LIterally a god in Shinto.Question. What is your mental image when this:
Happens?
Because it... Makes me ill.
Maybe a better word choice?
Susanoo murdered her because he thought it was disgusting.
LIterally a god in Shinto.Question. What is your mental image when this:
Happens?
Because it... Makes me ill.
Maybe a better word choice?
Uke Mochi, I think?LIterally a god in Shinto.
Susanoo murdered her because he thought it was disgusting.
LIterally a god in Shinto.
Susanoo murdered her because he thought it was disgusting.
I've read both, actually.Wrong sibling- Tsukuyomi, Amaterasu's other brother, was the one who did that particular murder.
After she took the sword he got from killing the Orochi. One of his titles describe some very well. The impetuous youth.Susanoo was the one that caused Amaterasu to sulk in a cave after he threw a dead horse into her loom, iirc
(Amaterasu's siblings are dicks)
Same here.
The one I read was that Susanoo caused Amaterasu to sulk in a cave after he killed one of her friends.Susanoo was the one that caused Amaterasu to sulk in a cave after he threw a dead horse into her loom, iirc
(Amaterasu's siblings are dicks)
Though Amaterasu came out of her NEET cave for a striptease, so theres that.
Also another good blocking off the cave she hid in.You know, I can't actually say any of that is wrong.
Although iirc, it might have been the other kami laughing at said striptease that lured her out, then the mirror showing how beautiful she is kept her outside.
Whereas putting a mirror in front of most other NEETs would have them recoil in horrorYou know, I can't actually say any of that is wrong.
Although iirc, it might have been the other kami laughing at said striptease that lured her out, then the mirror showing how beautiful she is kept her outside.
Although iirc, it might have been the other kami laughing at said striptease that lured her out, then the mirror showing how beautiful she is kept her outside.
IIRC it was the fact that everyone was paying more attention to the lady doing the striptease than to her.You know, I can't actually say any of that is wrong.
Although iirc, it might have been the other kami laughing at said striptease that lured her out, then the mirror showing how beautiful she is kept her outside.
Kami no Manimani.There's a Vocaloid rendition of the myth running around out there somewhere.
Some context; Andos was Perturabo's adoptive brother, Gerademos is Andos' grandson. Olivier and Marissa are remembrancers sent by Malcador to dig into Perty's history.
'Andos was a noble man,' Gerademos began. 'He was kind and thoughtful - indeed, he was so different to the rest of Dammekos' kin there were whispers he was a foreign seed sprouted in the poison soil of that house.'
'Is it true?' asked Olivier.
'No. I myself have been gene-typed to settle the matter. Dammekos was my great-grandfather.'
'Then you could be rich,' said Olivier.
'Rich?' Gerademos smiled humourlessly. 'I would have nothing to do with him. He was as bad as his foster-child,' said the smith angrily. 'Andos was a great craftsman. Were it not for Perturabo, he would have been the genius of this age. There was little art or craft he could not turn his hand to, nothing he could not make beautiful. None could surpass him, except Perturabo. Do you think Dammekos, his own father, saw that? He did not. Dammekos was bedazzled by Perturabo, and what service the foreign youth could do for him.'
Gerademos pulled out the iron and commenced working it with his hammer. Between ringing strikes he continued his story.
'But Perturabo did see Andos' worth, and it made him seethe. He goaded Andos constantly into competition, vying with him to see who could make the most marvellous art or fashion the finest weapon. Everyone knew Perturabo exceeded Andos in every way, none more so than Andos himself, but the mere possibility that anyone, even his own adoptive brother, could better Perturabo's talents, stoked his rage. Perturabo always had an excess of rage. So Perturabo contested with Andos, and beat him, and contested with him again, and beat him, and each time he exulted in his triumph. It was pathetic, like a ten year-old crowing that he has outmatched his three year-old brother in the wrestling ring.'
'This does not accord with the official accounts of his life,' said Marissa.
A hard strike sent a fan of sparks from the iron. Gerademos held up the iron in his tongs and peered at it critically. It was taking on the shape of a sword. The metal cooled to a dull ruby, and he thrust it back into the coals. The bellows began their pumping once more.
