#Holy Communion Trays

[pulpitssa]

Holy Communion Cups Serving Ware in South Africa

Are you searching for high-quality Communion serving ware that exudes elegance and reverence? Look no further than Pulpits SA, the premier destination in South Africa for a stunning array of Communion serving items. Whether you need Acrylic Pulpits, Wooden Pulpits, Acrylic Podiums, Holy Communion Cups, Pulpits Podiums Lecterns, or Holy Communion Trays, we have an exquisite collection to meet all your church's requirements.

[renatedagmarmilada]

opportunity

this poem got me an invite to the Edinburgh Arts Festival....

IT WAS AN OPPORTUNITY TO CHANGE THE STATE

CLAIM THE LORDS

 BROKEN PEAS

But I only……

I only did it for you

Broke the bank, scraped my mind

Carried the star of David

In the scars of my heart

Only for you…….

 Cried in buckets of welling fears

Stitched lace to my toes

Ate the dirt dished out by the goy

And cried all night with Burns

Only for you……

 Laughed into the tray of life

As the machine sliced wafer thin

Dripped into the communion cup

And screamed along its blades

Loved and loved with hatred whole

To be retained

Only for you

 Scratched on the cliffs

Deciphered mystic writings in rice

And swayed to the tune of the hat

savoured the sweetness of rippling sounds

in waves of criminal blue

danced the bottles of crazy mind

and carried it all off with panache

for you

only for you……

 The final trumpet will tell it all

In Rivulets of truth

The Tale much longer than Never - was

All in a second’s action

That wasn’t

And the dance of red roses

Frizzled blood over your floor

For you,

yes you……

 It’s all over now, the end will be yesterday

Decimated in the cup never filled

In clutches of steel sprinkled stars

Tailors who never sewed

Our ancestry came from the same part of the world

After all…

 their casserole bubbling with soil

it was all for you

for you

only for you

but I’ve forgotten

who……

   FOR FAITH

DOUBTED

FOR BELIEF

TORMENTED

 30/9/97

  “Hats ----cats------Rats”

 With holy status apex Hats

My altruistic hat’s bigger than your altruistic hat!

My place loftier!

Closer to God’s chastity!

Craftier celubriousness reaching presumptuousness

Occupies the front row with maximum bombastic

Tainted intake of teaching

Deflects the Blue zealots

The Rabbi’s eyes revealing blight

Reflecting the rarity of light

Absolve striped fringes preaching

Holiness gleans tinged with prayers

Revlon and Dior combine to create

Compelling union to give proximity

Anecdote to God

all those cats  

fille de joie

Culling all through the dimensions

Wrench Those hats!

You rats

 Goodness was that Patnick

And who is that other politician under the table?

It must be Heffer be he dead

Jewish joke from the lunatic doctor of the Lab?

So the boy traced all the drawings

Go sell them, I’ll tell you where

And he sold the traced drawings

They said you had sex with your son of eighteen months

They put that on the file and it went everywhere

And we told you

But all you remember is a very happy catholic family

Living in little Scunthorpe

There was the Legion of Mary with its good works

And the Catholic Schools

And the Irish Club

And the alter servers

Destroyed by intervention by the Human Research

Liberties taken..

The whole lab had to put in one crime

And then in rounds punish and destroy

Now it is the turn of the daughter again

Now the son

Now the eldest son…

They call it coming to revue,

Each revue destroys and punishes some more                  

[noritoshiikamo]

priest!nanami kento x fallen angel!reader cw sacrilege, fucking on the communion table, manipulative behaviour, semi public fucking??, male & female receiving oral, spitting and exchanging fluid, unprotected sex

a part of my 3k milestone event request belongs to @cheolinn my beloved <3 i have no idea what im rambling but see yall in hell okay? happy belated bday nanamin

- playing god

you knew life as the priest’s wife is hard.

everyone absolutely adores father nanami. and with his adoration comes the annoyance of which you’re being scrutinized under the eyes of the neighbours.

“how’s she married to father nanami and not even attend his sunday’s preach?” you held your tongue, focusing on the canned foods you were comparing as the two women in front of you gossipped. tossing the can in the tray, you scoffed as you walked past them.

you didn’t miss the bitch they threw at you and you rationalised with yourself; is it really worthy to fight two old ladies in the canned food aisle?

nanami married you last year, after knowing for few months. he had never forced you to attend his church, but you do it occasionally out of respect for him. it did take a toll on your mortal body, unholy souls aren’t supposed to cross the threshold of a holy place. it rendered you completely bruised and weak which you blamed it on your fake trauma. nanami ate it up, never forcing you to come to the church anymore like the foolish human you expected.

funny how you were casted out of heaven only to fall in the arms of a priest. that’s a big fuck you from the big man as he made the man completely fallen head over heel for you. a corrupted angel marrying a priest sounds like another joke you tell your buddies over beers but it’s a sick punishment from god to you.

and you made it your whole motivation to corrupt his messenger.

you headed to the checkout counter, politely greeted by the lady behind the counter. you watched as the cashier rang up and bagged your items, a cart full of groceries for you both to last a week or two and she stated the total. as you expected, it is expensive. you smiled, you’ve done it so many times as you leaned against the counter.

“my, that’s a lot. are you sure? i think i only bought a bottle of snapple and a bag of apples.”

you feigned your shock, reciting two cheapest items from your trolley. you memorized it, it’s your little mind gag. like in trance, the cashier glanced at the trolley and widened her eyes, profusely apologizing for her mistake. you watched happily as the cashier started erasing the ‘wrong’ items off the machine until it was just the two items.

you happily obliged, placing the small changes ignoring the thick wad of money sitting in your purse courtesy of your husband. as the cashier handed the change, you shrugged, telling her to give you a pack of cigarettes in exchange of the few cents left. it was far from enough, but the cashier followed your order anyway, blinded by your charms, handling you the pack which you happily tucked in your purse.

