Tindalostalbot

nathanandersonart:

Name: Wyvern, Wivern
Area of Origin: Medieval Europe

Wyverns are legendary winged creatures with a name derived from the Middle English word, Reven, itself derived from the Old-French word, Wivre which comes from the Latin Vipera, meaning Viper, Adder or Asp. Wyverns are very similar to that of the traditional European Dragon, though they only possess two legs as opposed to the usual four. They are generally smaller than Dragons, and while just as ferocious, they lack the grace and intelligence that their superiors usually possess. Also unlike Dragons, Wyverns do not usually have the ability to speak, and cannot breathe fire. However, they are armed with dangerous barbed tails, are sometimes attributed to having a venomous bite, and are for whatever reason, often associated with cold weather. Wyverns are also typically evil in nature, whereas Dragons are more sentient and therefore capable of good. Wyverns are fairly commonplace in heraldry, and as dragons do, seem to represent strength and valor, though not much information on their symbolism has been recorded, as other variations seem to liken the creature to disease and pestilence. 

The Horned God

From Pashupati to Cernunnos to Pachacamac

NAME: Horned God: some of whose names are Cernunnos, Pashupati, Pan, Puck, Pachacamac, Lord of the Winter, Hu Gadarn, and Belatucadros, among who knows how many others.

SYMBOLS: Horns ether set like Pan or Puck, or antlers like Cernunnos or Pashupati. For Pan, the syrinx or reed pipes. Cernunnos the Torc (female symbol) & Ram-headed snake (male symbol.)

USUAL IMAGE: A well-formed human male figure whose head bears antlers, or in the case of Pan, fixed horns and the legs of a goat.

HOLY BOOKS: N/A

HOLY DAYS: The Winter Solstice (his birth), Spring (his marriage), Summer Solstice (his death). Though this does differ from other versions and traditions

PLACE OF WORSHIP: The Wild.

RELATIVES: The Goddess.

DETAILS: Referring to the Horned God in the singular is perhaps a silly thing to do. Many male deities have as one of their aspects the possession of horns.

They can be found worldwide under dozens, if not hundreds, of names. Though all are separate entities from different and diverse people, there is, I think, enough in common to look at them as a whole. Some of these Horned Gods are:

Pashupati: This was the deer-horned god and Lord of the Animals of Northern India some 6000 years ago in what is now Pakistan. Little is known about the civilization that gave rise to the city of Magenjo Daro, and even less about the God of the region other than some images found in the area.

Pan: Here, we find not an antlered god but one with permanently fixed horns. Son of Hermes and Penelope (at least in some of the myths), Pan was never really much like the other Greek deities. The god of flocks, woods, shepherds, and the sources of the unreasoning fear that overtakes some people when confronted with the Wild that was given his name and called panic.

He would, in later years, be turned, in part, into the Christian god Satan, a character whom at no point in the Bible is ever described as being horned. Poor Pan, for once being the kidnapped one here, had this role fostered on him by monks familiar not with the panic of the wildwoods but with a different fear, that of the seriously and unhealthy sexually repressed.

Cernunnos: While many today think of this God as THE Horned God, that may be a misnomer, as it is doubtful that there was ever a group of people who referred to him by this name.

Cernunnos, by whatever names he was called, was the antlered God of the people now known as France. And there was, by no means, only one Horned God in the area! His image has also been found as far away as Denmark.

Cernunnos, which comes from the Latin horn, is the God who stands at the gateway of life and death and alternates with the Goddess in ruling over life and death. Seen as the God of fertility, life, animal wealth, and the Underworld, he is continually born and dies returning year after year.

Puck & Others: In the British Isles, home of the Druid’s horned Hu Gadarn and the horned warrior god Belatucadros the Shining One, the Horned God eventually came to be known as Puck or Robin Goodfellow, as well as the legend of Herne the Hunter and the Green Man.

No longer a god but not a being that could be gotten rid of ether. An echo of the Horned God is also perhaps found in the Arthurian legends in the figure of the Green Knight and in Caer Bannuac or Castle of Carbonek, the “Horned Castle” that was found to be the abode of the Holy Grail.

Pachacamac: However, it is not only in Asia and Europe that the Horned God is found. In Pre-Colombian Peru, we see the horned son of the Sun Pachacamac, the God of life and death. He is the deity of light, and volcanic fires and, like his far removed brothers, was said to stand at the gateway between life and death.

Further North in the land that would one day be the American Southeast, the Indians have tales, not of a horned God but a tremendous horned snake. Large enough to swallow a human whole, they also possess deer antlers and sometimes a great gem with healing properties that was lodged between these antlers.

Modern: There are still new versions of the Horned God today, such as Philip Jose Farmer’s John Stagg in the novel Flesh or the Forrest King in Princess Mononoke. As in the past examples, to name only a few.

These are only a few of the Horned Gods that are found worldwide. A personification of early man’s reverence, fear, or perhaps envy of the far mightier beasts that were a part of his daily life? Or maybe a powerful part of our Universal Unconscious that has come through in many different forms and is still being expressed anew is still as powerful as it ever was.

Wrote this years ago as something called the God/dess of the Month Club (pre-internet) and thought it was long past time I fixed it up.

I recently watched The Blues Brothers again, and I am impressed at how well the movie holds up.  Of course the musical performances are all amazing and timeless, but the performances and comedy still entertain.  There are so many memorable lines from the film, some that I had forgotten came from it.  I still get a kick out of Jake and Elwood's tiny apartment, not too far off from some of the places I stayed in NYC back in the day.

There comes a point in stories where something happens that is unexpected. A moment when something is revealed, someone is encountered, or, occasionally, there’s something so very surprising. For Tina, that’s the moment when she realizes that, when things start to go crazy, it’s a sure sign of a …

Gongshow – Part III
By TeraS

For Justin, for always …

Breakfast should always be seen as the most important meal of the day. A balance of items which, as a collection, provide the energy to start one’s day. Time spent in creating such a meal allows for conversation and the planning of what the day foretells. On this particular morning in the Realm, at a specific red-brick home with hockey themed topiary, a bemused red-tailed Aunt and her red-tailed Uncle watched a young yellow-tail dive into her sixth bowl of cereal.

Tina, of course, was completely unaware of them watching her over the rims of the mugs they held. She was in the midst of digging out the sixth hockey puck prize of the morning when Tera mused: “You sure you don’t want something else, Tina?”

There’s nothing quite like a young yellow-tail’s frump of disappointment when she discovers the prize is the same one she got from every box of Fruit Loops that morning: “Nah, thank you, Auntie.” Then Tina perked up: “This stuff is the breakfast of champions, ya’ know!”

Tera refrained from explaining that saying referred to a completely different cereal as Tina ripped off the box top, adding it to the pile she’d devoured that morning: “Two hundred and ninety-three left!”

