#Third is to cry when anyone commits the sin of not paying attention to him for five minutes

[vermillion-vulture]

Some snapshots from a day out with Peanut the pissboy

[neonbluewaves]

spare neon lore? i love her

My brain shut down for a moment because I wasn’t sure what to say that I haven’t before, so I’m going to try to explain things I haven’t before, if I repeat myself forgive me :v

Careful what you wish for tho, here comes a longass rant, and I mean LONG

·Something I’ve barely talked about is Neon’s residences. She spent her childhood in Spain, in the Prieto Manor, big enough for her, her granparents and her uncles to live in, and still have much space to spare. The land around it is really large, with a field of almond trees that turn everything pink when in bloom, so part of their income comes from almond production. They also have different cultives, mainly to substain themselves, because her family isn’t exactly beloved, as in many think they’re better of dead. They also have vineyards with grapes specifically for wine production. Another way of income they have is with art. The manor has a room full of (mostly) spanish art pieces that they sell from time to time. Neon has sold pieces to the Thyssens, and donates some to certain collections when the museum opens later on.

Those are the things they’re known for, there’s rumors that they also deal with illegal stuff, but nobody can say for sure. Once they’ve graduated, Neon hires Jae to work under him. If you ask him, he says he’s the “financial administrator”, but he most definetly works as something else.

All their lands are surrounded by a thick forest charmed to work like a labyrinth. Only family members know the way, and there’s no chance of finding your way out to the other side by luck, the labyrinth will throw people away the way they came in. The forest is also full of stray dogs along with other average animals you’d find there. Neon has spent so much time in that forest she knows the whole place by memory, not just the way in and out, so it’s impossible for her to get lost.

On that note, Neon showed early signs of magic, many of which resulted in selfinjuries, like things exploding or catching fire when holding them or around her, as well as being capable of making dogs do her bidding unknowingly, thinking they just really liked her and could understand her.

Her second residence is in England, Yorkshire. Living in her old granparents house, in a small, mostly full of wizards town. A pretty big two story victorian house, Neon didn’t like it nearly as much as the manor, mainly because it has a small garden, unlike the big fields they have in Spain. Still she made it work for herself. Currently she lives with her uncles in their house, down the street, but she drops by from time to time keep the house clean.

· If it weren’t for her grandfather, they would all be spoiled brats. Coming from nothing, Gonzalo Prieto made sure he taught them humility amongst other things. Rocio was a pretty strict mother and it rubbed off on them, making them strict mothers in turn. Teaching to their kids was pretty serious, things like writing with good caligraphy, reading, maths, history and art, (no wonder Neon hates paying attention yet gets good grades, she’s used to studying). Carmen sent Nuria and Neon to get some work on summer after their third year as a way for them to learn what she and Luisa had learn working with their father. With him being gone, Carmen decided the best way for them to learn what they did was to just work, so Nuria ends up in a bakery, where she learns not to burn the whole kitchen, and she made the bakers cry a lot with whatever she ended up cooking until she got decent. Neon on the other hand went to a blacksmith and just like Nuria, at the beggining it was a complete disaster. After a month of just cleaning and watching she got to try making a knife blade and it ended horribly, and broken. The next year she managed to make an actual knife blade that could cut. By year 6 she’s managed to forge many swords, they’re not the finest work, but they’ll do for this one spell she’s been planing to invent for a while. She uses it for the first time against her uncle.

·There’s many projects unfinished saved away by family members, mainly because they died before they could get midway or start. Neon’s dad had blueprints of a house on the beach he wanted to make for the family to go on vacation. Neon also starts her own project when she’s 14/15, her own scholarship for orphan wizards. Romul was the one who encouraged her to go through with it, and joined in the idea, her scholarship centered in Hogwarts students, and his in Beauxbatons students.

·Here’s an essay I wrote some time ago about character soundtrack themes, behold:

When creating the themes for the Prieto members (Neon, Nuria, Laura, Argon and Narciso) they all need one intrument in common that ties them together, the organ. The organ is the one instrument all members learn to play from a young age and they have one in the Prieto manor. This one intrument plays along with the motif chosen for them. The Dies Irae. The Dies Irae is an hymn in latin about judgement death, and is used frequently in media to signify death, this makes reference to the fact that all the family has a reputation of commiting homicides and the fear we see in the main four that their uncle is going to kill them. All the titles make allusion to church and religion. Although they are not religious, the play comes from the fact it all seems to go beyond what they can choose, as if a bigger force decided their fates from the start, like a marciless god, and the darkness of the songs plays more like requiems than character themes.It also rounds up with their symbol, the church grimm.

Each of them get their own special instruments within their themes, so:

Neon's themes would be:

-Church: composed with organ, violin (another instrument she plays) and some percussion, it's sombre and dark and is usually played when Neon is alone, either figuring out mysteryes around her or in introspection scenes.

- Grimm's wail: composed with an organ, violins and double bass, and strong percussion like a bass drum, it's a reprise of church meant for action scenes like duels, specially the one's within storyline, like the fight with the ice knight or the dragon.

