#circe — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #circe, aggregated by home.social.
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CW: TW mención a violación
Añadido: en retellings posteriores, han revisitado mucho las intenciones de #Circe. Tanto en #Epic como la novela de #MadelineMiller hablan que ella actúa así porque han violado a sus ninfas, pero personalmente no me gusta que, para "empoderar" a un personaje femenino se tire de abuso sexual que ni está en el relato original.
La xenia ya sirve de motivo de sobra para defender a Circe. Invades mi tierra, te doy la mano y te tomas todo el brazo. Recordemos, además, que en #LaOdisea no hay buenos ni malos, hay personajes ambiguos, complejos e imperfectos. Y es lo bonito.
#ViernesDeMitologíaGriega #culturagriegaantigua #mitologíagriega
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Mi interpretación personal es que #Circe se vio con "copong, que esta peña se ha plantado en mi isla". Los hombres de Odiseo se han pasado la xenia por el forro varias veces en todo el viaje, así que con ella no iban a hacer excepciones. Ella les dio de comer y de beber, pero probablemente los modales y la contención salieron por la ventana como han salido tantas otras veces.
Aquí, además, vemos unas de las pocas veces donde una diosa seduce a un mortal y no con los géneros a la inversa. Hay quien dice que #Odiseo accede a acostarse con ella por consejo de Hermes, pero la decisión de quedarse un año entero fue de él. Circe le ofrece a Odiseo lo que desea y necesita: alojamiento, comida, cariño y, además, sabiduría. Gracias a ella adquiere conocimientos mágicos que no podría haber obtenido en otro sitio.
El deseo, además, no está villanizado como sí veríamos en un relato cristiano. O en la versión de Nolan.
Perdón.
Esper que os haya gustado este #ViernesDeMitologíaGriega . Si queréis invitarme a vino y queso, podéis hacerlo aquí:
https://ko-fi.com/lauralunamodel -
¡Feliz #ViernesDeMitologíaGriega!
Lo prometido es deuda y vuelvo con un personaje fascinante (aunque Nolan no la haya sabido apreciar) del que ya hablamos la otra vez: #Circe, diosa y practicante de la #pharmakeia, el uso de las plantas. En esta ocasión, voy a centrarme en su mito más conocido: la visita de Odiseo a su isla y toda una lección sobre la #xenia.
#Odiseo, mientras intenta llegar a casa pagando fuerte el no haber hecho un tributo a Poseidón antes de navegar, llega con sus hombres a la isla de Eea, donde habita la diosa. Odiseo decide quedarse en el barco y envía a varios de sus hombres para que hagan la avanzadilla.
En la isla encuentran leones y lobos que no les atacan, y tremendo palacio donde oyen una voz muy sensualona que les invita a entrar. Se trata de Circe, que está muy buena, es muy sexy y les pone un festín de queso y vino. Vamos, una cgena de picoteoh.
En un momento, Circe les toca con una varita y se convierten en cerdos, El Viaje de Chihiro style. Euríloco, uno de los compis de Odiseo que no había entrado en el palacio de la diosa, volvió a Odiseo y le contó lo que había pasado.
Cuando el héroe va hacia el palacio a ver qué se cuece, recibe la visita de #Hermes, que en todo el viaje le ha sacado las castañas del fuego más de una vez. El dios le ofrece una hierba mágica y protectora para que el embrujo de Circe no tenga efecto en él y le da un consejo a la hora de enfrentarse a ella: sacar el cuchillo que lleva atado al muslo y amenazarla. También le avisa de que ella le tirará los trastos y que él siga palante y se den mambo.
Y, de hecho, es lo que pasa. Circe invita a Odiseo a una cgena de picoteo, ve que no se transforma, Odiseo la amenaza y ella se pone sensualona. Odiseo dice "follamos, pero devuelve la forma humana a mis compis".
Lo que pasa es +18 y después Circe le prepara un spa que ni en el Lush.
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SIGUE ⬇️
Entonces ocurrió lo más cruel.
Mientras el héroe agonizaba, ambos comenzaron a hablar.
Fue en esos últimos minutos cuando descubrieron quiénes eran realmente.
El joven acababa de matar a su propio padre.
Y la profecía de Tiresias se cumplía de una forma tan irónica como perfecta.
Odiseo no murió ahogado.
