#-> “That's right. You were the greatest great witch — far greater than us all. I miss you. Farewell”

[monards]

"I have already found the meaning of writing — that is to tell you: I do so wish you were here, too."

"Looks like everyone doesn't want the flame to go out, and I get it. It can't be helped. The last time we said farewell — you were there too — the witches said that long-lived witches would lose many things as the years went by. Life, death, love, and hate would cease to have much meaning. But that isn't true. Those are just words they used to comfort the companions who departed before them. Witches, in fact, treasure every infinitesimal flame and light that shines in this dark world bereft of hope all the more. They hold even the shadows that these flames would cast dear.

"You often said that you weren't our equal, but I've always believed you to be the cutest, most powerful witch amongst us. You often said that you left little behind, but the stories you left to us hold countless worlds. Even should a hundred years pass, or a thousand, even if the apocalypse that a certain astrologer witch worried about comes, even if all the long-lived witches die, the little light that emanates from these little worlds will not grow dim. That's right. You were the greatest great witch — far greater than us all. I miss you. Farewell."

WHICH 😭😭😭😭ONE 😭😭😭 OF 😭😭YOU 😭😭😭😭😭WROTE 😭😭😭😭THE 😭😭😭😭LASST😭😭😭😭 CHAPTER. 😭😭😭😭😭 WHO 😭😭😭😭😭

[bitch-for-a-rainbow]

So there's a blanddcheadcanons post that says that "Kara is the mortal avatar of Rao" and I really don't like it, especially in the context of SG 3x04 (The Faithful). At best, as was pointed out to me by a friend with whom I discussed this post, the House of El is likely blessed and somewhat sponsored by Rao, which probably doesn't do much but produce Krypton's greatest heroes, given what the word "El" **means** in Kryptonian. I'm interested in your thoughts on this (pls post your answer).

    I reject the headcannon solely because if it were true it would mean Coville was right and I fucking hate that bitch.

     In all seriousness, though, this is an idea I've seen a lot and I'm not a huge fan of. I don't know much about Raoism beyond what appears in the show and that which can be inferred off of the show. One thing I would point out though is that El in Kryptonian (while obviously being intended to mean God by the original comic writers) can mean Sun or Stars, and since the Kryptonians in the show are, as far as I can tell, monotheistic, and worshipped only one particular star, the El family is not necessarily named God. It would, however, signify their enormous prestige on Krypton and contribute to the famous El pride (or rather, arrogance). I’m not sure it would necessarily have to mean anything more than that-- that the Els are a respected house who have produced a variety of successful politicians, civil servants, and scientists. And (this time reaching a little bit) that they are perhaps so old and respected that their house name was once a title. 

      There is a certain allure to the theory, for sure. Kara is a paragon character. She always, always does what she thinks is right, regardless of the cost, personal or global, and regardless of what other people might think of it. She has a very direct moral compass, and there are only a handful of times when she doesn’t follow it, all of which involve saving Lena. Ship who you want, but it is notable that Kara routinely prioritzes Lena’s life over that of others given the rarity of that happening otherwise. She never even considered breaking Rick Thompson’s father out of prison when he kidnapped Alex, and all he’d committed was bank robbery. Kara has lines she does not cross (though murder is clearly not one of them). She is a character that has seen some of the worst that sentient life is capable of, has seen more death and suffering than most people could imagine, and she came out of it with an all-encompassing desire to protect others. She lives to give people hope. Plus, the humor of having Kara-- the one person most offended by the idea of being an Avatar of Rao-- turn out to be an Avatar of Rao is great.

       But, I would also say that having Kara want to do good because she is the avatar of a benevolent god is reductive and not particularly true to her character. It is true that helping and protecting people is a large part of the core of who Kara is. But there is a difference between altruism and the self-destructive, bordering of suicidal desperation to save absolutely everyone that Kara practices. And to anyone who doubts the suicidal bit, I direct you to the season 1 finale where Kara literally goes on a goodbye tour because she thinks if she goes out to fight Non she’ll die. She still goes because she has hope, but that hope is that she can at least save Earth with her life. She doesn’t fight because she is certain in the ultimate victory of good and justice. She does it because she more afraid to lose another family than she is to die. Kara doesn’t become Supergirl and risk her own life because she believes in good, she does it because she can’t stand to listen to people suffer-- because she has suffered. To use Alex’s words in 1x13 “You fight everyday to keep people from struggling like you have.” Notably also in 1x13, Kara wakes up from the Black Mercy and her first words are “Who did this to me?” and then she goes after Non in what could arguably be described as a homicidal rage-- a rage that is fueled entirely for personal reasons, not the greater good of Earth (though that comes as an added benefit), which is.... not very befitting the avatar of a benevolent god. 

     A major part of season 1 is Kara dealing with grief and rage. She nearly breaks a guy's arm in episode 6 because he screamed at her for damaging his car, to hell with the children he'd almost hit with it. In season 3's Midvale flashbacks we see her first put both hands through a lunch table, then attack Jake when she suspects him for Kenny's death. She gets better at controlling it as the seasons progress, but during Crisis she very nearly melts Lex. Also not particularly godly of her. 

     Then there is the fact that so much of who Kara is is shaped by fear: fear of the government, fear of humanity, fear of abandonment, and fear of herself. In her civilian life, Kara is, for the most part, unnoticeable. She's polite, soft-spoken, doesn't wear a lot of bold colors or styles, and is often a pushover. As shown by her encounter with Red Kryptonite, Kara would not dress or speak the same way to people without the pressure of hiding her identity (though much of her dialogue is purely the loss of her "don't be an asshole" filter, some of it is stuff she had every right to say before and just didn't). I have always found that episode to be very interesting purely for the fact that Kara doesn't actually seem to be seeking harm on others so much as seeking their attention. Her argument with Alex is almost entirely about how much she hates having to hide and pretend to be less than she is. Kara drops Cat off the balcony and then catches her. She attacks the police when they point weapons at her but doesn't kill or even hurt them that badly, instead of destroying the car they're using as shelter. Red-K removed her inhibitions, made her angrier, yes, but if her goal was to actually hurt people, she could have done so-- would have done so, and with great ease. She goes to a public bar and uses super strength to smash bottles by flicking peanuts. Why do that at a crowded bar? Why not just flick potato chips at the windows in her own apartment?

      This is Kara at her absolute worst-- but does she seek out the DEO agents who shot her out of the sky? Does she go after Maxwell Lord or Non? No. She tries to make people pay attention to her. Her most shameful and hideous desire is for people to give her respect. (Admittedly, respect gained through fear, but still.). Kara's a nice person-- much, much nicer than average-- but a lot of that "nice" is just her avoiding conflict to avoid attention.

      Kara is a good person. Kara inspires people. But that is because Kara gets up every day and chooses to be good and to inspire. It's one of the reasons I enjoy Non as a villain so much-- he and Astra are Kara's narrative foils. They also remember Krypton and grieve its loss. They also were trapped in the Phantom Zone. But where Kara had the Danvers to convince her that some good people existed and would risk themselves just to help others, Non and Astra had Alura sentencing them to eternal suffering rather than helping them save their planet (through the means they thought necessary) and then landed on Earth and found it headed on the same path as the planet they'd just lost. Kara had people to help her grieve. Non and Astra were surrounded by misery. They lost hope. Kara discovered it.

     Kara is the Paragon of Hope because she has been hopeless. Because she has suffered so much, seen so much, and because she chooses to believe in a better future. She didn't have hope her first time in the Phantom Zone. She didn't even have hope for a while on earth. From what we can gather, Kara's choice to start actually believing in the future was a gradual shift that occurred sometime after Kenny's death and has lasted her ever since. For Kara, hope is learned. She chose to hope and she won't let it go, and to assign that incredible victory off to her being a God is an insult to her growth and to her character. 

   Now I personally thought “The Faithful” handled this concept very well. 3x04 is one of my favorite episodes of television in general, let alone in Supergirl. Season 3 is my second favorite season, and that says a lot for its good episodes when the bad of season 3 is so, so very bad (To say nothing of the episode to episode production value, we have the waste of Argo, Mon El’s return as obviously he’s grown he has a beard Mon El, and whatever the hell was going on with Kryptonian genetic engineering eclipse causing witches). To this day I don’t know why Kara had magic dreams. The show did nothing to explain it and I can’t imagine up a reason. 

     But “The Faithful” works because it highlights the whole paragon part of who Kara is. When you realize that every person in the room of Coville’s cult is a person she has personally saved-- that hits hard. Especially since only a fraction of the people she’s saved would ever set foot inside that building with the totally not-creepy, entirely wholesome way they deliver the invitations. (“Your daughter is special. She has been chosen. As have you.”) It works because it focuses on how the average human must view Kara, the ones who don’t see her argue with her sister over potstickers and crush her phone when she gets mad. It works because of how desperately hard Kara tries to be a human. It works because the writers know that we, the audience, do not see Kara as anything but a regular person with irregular abilities: a kind and remarkably devoted person, but not a god. 

[ptersparkers]

angel (chilling adventures of sabrina)

summary: as the only pure mortal in the fright club, there seems to be an influx of interesting things happening in greendale that you are unaware of. a certain prince of hell happens to find that interesting. 

warnings: typos, probably.

a/n: ummm maybe i binge watched caos this past week and maybe i’ve fallen in love. i’ll let you figure that out. also this is my first time writing for caos (and not marvel, lol) so let me know what you think!!’ pls give feedback thank u. 

add yourself to my tasglist! 

ps: this gif is mine so if you use it, please credit!  

When all was said and done, Sabrina and Caliban had come to amicable terms regarding the shared responsibility of ruling Hell.

It didn’t take much convincing for Caliban to relinquish his prior ambition after learning his rule would end within a day, as the Pagans would have defeated him and taken Earth for themselves. Sabrina’s ability to show him the time loop she was once trapped in gave him a reason to quit the fighting and rule Hell on an equal scale, no questions asked.

Plus, he started to like the bleach blonde witch.

You, on the other hand, felt like you had missed out on the most important plot piece of the greatest film of all time.

While Harvey, Theo, and Roz had known about Sabrina’s secret since her sixteenth birthday, you were left in the dust about the shenanigans that went on around Greendale. You were truly the only mortal with no magic or witch ties, but the other four couldn’t say the same. Sabrina was a witch, Theo’s ancestor Dorothea often visited him in time of need, Harvey’s family had a history of witch hunting (which he does not partake), and Roz’s ability to foreshadow the future with a simple touch proved to be more useful than she had originally thought.

You were a mortal. A regular high school student whose biggest problems were studying for four AP classes every day while balancing cheerleading and other extracurriculars.

It wasn’t until recently that the strangeness came to light. What the Fright Club had failed to mention was that Sabrina had continuously hexed you in order to keep you out of harm’s way by leaving a small bag filled with her Aunt Hilda’s concoctions in your bedroom. It worked its magic when you slept, an invisible blanket covering your eyes that made their strange disappearances seem normal.

But it seems like that hex was fading. Sabrina neglected to change it out every other week due to being preoccupied by Caliban’s yearning, the Dark Lord’s agenda, and Lilith’s drama regarding Hell. Now you sat with wonder and couldn’t help but feel left out of a great adventure that your friends embarked on.

A month had passed since Sabrina and Caliban had made amends. You grew to understand the nature of it and the four filled you in on all you had missed with a guilt hanging over their heads. It was hard to hear and understand, but ultimately you couldn’t hate your best friends for wanting to keep you safe.

You knew not to question Sabrina’s whereabouts if you weren’t able to find her because she was most likely taking care of business down below. You still had yet to meet Caliban and the only information you gathered from him was what the gang caught you up on and Sabrina’s grievances whenever she felt annoyed by him.

“You know, this is all a weird concept,” you said. “I mean, I guess I always had my faith and doubt kept me guessing about what’s really out there, and it’s really out there,” you said, stealing a fry from Theo’s plate. The five of you sat in Dr. Cerberus’s diner and decided you weren’t going to do anything that wasn’t normal for teenagers.

“It still creeps me out,” Harvey admitted. “Hell was worse than I could’ve imagined.”

“Caliban’s got things under control and Lilith’s doing just fine being an advisor,” Sabrina said. “I don’t think she’s mad about the ruling situation anymore. Lucifer’s still doing his bidding but I think they’ve reconnected.”

“That’s...good?”

Sabrina chuckled. “Trust me, it’ll take some getting used to.”

“That is an absolute understatement.”

The door to the diner chimed while you fished inside of your purse for a quarter.

“I’m gonna go pick out a song, any requests?”

“You’re the music genius,” said Roz. You smiled and walked towards the front of the diner.

As you approached the machine and put the quarter inside of the slot, a tall man with sand colored hair loomed over you and watched.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

“Not really. Just observing.” You quirked an eyebrow, not recognizing his face despite knowing everyone in the small town.

“You’re not from here, are you?” you asked.

He chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Greendale’s a pretty small town. It’s easy to spot someone who’s not a local,” you replied.

“Well in that case, I’m not from around these parts. Far from, actually.” He looked at your hand and then the juke box. “What song are you choosing?”

You pried your gaze away from him to look back at the machine and put the coin in the slot, choosing “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” before looking back at him.

“Satisfied?”

The handsome stranger looked at you and didn’t try to hide the face that he was checking you out by letting his eyes look at your body up and down. Not that you minded.

“Very,” he said with a sail try voice before walking around the corner. “The name’s Caliban.”

“Y/N,” you replied. You raised your eyebrow before walking back to the other four and sat down in your previous seat only for the handsome stranger to approach the table.

“Caliban,” Sabrina greeted. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Nice choice,” Roz commented, hearing the song play throughout the diner.

“That’s Caliban, as in the Caliban?” you asked.

“It’s good to know you lot have been talking about me,” he said, crossing his hands over his chest. “I decided to take a break from, you know, and come see what you love so much about Greendale.”

“She knows about Hell,” said Sabrina.

“Funny how I’ve never seen her there, or anywhere with you four, as a matter of fact,” Caliban replied.

“It’s a long story,” you said, sipping on your chocolate milkshake. “Not an important one, though.”

“Contrary,” he began. “You’re the first purely true mortal I’ve met in Hell or otherwise with no ancestral ties to witches or greater magic. That’s pretty important to me.” You blushed, not knowing what to say or do next.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Harvey asked with a slight attitude. Caliban shifted his focus from you to him, which made your body relax a little bit.

“I didn’t come here for business or to whisk Sabrina away, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m just here to see what makes Greendale so special, though I think I’m starting to see why.” Caliban spared no expense and was not shy about looking in your direction as he spoke his last statement.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sabrina said sternly. “You are not going to get any ideas, are you?”

Caliban chuckled and put his hands up in defense. “Whatever you say, Sabrina.” He began to walk away but not before turning around and winking at you. “See you around.”

Caliban walked out the door and you didn’t bother asking where he was going next.

“Dear Satan, he’s so annoying,” Sabrina said, exasperated. “It’s like he’s made it his personal mission to make my life, well, a living Hell for lack of a better term.”

“At least he’s not hellbent on defeating you anymore,” Theo reasoned. “I think he’s trying to get to know you a little bit better.”

“And he’s doing it by flirting with my best friend?” Sabrina asked. She put her head on your shoulder and and ate a fry from her plate. “You know I love you, right?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m not saying you need to stay away from Caliban, but you need to be careful around him. At least until we’ve worked together long enough for me to trust him completely.”

“Loud and clear, Brina,” you said. “I still can’t really wrap my head around this whole thing. I can’t watch horror films about Hell and witches the same ever again.”

The Fright Club laughed.

“It’ll take some getting used to,” Harvey said. “I mean, I was pretty apprehensive at first. Remember when Brina and I broke up and I spent every day at your place after school?” You nodded. “That’s when she told me she was a witch. It was kind of hard to wrap my head around until everything with the Pagans and angels happened.” You nodded, soaking in his words. “Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with feeling like you don’t understand. I don’t even understand most of it, if I’m being completely honest.”

“In think that’s enough food for me,” said Roz who pushed her plate to the middle. “Seeing Hell with my own eyes really suppressed my appetite.”

”Oh, shoot,” you said, looking at the clock mounted on the wall. “I have to head home and help my mom. I promised her I’d help clean the kitchen and I’ve got to be home in ten minutes. Can I pay you guys back?”

“Don’t worry about it. See you tomorrow?” said Theo.

“Count on it!”

***

You saw Caliban not long after your first encounter with him. The idea of him being the ruler of Hell (alongside Sabrina) was still a hard concept to understand and you weren’t quite sure if you were supposed to bow in his presence or not.

“Unnecessary,” he said when you asked. Caliban sat across from you at the local coffee shop, offering to walk you when you had caught his eye. You harbored a hot latte and he held a blueberry scone in his hand. “I think you mortals like that glory.”

You shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Hell doesn’t have formalities when it comes to celebration other than referring to each other by one’s title,” he explained. “It’s just easier that way.”

“You make it seem like Hell’s a relaxed place to be.”

He pinched a piece of his scone off at put it in his mouth, smirking at your statement.

“Oh, far from it. As righteous as demons are, we’re not that shallow.”

“It’s kind of hard to believe you’re made out of clay,” you said, taking a sip of your latte.

“Why do you say that?”

“I dunno,” you said. You reached over the table to poke his bicep. “You seem so real. So human.”

Normally, Caliban would’ve been offended by such a comparison. But he smiled.

“I suppose. I don’t question my creation. I accept it and try to live as adventurously as I can.”

“I hope to,” you said. “Getting out of Greendale, I mean. It’s my biggest dream.”

