#also indians aren’t the only people who eat with their hands

[crabussy]

indian people exist

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

I have a theodicy-adjacent question if that's alright. How can I offer prayers of thanksgiving without implying that God "likes me better" than They like other people? For example, I often want to thank God for keeping my loved ones safe through this pandemic, but it feels weird when so many have lost dear ones. I've learned a lot about how to wrestle with God through your ministry, but how to bring your positive feelings to God without toeing the line of a prosperity gospel-esque mindset?

Anon, I feel you! Some point a few years ago I had a similar unsettling realization. I knew that gratitude is important not only for our relationship with God, but for our psychological wellbeing — yet I felt so guilty for thanking God for things i knew others didn’t have. Did attributing the good things in my life to God imply that God wasn’t with those who lacked those good things? 

I brought that guilt and discomfort to God (and still do, whenever it arises anew). asked Them to help me sit with it, accept it, and then transform it into something more fruitful.

guilt transformed to motivation. discomfort transformed to commitment. what i was left with was an understanding that i did not need to stop my prayers of thanksgiving, but to expand them.

i take time to really feel and express my gratitude for the abundance i experience. and then i ask God to help my gratitude move me to a desire for others to experience that abundance too. I ask for guidance in how i can help make that abundance happen in the the lives of those around me and far from me. 

___

i also make time for lament. many of us are taught how to ask God for things and how to thank God for things, but grief and lament are not taught. however, thanksgiving and lament are not opposites, but work together. they enrich one another. we need to take time for both.

a book that helped me embrace lament was Barbara Brown Taylor’s Learning to Walk in the Dark. You can read quotes and whole passages from it in my tag over here.

one of my favorite songs/psalms to sing/pray in lament is this one. The psalmist empowers us to question God, to ask why and how and when? and then the psalmist leads us to praise God anyway — to praise in spite of and with our doubts and our questions. 

when we look at all the pain in the world — in our own lives, the lives of loved ones, the lives of those we don’t even know, and in the struggling pulse of all Creation — we feel all sorts of things. Distress, despair, anger, grief. But some of us are afraid to bring those feelings to God. We’d rather avoid the feelings in general, repress them, not sit inside them for a while. (And certainly, we should not wallow in the bad all the time.) Bt when we dare to assign intentional time to sit in those feelings, God sits in them with us. 

And there is a strange thanksgiving in there, too — that we aren’t alone in the lament. We come to see that it is true that God does not will suffering upon any one of us — that the fact that sometimes i experience blessing while you struggle, or you find success while i go without, is not because God is choosing which happy few to bless that day. God really does will abundant life for all, and grieves when sin (individual, systemic, the rot that eats at this world) blocks that abundance for anyone. 

___

in continuing to make time to feel and express gratitude, and then to make time to lament and to both desire and participate in abundance for others, thanksgiving does not elevate me above others as “better” or “more blessed” than they are. instead, gratitude reminds me of how interconnected we are with one another. In the Body we all share, “If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it” (1 Cor 12:26).

___

When abundance wins out in spite of sin, we rejoice! When it is we who enjoy that abundance, our gratitude should not lead to smugness or self-congratulations, but to humility. it should shape us, move us to bring similar abundance to others.

A book that has really helped me understand that concept is Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass (which you can read online for free).

Christian texts have told me that the appropriate response to all God’s gifts is gratitude, but it’s Kimmerer’s book that helped me digest and embody just what that means. We acknowledge abundance, and we use that gratitude to connect us to the giver, and to others to whom that giver would also share Their gift.

Here’s one passage from her chapter “The Gift of Strawberries,” starting on page 33 of the webpage linked above:

Even  now,  after  more  than  fifty  Strawberry  Moons,  finding  a patch  of  wild strawberries  still  touches  me  with  a  sensation  of surprise, a feeling of unworthiness and gratitude for the generosity and kindness that comes with an unexpected gift all wrapped in red and green. “Really? For me? Oh, you shouldn’t have.” After fifty years  they  still  raise  the  question  of  how  to respond  to  their generosity.  Sometimes  it  feels  like  a  silly  question  with  a very simple answer: eat them. 

But I know that someone else has wondered these same things. In  our Creation stories  the  origin  of  strawberries  is  important. Skywoman’s  beautiful daughter,  whom  she  carried  in  her  womb from Skyworld, grew on the good green earth, loving and loved by all the other beings. But tragedy befell her when she died giving birth to her twins, Flint and Sapling. Heartbroken, Skywoman buried her beloved daughter in the earth. Her final gifts, our most revered plants, grew from her body. The strawberry arose from her heart.

In  Potawatomi,  the  strawberry  is ode  min, the  heart  berry.  We recognize them as the leaders of the berries, the first to bear fruit.

Strawberries first shaped my view of a world full of gifts simply scattered at your feet. A gift comes to you through no action of your own, free, having moved toward you without your beckoning. It is not a reward; you cannot earn it, or call it to you, or even deserve it.  And  yet  it  appears.  Your  only  role  is  to  be open-eyed  and present.  Gifts  exist  in  a  realm  of  humility  and  mystery—as with random acts of kindness, we do not know their source.

...Gifts  from  the  earth  or  from  each  other  establish  a  particular relationship,  an  obligation  of  sorts  to  give,  to  receive,  and  to reciprocate. The field gave to us, we gave to my dad, and we tried to give back to the strawberries. When the berry season was done, the plants would send out slender red runners to make new plants.

Because I was fascinated by the way they would travel over the ground looking for good places to take root, I would weed out little patches  of  bare  ground  where  the  runners  touched  down.  Sure enough, tiny little roots would emerge from the runner and by the end of the season there were even more plants, ready to bloom under  the  next  Strawberry  Moon.  No  person  taught us  this—the strawberries  showed  us.  Because  they  had  given  us  a  gift, an ongoing relationship opened between us.

