#Masonic Rites

[officialurban]

The Works of Albert G. Mackey

Masonic Encyclopedias, History, and Complete Accounts

Various Freemasonic Encyclopedias, Complete Historical Accounts, Symbolism, and more. Albert Mackey was a 33rd Degree Freemason who wrote extensively on the craft during the early 1900s. Some of the best and most complete accounts of the TRUE DOCTRINES of FREEMASONRY.

[chasing-chimeras]

And if I said Apostate Theo x Noble. Grey warden(former templar) Liam.......

idk who you are but i would propose on both knees (and also inform you that a few months ago i typed up an eighteen page outline for almost this exact concept)

[wishecho]

jake mason and will solace both bonding over not having a body of the counselor before them to burn

[idontliketomatoesleavemealone]

shout out to my girl johanna for naming her son franz. This is beautiful

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

"THE FERTILITY AND DEATH SYMBOLISM IN THE "KILLING OF THE KING" RITE WHICH IS A PART OF GREENING RITUALISM THAT HAS TO DO WITH JFK..."

PIC INFO: Spotlight on a graphic design piece titled “11.22.1963 - The Day My Father Became (A) Man” -- King-Kill/33°," artwork by Sakevi Yokoyama for Beast Arts International. 

"The "science of names" word wizardry forms only one segment of the science of symbolism used by Masons. The JFK assassination encounters this science in a decisive way and contains a veritable nightmare of symbol-complexes having to do with violence, perversion, conspiracy, death and degradation. These elements are important not only as cause-and-effect in the murder of a president but in the ensuing reaction of the people of America and the world.

The fertility and death symbolism in the "Killing of the King" rite which is part of Greening Ritualism that has to do with JFK, has been suppressed because examination of it must necessarily link it to "Freemasonry" and its mysticism, as well as to the political influence it exerts. Obviously this would do some damage to public confidence in:

a.) Masonic progressivism. i.e. Liberty, equality, fraternity.

b.) Those who have shielded the conspirators.

c.) The entire mental concept that passes for knowledge about the genuine nature of the government of the United States."

-- "KING-KILL/33°,"Masonic Symbolism in the Assassination of John F. Kennedy" by James Shelby Downard with Michael A. Hoffman II

Sources: www.picuki.com/media/2977504328359501040 & www.whale.to/b/kingkill_33.html.

[thrashkink-coven]

This is common knowledge for anyone on the r/demonolatrypractices subreddit but I realized that a lot of you aren’t on there and are missing out on some great resources, so if you’re looking for reading material on demonology and demonolatry definitely check out the website below.

These basic resources come straight from Demonology the subreddit. I did not compile any of this, I’m just sharing for the folks on Tumblr. (Honestly even if you aren’t fond of that sub you should definitely take advantage of their deep dives by experienced practitioners, it really is a great resource):

Some book recommendations

Essential Background:

*On the Hieratic Art* by Proclus

*The Testament of Solomon*

*The Picatrix*

*Three Books of Occult Philosophy* by Agrippa

*The Fourth Book of Occult Philosophy* by Pseudo-Agrippa

Classic Grimoires:

*The Sworn Book of Honorius (Liber Juratus)*

*The Book of the Sacred Magic of Abramelin the Mage*

*The Heptameron* by Pietro d'Abano

*The Greater Key of Solomon*

*The Lesser Key of Solomon (Lemegeton)*

*Grimorium Verum*

For Spiritual/Theological Grounding:

*Timaeus* by Plato

*Parmenides* by Plato

*Chaldean Oracles*

*The Corpus Hermeticum*

*On the Mysteries (De Mysteriis)* by Iamblichus

*Psychic Self-Defense* by Dion Fortune

*Initiation Into Hermetics* by Franz Bardon

Good Contemporary Books:

*Secrets of the Magickal Grimoires* by Aaron Leitch

*Pandemonium* by Jake Stratton-Kent

*Stellas Daemonum* by David Crowhurst

About Lilith:

The Mighty Book List:

Introductory guides (the books that have their own systems of working with spirits included in them, therefore you can try working with spirits if you have any one of these books):

"The Complete Book of Demonolatry" by S. Connolly, (I consider this to be essential)

"Lucifer and The Hidden Demons: A Practical Grimoire from The Order of Unveiled Faces" by Theodore Rose,

"Demons of Magick: Three Practical Rituals for Working with The 72 Demons" by Gordon Winterfield

"Consorting with Spirits: Your Guide to Working with Invisible Allies" by Jason Miller.

Each one of these books will have wildly different approaches. Try them, see what works for you and what doesn't.

Classic grimoires (these are good to read through to see the working with demons through a historical lens. Some people still use methods in these books, most new books will at the very least borrow elements, such as names, sigils and correspondences):

"The Book of the Sacred Magic of Abramelin the Mage" (Dehn ed. is recommended)

"The Greater Key of Solomon",

"The Lesser Key of Solomon" aka Lemegeton (Peterson ed. is best, Mathers/Crowley is its own thing worth reading but incomplete),

"Pseudomonarchia Daemonum" (repeats a lot of information that Lesser Key has, but is older, so worth a read if you're into history of occult),

"Grimorium Verum" (Peterson ed. or JSK's "True Grimoire"),

"The Grand Grimoire" (aka Red Dragon)

"The Grimoire of St. Cyprian",

" The Goetia of Dr. Rudd".

Books that are good to read for general occult/ magick background:

"The Egyptian Book of the Dead",

"Chaldean Oracles",

"On the Mysteries" by Iamblichus,

"The Greek Magical Papyri",

"The Testament of Solomon",

"The Picatrix",

"Three Books of Occult Philosophy" by Agrippa,

"The Fourth Book of Occult Philosophy" by Pseudo-Agrippa,

"Transcendental Magic" by Eliphas Levi,

"Psychic Self-Defense" by Dion Fortune,

"Initiation into Hermetics" by Franz Bardon,

"The Golden Dawn" by Regardie/Greer,

"Chicken Qabalah" by Lon Milo Duquette,

"Liber Null and Psychonaut" by Peter J. Carroll.

Contemporary reference books (dictionaries, history books on a spirit and other similar compilations):

"The Dictionary of Demons: Expanded and Revised: Names of the Damned" by Michelle Belanger,

"Book of the Fallen: Satanic Theory, Ethics, and Practice" by Martin McGreggor,

"Lucifer: Princeps" by Peter Grey,

"Rites of Lucifer" by Asenath Mason,

"The Goetia Devils" by Rev. Cain,

"Secrets of the Magickal Grimoires: The Classical Texts of Magick Deciphered" by Aaron Leitch,

"Pandemonium: A Discordant Concordance of Diverse Spirit Catalogues" by Jake Stratton-Kent.