La muerte le llegó "desde el mar", escondida en el aguijón de un animal marino.
Destrozado por la culpa, Telégono llevó el cuerpo de Odiseo hasta la isla de Eea, donde vivía Circe.
Con él viajaron también Penélope y Telémaco.
Es aquí donde la Telegonía toma un giro que sigue sorprendiendo a los estudiosos.
Para cerrar el ciclo de odio y reconciliar a toda la familia, Circe organizó dos matrimonios completamente inesperados.
Telémaco terminó casándose con Circe, la antigua amante de su padre.
Y Telégono se casó con Penélope, la viuda del hombre al que había matado.
Lejos de presentarse como una historia romántica, estos matrimonios tenían un fuerte significado simbólico: pretendían romper el ciclo de violencia, expiar el parricidio involuntario y reconciliar dos ramas de la misma familia.
Tras los funerales de Odiseo, Circe empleó su magia para conceder la inmortalidad a Penélope, Telémaco y Telégono.
Según la versión más conocida, Telégono y Penélope fueron enviados a vivir para siempre en las Islas de los Bienaventurados, una especie de paraíso reservado a ciertos héroes favorecidos por los dioses.
Algunas tradiciones añaden que Telémaco y Circe tuvieron un hijo llamado Latino, considerado por varios autores antiguos como el legendario fundador del pueblo latino.
Otras versiones, sin embargo, atribuyen esa paternidad directamente a Odiseo, lo que demuestra que ni siquiera los propios griegos se ponían de acuerdo.También existen relatos que convierten a Telégono y Penélope en padres de Ítalo, héroe epónimo al que algunas tradiciones relacionaban con el origen del nombre de Italia.
Como ocurre con gran parte de la mitología griega, existen numerosas variantes y, en ocasiones, se contradicen entre sí.
No todas las versiones terminan con una familia inmortal viviendo en paz.
Autores posteriores, como Licofrón, recogieron otra tradición mucho más trágica.
En ella, Circe consigue devolver la vida a Odiseo mediante sus hechizos.
Más tarde, Telémaco acaba casándose no con Circe, sino con Casífone, hija de la hechicera.
Pero la paz dura poco.
Una discusión entre Telémaco y Circe termina con la muerte de la maga a manos del propio hijo de Odiseo.
Casífone, enloquecida por el dolor, venga a su madre matando a Telémaco.
La maldición que parecía haber terminado vuelve a repetirse.
La isla donde nada era normal
Según la tradición, la isla de Eea —identificada por algunos autores con el actual monte Circeo, en Italia— era un lugar donde las leyes de la naturaleza parecían desaparecer.
El palacio de Circe estaba rodeado por lobos, leones y osos que, en realidad, habían sido hombres transformados mediante sus hechizos.
Lejos de comportarse como fieras, actuaban dócilmente, como animales domésticos.
Allí, entre pócimas, conjuros y criaturas encantadas, Penélope y Telémaco dejaron atrás para siempre la vida que habían conocido en Ítaca.
Así termina realmente la historia del hombre de los mil recursos.
No con un regreso triunfal, sino con un exilio, una profecía cumplida, un hijo desconocido que acabó matándolo por accidente y una familia cuyo destino quedó para siempre unido a la magia de Circe.
Porque, en la mitología griega, ni siquiera los héroes más grandes podían escapar del destino.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WyhB128nuBU
#mitologiagriega #odiseo #ulises #circe #telémaco #telégono #penélope #homero #greciaantigua #historia #curiosidades #ecosdelpasado
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OUCH! The Translator of #TheOdyssey Just Slammed #ChristopherNolan’s Movie
“I would be ashamed to have written any part of this script,” wrote #EmilyWilson, the first woman to translate The Odyssey into English.
By Josh OsmanPublished: Jul 27, 2026 1:20 PM EDT
Excerpt: "Throughout her piece, the scholar notes that no adaptation should necessarily follow an original exactly. (In fact, she praises some radically reinterpretations of The Odyssey, including #MargaretAtwood's #Penelopiad, #MadelineMiller's #Circe, and other literary classics that riff off the text, including those of #Euripides, #JohnMilton, and #JamesJoyce.)"
#ClassicsBookClub #Classics #Movies #Homer #AncientGreece #ReadABook
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Ya que se estrena #LaOdisea, hoy toca un #ViernesDeMitologíaGriega temático. Hace un tiempo hablé de cómo todo el mito de La Odisea es un cuento con moraleja sobre tener respeto al mar, con todas las malas faenas que te podían pasar.
