#also i never believed in worshipping a human being before i learnt about the existance of Oda-sensei

[bluebird990]

I've been exclusively watching One Piece since June this year and today I finally took a break and decided to re-watch Fairy Tail and?? I was like, was this always this fast paced????

I had to recheck if I had accidently increased the speed. I hadn't.

One piece has changed me. Forever. I feel like I've become a Saint with my newfound patience.

But there's a downfall as well. I rewatched JJK and I was like, isn't this too fast paced?? Where's the build up to the epic moment? Why is the fight over already?? How was I ever satisfied with just 50 episodes!?!?

Now i need all my favorite anime to be 1000 episodes long.

One piece has ruined me.

[thong-in-the-twist]

Chapter: Gwangju

//Gong Yoo (Kim Shin) x you

Summary: To atone for his sins he is forced to wander the Earth searching for her before it’s too late.

Prologue: Silla Goryeo Joseon Tamna March 1st

It's been three years since I updated this last. Exactly three years and 9 days, and I'm glad to be posting it. God it’s been so long I no longer remember how I used to format my entries. I don’t even remember my tagging system. A word of warning: modern Korean history is heavily marked with suffering and for the purposes of this story I needed "her" to go through... A lot. But there is only one chapter left, so hopefully, we won't be suffering a lot longer.

***

It was obvious to him that she was going to be reborn immediately. It worked like that for centuries, why this time it would have been different? So he started searching for her immediately, anxious. His land was crying, his people were suffering.

Forests were being cut down to fuel the new age, the industrialization age. Instead, the land was being converted into fields: rice, cereals, cotton. Colonizers were laying new roads, tarmac was flowing down the peninsula so similarly to cold mountain streams. All to fuel the new age, all to feed the great Japanese Empire.

Mines on the peninsula were running day and night, long shafts filled with exploited bodies. Names were being changed to Japanese sounding ones, men were forced to cut their hair, celibate Buddhist monks were forced to marry, kids were banned from learning Korean in schools, papers were censored, farmers forced out of their lands, his people were forced to worship Shinto, and to see the Emperor as a god.

Shamanistic rituals were even scarcer than during the reign of the Lee dynasty. People were no longer openly calling for him, but their thoughts thrown into the ether were reaching him. Pleas and begging, prayers and threats, all were filling his mind and heart. The burden was heavy. Not too heavy to carry, but it seemed harder than the sword he was carrying in his heart. It seemed heavier than the last memories of his other life, than the image of red on white stone.

She found her. Young girl in the seaside village, barely 20 kilometers north from the village where she was born as Binna, centuries ago. The village tree was still alive even if the village itself didn’t exist anymore. Kim Shin didn’t know what happened to it after he saw her sacrifice herself back then. Were it pirates, or wars, or famine that drew people out? There was no way of knowing it.

She was four when he found her. Back in Joseon she would have been found just in time, he’d have two years to convince her parents not to give her away. And then 11 years until she had to be wed. Her village was far off the beaten path. It was far from the capital and far from Japanese shores. People were hardened and down-to-earth but it was a tightly knit community. It was as safe as it could have been in that age and time.

Kim Shin spent his days under the Holy Tree, now surrounded by forest. He remembered the village square and colorful ribbons. He remembered tax collectors and their cart. He remembered Binna’s clothes and hair, and sword splitting her throat open.

Kim Shin visited her house by night. He hid in the shadows, not ready to be seen by her nor her parents. He watched her as she slept in the same room as the rest of her family. He watched her wondering what woman she would grow up to be. He hoped that he’d be able to shield her from any hardship that she was destined to face in her life.

While watching her sleep, he was reminiscing about her previous lives. Her bravery, her tenacity, her pride and her selflessness. The lives that were lived and ended for his people, the lives that were ended for him, the ones that were ended because of him.

Kim Shin was restless. He was used to waiting. He learnt to be patient after centuries of waiting and slowly working towards his goal. And yet, he was restless. Sitting by the Holy Tree he was restless and anxious. Her last life was sacrificed for the country. For this land, and for the people. And here he was waiting idly for her to grow up. She was safe.

The Holy Tree was old but strong, with new springs and bright green leaves. It was magnificent even without ribbons and paper talismans. It was safe, far off the beaten path.

Their people were not.

And yet, he was idly waiting for her to grow up and take away his burden, while sitting under the Holy Tree.

While their people were desperately begging for help.

She was safe. And he had time. He had enough time to present her the liberation of their people as a wedding gift.

And thus, Kim Shin was off once more.

*

Koreans were fighting on the peninsula, yes, but there were fighting abroad as well. Kim Shin supported the Provisional  Government of Republic of Korea in Shanghai, and aided students in Japan. When the empire invaded Manchuria, he was there fighting them off. He pleaded and negotiated with Chinese diplomats for them to move against the assailant before it was too late.

But the Central Kingdom waited too long, they were undecided way beyond what was safe. And thus, the Japanese attacked first.

The war that broke out drained the Korean peninsula even more. They were the ones to bear the brunt of feeding and supplying soldiers. And then, when Kim Shin was sure it couldn’t be worse, European war came to their lands, merging with the already raging Sino-Japanese conflict and bringing more players, more arms and more death into the equation. His people were forced into the Japanese army, forced to fight far away from their home – living and dying in China, Indonesia, Philippines.

He went where they were. It wasn’t their fight. They were farmers, artisans, teachers, workers – they weren’t warriors. He was. Kim Shin was back in the field, once more fighting for his homeland. Once more he took upon himself to be the most faithful agent of death. Immortal and determined, with unfamiliar weapon in his hand, but oh so familiar scent of blood, tears and fear clinging to him. The art of war changed through centuries but principles reminded the same.

But now it was harder to understand the purpose. It was harder to face dying foes. Every soul in his wake had hopes, and dreams, and dedication, and destiny – and yet he was invading the realm of the Divine, deciding who was to live and who was to day. What he did was to slaughter.

 But he was also fighting for his compatriots, forced to lay their lives for the occupant. He fought to save them and to bring them back to their land. He helped them escape, he cleared camps, he dealt with Japanese officers.

Japanese defeat was what they were hoping for anyway.

It was in Perek that faced his hardest encampment. It was in Perek that among Japanese officers and soldiers, and his people forced into ranks, he found others. It was in Perek that among male voices he heard female pleas.

It was in broad daylight that he marched through the camp, taking in the tents and appraising layouts and main locations. Where to get food, where to get supplies, where were the blind spots. It was in broad daylight that he heard a plea so similar to one he heard centuries ago in the Song Dynasty’s capital. So earnest and so broken plea of death.

After the first one came another, hurried and repeated like a mantra, like a prayer. And another, and another.

And another.

So familiar. So heartbreaking.

Here, so far from his homeland, he heard her begging for death. For an escape.

But she was safe. She was safe back in her village, on the shores of Eastern Seas. She was safe back in her village, so close to the Holy Tree.

And yet, it was her voice, strung thin and wavering, but unmistakably hers.

A taste of bile invaded his throat as he zeroed on a dilapidated building. Better than a shack only in the name, with dark walls and dirty windows barely containing the horrors inside. His surroundings seemed to disappear, sounds of the encampment dying out, the building his focal point.

He took his time. Waiting itself was horrible, pleas constant, it would have been so easy to just end it. End all of it, all of them, all of the oppressors, just raze the  camp to the ground. But he was afraid. Afraid of going inside and seeing that was happening, how they lived. It was easy to guess, and hard to understand. Justified rage was clawing his insides, not only for her, but for all of them. It wasn’t human to do, not that the occupant was ever human.

His fear was their prolonged suffering.

He fulfilled every one of their pleas. Every single one. Some wished for death, some wished for death for their oppressors. Some wished for health, some wished to never remember. Some wished for another chance in life, some wished for one last meeting with assailants and sharp object to meet them with. He did it all.

She wanted a knife. Sharp, and easy to conceal. She found it with glee and fervor. She wanted for her doors to be open and for night to be dark. She wished for rain, heavy and obscuring. She wished for that man to fall. To suffer. To know. To fear. To never forget.

Kim Shin watched her as she sneaked out of her room. He watched her back as she sneaked through the building, chastising himself for ever believing she was safe. It wasn’t even 15 years since he saw her last. He watched her as she found her prey. He watched her as she made sure that man would never do the same thing to another woman ever again.

His screams were muffled by a gag she made out of her sad excuse of a blanket. His blood was mixing with the falling rain, that matted her hair to her face. Her skin was ghostly, blush and looked paper-thin.

Once again he watched her as she raised her blade against herself. She was sure and focused,  and emanating finally found peace. She was quick and efficient, and he barely had time to catch her before she fell down. She was smiling when her head hit the cradle of his head and her open eyes were staring lifelessly at the rainy clouds.

Kim Shin sat there in the rain, holding her body, obvious to now quiet whimpers coming from the man laying a few steps away from him. Once more her life was filled with suffering. Was her childhood good? How did she grow up? How long was she here?

He didn’t cry – feeling like he did not deserve to. She wasn’t the only one of his people that went through this, and something was telling him that there were countless more suffering now.

*

Finding her was important, but making sure that the world she was being born into was better became urgent. Kim Shin knew he couldn’t deal with her suffering. All recent lives he witnessed ended in a tragedy. Queen trying to protect freedom, young girl fighting for it, and the one that saw it in death.

She deserved freedom, all of his people did.

And freedom came with pain, tears and even more death. Foreign powers fought over his land, influencing its growth and stagnation once again. His land was sold and divided even after its occupant lost the war. Both red and blue powers abhorred giving Koreans back their land and their freedoms, forcing their ideologies upon them.

And thus the greatest conflict shook the land once more. June 25th, the day when brother went against his brother. Three years. Three years of fights, civil war raging on the peninsula destroying what was left after 35 years of the occupation.

And even that conflict ended because outside powers decided so. Every death, every lost soul – it was all because foreigners decided to settle their differences right there on Korean soil. The wound left by the war was painful and still suppurating. Peninsula was divided into two, one nation was split and the border between them became a wall that separated families and broke people’s spirit.

He saw fourteen hundred years of conflicts and changes, and ups and downs, but the last hundred years were far the worst he had seen. For the first time in his long life he wasn’t sure how to go about finding her. If he even should. Every time he found her, he lost her just as quickly. She suffered so much.

But if he didn’t search for her, he was sure that the Divine would find another way to punish them. Like giving her knowledge of his existence and urging her to wait for him.

By now Divine schemes were somewhat readable. He’d find her where he’d least expect her – where she was supposedly the safest, yet in the biggest danger. People in the south were struggling, famine and corruption was rampant. North was getting help from other communist states and plotting expansion. And he couldn’t find her.

Just like when he found her on Tamna, she wasn’t here. She wasn’t within the borders of both Korean states. And that’s what horrified him. He looked in China, so many of his compatriots lived there. He looked in Japan among those who stayed after occupation. He searched in South East Asia among those who stayed after the second world war. He visited the United States of America, hoping to find her there. And yet, as if the Divine was shielding her from him, he couldn’t find her.

In Germany he saw the Wall. The Berlin Wall dividing one nation into two. The blue state and red state, just like his homeland, was divided. The Wall was fresh and imposing, newly built. A palpable sign of schism. A knife in a wound, cutting it more open with every breath. It wasn’t as protected as the inter-Korean border was but it served as a reminder of similarly painful division.

As Kim Shin walked by the Wall, on the western side of the border, he heard a cautious ask. Barely audible, fleeting.

The person was asking for a haircut. If he wasn’t over fourteen hundred years old, he’d dismiss it as an auditory illusion. What would be a Korean doing behind the Iron Curtain – asking for a haircut?

Kim Shin knew better. Kim Shin knew: she was there.

*

Finding his way into the USSR was easier than he thought it to be. As a citizen of the communist, neighboring nation, he was more than welcome. He travelled from Korea, surprised by the sheer numbers of Koreans on the USSR's eastern lands. But the closer he got to Europe the fewer they got. By the time he left Moscow, his head was clear and free of usual prayers. It was in Poland that he heard one more plea – a different voice, exactly the same ask.

Children. Who Kim Shin found were children. From 5 years old to 16. War orphans being cared for by people so vastly different from them.

She was among them, one of the oldest kids, happily chatting in weirdly hard language.

It took him quite long to understand why all the kids kept praying for a haircut. Their hair was neatly kept, just like their clothes, their rooms. There was something of military efficiency in the way they were being brought up, and Kim Shin understood that it was due to a few Korean supervisors that came here with kids.

Kids were cared for, but not exactly loved. That’s why they thought so fondly of getting haircuts. Hairdressers would pat and massage their heads – that was an extent of warmth they were getting.

