#Discover the Treasure Within || Verses

[noneatnonedotcom]

fuck it lets do a cross over with buffy for the hell of it.

i'll be using the jumpchain for percy jackson for this one.

tldr: perrcy jackson is part of the redoran verse and follows the demigod son of posidon. the children of demi-gods are pursued by monsters who hunt them for their godly scent and seek to eat them.

rolling 1d3 to see which of the original buffy teens will be getting the demigod treatment

3

that's xander again, fitting with his name and all. okay rolling for divine parents.

rolling 1d12 = 5 Aphrodite alright, powers include beauty, a less noticeable scent in most cases and an understanding of fashion, potentially the ability to channel the power of love and to charm speak depending on how much his godly mother loved him. they also have a sense of people, trade offs are adhd and dyslexia. but superhuman physical abilities are a pretty good tradeoff.

being a demigod costs 100 of our 1000 points. leaving us with 900

age when xander discovered his godly abilities? 1d10+5 =10 xander was particularly young when his powers manifested. meaning by the time he meets buffy he's had 5 to six years of active combat experience and training.

surely being a demigod of aphroditie will have no disastrous consequences for his love life!

perks

Camp Training (100CP, Free Camper): Ah yes, Demigod Training. Tell me, what did you like the most? The smores? The sword lessons? The climb up the rock wall spewing literal lava down at you? Ah, but I digress. You have the experience behind you of several years at either Camp Half-Blood or Camp Jupiter (or one really good summer, if you’re a new recruit) along with all the necessary skills to survive as a demigod. While many people tend to discount this, you’ll never know when those knife lessons or knowledge on the activation of an Iris message will end up saving your butt in the long term.

xander by the time buffy comes to town would have had five or six years of training at camp half blood.

May You Live in Interesting Times (200CP, Discount Camper): While normally a curse, this is certainly something for an aspiring adventurer such as yourself. It seems that Fate has taken a liking to you, and as such is all too willing to send you on your own adventures. One week you might find that your gym teacher is actually a giant reptile, the next you’re train surfing across the country to retrieve a stolen treasure. While these quests (note the lack of capital Q) are often dangerous, they also offer an increased amount of growth in both the physical and mental sense. Of course, if you’d prefer some time to relax, you can toggle this on and off as you’d please.

Chosen Child (600CP, Discount Camper): There are heroes, and then there are Heroes. For there are so many people here in these camps that purport themselves, but how many truly live up to the name? It seems that you can consider yourself among their ranks, at least. Aside from being a naturally more powerful example of your lineage, with your newly discovered abilities being manipulated as though you’ve been using them for years, your abilities will be far less tiring in general due to your high affinity towards them.

In addition, you’ll also find yourself obtaining many blessings and gifts as your journey progresses, up to and including boons from the gods themselves.

Only time will tell what great exploits you will carve into this world, as you continue on your journey.

Xander was chosen to protect the hell mouth and prevent it from spreading his mother thus sought to give him the best defense against the dangers and made him better able to grow from them.

drawbacks

+200CP Monster Bait: You know the whole thing about how Demigods have a Scent that Monsters track to kill them? Well, you have the same thing, only enhanced.

Any monster within a ten mile radius instantly will be able to tell where you are, which is exacerbated even further when using any technology more complex than a flip-phone.

This still applies to Mortals and Monsters, in which case you’ll still have the scent with Monsters having some sort of justification to target you specifically when hunting you down.

+200CP Daddy/Mommy Issues: Nobody’s family is perfect, but a demigod’s family life is guaranteed to always at least be mildly uncomfortable.

You, however? It’s an absolute trainwreck. Whether due to abandonment issues, absolutely disgusting step parents or a distant father/mother, you’ll be working out these issues for at least a majority of the time spent here if you want any peace of mind at home.

+300CP Godly Paramour: Uh oh, seems that somebody has the hots for you. Who’s that somebody? Well, it’s a literally God of either the Greek or Roman pantheon. Unfortunately for you, accepting their feelings and reciprocating means that your chain ends, so that can’t be allowed to happen.

Keep in mind that Gods tend to not understand the concept of consent, nor do many of them take rejection in stride, so expect many curses sent your way if you cannot handle the situation correctly, in a similar vein to Godly Scorn yet somehow heightened further in their attempts to claim you as their own.

Should you manage to keep yourself from the God’s clutches until your ten years are up you may take them with you as a companion, at which point you’ll be free to do whatever you wish with each other.

gear:

Divine Implement (600CP, Discount Camper): While every Demigod needs a trusty weapon, this goes beyond such things. Being of the quality that even a God would consider worthy for wielding, it is a completely indestructible weapon of your choice (or armor, if you prefer).

In addition, it has an enchantment of your choose that would be appropriate for a weapon of such strength, such as raining down lightning on your foes or summoning storms with a wave.

If you choose you may also use this option to instead obtain a copy of a currently existing Divine Implement, although there is sure to be confusion if it is witnessed in use.

xander has gained a set of celestial bronze armor enchanted to protect him from even the most dolorous of blows, it has been glamoured to look like what ever outfit he likes to mortals. and will heal his wounds should he get any. mortal wounds can still kill him though and loosing his head ends him immediately.

Monster Killer (100CP, Free Camper): It seems that every demigod needs a gem like this, these days. This “monster killer” is in fact a weapon of your own design (up to and including guns, although it’ll only come with three rounds if you choose so) made of either celestial Bronze or Imperial Gold.

What this means, essentially, is that it is capable of harming Monsters and Gods, however at the same time incapable of harming mortals: attempting to do so will have it slide through effortlessly without any harm being done.

Should the weapon be broken, it will appear within your warehouse in a day, good as new.

his monster slayer is a simple bronze spear, typically he'll have to just use his fists when fighting magic users that aren't monsters.

alright from here I'll start writing out the actual character using all those bits up there so feel free to start here.

so xander harris was born long before the events of percy jackson, meaning at this time there were no children of the big three running around. but the hell mouth was becoming a major problem for the olympians the powers that be acting as a rival pantheon were letting demons run amok and they were loosing worshipers left and right. Aphrodite decided she was going to intervene making not only son but a champion to face down the monsters and demons coming from the hell mouth.

alexander was born to live up to his name, a protector of man kind and slayer of monsters. but this came with costs, his scent was strong even before his powers developed especially for a child of Aphrodite, the lowest of mortal scents would be needed to hide him. thus xander met his step parents. his true father having died leaving the infant to his brother and ensuring his life would be terrible but at least he'd survive.

at ten xander awakened to his powers and was sent away to camp half blood on the other side of the country to train for the summer, that was his last summer of true peace as after that it was time to get to work destroying the forces of evil.

five years later buffy summers came to town.

by this time xander was a seasoned vet who couldn't help but roll his eyes at the melodrama of his friends, keeping his divine heritage secret for fear of negative reactions from his friends xander became known as the goofy danger magnet as it seemed to be a toss up on whether the monsters wanted to hunt him or buffy, and whether they'd be romantic interests for either instead of enemies.

his secret would be exposed after the hyena incident, his divine half fighting the possession and instead simply sickening him and nearly killing him before buffy managed to reverse the possession saving him.