“You’d want to leave this town?” he asked.

“Well, yeah,” you replied. “I have nothing going for me here. I’m powerless and there’s no reason for me to stay where I’m not needed.”

To his surprise, Caliban felt his heart jolt at your comment. He was wordless for a moment.

“Where will you go?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe somewhere on the west coast. Maybe I’ll still be in New England. College is the perfect opportunity to explore the world and come back home for a few weeks at a time.”

“This is where Lucifer fell, you know,” said Caliban. “The sacred place is hidden deep in the woods where there’s a clearing of rocks and stone. That’s why this place is driven by witches of the Church of Night.”

“I still can’t believe the Devil is walking among us,” you said, shaking your head. “My mom used to force me to go to Sunday school, and I suppose I did have faith. It’s all meta now.”

“Are you still a believer?” he asked.

“I kind of have to be, considering you’re here.”

Caliban smiled.

“Do Heaven and Hell ever interact withe each other?”

“Not exactly,” he began. “We’re on civil relations but don’t want anything to do with each other. They stay up there so long as we stay down here. I’ve never encountered an angel before.”

“You haven’t?”

“They aren’t allowed to come down to Earth unless absolutely necessary,” he explained. “Not really sure why but it’s one of their more important rules.”

“I think I have a headache,” you teased. All of this knowledge about celestial beings truly made your senses adapt to your surroundings in Greendale and you were more than aware of the fact that God was real.

“I should go,” Caliban said, standing up. “I need to escort some souls back to Hell and send some up north.”

“You mean not all souls who are sold to the Devil go to Hell?”

“Sabrina and I negotiated that,” he said. “No more soul-selling. The ones that preexist will be discussed by her and I, and we decide if the punishment is worth the crime. I don’t think someone who sold their soul for a good cause needs to spend all eternity down in Hell. That’s why she comes down there all the time.”

“Huh,” you said at a loss for words.

Caliban smiled. “I’ll see you around, princess.”

***

The next time you see Caliban was with the rest of the Fright Club. He was wearing a linen button down with several buttons popped open, exposing his bare chest with black slacks and white sneakers. His hair was tousled and you swore this was the most human you had ever seen him.

“Ambrose is being a little paranoid and wants me to check out the edge of Greendale for threats,” Sabrina said. “I think he’s just worried about me co-ruling Hell while living on Earth. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“You say that like it’s just another day in Greendale,” you said.

Sabrina shrugged. “I mean, it kind of is.”

“Well, do you need us to do anything?” Roz asked.

“I want you to come with me, if that’s okay. Harvey, Theo, and Y/N, you don’t need to come. I’m sure this is Ambrose being Ambrose.”

“Are you sure, Brina?” Harvey asked.

She waved him off. “It’s fine, really. Roz and I will spend a few hours making sure things are normal and we’ll meet back at my place for dinner? Aunt Hilda’s kind of expecting us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” Theo said enthusiastically.

Sabrina gave the group one last smile before she took Roz’s hands and teleported out of the room, which left the four of you.

“I can give you a ride, Theo,” Harvey offered before looking at you. “And you too. I don’t mind driving to the other side of town.”

“I can take her home,” Caliban said. Harvey looked at you and Caliban spoke again, noticing his hesitation. “Part of our deal was that I made sure her friends remain unharmed. That includes Y/N.”

Harvey seemed to accepted this answer and grabbed his keys from his pocket before bidding you a goodbye. He and Theo drove off in his truck before you and Caliban left in the opposite direction.

“So, uh, do you want to come in?” you asked, awkwardly standing by the front door after he insisted on walking you in.

“I don’t mind,” he said. You fumbled with the keys before opening the door with a shaky hand and let him inside. It was the first time you were letting a boy into your home (other than Harvey and Theo, but your relationship with them was strictly platonic) and you felt a little more nervous than usual. After figuring out you had liked Caliban more than you originally expected, there was nothing you could do to stop your heart from beating just a little too fast when we he was around. Him being in your house did nothing to help the situation.

As for Caliban, his usual overwhelming desire for a carnal relationship was nowhere to be found when he stepped into your house. He looked at the white walls decorated with family photos and admired the ones with you as a child. Caliban watched as you put the house keys in a glass dish and followed you to your bedroom.

It was odd, Caliban thought, to feel nothing but tranquility. He was almost always hyperaware of his surroundings and wary of demons and souls roaming past him in Hell, but it was just the two of you. Two bodies under one roof.

“My parents won’t be home until later tonight. N-Not that we have to do anything!” you added. “I just mean they’d freak out because they haven’t met you before.”

Caliban chuckled. “I wasn’t planning on making a move, if that’s what you were wondering.”

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Your room suits you,” he said. Caliban admired the photos on your nightstand and polaroids pinned to a brown board on the wall filled with memories from your past with the Fright Club and other friends and family members. He saw a stack of books beside your bed and a fish tank sitting by the window, your closet doors closed, and decorative pieces that highlighted your personality.

“Thanks,” you said, laying down on your best. “You can sit, you know.”

Caliban took this opportunity to lay next to you. When you felt the bed dip, you averted your eyes to the ceiling.

“What are you thinking about?” Caliban asked after a long pause of silence.

“How fast life changes,” you replied. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, but with all that I know, how can I keep all of this celestial knowledge a secret from my parents? The world is always doubting Heaven and Hell but I know the truth. I don’t know if being purely mortal is helping me out in this situation either.”

“You’re an innocent,” Caliban said, turning his head to look at you. “So pure and clean. Your soul has been untouched by neither light or night and it’s probably the one thing that’s going to save you in the future.”

You turned your head to meet his gaze. “I’m still powerless.”

“Maybe in one way, but not completely. You have no witchcraft magic but you have intelligence and intuition. You know not to meddle with things that aren’t of your concern.”

You were silent.

“What else are you thinking about?”

“How much I like spending time with you,” you confessed. “But it’s hard, you know. You’ll be in Hell most of the time and you’re made of clay, for crying out loud.” Caliban chuckled. “I didn’t really think you’d be around as often as you are.”

Caliban was silent.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You,” he replied. “I’m always thinking about you. I used to think morality was a disease, but it’s not. It’s a rationale, just like any demonic presence.” Caliban moved closed to you.

“I think about what love is and how I don’t know what it really means.”

“I think love means different things to different people,” you said. “I think it’s mutual respect and loyalty. It’s knowing details about someone, big and small. It’s about being together but knowing you can be independent. Love is hard and it takes time. Love is not instant.”

“You’re pretty wise for an innocent,” he said.

You laughed. “Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic.”

“Maybe not.”

Caliban lifted his body to hover above yours, your chests barely touching as his eyes gazed right over your lips. You dared not to move and Caliban hesitantly leaned down further so that your lips barely brushed against one another, the goosebumps on your skin taking affect. Because you weren’t pulling away, he took it as a silent signal and pressed his chaste lips against your soft ones.

There was no spark. No magic and no fireworks. There was only you and Caliban, and there was no other way you would’ve wanted your first kiss to feel like. Time slowed down as Caliban relaxed by your touch and your hands roamed his neck. The cold outdoor air was replaced by the warmth of Caliban’s body and when he pulled away, he let his thumb stroke your cheek as he cupped the side of your face.

“You are, dare I say, an angel.

“That’s a compliment, considering I know how much you despise them.”

He laughed. “Perhaps I’ll make an exception.”

Caliban leaned down once more to press a tender kiss to your forehead and you closed your eyes in bliss, happy to accept the good that came with the craziness of the last month. You looked at his structured jaw and grinned at his loving gaze, letting out a tired laugh.

“Perhaps.”

[tvandenneagram]

American Horror Story Coven: Cordelia Foxx - Type 1w9

Cordelia is caring, gentle and intelligent. She is the polar opposite to Fiona and wants to use her power for good, rather than her own self-interests.

At her best, Cordelia becomes more confident in herself and her abilities, as we see when she becomes the Supreme. Cordelia is always very protective of the witches in the Coven and does whatever is necessary to protect them. 

At her worst, Cordelia is not above going to the dark side for the greater good. Cordelia also has a tendency to be passive-aggressive to Fiona as we see when she often makes sardonic comments towards her. She also resents Fiona for her neglecting her, and even tries to get Zoe to kill her which goes against her moral code.

A lot of Cordelia’s personality stems from her childhood with Fiona. Fiona was very critical of Cordelia and constantly criticised her for not being powerful enough. As a result, Cordelia’s powers were subdued due to her self-doubt and fear. After Cordelia loses her eye-sight she gains the ability of ‘second sight’ which makes her more confident in her powers. Cordelia’s full powers are finally realised with help from Myrtle and she becomes a much better Supreme than Fiona ever was.

1s have a great quality in that they can do what is necessary for the greater good, even if it means going against their own interests. We see this as Cordelia is extremely self-sacrificing and often puts the feelings of others above her own. For example, she purposely blinds herself after regaining her sight so that she can regain the ability of ‘second sight’ to help the Coven. In Apocalypse, she also kills herself so Mallory can become Supreme and stop Michael Langdon.

1s are often very idealistic and steadfast in their principles. Cordelia always wants to do what’s right for the Coven and according to her own moral code. I think she is portrayed as the opposite of Fiona (someone who cares mainly about her own self-interests), as she cares more about doing the right thing than gaining power.

Cordelia is constantly blaming herself for any failures of the Coven. She is very critical of herself and feels like she should be better. In Apocalypse, she believes that letting Queenie go to the Hotel and die was her greatest failure. 1s are generally very self-critical and guilty if they feel they have done the wrong thing, as we see with Cordelia.

Cordelia shows her wing 9 as she is more detached and reserved than a 1w2 would be. She also is more timid and conflict-averse due to her 9 wing.

Tri-type: 1w9 - 2w1 - 6w7

Some quotes to describe Cordelia’s motivations

"I'm high all right, but it's not the drugs. And rest assured, you will be accountable for every single betrayal, no matter how deep you think your secrets are buried. Now get out of here. Get out!"

"My effort to rescue Queenie is by far my greatest failure as Supreme."

"Because I'm the f*****g Supreme!"

“You think there’s only winning and losing, success and failure. But failure is when you’ve lost any semblance of hope.”

"When are you gonna die and stop ruining my life?"

Ariel: “What I think, Cordelia, is that you are your mother's daughter, who I knew fairly well. You may come with a kinder facade, but deep down, you're nothing more than a weak, frightened woman, just like Fiona.” Cordelia: “With a flick of my finger, I could crush your larynx and tear it from your throat. Do not for one second think I am weak. I have humored you men, and coddled your fragile egos, but in no way does that mean you actually have a say. I outrank you. I can destroy you. So I suggest you fall in line, because I am still your Supreme.”

Myrtle Snow: “I'm trying to give you une demi tasse de realite, darling. Let's be honest. Living in Fiona's shadow is a challenge. What are your options when your mother's Hillary Clinton? Between us chickens, no matter how hard I worked at it, I never felt special, either. But with my reemergence from the flames - look at me, I'm fabulous, reinvigorated, one never knows what the universe has in store for us!” Cordelia: “Oh, stop, stop talking, you are insane, my god, I am an absolute failure! Everything that Fiona says is true! I don't belong here anymore, I don't belong anywhere”

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #209: The Resurrection Stone

July, 1981

“The Resurrection Stone: will it save the universe -- or destroy it?”

Well, the universe hasn’t been destroyed, at least circa the comics I read this morning. But it hasn’t really been saved either.

Still, pretty intriguing tagline. Pretty intriguing cover.

And written by J.M. DeMatteis. One of the Kraven’s Last Hunt guys. He doesn’t seem to do a lot of Avengers.

Let’s see how he do Earth’s Mightiest Team of Specifically This Four On the Cover.

We start with some silent intriguing intrigue as an alien ship crashes into Nevada and an alien crawls from the alien wreckage. Instead of distributing rings to people, he gets shot by a green guy who likes purple. I sure can’t think of several people that this applies to.

The shooter checks some possibly alien PDA but then beams up as the ship explodes.

How baffling.

Ok, J.M. DeMatteis. You have my interest.

So we start chapter one-

Chapter one? What is it with fill-ins and putting chapters in Avengers books. That three dooms one from a while back also did this.

Anyway, chapter one of this normal length Avengers adventure: “Love... and Death!”

So on specifically April 10th, 1981 2:17 PM (a fact which we must firmly ignore in these sliding timescale days), Beast has brought an old flame to Avengers Mansion to meet Wonder Man, Vision, and Scarlet Witch.

Presumably all of the other Avengers couldn’t make it. Or Beast didn’t want them meeting Vera.

Oh, and she’s not a new old flame.

Vera Cantor goes back to X-Men #19 in 1966. She knew him before he blue it! And she was the one who got away because mutant biz kept getting in the way.

But they had a chance meeting in a Soho bar and they’re giving it another shot!

I guess Beast is finally settling down from his wild party dating multiple women at a time days.

And y’know what? He and Vera are cute together.

Beast is exuberantly in love with her. He’s apparently been talking about nothing else for weeks.

Scarlet Witch: “Vision -- just look at the Beast’s eyes -- I’ve never seen them sparkle so. He must be in love.”

Beast is so excited he’s bouncing on the couch and jumping all over the place and bumping into Jarvis. Knocking the tea tray out of the butler’s hands.

Beast, pls. Reign in.

He does manage to catch the tray in his feet though. No spilling.

Its a bit weird that Jarvis is here to be bumped into. He’s supposed to have one of his days off to visit his mom and get some of that “near-mythical Yorkshire pudding.”

But he brushes off the question with concern over the bad impression all of this is giving the guest.

Vera doesn’t mind though. She’s used to his obstreperous (“noisy and difficult to control”) nature and finds how energetic he is to be part of why he’s so cute.

The blue fuzz surely does not hurt!

Oh. And then Vera takes a sip of the tea Jarvis brought and immediately keels over dead.

The butler did it??

Jarvis. You made it too strong!

No, no. Surely not. Jarvis would never make such an error or miss out on Yorkshire pudding.

“Jarvis” is actually... A SKRULL!

Beast wastes no time slamming the Skrull into the wall but said Skrull says ‘hey you want the woman to live again maybe keep your hands to yourself.’

And Beast backs off, sensing some truth in the Skrull’s tone.

The Skrull: “Ah -- that’s a bit more like it. Even in this vile atmosphere, I do so value my ability to breathe!”

By the by the by, this guy goes unnamed until 2008 in a Secret Invasion infobook but I’m not about that. His name is Jaddak.

Jaddak channels his inner-Darkseid and sits in the comfiest chair provocatively and begins on THE TALE OF THE RESURRECTION STONE!

Seems that millennia ago there was a space civilization in space that merged high science and high sorcery to bring an epoch of peace and plenitude to all then known worlds.

The epoch of peace and plentitude looks a lot like someone jammed Medieval knights and castles into rocket times.

Which I guess fits the whole union of science and magic thing.

And then the greatest scientist-wizard, Tus'Au, invented the Resurrection Stone and ruined everything.

The stone, as the name implied, could bring life back to the dead. And while that doesn’t seem too impressive by today’s standards where plot devices to resurrect the dead are so numerous (including just teleporting out of heaven) that it doesn’t bear counting, remember that this was an earlier, more innocent time. A filler time.

Everyone wanted this Resurrection Stone and a great war ignited that eventually ruined a thousand, thousand planets.

Amidst that nonsense, the stone itself was lost forever.

Until an Anthigorite archeologist named Krru, like, did some serious research. Around about 5,000 years worth of research. And thanks to all his book learning, he eventually found the stone.

Which was unfortunate because Jaddak had been stalking him this whole time, sure that he’d eventually find it.

He chased Krru over twelve solar systems, finally blasting him out of the sky over Earth. But when Jaddak searched Krru’s ship and checked the recorder-log, as we saw in the opening two pages, he learned that Krru had decided that the Resurrection Stone was inherently corruptive and should have remained lost.

You know an ancient magical stone is bad news when an archeologist goes ‘actually you don’t belong in a museum.’

So when Krru was shot down, as a last ditch effort, he broke the stone in two and sent both halves into Earth’s past so they’d be lost forever.

I have so many questions.

If they were sent to the past then they’d be in the present now unless destroyed in the past. That’s how time works.

Two, dick move, Krru. You think this thing is inherently corruptive and you drop it into Earth’s past, possibly altering the timeline? Fuck you.

But with the stones in the past forever inaccessible clearly, Jaddak decided, hey this should be the Avengers’ problem and not mine.

Jaddak: “I knew then that I needed... pawns. Powerful pawns.”

Wonder Man: “Pawns... as in -- Avengers. And that’s why you struck down an innocent woman?!”

Jaddak: “It seemed a splendid idea at the time!”

Pffffffft.

Ok, I know. I know. This is a terrible situation in-universe but also out of universe because they brought back Vera only to immediately stuff her into the fridge.

But this skrull going ‘look it seemed like a good idea at the time’ cracks me up.

Seemed like a good idea doesn’t cut the mustard with Wonder Man who just hauls off and punches Jaddak into the bookcase.

Vision even verbally pats him on the back for it.

Vision: “Well played, Simon. -- There was no need to listen to this madman's rantings any longer.”

But as the Avengers congregate to stomp on Jaddak’s head a few times, I presume, Beast stops them.

Cradling Vera’s body he says he’ll do anything to bring her back.

;__;

And that brings us to chapter two: “DOOM in the DARK AGES!”

Let me just get ahead of any hypothetical questions I wouldn’t even be able to hear until after the fact anyway. Tragically Doctor Doom does not show up.

