#Acolyte Terry

[stuckinuniformdevelopment]

@bishop-percival

(Previous) Bishop Percival slowly lifted the mitre out of the box. He held it in the air at different angles to watch the gems sparkle. Then he brought it close to his face and inspected it. “Hm…” He went over to his full length mirror and put it on. He stared at himself for a couple of seconds. He cringed. Then he grinned. Then he made a confused grimace. He took it off and tapped the Eye of Merotamia on the top. “Eh! It’ll do. It’ll have to do.” He walked back over to his desk and set the mitre down. Addressing Theodore he said, “I’m glad ya managed to finish it a bit early! I knew all you needed was a little encouragement!” Percival plopped down in his comfortable armchair. “Now all I need to do is tell Terry to get some more fuel and we can finally move on with our ritual.” He raised his hand in preparation to snap his fingers, about to unlock the door. But he paused, then lowered it. He gave Theodore a sly grin. “Say… Are you busy Friday night, Bowtie? How would you like the exciting opportunity to join in on our ritual, hmm?”

Theodore impassively watched Percy’s overblown reactions. Who knows and who cares what any of them meant. All that mattered was that it was good enough. And with that, he could leave.

By the time Bishop Percival reached his desk Theodore was already pushing his chair in. He politely nodded at that bastard bishop’s self-congratulatory praise while holding back annoyance stemming from his wounded pride.

Theodore slightly increased his pace at the talk of Terry’s fuel. “Glad it's done with.” Then he perked up when Bishop Percival asked about his plans.

It took awhile to respond despite instantaneously coming up with his answer. Or ideal answer, anyway. He had a feeling that nothing was optional when he was locked in.

Eventually Theodore turned to humbly lower his head. “As much as I appreciate the honor... A mere acolyte like me isn’t worthy of meeting the great Zyrothe. Especially not when I’ve recently angered a goddess.”

Then he straightened up and met his eye. “Besides: I already made plans with my brother.”

[androgynousgaz]

Terry

Qimir

-

In regards to the poll I posted a week ago aka this one

[terrence-silver]

Okay but like past twig and John having a sleepover with tiny da eun and watching her over the summer they would be the best caregivers with her

---

Realistically, I think Terry Silver would hate that. 😬

Not the spending time with John Kreese bit in whatever capacity said time might be spent, but the fact that there's this little kid there...taking up all the damn attention. And he doesn't like sharing. He wants to be the focus. He wants him and John to be the focus and them hanging out. Sure, he charmingly tolerates her for John's sake (and for their Sensei's sake) because John seems taken with her and Terry, he follows John's lead, always, doing everything to appease his friend, but at the same time it's like a clear distraction for the two of them, the adult men, to actually go and do adult men things while out in Korea. They survived Vietnam, for god's sake! They're going through some of the most torturous, backbreaking training known to man under this Master. They've earned their leisure and their fun. Terry's thinking a night out, hookers, blackjack, cigars, some unhinged underground sex club somewhere, down in some nearby city where they preform the craziest things and booze and he'll undoubtedly insist on paying the entire bill for all of these activities too, because why not, but here's this little girl John's playing house with and mothering. Oh, he's a caregiver alright, it is just that Terry thinks John should, you know...stop. It's like, first it is Johnny Lawrence being his hyperfocus back in the States and now it's Kim Da Eun in Korea. They could go out into the jungles of Borneo and Terry swears John would found a pet project for himself there too and there he would be, good, devoted friend that he is, entirely indulging him in it. If he wants to adopt, he should've just said so. Terry knows some people who know some people who can make all the right calls. Sheesh. And what's worse, Master Kim Sun-Yung might just agree with Terry's sentiment and think Da Eun has no business taking up his student's time because this isn't a kindergarten, this is a dojang --- they're his acolytes and not her play-dates, nannies and friends --- leading to punishment possibly ensuing for the little girl. Children with children. Men with men. Keep the two separate is what Master Kim Sun-Yung could say. If Terry discreetly rats her out (which he just might if it means this whole summer camping nonsense is put an end to) he thinks it is well deserved and Terry's convinced it was well deserved too seeing as how this kid downright got in the way of everything, mainly John and him. Master Kim doesn't consider John that good of a student not based on skill, but perhaps due to this lingering softness that should just die already. And it definitely does die by the 80's --- we know that. Terry doesn't have it. That's why he's the actual star golden boy of the dojang. He's duplicitous, he tells on people, he schemes, he's cruel, he's slithery, he's so disciplined and self-content about it he's almost too rigid at times and these are, ironically, top notch Cobra qualities their Master appreciates even at the expense of his own grandchild.

