#Glorious Wave Church International

[therecordchanger62279]

11 NEW PLAYLISTS

A few months ago, I did a post with 163 playlists I’d created for my iTunes program. Since then I’ve added 11 more, so I thought it was time for an update. Number of songs on each list follows the title in parentheses.

1969 (131) For some time now, I’ve been wanting to create year-by-year playlists of my favorite singles. I think 1969 was the best year in the history of recorded music, so that seemed a logical place to begin. A Billboard book of Top Chart Hits from this year was indispensable.

1970 (153) More hits from the first year of what was Rock and Pop’s best decade. A Billboard reference book is, again, a must.

Dylan ’75-’76 (74) Bob Dylan’s 1974 tour with The Band seemed to kickstart a renaissance period for him that carried him through 1976. This playlist begins with the January ’75 release of Blood on The Tracks, and follows with The Basement Tapes released in June of that year. The Rolling Thunder Revue live shows from Volume 5 of The Bootleg Series is next, followed by the Desire album released in January ’76, and finishes with the second leg, and final shows with the Rolling Thunder band in Spring of ‘76 captured on the Hard Rain album.

Gram Parsons (90) Gram Parsons influence on Rock is so pervasive that he deserves his own playlist. I don’t have his International Submarine Band recordings. If I get them eventually, they’ll lead off this playlist. Instead, I begin with the original version of The Byrds Sweetheart of the Rodeo album. Parsons joined the band, and took them in a Country direction that had them playing The Grand Ole Opry at one point. But Parsons left the band before the album was issued, and Roger McGuinn wiped Parsons’ lead vocals from the tracks that featured them, and replaced them with his own. But The Byrds boxed set had the originals in it, so I simply reconstructed it, and that’s what I used here. That’s followed with all of Parson’s recordings with The Flying Burrito Brothers. Parsons first solo LP, GP follows that. I used a live album called Fallen Angels Live 1973 next which was done after that album was recorded. Grievous Angel, Parsons’ last album released in 1974 closes his portion of the playlist. You can end it there, but I have a CD titled Return of the Grievous Angel: A Tribute to Gram Parsons that features 13 tracks by musicians who were influenced or worked with Parsons including Emmylou Harris, Chris Hillman, Elvis Costello, Sheryl Crow, and many more. The remaining track belongs to Eagles whose Bernie Leadon wrote a tribute to Parsons released on their 1974 On the Border album titled “My Man.”

I.R.S. (103) Miles Copeland’s legendary I.R.S. Records was a player in the indie label sweepstakes that surfaced during the years of the New Wave in the late 1970s. Among the bands who recorded for or were connected to the label were R.E.M., The Go-Go’s, The Police, English Beat, Lords of the New Church, Spirit, Black Sabbath, Human Switchboard, The Alarm, The Bangles, The Animals, General Public, Timbuk 3, Concrete Blonde, The Fleshtones, dB’s and more. This diversity is one of the label’s trademarks, and makes for a great playlist.

Joan Jett (135) I’ve been a fan of Jett’s since The Runaways days, and I have quite a few of her albums, but I’ve neglected her in recent years, so I thought a playlist was in order. I also used to be in her fan club because the fan club occasionally issued some rarities on CD – which makes this playlist special, and comprehensive. It begins with 9 tracks Jett wrote or co-wrote, and recorded with her first band The Runaways. Following that are some early recordings before she signed with Neil Bogart’s Boardwalk label. These appeared on the fan club release 1979. Next up is Flashback, another rarities collection from the fan club. From there it’s Bad Reputation, I Love Rock ‘N’ Roll, Album, and Glorious Results of a Misspent Youth – all on MCA. Her next album Up Your Alley was her debut for Columbia. Pure and Simple follows that. I used three tracks from the Fetish compilation not available elsewhere, and two more rarities from Fit To Be Tied, a Greatest Hits collection. The playlist closes with her 2006 set, Sinner. That’s 30 years of Joan Jett altogether.

The Rolling Stones ’75-’77 (95) Bob Dylan’s 1974 tour with The Band was one I followed in the pages of Rolling Stone magazine, and that’s where I got the Rock journalism bug. I followed Dylan from then on, and 1975 - ’76 was a great 18 months for Dylan. The memories of that are what lead me to create the Dylan playlist above. But at the same time, The Rolling Stones were prepping for a Tour of the Americas, as they named it. But things didn’t get off to a great start. Guitarist Mick Taylor announced he was quitting the band just weeks before the tour was to begin. The band brought The Faces’ Ronnie Wood in to fill the void, and put off the job of getting a permanent replacement until after the tour. With no new material ready, the band’s label issued Made in The Shade, a 10 track hits collection drawn from their four previous albums. The Stones incorporated most of that record into their live set, and hit the road. In the meantime, Abkco issued a collection of outtakes titled Metamorphosis in an effort to cash in on the tour. So, the new albums competed in the marketplace while the band played on. With a new guitarist aboard, the shows were sloppy, and critics were merciless. They were also ignored. The tour did record business, and when the band got off the road they began the audition process for a new guitarist, and they cut the Black & Blue album after settling on Ron Wood as a permanent member.

     A European tour was booked beginning in Spring of ’76. Love You Live, issued in 1977 drew tracks from both The Tour of Americas, and the European leg in addition to a live set the group played at the El Macombo club in Toronto, Canada. While there, guitarist Keith Richards was busted for drugs, and the band was out of commission until his legal troubles were settled.

     The release of a live set from the Tour of the Americas, and the complete El Macombo set along with Love You Live, and the two studio albums paint the picture of two years in the life of The Rolling Stones from June of ’75 to March of ’77. The playlist brings it all back.

Santana ’72-’73 (23) Caravanserai, Santana’s fourth album released in 1972 marked a new direction for both the band and its namesake. Following the completion of Santana III, Carlos Santana began playing with drummer Buddy Miles for a tour. They released a live album in June of ’72. At the end of that month, the Santana band played a show for the closing of Bill Graham’s Fillmore, after which Carlos Santana began recording with Mahavishnu John McLaughlin. Caranvanserai was released in October, and the Love Devotion & Surrender sessions began in late ’72, and finished in early ’73. That album was released in Spring of ‘73. The live record with Buddy Miles, two tracks from that Fillmore performance, issued on Fillmore: The Last Days, followed by the studio record with McLaughlin track the guitarist’s path, and that’s what on this playlist.

Santana ’73-’74 (44) Picking up from where the last playlist left off, we have the next Santana group album, Welcome. That’s followed by a Japanese tour issued as Lotus which captures two different Santana bands in concert. And to finish 1973, and this playlist we have the studio album Borboletta. By the time Santana would surface again in 1976 with Amigos, the band he’d had would, once again, have new members, and a new sound.

Stiff (57) One of the great indie labels from England’s Punk era, the Stiff catalog is a difficult one to organize. It was primarily a singles label. And collecting the noteworthy ones for a playlist can be daunting. I needed help from Google, and you have to be careful which tracks to use. Elvis Costello, Nick Lowe, and Graham Parker were all on Stiff, but none of them for very long. Ian Dury, Rachel Sweet, Madness and a few others had longer tenures. Dr. Feelgood, The Pogues, Kirsty MacColl, Siouxsie & The Banshees, Ian Gomm, The Adverts, The Damned, and Any Trouble also made noteworthy contributions. Not an easy playlist to compile, but the music is all great, and well worth the effort.

UK Underground (241) After Psychedelia washed Pop away in the UK in the late 60s, there was a period of transition to what became known as Progressive Rock. I named this playlist UK Underground because it chronicles a number of lesser-known bands and labels from what was a very interesting period in the history of British Rock. There are a number of label compilations from the Harvest (A Breath of Fresh Air), Vertigo (Time Machine), Charisma (Refugees), Polydor (Spirit of Joy) and Island (Strangely Strange But Oddly Normal) imprints that, combined with one covering the Ladbroke Grove scene (Cries From The Midnight Circus) along with early tracks from Yes (Yes and Time and a Word), Giles, Giles & Fripp (The Cheerful Insanity of), Pink Floyd (Piper At The Gates of Dawn), and The Moody Blues (selected tracks from Time Traveller), give an excellent overview of a time in British Rock when the landscape was changing. It all fits together well, and nicely covers the years 1968-1974. Bands like Hawkwind, Hatfield & The North, Caravan, Bodast, Tomorrow, Strawbs, and Soft Machine will also add variety and depth.

You can ask Spotify to make you a playlist, but it’s more fun, and makes a better playlist if you do it yourself.

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

🎵 Disco Elysium, Pt 1

"Good morning."

Let's get the smallest things out of the way first.

Protorave

NOID - "Yo, man. What's on your mind?" He drops a bolt into his toolbox.

6. [Conceptualization - Godly 16] Internalize the hard core aesthetic. Don't just nod along, really *feel* it.

+1 Hardened up your ledger. +1 Necktie is on. +1 Analysed the beat. +1 Perikarnassianism is Love.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Godly: Failure] - Aggressive. Monotonous... but also somehow sacral. Primitive, yet futuristic, like a machine man. Nothing exists, but the here and now. All are one, one purpose... All you've managed is a list. The parts don't form a whole.

7. "Take care, Noid." [Leave.]

EGG HEAD - "Good morning, comrade! Yeaaaaaah!" He waves his hand in the air. "Harder core!" The words echo magnificently throughout the nave.

7. [Interfacing - Godly 16] The audio onslaught can be tamed. Connect the dots.

+1 Andre's compression algorithm. +1 Fiddled with some knobs.

INTERFACING [Godly: Success] - SIDE-CHAIN THE BEAT!

*Side-chain*? What does it even mean?

INTERFACING - Listen, you can use the compressor to select between which track it's compressing, either the auxiliary signal or the main input from the tape. Make it alternate between the signals.

The compressor controls the gain based on the level of the signal on the aux side-chain input. It will allow maintaining a loud sound without peaks that fill up all the headspace.

"Okay. Egg, you need to start side-chaining it." (Explain the concept to him.)

EGG HEAD - "Side-chaining it, you said?" He turns down the music, his hands moving deftly across the mixer, setting up the necessary controls...

The music stops.

Then he puts on his headphones and his eyes go wide, wider than they've ever gone on drugs. He starts jumping up and down with bliss, in total silence -- still listening to his headphones.

ACELE - "Hey..." Acele looks up from her microphone. "What did you do to Egg Head, cop-man? Did you *break* him?"

"I'm… not sure."

"Just wait and see." (Nod at Egg Head.)

EGG HEAD - "ARE YOU READY, POSSE?!"

NOID - Noid straightens his back, ready for the beat...

ANDRE - "I was born ready, Egg!"

Give him a thumbs up.

EGG HEAD - The audio assault is glorious. The speedfreak dances on the stage, intensely waving his hand in the air.

"THIS IS BEAUTY, THIS IS LIFE!"

🎵 Ecstatic Vibrations, Totally Transcendent

Task complete: Make van Eyck's jam harder core

+30 XP

ACELE - "What in the world is going on?" Acele looks on, amazed at the display. "The way melody and bass flow together... it's unnatural."

PAIN THRESHOLD [Medium: Success] - Your body is taking a beating from the low frequencies crashing over you. It's making you feel... alive again.

"THIS ONE IS FOR THE ANODIC GENERATION!"

"We have... tamed the sound. Made it our own."

EGG HEAD - "INTRODUCING THE ULTIMATE SOUND!"

"We have... tamed the sound. Made it our own."

ANDRE - "God damn it," you hear Andre say to himself over the thumping beat, "this dance club idea might just work out."

EGG HEAD - "DOLORIAN CHURCH -- THE PLACE TO BE!" Egg's losing himself in the sound. "Pump it, pump it!"

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - This is it... this is a new era. The fabric of the world has been irrevocably altered.

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - Who will be the innocence of hard-core anodic dance music?

7. "Alright. Goodbye, Egg Head." [Leave.]

As you might expect, finding the bassline is going to make it easier to dance. We're not *quite* ready for that yet, though. (Also that will almost certainly have to be another video.)

🎵 Polyhedrons

NOVELTY DICEMAKER - "Oh, it's you again. Are you looking for a die?"

"I came back to pick up my die."

NOVELTY DICEMAKER - "Very good. That will be seven reál for one custom die."

(Give her the money.) "Here you go."

"Actually, I don't have the money on me right now."

NOVELTY DICEMAKER - "One universal die for *Wirrâl Untethered*," the dicemaker opens her desk drawer and hands you a die.

Item Gained: Standard Anti-Wirrâl Die

Task complete: Pick up dice from the Dicemaker

+10 XP

Look at it.

NOVELTY DICEMAKER - It feels icy. Just holding this die in your hand sends a jolt of cold down your spine. Through the dark resin, you can make out a nugget of bone hewn from an alligator's jaw.

2. "Can I order another die?"

NOVELTY DICEMAKER - "I'm sorry. I'm a bit overloaded just now so I can only produce one die per customer."

Thanks anyway, Neha.

6. [Leave.]

STANDARD ANTI-WIRRAL DIE

This standard 24-sided role-playing die can be used to get results for several dice. It's made of alligator jawbone cast in acrylic resin and embellished with frost motifs. Looks like a minuscule blizzard is stuck in there. NOTE! Look at the MAP tab in Journal to see which White Checks have opened.

[mariacallous]

Controversial war-time governor Miklos Horthy is openly admired by the Hungarian far-right as a national hero, though the ruling Fidesz party is walking a finer line between looking for inspiration in his autocratic regime without fully rehabilitating him.

A bronze bust of an elderly man was inaugurated in Hungary’s parliament at the end of August that immediately caused waves in the international media. The statue portrayed Miklos Horthy, Hungary’s governor between 1920-1944, hailed by some as a saviour of the country, but derided by many others for being responsible for the genocide of over 400,000 Hungarian Jews.

Opposition parties and Jewish organisations protested vehemently and demanded the immediate removal of the sculpture.

“The parliament is the symbolic building of the Hungarian nation,” Andras Heisler, president of Hungary’s largest Jewish association Mazsihisz, warned, adding that there should be no place for a statue of a man “who is responsible for the tragic death of hundreds of thousands and who steered our country into one of the biggest disasters in the country's history.”

But parliament’s speaker, Laszlo Kover, an arch-conservative founder of the ruling Fidesz party, airily dismissed the outcry, claiming the bust is not in a “public space” and “MPs can decorate their offices in any way they wish”.

Behind the political stunt was, inevitably, Dora Duro, the deputy chairman of the far-right Mi Hazánk (Our Homeland) party. Duro, who is also one of the deputy speakers of parliament, has form for making such provocative acts: in 2020, she publicly shredded a children’s book that portrayed a gay prince as well as featured other LGBT themes. She has openly campaigned for the “heartbeat law”, a regulation that forces women to listen to the heartbeat of their foetus before deciding on an abortion.

Whatever Duro does often finds resonance in Fidesz. She can take credit, for example, for inspiring the government’s anti-LGBT course and the latest modification to the abortion law. Many wonder, therefore, whether the historical rehabilitation of Horthy and his regime is next in line for the government.

“There is a clear competition between the far-right and Fidesz, and the governing party tries to prevent the radicals from building up their own themes, be it on gender, migration or abortion,” Bulcsu Hunyadi, a political analyst specialising in far-right movements at the Budapest-based think tank Political Capital, tells BIRN.

“For the far-right, Horthy’s figure is central to the myth about a grand and glorious Hungary,” he adds.

Too Horthy to touch

Hungary’s glory is also dear to Viktor Orban’s national-populist government. Yet, so far, it has shied away from glorifying Horthy with a statue in a public space.

In 2015, Prime Minister Orban stated: “the government cannot support the installation of a statue of a politician who cooperated or collaborated with Hungary’s oppressors, no matter what other merits he may have had.” This glossed over the fact that the oppressors he was referring to (Nazi Germany) were actually allies of Hungary.

Even so, there are a growing number of Horthy statues erected by civil organisations like the Miklos Horthy Society or private persons sprouting up on private property around the Hungarian capital.

The best-known is in downtown Budapest, where the stern-faced admiral looks down on passers-by from the stairs of a reformist church. The statue was unveiled by the far-right politician and reformist pastor Lorant Hegedus in 2013 and vandalised by a protester who poured red paint over it in 2020.

Public opinion is split on Horthy.  According to a 2018 poll by Median, 27 per cent believed he was a positive figure but 52 per cent had a negative opinion of the former governor. Still, in 2005, only 22 per cent viewed him favourably. The average Hungarian usually has a fairly limited knowledge of history, but experience shows that with a carefully orchestrated propaganda campaign, historical memory can be easily altered.

“I think in a democratic country, nothing would justify erecting a statue to Horthy,” the renowned historian Ignac Romsics tells BIRN. “We have had a few democratic politicians in our past, but Horthy does not belong to those. Indeed, he was openly anti-democratic.”

But Romsics also stresses that Horthy was not a military dictator like Spain’s Franco or Romania’s Antonescu, and a more nuanced approach is required. “Some argue Horthy was a fascist dictator, others think his conservative regime offered stability and was quite liveable – the truth is somewhere in the middle,” he explains.

The admiral who won and lost everything

Miklos Horthy, a former admiral of Austro-Hungarian Emperor Franz Josef, became governor of Hungary in 1920 at a critical juncture. The country had been shaken to its core by a national trauma: after a lost war, a tragic peace deal had stripped Hungary of two-thirds of its territory and half of its population.

