#My family has a remarkable ability to die during the holidays

[aaeds]

All and anything.

[miss-pearlescent]

A Work in Progress

This was a draft that I never got around to finishing until I was moved by all the support you guys were giving me...AND IT’S STILL NOT ACTUALLY COMPETE but I figured I would “talk” you all through the ending LOL Read on and you’ll understand.

Oh, and happy holidays!

“I would move a mountain for you.”

The tears started flowing and she couldn’t stop them. An ache settled deep within her chest as the book she was reading began to get blurry before her watery eyes. She lived for the pain and angst of romance novels, but she could never live through the misery of unrequited love herself.

“Sona?”

Speaking of...

She felt heavy fingers brush through her fine hair as the naked body behind her began to stir.

She wiped at the tears with the heavy sheets. “Hmm?” she asked, though her voice squeaked at the end.

“Sona, are you crying?”

“No,” she lied, even as she craned her neck back to see the sleepy demon prince rise from his sleep.

He rested his chin on her shoulder as he watched her with concern in his eyes. “What happened?”

Sona shook her head. “Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“It’s not nothing if you’re crying.” He grabbed her by the waist and turned her around so she was resting on his chest. “Now tell me what Kai, the mighty Prince of Hell, can do for you.”

She rolled her eyes in amusement but closed her book to settle closer to him. “I was just reading a book.”

“Ah,” Kai murmured as if that told him everything. “What happened this time? The dragon ate the knight in shining armour and now the princess has to marry the big, scary beast?”

She cut him a look. “No, worse.”

“Worse?” he asked in an exaggerated voice. “What’s worse than being forced to marry a dragon?”

Burying her face into his chest, Sona took a deep breath. “Not knowing if the one you love loves you back,” she whispered. “The hero is about to die and he thinks the heroine is in love with somebody else. All he wants is for her to feel loved and do you know what he said just now, right as he was about to take his last dying breath?” She punctuated her words with tiny jabs at his chest.

Kai was tracing little circles along the back of her neck, comforting her. “What did he say?” he asked softly.

“He said he would move a mountain for her.” Sona sniffled and squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the tears. “A whole mountain!”

He let her wallow in her own sorrow for a moment. She clung to his chest, relishing in the comfort he provided but also wishing she could finish her novel at the same time. There was quite a bit left and she knew there were twists and turns around the corner. She just had to get through those to reach the happy ending.

Sona felt the little scoff that came from Kai. She rose her head and narrowed her eyes, daring him to laugh at her emotions.

He didn’t look at her, just continued to watch the spot on her shoulder where he drew shapes and lines. “He said he would move a mountain? Just one?” The corner of his lips kicked up as he gave her a sly look. “I’d part the seas and move a whole mountain range to create its own island if my woman wanted it.”

She snorted and laid her head back down. “This isn’t a competition.” She began tracing her own little drawings on his palm. “Besides, he’s a human, Mr. Mighty Prince of Hell. You’re not allowed to compare your powers to us.”

“You’re a pretty strong human yourself, Little Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” he teased. “I’m sure you could move a mountain or two yourself if you wanted.”

“I just got lucky at birth,” she said, referring to her ability to cast spells that influenced the weather. Then she thought about how her abilities got her to this place, running from her King straight into the arms and bed of the “enemy.” “Or maybe I got unlucky,” she mumbled with a shrug.

Kai gave a deep sigh but he kept his mouth shut. Sona knew how much he hated it when she disliked her own powers, but she had only started learning to contain the self-hate.

Growing up, Sona was raised in a kingdom of humans, where everybody was the same and nobody knew about the supernatural. Then her mom gave birth to a daughter who, at the age of 6, could ask a cloud to rain upon her mother’s crops in the middle of a drought that had originally caused a mass famine.

At first, the villagers had been frightened of Sona...until hunger took over and they knocked on her mother’s door to ask for rain on their own lands.

Though her mother had started with lies, saying there was no such thing as magic, Sona saw the desperation in her neighbours’ eyes and gave the farmers some rain during the night when nobody could see.

Her village flourished and things were great as Sona grew older. There was only one summer where officials were suspicious. It was hard enough to grow produce on the side of the mountain, but Sona’s mother was bringing carts and carts of crops to the market everyday.

After they had a suspicious official search their home, Sona knew she couldn’t overdo it with the weather anymore. She kept low until a second drought hit her kingdom years later.

The new King had heard of the remarkable growth of Sona’s village and sent soldiers to interrogate the people.

She didn’t like to think about that day because it was the last time she saw her mother before being dragged away to the King’s court.

There, her powers were honed and abused. She was locked up for days until she could cause floods that filled all the rice paddies, till she could bring the sun out in the middle of the night.

And she was forced into an engagement with the King.

It wasn’t until one of her guards saw her plans for an escape that he helped her leave the walls of the kingdom. She walked for days and days until she came upon a town inhabited by what she thought were monsters.

She remembered blacking out before waking up to see Kai’s face.

“What are your plans for today?” he asked, changing the subject and pulling her out of her reverie.

She smiled to herself, thinking of the past month where he patched her up and introduced her to a spellcaster in his outcast town who helped build her skills. Kai was the leader of this town on the other side of the mountain and she grew to love him day by day.

Which was why she wasn’t surprised when he told her he was a demon prince, banished from hell to live out his life on Earth.

Sona played with the chain around his neck. “I think I’ll go visit Mr. Oh this afternoon and bring his family some cake. It’s his grandson’s birthday.” Mr. Oh was the spellcaster who was surprised by Sona’s powers and excited to work with her. He was like a father figure to her. “What’s this?” she asked, pointing at the clover on Kai’s chain.

“It’s the protection charm you gave me,” he explained. She had given Kai a coin with a protection spell on it the day Mr. Oh had taught it to her. “I didn’t know where to keep the coin so I got it melted down into a clover and attached it to my neck. Now I won’t be able to lose it.”

She felt a smile cracking through her lips. “I like it.” She leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the lips.

He rolled her over to deepen it. “You’ll like this too.”

Sona moaned as a hand skated up her side, brushing her nipple in a tease.

And this was where her conscious fought with her.

The relationship she shared with Kai was so perfect, yet neither of them knew where they stood. When she had first climbed into his bed, it was like a magnet had brought them together. After that, they were unable to spend a night apart. And during the day, she longed to be close to him. She wanted to share all her thoughts and ideas with him.

But she knew his greatest wish was to go back home. Things were difficult on Earth, especially in a town where it rained often. And many days were a gloomy grey. In the middle of a week of rain, Sona broke her own rules just to part the clouds and let the sun peak through a bit.

She didn’t realize her heart would be the one to warm up when she saw Kai watching her with awe and pride.

So, selfishly, she tried everything she could to make him happy. She wanted him to stay despite knowing it was futile. He deserved to go back home, where he could be treated like the prince he was.

And where humans weren’t allowed unless they were dead.

---

OK I’ve let this “first chapter” sit here for a long while and I’ve tried to come back to it but I can’t so here is the rest of the plot:

The next day, they wake up to their village being seized by Sona’s kingdom’s army. Kai fights them and wins, but a soldier named Baekhyun finds Sona. Baekhyun is the one who freed Sona in the first place so even though Kai is like “WTFFFF IMMA KILL YOU,” Sona is like “lemme talk to Baekhyun.” Baek is like “yo, I admit defeat but like...you gotta come back with me to your kingdom.”

Kai is pissed.

Sona (the reasonable person she is) asks “why?”

Baekhyun: If you don’t, the king is gonna burn down the whole kingdom.

The kingdom is on the other side of the mountain. The inland side, so it doesn’t get much rain.

