#poseidonis

garth of shayeris aesthetic [aqualad i / tempest]

dc universe

Aquagirl

-Real name: Selena

-A.k.a.: Aqua-Girl

-Publisher: DC Comics

-Type: Poseidonis

-Afilliations: -

AQUAMAN TP BY PETER DAVID BOOK 02

In this second volume of undersea tales written by Peter David, an assassin called Deadline has been hired to kill Aquaman. To make matters worse, Aquaman's harpoon hand has been melted from his recent battles, and he must go to S.T.A.R. Labs in Metropolis to get a replacement. Will Aquaman be able to replace his "hand" in time to save the city of Poseidonis and avoid the hit that's been put out on him? Collects  AQUAMAN #9-20 and AQUAMAN ANNUAL #1.

Available at Lobo Comics & Toys this coming Wednesday, 08/08/2018

Детская сказка на английском. "Посейдонис"

But, though these things and the power they held or symbolized were the terror of the peoples and the envy of all rival magicians, the thoughts of Malygris were dark with immitigable melancholy and weariness filled his heart as ashes fill the hearth where a great fire has died. Immovable he sat, implacable he mused, while the sun of afternoon declining on the city and on the sea that was beyond the city smote with autumnal rays through the window of greenish-yellow glass and touched his shrunken hands with its phantom gold and fired the bales-rubies of his rings till they burned like demonian eyes. But in his musings there was neither light nor fire; and turning from the grayness of the present, from the darkness that seemed to close in so imminently upon the future, he groped among the shadows of memory even as a blind man who has lost the sun and seeks it everywhere in vain. And all the vistas of time that had been so full of gold and splendor, the days of triumph that were colored like a soaring flame, the crimson and purple of the rich imperial years of his prime, all these were chill and dim and strangely faded now, and the remembrance thereof was no more than the stirring of dead embers. Then Malygris groped backward to the years of his youth, to the misty, remote, incredible years, where, like an alien star, one memory still burned with unfailing luster - the memory of the girl Nylissa whom he had loved in days ere the lust of unpermitted knowledge and necromantic dominion had ever entered his soul. He had well-nigh forgotten her for decades, in the myriad preoccupations of a life so bizarrely diversified, so replete with occult happenings and powers, with supernatural victories and perils; but now, at the mere thought of this slender and innocent child who had loved him so dearly when he too was young and slim and guileless, and who had died of a sudden mysterious fever on the very eve of their marriage-day, the mummylike umber of his cheeks took on a phantom flush, and deep down in the icy orbs was a sparkle like the gleam of mortuary tapers. In his dreams arose the irretrievable suns of youth, and he saw the myrtle-shaded valley of Meros, and the stream Zemander, by whose ever-verdant marge he had walked at eventide with Nylissa, seeing the birth of summer stars in the heavens, the stream, and the eyes of his beloved.

poseidonis ~ 2021