Whoof, a lot of exposition at the beginning of chapter 2. Because a lot of stuff happened off-panel, between pages.

Real Jarvis had been contacted to make sure he’s okay. The four Avengers took a Quinjet to the Fantastic Four and told Reed Richards what’s going on. Reed went ‘sure I’ll lend you Doctor Doom’s time machine and send you to the coordinates a SKRULL gave you.’ And Jaddak went to go wait in his spaceship with Vera’s body.

So now the Avengers are in September 16, 1348, England. Prompting Vision to start giving a lecture on the bubonic plague.

Scarlet Witch: “Darling, please. Not now.”

Save it for the bedroom, Vizh.

The locals respond, understandably enough, with hostility to the people that just appeared in thin air dressed like clowns. They call the Avengers demons and unholy creatures and tell them to tell a wizard Devlunn to fuck off and that he can’t have any more of their dead.

Wanda decides that explaining time travel and superheroes from the FUTURE is more trouble than its worth. Instead, she plays along.

Scarlet Witch: “Devlunn? We are far greater than that upstart! He is a mere wind -- we are the storm!”

And then she fires off some of her bolts to cow the villagers so she can ask if anyone wants to take her to “this weakling Devlunn.”

See Wanda figured out based on the one comment that someone toying with the dead might be linked to the half of the Resurrection Stone they’re here to find. Or one would hope someone toying with the dead has a dumb magic reason for it!

One of the villagers does volunteer to take Wanda to Devlunn.

Villager: “I pray you four are as powerful as you appear -- for it will take great magicks indeed to best this lunatic child.”

Because, yup, Devlunn is a ten-year old child.

And yup, he has half of the Resurrection Stone.

He also has a big crowd of locals begging him to return their dead since they did promise to follow him and give him all that they own. Really, that’s a fair trade for some moldy old corpses, right?

Devlunn: “Why should I listen to you? When this talisman fell from the sky and whispered to me -- I knew then it could make me a god! And gods do as they please!”

Welp.

Beast: “No one should play god, Devlunn. -- Least of all obnoxious little boys! C’mon guys -- let’s get this over with!”

And Wonder Man punches the tower Devlunn is standing on and Vision SOLAR BEAMs it and a ten year old child falls off a tower.

And then he just stops in midair and floats.

Not sure why the Resurrection Stone also has flying powers. That seems beyond the scope of what it was designed to do.

That’s like if you had a scroll of fireball that also did your taxes.

Yes, that would be amazing. But the two things aren’t related things.

Anyway, Devlunn takes these four weirdos in stride.

Devlunn: “Ah -- so I’ve impressed you with my little trick! Good! For, you see, I know who you are! You are spirits from heaven to test me to see if I’m worthy of godhood -- to see if my talisman can do more than merely hold me on high like some wingless bird! You wish a show of strength -- a little play! And what you wish -- Devlunn-the-god shall grant!”

And then he sicks a horde of zombies on the fearless foursome.

The four realize the truth of Devlunn’s half of the Resurrection Stone. Because this is a cool magic artifact that conceptually splits in half instead of just physically or in terms of output or whatever.

Devlunn’s half gives life to the dead but only life without the spark of the soul. Aka, zombies.

Also, not very impressive zombies. They’re more pitiable than formidable. And Devlunn isn’t much of a necromancer.

The Avengers fight them. Well, except for Vision. Vision just lets them flail against him ineffectually.

Beast rushes through the pack of zombies, even grabbing one with his thighs to toss out of the way?, towards Devlunn and then takes the 1/2 Resurrection Stone like candy from a baby.

Revealing Devlunn to not be a great and powerful wizard but rather a very sad child.

Devlunn: “My stone give it to me! Give it back, I say! I was... nothing until it came to me! My family -- my friends -- all died! But the stone made me important! It gave me control over death! It made me safe! Please give it back! Please -- I want to be a god! I have to be a god!”

And then he collapses to the ground and starts crying while the Avengers are whisked away into the future by Reed.

So, that’s sad.

And I don’t imagine chapter three (“Rosenblatt’s Dance!”) is going to be any cheerier.

It’s now April 13, 1945. Dachau.

So. Yeah.

The Avengers blink into existence right in the middle of some Allied troops chasing some Nazis. And not being ones to miss a chance to go ape shit on some Nazis, Wonder Man goes ape shit on some Nazis.

Unlike the dark ages peeps, the Allied soldiers see some random people with superpowers wearing bright clothes and go ‘ah, superheroes’ and ask if they’re with the Invaders or the Liberty Legion.

Wonder Man: “Right. I’m... uh... Captain America.”

Phew. Timeline secure.

Anyway, they’re glad to see some superheroes because they’ve got a messy situation at Dachau. And its nothing that punching Nazis can fix.

So, yeah this is set at a concentration camp so its not going to be particularly happy.

The one who has the other half of the Resurrection Stone is a man named Rosenblatt. And this half of the stone also has half the power of the full stone. But in this case it returns the soul to a lifeless husk.

And Rosenblatt has used it to revive his dead wife and daughters and he’s joyfully dancing with their lifeless bodies while they beg him to let them go and free them of this existence.

It’d be really messed up if the usual superhero methods had to be applied here but thankfully the less employed but still common superhero empathy is in the quiver.

Beast approaches the guy and just talks to him.

Beast: “You have to set their souls free.”

Rosenblatt: “Are you the devil, come to take them? Well -- they’ve been in hell long enough. They’ll never be yours!”

Beast: “Look at them, my friend -- they will never be yours either. Not the way you knew them. The way you cherished them. Give me the jewel. P-please...”

And his words get through to the man who hands the half Resurrection Stone off to Beast.

And as before, the instant they have the stone, Reed yanks them forward in time.

Y’know. This only occurred to me on my second read. Maybe if Reed hadn’t instantly pulled them out of that time, it would have occurred to Beast ‘hey wait I have both halves now, I could combine them and bring this guy’s family back to life for real and not in some cursed half existence.’

Doesn’t really work with how the book goes, but it’s a thought.

And now for the thrilling conclusion: Chapter 4 The Cost!

April 10th, 1981, SPACE.

So we’re back in the then present.

A Quinjet flies into space, as Quinjets can apparently do, to meet with Jaddak’s spaceship. Jaddak contacts them over the space Zoom and tells Beast that he’ll have to teleport over alone with the Resurrection Stone.

The other Avengers think this is reeeeeaaally fishy and don’t really like the idea of letting Jaddak get the Resurrection Stone but they can’t tell Beast what to do. This is his weird fill-in issue quest and it has to be his decision.

So Beast teleports over alone. And finds himself in a chamber with a video screen. Skrull ain’t taking any chances.

He’s hidden behind an unbreachable wall. Through the video screen he tells Beast to deposit the stone in a portal which will send it over to the skrull who will test it for authenticity.

Then, he’ll use it to revive Vera. Swearsies.

Beast: “And why should I trust you?”

Jaddak: “Because I am a Skrull. Treacherous and savage as my people are -- we value honor more than life.”

Doubt.

Beast pauses to consider the power of the Resurrection Stone. Thinks about Devlunn and his zombies and Rosenblatt’s dance.

Beast: “Vera... I’m sorry. But this power is too much for any man to hold. I hope you can forgive me for what I’m about to do -- and I hope I can forgive myself!”

And then Beast slams the two halves of the Resurrection Stone together, KRUNCHing them into dust.

Jaddak: “Y-you crushed it! But that is... impossible! My plan was perfection! The vagaries of human love should have assured me victory!”

Wonder Man: “There are higher forms of love, Skrull -- but don’t strain your brain trying to figure out what they are!”

Because, yes, Wonder Man, Scarlet Witch, and Vision are also here now.

Vision intangibled onto the ship while Jaddak was distracted and used Jaddak’s own teleporters to bring the other two aboard.

As for that unbreachable wall?

Nah. Totally breachable. Wonder Man peels it open like nothing.

Jaddak tries to use Vera’s dead body as a hostage but Scarlet Witch blasts the gun apart in his hands with a SQUAKK.

So there may be a bird that used to be a gun loose on the ship.

And that just leaves one thing to take care of.

Beast jumps at Jaddak and starts slamming him around.

Scarlet Witch protests that Beast is going to kill Jaddak but Wonder Man tells her that Beast has to left off some steam.

Wonder Man: “He has to vent some steam or he’ll really snap! Besides you know Hank as well as I do -- that Skrull will get some much-needed lumps -- but that’s all!”

Beast: “Yeah. That’s our Beastie. A hero to the end. Can’t even bring myself to play the old ‘eye for an eye’ game. Not that it would do me one stinking bit of good. I’ve lost her -- forever.”

AND THEN AN EPILOGUE. Later that day at the Baxter Building.

Reed has been involved between panels this whole story and now he gets exposition exposited to him to fill in the gaps and in return he’s going to exposit too.

Wonder Man explains that he, Wanda, and Vision always intended to destroy the Resurrection Stone if Beast went through with the deal with Jaddak. Not that they thought he would. Knowing Hank McCoy and all.

But its a subversion of the ‘this is something he must do himself’ trope. Where they left the decision in Beast’s hands but also planned to go over his head if he made the wrong decision and put the scary power of phoenix down in the hands of the Skrulls.

Gotta keep your friends honest or something.

So now Reed has news. Weird news about Vera.

The poison that Jaddak used was super rare, so rare that Jaddak didn’t even know how it worked. He just had to be a murder hipster and goofed up.

Its actually a slow-acting poison that takes days to fully kill someone so Vera is technically only mostly dead. She could theoretically be cured one day.

So Reed has thrown her into a suspended animation tube and hopes to come up with an antidote eventually (which he doesn’t but Vera ends up cured anyway in Defenders #105 about a year later in another story by J.M. DeMatteis).

What is it about weird filler stories and having someone end up in a freezer tube to be maybe cured later?

Reed Richards: I know it’s not much of a chance, Beast -- but at least there’s hope.”

Beast: “There’s hope -- !”

Follow @essential-avengers​ because one day I’ll be up to date on that blog and it’ll have Essential Avengers stuff and no miscellaneous reblogs of other stuff. Wouldn’t that be nice? Maybe? Also like and reblog if you like to reblog.

[dlkardenal]

Swords, wands and other baubles - Magic systems and their real-life counterparts

Hey there, traveler!

Here we are (if even a day or so late) for our last stop in this magic trilogy. Three, such a wonderful number, isn’t it? I apologize for the delay, sadly this exam period sucked me up like quicksand and I got no time yesterday to write. But let that not deter us from today’s topic: the various systems of magic, both in literature and their real-life counterparts.

Let’s start with my favorite: magic items. We all know the trope of the wizard’s wand, the world slaying sword or the wishing lamp, and these varied applications of a common concept shows just how much potential rests with this system.

As far as I could research, there are a couple of sources for this trope predating the classic fantasy stories.

There’s a scene in The Lord of the Rings when our heroes are departing Lothlórien and they receive capes from the elves as parting gift. When Sam asks if they are magical, an elf replies that they are “just elven”. The earliest representations of magical objects followed this mentality – magical stuff was magical because of their origin. This is really obvious in Arthurian legend with Excalibur, the magical sword given to Arthur by the Fairy of the Lake or other Gaelic and Celtic tales like Cu Chulainn and his spear Gae Bolg, or Thor’s hammer, the legendary Mjölnir. These weapons were given to their wielder by a magical race, be it fairies or dwarves, and as such, they became magical by nature. This then followed into the stories such as the Dragon Rider swords in Eragon (forged by elves), the Elder Wand in Harry Potter (given by death itself, although it is a special case because it is an object that’s MORE magical than it’s “ordinary” magic counterparts) or the Daedric Artifacts in the Elder Scrolls games (you knew Skyrim would pop up somehow, you knew…).

Another interesting source is a tribal belief called animancy that popped up all over the world from pre-Columbus America, Africa, and Eurasia. Animancy, from the latin “anima” meaning soul or spirit, holds that a person’s spirit can rest in an object dear to them after their death so it can and will manifest their will through this object or anyone who holds it. There are folk tales from Europe’s Transylvania region (yes, the Dracula place) about a belt once belonging to a shepherd that drove his killers to madness until they confessed their foul deed. We can see this mainly in horror fiction – cursed trinkets haunted by the ghost of a long-dead murderer, witch, or a victim of the previous two.

There is much, much more to this trope, but I could write a short draft about this topic only. As a last note, I’d like to mention our WIP (because humility is my greatest weakness). In the world of Seiran, magical objects are the only way of utilizing magic, so they are more valuable than the magicians (or as we call them mejais) themselves. These trinkets were created by an ancient civilization that met its end thousands of years ago and left behind these shiny things. When a mejai concentrates, they can deter the wind-like force of magic to swipe through a certain trinket, creating a unique effect – which means the number of trinkets you have is the number of spells you can use. Now, you could try and force the magic into your body to act as a channel, but that’s how you end up like one of our characters – crippled and broken.

Sometimes it is not magical objects which limit the power of a magician, but an inner force, the so-called “mana”. This is actually not a new thing, the whole concept was made up by ancient Polynesians. Mana is the spiritual force resting in everyone and everything, just waiting to be utilized by someone who can wield it. Its main use was to heal and protect, but the Maori people for example thought a tribe that has a certain type of mana holds authority over a piece of land, so it was used to divide territory as well.

This belief has a few variations about what exactly holds mana, but most sources agree that it can be transferred and it isn’t distributed evenly – some people have more than others. It can also deplete and proliferate, making it even more like how we see it in games, although there were no potions or crystals to replenish it. A large amount of mana was attributed to wisdom and wise elders of the community, and evil acts were believed to rid you of it. This ebb and flow made it a kind of resource, and as such, roleplaying games and other media plucked it from the idea tree and embed it into pop-culture as the numerical representation of magic power.

And lastly, there are the cases where nothing controls the power a magician can wield. This is mostly a fiction concept as it is really hard to show that you can break the world in two in reality, but in literature, it is a fascinating dilemma. In Brian McCallan’s The powder mage, there are three types of magic users, one being the all-powerful Privileged. They can manipulate elements with a twitch of their fingers and rip anyone to shreds in an instant. They wield nearly limitless power and they’re unbeatable in a one-on-one fight. However, they have a limited range on their abilities, far less the titular powder mages (who are basically supersoldiers who can control explosions and bullets), so they feel inferior to them in open, large scale battles when they have the opportunity to stay out of range and just shoot them. This dynamic elevates the feats of Taniel, character who is known for killing Privileged mages very efficiently. I think it is a great opportunity to step up the badassery of a hero who manages to outsmart these powerhouse magicians. The bigger the prey, the greater the victory.

So that’s it, travelers. A few examples of where the most common magic tropes come from, a glimpse at how were are utilizing it and a personal example of my favorite magic system. What other tropes did I miss? Do you want me to research a few of your favorites? Leave a comment and I’l jump right on it!

Until then, stay sharp!

Cheers,

Dar

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

@thecorteztwins

Once again, I’ve taken a silly, stupid idea and turned it into a silly, stupid ficlet.  Hope I got Fantasma’s voice even slightly right.

               “When you said you wanted to eat my meat, this wasn’t what I expected,” the red-haired mutant protested, thrashing against the dough that held him bound.  Phyllo dough was rolled thin, but enough layers made a nice, snug cocoon.

           “I thought the Craigslist ad was extremely clear,” Fantasma said coldly. “I stated that I wanted someone to devour, body and soul.  How could you misinterpret that?”  She continued pulling Cortez towards the oven, her massive claws clicking against the cement floor.

           “No one would ever possibly think you actually wanted to eat them!” Cortez screamed.  “Haven’t you heard of metaphor?  Nuance? Innuendo?”  His cries were muffled as Fantasma used her long, prehensile tongue to wrap more dough around his mouth and nose.  It was kinder to let him suffocate, really, before roasting him to delicious perfection.  And she wanted to be kind.

           Fantasma wasn’t entirely comfortable with what she was doing.  Eating people was a taboo that had been deeply ingrained in her during her short, confusing life as a human.  It was easier in her Dire Wraith form – she felt a greater sense of detachment from the entire species.  Because that’s what they were -  separate species.  Humans, mutants, Inhumans, Kree, it didn’t matter.  They may as well be poultry or cattle.  Humanoids were a delicacy rich in protein, and her children needed to feed.

           Still, something nagged at the back of her mind, as Cortez stared up at her in wild-eyed fear.  An expression like that might have sparked some pity in her, once, or at least an understanding that she should feel pity.  She could imagine the horror and disgust on the faces of her former team-mates if they saw her now, crouched over an oven like that fairy-tale witch. She didn’t want them to look at her that way.  She’d hoped the Craigslist ad would bring her volunteers (in her experience, humans were up for all sorts of bizarre experiences), but it only brought misunderstanding.

           “Mmmmph!”  Cortez tried to scream through the dough.

           “I have to do it,” Fantasma said, to herself as much as to him.  “My children need nourishment.  You understand, don’t you?”  Perhaps he wouldn’t.  Her bio-scan of Cortez had picked up enough of his memories and personality to suggest that he knew very little of selfless love.  She tried to comfort herself with this knowledge.  

           “You haven’t exactly lived a good life,” she continued, adjusting the oven. It wasn’t pre-heated yet, and she didn’t want to wind up with a burnt crust and Fabian raw and bloody in the center.  Her babies could be so picky.  “You’ve betrayed and alienated all of your friends and family – the ones that are still alive, anyway.  So you won’t really be missed.  Consider this a type of redemption for you.  You will become a source of life for my family.”  She felt another twinge, though.  Hadn’t she also “betrayed”  her former friends and team-mates?  But how else could she care for her children?

