#and so help me god those other scouts will always remain a complete mystery who has time for detailing them

[msommers]

know, for bad, companions, and exit for riya, meredith and jorina!

here i am days late bc of my brain simply not working // oc asks: relationships edition

Know: How well does your OC know themself—their wants, their goals, their motivations? Do they engage in any sort of self-reflection? Is there anything about themself they willfully ignore?

RIYA — she would love to return to the days when the only self-reflection she took part in was looking into the mirror, because she's been looking inside quite often recently and is becoming increasingly aware of how much she was willing to ignore just to stay in her happy little bubble. she used to have very clear, simple desires and goals that drove her each day, and now she has no idea where she's going, how she should be feeling, or what to do about either of those things. she's in her "fucked around, found out. now i'm lost and hurting" era

MEREDITH — for being a big political player, she’s kind of an open book. her motivations and goals are clear, always have been and always will be. she has a solid grasp on who she is and hasn't had a reason yet to hide away any part of herself. even the grief and rage that still linger years down the line are things she never ignored, just turned into motivators.

JORINA — ignored many parts of herself for the better part of a decade just to ensure she was able to provide for her family without any distractions getting in the way. probably only started some soul-searching after the crush on aleksi developed because that kickstarted the "wait, do i actually have and want desires and interests outside of working???" thoughts. absolutely dreadful times for her, digging into her own brain like that. wouldn't recommend

For Bad: Is there anyone who had an undeniable negative impact on your OC’s life? How did your OC deal with that change? Have they been able to move on?

RIYA — victor’s murderer i guess lmfao nobody else has had a specifically negative impact on her, but that person really took an entire sledge hammer to her heart and life so congrats to them. hand wave to the vigilant campaign so far to answer how she’s handling the changes and moving on

MEREDITH — the obvious but still worth saying answer here is rendon howe. my guy left layers of lasting trauma and struggles with trust/rage/faith, things that meredith is still trying to handle a decade into the future. there's also a level of paranoia that he so kindly gifted her. i think she's moved on as far as one can after such horrid events, y'know. the vengeance was claimed, the healing was done, and the crippling sorrow only creeps in on rare occasions. something about her relationship with nathaniel definitely helped bandage some lingering wounds, but i'm not gonna dive down that rabbit hole rn.

JORINA — i mean. also rendon howe because of the alienage "purge", but that wasn't just the single offender. i've talked So Much about how jorina dealt with those changes (becoming the provider of the family, losing her childhood, ignoring her grief/desires/etc for years) so i'm not gonna do it again, but yikes. it took her a long time but she does begin to move on during her time with the inquisition! it's a horrible journey of having to finally let in the grief of all that she lost and shoved down for so long, but it's a necessary one.

Companions: Is your OC part of an adventuring group? A band of travelers? A guild, a team, a crew? What's the group dynamic, and how does your OC feel about their companions?

RIYA — your favorite no wisdom mage of the warden squad. riya’s currently in the middle of having some very mixed feelings about the grey warden order as a whole, but enjoys her little assigned group well enough for how much time she's had with them so far. despite my goofs about a certain dynamic within the group, i do think she likes them all. they are so far removed from the usual type of cast she'd have around her, but the circumstances are just right to allow for that kind of thing to not matter a single bit and to encourage her getting to know them. this would get annoyingly long if i went into detail about each member but i'll say her strongest feelings are for cian and leo, though undoubtedly that'll evolve given time with the other two members.

MEREDITH — oh, the origins crew. a handful of the people there knew they were only working together out of necessity, while she genuinely grew to adore and respect others. meredith wasn't afraid to show her judgement of those who argued her morals, acts of good, and main goals, which led to a few strained dynamics. too lazy to run down everybody, but: she would have banished oghren if he wasn't good at killing things. :// funniest positive relationship she built was with zevran because who would've thought the uncompromising honorable noble would take a liking to the whole assassin who tried to take her out?? insanity. this doubles as a note for myself but i need to revisit the game to determine meredith's dynamic with wynne, because since solidifying her character more i don't know if the strong focus on her noble rights/responsibilities would earn her approval lol

JORINA — hey i'm gonna keep it so real and say yeah, she was part of a specific inquisition scouting squad for a while, but nobody except aleksi has any detail at all. literally none of them. they're faceless goons just there to toss into situations for relationship moments. group dynamic is that everyone wanted to shake aleksi's hand for being the one brave enough to start befriending jorina first because it helped her ease off of being such a hardass with the stern expression and rigorous schedule.