Because Silver knows the creed and ways of things around here.

A little too well, I might add. Takes to it like a fish to water.

He just stands by and blankly watches Da Eun get flogged by her grandfather, even going as far as trying to stop John from intervening. That man doesn't give that many damns for that girl. Perhaps he was only ever just nice enough to warrant Da Eun wanting to fly in to to States decades later, but even that, by the looks of her, she did begrudgingly. First thing she does is ask for John. Woman wasn't at all tremendously pleased to see Terry. Sure, she and her goons immensely respect him and bow to him, but there's no visibly grand warmth there.

But, like, not that we'll ever know for sure, but I feel there's an obvious reason Kim Da Eun likes John Kreese much better in later years and it is the clear fact he was somehow, in ways we'll never see, more genuine towards her. Kids have a way of sensing this. And the adults later on carry this realization forth with them through life. John liked her and Terry was only pretending to, and in fact, probably not even pretending that hard. He never once interacts with her as a child and possibly cordially ignored her and was only ever that typical, artificial manner of faux-polite for the Master's and John's sake. I could be reaching with the characterization but I feel, somewhere deep down, in the vaguest of ways, Kim Da Eun remembers.

Not that Terry dislikes Da Eun, he probably only ever liked her around because John liked her around (And anything for John, right?) but that is probably simultaneously the reason he didn't like her around too much.

[aeshnacyanea2000]

It occurred to Lobsang, not for the first time, that the abbot was a little bit more than purely random in his attacks on the man. The acolyte was, indeed, the kind of mildly objectionable person who engendered an irresistible urge in any right-thinking person to pour goo into his hair and hit him with a rubber yak, and the abbot was old enough to listen to his inner child.

-- Terry Pratchett - The Thief Of Time

[polkadotmotmot]

Terry Leness - The Acolyte, 2017

[omaano]

Get to know me tag game

Was tagged by @lesquatrechevrons, @coldbrewarts ,@cacodaemonia and @insertmeaningfulusername ❤️

Rules: answer + tag 9 people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with

Fav colour? Purple

Last song: True Friends by Bring Me the Horizon

Currently reading: Lords and Ladies by Terry Pratchett. Also listening to Etiquette and Espionage by Gail Carriger. It's in the name of research, but I was surprised how much I enjoy it, it's fun!

Currently watching: The Acolyte

Currently craving: a vacation

Coffee or tea: both, please

Any hobby you'd like to try?: crocheting

Any discipline you'll follow during the olympics?: swimming, but if there is a team/competitor from my country I will tune in whatever the discipline is - I like watching sports in the background

Any AU/Alternative Universe you're plotting for?: Hades AU, always and forever, since it's more than half my artistic identity at this point I’m afraid XD and whatever college AU we're spinning with Shevek lol I will post my silly little drawings for that sometime this century I swear X"D

no pressure tagging: @whiskygoldwings @lionsaint @elwinged @rooksunday @aces-to-apples

@ominouspuff @sidhebeingbrand @ghosts-of-rishi @theproblemwithstardust

[kaseyskat]

(#4 - a kiss where it hurts- requested by @cookies-over-yonder) 

For as long as they have been fighting incursions and battling off the acolytes of the Doodler, Nicky’s gained his fair share of cuts and bruises. As one of few healers in the group, he’s used to brushing off any minor scrapes– they weren’t worth his healing spells, not when Lark and Grant both were very adept at getting themselves into sticky situations that required more than one application of cure wounds. 

Because of that, he hardly notices when Sparrow pulls him aside after a mission, frowning at his face. “You’re bleeding.” 

“Oh.” Nicky brushes a hand against his cheek– it comes back red and sticky, blood staining his fingertips. “Huh.” 