Uncle chuckled: “Must be a very good prise.”

Tina paused in mid-munch before she continued to work on finishing off the bowl: “The best, Uncle, ‘cause it’s hockey!” That, of course, explained everything as far as Tina was concerned.

Turning to his ebon-manned niece, he continued: “Big plans for the day?”

The Queen of the Realm teased: “Oh … I have something in mind.” This did filter through to Tina as she slurped the last of her breakfast: “You’re always scheming something, Auntie.”

Tina was treated to a faux gasp of surprise from her Auntie: “Moi?” The laughter from the trio having breakfast was delightful.

Soon it was time to depart Uncle’s home, Tina running about the front lawn to be sure she got good pictures of the hockey-shaped garden to show her mom. Not that she’d ever be able to convince anyone to have that happen at home, but he was someone that loved hockey as much as she did, and that made him extra special to her. A big hug of the white-haired elder of the family and then Tina was off with Tera towards another part of the Realm.

Tina did make note that her aunt had changed to her long red jacket look that morning which suggested that wherever they were going, a hockey sweater wasn’t going to be a good choice. Fortunately, Tina did have that yellow tee of hers and she wasn’t wearing her ratty pair of jeans. She figured that would be good enough wherever they were going.

It was still really early in the morning as they passed from one side of the Realm towards the other. As the Palace appeared in the distance, Tina nibbled her lip, wondering if she should have brought along something better to wear. Hockey stuff, her mom had explained, wasn’t exactly the right thing wear for a place like that.

Their path took them right to the main gates before they passed by and Tina blew out the breath she’d been holding. Tera, of course, heard her and stopped by the main gates and placed herself to look her blue-haired niece in the eyes: “You never have to be anything but yourself. You are welcome to appear however you want there. Just because you might see me all Queen-of-the-Succubied-up does not mean you have to.”

“Yeah, but Auntie …”

Tera shared a hug: “No ‘But Auntie’s. What you are wearing isn’t as important as you, Tina. I’ll let you in on a secret: when I was your age, I ran around the palace in sneakers. You know what my dad said?” Captivated, Tina shook her head and listened to her Auntie tell the rest of the story: “Sneakers squeak when you hide. That’s the only thing he, or my mom, said about it.”

“Wish I could have met them, Auntie.”

Tera hugged her dear niece and revealed: “They would have loved you, Tina, as much as everyone in our family does, and you do meet them with every story we tell about family.” Auntie’s words about memories echoed in Tina’s mind as she held her adored Aunt and promised herself that she would remember every moment.

The next moment came soon after they continued around the corner of the palace grounds, through a small forest, and then passed by an ivy-covered sign that revealed the estate they entered. The sign didn’t really tell the story of the sprawling complex that seemed to go on forever as it came into view between the trees around them.

There were stories about the Realm Library, but they really didn’t reveal just what Tina found before her. They spoke about every book in the universe finding its way here. Every work of art, every scrap of knowledge. Tina, however, only wondered about how vast the hockey section was and where exactly it was. She had priorities, after all.

Following Tera, who Tina understood was the Head Librarian, along with all of her other roles that she seemed to enjoy, into the main entrance, she found that the interior of the library was so much larger that Tina had expected it to be. Auntie pointed out her office behind the circulation desk near the foyer, and another office close by, the nameplate a bit too far away to read. Tina couldn’t miss the carts of books waiting to be filed, a handwritten sign noting that someone named Irving was going to look after that problem.

Unsure of what exactly was going on, Tina looked at her Aunt quizzically before following her into the depths of the library proper. Passing long rows of bookcases marked with subjects on the ends, Tina wondered why they were there. Mom had mentioned that Tina really needed to see the library someday; it seemed like she could check that off of mom’s list when she came home.

As Tina followed Auntie, she could hear someone talking in the distance. She couldn’t quite make out every word, but it seemed like they were telling a story. “And when she looked about, she couldn’t find them!” Tina noticed that the bookcases had changed colour, becoming more vibrant, the decorations here and there more fun and playful than what she’d seen before. “She looked here and there and everywhere!”

They stopped at the last bookcase before what seemed to be a reading corner. Auntie guided Tina to peek around the corner and she beheld something she never expected. A group of succubi and incubi about her age were gathered around a young woman with blonde hair dressed up in what seemed to be a Little Bo-Peep costume, made of latex– because, of course, it would be in the Realm–and reading them a story as she rested on a red beanbag chair. “But she knew that they’ll come home …”

Something made Tina’s tail wrap around her right leg and then unravel to look over her right shoulder at the storyteller. Turning to Auntie, Tina started to ask a question, but stopped when Tera shook her head and turned Tina to keep watching as the storyteller waved her hand and the group sang out together: “Bringing their tails behind them!”

The story seemed to have come to a close, Tina smiled as the listeners ran up and hugged the storyteller before running off into the library. She couldn’t look away as the costume-wearing young woman stood and then Auntie called out a warm hello to her.

The young yellow-tail dropped her backpack and hockey stick when the blonde she assumed librarian turned to look at them both with wide eyes. Tina watched as she loosened the ribbon holding the oversized costume hat and drew it away to reveal her horns and a heart tipped tail worked its way out from the overflowing dress she wore, turning itself to look in Tina’s direction. Tina’s eyes began to water as she realized what she was seeing. Miss Bo-Beep was a yellow-tail just like her, but with the brightest yellow tail Tina could have ever imagined.

A mesmerized young niece heard her Auntie’s voice: “Tina, this is your cousin Miriam. Miriam, this is …” The rest of Tera’s words faded away as she watched her dear niece rush across the room and tackle her yellow tailed cousin, causing them to stumble backwards into the beanbag chair Miriam had been telling stories from moments before.

It was a moment that Tera would never forget. Two of the brightest yellow-tails ever seen in the Realm embracing and laughing knowing that they might be the rarest of all of the succubi …

… but they weren’t yellow-tails alone.

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Hovertext:
Thanks for reading, geeks. It's a book like no other, and I hope you give it a chance.

Tina’s story continues with something of a diversion this time before she encounters someone she’ll never forget. Still, she should remember that there are times when she needs to be careful about getting involved in a …

Gongshow – Part II
By TeraS

For Justin, for always…

There are those moments when one can be very sure that Tera is a bit confused. The most obvious of those is when her long, red, heart-tipped tail curves itself into a question mark. Tina’s waving of hands and her statement from moments before were such a point of reference: “How could I which now?” The young yellow-tail had retrieved her hockey stick and waved it in the general direction of her Aunt Tera, adding: “You coulda’ let me know! Geez!”

This was a bit concerting for the ebon-maned, red-tailed Aunt, who stood about a tail’s length away from her adopted niece–which is another story for another time, involving love, loss, and hope. Still, she was confused, about two horn-widths short of being confuzzled, as Tina opened her backpack and started taking things out of it, seemingly focused on finding something: “I shoulda’ known.”