A short-lived, but bloody Communist revolution (1919) further fuelled social unrest. Most of Horthy’s supporters argue that after the turmoil, the admiral managed to stabilise the country, first with an iron fist, brutally killing hundreds, but later on by providing a level of security and stability for those who accepted the rules of the game. It was a limited parliamentary system, regular elections were held, even the media was more or less free, but nothing threatened the rule of the governing elite. Similar in some ways to today’s Hungary under Orban, some observers point out.

Horthy is also hailed for recovering much of the lost territories and Hungarian population that had been lost in the post-World War I settlement, largely at the negotiating table, but with massive help from Nazi Germany and Italy. Alas, these gains were only temporary, as the maps of Central Europe were once again redrawn after WWII.

The far-right party of Mi Hazánk now complains that the current Fidesz government is not doing enough to restore Hungary’s grandeur – although they are not quite clear about how this should be achieved.

Reviving territorial claims against neighbouring countries remains a red line for the Hungarian political elite, including Fidesz. “Any attempt to redraw borders would immediately trigger an alliance of the former ‘petite entente’ against Hungary,” the historian Romsics warns.

But it certainly does not foster good neighbourly relations when Prime Minister Orban is portrayed standing before a large map of Greater Hungary during cabinet meetings.

“Slovaks, Romanians, people of Vojvodina and Transcarpathia have the right to paranoia,” Slovak Foreign Minister Rastislav Kacer recently told the Polish daily Rzeczpospolita. He pointedly remarked how there are no similar maps in the chancelleries of Berlin or Vienna.

Yet most politicians are aware that Horthy’s regime committed horrendous crimes that cannot be excused. The Hungarian parliament was among the first to pass anti-Jewish legislation in Europe, restricting the number of Hungarian Jews at universities, and later in certain professions. Horthy displayed no misgivings about signing these laws.

Daily politics was run by his prime ministers, but as commander-in-chief of the army, in 1941 he opted to join the war on the side of Nazi Germany. “One of his major mistakes,” historian Romsics describes it.

As head of state, Horthy is held responsible for the death of over 300,000 Hungarian troops and for the tragic fate of 430,000 Hungarian Jews, who were put on trains and transported to Nazi-held territories in 1944 and murdered in gas chambers.

Fidesz argues that Hungary lost its sovereignty in March 1944 when German troops occupied the country, but Horthy retained his position until October 1944. He stopped the deportations in July, but by then it was too late for most – Hungary’s Jewish population in the countryside had already been eliminated.

1930s inspiration

Horthy was never held accountable for the atrocities committed during his regime and he died in exile in Estoril, Portugal in 1957. Following Hungary’s democratic transition, he was reburied in his former estate in Kenderes, eastern Hungary, in 1993.

Due to his controversial legacy, there was no state funeral, although some members of the first democratically elected government attended as “private citizens”. Fidesz, still a liberal party at the time, objected heavily.

Things have changed quite a bit since then. In 2017, Orban hailed the former governor as an “extraordinary statesman who rebuilt the country”.

Political analyst Bulcsu Hunyadi says there are many grassroots Fidesz members and supporters who consider Horthy a “grand Hungarian” and the governing party elite do not want to lose them to the extreme right.

“I think a Horthy-renaissance would not bring more voters for Fidesz in Hungary, but Fidesz` would risk a lot internationally – this is why they are still very careful,” Hunyadi says.

In mid-October, a Horthy bas-relief was planned to be inaugurated in Szeged, southern Hungary, in the presence of an MP from the governing party. But as soon as it appeared in the media, the event was cancelled.

Instead of opening their arms to Horthy, Fidesz opts for symbolism. It is not hard to discern how the government is seeking inspiration from the Horthy regime: the redesign and the reconstruction of Kossuth ter, the central place around the parliament, and the renovation of the Castle district are all conspicuous attempts to restore the 1930s, not only in its physical form but also spiritually.

Renaming counties as “castle districts” and government commissioners as “foispan” (a sort of land agent or granger from medieval times, appointed by a monarch) all follow the Horthyesque tradition. Ridiculous as it might seem, all these are now anchored in Hungary’s constitution. Restoring the reputations of conservative politicians and dubious anti-semitic writers of the 1930s are all part of a creeping historical revisionism under Fidesz.

“Orban thinks in a timespan of 20-30 years, which is more or less the length of the Horthy era,” Hunyadi explains. “He needs a symbol, a precedent, and he finds it mostly in the Horthy regime.”

Both regimes are nationalist, conservative, authoritarian, with strong ties to the churches, maintaining some traces of parliamentarism and democracy, like regular elections, but offering little opportunity for real change or an opposition takeover.

The historian Romsics thinks that Fidesz has managed to create a political community behind the party, where identity and emotional attachment are of key importance. “Historical memory is an integral part of this community, and Horthy, who was a staunch nationalist and anti-Communist, is one of those who link them together,” Romsics notes.

Both “regimes” were built on a strong central power, which apparently fits with the needs of today’s society. “I tend to think that without a strong and educated middle class, no real democracy is possible”, he concludes.

[ghlagatindotcom]

You have no right to stop prophets from prophesying on 31st nights, your party will lose this year's election — Badu Kobi fires Akufo-Addo

The leader and founder of Glorious Wave International Church, Prophet Badu Kobi has angrily fired President Akufo-Addo for seizing clergymen from prophesying or making doom prophecies, especially on 31st nights. In a chit-chat with Empress Hifty on ‘U Cook’, Badu Kobi expressed disappointment in president Akufo-Addo, stating that they (clergymen) prophesied to him in 2016 before he became…

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for November 29, 2023 

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 29:8-9 (KJV): 8 Scornful men bring a city into a snare: but wise men turn away wrath. 9 If a wise man contendeth with a foolish man, whether he rage or laugh, there is no rest. Proverbs 29:8-9 (AMP): 8 Scoffers set a city afire (inflaming the minds of the people), but wise men turn away wrath. 9 If a wise man argues with a foolish man, the fool only rages or laughs, and there is no rest.

Thought for the Day

Verse 8 - A scornful person can incite people to take up a grievance will incite more people to take up the grievance and so on. This anger can even lead to the extreme of unruly mobs and anarchy. Scorners also incite contention in churches. One person takes offense at something and complains about it to other people, who then take up the offense and spread it to others. Instead of going to the pastor and praying about the problem, they fall into a snare of Satan and begin stirring up strife. People of wisdom should seek God as to how to neutralize a scorner's inflammatory words. Praying the scripture in faith over these kinds of situations can change and subdue angry crowds through God's power: "… Which stilleth the noise of the seas, the noise of their waves, and the tumult of the people" (Psalm 65:7).

One of the first things we need to know about God is that He is the source of all good things. He loves us. The Scripture says He loved us so much He sent His Son, Jesus, to die for us so that we might have life and have it more abundantly. We should not believe in praising God for tragedies, for sickness, for bad things; yet we should believe in praising Him amid these circumstances. The bad things did not come from God, and we don't want to blame the Lord for something the devil sent. Our God is not the author of sickness, sin, tragedies, sorrow, and heartache. The devil is the one who sends these things and then tries to get us to blame them on the Lord. God is on our side, and when we begin blaming God and murmuring against Him, we have fallen into the devil's trap. We invite the “destroyer” into our lives when we yield to the devil's temptation to accuse God of our troubles. This was the source of Job's problems until he saw the light and repented for uttering things he did not understand. Once Job repented of his self-righteousness and pride, then the Lord blessed and restored all things to him (Job 42:1-6).

Verse 9 - Because a foolish man's spiritual eyes are blinded, he cannot see the truth nor understand the viewpoint of those who walk in God's wisdom. When a godly man tries to explain the truth to a fool, he cannot be made to see reason, and the foolish man either rants or mocks. It is as 2 Corinthians 4:3-4 says: “But if our gospel is hidden, it is hidden to them that are lost: In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them."

Prayer Devotional for the Day Dear heavenly Father, I thank you for giving us Your wisdom. Lord, may I never blame You when the enemy is attacking me with something evil. Lord, please deliver me from any trace of murmuring and complaining when I am faced with trials in this life. May I instead put on the armor of God and use my faith to put the enemy to flight. May I always trust You to bring me victory over everything the enemy tries to defeat me with? I declare that he is a defeated foe and that no weapon formed against me shall prosper, and every tongue that rises against me in judgment, you shall prove to be wrong. I thank You for the victory in Jesus' name! Amen. From: Steven P. Miller @ParkermillerQ,  gatekeeperwatchman.org Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups, Wednesday, November 29, 2023, Jacksonville, Florida., USA.  X ... @ParkermillerQ #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller, #Eldermiller1981 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/Sparkermiller.JAX.FL.USA

[gatekeeperwatchman]

Daily Devotionals for November 29, 2022

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living Devotional Scripture: Proverbs 29:8-9 (KJV): 8 Scornful men bring a city into a snare: but wise men turn away wrath. 9 If a wise man contendeth with a foolish man, whether he rage or laugh, there is no rest.

Proverbs 29:8-9 (AMP): 8 Scoffers set a city afire (inflaming the minds of the people), but wise men turn away wrath. 9 If a wise man argues with a foolish man, the fool only rages or laughs, and there is no rest.   Thought for the Day

Verse 8 - A scornful person can incite people to take up a grievance will incite more people to take up the grievance and so on. This anger can even lead to the extreme of unruly mobs and anarchy. Scorners also incite contention in churches. One person takes offense at something and complains about it to other people, who then take up the offense and spread it to others. Instead of going to the pastor and praying about the problem, they fall into a snare of Satan and begin stirring up strife. People of wisdom should seek God as to how to neutralize a scorner's inflammatory words. Praying the scripture in faith over these kinds of situations can change and subdue angry crowds through God's power: "…Which stilleth the noise of the seas, the noise of their waves, and the tumult of the people" (Psalm 65:7).

One of the first things we need to know about God is that He is the source of all good things. He loves us. The Scripture says He loved us so much He sent His Son, Jesus, to die for us so that we might have life and have it more abundantly. We should not believe in praising God for tragedies, for sickness, for bad things; yet we should believe in praising Him amid these circumstances. The bad things did not come from God and we don't want to blame the Lord for something the devil sent. Our God is not the author of sickness, sin, tragedies, sorrow, and heartache. The devil is the one who sends these things and then tries to get us to blame them on the Lord. God is on our side, and when we begin blaming God and murmuring against Him, we have fallen into the devil's trap. We invite the "destroyer" into our lives when we yield to the devil's temptation to accuse God of our troubles. This was the source of Job's problems until he saw the light and repented for uttering things he did not understand. Once Job repented of his self-righteousness and pride, then the Lord blessed and restored all things to him (Job 42:1-6).

Verse 9 - Because a foolish man's spiritual eyes are blinded, he cannot see the truth nor understand the viewpoint of those who walk in God's wisdom. When a godly man tries to explain the truth to a fool, he cannot be made to see reason, and the foolish man either rants or mocks. It is as 2 Corinthians 4:3-4 says: "But if our gospel is hidden, it is hidden to them that are lost: In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which belief not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them."

Prayer for the Day Dear heavenly Father, I thank you for giving us Your wisdom. Lord, may I never blame You when the enemy is attacking me with something evil. Lord, please deliver me from any trace of murmuring and complaining when I am faced with trials in this life. May I instead put on the armor of God and use my faith to put the enemy to flight. May I always trust You to bring me victory over everything the enemy tries to defeat me with? I declare that he is a defeated foe and that no weapon formed against me shall prosper, and every tongue that rises against me in judgment, You shall prove to be wrong. I thank You for the victory in Jesus.

From: Steven P. Miller CEO/ Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups, At @GatekeeperWatchman1 , @ParkermillerQ, @steven_p_miller; https://www.facebook.com/ https://www.instagram.com/ https://www.tumblr.com/ Jacksonville, Florida., Duval County, USA.;

GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #GatekeeperWatchman1, #Shebuel, #Melkizadeck, #Brainstormer, #Ephraim1, #IAM

[newshuntermag]

Ghana Will Have Its First Female President After 2024 Elections – Prophet Badu Kobi Reveals

Ghana Will Have Its First Female President After 2024 Elections – Prophet Badu Kobi Reveals

Renowned Ghanaian Prophet, Emmanuel Badu Kobi has made a revelation about the 2024 general elections which will be held in Ghana. With a couple of years ahead, Prophet Badu Kobi prophesied that a woman, for the first time, will become Ghana’s President in 2024. He made this revelation when speaking with Captain Smart on Angel FM in Accra. In the audio Newshuntermag.com chanced upon on…

[sswissy]

𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 | 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅

𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆 | 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒙

Sister Imperator must've assumed being a glorified tour guide would crack Bellamira out of that damn shell but it backfired. It was a chore that was actually enjoyable in comparison to the many others that occupied her time. Plus Bellamira knew the church a little too well even the hidden places that Papa Nihil scolded her for knowing about. It wasn't her fault that she was an overly curious child alongside Terzo who made his own rules.

Bellamira was being followed by the new sister of sins who were clinging onto each word coming out from her mouth. The tinier details were usually overlooked by most but Mira was extremely prideful of the church considering it was the only home she knew. Plus Sister Imperator would've tore her a new asshole if she didn't emphasize on the schedule and history of this glorious unholy congregation.

"Papa Emeritus IV always does a wonderful performance at every black mass so make sure you're there promptly at midnight this Sunday!" Bellamira smiled brightly. There was always a lot of excitement when it came to black mass for the congregation. Newer members were usually a little nervous not knowing what to expect but would quickly join in praise to the Dark Lord.

"Have I died and gone to Hell? You look divine, sweetheart." Swiss whistled beside Aether who was running a hand down his face in embarrassment. Apparently the ghoul was able to spot the woman in a crowd from a mile away surprisingly Aether.

Bellamira quickly turned on her heels flushing pink when seeing Swiss down the corridor. The curious new sisters peeking around the woman to look for who was calling after their tour guide. Aether followed Swiss down the corridor to join the small group around Bellamira who were whispering questions to each other.

"This is Swiss and Aether, ladies. Both of them are performing ghouls for Papa Emeritus IV." Bellamira gestured to them. The reactions from newer members always amused the girl after being so used to the ghouls throughout the years. However she noticed quickly one of the woman eyeing Swiss with interest like most did. Usually Mira waved it off like nothing but this time it was really irking her.

"Have you been avoiding me, doll face? It's been awful without you next to me." Swiss wrapped an arm around Bellamira to pull her against him. His close proximity causing her cheeks to warm up and blush becoming brighter.

"I saw you last night, remember?" Bellamira chewed softly on her bottom lip. A horrible habit to most but caused the fire ghoul to groan internally.

"Mhm yes but that wasn't enough for me, princess." Swiss' claws lightly drawing circles on her hip. Most of the sisters surrounding them whispering to each other, some giggling afterwards whereas one continued staring at the ghoul. Usually Swiss would've entertained it but once Mira was around, it was harder to keep focus on other things around him.

"We're having another game night tonight if you'd like to join us?" Aether suggested. Rain most likely had already invited her like usual but figured they'd most likely hide away from the others. Aether enjoyed Bellamira's company when Rain didn't steal her away to read or play games on their own.

"Oh Rain invited me yesterday, I'll be there." Bellamira smiled. Game nights were very competitive between the ghouls but most times she missed out on it. With Swiss being there, Mira usually hid away with Rain to avoid making an absolute fool of herself.

"I'm keeping you all to myself tonight, princess." Swiss smirked. There was no way he'd let Rain run off with Mira this time. Those two always got plenty of time but Swiss rarely was able to catch her without his brother. Granted game nights were intense, it gave him an opportunity to actually spend time with her.

"I-if you say so." Bellamira cursed herself for growing nervous. It wasn't helping how Swiss kept his hands constantly somewhere on her body. Not that she definitely didn't like it but trying to focus on what Aether was saying was completely getting lost in the mix.

"Prepare yourself, sweetheart. It was nice meeting all of you, we'll see you at the next black mass." Swiss nodded his head in the group's direction, Aether following suit as well. Both of them waving at Bellamira while walking off down the corridor. She took a deep breath before focusing back on the group in front of her whose wheels where turning in their heads. It would definitely be beneficial to discuss ghouls next during the tour.

Swiss spun back around to Bellamira who was gesturing for the ladies to follow her. He quickly snuck back over to her and gently grabbed the side of her face. Bellamira instantly froze when his lips made contact with her cheek. Her eyes widening in surprise as the ghoul pulled away to wink at her and rush back over to Aether as if nothing happened.

"I uh-can't remember where we left off. But um please follow me, ladies." Bellamira smiled, running her fingers over her cheek. How the Hell would she survive tonight when he was already pulling shit like that? Rain would definitely hear about this development when this tour was over. There was no doubt he wasn't hiding in the library tucked away from the world like usual.

"Who exactly are they if you don't mind me asking?" The sister who had been very obvious with the staring towards Swiss ran up to her. Bellamira took notice how flustered the woman looked and wished she could roll her eyes in that moment. Many clergy members loved boasting about how the ghouls paid attention to them or fucked them however many times. It wasn't shameful at all, Mira wished she could have the confidence to just let Swiss do whatever he wanted with her. However the attention seeking ones always irked her after so many years of watching the desperation with them.

"Swiss and Aether are as I said performance ghouls. You'll meet many ghouls while being in the abbey, I suggest doing your research with them. There are several more that perform alongside Papa and all of them are incredibly talented." Bellamira proudly explained. It was important for any clergy member to learn about the ghouls and it was mostly in concern for their safety. Granted there hadn't been any incidents in quite some time but it was in their nature especially if a mate was involved or during heat.