"Stellas Daemonum" by David Crowhurst,

"Demonolator's Handbook" by Mirta Wake.

Books to do with evocation (make sure you know the difference between evoking and invoking), qliphoth, and other intermediate practices:

"The Practice of Magical Evocation" by Franz Bardon,

"Qabalah, Qliphoth, and Goetic Magic" by Thomas Karlsson

"Goetic Evocation" by Steve Savedow,

"Lake of Fire" by S. Connolly,

"Tree of Qliphoth" by Asenath Mason

[mortalfaerie]

hi here's my take on the gravity falls kids grown up since they're 25 now

Mason "Dipper" Pines

after wierdmaggedan and disposing of the journals, he still has a keen interest in mysteries, just not necessarily of a supernatural nature. he's aware of the supernatural that's all around them, but content to let it rest.

he gets really into history and archeology, and bonds more with ford about this - even though ford is a physicist, he appreciates dipper's enthusiasm

he's trans (i'll die on this hill) and continues to socially transition in high school, and starts testosterone around 16.

he also starts going more by his chosen name (mason, choosing one that starts similarly to mabel) but still lets close friends and family call him dipper. he stops covering his birthmark, though he still likes hats

he's suspicious of mabel's new friendship with pacifica in high school, but he warms up to pacifica ("paz," as they end up calling her) over time. he realizes they have a lot in common and she's actually a lot of help on his mystery hunting

paz's blooming interest in political science lends itself very much to his interest in history, and they spend lots of hours as teen up late on the phone together (seemingly everyone but them can see the writing on the wall, but it takes a few more years for them to realize their feelings)

he continues to be a massive nerd, and has at least one dd&md podcast he religiously listens to. he and mabel go to conventions in california together.

his favorite place remains gravity falls over the years, and he goes back at least once each summer.

he and pacifica both commit to UCLA and become closer there. he majors in archeology & anthropology. despite their very different social circles, they seek each other out. she has at least one twat boyfriend in freshman year that dipper confronts on her behalf (even though she didn't want him to)

he and paz almost kiss at his going away party for a semester abroad in greece, but he panics and runs off, leaving her confused and hurt. it takes a while for them to regain their footing, but they end up hooking up the night he comes back from greece. due to a comedy of errors they don't end up *going all the way* that night, and it's not until they're at the pool a week later that she realizes he's trans when she sees his top surgery scars (thanks rockslide @ ao3)

he was 99% sure she knew so it's a surprise moment for him, and he worries she won't be interested now, but she's pretty non-plussed. they start dating that summer.

her parents disapprove and she ends up putting her foot down and cutting them off for how they treat him, and his family ends up practically adopting her. they are each other's biggest supporters in everything.

he gets offered a spot in a phd program in london, which stresses him out until he finds out that paz applied for a posting at the us embassy in london and got it, so they move to england together

he studies pre-modern civilizations and religious rites (a la stonehenge, etc) and has just finished his coursework and moved from phd student to candidate. he's just started to write his dissertation on potentially matriarchal societies in pre-modern britain using burial site data from major burial sites of religious significance.

he and paz have a cat name tyrone, or ty. they've been together for almost four years now, and he's thinking about popping the question - they're young (25), but he's pretty certain that for him, it's always going to be paz.

[heykaya]

Degrees of Lewdity Screenshots

See also: Degrees of Lewdity - Text Based Masterpost

💛: Appears more than once on the list.

❗️: Contains World Lore

——————————— ~* Love Interests *~ ———————————

🌻 Alex the Farmhand 🤠

Drunk Alex Dialogue

Alex Somnophilia scene

Alex reacts to a Remy related tattoo

Breaking down to Alex

💵 Avery the Businessperson 🥂

💛 Avery vs Robin

💛 Whitney vs Avery

Meeting Avery (Park, Street Harassment)

Rejecting High Rage Avery

Avery's Date - Game Night: Intro

❗️Avery's Date - Game Night: Avery Wins/Remy's Masked Party

Avery's Date - Game Night: Bailey Wins

Avery's Date - Game Night: Leighton Wins

❗️ Avery's Date - Game Night: Quinn Wins

Avery's Date - Fine Dining

Avery's Date - Ballroom Show Off

Avery's Date - Hotel Room

Dismissing Avery

🌲 Eden the Hunter 🪵

Meeting Eden through Bailey

Recaptured by Eden - Low Love, No Permission (Forest)

Recaptured by Eden - Town Stalking Event

Recaptured by Eden - Town (Low Love)

Recaptured by Eden - Town (High Love)

Eden locks you in a cage

Making Breakfast for Eden

Bathtime with Eden

Eden Re-Collars You

Eden hunts you in the forest (virgin PC)

Eden comforts high trauma PC

Eden saves you from the Underground Farm

Eden saves you from the Asylum - Bomb Method

Eden saves you from the Asylum - Towel Method

Eden saves you from a non-con encounter in the forest

Going on a date in town

Scamming Eden

👁 Kylar the Loner 🦠

💛 Sydney and Kylar kiss

Meeting Kylar (Bullied at school, Bumping into him)

Kylar sniffs your bedsheets

Kylar sees you streaking in the park

🧸 Robin the Orphan 👶

💛 Avery vs Robin

Meeting Robin (Shopping Centre, Lemonade Stand, School Canteen, Orphanage)

Rescuing Robin from the Docks

Bailey's Punishment (PC & Robin) - Intro

Bailey's Punishment (PC & Robin) - Punishment 1: Dinner Party

Bailey's Punishment (PC & Robin) - Punishment 2: Eden & The Landfill ⟡ Part 1 ⟡ Part 2 ⟡

Bailey's Punishment (PC & Robin) - Punishment 3: Remy's Farm & The Pillory ⟡ Part 1 ⟡ Part 2 ⟡ Part 3 ⟡ Part 4 ⟡

Bailey's Punishment (PC & Robin) - Punishment 4: The Underground Brothel

Robin's Trauma

Robin finds the player at the Brothel

⛪️ Sydney the Faithful/the Fallen 👅

💛 Sydney and Kylar kiss

Meeting Sydney (School Library, Passing Out, Attending Mass)

Leighton's Spanking

Swimsuit Shopping

Defends you from a Perverted Monk

❗️Temple Advancement - PC becomes an initiate ⟡ Part 1 ⟡ Part 2 ⟡ Part 3 ⟡

Sydney comforts high trauma PC

Passing out in the school library

Pure Path: Rite of Promise

Pure Path: Rite of Promise - Broken Promise/Cheating on Sydney

Sydney and Doctor Harper

Sydney gets bullied in school

🖕 Whitney the Bully 👄

💛 Whitney vs Avery

Dismissing Whitney + seeing him in the Underground Brothel

Sending Whitney to the Pillory

——————————— ~* NPCs *~ ———————————

Bailey the Caretaker

Annoying Bailey

Bailey's Payments when you live at the temple

Bailey at the Park

Doren the English Teacher

Doren's Concern (unlocking Doren's flat)