Tera still had no idea what Tina was getting onto. She’d come through the portal fine, not a lock of her blue hair harmed, which would make Alisha happy. Looking about the Realm, the Queen didn’t see a thing out of place. There wasn’t a huge greeting committee waiting either, which she knew would miff the young yellow-tail. Thinking about it further, she checked herself over. Her tail looked right, ebon-mane as wild as it was meant to be. Tapping a slim finger on her lips she mused what the issue could possibly be right up to the moment when Tina yanked a blue and white hockey sweater out and waved it at her aunt.

“Here I am, wearing red, cause it’s you Auntie, and you go and wear that!”

It was at that point that Tera shook her head and a bemused smile appeared. Tina loved one particular hockey team that wore red. Tera suffered with another one that wore blue and white. Tina’s team was the Montreal Canadians. Tera’s was a different one. She’d tried to influence her hockey-loving niece to at least tolerate a team which, if she was honest, caused much pain and suffering to their fans. It seemed that suffering was something Leafs fans did enjoy. More or less. It might be a bit more complicated.

Tina pulled the red sweater off, revealing she was wearing a yellow, of course, tee beneath before it was covered up by another blue and white sweater. Tera, of course had sixty-nine on hers. Tina’s had, surprisingly, forty-two, but that was her aunt’s influence, of course.

Stuffing the red sweater away, along with the other various items that had gotten in the way of her search, Tine looked at her Auntie: “At least you didn’t go for the obvious team, Auntie.”

Tera turned her nose up and huffed: “That’s far too obvious a team. And a little suspect, don’t you think?”

Tina ran over to her favourite aunt, hugging her tightly and giggling: “You are the craziest, Auntie Tera.”

The hug was returned, with all the love Tera had for Tina: “But you love me anyway.”

Now getting a good look at her niece, the first she’d had since a particularly wild Halloween night some time ago, Tera mused: “I didn’t realize how tall you’ve gotten!”

Tina, only slightly embarrassed by her Aunt, mumbled: “Must be the six boxes of Fruit Loops every morning.”

Tera smirked: “Hockey prize?”

Tina’s excitement was palatable: “Two hundred and ninety-nine box tops and I’ll get a pair of goalie nets!”

Tera wasn’t about to explain to her hyper-focused niece that it would have been somewhat less expensive to just buy them. The yellow-tail did tend to get blinders on when focused on a goal: “Of course. How silly of me.”

Slipping out of Tera’s hug, Tina asked as she retrieved her backpack and stick: “So, you gonna spill whatcha’ got planned?”

Tera wagged a finger at her in return: “Where’s the fun in that?”

Nibbling on the inside of her lip, Tina mulled over the “fun” Auntie and her daughters Branwyn and Rianna had with her that one Halloween night before asking: “So where’s Rina and Branny?

Tera tilted her head to the right: “That would be …”

There were very few that could bring Tera to pause, and Tina’s sigh did that: “Telling. Yeah, I know, Auntie. You are such a tease.”

Turning away and waving at Tina to follow, the Queen of the Realm replied to her adored niece: “First in my class, I’ll have you know.”

Tina didn’t doubt that in the least. Auntie was the best, and she adored Tera more than she thought her aunt knew. As the pair left the portal behind and walked through the Realm, Tina talked about how things were at home, asked about Uncle Keith and the rest of the family here in the Realm, among other things.

Tina understood that her aunt was the Queen, but that really didn’t matter much to the young yellow-tail. Still, she wasn’t completely out of touch, and she noticed as they passed into the busier parts of the Realm how others would wave or call out Tera’s name, asking for a moment of her time. Tera could have just done so, and Tina would understand that it was part of her aunt being the Queen, of course.

What happened was Tera asked if her niece would be okay with stopping here and there before they got to their destination. Her aunt wanted Tina to know that this was their time first. The young blue-haired member of the succubi twinned her tail with her aunt’s and explained that she didn’t mind at all. It might have been the single most influential thing Tina had ever done. Watching her aunt give her time to those who need her, sharing her wisdom, her love, and most of all her thanks to each soul of the Realm she encountered, offered a sliver of knowledge. There was nothing more important than family to Tera.

Eventually, after picking up an apple pie, and a hot chocolate for Tina, the pair left the bustle of the Ream in their wake. Soon Tina beheld a sight she had heard of, but never had seen before. The reasonably sized red brick house that appeared at the bottom of a cul-de-sac drew Tina’s attention as they approached. Not the home itself, mind you, but the various shrubbery in front that she was mesmerized by.

Tina loved hockey, but this was someone that was one step beyond that. A bush trimmed into a hockey puck. Two others into a hockey stick and a goalie stick. The one that looked like a goalie mask made her tail twitch. She had no idea how the heck the gardener had made that one work. She was in the middle of trying to take a picture of one shrub that had been trimmed to look like that cartoon character she’d been trying to get the answer for on the cereal box quiz when a slightly gruff voice caught her by surprise. Tina found herself in the presence of an elderly, red-tailed member of the incubi with shockingly white hair leaning on a silver cane: “Those eyebrows never look right.”

Tina would have disagreed, but she didn’t know him well. Tera did, however: “Oh, I think it’s your best work. The smile especially. How did your team do today?”

He chuckled: “They won. It might have something to do with these two succubi I find in my garden wearing their jersey.” Tina made a mental note to be sure when, not if, she visited again, she’d be wearing the right jersey.

“Uncle, I’d like to introduce you to Tina, your great-grandniece.”

A bit overwhelmed, Tina didn’t quite know what to say, which was a really rare thing for her. The eldest of them offered: “Your aunt has told me many stories about you Tina.”

“Um. Good things I hope?”

Tina would always remember his laughter in reply and the afternoon that followed in his living room, hearing his stories … including the embarrassing ones about Auntie that revealed Auntie was a bit of a troublemaker at Tina’s age. It was sometime later, after they both enjoyed the apple pie with him and Tera went off to put away the leftovers and clean up, that he offered her some wisdom. “Do you realize how special you are, Tina?”

This was the sort of talk that Tina didn’t like. Too many of the succubi and incubi that met her treated her like a cute little kid. She shrugged: “Not really anything special. I’m just me.”

She could hear him scraping the tip of the cane on the wood floor: “You sound very much like your Aunt.”

The cup of hot chocolate held Tina’s attention: “I wish.”

“Oh, I think you are, more than you realize. You have so much promise. You’ll see and do things we can’t imagine.” At this Tina perked up and paid close attention. Tera said something similar, as did Rianna that one Halloween. He continued: “Don’t be in a rush to get to your future. It’ll be there when you get there.”