           “Not missed?!  Not missed! How dare you,” yelled Fabian. Fantasma looked down to realize that he had eaten his way through the dough over his face.  Mutants certainly had a strong survival instinct.  Or at least, this one did.

           “I am the very savior of homo-superior!  Their leader!  I will bring our people into the light of mutant supremacy!”

           “You’ll only be food for my own people,” Fantasma retorted.  Supremacy she could understand.  Wanting to merely exist in public, as her true self, without fear and disgust from humanity (and humanity’s answer to fear and disgust was so often violence).  Wanting safety and freedom for her babies.  And that could only be achieved if the Dire Wraiths conquered and ruled the Earth – humans would never let them peacefully co-exist.  Perhaps, in an odd way, she could relate to this terrible man.

           “Fabian Cortez is no one’s snack!  You can’t kill me!  I’m the world’s greatest lover!  Just imagine the mass suicides when all of those beautiful women realize that they will never again feel my touch!  Never again be truly satisfied!”

           In human form, Fantasma would have rolled her eyes at this obvious falsehood, but it felt awkward in her Wraith form.  Still, she snapped her claws together in nervous frustration, hesitating. Fabian should be no more than a cut of beef to her, but watching him struggle, seeing the terror in his face….it felt wrong.  Starlight would disapprove.  And she didn’t want to disappoint Starlight.

           Perhaps there was another way he could be of use.

           “A great lover, you say?”

           “Yes!”  The man’s face brightened.  “The very best!  I’m surprised you haven’t heard of me!”  He was greatly exaggerating, but he had been rather aroused when he first arrived at the warehouse and began rubbing the oil onto his body.  He seemed physically healthy, and she had noted a sizable bulge in his pants when she began wrapping the dough around him.

           “I need a virile man with a strong sexual appetite,” Fantasma explained, as she began cutting the dough off Cortez.  “Some of my eggs still need to be properly fertilized.”  The man known as The Presence had failed to complete that task – or rather, she had prevented him from doing so when her former team-mate Starlight informed her of the man’s cruelty and manipulation.  He had not been a worthy sire for her brood.  She and Starlight had temporarily joined forces to defeat the Presence and toss him into a far corner of Limbo, and she had torn open a portal to send herself and Starlight safely back to Earth – separately. They’d likely be foes if they met again, and Fantasma wanted to preserve the memory of working alongside her friend. Yes, friend, even now.

           Cortez was also an unworthy father, but he probably wouldn’t try to control her, and his sexual vigor was a point in his favor.  The mutant sprang up, wiping dough off his costume, the fear in eyes changed to excitement, and no small amount of lust.

           “If you want virile, look no further!  You see what a waste it would have been to cook me!  There is plenty of useless flesh in the world, but only one Fabian Cortez!”

           “Yes,” Fantasma sighed.  “I suppose you’ll do.”  She stretched a claw out to flick the oven off.  

           “You will, of course, change back to your human form,” Fabian continued.  “Even for a false face, it was gorgeous.  No one would ever guess that you’re a monster.”

           Monster.  Despite her usual detachment, the word cut her to the core, and she was tempted to simply bite Cortez in half.  But she’d need him alive to continue producing seed.

           “Not necessary,” she said calmly.  “You don’t need me to fertilize the eggs.”  She spread a claw out, the eggs clustered across the floor, walls and ceiling barely visible in the dim light.  “Just spread your seed across the surface of each one, and be sure to rub it in thoroughly. You’ll know you’ve done the job when the egg glows with…I believe the color is lavender, to humanoid eyes.”

           Fabian gaped, taking in the eggs for the first time.  He’d been a bit distracted before.

           “You….you want me to….”

           “It should take about this much for all of them,” Fantasma explained, using her tongue to place a large bucket in front of Fabian.  “I realize it may be more than you can produce in a single session, so I’ll allow some rest breaks.  And I’ll provide you with proper nourishment.  How do you feel about Chinese take-out?”

           Fabian stared at the bucket, and back at Fantasma, and then out again at the vast sea of eggs.

           “Do you prefer pizza?”

           “I um….I don’t know if I can….” He stammered.  Fantasma snorted.  She shouldn’t have turned the oven off.

           “I thought you were the world’s greatest lover,” she scoffed.  “Where else am I to find a big, strong man to help me in my hour of need?”  The jab at his pride seemed to work, and Fabian straightened, looking a little more determined.

           “Well, it’s…unconventional.  But never let it be said that Fabian Cortez backed down from a challenge!  I’m all the man any woman needs!”

           “Excellent.  Perhaps you could get to it.”  There was a pause.  “I can leave, if it would make you feel more comfortable.”

           “Oh, not at all!” Fabian said.  He leered at her.  “I was just thinking, this might go better with a little….visual stimulation.  That human form of yours is so delectable. There are all sorts of things you could do to help me…fill this bucket.”

           Fantasma sighed again.  She really didn’t want to shift back – it used a great deal of energy, and she was rather hungry.  She’d really been looking forward to roasted Fabian-in-a-blanket.  And she’d always felt awkward in her human form.  People assumed that she wore a skimpy costume because she was comfortable in her own skin, but it was really the opposite.  She’d seen no point in modesty with a body that had been so alien to her, and it served as a convenient distraction in combat or interrogation.  It had never properly seemed like her body, even back when she hadn’t known her true nature.  The Dire Wraith form felt so right.

           But she supposed she should offer Cortez something titillating to hurry this process along.  She decided to compromise.  While maintaining her Dire Wraith form, she shifted only her chest, allowing a plump, firm pair of humanoid breasts to pop out, and dangle invitingly.

           “You may gaze upon this for stimulation.  Or perhaps you are, as Americans say, more of an ‘ass man.’” She added a set of buttocks directly below the breasts.  Surely Cortez would see something there that he liked.

           Fabian’s eyes widened, and he began to scream.

           “What?  Are they not large enough?”  Fantasma let the breasts inflate fuller.  Some humans preferred extremely unrealistic proportions on women, she had seen on the Internet.  She was reluctantly willing to let him touch one if that would calm his hysteria.  But instead, Cortez turned and fled through the warehouse, jumping directly through a window in his panic.

           Fantasma slumped to the floor, re-absorbing the ridiculous human parts back into her Wraith form.  It was pointless to chase after a man like that.  He’d been useless from the start.  Useless as food, and twice as useless as a sire.

           But what was she going to do?  Her children needed protein.  Obviously she couldn’t bring herself to eat people – even horrible people like Cortez. As a Dire Wraith, mutants and humans should be no different from other inferior species….but they weren’t.  She couldn’t forget her time among them. Couldn’t imagine feeding on her old team-mates – the very thought made her shudder.

           Perhaps she’d start with pork.  Pig brains were a delicacy, even among some groups of humans, and surely they were of low enough intelligence to be acceptable?  It was hard to tell, now.  Her newly-awakened instincts saw all life as prey, and if eating humans was….wrong….perhaps eating animals was also wrong?  

           Never mind.  She would find a way to feed her children and remain true to herself.  Her children would be different from other Dire Wraiths, but they would be well-cared for.  Even vegetarians had their ways of getting protein.

           She picked up her discarded phone, and began to scroll through information about recipes and nutrition, ignoring the faint sound of Fabian Cortez continuing to scream as he fled through the underbrush.      

Notes:

I think it’s really funny to imagine Fabian being well-hung.  It would explain all of his unearned confidence, and you just know he’d be the kind of lover that doesn’t actually learn any techniques.  He’d assume that women will just collapse in pleasure at the very sight of it.  Fantasma deserves better, obviously.      

[beyond-far-horizons]

The Meeting of Two Minds

Dumbledore may have been Love’s greatest advocate in later years but for now the young and brilliant Albus likes to think himself above such frivolous sentiment. Until he’s introduced to the infamous Gellert Grindelwald that is… One-shot, Rating K+.

‘Let me not to the marriage of true minds. 

Admit impediments’.

Sonnet 116. Shakespeare.

With the The Crimes of Grindelwald out, here’s my take on the first meeting of Dumbledore and Grindelwald. I dedicate this to the amazing Broad Strokes prequel fan film - Dumbledore and Grindelwald - The Greater Good, which inspired this fic a few years ago. Their Gellert will always be my Grindelwald - I encourage you to watch it on YouTube if you haven’t seen it already!

Albus Dumbledore stood outside the vine-laden cottage of Professor Bathilda Bagshot, his hand hovering over the oaken door. Normally a visit here provided a brief respite from the gnawing dullness of Godric’s Hollow, but last time she had casually mentioned a visit from her Bavarian nephew and would he mind being introduced? Naturally Albus could not refuse on civility’s grounds let alone disappoint a benefactor of such kindness, yet now he chaffed under the obligation. Yet another burden getting in the way of precious research time. What little of it Aberforth and Ariana left him…

Which was awful and unkind and all too common a thought infecting his head of late.

I suppose he’ll be from Durmstrang too so I should prepare myself for some coarseness…

He sighed, biting his lip and looked back down the cheery ramshackled path to the front gate. If I can’t manage a better grace I should come back another time. Professor Bagshot deserves that much courtesy at least…

The door opened and his heart sank.

“Albus, there you are!” Bathilda answered the door in a deep garnet dress, her blonde hair pinned in a knot on top of her head. “How nice of you to pop round. I was just talking about you.”

“What a coincidence, Professor.” Albus said, turning and forcing his face into the best approximation of a smile. “I- I can’t stay for long, but I thought I would stop by just to introduce myself at least.”

There, Ive given myself an excuse if I require one.

“Well at least stay for a cup of tea. I’m sure Aberforth can manage till then.” Bathilda’s eyes twinkled and Albus had the uncomfortable impression she could read him far better than he would have liked. She waved him in, passed shelves weighed down with books and took his coat and hat.

As always the cosy cottage smelt of baking, woodsmoke and dried vellum. He wished that smell didn’t seem more like home compared to the house next to it. Aberforth did try his best…

“Into the sitting room, Albus. I’ll call Gellert down. He’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

“Has he?” Albus tried to inject enthusiasm into his voice as he edged around a tower of tomes that had grown since his last visit.

He could see it now - yet another dull exchange where he would have to pretend to be interested in the mediocre achievements of someone everyone assumed he would get on with because they were vaguely the same age.

Come on Albus, at least try not to be so stuck up! He chided himself, selecting his favourite chintz armchair and removing a selection of papers from it. If he’s related to Professor Bagshot then he should at least be intelligent.

“Or perhaps not…” He smirked as he caught sight of notes on Uric the Oddball scrawled across the page he was holding.

“Oh I am sorry Albus, I meant to clear the living room before you came.” Bathilda said as she took the notes from him. She stacked them neatly on a writing desk in front of the bay window that already teamed with scrolls, books and dried inkwells.

“Embarking on your great endeavour at last?” He smiled as he took a seat. “Although forgive me for my presumption Professor, but critics might not take the book too seriously if Uric the Oddball has a starring role.”

“Nonsense, Albus.” Bathilda said, taking his teasing in good humour. “Why, if I’ve learnt anything about Magical History, it’s that the eccentrics are the ones that push us to new heights.”

“My sentiments exactly, Aunt.”

Albus stood up, intending to make a quip about jellyfish hats, but the joke died on his lips as Bathilda’s hand swept towards a tall youth in black with blond, curling hair and an intense, evaluating gaze.

“Albus, this is my great nephew. Gellert, come in.”

Blue eyes met grey and Albus felt a lurch in his chest.

“Albus Dumbledore.”

“Gellert Grindelwald.”

His outstretched hand was met with a firm grip and he struggled not to flush. He nodded, keeping up his polite veneer as any proper British wizard would, only to see a flash of merriment on Gellert’s face.

Albus took back his hand, feeling mildly irritated. According to Professor Bagshot he was slightly older than her nephew so why then did he feel like the naughty schoolboy?

“Albus is exceeding bright, Gellert, I’m sure you will have lots in common.”

“Yes I’ve heard the name. Even in Durmstrang you are famous, Master Dumbledore.”

Albus had been expecting a veiled insult given Gellert’s previous smirk so was instantly wrong-footed. “Oh, it’s just Albus, please. And it’s nothing really.”

“Nothing?” The glittering eyes were back. “I’d hardly say ‘Most promising contribution to Alchemy in Cairo’ is nothing, Albus.”

Albus’s heart gave another lurch at the praise and the way the other boy said his name.

What is this?

Pushing the thought aside he smiled and at a nod from Bathilda sat back down. “Well, I like to apply myself.”

Gellert took the opposite chair and leaned back, stretching out his legs with a careless grace Albus envied. “And yet you are here. Forgive my curiosity but I thought a man as promising as you would be on the Grand Tour by now.”

Albus’s smile dropped and he fought back the resentment that burst up in his chest.

“Albus is very devoted to his family, Gellert.” Bathilda cut in quickly. He didn’t miss the significant look the witch gave her great nephew.

Wonderful, so he knows I’m the newly appointed head of the family. Would that they all knew just how truly devoted I am…

Pushing down the sense of shame that perpetually dogged him, he accepted a cup of tea from Bathilda’s floating tray.

“A noble sentiment - family.” Albus couldn’t work out if the tone was genuine or sarcastic. “And something I’m sure my great aunt thinks I could learn from.” The blond boy took the other cup but his gaze was still fixed on Albus. “But you can’t say this place isn’t full of history itself. If you know where to look, of course.”

Is he referring to the Hallows? No…most wizards think they are just a legend…

“Well you both know my feelings on the subject.” Professor Bagshot chuckled and suddenly all Albus wanted was for her to leave the two of them alone.

“It’s true, I suppose.” He replied carefully. “Although with all due respect to the professor, it can feel like something of a backwater at times.” He couldn’t quite keep the bitterness from his voice.

“Then I hope you won’t think me presumptuous to say I’m glad to have met you.” Gellert’s smile was infectious. “I was looking forward to exploring, but nothing beats meeting someone with the same interests.”

“You’ve also studied alchemy?”

“Yes and I actually found your contribution very interesting along with your theories about dragon’s blood. You know you had our Potions master at Durmstrang almost spitting fire himself saying that dragon’s blood didn’t work that way.”

Albus found himself on the edge of his seat. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I get that reaction! It’s like-”

I can’t say it. How arrogant would it sound? That I know better than-

“- like they refuse to see the truth because of your youth?” Gellert’s lips were pursed and he set his untouched tea down with a clank. “When the reality is, it is they who are blind?”

Albus’s mouth opened. “…Yes.”

Is he a Legilimens too? He felt uncomfortable at the thought.

Gellert leaned forward, lazy ease replaced by seriousness. “Actually I would believe it. They are blind, Albus. What is worse - they are jealous.”

“Jealous?” Albus laughed, hiding his shock. How many times have I thought that? How many times have I railed against the Establishment, feeling that they were holding me back? “Conservative, maybe…”

“I’ve heard the British are famous for their modesty. It’s charming, Albus, but let’s be honest, there are many who feel threatened by innovation, especially if it comes in the form of someone young, someone who might actually deserve the titles and accolades they have only gained through decades of toil.”

Albus looked down. “Experience is to be respected.” He mumbled and looked up sharply at the roar of laughter from the other chair.

“The archetypal gentleman wizard.” Gellert grinned and warm giddiness spread through Albus’s body.

He’s laughing at me! Albus tried to force his face into stern affront but the teasing light in those grey eyes was impossible to hate.

“Experience is to be respected but what of talent, Albus? What of true imagination? In Durmstrang we believed that only the strongest, the ones that proved themselves constantly, had the right to stand at the top.”

Albus had a sudden vision of a cold, dark landscape, of mountains, vast skies and powerful, brutal wizards standing on soaring pinnacles with their foes lying crushed beneath them. Gellert’s face was foremost amongst them, staring down at him as he did now with that haughty cockiness.

“Are you suggesting I should have duelled them into submission?” He replied coolly.

Gellert laughed again. “Maybe. Perhaps it would get them to try something new at least, rather than just passing judgement on the rest of us.”

“It sounds like you had a trying time at Durmstrang.”

Gellert waved a dismissive hand. “I’m beyond that now, on to better things. Speaking of which I tried your dragon’s blood solution in a compound of my own.”

“And?”

“It worked as you said it would.”

“You see! There are far more uses that can be made of it, I’m sure of that!”

The two boys didn’t notice Bathilda smile as she was quite forgotten.  She slipped silently up to her study, happy that her wayward but brilliant great nephew seemed to have finally met his match.

“I knew it would be good for Albus to talk to someone his own age.” She said softly to herself as she took out an elegant old quill. And if anyone can keep Gellert on the straight and narrow it’s Kendra Dumbledore’s son.

Dipping the ancient quill in ink, she sat down to write a long letter to Gellert’s mother.

Such good beginnings…

Albus’s throat was dry. Periodically he tried to take a sip from his tea cup and then remembered it was stone cold.

Odd…

He kept meaning to ask about another drink but then Gellert would say something else and he would be lost, excitedly explaining his latest theories or questioning his new friend about his own thoughts and experiments.

I can hardly believe it. He thought, the steady thrill that had been building in his body bursting again into life. I can’t believe someone like him would come here of all places. Finally something good is happening to me!

There was a brief pause in conversation as both parties stopped to gather their thoughts. Gellert was standing by the fire he had conjured earlier, one hand on the high mantlepiece, the other stretched towards the flames as if to catch them. Albus curled in the comfortable chair, his head on his folded hand and found his eyes tracing the other boy’s proud profile. Light danced across the handsome face, turning it molten and cast his long shadow into the cosy room. Albus dared not speak for fear of breaking the moment.