"Which one was Swiss exactly?" Bellamira stopped walking. It wasn't wise to have favorites within the ghouls but she always had a hard time with that. Rain was of course someone she heavily favorited due to their friendship. Plus he had always been there to comfort or protect her when things became hard in the past years. But Swiss was an entirely different situation, Mira wasn't one to get possessive or jealous but with his growing attention towards her lately? It was a little difficult not to make a snide comment to this sister.

"Swiss was the taller one next to me." Bellamira quickly answered before continuing the tour. The way the sister's eyes lit up with the information made an uncomfortable feeling settle at the pit of her stomach. No doubt once Swiss actually paid attention to this new member, Mira would be long forgotten. Her mood admittedly dampening at the thought but doing her best to appear cheerful until the end. Bellamira would definitely try to talk Rain into skipping out on game night if it meant being able to hide away from Swiss again. It was pointless to continue feeding into something that wouldn't go anywhere after seeing this new sister.

Once the tour wrapped up, Bellamira sought out Rain with a pout. Just when she thought things were slowly moving in a better direction, life slapped her in the face. It was definitely hard to keep a ghoul like that interested for so long. Bellamira wanted to laugh at herself for thinking she had an actual chance. It was better to just continue life as before spending time with Rain and continue to further herself along in the church. That's if Rain even allowed her to do so after seeing Swiss paying so much attention to her...

taglist:

@mellie-teh-goblin-queen

@chiggennuggie

@simply-alone-and-sublime

@synestheticbisexual

[txemrn]

The Missionary's Daughter

Ch. 1: "Meant to Live"

Need to catch up? Prologue: "It's Over"

Chapter Song Inspo: "Meant to Live" by Switchfoot

Series Song Inspo: "Changed by You" by Between the Trees

Pairings: Drake Walker x OC (Margot Hughes); Liam Rys x Riley Brooks

Series Warning: 🛑 for mature audiences only (🔞); series contains angst, language, NSFW🍋 material; trigger warning: heavy discussion/depiction of drug and alcohol abuse, suicide, religion, mental health; please be advised and exercise discretion

A/N: When I say that this took a village, it would be the understatement of the century! Huuuuuuuuge thank you to all of my amazing sweet writing sisters that encouraged me and helped me pull this together, but especially to @charlotteg234 for brainstorming and mapping this out with me, @kat-tia801 for doing the same, but then having to deal with me incessantly asking, "Does this sound right?" and @chemist-ana FOR GIFITNG ME MY FREAKING AMAZING MOODBOARD! It's SO beautiful, and it literally puts me in the mood to write about my Druggy Drake and Margot! Thank you so, so much, friend! Most of the characters and some of the plot belong to our friends at Pixelberry.

A palpable crackle ignites the sterile air of the staff locker room. To say she was ‘nervous’ is a painfully severe understatement to the jitters that spark from her fingertips. But, rather than dance chaotically like cut wires on pavement, she is lightning, mesmerizing, lighting up the sky with excitement and power.

***

Dressing for another Monday morning at her weekly volunteer job at the prestigious Cordonia Family OB/GYN, Margot Hughes swiftly shimmies a monogrammed ceil blue scrub top down her curves. Pulling her brilliant strands of autumn harvest into a high bun, she slips on her work clogs while nudging her locker closed with her knee.

Before leaving the changing area, she catches her visage in the mirror, the unflattering fluorescent lights casting more shadows onto her worried features. She can feel the rumble of her rapid heartbeat echoing in her ears; her chest constricts tightly as her breathing becomes shallow. Her eyes begin to sting with fear as the whites burn red, threatening with a glaze of tears.

Today is the day her entire life will change; everything she has ever wanted, everything that she has ever worked for will suddenly determine the course of her future in a single moment. Seeing the all-too-familiar terror in her eyes, Margot flutters her eyelids shut. Her fingers nervously trace along a simple chain around her neck until they finally grasp tightly to a dainty sterling silver charm: a cross.

“Take my anxieties, Lord,” she whispers with prayerful conviction, her sparkling blue eyes gracefully opening to look at her necklace. She exhales deeply. “Your will be done.” Margot stares at her reflection for a few more moments, focusing on her breathing to calm her restless heart. “You are strong, Margot. You've got this,” she affirms herself in a hushed tone, a bright smile breaking across her face. “This is your day--" suddenly overwhelmed with peace, a joyous smile paints across her face. Chuckling to herself, she glances upwards: “I'm counting on You.” Taking a deep cleansing breath, she eagerly exits the stillness of her thoughts, and joins the bustle of the morning's clinic appointments. Today is her day.

***

Halos of blurred auras bleach his vision as Drake cautiously opens one blood-shot eye. His tongue sticks to the roof of his roughly parched mouth as he massages his pained forehead. Clueless of what day it is--much less what he did last night--he is greeted with a sudden glorious sensation: a supple wet mouth on his hardened morning length.

His body relaxes back onto the dampened, disheveled sheets of his bed; he releases a pleasurable exhale as he blindly reaches for the head behind the lips. He strains to focus his view, but can only make out a foggy shape of a nude woman with long, tousled brunette waves.

It’s her. His love.

Drake smiles; delicately tangling his grip in her strands, he admires how even the afternoon sun catches her beauty perfectly. He quietly smacks his lips. He can still smell her on his stubble; he can still taste her on his tongue.

Had she told Liam? Were they celebrating that they could finally be together?

As she takes in the head of his girth, he arches his back, relaxing his body into her hungry touch. Closing his eyes, he offers a guttural groan deep in his chest as she swirls her tongue around his firm thickness.

“God, you’re incredible, Riley--”

---

Pulling out a pen, Margot reaches across the counter to grab a patient’s clipboard--that is until Iris, the front desk manager grips her long, manicured nails to the other side of the particle wood. “Miss Mary-Margaret,” she leans in conspiratorially, lowering her voice, “do we know anything yet?” Margot chuckles, shaking her head. “Child, you better come find me the moment you know!”

“Only if you promise to start calling me ‘Margot’” the young blonde jests, opening her client’s chart.

“How about I start calling you what we’ll all be calling you in just a few short years: ‘doctor’?” Rosy pink swirls splash across Margot’s face, warming her cheeks to the touch. She bows her head coyly at the mention of her dream becoming a reality. The thought that she will soon find out if a medical career is in her future makes the twenty-one-year-old’s heart leap with unbridled excitement.

For as long as she can remember, Margot has had a strong desire to serve and help other people. Much of that selfless attitude was instilled into her heart by her own parents. They were called to be Christian missionaries when Margot was only eight years old. After much planning, church fund-raising, and prayer, Roy and Mary Hughes left their comfortable home of Lafayette, Louisiana, and settled in the small Mediterranean country of Cordonia.

Many of their friends and family were shocked that the church would send them to such a beautiful area of the world. Typically missionaries humble themselves to serve the needy, the homeless, the lonely and the sick. They sacrifice the luxuries of home for the sake of loving humanity. They help people in war-torn countries, third-world countries, countries that don’t have electricity or running water. But, this country?

Cordonia itself is a lavish nation, rich in heritage and traditions. And funds. Thanks to the ideal weather conditions, the fruitful soil produces bountiful harvests and exquisite supplies for fine textiles that remain in high demand throughout the world. The Cordonian government, a monarchy, discovered a new opportunity to expand their wealth in the late 19th century: costly tariffs to international investors. Within the first ten years of increasing the taxes on exports, the national treasury was not only in the black, but their funds had exponentially increased every year. Farms were flourishing as the working class became larger, stronger.

But, the treasury began to dwindle quickly due to the extravagant demands of the royals. For the first time in the country's history, commoners were wealthier than some of the nobility. Disdain from the upper class quickly ensued until finally, in the early 20th century under the rule of William I, a new tax law was implemented to all of Cordonia: anyone involved with international exchange would have to pay into the treasury to handle such business.

Unfortunately, there were no limitations to this new tax law, and many farms floundered, property ownership being seized by the government. Families were uprooted; jobs were lost, and worse, assets were sold for even more money, filling the pockets of the greedy leaders. The people that once had a plethora of goods at their fingertips were now starving and unsheltered. And vengeful. The Cordonians were outraged by the gouging, many of them forming violent riots, banding together with outside influencers in hopes of overthrowing the government.

On the cusp of a civil war, King William I decided to rezone the country, providing a place for the displaced working class to claim safety and sanctuary, a place that would offer shelter, education, and more affordable options for goods. To appease the people even more, he named the project ‘the Core,’ paying homage to their greatest export, the Cordonian Ruby. It was also a way for him to forever express his gratitude for such a fruitful nation: they were the core reason the nation was thriving so richly.

Like many government-assisted programs, it didn’t take long for the cracks to show in the infrastructure. And with funding cuts over the years, the Core began to crumble, striking a sharp contrast from the rest of Cordonia. The Core, now often referred to as ‘the slums’, have become a breeding ground for crime, drugs, and prostitution. It is the blemish of Cordonia, its existence often not acknowledged amongst the elite.

But, according to the Hughes, ‘God saw the need’. They were sent to serve in the slums of Cordonia, starting up several free programs, including a nightly soup kitchen, afterschool programs to keep children out of trouble, and trade classes to help adults out of poverty. The people accepted the help and adapted quickly to the missionaries; but even more importantly, they embraced these Americans as their own, many of them forming important and lasting relationships with the Hughes.

But, still there was something missing, something that burdened the missionary’s oldest daughter: healthcare. Having good health and access to a doctor is still treated as a privilege in Cordonia, and time and time again, the curable were disabled or buried. A change needed to take place. And Margot, although unsure of how, knew she would devote her life in making it happen for the Cordonian people.

As she makes a few notes on her clipboard, an olive-complected arm stealthily reaches around Margot, gracefully grazing her sun-kissed skin before gently placing a cup of piping hot black coffee in front of her. Staring at the hand, she instantly knows who it is. And she titters, playfully rolling her eyes. “Tadd! Another coffee?” She grabs the coffee, twirling on the ball of her foot to face the clinic’s young ultrasound technician. "My tab must be over a hundred euros by now!"

"Oh, don't you worry about that," he chuckles, rocking on his feet. “Plus, I figured with your new gig at Bríki--” he jovially shrugs his shoulders.

“You figured what?” Margot playfully punches his shoulder. “That I could sneak you free coffee?” She gives a mischievous smile, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think Mr. Pavlis would appreciate me offering free drinks, especially since I haven’t even started yet--”

“That’s right!” Tadd eyes widen. “Today’s the day--!”

“As if I didn’t already have enough to be nervous about today,” Margot’s voice becomes shaky, as she clenches her teeth in a forced smile.

“Hey,” Tadd’s voice turns into an endearing whisper. He shifts his head until his piercing jade eyes meet Margot’s baby blues. “You have nothing to worry about. We both know you did well on that American doctor test--"

"The MCAT," Margot stifles a laugh, rolling her eyes into an appreciative grin.

"Whatever," a crooked smile grows across Tadd's handsome features. "And as far as the coffee shop, you're a fast learner. And a hard worker. Plus, if they see what we all see in you--" he sighs, his gaze never breaking free from hers, "-- they're going to love you."

Margot looks down at her feet, hugging her clipboard tightly to her chest. Feeling her palms begin to sweat, she coyly looks back up at her dear friend. "Thanks, Tadd."

After a few silent moments of staring at each other, Tadd clears his throat. "So, um--" he starts, "have you heard anything yet? About the test?" Tadd changes the subject. Margot shakes her head as she takes a pull from her coffee. "Well, when you do, um, maybe we could, I mean, I thought we could--"

Suddenly an intercom buzzes overhead. "Thaddeus to exam room four. Thaddeus to exam room four."

Tadd furrows his eyebrows, looking to the ceiling before resting a kind half-smile back on Margot. "Duty calls," he nervously sighs as he bounds down the hallway. Halfway down the corridor, he spins around to face Margot. "Hey, um, come find me! Before you leave at noon!" He finger-guns the air before returning to his pursuit.

Margot awkwardly finger-guns him back before smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Seriously, Margot?" she mutters to herself, turning her attention back to the central desk of the clinic; however, she realizes quickly that the attention is all on her.

"When are you two going to make it official, Miss Mary-Margaret?" Iris chokes in the midst of her belly laughs, nodding with other scrub-adorned coworkers.

Biting her bottom lip feeling her heart flutter, Margot straightens out her demeanor, becoming stoic. "I--I don't know what you're talking about--"

"Margot, isn't it obvious?" Chimes in a jolly intake nurse. "That boy loves you--!"

"Who? Tadd?" Margot feigns innocence. She fixes her attention to the chart as she scribbles down more notes. "It's not like that--I mean, we're not, um--" she sighs. "We're just friends--" An instant roar of laughter abrupts from the reception desk, making it impossible for Margot to hide her toothy-smile paired with her scrunched up nose.

"You say that now, baby girl--"

"That's right," chimes in another giggling co-worker, "friends for now!"

An older plump nurse places a tender hand on Margot’s hand, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Some of the best relationships come from friendships, moró. Give it time. Let the love grow," she winks at Margot.

Margot fidgets with her pen, delicately licking her bottom lip. She then tries to form words with her mouth, but no sound is heard. Her pink cheeks reveal she is flustered. She quickly closes up the chart, pushing loose hairs behind her ear. "Have a good day, ladies."

Hearing the squeals of her coworkers diminishing behind her, Margot quickly escapes into an empty exam room. Closing the door behind her, she leans against it, looking up at the textured ceiling tiles. She can feel the butterflies in her stomach bouncing through to her heart as her legs wiggle with weakness like gelatin.

The idea of 'falling in love' excites Margot, an idea she has dreamed about ever since she saw Baby meet Johnny. But, so far in her young life, she has never experienced it first hand, let alone a romantic hand- hold. Was this love? All she knew for sure was today was not the day to figure it out.

***

As soon as Riley’s name escapes his breathless moans of ecstasy, a searing sharp pain instantly ignites around his hardened girth. And Drake sees red.

"Fuck!" He lets out a guttural roar until no sound comes out of his mouth. He gnashes his teeth, trying to breathe through the agony, but only froths at the corners of his lips. The veins in his neck and his forehead protrude violently as streams of tears roll down his face. Petrified to move, his face turns a deep ruddy color. Before turning violet.

A sudden sensation of relief washes over him as the stabbing sensation fades to throbbing. Drake nervously looks down at his softening cock, relieved to see his member in one piece. "Goddamnit, Brooks," he pants furiously, "you fucking bit me--"

The brunette quickly tosses her curls out of her eyesight right before her fist meets Drake's jaw. "Oh, shit!" The cracking of the joints in his face echoes around the room. Drake starts to gently massage his chin. "You're not Riley--"

She climbs off of his body, standing her naked body in front of him. "No shit, Sherlock!" She slinks her short black spaghetti-strap dress over her dangerous curves before hastily grabbing her clear platform heels and racing out the door. "Fuck you, Drake Walker!"

***

A heartless, cocky laugh pours over the phone speaker. "Shit, Walker. Just--" the baritone voice trails back into a fit of laughter.

"It's not funny, Leo--" Drake warns, accidentally shifting his weight in bed, stirring a soreness to his recent injuries. "Ow!” he sucks air quickly between his gritted teeth, “fuck!" he whimpers to himself, adjusting the cold packs on his genitals.

"But you actually called her a different name, bro. A different name! With her mouth on your salami, your pocket rocket, on your--on your anaconda--" Leo's words fade back into cackles.

"As if you remember every goddamn hook-up’s name--"

"Dude," Leo interrupts, "if she's going to go all hungry, hungry hippo mid-blowie, I'm going to remember her name."

Drake scoffs. "Bullshit--"

"What? I'm serious, bro" Leo's voice becomes sincere. "All of these bitches we meet are looking for one thing--" he pauses dramatically for his wounded friend to finish his sentence; but the silence proves Drake is clueless as to where Leo was going with this. "A connection, Walker!" Leo's voice drips with conviction. "These women don't want to feel like they're disposable, even though--" he chuckles to himself, “let’s be honest: we’re doing them a favor--”

"--’A connection’, Leo" Drake interrupts, urging the conversation back on track.

"Right! ‘A connection," reaffirms Leo, circling back to his point. "Now, okay,” he knowingly titters, “I can’t remember all of these names--”

“Ha! See?” Drake barks.

“--Which is why--” Leo enunciates over Drake, “I use a single pet name. ‘Girl’.”

"'Girl'? That’s your trick? You call them 'girl'?" Drake raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Hear me out,” Leo continues. “If you call them something like ‘baby’ or ‘sweetie’, it can be seen as patronizing, that you’re clearly looking to smooth-talk your way into their pants--” Drake rolls his eyes, moving the phone to his other ear “--but now, calling them ‘girl’, I’m showing I want to be a friend, that I just simply want to connect. And then when you’re having your way with her, call her whatever the fuck you want as long as you finish the name with ‘girl’. Good girl. Dirty girl. Naughty girl. Sweet girl. Or in your case, hungry girl--”

Drake clears his throat, stifling a laugh. “--That is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard--”

“Hey!” Leo interjects. “Who is wearing a bag of frozen peas on his one-eyed trouser snake?”

��Touché,” Drake sighs. “So, where are you right now?”

“With Jason up at his shop.”

“Who?” Drake lets out yawn, looking at his bedside alarm clock.

“Shit, Walker, you really were fucked up last night," Leo sighs. "Jason. You met him last night.” Leo’s voice lowers into a whisper. “He helped you get fucked up last night.”