Jordan the Monk/Priest

Watching Jordan Shower

Jordan gives you oral (Fallen Angel Transformation)

Mason the Swimming Teacher

Unlocking Mason's Pond

Hanging out with Mason

Everybody swims nude in school

Locker Raid + Mason's Shame (stealing underwear & getting dirty with Mason)

Mason Removes Winter's Chastity Belt

Leighton the Headteacher

Blackmailing Leighton

Being Blackmailed by Leighton

Sending Leighton to the Pillory

Mickey the Hacker

Meeting Mickey (Police Infiltration Quest, Negative Fame)

Remy the Farmer

Returning to the Underground Farm after escaping

River the Maths Teacher

Unlocking the soup kitchen

Maths Competition

Masturbating in class to make River faint

River's Soup Kitchen scenes

Meeting River (School, Soup Kitchen)

Winter the History Teacher

Meeting Winter (School, Museum)

Masturbating in Class - Winter's Chastity Belt

Wooden Horse Demonstration

Ducking Stool Demonstration

Wren the Smuggler

Meeting Wren (Docks, Remy's Estate, Prison)

Wren cums first

screenshots are free to repost on other websites/to use in your own content. no permission or credit needed :)

(If any links are broken please let me know.)

[quizzyisdone]

The Colour Red (Pt. II) | Jason Hudson x Fem! Bell x Russell Adler

Chapter Title: Bad Moon Risin' Word Count: 3.7k Pairing: Jason Hudson x Fem! Bell x Russell Adler Masterlist Synopsis: Bell and Adler arrive at the safehouse in West Germany, where she meets the rest of her team, save Alex Mason and Frank Woods. The team gets down to business -- they've all gathered to take down the elusive Perseus, the infamous soviet agent whom they know next to nothing about, save for that he's planning something big. That much, Adler is sure of. To figure out their next move, Adler and Park use a memory recollection technique to help Bell recall Operation: Fracture Jaw, yet another memory Bell had lost due to her head injury two months prior. A/N: Hey! I'm back, totally not inspired by the new Black Ops VI trailer at all. Like, at all. Anyways, here is the next installment of my personal favorite series, The Colour Red. Keep in mind this is a slowburn fic, and sorry about the lack of Hudson in this chapter. I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Strong language, mentions of weapons, canon-typical violence.

**Title inspired by "Bad Moon Risin'" by Credence Clearwater Revival

[Part One] [Part Two]

You don't need to read part one to understand this chapter, btw

The car halted to a full stop as Bell fluttered open her eyes, Adler lightly shook her shoulder, stirring her even further awake. 

“Bell. Welcome to West Berlin” He gave a half-hearted smile, a cigarette between his teeth. Bell groggily roused herself from the passenger seat, watching Adler closely as he held the lighter close to his face, letting a puff of smoke blow back in the wind behind him.

The light from the flame illuminated the scarred half of his face, and she could see that where he had shaven was uneven and choppy, a stark contrast to the close shave on the “normal” side of his face. Still rather handsome, barring his scars. He had a classically attractive, well structured face, resembling that of movie stars such as Robert Redford. Blonde hair, blue eyes and very charismatic. He must have many women wrapped around his finger back in the states, Bell presumed.

Adler took one last glance at her, then began to approach a woman that was leaning against an old, worn garage door. Bell took in her features as well. 

She had an uncanny familiarity about her. She had silky, jet black hair cut and styled into a practical bob, unusually tall but athletically built, and she sported pragmatic yet stylish clothing. She had delicate, feminine features but still yet appeared to be able to keep up with the likes of a black ops legend such as Adler -- a strange dichotomy between graceful and deadly. 

Adler had told Bell that she was a legend in her own rite at MI6, that’s why he had requested her for the op. Apparently, it was true that while she was known for her lethality and pretty appearance, it was her brain, not the obvious honey trap she is, that he was interested in. Adler had joked several times that she was a walking cliche, a classic femme fatale type.  

The more Bell seemed to take in her appearance, her shattered memory would begin to piece itself together again. Her face. A red door. A jungle. Sterile white lights. Televisions. War footage. Then nothing. Whenever she was on the precipice of piecing her memory back together, it seemed it would shatter again.

Adler glanced back. “You comin’?” He said with a slight frown. Sheepishly, Bell nodded, not having realized she spent too much time what would appear to the others as staring into space for no apparent reason. 

Bell hurried to catch up with him, trailing behind Adler closely even as the oddly familiar, yet bitter scent of tobacco filled her nose. That closeness, she wondered, it may be obvious to Adler, which she could live with, but would it escape the notice of the others? She hated that, her clinginess to him, but it made some sense (at least that is how Bell would justify it) -- Adler was the only kind face she could remember after her fall. 

Although she didn’t want to admit it, she preferred to be close to him at all times. His presence was comforting, the anxiety she felt would fade away in an instant -- she could almost forget that she couldn’t remember. One might mistake the connection for romantic, as Hudson, their handler had pointed out rather astutely (and irritably) before they departed from Langley today.

 Bell couldn't help but notice the parallels either, he very much played the part of her knight in shining armor, saving her from sure death, never having left her side while she healed, gently guiding her as she navigated regaining her lost memory. Although she must admit she has lingered on such an idea, Bell recognized Adler very likely felt no such way towards her.

She knew his feelings towards her. They had been through hell and back together, saved each other's ass, and understood each other like no one else. Bell knew where she stood, something more than a friend but less than a lover. It was a strange, blurry purgatory between platonic affection and passionate love.  

He had helped her remember the basics. With his guidance, she now knew that her name was Anabelle Meyers, hence the name “Bell”. She was a cryptographer and a linguist working for MI6, she had spent the better part of a year in Vietnam with Adler when she began working a joint operation with MACV-SOG and MI6 and they’ve been friends for 13 years. Two months ago, on a solo operation, she had taken a long, hard fall, hitting her head. Bell would've died if Adler hadn't been there by random chance. Bell could recall that in perfect detail now, although it was fuzzy just a week ago. 

“Park.” He acknowledged and nodded towards her. He glanced back, noticing how Bell followed so closely behind him and smiled to himself. It gave him some kind of pride that she leaned on him as a protector of sorts. 

“She looks familiar.” Bell whispered as soon as they were out of earshot of Park. 

Adler stopped in his tracks for naught but a second, “Maybe you saw her at the Century House in London back in the day.” She knew that it wasn’t likely they had never been acquainted, nor ever having even met each other, but Bell let the conversation go -- chalking it up as some kind of weird deja vu nonsense. 