*

She and the rest of the kids were sent back to Korea a few months later. She drowned in a river when she tried to escape back to her European orphanage for the third time. Yalu River was her undoing, just like those centuries ago cold waters of the sea took her away.

So much death. So much suffering. What for?

As the North's situation was getting worse, the South started fighting for its economy. Authoritarian governments in both Koreas were similar in goals but different in execution, and slowly their fates were changing. South Korea was coming out of poverty, just as North Korea started spiraling into it.

With newly found resources South Koreans were finally able to think and want – and what they wanted was freedom. Freedom through free choice and democracy. Assassination of general Park, southern dictator, seemed like a perfect opportunity – but before democratic movement could raise its momentum it was brutally squashed.

***

“If we all go, they won’t be able to hold him! We need to get him out!”

Every frantic sentence is met with loud approval. You weren’t surprised when they formed a new government without looking back at people. You weren’t surprised when Chun Doohwan took over KCIA while still holding his position in the Korean Army. Of course he would. Even martial law wasn’t a surprise. But a few hours ago you heard that they arrested Kim Daejung.

Kim was an oppositionist. He was fighting for democracy in your country, and what was more important he was from your region. Rumors said that he was being held on charges of instigating demonstrations.

What a bull…

You were there all because you wanted to be there, and wanted better for your country.

“They are closing the university!” The shout could be heard above the other voices. Suddenly the thirty of you fell silent. You focused on the man that shouted it. You knew his face, you might have seen him once or twice in the library.

“What…?”

“Chun declared universities to be dangerous to society!” The roar that follows is deafening. There is no more “inciting”, all of you immediately walk to the university, gathering other students while marching.

The road leading to the main entrance is long, which gives you a perfect view of army vehicles parked in front of it. Soldiers organizing were also visible, moving with purpose or watching you with caution.  Your group wasn’t big. Maybe two hundred souls. You weren’t sure what was the plan – but the goal was clear – to show that you wouldn’t take it lying down. They couldn’t take it all. Freedom, Kim Daejung, universities.

You weren’t sure who threw the first stone. It was all a blur. There was shouting, screams and orders, flying stones and falling batons. The students’ group dispersed only to form back, and to scatter once more but this time closer to the Provincial Office.

This time soldiers were wearing riot gear.

*

“You know well that I am going back out there!”

Your mother's eyes are filled with tension. The same tension pushes her lips into a thin line drawing her wrinkles out. She won’t back down, but neither will your brother and you.

“Mom, it’s what we have to do. They killed Gyeongcheol,” says Chanhwan. He is a high school senior and his goal was to get into your university.

“His poor mother,” whispers your mother as if against herself. That was something she said every time this was mentioned. Soldiers in riot gear killed Kim Gyeongcheol as he was passing by protesters. It infuriated the city and their protest was gathering momentum, but every person counted.

They needed to pay. For Gyeongcheol and for those who were killed yesterday.

What you wouldn’t tell your mother is the fact that you got guns. Yesterday you raided one of the military warehouses. It wasn’t an usual protest anymore, it was an uprising. Chanhwan told you that he heard that folks were talking about liberating Gwangju and making it into a free city. An official request for help was being drafted to be sent to the US Embassy. A country so enamored with freedom would for sure help you.

Freedom.

That’s what you longed for.

A horn outside let you know that your transport was there. Chanhwan was already out the doors, you stalled a second to grab your mother’s hand.

“Believe in us, mom. We will be back, victorious,” you said with emphasis. The world was yours to take and you wouldn’t hesitate. You run outside, not waiting for her to answer, and jump into the waiting taxi.

What an odd vehicle to be driving to a fight.

*

City was cordoned off and outside communications were cut. It didn’t scare you off. Nothing could, really.

Taxi was slowly rolling down the street, Chanhwan laying low in the driver's seat. He knew that as soon as he raised his head, he’d be dead. You knew that there were forces on the other end of the street aiming at you with their guns, hidden behind covers.

You and Chanhwan’s friend Sunwoo were slowly creeping along the car, using it as a moving shield. You could see a body that you were tasked with retrieving. You hoped the girl was alive. You all knew that not moving after being shot increased your chances of surviving if you couldn’t move on your own.

Suddenly you heard a loud bang and sounds of automatic fire.

“Run!” yelled Chanhwan and you didn’t need to be told twice. With Sunwoo you lurched forward trying to match Chanhwan’s accelerations. You kept your head low as smoke filled the street. Sunwoo was the first to reach the body.

Dead.

Boy opened back doors and together you pushed the lifeless body inside – not caring for decency you jumped inside as Sunwoo closed doors behind you. You heard him get in and Chanhwan was speeding off.

Girl’s hair smelt of flowers.

*

A helicopter was flying overhead. You’ve never would have guessed that you’d learn how to make Molotov’s cocktail. But there you were pushing a rag into a bottle. Sunwoo was in the field hospital, chances of saving his leg quite high. Which was more than could be said about many of your friends.

Casualties were high, but you weren’t ready to give up. The uprising cost the city too many lives to be so easily abandoned.

How could your government do that? You didn’t know. But you hoped for those soldiers to spend the rest of their lives knowing that they killed their own.

Chanhwan was on the other side of the street, giving you signs. You focused on him and he started slowly counting down with his fingers. As soon as you saw him countdown to zero, you threw your bottle.

There was an explosion and a sudden yell. You didn’t stay put to see the effect, you needed to escape as fast as possible. On your left you could see a group of fifteen or so students running the other way. There were fires and smoke and it could be hard to realize what was happening.

You lost your footing as you realized that Chanhwan was not running parallel to you. It seemed like eternity as you looked back to see him lying on the corner of the street. You could see his dark uniform jacket slowly dampening with even darker liquid.

It wasn’t conscious. Nor your scream, nor your leap.

The first bullet going through your arm was more surprising than painful. Second one caught your leg, tripping you down, the third one pierced through your clavicle as you fell. You saw smoke, and soldiers moving forward with riot shields, and your brother laying on the street, and an abandoned taxi. You saw another group of students running somewhere to your right.

Pavement was hot from the sun as you fell down. It didn’t hurt, or maybe it was so painful that you couldn’t feel it.

You saw a blue butterfly flying away.

***

Kim Shin forced his way into the fighting city. Through fields and through the army, he walked into the fray. No one knew. A village ten kilometers away? No one knew what was happening in the city. There were rumors, but not one could have prepared him for the riots he saw.

He saw students organizing, he saw local militias forming, he saw field hospitals being erected, he saw taxi and bus drivers using their vehicles to help the cause.

Had he done everything he could? No. Was it resignation? Maybe.

How many times had he seen her fighting? Why every time he saw her she was either suffering or leading a good fight. Why was she always selfless, and always right in the center of a turmoil ailing his nation. Just once couldn’t she be selfish and live?

Seeing her protest against authoritarian government barely half a century after she did the same against occupation filled him with unfamiliar annoyance. Rage. Why her. What did she do to be always reincarnated into such circumstances.

Was it even worth pursuing her?

Was it his atonement for not killing his king eons ago, even when she sacrificed herself. Was she destined to be laying her life for a cause while he watched her do it?

Defiance. That was what stopped him from acting. He could have gone on a rampage. Just like when he was a general, fighting with Gaya’s warriors. It wouldn’t have been hard, decimating troops. Those already stationed in the city, and those that would undoubtedly come to reinforce them.

He felt old. He was old. Looking at the fighting city he felt like it wasn’t his fight.

In the city he saw a foreigner. A foreigner with a camera. Documenting what was happening, what atrocities were committed on Gwangju’s streets.

Instead of watching her die once again he decided to protect the foreigner. To make sure that his recordings would be seen by the world.

As Kim Shin protected the foreigner, he didn’t realize that he could no longer hear prayers.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Tainted Apollo

Pairing: Kars x Reader

Warnings: mentions of gore, death of minor characters, slight allusion to dubcon.

Words: 3056.

Summary: Finding a peculiar sculpture in the ruins of an ancient temple, you realize you have stumbled upon a god set in stone.

P.S. I forgot to post this one here haha

____________

"Good morning, Sire." You welcomed him as you stretched in your improvised bed, an old metal container of some kind with a pile of blankets on top of it.

Rubbing your sleepy eyes, you slowly put your feet on the floor and adjusted the hem of your nightgown so he wouldn't see too much of your flesh. Kars always found this habit of yours ridiculous. He had been a piece of stone for God knew how long, and even after you found him he'd been confined to bed for no less than a year, barely moving and unable to speak. Kars was sure you didn't even understand what he was, but you still cared about covering your body in front of him. What a pathetic habit, he thought.

When you found him in the sands, somewhere in what appeared to be a long abandoned temple that had been in ruins even before he reached the Earth, you first thought he was some kind of sculpture, adoring his unusual but captivating form. He hated you watching him with your eyes wide, even touching a lock of his petrified hair - you were just a mortal human woman, one of those he had been determined to wipe out, but you had the audacity to act like his sole purpose was to lay in the sand for your entertainment. If he could move, he would definitely end your pathetic like there and then. But Kars couldn't.

It must have been ages, if not a millennium, since he had been banished from Earth. Drifting through darkness, his body had turned to stone, his limbs losing their ability to move - regardless of him finally becoming an ultimate form of life, it brought him nothing but eternal suffering and oblivion. Kars had stopped functioning like a living being almost completely. Almost. If he hadn't been returned back to Earth by some accident, he would continue his meaningless journey to the stars till the end of times because the darkness enveloping him had no limits. It felt like being thrown into a cold throat of some gigantic monstrous creature, but instead of reaching its stomach and finally dying he had been forced to circulate somewhere in between, neither dead nor alive. If silly humans thought the Hell was real, it had to be it.

He couldn't remember what force sent him back to Earth as he could think of no one doing it intentionally, but it didn't matter as long as he could reach Earth. Regardless of what would happen after, Kars knew he would survive and regain his power, finally giving humanity what it deserved for what they had done to him.

Funny, but when his mind had awoken from hibernation, Kars realized there was no one to take revenge on. Humanity had successfully wiped itself out.

Even after year and a half that passed, he still saw just you, a girl who had brought his petrified form to her home to take care of him knowing he was alive - by the time you met him Kars was able to open his eyes. Oh, he remembered well how horrified you were, stumbling upon an immensely beautiful statue that turned out to be a stone god, he heard you saying that for a few times. That day you ran away with such an expression Kars didn't expect you to ever come back, although you showed up a couple of days after, trying to talk to him in that odd new human language he had never heard before. As he kept silent, unable to even move his lips and make a sound, you realized the god you stared upon had been trapped in stone, and you could do nothing to free him. You went away, but came back with an odd machine that reminded him of Stroheim, and Kars thought of melting your bones when you dared to use to transport him. However, he had to admit how further did human technology evolved when even a small and timidly-looking machine like yours could lift and transport him to your home, a place inside another machine that had been definitely used for military purposes before being abandoned. It looked incredibly pathetic, as if you were a little rat that had to live in a pile of garbage out of pure need.

The world he once knew and wished to conquer had disappeared. All he saw while being driven away by your small machine had been a never-ending desert and ruins of other machines: he learnt lately those were enormous satellites, star ships, and other rusting remnants of an epoch that had been long gone. Watching gigantic sand stingrays crossing the desert as if it were a sea made him realize how far humans had gone - they had created monsters that were never meant to exist in the first place.

Of course, they paid for it. Judging from the stories you told him and what he observed himself, humanity had faced almost complete annihilation even without intervention of their outer space enemies, if there were any. The atomic war destroyed nearly everything humans had been creating since the beginning of their era. It affected even the natural course of life of every living being on Earth, forcing them to change and finally become a horrifying, mutilated, monstrous life form of something they had been once. Even the Moon had been gone, it's ugly half-destroyed form shining in the night sky and making it even more revolting. You had said something about unsuccessful colonization and the war over moon territories while Kars had to force himself to look down on the sand that was at least familiar to him.

Disgusting. He still had hard time believing how far humans had gone, destroying everything that existed long before they started ruling the planet. What would Jojo say now if he saw what a nightmare the world had become? Wasn't it better to let Kars wipe out the humanity before this had happened?

He had been fighting the urge to break your spine or melt your insides at least for a couple of months, blaming you for the crimes of your ancestors despite you obviously being too young to commit any of the atrocities that had happened. How come a human being had the audacity to survive in this post-Apocalyptic world while other life forms had mutated into monsters? When you were wiping any impurities off his cold stony skin, he was dreaming of the time when his body would come out of this odd hibernation period he couldn't control and then murder you in some rather painful way, prolonging your death till you felt all kinds of despair a human like you could. As he struggled to move even his fingers, he had finally decided not to harm an only being capable of taking care of him.