“Oh! Right, right,” Drake rubs his head, “that was--wow, that shit was--”

“Good, right?” Leo finishes. “Hey, come join us at his shop. We’ve got coffee, and he’s got some new, um, product he’d love to show you--”

“Oh, Leo, I don’t know--” Drake removes the melting bag of vegetables from his lap. Gently lifting up on the waistband of his boxers, carefully inspecting his bruised parts.

“Does Liam have you working today?”

“No, no, it’s not that--” Drake hesitates.

“Oh!” Leo knowingly exclaims. “Does Riley have you working today?” He begins to chuckle. “You might need to let her know that you’re currently indisposed for --”

“Leo--” Drake warns.

“Then what's the hold up?"

Drake glances over at the mirror affixed to his antique dresser, but he doesn't recognize his own reflection. There's an emptiness in eyes, an inexplicable turmoil overcoming the man he once was. How did everything get so complicated? How did he get to such a place that it's better to be absent in life than to live it?

She was just a friend--at least that's what he convinced himself when Riley Brooks first caught his eye. Beautiful. Extremely witty with a fight he had never seen before. When they first kissed, he swore it was a mistake. Hormones. It had been so long since he had touched the delicate petals of a woman's lips.

But, this wasn't just any woman. It was her. And he soon would find himself wrapped up in her bedsheets, wrapped around her finger, wrapped in an awful web of lies.

And, all of his transgressions were against him, his very best friend, the man he regards as closer than a brother, his closest ally and confidant. Normally, Drake would turn to Liam in a heartbeat with any troubles, but this? How could he? How could he talk to Liam about his own devastation when the truth would devastate Liam?

It's been four days since that fateful night of Liam's coronation, four days since the love of Drake's life walked away from him, forcing his hand into harboring secrets from the crowned prince. It's been four days since Drake heard his own voice in his head, four days since he's been sober enough to even think. Even though he deemed the temporary escape necessary, the sudden twinge of discomfort in his groin makes him realize that taking another hit right now is the absolute last thing he needs.

"I think I better stay put," Drake answers, combing his fingers through his disheveled tresses.

"Suit yourself," Leo jovially retorts. "If you need any oxy for your boo-boo, hit me up--Oh, and Drake?"

“Hrmmm?”

"Her name is Whitney."

"What?"

"Jaws? You know, the bitch who chewed on your Moby Dick?" Drake sighs heavily, regretting that he ever told Leo what had happened. "Her name is Whitney."

Drake furrows his eyebrows. "Now, how do you remember her name--?"

"Oh, bro, you don't forget WAP Whitney--oh shit, you probably haven't gotten a good look at your sheets this morning, have you?"

With a grunt, Drake ends the call. “Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath. He carefully gets up, waddling to grab his clothes before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

In the middle of splashing his face with cold, soapy water, Drake's phone rings. Grabbing a hand towel he carefully saunters back to his room, answering the call without hesitation. "Just let it go, Leo--”

"Drake?"

An icy chill shoots down Drake’s spine, freezing him in his steps. He knows that melodic voice anywhere, a voice that reminds him of early morning sunrises and late night silver moonlit paths. “H-hey, Riley,” he stutters, caught off guard. A brief awkward stillness falls over the conversation. “How are you--?”

“I miss you, Drake,” she interrupts.

Drake’s vision suddenly begins to spin as the air in the room becomes stagnant. Stiffening his bottom lip in anger, his breathing quickens as he reaches out carefully to brace himself against the wall.

“Drake?”

“I’m here,” he chokes out. “What do you want, Brooks?” He can hear the tears in her voice, but he wills himself not to care, he wills himself to not even ask.

“Drake, I think I made a mistake--”

“No,” Drake barks out, “no, you can’t do this to me--”

“Drake, please,” Riley sobs, “I’m on my way to the doctor--”

“The doctor?” Drake’s tone suddenly changes. “Are you okay? Is everything with--um, you know--” he slaps his forehead with the palm of his hand, “--okay?”

“Yes--” she sniffles, “--no. I just, I can’t do this alone, Drake. I can’t do this--”

“Riley--” he roughly says her name to grab her attention, “you made your decision: you chose Liam. You want to raise our baby--my baby with him--”

“Don’t you think I want to have this baby with you? That’s all I can even think about Drake,” she takes a moment to calm down her shaking voice. “I love you, Drake. I want a life with you. I want you to be there when this baby is born, when this baby needs his or her father--when this baby needs you--”

“Riley--” Drake exhales with frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose, “--but Liam--”

“I know, Drake. I know--” Riley takes a deep breath, “Can we just talk? In person? Just so we can figure this out? I can come over there--”

“Brooks, I--” Drake stumbles over his words as he runs his fingers over his coarse, overgrown stubble. Of course, he wants her to come over. And to stay. But, has anything changed? Liam just proposed, and she made it clear what her intentions were. But, still, it’s possible she had a change of heart, and this was a second chance he may never get again. He sighs heavily. “Sure. Okay."

After finishing his impromptu conversation with Riley, Drake realizes he needs to make another phone call. He scrolls through his call history, and clicks the green send button.

"Did you change your mind, Evander Holyfield?"

"Funny, Leo," Drake sarcastically responds. "So, yeah, um, what's the address to the shop?"

***

“Does that--does that say what I think it says?” Margot nervously stammers. "I think I saw my score--oh gosh!"

“Here. Let me look--”

Margot quickly covers the computer screen with her hands, "No, Mrs. Iris!” Margot squeals. “I’m not ready--I’m not ready for this!”

“Child, you have been ready for this for months. Now, if you don’t get your hands out of the way--"

"What's with all the commotion?" A few technicians and nurses pile into the room, each giving an endearing rub to Margot’s back. Everyone begins craning their necks to see the computer, covered by Margot's arms. "Is it time? Have they posted the scores?"

"They sure have!" answers Iris before turning to Margot. She tucks several blonde wisps behind Margot’s ear before putting her finger under her chin. "C'mon, baby," she smiles encouragingly, "it's more fun celebrating than worrying."

"I'm--" Margot takes a deep breath, biting back her tears, "--I'm so scared--"

"--and the Lord knew you would be, baby." Iris wrinkles her nose at Margot, her voice becoming stronger. "That's why He called you to be courageous. C'mon."

Margot bites her lip, slowly nodding her head. Feeling the storm brew in her eyes as the weight of the world sits on her chest, she carefully peels back her hands. Her eyes scale the black and white on the screen, but nothing seems to make sense. A burst of silence overwhelms her hearing, time standing perfectly still. Her only company is the beating of her heart.

Take my anxieties...

You have nothing to worry about…

Your will be done…

Be courageous...

Like suddenly breaking through the surface for air, an abrupt roar of cheers fill the room, shaking Margot from her trance. "Our baby girl got a 519!" screams a tearful Iris, pulling Margot from her seat and into a tight embrace. Other coworkers join in, creating a giant group hug.

Margot remains speechless, shocked by her score. She always knew she was an excellent student, studying hard all through school and excelling in her classes. When it came to the MCAT, she was confident she would score better than average, a score of 500. But, to even be noticed by top medical schools, she needed to score in the top 5%, a score 517 or greater.

News swept like wildfire through the clinic, and shortly thereafter, Tadd and some other technicians filed into the breakroom with a decorative chocolate cake and punch in tow. "I knew you could do it!" Tadd cheers victoriously, offering a chaste hug to Margot. "Dr. Hughes," he swipes his hand in the air as if to paint an imaginary portrait. "It has a nice ring to it."

"I still don't understand why you put yourself through all of that," mentions an older phlebotomist. "Cordonia has a medical school right down the road--"

"Because Margot wants to go to one of the best medical schools in the world," interrupts a deeply demanding, yet sincere voice. “To Harvard. Like me.”

"Dr. Ramirez," Margot smiles brightly, jumping up to greet her mentor with a hug.

"That is, you are still looking at my alma mater for medical school--"

"Yes ma'am!" Margot's eyes light up with the thought that her dream of going to Harvard Medical School is becoming her reality. "It would be such an honor to go there, let alone to follow in your footsteps."

Dr. Ramirez pulls Margot in for another tight hug. "My word, Mary-Margaret, 519?" she presses her cheek to Margot's, "I am so proud of you."

"Thank you, Dr. Ramirez," Margot warmly responds, "thank you for taking a chance on me and helping me so much with my studies and research--"

"You know I did that for selfish reasons, right?" The practitioner stifles a smile while Margot squints her eyes with suspicion. "Cordonia needs more female physicians, and more importantly, physicians that will make a difference in its healthcare," she grips tightly to Margot’s hand, "for everyone. I believe you will lead this country in a health care reformation."

"I don't know what to say," Margot clears her throat as she fights back the tears. "I hope I make you proud--"

"You already do." Dr. Ramirez gently touches Margot's cheek lovingly before turning to exit the room.

"Oh!" Margot quickly chases after the obstetrician, “can I talk to you? Privately?” With a nod, Dr. Ramirez leads Margot into a quiet corner. “I know my work-study ends in two weeks--”

“I know. Don’t remind me, Margot--”

“Well, I was wondering,” Margot chews on the side of her mouth, fidgeting with her fingers, “if by any chance I could possibly stay on?”

“Oh, Margot, I wish I could. Unfortunately with budget cuts--”

Margot shakes her head. “No, no, Dr. Ramirez, I meant if I could stay on, shadowing my usual Monday and Thursday mornings, I mean, if that’s alright. Learn more? Keep up my skills?”

“You want to continue volunteering with us?” The doctor gives an inquisitive look. “Don’t you want to get a job to earn money before you move to the states next year?”

“I already got that covered,” Margot assuredly answers. “I just got a job at Bríki, the coffee shop past the square--”

“Oh my gosh,” Dr. Ramirez’s eyes light up. “Does Aleksi still own that place?”

“Mr. Pavlis? Yes! Him and his son run it together, I believe--”

“They have the best coffee,” she energetically smiles, “now I have another reason to stop by.” She kindly places her hand on Margot’s shoulder. “Of course, you can stay on as a volunteer. Whenever you want, however much you want. It is a pleasure to have you around.” With a squeeze of her arm, Dr. Ramirez turns to go to her next appointment, but stops halfway down the hall. “Oh, Margot? My nurse stepped away to make an important phone call. Do you mind escorting my next patient to the exam room?”

Margot dutifully nods with a grin. She twirls around, bounding for the front desk to grab the chart of Dr. Ramirez’s next patient, a new patient. After making a few small notes, Margot opens the door to call her back.

“Brooks? Riley Brooks?”

*****

Tags: (this is my original tag list for this series; if you wanted to be added or removed, please let me know!) @alyssalauren @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @forallthatitsworth @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovingchoices14 @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @sweatyrysconnoisseur @taniasethi @tessa-liam @texaskitten30 @thefrenchiemama @thegreentwin @twinkleallnight @yourmajesty09

[believe-that-you-can-my-friend]

Elisabeth & Noah in the origin world (2/?)

First date

He is not sure if he should text her or not.

On Monday, upon waking up with every ounce of alcohol finally off his bloodstream and after he has spent the entire Sunday recovering from the worst hangover he’s experienced since his college years, Noah is back on his reserved nature, the timid one, the one lacking the amount of whiskey-infused courage it takes for him to deal with matters revolving around human interaction, especially with women. He’s not a social outcast per se, but his confidence mostly accompanies him in the career-oriented side of his life.

It’s not like he’s not interested. He crossed the line of “interested” when he stooped to the lowest level possible, looking her up on Instagram, of all things, via Agnes’ account.

(His little sister has a long list of questions and he has a long list of brotherly favors that he promised to fulfill in exchange for her seven-digit password.)

She doesn’t have a vast presence on social media, a quality they apparently share. He keeps a long forgotten Facebook account and a professional LinkedIn one and acts blissfully ignorant towards any other platform that isn’t YouTube. Her Facebook account - oh yeah, he checked that one too - is a mix between personal and business, opinion posts about socio-politcal matters on the grounds of their country to the entirety of Europe to the endlessness of the globe and take-action events in regard to the causes she supports, occasionally interrupted by a reunion selfie with an old friend or a brunch date with her mom and her sister. That particular post redirected to some Instagram link, so, unwittingly, his curiosity was peaked.

Her Instagram account is colourful, vivid, filled with adventures and laughter. Just from an idle scroll, Elisabeth Doppler - Winden born, age twenty-four, Energy Engineer, Berlin based - can easily be perceived as someone that quite enjoys life. Her group of associates and friends seems endless and her gallery consists of photos of dinners with young professionals, pub-crawling with girlfriends, road tripping across Europe, Erasmus Programme memories, tree-planting projects, women’s rights marches, snorkelling, paragliding. Noah spends the whole Sunday afternoon feeling overwhelmed and in awe, tapping picture after picture, mesmerized by her lovely smile that adds a softer undertone to her busy bee of a life.

He finds it fascinating, her mindset and her lifestyle, but, at the same time, he fears that their personalities may clash, his more keeping-to-himself attitude the polar opposite to her seemingly outgoing one. Then, it’s also the age barrier. He thinks that thirty-two might be a little off-putting for someone in their early twenties, a decade that comes with a whole other set of expectations and milestones than the one he is currently in. The major problem, though - a chronic problem of his - is that he’s thinking too much.

Fortunately, that’s not a thing they have in common.

Elisabeth texts him on Monday morning, at 9.54 to be exact. He’s in the middle of a lecture, teaching History of Religion 101 to an auditorium filled with sleepy freshmen, when his phone screen lights up, its glow illuminating in the dimly lit room. It’s a simple “good morning” paired up with a smiling face emoji but it’s enough to cause his heart to race and his mind to short-circuit, leaving him reciting things off the projection screen without really registering what comes out of his mouth until the lesson is over. With sweaty hands and in the mist of internal panic laced with excitement, he texts her back at 10.38 an equally casual “hey, hope you’re having a good morning, too”. He beats himself up for not asking her anything the minute he presses send, like, how she’s doing, if she’s at work - literally anything, Noah, Jesus Christ, now she’ll think that you don’t care, nice work, you idiot - especially as the hours pass and there’s silence from her end. He spends the rest of the day drowning in miserable self-pity, checking his dead phone literally every minute, until there’s a new message from her, telling him that she had a very busy day at work and asking him how his day was.

(Thank God, because he was about to send her an embarrassing word vomit apologizing for having zero social skills whatsoever.)

They continue their back and forth texting for the rest of the week, casual conversations about their everyday lives turning into debates about the best places to eat and the best movies of all time to metaphysics and social justice that keep them up till the small hours of morning, Elisabeth sending him blowing-a-kiss face emoji’s for goodnight and Noah smiling like a silly teenager at his phone screen. Right in the middle of one of their more “serious” conversations, Elisabeth venting about income-based discrimination, Noah asks her out. It’s abrupt and totally irrelevant to the context of the rest of the bubbles that litter their personal chat at that moment but he can’t really help himself. She is a woman he wants - needs - to know more about, not through a screen, but in person, sit there and watch her express all the things she has in her brilliant mind.

They arrange to meet on Friday night, after she finishes work, since Noah has to attend a seminar in Dresden on the weekend and since both of them are too impatient to wait any longer. Noah arrives first at the bar she gave him directions to and decides on waiting for her outside but decides against smoking a cigarette, even though he’s itching to, out of habit and nerves. She rounds the corner barely five minutes later, strutting towards him in an electric blue pantsuit and a plaid maxi grey coat, her whole face brightening with a stunning smile when she notices him, and, just like that, everything else fades, his anxiety about their first official date, his mental fatigue after holding office hours, his insecurities, his worries and she is the only thing that exists, the only thing that matters.

A wave of panic washes over him momentarily, his inner perfectionist making a huge deal out of not having a clear plan of how to greet her. A handshake is too impersonal, a kiss too presumptuous. Ultimately, he attempts an awkward, one-arm kinda hug - which is ridiculous because a) he’s a freaking grown-up and b) her tongue has already been inside his mouth and he doesn’t recall his hands being particularly respectful the night of Jonas’ wedding, when she pushed him against a wall and stole his breath with a glorious kiss - an action she probably misconstrues as a leaning in and this results in them doing a clumsy dance right there on the pavement, but she giggles and her eyes shine with amusement, so his self-deprecating frown gives its place to a handsome smirk, when she moves closer to him and leaves a soft peck on his cheek, as a belated greeting. She smells of sensuous jasmine and intoxicating amber, her perfume aery but with a spicy twist that succeeds in stimulating all of his senses. He holds the door for her to enter and his hand lingers lightly on the small of her waist, as they make their way through the tables to the bar.

They settle on two empty barstools and order their signature drinks, Gin and Tonic and Whiskey on the Rocks. Elisabeth takes her phone out of her tote bag but before she gets to type anything, Noah holds her attention. He thinks for a moment and then makes his hands move, forming tentative gestures that lack any grace or flow but succeed in signing “It’s nice to see you. How have you been?”.

Elisabeth beams, impressed, her lips mouthing an excited “how?”. He just shrugs and shyly pulls out of his messenger bag a thick sign language book, a recent purchase of his which he’s been studying with every chance he got. Her whole face softens, touched by his sweet gesture, before she types on her phone.

That’s very thoughtful of you, thank you. Even though you shouldn’t have; apart from technology’s assistance, I’m pretty good at reading lips.

He uses his phone to reply. Yeah, I gathered that much. I just want to talk to you in your language.

The look that she gives him under her fluttering eyelashes is so tender and lovely that he can’t help but stare, a foolish grin plastered on his lips and a hot blush painted on his neck, creeping from the collar of his grey shirt.