"you know xander, there are several reactions to being possessed. some would simply die, most would not be able to fight back at all. but never have I heard of someone being sickened like you" giles looked at him over his glasses. "just what are you?"

this would mark a down turn in trust between xander and giles, and until the time of the fight with the master xander would be avoiding spending time with the scooby gang, lest they try and "fix" him.

it was his confrontation of angel to save buffy that the first person in sunnydale would learn that he was a demi-god. mainly because xander overpowered the souled vampire and told him that he would rip his heart out and feed it to him if anything happened to buffy.

xander then revives buffy with cpr as in cannon, and wipes out the remaining big names that the master had in reserve with the help of angel. though his celestial bronze did the heavy lifting.

xander of this au is marked by his fatal flaw, love. xander falls easily and hard, working to protect the people close to him and having a reputation as an incorrigible flirt. his straight d average is something that he struggles to maintain in this world though and his lack of free time means that he's got nothing tying him to the world besides willow before buffy shows up and he has someone to share the burden of destiny with. in the episode where he has the love spell cast on him though instead it was his mother's poor reaction to her favored son's rejection on what should have been HER day. as a result she inflicts love upon all the women of sunnydale so that her boy can have his pick of the litter.

xander is the exact opposite of angel in this au, a seasoned vet who is irreverent in the face of the darkness he faces and is always ready with the quick quip when facing easier foes, but who has over five years of divine combat under his belt on a hell mouth. he's easily agitated and emotional but has an over the top confidence that people are drawn too.

@heliosthegriffin @howlingday @weatherman667

how do you think i did? what would you change about the character and timeline? i tried to leave as much as a could up to the roll of a dice and then fill in the blanks with narrative.

also what god do you think should be after Xander?

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for January 9, 2025

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 2:1-5(KJV): 1 My son, if thou wilt receive my words, and hide my commandments with thee; 2 So that thou incline thine ear unto wisdom, and apply thine heart to understanding; 3 Yea, if thou criest after knowledge, and liftest up thy voice for understanding; 4 If thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasures; 5 Then shalt thou understand the fear of the LORD, and find the knowledge of God.

Thought for the Day

Verses 1-3 - If we desire to understand the "fear of the Lord," and discover a little of what He knows, we must do certain things; the most important of which is to receive God's words and act on them, by making Bible study an important part of our lives. As we study His Word and ask Him for understanding, it will come alive to us. Often while I am reading Scripture, the words suddenly seem to leap off the page and into my heart. Other times, I read a portion repeatedly without understanding, and ask the Lord to show me what it means. In this way, I am "lifting up my voice for understanding." Later, while reading that same passage, I suddenly understand it. Often the Holy Spirit brings to mind another verse that sheds light on it. Whenever God grants me understanding, I find that just knowing His Word is not enough; I must also obey it.

Verses 4-5 - If we seek knowledge from God as if searching for silver or hidden treasures, we will find it. Searching for treasure requires one to: -Inquire where the treasure might be found -Find a map to help in the search -Gather tools for digging -Find the right people to help in the search -Dig!

I think we can see the spiritual application. We must realize that the Bible cannot be read as a common novel. It is a holy book granted to mankind, inspired by the Holy Spirit. It cannot be read with simply our natural eyes, nor studied with intellect alone. We must bring our hearts to God and ask Him to enlighten us; to give us spiritual ears to hear what He is saying. If we earnestly seek the Book's treasures in this way, we shall indeed find truth and gems of knowledge, like UN-mined gold within its pages.

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Dear Lord, I come to You in the name of Jesus and thank you for giving me the Bible, your wonderful book, that is not only full of Your knowledge and wisdom, but is Your love letter to mankind. All through this book is the plan of redemption. You show us how we, as mortals, can find a loving God who gave Jesus, His Son to die for us and redeem us from our sin and destruction. I am thankful that my name is written in the Book of Life. Lord, help me today to be a caring and loving person that reaches out to share the Bible's message with others. Give me understanding as I read the Bible, but most of all, give me the grace to obey the things that You have revealed to me in Your Word. Amen. From: Steven P. Miller, Jacksonville Florida USA @ParkermillerQ, gatekeeperwatchman.org , TM, ‎Founder and Administrator of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups. #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #SPARKERMILLER Wednesday, January 8, 2025, Jacksonville, Florida USA

[pianokantzart]

I lied. You get THREE chapters of my original story (about 4k words under the cut):

Chapter 1.

Once upon a time there was an old couple that lived in a cottage on the furthest edge of their isolated village within a stones throw of an ancient forest. Behind their home they grew a patch of cabbages they gathered and sold in the fall, and in their front yard they tended a garden of flowers that they cut and sold in the spring. To make ends meet Escrit, the man of the house, worked as a woodcarver while his wife, Realia, worked as a seamstress, spending many an hour repairing, patching, and embroidering whatever was handed to her. When time allowed Escrit and Realia combined their talents to create the most beautiful little toys; for they were without child, and had longed for one since the day they were wed.

Dollhouses, rocking horses, pull toys, tiny sailboats, wooden soldiers, and all sorts of lovingly crafted treasures were stacked high in an unused bedroom, kept clean and carefully dusted in ever-present hope. Many visitors observed the toys with great admiration, sometimes wishing to buy them, but the old couple were loath to part with their creations. Only at Christmas did they make an exception, when they handed out toys to the poorer village children.

As time wore on, Realia took up the habit of placing dolls they made in the window sill, each dressed in their most beautiful gowns so that passersby may note her sewing skills and commission her. One morning Realia awoke to find one of the little dolls robbed of a pretty yellow sundress, and upon examining the doll she was surprised to discover a lovely scarlet ribbon had been tied around her golden hair of straw. 

Confused, but pleased to be in possession of such a pretty little ribbon in such a rare and vibrant color, the old woman redressed the doll and placed it back on the window sill while dropping the glittering gift in her own pocket. The next morning two more dolls were stripped of their clothes, one with a silver chain around their wrist while the other bore miniature golden rings on each of her fingers.

Realia went to Escrit with the gifts in hand. She explained the situation and asked for his thoughts on the matter, for he was a man of the woods, well versed in many strange things.

“No doubt something from the forest has taken a liking to your sewing,” he said, lifting the little crimson ribbon in his calloused fingers, “But I suspect they’re friendly if they pay you out of their own volition. Keep an eye on what dresses they like and try to tailor their tastes. I will leave food upon the table to let them know they are welcome.”

And so Realia stayed up a little later each night, sewing dresses to replace every one that went missing while the woodcarver left little meals in the kitchen. She learned that the mysterious visitors preferred dresses of bright colors, loose and flowing, never touching anything in shades of grey or brown, nor anything with tight corsets or buttoned collars. Meanwhile, Escrit discovered that while buttered toast and cups of brandy were only lightly nibbled or sipped, saucers of thick cream and berries were eagerly devoured. Honey proved to be a favorite, and whenever he could get ahold of it he put a little dollop on whatever morsels he left out. 

Little bits of treasure continued to show up on the dolls, while household luck took a turn for the better. The cupboard moths and mice disappeared, and the slugs that they had struggled to keep off their garden seemed to all at once lose their taste for cabbage and violets. All the flowers they had seeded bloomed more vibrantly than ever before, and costumers wondered aloud what rich, dark soil laid beneath their cottage to create such incredible colors.

One fair evening, when the moon was full and a bout of warm weather allowed the old couple to leave their window shutters wide open, Escrit stood in the kitchen pouring a fresh dish of cream while his wife sat in the rocking chair by the fireplace, adding the final stitches to a doll’s pea green apron dress. Suddenly, a great flock of magpies soared in from the open window, carrying behind them a float of bluebells and gardenias upon which sat a beautiful fae. Her grand wings, the points of her ears, and the slight lilt to her eyes gave little doubt to her species, but she was far larger than any fae either of them had ever heard of, standing as tall as a two year old child despite being a grown woman in face and figure.