“have a nice day!” you cheerfully waved, rolling your eyes once she was away from your vision.

humans are so easy to trick, especially when you’re in a position of power. and being the priest’s wife definitely gives you extra passes in helping your cause of corrupting the human. nanami wasn’t home as you walked in your house, hands full of groceries you didn’t have to pay, cigarettes hanging loose from your lips. he can do that later, you scoffed tossing the bags on the counter as you walked to the living room, with a bottle of wine kicking the heels off as you turned off the tv.

you don’t get humans and their obsession with numbing their mind. this grape concentration was nothing to you as you downed half of the bottle. you waited for your loving human to return home, as this was your one year anniversary. he told you to not do anything, he was going to take you out and spoil you for dinner but you had plans of your own.

you had planned it for so long. for casting you out of hell, you want god to pay for the mistakes he made. you know that a priest’s words in a community brings such a huge impact. you tested the water, started small by weeding out the one with a corrupted soul that would be an easy target.

they are the trash of the community, everyone’s secretly praying for them to disappear off the earth, no one would miss them. you made yourself their new god, sending them spiralling down into addictions, corrupting the loyals to commit adultery, breaking families apart. it was funny to see how quickly the church was losing their people, how most of them were never a good person as they claimed to be.

you spent so many nights comforting your husband when you were the reason for his demise. comforting him with sex was always the fun part; nanami was gentle as you expected but you knew there’s a feral side of him that he was hiding every time he’s balls deep in you. funny how you prayed for him to snap but he never did. no matter how much you begged for him to choke you, offered him other places he could explore, but he would turn it down. how his eyes were full of lust as he muttered how it was wrong to fall for the temptation of the devil.

but you are tired of the little games. you wanted to know if your husband is truly the man of god he is.

but god works in a different way. your phone vibrated, as you took the last drag of your cigarette, your eyes skimmed through the text. you have got to be kidding me, you threw the bottle on the floor. it shattered, just like your plans but you’ll improvise. you have no problem corrupting a man like him in the house of god. if anything, it only made your cunt tingled at the thoughts of ravishing the priest on the communion table.

i’m stuck at work, don’t wait up - n

you don’t need a car to travel, as you stood in front of the church. what’s some pain when you can finally have control, your heels clicked on the floor as you walked along the aisle to where your husband busied himself with a member of a church. “y/n,” you love the way your name rolled off his tongue as he spotted you, glasses hung on the bridge of his nose. he looked disheveled, exhausted. he explained to the member how it was their anniversary night, and that they were missing a dinner because of his busy work.

“please, you and your missus are welcome to my restaurant. as my apology for taking both of your times,” the man said, glancing both to you and father nanami. you took a seat, as both of them continued. you noticed the urgent glance from your husband to you as you loosened your coat, exposing more skin. you were bare underneath. you could smell his arousal, as expected.

it didn’t take long for him to cave. the man seemed to understand, telling that he’ll be here at the church tomorrow. you couldn’t hold yourself back from smiling, there’ll be no church here tomorrow for them to worship when you’re done with it. as the heavy door slammed shut you found yourself almost giddy in his arms, pressing him down on his chair.

“i miss you,” you cheered, batting your eyes as you toyed with his collars. your lips ghosted over his own, as your fingers ghosted over his throat you could feel the lump going down. “i miss you too. i’m sorry i get held back with the job,” his hand going up and down your side and you couldn’t help the shudders down your spine.

it’s odd how comforting it was for you to sit in his lap without feeling like your inside was burning. the collar came off so easily, as you loosened up his buttons. nanami grabbed your wrists, halting your movement. “we shouldn’t do it here, let’s go home,” he insisted, brushing you off his laps. but that’s not what you want. you didn’t miss the look of fear in his face when you yanked him, tossing him on the communion table. the papers scattered, candle holders clanking on the floor as you climbed on top of him.

“what’s wrong with you?”

you snickered, undoing your coat, bare except for the bra holding your breasts up, “i thought god loves offering?” you yanked his black shirt off, marveling on his pretty body trembling underneath your palm, “what better way to offer ourselves than in it’s purest form right, kento?” your tongue traced along his abs, legs straddling his waist as you pinned your hands beside his head. nanami’s eyes stared deeply into your bloodshot eyes, disbelieving in what he’s seeing.

“you’re not my wife.”

“i was never your wife from the start. i’m an angel, fallen out of grace,” you flipped your hair away, twisting your torso where a healed stub where your wings used to sit near your shoulder blade, “you can call me by any names, y/n, devil, angel, your wife,” your eyes sparkled with mischief as your nails dug deep in the flesh of his chest.

“it’s impossible, you can’t enter the house of god!”

nanami was hard to deal with, he’s quite stronger than you expected but not when your hand wrapped around his neck cutting off the air supply that made him still. you grimaced, laughter echoed in the large hall as you tightened your grip to his neck, “your god isn’t here. just you and me in this empty box.”