Their mission is finished. Nobody was seriously injured, but Nicky is exhausted, his stamina depleted after a tough battle. He doesn’t know how Sparrow does it– he manages combative magic with healing magic with weapons with ease and then still has the energy to take care of them all back at HQ alongside his dad. 

Sparrow’s brows are all knitted together. He reaches his own hand up to gently caress Nicky’s cheek, and Nicky winces under the touch; the cut stings far more than he had expected, now that the adrenaline is wearing off. 

“I’m fine,” he promises, even as Sparrow pulls his hand away. “It’s just a little cut. Nothing I can’t handle.” To punctuate this, he gives a warm, reassuring smile that’s only half fake. 

Sparrow takes a glance behind them. They’re alone– Grant and Lark both prefer to be alone after meetings, and Terry is always analyzing their data and figuring out where they need to go next, so it’s just Nicky and Sparrow left alone here with nobody to disturb them or wonder what they might be doing. 

“You shouldn’t walk around with an open cut, it’ll get infected,” Sparrow says, and he smiles gently. “Let me?” 

“You really shouldn’t waste your spells,” Nicky protests half-heartedly, but Sparrow shoots him a look and he closes his mouth before he can finish the thought. “Okay. Yes ma’am.” 

Sparrow snorts, and he leans up on his tiptoes, one hand curling around Nicky’s chin to hold him steady while he presses a kiss to Nicky’s cheek where the cut is. His lips tingle, and then warmth spreads through Nicky’s cheek and down to his stomach. Sparrow’s magic feels like the first patches of sunlight after a stormy day, washing over him like a brook bubbling over a waterfall, and he can only sigh in relief as the cut stops stinging. 

As Sparrow pulls away, smugly satisfied, Nicky catches his hand and drags him back, kissing him in earnest. “Thanks,” he murmurs against Sparrow’s lips, letting the words be caught between them. 

“Mhm. Anytime, if this is the reward,” Sparrow whispers with an amused purr, and Nicky laughs, kissing him again. 

(send me a number and a ship and i'll write you a kiss)

[tech-sapphy]

hi dndads tumblr

post-s2e39 - ‘hey, dude!’ (major spoilers ahead)

enough

scary-centric

——

——

scary couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard she tried. not after everything.

after willy teleported away from the church and hermie and taylor’s dad had taken care of all the doodler’s acolytes, they took the night to recuperate in the catbus. it’s a good thing the doodler- dude- had bonded with the catbus. they had fallen asleep while petting it, and it was purring up a storm from the affection, making the bus extra warm and comfortable. it’s nice, and helps the physical exhaustion she feels from everything that happened with the doodler… taking a physical form today. the purring also makes for a comfortingly predictable rhythm of sound that blocks everything else out, a soft lull that makes scary feel as safe as she could possibly feel right now.

but she still couldn’t sleep.

she was just tossing and turning. in her peripheral vision she saw link and taylor snoring away, not far from normal, who was leaning on hermie’s shoulder. god, she wishes she could sleep like that.

she thought about putting the sleeping cap on. but- whenever she did that she always saw him there. that fuckwad, willy. god, she felt stupid for ever trusting him, or wanting to confide in him, or seeing a… father figure in him.

she’s lost any chance of having that now, hasn’t she.

she couldn’t do anything right- and anything she did do right would never be enough to deserve it.

it’s all too much to think about. she just wants to forget. to not care. and if that means seeing willy again- well, whatever. he’ll probably just ignore her anyways. she considers whether she can cast spells while in her dream state. if not, she could just punch him right in the face.

she puts the cap on.

——

when scary puts the sleeping cap on, she ends up in the same place.

to her great relief, she sees someone new. the old man she became when they found that weird time-thing at the church of the doodler. her step-step-grandpa, she guesses.

okay, so she feels relief tinged with annoyance, a little bit of disgust, and… comfort? ugh, where is that coming from?

he looks around, confused- he seems surprised by his surroundings, and then while cocking his head around, he sees her. his eyes widen with what scary can tell is recognition, and… something else that she can’t quite make out. but it’s not bad.

‘it’s you.’

that hits a raw nerve, and frustration washes over her. she grimaces.