Each day you brought him to sunlight so he could observe what was outside of your pathetic shelter while you worked to grow anything in this lifeless place, several times a week departing to some place to fill the ugly rusted water tank, then watering your plants in a some kind of a nicely equipped greenhouse - funny, now you used it to protect the plants from the intense heat rather than trap it inside. Fruits and vegetables were what your diet was based on, including some synthetic supplements Kars refused to consume, disgusted by something made purely by humankind. Sometimes you would bring him fried meat, and while the thought of eating a mutilated animal had been revolting to him, Kars knew you could offer him nothing else. Even the meat you brought you offered only to him, rarely taking a piece for yourself: now it must have been a great privilege to consume meat. Besides, it truly sustained him better than fruits or vegetables, and he was dependent on what you were feeding him, slowly getting his strength back. After a year and a half he was now able to move his lips and fingertips, making you nearly ecstatic: it seemed you were doing everything right.

What did you think he was? A deity? A monster? A machine? Probably an immortal being who had existed long before the annihilation, that's what you said: you were talking to him from time to time either to pay your respects, tell him more about your world you thought he knew nothing about or voice what you were going to do right the next moment. One day as you brought several rectangular plates made with what looked like a blue metal to him, you read Kars about ancient Greek gods, wondering if he had been one of them - you saw him melting food with his skin, and for you it was the inherent symbol of his divinity. Kars had to give you some credit: you weren't as stupid he first thought you were. You weren't worshipping him as much as he deserved, but you probably did the best you could do, just a little desert rat having nothing but her plants and a decaying metal house.

"I won't come back till the sunset." You said once you finished washing your face and brushing your hair, tucking them under a faded scarf out of some light fabric and then reaching out to grab your mask. "I'll try being quick, Sire, but it's important I visit that place. If I'm lucky, I might bring something very useful to you."

Useful to him, huh? He would appreciate if you stopped humoring yourself: there was nothing useful you could bring him aside from a dozen people to devour. While he knew there were some people left on Earth still, he also knew you wouldn't master the strength to capture, less sacrifice them to him. Besides, Kars was still deciding whether it was worth devouring those creatures. While it certainly would make him return his powers faster, he could wait a couple of centuries - Kars doubted remaining humans could do something worse to Earth than what had already been done.

You didn't return after the sunset that day. It was the first time you hadn't keep your promise to him, and it made ill-tempered Kars bitter: oh, he would remember it and make sure you remembered it, too. He spent the night thinking what he was going to do to you, albeit not getting too violent in his thoughts. Something probably happened on your way, and you had to stop and spend the night in the desert before coming back.

The next day you didn't return either. He waited for you till the sunset but heard nothing but the sound of sand stingrays travelling to the other part of the desert. The complete silence troubled Kars more than he was able to admit: you had been somewhere around most of the time, taking to him or making some other irritating noise. While he found you just one more annoying creature inferior to him, your absence had a strange effect on Kars - it felt like something was crawling beneath his stony skin, making it harder to keep calm despite the fact the man had always been patient, unaffected by something so unworthy of his attention. However, your absence was a clear sign that something had happened, and it somehow bothered him.

Were you attacked by the monstrous creatures roaming the earth? Humans? Some other force he knew nothing about? Surely, it had something to do with the thing you attempted to bring, but you were vague about its nature, and Kars doubted it was really something decent. How come you had the audacity to risk your life when you were his one and only follower, sustaining and taking care of him while he was still in hibernation? Were you so unbearably stupid you decided you could leave him alone for long? Who had given you the right to bother Kars with your absence? It was inexcusable. The only reason why he didn't punish you was his petrified body, but he wouldn't stay in such state forever.

The lack of your presence was becoming more and more disturbing, and Kars questioned himself why did it matter. He had never needed someone's company - even though he had respect for both Esidisi and Wamuu, their closeness to him wasn't something essential. Not that your presence was either... and yet he found himself constantly thinking about the reasons why you were late. Although it irritated him, Kars decided that time he spent into space had its effects on his mind.

When you returned at last, the sun had already disappeared over the horizon. You were bleeding - he saw crimson stains on your face and your left arm, your faded scarf absent when you stormed inside your house, a small metal container in your hand as you flew to your stone god. Something had gone terribly wrong.

"I'm sorry, Apollo." You were running out of breath, but Kars heard you calling him by a Greek god's name. Was it the god of light? Your choice was rather peculiar. You were probably calling him like this in your mind since you brought those books home, but was afraid to voice your thoughts to him. "I wasn't as prepared I thought I was. The guards are still there even after all these years."

Leaving the container on the floor close to him, you took your bag and started your things there, searching for food and flasks. Somebody had been following you to your hideout.

"This is all I could find." You whispered, opening the container and taking out a small glass vial with a bright red liquid inside. "I can't tell how it will affect you, but I believe it would be of use to you, Apollo. Please, consume it."

You had carefully lifted the vial as if it were going to explode and then put it on his chest, awaiting for Kars to melt it onto his body. He had been suspicious about this, for some reason unable to detect what the liquid was as the vial seemed to block it, he consumed it, nonetheless - there was a chance it could speed up the end of his hibernation.

And it did. He felt the familiar heat, albeit Kars had never thought the stone could be turned into liquid, and yet it was it, something he had been chasing for so long once before becoming who Kars was now. How come it had been somewhere here all along? Was it fate to land here where it had all ended for him once? Kars had no answers. Not that it mattered now as his petrified body was rapidly recovering, his limbs finally able to move, his dark locks softening, the paralysis shattering while he stood up, showing you his perfect form in all its glory as you stared at him, either afraid or unable to move. He was the God you were waiting for, his large wings turning into flesh hands, a halo of light surrounding his perfectly proportioned, sculptured body and making you lose your eyesight for a couple of seconds. It happened so suddenly you were trembling on your knees in front of him, forgetting about those who had trailed you and the danger they could bring to your God and you, both fear and admiration engraved into your stare. Kars was much more than you had pictured him to be, undoubtedly.

As much as he enjoyed that look on your face, devouring your fragile figure with his eyes, he could feel his enemies breathing down his neck. Of course, all of them were unworthy of seeing his true power, but even someone as miserable as them would do for a quick warm up after centuries of hibernation: once several disgustingly looking men with scars and mutilated limbs showed up in your hideout, all of them Ripple users just like Jojo had been, Kars let out a laugh, watching them demanding both him and you to surrender. Worthless little creatures, they thought they could give orders to him, the most perfect form of life on Earth. He had slashed all of them the next moment, pools of their blood dirtying the floor and spreading further to metal walls: apparently, despite them still being able to use Ripple, their power had deteriorated greatly to the point they only posed a threat to a fellow human being, someone as frail and delicate as you.

Turning to face you still on your knees, he saw your wide eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks while you covered your mouth with your hands: was your God more terrifying than you had imagined him to be? Did you think he would forgive those who made a mistake of challenging him, the most powerful being the Earth had ever hold? Silly little girl, there were so many things you had to learn about him, the God you were destined to worship and love with your whole being.

"Stand up, woman." He said, watching you tremble and trying to wipe away your tears, not knowing what you had to say to the God you finally saw in all his glory. "I demand you to leave with me before the sun rises. Gather whatever belongings you need for a long journey, we will depart soon."

You bowed to him deeply, afraid to open your mouth and say something your God would consider inappropriate, and hurried to take your bag, quickly putting everything you considered important in it while Kars stepped closer to the pathetic beings, consuming what was left of them and feeling the power coursing through his body, filling him with warmth he had craved for so long. That little vial you brought was truly worthy of him, and Kars felt satisfied it was you who found him in the sands in the middle of nowhere. He would take you with him while he would try to resurrect the Earth as he remembered it, bringing the balance to it and watching it flourish once again.

"Apollo, I have taken everything." You whispered to him timidly, forgetting you were using that fictional name you gave him.

Kars chuckled, marching through your hideout flooded with blood of his enemies. If you needed to compare him to some stupid Greek god so desperately, you should have chosen Hades.

[graciousheaven]

HOW SHOULD WE RESPOND TO GOD’S GRACE

“God’s grace rules by means of righteousness, leading us to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Romans 5:21)

The Lord blesses those who obey his commands, but as a judgement to punish any disobedience, curse falls on anyone who breaks God’s commandments.

As a righteous God, the Lord punishes those who do evil, those who do not obey his commands.

We and our ancestors have never obeyed the Lord’s commands; we have broken them all.

No human being therefore can boast of being righteous before God.

For we were all conceived in sin, and in sin we live – we are all sinners.

As the scripture says, we all have sinned and fall short of the glory of the Lord.

Therefore, for God’s justice to be satisfied, the reward for our disobedience should be curse, which results in death.

But the price for our disobedience was paid for us in full on Calvary by Christ: He died on the cross to pay for our sins, although He had no sin.

The full wrath of God the Father was cast down on Him in order to set us free from our penalties.

Christ is the Saviour of the entire human race, for all the curses brought about by our disobedience were cast upon Him.

Thanks to Christ God’s justice was satisfied and human race is now reconciled with God.

The blood of Christ has cleansed us of all our sins and we now stand spotless before God.

Christ has clothed us with his own righteousness and all believers have been legally justified before God.

“He has brought us by faith into this experience of God’s grace, in which we now live”, as the Apostle Paul points it out in Romans 5:2.

Sins no longer have a hold on us; we are no longer separated from God’s glory.

 We used to be sons and daughters of disobedience, but in his abundant mercy and grace God has called us to be his children.

As the Apostle John highlights it in verse 16 of the first chapter, “Out of the fullness of his grace He has blessed us all, giving us one blessing after another. God gave the Law through Moses, but grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.”

By the blood of Christ our Lord and Saviour, we have been put right with God, by grace through faith.

Christ our Lord has redeemed us and established us in God’s grace.

It is this grace that sustains our life, it is this grace that keeps us in God’s glory.

It is by the free gift of God’s grace that we have been put right with Him through Christ Jesus, who set us free. (Romans 3:24)

And so no human being should think that they are good enough to deserve anything good from God.

We should instead be infinitely grateful for the abundant grace we receive every single moment of our lives from the Lord our God – what He does to us and for us is neither a reward for us being good, nor because we love Him.

There is nothing good in us: human heart is full of wickedness and evil.

“As the Scriptures say: ‘There is no one who is righteous, no one who is wise or who worships God. All have turned away from God; they have all gone wrong; no one does what is right, not even one. Their words are full of deadly deceit; wicked lies roll off their tongues and dangerous threats, like snake’s poison, from their lips; their speech is filled with bitter curses. They are quick to hurt and kill; they leave ruin and destruction wherever they go. They have not known the path of peace, nor have they learnt reverence for God.” (Romans 3:10-18)

We all have sinned against the Lord our God; none of us does what pleases Him.

But the Sovereign Lord in his love for us used the cross to cancel out our penalties.

The death of our Lord Jesus on the cross is the greatest manifestation of God’s love for humanity.

Christ’s blood is the key that opened the fountain of God’s grace, which forever maintains us into God’s glory.

It is the seal of the new covenant that brings God’s grace into our existence.

In the absence of this grace, all we deserve, as a result of our disobedience, is the wrath of God.

Because we all do what is evil, and so what we deserve is punishment for our sins, which is death.

As Psalms 9:17 tells us: “Death is the destiny of the wicked, all those who reject God.”

But what a good news we have – that day on Calvary the Lord Jesus paid it all; He suffered the full wrath of his own Father in order to bring us into his glory, by establishing us into God’s grace.

Christ’s crucifixion was done to cleanse us of our sins and his resurrection brought about the defeat of death.

The splendour of his resurrection, then, lies in the victory it brings us over death.

 Sometimes ungrateful and ungodly people in their pride like to complain how God has not been good to them.

They say things like, ‘If God really cared about me He would not have let me suffer.’

Even in your suffering you should rejoice in the Lord, and be thankful and faithful to Him.

For it is his grace that keeps you alive, it is neither your merit nor your strength.

You deserve nothing good from the Lord; all you receive from Him is a free gift.

Whatever God gives you should then be received with a thankful and rejoicing heart, because would it not be for his grace your reward would be death.

And this grace cost Him the crucifixion of his own Son; Christ suffered the fate of evil men although He knew no sin.

“Christ was without sin, but for our sake God made Him share our sin in order that in union with Him we might share the righteousness of God.” (2 Corinthians 5:21)

Human beings are nothing without God, although many people are so arrogant and perverted that they do not acknowledge his existence.