Nuria's themes would be:

-Shrine: composed with organ and some acoustic guitar. it's a simple theme made for scenes where Nuria (or other members) are seen contemplating choices, past memories, etc. It has a certain nostalgia to it

-Golden cross: composed of just organ and electric guitar, it's a more rebelious theme played for Nuria's duels and stronger moments of emotion, the change of guitar mimics her change from sweet and docile to determined and more "violent"

Laura's themes would be:

-Faith: composed with organ alone it's a soft sad melody that goes along her guilt of having lost Argon and her denial of involving herself with Neon and Nuria's life out of fear of screwing up and losing them too. It starts out quite depressing and builds up to a darker tone, but always quiet like her, as if the melody also tries to hold in rage.

-Sin: another reprise of the original (Faith), made with organ and heavy percussion, brass drums and kettleddrums, used specially in moments of high tension, the closer she is to finding her uncle, the longer we hear this piece.

Argon's themes would be:

-Finding Solace: We hear this song in flashbacks. Depending on who is remembering we hear one part or another. Made of organ and harp at the begining, it's the part that plays on Neon/Nuria/Laura's memories of him, sweet and naive, and organ and brass air instruments in later parts are used in memories by Duncan/Rakepick/anyone who dealt with him when he was manipulating other's/doing shady stuff, more sincere but dark.

-Broken Prayer: made with organ, violins and strong percussion in paralel's Neon's theme "Grimm's wail", also used on more intense scenes.

Narcisso has one theme:

-Lost religion: made up of organ alone and one drum set. Plays with both the Dies Irae and a couple of notes that remind of the theme song of The phantom of the opera, playing both with death and mystery as to what this character really wants and seeks.

The family has it's own theme, played only twice in full. Made up of organs, electric guitar, violins and percussion intruments plays like a violent, dark orchestra, with punctual moments of choral voices singing as if a church choir, giving it a more gloom feel. The two instances played in full are in the memory of Rocio losing all her siblings and father, and the start of the battle between Narciso and his nieces. Small parts may be heard in scenes where Neon and Narcisso clash, like the river incident or when he injures her leg before year 6.

There could be more themes, but these are the most important ones I thought about.

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I hope this was enough for now

[itsyourchoicedevotionals]

Behind The Scenes

“… And He called to the man clothed in linen, who had the writing case at his waist. And the Lord said to him, “Pass through the city, through Jerusalem, and put a mark on the foreheads of the men who sigh and groan over all the abominations that are committed in it.” Ezekiel 9:4ESV

My last devotional about TMI— too much information— knowledge of the world’s kind. Worldly TMI brings sin and shame. God’s alternative, prophecy, assists those receiving to simultaneously endure and overcome.

What occurs when God’s doling out TMI? Amos 3:7ESV “For the Lord GOD does nothing without revealing His secret to His servants the prophets.”

Foremost, God has reasons for revealing events ahead of time. He wants us to know— why things are happening— He’s still in charge— only He deserves the glory— punishment must be rendered— and even in this the punisher doesn’t receive glory for what he’s done, but God receives the glory. “I am the Lord; that is my name! I will not give My glory to anyone else, nor share My praise with carved idols. Everything I prophesied has come true, and now I will prophesy again. I will tell you the future before it happens.” Isaiah 42:8-9NLT..  

Please study Ezekiel 8 and 9 with a Thompson’s Chain Reference Bible, BibleGateway for translations, pen and paper. While you study this: prayerfully look at what’s going on today nationally, internationally, and across denominational lines.

Chapter8 is jammed packed with what God sees behind the scenes. Would we do well, if we could see what God sees hidden in the darkness of this nation and our world? Some would tend to deny. Others would tend to get caught up and follow the trail of darkness. While others would succumb to fear and all its brother-demons. God obviously wanted Ezekiel to see all of the disgusting dark sinful actions of the leaders, from His perspective— (again remember He’s speaking to the church-Jews, about the church’s leadership,) gross sins done by so called ‘godly’ people.

Chapter9 reveals the destruction of the leaders who participated in the sins or turned the ‘blind eye,’ to those sins. Our text spiritually frightens me. Have I? Have we become so calloused and desensitized by the trash we see on programing, media, and news that we: —don’t even pay attention to the horrific sins in our surroundings? —Don’t cry out in prayer against the evil? —Don’t use the weapons God has given us in warfare against what seems to be overwhelming odds? God will have the ones marked “who sigh and groan over all the abominations.”

As I write this, I think of family who brush the evil aside with a ‘whatthe_,’ ‘oh well,’ ‘whatever.’ They often pick at me because— ‘you’re so serious.’ Yet, “It is better to go to the house of mourning… for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart.” Ecclesiastes 7:2ESV. These sins are what we must take seriously— if we have any wisdom.