Tina mulled that over: “Auntie said once that we are our memories.”

“Your Auntie is a wise soul.”

Tera quietly watched from the hallway as Tina hugged Uncle, telling him: “Hope I can make her proud of me someday.”

It turned out that Tina’s favourite team was playing that night and the day closed with Tina munching on popcorn and cheering her team on with her Aunt and great-granduncle. The game went into overtime, her team won, but the day had finally caught up with the usually slightly hyper yellow-tail. A spare room soon held a barely-awake young member of the succubi and her Auntie tucking her in for the night. Tina couldn’t help the yawn: “What are ya’ planning tomorrow?”

Tera kissed Tina’s forehead: “Take over the world?”

“Sure, Auntie. Love you.”

“Love you always…” Tera turned out the lights and left her niece to dream about what the future would hold. If Tina knew who she’d see tomorrow however, she’d have been up all night …

… bouncing off the walls …

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The post Who’s the real Miss Match? appeared first on Evil Inc.

Morrigan Aensland by KAYA

As found at:

https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/83984692

For more information, and an ALT text version of the official prompt graphic and a text version of the prompts, see the accompanying post below!

Guest post by Steph Hooton

Compared to other professions, there aren’t a lot of books available in communication design. So, as a communication design practitioner, whenever I come across an interesting volume, I buy it. Over the years, after visiting countless new and used book stores, antique stores, and library, estate, and yard sales, I’ve managed to accumulate quite a few volumes — over five thousand, in fact.

While I didn’t plan on owning a personal library, it’s proven to be indispensable — and a challenge to organize. So, a few years ago, I decided to copy the experts and arrange my library according to the Dewey Decimal Classification system. This worked out great at the beginning, but as I worked through my holdings, I discovered that many communication design works were assigned to numbers scattered across the entire breadth of the DDC system, that no particular area within the DDC system had the depth of numbering needed to classify them, and that a significant portion of the DDC system’s communication design nomenclature was outdated, archaic, or incomplete. 

Given the fact that communication design as we know today didn’t exist when the DDC was created, and coupled the dramatic growth and evolution the field gone through over the past several decades, these circumstances weren’t too surprising. But, what to do? Well, since information design and typographic hierarchy are inherent disciplines my field, I set aside my shelving and got to work figuring out what was needed. Then, even though I’d always thought of the DDC system as firmly established and constant, I reached out and asked OCLC if they might be open to making some updates.

Their response was immediate, professional, gracious, welcoming, and positive. I was invited to contribute my ideas and work with OCLC experts. What followed has been over five years of extraordinary collaboration: objective, wide-ranging research; careful, thoughtful analysis; and respectful, professional advancement in documenting, planning, and updating the information architecture for communication design within the DDC system. 

To anyone shelving books in a library, thinking “this book really belongs in that section over there,” I recommend sending your insights and suggestions to OCLC. Your contribution will be appreciated, and may help people all over the world have better organizational access to knowledge.

For myself, I look forward to continued collaboration with OCLC, and to resuming the shelving of my publications — this time, in their newly built homes.

Click here to go see the bonus panel!

Hovertext:
Tolkien ends up in Heaven but is secretly disappointed Valhalla wasn't available.

It’s the 2nd annual #ClassicsTober starting TOMORROW!

It was so inspiring and exciting to see all your writing, photos, artwork and more last year, and Dr Cora Beth and I can’t wait to see what this year will yield…

Here’s the prompt graphic – please save and share it if you’re taking part! (Remember to add Alt Text if you can please!)

It was such a fantastic ride last year! Please do join in – it doesn’t have to be drawing! Any medium, including video, poetry, photography, or even selections from ancient texts and tablets, is welcome! And it doesn’t have to be Greece or Rome – any Ancient Med culture is welcome! (I like to learn please)

Remember to share your posts with the #ClassicsTober hashtag across social media (Instagram and Twitter particularly) so everyone can see! Add ALT text wherever you can!

ClassicsTober for Schools!

Our friend Charlie at Maximum Classics has developed ClassicsTober into a drawing challenge for schools! Each day’s word prompt will have background information to inspire art or just read for interest. You can read all about it here, and join in with your classes!

https://maximumclassics.com/classics-tober-22/

Prompts:

Here are the prompts in text format so you can copy and paste them into a .doc or your Notes or however you like to keep information handy!

1. Coin
2. Script
3. Three
4. Threshold
5. Knowledge
6. Bough
7. Katabasis
8. Octopodes
9. Feat
10. Psyche
11. Priestess
12. Simile
13. Serpentine
14. Luna
15. Monument
16. Nekiya
17. Bronze
18. Vine
19. Warrior
20. Transformation
21. Cult
22. Mother
23. Pathos
24. Idol
25. Lamp
26. Bacchanalia
27. Epithet
28. Ancestor
29. Return
30. Offering
31. Sarcophagus

Ready? Set… GO!

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Hovertext:
Still less bad than the tentacle-fork.

Sublime Succubus by sirkrozz

As found at:

https://www.deviantart.com/sirkrozz/art/Fanart-Sublime-Succubus-853048852

A birthday came and went a short time ago, actually two of them within a couple of days of each other, but I’m going to focus on one this week and the other next week. There are some gifts that are far more precious than others. They have no monetary value, they cannot be bought or sold. After all, one cannot trade away …

Friendship
By TeraS

For DC

There are many constants in the universe of which scientists are well aware. Mathematical formulas of various sorts that progress into expected results of experiments that confirm observed phenomena. Such things point the observer towards the expectation of instance A being followed by action B and so forth.

Some of these well-understood points can be connected, if in ways that really make little sense when considered fully, but still exist as they do. Take, for example, the seemingly stereotypical trope of some scientists of a particular focus whom are generally found in environments where there is one particular sort of weather which comes to call more often than most. At least one would assume that to be the case, especially in the tropics. A zone wherein one expects sunshine, warm weather, and suitable conditions for lounging about to get a tan.

One does not expect an island, promoted as being perfect for the installation of one’s research lab, having a history of better than ninety-nine per cent sunny days, becoming something a bit less than that soon after moving in and getting the last piece of equipment installed: significantly less; thunderstorms and lighting, very, very frighteningly less; hailstorms and hurricanes the order of the day less.

The odd thing was, if you were lucky enough to be positioned on one of the archipelagos nearby, you’d wonder why that one specific island was getting a rather unfair amount of rainfall not on a yearly but a dally basis. You’d also be quite happy that it wasn’t your problem but someone else’s.

“We seriously need to look into making a weather control machine, Doc. Can you do it?” The question asked by a somewhat miffed assistant by the name of Ivana held a bit of a whine of frustration in it. She enjoyed fiddling with her creations in her lab, a side benefit of working for a scientist who tended to be wrapped up in his own creations and missed the obvious, such as her standing nearby, dripping wet from the rainstorm that had positioned itself directly over the sundeck and pool she’d insisted on when they signed the paperwork for this tropical delight. One of these days she’d remember to ignore the forecast on her phone and remember who she worked for.