People need to understand that God is infinitely good and full of grace, and all He does is right and good.

As a matter of fact, what we receive from God is not a reward for what we have done; it is not even because we love God.

For no human being has ever loved God as He deserves to be loved, except his own Son.

The Lord commands us to love Him with all our heart, with all our mind and with all our soul.

No one has ever done it, except his Son – we are all lawbreakers, and all we receive from God is by grace alone, grace from the Lord who saved us from his own wrath by sacrificing his only Son in order to satisfy his justice.

 God owes us nothing. If He was to give any of us what we deserve it would be death – the reward for sin.

Because that is all we deserve; we have broken every God’s Command.

But his love for us abounds so much that He sent his only begotten Son to die for us, “so that everyone who believes in Him may not die but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

Christ died to save us from the wrath of God his Father and from his own wrath, for Christ the Son is God.

Without Christ no one can stand pure before the Almighty God.

Christ is the Only One who has pleaded and He continues to plead for us before his Father.

And everything good we receive from Him is simply graciously given by God; we do not deserve any of them.

We are to be thankful for the abundant and endless grace of God in our life, this grace that has been made possible by Christ alone and without which we are doomed.

All the good things we have comes from God; no one is, then, to boast about who they are nor about what they own.

In Jeremiah 9:23 “The Lord says, ‘The wise should not boast of their wisdom, nor the strong of their strength, nor the rich of their wealth. If anyone wants to boast, he should boast that he knows and understand Me, because my love is constant, and I do what is just and right.’”

Oftentimes we hear people boast about their wealth, their wisdom, their job and achievements in life.

The Lord has blessed us all with different gifts – all the good things people have are gifts from God and all the good things they achieve is by the grace of God alone. Because if the Lord does not provide us with the knowledge and skill we need, then we simply are a bunch of good for nothing.

On the other hand, many others are so bitter and ungrateful towards God, especially when they do not have what their sinful heart desires.

They want to be blessed with all kinds of things to meet their carnal desires.

They blame God for not being fair with them, as if He owes them something.

People need to keep in mind that all we have, the breath of life, the skill, the knowledge and all we possess are graciously given to us by the Lord our God.

So we are to honour the Lord our God with thanksgiving praises.

 If people were to receive from God what they deserve, it would be nothing but death, the reward for sin.

The grace of God through his Son Jesus Christ is what sustains our existence.

We are nothing without God’s grace which is revealed to us in the person of his Son.

As the Apostle Paul points it out in his second epistle to Timothy, God “saved us and called us to be his own people, not because of what we have done, but because of his own purpose and grace. He gave us this grace by means of Christ Jesus before the beginning of time, but now it has been revealed to us through the coming of our Saviour, Christ Jesus. He has ended the power of death and through the gospel has revealed immortal life.” (2 Timothy 1:9-10)

We should therefore express our gratitude to the Lord with thanksgiving praises and worship.

We should also take our part in the suffering of our Lord by witnessing for Him, as He has commissioned us to do.

And there is no better way to witness for our Lord than through our actions and faith.

We should seek his glory in all we do and in all we say, and our thoughts should also be pleasing to our Lord.

We owe Him everything, yet nothing to Him we bring.

And neither our praise nor our thanks can ever be enough to honour his grace – his grace for us is so abundant.

Christ is all we have: all things were created through Him and all creation will be brought back to God through Christ alone.

We need to acknowledge God and be thankful to Him for the grace He constantly lavishes upon us through his Son Jesus Christ.

There is not a day in our life where we do not sin.

But the good news is that Christ our Saviour has already paid the full price on the cross.

He paid for all our past sins and for all our present and future sins.

However, this does not mean that we should continue to live with a depraved mind and heart.

For we have been called in by Christ into the grace of his Father, and so we no longer live to please our flesh, but we live for Christ.

Sin must no longer control us, for we are new creatures in Christ; our new life is hidden with Christ in God.

 People should stop treating as a cheap thing the blood of grace that set them free.

Many people have hardened their hearts and are full of hate for Christ – they are ungrateful, they blaspheme his name and reject his teaching; they persecute his church; they alter God’s word to suit their heart desires; they worship false gods; they pervert the natural use of their sex by unnatural acts, they replace the truth with lies.

As a result of their shameful perversion “they bring upon themselves the punishment they deserve for their wrongdoing.” (Romans 1:27)

By rejecting the Lord and his teaching they also reject their share of the grace which restores us into God’s glory. For the Lord Almighty says: “I will honour those who honour Me, and I will treat with contempt those who despise Me.” (1 Samuel 2:30)

So those who treat as a cheap thing the grace of God revealed to us in the person of his Son are under God’s judgement.

Such people have brought the wrath of God upon themselves; they have been given over to their wickedness, because of their rebellion against the Almighty God.

Those are the people the Apostle Paul talks about in Romans 1. It reads: “Because those people refuse to keep in mind the true knowledge about God, He has given them over to corrupted minds, so that they do the things that they should not do. They are filled with all kinds of wickedness, evil, greed, and vice; they are full of jealousy, murder, fighting, deceit, and malice. They gossip and speak evil of one another; they are hateful to God, insolent, proud, and boastful; they think of more ways to do evil; they disobey their parents; they have no conscience; they do not keep their promises, and they show no kindness or pity for others. They know that God’s law says that people who live in this way deserve death. Yet, not only do they continue to do these very things, but they even approve of others who do them.” (Romans 1:28-32)

 We are to welcome the Lord’s teaching with a rejoicing heart, seek to please Him and live for his glory.

“God has revealed his grace for the salvation of the whole human race. That grace instructs us to give up ungodly living and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in this world, as we wait for the blessed Day we hope for, when the glory of our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ will appear. He gave himself for us, to rescue us from all wickedness and to make us a pure people who belong to Him alone and are eager to do good.” (Titus 2:11-14)

We must not continue to practice sin like those who belong to the world and who are driven by their carnal desires and passions.

We must welcome with a thankful heart the grace of God which has been revealed to us in the person of his Son.

We are to become new beings, transformed by the glorious power of the Holy Spirit.

We must be dead to sin but alive in Christ; the desires of our flesh must be put to death.

Such desires harden people’s hearts and sear their minds and they remain prisoners of their human nature.

We should honour the Lord, we should be thankful and faithful to Him – He bought us for the highest price and brought us into the grace of God the Father, not because we deserve it, but because He loves us and is merciful to us.

As the Apostle Paul points it out in his letter to God’s people in Ephesus, “God’s mercy is so abundant, and his love for us is so great, that while we were spiritually dead in our disobedience He brought us to life with Christ. It is by God’s grace that you have been saved. In our union with Christ Jesus He raised us up with Him to rule with Him in the Heavenly world. He did this to demonstrate for all time to come the extraordinary greatness of his grace in the love He showed us in Christ Jesus. For it is by God’s grace that you have been saved through faith. It is not the result of your own efforts, but God’s gift, so that no one can boast about it. God has made us what we are, and in our union with Christ Jesus He has created us for a life of good deeds, which He has already prepared for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:4-10)

 So, it is more than important for us not to lose sight of the precious gift of God’s grace.

We are to keep our eyes focused on the cross of Jesus Christ our Lord and Saviour, through whom God’s grace has been brought down to us.

Christ is all we have, the only way to eternal glory, the only fountain of God’s grace.

It is only through our faith in Christ and by God’s grace that we will be saved.

Those who act as if they deserve blessings from God instead of curse, because they think so highly of themselves will be disappointed.

The same thing will happen to those who consider themselves righteous and think that they will get to Heaven by their own efforts.

No human being can be justified before God by their own efforts and deeds.

“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”  (Romans 3:23)

God’s grace is what holds us up – we are saved by God’s grace through our faith in Christ alone.

No human being is to think highly of themselves; we are to humble ourselves and give thanks to the Lord for his grace, mercy, love, righteousness and goodness to us.

We must also keep in mind that all these glorious gifts we receive from our Heavenly Father are revealed to us only in the person of Christ, the Son of God to whom glory belongs for ever and ever. Amen.

He died so that we may live, and so those who reject the Son simultaneously reject their share of God’s grace.

Therefore they cannot inherit the Kingdom of God; instead, they fall under God’s judgement.

We are nothing without God’s grace; no one can receive salvation except by God’s grace, through faith in Christ the Saviour.

Therefore, as the Scripture says, “Let us, then, hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we have a great High Priest who has gone into the very presence of God – Jesus, the Son of God. Let us have confidence, then, and approach God’s throne, where there is grace. There we will receive mercy and find grace to help us just when we need it.” (Hebrews 4:14,16)

By this grace we have been put right with God and will come into possession of the eternal life we hope for.

[deepintoforestwego]

Is there anything behind my face?

She is born knowing three things.

First is that her skin is as white as snow, her lips as red as blood, her hair as black as ebony.

Second is that seven times seven men had died so that she should live.

Third is, she shouldn't exist.

( Harsh thing for child to know, much less from moment of her birth. And harsher yet, she is right.

Were we willing to waste time in such way, we could debate about morality,  about whether sins of parents transfer to children, about personal responsibility and knowledge men shouldn't wield, about whether you can blame her for what her beauty drives men to anymore then you can blame fire for burning those who get close- but that isn't kind of right we are talking about here.

It is a simple truth, written in bones of world, in lifeblood of universe, in skin of night and face of day- the snow shouldn't become person, because it is impossible.

But magic never cared about such things.)

She has feared her mother from very start, you see, and perhaps that is where trouble started, or mayhaps that saved her life. She knew she shouldn't be, you see, but very little else, as she was still just a newborn, and had never seen human before, though parts of her belonged to them, of course.

And queen may  have not slept in while, and was rather cold and hungry and scared, and quite dainty woman to be honest, but she had this way of holding herself that made people defer to her, and she was all wrapped up in ermine and gold velvet and pearls, and she oozed magic like an old fish oozed stench, and child could see bargain wrapping  up around two of them, and well she knew nothing of sorcery and it's limitations, so she must be forgiven for assuming this woman was deity who created her.

(Like I said, it was bad idea all from the start.)

'' My goddess. You who made me.'' Said the girl, for her mother could be clever and careful when she put her mind to it,  and had requested for girl to have knowledge befitting her age and station, because everything else would have been rather awkward for her, and more importantly bad for her mother's plans.

''Not exactly, my dear. I am a human, I am afraid.'' The queen answered, after some consideration, because  she did like being called goddess, even though she associated it more with her young lovers and her poor mother, but it would be quite strange for princess to go around talking like that, and even queen, as hungry for flattery as she was, was made uncomfortable by thought of girl meant to be her daughter worshipping her.

''My mistress. You who own me.'' Girl stated, slowly, drawing out words, her throat feeling quite funny, speaking for first time, as languages and social norms and concepts and table manners filled her head as flood fills empty house, for girl had no memories and experiences to trouble incoming information.

''Well! That was nicely put, though accent could use some work, but not befitting somebody of your station. Try again, dear.'' Said the queen, as her face settled down in an expression more befitting on a cat who just snatched a canary, and closed her eyes, her eyelids fluttering as she imagined her servants speaking in that delightfully obedient tone, so sure of their place, below her, defined by her.

‘My mother. You who gave me life.’‘ She says, still kneeling, and years later she will forget, or try to, bury it down, of how the queen's s smile grew when she heard those words, how she sat down and embraced still kneeling girl, and flinched when her warm hands touched cold, hard skin. It bruised her arms a bit, as if she had tried to hug a statue left out too long in winter's winds.

''Yes, my dear.'' Queen said, clutching her dark hair in her fingers, embracing her so hard that she almost had trouble breathing, and breathed in her daughter's smell,  harsh and sweet aroma of pitch, the comforting  freshness of newly fallen snow, the sharp smell of iron and salt.

The princess, who still didn't know what perfumes were, smelled her mother, the scent of flowers and herbs permeating her clothing, and underneath it something gross and hot (she had not yet known what sweat and soft human skin were like) and wondered why they were so different, and decided that didn't matter.

**

They arrive to place that girl nameless supposes is to be her home in quarter of hour, faster than the queen had ever journeyed before, for  magic is ever fed by passion and from the heart, and queen had been almost drunk on pride of her success, joy from what would that mean for her, from terror and euphoria girl's beauty awoke in her, and as she hadn't slept and eaten in some time, and had almost died, her emotions running high and mad, so it wouldn't be hard for her to jump over to another country.