...It’s funny how the nature of an object—let’s say a strawberry or a pair  of  socks—is  so  changed  by  the  way  it  has  come  into  your hands, as a gift or as a commodity. The pair of wool socks that I buy at the store, red and gray striped, are warm and cozy. I might feel grateful for the sheep that made the wool and the worker who ran  the  knitting  machine.  I  hope  so.  But  I  have no inherentobligation  to  those  socks  as  a  commodity,  as  private  property. There is no bond beyond the politely exchanged “thank yous” with the clerk. I have paid for them and our reciprocity ended the minute I handed her the money. The exchange ends once parity has been established, an equal exchange. They become my property. I don’t write a thank-you note to JCPenney.

But what if those very same socks, red and gray striped, were knitted  by  my grandmother  and  given  to  me  as  a  gift?  That changes everything. A gift creates ongoing relationship. I will write a thank-you note. I will take good care of them and if I am a very gracious grandchild I’ll wear them when she visits even if I don’t like them. When it’s her birthday, I will surely make her a gift in return. As  the  scholar  and  writer  Lewis  Hyde  notes,  “It  is  the  cardinal difference  between  gift  and  commodity  exchange  that  a  gift establishes a feeling-bond between two people.”

That  is  the  fundamental  nature  of  gifts:  they  move,  and  their value increases with their passage. The fields made a gift of berries to  us  and  we  made  a  gift  of  them  to  our  father.  The  more something is shared, the greater its value becomes. This is hard to grasp  for  societies  steeped  in notions  of  private  property,  where others are, by definition, excluded from sharing. Practices such as posting  land  against  trespass,  for  example,  are expected  and accepted  in  a  property  economy  but  are  unacceptable  in  an economy where land is seen as a gift to all.

Lewis  Hyde  wonderfully  illustrates  this  dissonance  in  his exploration of the “Indian giver.” This expression, used negatively today as a pejorative for someone who gives something and then wants to have it back,  actually  derives from  a  fascinating  cross- cultural misinterpretation between an indigenous culture operating in a gift economy and a colonial culture predicated on the concept of private property. When gifts were given to the settlers by the Native  inhabitants,  the  recipients  understood  that  they  were valuable and were intended to be retained. Giving them away would have been an affront. But the indigenous people understood the value of the gift to be based in reciprocity and would be affronted if the  gifts  did  not  circulate  back  to  them.  

Many  of  our  ancient teachings counsel that whatever we have been given is supposed to be given away again. From the viewpoint of a private property economy, the “gift” is deemed  to  be  “free”  because  we  obtain  it  free  of  charge,  at  no cost. But in the gift economy, gifts are not free. The essence of the gift is that it creates a set of relationships. The currency of a gift economy is, at its root, reciprocity. In Western thinking, private land is understood to be a “bundle of rights,” whereas in a gift economy property has a “bundle of responsibilities” attached.

...

In  material  fact,  Strawberries  belong  only  to  themselves.  The exchange relationships  we  choose  determine  whether  we  share them  as  a  common gift  or  sell  them  as  a  private  commodity. A great  deal  rests  on  that choice.

For  the  greater  part  of  human history, and in places in the world today, common resources were the rule. But some invented a different story, a social construct in which everything is a commodity to be bought and sold. The market economy  story  has  spread  like  wildfire,  with  uneven  results  for human well-being and devastation for the natural world. But it is just a story we have told ourselves and we are free to tell another, to reclaim the old one.

One  of  these  stories  sustains  the  living  systems  on  which  we depend. One of these stories opens the way to living in gratitude and amazement at the richness and generosity of the world. One of these stories asks us to bestow our own gifts in kind, to celebrate our  kinship  with  the  world.  We  can  choose.  If all  the  world  is  a commodity,  how  poor  we  grow.  When  all  the  world  is  a gift  in motion, how wealthy we become.

[lunaathorne]

i tried to search the anti bryke tag but all that showed up was abt zutara. what are the racist issues? obviously u don't have to answer this you don't owe it to me to explain this but i would love to learn

yeah I mean.

for a show named "avatar" and its generous freeloading of buddhism and hinduism and chakras and third eyes and reincarnation cycles, atla had the grand total of one (1) indian character who was voiced by a white actor imitating exaggerated tamil accents and drinking banana and onion juice (haha, so funny, geddit, cause we indians eat wonky stuff....with our HANDS!!!! like uncivilized people!!!) not to mention that ugly ass scene in nightmares and daydreams when pathik appears in a dream on a lotus (I think?) singing CHAKRAS CHAKRAS with several arms, in a blatantly offensive imagery associated with ma durga/and or several hindu deities who carry weapons and sacred symbols in their arms.

white people in general like to pretend India doesn't exist as part of Asia and they can borrow our aesthetic without representing us, so our great rep in atla is:

names like katara and bumi, rohan and kuvira derived from south asian languages and some of these are very popular Indian names. but don't you be fooled, none of these characters are indian!!!

evil assassins having third eyes on their forehead like our hindu deity Shiva doesn't have a third eye and isn't the destroyer of EVIL.

The fucking golden temple of Amritsar was the sight of much political turmoil and also is EXTREMELY sacred to the Sikhs and the design was literally bootlegged in Korra to make a pro gamer compound. A temple turned to a cutesy sports complex.

most people having south asian and/or arabic names like ghazan, zaheer etc being painted as big baddies.

there's an ugly desi woman caricature in the korra comics but I haven't read it, my indian and Pakistani friends have though. Wouldn't you know it she's a bad guy.

atla is chockful of white liberal propaganda which is why people love some war criminals of the fire nation but lose all sense of comprehension when it comes to victims of oppression like jet and hama who GOD FORBID would have decided to rebel against their oppressors. They could have easily made jet evil in some other way but they specifically villainized his proactive resistance. "jet killed innocents" how about bryke are white liberals, how about ppl chew on that for a hot sec. Don't even get me started on lok.

katara's character is so dear to me but she's not written canonically in the beautiful emancipation arc people think she has. her trauma is second place to aang and she spends 3 seasons fcking mothering him (lol brown girls can relate we do have to coddle our manbabies I'll give you that) only for bryke and fandom to treat her like shit and leave her unrecognised because uwu internalised misogyny in the name of ship wars I guess. [ For ref see the way she is treated when it comes to LGBTQ headcanons/ some popular m/m ships]

many people rightfully express indignation at the shyamalan movie for casting desis as fire nation but sometimes criticism was just "WHY ARE THERE INDIANS IN ATLA?" I'll riddle you one better: in the first place, why aren't there Indians in atla?