“what do you want?” he coughed out, hands clawing on your wrist. there is it, the question you’ve been waiting for. your husband, the man of god he claimed to be is now at mercy of you, a false god. you grinned, fangs flashing as you loosened your grip to his neck. you want what every woman; sex and domination.

he kissed you back, to your surprise. teeth clashing in urgency as you slip your tongue between his lips. you couldn’t help but to moan, grinding your hips slowly against his bulge. his touch left trail of heat along your bare skin. it touched your wing stub, a warning hiss escaped your lips but he deepened the kiss, pulling you tighter against him. “don’t do that,” you warned, grabbing a handful of his hair. he looked at you, lips red from where your fangs tore it and moist from the kiss before nodding lightly. he was blushing, fuck, he’s making it so hard for you to deal with it.

“i just want-”

you yanked his hair harder, “don’t.”

he nodded again, pulling his hand away from your back. his gentleness annoyed you as you straddled his chest, “open your mouth,” his brows furrowed in confusion but by the look on your face you’re not going to ask again. his tongue unfurled itself, and you happily spit in it where it mixed with his blood and saliva. “nu’uh, don’t swallow that,” you slipped your panties aside, before sitting yourself comfortably on his face. you didn’t have to say anything as his tongue buried itself in your soaking slit.

if there’s one thing you’re grateful about being in the human body, it’s the amount of pleasure you could receive. your eyes rolled back as he continued, tongue tracing in patterns before his lips formed an o around your clit. your loud moans echoed in the hall. “f-fucking hell, father, you prayed to god with that mouth?” you chuckled, grabbing your breast in your hands, flicking the neglected bud with your own fingers, “my, it’s certainly way better than spitting all that nonsense is it?”

you know he’s enjoying it as much as you were, feeling his soft moans and hums as he continued to lap you up. your sharp nails raked through his soft blonde hair, his eyes opened up instantly, glossy as he looked up to you. his arms snaked around your body, feeling your ass and around your waist, leaving grips that would bruise.

“come on, father, you’re not doing hard enough. put more enthusiasm in it, is that how you present your offering to god? half assed tonguing?”

you sneered, pressing your thighs tighter around his face. his chest heaved, out of breath suffocated by the lack of air with your pussy pressed to his face. you were impatient, especially as the knot in your belly started to twist. you found yourself meeting him halfway, rocking your hips, bumping your clit against his nose. his hand grabbing on your tit, nipples between two fingers, edging you closer and closer. nanami knew what he’s doing, you found yourself undone, creaming on his face.

“that’s it baby, lap it all up, not a drop."

your body shuddered in pleasure, as he continued through your high. you pulled away, jumping off the table. you hovered above him, a sly smile as you marvelled at the sight, with your cum and arousal soaking his chin and face. “you’re all messy, lemme help,” you tossed his glasses on the ground, cracking on impact as your tongue scooped up the mess. it was a lot, a mouthful as your tongue traced his lips before kissing him.

you could taste yourself and iron taste of where his cut was as you dumped the load down his mouth. you hummed, when he flinched, holding him down. he swallowed to your joy before you pulled away. circling around where you kneel between his legs. you didn’t bother pulling it off all the way, mouth wrapped around the tip. of all the cocks, his own still the one you adored the most, how it filled up your mouth so good. with no gag reflex, it’s easy for you to go all the way, eliciting pretty whines out of his lips.

“y/n, slowly,” he grunted, fingers grabbing a handful of your hair. but you’re no human, pain isn’t in your vocabulary, if any it only riled you up when he pulled on your hair. “come on, kento. i know you want to fuck my throat,” you teased, letting drops of saliva down on his cock, where your hand slowly jerked it. pulling him to the edge of the table, you guided his hand to the side of your head, tip resting on your tongue heavy. your brows jolted up, a silent invitation but he stared down on you, unable to move.

shrugging, you moved for his sake, bobbing your head up and down. he flinched and moaned every time your cheeks hollowed itself around his shaft. it didn’t take long for him to respond, tightening his grip to your head. finally, nanami started to loosen up, taking over your pace as he jerked his hips forward. he was free to ram deep in your throat, head tilted up so he could look down on you. he had to remind himself multiple of times that this wasn’t his wife, that it wasn’t you that he loved but as your throat restricted itself around his shaft, his faith on god dissipated.

your bloodshot eyes looked pretty and glossy looking up on him. your throat making all the squelching noise and with the pretty hue across the bridge of your nose and cheeks, he found himself thrusting harder.

whatever kind of test of faith this was, nanami was failing it as he threw his head back moaning.

“please,” his voice croaked, grip tightening on your hair, “close, close, close."

he was practically fucking your throat, and you were happy to be at the receiving hand. your nose buried in his musky happy trail as he held you down. you could feel the spurt of his release in the back of your throat. it took you by surprise, your human body gagged at the sudden release but he held you down. think of it as a revenge. he tasted good as you expected, humming at the taste on the base of his cock only made it twitched.

his grip to your hair loosened as he slumped back against the table. but you’re not done.

“what do you want?” nanami asked, chest heaving up and down as he gasped for air, “truly?”

you switched position, your back towards him as you bent yourself forwards, legs apart where he could see your glistening slit. “my endgame? i just wanna pissed off daddy upstairs,” you could feel his palm on your lower back, his cock slowly running along your wet slit. you braced yourself as his cock split you apart, eyes rolling backward as his cock buried deep in you. your arms around the back of his neck as his lips attached to your neck.

“but i can’t do it alone. i need you.”

nanami didn’t waste his time, pulling out and thrusting back in. the table you braced yourself on shook underneath you. his hands were all over you, palming your chest, gripping tightly on your waist. he was rougher than usual, his lips released a lewd pop as he let go of the skin of your neck, before lapping on another spot until your neck was full of his mark. the smell of his cologne and sex mingled the air, with every breath you took, blood was rushing to your face and ears so fast it made you lightheaded.