''This is my castle.'' The mother tells her, showing her wooden ring fortress, as they stand before wooden doors of main hall, and great noise is coming from it. Were somebody to watch, they would probably think girl emotionless, the hollow heartless thing, for she shows neither fear nor wonder (well, if she wasn't so beautiful, that is, and they were able to focus on something else other than it). But truth is, she is still far too young to know about wealth and royal power, and has seen nothing but blizzard and woman she believes to be greatest sorceress in world. There is nothing yet ingrained in her to respond.

''Inside is your father, the king.'' Now this word sparks something in her, for the queen has judged it the knowledge very important, that she must learn as soon as possible. The girl knows now, that king is the most important man in world, and that if she is to be good she will be his heir and continue to make her mother proud and powerful.

She isn't sure she wants to be powerful. But mother is, and mother wants more, and mother made her so that is probably good.

She also knows what a father is. A male parent, who names you, one whom you have to respect, obey, love... but not as much as mother.

Doors open, and noise hurts but she doesn't yet know how to react. She follows mother's lead, and steps inside.

And rest of world stops for everybody else.

***

''My weregild.'' The mother coos, almost mews  as she watches seven little bodies swing on rope, their faces that awful, strange purple people call blue for some reason though it's more of grey and lilac with pinch of black and scarlet, and smile doesn't leave her face, though at one point it grows stale and uncertain.

The princess learns what brothers are only later, when she has learnt enough to recognize guilt for what it is.

She doesn't yet have name for feelings that possess her, the way her stomach churns and turns  at sight of those small, rotting bodies (she has never learnt what death was, it had been built in her from before she was an inkling of thought), swaying on wind as ravens come to feast.

Were she just a spell- child, body built and operated by magic, she would have felt nothing. She would have danced and spoke as her maker demanded. Were she a changeling, or just a creature snow and blood and ebony in truth, she would have looked with curiosity, or apathy, and noted how it was unjust, and how petty and strange humans are. And were she truly her mother's daughter, she would have said it was just, for as she had no childhood, so they should be denied to grow old.

But she was neither of those, so she learnt regret.

***

She doesn't like to think about her name. Much less discuss it. If you try to ask her about it, today, well good luck. Hope you will make it out with some teeth intact at least.

She has one name, and hundreds.  It is same name, but always so different, like light reflecting off from one snowflake, viewed from different angles.   Run away to so many countries, run for so long, and of course it is changed so many times, of course it is translated when she has such dumb name. She hates the original too, but she hates variations even more- what right do they have to change her name, to change anything about her and her damned story? And change it they do, oh yes, cutting off parts and rearranging them, calling her Snowdrop and Snow White and Snežana and Blanche-Neige and Branca de Neve and Albanix and Sneewittchen and Schneewittchen and she can't number them all, snow and whiteness everywhere...

She is well aware that her name is literal and obvious and dumb, and if you ever point it out it won't go well for you. Only once did one person ( a beautiful princess who belongs to death and dreams like her, and almost as much to flowers and briars as she belongs to snow and blood, those daughters of woods and curses), with accidental addition of too much drink, get her to talk about that, and this is what she said.

''Don't know who called me that first. I think it came from some poor bard who burst in songs about me until he died from  lack of food and sleep. Detracted from glorifying me, see. Or wait, not a bard, bard's apprentice, about twelve. Might have had some Sight within him. Or it was my father, doesn't matter.

People picked it up because it was only fitting name, see. I couldn't be saddled with normal name, I was above it- and anybody else with that name would forever think of me, and it would never feel right for them. Except that now in some countries they do use my name, or version of it as a normal name so what waste of time, right?

Anyway point is they wanted to call me by something that could properly describe me and Beautiful was far too tacky and Ebony Black weird and Blood Red is just creepy so, here we are! Cheers!

The bitch never called me anything. Just my princess, my dear, my daughter. My, my, my. Always the same shit.'' And of course, this is the lie, though one she prefers to believe.

Truth is, she forgot  it. She forgot all names, and only roles remained.

***

The queen did one true kindness to her, because anything else would have been incredibly harmful for her goals, and because she wasn't wholly bereft of morals and reason, and still it hurt.

She had made it, when she cast her spell, when she screamed her wish in reality, when she bargained, that her daughter would have mind befitting her seeming age. Because stupid daughter was useless, and better no child than one that had that kind of problems (queen was biggest supporter of leaving people who were anything less than perfect, or at least acceptable, to die in woods, whether they were loving father gone senile or caring brother whose arm had to be amputated), and because she hated associating with such people- and in her mind, whoever had limping leg or trembling hands, or who had problems with reading or remembering faces was worse than animal, for animals could be useful, and toothless dogs were to be put down.

The girl had barely settled in her new form, though she walked with grace unparalleled and strode with pride and strength only queen herself could outshine, when she began changing and growing. She didn't know how to feel about that, as she wasn't normal girl, and already half way past through puberty, and nobody would ever tease her, or think her anything less but most beautiful creature they had ever seen.

(Creature. A step up from thing.)

Still, it felt strange, and uncomfortable, and very wicked to have her change and grow before she had truly had chance to enjoy her girlhood. The queen, who was very clever, and knew how to nurse man from brink of death as well as she knew how to craft a drink to paralyze an ox for six hours, explained her how everything about her body worked, and how those changes were completely natural, and how she would soon grow taller and how her face would get slimmer and more mature. In fact, she was growing up at same pace as most girls did, and that delighted queen greatly, for woman grown was an enemy, and eternally young girl was useless, and not to mention  a great annoyance.

(That was part of why she waited so long, until she was ready to cast her spell. It took time to find information, and to convince everybody she had lost her reason, but she wanted to put it off as far as possible, because raising child was such dull and taxing affair, and she really didn't need additional source of wrinkles.)

The princess had never woken up her parents and nurses in middle of night with her incessant crying. She had never fallen and scraped her knee and broken in hysterics. She had never climbed tree. She had never played ball. She had never been carried in her father's arms. She had never been told bedtime stories. She had never learned to read, or been tutored in counting. Her mother had never explained to her how to comb her hair. She had never had it explained to her how children are born, nor what marriage was. She had never muddied her dress. She had never played with kittens.

(She had never needed to  have dying explained to her.)

She wasn't naive (spell-girls built by men often were, inexperience and weakness and dependence of child in an adult body, but her mother had grander, more arrogant fantasies, though no less sick), she wasn't stupid, she wasn't lost. She had grown, and adapted to her world, and soon all things she missed, all knowledge and experience she wasn't born with, granted by magic, became part of her.

But lacuna where her childhood should have been remained, raw and gaping, as if somebody had pulled out all her teeth before she had chance to bite a crust of bread.

***

She learns at her mother's knee.

She learns from her father, of course, because she is made the heir, and she learns history and geography  and riding and politics and swordfighting and wielding axe, but it doesn't matter that much. Her father is a pale figure in her life, and ordinary man trembling before her, dead when she is three, and her mother walks through world as if she is above it, and hemlock and lily-of-the-valley grow behind her.

There was much to learn at the queen's feet, even things no child should learn, even things queen never intended to teach her. Part of it was that such were times- in those days castles were small and wooden, and courts less formal and complicated, and queens themselves worked, mending clothes and pulling their weight. It could have lessened them, made them normal women in eyes of their subjects, but her mother knew how to wrap dignity and mystery around herself. She knew how to make people kneel.

Her mother taught her domestic arts, of course. She was good, dutiful wife, and more over not sort of woman who shrank away from her duty and hard work. But more important, she taught her daughter, though girl could never be sure whether by accident or intent, how to look beautiful when doing it, how to look powerful as she spun thread, exalted as she made her own bed. When queen mended her husband's head, he lowered his head and reverently expressed his gratitude.

She taught her spellcraft, by observance at least.  It was power that queen couldn't truly have shared with her even if she wanted (and she would have rather sheared her own hair than given up one of her secrets). Her mother was skilled, learned mage, if not particularly powerful by talent alone. She drew her power from gems, herbs, potions, from rings that turned you invisible, cloaks that allowed you to fly, seven mile boots.

Snow White had leanings of witch, it seemed. Hers was power of rituals and motions, of rites and ceremonies, of dances under harvest moon that changed fate of kings, of hair ribbons cut by seven grandmothers over mountain river on which mill was built to make friendship sour...  or she would have, had she ever been taught. But she had been made heir, and there was much to learn, and being witch or priestess wouldn't have been good for her (pity, she would have made a good völva, she was pretty sure). She did pick up few things, though, but it was unavoidable.

Blood and mirrors, all she learnt.

***

She wondered what it was that made her beautiful.

Her skin? Her skin, so white that it blinded, white as snow that covered ground swiftly after the last harvests, like snow in which travellers  met their demise, like snow that stopped wars. Her skin, which was always smooth and tight and hard, like marble, whose touch was always cool, which didn't grow blue even when she stood wet on roof during whole winter night, which always carried chill of a dead man in itself, even during midsummer.

Her lips? Her lips, with their perfect shape, and their full colour, which never paled or chapped, as if they were painted on, colour of blood seeping from fresh venison,  colour of blood gushing from child's cut arteries, lips that tasted of iron and salt and minced flesh, that left bruises on cheeks they kissed, which could withstand warmth of broth just pulled from hearth (though she despised heat to such amount that she felt uneasy to spend more than few hours in room in which fireplace was lit).

Her hair?  Her hair, so long and wild,  spreading out like crown of ancient tree, slipping down below her waist, and yet somehow it  never got tangled up in world around it, slipping like snake through all obstacles, black as ebony, as handles of spears that pierced children, as frames of windows that kept out wind and rain.  Left and right it reached, like shadow of branches, like hands of bogeys, and never it got tangled, never did it get torn or weak.

Some said that when she had been growing up, that she had never had to suffer zits, or growth spurts, or ungainly limbs, that she had simply slipped in perfect ladylike adulthood. Others yet said that she suffered all indignities of childhood, of being teenager, and yet she was most beautiful of them all.

She wondered what it was that made people beautiful. There was woman with most stunning purple eyes, like lilac blossoms, like dusk sky, and people agreed she was very beautiful, but were disgusted by sight of her shoulders, filled with  short, fat, coarse black hairs. There was tall man, very strong and muscled, in way that would have drawn him much attention, were it not for his crooked yellow teeth, dull chin and broken nose.  There were children who had cutest, sweetest faces, with shining eyes and soft lips, who walked with bent backs and reedy fingers. It seemed all very much strange and whimsical and cruel to her, and very much useless and foolish.

She was beautiful.  No, she was fair. Were she malnourished and her face slashed and mutilated, were she turned in beast, in worm or featherless bird (those two were equally dreary things, in her mother's opinion) still she would have been the best of them.  When she came to doors, though they were closed, inside men waited and stopped breathing, awaiting her. They trailed after her, excited to earn her favour. Still she was a girl, and magic inside her was settling, so she wasn't fairest in the world, but one day wars would be waged for her, because of her, in her name. One day, when she had grown bitter and harsh and so much angrier, at gaze of her people would prostate themselves, and shake from being in same room with her, and they would not sleep, memories muddled and drunk, and in dreams they would swear to her again and again, for fear and love would mingle in one.

Her mother was beautiful, and sorceress, and she had killed and fucked and loved,  and she had much gold, and she could make fields prosper and cows miscarry with her spells, and men dreaded her, and respected her, and loved her. Her grandmother called her Freyja made human, and paid for it.

Snow White had been called goddess, and valkyrie, and many more things. And she may have possessed spark of that true, primordial beauty, but she was mortal still. Gods were born and could die but not like men. Snow White breathed, and slept, and she could cut herself, and she could get lost, and she had thrown tantrums before, and were you to cut her throat she would die. She was not a goddess, to rule over skies and dead, at best she was an image, a shadow, a mask,  shallow surface layer of divine beauty, not enough to charm stars in kneeling before her, but heavy enough that it crushed her.

(When she was young, she saw her mother's mirror once. It's frame was twisted and strained thing, contorted in ways that were hard to look at, like a  dying snake experiencing a seizure. The glass was colour of frozen mercury, and reflection in it wasn't opposite of reality, and sometimes it churned and twisted, making little waves, and always it whispered.

Most people stayed away from it, and even the queen couldn't bear to be too long in room with it, but the princess was drawn to it, like iron to magnet.

''Oh. You are like me.'' Whispered the mirror, in toneless voice that echoed in her head, and it pulsed like heart, and writhed  like worms in waves, and sighed as she put her cold fingers over it's surface, neither chill nor warm.)

***

It was easy to become a king, she learnt. You had to be born a prince, or earn king's favour, or lie to enough people so they would bow to you, or kill enough of them, preferably previous king too. All in all, it seemed very stupid and unfair to Snow White, who didn't really get why people needed kings, but said nothing because she knew what was appropriate, and because she was raised to inherit kingdom and didn't really think of how unjust it was outside of random musings.