Hoy voy a hablar de un personaje icónico y peor tratado: #Circe.
A menudo nos dicen que Homero puso a Circe como la bruja, la mala, cuando en realidad no era así. La misoginia con la que se ha tratado a esta hechicera que convirtió a los hombres de Odiseo en cerdos viene más bien de interpretaciones posteriores (sobre todo de traducciones victorianos) y demás retellings con extra dosis de misoginia.
Pero lo cierto es que La Odisea no la trata de villana, ni de bruja malvada. De hecho, la obra de Homero va de personajes grises, lejos del maniqueísmo que se fuerza a la hora de interpretar #mitologíagriega.
Pero lo que mucha gente olvida es que Circe era una diosa, hija de Helios y de la oceánide Perseis. Y esta divinidad no se reduce a La Odisea: Circe tenía su propio culto en Grecia, aunque poco se ha rescatado de él.
#Homero no utiliza ningún adjetivo despectivo sobre Circe, sino que la describe como una practicante de la pharmakeia, es decir, el conocimiento de pociones (sí, de ahí viene "farmacia") y esto es un arte que ya se practicaba y sin connotaciones feas.
De Circe hay mucha miga, como su papel en La Odisea, la xenia y señores a los que les das la mano y se toman todo el brazo, pero hoy me quiero centrar en un aspecto que no es tan conocido: el de su culto.
En los Epigramas de Homero, él la invoca como una diosa de la magia y de las pociones. En las costas de la Ática se encontró un altar dedicado a Circe. En Italia, tenemos el monte Circeo, que recibe su nombre por la diosa y donde también se erigió un templo dedicado a ella. Cicerón documenta que en la colonia romana de Circeii eran muy devotos a ella.
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¡Feliz #ViernesDeMitilogíaGriega !
Como aún estamos en #mermay, hoy os traigo una figura muy adecuada: las #sirenas.
En nuestro imaginario, las sirenas tienen cola de pez y busto y rostro de mujer y son muy cuquis. Pero en la #mitologíagriega son mucho más terribles: tienen cuerpo de ave, cabeza y/o busto de mujer. Tenían una voz preciosa y con su canto atraían a los barcos para que se estrellaran en sus rocas y comerse a los marineros.
Sí, la femme fatale no se inventó anoche.
Las #sirenas protagonizan varios mitos que tienen que ver con travesías en el mar, y esto tiene sentido. Originalmente, eran doncellas de #Perséfone , y #Deméter, cuando fue en busca de su hija les dio alas para que pudieran otear el paradero de la joven #Kore.
El cameo más famoso de las sirenas es en #LaOdisea. #Circe (quien se merece otro episodio de Viernes de Mitología Griega) advierte a #Odiseo del peligro de encontrárselas.
Odiseo sabe que si oye su voz, será su perdición, pero no quiere renunciar a la simple curiosidad y tentación de conocer ese embrujo. Así, urde un plan: hace que sus marineros se pongan tapones de cera y les pide que le amarren al mástil. De esa manera, podrá escucharlas sin caer en la tentación de arrojarse al mar.
Y la cosa sale bien. Bien, en el sentido de que sale vivo.
Cuando pasan por las rocas de las sirenas, éstas se marcan sus temazos y las muy puñeteras le tientan con lo que Odiseo más desea: el conocimiento. Ellas le prometen que, si detiene el navío, le contarán secretos del mundo jamás revelados a nadie. En la película #Ulises (1954) y en #Epic, imitan la voz de #Penélope, la esposa de Odiseo que le espera fielmente en el hogar.
Odiseo clama por ser liberado y sus marineros, que están con tapones, no lo oyen. Incluso les hace gestos con el rostro, pero se mantienen fieles a la promesa de no liberarlo.
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Circe cree que ayuda.
Pero no ayuda. -
So, the last movie hubby and I (and our shared bestie) saw in a theatre was #Dune. I think we need to see #TheOdyssey on the big screen. I mean, #Circe, Penelope, #Telemachus #Oikos ("homecoming" not the yogurt)?! This looks like it covers most of the important stuff!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_bKjZeJBBI
#HomersOdyssey #WarIsHell #AncientGreece #ClassicsMajors #Movies #MoviesForClassicsMajors
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Veo que hay una peligrosa escasez de fotos de gatitos cuquis, así que os comparto fotos de cuando mi pequeña Circe llegó a nuestras vidas hace casi 3 añitos.