[joonkorre]

Rules for Night Guards at Golden Locket Ent.

@drarrymicrofic prompt: sunrise/sunset. ao3

Hello to the new hire,

I know you must be confused. Why are you finding this raggedy piece of paper in your brand new office? Well, first of all, there’s a reason why they keep this office shiny and clean. If it’s not spotless by sunrise, would anyone take the job?

Either way, I’m the one making sure this paper is found by new hires (perks of being a janitor with all the keys). The higher-ups don’t know this building like I do; they know that people can’t work here for even a week, and that’s it. They don’t know enough to solve the problem, they’re too scared to, and no one bothers to ask an ancient janitor.

After your first night here, though, you’ll have a lot to ask. The janitorial staff is not allowed to speak to any employee, including you, so read this document carefully. I’d say take pictures of it front and back, but taking out your phone to access them on the job might not be a good idea, especially as the night progresses.

Again, read this until the rules are tattooed in your head. Many have not heeded me. They’ve either quit or lost more than a job.

Pay attention.

Rules for Night Guards at Golden Locket Ent.

[DO NOT DEFACE THIS DOCUMENT IN ANY MANNER]

Always arrive at your office before sundown. That’s why you’re called here early. The door doesn’t have to be locked, but stay in your office.

8 PM is when your shift starts. Begin by doing your routine check, two rounds for each floor. Finish the 1st floor in no more than 25 minutes.

If you see trespassers, don’t bother chasing them out if you see upturned rubbish bins (see Rule #8).

There will be another night guard who also has a document of their own. Greet them, remember their face. Don’t be surprised if you see a different person the next day, you know how it is around here.

You might meet another person as you walk up the stairs to the 2nd floor. They look the same as the other night guard, but there are slight differences. It doesn’t work here. Do not respond to any and all of its attempts at getting your attention.

After 9 PM, don’t look out the floor-to-ceiling window on the 3rd floor. It will be difficult and the noise will only get louder, but it is strongly recommended that you do not look. Be patient, it will be gone.

Leave the opened file cabinets be.

Be mindful of upturned rubbish bins. If you see one, hide in an office and lock it. It’s some of the building’s inhabitants’ feeding time. Wait until the second set of footsteps passes, then you can come out.

On the 4th floor, there will be a man with glasses. Sometimes you’ll see a boy or a teenager instead, but the glasses are the same. Engage in conversation with him. Deny that you work here.

If the man finds you interesting, he will walk with you as you continue your routine check, and will eventually ask you to let him out. There is no telling how he’d react, but the best response is a polite rejection as you “don’t work here and don’t have the right.” He might use other means of persuasion, in which case defend yourself and/or negotiate with him as best as you can. This is where many people have failed the test.

Between the hours of 10:21 PM and 11:09 PM, it is imperative that you return to your office and monitor the building using the security camera system. Do not go out to the courtyard before your shift is over. Only the other security guard knows the rules to navigate it.

Camera #3 has to be off. If it turns on, cover it entirely.

At 1 AM, there will be two knocks on your door. You will open it and find no one outside. Remark on it aloud, then lock your door, both bolts. Sit with your back facing it.

The paper shredder near the right of your work desk might move when you are not looking. It is always unplugged. If it turns on and alerts you of jammed paper, don’t fix it. Fingers aren’t easy for us to scrub out.

You are to stay out of your office from 2:16 AM to 3:26 AM. No source of light other than your company-issued flashlight is permitted when you are in the halls at this time, including phones and other smart devices. They will deceive you.

Camera #11 will show a being running just off-screen. When it does, check your door three times to ensure that it’s locked. You will have to re-lock it.

The man with glasses will stand in front of the 4th floor's fire exit and look directly at Camera #7. There will be a banging on your door, which will increase in intensity. No matter how tempting it is, do not open the door under any circumstances.

The man will start to talk about how you look very similar to his best friends—a man with ginger hair who can "eat anything" and a curly-haired woman who is "smarter than Einstein" are described—and will plead with you to help him escape. If you are a man with blonde hair, it’s reported that instead of comparing you to his friends, he’ll threaten to “throw you into [redacted] to rot with your fucking father when [he] gets [his] hands on you," and grows extremely hostile. Do what you can to keep him from breaking the door down.

When a camera moves, turn off all the lights in your office. Hiding under the desk for at least five minutes is encouraged if you want to lessen the chances of the creature seeing you.

Remain in your office when you’re done with your tasks until dawn. After sunrise, you’re allowed to walk around inside the building. Leave using the front entrance when your shift ends at 6 AM.

I admit this doesn't sound fun at all. But as someone who’s worked here for longer than she can remember, once you’re used to all the quirks of this place, it’s worth it. High wages, no nosy bosses hovering over your shoulders, great benefits. You can do whatever you want in your office, as long as you follow the rules. Trust me, you’ll like this job.

Just keep an eye on the monitor and the clock, will you?

P.S: If you're able to read this postscript, I know you have a wand. Call me Muggle, No-Maj, whatever, but I’ve seen it all. Here’s a final piece of advice for people like you—your neat little sticks are useless here. Feel free to try, but it’s better to leave it at home than have a broken wand, no?

[crackling noise]

“Hello, uh, Jaclynn, is it?”

-Hey, Drake. And yeah! Ha, wow, this is kinda weird. I’ve never used a walkie-talkie before.-

“Me too. Um, question, do you have a… an old-looking… letter? On your desk? Maybe in a cabinet?”

-Oh, um.-

“Jaclynn?”

-You… received that document, too? With all the rules?-

“Yes, actually. Reckon it's some sort of idiotic prank by the last night guard, right.”

-I, I don’t know, to be honest. I mean… I thought it was, but it’s. It’s starting. Whatever’s going on, it’s right there in the rules.-

[pause]

“Shite.”

-Yeah, I get that. Fuck, I’m scared, haha, fuck. Is it starting for you, also?-

“Not for another, ah, 10 minutes. I can’t leave my office until then.”