In comparison, Kai’s village is on the side of the mountain that faces the ocean and therefore gets hella rain.

The proper term for all of this is “rain shadow.” For reference, think of North America’s Rocky Mountains LOOOL

ANYWAY, Sona’s kingdom is dying once again because it’s a desert and only she was able to grow FUCKEN RICE IN A DESERT. So the king is calling her back or else he’s gonna set fire to a kingdom of starving people.

And why is Baekhyun so worried? BECAUSE HE’S GOT A GIRL BACK THERE ;______; He was ready to wife her!!!!!

Sona is like “nooooo :( moral duties!”

Kai’s like “FJKDALGHDKALFJDKSLJFDKALHGDKLSJ YOU CAN’T GO.....OK I KNOW YOU WANNA GO REALLY BAD BUT...JFKDALGHKS ok but like I’m coming.”

Sona’s like “no the humans hate demons. they’re gonna kill you :(((((((((( This is my fight.”

Kai’s like “LISTEN. TO. ME. LINDA.”

Ofc he has to be heroic and shit so Sona’s like “FINE. But you are only gonna be chaperoning me. I am NOT risking ur ass by taking you into a kingdom that hates anything ~magical~”

Kai agrees but more like “k watever”

ANYWAY, THEY GO.

Here is where I had a dilemma LOL I wanted them to go on a motorcycle because KIM JONGIN IS SO HOT ON A MOTORCYCLE LMFAO but why would a demon from a poor wittle village have a motorcycle....

So in my head, they rode on some motorcycle thingy that had a big black cloud veil and whatnot while Baekhyun rode his horse with the other nearly-dead soldiers behind them lol

They arrive at the kingdom and Kai is pissed af because he’s worried :( Yeah I hate when men do this because it’s a really bad way to channel your emotions but men are dumb and never change ALAS!

They get in a big fight and Sona has to leave to go into the kingdom while they’re still angry/ignoring each other.

Kai is all haughty and fuming, waiting in a tree and shit while he watches Sona be escorted past the gates of the kingdom....and the moment she is gone, HE STARTS REGRETTING EVERYTHING LMFAO

jokes on you!

Sona agrees to whatever the king says (idk what he says, lol my imagination didn’t care about this king) BUT THE KING GOES BACK ON HIS WORD BECAUSE HE’S SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT HIS KINGDOM IS PERISHING DUE TO CIRCUMSTANCES OUT OF HIS CONTROL YET EVERYBODY THINKS IT’S HIS OWN FAULT so he sets fire to everything including himself. I feel like his brain’s going “If I can’t rule this kingdom, THEN NOBODY SHALL!”

He dies, but his orders were to have soldiers scattered around the kingdom so that once the king’s castle was lit on fire, these soldiers would know to start fires in their own places too.

Thankfully, they’re not ALL dumb as shit. Some decide that this is actually a bad idea, so they help evacuate whoever they can.

Ofc, our heroine helps too :’) She brings whoever she can out past the gates and then tries to bring some rain from the ocean.

While she’s working, she realizes that Kai is not at their meeting spot. She doesn’t see him at all, actually.

She’s scared but SHE HAS WORK TO DO!

So she’s all busy concentrating on bringing the rain past the mountains (she cannot gather enough water from the land around her to create a mass of precipitation because it’s a desert.......yes, i think about these things too)

BUT SHE’S STRUGGLING CUZ BITCH, THESE ARE SOME BIG MOUNTAIN RANGES AND IT WASN’T MEANT TO RAIN FOR ANOTHER MONTH.

Then she sees Kai running towards her carrying a whole cart of people (indeed, our man found a CART!)

She’s about to call him but then he runs back in and she’s like “OMFG I’M GONNA LOSE HIM” but that thought only stays for a split second cuz she still has to get the rain over here lol

The fire’s basically burned down the kingdom at this point. Kai has brought out many people (he’s fine in the fire because he’s a demon AND he has a cute protection charm hehehe) but then he sees Sona struggling and he looks up and sees the dark clouds forming on the other side of the mountain.

Guess what he does?

biiiiitch

Sona is like “O_O” when she suddenly looks over and KAI IS PUSHING THE MOUNTAIN RANGE OVER.

biiiitch he did that!

Rain pooooooooours down the mountain and starts dousing the fire. Problem is, everything is suddenly dark and the ground is slippery lol DIDN’T THINK OF THAT, HUH?

So they’re still scrambling to get survivors out. Towards the end, Sona is helping a family out when suddenly she slips because she’s human and there’s mud everywhere. Her ankle twists and she just sits there for a second as she sees Baekhyun call off the search. It’s been hours and everyone’s exhausted.

Kai turns back and starts walking towards Sona, and she’s shook because 1) HE’S HOT AF and 2) his eyes are blue and his hair is white...sound familiar??

THIS IS THE PERFORMANCE (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q-VX60sGRjo) THAT STARTED THIS WHOLE STORY IN MY HEAD LOOOOL SUCH A GOOD FANCAM! SUCH A GOOD LOOK! DO YOU SEE THAT CLOVER ON HIS NECK? YUM!

Anyway, he takes off his hat and holds out his hand with a smirk on his face and goes “Did I move enough mountains for you?”

JFKLADHGDKALFJDKSLGHDKALJFDKSL imma punch him

He pulls Sona up off the ground and sees that shes limping and suddenly drops his smirk. She’s like “no, it’s nothing” but ofc Kai has to be heroic and shit so he picks her up and VROOM VROOM they go off in their motorcycle back to the village LOOOOOOOOOOOOL

The whole way back though, they’re silent but for different reasons. Sona is hella sad because she’s sooooo in love with Kai but knows that she’s just drawing out something that’s gonna end badly. She wants to protect her heart, ya know!

Whereas Kai....has different reasons :)

So we get back to Kai’s place and Sona is washing up while Kai just sits on his little settee. When Sona’s done, she tells him to go wash up but he just grunts.

We love grunting. Why? CUZ HE’S BROODING?

WHY IS HE BROODING? DIDN’T THEY JUST SAVE A WHOLE KINGDOM?

Sona is thinking the same thing LOL but Kai directs her to lay down on the settee (isn’t it dirty, Kai??) and props her foot up on a couple pillows.

“Why do you still look like this?” she asks in a whisper, gently fingering through the strands of white on his head.

(a/n: sorry I had to /write/ that part out because it sets the mood a lot but DAMN i wanna barf at my own writing LOL just imagine everything is warm and candlelit, and Kai is attentively catering to Sona while she lounges on the settee)

Kai doesn’t meet her eyes. Just shrugs.

Okkkkkkk so obviously it’s a sensitive topic???

She continues to comb through his hair cuz it’s cute. And because he’s a wittle puppy (see: demon prince from hell), HE BREAKS WHEN SHE SCRATCHES THAT ONE SPOT ON HIS HEAD.

He grabs her wrist and takes deep gulping breaths.

Meanwhile, she holds her breath.

“I was banished from hell for not taking a mate.”

Her brows furrow and she starts to sit up but Kai pins her down with his hands. His blue eyes reflect the fire in the hearth.

“It was during mating season, and everyone was in a frenzy. My father found a girl for me. I remember she was so scared when she was brought into court.”

Kai takes a breath. Sona uses her other hand to stroke his hair, offering whatever comfort she could.

“I couldn’t do it.” He choked on his last syllable. “I couldn’t do such a horrible thing to a little girl who had screamed and cried until her voice was gone. They brought her to me when she barely had any fight left in her.”

Kai put his forehead against Sona’s shoulder. “Mating season meant you lost yourself. You had the hair and eyes of your inner demon, along with its mindset. But I refused to do anything to the poor girl, so I hid her away and sent her to the outskirts of the land.”