When the door opened it revealed a large warehouse-like room with a table set in the middle, a bulletin board with the face of man that was supposedly Perseus and a giant red circle around it (Bell quickly noticed how the picture gave her an uneasy pit in her stomach and her head would begin to hurt), an array of weapons upon a wall guarded by chain link fence with a lock, and all the other stereotypical features befitting a CIA safehouse. 

“We’ll talk later, okay?” Adler whispered to Bell as he approached the gathering of folks around the table set in the middle. “Bell, this is Helen Park, Lawrence Sims who you’ve already met, and Eleazar Azoulay. We just call him Lazar, though.” He introduced her to them.

Lazar gave her a friendly but quiet hello, Park nodded, and Sims simply stared daggers at her before turning his gaze back to Adler. “Mason and Woods are finishing some business in Kiev, but you’ll meet them later.”

“Do I know them?” Bell asked meekly and Park cocked an eyebrow, smirking to herself as she glanced at Adler, silently beckoning him to answer the question. 

“Ah,” Adler chuckled lightly. “No, you know them by reputation, but not, ah, personally.” Bell nodded in response before letting him continue. He turned back to the rest of the group, while Bell stood snug behind Adler. “There’s been a surge in Russian chatter for the past 48 hours. The CIA and DoD are tapping their inside sources for anything substantial, but no leads of Perseus so far.”

“MI6 has come up empty handed as well.�� Park added.

“We’ll have to start somewhere, so we’re going back to 1968, Vietnam.” He strode towards to the bulletin board, pointing at a polaroid picture of Sims and Adler sitting side by side, labeled Operation Fracture Jaw. “One our closest encounters with Perseus. Bell, you don’t remember this, of course, but you were there.”

“Fracture Jaw, what a steaming pile of shit that one was.” Sims grumbled.

“Also the first time where Perseus pinged our radar. While you were on the ground, you dug up some intel on him.” Adler continued, he held a folder with a dried, bloody handprint and Cyrillic printed on the front. “We’re gonna help jog your memory so you can crack this. At the time, the CIA’s best analysts couldn’t decode that thing, but we’re gonna have you take a shot.” Adler placed his hand on Bell’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. 

“Yeah.” Sims scoffed. “If even Weaver couldn’t crack it, what makes you think she can?” He had said it with such venom, such doubt that it made Bell wonder what had happened between them. She made a mental note to ask Adler about it later, but for the moment, she hardened her gaze, attempting to make herself seem less vulnerable than she truly felt.

“It can’t hurt, Sims. She’s always been one of the best, you know that.” Adler said pointedly. “Anyways, we’re gonna use a hypnosis technique. While our little Bell will be in a hypnotic state, I will be reading the operation report, retelling every detail of what happened when she and you were boots on ground. Theoretically, she should remember it all and be able to decode it.”

Sims shrugged, Park and Lazar nodded in affirmation. The group disbanded wordlessly, Park headed over to the computer by the gun rack with Lazar trailing behind and Sims went over the gate that locked the chain link fence. That had left her and Adler, as he lit another cigarette (his fourth in the last couple of hours, Bell noted) and sat at a chair in front of the evidence board. 

He stared quietly at it, his mouth was set in a frown but his sunglasses had made it impossible to even begin to guess what the man was thinking. 

“Adler,” Bell spoke quietly, tapping his shoulder. Adler smiled ever so slightly, the small gesture was a welcome change from Sims’ behavior just a moment ago. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything, kid.” He said coolly, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“That memory exercise we’re doing, we can use it to recover some of my memories?” A glint of hope appeared in her chestnut eyes.

He chuckled, low and husky. “Ain’t that exactly what we’re doing, Bell?” She rolled her eyes but gave a small laugh in return.

“You know what I mean. Like, the memories that aren’t from war or anything like that. Something a bit happier.”

Adler grimaced then sighed, ashing his cigarette and sitting up straighter, and the small smile that appeared on Bell’s face vanished, like she knew he was about to tell her some unfortunate news. The pair sat in an awkward silence as Adler thought about how to break it to her.

“We can’t really.” He reached for her hand, giving it a light squeeze before pulling away. “The memory exercise only works when you have either one or two things; a written documentation of a memory that we can actually get our hands on or someone who was also there that can recall the memory and tell it to ya.”

“Oh.���

“When we found you, you didn’t have a journal or anything on you. Not even dog tags. No one would have been able to identify you if I wasn’t there.” He pursed his lips, offering a small apologetic smile. “Sorry, Bell.”

“Well I mean, we’ve been friends for a while. What do you know about me? Anything about my family?” The hopefulness had returned to Bell’s eyes, and Adler could feel a lump forming in his throat as he thought deeply. 

“Uh, well,” He cleared his throat. “You never spoke anything of them really, it seemed a sore spot for ya so none of us ever really pried.” She glanced down, looking utterly defeated as she sniffled. Adler tried to lighten the conversation at least a little. This wasn’t the place nor the time. “I know that you used to have a nicotine addiction worse than me.”

Bell chuckled. “I still crave them all the time.”

Adler chuckled, clapping her shoulder. “Tell you what,” He said, reaching into his pocket to grab his cigarettes. He handed one to her and she placed it between her teeth, giggling a little as he lit it for her. “I think you deserve at least one. Old habits die hard.” She took a drag, blowing a playful ‘O’ into his face. “Atta girl. I’ll get you a pack tomorrow.”

“I knew I liked you for some reason.” She smiled, the first genuine smile Adler had ever seen out of the woman.

“I’ve always been an enabler of your bad habits.” 

__

January 26th, 1968

Camp Haskins, South Vietnam

0700

“Bell, time to wake up” A raspy voice had startled her awake, the boot of the offender shaking the fold up chair she had practically passed out in. She groggily opened her eyes to find her new teammate with a shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s crank time.” 

“I’m up” She grumbled, rubbing her eyes. He swiped the chair back to the ground where Bell had been leaning, causing the legs to harshly meet the floor and she nearly fell forward. The man chuckled lightly.

“C’mon sleeping beauty, you knew we were doing this.”

“Yeah, I know.” The exhaustion was still evident in her voice as she rose from the chair, grabbing the M16 she had left leaning against the wall. She followed behind him, taking in the scene around her as she left the tent, the morning sun already beating against her skin.

It hadn’t been her first choice, being assigned as an agent working boots on ground with MACV-SOG, and it certainly wasn’t her first choice to be placed in the middle of buttfuck nowhere Vietnam. Her work was typically confined to that of a desk in an office, in the comfort of air conditioning and without the threat of an enemy attack at a moment’s notice. However, given her limited but notable military work, her handler thought she would be wasted back home in the comfort of an office in London. 

