By Web Design - Printable Version
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By Web Design - Sydney Podmore - December 25, 2024
November 18th, 1894 - Podmore Zoological Gardens
Syd had told Miss Dempsey he would show her any of the zoo's more peculiar creatures and after the event on All Hallows' Eve, Syd had procured a few more exhibits. Right now he was just holding onto Bertram while his handler was away for a couple weeks, which was why he had reached out to Miss Dempsey in the first place. He figured she would enjoy such a creature and his visit was short-lived, so might as well make the most of it.
He hadn't told her just what he had in store, preferring to leave it a surprise. After greeting her at the zoo's entrance, Syd showed her behind the scenes to the pen Bertram was currently occupying. The acromantula was philosophizing about trees, as per usual and Syd didn't know what he was going on most of the time, but it felt like it might be right up Miss Dempsey's alley?
"You requested strange, I have strange. This is Bertram." He motioned to the large, fluffy spider. "He enjoys talking about trees and reading tragedies, according to his handler." Syd was out of his depth beyond that, but thought Miss Dempsey might be in her element, especially with the latter. He had asked Eavan about her odd friend casually, trying not to incur and follow up questions, but it was hard not to tell the redhead about the fence situation and not laugh about it.
He hadn't told her just what he had in store, preferring to leave it a surprise. After greeting her at the zoo's entrance, Syd showed her behind the scenes to the pen Bertram was currently occupying. The acromantula was philosophizing about trees, as per usual and Syd didn't know what he was going on most of the time, but it felt like it might be right up Miss Dempsey's alley?
"You requested strange, I have strange. This is Bertram." He motioned to the large, fluffy spider. "He enjoys talking about trees and reading tragedies, according to his handler." Syd was out of his depth beyond that, but thought Miss Dempsey might be in her element, especially with the latter. He had asked Eavan about her odd friend casually, trying not to incur and follow up questions, but it was hard not to tell the redhead about the fence situation and not laugh about it.
RE: By Web Design - Porphyria Dempsey - January 11, 2025
She hadn’t any sense of what to expect, but she had to hope Mr. Podmore had gleaned enough about her to guess at her tastes. She had wanted strange – this surprise was that for sure.
“I do love spiders,” Porphyria declared, glancing between them with a beam. She had been a little envious of that mauling a couple of years ago in Irvingly; she would have liked to see the Acromantula on the loose, at least, but there had been a lockdown. This, of course, was a captive – but she supposed a captive talking spider would be a captive audience. And that she would be one in turn.
Trees and tragedies were rather hopeful too. “Will you introduce us?” she asked Mr. Podmore – being careful, in case there was etiquette for this sort of thing, the way there was with hippogriffs. Porphyria might rarely care about proper etiquette, but – when there was an audience with an Acromantula on the line, she wouldn’t risk it.
“I do love spiders,” Porphyria declared, glancing between them with a beam. She had been a little envious of that mauling a couple of years ago in Irvingly; she would have liked to see the Acromantula on the loose, at least, but there had been a lockdown. This, of course, was a captive – but she supposed a captive talking spider would be a captive audience. And that she would be one in turn.
Trees and tragedies were rather hopeful too. “Will you introduce us?” she asked Mr. Podmore – being careful, in case there was etiquette for this sort of thing, the way there was with hippogriffs. Porphyria might rarely care about proper etiquette, but – when there was an audience with an Acromantula on the line, she wouldn’t risk it.
RE: By Web Design - Sydney Podmore - January 20, 2025
Pleased he had managed to intrigue her, as she was more intriguing than anyone he had ever met, Syd nodded at her request. There was no real etiquette here, not like with a hippogriff (their hippogriff, Frannie, was particularly nonchalant about it, but she was around people often), but he appreciated the decorum.
"Bertram," he called as he moved over to the bars separating the enclosure from the. "I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. This is Miss Porphyria Dempsey." The spider hadn't moved until Syd mentioned her name and suddenly he was rousing himself from his nap spot to make his way over.
"Porphyria?" He asked, eight eyes peering curiously at the newcomer. "As in Porphyria's Lover?"
Suddenly Syd felt as though he was about to be made into a uncultured fool.
"Bertram," he called as he moved over to the bars separating the enclosure from the. "I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. This is Miss Porphyria Dempsey." The spider hadn't moved until Syd mentioned her name and suddenly he was rousing himself from his nap spot to make his way over.