“right there, fuck,” you whined, lifting your leg on the table, spreading your legs wider. he grabbed your shoulder, breath down on your neck, pistoning faster. with every air knocked out of your chest he was losing himself further.

“come, join me, kento.”

he shook his head, your laughter ringing in his ear, shut up, shut up shut up, his mind screamed, hand wrapped around your throat. the pressure around your neck only made you moan harder, combined with his harsh, rapid thrusts, “shut it bitch.”

“aha, that’s more i like it.”

he pulled out, turning you around. he tossed your body on the table, your head landing with a thud as he pulled you by your legs. he’s not done yet, you grinned. you love him unhinged, desperately rutting deep in you. his tip scraping your inside beautifully, bruising your cervix. your arousal pooling down your ass and on the table and the sound of your skins echoing the large hall was a beautiful symphony.

you could feel your high again and he could see it too. thumb heavy on your clit circling around until you were panting like a bitch on heat. tongue out, eyes back, body glistening in sweat. “close,” you repeated, heels digging against the table.

your breath laboured as you met his dark eyes. he was enjoying this as much as you are. he does, the feeling of your wall convulsing around his length as you came again, it was hard for nanami to not come on the spot. with his rubbing, you were screaming, it was like you lost a hold of the body as you squirted out.

a soft fuck escaped his lips as more came gushing out. your walls tensing up, giving him a hard time to thrust in slowly.

your human body was weak, after the third orgasm you could feel it getting limp from the overstimulation. but he wasn’t done, not yet. his lips latched around your nipples, slow but deeper thrust. he growled when you clenched harder, teeth scraping against your nipple sent shivers down your spine. you didn’t realise you were moaning his name until he told you so.

“excuse me?” you spitted.

he grunted, eyes lidded as he looked deep in your eyes, “my name, say it like that.” his grip on your waist tightened as you laughed, refusing to cave in to his request. your hand reached to caress his chiseled cheek, soaked in sweat that was sticking his hair down. he let a soft gasp as your thumb glided against his dry lips.

“and why would i oblige to your petty request?”

“because by the time we are done, you’ll be worshipping me,” your pupils dilated in excitement, a smile dangling on the corner of your lips, pulling him close until you were sharing breath, “i’ll be your new god.”

you kissed him feverishly, swallowing each other’s moans as he picked up his pace. grabbing your legs, he pressed them down your chest, suffocating you as his pelvic slammed down against your ass. it was drowsy, the amount of ecstacy his cock brought upon you.

you were muttering gibberish, hands desperately grabbing the table for support. you asked for this, for your husband snapped out of his mind, you should be able to take it. but as tears pricked your bloodshot eyes, his tongue darting out to catch the salty droplet, you might have unleashed a different breed of monster.

“s’good, don’t you want to fill me up?” you pouted.

“so cocky for someone drooling for my cock,” he sneered, landing a slap on your cheek.

it took you by surprise, a good surprise as his fingers gagged you shut. it made a perfect gag around your little sweet noise. his thrust got sloppier as he desperately chased for his high. one free hand roughhousing your tits, he could feel your teeth clamping harsh on his fingers. but he didn’t care. nanami couldn’t think straight as all he could think was the build up tension down south he was desperate to release. he didn’t care of your whine or how your walls were fluttering again. he just wanted to cum inside you.

and he did.

forehead knitted in pleasure as he cummed in silent scream, face buried in the ample chest of yours as he gripped tightly on your hips. you could feel the bulge on your lower region where he pumped you full. you heaved together, struggling to catch a breath. but as you came down from your high, nanami flipped you on all four. white fluid gushed out of you as he ran his hand down from your back before landing a loud smack on your ass.

before you could open your mouth, he shoved his cock back in your gaping cunt. your hair in his tight grip as nanami tugged your head back.

you snarled, whining as he twisted your flailing arm back, gathered by the wrist by his hand, “what the fuck you think you’re doing?”

“oh, you think we are done?” his smile was twisted, “we are done when i said so, angel.”

looking in his blown out pupils, you realised that it was easy to twist a human soul apart. maybe he was a demon in disguise, hiding behind the soft smile and priesthood. but you couldn’t care anymore, not when he’s bringing heaven down on you with the way he’s fucking you.

© all content belongs to noritoshiikamo. do not modify or repost. join the taglist or buy me a ko-fi!

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[missfinefeather]

Solidad

If you steal every single recipients on the planet one by one you're bound to eventually find the holy grail

MissFinefeathe

Is that what was happening there? lol

Solidad

It was more general stupidity than anythingI really like Percival and Caradoc but they aren't the brightest out there

Fun fact about the holy grail in arthurian legends, I read the original story of Percival for a middle school french class and it's described more as a tray or a plate than anything elseAt least it's pretty clear it's not something you would usually drink out of

MissFinefeather

Weird...

I mean, the whole point of the legend is that jesus drank from it.

Solidad

Wait, that's not the holy grail, the holy grail is the container that someone used to get some of Jesus's blood after he was pierced with a spear on the cross

MissFinefeather

Wait, really?

I guess I got my legends mixed up?