Sona let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. “You did what was right,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “She couldn’t go back to her parents who would sell her again. She didn’t have anywhere to go. I was banished before I could find her again.” His body was shaking with grief. “She could be dead because of me.”

Sona cried for him. Cried for the man that tried to do the right thing and still had everything turn out wrong. Cried for the young girl that had no choice in what was done to her. Cried for the fact that Sona herself could not turn back time and undo all of it.

They stayed like that on the settee—Kai crouching on the rug in front of her—for what seemed like hours.

When he rose, his eyes were bloodshot and glassy.

Sona pushed him toward the tub, insisting he’d feel better after having a wash.

He came out looking ragged still, but cleaner. He took a seat on the ground in front of her again, staring into the fire.

“So it’s mating season for you again?”

He nodded. “It comes every five to seven years. That’s another reason why my father banished me. He needed an heir and I was unwilling to produce one, so he turned to my next brother.”

“You don’t seem...” Sona searched for the word, “animalistic to me.”

Kai shrugged. “I don’t like to let the demon rule me. It’s hard to control my body once instinct takes over.”

“I see.” She stared at the ceiling and fought a blush creeping across her cheeks, trying not to think of all the inappropriate things Kai would do to her if “instinct” had taken over.

Except, he wasn’t letting it, was he? He didn’t want to have sex right now. He didn’t want a mate right now.

Sona tamped down her disappointment and put on a smile, turning her head to look at him. “Well, if—” She bit off her sentence with a squeak when she saw Kai’s blazing blue eyes staring back at her.

His nostrils flared. “Why do I smell your arousal, Sona?”

She opens her mouth but closes it again when he rises above her.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks in a growl.

That just made the ache between her legs even worse. “I-I was just wondering about the demon side of you.”

His eyes glinted and she swore she saw fangs as he cracked a devilish grin. “What would you like to know?”

“Oh, just general stuff.” She waved her hands in the air. “Like what you eat in Hell, how you communicate with other demons, how you—”

He cut her off by pressing the calf of her broken ankle against the back of the settee. “How we mate?” He hiked up her nightgown and grinned at the sight before him. “Keep your bad leg still and I’ll show you.”

Sona almost came just from the hunger in his eyes, but she snapped out of her haze and clamped her hands down between her legs. “No.”

Kai blinked and looked up. “No?”

“No,” she bit out. Her body was so ready, but she couldn’t keep hurting the both of them like this. “I can’t mate with you.”

The fire in Kai’s eyes died as he backed away, still holding onto her leg so it wouldn’t drop forcefully onto the pillows.

Talking felt like pushing lead from her throat. “We can’t do this anymore, Kai. We are torturing ourselves.” She took a deep breath. “You have to know that I love you so much and you are the best person I’ve ever met, but I can’t be the right mate for you.”

A line set between his brows. “Why not?” he bit out.

“Because I can’t be what you need. You need a queen to go with you into Hell and run a whole Hell-dom there. Someone who can bring you back home where you belong, where your powers can flourish.” She couldn’t stop the whimper that followed. “Not a human who holds you back on Earth.”

His thumb stroked her calf, a kindness she didn’t deserve. Her heart was breaking into two and he was still her providing comfort.

Next thing she knew, he was kissing her. Gently on the cheek at first and then slowly grazing her lips.

“Kai,” she whispered between pecks. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“Mhmm,” he nodded. “So do you want to be my mate?”

“Kai!” She pushed against his shoulders.

He caught her hand and kissed it. “I heard what you said and I still want you. I want you whether you can come to Hell or not. It doesn’t matter, because I feel at home when I’m with you.”

Sona shook her head through the tears. “That doesn’t make sense.”

He kissed her, hard. “If I left this village, would it still feel like a home to you?”

“Of course not.”

“Would you go back to your kingdom?”

She vehemently shook her head.

“Then where would you go?”

Sona licked her lips. “I...I don’t know.”

“Me neither.” He kissed her again, crawling between her legs. “I would try to find you. I would want to be with you for the rest of my life, if you would have me.”

She wrapped her good leg around his waist. “Then please take me.”

He chuckled and nipped her on the shoulder. “Then promise not to move your bad leg.”

(THEY DO IT)

OK that’s enough /writing/ LOL so they do the dirty and suddenly they’re mated and Sona’s ankle is healed. Why? BECAUSE SHE GOT SOME POWERS FROM HER MAN. And Kai suddenly has a purple aura around him and he can move a couple clouds with just a thought. How? BECAUSE HE GOT POWERS FROM HIS WOMAN.

And they can both transcend into hell cuz she’s no longer human-human, CUZ WHY? CUZ SHE’S GOT A DEMON BABY BAKING INSIDE OF HER MWAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA

the end.

ok now it’s time for a quick shameless plug :3 Red Velvet came back so of course I had to cover it! Please check it out and give us a like if you can :’’‘‘)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFmPgY_6wWQ

[ruminativerabbi]

Books and Mirrors: As A New Year Dawns

The month of Elul, the last month of the Jewish year, is well known as the traditional time for reviewing the year, reflecting on our behavior and general comportment, owning up to our shortcomings, and finding the resolve to face the season of judgment, if not quite with eager anticipation, than at least with equanimity born the conviction that we can and will do better in the coming year. You often hear the Hebrew phrase ḥeshbon ha-nefesh, literally “an accounting of the soul” in this regard—and those words really do capture the concept pithily and well: thinking of our lives as ledger-books in which our instances of moral courage and ethical inadequacy stand in for the accountant’s credits and debits works for me and will probably suit most. There is even a book with that title—Sefer Ḥeshbon Ha-nefesh by Rabbi Menaḥem Mendel Lefin, written in 1808 and the only rabbinic work known to have been directly influenced by the Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin—which I wrote about to you all a few years ago just before Pesach. (To review what I had to say there, click here.)

How exactly to go about this is a different question, however. I suppose some people really can just sit down and review the year week by week, noting where they personally feel themselves to have come up short and resolving to respond in a way more in keeping with the moral code they claim to espouse when facing analogous situations in the future. For most of us, though, that process—although theoretically possible—is not that practical an approach to the larger enterprise: who can remember the days of our lives with clear-eyed enough exactitude to analyze deeds from months ago with the certainty that we are remembering things precisely correctly? Fortunately, there are other ways to see ourselves clearly and for many, myself included, the simplest answer is to use a mirror.  Not a real one, of course, in which you can only see the reflection of your outermost appearance. But there are other kinds of mirrors available to us, some of which have the ability to reflect the inner self and which can serve, therefore, more like windows into the soul than the kind of mirror you look into each morning when you brush your teeth and see yourself looking back with a toothbrush in your mouth.

For me personally and for many years now, that mirror has always been a book I’ve chosen to read or re-read during Elul in the hope that it will allow me to see myself reflected either in its plot, in the way some specific one of its characters is depicted, or in the world it describes. Over the years, I’ve chosen well and less well. But when I do somehow manage to choose the right book for Elul, that choice makes all the difference by allowing me to see myself in the depiction of another far more clearly than I think I ever could have managed on my own.

This year I read Marcos Aguinis’ novel, Against the Inquisition.  Although the author is apparently very well-known in his native Argentina and throughout the Spanish-speaking world, I hadn’t ever heard of him until just this last July when Dara Horn published a review of the new English-language translation by Carolina de Robertis of his most successful book, called La Gesta del Marrano in Spanish, in Moment magazine. The review was stellar (to read it for yourself, click here) and left me intrigued enough to buy a copy with the intention of it being my Elul book for this year. It wasn’t a big investment, so I wasn’t risking much. (Used paperback copies and the e-book version are both available online for less than $5 each.) But it turned out to be exactly the right choice: I just finished it earlier this week and found myself truly astounded both by the author’s literary skill and, even more so, by what the book has to say about the nature of Jewishness itself.