Her handler was of course right, but she wished he wasn’t as the stench of gunsmoke, gasoline, and body odor filled her nose. She watched about a dozen shirtless, grimy men going about their business. Most had simply ignored her, but a few had leered at her as she passed by, perhaps bedazzled by the first clean and somewhat attractive thing they had probably seen with their own eyes in months, Bell cockily mused to herself. 

“Camp Haskins, what a sausage fest.” Bell said quietly, chuckling.

“I heard that.” Adler yelled back good naturedly, and Bell half walked, half jogged to catch up with him. “You should be thankful, this place is a fuckin’ oasis compared to the shitstorm out there. Those boys keep it that way.”

“Yeah, yeah ‘God bless our troops’ and all that shit they keep telling us.” She jabbed Adler’s arm and he laughed softly. 

“I know it’s not what you’re used to, but your handler could’ve done worse for you.” They approached the landing zone, her other new teammate, and Adler’s best friend, she had determined based on their interactions, sat on the ledge of a helicopter ready and waiting for them. 

“Finally found Bell?” He hollered out over the sound of the whirling blades of the craft, without looking up from the magazine he was reading. Lawrence Sims was his name, he had dark skin with large, almost doe-like black eyes to match. He wasn’t a looker, but he had a friendly, jovial feel about him. Adler approached him, snatched the magazine from his hand to take a lingering glance at the lewd picture within. 

“That shit’s gonna make you go blind, Sims.”  He threw the magazine back at Sims as Bell loaded herself in. 

“That’s why I want it all right up here.” He replied jokingly, pointing his finger to his temple and shooting a playful, friendly wink at Bell.

“You’re not helping Bell’s accusation that this place is a sausage fest.”

“I’d say she’s made an astute observation, then.” Sims clapped his hand on her shoulder. She returned their grin. However, as the pilots began to load in, the mood shifted dramatically with it, like someone had sucked all the humor out of the situation and brought them back to the real world. Adler took this as his cue. 

“We got a new assignment. FOB 4 Ripcord is holding a vital asset that Charlie wants real bad.” He shouted over the deafening sound. 

“What kinda asset we talking about?” Sims asked. 

“The kind you don't ask about. Ripcord has been taking a hell of a beating, so it's our job to secure the asset and get the fuck out.” Bell began to stiffen and her palms began to sweat inexplicably, which Adler seemed to take notice of. “Relax. We got fast fliers providing combat air support for this mission. It'll be a walk in the park.”

“I’m holding you to that.” She said, putting on her headset as Adler took his leave. He climbed in the helicopter just opposite of them, and with that, about half the armada began to lift off. The chatter rang loud through the headset.

“Badger-niner-one good to go.”

“Badger-niner-two clear to go.”

“Badger-niner-three rotors up.”

Sims shuffled a bit, pulling a cassette tape from his pocket. “You like music?” He asked. Bell nodded, a lump beginning to form in her throat. “Good because I was gonna play it anyways.” He inserted the tape into the helicopter’s radio. He bobbed his head to the beat, singing to himself. His voice sounded muffled, the chatter over the radio began to sound more distant and then eventually, nonexistent. The only sound she could truly make out was the lyrics to the song Sims had played.

I see the bad moon a-risin' I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin' I see bad times today

She felt sick, nauseous, the sound of the music only worsening the deep pit that began to build in her stomach, she began to sweat, hyperventilate, her vision became blurry, all the colors merging with the blinding light of the rising sun until-

__

Present Day

“Shit.” An indiscernible voice cursed, and with that, she felt a sharp jab on some unidentifiable place on her body and all faded into darkness again.

__

January 12th, 1968

“You all sitting comfortably?” Adler’s voice quirked up over the radio.

“Why do I feel like you’re about to tell us some bad news?” Bell quipped, noting how her palms were no longer sweaty the way they were just a second ago, calm had overcome her senses once more as she glanced around her. No one seemed to notice her little episode. Good.

“Because you’re a smart girl, Bell. But the news isn't bad. In fact it could be very, very good. The asset at Ripcord is gonna have to wait a little while. We're breaking off from the armada. Taking a detour.” 

Sims raised his eyebrows at this new development. “And... that's good because?”

“A source tipped us off that there may be a heavy hitter from town, a Soviet operative known as Perseus.” 

Bell’s head began to hurt again, the pain teetering on intolerable but she attempted to ignore it for the moment. However, the pain seemed to get worse and worse the more she tried not to think about it, and once again, her vision became blurry and all colors became one again.

“First time Perseus pinged our radar…”

__

Present Day

Bell found herself back in bed, the overhead light shining directly into her eyes again with a pounding headache to boot. She tentatively lifted her head and rolled onto her side, confused as to how she even ended up here. One moment, she was smoking with Adler and the next she was here. 

“Oh God…” She groaned painfully, grabbing the water bottle that had been left on the table adjacent to her bed, gulping down nearly half the bottle in one go. 

After she had come to, she began to hear the muffled voices from outside the door, although most of what they were saying was unintelligible, she managed to make out some words and phrases.

“...too much…”

“...resistance…try again soon” 

“...need something to…won’t be happy…” 

Bell couldn’t make out anymore, and the pounding in her skull overpowered her curiosity and she laid back down. She closed her eyes, yearning to let sleep take over her body once more when the door opened, Park and Adler walked in, both staring at her.

Adler’s eyes were of course, unreadable through his signature sunglasses but his expression was set into that of frustration, while Park’s seemed more confused than anything, her brow furrowed as if she was working out some complicated problem in her head.

“How are you feeling, Bell?” Park asked clinically. 

“Like I got hit by a bus.” She whined, Park nodded in assent as she scribbled something in a notebook.

“That’s to be expected.” Park replied, not looking up from what she was writing. Adler cleared his throat as he sat at the foot of the bed, beckoning Park to put the pen down. “Forgive me, I’ve just been documenting the recovery of your memories.” She smiled. “I have a vested interest in your case, seeing as the methods we are using to help you remember are relatively new and-”

“Cut to the chase, Park.” Adler interrupted, and Park sighed in frustration at his impatience. 

“The exercise we attempted tonight wasn’t as successful as we had hoped.” Park explained, reaching into her pocket to hand Bell two blue-colored pills. “For your head, love. You had some kind of reaction at the mention of Perseus during recollection that disrupted the hypnotic state. Pitiful thing, really. Your subconscious must have fairly negative feelings regarding your time spent with Adler in Vietnam.”

“That makes two of us, Bell.” Adler commented, the distaste evident in his tone as he stared off. “Not my favorite time to remember either.”