Solidad

From wikipedia

"Though Chrétien's account is the earliest and most influential of all Grail texts, it was in the work of Robert de Boron that the Grail truly became the "Holy Grail" and assumed the form most familiar to modern readers in its Christian context.[21] In his verse romance Joseph d'Arimathie, composed between 1191 and 1202, Robert tells the story of Joseph of Arimathea acquiring the chalice of the Last Supper to collect Christ's blood upon his removal from the cross. Joseph is thrown in prison, where Christ visits him and explains the mysteries of the blessed cup. Upon his release, Joseph gathers his in-laws and other followers and travels to the west. He founds a dynasty of Grail keepers that eventually includes Perceval."

apparently in some version it is the one he drank out of

not all of them

in some versions it's even a stone

or a piece of communion bread

MissFinefeather

Ah, so in some he drank out of it, in others it's tupperware

Solidad

Here's the original version "Chrétien refers to this object not as "The Grail" but as "a grail" (un graal), showing the word was used, in its earliest literary context, as a common noun. For Chrétien a grail was a wide, somewhat deep dish or bowl, interesting because it contained not a pike, salmon, or lamprey, as the audience may have expected for such a container, but a single Communion wafer which provided sustenance for the Fisher King's crippled father."

MissFinefeather

Got to keep Jesus's blood fresh!

Solidad

from Wikipedia

pffff

Now i'm imagining some vampire with a collection of tupperwares filled with famous people's blood

MissFinefeather

"32 AD, very vintage!"

[a-corndog-named-schibbs]

Fangs, Fur, and Phantoms - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Next Chapter

Back at it again with more spooky fun.  Coran finds weird uses for a communion wafer.  Lance accepts an offer he’d rather refuse.  Answers are finally found.

Note: Contains religion (Note within a note: author was raised Protestant. If you’re familiar with Catholic liturgy and notice she got something wrong, please let her know so she can fix it)

Enjoy!

“God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself  and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church, may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

“Amen,” Lance murmured.

“May the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary and of all the saints, whatever good you do and suffering you endure heal your sins, help you to grow in holiness, and reward you with eternal life. Go in peace.” Coran said from the other side of the screen.

“Already got the eternal life bit, thanks,” said Lance, under his breath.

“Do we need to do this again so you can confess to sassing a prophet?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Lance stepped out of the confession booth.

“How about Mass?  When was the last time you had that?” Coran asked, also exiting the booth.

“I think I can go without tonight.”

“Well, let’s test that, shall we?” said Coran, reaching over to the altar and picking up a communion wafer from the dish.  He approached Lance and pressed the wafer to his forehead.

Lance winced.  When Coran pulled the wafer away, a slight pink mark appeared where it had been.

“Better to be safe than sorry.  I’ll get the blood bag.”

“It didn’t hurt that much…”

“It’s not supposed to hurt at all,” Coran pointed out, “If you want to take care of your immortal soul then you’ve got to take the treatments.”

Lance sighed, “Oh, all right.”  He certainly understood why he took Mass.  He was the one who had asked Coran to help him find a way to do so, his family’s faith one of the few ties to his past he had left.  That didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating, having to take Mass nearly every night just so he could walk past a crucifix without fear of getting a headache.

Lance watched as Coran retrieved the cup used specifically for vampire-friendly Mass (no need for the other congregants to drink wine from a cup that had had blood in it the night before) and poured blood from a blood bag into it.  He then recited the invocation and presented Lance with the cup.  Lance drank it down.

“There,” said Coran, “Let’s try this again.”  He picked up the communion wafer and touched it to Lance’s forehead once more.

“Nothing,” said Lance, “Now you’re just a guy holding a cracker up to another guy’s forehead.”

“Good.  That means it worked,” Coran set the wafer down and patted Lance on the shoulder, “I’m glad you stopped by tonight, Lance, it’s always nice to see you.  Tell Keith I said hi and try not to get into too much trouble.”

Lance smirked, “But you’d be out of a job if I didn’t.”

“I’m serious, son.  If you come in here next week and tell me that you’ve…I don’t know…eaten a five-year-old or something—“

“Coran!  I would never!  Five-year-olds aren’t nearly ripe enough to eat.”

Coran raised an eyebrow.

“Kidding, just kidding,” said Lance, “You take care of yourself, Coran.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Lance exited St. Groggery’s, he noticed a man across the street, standing by a rather expensive-looking car and illuminating the pavement with his phone’s flashlight.

The man looked up and noticed him, “Excuse me, do you think you can help me with something?”

Lance crossed the street, “What do you need, man?”

“I seem to have dropped my keys, could you help me find them?”

Lance almost didn’t catch the man’s words.  Up close, he was strikingly attractive.  Tall as hell and slender, but not without muscle.  His facial features were an elegant, refined sort of handsome and his long platinum-blond hair showed signs of being well cared-for.

“Sure,” said Lance, “Sure, let me just…” He knelt down and peeked under the car while the stranger held the flashlight, not that he needed it to see in the dark.  After a moment, he spotted the keys and fished them out.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you so much.  I was worried they’d gone down a storm drain.  I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along.”  The man put his hand on Lance’s arm.  Lance had mixed feelings about the gesture, though he couldn’t seem to bring himself to shake the other man off.

“Oh, it was nothing really.”

“Still, I’d like to show my gratitude in some way.  How about I get you a drink?”

“I, uh, I don’t drink…alcohol.”

“I know,” said the man, pulling the collar of his shirt down slightly to reveal his collarbone.

Bad idea, said Lance’s brain, even as his arms reached for the man and his legs carried him forward.

The man pulled him into a nearby alleyway and pressed him against the wall.  Lance’s head spun.  He could already smell the man’s blood, could practically taste it on his tongue.  It would taste so good to have blood straight from the source for once.  The last time he had had a fresh meal was…

That snapped Lance out of his trance.  The only person he did this with anymore was Keith.  You just got out of confession and already you’re trying to eat from a stranger, what’s wrong with you?  Lance took a step back, “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t.  I need to get home—“

His words were cut off as the man shoved him backwards against the wall, a hand wrapped around his throat.  Lance tried to shake him off, but the stranger only pushed him harder into the bricks, lifting him off his feet with astonishing strength.  Lance squirmed against the man’s grip.  It would take more than choking to kill him, but the lack of oxygen was making his head spin.