They talk - type, to be exact, with the occasional mimic of a word or two - about everything and nothing, fast thumbs trying to keep up with their effortless conversation on the notifications’ section of their phones. He learns about her childhood in Winden, her hellish pranks to her older sister Franziska, her loving parents that separated when she was a preteen but never stopped caring about each other or being there for their daughters. She talks about her hometown friends and her honor roll high school experience, moving to Berlin to attend university and falling in love with the lively vibe of the city, getting her Master’s in Energy Engineering and recently landing her first job on the field at the Tiedemann Enterprises, a very prestige corporation in the industry of renewable energy. She’s still particularly excited about this, being part of a team of researchers thriving to improve energy efficiency based on an environmental friendly strategy.

Noah tells her about his memories as a young boy in Vechta, how he lost his mother when he was only six, due to complications while giving birth to his sister, how his father was never really in the picture after that tragic incident. How the local church and especially Sic Mundus, a church based organization for neglected children and troubled teens, contributed to his and Agnes’ well-being and education, helping him land a university scholarship and get a job, so he could afford moving his sister to Berlin, too, after he got his bachelor degree, and offering her a more stable living situation and a normal life. How, apparently, his aptitude for the humanities and his upbringing in a religious environment drove him to follow an academic career in religious studies, a field that he finds beyond interesting, especially its anthropology aspect.

Somewhere along the conversation, too absorbed into their own little world to register the fewer people in the bar and the clock ticking towards closing time, his hand, as if it has a mind of its own, slides slowly over the wooden top of the bar, her slender fingers meeting his hesitant approach halfway. They’re barely touching but it’s electrifying, the feeling of even an inch of his skin against her skin so exhilarating and powerful, like the impact of meteors colliding or the universe exploding into pieces. It feels like a Déjà vu, like a glitch in the Matrix, like they know each other from the past or recognize each other from their future. It’s a feeling both of them kept seeking, a feeling that they silently vow never to lose.

Noah pays for the drinks, despite her objections, and Elisabeth insists that, next time, the bill is on her. He smirks, a tad tipsy on the whiskey, a lot tipsy on her, and teases her that he must have done something right, because this is the first time a girl agrees on a second date with him this fast. She just shrugs, a cheeky smirk playing on her lip-glossed lips, as she types, if I left it up to you, we’d still be on the PG-13 “good morning” texts. He laughs, an effortless, loud laugh and he catches her staring - no, not staring, checking him out - the corner of her longing smile trapped between her teeth. He fights the insane urge to kiss her senseless right here in this empty bar with the bartender mentally plotting their death for keeping him past his shift.

He accompanies her to the U-Bahn station and his heart skips a heartbeat at the prospect of sharing ten more minutes with her, according to the information display over their heads. She wishes him to have fun in Dresden and he confesses that he wishes he could stay here, to spend the weekend with you, he wants to add but refrains, in fear of confessing too much too fast. Instead, he tells her that he had an amazing night and he’s so relieved and purely happy when she nods vigorously in agreement, her low ponytail bobbing lightly and her beautiful face radiating even under the harsh fluorescent light of the station. The atmosphere around them is suddenly very charged, their bodies gravitating towards each other, and their eyes engage in a stare off that speaks volumes and holds so much unresolved tension. He can hear the bright yellow train approaching and his breath quickens as he takes a brave step forward, invades her personal space, and his eyes declare defeat, falling to her lips. He’s the one to kiss her this time, a soft peck that turns into a needy battle of dominance when she melts into his arms and angles her face to kiss him more, deeper, hungry mouths dancing together in passion, his shoulders hunching over her smaller figure, his hands cradling her cheeks. Her own hands sneak under his coat and suit jacket, delivering a heavy caress over the material of his shirt before she closes her arms around his waist, Noah letting a trembling exhale into the kiss and his lips forming a lazy smirk against her giggling ones. Smugly, Elisabeth tugs lightly at his lower lip with her teeth, a naughty essence to the playful action, and this fuels another round of heated kissing, their bodies pushing and pulling, their heavy PDA a thing they’ll be embarrassed for in the morning. For tonight, though, they’re just two people getting drunk on each other in the middle of a train station, as if tomorrow will be the end of world and they’ll cease to exist.

When they pull back for air her lips are lipgloss-free and her eyelids, still closed, are fluttering over scarlet cheekbones. Noah has never witnessed a most beautiful sight in his life.

Elisabeth gets on the train with a dazed and dazzling smile, promising to text him when she arrives at her apartment. They refuse to let go of each other’s eyes until the train vanishes into the dark tunnel and Noah is left there, on the empty station, a finger reaching to his lips, not quite believing that the fruity taste of lipgloss that still lingers in his mouth or the woman whose lips left their trace behind are real and not a product of his wildest fantasies. There’s an extra hop in his steps as he walks up the stairs to catch the train to the opposite direction, boarding the vehicle at the last minute and sliding quickly on a seat, lovesick smile intact and a newfound feeling of contentment and thrill nested in his chest.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and types, unable to wait any longer.

I get back early on Sunday. Would you like to have dinner with me?

[underthewingsofthblackeagle]

After her marriage with Frank Randall has failed and Claire Beauchamp flees from her violent husband, she finds refuge in the house of the Fraser/Murray family in Berlin-Wilhelmshorst. But then tensions arise between Britain (which has since left the EU) and some EU member states. All holders of an English passport are required to leave EU territory within six weeks … and suddenly Claire’s fate looks more uncertain than ever.

This story was written for the #14DaysofOutlander event, hosted by @scotsmanandsassenach​

Note: This chapter contains references to domestic violence and suicidal thoughts. If these things trigger something in you, please skip this chapter.

Chapter 3: 14 Seconds (1)

         Etienne Marcel de Provac Alexandre was satisfied. No, Etienne Marcel de Provac Alexandre was not satisfied. He could not be satisfied at all, because in reality he did not exist. It was James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser who was satisfied that Etienne Marcel de Provac Alexandre, his alias, had also successfully completed this assignment. Neither the negotiations nor the conclusion of that special trade agreement with the Argentinians had caused any problems, so he was able to finish his job in the time allotted.

“Buenos Aires - Skyline” by maymuc

         The success with which he had been able to complete his mission helped him to get over the inconvenience of his onward flight to Boston. It took more time for these 8,500 kilometres than for the return flight from Boston to Berlin. So he flew from Buenos Aires-Ezeiza shortly after eight in the evening first to Lima, where he had an 80-minute stopover at the Jorge Chavez International Airport. Then he was able to board a plane that took him from the Peruvian capital to Florida. He used the time on the plane to get some sleep.          When he arrived at Miami International Airport, he first had an extensive breakfast. Then he wandered around a bit, just to move his legs and afterwards he immersed himself in various wine magazines. While he was still reading and waiting for his connecting flight to Boston, an elderly gentleman approached him.          According to his legend, Jamie introduced himself as a French wine merchant who, on behalf of the Berlin-based company "In Vino Veritas - International Wines and Spirits", searched for new wines worldwide or brokered wine sales to partners.          This company - "In Vino Veritas" - really existed. And if anyone should have the idea to make further investigations about the firm, he would find nothing else but a flourishing wine and spirits trade, based in the German capital. Every time James Fraser mentioned this name or passed on his business card bearing this company’s name, he had to force himself not to smile. The irony of this name had made him laugh out loud when Ernst Neuenburger first told him about it. Because there was no truth in the wine that this company sold at all. On the contrary, this wine was nothing but deception. "In Vino Deceptio" would have been the correct name, but for very understandable reasons, that name had not been chosen. Ernst Neuenburger had acknowledged Jamie's loud laughter by saying:

         "Irony is one of the best gifts to survive the challenges of this life."

         The elderly gentleman who approached him at the airport in Miami made a harmless impression. He showed no great interest in the personal background of the person he was talking to, nor in his business relationships. It seemed as if he was simply trying to bridge his own waiting time by philosophizing with someone he liked about a topic in which both were interested. For Jamie, that was o.k.          It was due to his thorough preparation by Ernst Neuenburger's staff that Jamie was not only very well versed in European wines, but also in Australian, New Zealand, North and South American wines and their respective markets. On their behalf, he attended the Austrian Wine Academy and completed his training as a Wine Academician with the Wine Diploma, also known as the "International Wine Specialist". He was thus not only accepted into the "Club of Wine Academics", whose members were active in 41 countries around the world, but also acquired the prerequisites for the "Master of Wine" degree. Jamie was happy to take the trouble of this training, which not only helped him to fulfil his covert mission, but also raised his status in his real business life. The fact that his certificates and diplomas were issued in his alias name and in the name of James Fraser was also taken care of by Neuenburger’s staff.          Etienne Marcel de Provac Alexandre talked for almost an hour with the older American, who introduced himself as Bob Snider ("the one from Boca Raton, not the folk singer from Canada"), mainly about American, French and German wines. Then his flight was called and Etienne Marcel de Provac Alexandre said a hearty farewell to his interlocutor.

“Terminal - Miami International Airport” by Martin St-Amant (S23678) - Eigenes Werk, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6281155

         When James Fraser took his seat on the plane that was supposed to take him (finally!) to his next destination, he first wrote down the content of his conversation with "Bob Snider" and all the details he could remember about the man he had spoken to. The senior may have been harmless, but the mere fact that a stranger had come to speak to him obliged him to report this contact to his employer.          It was shortly after three in the afternoon when his plane landed at Logan International Airport. He took a taxi to the hotel where "In Vino Veritas" had booked the so-called "Boston Studio" for him. When he entered the room, he had to smile. The arrangement of the furniture in the various hotels around the world amazed him again and again. Here, it was the mixture of modern furniture and furniture trimmed on old that made him shake his head slightly. He would never really feel comfortable in such a mixture. But maybe it was better that way. The discomfort he felt in such rooms made him want to return home all the more. All that mattered to James Fraser was that the hotels booked for him had a fitness area that was open 24 hours a day. And that's exactly where he went after having a light dinner in the hotel restaurant that evening. One hour of workout and a long shower later he returned to his rooms where he went over the planning for the next day. Twenty minutes later James Fraser, alias Etienne Marcel de Provac Alexandre, sank into his bed and fell asleep contentedly.

“Luftbild des Hafens von Boston” by ArnoldReinhold - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=83686125

         Just a few blocks away from Fraser's hotel, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Randall was lying in the bed of her conjugal bedroom. Tears were streaming down her face and wetting her pillow. Although she had been lying under her warm blanket for more than half an hour, she trembled all over her body as if she were standing outside the house on a frosty winter's night without a coat.          Behind her lay another evening of arguments, insults and humiliation. Frank, her husband for almost 10 years, had left the house at some point in a rage. She knew that he would now be sitting and drinking in one of the nearby bars. If he picked up any woman who wanted to spend the night with him, he was never expected to come home soon. But if he left  the bar empty-handed, he would return ‘home’ and the night could turn out even darker.          Frank Randall could not find a woman that night who would voluntarily share a cheap hotel bed with him. He returned to the house he and his wife had once called ‘home’. That night, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Randall's worst fears came true.

         The next morning, James Fraser woke up well rested and full of energy. His first course, after a brief visit to the bathroom, took him back to the hotel gym and then to the shower. Just as he was getting dressed for the new day, the room service brought the "Continental Breakfast" that he had ordered the night before. He had breakfast, reading on his tablet the various international newspapers whose online editions he had subscribed to. Exactly the peaceful and quiet morning time, as he appreciated it.          There were still four hours to go before his next appointment, a business lunch with “Paul Smith”. That man was also on Ernst Neuenburger’s payroll but had a completely different legend. Jamie had decided to use this time to have a look around the area of his hotel. The hotel's limousine service first took him to Paul Revere's house, and an hour later he was driven from there to the Old North Church. He would also have liked to visit the Museum of Fine Arts, but there was not enough time left and so he let his driver take him to the steakhouse where he should meet "Paul Smith".          When he arrived there, his "business partner" was already sitting at the table reserved for them. The men, who had never seen each other in person before, greeted each other like long-time friends. No one would have suspected that they knew each other only from photos that Ernst Neuenburger had placed quite innocently in the advertisements of a wine magazine some time before. They ate and drank and had lively conversations (and for those sitting nearby with ears too big) about current trends in the wine scene, prices, order quantities and shipping options. At the end of the extensive business dinner, they signed each other's contracts, both of whom knew that they would never experience any real economic development, and then toasted each other loudly with champagne to this glorious "business deal". Shortly before three o'clock in the afternoon, "Etienne" and "Paul", who called each other by their first names only and addressed each other as "brother", left the restaurant. Their sunny mood was in stark contrast to the dull, autumnal weather that swept over the city of Boston that afternoon.          Paul waved at a passing taxi and got in. Jamie waited for the limousine service, which was parked a bit far away, and due to the rather cold weather was quite happy that the car started moving in his direction immediately.          While he was still waiting, his eyes fell on an advertising flyer, which was driven across the sidewalk by a light wind. A name that was emblazoned on this flyer caught his attention. It was the name of a painter - Gerhard Richter. Jamie not only admired the paintings of the professor, who had taught painting at the Art Academy in Düsseldorf from 1971 to 1993 and whose works were among the most important and expensive of any living German artist. He was also fascinated by his life story, to which Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck had set a monument in his film "Never look away" (”Werk ohne Autor”). Without thinking for long, Jamie bent down and picked up the flyer. Still in the car he began to read. A small gallery not far from his hotel advertised an exhibition documenting Richter's life and work. Jamie put the flyer in his left breast pocket. He would love to spend part of his free evening visiting this exhibition. But now he had to hurry, because a small, private teleconference with the "managing director" of "In Vino Veritas" was scheduled for three o'clock in the afternoon local time, and he didn't want to be late. 

         While Etienne Marcel de Provac Alexandre reported to his boss in faraway Berlin about the successfully concluded contracts with "Paul Smith", Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Randall made her way through her neighbourhood. Although the weather was unusually cold for the time of year, with 13.8 degrees Celsius, she could no longer bear to stay in her "home" after everything that had happened the previous night. At first she had thought of going to a nearby café that she visited regularly in the past. But the thought of having to sit on a hard wooden chair had made her refrain from doing so. Not far away there was also a church that she had visited repeatedly and the fact that the pews were furnished with soft seat cushions lead her steps hopefully towards this building. But her hope was to be disappointed. On the - closed - main portal there was a handwritten notice that on that day the doors of the church would stay closed due to a sudden illness of the sexton. Resigned, she turned around. Where could she go now? Her gaze fell on a small gallery that was open until six o'clock in the evening. That was still three hours away. Three hours in which she could look at the pictures there, or sit down in front of one of the works of art. Three hours in which nobody would approach her or ask her about anything. Three hours in which she could think about her next steps in peace. Somehow she had to find a way out of this misery. But she did not know how. Only one thing she knew with one hundred percent certainty: She would never return to Frank Randall. Not a single moment would she voluntarily stay in the presence of this monster again. She would rather put an end to her miserable existence. Claire had already thought about this once before. Back then, on 31 May 2018, when Longfellow Bridge was reopened after five years of repairs. But when she stood on top of the bridge, she was not sure whether a jump from there would bring the longed-for end to her agony. She had turned away and had returned. Returned to her life with Frank, whom she knew was cheating on her regularly. Returned to a life of lies. Returned to a life where she tried to numb all her pain with alcohol and pills. But if her experience had shown one thing, it was that no drug in the world could cover those wounds, especially not those that Frank had inflicted on her the previous night. Something had to happen. 

 “Ausstellung” by beludise          Twenty minutes before 4:00 pm Jamie had finished the conference call. Through one of the windows of his room he looked outside and noticed that the sky was darkening. A strong wind had come up and rain began to patter against the windows. But even if the thunderstorm was about to start, he would not be deterred from visiting the small gallery whose flyer he still carried with him. He dialed the number of the reception and ordered the limousine service again.          On the way to the lobby of the hotel he thought about how much he would have loved to get in touch with Jenny, Ian and the kids via video conference. But that was not possible. The chance of endangering himself, his job and possibly his family was too great. But it would not be long before he would finally see them again. The following evening his flight left and the following day, with a small detour via the headquarters of "In Vino Veritas", he would arrive back home and see them all again. He was already looking forward to it very much. For him, his family was the most valuable earthly possession and he wished for nothing more than to be able to start a family himself one day. Up to now he had always pushed that thought away. While he was still living in Scotland, the administration of his parents' estate and the political activities took up all his time and energy. Moreover, he would not have wanted any women to be the wife of a man who was a convicted traitor, being held in a London high-security prison and therefore not able to provide for his family. But more important than this was the fact that he had not yet met "the" woman with whom he really wanted to spend his whole life and with whom he wanted to start a family. When he entered the foyer and the receptionist told him that his limousine had just arrived, James Fraser had no idea that he was less than an hour away from that very encounter.          Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp Randall had entered the gallery, paid the entrance fee and accepted an exhibition guide, which she had immediately stowed in her handbag. She had wandered aimlessly through the rooms until she found a small bench in one of the back exhibition rooms. It stood in front of a picture showing an older man with glasses, standing in front of a reddish wall. But she only took note of it peripherally. Much more important in her present situation was that there was soft upholstery on the bench. Carefully she sat down on it and yet the pain went through all her limbs.