“Well, I do believe recollection can still be therapeutic for Bell and is essential to the task at hand. Get some sleep Bell, we’ll pick up where we left off in the morning,”  Park gave a courteous smile and left the small, sorry excuse for a room, closing the door behind her. Silence hung in the air for a moment as Bell and Adler were left alone.

“I’m counting on you, Bell. Get some good sleep, need ya sharp for this.” Adler broke the silence, standing from where he sat and heading for the door as well. As he turned the handle, he looked back towards Bell. “Remember, we’ve got a job to do.”

As she fell back asleep, the lyrics for the rest of that song tauntingly played again and again in her head. 

Hope you got your things together Hope you are quite prepared to die Looks like we're in for nasty weather One eye is taken for an eye

Tags: @mayasnowforest @kult6 -- I know you guys asked to be tagged like two years ago, but here y'all are <3

[gravedirtandbriarthorns]

Going insane relistening to the finale and Wow, you sure do get to choose what devours you, huh? Like that was obvious on a lot of fronts (Paige is devoured by the starving god she chose to birth, Hayward dies having chosen to put his faith in Paige and follow her to the ends of the earth, Val is consumed by the power of the choice she made to become a saint, Faulkner chose the image of his own self-importance when it mattered and he drowned for it)

But man. Carpenter didn't hit me immediately until it clicked that like. Yeah, she's been walking towards this the whole time but it's because of the choice she made to return to the parish of tide and flesh so long ago. She let Mason convince her to choose to come back into the fold, and from that point she's always been walking to where she ends: gunned down by government soldiers on the banks of the White Gull trying to remember how her peoples final death rites went. Like that's the scene that quote comes from, isn't it. Her friend at the diner joking about how the best you can hope for is getting to choose what devours you in the end? Right before she chooses the thing that puts her on the path to her inevitable death.

And that's just like. Yeah.

[scotianostra]

The Construction of Rosslyn chapel began on 20th September 1456.

Properly known as the Collegiate Chapel of St Matthew in the village of Roslin, Midlothian, this is just a couple of miles from where I grew up.

The building of the chapel is sometimes incorrectly given as ten years before, but that date comes from the chapel’s receiving its founding charter from Rome.

We are very lucky that Rosslyn Chapel remains intact, as we see it today, you only have to look around Scotland at the ruins of our Abbeys destroyed during the Reformation, Rosslyn was closed from around 1560,The chapel’s altars were destroyed in 1592 but the main structure is thought to have survived and any real damage was avoided.

The chapel was built by The Sinclair family and has been linked with the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon, that’s the Knights Templar to you and I, the order was disbanded around 150 years before construction but symbols, such as the “Two riders on a single horse” that appear on the Seal of the Knights Templar, can be found on the building.

Rosslyn Chapel was constructed almost entirely in stone, with no structural timber except within the much later Victorian baptistery added to the west end of the chapel. The chapel is thought to be only part of what was intended to be a much larger church, and it exhibits immense historic, architectural and cultural value. The extent of carved stonework both internally and externally makes this little chapel truly unique. Though incomplete, it took around 40 years to build, and has the largest number of Green Man carvings of any medieval chapel in Europe.

The carvings of the chapel have been the subject of much speculation and conjecture, as Christian symbolism and other references are interspersed throughout the building. In 1630, Sir William Sinclair of Rosslyn was granted the charters from the Masons of Scotland, which confirms that the St Clairs were traditional Grand Masters of the Masons of Scotland. Accordingly, Rosslyn Chapel is of considerable interest to Masonic groups. Other carvings at Rosslyn Chapel are of religious, natural, or decorative nature, such as the Apprentice Pillar and the Seven Acts of Mercy panel.

Following the Reformation, services stopped being held in 1592 and did not begin again until the Chapel was re-dedicated in Victorian times.

Oliver Cromwell had his men stable their horses in the chapel in 1650 when he and General George Monck conquered nearby Roslin Castle.

Queen Victoria visited the site during her reign and was instrumental in restoring the Chapel to it’s original state for worship according to Protestant rites of the Scottish Episcopal Church and was re-dedicated as a place of worship on 22nd April 1862

I remember my mum talking about the Apprentice Pillar and how there was speculation that The Holy Grail is possibly encased within it, she talked about this in the 1970′s, about 30 years before the Chapel became more famous due to Dan Brown’s novel and film The Da Vinci Code.

I got the majority of the pics from the Alamy website, they date from the mid 19the century, some are from around 1852 while the one with the two figures walking through the church is from a book printed in 1859. Note most of these are before Queen Victoria's visit, so it shows the building was still in a good state of repair then. The top pic is from John Slezer's 'Theatrum Scotiae' is an important record of Scottish towns, castles and palaces in the 17th century. For most of these places, it contains some of the earliest views that survive. The first edition was 1693 so I think I am safe in saying it is the oldest depiction of Rosslyn Chapel.

Theatrum Scotiae also included written information on the drawings featured, the noted Scottish physician and antiquarian Robert Sibbald wrote;

Rosslyn Chapel

To the Right Honourable GEORGE Earl of Caithness, Lord Biridall, &c.

Roslin Chapel

This Chapel lies in Mid-Lothian, Four Miles from Edinburgh, and is one of the most curious Pieces of Workman-ship in Europe. The Foundation of this rare Building was laid Anno 1440 by William St Clair, Prince of Orkney, Duke of Holdenburgh, &c. A Man as considerable for the publick Works which he erected, as for the Lands which he possess'd, and the Honours which were conferred upon him by several of the greatest Princes of Europe. It is remarkable that in all this Work there are not two Cuts of one fort. The most curious Part of the Building is the Vault of the Quire, and that which is called the Prince's Pillar so much talk'd of. This Chapel was possess'd by a Provost, and Seven Cannons Regular, who were endued with several considerable Revenues through the Liberality of the Lairds of Roslin.

Here lies buried George Earl of Caithness, who lived about the Beginning of the Reformation, Alexander Earl of Sutherland, great Grand-Child to King Robert de Bruce, Three Earls of Orkney, and Nine Barons of Roslin.

The last lay in a Vault, so dry that their Bodies have been found intire after Fourscore Years, and as fresh as when they were first buried. There goes a Tradition, That before the Death of any of the Family of Roslin, this Chapel appears all in Fire.

[vacantgodling]

WIP MASTERLIST

a landing page for my wips for ease of access—that way you can easily get the gist and peruse the tag if you so desire.