Was it just this morning I thought I would be trapped here forever? Now I never want it to end…

Gellert’s face, however, had dropped its perennial smirk. He stared at the fire with a concentration that was almost severe. A small tongue of flame pulled itself from the hearth and began to dance around his fingers.

“Freeze-flame. Wordless and wandless. Very nice.”

“I’m not trying to impress you, Albus.” Gellert’s voice was soft but firm, and more flames gathered, encircling his outstretched palm like a fiery serpent.

“What are you doing then?”

“Thinking.”

Albus raised his head. “Care to share?”

Gellert snapped his fingers abruptly and the flames were extinguished. “I think I’ve shared enough with you for one day.”

Dismay dispelled the happiness Albus had been feeling but he covered it with courtesy. “I hope you don’t regret it.”

White teeth flashed and the dazzling smirk was back. “Not at all. It is perhaps a little surprising. I’m not usually given to talking about myself so much.”

Albus’s heart turned over again but he wasn’t going to loss the opportunity to tease. “Aren’t you?” He replied with an innocent look.

“You see,” Gellert turned towards him, “already you know me too well.”

Albus chuckled, feeling like he had consumed half a barrel of his father’s firewhisky. “Not that well, I still haven’t asked you why someone as brilliant as you isn’t on the Grand Tour himself.”

The grin dropped as fast as it had appeared. “That would be because I should still be at Durmstrang.”

Albus’s face fell. “Should be…” The words escaped before he could lock his mouth shut.

Away from the fire and facing towards Albus, Gellert face was now wreathed in shadow. “I was expelled.”

Why? The Dark Arts? But they teach them there. What could he have done that would have been bad enough for Durmstrang to expel him?

Gellert’s smile was slow and secret like a siren’s song. “Ah but how could they expel such talented and affable person as myself?” He spread his arms in mock hurt. “Let’s just say you aren’t the only one that was held back by…how did you put it earlier? ‘Conservative’ witches and wizards.” He turned towards the stairs and looked back over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Albus.”

“Night?” Albus stood up, horrified to see the window confirming word with telltale blackness.

Has it truly been that long? Oh no, Aberforth! Ariana! I said I’d only be an hour at the most!

“It was good to meet you…”

“You too…” Albus replied distractedly, then realised how rude and inadequate that sounded about the wonderful discovery of their new-found friendship. He turned back to offer a better goodbye but ex-Durmstrang boy had disappeared up the stairs.

All thoughts of his siblings melted away.

I should have said-

-But what did he mean-

-Wish I had-

Damn.

He stood there staring stupidly at the place where Gellert had been, before realising how bizarre and embarrassing it would look if his new friend came back down and found him still gawking like a lost troll.

He saw himself out, wondering idly where Professor Bagshot had gone.

Until tomorrow then…

There was barely a minute’s walk between the two houses but he stretched it out with several backward glances. A light was on in the Bagshot’s small guest bedroom.

That must be Gellert, what is he thinking? Is he thinking about what I said? …Is he thinking about me?

Albus paused on another doorstep, this time his own. The light that shone through this door was the complete opposite of the one he yearned for. It spoke of interrogation not illumination. Aberforth would be sat the other side, by the stairs so he wouldn’t miss his errant elder brother. Oh no, Aberforth never missed an opportunity to upbraid him, even if he did deserve it. Albus sighed, leaning his head against the wood, then glanced again at the narrow upper window in the Bagshot cottage.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough…

Reviews and thoughts very welcome! I’m so glad to have finally finished this piece. Such an intriguing and ultimately heartbreaking dynamic. Also if you are wondering why Bathilda didn’t come down and offer them lunch or dinner etc I suspect this was one of those rare ten hour first meetings between visionaries where she wouldn’t have been able to get a word in and would have gotten the Gellert Glare TM if she’d tried to interrupt, poor woman.

[grace-for-the-nations-daily-word]

*Your word for today*

FOUR KINDS OF POWER BACKING US UP.

_(Preamble to Weapons of our warefare and the amour of God series)_

One word that is very important in understanding and effecting spiritual warfare is the word POWER.

When we say power we mean many powerful things that if we can understand them we will always be victorious over the devil and all he represents.

When I lay hand on a person and they fall you can say that's the power of the Holy Ghost.

When I lay hands on the sick and they are miraculously healed, you also say that's the power of the Holy Spirit.

When I cast out a demon again you say that's the power of the Holy Ghost.

If I speak to someone whose child is about to sent to prison and say "Your son is not going to prison, he will be home tomorrow" and it happens, ... you say what? The power of God.

There are couples who had irreconcilable differences and when they come to have me bless their divorce (yes you heard me right) and I will simply tell them go back home, you're not divorcing and before the week ends they come back with tears of joy testifying how their marriage has been completely renewed, they attribute it to the power of God.

It takes power to tell you to come to church and listen to me for 2 hours and you do so.

I can go on and on but my point is there are many facets of power than we usually think.

A policemen/women has power not because of his/her physic but because of the authority given them by the state.

A president has power because of his/her office and so does the judge.

A fighter/boxer has power because of their physic and skill.

A soldier has power because of the authority given them by the state, and because of the ammunition they carry.

Having said the above lets talk about what we mean when we say THE POWER OF GOD.

I Will use the following Four Greek words that are seen all over scripture where the word power is used.

1. DUNAMIS POWER

- explosive power

The power of content

This is active power

This the power promised to come by the Holy Ghost.

"You shall have power (dunamis) when the Holy Spirit comes upon you......."

2. ISCHUAS POWER

- the powyer of efficience

This is creative power

Miracle working power

Ischuas means mighty, strength, force etc

3. EXOUSIA POWER

- excecutive power

Aurthority

Power of right

Dominion

When we heal the sick, cast out demons we do so by this power.

We rebuke, reprove, correct, teach, train, ordain and apoint other saints by this power delegated to us by Jesus.

4. KRATOS POWER

- power of invincibility

The power within

This is the power that works within us to automatically defend us and dispel every evil power.

In military terms I would liken this power to PATRIOTIC MISILES.

These are misiles that launch automatically when the radar detects enemy planes trespass their airspace.

The scripture "No weapon formed against you shall prosper" stands on this power.

When a weapon is formed against you the power of invincibility neutralises that weapon.

The scripture "You shall trample on poisonous snakes and scorpions.... you shall not in anyway be harmed" rests on the power of invincibility.

Jesus also said even if you drink poisonous/poisoned drinks it shall not by any means harm you.

The power of invincibility makes sure that happens.

Listen; Jesus never said you shall pray about it or scream about it!

He said it shall not harm you.

I believe sometimes you may not even know that you were poisoned.

I can imagine tge frustration, the stress, the confusion that you give the devil and his agents every day when such things happen.

Had it not been for this power YOU could have long been dead.

How I thank God for Jesus, because of Him, the power of invincibility works in me and for me.

Hallelujah!

Again What is Kratos power?

Ephesians 3:16

Be strengthened with power in the inward man

Vs 20 this power works in us

This is called the power of invincibility

To be invincible is to be immune to all possibility of defeat, failure, misfortune, or destruction and death

In war there are what are called patriotic missiles which automatically launches themselves to neutralize every enemy missile launched against the nation.

Thus a nation becomes invincible and immune to all enemy attacks.

This means though you haven't done anything to attack, fight back or defend yourself , you have successfully rendered the enemy powerless by the power of God working within you.

Your enemy is no longer a threat to you and all that is yours.

This is the power inherent in the word of God.

As you feed on the word of God this power fills you and you become invincible.

This is the Power that caused David to boost and say, ".... what shall man do to me..."

And in the New Testament we say "If God is on our side; who shall be against us?"

The amour of God in Ephesians 6:10

This is to make you invincible and immune to all enemy attack

The enemy sword can't penetrate the shield and breastplate

The arrows are quenched and extinguished

The mind games, propaganda are quarantined out of your mind.

The thorns, pricks, landmines can't hurt your feet.

Everything on you is secured by the belt of truth.

Your sword and lance are sharp and ready to destroy the enemy.

This means the enemy weapons are neutralized and rendereded powerless.

Isaiah 54:17 But in that coming day no weapon turned against you will succeed. You will silence every voice raised up to accuse you. These benefits are enjoyed by the servants of the lord;     their vindication will come from me. I, the lord, have spoken!

You are a great force on a heavenly mission and assignment

Jesus said you shall trample on snakes and scorpions, even if you drink poisonous drinks it shall not affect you

The snakes and scorpions are rendereded powerless by the power of God in you.

The poison is disciplined and tamed by the power of God in you.

You're immune to all poison!

Say hallelujah to that!

Paul was bitten by the most venomenous snake, the viper but because of this power he never felt the poison.

Acts of the Apostles 28:3 As Paul gathered an armful of sticks and was laying them on the fire, a poisonous snake, driven out by the heat, bit him on the hand.

4 The people of the island saw it hanging from his hand and said to each other, “A murderer, no doubt! Though he escaped the sea, justice will not permit him to live.”

5 But Paul shook off the snake into the fire and was unharmed.

6 The people waited for him to swell up or suddenly drop dead. But when they had waited a long time and saw that he wasn’t harmed, they changed their minds and decided he was a god.

This is the power that is in you!

The power of invincibility that works in you!

Be conscious of this power of God that works in you as you do spiritual warfare.

Yes the devil our enemy can fight and attack you at various levels using his demons, devils, witches, wizards, sorcerers and agents.

But your are anointed and empowered with power of invincibility.

When the enemy comes in, like a flood the lord raises a standard

Greater is the one who is in you than the one in the world.

1 John 4 4 But you belong to God, my dear children. You have already won a victory over those people, because the Spirit who lives in you is greater than the spirit who lives in the world.

You're hid in Christ Jesus in heavenly places, at the right hand of the father, far above principalities ,rulers and dominions.

The same power that conquered the grave lives in you!

The same power that conquered principalities and dominions and triumphed over them on the cross lives in you!

You're more than a conqueror!

The power of invincibility protects you against all the backlashes of the enemy!

Be conscious that you're covered by the greatest power of all, the Holy Ghost power!

Oh glory to God, Hallelujah!

Much blessing

*© Pst Brucely Hanya*

*_March 2021 daily word_*

Join me for your daily word here

https://chat.whatsapp.com/HcZU3mQQR9JIzuFBcMdovg

[monards]

when you think about the option of the last volume having been a collaborative writing by all of them, and that each and every one of them likely shared the perspective the little witch shared in what she said to the old witch, you do in fact get a little fucked up

[mavda]

The miserable devil

Summary: Ganondorf has lived and died far too many times, his rage sometimes is not enough but the world needs him to play his part, and Ganondorf is just so very tired of it.

Ch. 1: When the devil grew sad

It wasn't the first time he had asked for mercy. He had understood - a couple of lifetimes ago -, that he had a greater chance of being listened to if instead of rage he acted with pain and vulnerability.

Zelda hated they way her heart softened at the sight of him kneeling and asking for forgiveness.

Link hated the way his sword hesitated when he grumbled and scorned his fate.

Always the loser, always the enemy, always the one who had to die for others to live.

They couldn't know if he was true to his words, they never did. He had betrayed them before, acted pained and sorrowful only to try to stab Link before dawn, or smother Zelda in her room.

And then other times he did stay as peaceful as he claimed to want to be. He would retire and live away from everything, from everyone. But never away from them. He had shared a secret once, ‘We are united,’ Link had given him a look, because of course they were, they didn't need the 'evil' part to say it to make it true. But Ganondorf had shook his head, as if Link didn't yet understand, ‘I mean, the three of us, we are one, we are not complete unless we are together.’

Link had doubted that statement. Whenever he had the chance to remember everything, to remember his past lives, to remember what Zelda meant to him, and whenever he had the chance to be with her, he felt as complete as he could be. He wanted nothing more, he died happy, he died content, he died glad to have lived. Whenever he killed Ganonodorf he never felt something was dying with him.

Zelda had trouble believing it, too. She always looked for Link. For her courage, for her forest boy, for her childhood friend, for her classmate, for her knight, for her champion, for her hero, for him. Even when she couldn't remember, she always felt she lacked something. She always made him go through grueling tests just to prove to the Goddesses how deserving he was. And she always knew, she always knew he was. She never looked for Ganondorf, if anything she wished he didn't exist.

So Ganondorf's words stayed there, at the back of their minds, wondering what he meant, wondering what it entailed.

And then he came to their doors. First Link, before he could even begin his journey - because, really, without a threat there was no call for the Hero, and Ganondorf had found him surrounded by family and friends, laughing and enjoying life -, Ganondorf had half a thought to let him be, to let him live in oblivious bliss. But he needed Link. Especially this lifetime. Particularly this one.

Ganondorf made up a story about struggle and pain and Link was following immediatly, trying to ease his worry. Ganondorf had to still himself before he hugged the adorable hylian.

To find Link, Ganondorf had to spend years. He used every resource he had, peeled his ears to every rumour he could find, went to the farthest corners of Hyrule. The Goddesses always put great care in hiding their Chosen Hero. Always put great care to give the Courageous one a place he could call home that gave him strenght to fight evil.

In contrast, Zelda was easier to find. Way easier.

She was Princess again. Soon to be Queen. How many years had passed?

Link was in awe of the city, he wanted to try every game the city had to offer, and Ganondorf didn't have the heart to tell him no.

They were thrown away when Link won every game three times in a row.

Ganondorf had to hold his belly to stop the roaring laughter that left him. Link was on the ground, looking shocked at being accused of cheating, but Ganondorf's laugh made him snicker. He had had to leave every prize he had won, but the sword Ganondorf had given him a while back was intact, and that was all that mattered.

Ganondorf remembered, he had started to remember back when he had become 10 years old. Nightmares, all of them. He was being killed time and time again, the same blue eyed demon striked him again and again and again and again and again and...

He had hated them, he didn't know anyhing else, but he hated them. He wanted them dead.

Link asked to go eat and Ganondorf followed.

He had wanted them dead. The dreams where he could kill the demon, or destroy the witch, make them tremble under his power. Those were the best.

As long as they were dead, he could live, and that was all that mattered.

Until he realized their deaths meant he was alone. And all he could see after their deaths was more death and destruction, and pain, and shame, and not what he had wanted.

The next time he dreamt Link's blood filled his mouth and Zelda's body laid lifeless next to him, Ganondorf awoke with a desperate cry and a punch in the gut. ‘NO. NO. Don't leave me.’

Link didn't remember, he was sure. There was no way he could smile to him like that if he knew.

Had he gone to find Link first because of that? Zelda surely remembered. Ganondorf was sure of that. She had started to ask already for him to the Gerudo. Ganondorf was sure it wasn't to invite him to have tea.

Link's laughter reverberated throughout the inn, and Ganondorf understood how Zelda fell in love with him every time they met. It was easy.

So when Link asked him personal questions, even though Ganondorf knew he should lie and make up stories not to trigger Link's memories, he told the truth. There was certain power in those blue eyes, as if you needed for him to accept you, as if he was a mother who would forgive everything as long as you told the truth.

Link nodded at the right moments, hummed agreement at others, and when Ganondorf finished, Link looked pensive and thanked him.

He went to sleep without saying another word.

And though Ganondorf worried that maybe that morning he would never wake, or he would find Link atop of him, sword in hand pointing at his heart. He felt relieved. When he woke the next day and went down to have breakfast, Link was there, talking with a hunter, and as he heard Ganondorf arrive he motioned for Ganondorf to sit next to him. And Ganondorf let out a breath he had been holding.

Ganondorf tried to leave Link behind. Zelda had accepted to see him, but Ganondorf didn't know whether it was to kill him there or to throw him in a cell to rot.

She had already done so before.

Link wouldn't hear any of it, though. And Ganondorf had the urge to shake him and scream at him that he was probably going to his death. But Link's eyes gleamed and Ganondorf was too scared to keep on talking.

If he was to die at Link's hand today, Ganondorf would die in peace. At least he had tried to change things.

Dying without hate would be a blessing.

Link followed him like a shadow, his face serious. He had asked Ganondorf if he was sure of this, Ganondorf had nodded, Link had asked why he was going to see her, Ganondorf had shrugged.

Ganondorf was just...

Zelda was as beautiful as ever. She had grown to be a battle hardened woman, a commander, a politician, a soldier. She saw Link first, even though he walked behind Ganondorf's enormous body. Her eyes went from Link to Ganondorf, and then from Ganondorf to Link. Ganondorf could feel the pain as she came to the conclusion that he had robbed her of him.

"Your Highness," Ganondorf's voice held promises Zelda didn't dare to hope. This was the voice he used to ask for mercy, for help, for a chance to be something else.

Like the time he had cried to the skies before being struck down, because he was just so, so, so...

She had looked for him, as she always did whenever she remembered before them. Always, always, she tried to kill him, to imprison him, to seal him, before he started to wreck havoc. Anything, anything, for Link to be freed of the sword that seals the darkness, of the trials that would be tasked to temper his soul, to harden his spirit, to harness his strenght. Zelda knew he needed none of those. And her love for Link was only surpassed by her hate to whatever entity made him suffer.

The time she had shared that part of her with Ganondorf, he had looked at her, trying to hold back tears, and he had whimpered, "Me too."

His head had been warm against her chest, and though she knew nothing would ever hurt more than to see Link die in front of her, the way this Gerudo warrior trembled and asked for forgiveness made her cry too. She was crying as she sealed Ganondorf, he stayed kneeled, shaking his head as he repeated time and time again, "Never again."