-Okay. Okay. I’m not supposed to come into the building.-

“And I’m not supposed to come out to the courtyard.”

-Fuck.-

[pause]

[distant whistling]

-Fuck, fuck, it’s here. It’s here.-

“Okay, alright, stay calm. Stay alive. We both stay alive our first night, and I’ll, I’ll get us kebabs.”

-Not sounding too confident there, mister.-

“I promise. We adapt, we survive, we get our paycheck, and we eat good food. By 6 in the morning, we’ll meet by the front gate.”

-Goodness, Drake, that sounds so nice.-

“Mhmm. I’ll have this thing turned off the whole night, you should do the same. Read your rules, okay?”

-Same goes for you. You owe me kebabs and Indian, too.-

“Noted. Good luck, Jaclynn.”

-Don’t die, Drake.-

[crackling sound]

[silence]

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #183

Whew, all those racers are finally done! Now we can kick back a bit, all we have to make this time is a literal god.

Anyway, enough self pity! Today we’re making Parvati, one of the many wives of Shiva, but also his only wife, because all the other wives are a part of her, I guess. Hindu gods make our sense of self look vanilla by comparison. She is an Oath of the Ancients Paladin for some godly protection, and a War Cleric for when it’s time to Durga it up a bit.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Like fire, Hellfire, this fire in my skin!

Race and Background

Like many pseudoservants, Parvati is one half god, one half human, so a Fallen Aasimar will keep that in mind and also let her scare the crap out of people when she lets Kali loose. This gives her +1 Wisdom and +2 Charisma, as well as Darkvision, Celestial Resistance to radiant and necrotic damage, the Light cantrip, and some Healing Hands to help people as an action without having to slit your throat.

“Wife of a god” isn’t a common background, but I assume it’s pretty similar to being a Noble. Lots of politics, deciding the fate of peasants/mortals for them, that kind of thing. that gives you proficiency in History (makes sense-you’re immortal) and Persuasion (you were somehow able to convince Guda to eat an entire cow-sized chocolate in a single sitting).

Ability Scores

Make sure your Wisdom is as high as possible to help take care of everyone’s problems (except for Kama’s). After that is Charisma- she’s the wife of the gods, it only makes sense for this to be really high. Her Strength isn’t that high, but a god who is bad at fighting is still a god. After that is Dexterity. It should be higher to deal with the whole “fighting in a sari” thing, but we needed the other three for multiclassing. Her Intelligence isn’t amazing, but we need everything else more for the build. That means we’re dumping Constitution. Honestly she should be tougher, but one of her big myths involves hurting herself for the sake of others, so that’s going to knock her down a couple points.

Class Levels

Paladin 1: Starting off as a paladin will get you more HP than a cleric, but you also get proficiency in Wisdom and Charisma saves, and the skills Religion and Intimidation. You’re a god, and I’m not sure how you convinced Guda to eat a chocolate cow, so now all your bases are covered. You also get a Divine Sense to suss out extraplanar goodies and baddies as an action 1+your Charisma Modifier times per day. You also also get even more healing thanks to Lay on Hands, which gives you a total pool of healing equal to five times your paladin level per long rest.

Paladin 2: Second level paladins get a Fighting Style, but since you’re not actually that good at fighting we’ll grab Interception instead. While wielding a weapon or shield you can react to block attacks going towards creatures near you, reducing the damage by 1d10 plus your proficiency bonus. You also get Spells that you can cast and prepare using your Charisma. Since you can switch them up every long rest the exact spells you take aren’t that important, but I suggest Detect Evil and Good for more godly senses and Command to put mortals in their place. Alternatively, you can use Divine Smites to add extra radiant damage to your attacks using your spell slots. It’s not lightning yet, but... wait, are we making two lightning-based lancers connected to the Indian pantheon in three builds of each other?

Paladin 3: At third level you get to become the Maid-sorry, Kouhai of Light (mixed up my vaguely sci-fi works of fiction with sprawling and nonsensical worldbuilding there) as a Oath of Ancients paladin. When you take the subclass you get Oath Spells, which are automatically prepared for you. You get Ensnaring Strike and Speak with Animals. The former isn’t that in-character, but there’s enough talking animals in Hindu mythology for the latter to just be an automatic include. Third level paladins also can Channel Divinity once per short rest in two flavors. Nature’s Wrath ensnares an enemy if they fail a strength or dexterity save (DC 8 + proficiency + charisma modifier), repeating the save each turn until they succeed. Weirdly enough, there’s no time limit, so if your magic’s strong enough and they’re weak enough it’ll just last forever. Alternatively, you can Turn the Faithless, forcing a wisdom save on all fey and fiends nearby, forcing them to flee for up to a minute and making it unable to disguise itself. One last thing; your Necrotic Shroud makes you really scary as an action once per long rest, forcing a charisma save on nearby creatures that’ll frighten them if they fail. Then, for a minute afterwards you can deal necrotic damage once per turn equal to your level.

Paladin 4: Use this Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Constitution. Even if there’s a thematic reason for it, it’s just too painful to leave you with a negative health modifier.

Paladin 5: Fifth level paladins get an Extra Attack as well as 2nd level spells! Your freebies include Moonbeam, which does damage and also forces creatures out of disguises, and Misty Step, which lets your teleport around. More in character, you can use Find Steed to qualify for the rider class with a cool cow, or Magic Weapon to make your spear a bit cooler than the rest.

Paladin 6: Your new Aura of Protection adds your charisma modifier to all allied saving throws within 10′ of you for a little grace of the goddess.

Paladin 7: Not to be outdone, your subclass also chips in with its own aura, the Aura of Warding, which gives you and everyone around you resistance to spell damage. Unlike most paladin auras, this one does not require you to be conscious.

Paladin 8: Use this ASI to round out your Strength and get cool new features at the same time thanks to the Piercer feat. Now you can re-roll a die of piercing damage you deal each turn, and critical hits with piercing weapons deal an extra die of damage!

Paladin 9: Your last level of paladin gives you third level spells, like Plant Growth and Protection from Energy. All well and good, but you also get spells that aren’t free, like Create Food and Water so you don’t have to slit your throat next time someone is thirsty and Elemental Weapon so you can finally have an electric spear.