Seeing myself in the protagonist, Francisco Maldonado da Silva—a real historical figure who lived from1592 to 1639—was simple enough. Imagining myself reaching the level of piety, self-awareness, courage, and moral decency he exemplified in his life and, even more so, in his death—that was the mirror into which I found myself peering as I read Aguinis’s book. I don’t have to be him, obviously. But I do have to be me. And so the question is not whether I could learn Spanish and move to the seventeenth century, but whether I have it in me to be me in the same sense that the book’s protagonist was himself. If the concept sounds obscure when I formulate it that way, read the book and you’ll see what I mean: I can hardly remember feeling more personally challenged by a novel, and more eager to accept the protagonist as a moral role model. Against the Inquisition is a historical novel, of course, not a non-fiction work of “regular” history. But it tells a true story…and the opportunity to read the story, to take it to heart, to be moved incredibly by its detail, and to feel transformed by the experience of communing with a great Jewish thinker through the medium of his art—that is the gift Against the Inquisition offers to its readers.

The plot, fully rooted in the real Francisco Maldonado da Silva’s life story, is beyond moving. The details of Jewish life in Latin America in the late 1500s and the early 1600s will be obscure to most readers in North America today. But the short version is that all of South America except Brazil was part of the Spanish Empire back then. And the Catholic authorities (whose power over the region’s secular rulers was almost absolute) were dedicated not merely to making the practice of Judaism illegal, but to ferreting out even the vaguest traces of Jewish practice of belief that might still be lingering among the so-called “New” Christians, the descendants of those Jews who chose conversion to Catholic Christianity over flight when the Jews were exiled from Spain and Portugal, but at least some of whom retained a deeply engrained sense of their own Jewishness intact enough to pass along to their children and their children’s children as well.

Da Silva’s life story as retold in the book is remarkable in almost every way. His father, a physician harboring a deep, if secret and entirely illicit, devotion to his own Jewishness is eventually discovered and punished so cruelly and so degradingly that it beggars the imagination to consider that his torture—which is certainly not too strong a word to describe his treatment—was undertaken by men who considered themselves not only deeply religious but truly virtuous. But the meat of the novel is the story of how exactly the physician’s son Francisco, who also becomes well-known and highly respected doctor, is made aware of his Jewishness and then finds it in him not to dissemble so as not to be caught, but, at least eventually, to embrace his Jewishness and his Judaism openly and fearlessly. That kind of behavior was not tolerated in Spanish America, and the consequences for Francisco are, at least in some ways, even worse than the physical abuse and public humiliation to which his father was subjected.

The last chapters particularly are seared into my memory. You know what’s coming. You know that there’s no other way for the book to end. You understand that the protagonist, Francisco himself, sees that as clearly as you do. And yet you continue to hope that you’re wrong, that some deus ex machina will descend from the sky and make things right. You know you’re being crazy by hoping for such a thing—and, if you are me, you already know that the auto-da-fé of January 23, 1639, in Lima, Peru, was perhaps the largest mass execution of Jews ever undertaken by the Catholic church, a nightmarish travesty of justice undertaken in the name of religion in which more than eighty “New” Christians were burnt alive at the stake for the crime of having retained some faint vestige of their families’ Jewishness—but you continue to delude yourself into thinking that perhaps the author will take advantage of his novelist’s prerogative to just make up some other ending.  That Francisco is depicted as having the means of escaping his prison cell but instead uses his freedom to visit other prisoners and encourage them to embrace their Jewishness and to accept their fate with pride and courage—that detail alone makes this novel a worthy Elul read.

My readers all know who my personal heroes are. Janusz Korczak, who chose to die at Treblinka rather than to abandon the orphans entrusted to his care. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who returned to wartime Germany to preach against Nazism and eventually to play a role in the plot to assassinate Hitler, for which effort he paid with his life. And now I add Francisco Maldonado da Silva, who chose to die with dignity and pride as a Jew rather than to run off and spend his life masquerading as something he was not and had no wish to be. Could I be like that? Could I live up to my own values in the way these men did? Could I be me the way they were them? I ask these questions not because I wish to answer them in public, but merely to show that they can be asked. They can also be answered, of course. And that is what Elul is for: to challenge us to peer into whatever mirror we choose…and ask if the man or woman we could be is looking back, or just the woman or man we ended up as. That is the searing, anxiety-provoking question the holidays about to dawn lay at our feet. If you’re looking for the courage to formulate your own answer, read Against the Inquisition and I’m guessing you’ll be as inspired to undertake the ḥeshbon ha-nefesh necessary to answer honestly as I was.

[saintanism-archive]

daaaamn aj, back at it again with the long as fuc headcanons !! anyway hi everyone it’s me this is saint he’s a pretentious fuck & my ( really long, sorry, feel free 2 skip them, there’s a tl;dr summary in my bulletpoints so u can just scroll past it ) headcanons and intro stuff is under the cut !

first headcanon. while most houghton parents are doctors, lawyers, and business executives, saint’s always been something of a horse of a different color. his family certainly isn’t unwealthy—he does, after all, live in one of those multi-million-dollar brownstones in beacon hill auctioned by freaking sotheby’s—but they’re certainly neo riche, which can be sort of hit or miss, depending on who you’re asking. saint is not unlike his parents in that they surround themselves with a kind of off-kilter opulence ( sure, that kind of cash value would have bought them a newly constructed sleek mansion in the suburbs, but why go for something new and modern when you could live in a brownstone with over three hundred years of history that, supposedly, one of the founding fathers lived in? besides, you just can’t beat that location—never mind that the brownstone’s been totally gutted and replaced with sleek, modern interior anyway, and definitely not anything that ben franklin or whoever would have touched ) while pretending to eschew materialism and vanity. why else would they live in boston instead of new york or la, right? anyway. saint is the only son of the one and only cordelia st. mercy ( pronounced, unlike saint’s name, the french way—san merci, which sounds hilariously close to ‘sans merci,’ meaning ‘without mercy,’ a joke that is not lost on saint ), a renowned fashion photographer and portrait artist ( think in the vein of annie liebovitz  and arthur elgort ) with a marked celebrity and high art clientele, and also the one and only son of the less elegantly named garrett wallace ( a pen name; his real name is garrett wallerstedt, but his editor and agent agreed that last names that are difficult to pronounce are harder to sell ), whose grisly but artful novels earned him a national book award in 1997, a film deal in 2001 ( the film was a critical and box office success but, in garrett’s opinion, too reductive of his book; ‘pure snuff’ ), and a professorship in the creative writing program at MIT. yes, that MIT, which yes, does have a creative writing program, and yes, it’s a very good one. SO—that’s the pedigree saint mercy-wallace was born into, and it probably explains a whole lot about him. his parents are not and were never married, so he can’t quite say he’s a child of divorce. instead, he spends the school year with his father while his mother travels all over the world, doing her work, though she comes home for holidays and saint’s birthday, and the summers he spends with his mother, dipping his feet into the world of the new york art scene. it was an unusual arrangement, but not a bad one; it was a long time before saint even understood that his family situation was out of the ordinary, but, like, at least he knew both his parents loved him or whatever. they are both pretty emotionally distant and prone to getting caught up in their own work—his father is always focused on teaching or poring over his latest book or invited to give a talk somewhere, for example—but it’s not a bad situation. they’re just more like friends than parents. as a result, saint grew up with a lot of freedom ( more than most of his houghton peers, whose helicopter parents put the weight of the world on their shoulders ) and little discipline, often left to his own devices and trusted with the ability to take care of himself.