“Ah! The dressmakers!” The fae declared as her chariot slowed to a halt. She sprung to her feet, and the old couple looked upon her in wide-eyed wonder.

“Who are you?” Escrit asked at length. The fae let out a jolly laugh, laying a pearl-white hand upon her chest. “Me? Me!? Why, I am the queen of the fae! And I suggest you kneel and ask forgiveness for asking stupid questions, before I call upon the birds to pluck out your eyes!”

Despite the violence of the threat, her tone was so jovial that it was hard to tell if she was being sincere. Escrit and his wife knelt anyway, for the suggestion of a royal was rarely something to be disregarded. 

“A thousand pardons,” Realia said with an extra bow of her head, “we just never expected our humble home to be blessed with the presence of a queen.”

“Well you should have! I had no choice, given you continue to make nothing that fits my size.” The fae queen stomped a little bare foot upon the floorboards. “It is not fair! All of my subjects keep appearing before me in adorable little dresses, and yet I have none for myself!”

And so it was. Beneath her little crown of daisies, a gown of chestnut leaves and bluestem grass clung precariously to her body by spiderweb seams. The whole attire– thrown together for sake of formality – was already on the verge of falling apart.

“We never before needed clothes, so none of us know a thing about sewing.” The fae queen explained, “But the moment your dresses were spotted in the window and carried to the fen, my subjects couldn’t talk about anything else, and yet I alone could not have any part of their fun!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t intend for you to feel neglected.” The old seamstress apologized, “I could make something your size if you wish. Just tell me what sort of dress you would like, and I will get to work right away.”

The Fae queen smiled wide, her giant blue eyes shimmering until they almost glowed.

“Oh! My dress must be elegant, yet grandiose! With a long train and a tall collar!” She declared, “It must be a purple so deep that it makes the cornflowers look grey! It must be stitched and embroidered with thread of pure silver, so I may shine as bright as the stars!”

Realia was silent for a moment. She wrung her hands, then spoke again.

“Begging your pardon, your majesty. I would like nothing more than to make you a gown so beautiful, but the only ones who can create purple cloth are the royal dressmakers, and I doubt they would sell the dye to a commoner. Moreover, I have never heard of a workable thread made of pure silver, I don’t even begin to know where to get it or how one would make it!”

But the fairy queen would hear none of it. Giving another stomp, she cried out.

“It must be! It must be! I must have the entire forest enchanted by the beauty, wealth, and purity, represented by my gown. Since it is the beginning of May, I’ll give you until the end of September. Finish by then, and I will happily grant you any wish your heart desires!”

At this, the woodcutter and his wife looked at each other with knowing eyes, silently agreeing on the same desire that had plagued their every waking moment since the day they wed.

“If your are certain you can grant any wish,” Escrit began, “My wife and I have been trying for a child for some time–”

“Oh, that old ask!” The fae queen interrupted with a giggle, waving her hand dismissively. “Yes yes. If you make the dress to my liking, you will have your baby.” 

So it was done. Realia took the fae queen’s measurements while her husband fed the royal magpies from sacks of barley grain. Then, the queen left the way she came in a flutter of sparks, so sudden that the couple may have thought it nothing but a dream had it not been for the piles of petals and feathers she had left on the floor in her wake.

Chapter 2.

When morning broke the next day Escrit dressed in his sturdiest clothes, packed a sack of supplies, gave Realiah a kiss, and set off on his journey with many tears and goodbyes between them. He moved Northward at a hurried pace, and when the sunset fell he set up camp at the roadside and slept deeply until the next day. At dawn he took to the road with an aching back, but marched on through the forest that only grew denser by the time night fell again. On the third day he marched along with a growing homesickness. He spoke with whatever animal crossed his path in hopes of finding company– but the squirrels and sparrows that happened his way dared not linger long at the roadside, bidding him farewell as soon as he said “hello.” At length, Escrit was greatly pleased to come across the lone figure of a man just off the path, gathering firewood in a grassy clearing. “Hello!” Escrit hailed, “How much further to the next town?” 

The stranger stood up and turned to face him. The man was dressed in a robe of goat’s hair, and bore a long untrimmed beard that hung down to his waist. He placed a finger against his lips, signaling his unwillingness to speak, but signed a blessing over Escrit as he walked past. Escrit quickly recognized the man as a hermit, and though it was a great disappointment he dared not talk to him further in honor of his vow of silence.

Later on, Escrit considered the brief glimpse of human life, and decided to veer off of the winding path and forge straight north through the trees, hoping to reconnect to the path further along. But the dense forest was nothing like the open oaks that surrounded his little cottage at home, and the hostile brambles both slowed his steps and twisted him around in all directions. By the time the sun was starting to set Escrit was hopelessly lost.

Forlorn, he sat down upon a fallen log, placed his head in his hands, and wondered what to do.

“You best getta’ move on old one!” Chittered a voice from the canopy. Escrit looked up to see a barn swallow in a nearby tree. “Night’s gettin’ on.” The swallow called, “You best head back to your home before the wolves come ‘round.”

“I would if that were possible.” The Woodcarver admitted, “For the past three nights I have camped by the road where the wolves rarely venture, but I left the path some time back. Now I have no option but to find a safe place to hide myself away until morning.”

The barn swallow curiously cocked her little head.

“Poor, silly man.” She tittered “What took ya’ down that long road to begin with?”

“My wife has been commissioned by the fae queen to make her a dress.” Escrit explained, “Her highness wants a gown of purple fabric, sewn and embroidered with silver thread. There are no such materials where I live, so I am traveling to the capital in hopes of finding everything she needs.”

“Hmm, well, I don’t know anythin’ about fabrics.” The swallow admitted, “but I have nested in the porch ceilin’ of an old hut, and in the window I happen to spot the homeowner spinnin’ silver into spools of thread.”

With that, the barn swallow leapt from its perch and flitted from bow to bow, heading deeper into the woods. “Follow me, traveler, seein’ as I’m heading home anyways,” it called over its shoulder. “That hut should at least serve as a shelter from the wolves.”

Escrit plucked up his pack and hurried after the bird. He weaved through undergrowth, the barn swallow pausing every few moments to allow the old man to catch up until the two broke from the line of trees into a clearing beneath a broad orange sky, where a rickety gate surrounded a swath of land, and at its center sat the promised thatch hut with a jagged, smoking chimney stretching up toward the sky. The barn swallow chirped proudly, then darted forward out of sight to return to her nest. The Woodcarver carefully creaked the gate open. He tiptoed along, wishing to call out to the homeowner, but an innate fear gripped his heart and held his tongue with each new oddity he spied. Every tree within the fence-line was long dead and all covered in frowning poppets, held to the bark by headless pins. The only signs of life were the henbane, hogweed, and nightshade that grew in wild clumps along the path toward the hut, and the black beetles that scuttled about until a wicked cackle rang through the air, followed by a wind that smelled of sulfur and rot. Nearly knocked off of his feet, Escrit looked skyward as a witch rode through the air atop a broomstick. He turned and tried to run, but the enchanted broom overtook him with the speed of lightning, a bony hand plucked him by the shirt collar with a grip of iron, and he was carried through the air and hung up on a long, black tree branch. “Who goes? The devil knows!” The Witch laughed as she dismounted, tickled by the sight of her dangling captive. She sniffed the air with a needly nose, and grimaced a mouth of corn-yellow teeth. “It is neither little boy, nor little girl, but an old man! What good does he serve except as a bit of meat to add to a cooking pot!”

Escrit shook in terror, writhing in his effort to free himself from the tree branch. “Please don’t eat me!” He pled, “I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I am a skilled woodcarver. I will gladly build you whatever you like if you will only spare my life.”