Cleric 1: Being all sweet and motherly is nice, but we also need to be able to channel Durga when we need to. Durga’s a War god, so that feels like a good place to start. War clerics become a War Priest first thing, letting you make another weapon attack as a bonus action if you attack as your action Wisdom modifier times per long rest. Yes, this does mean you’re technically better at fighting than a paladin. Congrats. You also get another set of Spells you cast and prepare using your Wisdom. Grab the cantrips Guidance to be a bit better than everyone else, Spare the Dying to take care of them, and Thaumaturgy to actually appear godly when you need to. You also get more freebies, like Divine Favor for a worse but cheaper Elemental Weapon and Shield of Faith for a boost in AC. Technically you’re fighting in just a dress, so you’ll really need this if you’re playing to character. Also, grab Guiding Bolt so you can actually lightning some fools while helping out the party. Deal radiant damage and give the next attacker advantage.

Cleric 2: Second level clerics get Channel Divinity, and also giving us a chance to talk about what happens when you multiclass like this. You don’t get extra uses of CD, but you can use it in all the ways you get options for. So you can use your one use per short rest to instill Nature’s Wrath, Turn the Faithless, Turn Undead, or for a Guided Strike. The former forces a wisdom save on all the nearby undead, turning them if they fail. The latter adds 10 to an attack roll you make. You’re a nice person, but sometimes you just gotta get Kali on their asses, you know?

Cleric 3: Third level clerics get second level spells, like Magic Weapon which we already went over and Spiritual Weapon, which lets you forgo your not good strength score to attack with a big glowy weapon as a bonus action. If all this bloodshed is getting you down, you can also use Calm Emotions to try to end things peacefully.

Cleric 4: Use this ASI to bump up your Charisma for stronger paladin spells and auras. You also learn the Mending cantrip for some mending.

Cleric 5: At fifth level, clerics can start to Destroy Undead instead of turning them if they’re CR 1/2 or lower, destroying them instantly if they fail their save. You also get third level spells like Crusader’s Mantle for a widespread worse elemental weapon and Spirit Guardians to create those other two Parvatis for your NP. Alternatively, you can cast Life Transference to give some of your HP to your allies. It’s not quite as bad since you resist the damage, but I doubt there’s many people on your team who need health more than you do.

Cleric 6: At sixth level, clerics get a second Channel Divinity each rest, and you can use that to give out a War God’s Blessing, giving +10 to nearby ally’s attack roll.

Cleric 7: For your freebie fourth level spells you get Freedom of Movement and Stoneskin to help with your less than amazing physical stats. You can also use Aura of Life and Aura of Purity to make life around you just a bit nicer.

Cleric 8: Use your last ASI to bump up your Wisdom for better cleric spells and more cleric beatdowns with War Priest. Also, Destroy Undead kills CR 1 creatures, and you get a Divine Strike, adding 1d8 damage to a weapon’s damage once per turn.

Cleric 9: Ninth level clerics get fifth level spells, like Flame Strike and Hold Monster. It might not be a lightning bolt, but any wrath of god is a good wrath of god in my book. You can also use spells like Summon Celestial to phone a family member for some help, or Hallow to make life a bit better in a single place for 24 hours. There’s a lot of effects to pick from, so make sure you check them out on your own time.

Cleric 10: Tenth level clerics get another cantrip, so grab Resistance to buff your saves just a little bit more. You also get Divine Intervention once per day, giving you a ten percent chance of a god saving your ass when you use it. If you succeed you can’t use it again for a week.

Cleric 11: Your capstone level bumps your destroy undead up to CR 2 creatures, and you can cast sixth level spells like Heroes’ Feast. Heal people up and make it even harder for charms to effect them thanks to an empowered wisdom save, what’s not to love?

Pros:

Frontline fighters tend to be pretty bad against magic, but thanks to Parvati’s auras they’ll have a much easier time when they’re fighting near her.

Despite her stats, she’s also not that bad at fighting thanks to all her magical support. Thanks to being a war cleric she can just slap +10 onto an attack to make sure it hits, and thanks to being a paladin she can make that one hit really count. She also gets more hits per turn thanks to War Priest than either a paladin or a war cleric would get alone.

Even with that fighting and regular gish spells, she still has a varied and flexible set of spells thanks to both her classes being prep based and clerics just being good in general.

Cons:

She still only has a strength score of 14, so she can’t use heavy armor well even if she wanted to, and it also eats into her damage a bit when you’re not using smites.

When she’s not using magic she’s really easy to beat up, with barely over 100 hp and an AC of 11. She should probably be in at least chainmail if you seriously want to play as her.

Most of her martial prowess is built into features with limited uses, with Guided Strike only usable twice a short rest and War Priest four times a long rest. Also, stuff like Stoneskin and and Shield of Faith are concentration based, which isn’t one of her strong suits.

[spidersmiceandeverythingnice]

The Lovers / Long Dream of the Soul

In the Ooku, there is a room which Kama cannot enter.

TL/DR - I had some thoughts about Arjuna in the Ooku and the Lostbelt and wasn't planning on writing all of it down but I got hit by the creative bug (I hear that there's some planets in retrograde that might explain it) and I wrote like 4000 words out of nowhere.

In the Ooku, there is a room that Kama cannot enter.

The room is tucked at the edge of the floor, and there is a board across the door. Arjuna sees it and thinks that it is another dead-end. The Servants cannot open it; even Parvarti, even the nun, even the Lady Tsubone cannot figure out the mechanism to undo the lock.

When Zoe approaches it, however, all it takes is a glancing touch.

The board falls away, and the door slides open, like a sigh of relief.

Kiara Sessoyin smiles in the faint, cynical way she often does and covers her mouth with one hand. "My, my," she says, so softly that it's barely audible.

The nun does not move, and nor does she elaborate. Arjuna is immediately suspicious. He looks at Zoe's back, and begins to say, "Wait -"

But Zoe unflinchingly crosses the threshold.