         When Jamie's limousine stopped at the curb in front of the gallery entrance, it had already begun to rain in torrents. The sky had darkened to black and now and then a loud roll of thunder could be heard. Carl, the limousine driver, parked near the entrance and then quickly jumped out of the car with a large black umbrella bearing the logo and name of the hotel in golden letters. He opened the door on the rear passenger side and held the umbrella so that Jamie could get out without getting wet. The chauffeur accompanied him the few steps to the gallery, then quickly hurried back to the limousine where he would wait for the guest to return.          As soon as he had entered, Jamie was greeted by a friendly member of the gallery staff. He paid the entrance fee and received the exhibition catalogue. Then he slowly started his way through the exhibition. It took him about forty minutes to reach the back room of the gallery. Already from a distance he saw the well-known photo that showed the painter in front of his famous work "Wall". Only once had Richter had himself photographed in front of this work. This photo had then adorned the title page of the art magazine "art".

“Locken” by KRiemer         In front of exactly this two-meter by two-meter picture sat a petite woman, whose head was surrounded by an only slightly tamed, dark brown mass of curls. Carefully and anxious to make as little noise as possible, Jamie approached her with some distance. A few minutes passed, then he heard the woman sniffing softly. She opened her handbag and was obviously looking for a handkerchief in a hurry. Jamie reached into the right pocket of his jacket and pulled out a pack of Tempo tissues, which he opened and held out to the unknown woman.

         "Please, take one of these.”          The woman turned her head up to him and looked at him with big amber eyes, red from weeping. Later, James Fraser would tell again and again how  those first 14 seconds, when he looked into the most beautiful eyes in the world, decided his future path of life.

[kuningannasansa]

A musketeers rewatch (that nobody asked for) 1x07

Here we go, my least favorite episode of the whole show excluding season three which I didn’t watch! If you have even a passing fondness for Ninon, I suggest you look away :)

We start with a royal procession through the crowd and there are quite a lot of waving people there. If they can fill the streets with extras for scenes like that, why can those same extras not be used for the court scenes?

Priest whose name I have forgotten is being robbed. The musketeers rush in to help. 

Meanwhile, a crazy girl tries to get close to the queen and ends up being ran over by her carriage. If this is meant to be some Emily Davison analogy, it sucks!

The dead lunatic’s name is Therese and she wanted to give the Queen a note. Constance takes it and says “Fleur, what does this mean?” Am I supposed to take from that that she cannot read for herself? Cause a merchant’s wife definitely, definitely would know how to do that. 

Fleur is nowhere to be seen, however.

“This is an age of glorious discovery!” says Ninon. “Galileo observes the moons of Jupiter... But what is the role of women in this age of wonder?” - well, gee, i don’t know Ninon. Maybe you could have mentioned some female scientists of the era in addition to Galileo? Catherine de Parthenay, anyone? Or Marie Fouquet? Hell, Ninon de l'Enclos, my atheist queen, for whom this Ninon is doubtless named, was a notable woman in her own right! But no, we have to make women look more oppressed than they actually were to make this waste of space look more awesome. 

“My women of Paris, seek your own enlightenment!” - wrong era!

Therese, an orphan from a humble background, wanted to hand a petition to the queen about women’s education.  

“If she was an illiterate orphan she could not have written this. It is misguided but not unintelligent.” - says Richelieu. And indeed he turns out to be right. She didn’t write it. Which is fucking bizarre. 

Anne asks him if he doesn’t favor women’s education and he replies: “I admire learning wherever it is to be found, but this amounts to an attack on the authority of church and state.” Any French history buff know what the actual Richelieu’s thought of women’s education? @tatzelwyrm​? I’m gonna start a biography on him soon, but not until I’m done with this rewatch.

Ninon barges in past the guards and yells “stay out of my way, I will address the King!”. I’m sure this is meant to make her look badass, but she just comes across like a complete idiot who doesn’t understand that she would do better to follow court protocol, no matter how much she might dislike it, if she wants to achieve her goals.    

Luckily for her she’s pretty, so the king doesn’t mind.

“I want to know why this tragedy happened. If your guards are to blame I want them punished.” And then she gives Treville a dirty look! How dare you, you waste of skin and oxygen! Don’t you dare blame Treville for this mess! 

“You knew this lunatic?” - lmao, Richelieu!

Therese was the daughter of Ninon’s servant whom Ninon decided to educate. So she was educated, she COULD have written the petition herself. But she did not. Because when Richelieu says “she wrote this and was killed trying to give it to the Queen” Ninon screeches: “Don’t be ridiculous! She didn’t write it, I did!” And I mean, who exactly is looking down on servant girls here and saying it’s ridiculous to expect them to write something intelligent. It’s not Richelieu. 

But more importantly, WHY?? If Ninon wrote it, why couldn’t she hand it to the Queen? Why did this poor girl have to die? This is so, so stupid! I mean, okay, maybe Therese heard Ninon speak well of the queen and got the idea to hand her the petition on her own, without being told by Ninon to do so. But why did she have it in the first place, if it’s Ninon’s petition?

“Apparently the Comtesse de Laroque believes herself above the normal laws and conventions of society.” ´- well that’s an understatement.  

“The treasury is bankrupt and the country needs a new navy. Ninon has the wealth to provide it.” And that is why Richelieu sends Milady into the salon to find something to use against her. These two are so good in this, I love their scenes together! Pity about the rest of the episode. 

Richelieu is now freaking out about lesbians and Milady is just like “really, dude? really?”. I love her!

“Ninon must pay up or face destruction, I want every last penny from her!” - so it was not his intention to kill her, just to get the money. Interesting.

Fleur’s father is Bonacieux’s cousin. I love that, the commoners having family connections and support circles of their own.

The robbed priest is called Luca! Richelieu is “delighted to see him”, apparently, cause they’re old friends. And Louis isn’t, because he wrote a pamphlet arguing that Kings should bow down to the Pope’s authority. 

“We can’t have a comtesse abducting young women and spiriting them away to her boudoir!” - Oh, Richelieu! Do calm down.

It’s odd watching Richelieu try to use homosexuality to take Ninon down while shipping Trevilieu thou. 

Athos barges into Ninon’s salon, demanding to know where Fleur is and Milady very discreetly hides behind a pillar. Lol! 

And Ninon starts hitting on Athos immediately. She tells him that she’s often thought he’s handsome but the “melancholy aspect” to his looks is “probably only mental vacancy”. Who taught you how to flirt? Why must you be so abrasive and confrontational all the time? Like really, I get she’s meant to be a Strong Woman Who Don’t Take No Shit TM, but she just comes across like a loudmouth. 

Athos likes it thou!

“Forgive our intrusion-” “I will not forgive it!” - Jesus Ninon, it’s just a figure of speech, a polite gesture. People use these in conversation sometimes. She’s so unnecessarily rude smh.

Aramis says he “gladly acknowledges the superiority of the female sex” and I throw up in my mouth a little. That’s not feminism, that’s slimy!

D’artagnan: “If that wasn’t flirting, I don’t know what is.”  Porthos: “Rubbish! She can’t stand him.”  Aramis: “One day I’ll sit down and explain women to you.” - cause we’re all the same and no means yes, right writers?

Luca: “His holiness is concerned about the direction of French foreign policy.” Richelieu: “Well the pope is Spain’s performing monkey.” - he really is so funny! I know I keep saying that, but he is!

Also, YAY politics! Intelligent dialogue! I love this scene so much!

“In matters of religion I defer to Rome, in all else I am my country’s servant” - lol, Richelieu inventing the separation of church and state

Luca: “Is this your final word on the subject?” Richelieu: “It is.” - and that right there is where Luca decides to kill him. The actor plays it really well, knowing it’s coming I can see the briefest moment of regret in his eyes, but without hindsight I wouldn’t notice anything. And he gives Richelieu the poisoned gift. 

Also, isn't it the same guy who plays Margaret’s new man in Harlots? 

Athos says that Therese and Fleur were so far below Ninon in status that they were not in a position to make choices of their own free will. Which is fuckign stupid. But Ninon saying that she views all women as equal regardless of their birth is equally moronic. I mean, sure, they should be, but in reality they’re not and ignoring that doesn’t help anyone. And Athos does point out that Ninon’s money and position gives her certain privileges, but it sits wrong coming from him and not from Porthos or Milady or Constance, who are from poor/less wealthy backgrounds. That said, this is still one of the few semi intelligent scenes in this whole episode, so whatever. At least someone said it. 

Now she kisses him and invites him to dine! And he just looks sad.

Luca tells Richelieu to “deal with” Ninon “firmly”, cause the Pope is dying and Richelieu could be the next Pope if he shows himself a strong defender of the church against “heresy”. What heresy thou? Women learning to read? Lol, that’s so cartoonishly evil and ahistorical, but whatever. This at least explains where Richelieu’s desire to have her burned came from.

Richelieu: “I wouldn’t go so far as to call her a heretic.” Luca: “A woman who openly defies God's laws, what other word is there?” - what laws thou? what has she done, other than hold some salon meetings, as every other noblewoman was doing at the time?

Richelieu promises to consider his options and Luca tells him to pray to the poisoned bone for guidance, lol.

This right here is Richelieu letting personal feelings cloud his judgement, thou! Which he said he has learned no to do. But he allows himself to be carried away with visions of becoming Pope and honestly I don’t see how he can possibly believe that could happen with his foreign policy and how hated he is by the Vatican, as stated in this very scene.  

Milady and Ninon! I love that scene! Ninon clearly thinks she’s super special because she “takes the initiative” by kissing men instead of waiting to be kissed. She’s so damn smug about it! And Milady is just like “oh I could never be so bold” and I swear I can hear her laughing internally! 

And she very cleverly charms Fleur’s location out of Ninon!

Athos’s idea of a first date is the morgue. Charming.

Athos saying that Ninon is responsible for what happened to Therese because she gave a lowborn girl an education doesn’t sit well with me. Classist ass! But she is responsible for not thinking of Therese beyond how daring and adventurous and fun and positively scandalous it would be to educate a servant girl and then not bothering to care for her when she got bored. Cause if she had done, Therese could have come to her with her plan and she could have prevented her death. Because yes, regardless of her education, her background predisposed Therese to be naive about the King and Queen and how petitions work. Where was Ninon in all this, when a girl under her charge decided to do this foolish thing that cost her her life? Because if you want to be someone’s teacher you do have a duty of care. In short, Ninon is a classist ass as well! They’re perfect for each other!

So Luca’s stolen bag is in the morgue with the body of the thief who stole it. And Athos promises to send for it in the morning. I know it’s CSI: Musketeers and all, but why was it not delivered to Luca the moment it was found, lol? He’s a pretty important guest at the palace and it’s his property. 

Athos agrees with Ninon that marriage is a curse. LOL!

Ninon’s reason for not marrying is that she does not want a husband to own her wealth and body. Makes sense and that’s why many independently wealthy women chose to stay unmarried. Just pointing out the few things that make sense.

“You are a rebellious woman” - oh good, we managed to squeeze the title of the episode into the dialogue! 

Aramis just tossed a red guard out of Ninon’s house. Can’t tell if he’s dead or not, but certainly unconscious. 

There’s fighting. The red guards have swords, the musketeers have books. Athos screams “where is your authority for this!?!” - well, the Cardinal, I’d assume, since they are his guards. Oh bear of very little brain!

Fleur and some other runaway girls are found sleeping in a secret chamber and Ninon is arrested for abducting them.

Athos is all like “you said she wasn’t here” and Ninon tries to explain that Fleur did not want to be found and begs “make them stop” to which Athos replies “sorry, I can’t”, his voice and face making it very clear that he doesn’t want to. Because a woman lied to him! This is the worst crime! Really Ninon is lucky she’s being arrested right now, otherwise she’d end up swinging from a tree.

“Four young women! In their nightwear! I can only speculate as to the horrors they have endured!” - Richelieu really has a bee in his bonnet about lesbians. The days before p*rnhub must have been hard for a catholic cardinal. 

Luca is even worse thou! “Your majesty is joking but Satan is real! And his female familiars are everywhere amongst us.” Jesus christ guys, calm down! Have a wank or something!

“She had the girls, she lied, she brought her fate on herself.” - Oh shut up Athos! Not everything is about you and your relationship issues! As Aramis points out. Thank you, Aramis! And I never believed I’d ever say that.

Ninon/Aramis  > > > > > > > > > > Ninon/Athos

Aramis gives Ninon the cross Anne gave him. This is quite sweet!

“It’s not so easy when you don’t have money” Constance says and she is right. But it’s like the show is saying that the only way women can be independant is if they are independently wealthy like Ninon. But that’s not really true, Fleur could get a job such as a seamstress or pharmacist or grain merchant or actress or even as a secretary now that she knows latin and greek thanks to Ninon. Women did have jobs in 17th century France and even belonged to guilds etc. Not saying that Fleur would not be more financially secure still with a husband, but if she really doesn’t want that she has options and I don’t like how this supposed “feminist” episode constantly erases women’s actual history. 

Fleur’s father rages “what does she need an education for? She’ll be a seamstress until she’s married and then she’ll be a dutiful wife and mother.” But if he is Bonacieux’s cousin then they are in the same social class, that is to say, the merchant class. And merchant women had to keep their husbands’ shops when their husbands were away. They needed to know how to read and write and do sums. They needed this to be an attractive marriage prospect to a husband of their own social class! 

And the father wants to hit Fleur and D’artagnan all heroically threatens him. How boring!

Richelieu: “Many of our young women are educated. It’s not something we’re ashamed of.” Fleur: “Not just embroidery and sewing.”  Me: “WELL OF COURSE NOT!!!”

Then Fleur says Ninon taught them the “secrets of our bodies” and Richelieu is a hound on the scent!

“Be quiet or you’ll be gagged!” - Again Armand, this is neither the time nor the place to indulge your kinks. 

ENTER MILADY! 

She does such a brilliant job of her testimony! This is again her lying about rape and I talked about before why that is bad, but in this case I don’t mind cause it’s for state reasons and doesn’t in any way invalidate her own story the way the thing with D’artagnan does.

Athos completely LOSES HIS SHIT!! Not doing the defence any good there, buddy!

The look she gives him as she walks out is priceless!

Queen Anne to the rescue, bringing clemency from Louis! Clever girl, must have manipulated it out of him! Season 1 Anne was intelligent.

And Ninon ruins it by saying: “I have never consorted with the devil until this moment. I am looking at him.” To which Richelieu replies: “Condemned from her own mouth.” As any person with half a brain would. Jesus christ Ninon, you should have been gagged! For your own safety! 

And then Richelieu stops breathing! And we get Treville’s reaction to it, thank you camera people! Thou Treville mostly just looks confused, like “what is that drama queen doing now?” 

Now he’s twitching! And I’m sorry but it looks hilarious.

Aramis carries him to bed on his back and puts a hand over his mouth. I’m not sure that helps with the breathing issues... 

Louis pushes Aramis out of the way and cries “please don’t die! please don’t die!” aawwwwwwwwwww!

Aramis really saves his life here, huh.

Anne is briefly jealous about the cross and asks Aramis if Ninon is his lover. Lol! She never expected him to stalk her for the rest of her life, she fully expected him to keep lovers.  

Luca: “Satan turned his blood to acid at her command!” Porthos: “We’ll add Satan to the list of suspects.”

Fleur: “You think I poisoned him?” Constance: “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard even by musketeer standards.” - THANK YOU CONSTANCE!

Fleur is to be married to a 40 year old butcher. Poor girl!

“Was it you?” - LOL!

“Half the doctors say you’re doomed, the other half claim you’ll make a full recovery. There’s a lot of professional pride at stake.” - Milady is very funny too! But I’ve always known that! 

“Whatever happens to me, I want you to extract this confession from Ninon.” - translation: it doesn’t matter if I die, the main thing is that France gets that navy. For France, always. I’m amazed by how much he trusts Milady here thou.

Milady thinks the kneebone of St. Anthony is gross and “as much use as the doctors”. Bless her!

Constance very sweetly talks Fleur’s father out of forcing her to marry. Go Constance!

Ninon: “There is nothing worse than a woman who betrays her own sex” Milady: “I can think of a few things, but let’s not argue.” - THIS!! This is my favorite part of this whole miserable episode, because yes, with her background she can think of things Ninon couldn’t possibly imagine. It’s also a fuck you to that “don’t encourage girl on girl hate” line terfs and white feminists always hide behind when they get called out on their bullshit, though this wasn’t the point here. I love how she doesn’t even explain, too. Let’s not argue, cause what’s the point. You’ll never get it.

I do want to stress that Ninon is not wrong for educating other women and she has been unjustly condemned (althou I would argue that she might not have drawn Richelieu’s ire if she went about it in a more subtle, less smug way, for the safety of the girls she teaches if not for her own). But Milady is employed by the First Minister of France and is doing her job here, a job which she depends upon for her own independence and safety. As she says, Ninon didn’t do anything to her, she’s just a victim of circumstance. 

“If you don’t confess, the women of your salon will burn in your place. Surely you wish to save the lives of your accomplices in Satan?” - Milady does a good job of selling it, but if you think about it, that makes no sense. These women have already been publicly proclaimed Ninon’s victims. And if they have legal trouble with burning her alone, how would they manage a whole bunch of them, most of whom are also high ranking noblewomen?

Ninon falls for it thou. Fail!

Richelieu orders Ninon burned and Milady says that the Queen and King won’t like it. Richelieu replies that: “she’s irrelevant and a new navy will soothe his dismay.” He’s really underestimating season 1 Anne here. But season 2 will prove him right, sadly.

“The kingdom of heaven is a dream. Our only life is here.” - Go Milady!

Richelieu says he won’t burn her for heresy but to be careful cause “one day someone else might” and idk, but it comes across like pretty friendly advice, considering what he’s currently doing with Ninon. 