(Que he estado buscando unas fotos y me he encontrado con estas)
A que era cuquísima?
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[Working paper] The Daimon of the Interface: an (Alien) Phenomenological Approach to Writing TechnologyOn February 20, 2026, I presented a paper at the Future of Writing symposium 2026, whose main theme was “adaptability”. The symposium was organized by Mark Marino and Z.D. Dochterman and it was presented by The Dornsife Writing Program at the University of Southern California, the Institute on Ethics & Trust in Computing, the Viterbi Engineering in Society program, the Ahmanson Lab, the Electronic Literature Organization, and the Humanities and Critical Code Studies Lab.
I do not actually teach writing, but digital writing is the focus of my academic research and I teach digital literacy workshops (with the Socialini collective). These two experiences led me to present a phenomenological approach to teaching writing, a method that is in debt to C.I.R.C.E.‘s “hacker pedagogy” and their interface analysis, which I apply to writing interfaces. The title of the paper is The Daimon of the Interface: an (Alien) Phenomenological Approach to Writing Technology.
The overall goal of this approach is to help students develop a deep awareness of the interconnection and interdependence of writing and thinking, and of the influence that the tools we use have on our cognitive and writing processes.
Since my academic career is likely coming to its end soon, I thought it was better to publish it as a working paper on my Zenodo profile instead of going through the everlasting and exhausting process of developing it as it should be done, then submitting it to an academic journal and going through the full loop. I know this is a shortcut, but I also think that in the paper there could be some interesting ideas and the method I propose could be of some use to teachers. So in a spirit of openness and sharing, I prefer to put it out in the world. Of course, I’ll be more than happy to receive comments, critics and feedback: if you want, get in touch!
#CIRCE #digitalHumanities #digitalLiteracy #digitalWriting #FutureOfWriting #SocialiniIt #teaching https://wp.me/pa8vBQ-u7 -
Conversation pratique sur les licences Creative Commons et leurs impacts
https://reseaucirce.org/evenements/webinaire-conversation-pratique-sur-les-licences-creative-commons-et-leurs-impacts/
#Circe #CreativeCommons #licence #webinaire #articles #publication -
They were back at home, and Circe was instructing Angela on how to construct a shrine to the goddess who was her patron. Not, it seemed, that she had any say in the matter.
Her mistress had said that it was 'acceptable' for the new shrine to be next to her own. Apparently the two were sometimes one, and this closeness made a shared space OK. Fortunately, despite being the Goddess of the Hunt, her preferred offering was nothing more complex than honey seed cakes.
"Circe, what about the other gods and goddesses?"
"Oh, they are real enough. But few have enough attention on them to manifest."
"What about the gods of other cultures?" Angela asked.
"They exist as well. There are several that could manifest, but do not. The weight of the human world sits heavy on most of them. I must say I was surprised to see your patron - the unexpected focus must have aroused her curiosity."
"Is that why you keep avoiding her name?"
"Very good. Names do have power. You will do well to remember that." Circe had taken on her 'teacher' voice suddenly.Angela resumed assembling the shrine, and setting out the initial offerings.
"Have you sensed any other gods manifesting?"
Circe thought for a moment. "Only one. And it was one I had not expected at first. One of the Egyptian gods. The Ibis one, although I think he was making himself look more human."
"What is his area?"
"Writing, wisdom, dreams, and magic. I rather suspect he has adopted technology as a logical extension of magic, too."Angela put the finishing touches on the shrine. "There. How does that look?"
"Very good darling. Now make an offering, and do use her name."
"Right," she took a deep breath, let it out, took another "Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, accept my offering."
Suddenly there was a third person in the room, inspecting the shrine, and the offerings upon the altar. "Well done my little hunter," she turned to Circe "You have taught her well. Your own patron is well pleased." The goddess turned back to Angela and commanded "Show me your true form, little hunter."
Angela immediately turned into a cheetah.
"Oh, you are a creature of beauty." She turned back to the shrine, and almost all of the offerings disappeared. A few rectangular packages remained. Picking one up, she removed the cellophane wrapper, and broke off a corner, sampling it. "Not honey - but very good. What are they?"