Arjuna looks to the others - Mata Hari, Scheherazade, Munenori - but sees no alarm on their faces. Why can't they see how dangerous this is? There is no telling what lays beyond that dark threshold. Even though Arjuna cannot sense the slightest hint of malice or other ill intent - it cannot be that easy. Not in this place, not with this god. There is simply no other possibility than a trap.

But when Zoe enters the room, lanterns flicker to life, filing the room with a buttery, pleasant glow. There is the faint, sweet scent of flowers - perhaps some of the lanterns are perfumed, but it's not enough to overwhelm the air. Instead, it makes the space feel clean and pleasant. Inside, the room is quite spacious, and though it is plainly decorated, it is not lacking in comfort. There are blankets and pillows stacked in a corner, and there is a table laid out with food - Arjuna is shocked to see that it is not food from this era, but food from Zoe's own time.

She smiles at the sight of it.

"Look," she says, and turns her smile on Arjuna, who nearly winces. "They even got curry for us!"

Indeed, some of the dishes are recognizably Indian - not something that he would have eaten as a prince, of course. It's too simple. It's too good. This situation is wrong. Arjuna does not return her smile.

Spotting his discomfort, Zoe beckons the Servants into the room.

"We can stay here for awhile," she says, and it's phrased like a suggestion even though her voice contains a decision. "We'll be safe here. And we'll need our strength to confront Kama."

Kiara demures. "If our Master insists, surely we will be welcome to rest here?"

The phrasing strikes Arjuna as odd. If the Ooku is made from the souls of Zoe's Servants, then the Servant who made this place -

"We're safe here," Zoe says, confidently, holding out her hand as if to pull them over the threshold. "Come on - aren't you hungry?"

Servants do not get hungry, Arjuna thinks. But Zoe has never indicated that she cares about such things. That the concept of offering food to a ghost is odd - no, it would have crossed her mind. She is very deliberate, in her own way. She is choosing to treat them as people.

Arjuna thinks this is fine. In a way, it does not matter how Zoe perceives him. She is his Master, and perhaps she has even seen his true face, but they both knew that their alliance's foundation was more than a simple contract. Arjuna knows, also, that when the contract is complete here, they will return to Chaldea, and it will be like none of this has ever happened.

They cross the threshold, and sit down to eat.

All of the foods, it turns out, are Zoe's favorites.

///

The lanterns dim after they've eaten their fill - the plates disappear as if they never existed. One by one, they roll out the blankets and set out cool pillows to sleep on. Arjuna finds the atmosphere cold - perhaps he is still uncomfortable from earlier. The door to the room is closed, and there have been no attacks - but still. Still. How can Zoe fall asleep so easily, he wonders, watching as she drifts into a deep slumber. And the others? Mata Hari curls up on one of Zoe's sides, and Munenori lays stiff as a board on the other. Kiara sits up, appearing to meditate in unbroken silence. Parvarti goes dormant inside of Tsubone to let the old woman's body rest. She too, falls into a deep sleep and snores lightly.

It is only Arjuna and the storyteller left now. They glance at each other awkwardly.

After a long moment, Scheherazade says, "This room -"

She pauses, and looks at him. Then, she looks at Sessoyin.

The nun does not move. She barely seems to breathe.

Scheherazade sighs. "The Servant who made this place must have loved Zoe very much."

Arjuna frowns. "Why do you say that?"

Because it gave her a place to rest, her favorite foods? That hardly seems like love. Anyone who had met Zoe and spoken to her for more than ten minutes could have told you about the things she liked to eat and the fact that she often required, if not outright demanded, nine hours of sleep.

"Because she was the only one allowed inside," says Scheherazade. "The rest of us had to be invited."

"Perhaps that was Kama's doing." Arjuna is surprised at how petulant his voice sounds.

"But haven't you sensed it?" The storyteller looks at him, imploring. "It's so peaceful here. Too peaceful."

Arjuna feels his brows knit together. "You're saying -"

"Kama has been tracking us through the labyrinth," says Scheherazade. "But I think that she did not wish for us to come here. I think she put this room away - at the end of a hall that we should not have turned down otherwise, on a floor where we are so close to the end that Zoe may have just decided to push forward, to the very end."

Arjuna considers this. It would certainly be to Kama's benefit to keep them weak and exhausted, confused in the labyrinth. And it had been Zoe's whim that drew them down this particular corridor. And it was indeed odd to find such a peaceful place in a den of vices, especially so close to the depths where lust was liable to overwhelm -

"This place is a safe harbor," Scheherazade says, interrupting his thoughts. "That this Servant can repel Kama's entry - I think that means this room was built on a foundation of pure love."

"Hm." It doesn't make sense, not any of it. Kama is a god of love, and so how can love repel her? Arjuna turns his face away, feeling a dark, disquiet sensation in the pit of his stomach. He remembers, in a flash, a foreign land with a tiny, wicked queen. Zoe had been there, and there was a man at her side the entire time - a knight that Medb had a passing interest in, a knight who carried curses and oaths the way that Arjuna was endowed with so many blessings and gifts. Could it be that...?

Arjuna barely restrains a scowl. He does not turn back to Scheherazade, who seems to accept his silence. He listens to the storyteller quietly rolling out a mat and curling up in the most sheltered corner of the room.

Her voice, feathery soft, drifts over once more: "Will you sleep, Prince Arjuna?"

He debates his continued silence but eventually designs to answer. "No. Servants have no need of it."

Scheherazade sighs again, and then the room is entire peaceful, except for the spot where Arjuna still sits, wrapped in an icy, bitter jealousy.

///

Hours pass, or perhaps minutes. The longer Arjuna sits, the more certain he feels that he is not welcome in this place, in the room that was made for the love of Zoe. She was the Master of Chaldea, the Master of many Servants, and she had a much greater capacity for love and generosity than he did, and it was unreasonable to expect her to wait for his sake when he had barely -

No, no, and even in Chaldea. Those days when he had never allowed her to see his true face, to really know him. He was a prince among princes, isolated, high above her other Servants. He wasn't there for her. She had turned to another because he wasn't there.

Arjuna feels like he is slipping on the edge of something dark and deep. Something that he had buried or hidden long ago. How is it that the Hero of Endowment has lost the one thing that he desires most? It wasn't fair.