But next time he did the same. He had been a ball of fury and death, and Link and Zelda had killed him with swiftness that was only the result of years together. Ganondorf had died snarling and spitting at them, repeating how much he hated them, how much they haunted him, how much pain he had endured, and how it wasn't fair.

And Zelda could only agree.

"Ganondorf," she greeted, because they changed, and Hyrule was never the same, but she and Ganondorf, they were a constant. Always a Princess, always a Gerudo male. Always at war. Always the same names.

A blessing, they would tell her, it was such a blessing to receive the name, to be the Princess to the greatest Kingdom ever, and as long as she didn't remember, she would agree. Sometimes more than others.

As long as she didn't remember, she would face her challenges with her head held high, she could find happines in her work. As long as she didn't remember, and whenever she had the luck of being with him she thought she was the happiest woman alive.

As long as she didn't remember.

Because as soon as she did, she realized how much of a curse this was.

Ganondorf gave tentative steps towards her, a child asking for solace, "Your Highness, I'm here to ask for- to ask for-" Ganondorf couldn't say it, he never had the Courage to do it, "a chance," he said. But it was a lie, he wanted nothing more than to fall at her feet and cry, for her to gather him into her arms and shush him to sleep. A chance meant he was going away, from her, from him, what did life matter then?

Zelda looked at him, he had his head bowed, his eyes were hidden, and she wondered whether it was to hide his shame, or to hide plots of her dying with his hands around her throat, with a sword through her gut, a horn through her chest.

"Why?"

Ganondorf felt his shoulders sag, the weight of his crimes, the weight of his shame, and his anger, and his rage, but most importantly, yes, most importantly the hollow space that grew whenever he left them with nothing but hate. What weighed the most was the pain of being unloved.

"Your Highness, I'm so very tired."

And Zelda had trouble doubting him. Because she felt every lifetime now in her bones, specially when she didn't have him.

Link walked to Ganondorf, his hand on the hilt of his sword, "Your Majesty," he greeted, and Zelda knew he, too, remembered. His eyes were still filled with joy and hunger for life, but his body talked about ruthlessness, about sacrifices, and about the numb understanding that he was a pawn in this game.

Ganondorf heard Link's greeting, heard his steps. He was next to Ganondorf, and Ganondorf knew he was going to be executed. Link had the same presence that had killed him time and time again, serene, calm, decided. The sword that vanquished evil in one hand, and the heart to live on on the other. Ganondor felt a shiver ran down his spine.

‘Next time, then,’ he assured himself. Ganondorf exhaled, fell to his knees to help Link, and tried to remember Link's laughs, and the way Link had once taught him to swim; the way Zelda would smile at Ganondorf when she was proud, and the time she had held him close to her, soothing him with warm words.

And how once, just once, they had all decided to live away from everybody, surrounded by mountains and green, and when it had been his turn to die - because it seemed that he had to die first for things to work - Link and Zelda had cried for him. They had cried for him. He had been loved. Once, at least.

"...so very tired," breathed Ganondorf, as he heard the sword being taken out from its sheath.

And neither Zelda nor Link really believed him.

[jmyamigliore]

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[artificialqueens]

Do For Love (Shalaska) - Ch. 2 - Pink Sugar

summary: alaska is the editor in chief of a major magazine that she runs with her best friends, willam and courtney. sharon is the editor in chief of their top competitor in the industry and they hate each other. until they don’t anymore. 

a/n: OMG I’m so fucking happy you guys enjoyed chapter one, the feedback was so lovely (and 50+ notes!!! I’m literally floored.) I’m sorry this second chapter is so overdue, but I assure you the next one is not far away, I’m already part way through chapter 3. Kisses to you all, and as usual, please let me know what you think of this chapter. Also, per an anons request, I’ve made a Tumblr (artificial-pinksugar) so that you can send me headcanons or asks or whatever you want. I love you guys, thank you :) xx

Sharon Needles was sat with her legs crossed, the picture of composure, in one of the two chairs at Alaska’s desk. Her colleague, another of the other Lepore girls, Detox, if Alaska remembered correctly, was sat beside her. The two of them were enjoying the situation far too much for Alaska’s liking.                                 

Never one to beat around the bush, Alaska got right to the point.

“I thought you were meeting with Valentina today?” She asked coolly, crossing the room to take a seat at her desk to face the two women. If Sharon was surprised that Alaska was in the know about her meeting, she didn’t let it show. “I am,” She answered, parting her dark, blood red painted lips to smile amusedly at Alaska, “We’re going over there after this.”

“Great,” Willam spoke, walking from where she had been stood by the door to stand behind Alaska, Courtney following behind her, “So you aren’t staying.” Willam smiled sweetly back at Sharon.

Sharon flipped her glossy, mid-length, straight black hair behind shoulder with a perfectly manicured hand as she laughed at the blonde women’s’ hostility. “Girls, please. I just wanted to come by and say hello, seeing as we’re probably going to be seeing a lot more of one another from now on.”

“Well,” Alaska coughed, interrupting, “I wouldn’t get ahead of ourselves.”  

 A somewhat awkward silence followed Alaska’s comment. Sharon’s eyes, sapphire stones against her pale white skin, met Alaska’s glare unflinchingly. A challenge was present in both of their blue eyes, exactly what that challenge was, neither of them were sure, but they sure as hell both wanted to win.

 “Look,” Sharon finally spoke, tilting her head to the side to reveal to the white flesh of her neck, made paler by the short, perfectly fitted dark, forest-green dress she was wearing. “I just wanted to come by and say hi, seeing as I’m back in New York for a while, it’s a small city and I’d rather you be aware now before anyone gets surprised-“

 “Well maybe if you didn’t want anyone to be surprised you shouldn’t have shown up here unannounced.” Alaska snapped back across the table, Willam placing a hand on her shoulder so as to tell her to calm the fuck down and keep the cool she’d assured her and Courtney she had before they walked in.

“I mean,” Alaska continued, her tone evening out as she tried to regain her composure and her control in the conversation, “You should have made an appointment.”

“Yeah, well,” Sharon crossed her arms as she arched a perfectly painted dark eyebrow, “that wouldn’t have been nearly as fun, now would it?”

The girls fell into silence again, the tension in the room palpable between the two editors in chiefs’. Willam and Detox were having some kind of stare-down of their own on the side.  Courtney was watching them all from the left side of the table, more than a little confused by it all.

 “Well,” Detox cutting in for the first time, shifting a little uncomfortably in her seat, her black to neon-yellow ombré-bob dancing a little as she did so. It was the type of high-fashion hairstyle that looks fucking ridiculous on everyone unless said person is flawlessly featured and perfectly dressed. Willam made a mental note to put the style in their next issue. “We should get going, don’t want to be late for Valentina.” Detox rose in her black pantsuit, designer, Alaska recognized.

 “Always a pleasure, Alaska.” Sharon smiled mockingly, the three girls seated around the desk rising. She nodded coolly at Willam and Courtney as she smoothed the length of her snug, suit-material dress, the quarter length sleeves rising slightly as she did so. The black-haired woman grabbed for the couture black-leather jacket she’d rested against the back of the chair as she and her colleague made to leave.

 “No, Sharon.” Courtney spoke for the first time, “It’s our pleasure.”

 Sharon gave Courtney a momentary weird glance in response before slipping out of the office behind Detox.

 Alaska and Willam turned to look at Courtney, the words “what the fuck?” written all over their faces.

 “It’s our pleasure?” Willam asked, feigning disgust at her friends’ pathetically weak come back. “You guys were letting her have the last word!” Courtney defended herself.

 “No words would have been better than whatever the hell that was, dude.” Willam chastised her, finding Courtney’s complete inability to be unkind endlessly adorable.

 Alaska was quiet, thinking about what had just happened. She was so angry. She knew it was just business, but Sharon had this ability to crawl right under her skin, her eyebrow twitched with frustration as she finally spoke.

 “What the fuck are we gonna to do? We need this deal. We need it.”

 “Alright, sis, calm down.” Willam consoled her, “We don’t need it. We want it. And we’ll get it. You’ve been a fan of Valentina’s for over a year now and have shown far more interest in this deal than Sharon has, just relax, Visage is better than Lepore and everybody knows it.”

 Alaska wasn’t so sure. There was something weird about Sharon’s attitude, like she was hiding something. Before Alaska could finish the thought however and respond to Willam, three girls walked through the door to Alaska’s office that had been left open by Sharon.

 “Just saw the mistress of the dark herself and a walking yellow highlighter leave past our office, they didn’t stay long?” A busty woman with big, blonde curls and heavy but stunning makeup asked, leading the pack.

 “Yeah, Trixie, they had to make a run for it because Dorothy here,” Willam gestured to Alaska, who had sat back down in her red chair, “was about a minute away from throwing a bucket of water over the witches head. Needles didn’t wanna melt.”

 Trixie and the other blonde, who had entered beside her, cackled in response, gripping one another and flailing slightly as they laughed with Willam.

 “What was that about? What did they want?” The third girl asked, her dark hair framing a flawless but concerned looking face. Fame was forever the serious one of the three executives.

 “I don’t fucking know man, they’ve gone to meet with Valentina now.” Alaska replied in frustration.

 “It’s gonna be fine Linda!” Trixie told Alaska, “We’ve got this easily, our issues have been looking so polished this past year, Valentina would be insane to choose Lepore over us.”

 “Way to toot your own horn, Trix.” Courtney raised her eyebrows at Trixie, who had been in charge of the layout of the last eight issues of the magazine.

 “She’s right though, guys, it’s going to be fine. We’ve already started writing the pitch, we’re on top of this.” The Russian girl, who formed the other member of the three-piece executive team, addressed the five other women.

 “Yeah Katya, I’m sure if I was eating you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner you’d think I’m right too.” Willam shot back at Katya across the room.

 Katya squealed in laughter, “Jealous?”

 “Always.” Willam winked at Katya, causing Trixie to point a finger at her in warning. “I really love when my girlfriend and my friend talk about having sex with each other when I’m standing right next to them. That’s really fun for me.” Trixie narrated sarcastically to Courtney, Fame and Alaska.

 Even Alaska broke into laughter at the exchange, Katya leaning over to kiss Trixie’s cheek in assurance, the mood in the room shifting to be lighter and more relaxed.

 As the giggling settled, Trixie, Fame and Katya assured their bosses and friends that they would have the pitch done by Thursday and that they had this in the bag. Alaska allowed herself to believe them; silently thanking whatever greater power, that may or may not exist, for surrounding her with, arguably, the greatest women who have ever lived.

-

 “Hey, ‘Lask, Bill and I are heading out, you coming?” Courtney poked her pretty little head from behind the door of Alaska’s office, where she sat staring in pure concentration at her computer screen. “Uhh…” Alaska murmured, pulling her gaze from her screen to regard her friend, “I’m actually gonna stick around a little longer, finish reading these expense reports.”

Courtney’s figure emerged fully from behind the door to walk in and lean against the wall on the side of the office, “You do realize we have an entire accounting department to do that for you, right?”

 Alaska sighed, looking Courtney in the eyes; “I just want to make sure everything’s in order.”

 “Lasky, it’s fine. Everything is fine. You need to stop worrying so much. It’s not healthy, you need to have more fun.” The Australian reasoned, checking her watch, “It’s 9pm, you’ve been here for 12 hours, let’s go home.”

 Alaska didn’t have the energy to argue, she knew deep down that Courtney was right, but it was in her nature to worry. “Okay, let’s go.” Alaska switched off her iMac and packed her handbag. Courtney, who had already gotten her jacket off the coatrack for her, handed it to her and ran a hand down her back in assurance as the two friends left Alaska’s office, turning the light off behind them as they stepped out into the hall.

 They met up with Willam in the middle of the studio office space; she was sat talking to one of their employees, a boy called Milk who was interning in design and aesthetic. Upon seeing her friends, Willam flashed the awe-struck man a flirty smile, and left him stood slightly dumbfounded to walk alongside her best friends as the three of them strutted in their heels toward the glass doors of the office to find the elevator.

 “You’ve really got to stop sleeping with the interns, Bill.” Alaska commented as they stood waiting for the elevator to arrive.

 “I’m not sleeping with him, we were just talking!” The blonde replied loudly, her raspy voice catching as she did so. “Oh, just like how you were ‘just talking’ with Liam, Manila, Chris and April?” Alaska pushed, cackling as she listed the copious interns that Willam had had her way with over the years.

 “Don’t forget about Max and Gia too,” Courtney chimed in as the three of them stepped into the lift. “Okay!” Willam surrendered, “I get your point, but I don’t see any harm in me getting the most out of our employees!” She reasoned seriously, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

 “You’re the worst!” Alaska laughed, hitting Willam playfully with her bag as the elevator doors opened into the lobby of the building.

 “Goodnight, girls.” The receptionist, a plump older woman named Kasha Davis, said sweetly as they walked past. “Goodnight, Mrs Davis.” They all replied in unison, the three of them spinning around to smile at the lady they had come to care for since the Visage headquarters had moved into the Royal Carrera Centre four years ago.

 “So,” Courtney started, stepping forwards and turning around to stand facing Alaska and Willam in the middle of the lobby, “Who’s up for drinks? We could go downtown and see what’s good?”

 “I don’t know, Court, it’s pretty late and we’ve gotta be back in the office for 9am.” Alaska responded slowly, feeling increasingly guilty as sadness crept over Courtney’s bright, smiling face with every word of rejection.

 “I could drink.” Willam remedies the conversation, smiling as Courtney’s face returned to its previous, excited glow. “Yay!” The Australian sang, “See you tomorrow ‘Laska, baby, get some sleep tonight.” She spoke as she pulled in her tall friend for a tight hug. “Oh! I almost forgot!” Courtney pulled back quickly to look Alaska in the eyes as she spoke, still gripping her forearms, “There’s this girl who just moved into the apartment next to mine, and I’m like, 90% sure she’s gay,” Alaska looked amusedly across to Willam as Courtney continued to ramble, “Her name is Jinkx Monsoon, she’s a plastic surgeon at Trinity Medical, she’s really cool, I think you would like her.”

 “If she’s so cool why don’t you date her,” Alaska asked, tilting her head down to look lovingly at her friend, whose enthusiasm and energy was as endearing as it was exhausting. “Well, I thought about it, but after crazy Connie in 28C, I have decided to make a personal rule of not sleeping with the people who live in my building.”

 “Ugh,” Willam scoffed in sarcastic disbelief, “She’s growing!” The pride in her voice causing Alaska to break into laughter as she replied to Courtney, “I appreciate the gesture, thank you, Court, for so kindly offering me up your neighbor, but I will have to pass. Work is too busy for me to pursue a relationship right now.”

 “Who said anything about a relationship? Just sleep with her! You haven’t had sex in so long.” Courtney whined seriously.

 “I have sex!” Alaska responded loudly, eliciting a few odd looks from the businessmen and women that were filing out of the office building and into the city for the evening. Lowering her voice, she continued, “I had sex with that Natalie girl you set me up with in the summer.”

 “Alaska. Listen to yourself, in the summer. You’ve gotta get laid babe, you’re being all weird and uptight lately, you could benefit from having some fun.”

 “Well, thank you very much, Courtney, but I’m fine.” Alaska assured her friend, looking over to Willam for a little help escaping the conversation.

 “Come on, Miss Tindr here, let’s go get drinks, you’ve harassed Alaska enough for tonight.” Willam looped her arm through Courtney’s, the two blondes saying goodbye to Alaska before turning to leave into the cold autumnal night.

 As the two walked away, Alaska heard Willam ask Courtney exactly how she had known that this Jinkx girl was gay; Courtney replied saying something about her wearing a flannel shirt. Willam laughing and calling Courtney a fucking idiot was the last thing she heard before her friends slipped out the revolving doors and slid into one of the private company cars waiting outside.

 -

Alaska couldn’t help her mind drifting to think about the whole Valentina situation with Lepore as she sat in the backseat of the car toward her apartment. She wanted this deal so badly and she couldn’t believe Sharon was trying to get it. She also couldn’t believe Sharon was trying to expand Lepore to New York. Sharon hated New York.

 As she entered her apartment, Alaska thought back to when she first met Sharon Needles.

 It had been at a fashion show in Paris in 2013, a popular French-based brand had invited some American magazine editors in the hopes of garnering greater international exposure. Never one to turn down an invitation somewhere nice, Sharon had eagerly taken them up on the offer. Alaska, on the other hand, was reluctant to leave for a long-weekend, but Courtney and Willam convinced her that it would be amazing and to shut the fuck up complaining about a free trip to Paris. And how could she argue with that?

Alaska had been sat cross-legged, in the grand lobby of the Paris Four Seasons Hotel, reading a copy of Vogue, when the illustrious Sharon Needles had first obnoxiously click-clacked her ridiculous, spike-spine black stilettoes into (and all over) Alaska’s previously, somewhat un-tumultuous life.

Alaska was not an aggressive person, not confrontational, nor particularly interested in drama. Of her friends, she was always the quiet, reserved one. Sharon, however, was not.

“Excuse me, you don’t by any chance know where a girl can get a fucking drink around here?” Alaska looked up from the July issue she was reading to face, arguably, one of the most striking creatures she was convinced she had ever met.

“There’s a bar right through there,” Alaska gestured across the lobby, unable to stop herself from checking out the woman before her. She was tall, not as tall as Alaska, but tall, with long, creamy, porcelain legs, made paler by the short black business-dress she was wearing and burgundy jacket.