{ main wips }

the fall of galeré series: paramour (wip intro) // requiem for the monochrome // prim & provocative // empire

the chronicles of lathsbury -> wip intro

betwixt thumb and forefinger -> wip intro

he who smites the sun (ph)

alizath -> wip intro // character list

cage universe -> ff: cage

{ secondary wips }

red death & the oracle’s favor -> wip intro

the graves we dug -> wip intro

nondisclosure

train master chidori

magic sex school

something wicked

tower haunt

{ non-active wips }

vampires don't take road trips -> wip intro (defunct)

laurent and the one human he fell in love with

the liminal space series (wip intro): donut wip // noi, alone // jenna the reaper // jenna the witch king // mason at the airport

the virgin of mt heredosa -> character intro

supernatural dads

noble -> wip intro

god eater -> wip intro

peri & dandy

gothica -> wip intro

purple haze

lukewarm rejection -> wip intro

the white shirts

marvin & linda

celestial weddings

dead rites -> wip intro

broken clouds

teardrops of the gods

sixteen candles -> character intro

worthless war (atreyus and the black knight)

soup kink

the face of alexa wardack

the many lovers of the king of concordia

operation neith

the grand duchy of black

faceless

[mjrtaurus]

Shandians were born to create. It’s something Dragon had always been told by his mother. From their skill with weapon smithing and metal work to their knack for farming, the hands of his people have made their way time and time again. It was a rite of passage for all warriors to forge their own weapon in the hearth, one that had sadly been out of reach for hundreds of years.

So they made do, borrowing the forge on bases to practice. It was as fun as it was tiring, constantly and consistently striking hot metal in what was essentially an oven always soaked his shirt through with sweat but he persisted. He’d strike until the ringing faded into background noise. He’d sharpen the blade until his fingers bled.

He’d fan the sparks until a proper flame came to be.

Dragon had been raised on tales of warriors who shaped their arms from flint and obsidian and bronze and brittle iron and sea prism stone, who had fletched their arrows with their own molted feathers, who had used dial shells to sail the seas like their ancestors had once sailed the skies. masons who built great cities around poneglyphs to protect them from the touch of time and the hands of men who would see history burn. Of metalworkers who went to the right eye of Jaya to put gold to stone. Of musicians who shaped the great bell to tones that could reach for miles for the wayward travelers who could not find their way home. Of the planters and fieldworkers who made sure none went hungry, and all islands they came to had holy white trees for the souls of the dead to rest within the roots of. Of the weavers and the tanners and the dyers who sewed clothes and armor. Of the storytellers who kept their history alive like his mother was to him…

Once he was confident enough in his abilities, he fashioned himself a spear. Like Kalgara.

He never used it for battle when he was with the marines, instead using the flimsy things the base armories provided. A soulless weapon for soulless battles.

When he formed the Freedom Fighters, it rarely left his side. Those years had been full of anger, full of rage. He was not proud of some of the things he had done during them. When the Ohara Incident happened, and the Revolutionary Army was formed, he dismantled the spear, and repurposed its head into a dagger he vowed to use for self-defense only.

He wanted to do this right. He knew violence wasn’t avoidable in a world this injust, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be his first course of action anymore.

[talonabraxas]

Sun Hardly any of the symbols of Freemasonry are more important in their signification or more extensive in their application than the sun. As the source of material light, it reminds the Freemason of that intellectual light of which he is in constant search. But it is especially as the ruler of the day, giving to it a beginning and end, and a regular course of hours, that the Sun is presented as a Masonic Symbol. Hence, of the three lesser lights, we are told that one represents or symbolizes the sun, one the moon, and one the Master of the Lodge, because, as the sun rules the day and the moon governs the night, so should the Worshipful Master rule and govern his Lodge with equal regularity and precision.

And this is in strict analogy with other Masonic symbolisms. For if the Lodge is a symbol of the world, which is thus governed in its changes of times and seasons by the sun, it is evident that the Master who governs the Lodge, controlling its time of opening and closing, and the work which it should do, must be symbolized by the sun. The heraldic definition of the sun as a bearing fits most appositely to the symbolism of the sovereignty of the Master. Thus Gwillim Says: "The sun is the symbol of sovereignty, the hieroglyphic of royalty; it doth signify absolute authority!'

This representation of the sun as a symbol of authority while it explains the reference to the Master, enables us to amplify its meaning, and apply it to the three Sources of authority in the Lodge, and accounts for the respective positions of the officers wielding this authority. the Master, therefore, in the East is a symbol of the rising sun; the Junior Warden in the South, of the Meridian Sun; and the Senior Warden in the West, of the Setting Sun. So in the Mysteries of India, the chief officers were placed in the East, the West, and the South, respectively, and thus represent Brahma, or the rising; Vishnu, or the setting; and Siva, or the meridian sun. And in the Druidical Rites, the Archdruid, seated in the East, was assisted by two other officers--the one in the West representing the moon, and the other in the South representing the meridian sun. This triple division of the government of a Lodge by three officers, representatives of the sun in his three manifestations in the East, South and West, will remind us of similar ideas in the symbolism of antiquity. In the Orphic Mysteries, it was taught that the sun generated from an egg, burst forth with power to triplicate himself by his own unassisted energy. Supreme power seems always to have been associated in the ancient mind with a three-fold division. Thus the sign of authority was indicated by the three-forked lightning of Jove, the trident of Neptune, and the three-headed Cerherus of Pluto. The government of the Universe was divided between these three sons of Saturn. The chaste goddess ruled the earth as Diana, the heavens as Luna, and the infernal regions as Hecate, whence her rites were only performed in a place where three roads met. The sun is then presented to us in Freemasonry first as a symbol of light, but then more emphatically as a symbol of sovereign authority.

But, says Wemyss (Symbolic Language), speaking of Seriptural symbolism, "the sun may be considered to be an emblem of Divine Truth," because the sun or light, of which it is the source, "is not only manifest in itself, but makes other things; so one truth detects, reveals, and manifests another, as all truths are dependent on, and connected with, each other more or less." And this again is applicable to the Masonic doctrine which makes the Master the symbol of the sun; for as the sun discloses and makes manifest, by the opening of day, what had been hidden in the darkness of night, so the Master of the Lodge, as analogue of the ancient hierophant or explainer of the mysteries, makes Divine Truth manifest to the neophyte, who had been hitherto in intellectual darkness, and reveals the hidden or esoteric lessons of initiation.

Sun Lodge ☀️ Talon Abraxas

[swastikitty]

A List of 45 Things That Annoy Me: Lindsay/Snoopyfemme -March 29, 2007

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

This is what happens when I have too much free time, and a permanent pebble in my shoe.

1. The hard, crusty stuff that forms at the bottom of Jello bowls.

2. Falling asleep in the afternoon, waking up in the dark, and wondering what day it is.

3. 9/11 conspiracy theorists. They're just annoying.