The Witch examined The Woodcarver up and down, her hungry expression pinching into one of thought.

“Ah, then providence brings you to my doorstep!” she said. “Count yourself lucky that your talents are specific to my wishes, or I would make a broth of your bones.” The witch clapped her hands. The branch that held The Woodcarver snapped, dropping him to the ground. Before he could recover himself The Witch took his arm with the speed of a spirit and wrapped a length of thistles around his wrist. The moment the plant’s thorns dug into his skin The Woodcarver felt himself shrink. His teeth shifted and grew, the hair of his body thickened and spread, and next he knew he was no longer a woodcarver at all, but a scraggly beaver.

“What is this?” Escrit asked, looking himself over with wide eyes. “What good can I be to you as a beaver?” The Witch didn’t answer at first. She grabbed him by his tail and lifted him from the ground, staring into his face with flashing eyes as she spoke an enchantment:

“I am Dirga of the deep dark wood. I spare no bed, I share no food. While the sun still lights the day, you may wander where you may to dig and forage, hunt and feast– the same as any wild beast. But when darkness falls across the land, you’ll once again become a man and if you still roam about at night, or if you dare speak of your plight your flesh of thorns will round you rend, to halt your heart and mark your end.”

As she spoke the final line, The Witch ran a long yellow fingernail over the enchanted thistles still clinging to The Beaver’s wrist, marking her threat.

Dirga carried Escrit to a rickety shed behind her hut, and flung the door open. In one corner was a large table bearing a whittling knife, a chisel, and an old oil lamp. In the opposite corner was a large pile of little wooden statuettes, all shoddily carved and barely comprehensible, bearing strange shapes with long snouts and spiny tails. Before Escrit could question the strange carvings, The Witch asked a question of her own as she tossed the beaver carelessly onto a pile of ash-wood trimmings and sawdust.

“Have you ever seen a dragon?” Escrit shook his furry little head as he collected himself. “No. Never.”

“There is a dragon who reigns at the eastern bay who I wish to seize by force.” Dirga continued, “There are many a man I can control with a simple cloth doll, but dragons are a far different breed that require a perfect recreation. To control one would be a power most sublime! So carve me a statue in the dragon’s likeness, and if it works as my poppet I shall remove my thistles and set you free.”

“But I know nothing about either dragons or poppets!” Escrit pled. “This is the price of your life. Take it or leave it. You have until the end of the month to please me, or I dine on Boiled Acorns and Beaver Tail.” With that, the final thread of golden light disappeared over the horizon, and The Woodcarver felt his bones stretch and his fur shrink as he returned to his human form. Dirga did not need to even glance back to ensure her charms worked, but simply slipped out of the shed and locked the door behind her, leaving the old man to his tools.

Chapter. 3

By night The Woodcarver kept to the rickety shed, squinting in the light of the oil lamp as he carefully carved away at blocks of ash wood, trying to piece together a dragon’s image from childhood tales and the vague songs of passing minstrels. Whenever he declared a carving finished, Dirga would tie one of her thistles around its neck and stare eagerly into the dragon’s face with her beady black eyes. The results were never to her liking. Every failed carving caused her to fly into violent rage, spitting and screeching as she bashed the wooden dragon into splinters.

“And what if, by some miracle, I succeed in recreating the beast?” Escrit asked himself as he returned to the shed, sitting back down upon his heap of wood shavings and starting over again, “Even if The Witch keeps her word, how could I contend with granting that wicked woman dominion over a dragon?”

The sunlit hours were far kinder to him, even though he was a beaver all throughout. He often wandered to a nearby brook where clovers and crabapples grew, and his mind always returned home. He often worried about how his wife fared, and the idea of her waiting endlessly at the window of their old cottage inspired him to persevere as he inquired with the other animals about what all they knew about the dragon that resided at the eastern bay. The Crow said it flew through the air on great leathery wings. The Mole said that it dug through rock and slithered across the ground on its belly. The Porcupine said it was spiny and stout. The Water Rat said it was smooth and scrawny. The Rabbit shuddered and ran to its burrow at the mere mention of dragons, while The Badger tutted and advised all who would listen to turn their minds to more wholesome things. 

“Don’t ya’ mind them.” Called a little voice from the trees, “In these lands, the smartest animal knows less about dragons than the dumbest man.” The Beaver looked up, and there was the barn swallow, pecking at cherries in a tart tree. Amidst his troubles he had nearly forgotten the little bird altogether, and now he wondered whether or not they– being at fault for his current trial– were in cahoots with the witch.

“Little swallow!” He called, “Do you recognize me?”

“I do!” It answered back, “Though ya’ are a good deal smaller and furrier than ya’ were.”

“Then you owe me an apology, if there is enough goodness within you to grant me one.”

“I apologize for your situation, if that counts for anything.” Escrit huffed, “It does not.” “But you are not within the stomach of a wolf, and that is somethin’ to be thankful for.”

“I would rather be the dinner of a wolf than the pawn of a witch.”

The barn swallow let loose a sharp chirp and bounced excitedly upon her branch.

“Careful, careful! Do not speak of your situation, even to one as little as me.” She hushed “Do not forget the nettles!”

So it was, for even as Escrit had begun speaking of his sorrows he felt the pinprick of the thorns creep upward along his arm toward his heart. He held his tongue, and the pain subsided, contented with his obedience.

“Do not die now, you have not yet seen The Witch spin her silver thread!” The Barn Swallow tittered, “Tonight! Tonight! Come to the hut and look inside, but take care not to touch the door, walls, or window frames, for they are enchanted to strike down anything that dares draw near without her bidding.”

Before Escrit could inquire any further, the little bird took a couple of cherries in her beak and disappeared once more into the leafy canopy.

That evening, Escrit returned to The Witch’s yard. Once the sun set and he became human once more, he quietly crept from the woodshed to the glowing window of Dirga’s abode, wondering if he was a fool to dare take the swallow's advice a second time. He kept low to the ground to avoid detection, taking care not to brush against any part of the hut. Looking in he saw a large round room filled with all the trappings of the forbidden arts: bottles, herb bundles, jars of animal parts, and long ropes of thistles hung up to dry. In the center of it all was The Witch at a spinning wheel. Glittering rocks rested upon her lap as she gently tugged at the beautiful silver thread, building upon the bobbin until its starlike glow filled the room. 

But The Witch was not the only member of the household. In one candlelit corner, where a cauldron and a kitchenette sat, a little girl no older than ten swept the floor. Her brown hair and grey clothes were ragged with cinders and sweat, but her little face was bright with an odd cheeriness as she tossed the contents of her dustpan out the door, leaned the broom against the wall, draped a towel over her hands, and pulled a piping hot pie from the oven. She set upon the stovetop to cool, filling the hut with the smell of baked cherries.

Escrit found his gaze fixed the little girl with a far greater curiosity than with the mystical silver thread. As the child waved a towel over the pie to help it cool, she looked up to lock her gaze with Escrit, and before he could duck his head any lower he recognized the little dark brown eyes that glinted like the glass-black gaze of a bird.

Then the rattling of the spinning wheel stopped. Escrit carefully buried himself deep into the prickly branches of the dead bush as The Witch stood up from the spinning wheel, and tied the end of silver thread around her thumb.

“Rekindle the fire in the chimney, child,” she commanded. The girl obediently glided to the fireplace of black stone and began building the flames back up from the smoldering coals.