second headcanon: ah, yes. the houghton food chain. it’s easy to say saint sits at the dead bottom. like, he’s not even the bugs that get eaten by the birds or whatever. he’s the plant that gets eaten by the bugs. or the soil nutrients that get consumed by the plants—something like that. but the easy answer isn’t necessarily the correct one, and you see, once upon a time, saint sat somewhere near the top. he was never number one, of course, but he was up there, in that little crew of self-proclaimed high school princes and princesses ( quite literally, what with calling themselves windsors and all ). and he fit quite well, all things considered. what, with his pseudo-celebrity family background and his instagram roll full of selfies with models and musicians and actors and that specifically youthful brand of devil-may-care attitude that bordered at times on cruelty—he was a perfect fit for the windsors, his five-story, oft-empty brownstone the perfect venue for their parties and his unconscious need to belong to some kind of family the perfect host for going along with anything that dante and his ilk said. that’s not to make it sound like he was manipulated into it or anything of the sort—he wasn’t. he and dante were good friends—they were all good friends—and like anyone would, saint relished in the perks that came with sitting at the king’s left hand instead of dancing for his entertainment. he was ( and still is ) always the kind of person who gave off an air of not really caring about anything at all, but that’s especially easy when you want for nothing. his life was impossibly easy. too easy, perhaps—exactly what went down that infamous day when saint fell from his high school pedestal remains a mystery. all anyone really knows is this: it was your typical rager at chateau mercy-wallace. the party was going as saint’s parties typically did, so, pretty well, until saint cut the music and ( red-rimmed and wild-eyed, or stinking of about a hundred cigarettes, or with a bloody nose from too many lines of coke, depending on who’s telling the story—it’s morphed a bit over time ) threw everyone out of his house with no explanation. just a party’s over, fuckwads, get outta my house, and some monologue about the bullshit superficiality of high school, of all of them, about how they were all talking in circles and repeating the same lines over and over, but not even their own lines, lines they’d inherited from generations and generations past. it’s equally up for debate whether saint left the windsors or was kicked out, but there’s something of a general consensus that it was in the muddy lines of both. that went down somewhere towards the middle of the end of his junior year. since then? total social pariah. he left behind the lacrosse and soccer teams, opting instead for chain-smoking under the bleachers and cutting class. he’s a mystery, that saint mercy-wallace.

third headcanon: they were friends until they weren’t. they met in middle school and hit it off pretty easily, these two sons of daedalus who feared not the dangers of flying too close to the sun. they were handsome and charming and confident and gifted and the world opened for them—it made it easy to get along. eleven-year-olds didn’t need much by way of substance to start friendships. if you were to ask saint, looking back on it, after that they remained friends out of habit—because they were in the same place at the same time, because they had similar privilege, because they both felt they could do anything and get away with it, because they had similar luxurious sensibilities. it was ( if you ask saint ) what really bonded all of the windsors together more than any other kind of commonality. but, you know. when you wake up—as saint describes it, a waking up—and you look around and you see all this shit you’ve been brainwashed into thinking matters about anything, and you call out the only flimsy common ground you’ve got. well. you’re not going to be friends anymore, are you? after that, saint didn’t harbor any particular resentment towards dante, but he made no attempts to be friendly, often making snide remarks about the absurdity that was the whole premise of the “windsors” and how maybe they all needed to get outside and look at something other than their phones once in a while. he was still fairly shocked and upset by his death—nobody wants anyone to die, old friend slash new enemy or otherwise—but not enough to make a big thing out of it. saint’s had a pretty hard time feeling much of anything these days.

OK THE TL;DR VERSION:

son of a big hotshot fashion/art/celeb photographer ( cordelia aka cordy st. mercy ) and an acclaimed writer, essayist, novelist, thinker, etc ( garrett wallace, who teaches creative writing at MIT )

lives in a big ol brownstone in boston proper, often left to his own devices

his parents are not married to each other so he usually spends the school year w dad and the summer w mom - pls advise if u want some kind of step sibling or “our parents are dating this is terrible!” connection

used to be a windsor ! he was once (in)famously a member of the elite Inner Circle(TM) until he even more infamously had a giant burnout , threw everyone out of his house during a Classic Saint Rager ( he used to be known for throwing parties ), stopped hanging out w the windsors and has been kinda.....weird ever since

i mean don’t get me wrong he was always a pretentious fuck but he used to be better at keeping it inside and like having fun and talking about silly things now he hates talking about basic high school bullshit

his instagram is full of selfies w models and artists and musicians and actors and he only listens to bands you’ve probably never heard of who are “on the up and up”

and also house music and gregorian chants and weird af shit he’s into, like, industrial noise. anyway..........

prides himself on being very fashion forward and forward thinking in general

BIG MESS

literally never says things that aren’t . ridiculous

examples:

“can’t today my existential dread is acting up”

“i only eat squid ink pasta it’s the most melancholy of pasta”

“i can barely navigate the hellish vortex between breakfast and dinner, let alone the labyrinth of the soccer field” ( said when he quit the soccer & lacrosse teams, which he used to play )

does not give a single fuck about anything ever

chainsmokes like u wouldn’t believe catch him on the bleachers during football practice wearing all black and smoking three cigarettes at once it’s disgusting ( lowkey he thinks it looks cool lol what a loser )

reads pretentious af shit like jd salinger and allen ginsburg and the other beats and thinks he’s so edgy. kill him

skips class.....all the time . . . . but has really good grades ? wild

hates everyone and everything that isn’t Elegant

acts like he’s so above all this high school hierarchy nonsense & too cool for it & blah blah but uh

he’s probably just depressed

maybe still gets invited to parties if people forget for a second that he’s a giant fucking weirdo now? but maybe not

i would Love a ferris bueller to his cameron frye but we’ll see

anyway he’s super hard to plot with but you should plot with me anyway

this has been an intro by aj thanks for coming to my ted talk

[lift-you-up]

Head Canons

Personal Fashion Style

Duran’s fashion style is very casual.  He can be seen wearing anything from t-shirts to hoodies with jeans.  Due to being made fun of for how he looked and how young he was back at Salem, Durans fashion is never too flashy or out there.  He will always avoid wearing anything that stands out, along with anything too fashion forward. Along this Duran’s favorite colors are the three primary colors red, blue and yellow so he will be seen frequently wearing either of those three colors.

What would Duran say before his parents die?

Duran cannot even fathom his mother ever dying.  With her missing he is unable to accept that she could possibly be dead.  So if he ever did have to face the death of his mother Duran would probably just cry and cry.  She had been all he had ever known, his only family that never looked down at him like a mistake.  If Duran was able to let out a few words he’d most likely say “I love you” about a million times, along with a few thousand “Thank you for everything”

What does Duran think of Creation? Religion?

Duran was raised to have Christian beliefs, as a child he often went to church and celebrated christian holidays such as Easter and Christmas.  As of right now Duran still holds onto these beliefs, but due to his busy schedule at Hogwarts Duran rarely has time to go to church.  So the only times where he does attend church would be holidays.

As for creation, Duran is torn.  He was raised to believe in God’s creation, but the scientifical explanation for how the world was created seems much more realistic.  So being the logical student he is Duran tends to believe the more scientific route with creation.

What would Duran most want to change about himself?

Everything.  From his slightly large ears to his personality Duran has absolutely no self esteem.   Even though he does not want to admit it, the bullying back at Salem destroyed any bit of esteem that he had. Duran would walk away from the bullying with a smile like nothing happened even though it did hurt him.  He now does everything with no confidence, usually believing all the bullying to be true.  He knows this is an issue, but he still cannot shake the dislike he has for himself.  So he does what everyone else does and hides this hatred with a smile and acts like everything is ok.