I was reading through George Washington’s prophecy at Valley Forge. Everyone should read it, (on Google), taking it seriously. Two great perils have taken place against our nation with much bloodshed and finally the overcoming through the intervention of God. Through God we survived. My heart is wracked within me, for the third alines with a prophecy God gave me in 2000. The third peril will destroy the nation we know now. God is going to intervene on our behalf, but not without great loss of life and property.

Will you be one who is marked by the man in linen with a writing case? Oh I pray to God you are marked for protection. It’s your choice. You choose.

PRAYER: Sovereign God, protect Your children, who cry out to You day and night about the sins of our evil rulers around the world. Yahweh we beg for mercy, in Jesus’ name I pray.

by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2020 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional as author. Thank you.

[akkeyagentofhelheim]

The Court

The smell was sharp against his nose as he came to, his eyelids heavy like lead and a raging headache pounding against his temples. Jin struggled to wake himself up. He found that he couldn't move. His arms were tied to a rusty pole behind him, set into the wall and digging into his skin while he sat on the ground. But he hardly noticed, because an immense throbbing immediately shot up his arm, caked with dried blood and dirt, when he shifted.

"Ugh--!" he coughed out, sweat and more blood mixing on his brow as he tried not to cry out from the pain.

"Oh, he's awake."

A voice spoke right by his ear, and Jin lifted his head with difficulty to lock eyes with a young girl. She couldn't have been older than twelve. She stared at him with her hazel eyes, her dark, pin straight hair cascading down her back to the floor. She reminded him slightly of a young Akira, truth be told. The difference was the thick frames that sat on her nose as she gazed at him with a sleepy smile. And there was two of her, the identical twin standing behind, glaring at him as if he had personally committed a sin against her.

"Jesus Christ. Finally." A grungy teenage brunette groaned, her sunken face cast in a harsh shadow, "Somebody call Sis."

A third voice, gentle and subdued, called out, "Already did. She's coming up." It came from a tall woman with short auburn curls framing her stout face, standing beside the brunette. She looked to be roughly around the same age as Jin.

He let out a laboured sigh, wincing at the occasional stab of pain in his arm, but sizing up all four girls before him, "So it's you guys behind all this, huh?"

"That it is," a fifth girl pulled her legs from the table in front of him, previously unnoticed, whirling around in her chair. Her long blonde hair was tied up in high twin tails, her lips smacking on a lollipop as she regarded him with bright blue eyes. She smirked, "Although it's not all of us. You're not that important to meet everyone."

"Sure, whatever," he grunted under his breath, "What do you want from me?"

She shrugged, pointing the candy towards him, "Not my call, this was all Mother and Sis. I'm in charge of only this sector, and I follow whatever they tell me."

He pressed his lips together, tasting the blood, "All Mother."

"Yes, yes. You and your fancy titles." she replied irritably, "Can't believe this timeline's Bookkeeper is a goddamned Hel Co agent. Such a fucking pain in the ass."

"Yeah, man!" The brunette piped up, typing away on her laptop at an astonishing speed, "You shut down Sector One of the Marionette Project two years ago, and now you're messing with my shit in Sector Two? Hiding away our Merchandise--Jesus, had I been a second later I wouldn't have been able to triangulate that Scottish bitch's phone."

He caught his breath and kicked his past self mentally. Deo's phone. The last one I turned off.

She continued, "And the kids that we do get keep trying to wreck the equipment--! Like damn, don't you have anything better to do?"

"Not really," he forced an easy grin on his face, trying to be as annoying as possible.

It worked to a degree. "Oh, fuck you. Stop touching my stuff." she spat out, stepping forward threateningly.

The older redhead placed a hand on her shoulder, "Relax, Syndi."

Syndi flung up an arm, "My stuff, Halin! You know I don't give a crap about Gina's plans, but my gear--!"

The blonde snorted in her seat, twirling a lock of hair around one finger, "Fuck all the way off. Mother put me in charge of this sector, and if she heard you talking like that your ass will go back to Development faster than you can say Ragnarok."

"Oh, please. She can agree with me that you've made this your personal F.E. playground. NAGA." Syndi hissed the name with venom in her voice.

Gina fluttered her lashes dangerously, taking her attention off of Jin for a moment to glance towards her sister, "Shut up. It keeps those creeps in check. And Fire Emblem is a fucking great game okay. If you don't like how I run things then you can go to Sector Three. 2." She returned the same level of anger to her sister as she said her code name.

Syndi narrowed her eyes, but thought the better of it and remained quiet, going back to whatever she was working on her computer.

Jin let his eyes roam the room, blinking underneath his fringe. It was dark and hazy, as if a shadowy cloak fell around the air. Even the sounds were muffled, although that might have been due to his head injuries. But what was most familiar was the smell. It was musty, thick, metallic. He had encountered this many times; it was his job. But it had never been this intense before. The smell of blood and slaughter.

"What... is this place?"

None of the older ones replied. Instead, the twins spoke at the same time, eerie and almost mechanical in their response, "Storage."