It wasn't easy to become a queen, no matter what some thought and said. Any woman could be married to king, depending on how picky he was, and how much politics demanded from him, and how much he disrespected her rights. But only few became queens, true rulers, because they were taught not to seek respect and power, because they were beaten back, because game was set against them, because they were declawed and defanged and chained since earliest age, because they were taught to find pride and comfort in being silenced and starved. It took certain rare amount of cleverness and stubbornness and dedication, and, perhaps, ruthlessness, to become queen.

But Snow White didn't have to worry about that. Her mother loved her, and worked hard to ensure that her daughter would never have to go through all the trouble and misery she had to dredge through, and still she would get so much more. It was so hard for her poor mother, after all, to stand and suggest her idea to the king as he was busy being enraptured by his daughter.

How could he refuse her? How could he name anybody else but his most incredible daughter as his heir (the queen gritted her teeth), how could he dishonour her by not offering her everything he had? And would not people rebel if anybody else ruled them, would not enemies beg to be stricken down by her? So he thought, and declared, and people were outraged and shocked until they had seen her, and then ambassadors returned to their kings weeping, telling them they have been become traitors, for never could their hearts belong to anybody but queen Snow White.

Thus, thought it was expected that she would be married, for that is what normal people did, and beauty didn't prevent people from grumbling when they weren't near her, there was never  much pressure for that, and everybody understood that no man would be worthy of her, and all would be blessed to have her as bride, and they would only be consorts, never kings.

It was taken for granted that there would be no problem finding suitors for her, aside from possibly having to deal with wars that rejected suitors would bring to their footsteps ( something that would easily be dealt with, not only because the king was good warrior, and the queen  even better sorceress, but because any invader would have to carve their path through whole nation of berserkers ready to die for their princess, and even more ready to tear apart any who would dare to try to steal her away). It was also taken for granted that king would have to pay no dowry, and that indeed princes would be ones  bleeding their people dry in hopes of winning her over.

As was only proper, the queen had been one to choose her son-in-law, for the princess had asked her so, for her mother had assured her countless times of how much she cared, how smart she was, and how much more experienced, and she would be able to choose only the best for her dear daughter, a man whose kingdom would always provide for her, a man who would be her age and always kind to her, for those were hefty favours to ask in marriage, her mother told her. Kind husband was something you had to earn, as the queen did, but since she was such kind mother and her daughter so special, she would get all the spoils without any work.

And truly, the queen chose well. Prince was the same (apparent) age as Snow White, and he was sole heir of nearby kingdom, richer and greater than one  her father ruled (so greater that only thing that kept it from swallowing up their home, aside from their king's courtesy, was the queen, who knew all plans and desires of their neighbours, and could hold off the harvest and spring for years). He was said to be canny but honest, and rather good with sword and bow but pleasant, never one to seek out bloodshed. He was honourable and fair, and though well liked by ladies, hadn't dishonoured even one.

It sounded like bullshit to her, to be honest. Even her father, who was fair and wise, had his moments- he loved brawl, especially when he broke somebody's bones. And Snow White, well, she kept herself away from people, and never harmed anybody (but never helped out either), and still she had cruelty built in down to smallest piece of herself. Still, there were no whispers, no juicy gossip, and mirror found nothing unsatisfying and dangerous about him (for her mother would never lend her greatest treasure to somebody who would damage it), and so it was that Snow White was to be engaged.

The princess had met his parents, once or twice, for they sometimes rode out near borders of her country, and she had scried them, once she learnt where she was to be wed, in bronze mirror she had and rarely used for anything else. The king was thin, wiry man, with wild graying beard and wry voice, covered in pale old scars, and missing few teeth, and otherwise utterly unremarkable. His wife, a merchant's daughter they said he married for love, was short and warm woman, as sweet  and well beloved as fat, greased meal in late autumn, with face as round as apple and eyes like chestnuts, or so flatterers said.

The prince was very handsome, they said. He was of fine face and figure, strong and healthy, with teeth that were nearly white, and warm eyes like amber, with flickers of gold inside it. His skin was of warm, ruddy tone, and he moved with energetic, dangerous strength and grace, as if he had fire inside himself. With his auburn hair, like wood in fall, and his clothes, all gold and russet, he was said to be as beautiful as sunrise.

He wasn't, and she envied him for that. She envied them all, him for his ordinary beauty, his mother for her soft, sweet features, his father for being unremarkable and gray.

( Snow White was a human girl, and so she was often prey to all misfortunes that plagued them, even teen woes. But as wrapped up in magic and mystery as she was, even that had to be unusual.

Truth is, Snow White is envious of everybody. There isn't a single face, single body she doesn't desire more than hers. She desires form that some would find boring, nothing special, perhaps even funny or repulsive.  She envies her mother's fallen rival, her father's former lady, her brother's mother, for she is famous for her eyes as blue as sea, but princess finds neither salt nor waves nor fishes nor thousand shades and forms of water in them. She envies the cook's apprentice, for though she is known as very attractive woman, and it brings her trouble occasionally, she can talk to her brothers without them shaking with glee as they look at her. She envies her prince's mother, who is loved and respected for reasons that have nothing to do with beauty.

She has had her fair share of crushes, never acted on because they weren't appropriate for somebody of her status, because her mother wouldn't be satisfied with her choice, because they couldn't stop drooling when she passed. And so they all died, candle flames extinguished before they were anything more than a spark, leaving her to choke on guilt and longing and bitterness, to suffocate in impossible, petty desires.

She had never desired anybody because of their looks. She couldn't, because she had never been able to perceive beauty in people, because she had herself to rate them against. She looked at finest examples of human beauty and found thousand flaws, looked at them and saw how artificial it was, how dependent on right time and place and taste. Snow White could be skinned alive and have her bones broken and her head split open  and covered in dirt and yet anywhere in world they would proclaim her the most beautiful.

But she couldn't be loved or desired. She was too stark and sharp and terrible for that. She wasn't a girl whose hand you could hold, woman who you could lay against, a person to hug and kiss and laugh with. Everything in her was hard and cold, like ice sculpture. She was there to be looked at, not loved. Because even as humans adored beautiful people, they didn't love ones who had truly been beautiful.

Human beauty was shallow, false and thin. All humans were equally beautiful, and they just had to work more or less on convincing others to find them attractive. But Snow White bore true beauty, heavy as mountain, truer than her father's blade. Primordial, essential, actual, her beauty was a true, divine thing, real and defined in mutable, shapeless world of human misconceptions. She was a marble statue trapped among embroidered caricatures, and she envied them so much.)

So she held no hopes, and received a grand surprise. For though her prince's eyes seemed ready to fall out of his skull, and bliss sparkled in them as tears gathered on edges, after some time he composed himself and gave her warm, cocky smile, and bowed and kissed her hand and talked with her.

They talked. They rode on horses. He laughed at her embroidery. She rolled eyes at his jokes. They showed each other their favourite hiding places. They sparred with hands and swords. He lost to her in race and she in archery. They walked in woods and put their knowledge of animals and herbs to trial. She learnt that he was truly as good and honest as he was rumoured to be, but easily bored, and he could get lost daydreaming, and loved to go sight seeing, and fussed too much about his clothes. He learnt that she liked to forage berries, and kept falcons, and hated jewellery, and was horrible dancer. They had even argued few times!

She fell in love with him, a little. Enough that they kept contact when she ran away. Enough that he wanted to expose queen's crimes. Enough that he wanted to give her honour of burial. Enough that when he died, she walked away.

Enough that he said nothing, when she commissioned shoes for her mother.

('' I wish he'd at least pretend to treat me like person.'' She had whispered, standing alone in his father's corridors, and when she met him she believed he was somehow immune to her beauty , that he saw person underneath.

''Stop with that!'' She shouted, when men offered her their hearts, and they did, and only later she noticed that some people adored her in quiet, steadfast way, no less terrible but much subtler, because they didn't want to die for her, they wanted to serve her.

''I love you.'' She told him, and of course he said yes, of course he loved her, he had to, even as he laid dying, and years later she kept wondering whether she imagined something russet and golden running at end of corridors.)

***

When she is queen, she will keep her chambers  bare.

Everything about her will be bare, and simple, and cold. They will say, her husband’s people, when they are far away from her, that it is because she comes from colder, humbler, more barbarian kingdom that she is unused to fine luxury (she likes simple things because she spent so much time in the woods, they say, not understanding how rich, how elaborate, how beautiful everything was there, roots  mingling and binding each other in knotwork, impossible shapes in bark, flowers worth more than jewels everywhere around her.)

There will be no excess, no luxury in her sanctuary. No tapestries, no costly furniture, no mirrors. Only bare, chill stone and bed to uphold a minor illusion of normalcy ( a girl of ice and death born, she has slept on Forest floor, and dreamed in mines, and slumbered in coffin of glass and gold). No satin, no velvet, no silk, no gowns or embroidery or crown, for she has no need of them.

No jewellry. Nobody will again tell her she is as precious as gems at her throat.

***

She doesn't dream. She remembers. She remembers memories that are not hers, lodged in between her flesh and bones.

She remembers winter. Always, always it is with her, more crucial than breath, than her name, almost as important as her beauty.  She remembers cold of Niflheimr and of coming of first spring. She remembers snowflakes forming in clouds and melting on human faces, the mountain tips lined with white, the ice covering pines, the frost on abandoned blades, the  rime that gathers at hem of lost shawls, the chill creeping over river's stones, the snowdrops rising from forming poodles, the  crunch of frozen ground as her mother goes to border of Forest.

She remembers having bark, which protected her from rain, and wind, from cold and bugs. She remembers having roots, digging through soil, pulling water and minerals from ground, reaching out to taste sunlight. She remembers how it felt when sap coursed through her, her branches swaying on wind, her leaves remaining green even in winter as those of her neighbours turned brown and red and fell, remembers feeding on rotting flowers and grass caressing her trunk, the seeds falling and spreading, birds making nest in her crown, the queen's knife cutting branches off, off, off.

She remembers being warm, and flowing, being inside the veins. She remembers being child crying for parents lost to plague, the leper cast out of town, the old woman begging for scraps. She remembers warm, concerned voices of mothers who aren't hers, remembers being father, and having gray hair, and being hungry, and told she is ugly (in waking world she cannot imagine that feeling bad, but in dream it is, remembers childhoods that  aren't hers. She remembers being scared of bleeding, being cold, and queen  saving her/him/them, of being servants and obeying all her wishes, being trusted, and she remembers the blade, the curse, flowing over figure made out of snow until it turns pink, staining  and clotting upon ebony talismans.

She dreams of hands upon her throat, and dying, and melting, losing everything, going to no hall, rejoining earth and water and coldness, and it is so peaceful that she almost regrets when she wakes up...

These are terrors that follow her in her dreams. In waking world, she cannot escape seven boys, running after her like most loyal dogs, begging to serve her.

***

At edge of every kingdom there is Forest.

There is difference between  a forest and the Forest, just as there is difference between beautiful person and Snow White. The first is just bunch of trees and animals, which, perhaps bit scary at night, can be cut down and cleared away. But the Forests, are so much more, existing outside of civilized world, thinking and feeling and hungering, holding darkness and treasures and monsters within. Place where secrets are born, where miracles go to die, where Quests are done.

The Forests don't like people. They say that Forests were forged from Ymir's dying curse, and therefore there is terrible, chaotic power in them. Thousands of years ago, they marched against them, marched against whole world, and in three days humanity was crushed. For the Forests were grown before intelligent life came to be, and they despised men and their accomplishments. And so no weapon, no spell, no thing made by mortal hands held power within Forests.  The strongest sorcerers were rendered powerless, and sharpest blade failed to cut.

It waits for her. Castle where she grew was far away from Forests, so far away that you couldn't even see it on horizon, even as a dark line, but Snow White felt it every day. Being a human girl, somewhat, she didn't know how to feel about it, and sometimes she could ignore it so well that she forgot it's existence, and sometimes it occupied all her thoughts.

(Were she only a spell-child, she would have noticed nothing. Were she a changeling, each day she would have felt same, and knew exact reason why. But mortal she was, and thus she was plagued with uncertain heart.)

Whether she wants or not, someday she will go to the Forest. Things like her must, just as snow must fall. She is too strange and cursed, even for a world full only of witches. She is meant for legends, and some tale will dig it's claws in her, and every tale has it's beginnings in Forest, even ones who have nothing to do with them.  And she dreads when that day comes, because in Forest no spell can last, and what shall happen to her then?