Angela changed back "Sesame crisps, my lady. They are from the Middle East, I think."
"Not traditional, but perfectly acceptable."
Angela started to bite her lip, which Artemis noticed "Worry not, little hunter. I will not come every time you pay me respect. Or even every time you call upon me. But I felt that this should be a special time. A blessing upon this house." And with that, she vanished. Along with the rest of the sesame crisps.#SF #SFF #IAmWriting #microfic #tootfic #Microfiction #Circe
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Angela was laying on her back, with Circe's head resting on her thighs as they watched the column of smoke and fire climb into the Florida sky.
"What was the last one called, dearest?" drifted up from her legs.
"Apollo. Fifty four years ago."
"Hmm."Suddenly Circe sat up, and got to her feet. Angela didn't know what had prompted it, but she leapt to her own feet and started scanning the area for threats. "What is it?"
"There is a power here. Come, we must be polite."
"Yes, ma'am."Angela followed Circe as she strode across the grassy bank, and stopped near a tall athletic woman who made her instincts scream 'Danger!'
Circe bowed, and Angela copied her, making sure to bow a little deeper. "My Lady, I had no idea any of you still walked the human world. My apologies for not making the proper observances."
The mystery woman turned her eyes from the rocket's trail, and looked at them, and then looked again. "Circe, you are awakened in this time. How unexpected. My name has been called so many times over the past few years, it has been sufficient even if they do not make the offerings. My brother found the same fifty years ago." Then she turned her eyes to Angela, and looked back at Circe. "A fine working. What is she to you?"
"Bodyguard at first. Partner now."
The woman was suddenly in front of Angela, who found she could not move, or change. Her eyes went wide. The woman reached out and stroked Angela's face. "Fine work, indeed. What brought you to me this day?"
"To pay our respects, nothing more, my lady," Circe's voice was deferential.
The woman was back in front of Circe, and stroking her face the same way. "You come before me without an offering?"
"Only our respect, my lady."
The mystery woman laughed "Oh, dear Circe, you never fail to surprise." Suddenly Angela could move again, and she stepped up next to Circe. "Oh, do not look so fierce little guardian. I will do no harm to your mistress or yourself. You are too perfect a hunter, and I would not break such a work of art. Have my blessing, and continue as you are." With those words, she vanished."Circe, who was that?"
"That, my love, was your patron. The Goddess of the Hunt," and she pointed up towards where the rocket had vanished.
"An actual goddess?"
"Oh yes. We will have to establish a shrine if she is back in the world. Even if it is only temporary."#SF #SFF #IAmWriting #microfic #tootfic #Microfiction #Circe
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CIRCE "Perhaps no parent can truly see their child When we look we see only the mirror of our own faults" Sale: $17.99 to $2.99 by Madeline Miller Rating: 4.5/5 (92,689 Reviews) #Circe #Mythology #Fantasy #Books #Historical #MadelineMiller #BookSky
CIRCE -
Con la primavera se me han colado unas abejas bien grandes en casa...
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Spaghetti hacker: “Scritture digitali”, in compagnia di “Server ribelli” e del collettivo Bida a Roma il 6 dicembre
Sabato 6 dicembre al circolo Che Guevara di Roma (via Fontanellato 69), a partire dalle 16:30, ci sarà il secondo incontro della rassegna Spaghetti hacker. Insieme a Giuliana Sorci, che presenterà il suo Server ribelli. R-esistenza e hacktivismo nel fediverso in Italia (Meltemi 2025), al collettivo Bida, che ha dato il via alla diffusione di Mastodon in Italia, ci sarò anch’io, con il mio Scritture digitali. Dai social media all’IA e all’editing genetico (Meltemi 2025): sarà una chiacchierata aperta e collettiva per pensare e praticare un rapporto diverso con le tecnologie.
Questo incontro, che segue il primo con il collettivo C.I.R.C.E. del 18 novembre, si inserisce in un percorso che stiamo portando avanti collettivamente, ognunə con le proprie capacità e a partire dalle proprie reti, per disfarci del determinismo tecnologico che ci vendono le Big Tech e per costruire insieme un approccio diverso a dispositivi e servizi digitali, che parta dalle nostre esigenze e dai bisogni delle nostre comunità. L’obiettivo non è solo diffondere strumenti alternativi alle grandi piattaforme ma anche coltivare e condividere saperi critici nei loro aspetti teorici e pratici.