The oppression of the peaceful atmosphere finally drives Arjuna to his feet. He will not leave the corridor - but he can wait outside. He cannot stand it in this place for even a moment longer.

As he reaches the door, he looks back at them. Zoe is in a dream, her expression one of deepest peace. The other Servants also appear so relaxed - all but Sessoyin. The nun has not moved for hours but Arjuna cannot shake the sensation that she has been watching their every move with a hawk's eyes. Listening to everything. Almost as if she is waiting for something.

Still, even Sessoyin does not stop him from leaving the room.

Stepping over the threshold is like walking into a brick wall. Immediately, the heady scent of the labyrinth swells and floods his senses. The humid air faintly tinged with promise and pleasure seems to settle over him like a blanket. He had thought to clear his head and the irony of this atmosphere being easier to deal with is not lost on him. Perhaps it is good that Zoe never really knew him. What would she think of him if she knew his true thoughts, his true feelings? This is his own fault for being unable to stay away from her. He simply wants to stay at her side for as long as possible, even though it's all...

Arjuna takes one step forward. Then another.

A twinge at the back of his neck makes him straighten and steady - his eyes focus. Imperceptibly, there has been a shift in the air.

Arjuna extends one hand, prepared to draw his bow.

"Finally," the echo of Kama's voice floats from a distance, accompanied by a scent that is all wine, all flowers, all sex. "We haven't had a chance to properly talk yet."

Gandiva shimmers at his fingertips, just within reach.

"I have nothing to discuss with the likes of you," Arjuna says. "And if you intend to fight me -"

"I'm not interested in you that way," Kama drawls. "But I do want to get your opinion on this place. Are you enjoying yourself, o sinless one?"

Kama's avatar is an Assassin, and so she will be hard to detect, even for his eyes. Gandiva lands heavily in his palm, and he raises it before him just so.

"I thought it might be fun for you... This floor especially. You could stand to unwind a little bit." Kama's voice is closer now. "It's a shame that you and Zoe couldn't spend this time alone, but I'm not a miracle worker, you know?"

Arjuna reaches for an arrow. Lightning crackles between his fingers.

"You're awfully quiet," Kama complains, and it sounds as if she is very near now. Almost as if she is standing right before him. "What's the matter? Are you disappointed, o hero of the endowed? Tell me, what can I do to please you?"

And her voice changed as she said this, as the shadows coalesced, and then took shape, and it's shape -

Arjuna goes cold. Horror fills him, and confusion, and dread, and sorrow.

The woman standing before him is not Kama. Her smile is so familiar. He has not seen her in a lifetime. He does not relax his stance - years of training prevents it - but he cannot move. She's not really here, he tells himself, listening to the light, familiar sound of her approaching footsteps - she's not here. She has not been here, not for a thousand years. It's an illusion. A dream.

It is all a dream. All of it. Everything.

"No?" says the ghost, almost teasing. "You won't smile for me, my love? Even now?"

Arjuna does not even breathe.

The ghost merely smiles sadly. "You've grown far too serious, my love. I remember that you used to smile and laugh so easily. It breaks my heart to see you this way."

Ah. That is the reason for his sorrow. Even now, after all this time. But even so - this is Kama's trick. He realizes that he should feel angry - that he is angry - and he is going to -

"Or," the illusion says, nearly purring, "perhaps this form isn't to your taste anymore. Maybe you'd prefer something new to distract you?"

And her shape changes until -

Zoe stands before him - close enough that the arrow's tip rests just inches from her bare collarbones - close enough to reach out with one calloused hand and touch his cheek -

Arjuna releases his arrow like a bolt of lightning.

Kama goes flying, and the illusion shatters. She lands with a thud and a clatter at the end of the corridor, sprawled in a pool of blood - the dim lights from behind the papery walls flicker unsteadily as she recovers. Even such a blow as he had landed was not enough to fell a god like Kama, especially since she draws her power from the labyrinth and their sins.

Kama groans and rolls over, shuddering as she climbs to her face.

For a moment, the girl's form also flickers, and the shadow of the god who had once been appears - and then that too, is smoothed over, and Kama's face is alive with fury.

"You SHOT her?"

Arjuna nocks a second arrow.

"And if you disrespect her again in that matter," he says, "then the next one goes between your eyes."

Kama snarls. Already the wound in their chest is healing.

“You’re so ungrateful,” she spits, like a curse. “After everything I’ve done for you –”

Arjuna takes a step back. He does not fear Kama, but as long as her true power remains unclear, it’s best to stay back, as close to the hidden sanctuary as possible.

Unsteadily, Kama rises, arms wrapped around her chest, teeth bared. She is less a girl and more a beast. The passage of time is difficult to measure in the labyrinth, but it’s possible that years have passed, based on how the god’s form has changed. And there was no telling what she would become when they reached the depths of the Ooku. Arjuna wonders if he could manage a killing blow with just his arrows. It’s too risky to use a Noble Phantasm, but there are no finer archers in all the world. Surely even he –

Kama just stares at him, and then disappears with a grimace. The place where she once stood is littered with flower petals, and the scent of perfume only thickens.

Frowning, Arjuna covers his mouth and nose as Gandiva disappears. Perhaps the god has gone now – perhaps that was what had caused the oppressive atmosphere inside. If it was really true that Kama could not enter this room, then it was perfectly reasonable to imagine that the god had been stalking them this entire time. Perhaps it was all a bad dream. He has been overthinking lately, or trying not to. This place must be getting to him. He has to focus on protecting Zoe. After all, this is the reason why he was summoned to Chaldea.

Even if it would never be what he wanted, at least he could do this much.

He re-enters the room just as quietly as he left, but he finds Sessoyin awake, staring at him.

Arjuna pauses, and frowns. “I knew you weren’t sleeping.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who kept themselves alert,” says the nun, with a serene smile. “I have sensed Kama’s presence for some time. The closer we get to the inner sanctum, the more intense it becomes. It’s deliciously fascinating.”