‘…who even is ‘me’ anymore?’

this guy… ron, she remembers, he looks regretful. he starts to stumble over his next words.

‘well, you’re you. you, uh, might not know who you is right now, but you’re going to figure it out. you’re a smart girl, i know you will.’

on those last few words, his tone of voice changes to something familiar, too familiar. it hits on a fresh wound. her heart sinks a little- out of (what she wants to think is) dread. or resentment. just... anything but sadness.

she’s drawn out of her thoughts by the change in his cadence as ron says ‘…and for now, you are you. and you’re always gonna be you, and that’s enough, kiddo.’

that bit doesn’t help, but scary’s heart warms a bit at the attempt. ugh. she hates this feeling.

out of nowhere, ron snaps his fingers, and looks a lot happier all of a sudden. ‘oh- oh yeah! by the way, terry says he loves you, and also hi. oh, hi, i’m ron. you might’ve heard of me, my name gets around, just like me. heheh.’

(he tried to sound cool with that, she could tell. it came out a little smug, but just… more awkward than anything. not that she really processed the words that he was saying after that first sentence. so she ignored them.)

‘could you, uh…’ she could feel tears coming on, the familiar tension and blur behind her eyes that she hated, because it meant that she cared, and she didn’t want to, damn it. it hurt.

ron looked at her patiently, waiting. she steeled herself.

‘… tell terry i said hi, too, or…’

she chokes up. she shoves down anything else she wanted to say- she can’t find words for it anyways.

‘yeah, whatever. just hi.’

ron smiles. ‘okay. oh, and remember: you’re enough-‘

scary’s eyes widen as another voice starts to impose itself over ron’s. he puts his hands on her shoulders, and she swears she sees a flash of a painfully familiar face donning a warm smile.

‘-as you are.’

—

she wakes up with a sense of peace. it feels weird. she wants to hate it, and tries to think of everything that makes it hard to be her. thinks back to her poetry and concept albums.

there’s a lot of bad feelings, but she still doesn’t hate that peace.

she also feels stronger. her hands are warm in a familiar way. her patron bond was broken, but maybe…

sure enough, when she looks at them, they’re glowing with magic.

everyone else is still sleeping, and the sky is dark. sneaking out of the catbus, the first thing she sees is the smattering of stars littering the dark blue sky- not pitch black, like she’s used to.

the stars are pretty. pretty cool looking, she guesses. she read about how stars were balls of fire, basically, and that’s pretty damn cool. she doesn’t want to stop looking at them.

so she doesn’t, as she lets the magic coalesce in her hands.

she can’t quite control the feeling that arises in her as she’s looking up at those stars that maybe… things are gonna be alright.

——

——

[paintedlight]

mischief monday!

Anger sets his blood on fire. Not in the literal way that Nick and his demon genetics do, but it felt like any moment Lark was finally going to receive the Oak magic he has been waiting for, only for it to consume him whole.

The acolyte has shattered through the barrier that Sparrow and Terry set around it, knocking them all across the train tracks. Scattered and wounded.

Lark can’t even feel alarm when he realizes he isn’t able to move his legs, his right arm impaled on a broken railway spike. Nick tried to cover his body from the blast. Demon wings curled tight and arms around Lark’s head. Nearby he can see that Nick isn’t moving.

A gunshot rings out. The silencer isn’t enough to keep the monstrosity quiet when it roars as Grant’s bullet pierces its skull. A last ditch effort. They wanted to try saving her.

“Lark?”

Tearing his eyes away from the creature, Grant shooting it three more times for good measure, he sees Nick crawling over. Blood pooling down his face, wings dragging behind him.

“Sorry I wasn’t fast enough—”

Lark uses his remaining limb to desperately pull him in for a kiss.