Told me to be careful and not go into Storage... Jin squinted his eyes and struggled against the darkness, sillhouettes becoming clearer as his eyes adjusted. It took him a few moments, but he recognized the units that line the walls, plugged into freezer preservative systems. A Harvest. "I thought you guys only dealt with brains..."

The angrier twin shrugged, "Gina holds a few bodies for her side business. Pays the bills."

"Shh, Varyne!" the sleepy one hushed her urgently, glancing at Gina worriedly. The sector lead looked very disinterested and annoyed at the same time, "We're not supposed to tell him that!"

"It doesn't fucking matter, Voryne, it's just us here."

"You harvest bodies to sell, but beyond that you steal people's lives for the Marionette Project?" He said in a horrified tone, straining slightly at his ropes. His wounds screamed in agony, "What is Frigga's counterpart even hoping to accomplish in this timeline?"

"The answer to that is right in front of you, darling."

All five girls turned towards the voice and called out simultaneously, "Fylia!"

"You messaged me at the perfect time, Halin. I just got off the phone with Mother," The newcomer smiled, heels clicking hollowly on the floor as she approached Jin and looked down on him through her thick lashes. Her long, wavy hair framed her beautiful face, grey eyes sharp and horrifying against the dull glow of the coolers. "Hello, Bookkeeper."

He regarded her for a moment, "Who are you? Another sister?"

Fylia shook her head, laying a hand on his head almost condescendingly, "Not even a greeting back, how rude. I am the eldest, Fylia."

"Excuse me for forgetting, considering that you've kidnapped me..." he snapped his head back, and his vision spun from the sudden movement. Fylia. Halin. Syndi. Varyne and Voryne. Gina. For some reason, these names were familiar, but he couldn't quite place it just yet. He hissed through gritted teeth, "What do you mean by 'in front of me'?"

It was like she didn't even hear him. She leaned down slightly, a sickeningly sweet smile spread across her face, her skin smooth and perfect like porcelain. She didn't seem real, "Tell me, darling. Where is your Library?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Who are you? How are you and All Mother connected to Frigga?"

She sighed, a touch of annoyance lacing her voice, "Mother's Marionette Project contains many sensitive information, and we would prefer to keep any chances of it being leaked to zero. And the biggest threat to this, sweetheart, is you and your pesky little interdimensional organization. So let me ask again--" Her hand that was laid so gently on his head suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair, slamming his head into the wall behind him and holding it there. Halin and Voryne flinched, but the other three leaned forward with gleeful interest for a better look. Neither Fylia's face nor her cadence ever changed, "Where is the Library?"

Jin cried out in agony, his head reeling and almost blacking out. His injuries from Kuuga pulsed, "I don't... I don't have it... here..." he croaked out.

She exhaled through her nose, "Ah, that means it's somewhere. You wouldn't leave it unattended, but you also can't just give it to just anyone." She released her grip on him and sauntered back to where her sisters were gathered. She leaned against the table, tilting her head thoughtfully, "With the Time Jumper?"

Her sisters perked up at that.

"Oh shit." Syndi said.

Voryne clapped her hands, "The Goat Man!"

Varyne sniffed, crossing her thin arms, "Is he really that big of a threat by himself? The only person who understands any shit he spouts is right here anyway.There's nobody else who will believe him. As long as we secure the Library..."

"He found Sector Two in the timeline beside ours." Halin placed a finger against her chin and quirked her brows.

Syndi glared at Gina at that, "Because her employees are fucking careless retards."

"How was the other me supposed to know he would find them right as they were picking up that psychic girl?" The blonde retorted indignantly, waving the lollipop in the air.

Fylia hummed, swinging a leg underneath the other as they discussed. It was like they had completely forgotten Jin was also in the room.

Halin spoke carefully, "Should we track him down? That'll take a while though..."

"Besides he's a slippery little turd with those tats. We can't really 'catch' him technically," Varyne responded.

"Hmmm..." Fylia closed her eyes and placed a delicate hand on her face, considering their options.

Voryne suddenly perked up, her eyes gaining an unnaturally dead look in them for a quick second, but it was enough for Jin to catch, "Wait... I think he might be coming here..."

Fuck. What? No way... "No! It's not with him, it's at my place. I left it in my apartment, under the mattress--" he cried, but Gina was out of her seat and swinging a leg to kick him right in the stomach before he could finish his sentence. He immediately doubled over, the words lost as he coughed violently, almost retching onto the cold ground.

"I think he's coming for you, Mr. Bookkeeper." the sleepy girl continued, a smile spreading across her face. She liked Yun, she wanted to see him again.

Gina crouched beside him on the balls of her feet, leaning her forearms on her thighs and dipping her head to get a better look at his face, "Oho, he wants to save you. How wonderful is this friendship?" She popped the candy in her mouth again and pulled him up by the back of his shirt, throwing him into a sitting position as she grinned down at him.

Goddammit, Yun. His shoulders heaved as he tried to stay conscious. That need to help others will continuously be your demise...