Now he worries he might go to hell! And Milady says he’s already there, lmaoo! I LOVE THIS SCENE!!

They go to the morgue to retrieve Luca’s bag and discover that the thief was poisoned in the same manner as the Cardinal. Thus the plot is uncovered.

“Open his mouth!” “You open his mouth!”

Luca kills a red guard and is about to kill Richelieu (who fights him with a fork!) when the musketeers burst in. And Richelieu curses them for being late!

Richelieu had apparently worked out that it was Luca who was trying to kill him at some point during the night. No idea how. 

Athos begs for Ninon’s life while the pire is already burning. And Richelieu agrees cause burning her is all very “dark ages”, like he said to begin with. He says he’s not a cruel man, just a practical one. But practicality sometimes requires cruelty. He’s not a sadist thou, that’s what he meant and that’s true. 

Athos drags Ninon off the burning pire. So the great feminist character got duped by Milady and then had to be rescued by her love interest. So good, much feminist. 

“As far as the world is concerned, Comtesse Ninon de Laroque died on that pire today.” Richelieu takes her lands, her property and her money and sends her into exile. Then he threatens to execute her if she ever tells anyone the truth of what happened.

“My voice will never be silenced, but I promise you will never hear it.” - the stupidest line of the whole episode and that’s saying something. Seriously, what does this mean? Your voice was silenced! Richelieu got your wealth which you could have used to educate more women. You were completely defeated. Like really, who is the idiot who wrote this? And what made them think this is in any way empowering or even just a satisfactory conclusion to Ninon’s acr?? Ughhhh!!

I do love Richelieu and Milady getting a rare victory thou! 

“Nothing, no person, no nation, no god will stand in my way.” - HOT!

Aramis gets his cross back lol. Otherwise it would have burned. 

Lmao, Richelieu sends Luca’s ashes to rome with a threat to the Pope.

And Capaldi pronounces “Richelieu” in a very strange way. 

Milady: “You do realise you’ll never be Pope?” Richelieu: “It’s an Italian club and largely a clerical position. I prefer something with a little more influence.” - L! O! L!

Ninon plans to open a school for poor girls and be a teacher. Well, idk, I hope she does a better job of it than she did with Therese.

Athos asks Ninon if “Madame de la Chapelle” ever told her anything about herself. And Ninon is like “so you did know her after all?” and he says “in another life” and she warns him to be careful because she has the cardinal’s protection so “a blow against her is a blow against him” and idk, does she realize that Milady was Athos’s wife here? Is that how I’m supposed to read it? He did tell her before that he used to be married.

Then she kisses him and tells him she could have loved a man like him. And she’s just way more into him than he is into her.

Lmaooo, Fleur is not forced to marry and can continue with her education and she’s “sure” that the woman who convinced her father was Ninon. And Constance doesn’t correct her and doesn’t even want the credit, but I’m mad lol, as if Ninon even remembers you exist Fleur!

D’artagnan gives Constance the credit, at least! And then comes his declaration of love, which is actually very sweet and I really liked them together in season 1! Constance is so beautiful in this scene too! It’s very well lit and she’s wearing that lovely dress!

Aaaaand we fade to black on some PG13 kissing and groping! Sorry, this was very long, but there was a lot to complain about.

In conclusion, awful! Like, the thing that bothers me the most is that this token girl power episode would not even have been radical in 1970, never mind today. The message is simply that women should have an education, which no sane person today would disagree with. It’s very safe and bland. And erases women’s real history in the process. It’s almost as if these male writers are congratulating themselves “weren’t things ever so bad Back Then, we are so much more progressive now”, instead of doing the truly radical thing and showing women’s real history, showing women in positions of power running their literary salons and not getting burned for it, showing women as independent businesswomen with an education! Why not give Bonacieux a female rival in the cloth business? Why not go deeper than “women are human beings” and give the episode a truly radical message that still resonates today. After all, we might be ever so educated now but it’s not like women have achieved equality. More on that in this old post: https://kuningannasansa.tumblr.com/post/126434697304/the-problem-of-ninon 

Anyway, I really hope the next episode will be better! 

Red Guards killed: 1 or 2, impossible to really tell

Ladies killed: Therese

Best Dressed: Ninon. She did have some pretty dresses. 

[pope-francis-quotes]

26th April >> (@VaticanNews) #PopeFrancis As #Pope Francis invites everyone to pray the #Rosary throughout May, we explore the dedication of various Popes through the centuries to this ancient devotion.

The Popes and the Rosary

This May, during the month dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, Pope Francis has invited the faithful to renew their love for the Most Holy Rosary, a prayer fully immersed in the Gospel. In this article, Vatican News looks at the dedication of various Popes throughout the centuries to this ancient devotion.

John Charles Putzolu

It is necessary to go back to the 15th century to Pope Sixtus IV to find when the Rosary was officially approved by the Catholic Church. The practice probably originated with the Cistercians in the two previous centuries as an aid for illiterate people. The recitation of prayers and psalms in succession, gradually became a series of 150 Hail Marys. Greeting Mary so many times was compared to offering her a wreath of roses, the “Rosary”.

The Rosary over two centuries

Promoted by the Dominicans in the 15th century, the Rosary took the form of a meditation on the life of Christ, while the Our Father and the Hail Marys were recited. In the 16th century, the Dominican theologian, Antonio Ghislieri, who became Pope St Pius V, structured the Rosary around 15 mysteries. On 7 October 1571, he instituted the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary.

John Paul II in 2002 completed the Rosary with five new mysteries: The Luminous Mysteries were added to the Joyful, Sorrowful and Glorious mysteries.

Between 1571 and 2002, the Popes never ceased to encourage the recitation of the Rosary. In September 1893, in the Encyclical Laetitiae sanctae, Leo XIII stated that he was “convinced that the Rosary, if devoutly used, is bound to benefit not only the individual but society at large”, whose evils he denounced at the dawn of the second Industrial Revolution, which was deepening the imbalance between the social classes.

Prayer in difficult times

Pius XI foresaw the wave of National Socialism (Nazism) and Stalinism coming. In 1937, two years before the beginning of the Second World War, in his Encyclical Ingravescentibus malis, he observed that if the people of the twentieth century, “with its derisive pride, refuse the Rosary, there is an innumerable multitude of holy men of every age and every condition who have always held it dear”. He addresses the faithful, asking them to recite the Rosary at home so that “the enemies of the divine name (...) may be finally bent and led to penance and return to the straight path, trusting to the care and protection of Mary”.

Pius XI added: “The Holy Rosary, besides, not only serves admirably to overcome the enemies of God and Religion, but is also a stimulus and spur to the practice of evangelic virtues which it injects and cultivates in our souls”.

John XXIII recites the Rosary for new-borns

On May 4, 1963, while the Church was engaged in the Second Vatican Council, St John XXIII welcomed the first Italian Living Rosary pilgrimage, during which “Good Pope John” met many sick children. “You are dear to us, like the apple of our eyes,” the Supreme Pontiff said to them. “You are dear to us above all because, with the natural liveliness of your years, you are little children who pray,” he told them. He praised their “commitment to recite at least one decade of the Holy Rosary every day,” adding that a day without prayer is like “a sky without sun, a garden without flowers”.

Already in 1961, an attachment to the Apostolic Letter Il religioso convegno, noted that St John, in his daily Rosary, prayed for babies born in the past 24 hours, as he recited the third decade of the Joyful mysteries. He offered the “ten Hail Marys” in order to “recommend to Jesus all children born (...) from all human lineages, who, (...) by night, by day, have come into the world on the whole surface of the earth”.

In the Encyclical Grata recordatio of 1959, John XXIII encouraged daily recitation of the Rosary, affirming that the Rosary is an excellent means of meditative prayer, which, he said, “We never fail to recite it each day in its entirety”. He invited the faithful to pray the Rosary for the upcoming Ecumenical Council (Vatican II) and for “the renewed vigour of all the Christian virtues” expected of the Church.

In the wake of the Council, Pope St Paul VI dedicated an Apostolic Exhortation entitled Marialis cultus to Marian veneration in which he “intended to encourage the restoration, in a dynamic and more informed manner, of the recitation of the Rosary”. He also emphasized “the importance of a further essential element in the Rosary, in addition to the value of the elements of praise and petition, namely the element of contemplation. Without this the Rosary is a body without a soul, and its recitation is in danger of becoming a mechanical repetition of formulas”. St Paul VI goes on “to recommend strongly the recitation of the family Rosary”.

John Paul II’s favourite prayer

St. John Paul II, who himself was deeply devoted to the Virgin Mary (Totus Tuus was his episcopal motto), encouraged the recitation of the Rosary many times during the 27 years of his pontificate. In 2002 he published an Apostolic Letter dedicated specifically to the Rosary, Rosarium Virginis Mariae. In it, he described the Rosary as a prayer which “in the sobriety of its elements” concentrates “all the depth of the Gospel message in its entirety”, and through which “the faithful receive abundant grace, as though from the very hands of the Mother of the Redeemer”. St John Paul II explains that in his youth he always gave an important place to this prayer, which was his favourite. He had already confessed this in 1978 two weeks after his election. It was in this Letter that he proclaimed the year of the Rosary from October 2002 to October 2003, inviting the faithful to “contemplate with Mary the face of Christ”.

At the dawn of the third millennium, the Polish Pope stressed “the urgent need to counter a certain crisis of the Rosary, which in the present historical and theological context can risk being wrongly devalued, and therefore no longer taught to the younger generation”. Concerned then by the critical situation of the family “increasingly menaced by forces of disintegration on both the ideological and practical planes”, he proposed the Rosary as “an effective aid to countering the devastating effects of this crisis typical of our age”.

The New Springtime of the Rosary

Benedict XVI, too, wished to revitalize the recitation of the Rosary: “The Holy Rosary is not a pious practice banished to the past, like prayers of other times thought of with nostalgia,” he said at the end of his prayer at the Roman Basilica of Saint Mary Major on 3 May 2008. “Instead, the Rosary is experiencing a new Springtime”, he said. “Without a doubt, this is one of the most eloquent signs of love that the young generation nourish for Jesus and his Mother, Mary. In the current world, so dispersive, this prayer helps to put Christ at the centre”.

Three years earlier, in a Message to young Catholics in the Netherlands, he wrote that “The recitation of the Rosary can help you learn the art of prayer with Mary's simplicity and depth”. During an Audience in May 2006, Benedict XVI invited the faithful “to intensify the pious practice of the Holy Rosary”. He said to young spouses: “I wish you may make use of the recitation of the Rosary in your family as a moment of spiritual growth under the maternal gaze of the Virgin Mary”. Speaking to the sick, he urged them “to turn with trust to Our Lady through this pious exercise, entrusting to her all of your needs”.

Again, difficult times

In October 2018, Pope Francis asked all the faithful to pray the Rosary every day, so that the Virgin Mary may help the Church in a period marked by “the revelation of sexual abuse, power and conscience on the part of clerics, consecrated persons and lay people, causing internal divisions”.

Today Francis renews this invitation on the eve of the Marian month in 2020, in order to contemplate together “the face of Christ with the heart of Mary”. Praying the Rosary “will make us even more united as a spiritual family and will help us overcome this time of trial”, writes the Holy Father as he assures everyone, and especially “those suffering most greatly”, of his prayer.

Topics

POPE FRANCIS

PRAYER

VIRGIN MARY

CATHOLIC CHURCH

25th April 2020, 15:31

[topfygad]

Corfu island – epitomizes the Magic of the Greek Isles

Corfu Ionian Islands The Greek IslandsApril 16, 2020

The reason Corfu is one of the most beautiful islands in Greece is that it one of the greenest, with dense vegetation. The island is located in the Ionian island group, west of the Greek mainland.

Despite the island attracting a lot of visitors, it has retained its wild beauty, making it perfect for hikes along narrow mountain paths and trails. On these walks, you’ll experience the wondrous nature of the island as well as tiny villages, monasteries, monuments and splendid views of the Ionian Sea. The trails are marked by yellow signs and the walks are most times suitable for kids as well. 

Corfu Island: Just so Much Variety

Much of  Corfu is mountainous. In fact, it was during the Middle Ages that the island had the name Corypho which actually means ‘Place with peaks’. It is thought to have been named after the two peaks of the island’s highest mountain Pantokrator. Most places on the island are visible from the mountain peak. 

The beauty of the island isn’t confined to just one part of the island either, and magnificent resorts are  spread around the island. If you had to choose, you might opt for the north of the island as it is more hilly and there are lots of beautiful little bays. 

You’ll be amazed at the crystal clear water and coves. The island has some  217 kilometers of coast, but if you’re not a beach lover, the interior has plenty to offer as well.

A Mix of Sightseeing, Nightlife and Shopping 

If you want a taste of what Corfu is all about, there are many half- and full-day tours for those who want a taste of the place. Corfu is always a popular destination and you can also hire a minibus with driver and enjoy a magical day of sightseeing. A trip like this could include Aqualand, Achilleion Palace, the view of Mouse Island or the must-see monastery at Paleokastritsa, set on a hill about the beach. 

Achilleion Palace

A trip to the old town to explore the fortress and do some shopping has to be on your to-do list as well. Speaking of shopping, for those who want to make waves in Corfu and don’t mind bending their bank balances, there is a never-ending list of must-see and must-do activities. 

Best Time to Visit Corfu

The beauty of visiting the Greek isles is that they are pretty much all-year-around holiday destinations. However, it also depends on what experience you’re looking for.

The climate on Corfu is generally mild with hot and dry Summers and mild winters. The winter may appeal to those who want to avoid the crowds as this is when the island is extremely quiet. Many of the restaurants and hotels actually close.   

January is the coldest month on the island and July and August are the hottest months with temperatures being capable of soaring to 35°C(95°F), with some days becoming even hotter.  With such high temperatures, you’ll want to be on the beach, but you’ll be sharing the sand with plenty of other beach visitors as July and August are the island’s peak tourist times. 

Everything is expensive in Corfu over this peak holiday time. If you visit out of these peak times you can cut down a great deal on your flight and accommodation costs.

How to get to Corfu

Airplane flying over Mouse Island

It is one of the easiest islands to visit from the UK, with direct flights from many of the airports and all flying to Corfu International Airport. Incidentally, the Kanoni area offers excellent views of the airport and it can be quite entertaining watching the planes taking off and landing. 

There are flights every day and all year from Athens to the airport at Corfu. During the island’s high season, there are also charter flights available from all over Europe. 

Book you taxi in advance 

Private airport pickup can be pre-arranged and this will save you all the hassle. You can Book Your Corfu Airport Taxi – to get you directly from the airport straight to your hotel and they usually have the same price of a taxi or a little bit more. The best thing is that even if your flight is delayed, you’ll have no problem as the driver will be monitoring the flight anyway. You will be met by the driver holding a name sign as soon as you come out at the arrivals with a bottle of water and city map.

To get you into the holiday mood, you can catch one of the open ferries or hydrofoils from various ports such as from Paxi, Brindisi, Trieste, Patras or Igoumenitsa.

Getting Around the Island

If you’re a fitness fanatic, you may want to rent a bike on the island as it’s a great, affordable way to see Corfu. There are quite a few bicycle rentals but the one which comes to mind is Corfu Cycles. 

You can rent one of their bikes or even join one of their cycling tours. When you hire a bike from them you get helmet, lock,     repair kit, bottle holder and a safety vest plus roadside assistance which is included in the price. They will also deliver and pick up your bike if needed. 

Buses are another way to get around. The main bus terminal in Corfu is San Rocco Square. The green buses are long-distance and the blue buses are short-distance. Local blue buses depart from the local bus station in Corfu Old Town. Ticket prices are according to the journey length. Tickets can be bought on the bus. You’ll notice that bus services are somewhat reduced over the weekend.

There is also a Day Ticket which costs roughly 5,50 € and which is valid for a day, offering unlimited rides for all destinations.

Car- and scooter rentals are also available. To hire these transport-modes, you have to be 21 years of age. Both cars and bikes can be delivered to where you are staying. 

Shopping in Corfu:

Shops open for business between 8-9 am to 2:30 pm. They close for siesta time, opening doors again at 5:30 pm until 8:30 – 9:00pm. Most shops are closed on Sunday.

Main town in Corfu:

Corfu Town is the capital of the Greek island of Corfu. The Old Town of Corfu city is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It is absolutely beautiful and you’ll love the Venetian architecture found alongside the quaint, winding cobblestone streets. Here are some of the highlights which you should definitely put on your list of places to see:

St. Spyridon Church 

The Saint Spyridon Church is one of the most important landmarks on Corfu. Dedicated to the patron saint of the island, Saint Spyridon, it was built in the 1580s and houses his relics. The beautiful single-nave basilica with its imposing bell tower is visible from various parts of Corfu Old Town. 

The Old Fortress of Corfu 

This imposing Venetian fortress is hard to miss. As it dominates the front part of the Corfu Old Town, this massive fortification plays a crucial role in the history of Corfu.

The entrance to the Old Fortress is located just a short walk from Liston Square and to reach the grounds you must cross a small wooden bridge. From here you can enjoy wonderful views of Corfu’s Old Town. There is also a fabulous lighthouse known as the Sea-Town which offers spectacular views. 

Spianada 

This large square in front of the Corfu Old Town set across from the Old Fortress, is one of the largest squares in Greece. Liston which was build by the French is part of the Spianada square and houses numerous cafes and bars.

Cricket matches used to be played on the Esplanade, the only place in Greece where this sport was played.