Sentiamo sempre di più, intorno a noi, una stanchezza diffusa riguardo alla pervasività dei dispositivi e del loro uso, agli automatismi che inducono, a come, attraverso il loro design, ci impongano modalità e ritmi che non rispondono ai bisogni reali della nostra natura umana e del nostro essere sociali. Cambiare dinamiche e strumenti è possibile, un passo alla volta, disinnescando gli automatismi più tossici e ritrovando quelle che C.I.R.C.E. definisce “convivialità elettriche”.
Per me sarà anche un’occasione per fare un giro a Più Libri, Più Liberi, la fiera nazionale della piccola e media editoria. Se siete da quelle parti, fatemi sapere, che ci prendiamo un caffè!
Come “anteprima” dell’incontro di Roma, potete ascoltare l’intervista che ho fatto a Giuliana Sorci, sulla sua ricerca e sull’hacktivismo in Italia per la trasmissione radio Hack or Die.
L’evento del 6 dicembre è già segnalato anche su Gancio de Roma.
#cheGuevaraRoma #circe #collettivoBida #giulianaSorci #pedagogiaHacker #roma #serverRibelli
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Odyssey
#Wss366 11/25
She #plied him with wine and then poppy. Her charms swirled in that dusky haze as her raven tresses brushed his face, and the sounds of war and the smell of Troy burning blurred and faded.
The next morning, she had a new lapdog. He was too pretty to become swine.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #Odyssey #Ulysses #Circe #NMV366 #NMFic #Mythpunk
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The two women walking down 14th Street NW in DC were gently bickering. One was tall and athletic, with limbs that seemed almost too long, in slacks, t-shirt, a leather vest, and her only ornamentation was an almost invisible silver necklace. The other was significantly shorter, with generous curves, wearing a dress that was apparently in defiance of physics, and a vast array of rings, several impressively convoluted necklaces, and a brooch that would probably pay for a small jet.
A passer-by would not pick up much of the conversation, indeed, many of the passers-by would not have been able to tell you much, distracted as they were by the appearance of the two women.
If one were able to focus, though, it would have been a very strange conversation indeed.
"I can't just take one of your potions before a competition - it wouldn't be fair! And there are rules about performance enhancing drugs," the taller was saying.
"As if you are playing fair with a body that I designed for speed. And their so-called tests would never detect my potions," the shorter retorted.
"That's why I don't enter sprint or middle distance competitions. Anyway , how is it you are so keen to dose me up, but you still refuse to use a spell to help me learn Greek?"
"Ha! You are a hypocrite! You refuse assistance in competition, but you demand it in learning!"
"They are two completely different things! One is a test of skill -"
"And the other is a test of your skills. They are exactly alike."
"No, one I am competing against others, the other is ..."
"Competing against a book. Very well. I will refrain from offering potions before a race. But I will not let you consume those vile 'sports drinks' after! You hear?" this last had the sound of command.
"Yes Mistress," the tall woman replied in resignation, "I guess that means no spell?"
"Correct. No spell. It is not like you do not have time."
"Yes Mistress," she sighed.
"Come now, do not be like that. I am certain I can make your studies much more fun. Did you know I have the complete works of several of the so-called lost authors? Including that lovely lady from Eresos. She had a beautiful voice to go with her talent at verse."
"Eresos?"
"A village on one of the Greek islands. Lovely place, beautiful beaches, even now. Ah! Here we are. If there is one thing this time gets right, it is clothing. Such an endless variety! Come, Angela dearest, let us see what harm we can cause at next week's event!"#SF #SFF #tootfic #SciFi #Microfic #Microfiction #IAmWriting #Circe
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Ten years ago, Ange had made a deal with a sorceress to become a creature that could run, and in return she would guard her. What she got was much, much more. She gained not just the form of a cheetah, but a human form to match.
And she had dutifully guarded Mistress throughout that time. In return, she got as much opportunity to run as she could have wanted. She also gained much more than an employer. But that was ten years ago. And she should be slowing down.
But she wasn't.
A cheetah lives only ten to fifteen years. But she felt as fast and flexible as the day she'd been changed. Likewise her human form showed no sign of slowing down. She was still almost inhumanly flexible, but with none of the issues associated with hypermobility. Her skin remained flawless.
