenko#my writing#milasra#like thirst holds water#aelius anatole#muriel
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