Exit: Has your OC ever had someone important leave their life in a way that was unremarkable, unintentional, or clumsy? How do they feel about it? Is there any chance they'll meet again?

RIYA — i don’t think so, no. the closest could maybe fall to her brother, sebastian, in how he left the family home for the chantry (unremarkable in the way that they all knew it was coming, it wasn’t a big deal for anybody except daddy loren who would’ve still been upset about his kid lmao), but he would still show up on the rare occasion. riya hardly cared, he had turned into a preaching prat that really harshed the vibes every time he was around and she preferred her other brothers anyhow. they used to get along back when they were both directionless and envious of the other brothers, but that’s a hard feeling to remember after all he’s said to and about riya. always a chance of meeting again, i suppose 🤷

MEREDITH — someone important? ser gilmore might be the closest to this in the way that his death was unremarkable to most, he was just another unfortunate soul to die at the hands of howe's treachery (in a more personal way, she feels, after learning of his abduction and torture). she allowed herself the small hope that perhaps he’d made it out once she’d fled highever, but that became gnawing guilt after discovering his fate. their bond had been strong, and she'd spent so long picturing what it'd be like to have him at her side in the future, but then that future came and all she had left of him was feelings of heartache and longing. super not gonna see him again after what happened lol

JORINA — can’t think of anybody on this one. probably unnamed members of the inquisition who don’t matter to her story, just people who decided to dip because it got too difficult or frightening to be a part of that.

[askdjphantasmagloria]

Smooth Operator (Rewritten)

So, yeah. I decided to rewrite Smooth Operator because I didn’t like how it was written. Here’s how I think it should’ve played out. I hope you like it!

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

It was dark, cold, and frightful. A lock of red hair whooshes by as a hooded figure rushes through the bushes. They had just had an encounter with a terrifying creature and they were trying to get out of the forest as fast as they could. Little did they know that they would soon stumble upon Queen Poppy and the other TrollsTopians, who were getting ready to play a wonderful round of Glitter Ball.

“Ok, for my team, my third first pick will be... Dante!” Poppy smiled as she pointed towards the Classical ambassador. Honored to be chosen, Dante smiled and bowed to the crowd before floating over to join the queen and the rest of her teammates.

The hooded figure then heard the voices and began to creep closer, their eyes squinting as they tried to remain mysterious. Slowly lifting up their hood, a scarlet red mustache began to appear...

Val Thundershock was also on the Glitter Ball field, assembling her team for the game to come. But then she took notice of the mysterious troll in the shadows and, like always, began to be suspicious. Who was this troll? What did they want? Were they a threat to the society that she and the other ambassadors worked hard to build up? “And my fourth first pick will be... the mysterious figure in the shadows.” She concluded, motioning to the figure. Confused, everybody turned around to look at the stranger that had been eavesdropping on their conversations. Knowing they had been spotted, the troll stepped forward and slowly took off their hood to reveal... my word! It was the seductive siren, the sultry-silked, the devilishly divine god of romance himself... Chaz Deveaux!

Chaz calmly smiled at the crowd, seemingly not alarmed at all by the fact that his cover was just blown by a keenly-eyed Val. Why should he be afraid? He knew what TrollsTopia was all about due to the fliers that Poppy had sent out a few weeks ago. This was finally his chance to find a family! People who would accept him for who he was! No more running, no more hiding, no more drowning in a sea of loneliness and resentment due to his ex-boyfriend dumping him for something that he couldn’t control. It all ended today.

The crowd gasped along with Poppy, who couldn’t believe that one of the bounty hunters whom she had encountered back when Queen Barb had her famous world tour managed to find their way into her beloved city! “Chaz? The Smooth Jazz troll?” She asked, in complete disbelief.

“That’s my name, darling.” Chaz calmly responded, raising an eyebrow in a curious manner. “Why are you so surprised? Was it not you who summoned me with this flier?” He asked, pulling out the piece of paper. Poppy gently took it from his hands, giving it a thorough read before her face lit up with glee. “Oh, you found it! I was worried that we’d have to use one of our scouts to track you down ourselves, but this is way easier! Yes, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. Our city is expanding but I’ve noticed a lack in diversity of music. I was wondering if maybe... you would like to join our entourage? Come live with us in TrollsTopia, Chaz!” Poppy smiled, her eyes sparkling.