While she worked, Dirga conducted her spell: she paced her hut three times, pulling the silver thread longer and longer until it was taught against the bobbin. Then she doubled back to her bundles of strange-smelling herbs hanging from the wall, and picked out one tied together with a black ribbon to carry back to the fireplace, now filled with a roaring orange flame.

Dirga threw the bundle on the fire. As it crackled the child lost her blithe cheer, fleeing to the far corner of the room where she crouched down and buried her face in her arms to shield herself from the red smoke that began to fill the room. The Witch chanted a strange incantation as the smoke engulfed her, her voice growing steadily louder and more shrill until a second voice called back from the fireplace, horrifying and incomprehensible. Escrit, sensing the risk he was taking had suddenly crossed over into a world of cosmic peril, backed silently from his hiding place. He crept back to the woodshed, holding his breath for fear of making the slightest sound, only daring to breathe once he was safely closed in amongst the tools and the ash wood. He sat on the floor, jittery and wide-eyed all throughout the night with nothing to comfort him but the murmuring of prayers, and the cold wooden eyes of a half-dozen unfinished dragons.

[vincentsims333]

Immerse yourself in a journey through the inspiring pages of the Bible, where you'll discover a treasure trove of hope and comfort for the weary soul. In its ancient, yet timeless verses, the Bible speaks directly to the heart, offering a compassionate embrace to those weighed down by depression.

Imagine the soothing words of Psalm 34:18, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit", washing over you like a gentle wave, reminding you that you are not alone in your struggles. Envision the powerful reassurance of Deuteronomy 31:8, where it is written, "The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged."

The Bible is not silent on matters of the heart; it echoes with empathy, providing solace to the troubled mind. In the midst of despair, the luminous words of Matthew 11:28 call out, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." This promise beckons you towards a sanctuary of peace, offering a divine hand to lift you from the depths of sorrow.

As you delve deeper into the sacred Scriptures, let the wisdom of Proverbs 12:25, "Anxiety weighs down the heart, but a kind word cheers it up," remind you of the power of compassionate fellowship. And in the raw honesty of the Psalms, find a voice for your own pain and a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, guided by divine love.

Embrace the Bible's teachings as a shining beacon that illuminates the path through darkness, a path that leads to renewed strength and inner tranquility. Rise, emboldened by the knowledge that within these pages, there is a promise for a brighter day ahead. Look upwards, hold fast to your faith, and let the eternal wisdom guide you towards healing and wholeness. You are a cherished child of the universe, and your journey through the valleys is a testament to the unyielding human spirit, ever-reaching toward the light.

[theink-stainedfolk]

Find The Word Tag

Thank you @drchenquill for the tag

I'll be making up random paragraphs from my story Quill & Court because the words given to me matches the story.

My words are: Fame, greed, gold, shine

Fame

In the sprawling metropolis of Wadiyya, fame was a coveted currency, traded among the elite like precious jewels. Within the glittering halls of the royal palace, whispers of ambition and desire echoed through the corridors, as courtiers vied for the king's favor in hopes of ascending to greater heights of renown. Yet, beyond the gilded facade of the capital, fame took on a different guise, sought after by artists and artisans whose creations adorned the city streets. Among them, a humble poet dared to dream of etching his name into the annals of history, weaving verses that spoke to the hearts of all who heard them. But in a world where fame could be both a blessing and a curse, he soon discovered that the true measure of his legacy lay not in the adoration of the masses, but in the sincerity of his words and the depth of his convictions.

Greed

In the shadows of opulent palaces and bustling markets, greed lurked like a silent predator, ready to ensnare the unwary in its grasp. Behind the façade of camaraderie and camaraderie at court, whispered schemes and clandestine dealings festered, fueled by the insatiable hunger for power and wealth. Within the heart of Wadiyya, amidst the glittering treasures and lavish displays, lay the temptation to grasp for more, to hoard riches and influence without heed for consequence or compassion. Yet, as fortunes rose and fell like the shifting sands of the desert, those consumed by greed found themselves ensnared in a web of their own making, their ambitions ultimately leading to their downfall.

Gold

In the sun-drenched streets of Wadiyya, the allure of gold shimmered like a mirage, tempting even the most steadfast souls with promises of untold riches and boundless opulence. From the gleaming treasures hoarded within the royal vaults to the intricate jewelry adorning the necks of nobles, gold held sway over the hearts and minds of all who walked the city's hallowed boulevards. Yet, amidst the dazzle of wealth and abundance, some discovered that the true value of gold lay not in its luster, but in the joy it could bring to others. For in the giving of alms to the needy or the adornment of sacred temples, the true richness of gold revealed itself, shining not only in its brilliance but also in the compassion and generosity it inspired.

Shine

In the bustling marketplace of Wadiyya, the morning sun cast its golden rays upon the city, illuminating the myriad treasures on display with a radiant shine that seemed to beckon all who passed by. From the polished gems that adorned the jeweler's stalls to the shimmering silks fluttering in the breeze, every corner of the market gleamed with an irresistible allure. Yet, amidst the dazzling spectacle of wealth and opulence, there existed a beauty far more profound – the shine of genuine laughter, the sparkle of heartfelt camaraderie, and the gleam of kindness reflected in the eyes of strangers. For in the heart of Wadiyya, it was not just the treasures that shone brightest, but the intangible moments of connection and joy that illuminated the city like a beacon of hope in the desert.

I'll tag @finickyfelix @willtheweaver @ascotwriting @sshawthorne

Your words are: Serendipity, Ephemeral, Labyrinthine, Radiant

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

by Michael Staton | It goes without saying that the Word of God is a constant guide for all believers. But for those in the position of leadership, even more so. For shepherds of God's people, the Bible provides a sure and steady blueprint for all things in ministry. Most believers treasure favorite portions of Scripture, and many of us treasure none more than the 23rd Psalm. Within these verses, we discover the care with which our Chief Shepherd guides us and find instruction to guide our flocks, whether in our churches, our homes, or both. It is with verse 2 that I would particularly like to encourage you as we learn how the Lord guides His flock…

[chanoyu-to-wa]

Corregenda (2/20).

Dear Followers and Readers,

On the bus ride back from the hospital this afternoon it occurred to me that I had neglected to include a sketch illustrating Jōō's tō-ka [燈華] ("flower of the lamp") arrangement of the kake-tō-dai [掛燈臺]. So, once I arrived at my home, I proceeded to create the necessary sketch, and then went to add it to the post that was published early this morning. While doing that, I noticed that there was a fragment of a footnote that was superseded by another text, but which I failed to notice (I finished writing the post around 1:00 AM this morning, and by that time my eyes are pretty much shot); and so I removed that as well as modifying the text of the sub-note to accommodate the new sketch. These are the "corrections" to which the title of this letter refers.

I was a little surprised that nobody had brought the fragment to my attention (in addition to being incomplete, it also used the number that was assigned to a different footnote), since in the past a note or email would always have been waiting for me when I got to my computer in the morning. This, coupled with the monthly drop in donations that is ongoing makes me feel that nobody is interested in these translations. This is truly unfortunate, because this is the fourth or fifth time that I am translating the Chanoyu hyaku shu [茶湯百首] (Hundred Poems), and every time I discover so much more that is new in the verses -- which is why, once I finished the Nampō Roku, I wanted to return to the Hundred Poems again and retranslate them in light of the complete cycle of teachings that have been translated in this blog. I am not just copying and pasting things from my earlier translation -- indeed, I have not looked at it at all during this process, but am doing everything again directly from the several texts, and incorporating an analysis of the variations in this translation. I remain conflicted regarding my approach: perhaps the best approach (or at least the most historically accurate one) would have been to use Jōō's Matsu-ya manuscript as my teihon [底本] But my reason for not doing so was because the modern collections are not based on that version, but on Hosokawa Sansai's version (written down by him around the middle of the seventeenth century), preserved as what I refer to as the Kyūshū manuscript (which seems to have been the first version to be titled the Rikyū hyaku shu [利休百首], and which is the source of the collections that were preserved by the different branches of the Sen family, in their familial archives). This is the version of the poems that will be most familiar to modern-day practitioners of chanoyu, and so the one that would strike them as somewhat familiar (or at least not controversial). I feel very sad that you, the readers, fail to understand the importance of setting down all that the poems have to offer -- rather than the trivial nonsense that is found in most English translations.