She walked out of the bathroom, and found Circe brushing her hair.
"Mistress."
"Dearest? Why so formal?" Circe asked, and then frowned "Ah, is this to be one of those conversations?"
"Maybe?"
"Well then, what is the matter, Angela?"
"Mistress ... a cheetah only lives ten to fifteen years, and my human form..."
"You finally noticed then? And here I thought you were a detective."
"I was no detective, just a beat cop. But what do you mean?"
"Dearest, our deal was for you to guard me. You did not put a time limit on it." Ange's eyes widened, and Circe continued "And I am not going to waste such a wonderful find as you. You, my dear, will age just as fast as I do."
"But you are thousands of years old!"
"And I plan to be thousands more."
Ange started, mouth open. Circe got up, and gently closed it with one finger.
"Now, as tempting as you are, we do have places to be this morning. Four legs today."
Ange reached forward, gave her Mistress a firm hug, kissed both cheeks, kissed her mouth, and then dropped into her feline form.
She casually stalked over to the bedroom door, and looked back, clearly asking "What is taking so long?"
Circe burst into laughter, and started to dress.
#SF #SFF #IAmWriting #microfic #tootfic #Microfiction #Circe
-
It had been a long night, and it was still early. Ange looked at Circe's sleeping face, and carefully got out of bed, shifting to two legs as she did so.
Making her way to the back door of the mansion, she opened it, and shifted back to four legs. She sprinted to the far end of the property, and then sprinted back. About a quarter mile each way. She did this twice more.
Then she spotted a patch of sunlight on the grass, stalked over to it, and lay down. After a little while she rolled onto her back, and then sleepily rolled onto her side.
A couple of hours later Circe emerged with a cup of heated wine in her hand, and looked at Ange. "I see someone has fully embraced their new form."
Hearing Mistress' voice, Ange rolled over, got up, and gracefully sauntered to her. She rubbed around her legs, and then pushed off onto her hind legs, shifting back to human form as she did so. Embracing Circe from behind, she looked into her cup. "Ugh. I don't suppose there's any coffee is there?"
"You, dearest, are a complete barbarian. Yes there is."
"I'm only a barbarian because you refuse to use that spell to teach me Greek."
"The spell is not a long term solution."
"It would still give me a start."
The gentle bickering continued as they went back inside.
#SF #SFF #IAmWriting #microfic #tootfic #Microfiction #Circe
-
It was another of those endless gala balls that are a seasonal feature of the DC calendar. Any excuse to dress up. This one claimed to be a fundraiser for a cancer research group.
Circe knew better. 99.5% of the funds were being siphoned off to various major companies, who contributed exactly nothing to the research. She expected rich pickings.
Sadly the night had largely been a bust. Most of the people there genuinely wanted to help. There was one lady who gave every appearance of being a complete glutton, but then she'd sneak off and vomit it all up. She needed help, not punishment. So Circe decided to call it a night.
Ange had been by her side all night, and almost everyone had given them a wide berth. No-one wanted to get too close to the fierce cheetah in case it took a swipe at them. Well, there was the one fellow who'd knelt down and carefully offered his hand. Ange had dutifully sniffed it and had submitted to a careful petting. He had been very polite about it all.
But now they were leaving. Mistress preferred to drive herself, so they had parked just a little way from the hotel, rather than have a car pick them up. They were just near the car when Ange noticed the man behind them.
He'd just started to pick up his pace, and was reaching behind his back when Ange gave a small growl. Then she turned and snapped the slender silver chain that Mistress was holding.
With all the grace, speed, and power of a finely tuned predator she covered the few yards and leapt upon him before he could finish drawing whatever weapon it was. Her speed and bulk carried him to the ground, and she rested her teeth on his neck.
"Wonderful reflexes there darling. Hold him still please." Circe made her way to the trapped mugger. "Now let's have a look at you." She stared into his eyes "I see. Well, you are a piece of work, aren't you? Now, who hired you?" She sat back.
"That will not do. Let him up dearest." Ange drew back, and the man jumped up, and went for the weapon again. This time Circe just waved, and then there was a rat, not a man.
"Come along dearest. It seems that Manfred's down the road has been taken over. The new owners don't like competition. We will have to teach them the error of their ways."
Ange gave the rat a back-of-the-paw swat and sent it running down the gutter. Then she caught up with Mistress and pressed against her until they reached the car.