“Oh? Seems fine to me.”

She squeezed the water out of her hair for the fifth time, the puddle growing beneath her: “Sure, if you’re a duck … or a fish.”

Doc looked up from his work bench and considered the vision before him for a long moment before replying: “The paperboy doesn’t seem to have a problem with it.”

“The paperboy delivers by submarine. How much do you pay him anyway?”

“I have a lifetime subscription. Not my problem how he does it.”

She shook her head, a spray of water adding to the puddle with a ring of water around it: “Probably explains why the printed papers are going out of fashion. Why don’t you get it online?”

“I paid for a lifetime of papers being thrown at the front door and that’s what I’m going to get.”

“You ever read them?”

Turning back to the device resting in something close to a million pieces on the countertop the Doc shrugged: “Not really, but they make good fire starters for the fireplace.”

Walking off, Ivana didn’t remind the Doc they didn’t actually have a fireplace. They had a volcano, and she wasn’t about to tempt fate with that there. Bad weather was enough to deal with. The thought of having to deal with lava flowing through her workshop was just not something she wanted to consider.

Doc, in the meantime, was poking away at his latest creation, mulling over whether the blue wire should be connected or the red one first. He’d just touched the blue one with tweezers when there was a loud crash outside and decided better of it. Mother Nature might be trying to tell him something. Or maybe it was some other deity. Or it might just be a complete coincidence. One could never tell, after all.

The knocking sound that followed a moment later suggested that someone was trying to get his attention. Pushing away from the workbench, he mused: “Odd. Can’t be the paperboy, not his style.”

What he discovered when he opened the door to the patio was a very familiar ebon-maned woman with red horns and a long heart-tipped tail. Wearing a red, of course, bikini, and soaking wet. “Tera?”

“Good afternoon, Doc. Lovely weather you’re having.”

Peering at the shower of hailstones moving across the bay, he winced: “You weren’t caught in that, I hope?”

“No, but would you terribly mind if I came inside before that delight gets here? Hailstones are … not fun … especially in a bikini.”

Moving to the side, he watched his dear friend lug a large carryall inside with her: “Why are you wearing that, anyway?”

“I’ve come to realize that either you are the focus for bad weather around the world, or you have ticked off Mother Nature in some way. Given that you moved to this lovely island, I assumed one of two things.” He couldn’t help the smile as she continued walking down the hall and then ducked into a side room. He closed the door, as a gentleman should. “It might, possibly, be sunny, which meant I could try to work on a tan. The more likely possibility was that it would be raining and, as I have been soaked every time I visit, the bikini at least would deal with that.”

“Did it?”

The sound of a hairdryer answered that question. Hopefully her hair survived the ordeal. She was so particular about that, after all; those who messed with her hair didn’t fare well. When she opened the door, he reminded himself not to talk about it. The frizzies were really bad.

Brushing the flattering–red, of course–dress into place and slipping a pair of red heels on, she mused: “More or less, mostly less.” The look in her eyes was a bit of a dare for him to comment on her hair, but that quickly turned to a wink and the two friends shared a welcoming hug. “So, all moved in I see. Ivana is well I hope?”

“She was outside earlier. In the pool, I think.”

“Seriously? With that weather?”

“She mentioned something about the forecast being for sunny skies.”

“Uh-huh. Wouldn’t trust the weatherman unless he was going on vacation. Seems to be the only time they are right.”

A very odd, echoey voice interrupted their repartee: “They never are.”

The voice itself was concerning. More so was the sight of Ivana floating about three feet off the ground, her hair wildly moving in all directions with sparks of lightning coming from the tips. What sealed it was the next words, and the lightning that was sent in their direction: “It’s not nice to fool with Mother Nature.”

If there was one thing that Tera had learned from being friends with the Doc, it was to get to cover first and figure things out after. Grabbing him by the hand and making for a really awful-looking made-in-the-seventies sofa nearby, the pair dove out of sight as the lightning left scorch marks on the floor around them.

Tera started ticking off points on her fingers as the lightning bolts continued to sail over their heads: “Let’s see. Transformed into a bimbo, mind controlled by a computer, abducted by aliens, and now possessed by Mother Nature. You have that on your bingo card?”

Doc had managed to peek over the edge of the sofa before ducking down again: “Tera, I promise you, I have no idea why she’s so mad!”

“Ivana or Mother Nature?”

“Both!”

Having no other options, Tera did the only thing she could think of and from behind the couch: a heart-tipped tail appeared waving a white flag. “Hey! Time out!”

Surprisingly the lightning stopped. The forces of nature at least respected a white flag: “Give him up and we’ll be on our way.”

Peeking over the edge of the sofa herself, the colour of it being an affront to taste, Tera asked: “Why?”

“Why what?”

“What do you want with the Doc.”

“He’s been interfering with me.”

“How?”

She waved a hand wildly outside: “Have you seen the weather outside? This is the one place on Earth that I can’t make the weather do my bidding. He has to be doing something!”

Tera considered this for a moment, her tail moving slowly behind her: “So far as I am aware, he’s never tinkered with anything to do with the weather.”

“He must have! How do you explain all that?”

Tera had to admit, looking outside, that snow in the tropics was a bit odd.

Doc had gotten to his feet and drew in the sight of Ivana possessed, hovering in mid-air with lightning bolts pouring away from her body and striking all over the room: “I don’t do weather control. It’s not my thing.”

The Doc was a bit surprised when Tera took his hand: “I believe him.”

“Why would you?”

“Because he’s my friend and I trust him. And he’s been dealing with the bad weather around him for as long as I’ve known him. Now, can we please try to find a solution instead of you hurting the both of them?”

This actually caused the threatening deity to take pause: “Wherever he goes, the bad weather goes to him. He has to be responsible.”

Taking the path of, she hoped, least resistance, Tera asked: “You’ve possessed Ivana. Does she have any proof Doc’s into weather control?”

It always bemused Tera when a deity admitted it were wrong: “Well. No.”

Moving from behind the couch, the colour still bothering her, Tera continued: “Okay, so let’s take it as true that he’s not responsible. Any idea how we can fix this?”

The silence offered Doc a chance to put his two cents in: “It might the curse of being a mad scientist.”

Both Tera’s and what was definitely Ivana’s voices replying in unison made him blush: “You are many things, but you are anything but evil, Doc.”

The smirk that Ivana possessed–being possessed, mind you–seemed to convey that Mother Nature night be a little less miffed at him: “I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Eris messed up. She’s far too literal for her own good, busybody that she is.”