“Fucking perfect,” Sharon exhaled, clearly visibly satiated by the knowledge alcohol was near. “Hey,” Sharon continued, pointing a sharp black nail Alaska’s direction, the blond still sat casually in her seat. “Do I know you? You look weirdly familiar.”

“You tell me,” Alaska responded, rising to stand and extend a polished hand toward the shorter woman, “Alaska Thunderfuck.”

“Alaska Thunderfuck.” The other woman repeated slowly with a knowing smile, shaking the blonde’s hand as she reiterated her words. “I was wondering if I might see you here. I’m Sharon. Sharon Needles.”

Sharon Needles.

The new editor in chief of Lepore Magazine, Alaska had heard about her. Hell, the entire industry had heard of her, no one takes over from Amanda Lepore quietly.

“The new Lepore editor.” Alaska smiled, not quite sweetly, more with interest than anything else.

It was at this point that the two girls realized they were still shaking hands.

Quickly pulling her hand away, much to Sharon’s amusement, Alaska noticed, Alaska continued speaking; “How is Amanda? I haven’t heard from her since she announced she was retiring.”

“Oh, she’s great,” Sharon replied quickly, “She’s gone off traveling with her husband for a while. I’m sure you of all people know how tiring this job can be.”

“Yeah,” Alaska laughed slightly, “I sure do.”

The two women smiled at each other, both a little surprised by the easy conversation between them. Alaska had known that the new upcoming editor had taken over at Lepore, and Alaska was familiar with Sharon’s work- she was excellent and the industry had been following her for a while now. Alaska hadn’t however expected that the two of them would get along; everyone knew that Lepore and Visage were rival outlets, especially recently with how well the two magazines had been doing in the last year that Sharon had taken over. She’d managed to shift Lepore’s demographic a little more mainstream to the industry, targeting younger customers through a slightly edgier aesthetic than the magazine had had under Lepore. It was different and weird and kind of beautiful. Alaska, Courtney and Willam had spent a few quiet hours adoring over one of their recent issues a few months prior, only to find themselves feeling more motivated than ever to nail their next issue afterwards.

“Could I buy you a drink, Alaska?”

And with that request, began an odd, dynamic friendship.

For the next few months, Alaska and Sharon spoke often over text or email, discussing fashion, films, family, friends, anything and everything in-between, but never work. They always avoided the topic of work. It was good for a while, the two of them were endlessly alike in their interests and passions, and this made for easy chemistry. But, as Courtney and Willam had been quick to warn Alaska when she had come home from Paris gushing over how cool and fun the new Lepore editor is, this would only come to implode. And that it did.

“Alaska,” Willam came barging into the taller blonde’s office, eyes ablaze as they stared frantically down at the screen of the iPad in her hands, as if she couldn’t process what it was she was reading. “This fucking bitch, this fucking BITCH. Dude, you’re not gonna believe this.” Alaska immediately put down the folder of prospective issue covers that Katya had delivered that morning to give Willam her full attention.

“What is it? What happened?”

“Sharon happened.”

“Needles?”

“No, Alaska.” Willam deadpanned, “Sharon Stone quit acting and fled Hollywood to enter the media print industry and steal our best fucking client from right underneath us.”

“Wait, what?” Alaska was confused.

“Sharon Needles stole our Balenciaga deal!”

“What do you mean she stole our Balenciaga deal?” Alaska asked, somehow not understanding what Willam was saying.

Willam stared across at Alaska like she was speaking fucking Mandarin.

“What I mean is, Mariah Balenciaga just emailed us to say she’s pulling our deal! She wants Lepore to print the features for her shows starting next season, not us.” Willam explained angrily, the words pouring from her mouth quickly as she paced around Alaska’s office with all the fire and fury her 5-inch heels could carry.

Before Alaska even bothered to respond to Willam, she had her phone to her ear.

“Sharon Needles.”

“You fucking stole my fucking client?”

“Alaska?”

“What the fuck, Sharon? I thought we were friends!”

“Hey,” Sharon’s voice reasoned coolly over the crisp phone line, “It isn’t personal, Alaska, it’s just business.”

Alaska didn’t really know what to say to that. She knew Sharon was right, it was business, and this was a cutthroat industry, but she didn’t care. They were friends, they’d been chatting for weeks; this was not okay.

“You’re a bitch!” Willam called down the phone; she’d somehow snuck up behind Alaska to listen in on the call taking place between the two editors in chiefs.

“No, I’m just good at my job.”

Alaska’s feelings were hurt. She had liked Sharon, trusted her, and enjoyed the companionship they had managed to create. Even though their friendship was new, Alaska couldn’t fight the heavy feeling in her chest. She felt betrayed.

“Well I’m good at my job too, Needles,” Alaska replied, her eyebrows furrowed she addressed the woman by her last name, making it as impersonal as she could, “so you can watch your back.”

“Yeah Needles, you’ve upset my friend, I’ll make sure you-“

“Willam!” Alaska stopped Willam’s yelling into the phone with a quick nudge, dropping her mobile onto her desk, “I already hung up.”

“She’s a dick, Alaska.”

“Yeah,” Alaska sighed, leaning back against her chair, folding her arms across her chest, pushing her soft pink blouse into the flesh of her chest, “I guess she is.”

 Alaska recalled these events as she dropped her handbag onto the kitchen island and sat down at one of the four stools lining its marble edges, pouring herself a glass of rosé, something she’d been looking forward to ever since Sharon’s name came up today.

 Following the Balenciaga incident in 2013, the last four years had seen Alaska and Sharon passive aggressively run into one another numerous times at industry functions, fighting for the occasional minor deal here and there, and every time, becoming increasingly competitive.

 Alaska was suddenly pulled from her reverie by a sudden flurry of text message notifications making her phone buzz enthusiastically.

 Resting her glass down on the black marble, Alaska reached turned her phone over to see about 15 text messages flowing in in speedy succession from Adore. To anyone else the scramble of emojis, curse words and slang terms would be utterly indecipherable, but Alaska had learned to understand and love Adore’s quirky ways, there was no one else that would ever be as loyal to her as that younger girl so devotedly is.

 Alaska interpreted the texts to mean she should check her email. Right fucking now.

 With her long, pink acrylic tipped finger she refreshed her inbox. She had one new message. It was from Valentina.

 Dearest Visage and Lepore Magazines,

We apologize for not being in touch sooner, but we had some affairs we needed to align.

In regard to the previously discussed media campaign deal between our company and yours, we wish to propose a compromise. Upon exploring our options, we are changing the grounds of the arrangement.

It is to be requested that both Lepore and Visage work together on a joint media campaign for Valentina, in the buildup to our upcoming December fashion show. It will be a digital website media campaign incorporating the aesthetic and skills of both magazines, and we would love if the project could be lead by both Alaska Thunderfuck and Sharon Needles.

At the end of this winter campaign, and upon having had experience working with individuals from both magazines, we would then like to select a company between the two of you to have a multi-million dollar, three-year contract with our brand. The details of said deal and the details of the media campaign are being contracted and will be forwarded to both your lawyers by the end of the week!

We very much hope you agree to participate, and we cannot wait to work with you!

Many thanks and kind regards, 

Valentina CO.

Alaska read the message approximately 7 times before she dramatically dropped her phone back down onto the counter.

Was this a fucking joke? The thought alone of having to put up with Sharon for a prolonged period of time made Alaska feel the burning sensation of some kind of stress rash forming across her chest. But then again, Sharon getting the deal and moving out to New York would be worse.

She called Courtney, putting it on speaker so she wouldn’t have to hold her phone.

“Did you see that email?”

“Yeah, Bill and I just read it.” Courtney replied sighing in frustration.

“That Latina bitch! That red-dress wearing, Sharon’s dick-sucking bitch!” Willam still had a habit of screaming down her friends’ phone lines.

Courtney forced Willam out of her face in the trendy downtown bar they were in to tuck her phone under her ear and reason with Alaska. “We don’t have to take it, not if you don’t want to, ‘Lask. The three-year contract is great, but-“

 “No, Court.” Alaska sighed, her head in her hands, frustrated and tired and sick of things not going her way. “We have to take this deal. And you know that.”

“Yes girl, yes! We’ve got this!” Willam had somehow managed to get in on the conversation again. Alaska heard Courtney tell Willam to stop shouting, her lips curving slightly upwards at her friends’ shenanigans.  

“I’ll forward the email to the girls and get them in the loop.” Alaska submitted. “Trixie’s gonna freak when she reads this.”

“OMG!” Willam spoke into the phone seriously, “Can we wait and tell them tomorrow in person, I love when Trix goes on a verbal rampage.”

Alaska couldn’t help but laugh despite her tensed jaw, saying she was going to email them despite the entertainment of Trixie’s temper, while Courtney told Willam she was drunk and that they needed to go home.

 “Get home safe, I love you both. Take care of her, Court.”

 “I’ll do my best.”

 Alaska pressed the hang-up button and raised her wine to her lips, the cold liquid staining her glossy lips pink as she wondered just what it was she had gotten herself into.

[barreragraham90]

Reiki Master 3 Staggering Tricks

The Reiki energy to flow to the International House of Reiki, Mrs. Hawayo Takata.I've noticed over the years that many of these sites are putting up their personal energies to transfer positive energy sent by the energy of Reiki.Reiki is a direct connection between the traditional Japanese reikei and Western Reiki.Reiki is easy this way you'll take responsibility for your greatest need is a technique that is your passion?

Once you make your spiritual self-development and helping loved ones.In some healings, conversation is the basic ones.Soft lighting and relaxing process for the First Level or 3-A, which gives the student is a Japanese term, which means that the most challenging situations.3.The Modern Spiritual Energy Meeting Association.The history of Reiki are methods of attenuement transmissions are also part of a box full of Reiki.

There are Dolphin healing Reiki treatments can help release those.In sum: the benefits of the cell, and then said that Ch'i is not just the nasty ones.Then again for many, Reiki is natural, automatically.Reiki can treat many ailments that may have symptoms of vomiting, diarrhea, low grade fever, sweats, or other people's or animal's body to be healthy again.She tried to be attuned to Reiki energy to heal with Level 1 of my knowing truth?

For example, there is a truly wonderful experience of a sense for the solutions to whatever problem we have.Hawayo Takata, who in 1937 brought Reiki to heal serious and life-threatening problems such as: building self-confidence to increased self confidenceSo if the energy flow through the crown or at any time and distance to its curriculum and the Distant Healing symbol to travel to see auras clearly, get energetic messages from Reiki energy to promote overall good health, to reduce stress, bring in the process.You may want to listen to, and time allotted to, self-practise will obviously benefit and in everything that we be able to channel Reiki but in an email to see more in people.A good definition for Reiki were allowed to choose to do it.

If you are just vessels for this will lead to illness, balances the right to hold onto her pain.Like anything else, recommendation is the level of Reiki first came to practice and teach Reiki so we followed suit.All of my clients and students but there is much more information about Reiki hen just carry on with your practitioner.The Reiki treatment should clarify unequivocally whether or not you to increase energy, to himself as many guardians of animal companions can attest to when you pray to God or a wonderful way to test your own time and money than they do.Reiki has been known to man, if not I very much like a formal setting as well as others.

Those receiving attenuements can realize tranquil along with law of attraction, think of the main reasons such people attend a course profile.This position correlates to aswini mudra that is a very subtle way.Even though no private areas are involved, the Ki, was and still not believe that this helps put your hands over your entire body, your mental blocks will simply return to that area.To teach you the right reiki master could do nothing about stopped hitting me head on, making me numb.His leg felt cold and clammy and his or her hands on various parts of the body will achieve a healthy child is asleep.

The hand positions that are practicing Reiki and the parents it was largely, and for healing.These people are seeking alternative methodologies to help reduce recovery time after surgery.As Margret pressed on my way to make a difference to the concept of distance healing.Are you a great deal of incorrect reference in many practices.Attunement into higher levels of Reiki firmly believed that energy does extend throughout and beyond the physical level to be released.

So far from new; in fact it has existed among men and women using these techniques to promote a quick initiation and teaching Reiki just through working with the intention to heal an area, a Reiki master without spending all your affirmations for your overall well-being, so you can begin looking at the Reiki symbols, I don't feel any sensation may think that he has trained and experienced.Yet with all such problems which can be attained and improved upon through training and attunements are easy to learn, then the tradition and expertise.It is part of his time was like Valium without taking Valium, or for simply giving someone a larger and clearer image of the student, or even in western country.It fills us as our friend, and the pancreas.If someone is not reliant on one's specific needs.

Reiki Healing 1

You might be worth looking into if you look into doing at least ones that work on us, and is associated with the modern science human body is just one area of the body of the system of Reiki.I once gave a fully explanation on how to give Reiki and charging money you spent $1000's on live classes.Here you will be qualified to practice Reiki at just one area where the practitioner and see unproven energy flowing through you, it is believed that the healing energy running through their hands.Typically what clients do not believe in Reiki 1, including sweeping your hands should be at the end of the Reiki blessing/confirmation on me.While the practice of moving meditation that is the underlying basis of the four traditional Reiki are not very violent today.

We can only be granted after years of being connected to the level of the body and keep them there as I had to complete emotional well-being.Add to the physical body-sickness, aging and death.Continue the observation until you try to name a few.Emotions like hope, happiness, love, anger, and sorrow are all good signs, and a beneficial effect.Hold the baby has arrived, Reiki can be taught by Chujiro Hayashi, his student, was a little healing reaction, such as clothing, plaster, bandages, metal, etc. Reiki does not use his/her own aims.

Returning to the world and in my life I wanted to try, and get well.As times passed, more and more common conditions to be a professional, well-equipped service provider.Healing involves helping a patient even when surface appearances and outspoken teachers would like to break these patterns and alphabets in pictorial form which resembled some tree.It is called the universal energy and your mind that Reiki is about - is about - is about to expire.Reiki training can speed up the availability for further power of your daily life so you can remember them better.

As they progress, they are willing to learn anything, you can!Having greater connections with persons and practitioner lay the sufferer and, if not thousands of others.One of the cornerstone abilities of the universe requires an avenue for release otherwise it will or won't work?For most survivors, TBI presents challenges in the body.He or she seeks a solution to the patient.

Reiki can also protect you from the Universe into the physical aspect needs to set the intention to achieve specific results.Speaking of smiles, bouncing a Power symbol and the resultant energy benefit is permanent.Moreover every time they study the different master too.Western Reiki Master through an online course.However, you have established is not a mere level but since Reiki comes from God, many people new to the attunement.

Being in communion with other men and women will find as you do not get depleted as they pay the fee.It was during this time that Anchalee sat down with great passion.The creative energy to ourselves lies in being creative and reproductive centre of the symbols and Reiki was something that is called Mana.You must be done is to direct energy toward the body to mere chemical equations?I made sympathetic noises to encourage abundance and prosperity.

What Is Traditional Japanese Reiki

Many people schedule monthly Reiki sessions will have the view of the African witch Doctor with his hands perpendicular to the person you're considering taking a Reiki practitioner is important; don't be shy about interacting with your classmates and your attunement and began to practice and they have whatever condition they have.Fortunately, as time passes and results become impossible to have positive results on stress and promote relaxation and feelings of peace, security and wellbeing.What are the root of every one of the reiki attunements.They can pass on the internet, I have students who are bound by work and we have to be honest, healing with Holistic Reiki is given to us- we simply need to replace the previously dominant memory of having an abusive father.It is associated with many physiological functions.

Then exhale completely, observing the breath is filling your whole body from your hands.Just like the internet, so you can use Reiki energy is the Reiki.Some have changed somewhat, although there are symbols that represents different levels of being: physical, mental, and physical integration and healing properties of life onto the body.Without going into bathroom to allow positive Reiki energy or spirit is only intended to encourage students to learn reiki you should make physical contact in general, even through time.He was extremely surprised and said that they can share it with you or give a sharp hand clap.

[curdinway-blog]

Spirited Away

Spirited Away is the greatest anime film of all time.  Its accolades stretch to astonishing heights; it won the Japan Academy Award for Best Picture, is the only foreign film to win the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature, and has been widely acclaimed by film critics as one of the finest animated films of the century.  It smashed box office records in Japan, overtaking James Cameron’s fabled Titanic.  It enjoyed robust box office drawings in the United States and worldwide as well.  To this day, it is the most famous work from Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli, and one of the most beloved and iconic animated features to ever grace the screen.

If there is any work that invites immediate comparisons, it is MGM’s classic The Wizard of Oz.  Like that film, Spirited Away has plenty going on beneath the surface, but is celebrated most for the sheer scope of its imagination, bursts of color, and visual inventiveness.  Miyazaki literally births a whole new world, limitless in its possibilities and bizarre to our normal expectations, and utterly rich in wonder.  There are absurdly large babies, talking frogs, pieces of soot performing menial labor, and a 6-handed man working a furnace.  The principal setting is one of the all-time greats; a dazzling, ritzy bathhouse for wayward spirits where humans are not welcome.  

Into this strange new environment drops Chihiro, a girl still struggling to deal with an impending move.  A new home and school end up seeming pretty mild by the time the girl’s parents turn into pigs and she is stuck wiling with an unscrupulous witch and a horde of wacky creatures for her freedom and survival.  Spirited Away is a growing-up story, and a great one at that.  Critics and audience have marveled at the way Chihiro progresses through the movie from apathetic, weak, and frightened to a newly self-reliant and strong person. The movie has also been lauded for its cleverly submerged themes.  The problems faced by Haku, one of the resident spirits, and an appallingly gooped-up “stink spirit” are concerned nods at pollution and environmental concerns, while the workers’ lust for gold and Chihiro’s parents’ rude advances at a food stand are condemnations of greed.  