What is Duran’s one long term goal?

Duran wants to prove to everyone that he can do something amazing.  Even if he has no confidence in what he does, Duran still wants to prove himself to everyone.  He wants to show that just because he is a little different he can still do great things.

Hobbies

Music has always been a part of Duran’s life. His mother would always have a CD or radio playing and when Duran studies he often plays classical music to help him concentrate.

His favorite type of music is sectioned in two parts: Classical and Indie. Duran likes calm music the most but he doesn't mind pop and rock.

Back in America he would often go to an old rundown  baseball field and play the sport with some kids that lived near by. When he went to Salem there were many muggle born kids that liked the sport as well so he would sometimes join in the mini scrimmages they would have. Besides playing the sport Duran has a baseball card collection. It shrank since he came to England since he needed room in his bag for more important things. So he just has a small stack of 25 of his favorite cards.  

Wand

Pear wood, unicorn hair core, 13 ¾, Pliant Flexibility

Pear Wood ; This golden-toned wood produces wands of splendid magical powers, which give of their best in the hands of the warm-hearted, the generous and the wise. Possessors of pear wands are, in my experience, usually popular and well-respected. I do not know of a single instance where a pear wand has been discovered in the possession of a Dark witch or wizard. Pear wands are among the most resilient, and I have often observed that they may still present a remarkable appearance of newness, even after many years of hard use.

Favorite food?

Duran is not a picky eater, he will eat just about anything you put in front of him.  But the one food that he will always favor over any other would be peanuts.  From the fun shell to the taste Duran loves eating them.  So students in Hogwarts will often see him snacking on some, because he always carries a small bag of them to class.

Why is Duran so young?

Duran has clearly skipped a few years, his second and third to be more precise.  Duran has a vast knowledge of everything when it comes to magic, he is obviously not the most skilled.  But he is skilled enough to be able to skip two years.  Along with this Duran’s magic was also able to fully develop much quicker than any of the students his age, also leading to him to skip two years.

Home Life

Duran’s home life when he was younger was rather positive with his mother pushing him further and further. It was just her and him. Duran’s father was in the picture when he was younger but he disappeared when he was about 4 years old. He doesn't know why but his mom said it was for the better so Duran didn't question it. Duran’s mother rarely talked about her side of the family and when Duran asked why so many knew his last name and why they never saw that side of the family Duran’s mom just sighed saying “They think you're different and they think different is bad. I don’t want them to judge or hurt you.” Duran didn’t understand this until he moved in with his Aunt. When Duran’s mother went missing the only one to step up to take him in was his Aunt. His father’s side couldn't since he was a wizard and his grandparents didn't want anything to do with him. So his Aunt reluctantly took him in. Duran came to find out his mother came from a well off and popular pureblood family. When his grandmother found out her perfect daughter was pregnant with a Half blood she kicked her out not wanting to see her again. His Aunt had similar ideals. Brainwashed thinking anything that isn't pure is a waste of air, but Duran’s mother was her sister and she did love her. His Aunt isn't as loving towards Duran as his mother was, but it's okay as long as Duran follows the rules and doesn't talk the house stays calm.   

Is Duran a rebel? Does he drink? Do any drugs?

Even though Duran’s best friend is one of the worst role models to have, Duran does not hold Tim’s more inappropriate ideals to be true.  Duran does not drink, nor does he try to pick fights.  In his own opinion Duran believes that drugs are poisonous and should not be allowed to students, but due to being friends with Tim he has grown to keep that opinion to himself.  Along with this Duran is rarely ever seen using vulgar language.  Sure every once in awhile he will drop the occasional crap, but other than that Duran wouldn’t ever use any other word.   

He can fly?

How Duran found out about his flying ability was during his second year at salem. He was out by a forest near Salem ((I’m hoping there is some sort of tree area/forest near Salem so this can work??? But if there is not I will change this !!)) collecting some stuff for his herbology class. Duran noticed the sun setting and started to run towards the school not wanting to get in trouble for being outside past curfew. While he was running back he got slightly panicked because everything looked the same and he was lost. While he was running around trying to find an exit he tripped over a root of a tree and was starting to fall flat on his face but then he stopped. Duran opened up his eyes to see that he was floating an inch off the ground and in a second he was sent back tumbling towards the ground. After that small occurrences like this started happening and Duran started learning about this new ability of flight he had obtained.   

[gameruler]

Ok but Shadowhunters Harry potter au where:

The Lightwoods are a fine lineage of pure Gryffindors, and then it's the first day of class comes and Alec and Jace are so excited to go and be roommates and try for the quidditch team (Alecs is not THAT big of sports fan, but Jace is so he will give it a try) and they stand proudly when their names are called and it all comes down when the hat touches Alecs hair and not even gull 2 minutes after screams “SLYTHERIN”.

And the poor kids is devastated and sad and confuse, and it doesn’t help that JACE went to Gryffindor.  Alec tries to take deep breaths and calm down but he can barely see in front of him, thinking about how disappointed his parents will be. Jace tries to calm him down later, saying it will be alright, that is not that big of a deal. But it is and it doesn’t get alright. As a matter of fact, it gets worse when on the very next year Isabelle runs up to the very same hat and Alec can only close his eyes, his breath stuck in his throat, as in less than half of a minute it screams the title of the red and gold house.

BONUS FOR THE EXTRA PAIN: When the boys come back for the winter holidays, Alec finds his room to be almost completely blank. Sure his books are still there, and the very few art pieces he used to have hanging on his wall are still there but every single thing with the colours of Gryffindor is gone, including a painting of a golden lion he used to have above his bed. His room had been decorated with the colours of the house since he was young. Alec knew he would have to take them down when he got home and it would be sad but coming back to nothing was even more painful. His hearts shatters when Izzy tells him their mother went on a major freak out when she found out, tearing apart the boys decor and throwing it away. 

It’s not all bad, Alec has to admit to himself after a while. Here, where he is not constantly being watched with disapproval eyes, the guilt is not so bad. And it is pleasant to have housemates that share his same approval on rules, the importance of future, selective loyalty and tradition. Jace and Izzy would roll their eyes at him most times he started talking about any of those toppings really, but here he found people willing to listen to him. He finds friendship in a boy, one year older than him. Magnus is his name. Alec likes him, he knows a lot, is very well read and has travelled a good part of the world. One day during third year Alec asks him why is he not a Ravenclaw, Magnus tells him it is a very interesting house, with many good assets, “and their common room? Lovely!” he says and Alec rolls his eyes but Magnus just continues “So yes, Ravenclaw is pretty good...But as you may know, I’ve always liked being the best. And my dear Slytherin is the house that grants me that.” Alec nods as he hears and chuckled a little when Magnus winks at him when mentioning the word best. “Besides...If I was in Ravenclaw I wouldn’t have the pleasure to share the common room with you Alexander, my dearest” Alec blushes and looks away. He tells Magnus to shut up, his tone fake light but later when he hangs out with Jace after dinner his mind keeps turning around the different but similar words used by Magnus to classify their house and him. 