Pointing a finger at Doc, with sparks of lighting flickering in the space between them all, she continued: “You seem like a good man and there’s only one way to fix this. I’ll trust you to continue to be so.”

Before either of them could answer, there was a snap of electricity being discharged into the air as the lightning vanished, and Ivana’s limp body started to fall towards the floor. She, however, didn’t make it there, as the Doc managed to catch her rather nude body before she did so.

Tera could plainly see Doc was very uncomfortable in that moment and helped him to lay Ivana on the still so very wrong-coloured sofa to rest. Finding a blanket, and covering Ivana with it, Tera asked: “Better?”

Doc nodded as he held Ivana’s hand with concern: “Just hope she’s okay. Good friends are hard to find.”

Tera noted that Doc seemed oblivious to Ivana’s hair turning shockingly platinum, or her body growing just that little bit more in her curves. But then the Doc was a decent soul and really that was all that mattered.

It was just a bit after the latest afternoon snowstorm hit, turning the skies black and frosting the window, that Tera was peering out of when Ivana woke up and looked at her now very blue fingernails: “What the heck just happened?”

Turning, Doc was surprised by Ivana’s now sky-blue eyes and asked: “Are you okay?”

“I feel really weird.”

Tera had in the meantime crossed over to the pair: “That’s one way to express being Mother Nature’s avatar.”

“I’m what now?”

“It seems that She’s decided that the best way to deal with the pair of you being the focus of the bad weather on Earth is to make you, dear Ivana, her avatar. Congratulations, I think.” Tera found herself the focus of Ivana’s very odd blue eyes and shrugged: “Wasn’t my idea. You were the one that got possessed by her. She must like you.”

The Doc offered a comforting smile: “Must be nice to have a friend like that.”

Ivana squeezed his hand as she sat up, the blanket revealing she was draped in a very sheer robe of white: “I’m happy with the friends I have.”

Her two friends helped her to stand and then Tera guided them all to the window she’d been looking out of moments before: “Okay, Miss Avatar. This is really bad weather for sunbathing. How about you try changing it?”

Ivana shook her head, her now pixie-cut platinum hair tossing about: “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.” Waving a hand at the storm outside she continued: “Snow and rain go away, come again some other day?”

The snow starting to ebb and the sun beginning to peek through the clouds was a pleasant surprise. Ivana looked at the pool below, sunlight beginning to ripple off the waves: “This is just so weird.”

The Doc mused with a smile as he looked towards his two dear friends: “Oh, give it five minutes, the weather will change.”

Tera just smiled. It might well do so, but their cherished friendship never would.

318 Herald Kitty

The truth of one’s desire is not what one expects it to be. You might think you know or believe you have an inkling of that which would sooth your soul. Perhaps it is more right to say that, when the dream is fully revealed, you can seek the way toward …

Becoming
Part IX
By TeraS

For Morgane

The knocking at my door sends me into a panic. I have wings! Horns and a tail! I can’t let anyone see me like this, let alone open the door and reveal myself to those I know are there. The panic rises and I hug myself, trying to calm myself. I don’t know what to do. Shaking my head, I murmur to myself, the panic starting to overcome my thoughts, burying them beneath the emotions that seek to control me.

It’s the touch of her fingertips against my cheek that pulls me out of the stupor. There’s a battle within myself between the need to look at her and the thought that she’s disappointed in me. I hear her speaking, assuring me that everything is fine. I want to believe that, but the knocking is more insistent than it was before.

When she leaves me and walks towards the door, the panic overcomes me. I think of others discovering us, what that will mean to our kind. She’s almost touching the doorknob when I reach her. Words aren’t needed, the fear in my eyes is plain to see, the tears blind me as she cups my cheeks and shares a chaste kiss. She asks me if I trust the dream. My answer is so very small, seemingly lost in my room. Then she opens the door. I expect the off-blue walls of the hallway, one of my roommates standing there waiting for me. That’s not what I see.

I recognize the mist as it rolls into my room, I see the familiarity of the deep blue skies and hints of sunbeams entering. I’m frightened and exhilarated by the revelation. Her sinuous red tail moves to catch my attention, the tip beckoning towards the book open behind us, almost forgotten. I’m loathe to let go, but I do, the book in my hands as I turn towards her to find she isn’t alone.

There are so many before me, some close to the door, others trailing off into the mists and mysteries beyond. Wings, horns and tails of every colour of the spectrum catch my eye. I know them from a dream, part of the dream that holds my soul. Multitudes waiting for me to join them, add to the collective wonders, delights, and dreams shared.

The edge of the doorway leads into the rolling clouds of my dreams. I stand on the edge with her, hearing the voice of those who came before me and those who will follow, the promise made by my soul being made by all those I see playing among the clouds: “We will catch you.”

She touches the tip of my nose with her finger before passing into the dream, calling my name and daring me to catch her if I can. I see her joining those like us who hold the dream and the dreamers. The dream has my soul, but I have the dream’s as well. We call out to each other, the desire of the dream making me laugh in a joy I haven’t known before.

I leap away from the portal, yet I do not fall as my wings catch the air and send me soaring. The clouds rush by as I pass from the world I have known to the world awaiting. I can hear the laughter and joy of the family I’ve been seeking, the love of myself that was out of reach for so long.

I’ve found what my soul was seeking in the dream: a home.

—————

And so a dreamer becomes the Dream…

You may be asking, Dave, what the hell is that accent? It’s a fair question. It started off as this guy from Robocop 2. But then my brain thought, “But what about King Willie from Predator 2?” That guy didn’t just steal the scene, he was arguably the best part of the movie. Note the lack of automatic subtitles in that clip, cause the voice to CC algorithm was too busy cracking up at Willie. “About the one that’s doing all the killing, I am.” CC Algo was like “I need whatever that dude is smoking.” Honestly, Predator 2 was a pretty solid movie. Yes, it had one or two really dumb scenes, but the movie did supply all the AvP games with 90% of the Predator’s arsenal.

Anyway, some people in the comments were under the impression that Max’s top speed was Mach 5, but I’ve no idea where that came from. Sydney’s top speed was Mach 4, until she bought her speed upgrade on the Alari homeworld. When she got back, she tried to tease Max about maybe being the fastest one of the team. To paraphrase Max’s response, “Hmm. Maybe.”

I’m not sure what her actual travel time is going to be though. She doesn’t have her Stratosphere travel kit on her. Max can actually hold her breath for a very long time – what she’s actually doing is using her power pool internally to break up the carbon dioxide and eek out some more O2 time, but it’s not efficient, and takes more and more power the longer she does it. So Max will have to watch out for commercial air traffic at times, though she knows especially around cities and costal regions she can climb a dozen kilometers for a few minutes.

The August Vote Incentive is still up!