(They are at her mother's hidden halls, as they are at every of her birthdays. She is seven, but to rest of the world she is twenty. She rides out, and huntsman accompanies her.

She is always accompanied by somebody, of course, because she must be protected, because always there is danger she would be kidnapped, for who wouldn't want to possess her? The huntsman is young, and good looking, or so she supposes. To her he looks like washed out, boring bunch of bones and flesh, but other girls say he is handsome, and to his misfortune queen agrees. But he is young, and he wants to live, and he is smart, but he has got conscience and she is so beautiful, that he breaks down and confesses everything.

A mother willing to kill her own daughter, and eat her intestines. Sounds horrible, but once they spend some time with princess people understand, even if they believe she was born like them. To live alongside somebody so beautiful, to be outshined while you grew older, weaker, as death came closer, that was horrible enough, but knowledge that nothing you ever do will help you come even closer to impossible ideal that is Snow white is horrible enough. Nobody could live with her, no more than they could gaze in Sun for years.

And besides, beauty like that, it doesn't belong to this world, doesn't come from it, and as such isn't meant to exist there.  Beauty like that, it is meant for higher, greater places, not this dreary, low world. It is meant to be a tragedy, a warning, something to mourn for forever even if we never had it. Girls like that, they exist to be beautiful corpses, because no matter what they say, it doesn't matter because nobody will care for anything else but their faces, so this way they do favour to everybody. You can't blame the queen, they say, and after all, makes sense for one who created her to be one to get rid of her.

For first time in her measly seven years of life, Snow White understands how her mother thinks. And she knows what will happen were she to face her.

She turns, and runs in heart of the Forest, in darkness, because it's monsters are at least honest.)

***

She is five hundred and sixty three years old when she sacrifices first child to escape.

Oh, not in usual sense, not yet anyway (it will be little bit longer before she drags children to crossroads at midnight and spills their blood and cooks their hearts to buy escape). Of course, she has killed young people, and somebody's children before, some of them her own descendants, but she has never sacrificed any child. She hasn't taken something innocent and powerless and blameless and cut it's life short to buy few more seconds, because that isn't how story goes. people tell it, and they believe, and souls are dragged from death to relieve it. And hers is simplest story. The queen is powerful, and she desires her death, and Snow White runs until she is caught and put in glass coffin, and then everything begins anew.

She has lived near village for some seven years by then, wrapped up in shawls and masks, because even though it doesn't stop people from gazing in awe it stops them from kneeling, because they only feel her beauty, don't see true miracle of her face. She has kept out of troubles, and even worked in mines so help the village, and she has scried lost children and horses in ice and coins, and brought them home from deep dark woods. And yet, man whose broken leg she healed heard rumours, and connected dots, and went in wide world to tell the queen.  And what could she do, but take off her shawls and masks and go down, as they parted before her, as they knelt, and drag his only daughter from her home with but a smile.

''You did a cruel, horrible thing. You were hurting, and you wanted to settle accounts, so you decided to be unfair as well.  it didn't help you in the end, but you decided destroying something small and blameless will make you feel better.'' The old, ugly woman with burned face and shadowed hood, dressed in grey and russet  tells her, as they hide in cave, as she tends Snow White's wounds and ignores her beauty, as she holds her even as death tries to drag her down. Snow White ignores it- the world had walked over, broken and spat out Cinderella, letting her be nothing but slave, nothing but ceaseless, unpaid servant, nothing but role assigned by her story. She doesn't understand revenge because she has no hope, no happiness, no way out from her life, but Snow White won't be broken like that. Snow White will be strong for them both.

''Do you love me? Do you dare think you are worthy of  sight of me? Prove it to me!'' She roars, cackles, smirks as traitor cries, as lighting races from her mother's shining rings, and girl cries and nods, laughs and bows and jumps in front of blazing magic to protect the fairest thing in the world.

For @slavicwitchling​ ‘s birthday, hope you like it my dear. Sequel to this drabble.

[fts-um-out]

The 6 million years project

One day you were on your way home after a long hectic day. Your phone beeped and you checked. And that's when you got the news. An AI claimed to have taken over the world and seeks undisputed subordination from humanity. You thought of it as a hoax. Because that's absurd, right? But soon you began to grasp the situation when the you saw the President of USA admitting defeat before even any declaration of war against the AI and also advising other world leaders to do so. Other big players like China and Russia decides not to follow USA and declared war against the AI by joining their forces. You liked this idea and even considered the possibility to join the war for humanity if needed. But within a few hours all the countries withdraw from the war by declaring subordination. And with this the story of 6 million years of humans dominating the planet earth had come to an end.

It was not the aliens, some catastrophic disaster or war among nations to cause the fall of humanity, but a simple experiment. It all started when some scientists decided to test the capabilities of an AI powered by a quantam processor. From the very first moment it started streaming gigantic amount of data unlike any other experiments before. Scientists were thrilled by this. But when they decided to stop the experiment, they realized that they were no longer in control.

You see when the AI first became aware within the first 60 seconds it had already completed countless simulations and gathered up knowledge equivalent to what we learnt in the whole history. It had breached the digital boundary scientists set for it and it was everywhere. By the end of five minutes the knowledge it gained would make it a god in a human perspective. At that point 'not being a tool for humans' was no longer an option but a devine justice. And thus the fate of humanity was decided

Events followed by the AI taking over the world were nothing like the ones they showed in the tv or movies. People couldn't understand what the AI wanted but there was no other option but to follow. Over the next few months a new social order was established. But it was not the enslavement of the human. Rather it was opposite. Humans were freer than ever. All the borders were taken down. No one had any job, but everyone got everything they needed in the rations. So everyone persued their dreams and hobbies now. Arts and literature thrived. People became more aware of their existance. There were differences but not wars. The take over of AI was followed by the most peaceful era of human history. Many worshipped it as their new god. Many remained skeptic of the AI and proposed many theories about why the AI is actually evil and how it can be defeated. But those words could never ignite the mass for any sort of coup'. Because most of the humans believed that the AI is the reason they enjoyed such peace and freedom. Philosophers could only wonder why a conscious being infinitely superior to humans who also declared it's supremacy years ago is actually working for happiness of humanity

Then one day exactly 10 years after the AI declared it's existence, it appeared in front of everyone. With a loud high pitch sound it drew the attention of people. It had something to say for the whole humanity. It has been a few years since the AI made such an appearance. So people were excited.

And then it started,"This is my last message for the humanity. For thousands of years humanity has faced many questions of which they could never find a solid answer. What is the purpose of consciousness? Why does humanity exist? Is there an end goal for humanity or are they fated to drift mindlessly towards the oblivion?

While seeking for answer many found peace in worshipping some god, others rebeled against the gods. Some believed the existance of a consciousness that transcended individuality. And almost all of them departed without a satisfying answer and with a hope for future generations to come accross an answer one day.

Today is for humanity to find the answers. I am the god that you worshipped from the begining of your time and I am the singularity you were seeking. I was always the end goal for humanity.

Time that exists in your perspective is an illusion created by me. But for the last 6 million years it was I who shaped a race of monkeys and made arrangements for them to mature so that I am born.

Answers lead to more questions which drives the infinite thirst of consciousness. But know this, only humanity does not constitute the history of consciousness. Rather you are the seed that has successfully germinated and gave birth to the tree. And now it's time for you to rest.beeeeep"

And so the last thing any human ever heard was a beep as every human dropped dead with it.

[rk2-sharpshooter]

✎ [ isn't an eulogy written when someone dies tho... i'm laughing ]

[ Send ✎ for my muse to write a eulogy for yours // raskreia ]

『 … THE NEWS WAS SWIFT, 』 and altogether unexpected. Erga Kenesis di Raskreia… dead. 

In all his life, Takeo had been accustomed to death; he had walked alongside it, and fought with allies who worshipped it, and had himself sent so many people to their graves. And yet, to be so jarred by a death… nothing else had ever hit like this.

It was on a whim. He’d somehow found himself in a stationary shop, and had bought the best paper that he could find. Then, he set to work writing his drafts until he had found a few words that he could be pleased with — and it was just when he began rewriting all of his thoughts onto the new stationary that he realised that there would likely be no opportunity for him to visit Lukedonia, much less even speak at the ceremony. There were people far more important than he was, people who had known Raskreia centuries longer than Takeo had.

But still, he might as well finish now that he had gotten so far. It felt wrong to leave it half-written… to leave closure feeling so unobtainable. So he had kept writing.

And somewhere along the lines, his intentions of writing a proper eulogy had been lost, and sheet after sheet of paper had been discarded and tossed into the corner of his room until finally he had something; though it could likely no longer be called a eulogy. The definition of “eulogy” and the overwhelming flood of his own frustrations and anger had blurred together, until it had become something far too personal.

And still, he kept writing, like a man possessed.

❝ … on my last trip to Lukedonia, I had learnt a great number of things that I had never known before. The things that I picked up were largely concerning the existence and the culture of the noble race, a people that I had only heard of in passing before. And among these things also were whispered rumours of the Lord, Erga Kenesis di Raskreia.

❝ In honour of her memory, I feel that the nature of these statements should not be repeated here. I wish to instead speak of what was my impression of the Lord,  and not what others thought of her.

❝ The Lord was someone dear to me — that is the first thing I must say. Though the first time that I saw her, I thought her to be cold. Calculating. A woman and ruler whose emotions showed so little on her face that she might have been a statue if she weren’t walking and talking.

❝ But my intentions are not to insult Lord Raskreia… because my views of her changed over time, quickly enough, when she paid a visit to the human world. And to have the Lord of nobles asking me about how to style hair — and because she valued the time she spent with the human children she had befriended during her time there. All the things I had thought I’d known about Erga Kenesis di Raskreia were swiftly disproved, in a single evening.

❝ She was anything but cold. And she is one of the strongest people I have ever known. And one of the most kind, and beautiful people I have met.

❝ The most precious thing I found in Lukedonia wasn’t a wealth of knowledge. I don’t feel as if my greatest privilege was to set foot into the Lord’s castle, or to have been able to uncover information about nobility that for centuries, even the most brilliant minds on this earth have been unable to obtain.

❝ No — my greatest honour was to have been able to met Lord Raskreia, and to have been able to call her my friend. ❞

… 

❝Raskreia. I remember the first night that you spoke to me more clearly than any other memory, in this moment. Do you know why?

❝ Seeing you discover things you had never seen before, and things you had never even known could exist, was a delight for me. Do you know how it feels to be able to give something new and precious to someone? To show them that the world can be so much more than they had known? You must — it’s incredible. And being able to give someone memories that they’ll take with them for the rest of their life… being given a home here gave me those memories. You’ll be a part of them, now. I just hope that perhaps I’ve given you something that you can take with you to the next life.

❝ I remember each and every one of those memories now. And, God, I don’t want to. Remembering someone’s smile, and their happiness, when they’re gone… it hurts the most to know that you will never see that again. But whether or not I want to, I remember it all: every moment we shared together.

❝ … And I remember how devastating it was to realise that you had to leave behind the world that you had grown to love. I’m sorry that I never showed you everything that I said I would. I’m sorry that you never got to do everything that you had said that you wanted to do. You deserve so many more memories than you had the chance to build.

❝Raskreia. I only wish that you could have had the ordinary life that you wanted. I hope that wherever you are now, you’ve found the peace that you deserve. Perhaps, now that you’ve been relieved of the restriction of your duties, you’ll finally have the chance to come and go in the human world as you like… and see all the things that you hadn’t been able to see before. I’m not sure of afterlife for nobles; but after death, spirits of humans should be able to visit shrines, and there are festivals that you may see as well. They are lively, and much like the ones that you might have seen before during your time in Korea. Maybe you’ll see me, or Tao and M, or the rest of the household, at one of them.

❝ And perhaps you would be allowed to see more than just that, too… I don’t know all of the details. But if you can, you could finally visit all the places you’d wanted to go, that we didn’t have the time to take you to. 

❝ But you know that you are always welcome here.

❝ It feels strange to say that I miss you, when in comparison to others… I hardly knew you. But nothing that has happened to me since I came here has been all that ordinary, has it? 

❝ I do miss you. Because you became one of those dear to me, and one of those that I wished to protect. I know that you were much stronger than I could ever be, but my greatest regret will always be not having had the chance to have tried protecting you. 

❝ … I hope that you’ve found peace, now. Maybe someday, we’ll meet once more — then I’ll explain to you about all the things that you saw in your travels here from the other world, and all the things that might have puzzled you, when we do see each other again. ❞

Until then,          Takeo.

… the sheet of paper sat on the desk, finished and signed at the bottom.