OMG GORE ROMANCE COMBO… that is so their brand

[bishop-percival]

@stuckinuniformdevelopment

(prev) Theodore impassively watched Percy’s overblown reactions. Who knows and who cares what any of them meant. All that mattered was that it was good enough. And with that, he could leave. By the time Bishop Percival reached his desk Theodore was already pushing his chair in. He politely nodded at that bastard bishop’s self-congratulatory praise while holding back annoyance stemming from his wounded pride. Theodore slightly increased his pace at the talk of Terry’s fuel. “Glad it’s done with.” Then he perked up when Bishop Percival asked about his plans. It took awhile to respond despite instantaneously coming up with his answer. Or ideal answer, anyway. He had a feeling that nothing was optional when he was locked in. Eventually Theodore turned to humbly lower his head. “As much as I appreciate the honor… A mere acolyte like me isn’t worthy of meeting the great Zyrothe. Especially not when I’ve recently angered a goddess.” Then he straightened up and met his eye. “Besides: I already made plans with my brother.”

Bishop Percival leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers together. “Curious. And here I thought this would be an offer of a lifetime. I wouldn’t be inviting you if you weren’t worthy enough. Anyone is worthy to lay eye on Zyrothe. But!”

He snapped his fingers and the door unlocked. “If hanging out with your bumbling brother takes precedence over worshiping one of The Demonic Greats, then so~ be~ it~! I’ve taken note. Run along now!”

[stuckinuniformdevelopment]

@follwrshep

Shep coughed nervously , wringing his cloak in their hands and glancing at Percival “May we return to our seats yet, dearest Percival? It is cramped up here.”

@bishop-percival

(Previous) Percy, arm still around Shep, leaned in a bit. “That’s not how it works! We have some questions for you! I think I’ll open it up to the audience first.” Immediately after Percy announced that, a few arms in the crowd shot up. And of course, instead of waiting to be called on, they just started shouting their questions over each other. One of them was louder than the rest, though. It was the deacon Lola, who had earned the nickname Blabber. “YES QUESTION SHEP DON’T YOU HAVE A BIG FAT CRUSH ON BISHOP PERCIVAL THOUGH BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU LOVE HIM AND-” She was interrupted when the deacon Autumn, who was sitting next to her, jabbed her with their elbow. “DUH Lola, people can love multiple people at once!” Then Terry, the prison guard acolyte chimed up. “Uuuh then Theodore, do you still love your prisoner fiance? Does she know you’re cheating on her?” The soldier Amy blurted out “Were you not paying attention? Bro can’t handle a long distance relationship. Bro’s touch starved. Bro don’t care about the prisoner chick.” Amy then raised her voice to shout a question. “Bro are you gonna break up with her? If so, then it won’t even be cheating anymore so who cares?” The crowd continued murmuring amongst each other. Percy released Shep to put his hand to his chin and spoke back up. “Seems the crowd is debating the severity of this sin. Do either of you have anything to say to defend yourselves?”

Teddy couldn't help but blush when Amy bluntly spoke about his needs. That's how he should feel about her, isn't it? (Well, aside from not caring.)

After a long pause Teddy managed to calm himself so he could pick out individual voices from the crowd. They didn't seem completely convinced that Shep initiated it. Yet it sounded like this would dispel any doubts about his overblown sins.

Teddy waited for Bishop Percival to speak before kicking the side of the pulpit, hard. For a brief time the crowd was startled into silence and he spoke before they could get over it.

"Why yes Amy," Teddy said as he leaned on the side of the pulpit and rested his arms on it to directly look her in the eye.

"We're confessing a sin that'll be resolved in a few days simply to waste our time and open ourselves up to your annoying probing questions."

Then Teddy smirked at her. "Say, have I ever told you how smart you are?"

Several Glornists snickered at that and he smiled in satisfaction. Any chance to get a jab at one of his least favorite Glornists was a blessing.

Then Teddy glanced at Terry before averting his eye. It was a shame that this plan involved alienating the few normal Glornists.

"As for whether I still love her... well... it's complicated. She has fifty years left of her sixty year sentence. Even if she manages to get released early for good behavior it's so far away that one of us may not live that long."

After a brief pause he said, "We're both in our mid thirties. For reference."

"That doesn't mean I don't want to give up any hope of a life together but..." Teddy clenched his fists as he struggled to maintain a neutral expression.

"I have waited and will wait years before I can give her any more than a chaste kiss in front of creepy guards. Don't I deserve something in the meantime?"

Then Teddy took a deep breath as he prepared to say something particularly cruel.