Something hard and pointed pressed against his chest, right above his heart.  Lance looked down.  The man was holding a wooden stake, poised to stab him with it.

“I assume you know what that is.  If you so much as scream, it’ll be the last noise you ever make.”

The man set Lance back on his feet.

“What do you want?” Lance hissed, rubbing his throat.

“You’ve encountered two individuals by the names of Agents Shirogane and Prince, yes?”

“Yeah…” said Lance, remembering the agents that had come to Keith’s house the other day.

“They work for an organization known as the Paranormal Bureau of Investigation.  An organization that hunts down creatures like you and me.”

“What’s your point?”

“I want you to kill them for me.”

Lance’s lip curled in disgust, “Let’s assume I have any intention of humoring you.  Give me one good reason why I should do this.”

“Besides the fact that they would hunt you down and throw you in a cage if they knew what you are?”

Lance shrugged, “Plenty of people have tried to hunt me down before.  No one’s caught me yet.”

“I figured you’d need a bit of extra motivation,” the man pulled out his phone and pulled up an image, “How about this, then?”

Lance’s stomach dropped.  A picture of Keith filled the screen.

“He’s your lover, isn’t he?  Such a handsome boy…It would certainly be a shame if anything unfortunate happened to that lovely face.”

“Listen,” Lance growled, “If you think you can scare me…”

“Not good enough?  How about this, then,”  The man swiped across the screen and an image of two children playing in a backyard slid into view.  The picture was slightly blurry, as though it was taken covertly.

“These are your…oh, what was it?…great-great-grandchildren?  I don’t know how you keep track.  Their names are Nadia and Sylvio, aren’t they?”

“You wouldn’t dare…” whispered Lance.

“You don’t want to know what I would dare to do.”  The man let Lance go.  “You have until Saturday.  If Agents Shirogane and Prince are not dead by then, I will personally track down and kill everyone you love.  Oh, and one more thing,” the man turned and faced Lance once more, “When you do kill those agents, be sure to tell them Lotor sent you.”

***

In addition to its quality coffee and friendly customer service, Mochas & Magic also sold second-hand books.  Allura figured that was as good a place as any to do research on local folklore.

She had decided to perform this particular task solo.  Shiro was busy interviewing Mr. and Mrs. Griffin about the incident and Allura figured she might get better results if she went alone anyway.  If this Colleen woman’s daughter really had information on New Altea’s supernatural population, she might benefit more from a girl-to-girl chat.

As Allura pushed open the door to the coffee shop, she heard Colleen’s voice ring out, “Welcome to Mochas & Magic!  Come on in!”

Colleen was stationed behind the register today.  Beside her was a rather large young man in an apron, sliding trays of blueberry scones into the display case.

“Oh, I remember you,” said Colleen, as Allura approached the counter, “You and that young man were in here yesterday, talking about vampires.”

“Yes, that, uh, that was me,” said Allura, trying to keep her voice down.  The young man in the apron was giving her a strange look.  “You mentioned your daughter knowing a lot about folklore.  I was wondering if I could talk with her for a bit.”

“Well, I’m sure she’d be happy to discuss it with you.  Hunk, do you know where Katie is?”

“I think she’s shelving books right now,” said Hunk, still not taking his eyes off of Allura.

“Thank you,” said Allura, “That’s very helpful of you.”

“Are you writing a YA novel?” said Colleen.

“Hm?”

“Is your research for a YA novel?  We get a lot of authors in here doing research for novels they’re writing.”

“It’s just for a personal project,” said Allura, before making her way to the bookstore section of the shop.

A young woman in her early twenties was stocking the shelves, climbing a stepladder to reach the highest ones.  She had short, brown hair and large, round glasses.

“I’m almost done,” the woman said, “One moment.”

“Are you Katie?” asked Allura.

“Yeah, but you can call me Pidge,” the woman said, stepping down from the ladder, “What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping you could help me find some books on a certain subject,” said Allura, casually scanning the bookshelf nearest to her.

“Depends on the subject, I guess,” said Pidge, “What were you looking for?”

Allura picked up one of the books off the shelf.  The cover was emblazoned with the word Beowulf.  She flipped through the pages idly.  “I’m just looking for information on some of the creatures in this area.”

“Like what?  Foxes and raccoons?”

“More like werewolves and vampires.”

There was the barest flicker of worry on Pidge’s face, but it soon disappeared.  “I hate to disappoint you, ma’am, but creatures like that don’t actually exist.”

“But your mother said people came here to research the subject all the time.”

“Well, yeah, but not like actual researchers.  Cryptid hunters and teen romance novelists, those kinds of people.”

“So you’re saying supernatural beings aren’t actually real?”

“That’s absolutely what I’m saying, yes.”

Without warning, Allura tossed the book she was holding directly at Pidge’s head.  Pidge yelped and held up her hand and the book stopped just short of her face, hovering in midair.

“Are you sure?” said Allura.

Pidge lowered her hand and the book dropped to the ground, falling open, “Well, shit.  You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Well, now that we’re done with the playacting, we can get straight to business.  What can you tell me about the werewolves in this area?”

But Pidge didn’t seem to be in a cooperative mood at the moment.  “You’re one of the agents who interviewed Keith, aren’t you?” she said.

“So you know Mr. Kogane, do you?  Can you tell me anything about his whereabouts on the night of James Griffin’s death?”