Okay, so here’s the deal. I haven’t finished the new one, but I have a fairly good reason. My mom is having some health issues, so I’ve driven down to spend a week with my parents to help out and give my dad a bit of a break. I took all my drawing stuff with me so I can work in the meantime, but it’s a little tricky to work on certain types of art. I’m set up in the open very plan kitchen/living room so I’m close by if needed.

Everyone knows that anyone who can draw has definitely drawn naked boobs. Doesn’t matter if the artist is a tweenage girl, a gay guy… okay maybe not a 5 year old, but anyone 3 seconds after puberty has started has drawn boobs. We all understand this. However, there’s a big difference between intellectually understanding this, and me airbrushing areola detail zoomed in on my 27″ screen ten feet from my mom. So there will be a nudie vote incentive this month, but unfortunately, it will be another week. Also unfortunate that it’s not themed something serendipitous like “The Blue Ball Special.” Not sure what that incentive would look like. Cora could do the blue boob special. Maybe Sciona. Hmm, do I need more blue women in the comic? Oh! Detla! Yes…

Double res version will be posted over at Patreon. Feel free to contribute as much as you like.

The Playset is now 6 years old, and to celebrate this year I’ve updated it, with a beautiful colour layer – no longer must your playset be in black and white and/or have to be coloured in – and an additional 20 characters… yes, including Paris (at last! Sorry!)

The Playset was originally made as a last-minute add-on to my successful Trojan War Playing Cards Kickstarter campaign and, as such, was made in a bit of a hurry, so some of the characters have also now been resized or redesigned. Each character also now has a brief description of their role or loyalties in the war underneath. The Achaians (Greeks) have a colour scheme of red and yellow, with the Trojans in blue and yellow, so this should be clearer on the battlefield.

New characters from the Iliad and associated stories in the Epic Cycle are:

• Artemis
• Agenor
• Helenos
• Iphigeneia
• Theano
• Kalchas
• Machaon
• Ajax (the Lesser)
• Creusa
• Laodike
• Antenor
• Odysseus (yes, how did I miss him the first time?!)
• PARIS (ditto)

If you’ve previously purchased the Trojan War Playset, you can get the updated version for free!

• If you bought from Gumroad, look out for an email/Gumroad message with the new files attached

• If you bought from Etsy, please forward your order email to me at greekmythcomix@gmail.com and I’ll send you the files as soon as I can (because Etsy is a bit rubbish)

If you haven’t got a copy, you can get it as an instant download by going to my shop and choosing your preferred digital outlet!

This weekend I’ll be doing a ‘Trojan war Buildalong’ on my social media accounts (@greekmythcomix on Twitter and Instagram) so please feel free to join in if you decide to build your own, using the hashtag #TrojanWarBuildalong !

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This past week held my Eternal’s birthday, which was the focus for this story series, of course. Gifts, presents, and all the trappings that come with the date in question are delightful, without question. They express the joy, the delights, and something more important. But then our love is …

Eternal – Part V
By TeraS

There are many delights that my Eternal creates that I adore. Some of my most wonderful memories are of him in the midst of bringing to reality the recipes from pages of books containing their secrets. Some others bring a naughty smile as I recall the diversions that drew him away from his task and into a different sort of delight shared.

I’ve learned many things from my Eternal’s talents in cooking and other more complex engagements. But with all he’s done, there is one recipe dear to me that was not of his making. That’s not to say that when he creates this particular delight himself that I’m not delighted, that a little nibble isn’t enough to bring me to purr from the pleasure I feel.

This particular wonder was something I hadn’t been fully aware of, at least not in a dessert means as a whole. It’s a word that brings with it a certain expectation in the Realm, an expected result, usually involving RediWhip or some other passion enhancing edible delight. The Realm can be rather singular in focus from time to time–not that’s a bad thing, of course.

I know that others in the Realm will be bringing their delights, inspired by his talents, to our gathering today. Auntie was especially focused on making things come to pass, to be sure that the lessons my Eternal has taught, the delights he has shared, are a part of the celebrations. I have no question that he will be delighted by the creations, more so that they are shared by all as such things are meant to be.

This really isn’t about him, or so he rationalizes. It’s about our family coming together, to share, to tell stories, to express this moment of being together so that being together is what matters. The memories that come will settle into our collective memories, to be recalled in the future, to bring a smile, laughter and more. The sharing is what matters, save for one specific treat that is meant for him and I alone.

The hardest thing about this particular creation is keeping him out of my hair, horns, and tail while bringing this delight to reality. He knows what’s going on, of course; he can smell the baking, hear the mixer, see the utensils in the dishwasher. It’s not a surprise when he comes into the kitchen and muses if I might need some assistance. That, of course, results in my being ‘distracted’ for quite some time, and those distractions are never a bother, only adding to the delight.

His birthday this year was everything we hoped for. Simone’s cupcakes were wonderful, the tails where especially well done. Cassie’s brownies were amazing, what few I could try–there were a lot of firefighters who kept returning to sample them, for some reason. The ice cream my dearest daughters brought was perfect; one taste and I remembered where that came from easily. There were so many that arrived with their own creations to share that we had to bring more tables out to hold them all.

Lil making an appearance was, I think, the real birthday surprise. She didn’t venture out of her cottage often, and to see her in the midst of our gathering meant so much to Keith, I could tell. She’d brought cookies with her to share with all and was the centre of attention, being adored by everyone, which was wonderful to see. The small metal tin, which I assumed held cookies, given to Keith as a present, seemingly meant something that I would ask him about later.

Simone had wanted a day we’d all remember. It was that and more. From morning to dusk we all celebrated with my Eternal. After all of the celebration, the love, the delight of family coming together, there’s still one final gift to be shared. One that’s meant for two Eternals to share. The gift that’s given from one Eternal to another for always.

This day means something more than a birthday, however. The love given to make all we have reality. The impossible made real, the odds beaten, what was expected to be proven wrong. We are reminded of a simple truth as we share the delight together. A mother’s love is eternal, our love is eternal, celebrated on this day and every day together.

The recipe shared by the one who made all of this possible so long ago is but a hint of it all. She loved baking. I knew that from the first moment we met: the time spent in her kitchen waiting for something to be ready, the stories she’d tell, how open she was with me. While she loved baking, it paled in comparison to her love of family, of her son, and of a daughter brought into her love. We speak of the passion red-tails put into everything they create, how it expresses their love. I know she wasn’t a red-tail, but she was. It was just her horns and tail were invisible to us all. Her soul wasn’t.

She loved one recipe above all others, one dessert that expressed her better than anything she’d create from that handwritten, red-cover notebook of hers. The name of this particular temptation always made me smile, and I think she knew full well why I’d be smiling throughout the mixing and baking and all of the moments along the way. It amused her when she’d talk about using various toppings like chocolate sauce or RediWhip, seeing my lips quirk in reply. She really would have been a wonderful red-tail. Her son proves that effortlessly with the love we have.