"So if she didn't want me to be easily swayed she shouldn't have gotten caught." He looked up at the audience while wrapping his arm around Shep's waist.

"What could she possibly do if she finds out anyhow?"

[androgynousgaz]

[xamarart]

sometimes i just like to imagine the season two characters in season one, like really:

normal and hero end up in neverwinter, hero immediately goes into protective big sister mode. normal is treated as a god (doodler mascot) and hero is an acolyte of his.

tower of terry is now tower of scary. her “dad” is the vampire’s amalgamation of everything scary wants her bio dad to be.

for taylor and lincoln i kind of flip flop on the nick and grant arc because i like the idea of them being forced to grow up, but I guess they could keep their dads’ original arcs.

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

I think I might finally have enough material to make a writing masterlist, so here it is: all my fics and headcanons! (They’re also now all tagged as #ray writes. Original, I know). Fandoms include The Owl House, The Dragon Prince, Star Wars Rebels, Rick Riordan’s books, Gravity Falls, The Acolyte, The Lunar Chronicles, and Sanders Sides. You can also find most of my fics on my AO3

The Owl House

Luz and Hunter Bonding

Meeting Papa Titan (Luz’s POV)

Visiting Manny’s Grave

Huntlow Heart-to-Heart

Random Hunter Headcanons

Even More Raine Living in the Owl House Headcanons

More Raine Living in the Owl House Headcanons

Raeda and Nightmares

Raine Living in the Owl House Headcanons

Hexsquad Tradition Headcanons

Amity Headcanons

Stepping Stones Series

Human Realm Headcanons

Lumity Proposal

Eda Discovers Puppet Raine

Hunter and Amity Bond Over Azura

Luz Talks With Camila After Coming Out

Raine and Eda Dance (Written Pre-FTF)

Eda Returns to the Owl House Post-Unity (Written Pre-FTF)

AU Where King’s Tide Had a Satisfying Resolution

Random Hooty Headcanons

.

The Dragon Prince

Callum Comforts Rayla Post-S6

Rayllum Headcanons Between Books 4 and 5

Aftermath of Finnegrin’s Wake

Callum Meets Rayla’s Parents

Callum Struggles With Flying Post-TTM

When Rayla Realized She Liked Callum

Claudia First Meets Terry

Claudia Sees Soren During the Timeskip

Rayla Returns to Katolis During the Timeskip

Aaravos Reflects on His Predicament

Rayla Helps Ezran With Nightmares

Ethari Sees Runaan’s Flower

Callum Visits Ethari

Random Headcanons 2

Random Headcanons

.

Star Wars Rebels

Ezra’s First Night With the Noti

Sabine Begins Wanting Jedi Training

Jacen vs. the Force

Random Headcanons 2

Random Headcanons

Kanera Headcanons

Hera on the One-Year Anniversary of Jedi Night

.

The Acolyte

Pip’s POV

Episode 8 Epilogue

Yord’s Trials

Mother Koril’s Story

Alternate Version of Episode 5

.

Riordanverse

Solangelo and Star Wars

Random Headcanons

Apollo Cabin Headcanons

.

Gravity Falls

Wendy’s Friendship With the Twins

Pacifica’s Relationships After Weirdmageddon

.

The Lunar Chronicles

Cinder’s Dynamic with Winter and Jacin

.

Sanders Sides

Cooking Headcanons

[terrence-silver]

"I found freedom losing all hope was freedom" with Vietnam twig or old terry please! Love your work!!🥰

---

Everyone trained like this --- those select few chosen ones.

But on them, him and John, the routine was excessively hard deliberately.