Another odd phrase. Sessoyin certainly is strange. Discomforting is a good word for it. Arjuna knows that Zoe is the only one he can really trust in this place. Sessoyin, he thinks, is the link that will lead them to Kama. She has been unusually attuned to the god’s movements and whims, even more so than Parvarti. Instead of dwelling on it, he pulls the last set of blankets from the corner and moves into the open space of the room.

“Did she say anything to you?” Sessoyin asks. She is so straightforward and innocent in her tone. It makes Arjuna’s skin crawl. “You never know. It could be a clue.”

“She came to make a nuisance of herself,” Arjuna replies, settling in. “I landed a blow, and she ran but I doubt I did any serious damage.”

“Hmm.” Sessoyin closes her eyes once more. “I hope that you enjoy your dream, o triumphant prince.”

Arjuna scowls, but does not otherwise react to what is obviously some kind of bizarre taunt. He looks over to see Zoe, to assure himself that she is still here.

In all this time, Zoe has not opened her eyes and seems to have barely stirred. There is a faint smile on her face as she dreams.

Arjuna lays there in the dark, peaceful room, and does not sleep a wink.

///

Eventually the dream comes to an end.

One by one, they disappear. The labyrinth disappears, and then they are standing in the garden courtyard that they had first arrived in. First is Parvarti, at least freed from her human vessel, and then Munenori, and then Mata Hari and the storyteller. And then Zoe turns to Arjuna, and smiles. Her outline has faded. Unlike the Servants, she emits no unearthly glow, no shower of sparks. She is simply untethered to this world, this broken time. She is returning back to the place she belongs.

As he now must.

Even so… I feel…

Arjuna looks away from her smile. “It seems I’ll be last this time.”

Zoe grins, but seems to think better of it. Her expression softens with concern. “You seem upset. But it's not like we won't see each other again."

Something is wrong. Arjuna feels it in his bones. In his fractured heart. The sky is darkening. The stars seem very close, somehow. The garden is fading. Everything is fading, and Arjuna is –

“I don’t want to go,” he blurts out. He covers his mouth, his face, with both hands, but the words feel like they are being physically torn out of his throat. Like he’ll die if he doesn’t say it. Like he’s possessed by whatever dark thing has been growing in him since the moment he set foot in the Ooku.

Zoe pales and steps forward. "Arjuna."

“I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you. I want to go to Chaldea. I don’t want to leave.”

But that makes less sense, as he says it. Hadn’t he already been in Chaldea? That was why Zoe had summoned him here. He was her loyal Servant, her partner –

Zoe reaches for him, touching her fingertips to his wrist. She was a ghost, barely clinging to this world.

“I’ll come back to get you,” she promises. She seems to understand all the things that don’t make sense, but she’s already too far away. Her voice is the strongest thing about her, frantically assuring him. “It’s okay. Just – just stay where you are. Wherever you are, I’ll come and get you. And then you can stay in Chaldea. Just wait for me, and don’t go anywhere. I’ll come back. I will.”

And then she is gone, and the garden is gone, and Arjuna is among the stars.

For a long moment, nothing happens. And the moment drags, and stretches, and something is wrong, and his heart is broken, and he is afraid, afraid, afraid of what, he doesn’t know.

But it is dark all around him, and inside of him, and then –

There is a gap between the stars. At once, he knows – this signature, the pulse of divine power like a throbbing heartbeat – and Kama takes shape, pulling herself out of the sky. She floats into his face, and her smile is cruel.

Arjuna cannot move. Even if he wanted to reach for Gandiva, it would have been impossible. The Singularity was gone. Zoe was gone. There was nothing left. Nothing. It was all… empty.

“So,” Kama asks, sweet as poison. “Did you enjoy yourself in the end?”

Arjuna cannot speak. His mind is moving, and there is so much that he now understands. Everything, everything.

“Cat got your tongue?” asks Kama, sardonic. “How disappointing. I guess without Zoe’s humanity to anchor you, you really don’t have a personality. Shame. What a waste of a pretty face.”

He understands. And it doesn’t matter. Nothing does.

“You’re just lucky she likes you more than that nun,” says Kama, snickering. “She didn’t even question why you appeared. She was so happy to see you. Maybe if you’d been more proactive, she would have even loved you instead of that other guy.”

And he’s forgetting already. He forgets the face of the storyteller, the swordsman, the brave woman who mastered the labyrinth. And Zoe. But he doesn’t want to forget Zoe. He loves Zoe. He wants to hold on to that. He can’t forget, even though none of it matters in the end.

“I was never in Chaldea,” he says, and his voice is far away to his own ears. He is in pieces, and it is all draining out of him. All of that darkness and fear, like so much dust in the wind. All of his love, and his pride, and everything that matters, shriveling up like ashes, and gone. He is clean, and empty, and he understands everything.

“Of course not,” Kama replies, smug. “You were always too proud to answer a summons from a mere mortal. Even the precious Master of your heart, the one you claim to love so very much.” Her smile becomes a snarl. “And you couldn’t bear to even look at an imperfect god like me.”

And then she is bright, wicked and cold. “But in the end, it’s thanks to your arrogance. You allowed me to escape, so that I could do all of this in the first place. Even if Zoe and the others did manage to defeat me, I guess bringing you out here was the least I could do to thank you. Say whatever you like about me but I always repay my debts.”

The sky greys, and even the stars are disappearing. Even Kama is fading away.

“So, seriously, tell me – did you enjoy your dream?”

Arjuna closes his eyes. He thinks – Zoe – and – then –

///

There is a blue sky.

The sky is always blue. It has been, and will be. Just that endless expanse over the world which is now full of flowers. The sky will darken when the world ends.

“Ah, Almighty,” says a warm, untrustworthy voice. The robed figure beside him has been there for some time, but he cannot remember how long, or why they had come, or what their original purpose was. In any case, it does not matter. The cycle will begin anew soon. “You closed your eyes for such a long time, I thought you might have actually fallen asleep this time.”

The monk approaches, and the air stirs. The wind whispers over them like a gentle touch. Like the touch of a loved one, who tries her best to comfort you when you are afraid.

…What a strange thought.

It is gone. Like it never existed.

“What did you dream of?” asks the monk with two faces.

He does not remember.