At the fourth year, Jace gets a girlfriend, a girl he has been flirting with for a while now to which Alec had to hear and be grossed out about for a good 2 years. She is a Gryffindor, like him. And a pureblood, like him. Perfect marriage. Perfect friendship. Jace goes on and on about how amazing she is, how happy he is, how funny she is, he has never laughed this much before and Alec takes a deep breath and watches him. So now, he not only barely sees Jace at school (and feels terribly anguished about spending time with him at home because is a constant comparison between them by their parents) the little time they do have to spent together, Jace is sticking his tongue inside that Fray girl. Things go down the day of the first game of the year. Alec didn’t join the quidditch team that year. He wasn’t particularly interested in that anymore, he wouldn’t get to play with Jace (worse, he would have to play against him) and it wouldn’t really impress his parents (probably would just get them mad). But it comes time to choose his seat and Alec has always chosen to sit at the gryffindor side,with Izzy, to watch Jace play. He would even sit with (ugh) Clary. But then he has feeling pretty on edge lately and angry at every single gryffindor. Everything has been too much lately, Jace ditching him for a girl, a new best friend, a gryffindor girl, his parents never approbing him when he used the golden child, Izzy being uncaring about rules and making fun of him when he was talking about some news that had came on the ministry of magic, just everything. So when it comes time to choose his seat and Izzy waves at him with Clary by her side he takes a deep breath and before he can accept it (because well, he was angry but he didn’t had other option. Watch it alone from the Slytherin stands? no thanks) Magnus calls him. Alec turns confused, he had never heard Magnus say one thing about quidditch since they met. “Raphael is playing. I’m a supportive friend” Magnus justifies. Raphael was a kid on Alecs year that Magnus had pretty much adopted, similar to what he did to Alec, but Magnus definitely doesn't touches Raphael with as much malicious on his eyes as he did with Alec. So Alec looks at Izzy, waves at his confused sister, and leaves with Magnus into the silver and green crowd.

Alec and Magnus get together at the winter holidays of fifth year. Alec stays at Hogwarts because things at home were just a bit tad unbearable for him. Magnus stays too. They get drunk on slughorns special liquor that Magnus had stolen (Slughorn new of course, but he pretended he didn’t because well, Magnus was an extraordinaire student, he deserved) and Alec curses his family and hides the two tears that fall and Magnus kisses his cheeks and whispers “The lightwoods might be “willing to die for the cause” stupidly brave” his breath tingles Alecs cheek and neck “but they are quite stupid if they don’t value the preciosity that you are my dearest” Alec turns and look into Magnus deep eyes and the older boy licks his lips. They kiss and its messy and amazing. So amazing. Alec thinks this is the best Christmas he had in a long long time.

On the sixth year, everybody stays for the winter holidays. Jace and Izzy take a stand to defend Alec after a nasty comment their mother made about not recognizing him anymore when she found out about his relationship. (“Dating a slytherin? How could you possibly even think about marrying one of them?” “I AM ONE OF THEM!” He screamed with tears and anger and frustration on his eyes “Well...At least you won’t be able to reproduce another one of that kind”). Clary stays to be with Jace (Alec and her had grown together, he didn’t really hate her now, sometimes he could even see why Jace loved her so much, not that he would ever admit that out loud) and her best friend stays too. A kid from Ravenclaw, named Simon. Apparently, he was almost a Gryffindor, but started rambling on why he should be a Gryffindor and making up the song lyrics to justify his reason and the hat told him to shut up and threw him into Ravenclaw “where his nerd artistic heart belongs” according to Clary. Magnus drags Raphael too and he and Simon seem to hate each other guts, something related to Simon annoying habits on the library that made difficult for Raphael to study. When they all finish eating and go to bed, Raphael says he has to come back because he forgot something. Alec and Magnus look at each other and pretend they didn’t see Simon telling Clary goodbye and hanging out with apparently no reason. 

7th year ends and Alec is happy with what he has achieved in his Slytherin life. He plans on moving in with Jace to a nice apartment complex. He was planning on moving out for a while now and Jace laughs and asks him if he really taught that he was actually going to move alone. Of course Jace was going with him. Magnus lives a couple blocks away, he becomes a potioneer. Izzy still lives at home,of course, but spends as much time as she can with them during holidays, and has already plans to move in with Clary as soon as she graduates. All four of them become aurores. Simon moves in with Raphael and live nearby, the slytherin man works for the ministry of magic and Simon works on a bookshop and still has a band on his halftime.

Alec still has his brother. He hasn’t left him even though they were from different houses. Magnus makes him feel safe and loved and Alec loves him back,so much. Izzy reminds him to breath and look around every so often and enjoy the little things. Clary makes good sunday pancakes and helps Alecs roomate unwind when he is to stressed and annoying. Raphael and him have deep conversations about politics and the mans bitter remarks make him laugh often, he is also thankful Raphael has the ability to make Simon shut up often. Alec decides that he is happy. A slytherin life is not so bad to be lived after all.

[dominichiranijournalism]

Peas & Glove: The Power of a United Community

Peas & Glove demonstrates how a community came together after a tragic car accident, to turn a negative situation into something positive, with islanders contributing in any way they could to aid Olly’s recovery.  

On the night of the 5th October 2014, Oliver (Olly) Newman pulled out of La Braye carpark in St Ouens (Jersey) and collided with an uninsured driver who was speeding at 84mph, leaving him as a tetraplegic, meaning he suffered a total loss of use of all four limbs and torso. The nature and seriousness of his injuries left him minimally conscious for many months as he was treated at Jersey’s General Hospital.

I had spent a mere two weeks at university in Manchester when it occurred. The heartbreaking news of his accident spread around the Island rapidly and within hours of it happening, my friend’s informed me of that night’s events. When someone explains a scenario like this over the phone, you can not possibly understand the magnitude of how critically damaging the crash had been. It was only in December when I visited him for the first time in hospital that I was able to comprehend the grim reality that Olly’s life may never be the same again.

“In the early days following Olly sustaining such horrific injuries, we were told to prepare for the worst.  I was asked to sign ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ orders and organ donations.  It was pretty dark.  Olly’s suggested recovery was minimal.”

The above account from Paul Newman (Olly’s father) puts into perspective the severity of the accident, upon recalling this time, he further expressed his views by putting a positive spin on the matter in his following remark. “However, and albeit two and a half years later, Olly is starting to communicate with us demonstrating his cognitive and decision making abilities. One of my close relatives recently visited a medium. When asked about him, she said that Olly’s day to die was 6th October 2014. But he didn’t, and there is a reason for that. We don’t know what that is yet but we will at some point in the future and all will become clear.”

When Olly was finally able to travel, he was transferred to a specialist neuro-rehabilitation centre in Surrey called QEF (Queen Elizabeth Foundation) where he now resides. In the wake of the accident, the Peas & Glove organisation was set up in order to raise money for Olly’s rehabilitation. It provided support to all involved as we could collectively focus on its progress which would directly benefit our friend in need.

Fourteen years ago, I had my first encounter with Olly when we were placed together in Jersey Surf School for a week. During the first day, we were sat, a bunch of kids together on the beach wall at St.Ouens enjoying our lunch, until we were rudely interrupted by a passing bee which decided to pester us all sending us into a panic. As we franticly ran around trying to avoid the said bee, Olly picked up a large rock and swung at the bee trying to save us from our terror. When it finally landed, Olly pounced and successfully squashed it leaving us all in fits of laughter. This was the very start of what can only be described as the amazing friendship we share.

In the early stages, Peas & Glove was mainly co-ordinated by Brontey Luxo-Piazza who has worked with many of Olly’s closest friends to establish the charity. She was able to provide her own interpretation of what the organisation encompasses, which is highlighted in the following statement.