Museum of Asian Art 

Located right in the heart of Corfu’s Old Town inside the Palace of St. Michael and St. George it is the only museum in Greece  which is dedicated to the art of Asia and features a remarkable collection of Chinese, Japanese and India art among others. In the summer there are several concerts taking place at the outdoor premises of the museum.

The New Fortress of Corfu

The New Fortress is a Venetian fortification built on the hill of St. Mark in Corfu in several stages.The original structure was completed in the 16th century by a military engineer Ferrante Vitelli and is located across from the Old Fortress. What is visible today inside the fortress are works which were built by the British during their ruling in Corfu. 

Mon Repos Palace 

A neoclassical building set at the east side of Paleopolis, which was Corfu’s ancient city. It was built in 1830 by the British Commissioner Sir Frederick Adam right at the beginning of the Kanoni peninsula opposite the ruins of Paleopolis. It is not as glorious as the Achilleion palace yet it overs spectacular sea views extending all the way to the eastern coast of Corfu island. 

  Nightlife in Corfu:

Corfu is one of the most cosmopolitan of the Greek Islands with a vibrant nightlife. The island is geared towards tourism and it presents its visitors and locals with an excellent line-up of trendy restaurants, bars and nightclubs. 

Most of the pubs and bars open early in the morning and remain so past midnight into the early hours of the morning. The nightlife is offered at lots of different venues, from restaurants to disco clubs to lap dance clubs and pool halls.

The most popular night-life destinations are Kavos, Ipsos, Sidari, Dassia, Glyfada and Paleokastritsa. If loud music, dancing and exotic cocktails are your thing, then Corfu won’t disappoint. 

Fun  & Unique Things to Do in Corfu 

Governor Olive Oil

The Dafnis family has revived the olive oil production on Corfu. The family olive grove is located in Agios Mathaios, where three generations have been cultivating the aged Lianolia variety olive trees in the family grove. Producing a high quality, award winning olive oil, the Governor has quickly gained world recognition as one of the premium olive oil brands in the world.

The passion for what they do is evident from the moment you step foot on their family olive grove, and when meeting the Dafnis brothers I was instantly impressed by their dedication, — it is truly inspiring. This is definitely one of the top experiences on Corfu, which you absolutely shouldn’t miss.

Aqualand

Like all resort islands, Corfu offers tourists and locals unlimited activities to enjoy whether you’re single, a couple, a family or a group. Located on the main road, Aqualand is a must. It is equipped with thrilling slides and pools and is surrounded by beautiful green forests. 

There are free sunbeds and umbrellas and lots of restaurants and cafes to keep visitors fed. Qualified lifeguards make sure everyone has a safe, happy time. For all it offers, it is small wonder it’s known as one of the best waterparks in Europe.

Culinary travel

Greek cuisine is so decadently delicious so that many visitors who have tried it want to know more. Food lovers can get the chance to experience fantastic Greek restaurants and learn to cook at the same time. Ambelonas is more than just a restaurant and vineyard. The owner transformed a small artisan food business into a vineyard, restaurant and a venue for light-hearted, casual cooking classes. 

Cooking classes take place outdoors, under the tree arches where you participate as a cook or you can just watch. You’ll learn how to make Zucchini pie and Sofrito cooked with white wine and lots of garlic. The Ambelonas restaurant is rated as one of the best in Corfu. 

You can also attend pasta making classes, visit a vineyard for wine tasting or visit an olive oil farm where high quality olive oils are produced. 

Boat Hire

Did you know that you can hire a boat and cruise around Corfu’s coastline? Check out Agni Boats as they offer a big selection of boats for hire with all the mandatory safety equipment in place.

You can stop over at any of the quiet, beautiful bays and coves along the coast. You get support throughout the rental period and it’s a super, cool way to see some of the island from this fun activity.

Festivals and Markets

Corfu is a vibrant cosmopolitan island and there are always celebrations, festivals, concerts and markets happening. Quite frankly it is beyond the scope of this guide to include all the events planned in Corfu.

Paleokastritsa Monastery

The variety of the island is such that a person needs to spend a year just to get an idea of all that takes place. The Paleokastrítsa’s Varkarola Festival for instance in August commemorates the Ottoman siege of 1716 and there are mock naval battles and plenty of fireworks.

There is also a sardine festival in August as well The Agiotfest soul, rock and folk festival in August. 

Best Beaches on Corfu

Ermones Beach:

This most beautiful beach is found about 18 km west of Corfu. It’s a quiet beach, while being busy enough for those who like to take in everything from behind dark sunglasses.

Water sports lovers will be pleased to know that there is a diving center that operates at the beach as the water is super clear for snorkeling and diving. There are plenty of taverns and cafes along the beach as well as beach umbrellas and deck-chairs to ensure you can spend the entire day at the beach.

Paleokastritsa:

Paleokastritsa Beach is postcard-beautiful with its turquoise sea, golden sands and harbors. Many people go on boat trips to other beaches along the coast. The village of Paleokastritsa offers beachgoers plenty of taverns overlooking the bay. The main beach of Paleokastritsa is attractively small and is thought to be one of the finest beaches in the Greek islands. 

If you’re particularly looking for child-friendly beaches, the west beaches of Glyfada and Pelekas might be worth a visit.

Where to Stay in Corfu

There is no shortage of hotels and other forms of accommodation in Corfu that offer unbelievable value if you find the right one. There are a number of credible tourism partners in Greece that can offer you quality hotel breaks in the Greek isles.

Between the hotels, bed-and-breakfasts and guesthouses, you can find amenities such as swimming pools, tennis courts, gyms, health spas and more. 

Marbella Corfu:

This is a magnificent 5-star, air conditioned hotel with the most magnificent views and featuring lots of luxurious features. The hotel also has a water park on-site complete with restaurant and bar. It offers other luxury facilities such as kids play area, wifi, flat-screen TV, nightly entertainment, private bathrooms, free toiletries and 24-hour front desk. Read our hotel review here. 

Corfu Villa Rainbow:

Beautifully set amongst olive tree groves, Villa Rainbow rooms & Apartments is excellent, affordable self-catering accommodation. It is made up of clean, comfortable, stylish rooms and apartments offering a host of features to ensure a comfortable stay. It is also well situated to Glyfada- and Kontogialos Beach among others.

Summing Up:

The Greek isles are one of the most visited places in the world, and Corfu is one of the popular islands with its white sandy beaches, clear turquoise seawater, active nightlife, amazing nature and unlimited activities. 

Your holiday on the island can be as quiet or as active as you like. It’s always crowded in the Summer months with a vibrant atmosphere. Dance and music lovers will be enraptured with the live venues while the many bars and nightclubs attract their own jubilant crowds.

The activities on Corfu are endless, the accommodation vast and varied, with everything being laid on with visitors in mind. It’s no wonder that when you tell people where you’re headed they’re jealous, because Corfu is filled with all the ingredients to ensure that visitors have the time of their lives.

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[ghlagatindotcom]

Even my children pay tithe to me, how much more ordinary church members — Prophet Badu Kobi

Glorious Wave International Church’s leader and founder, Prophet Bady Kobi has had his name trending on the media again following a controversial comment he passed about tithing on Empress Gifty’s ‘U Cook’ show. According to him, payment of tithe to men of God is compulsory and every church member should be encouraged to indulge in it. The controversial pastor noted that even his children who…

[ludi-ling]

Happy birthday to me, and to my love affair with OMD.

It’s my birthday today, and I was trying to think of something that’s been with me since the day I was born, right up till now; something that’s been so much a part of my life and informed who I’ve become today - the creative person, the spiritual person, the feeling person.

Apart from my wonderful family, of course, there are so many things; but few of those things have stayed with me since I was small till today. I thought long and I thought hard, and one of the things I kept coming back to was an early 80′s ‘New Wave’ band called Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark (OMD).

Growing up, I was one of those sad, sad kids who was brought up on music ranging all the way from the 1920′s to the 70′s. There was rarely any post-1980′s music being played in my household, and, as I got older, almost never any chart music. My dad loved music, but he had very little love for most of the ‘jelly-mould’, ‘cookie-cutter’ pop that churned through the charts. One of the few post-80′s acts that made it onto the record player or tape deck was OMD. 

I can’t remember how old I was when I first heard their music, but I definitely wasn’t older than 10. My dad, who was a mental health nurse, had a habit of listening to the records of patients he visited, borrowing the ones he liked, and copying them onto numerous cassette tapes. I’d gobble these up, and it was how I heard such fantastic acts such as the Velvet Underground, Frank Chickens, Billie Holiday, Marlene Dietrich (I knew her as a singer before an actress!), Hoagy Carmichael, Glenn Miller, The Carpenters, The Stranglers, The Mamas & The Papas, a whole slew of 1960′s bands, and on and on and on......

One of the cassette tapes I gorged on had ‘Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark’ written on the spine. I didn’t know it then, but Side A had some tracks from the 1983 album Dazzle Ships, followed by some tracks from the 1981 album Architecture & Morality. I don’t even remember what was on Side B. As a kid these were all just one big album to me, and I had no idea there were tracks missing, or that he’d recorded them out of chronological order. The songs just mesmerised me - synthetic yet divine; electronic yet somehow orchestral. I had no concept of the Cold War as a child, but those songs were full of it - full of clips from short wave radio surreptitiously recorded from beyond the Iron Curtain; the noisy, clunky, rattling beats meant to emulate the industrial land/soundscapes of Liverpool, where the band came from (like their legendary forbears, the Beatles); the grim and haunting melodies punctuated by gloriously angelic, church-like harmonies; the sometimes-cynical, sometimes-beautiful lyrics that were too often too-murkily sung for my young ears to understand. The crashing of waves, the clanging of metal on metal, the staccato drumbeat of lumbering freight trains; the whirring of computers and the pulsing of Morse code; soldiers chanting patriotic slogans in war-torn countries; choirs in Catholic cathedrals, saints in mystical ecstasy ...‘angels in the architecture, spinning in infinity, Amen and hallelujah!’. The subject matter encompassed everything from the lonely, grinding atmosphere of the shipbuilding industry that was slowly dying in England at the time; the helpless bliss of what it feels to fall completely in-love; the fairytale-like story of the sacrifice of one of the world’s most famous saints (which spoke to me in a way most songs couldn’t, being brought up as I had been by a devout Catholic grandmother). Andy McCluskey’s voice haunted me because I’d never heard anyone sing like that before - so raw, so full of pain and fear and desperation and disdain and rage and love and loss that most times I couldn’t understand what the hell he was saying. But I could understand the emotion behind the words - in a way the words were incidental and still are. I kind of fell in-love with him through his voice before I ever knew what he looked like (or could see his mad dance moves).

For a child whose imagination was far bigger than the courage her introverted personality could muster to go out into the world, this was the food for my soul, for my art. The soundtrack to my creative life, one that was still yet to really be.

As a teenager, I kept coming back to that cassette tape. CD’s became the rage, and I finally learned that the songs I’d listened to obsessively were from two albums, one released in the year I was born, the other in the year my sister was born. I bought those CD’s and my dad was amused to see them. He told me, later, that my sister, @jeannedarcprice​, had been partly named after one of their songs - Joan of Arc, which had been playing in the car when he was driving to the hospital to greet his new baby daughter. Jeanne was the name of our great-grandmother, but it was the OMD that gave her her full name - Jeanne d’Arc - Joan of Arc.

I listened to Architecture & Morality and Dazzle Ships in their proper order for the first time - I learned to love the other tracks my dad had omitted from his recording of that well-worn tape. I knew about the Cold War by then - I’d been just about old enough when the Berlin Wall came down to understand how massive it was - and those subtly morose moods the tunes had evoked came more sharply into focus. Suddenly, my more adult ears began to decode lyrics my immature ones had never been able to figure out. It took me years to figure out what I think all those lyrics actually are. Their beauty just took my love affair to a whole other level. I was beginning to write then, seriously. As time went on, the impressions the OMD had left on me as a child had started to real percolate - blend into my being. I never realised then how much those words and sounds stayed with me, but they did. And later, when I was 20 and my father died, one thing of his that stayed with me was the OMD.

There are many things that have inspired my paltry writings, but if anyone asked me today what impacted me so deeply for the longest amount of time, it would probably be Architecture & Morality and Dazzle Ships. The mechanised rhythms and electronic beats that evoked images of grey, concrete, industrial cityscapes - they became the background music to my love affair with post-apocalyptic wastelands. The angelic harmonies and the glorious, sweeping melodies that told of the divine - they were the glimmering light, the tiny threads of warmth that lit those hopeless post-apocalyptic wastelands with the very things that keep humanity alive despite all the odds - hope, trust, joy and, most of all, love.

Today, these are the things I still write about, draw about; and if you had to put a soundtrack to any of it, it would probably be the OMD. If you had to put a soundtrack to my life, 1981-2018, it would probably be them. 

One of the highlights of my life was getting to see them play both albums live in their entirety for the first time at the Albert Hall in 2016 - and the only thing that would have made it perfect would’ve been for my dad to have been sitting right there next to me.

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I thought about adding a link here to Architecture & Morality and Dazzle Ships as they were recorded, chronologically. But in the end, I decided to do my own playlist, the way it had run on that old cassette tape my dad made all those years ago - out of order, and with numerous tracks missing. Here it is. I still remember how it goes. RIP dad, wherever you are.

--Lyrics--

1. Radio Prague

Z Praha Československé zahraniční vysílání.

2. Telegraph

I've got a telegraph in my hand. Words on paper, written in sand. We've got telegraph, right across this land. It doesn't mean a damn thing. We don't understand. But who needs telegraph anyway? I've got a telegraph in my hand. Words on paper, written in sand. We've got telegraph, right across this land. It doesn't mean a damn thing. We don't understand, we never understand! God's got a telegraph on his side. It makes Him powerful, gives Him pride. Even in America, God bless America! They understand the value of the telegraph. Hand in hand, hand in hand...

3. This is Helena

Music for your tape recorder. I hope you will enjoy it. This is Helena, this is Helena. This is Helena, your M.C. today.

4. International

Now and then a little thing gets by. Now and then we'll cry. Like a fall in a war, like a mother's open arms, Like a pawn in a game, hard to tame. There we sit on a line, wasting fortunes at a time, and pray. All the time we are gone, there's no reason, there’s no way, Or the soul is the one, so they say. There we sit on a line, wasting fortunes at a time, and play. She never thought he’d be this way. Her arms aloft, she holds. But now it's all a memory. And it’s gone...

5. Silent Running

God only knows this isn’t heaven. The promises made, He never keeps them. We’re walking on air, we’re taking our time. But God only knows this isn’t reason or rhyme. I’ve had this feeling I don’t believe in. It’s happened before, I just rejected it. We’re walking on air, we’re taking our time. But God only knows this isn’t reason or rhyme. These are the feelings, I know their outcome. It’s useless pretending, I’d like to beat them. We’re walking on air, we’re taking our time. But God only knows, this isn’t reason or rhyme. We’re walking on air, we’re taking our time this time. But God only knows, this isn’t reason or rhyme. We’re walking on air.

6. Times Zones

7. She’s Leaving

Every day, a new start,  A cheap affair, a sordid truth. We never learn to guide our hearts, We’ll never find what we deserve. She’s leaving, she waited for so long. She’d pretend that he cared, Invent some tale just to gain his heart. But no more dreams, she didn't dare. She’d washed her hands of this whole affair. She’s leaving, she waited for so long. She’s leaving, she waited for so long. But as she left, she gave her heart, Abandoned hope, and turned for home. I thought I’d ask, Ah, but then again, The more we learn, the less we know. The more we learn, less we know.

8. Souvenir

It’s my direction It’s my proposal It’s so hard It’s leading me astray. My obsession It’s my creation You’ll understand It’s not important now. All I need is Co-ordination. I can’t imagine My destination. My intention Ask my opinion. With no excuse My feelings still remain My feelings still remain

9. Sealand

Sealand, forgets her friends. She'll not leave them again. Mother, sister, at home.  These arms fail you so.

10. Joan of Arc

Little Catholic girl who’s falling in love. A face on a page, gift from above. She should’ve known better than to give her heart, She should’ve known better than to ever part without me, without me. I gave her everything that I ever owned, I think she understood ‘cos she never spoke. She shouldn’t oughta try to be that way, She shouldn’t have to go there ever again without me, without me. Now listen to us good and listen well, Listen to the song, everything we tell. We should’ve known better than to give her away. We should’ve known better to this very day, without me, without me. Now listen, Joan of Arc, all you gotta do, Is say the right words and I’ll be coming through, Hold you in my arms and take you right away. Now she’s gone away to another land. We never understood why she gave her hand. She shouldn’t oughta promise, ‘cos it’s just pretend. I know she doesn’t mean it and she’ll leave again without me, without me. Without me, without me.

11. Maid of Orleans

If Joan of Arc Had a heart Would she give it as a gift? To such as me Who longs to see How an angel ought to be. Her dream’s to give Her heart away, Like an orphan, unaware. She cared so much, She offered up, Her body to the grave.

12. Georgia

Well, here we are again. Two, too good to be friends, Forever, forever, forever. Well, look at what we’ve done. Three, three rolled into one Together, together, together. So, how can this be true? We, we thought that we knew you Forever, forever, forever. We will watch the morning star, Rising over home, Georgia. Dancing in the ruins of the western world, Blindfolds on like we don’t care.

13. The Beginning and the End

This is where we start, this now takes our hearts away. Thus we reach the end, the beginning and the end. You see, I could not try and here are you and I, Parting, due to me only, And now......