4. That Conan O'Brien's haircut is just a rip-off of David Duke's.

5. Getting lost in the woods without chapstick.

6. Any movie with Johnny Depp, no matter how good it is, will be instantly destroyed and vomited on by tweenage romance fanfiction.

7. Liberals that accuse everything conservative of being racist, sexist, bigoted, etc...

8. The stereotype that gamers are testosterone-pumped simpletons, when statistics have proven that 1/3 of gamers are female.

9. Commercials aimed at kids that use outdated slang. "Extreme to the max!!!" "Totally rad!!!"

10. Girls that act stupid in order to be "cute."

11. Not being able to talk one-on-one with a member of the opposite sex without a bystander assuming that we're a couple.

12. Americans who fake European accents in an attempt to appear "cultured."

13. Teenage girl pop stars who are convinced that they are, like TOTALLY punk rock.

14. Trying really hard to take the cap off of a paint pen, only to get the paint all over my hand.

15. Accidentally writing on White-Out that hasn't completely dried yet, causing a semi-liquidy mess.

16. Female magicians never wear pants. They wear that odd tuxedo/leotard thingy with a top hat and fishnet tights. A totally cliched and tired attempt at being sexy.

17. What is that tuxedo/leotard thingy called, anyway?! I feel tempted to call it a "Tuxedotard." Which would also be a great nickname for Sailor Moon's boyfriend.

18. The weirdness of seeing a person in real life who looks almost EXACTLY like a cartoon character. (I could've sworn that was Johnny Bravo I saw by the pool...)

19. Going to a show, but constantly being distracted by a middle-aged couple getting snuggly in the seats in front of me. Eww. Even worse is when their row is set lower than yours, so your knee gets constantly elbowed.

20. There are 30 girls at my school that look exactly the same. Highlighted blonde hair that goes just past the shoulders, too much eyeliner, a plain-colored shirt with a wrap shirt over it, denim skirt and fuzzy boots....

21. Deciding to watch a movie you really loved as a child, only to fill with disappointment and self-doubt as you realize how much it actually sucked.

22. The taste of Valentine's Day conversation hearts.

23. Accidentally buying low-fat ice cream.

24. That Anna Nicole Smith is a self-exploiting publicity whore even after she's dead.

25. Constant news reports of "ZOMG, teacher molested a student!" All the cases are the same, and besides, IT'S NOT NEWS.

26. People who think you're Satan if you eat at McDonald's.

27. Hearing random people yelling your name in the hallway as you walk past, with absolutely no idea who those people are.

28. Having to explain to your mom what an MMORPG is.

29. People don't realize that David Duke is an incredibly intelligent man - they just remember him as an ex-KKK. And that was 30 years ago.

30. Teachers who smile at me when I'm trying to give them an alibi.

31. Accidentally getting jabbed in the hip by a table corner.

32. People who quote Borat, and think they're actually funny for doing so.

33. Hearing your parents talking about you in the other room.

34. Trying to explain Masonic rite and ritual to a cheerleader.

35. People on the internet, who in an argument with you, bring up things you said almost a year ago.

36. That really painful burning sensation you get if you've scratched your nostril too hard.

37. People who wear really cheap body spray seem to always put on too much.

38. Female celebrities who try to look like Marilyn Monroe. (I have no problem, however, with male celebrities who do the same.:lol:)

39. Misuse of the word "emo." Emo is a style of music and clothing, not the condition of being sad or depressed.

40. Having a swastika-shaped scar on my butt.

41. Diet soda completely ruins the purpose of soda.

42. Messages on your computer that constantly remind you of software upgrades. No thank you.

43. Those same software upgrade messages that force you to either click "Yes, I would like to upgrade" or "No thank you, please remind me later."

44. When attractive members of the opposite sex wave to the person behind you.

45. The song "Bones" by The Killers sounds a little like it's about necrophilia. Creepy.

[the-bus-called-graveyard-8]

Madagascar: Film-to-Book Changes & Details (part 2 of 4)

Zuba does not continue chasing the hunters after he gets shot—he is too hurt from his injury

Instead of Central Park Zoo or City Zoo, we are now calling it the New York Zoo

When Nana is interviewed by the news, the caption across the screen reads "Nana: Grand Central Hero". When she notices the camera focusing on her, she yells "What are you looking at?" and whacks it with her purse

When Mort arrives at the plane, Julien and Maurice imply they had tied him up to prevent him from coming

When Alex confesses to breaking Marty's iPod, Marty laments that he'd had 10,000 songs on it. Alex teases him, "Neil Diamond didn't make 10,000 songs." Marty starts hitting him for dissing Neil Diamond

Julien dubs his new kingdom "Madagafrica"

The penguins don't get to run over Nana with the tour jeep :/

While preparing for the Rite of Passage, Alex paints his entire face white with black lipstick and black stars around his eyes, like a mime

Melman has a receptionist named Sandy. The giraffe who tells him about Joe's fate is named Harland.

The scene where Mason and Phil bring the army of chimps to help fix the plane is skipped, RIP "I'd like to kiss you monkey man"

The scene of Nana rallying the tourists is also skipped

The discovery of the dried-up watering hole goes in a slightly different order—when Makunga tells the other animals they'll have to fight for the water, they all assert their preference for Zuba. Makunga then tells them they should go upriver and find out what happened to the water. Alex does not announce himself—after hearing this, he quietly leaves to find Marty.

As they leave the reserve to go upriver, Marty asks how Alex had found him amongst the other zebras. Alex says his line from the very end of the film—"I can look into your eyes and know it's you."—before looking at the scar on Marty's butt

Immediately after this, the story cuts to Marty arguing with Skipper about using the plane and Mason blackmailing Skipper. Several pages later, we have the scene of Alex and Marty finding the dam and being ambushed by the tourists. I'm guessing this is an editing error

Upon finding the dam, instead of pondering dynamite, Alex says they will need more manpower. Marty suggests getting Zuba. Alex replies he was more thinking of the penguins.

One of the zebras who had watched Alex and Marty leave runs to tell Makunga what they're doing. Makunga then goes to retrieve Zuba

Marty still fetches Gloria and Melman from the volcano, but there is no indication they were on the plane for the rescue and they do not appear again for the rest of the book

When Zuba joins Alex in dancing for the tourists, he tells Alex he doesn't know what he's doing. Alex tells him not to worry and, pointing to Zuba's birthmark, says "you were born with it!", echoing Zuba's words from earlier

Nana does not have a gun during the plane escape—Hula Girl subsequently suffers no injuries

Zuba does not insist on him and Alex jointly taking the role of Alpha Lion—Zuba instead accepts his role back and announces that drinks are on him. The book ends here, with no wedding between Skipper and Hula Girl and no penguins leaving with the plane

Mort is never seen again after he falls off the plane in the beginning—we are left to assume he died, smh