"Hmm... maybe we can use this, then. And more likely than not Hel Co is on their way here, too." Fylia spoke, ignoring Jin and his struggled breathing. She turned to her sister, "How's the latest harvests going, Syn?"

The brunette replied,."Non rebels are done. Just gotta work on those last five now."

"Cool. We should start clearing out, then. Only the most valuable assets; I literally do not care about everyone else." Fylia stood, straightening out her dress, feeling very pleased with herself. "Then when all the players are here, light the place up."

"What about this narc?" Gina gave him another jab with the toes of her shoes. She was feeling slightly miffed that her command was set for destruction, but not too much. There wasn't really anything she could do against Fylia's command. She was the eldest, after all. The one that took after Mother the most.

"Leave him there for now, we can deal with him later when we have the Library." All sisters nodded and stood, getting to work.

Jin's eyes widened, and he cried out hoarsely, "Fucking cowards... you still haven't... answered my question..."

The six of them froze in their place, lit in the hazy glow of the Storage equipment as they fixed their gazes at him. The dead stare returned, this time in all of their eyes, standing eerily like... well, marionettes. A chill ran down his spine, but he held his ground, "Who exactly... are you?"

"Curiosity killed the Bookkeeper." Fylia replied with a small smile, "But I suppose I can humour you for a moment."

She took a step towards him, "You've heard our names. But they have been altered for this timeline as they are made. They are not our true titles. Those reside in the Asynjur Court."

"The Asynjur Cou..." His stomach dropped as it finally clicked and their names made sense.

"By the look on your face it's safe to say you know who we are." Fylia's grin widened, and once again she, nor any of her sisters seemed real. Like dolls, put together in an amalgamation of parts, birthed by the Mother and stitched with science and magic. Shit. Right in front of me. That's what the All Mother's making.

"Her Handmaidens don't appear in the Library too often, save for one favoured daughter, and we would like to keep it that way. So I suggest you cooperate if you know what's good for you, Juro Jin." She leaned in uncomfortably close to him, lips stretched over teeth that seemed to be too many for her mouth and glass skin that was too smooth. The last thing he saw was that terrifying beauty, then everything went black.

[bloojayoolie]

America, Arguing, and Bad: yelp Open in App 121 *EE 5/14/2014 I got tired of their crap a long time ago & I stopped answering their questions. So their 'brilliant' idea was to send one of my worst w landed a job at the enemies, who som Stafford PD, to talk to me. So he'd break into the house ask a bunch of questions &regardless of my answers he'd twist the facts to his advantage &spread lies &report back falsehoods. Regardless if I stated the truth, lies, or even neutral statements he'd manipulate it to his advantage. He'd even use a voice recorder &edit what I said &call people up with those audio recordings &they'd swear it wasn't edited. It was. Wake up. That guy would force me to say something, under duress,&then would take the audio recording &only play back that one part to people. So people would take it as literal as possible. When it should have been ignored On top of that they'd continually argue with me on what was or wasn't my home. I might pay the bills for it, but if I'm listed there under public records, my mail gets delivered there, or my po box that gets my mail is liked to it then it's my home. Besides this is another thing they could easily look up in the dictionary to solve: home [hohm] Show IPA noun-1. a house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family, o r household I would have fit under all 3. I know I've stated this in my other review, but they've had people remote to my computer. In turn tthey'd edit whatever I was typing at the time &bend it to their advantage. They put it in a kind of circular reasoning so if I deny thing it one makes the another statement look true &still pits me as the bad guy or wrong doer. At a few times they bugged my residence, including my now apartment &previously my home, &continue to do so without permission or warrants. Whenever I thought about names aloud, to create new characters for a novel/script/movie I was going to write, they'd come by &ask who he/she/it was &if I had killed them. Or they'd pull theres something wrong with your car' routine &arrest me &take me to the interrogation room Also once &for all falling asleep in the interrogation doesn't mean I'm guilty of anything. They'd keep me in there for hours &do nothing. They always insisted that it does, but no it doesn't. They knew I had sleeping issues so they'd turn up the heat, blot out all the noise, &sit me in a really comfy chair so l'd sleep. One of the irritating parts is that they'd ask me questions when I was half awake. I have always had trouble sleeping, due to them &the terrible citizens of America, so whenever I can sleep I will Others have spread rumors accusing me of practicing Voodoo, practicing Satanism, being a serial killer, being a child molester, committing cannibalism, killing my Grandfather, being a attention hog, a thief, &being a rapist. Just about everything someone can think of that is negative they've spread a rumor about me either having those capabilities or having committed said crime. None of these are true, but regardless this has kept me from romantic relationships, jobs, various forms of financial income (they've went out of their way to steal lottery tickets), &a better education because people believe whatever these wackjobs tell them. A few times I considered filing for bankruptcy, but things barely squeak by to the point where I don't have to. Another thing they did was that they'd sticka really fat midget in a blonde wig in the front of my door with a diaper on him. Of course he'd cry, but I'd call 911 &an officer would instantly come by to get the guy. I would even scream at the guy to NOT come back to my residence, but he would ignore it &I'd have the same thing happen to me MONTHS later. I mean really? What was the purpose of this? What part of this doesn't scream "it's a trap" to anyone with normal rational functionality? If I could sue these people into third world poverty I would. I hated every minute of this crap. A repulsive habit of theirs is to mock back facial expressions. No matter what it was they'll mock it back. On many occasions they've even mocked back many of my emotions of terrible events, even thought they've done it poorly. They've even say everything was 'acting' despite the fact that I was furious with them every time for wasting my time &accomplishing nothing. So they, or at least their citizens, have done a lot to destroy me for no valid or logical reason. Due to all of this, &more that I don't have room to type about here, I pray to die every day. I truly hate living &you people are absolutely at fault. May the world as we know it collapse on your shoulders from the weight of the sins you all have committed &your damnation be repeated to you daily. This is a fitting punishment seeing as you all have done the same to me with your mindgames for more then a decade. This isn't being dramatic. I truly hate you people this much Midgets, voodoo, satanism. This review of a police department has it all.