“I knew it!” said Pidge, ignoring her question, “I knew there was some sort of men-in-black thing for supernatural beings.  Are you part of the government?”

“Now who’s being a conspiracy theorist?”

“It’s not a conspiracy theory if you’re right.”

“Look,” said Allura, “I don’t want to accuse your friend any more than you do.  If there’s anything, anything at all you can share with me that might help clear his name, it would go a long way toward helping him.”

Pidge sighed, “Listen, I can’t give you any hard evidence, but whatever you’re looking for, whatever killed Griffin, it’s not a werewolf.”

“I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” said Allura, “but how do you know this?”

“Because I did some scrying.  We went to the place where the body was found and I contacted Griffin’s spirit and saw what he saw when he died.  And let me tell you, it wasn’t a werewolf that killed him.”

“Well, what was it, then?” said Allura, “Can you describe it?”

“It was dark, so Griffin didn’t get a good look at it.  But it was big.  Bigger than a werewolf, that’s for sure.”

“So, a bear?”

Pidge shook her head, “Bigger than that, even.  And it had these horns…”  She held up her hands near her head to illustrate, “And these eyes that glowed and it looked like…like a…”  She glanced down to think and froze.

“Like what?” said Allura.

“Like that.”

Pidge pointed down at the book on the floor by her feet.  It was open to an illustration depicting a huge, horned creature with a human grasped in its enormous hand.  The caption on the page read, “Grendel carrying his prey to his lair”.

For a moment, Pidge and Allura could barely move.  Then, Pidge scooped up the book.  “I have to show this to Hunk.”

“I have to make a phone call,” said Allura as Pidge left the room.

Allura pulled out her cell phone and called Shiro.  “Come on, please pick up, please pick up, it’s important.”

After the second ring, Shiro answered, “Allura?  Something wrong?”

“Shiro, you owe that Kogane kid an apology.”

“Hmm?  Why’s that?”

“Because I think I just figured out what actually killed James Griffin.”

[pulpitssa]

The Artistry of Wooden Offering Boxes in South Africa

In the heart of South Africa, where tradition and craftsmanship converge, there exists a profound connection between spirituality and artistry. At the intersection of these two worlds, you'll discover a remarkable entity - Pulpits SA. This renowned company, known for its exquisite range of Acrylic Pulpits, Wooden Pulpits, Acrylic Podiums, Holy Communion Cups, Pulpits Podiums Lecterns, and Holy Communion Trays, also has a hidden gem that has long been revered in the world of worship - Wooden Offering Boxes.

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[handmadeforgifts]

Twin Saints Christian Religious Keepsake. Philippians 4:13 Leather Tray. I Can D

Twin Saints Christian Religious Keepsake. Philippians 4:13 Leather Tray. I Can Do All Things Through Christ Who Strengthens Me.

This beautiful leather tray has been embossed with Philippians 4:13, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." This leather tray is a great Christian inspirational gift for any occasion. It also makes a lovely keepsake for confirmation or first holy communion. This leather valet is handcrafted in the USA from American Cowhide, and is a great place to stash small items like keys, wallets and phones. The process used to create our leather trays is a traditional leather working technique called wet forming. This process results in a semi rigid final product. This is very similar to the process used to create holsters and saddles. Our trays are made using heavy leather by design to ensure a long lasting product. All of our trays are hand crafted individually in the USA using American cowhides. Due to the handmade nature of this product there may be slight variations in the leather surface or color.

Philippians 413

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[bonfire-at-the-crossroads]

Went to a party….

(The picture is one of my collection of vintage photos - )

It was to celebrate Tori Lee’s daughter Minnie, and her ‘First Holy Confirmation’

This was a first for me, and was approached with a certain amount of trepidation. The day itself cooperated, and ancient relatives perched themselves on chairs scattered in front of the house - warming themselves in the intermittent sunshine.

Flying clouds and a stiff breeze sent a trio of tiny old ladies indoors, to perch side by side on the sofa in the parlor - for all the world like sparrows on a branch.

A table next to the fireplace was loaded down with the ubiquitous “sandwiches” - triangles of squishy white bread with mysterious pink (or yellow) filling. A plate of potato chips, some carrot sticks ( more for color and effect rather than their eat-ability…) and a tray of cupcakes with pink icing - all tempting snacks for the gathered multitudes.

Minnie and her friends galloped about the yard, and in and out again - fueled by slices of frozen pizza washed down with liters of soda pop. Pre-teen jet fuel.

We loved meeting Tori’s mom, who is an interesting character with large jewelry wearing a modernist smock in geometric panels of orange and black. She is a complete whack - and finished up some of the questions about our charming, eccentric friend.

Tori didn’t lick it off the grass.

Spent time chatting with a man who had the whitest skin I’ve ever seen. Like a sheet, as though he has no blood in his body whatsoever…. He is closer to 90 than he is to 80 - but sharp, knowledgeable, and willing to talk to strangers. A lovely guy.

The old aunties all have small gold crucifixes on chains around their necks, which peek out from lace collars, and catch the light. I find myself wondering if they put them on for the event itself, or if they wear them all the time. I’m guessing they never take them off.

Minnie seems to really like my gift.

When I was about her age, an auction box-lot of random jewelry bits and old kitchen utensils yielded up a pretty Victorian necklace looped with dangling amethysts. It’s brass, but when cleaned up and shining, is very fancy-looking.

It was a kind of pirate gold, worn by my own pre-teen self when I wanted to feel like a Queen.

It’s time to get it out of my jewelry box and back into the light. She can wear it when out doing her ballroom dancing ( yes, she is one of those kids who competes, wearing a flap of fabric with a number pinned to her back ) - she’s really quite good, with plenty of attitude to go around.