It is precisely when you feel that you "know that already" that you should put aside your preconceptions and look at the poems again (and again, and again) with an empty mind. If you are unable to do that, I can honestly say that you will never be able to make any more progress in your understanding of chanoyu. Your mind is made up, and so it is impossible for you to learn -- to advance -- any further along this path. The Hundred Poems are categorized as dō-ka [道歌], and like the Buddhist writings, it is our job, as students of the Way, to return to them again and again, parsing them out in light of our most recent attainments, so they will lead us deeper into the mysteries of the Way. As someone (I am too foolish to remember who) once said,

"至道無難 唯嫌揀擇"

("this Way we are all treading is not difficult: it only abhors choice and attachment"). If you give up choice and attachment, and approach the poems again with the mind of the beginner, you will uncover the treasure hidden deep within the heart of what seemed to be a stone that you saw by the roadside every day.

Thank you all for your time. I know the times are difficult for everyone, but please, if you can, please contribute to the support of this blog. And please take the time to read it, think about it, and absorb it into your own approach to chanoyu. That is what it is written for. That is its only purpose.

Please have a good day.

Sincerely yours,

Daniel M. Burkus daniel_burkus@yahoo.com

Donations: https://paypal.me/chanoyutowa

[lostwcnderlands]

status -> open to all human/human verse characters 23+! *we do not have to be mutuals to reply!*

setting -> inspired by x && x (basically the plot of the invitation movie). your muse was ~mysteriously~ adopted as a baby && recently reconnected with their long lost (and a bit strange) family. they are invited to a family event for a wedding of some cousin - but when they arrive, everyone is acting oddly, and the owner of the manor (introduced as the best man for their cousin's wedding) starts showing interest in them. before long, they realize that they are the unwilling bride/groom in the wedding, and my muse is a vampire lord who has no intention of letting them go.

my other opens - always accepting responses!

from the top of the winding stair, isaak watching with intrigued eyes as their new spouse-to-be, promised to them at least a century ago, realized that the ornate double doors were locked. just as the patio exit had been. just as their bedroom window had been. just as all the escape routes were. he'd not expected the rouse to be discovered so easily - everyone had fawned over his guest, finally returned to the pit of the beast. isaak wondered now if he'd done too much. was their room too grand - the outfit he'd chosen && laid out for the wedding too telling? or worse, perhaps he'd been betrayed.

perhaps someone had told them of what was to come, only a mere hour away. isaak had wanted everything to be perfect - and now, this complicated things. their treasure finally returned, but so eager to escape?

" you are not getting out of here until we are wed. " he finally spoke, a sigh in his voice, slowly descending down the steps. his suit adorned, something classy && suave, fitting him well, and his fangs showing plainly now there was no reason to hide. a smile stretched over his features; he wondered if it would appear unkind. " i've waited an eternity for you. for this day, this moment... " eyes flashed silver, like little moons trapped within his intense gaze. the smile faded as he crested the bottom step. would they run, would he be forced to chase? " you may as well just accept the fact that you're mine now. "

[justdancekid]

Time for something that only I would care about

The Danceverse Crew as Anime Openings

What I'll be doing is going over each member of The Danceverse Crew and assigning them each anime opening based on vibes and the lyrics that match the character

Sara - Blue Sky Rhapsody from Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid

https://youtu.be/Ku5fgOHy1JY?si=ePsRmFlcGHBm3nWs

Sara has this song because of lines like "Basically, I'm quite unlike myself, but I'm gonna open this new door - I could hear voices on the other side! So c'mon, let's go!" And "No matter the trial, I'm not afraid. We have this magic on our side!" Plus the song is cheery, like Sara

Wanderlust - DOWN BY LAW from Fairy Tail

https://youtu.be/eyTSpr8AOM0?si=4Mnj9jKp7aX5IU7M

I like to see this song as Wanderlust hyping the crew up to stop Night Swan. Especially with lines like "I have faith in our vision for the future" and "No matter what happens, keep your head up" and "We are down by law, just know this, we will never ever run from a fight"

Brezziana - Treasure Pleasure from Baki Hanma

I like to see this as Brezziana motivation to keep on exercising, keep on fighting, keep on moving on no matter the stakes, no matter what people tell her, with lyrics like "No matter where I go, there's no end to it. There's always someone better, I just need to be the best." And "Even when they look down on me, I'll just laugh it off"

Mihaly - Contradiction from the God of High School

Now, I know this song is too high energy for someone like Mihaly, so why is this their song? Simple, because they may have a meek appearance, and they are calm and collective, but don't let that fool you. They're willing to fight anybody who dares to hurt their friends. If anything, this song could serve as their battle song, with them staring down their opponents while saying "I'll be your Contradiction"

Jack Rose - Identity from The Promised Neverland

This song could serve as Jack lamenting his time under Night Swan, and even though those times brought him much despair, he's ready to start moving on and fighting alongside Wandelust and the crew, with lyrics like "I remembered it, I remembered it, the feeling of despair that comes with one blink" and "We'll laugh just a little further from the despair"

Dolores - in case from Godzilla Singular Point

Dolores is a business-oriented person, despite her young age, so it makes sense that her opening would have lines like "There are more things I don't know because it's incomplete" and "It's so patchy, aim for the perfect"

Hadley - Viva Namida from Space Dandy

Hadley is a wannabe player, and he wants you to believe that when you first meet him, like the start of the song with the lyric, "I've forgotten the ways of love 'cause it's been a while", but as you get to know him, his act comes down a little bit, like the second verse "Sometimes sending tears flying with a wild Sha-lalu-la" and "Looking at the stars, it's simple. We're all human!". Then, you'll discover the true reason why he wants a girl. With lines like "Viva tears, it's okay for them to overflow, baby," and "Those tears, will you leave them to me?" He just wants someone to trust him with their emotions.

Talia Sway - Jingo Jungle from Tanya the Evil

Now, Talia could have many an anime opening to describe her, but as to get her as a person, I believe this does it best. It's about as chaotic as you can get, and it describes her fighting style. With lines like "Indulge in your beastly desires" and "Come, sharpen your fangs. Let's see who can kill more!"

Epsilon - Genesis from Dimension W

This opening has a futuristic sound to it, much like Epsilon, plus it could be seen as Epsilon vowing to help the crew any way he could, with lyrics like "I won't let you down, come along with me" and "Certainty is within our grasp, I'm waiting for till the break of dawn"

Liv - JUSTadICE from Black Clover

Liv is the one to not have any special talents but will be the first one to reassure the members that she'll do whatever she can to help the team by any means. It makes sense to have an opening that has lyrics like "I won't laugh at you, I don't have any special talents" and "NO NO NO. We'll wake up at the moment to surpass our limit

Blake - Shadow is the Light from A Certain Scientific Accelerator (Turns out, I've hit the video limit, so I'll post the opening in the reblog)

Blake also vows to help the crew any way he can. It's just his way is more aggressive than the rest, with lines like "As many as my bloody memories" and "I'll destroy everything with this stained hand"

I hope you guys appreciate this, and if you have any other options, I'm willing to listen.