[jaeneral]

“they say the dead walk these woods freely. ridin’ on beasts taller and wider than any man anyone has ever seen. wolves so ferocious, that our own in elwynn are nothing but gentle an’ tame dogs next to them. spiders so black and cruel, that the ones crawlin’ my home forest are small, little bugs kids play with. and the dead mount them and raid these cursed roads, killin’, hackin’, slashin’ every living being they see. doesn’t matter... old or young. woman or child. none escape the wrath of the dead.” the boy smacked his lips, giving his best to hide the devilish grin tickling his plump, worm-like lips. short of stature and scrawny, the boy smelled of summer and of sunlight, of fresh bread and pork belly pie, of flowers, of laughter and of green grass. what did he know about duskwood? in defiance, J. paid him no attention, although the subtle gasps and ragged breaths of his companions were more than enough to fill the big-mouthed boy’s chest with pride.

their guide, a massive yet limp of foot man, spared no glance behind his shoulder, nor he heeded to confirm or deny the frightening rumours. slow yet steady, stubbornly refusing to burden himself with a walking cane, he lead the pack of green boys through tangled twigs and foul, earthly smells. “a bloody bear mauled me leg, almos’ ripped it apart,” he had found little courtesy to cure the boys’ curiosity after they’d been rudely staring at the way the man walked, taking them for young fools who were yet to know what the night watch was made of. he smelled of sweat and rotten flesh, his bristly beard festered by fleas, teeth yellowed by time, a deep, old scar adorning the left side of his face from the edge of his brow to the hollow of his cheek. “twas a ghoul, a nasty one,” he claimed, ignoring the muffled guffaws of the boys. they whispered of walking dead, but none of them truly believed in them.

and young fools they were for that. the scrawny boy had lived all his life in goldshire, sickly and frail, still clinging to his mother’s breast at the shameful age of 13. dusty was his name, sent off by his surly father to serve the watchmen and, hopefully for him, die and never return. the taller one was as silent as he was sturdy, his gaunt cheeks strangely contrasting with the small dots meant to be his eyes, enlarged pupils shivering from left to right, scouting the darkness of the trees for any dangers which may arise. he spoke little, so J. didn’t know his name, however he was certain he had one. and it’s the same parents that had given him his name that sent him off, stripping him of land rights and passing them to his much younger, stronger and smarter brother.

the third one was a real fool, the smug grin never leaving his lips, thinking of himself above of serving under the night watch, but he had to pay for his thievery in stormwind --- off with a hand, or off to duskwood to protect the people of darkshire. J. hardly held back a smile thinking of how the idiot pissed himself when he was given these choices with no way out towards freedom, but now he strutted like a little lord, shoving his wooden club through spiky bushes, claiming to be taunting the dead. roel he called himself, and he was as ugly as the veteran guiding them towards the town of darkshire, yet his heart and soul weren’t twisted yet by the wickedness of this forsaken land. J. liked none of them, cautiously keeping himself away at least a few feet from all of them, his tall, lean figure concluding the small array of cloaked shadows striding the main road. the crown spared no good men for keeping the southern forests safe, so they sent off the lowest of scum, forcing them into servitude, and no one was worse than J.

countless of sins have dried blood on his hands, countless of scars held dreadful, sinful stories under their hideous appearance and countless of nightmares would haunt his sleep, the rogue knowing better than anyone that whatever duskwood had prepared for him, it didn’t compare with the atrocities he had committed under the heavy hand of edwin vancleef. the iron-branded mark itched under his leather vest, a grim reminder of what he had chosen to flee to, of the false justice he thought he had been serving on the innocent souls of westfall. his sins to carry for the rest of the days, but his fighting skills, his cunning mind and his agile feet were what darkshire needed, a criminal as he was, yet the brave men of the night watch would not spare him with a quick death. he remembered admitting that he’d rather have his head cut off, than given a second chance, and 16 as he was, no one listened to him. 