#SF #SFF #IAmWriting #microfic #tootfic #Microfiction #Circe
-
Sergent Angela McMannus had been a DC beat cop for over thirty years. She was no detective, but when some of the nastiest of the upper crust started disappearing, she started taking notes. After she stopped internally cheering.
There was no real pattern to the disappearances. Except that they were all particularly vile individuals. Almost none of them were regarded as actual criminals, mind. No, they were above that. These were the sorts that would have rubbed shoulders with Epstein. Above the law.
So when she worked out what the cause was, she said nothing to her superiors. For starters, it would be too unbelievable. For another, she saw a way out of her depressing looking future. She had no family to miss her, and her ex-husband was rotting in jail, where he belonged.
So she confronted the ancient sorceress, and made her pitch.
Which brought her to now. Circe (or 'Cecily' as she went by in public) handed her a small bottle. "Drink" she said. So Ange did.
She felt the bottle fall, as her hands became paws. Her clothes fell away, and her arms and legs stretched. A pressure at the base of her spine, and then there was a tail. Her teeth sharpened, and her face grew forward. She dropped to four legs.
It should have been agony. She should have been screaming. Instead, it all felt right. It felt like coming home. It felt glorious.
And then it was done. She looked herself over, long legs, spots, a tail that was slowly waving. A cheetah. Just as she'd been promised.
Circe looked at the predator. "Are you not beautiful, dear? Here. We will need this", and she crouched in front of Ange's new form, and placed a fine silver chain around her neck.
"Now dear, if you are going to be my bodyguard, we can't leave you like this. "
Ange felt like she should be panicking, but at the same time felt frozen. What now?Circe waved her hand, and Ange felt her transformation reverse. No, wait, those were not her hands, those were the hands of someone thirty years her junior! And now she was tall - so tall! What was this?
"What have you done?" she asked when she was able."Don't worry dear, the cheetah is still there." Circe summoned a mirror.
Ange stared at the tall athletic figure in front of her. Her hair was a short light brown-blonde, similar to her base fur as a cheetah. Long arms and legs. She was still a cheetah. Just in human form. With a thin silver necklace.
"Think of your other form." Ange did as instructed, and felt herself drop to all fours, and again became the great cat. She thought of her human shape, and transformed back again.
"Perfect!" exclaimed Circe. "You are absolutely perfect. Come, dear, we have much to do."
Ange had to agree. This was even better than she'd hoped for.
#SF #SFF #IAmWriting #microfic #tootfic #Microfiction #Circe
-
Ange heard the horn go off, and started to run with an easy lope.
Her mistress had been true to her word, and provided many opportunities to run, in both her forms. Today she was human, and taking on the Boston Marathon.
Being her mistress' bodyguard was a full time job, and Ange did not like to be away from her longer than needed. But Mistress had insisted that she keep her side of the deal, and had made sure that Ange got to take part in events like these.
She also got to run as much as she wanted at Mistress' property either on four legs or two. She normally stayed a cheetah when running there.
But this, this was different. All the other runners. The sense of being a part of something huge. She could feel her cheetah self itching to sprint, but she held it in check, keeping to her easy, steady pace.
The miles counted down, and eventually she saw the finish line ahead of her. She picked up her pace. As she approached, she saw her mistress - normally the absolute picture of elegance and refinement - jumping, cheering, and screaming as hard as any hard-core fan.
She passed through the timing gate, and was handed a bottle of electrolytes and her completion pack. Then she did a slow jog to the recovery area. Halfway there, she felt herself get picked up and spun around. Mistress.
"You looked amazing my dear!" She looked at the bottle of electrolytes and made a face. "Bah! I can do better!" A wave of her hand, and the colour of the liquid changed slightly. "Drink up darling!"
Ange did as she was told. The drink tasted of herbs and mountains, and just a hint of alcohol. Almost instantly she felt ready to run again. "Thanks Cecily! Any troubles?"
"Bah, no - there was a pickpocket, but I am told he is supporting his family now his father cannot work. He will have a little extra now."They sat in the shade, and Ange relaxed into Mistress' embrace.
Cecily, or rather Circe, looked at her creation. "So, dear, not so much of a challenge? Shall I enter you into the Barkleys next year?"
#SF #SFF #IAmWriting #microfic #tootfic #Microfiction #Circe