[pyrokineticwarrior]

Main Verse

Name: Devendra "Dev" Yug Age: appears 36 (Oct.24th) FC: Ray.mond Abl.ack Gender: Male Species: Human Features" dark brown hair, bright amber eyes, dark olive tanned complexion Sexuality: Bisexual, leans towards women

About

Devendra "Dev" was born into the warrior clan of the Indus River, a lineage steeped in tales of valor and protection. His early days were shrouded in the legends of his ancestors who had fought against asuras, monsters, and spirits that threatened their people. Dev's mother, a spirited traveling entertainer, found a temporary home in the town of Chanderi when she discovered she was carrying Dev. It was in this town that Dev took his first breath, amidst the bustling streets and the whispers of ancient spirits.

Growing up, Dev was a beacon of light in Chanderi, known for his open heart and unwavering courage. People gravitated towards him, drawn by his bravado and inspired by his constant encouragement to be their best selves. Despite the unnerving mysteries that loomed over the town, Dev remained a pillar of strength and hope, his infectious energy touching the lives of all who crossed his path.

One of Dev's greatest loves was his affinity for dogs; their loyalty and companionship mirrored the values he held dear. Another passion of his was dancing with fire, a skill he honed in the quiet hours of the night, the flames flickering in time with the beat of his heart.

Fate smiled upon Dev when he stumbled upon a hidden gold mine deep within the dark caves of Chanderi. The wealth he unearthed not only secured his future but also provided for his mother, Agni Devi, whose mind was slowly slipping into the clutches of madness. Dev devoted himself to caring for her, his love for her shining brighter than any treasure he had found.

Despite the abundance of positivity that surrounded him, Dev was acutely aware of the encroaching darkness that lurked at the edges of the town. He often pondered the mysteries that haunted Chanderi, questioning why the creatures of the night seemed to be drawn to him specifically.

Driven by a sense of duty and a desire to protect his home, Dev began training others in the art of defense, imparting his skills and knowledge to those willing to learn. As his students grew in prowess, Dev knew it was time to embark on a journey beyond Chanderi, to seek answers to the questions that weighed heavy on his heart.

A warrior's departure was met with both reluctance and blessings from his mother, who, despite her ailing mind, understood the importance of his mission. As Dev set out into the unknown, his spirit ablaze with determination, he carried with him the legacy of his warrior clan and the hope of uncovering the hidden truths.

[christiansorrell]

Play-By-Blog #8: The Isle by Luke Gearing

Welcome to my ongoing play-by-blog of The Isle by Luke Gearing! We are playing this adventure with its original system, The Vanilla Game (adjusted somewhat to fit the format). You can check out the Play-By-Blog Repository to get all caught up if you wish.

How Play-By-Blog works:

I write up the situation, NPCs, and more, just like a DM.

You vote in the poll to help decide the character's course of action.

I roll the dice, resolve actions, and write them up next week.

So on and so forth for the rest of the adventure!

Notation:

[Text in brackets is out-of-character/GM text!] "Non-italicized quotes denote text from the original adventure!" "Italicized quotations denotes NPC dialogue."

Our character: Medon Girou - Magic Cutpurse

Our map: The Isle

[You can use the link's above to find Medon's Character Sheet and map of the Isle. On the map, you are currently at 1.]

Now, back to the adventure!

Like you thought earlier, you aren't above grave robbing and while most of these former monks probably don't have much to speak of in terms of buried treasure, it's worth giving one a look.

You search around for a well-shaped rock and spend the next hour or so digging in the area of the freshest of the graves. Your stomach is growling. The piece of cheese in your pocket is calling to you, but you know it's too small to make much of a difference either way. You'll need to get a fire going and roast up the dead monk's fish tonight. Thinking about your future dinner helps motivate you through the rest of the dig.

You brush the last bits of dirt away corpse (do you call it that if it's just a skeleton?) and try to make sense of the remains. The person was small, a woman you'd guess but you aren't well versed enough to know for sure. Bits of cracked, rotting leather and whispy clothes still hang to the body. You can see the hempen straps of a backpack or satchel as well. It looks like she was dumped in here with belongings and all.

To the side, there's a knife - not one you'd travel with or use for hunting, more like one you'd use to cut your meal at supper. Flecks of dried blood on the rusting blade.

You roll the bones over to one side of the hole and the backpack's top pouch falls open. Inside, you discover a surprising number of items: "A poor short sword, 20 arrows, 50' of silk rope, a grappling hook, 50 hacksilver in mixed coinage, a set of ruby earrings (worth ~500 hs), and a charm of yew wood." The charm is in immaculate condition, as if it was made and cleaned just days ago.

Odd, you think, to find someone buried with so much on them, especially in a monastery - even moreso if this was a woman. The monastery, you know, is all men without a nunnery to speak of, now or ever. The rope and grappling hook stick out in your mind as well, equipment you would have brought if you'd prepared better for your incursion to the isle.

Who was this woman?

In time, you pack your items into the worn, dirty backpack alongside those from the grave and toss the charm into your pocket, alongside the lead figurines. You use the rock to place the dirt back over the top of the grave, being sure not to disturb the nearby cairn. It doesn't look as it once did, but a passerby would need to approach closely before they'd notice the disturbed soil. It will have to do.

You turn back to the rest of the isle, the sea roaring gently at your back.

[The character sheet is updated now to reflect all of the newly acquired items. In order to spend gold (in this case, hacksilver) to gain XP, we'll need to return to the mainland or find a way to live openly and comfortably within the monastery. Cioran will not be back for 29 days.]

[We've got a few bits of loot, some additional equipment and even a few intriguing special items now. I'm excited to see where Medon goes from here. Thanks for reading! - Christian]

[jackiestarsister]

OUAT religion headcanons

The existence and practice of organized religion is pretty ambiguous in Once Upon a Time, and the writers play pretty fast and loose with spiritual themes.

Apparently Christianity is practiced in both the Enchanted Forest, which has bishops and churches, and Storybrooke, which has a convent and a Catholic school. The fact that there is a community of nuns in Storybrooke would necessitate the existence of at least one priest within Storybrooke to minister to them, so there is probably at least one church in the town as well.

I imagine that the Mills, Charming, and Swan-Jones families are not particularly keen on organized religion. They probably have a lot of questions and ambivalence after everything they’ve experienced across the realms. On the one hand, they know the Underworld and the Greek gods are real; on the other hand, so are aspects of Christianity like the Holy Grail.

However, I think Mary Margaret (who wears a cross pendant in the first season) and the nuns have genuine faith, and that the others would learn a little from them, as well as from their own experiences. Plus, Christianity resonates with their strong values of hope, love, grace, forgiveness, and redemption.

So, these are my headcanons:

~ Charming likes the story of David, who not only shares his name, but also was a shepherd who became a prince, faced down a giant, and had to fight a war against the jealous king who first gave him power.

~ Emma recognizes that she is much like baby Moses escaping Pharaoh by being hidden in a basket and baby Jesus escaping Herod's Massacre of the Innocents. She also identifies with Joseph’s abandonment and eventual reunion and reconciliation with his family.

~ Mary Margaret's favorite Bible verse is Hebrews 11:1, "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."

~ Mary Margaret's favorite saint is Margaret of Scotland, who, like her, lost her father, was forced to flee her homeland, had a happy marriage in a land she did not expect to live in, and found her "happy ending" was not what she expected it to be.