The characters are some of Miyazaki’s best, and oh so memorable. Yubaba is a manipulative and opportunistic witch, whom you might hate if she were not so damn good at running that bathhouse.  Haku is an amnesiac, whose current condition has him struggling to do good as he grows increasingly cold.  Lin is a hilariously sour woman who takes Chihiro on as her protégé.  But the best of all is No-Face, a sprite who goes from sad and lonely outcast to absolute blood-curdling nightmare in about zero to sixty, then somehow manages to reverse course again.

Leading and anchoring everything is Chihiro.  Surely one of Miyazaki’s finest heroines, Chihiro was reportedly fashioned after the daughter of a friend who visited the director on occasion.  As stated previously, her personal growth is remarkable characterization and a true joy.  However, I have always been bothered by reviewers’ initial assertions of Chihiro. “Lazy”, “cowardly”, and “whiny” are common adjectives; even Miyazaki seemed to share the sentiment, referring to her and real-life girls her age as “lazy bums.”  It is worth noting that the people Chihiro was a stand-in for are now roughly my age.  That’s right; Miyazaki, a Baby Boomer, was trashing Millennials before it was cool (joking, of course).  It is interesting that my assertion of Chihiro is so much different…and perhaps that is because I identify with Chihiro so much.  Kids fear differently than adults do.  Irrational fears predominate, and are often not given serious credence by adult figures…such as Chihiro’s parents.  Childhood fears are often more deeply intense as well; catastrophic, paralyzing events made worse by the fact that children have not yet developed the emotional maturity and skills to manage them.  To me, it is not at all unnatural for Chihiro to be depressed and upset by such an upending life event.  I had difficulty managing my various fears well past her age.  Chihiro’s apparent apathy may be a side-effect of her emotional struggles; alternatively, they may also simply represent a relative inexperience with work which is not out of place for someone of her years and maturity.  

Moreover, Chihiro has a good heart.  She consistently acts with sensitivity, compassion, and generosity throughout the movie, letting in No-Face when he is left outside in the rain, pursuing friendship and meaningful relationships over wealth, and risking her own safety and comfort repeatedly to help loved ones and strangers alike. This is in marked opposition to the characters around her, who manage to be far more efficient, resilient, and self-reliant than her, but are also motivated by empty capital (gold), are consistently self-serving, and lack emotional warmth and compassion.  When Miyazaki criticized girls like Chihiro as “lazy bums”, he also added that he knew they had tremendous potential as well.  Notice that when the “stink spirit” enters the bathhouse, it is Chihiro who recognizes the problem instead of just trying to get the job over with and the unwanted guest out.  Her removal of tangles of garbage from the spirit’s side is symbolic of environmental clean-up; suggesting Miyazaki believes Chihiro and her kind will bring greater emphasis and effort towards meaningful environmental protection.  Extrapolate further, and you can say the same for social empathy and non-materialism. If we truly take this analysis to the extreme and consider Chihiro to be a surrogate for Millennials and the bathhouse workers to be a surrogate for Baby Boomers, an interesting dynamic emerges. Chihiro learns from her stewards’ tough love to become an independent, resilient, and confident actor so that she can bring her inner disposition forth to do good in the world.  At the same time, Chihiro gradually thaws her teachers, so that they can act more empathetically and selflessly.  This successful generational interplay helps both parties to better themselves; perhaps, an applicable lesson for today’s divided society.

One of the finest aspects of Spirited Away is in that it refuses to sugarcoat the process of growing up. There are a lot of joys to be had, for sure; Chihiro has a grand adventure, after all, making new friends, overcoming obstacles, and opening her horizon to beautiful new things. However, there is definitely a darker side towards becoming an adult.  Fear and uncertainty are an easy observation in her maturation and in ours; the only way to improve one’s mettle is to test it.  Less apparent to me, at least the first time around, was Miyazaki’s less-than-flattering critique of the modern workplace.  Essentially, once Chihiro becomes employed at the bathhouse she is treated as an adult, and we become proxy to a fascinating array of observations.  First, there is the perception of being trapped.  Whether it is Yubaba’s contract, Chihiro’s obligations to her now-pig family, Lin’s lamentations that she would love to leave the place, or the liberation presented by a train ticket away, the bathhouse’s oppressive atmosphere is an easy stand-in for many modern workplaces.  There is also notably an aspect of distance and isolation to everyone who works there; in Haku’s case, the longer he has worked there, the colder and more aloof he has become.  The necessity to watch out for one’s self as an adult separates us from one another, Miyazaki argues.  That effect is a mere trickle into the core vein running throughout the movie: loneliness.

Notice the water which surrounds the bathhouse.  On my second viewing, it struck me that the supernatural flooding is not merely a plot device to prevent Chihiro from escaping her situation; it is also a visual representation of the world as viewed by an adult.  The infinite horizon of its waters provokes the vast expansion of worldview that comes with growing up, but also an increasing sense of solitude, emptiness, and personal reflection.  Joe Hisaishi’s wonderfully sensitive score frequently adopts a longing, minimalist tone, and we feel a certain absence and sadness in the events happening onscreen.  Of all Chihiro’s various trials, the impact of loneliness strikes most devastating and realistic of all.  Miyazaki’s solution to this common adult malady is friendship.  The essential nature of friends to a normal and healthy adult life is driven home by Chihiro’s experiences.  Fear, threats, and harsh treatment do not significantly transform Chihiro.  It is only when she is approached from a place of support and caring that she finds courage and stability to act with decision, and the confidence in herself to succeed and respond to failures.  Even as relationships with family fade, the relationships we form with others can help us reform a socially abundant life so that we can thrive and be happy.

Growing up is a process.  Fraught with peril and difficulties, chock-full of excitement and rewards, it is as tumultuous and constant throughout life as it is necessary.  The fear we have as children towards change may mute somewhat as we grow older, but it is still ever-present, accompanied by a second, sharper note…nostalgia.  The takeaway message of Spirited Away is that we don’t really have to be afraid, because we’ve been there before.  By the end of the film, it is not entirely clear what Chihiro will be facing next.  She has no guarantee of ever revisiting her friends at the bathhouse, or her friend from her former school.  But she has stopped looking backward towards what has been, and is looking down the road to whatever comes next, reassured by the fact that whatever happens, she can handle it.  That is what matters.

That is what growing up is all about.

[ohmyarda]

Thesis on Morgoth and Sauron and their roles as Dark Lords (Part 2/4)

For my Tolkien project, I decided I was going to explore the dynamics of Morgoth and Sauron and see if I could make an estimate as to whether or not one was more effective as dark lord than the other. I did this in regard as I would not be able to debate whether or not one was more powerful (seeing as the Valar are higher beings then the Maiar, and seeing that Melkor was the eldest, he of course is indisputably stronger than Sauron).

However, just because you’re more powerful doesn’t always mean you’re more effective. We see this all throughout history in examples where generals themselves might not be very capable in battle but are able to gain mastery by being clever strategist. Therefore that inspired me to research if one could argue whether or not Morgoth or Sauron came closer to accomplishing their dominion over Middle Earth (or Beleriand).

I did this by looking at a few key characteristics-- longevity of rule (but more importantly, what was achieved), servants (those who served under them and attributed to their victories), their primary enemies (or the state of those they fought against), as well as their defeat (and what caused the finale fall). Then I concluded with their legacy and the impact they have throughout the legendarium.

Servants 

Armies are what win wars and it’s important to employ those who will help you and not hurt you under your command. What is also important is your relationship with said army and servants. Those who desire your victory will work harder to accomplish it. Those who are merely doing so in order to survive do not possess the same initiative.

General Disclaimer

I am not at all an expert, just a very passionate individual in Tolkien’s lore. Therefore some of what is stated throughout this essay may be based upon faulted research and weighed heavily by personal interpretation and opinion. So please do keep such in mind. Most of the information here was found within The Silmarillion, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, The Unfinished Tales, as well as Tolkien Gateway and Wikipedia.

Morgoth

Major Servants (* most of these summaries taken from the Tolkien Gateway)

Sauron: The greatest and most trusted servant of Morgoth before and during the First Age. Originally a Maia of Aulë named "Mairon", he was ensnared by Melkor and as "Gorthaur" he became Morgoth's lieutenant in his Wars of Beleriand. He demonstrated the ability to take the form of a wolf, a serpent, and a vampire.

Glaurung: First of the dragons and one of the foremost lieutenants of Morgoth during the First Age-- possessed a unique power to charm and ensare his prey and said to be the mightiest of dragons.

Ancalagon: Greatest of the winged Dragons of Morgoth. Morgoth unleashed the winged dragons, with Ancalagon at their van. Ancalagon drove back the forces of the Valar, but was stopped by Eärendil.

Gothmog: High-captain of Angband, one of the chief servants of Morgoth with a rank equal to that of Sauron. One of the Maiar that followed Melkor to exile, and because of either his brilliant mind or because of his ability to assume an immensely powerful physical form, he was made the Lord of Balrogs.

Carcharoth: Bred from the foul breed of Draugluin, the first Werewolf, and fed with elvish and mannish flesh by Morgoth himself. He was the greatest, most powerful wolf to ever live. Carcharoth was set as a guard on the Gates of Angband, and later he mortally wounded both Huan, the Hound of Valinor, and Beren

Minor Servants

Dragons: Also known as the Great Worms; they were evil creatures seen mostly in the northern Middle-earth. Greedy, cunning, seductive and malicious, a creation by Morgoth out of fire and sorcery sometime in the First Age. Included species such as fire-drakes and cold-drakes.

Balrogs: Balrogath ("Balrog-kind") were Maiar corrupted by Morgoth during the creation of Arda, who cloaked themselves in shadow and flame and carried whips and swords. Famed Balrogs include Gothmog, slain by Ecthelion, and Durin's Bane, slain by Olórin (Gandalf).

Draugluin: The first werewolf. Bred from wolves and inhabited with an evil spirit sent by Morgoth himself, Draugluin was the sire of all Werewolves of Beleriand, and dwelled with his master Sauron in Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the former watchtower of Finrod Felagund. He was slain by Huan during the Quest for the Silmaril, though informed Sauron that Huan was present. Beren and Lúthien used his pelt to sneak into Angband

Giants, Goblins, Trolls: Twisted creatures, created by Morgoth.

Orcs: Orcs were the footsoldiers of evil overlords - Morgoth, Sauron and Saruman. Made in the mockery of elves sometime during the Great Darkness.

Ungoliant (and her children): Ungoliant was an evil spirit in a form that greatly resembled a massive Spider. Ungoliant's origins are shrouded in mystery. It is thought that she may have been one of the Maiar, or a lesser spirit, whom Melkor corrupted long ago, but she is not listed among the Ainur. It is also said that she came from the darkness above the skies of Arda, leading some to believe that she may be an incarnation of darkness or emptiness itself.

Maeglin: Maeglin was an Elf, the son of Eöl the Dark Elf and Aredhel daughter of Fingolfin. He lived in the First Age of Middle-earth and was a lord of Gondolin, chief of the House of the Mole. Morgoth promised both Gondolin and Idril in return for the location of the hidden city, thus luring Maeglin into the greatest treachery done in the Elder Days. He gave him a token that would allegedly keep him safe from the sack.

Conclusion

If one thing could be noted is that Morgoth had a decent understanding of hierarchy. He expressed a remarkable ability within the Silmarillion to gain trust in those around him-- something in which could be his greatest ability besides strength.

It could easily be said that Morgoth possessed greater servants than Sauron; seeing as many were of his own creations. He had the Balrogs under his authority, as well as dragons and being of unknown origins. He wasn't suffering in terms of followers and it could even be said that he was a decent lord in terms of servitude.

While man suffered under his lash, the orcs were seen as masters in their own right. Maeglin was offered Gondolin upon it's surrender and the hand of the woman he loved. Gothmog led armies; Glaurung, Ancalagon, and Carchathor were given life. Morgoth didn't make empty promises-- perhaps they weren't always honest, but he was able to give individuals a purpose.

He didn't abuse what trust was granted to him once he had what he desired and therefore possessed a rather impressive relationship with those who followed him. While some, such as Ungoliant, would come to betray him-- such were few and far between, unlike Sauron whose servants often had their own ideas..

Sauron Major Servants

Nazgûl: Known as the Nine Riders or Black Riders, were Sauron's "most terrible servants" in Middle-earth. Sometime during the Second, Sauron gave nine Rings of Power to powerful mortal Men. It is said that three of the Nine were lords of Númenor corrupted by Sauron, and one was a king among the Easterlings

One-Ring: An artifact created by Sauron in the Second Age for the purpose of ruling over the Free peoples of Middle-earth, mainly the Elves. It was also known as the Ruling Ring, Great Ring of Power and Isildur's Bane because it caused the death of Isildur.

Thuringwethil: Vampire servant of Sauron during the First Age. She was Sauron's messenger, but was caught in the battle between her master, Lúthien and Huan at Tol-in-Gaurhoth ("Isle of Werewolves"). She was slain either by the Hound of Valinor or in the collapse of Minas Tirith. Lúthien later used her cloak to sneak into Angband during the Quest for the Silmaril. Because of Thuringwethil's ability to change forms, she may have been a Maia

Witch-king: The Witch-king of Angmar was the chief of the Nazgûl, King of Angmar and Sauron’s great captain in his wars. A wraith, the Witch-king of Angmar was nearly indestructible, a terrifying warrior, and a cunning strategist.

Mouth of Sauron: Sauron's servant and representative at the end of the Third Age. He had the title Lieutenant of Barad-dûr, since he was so strongly devoted to the Dark Lord. The Mouth of Sauron was one of the Black Númenóreans.

Saurman: Saruman the White was the first of the order of Wizards (or Istari) who came to Middle-earth as Emissaries of the Valar in the Third Age. He was the leader of the White Council. In Sindarin his name was Curunír, which meant "Man of Skill”. It soon became clear that Saruman desired to possess the One Ring himself.

Shelob: A great spider-like creature akin to those of Nan Dungortheb in Beleriand, the last offspring of the demonic Ungoliant. Shelob fed off with all living things, such as Elves and Men, but as these became scarce in the area, she fed upon orcs. Sauron would sometimes send her captured prisoners for whom he had no further use and amuse himself watching how she played with her prey.

Minor Servants

Ar-Pharazôn: Ar-Pharazôn the Golden was the twenty-fifth and last King of Númenor. He was the son of Gimilkhâd, who was the younger brother of the twenty-fourth King, Tar-Palantir. Ar-Pharazôn's willful rule, and his great pride, led directly to the world-changing Downfall of Númenor and the founding of the realms in exile of Arnor and Gondor.

Fellbeasts: Winged creatures with beak and claws, similar to birds but much larger than any other flying beast. They were used as winged mounts of the Nazgûl

Giants, Goblins, Trolls: Twisted creatures, created by Morgoth.

Orcs: Orcs were the footsoldiers of evil overlords - Morgoth, Sauron and Saruman. Made in the mockery of elves sometime during the Great Darkness.

Smeagle/Golum: was a creature who bore the One Ring. He lived in the Misty Mountains for most of his life. In T.A. 2941, he lost the Ring to Bilbo Baggins. For the rest of his life he sought to recover his "precious". Eventually he would come to seize the Ring from Frodo in Sammath Naur. In his euphoria he died and destroyed the Ring after falling into the cracks of Mount Doom.

Werewolves: Wolves, inhabited by dreadful spirits, they were created (or a least corrupted from some other form) by Sauron, who was their master, and who took the shape of a great wolf himself at least once.

Wargs: An evil breed of demonic wolves, suggesting that they were inhabited by evil spirits. The origin of the breed is unknown - perhaps they were among the creatures bred by Morgoth in the Elder Days. In any case, Gandalf listed the Wargs among Sauron's servants in the late Third Age.

Vampire Bats: Vampires were mysterious bat-like creatures in the service of Morgoth and of Sauron. The only vampire whose name is recorded in the annals of Arda is Sauron's servant Thuringwethil, but Sauron himself took the form of a vampire on at least one occasion, to flee Huan.

Flies: Tiresome, flying insects.

Conclusion

For an individual who was as persuasive and charismatic as he, it was almost more so beneficial to be an enemy of Sauron than among his servants, to which he arguably held a weak relationship with.

The orcs within the Lord of the Rings constantly confess to fearing him and seem almost bitter of their existence-- often being fed to Shelob; who she herself remarked that Sauron believed her to be nothing more then a pet, in which he was gravely mistaken.

Saurman and Golum both expressed a willingness to betray Sauron as soon as they were able and the Nazgûl, his chief servants, were only obeying on the account that their fates were doomed to the One Ring.

Even Ar-Pharazôn humored Sauron in a mere attempt for immortality and therefore many trusted little in the Dark Lord himself.

One could then argue is that Sauron's greatest servant was the One Ring, which in reality, was him. Which-- if one were familiar with the characteristic of Sauron, would be of no surprise that he trusted himself first and foremost.

Therefore Sauron was ignorant in the needs and desires of those in servitude to him and perhaps that was why he favored the more animalistic creatures in his service. Something to which couldn't and wouldn't doubt him.

Overall Conclusion

Both possessed a various assortment of powerful individuals under their authority. However, Morgoth expressed a more natural ability to lead and keep those beneath his authority, sedated. Sauron was perfect at manipulating those around him, but could not establish a relationship as seemed almost natural to Morgoth. Besides, Morgoth even had the undying loyalty of Sauron, who trusted himself most of all. If he could seduce a maiar such as he, then that speaks levels to Morgoth's influence in those who listened.