"Porphyria?" He asked, eight eyes peering curiously at the newcomer. "As in Porphyria's Lover?"
Suddenly Syd felt as though he was about to be made into a uncultured fool.
RE: By Web Design - Porphyria Dempsey - February 25, 2025
She felt almost shy at the introduction, though not because Mr. Podmore had called her a friend of his (she was surprised he had categorised them as friends rather than acquaintances, but nonetheless pleased to become so – people occasionally preferred to keep her acquaintance at arms’ length). No, she was mostly intimidated by Bertram, in case a giant spider proved himself smarter and better read than her. But that he knew Browning was a happy start – “The very same,” Phyri exclaimed, “she who was come through wind and rain.” And who would very swiftly be strangled by her lover for it, in said poem. “I write poems, too. And I hear you are fond of tragedies.”
Her tone was conversational, and her eyes alight as the eight-eyed creature scrutinised her in turn. “Are we allowed to come into the enclosure,” Phyri asked, undecided as whether she would be offered a more enticing answer by Bertram or Mr. Podmore, or it was really too dangerous, “or will that result in my tragic end?” Acromantulas ate people, didn’t they? They ought to talk about that.
Her tone was conversational, and her eyes alight as the eight-eyed creature scrutinised her in turn. “Are we allowed to come into the enclosure,” Phyri asked, undecided as whether she would be offered a more enticing answer by Bertram or Mr. Podmore, or it was really too dangerous, “or will that result in my tragic end?” Acromantulas ate people, didn’t they? They ought to talk about that.
RE: By Web Design - Sydney Podmore - March 8, 2025
Already out of his dept, Syd made a mental note to track down this story to read for another time. He was more pleased by the look on Miss Dempsey's features as Bertram dove right in to the literature. As he was now just a vessel of supervision for what he assumed was about to be an in-depth conversation, Syd motioned for her to follow him into the enclosure. "Bertram was raised by hand, has been around humans for his entire life, we're just amusement to him." He laughed as he said it, unlocking the enclosure and stepping in. "Like I said, it's mostly people I don't trust, not the creatures, there will be no tragedies on my watch." Bertram rumbled a little at being called a creature, but came forward to greet Miss Dempsey anyway.
"Did you bring your work with you?" The spider asked thoughtfully, in his typically slow drawl. Syd was curious of the same, but didn't want to make Miss Dempsey think she was obliged to humor them. Syd set about cleaning part of the enclosure, straightening things to give the pair some more dedicated time to discuss. Bertram was a neat creature, unlike some of his residents, so he didn't have a whole lot to do, but he could always find something.
"Did you bring your work with you?" The spider asked thoughtfully, in his typically slow drawl. Syd was curious of the same, but didn't want to make Miss Dempsey think she was obliged to humor them. Syd set about cleaning part of the enclosure, straightening things to give the pair some more dedicated time to discuss. Bertram was a neat creature, unlike some of his residents, so he didn't have a whole lot to do, but he could always find something.
RE: By Web Design - Porphyria Dempsey - March 30, 2025
A tame one, then; although Porphyria had to wonder what Bertram made of humans, living in such close proximity to them and yet a different species. But then even Mr. Podmore saw the difficulties of trusting humans, and he was one; so maybe that was not the first question she ought to ask.
At any rate, Bertram had a question for her – and she was a little too awed by stepping into the enclosure and being nearer to him to much protest to it. She felt dwarfed by the spider from here; his legs alone were taller than her, and much less spindly than the usual spiders one encountered. And Mr. Podmore had just said he was accustomed to being around humans – but Phyri could see his large pincers just before her, and thought they could cause some damage, if the creature so wished.
“I did not, but I can recite some, if you’d like?” Phyri promised, sifting through her works to choose something she thought Bertram would best appreciate. She selected a mossy tree stump to sit on, and offered up a few verses of a poem to him, gazing up at those eight unblinking eyes. It was not her very darkest poem (she was a little conscious of the zoo owner in earshot) but one written after her time as a wren, something that had been borne out of Irish myths, and talked of time and nature and decay and carrion flesh – and had some tree imagery she was particularly proud of, and hoped Bertram might appreciate.
“I can bring more another day, if you didn’t despise it,” she added lightly, at the end. She had some earlier long-form poems that went further into gory gothic tragedy.