~ When Hope is born, Mother Superior makes her family aware of the verse in Hebrews 6:19, "We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure." As a result, anchors become Hope's favorite nautical symbol.

~ Mary Margaret and the nuns introduce Hope to the more mythical/folkloric stories of the Bible.

~ When Emma, Hook, and Hope visit Boston, they discover the Shrine of Our Lady of Good Voyage in the seaport. They end up visiting long enough to attend a Mass. This is Hook's first real exposure to the core beliefs of Christianity. Given his own past, he can't help being moved by what he hears about repentance, forgiveness, and redemption.

~ Hook relates to the parables about a man finding treasure and deciding to sell everything he has in order to obtain them (Matthew 13:44-46). But his favorite verse is Matthew 6:21, "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."

~ Hope discovers VeggieTales while looking for movies about pirates. She loves Jonah and The Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything. Hook finds the concept of singing vegetables utterly bizarre, but he likes the story of Jonah and the idea of a "God of Second Chances." Hope sings the songs so much that he sometimes finds himself humming them. Emma teases them by pointing out that they have, in fact, been to Boston in the fall.

[ninjacat1515]

The Orb in my verse is found by Matias and his Illager mining crew, and at first the supernatural terror is delighted that illagers have discovered it. Silent cackling and rubbing of twisted energy hands, it grins to itself.

"Oh illagers are just as easily corrupted as humans! And most have a nasty streak that I shall enforce and multiply! Overworld is mine, followed by the Nether! This is almost too easy!"

The huge beast of a Pillager and clearly already a leader of some sort, picked the abomination up and looked it over intently. It sensed the wicked mind, the ferocious protective nature, the hatred of humans...this one even ate them! What a diabolical treasure of a mind and soul to crush and mold into its own! The illager was sniffing it now and the Orb puzzled as confusion turned to annoyance. This will was extraordinary and also distracted. Food?? It was an all powerful force and would not be treated with such disrespect. Focusing its influence it concentrated, anger rising.

"What the hell is wrong with you? SUBMIT TO ME YOU BRAINLESS MONSTER!!!"

But it was fighting an uphill battle. Matias had an iron grip on himself and the Orb could not even crack the barrier. He licked it and whacked it upon a rock several times as the horrid presence within had a legendary tantrum no one could hear.

"Hrrmph. Must be a mutated and petrified glow berry."

"A WHAT-"

He tossed it over his shoulder and sent it tumbling into a great chasm where it landed in lava. The illagers packed up their equipment and traveled back up the old tunnel to the surface.

[vincentsims333]

Immerse yourselves, beloved readers, in the unfolding wisdom and divine perspective on timing, as illuminated by the Holy Scriptures. Take a journey through the pages of the Bible and uncover the countless verses that articulate the profound truth of God's impeccable timing. Discover why patience and faith are virtues exalted among believers as they navigate the ebb and flow of life's seasons, all within the grand tapestry of the Almighty's timeline.

The Bible, a treasure trove of spiritual insights, offers a myriad of instances that reassure us of God's sovereign timing. Ecclesiastes 3:1 declares, "To everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven." This verse is just a glimpse into the overarching theme that God dictates the perfect timing for every event in our lives.

In the New Testament, Galatians 4:4 notes, "But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son," pointing to the fulfillment of prophecy at the designated time ordained by God Himself. Indeed, throughout salvation history, the theme of divine timing is indisputable and serves as a testament to God's wisdom and authority over the universe.

Moreover, 2 Peter 3:8-9 offers a perspective on God's concept of time that differs from our own: "But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day." It further reassures us that God's delay is not due to neglect, but rather stems from His mercy, giving individuals the opportunity to come to repentance.

Embrace these biblical passages and many others that depict God's timing as a sacred dance of cosmic synchronization, meant for our ultimate good and orchestrated with unparalleled precision. Indeed, by understanding God’s perfect timing, we learn to trust in His plan, relinquish our own schedules, and walk in harmony with His divine rhythm.

[mightyflamethrower]

FROM TREASURE TROVE TO TREASURE TRUTH: ‘The Parable of the Hidden Treasure’ by Rembrandt

FROM TREASURE TROVE TO TREASURE TRUTH: ‘The Parable of the Hidden Treasure’ by Rembrandt

One of the greatest storytellers in the history of art is Rembrandt Van Rijn. Born in Leiden in Netherlands in 1606, he had a unique, uncompromising, innovative ability to portray reality in various moods. He worked on a range of subject matters including portraits, self portraits, landscapes and genre scenes as well as allegorical, mythological, historical and Biblical themes.

Rembrandt penetrates to the heart of the subject. This is best understood through today’s painting in consideration. The narrative is taken from the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 13, verse 44. It reads: ‘The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field. The man, who finds it, buries it again; and so happy is he that he goes and sells everything he has, so that he may buy that field.’

The painting is divided into two sections; the background and the foreground. The panoramic view of the vast landscape, silhouettes of mountain ranges, barren hills, stark vegetation and a city afar draws us to the figure of a man who gazes beyond the horizon in contemplation and determination. He gapes not at the priceless treasure of ornate antiques laid before him. He has past the point of thrilled elation. Rather he seems to grasp reality with a vivid understanding of THIS IS IT! He has found the hidden treasure he longed for! He resolves to sell everything he has so that he can buy the field.

But is Rembrandt content with portraying just the narrative? Does he want to express something beyond the lens of his brush? The answer lies in the location. The top corner of the painting displays the city gate. This clearly indicates that the field is not situated in the town, but at its outskirts. And the hidden treasure in found not in an excavated hollow rather within the cavern of a little mount.

This strikes the right chord for those who attempt to read between the colourful lines of art and the gospel. Jesus was crucified at Golgotha or Mount Calvary which is located outside the city walls of Jerusalem. Thus the treasure the man discovered is indeed Christ Himself. Besides the shovel of the man lies a bunch of wild acanthus. This affirms that the treasure found is everlasting!

Rembrandt is acclaimed as the master of the clear and obscure, light and shadow. This technique in drawing and painting is called Chiaroscuro. As witnessed here, Rembrandt uses chiaroscuro to display the inner self of the subject. The light of dawn enlightens the willed face, mind and heart of the man. However his figure casts a shadow on the sacks of treasure anticipating encounter. The ones discovered glisten in daylight. Thus the light served not just to emphasize the external reality of space occupied by the subject but rather to reflect on the internal workings of character and the mind.

Art is an edited version of our own experienced reality. The Parable of the Hidden Treasure digs through the reality of the life of Rembrandt. Very interestingly the face of the figure in the painting is debated to be that of Rembrandt himself. Rembrandt faced quite a lot of trauma in his life. Three out of his four children died within months of their birth. His wife perished seven years post their marriage. Gradually he reached a stage of bankruptcy both economically and emotionally. His painting thus shadows his search for the ‘true treasure’.

In conclusion; ‘There is something of Rembrandt in the Gospel or something of the Gospel in Rembrandt, as you like it – it comes to the same,’ if one only understands the thing in the right way’ – Vincent Van Gogh.

Is there something of you in the Gospel?

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

by Michael Staton | It goes without saying that the Word of God is a constant guide for all believers. But for those in the position of leadership, even more so. For shepherds of God's people, the Bible provides a sure and steady blueprint for all things in ministry. Most believers treasure favorite portions of Scripture, and many of us treasure none more than the 23rd Psalm. Within these verses, we discover the care with which our Chief Shepherd guides us and find instruction to guide our flocks, whether in our churches, our homes, or both. It is with verse 2 that I would particularly like to encourage you…