his tongue was burdened by words he dare not spoke, words he had little interest in sharing in the first place, but the silence was brooding and his companions were skittering around him like children. “there’s no dead ridin’ these woods,” he hissed. “death? oh yes. we passed raven hill. the whole sad lot of them ravaged til none was left. heard they threw babes in a hole and covered them in dirt. terrible things happened here, but there’s no corpse rolling in his grave. you’re bringing shame to all these people sufferin’ here.” the silence seemed to fall deeper after he spoke, not even worm-lips daring to raise his eyes at the former defias brother and quarrel with him. limping and puffing tired breaths of air ahead, the veteran watcher continued to ignore them. maybe someone would have gained some courage to argue with J., had they not halted their steps all at once, eyes creeping up on the white silks of the black widows arching from tree to tree. “look at it...,” the fool roel mused, the fear in his eyes trying to measure the sizes of the beasts which have left the tangled webs above their heads.

“aye.” with a limp turn of his heels, the veteran roared, annoyance radiating in his black, intimidating eyes. “you bunch of girls done wetting your pants? still a long road til darkshire, an’ i say we waste no time. they hunt and feast at night, and gods be merciful, the sun’s yet to set. but it won’t be long until the real darkness catches up on us, and then you’ll regret bein’ born boys. you’ve knowledge of no fear til you lived a whole night in these woods. aye, but that time will come later, none of you are prepared.” J. could feel the twitch on his lips, a defiant glint piercing towards the watchman. 

“not even you, defias pup.” spit came with each poisonous word he spoke, the sight of rotten teeth and cracked lips turning J.’s stomach upside down. what a terrible man. “this ain’t killing women with children hanging at their tits, or old men with blunt spikes protecting their rat-infested farms. all you killed was those weaker than you. and only now, defias pup, you face real danger. the wolves won’t cry for mercy, the bears won’t bow their heads in shame, the ghouls won’t scream runnin’ when they see you comin’. oh no, defias pup, and all of you useless maggots, oh no. you’d be the ones needin’ a pair o’ eyes to watch your backs.”

and the road to darkshire was as long as he promised, and the sun was slowly being swallowed by an unseen horizon. and the night came.

[dfroza]

Today’s reading in the ancient book of Proverbs and Psalms

for Thursday, july 23 of 2020 with Proverbs 23 and Psalm 23 accompanied by Psalm 34 for the 34th day of Summer and Psalm 55 for day 205 of the year

[Proverbs 23]

When you’ve been invited to dine with a very important leader,

consider your manners and keep in mind who you’re with.

Be careful to curb your appetite and catch yourself

before you fall into the trap of wanting all you see.

Don’t crave their delicacies,

for they may have another motive in having you sit at their table.

Don’t compare yourself to the rich.

Surrender your selfish ambition and evaluate them properly.

For no sooner do you start counting your wealth

than it sprouts wings and flies away like an eagle in the sky—

here today, gone tomorrow!

Be sensible when you dine with a stingy man

and don’t eat more than you should.

For as he thinks within himself, so is he.

He will grudgingly say, “Go ahead and eat all you want,”

but in his heart he resents the fact that he has to pay for your meal.

You’ll be sorry you ate anything at all,

and all your compliments will be wasted.

A rebellious fool will despise your wise advice,

so don’t even waste your time—save your breath!

Never move a long-standing boundary line

or attempt to take land that belongs to the fatherless.

For they have a mighty protector,

a loving redeemer, who watches over them,

and he will stand up for their cause.

Pay close attention to the teaching that corrects you,

and open your heart to every word of instruction.

Don’t withhold appropriate discipline from your child.

Go ahead and punish him when he needs it.

Don’t worry—it won’t kill him!

A good spanking could be the very thing

that teaches him a lifelong lesson!

My beloved child, when your heart is full of wisdom,

my heart is full of gladness.

And when you speak anointed words,

we are speaking mouth to mouth!

Don’t allow the actions of evil men

to cause you to burn with anger.

Instead, burn with unrelenting passion

as you worship God in holy awe.

Your future is bright and filled with a living hope

that will never fade away.

As you listen to me, my beloved child,

you will grow in wisdom and your heart

will be drawn into understanding,

which will empower you to make right decisions.

Don’t live in the excesses of drunkenness or gluttony,

or waste your life away by partying all the time,

because drunkards and gluttons sleep their lives away

and end up broke!

Give respect to your father and mother,

for without them you wouldn’t even be here.

And don’t neglect them when they grow old.

Embrace the truth and hold it close.

Don’t let go of wisdom, instruction, and life-giving understanding.

When a father observes his child living in godliness,

he is ecstatic with joy—nothing makes him prouder!

So may your father’s heart burst with joy

and your mother’s soul be filled with gladness because of you.

My son, give me your heart

and embrace fully what I’m about to tell you.

Stay far away from prostitutes

and you’ll stay far away from the pit of destruction.

For sleeping with a promiscuous woman is like falling into a trap

that you’ll never be able to escape!

Like a robber hiding in the shadows

she’s waiting to claim another victim—

another husband unfaithful to his wife.