At any rate, Bertram had a question for her – and she was a little too awed by stepping into the enclosure and being nearer to him to much protest to it. She felt dwarfed by the spider from here; his legs alone were taller than her, and much less spindly than the usual spiders one encountered. And Mr. Podmore had just said he was accustomed to being around humans – but Phyri could see his large pincers just before her, and thought they could cause some damage, if the creature so wished.
“I did not, but I can recite some, if you’d like?” Phyri promised, sifting through her works to choose something she thought Bertram would best appreciate. She selected a mossy tree stump to sit on, and offered up a few verses of a poem to him, gazing up at those eight unblinking eyes. It was not her very darkest poem (she was a little conscious of the zoo owner in earshot) but one written after her time as a wren, something that had been borne out of Irish myths, and talked of time and nature and decay and carrion flesh – and had some tree imagery she was particularly proud of, and hoped Bertram might appreciate.
“I can bring more another day, if you didn’t despise it,” she added lightly, at the end. She had some earlier long-form poems that went further into gory gothic tragedy.
RE: By Web Design - Sydney Podmore - April 12, 2025
Syd kept stealing glances out of the corner of his eye, mostly to keep an eye on the interaction, though he trusted Bertram far more than most of the creatures in his care. Mostly he didn't want to make himself too conspicuous, though he didn't think Miss Demspey capable of being self-conscious, he did not want to intrude. He moved some things around, stepped out to add fresh water to the little well for drinking, trying to be quiet and unobtrusive while Miss Dempsey recited some of her poetry for the arachnid.
It was hard not to be somewhat awestruck by the fact that she could simply recite the work from memory, but he supposed she had written it, so perhaps it was not as hard? Syd had memorized potions and antidotes and different things for his work during healing, but this felt altogether different; it was sort of mesmerizing and he found himself pausing despite his best efforts to appear occupied.
Bertram clicked his pincers in what Syd assumed was some amalgamation of applause and Syd held back from joining in. He perhaps wasn't so hypnotized by the content, but moreso the imagery and the cadence with with she spoke. Fortunately Bertram was clearly as interested, watching with rapt attention and was able to voice his thoughts, all positive, save for some suggestion on a phrasing, which Syd would have never dared to share, but the spider didn't exactly follow human manners sometimes. "I would enjoy that immensely, you are indeed talented." Syd rather thought he would also enjoy hearing more of Miss Demspey's work and if he had to use Bertram as the conduit, then so be it.
"Bertram is not often so complimentary," Syd joked. In fact the spider was very critical sometimes, but Syd had learned to brush it off. Perhaps he just liked women more, as he let Miss Bixby read to him often and inquired after her when she wasn't in.
It was hard not to be somewhat awestruck by the fact that she could simply recite the work from memory, but he supposed she had written it, so perhaps it was not as hard? Syd had memorized potions and antidotes and different things for his work during healing, but this felt altogether different; it was sort of mesmerizing and he found himself pausing despite his best efforts to appear occupied.
Bertram clicked his pincers in what Syd assumed was some amalgamation of applause and Syd held back from joining in. He perhaps wasn't so hypnotized by the content, but moreso the imagery and the cadence with with she spoke. Fortunately Bertram was clearly as interested, watching with rapt attention and was able to voice his thoughts, all positive, save for some suggestion on a phrasing, which Syd would have never dared to share, but the spider didn't exactly follow human manners sometimes. "I would enjoy that immensely, you are indeed talented." Syd rather thought he would also enjoy hearing more of Miss Demspey's work and if he had to use Bertram as the conduit, then so be it.
"Bertram is not often so complimentary," Syd joked. In fact the spider was very critical sometimes, but Syd had learned to brush it off. Perhaps he just liked women more, as he let Miss Bixby read to him often and inquired after her when she wasn't in.
RE: By Web Design - Porphyria Dempsey - May 1, 2025
She had never imagined a giant arachnid could be such an insightful literary critic, but then – that was a flaw and limitation of her imagination until now, clearly. She wondered if Bertram would be averse to being the subject or the inspiration of a sonnet – she was struck by him in a way that seemed to demand a sonnet specifically, and Porphyria largely disdained sonnets as lowercase romantic trash. (Byron called them puling, and she had always been inclined to agree, before.) But she could make something of it, with its crisp opening octave... but no doubt Bertram would have critiques for her, if she tried. He had offered her up some already.