Climbing the remote slopes of Jirisan at 1915m. above ground come early dawn, they were burdened with the load of their equipment strapped to their backs in makeshift burlap sacks serving as rucksacks. Inside them, weights. Gi's. Rope. Only one canteen of water each, basic medicine to treat any unexpected injuries --- it was much like their time in Vietnam and the military years prior with the sole exception that they were now in possession of a dictionary of Korean. Master Kim Sun-Yung made it very clear right from the get-go; to learn a Korean style of fighting it was imperative to learn the native language first and immerse oneself fully because English wasn't a tongue he desired to speak in his own country or anywhere else if he could help it. Show the dedication and the respect needed to earn the rank of a disciple and a true acolyte of the arts is what they had to do. He had no intention to give his time of day to a pair of two Americans, regardless if he formerly taught their commanding officer, if it meant they could only communicate with basic stuttering and half-baked phrases, like dogs. He wanted the real thing. Demanded it. They didn't have to like him, but they had to show grit. Those were the rules and the price of admission for his classes and lessons. His isolated, ancient family compound and dojang on one of the forested, hidden peaks; the only way on and off was to climb and make the effort of showing how badly they wanted to be taught and what they were willing to do to get to that privileged position.

So, climb they did.

Across the Spine of the peninsula.

In rain.

In mist.

Scorching heat.

The crisp first snows of winter.

When they needed provisions, because nobody would give it to them.

Terry going first and John following suit, watching over him, attached to the same rope, grabbing unto steep jagged rocks and cold stone slabs with gloved hands, skillfully avoiding tangled tree-roots and the occasional loose pebble there to throw off their rhythm. In the beginning, his nails used to tear off and bleed until they painfully blackened and grew anew, taking with the flesh and blood, marred by frostbite and the pain, bandages sticking into his wounds and chafing into the meat --- his grip still infuriatingly and uncharacteristically gentle, even after 'Nam. After a while, the skin there hardened and his fingers became calloused --- iron instead of glass. Somehow larger. Like he grew overnight on willpower and effort alone. The soles of his feet no longer blistered, the calves on his legs on longer in agony and burning --- the idea of hurt more of a vague background concept and after-taught rather than a hinderance. It is like the climb itself and the exposure to nature's elements was a form of training there to prepare them to break concrete training dummies, bricks and blocks. There was no pain in this dojang. No 'ow'. No 'it hurts'. Terry never lets Johnny see in how much physical struggle he was in either. Wanted to make him proud. Show him how much he's advanced since that scared kid in 'Nam. During the night, though, as they camp out on the mountain tops, taking a break before counting on foot, Terry is overtaken by the sheer ache and he lays on his side in a makeshift tent, gritted teeth, wishing he could rip the bones out of his body and throw them off the cliff, slithering around like a snake instead.

The pain is to be transformative, he reminds himself.

As will be this loss of hope. They will be an investment.

He will attain a new sense of self through them.

He will attain strength. Ultimate mastery.

The assurance he will never be caged again.

Freedom.

But, he must pay with a piece of himself first; nothing was for free.

[smalltownfae]

Title: Small Gods

Author: Terry Pratchett

Pages: 398

Rating: 4/5

This is a comedic (and emotional) adventure story about religion, philosophy and politics. I really appreciated the distinction between having a good memory and being smart too.

In this book we mainly follow the Great God Om, currently in the form of a tortoise, and his only believer, Brutha, an acolyte with an extraordinary memory. Gods need people to believe in them so that they can keep existing and that is Om's main objective. Meanwhile, Vorbis, the Head of the Omnian Quisition has his own plans and he needs to use Brutha to achieve his goals.

It took me a while to get invested in this story because I missed the usual Discworld main characters that I know and love, but Brutha and Om started to grow on me and Vorbis was fascinating. I also really liked the philosopher Didactylos (obviously Diogenes) and he has one of my favourite moments, which is the following:

'You are blind?' 'Only as far as vision is concerned, my lord.'

I don't consider this to be the funniest book in the series and it didn't have the emotional impact that "Hogfather" or "Carpe Jugulum" had on me, but I can see why it's a favourite for so many Discworld fans. I can see someone that is very into religion, mythology and philosophy having a lot of fun catching all of the references in this story.

The plot point about the slaves was odd and uncomfortable to read because in this world they wanted to remain slaves. The way all of that was presented didn't sit well with me. Fortunately, it was a very very small part of the story.

I really enjoyed pages 100 to 244, but after that the book went on for too long for my liking and the themes got a bit repetitive. This is an issue I usually have with the earlier works in the series in general and I would say that most of the books that came after got better, from the ones I have read. I wouldn't say that the one that follows in chronological order, "Lord and Ladies", is better than this one, but I think "Men at Arms" is.