She carried it around in its little box all afternoon, and showed it to everyone…..

“It’s my birthstone!” She told her mama.

Well, I guess it worked out OK. I don’t know what’s cool right now among the pre-teen set, so I rolled the dice with this one, and covered up my lack of knowledge and money - with a gamble that seems to have paid off.

Whew.

A lovely day. Odd to have been asked to participate in such an ancient family rite-of-passage.

We are ducks out of water, but were invited to sit by the pond, and enjoy the sunlight.

Part duck Part platypus. All are welcome.

[pulpitssa]

The Elegance and Significance of Floor-Standing Offering Boxes

In a world where technology continues to advance, and digital transactions dominate the landscape, one might wonder about the place of traditional offerings in places of worship. However, for Pulpits SA, a leading manufacturer of Acrylic Pulpits, Wooden Pulpits, Acrylic Podiums, Holy Communion Cups, Pulpits Podiums Lecterns, and Holy Communion Trays, the floor-standing offering box remains not only relevant but also elegant and significant in places of worship.

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A Message on Communion

This video includes information about the celebration of Holy Communion at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church in Rutland, VT. We will be gathering in the outdoor chapel this coming Sunday and our worship team has prepared everything for this celebration.

After the consecration prayers, two communion servers will move through the crowd with the silver trays. Each person who intends to communion should take one of the communion cups. We will commune together after everyone has received the elements. Remove the plastic and consume the host. Then remove the foil and consume the grape juice. Empty cups can be disposed of in the large basket when you leave worship.

[resolved]

At the heart of the Reformed understanding of the Lord’s Supper is the sharing of the sacred meal. The medieval Mass put the emphasis on reciting the canon through which the miracle of transubstantiation took place and the consecrated host was offered up as a sacrifice for the living and the dead. As the Reformers taught it, the communion was the focal point of the service. The sign Jesus gave was the sharing of a meal and as the Reformers understood it the visual sign should look like a meal shared by the communicants. Various approaches were taken by churches to make the celebration look more like the sharing of a meal. In Strasbourg, right from the start, the altar was replaced with a table. People came forward and stood around the table as the ministers passed the bread and wine to them. In Zurich a table was set in the middle of the church in front of the pulpit. While the people remained in their seats the bread and the wine were passed to them. The church was centered around the baptismal font, the pulpit, and the table. In the Rhineland, the Netherlands, and Scotland special tables were set up in the front of the church and the people left their seats, sat down at these tables, and passed trays of bread and the cups from one to another.

Hughes Oliphant Old, Holy communion : in the piety of the Reformed church

[zachknottscuriosities]

Portrait and Self Portrait Analysis - Presentation Talking Points

Noma Osula is a 22 Nigerian portrait photographer who I discovered through his feature in British Journal of Photography’s ‘Ones to Watch’ issue.

Osula is most well-known for his portraiture work which are very distinctive and unique, they are punctured by contrast, awkward gesture, dark humour, forms, characters, shapes, and actions - creating an offbeat aesthetic. He explores how people portray themselves, through his use

He draws a lot of inspiration from Nigerian culture “this projection of Africa as a completely dark and primitive continent, as well as what we represent, is obviously incomplete and inaccurate“says Noma Osula - so his work aims to show his country and his own heritage as the vibrant and complex culture that it is.

The idea behind my response to this portrait is to draw on the elements the photographer uses to create such engaging images.

Noma - Heritage

In Noma Osula’s portrait he has portrayed the heritage of the subject through the use of his native clothing and jewellery.

Noma - Dark Humour

I feel as though the dark humour in his image comes from the placement of the bold pink bubble gum in the models’ mouth, a western invention which is a stark contrast to the traditional clothing the model is wearing.

Noma – Awkwardness

One of the elements Noma Osula uses to create his distinctive and unique portraits is awkwardness, shown in this image by the model’s hands being placed neatly in his lap – which isn’t a natural sitting position and makes the subject come across in a formal manner.

Noma – Action

Noma Osula was also quoted to say that he is interested in actions within his portraits, the action gives more life to the image as the model can be seen to be actively doing something. This may allow the audience to easier relate to the character in the scene.

Zach - Heritage

My element of heritage in this image is the use of my grandad’s holy communion cup and the silver cross around my neck as one side of my family is religious, this also allows the viewer to gain an insight in to my life.

Zach - Dark Humour

I have also used dark humour in this image by creating my own ‘church altar’ – the lap tray represents the altar in a church, on top of which I have positioned my version of communion bread and wine. The wine is represented by the can of fosters, which I have pretended to pour in the cup, which is a blatant dis-use of my family’s heritage and creates a discordant air about the photo. I have represented the bread by a microwave tikka masala. The choice of these objects again shows something in to my life, representing British university life and the way that I live.

Zach – Awkwardness

I always create a sense of awkwardness in my self-portrait by making direct eye contact with the camera whilst drinking from the cup, making the viewer feel as though I am looking at them and perhaps creating an uncomfortable mood. The eye contact also helps to make the portrait more engaging,

Zach – Action

I too created an action within my self-portrait to further respond to his work. I posed with the communion cup raised to my lips to depict myself as drinking.­

Composition

I have deliberately positioned myself off to one side in the frame to create an off-beat aesthetic like Noma Osula’s portraits, this is supported by all of the other ‘off’ elements in my self portrait. 

Location

The location of my self portrait is my bed, chosen to give the viewer another sneak peak in to my life, as a bed is a very personal and intimate setting. It also says something about how I live, spending my time eating in bed. 

[trinaouellette-blog]

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