I’d thought that she’d not been really aware of my nature, the delights which my Eternal shares with me. I still remember her wink as she offered me the first slice we created together: “There’s more than one kind of cheesecake, you know.”

While the day was for all, this evening is for us alone. The dress he loves adorns me, my smile offering a hint of what delights I have planned. The cheesecake awaits on the table, the red cloth beneath framing it just so. He enters to find the Queen of the Realm awaiting her King. Words aren’t needed as he nestles with me, arms around my waist, hands lightly holding me. One of my own pulling him towards my cheek, his whispers of love sending goosebumps everywhere. I part my lips to tease that the cheesecake is waiting for us both.

The cheesecake was especially wonderful, in every way, this year …

KeithS and TeraS by Pitoxlon

There are some truths that cannot be set aside. It’s not so much a question of what was, but rather what will, not might, come to pass. The Goddess doesn’t simply tell one what should be remembered. A soul should know what matters most is …

Eternal – Part IV
By TeraS

Simone is very much like her sister, though she’d never admit to that being true. When she visits, I can see so much of Tera’s mother there, the strength they both held in defending the Realm and putting the pieces into place which eventually brought about what we have now.

The Receptionist is a delight in many ways, passionate red-tails are, of course, as well I know. She’s also something of a bother when an idea settles into her thoughts; that’s another aspect of the family she shares with her sister and nieces. The bemused smile appears, an offhand question is asked, and before you know it she’s gotten her way. Come to think of it, that might be the fault of my own personality being passed down through the generations.

Still, this is a particularly good idea, I have to admit, and the red-tailed King of the Realm being the target brings my own bemused smile. He is an absolute pleasure, of course, but there are many pleasures beyond that which our kind are expected to enjoy. Goddess has mused that I’m happiest when the red-tailed Eternals visit, and she’s right in that. Every visit brings passion and love in all of their forms.

Sometimes I call them to me, whispering for them to return, sharing pleasures of the heart and soul. Leaving them entwined together, no memories of Lilith, for that would never do. Other times they come to visit on their own, to see Lil, knitter of the Realm, and have a pleasant afternoon and evening. At least that’s what they remember; my own memories are somewhat more encompassing.

They’d visited before Simone, just stopping by to drop off a gift, one that had been given with every visit from the first. Peeking inside the basket, I remember the first time I met him. The Realm knows him from the instant he appeared at Tera’s side, taking his place with her, his horns and tail matching her own. My first memories are different.

I felt him arrive with our red-tailed Queen-to-be. A mere human, I thought at first, watching from afar. I saw the beacon of light their souls cast over the Realm and didn’t quite believe. For a time, they remained together and then, to my surprise, I felt his first steps upon the path leading to my cottage.

He came alone, a frail human intruding upon my domain. A simple cast of my power and the storms rolled in, the winds and rain came to dissuade him. They didn’t. No matter the wind, the cold or rain, he pressed on. Curious about this human, it was nothing to stand within a tail’s length and watch him unseen. I expected to see determination, the typical male drive to overcome, and little else. Touching his soul, I had to pull away. He didn’t care about himself. His thoughts were of my safety and of his Eternal. I’ve rarely felt shame. Knowing his soul and the truth within brought me to tears covered by the rains.

He arrived as the storms howled, knocking at my door. I never asked what he expected. He found a somewhat older red-tailed member of the succubi with ebon-hair deeper than that of his Eternal’s, highlighted with silver here and there. She had blue eyes deeper than his own and was beautiful to behold, but I knew full well that his Eternal came first then and always would. The rains were pouring off him as he asked: “Hello Lil, are you alright?”

My answer was unsure as he expected it to be: “The roof isn’t leaking. And you are . . . ?”

His deference was very clear: “My name is Keith. I’m Tera’s beloved, my Lady.”

To my surprise, he offered a metal tin: “I was hoping to visit, if you’d allow? I brought cookies to share.”

How could I say no? Even without knowing his soul, I could see the earnest expression, the wish to speak with me. Inviting this young human into my home was only being polite. It turned out to be more than I expected.

I admit that I love the intimacy we have shared, but this first encounter, this first tentative talk between us, didn’t fully express everything. It opened the door to more than either of us expected. It was some time later, after he’d dried out by the fireplace and we’d been sharing my tea and his cookies, that he asked a question I wasn’t prepared for: “May I ask for your blessing Lilith?”

Catching me off guard I blurted: “How did you know?”

“Tera explained there is not one succubi named Lilith, save for the First, and yet here you are: Lil, the knitter; Lil, the wise teacher; Lilith, who watches her children from afar.”

He was surprisingly perceptive.

The question had to be asked: “What do you want from me?”

He surprised me, and still continues to do so: “Nothing. Through you, my first love and my Eternal love were born. My dreams came to be with their first hellos. I only wish to make Tera happy as the Queen she is. Whatever she wishes, I will provide. Her dreams I will help to make real. I owe you everything we have. I’ll be forever grateful to you. I want you to know that as long as I live.”

He kissed my hand and then started to leave, but my tail wrapped around his left wrist stopped him: “Please.”

Those blue eyes of his were curious as I explained: “You will not remember any of this.”

“But you will.”

I surprised myself with the love in my word: “Forever.” I remember cupping his cheek and breathing my blessing into his soul: a gift given eternally for their love and my eternal thankfulness. Two score passes of the silver moon in the sky later, I allow him to leave both my lessons and my delight, and he begins to return to the Realm below.

From the window, I regarded him picking his way along the path, stopping here and there to remove a broken tree branch or other bit of flotsam that the storms deposited along the way. I wondered what the Queen of the Realm would think when her Eternal returned with red tail and horns. Two dreams completed and soon to be revealed to the Realm at large. The thought amused me to no end. I expected it would become legendary: how the King-to-be disappeared and returned as the red-tailed King-he-was-meant-to-be.

The clouds had broken, the blue sky beginning to peek through when a sunbeam fell through the window beside me, her voice not at all a surprise: “What are you thinking?”

My sight did not waver from him–Goddess can be so irritating when she’s proud of herself, but the truth could not be ignored–“He looks… right.”

It was a thought I didn’t expect: A young human soul, eternally in love, but willing to share all he was to make anything possible for our kind, to make his eternal love’s dream complete, but more than that. My own dream came true because of him.

My thoughts come back to the here and now. The basket our Queen and King left as a gift on their last visit is waiting. I can tell Goddess’ hand has been in there: some of them are missing. She has such a sweet tooth.

The raisin-oatmeal cookies remain my favourite, there’s no missing the love that two red-tailed Eternals put into their gifts. Perhaps I’ll try making some. I might even allow Goddess to steal a few.

The thought feels right and makes me smile.