“To me, Peas and Glove represents the essence of Olly and is a colourful reminder to us all to look after others and to live each day to the full. ”

Following the creation of Peas & Glove in February 2015, three events have been hosted at ‘The Watersplash’ in St Ouens Bay, one of Olly’s regular hangouts, where he was known and adored by a multitude of people. The first event we orchestrated really put into perspective the vast amount of people who had been moved by Olly’s unfortunate circumstances. A record breaking turnout saw an estimated 2,000 attendees pay tribute to him. The successes of our first event were evident, we were able to provide the community with an entertaining day out for all the family, whilst raising over £22,000 in the process. Despite the lengthy organising procedure, the creativity amongst the Peas & Glove team allowed the event to run smoothly. Activities ranged from live music, graffiti artists, motorcycle stunts, fire performers, face painting, zorb bubble football, a surfboard paddle and much more. This is what defines the organisation as something that is truly unique to Jersey, the event symbolises Olly’s spirit itself. Even the smallest details such as the visual display of colour provided through the sales of Peas & Glove tie dye t-shirts and the smiles of the attendees provided us with great satisfaction. Personally, I have been able to honour Olly by documenting the events on film, therefore the attached videos display each step of our journey.

The charity was originally named after one of his favourite motto’s, his own comedic take on the ‘peace and love’ phrase. However, the event itself was named ‘Permanent Ollyday’, this was formed through his admiration for the musician, Mike Love, who wrote a song called ‘Permanent Holiday’. We managed to get in touch with Mike who was touring Hawaii at the time. We retold Olly’s story to him, he was greatly moved by the work we had been doing. Consequently, he took time out of his busy lifestyle to deliver this personal heartfelt message in honour of Olly.

One of the fundamental reasons that Peas & Glove was regarded as such a success was due to Olly’s character. Brontey explains this perfectly, “After Olly’s accident it was obvious to see that many people had been affected by his accident. From musicians to beach goers, skaters, surfers, school and family friends, it is clear to see that Olly has made a massive impression on the people he has met on his journey and he continues to be loved by so many.”

Throughout the duration of my time spent with the beach community, fancy dress has always been something that was close to our hearts, throwing many parties in all kinds of wacky themes over the years. Hence, when it came to our second event on New Year's Eve (Junglebells), we decided to make it jungle themed due to the fact we had booked jungle legends, ‘Serial Killaz’ to headline the music line up for the event. The inventiveness and co-operation of the team was commendable. Our friends at Blip Productions took the lead on decorating our venue, they provided us with professional standard lighting, creating an atmosphere that surpassed what we had envisioned. The feedback from our clubbers appreciably remarked how amazing the decor that we put together had been, transforming Jersey’s musical playground into our very own jungle. ‘The Watersplash’ team have always supported our cause and provide us with friendly staff that enable the events to run smoothly, this was another sell-out event, meaning donations skyrocketed once again.

By the time our third event rolled around, we were close to £80,000 in donations. A large proportion of this was acquired through appearances at various Island events where we had been allocated stalls to sell our Peas & Glove merchandise. We had now become a recognised charity within the local community, our team was continually growing, finding new and exciting ways to raise money. Subsequent to the earthquake in Nepal, an islander named Sheri Burt set up a scheme in order to help the victims by dancing for 100 days, our team at Peas & Glove joined her on the 42nd day of her project. This demonstrates the strong connection between charities in our community and how awareness can be raised for more than one cause mutually. We also collaborated with ‘Groove De Lecq’ festival, whose proceeds were directed to charities such as ‘Autism Jersey’, ‘Headway Jersey’ and the ‘British Heart Foundation’.

Last summer’s event was actually split into two days, firstly we hosted a club event featuring the popular Drum and Bass artists, ’Pendulum’. The following weekend we held the main Peas & Glove event which mirrored the previous year but on a bigger scale. We especially focused on demonstrating the vast array of local talent that Jersey has to offer. The centre of the promenade was occupied by an outdoor stage and to either side of this were skateboarders and trials bikers, showing off their skills whilst live music blared through the speakers. Throughout the day people flocked in numbers to enjoy yet another incredible day, it’s success drove us over the £100,000 mark, an amount that nobody involved could have ever envisaged.

The outreach that has been achieved not only within our community, but around the world continues to astonish all of us. Islanders who have made a conscious effort to spread Olly’s story have allowed our organisation to grow in places we could never have imagined. Even the smallest contributions such as wearing our t-shirts create further awareness. Personally, a highlight of our journey would have to be when Sparkz from Manchester’s Mouse Outfit and Levelz represented by wearing a Peas & Glove hoody in two different music videos. These videos have acquired hundreds of thousands of views on various social media platforms.

At this point in time, we are able to facilitate specialist treatment that would not have been available to Olly beforehand. He now benefits from the support of a cranio-oesteopath who visits him weekly, this has provided detailed insight into his condition and the improvements he continues to make. With the new advances in technology the money raised has been used to purchase state of the art ‘Eye Gaze’ equipment which will hopefully enable Olly to communicate and control his environment. Recently we have upgraded to a bespoke powered wheelchair which will play a vital role in terms of his mobility. Controls on the chair will eventually help Olly to stand in an upright position independently.

“QEF is a truly wonderful and amazing place for Olly. It provides the best, professional neuro-rehabilitation care that Olly needs 24 hours a day, that Jersey simply cant offer.”

The above statement is from Matt Daly, a close friend of Olly’s who we considered an inspiration to all of us at Peas & Glove. Before Olly’s accident, the pair could regularly be seen spending time together jamming on their guitars whilst Olly beatboxed and sung to the tunes. He recounted Olly as being “a genuine, loving, caring young lad, who would do anything to cheer someone up when they were having a bad day. He could always succeeded in putting a smile on their faces”. We have always had a very close knit group of friends who would spend countless hours enjoying each others company and laughing till the sun went down over the beach. Olly acted as a brother to all who knew him. Matt constantly demonstrates the significance of what that bond means to us through the actions he has taken since the accident. He frequently visits Olly, living in the guest cottage of QEF and devotes months of his time assisting the staff to aid in his friend’s recovery. His experience of the staff at QEF highlights their focus on what Olly can achieve, rather than what can not be achieved. He witnesses the various activities they engage in with Olly, learning how they can specifically improve his condition. With this information he is then able to report any progress back to the group at home.

QEF offers a diverse range of one-to-one support programmes tailored to help improve cognition, communication, physical, social and functional abilities; and vocational skills. Their specialist services are delivered by a highly experienced interdisciplinary team of healthcare professionals. The team is composed of a consultant in rehabilitation medicine, specialist nurses, neurotherapists: physiotherapists, speech and language therapists, occupational therapists, neuropsychologists, a vocational support team, and Art and Music tutors.

Peas and Glove collected an official accolade for our achievements towards the end of last year. Brontey won the ‘Angel of Jersey’ award after being nominated by Caroline Evans (Olly’s mother) for her continued support to the family. She described this as being “a real honour to be recognised and something I cannot wait to share with Olly in the future.” Alongside the award, she was granted with £1,000 which was spent on travel arrangements for a group of Olly’s closest friends to visit him. Everyone who attended spent an afternoon with him at Brighton’s Sealife centre, followed by a music session at QEF the next day. As Christmas was just around the corner, everyone was thrilled to have the opportunity to celebrate with Olly whilst allowing him to be near the pleasant beach environment. The award not only marks yet another milestone in our journey, but also displays the kind sentiment of Brontey and all those who continue to contribute to Peas and Glove at every given opportunity. Without the support of the community, we could never have come this far, therefore it seems fitting to finish with Paul’s summary of our journey.

“Peas & Glove has further introduced me to who Olly was, the life he led away from his family and the love he had for those who he spent time with. Through my involvement in Peas & Glove I have gained access to people I would have never met. I have made new friendships and acquaintances with people I would otherwise never have crossed paths with. I have learned even more about his character and attitude and actually, it made me even more proud of him than I was already - and that was always high anyway.”