So much the better – they were having proper artistic conversation now, and she wished she could stay all day. “Oh, I am scarcely ever complimentary,” Porphyria acknowledged, with a carefree, conspiratorial laugh, understanding a harsh critic better than a soft one – but she felt absurdly mellow now, and the smile she gave to Mr. Podmore was as warm and mild as any she had ever offered. “But I must admit your company has been a delight today. Both of yours,” she added (in case Mr. Podmore felt left out). They might have been close to strangers, but she felt quite at home here – she could have lingered in this exhibit happily all day.
So much the better – they were having proper artistic conversation now, and she wished she could stay all day. “Oh, I am scarcely ever complimentary,” Porphyria acknowledged, with a carefree, conspiratorial laugh, understanding a harsh critic better than a soft one – but she felt absurdly mellow now, and the smile she gave to Mr. Podmore was as warm and mild as any she had ever offered. “But I must admit your company has been a delight today. Both of yours,” she added (in case Mr. Podmore felt left out). They might have been close to strangers, but she felt quite at home here – she could have lingered in this exhibit happily all day.
RE: By Web Design - Sydney Podmore - May 17, 2025
Syd was mildly surprised to be lumped into the category of delightful company. Perhaps all he needed to do was keep introducing Miss Dempsey to different creatures as the key to being friends. "Well that felt complimentary," he mused with a smile. He finished raking up some of the debris that Bertram had scattered about, sweeping it toward the door. "But I agree," he added as he got closer. He was sure if he came back this way today that Bertram may have questions that Syd would not have the answer to, but hopefully when Miss Bixby came in, she could distract him with their book.
"You're welcome back as often as you like." It was an open invitation. "Bertram's stay with us is temporary, though." He warned. It was looking like half a year at the least, while his owner was abroad, but they could talk dreary poetry and compare literary pieces to their hearts' content for as long as the spider was housed at the zoo. "I'm sure Bertram would enjoy it." Syd shrugged a little as if to say, I would too.
"You're welcome back as often as you like." It was an open invitation. "Bertram's stay with us is temporary, though." He warned. It was looking like half a year at the least, while his owner was abroad, but they could talk dreary poetry and compare literary pieces to their hearts' content for as long as the spider was housed at the zoo. "I'm sure Bertram would enjoy it." Syd shrugged a little as if to say, I would too.
RE: By Web Design - Porphyria Dempsey - May 23, 2025
“Count upon its rarity,” she laughed, of her one nice word for him. Though of course she was grateful for Mr. Podmore’s invitation (and more conscious than usual of keeping on his good side, so that she could keep visiting Bertram and the like); but she wondered just how much Eavan had told him about all her previous visits, and her already proven fondness for the aviary. It might be that she had been coming to and fro from the zoo for quite a while without his explicit permission. She thought she had better not inquire, in case he began to find her odd.
“That’s a pity,” Phyri sighed, of Betram’s inevitable departure sooner rather than later. Personally, she would have exchanged any amount of winged horses or nifflers for a well-read Acromantula, but then she didn’t run the zoological gardens, and she thought perhaps Bertram would not stoop to be kept like this forever. “But then everything ends in tragedy, doesn’t it?” She added to Bertram as she bid him farewell today, and met Mr. Podmore to find her way back out. She half-wished she could have stayed longer. “And time flies, apparently.” Speaking of flying – Phyri added, an offhand non-sequitur to Mr. Podmore as they went: “Did I tell you I once lived as a wren?”
“That’s a pity,” Phyri sighed, of Betram’s inevitable departure sooner rather than later. Personally, she would have exchanged any amount of winged horses or nifflers for a well-read Acromantula, but then she didn’t run the zoological gardens, and she thought perhaps Bertram would not stoop to be kept like this forever. “But then everything ends in tragedy, doesn’t it?” She added to Bertram as she bid him farewell today, and met Mr. Podmore to find her way back out. She half-wished she could have stayed longer. “And time flies, apparently.” Speaking of flying – Phyri added, an offhand non-sequitur to Mr. Podmore as they went: “Did I tell you I once lived as a wren?”
RE: By Web Design - Sydney Podmore - June 2, 2025
Syd supposed he ought to have expected her answer linked to tragedy. He had been no better prepared for it than her compliment, and so he floundered, finally managing a chuckle. He was slowly getting used to her humor, found it oddly refreshing, if a bit morbid. At least she was different. He did mean it when he said she was welcome back at any time. Then again, she was friends with Eavan, he supposed she was already used to this.