'Of course it doesn't. Perturabo wrote the official accounts. Before the Emperor came, he presented a face to the world that he thought of as calm and commanding, but was in truth sullen. He hid his envies, though not all of his rages. This story was told to me by my father, who heard it from my grandfather. You want a true account of the primarch, you won't get a better one than this.
'One day, Perturabo challenged Andos yet again. By this time my grandfather's patience had run out. He had come to middle-age, and had withdrawn to his workshops. He had no desire to prove anything to anyone, only to continue his business in the shadow of the Warlord of Lochos as best he could. Perturabo would not let him be. He pushed and pushed, demanding another matching of skill. Andos' own temper was slow to kindle, but it finally caught as any man's eventually will, and so he took Perturabo's challenge. They were to make statues of Shashal of Drast - he's one of our culture's heroes,' he said sourly. 'Yet another bloody murdering tyrant. We have an addiction to them.
'This time, Andos strove harder than he ever had before. He put all his talentinto that statue. Perturabo finished well before, but Andos would not hurry. Weeks went by. Perturabo's ego was soothed by what he thought of as another victory. That is, until Andos was done and the statues were set side by side, and unveiled.'
The smith took the metal from the fire, and began again to beat upon it, speaking between strikes. 'Perturabo's statue of Shashal was perfect in every way. There was not a single flaw. In composition it was arresting. As a depiction of the human form it was a marvel. Shashal looked like he might step down from his pedestal at any moment, that he would breathe and live as a revenant in bronze. The people of the court were moved to tears.'
'So why did he destroy it?' asked Marissa.
Gerademos snorted a bitter laugh. 'Because there was a problem, and for Perturabo it was a very big problem.' Gerademos' hammer rang off the metal. 'Andos' statue was better. A lot better. Perturabo's was technically period all right, but Andos somehow trapped the man's soul in bronze. When viewed from different angles, the statue revealed another facet of Shashal's character. Andos depicted pathos and tragedy. Through subtle means he told the story of Shashal's life in that one, single figure. Compared to Andos' statue, Perturabo's looked hollow. The way they tell it, there was never a finer piece of art made on Olympia, and Perturabo knew it. His face went grey. But he congratulated my grandfather, and the court gave Andos high honours. They were going to set the statues side by side above the Kephalon gate at Lochos in honour of both men. That never happened.'
'Because Perturabo destroyed them both,' said Marissa.
The hammer clanged again many times before Gerademos answered. 'You catch on quick,' he said. 'He obliterated Andos' statue completely. Of course, no one said anything about it. It went unremarked upon like all the rest of Perturabo's petty rages. His own statue he smashed into that mangle you see there, but he was careful to leave enough of it so that its artfulness can still be glimpsed. One of our noble lord's more subtle lessons for us. Andos and Perturabo never spoke again. Grandfather let himself age naturally, and died nearly ninety years ago. Such a waste of a talent, gone while his parasitic sister and father ruled over us.' He shook his head angrily. 'Andos had something Perturabo never had.'
'What is this thing?' asked Marissa.
Gerademos grunted. 'Humanity.'
Lure them out with the smell of cooked chicken?Ancient guide to hikkimori treatment, lure them out with a striptease, terrify them with a large mirror, block off their room while distracted.
Even the Developers agree that mythology can be surprisingly relevant to Exalted:
You'll have to explain this one for me.And I only got that now too. Obvious when you look at it though.
And I only got that now too. Obvious when you look at it though.
Same, I can't think of any similarities except "went to the underworld."
I wouldn't be surprised if some did, however, thaumaturgists can't bind the neomah, and they'd probably take exception to being made to work with such inferior materials. And sorcerers generally have better things to do than expand the herds of cattle. Although, again, in times of need I could see them doing it. I could also see them biding a neomah to produce some new, 'better' breed of cattle, in which case the endeavour would probably be a Sorcerous Working using the neomah as an asset in making it come about.Personal headcanon.
In the more rural areas of creation, where men herd cattle, thaumaturgists and sorcerers summon Neomah to create new baby cattle to speed up the growth of herds. Cattle, especially in the bronze age, were expensive and often used as a sign of wealth. The cattle may be small now, but they can grow up to later be productive animals.