Who has anguish? Who has bitter sorrow?

Who constantly complains and argues?

Who stumbles and falls and hurts himself?

Who’s the one with bloodshot eyes?

It’s the one who drinks too much

and is always looking for a brew.

Make sure it’s never you!

And don’t be drunk with wine

but be known as one who enjoys the company

of the lovers of God,

For drunkenness brings the sting of a serpent,

like the fangs of a viper spreading poison into your soul.

It will make you hallucinate, mumble,

and speak words that are perverse.

You’ll be like a seasick sailor being tossed to and fro,

dizzy and out of your mind.

You’ll awake only to say, “What hit me?

I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck!”

Yet off you’ll go, looking for another drink!

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 23 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 23]

A song of David.

The Eternal is my shepherd, He cares for me always.

He provides me rest in rich, green fields

beside streams of refreshing water.

He soothes my fears;

He makes me whole again,

steering me off worn, hard paths

to roads where truth and righteousness echo His name.

Even in the unending shadows of death’s darkness,

I am not overcome by fear.

Because You are with me in those dark moments,

near with Your protection and guidance,

I am comforted.

You spread out a table before me,

provisions in the midst of attack from my enemies;

You care for all my needs, anointing my head with soothing, fragrant oil,

filling my cup again and again with Your grace.

Certainly Your faithful protection and loving provision will pursue me

where I go, always, everywhere.

I will always be with the Eternal,

in Your house forever.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 23 (The Voice)

[Psalm 34]

A David Psalm, When He Outwitted Abimelech and Got Away

I bless God every chance I get;

my lungs expand with his praise.

I live and breathe God;

if things aren’t going well, hear this and be happy:

Join me in spreading the news;

together let’s get the word out.

God met me more than halfway,

he freed me from my anxious fears.

Look at him; give him your warmest smile.

Never hide your feelings from him.

When I was desperate, I called out,

and God got me out of a tight spot.

God’s angel sets up a circle

of protection around us while we pray.

Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—

how good God is.

Blessed are you who run to him.

Worship God if you want the best;

worship opens doors to all his goodness.

Young lions on the prowl get hungry,

but God-seekers are full of God.

Come, children, listen closely;

I’ll give you a lesson in God worship.

Who out there has a lust for life?

Can’t wait each day to come upon beauty?

Guard your tongue from profanity,

and no more lying through your teeth.

Turn your back on sin; do something good.

Embrace peace—don’t let it get away!

God keeps an eye on his friends,

his ears pick up every moan and groan.

God won’t put up with rebels;

he’ll cull them from the pack.

Is anyone crying for help? God is listening,

ready to rescue you.

If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there;

if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath.

Disciples so often get into trouble;

still, God is there every time.

He’s your bodyguard, shielding every bone;

not even a finger gets broken.

The wicked commit slow suicide;

they waste their lives hating the good.

God pays for each slave’s freedom;

no one who runs to him loses out.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 34 (The Message)

[Psalm 55]

A David Psalm

Open your ears, God, to my prayer;

don’t pretend you don’t hear me knocking.

Come close and whisper your answer.

I really need you.

I shudder at the mean voice,

quail before the evil eye,

As they pile on the guilt,

stockpile angry slander.

My insides are turned inside out;

specters of death have me down.

I shake with fear,

I shudder from head to foot.

“Who will give me wings,” I ask—

“wings like a dove?”

Get me out of here on dove wings;

I want some peace and quiet.

I want a walk in the country,

I want a cabin in the woods.

I’m desperate for a change

from rage and stormy weather.

Come down hard, Lord—slit their tongues.

I’m appalled how they’ve split the city

Into rival gangs

prowling the alleys

Day and night spoiling for a fight,

trash piled in the streets,

Even shopkeepers gouging and cheating

in broad daylight.

This isn’t the neighborhood bully

mocking me—I could take that.

This isn’t a foreign devil spitting

invective—I could tune that out.

It’s you! We grew up together!

You! My best friend!

Those long hours of leisure as we walked

arm in arm, God a third party to our conversation.

Haul my betrayers off alive to hell—let them

experience the horror, let them

feel every desolate detail of a damned life.

I call to God;

God will help me.

At dusk, dawn, and noon I sigh

deep sighs—he hears, he rescues.

My life is well and whole, secure

in the middle of danger

Even while thousands

are lined up against me.

God hears it all, and from his judge’s bench

puts them in their place.

But, set in their ways, they won’t change;

they pay him no mind.

And this, my best friend, betrayed his best friends;

his life betrayed his word.

All my life I’ve been charmed by his speech,

never dreaming he’d turn on me.

His words, which were music to my ears,

turned to daggers in my heart.

Pile your troubles on God’s shoulders—

he’ll carry your load, he’ll help you out.

He’ll never let good people

topple into ruin.

But you, God, will throw the others

into a muddy bog,

Cut the lifespan of assassins

and traitors in half.

And I trust in you.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 55 (The Message)