He led the way back out of the staff side of the enclosures, making sure to lock up after them. (Bertram was not a flight risk, but as per usual, Syd was more worried about the people than the creatures.) As they stepped back outside, he held his hand up to the sun for a moment to let his eyes adjust. "You did not, but I think Eavan mentioned a friend in such a predicament in the past." He hadn't asked at the time, but to find out it was Miss Dempsey, he was far more intrigued now.
"What was it like?" Syd had never had the patience to master becoming an animagus on top of everything he was learning for his work at the hospital, but it was something he wondered about from time to time.
He led the way back out of the staff side of the enclosures, making sure to lock up after them. (Bertram was not a flight risk, but as per usual, Syd was more worried about the people than the creatures.) As they stepped back outside, he held his hand up to the sun for a moment to let his eyes adjust. "You did not, but I think Eavan mentioned a friend in such a predicament in the past." He hadn't asked at the time, but to find out it was Miss Dempsey, he was far more intrigued now.
"What was it like?" Syd had never had the patience to master becoming an animagus on top of everything he was learning for his work at the hospital, but it was something he wondered about from time to time.
RE: By Web Design - Porphyria Dempsey - June 20, 2025
“Oh, glorious,” Phyri answered dreamily. “And terrifying – every moment of existence felt dangerous –” (to be a tiny thrumming bird again, delicate of wing and trying to outrun fate in an immense, yawning world), “but I miss the liberty of it.”
“But it was a curse, an accident – so I daren’t try to become an animagus after that, in case I gained a less fulfilling shape.” She squinted out at some of the other enclosures in this area, thinking of how many worse creatures there were to be. Imagine trying to recreate the feeling of being a flying songbird and being stuck as a – sloth, or something.
“But it was a curse, an accident – so I daren’t try to become an animagus after that, in case I gained a less fulfilling shape.” She squinted out at some of the other enclosures in this area, thinking of how many worse creatures there were to be. Imagine trying to recreate the feeling of being a flying songbird and being stuck as a – sloth, or something.
RE: By Web Design - Sydney Podmore - June 24, 2025
Syd supposed he could see both sides. And since it had been a curse, finding a way to reverse it was also a concern, what if no counter method had been found? It had surely been mostly survival. Fortunately, she'd had Eavan, the veritable expert on birds, for help.
"I can understand why," to become an animagus and not have something with wings, or wind up as something clumsy would certainly have less appeal. "I always figured I just wasn't smart enough." Syd flashed her a self-depreciating smile. The process was intense, almost grueling, he didn't have the time or the energy to devote to it, not even before the zoo. "It might be helpful for me though, to maybe gain some understanding of how they think." Would it prove all that useful? It wasn't as if he was regulated down to the animals simple existence, there was still a human consciousness at the helm.
"I can understand why," to become an animagus and not have something with wings, or wind up as something clumsy would certainly have less appeal. "I always figured I just wasn't smart enough." Syd flashed her a self-depreciating smile. The process was intense, almost grueling, he didn't have the time or the energy to devote to it, not even before the zoo. "It might be helpful for me though, to maybe gain some understanding of how they think." Would it prove all that useful? It wasn't as if he was regulated down to the animals simple existence, there was still a human consciousness at the helm.
RE: By Web Design - Porphyria Dempsey - July 20, 2025
“Perhaps you should,” she agreed. Porphyria hardly thought the man stupid: in fact, he seemed generally rather sensible to her, with a good grounded head on his shoulders. (Not something she could say of every man of his age or place in society either, though the bar was low.)
“Otherwise, if you would ever like a trial transfiguration, I’d be happy to oblige,” Phyri offered, only half-joking. She wouldn’t have had the patience to become an animagus either, but she suspected people wouldn’t be quite so keen to allow themselves to be transformed or cursed into beasts without keeping their own mind intact. She had been rather lucky, herself, to have kept human speech. That would have been a tragedy. “Next time, perhaps,” she added, with a grin; for now, she would let him get on and that dangerous idea sink in.
“Otherwise, if you would ever like a trial transfiguration, I’d be happy to oblige,” Phyri offered, only half-joking. She wouldn’t have had the patience to become an animagus either, but she suspected people wouldn’t be quite so keen to allow themselves to be transformed or cursed into beasts without keeping their own mind intact. She had been rather lucky, herself, to have kept human speech. That would have been a tragedy. “Next time, perhaps,” she added, with a grin; for now, she would let him get on and that dangerous idea sink in.