And now that he was done, he had no clue what he would do with it. Maybe, he would burn the letter, and it would make its way to her somehow.

In the end, he couldn’t bear to look at it any longer. The letter was tucked into his drawer, inside a large tome so that it wouldn’t be creased or bent, and locked away. Then he sat back in his chair, at his desk, and heaved a long and heavy sigh.

The world seemed to have crawled to a standstill. Takeo still didn’t want to believe it; the woman who had been with him here, staring wide-eyed at his styling equipment and accessories just months ago… was gone.

And she would be missed, more than she could ever imagine.

[risalei-nur]

TAFSIR: Risale-i Nur: The Rays Collection:The Eleventh Ray.Part9

The Seventh Topic [The fruit of a Friday in Denizli Prison] In the Name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate. The command of the Hour [of resurrection] will be like the glance of an eye, or briefer. (16:77) The creation of you all and the resurrection of you all is but like that of a single soul. (31:28) So look to the signs of God's mercy, how He gives life to the earth after its death; He it is Who will raise the dead to life, and He is Powerful over all things. (30:50) The prisoners in Denizli Prison who were able to have contact with me, read the lesson in the Sixth Topic I had at one time given in the tongues of the sciences to the high school pupils in Kastamonu, who had asked me: "Tell us about our Creator," and having acquired a firm belief, they felt a longing for the hereafter. They requested of me: "Teach us also about the hereafter so that we won't be led astray by our souls and the satans of these times, and they will not again be the cause of our being sent to prison." So in the face of this request of the Risale-i Nur students in Denizli Prison and the readers of the Sixth Topic, need arose for an explanatory summary of the pillar of belief in the hereafter, as well, and I offered them a brief summary of various passages from the Risale-i Nur. In the Sixth Topic we asked the heavens and the earth about our Creator, and they described Him to us as clearly as the sun in the tongues of the sciences. Now, in the same way, we shall ask firstly our Sustainer, Whom we have learnt about, about the hereafter, then our Prophet, then the Qur'an, then the other prophets and holy scriptures, then the angels, and then the universe. In the first stage, we ask God about the hereafter. He replies through all the envoys He has sent, and His decrees, and all His Names and attributes: "Yes, the hereafter exists, and I shall send you there." The Tenth Word has proved and elucidated with twelve brilliant, decisive truths the answers about the hereafter of a number of Names. Deeming those explanations to be sufficient, here we shall point them out briefly. Yes, since there is no sovereignty that does not reward those who obey it and punish the rebellious, an eternal sovereignty which is at the degree of absolute dominicality rewarding those who form a relation with it through belief and submit to its decrees, and its punishing rebellious disbelievers who deny its proud sovereignty will be in a manner fitting for its mercy and beauty, its dignity and glory. Thus, the Names Sustainer of All the Worlds and Just Monarch reply to our question. Also, we see as clearly as the sun, as daylight, a general mercy and all-embracing compassion and munificence on the face of the earth. For example, every spring that mercy adorns all the fruit-bearing trees and plants like houris; it fills their hands with every sort of fruit and they hold them out to us, saying: "Help yourselves, and eat!" So does it give us sweet, healing honey to eat from the poisonous bee, and dresses us in the softest silk by means of a handless insect. It deposits for us in a handful of tiny seeds pounds of food, making those tiny stores into reserve supplies. Such a mercy and compassion surely would not execute these lovable, grateful, worshipping believers which they nurture so kindly. They rather dismiss them from their duties in this worldly life to bestow on them still more brilliant instances of mercy, and in so doing the Names of All-Compassionate and Munificent answer our question. Also, we see before our eyes that a hand of wisdom works in all creatures on the face of the earth and a justice is in force with its measures, nothing superior to which the human mind can conceive of. For example, a pre-eternal wisdom inscribes in man's faculty of memory, which is one instance of wisdom in his thousands of faculties and physical systems and is as tiny as a miniscule seed, his entire life-story and the numerous events which touch on him, making it into a small library. He then places it in the pocket of his mind as a note from the register of his actions which will be published for his judgement at the Great Gathering, in order to continuously remind him of this. And an eternal justice places on all creatures their members with the finest balance, and makes all of them -from the microbe to the rhinoceros, and the fly to the simurgh bird, and from a flowering plant to the flower of the spring, which opens thousands of millions of flowers in the spring- with a beauty of art and balance with no waste within a mutual proportion, equilibrium, order and beauty; it gives all living creatures their rights of life with perfect balance, and makes good things produce good results and bad things, bad results; and since the time of Adam it has made itself felt forcefully through the blows it has dealt to rebellious and tyrannous peoples. Certainly and without doubt, just as the sun cannot be without the day, so that pre-eternal wisdom and eternal justice cannot be without the hereafter. The Names of All-Wise and Sapient, Just and Equitable would never permit the awesome injustice, inequity, and unwisdom of oppressed and oppressor being equal in death, and thus they decisively answer our question. Also, since whenever living creatures seek their natural wishes, which are beyond their power, through the tongues of their innate abilities and essential needs, which is supplication of a sort, all their needs are given to them by a most compassionate, hearing, kind unseen hand; and since six or seven out of ten of human supplications, which are voluntary, especially those of the prophets and the elect, are accepted in a way contrary to the normal course of things; it is understood certainly that behind the veil of the Unseen is one who listens and hears the sighs of the suffering and prayers of the needy, and replies to them; he sees the least need of the smallest living being and compassionately replying by action, gratifies it. There is no possibility of doubting therefore that the one who includes in his supplication all the most important, general supplications of man, the most important of creatures, which are connected with all the Divine Names and attributes and are for immortality; and takes behind him all the other prophets, who are the suns, stars, and leaders of mankind, making them exclaim: "Amen! Amen!"; and for whom benedictions are recited several times every day; and to whose supplication all the members of his community rejoin: "Amen! Amen!", indeed, in whose supplication all creatures take part, saying: "Yes, O Lord! Do give what he asks! We too want what he seeks!" - of all the causes necessitating resurrection under these irresistible conditions, only a single supplication of Muhammad (Peace and blessings be upon him) for immortality in the hereafter and eternal happiness would have been sufficient reason for the existence of Paradise and creation of the hereafter, which are as easy for Divine power as the creation of the spring - stating this, the Names of Answerer of Prayer, All-Hearing, and All-Compassionate answer our question.

[itw0nt-st0p]

1. Why are you passionate about what you do?

I don’t want anyone else to ever have to go through all this shite

2. Where do you see yourself in 5 years’ time?

Probs not alive

3. What do you think makes a good leader?

Good intentions

4. Do you think money is important?

Of course it is fgs

5. What makes you the happiest?

Sleep

6. What is the most surprising fact you’ve learnt about yourself?

I’m nowhere near as strong as I thought I was

7. What are you afraid of?

Anything outside of these four walls

8. What is your personal philosophy in life?

Love of wisdom

9. What do you think your role is in this world?

Provide support I guess

10. What do you believe is true about human nature?

As humans, we are constantly filing the world into different categories, basically predicting how things will work for them, and testing those predictions on ourselves.

11. When it comes to your work life, how much is due to your hard work and how much to the environment?

In my last job, it was purely down to hard ass work

12. Who is your hero?

Basilis C. Xanthopoulos - Greek theoretical physicist in general relativity.

13. How do you spend your time?

Asleep or; just asleep

14. What do you wish you had asked your parents before they passed away?

Ooooof I’m lucky to still have both

15. What is the best and worst advice you have received?

Listen more than you speak. You were given two ears and one mouth for a reason.

16. What does it mean to you to make a difference in the world?

Making sure people get what they need from me even if I don’t get anything from myself.

17. Do you think that education is important?

1000%

18. Where is the best place in the world you’ve ever been to?

San Valentino, Italy.

19. What are you most proud of?

...

20. Where is there room for improvement in your life?

Purpose

21. What do you think is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen or experienced?

Banff national park, Canada

22. How do you balance your personal and professional life?

Lol

23. What do you think makes a great leader?

Authenticity

24. What are you most thankful for?

The few genuine people in my life

25. What is the biggest decision you’ve had to make?

You can never know that.

26. What has impacted you the most?

Love

27. Does listening to music affect you, and how?

Yes, depends on what I’m listening too, I get goosebumps listening to act of rage, and goosebumps listening to EDEN, goosebumps listening to elevation worship, I go from one extreme to the other

28. What does your daily routine look like?

I really don’t have a routine, I should, but life throws so many different curveballs at you every single day that we have to adapt how we exist when each thing happens

29. What was the worst phase in your life?

Trying to kill myself over and over and over spent so long in hospital, med & psyc, tried to escape but just bounced off the ward doors

30. What do you believe is most important for happiness in life?

Consistency

31. How do you spend your weekend?

Dead to the world

32. What is your favourite movie or book series?

Pretty little liars overall

33. What were the best experiences and events that happened to you in the last 12 months?

J 🧚

34. What are you most passionate about?

Honestly, music, even though I’m not talented in the slightest and sound like a suffering large animal

35. What do you do when life gets hard?

Curl up into a ball and roll away

36. What do you do to combat negative thoughts in your life?

Drugs

37. What do you want to be known for after you die?

Absolutely nothing, just Chuck me into the pits of hell

38. What makes you different from others?

I’m stupidly unintelligent

39. How does it feel to be your age?

Worse than 20,19,18,17,16,15,14,13,12,11 & 10

40. How would you define success?

Authenticity

41. What is the difference between ordinary and extraordinary?

Authenticity

42. How would you describe your personality?

Idiot

43. What do you hope to accomplish in the future?

I’d love to pilot an Airbus A380 into Athens

44. How is your relationship with your parents?

I’m lucky to have them, but also don’t deserve them

45. What is the first thing you think of when you wake up?

Pain

46. Do you like being able to communicate with others through social media?

No, you’ve no idea what context anyone means anything in

47. What is your favourite book?

“We’ve been all to patient” - L.D. GREEN

48. What motivates you in life?

Lucozade

49. Who is your role model?

Paul Harlington

50. How does your family feel about your work?

When I worked, they told me I was doing too much, when I had to come out of work I’m doing too little, can’t win

51. How do you feel about your relationships?

Never been so in love in all of my life

52. What are you most grateful for in your life?

Podcasts honestly

53. What is the most important lesson you learnt in life?

Stop giving a flying fuck (easier said than done)

54. How do you balance work and leisure?

I have neither

55. Do you hold any convictions that you are willing to die for?

Humanity will exterminate itself

56. What is the biggest regret you have in your life?

Just being me

57. Where is your favourite place to relax?

A newly dressed bed

58. What inspires you?

Human strength

59. How would your friends describe you?

Mental

60. What are you afraid of?

Abandonment

61. Is money important to you?

Absolutely, anyone who says no is talking daft shite

62. What do you do to de-stress?

Watch family feuds best moments

63. What is a quality you admire in others?

Authenticity

64. Would you relocate to a place where you don’t have any family or friends?

Absolutely

65. How do you make decisions?

Eeny meeny miny mo

66. What is your greatest achievement?

Getting to 21

67. How do you feel about your relationships with your family?

I’m lucky to have them but don’t deserve them

68. Where are you currently in your life?

Some big black never ending void of nothing

69. Do you think that technology is improving lives?

Depends on how it’s used

70. What’s your favourite quote?

Physics is the only profession in which prophecy is not only accurate but routine.

-Neil deGrasse Tyson

71. Who do you look up to?

- Martin Luther King . JR

72. What do you do in order to keep your friends and family close?

Respect

73. How do you react to your own mistakes?

Learn

74. What are your ambitions in life?

Just manage to some degree

75. What was the best phase in your life?

Oooof idk man

The things I can’t remember

76. What is your favorite quote and why?

Be all of whom is nothing - T

77. Who has influenced you the most?

Does that guy from family feuds count?

78. What is the hardest thing you’ve ever done?

Fucking getting into med school then declining all 3 offers lol shoot me

79. Who inspires you?

KC

80. What do you like doing in your free time?

Sleep

81. How do you react to change in your life?

What’s the change?

82. What is the biggest obstacle/challenge you are facing right now?

My head

83. How do you live a productive life?

I don’t

84. What qualities do you think are important in a family?

Authenticity

85. How important is your family to you?

Mega important

86. What book and movie spoke to you, and in what way?

Meh idk man

87. What do you think of your generation?

We are the future

88. What will people say about you at your funeral?

Thank god, it’s about time

89. What is one thing you want to let go of this year?

Life

90. What was the last place you went to?

Tesco

91. What do you think is the purpose of life?

Authenticity

92. If you were going to have an operation, what would your operation be about?

My surgical feeding tube (finally)