Val, extremely confused by Poppy’s optimism, got in between the two of them and looked the pink cupcake-lover in the eye. “Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Poppy, aren’t you going to tell us who this is? Where did he come from, what’s with his hair, and why does he have two tigers following him around?” She asked, motioning to the two tigers that were sitting besides Chaz.

“I am Chaz Deveaux. I’m half-Classical and half-Pop. My hair is naturally like this, but I do make my own conditioners, shampoos, and lotions out of natural ingredients such as Gigglefruit juice and Sparkle Berries. Also, when you say tigers, you mean Saturn and Jupiter? These are my pet tigers. They’re the only thing I have left of my tribe after... the war. Everybody I knew and loved was stolen from me. Everybody who was still alive, died shortly after. I’m the only survivor...” Chaz explained, tears coming to his eyes as he talked about his life story.

“Aww, you poor thing! What an ordeal...” Poppy frowned. She couldn’t believe that any troll would have to go through such a thing. Let alone a guy who was seemingly so sweet and charming on the outside.

“I’m sorry... talking about it gets me all emotional. Yes, I would love to join TrollsTopia. Wherever shall I stay? You didn’t exactly mention a Smooth Jazz section in your poster the last time I checked and while I would love to reside in Classical Crest or just stay with you Pop trolls, none of those areas properly reflect... me. I need something genuine.” Chaz mentioned, brushing a lock of his hair to the side.

“Ah, yes. We don’t really have a place like that at the moment... but thankfully, my ambassadors and I are known for acting on a whim. Give us about an hour, and we’ll surprise you!” Poppy smiled, gathering the ambassadors and leading them away.

One hour later...

Poppy led Chaz along the grassy path as carefully as she could. The former bounty Hunter was blindfolded and as shown from her experience with the Trolls’ piñata festivities, being blindfolded could pose a bit of a threat to everyday life due to the one who’s eyes are being covered losing their sense of sight and therefore not being able to see what they’re doing or where they’re stepping. “A little farther. A little farther! Listen, Chaz, it breaks our hearts that you don’t feel like you belong. So, we’ve been working on a solution! I called up Barb and asked her if we could use that tiny little beach that she was going to give you back when you were hunting us down, and she said yes! If you would just stand right here...” she said, before stretching out her arms to reveal Chaz’s new home. “TADA!”

Chaz opened his eyes and gasped, his face lighting up with nothing but pure joy at the sight of his house. It was gorgeous. A beach condo made entirely out of what seemed to be marble was waiting for him along the beautiful sands of TrollsTopia’s beach. He could see everything, including the ocean stretching over the horizon. Tears began to well up in his eyes. “Poppy... it’s- it’s beautiful. Thank you...” he whispered, smiling softly.

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet! Come on, let’s go inside!” Poppy giggled, opening the door. Once they were inside, Chaz could immediately see the luxury. A grand fireplace with a picture of him mounted over it, a soft and cuddly fur rug that was just perfect for him to swoon somebody over, comfortable plush chairs that came with built-in cup holders for the jazz troll to hold his many cups of grape wine, a grand kitchen for him to prepare his meals with only the finest ingredients (courtesy of Classical Crest), a deluxe bathroom with everything a troll needs to keep themselves tidy, and a bedroom that was all romantic-themed.

“Wow... thank you, Poppy. I know I haven’t exactly been the best to you during Queen Barb’s world tour, but I was only doing what she said because I didn’t want my music to die out! If she didn’t offer that tiny little island, I would have never even helped her in the first place!” Chaz sighed, facepalming.

“Aww, it’s ok, Chaz! You’ll always have a family here. Your days of being alone are over. Bygones are bygones. After all, my people aren’t exactly squeaky clean either. We all have our flaws. Nobody’s perfect.” Poppy comforted Chaz, giving him a hug. As he hugged back though, Poppy began to internally cringe. She didn’t REALLY believe that Chaz had changed from World Tour! How could somebody who used to EAT other trolls change in the blink of an eye?! Surely he had to be faking it!

The next day...

Chaz was a little crushed, but then he shook his head and smiled. “That’s alright... I suppose I could get used to the new paint job. It does look kind of pretty...” he laughed, trying to remain positive about the situation like he always has. He then gasped as he saw his beautiful beach littered with spray cans and other garbage. “AH! My beach...” he frowned, his heart dropping another few feet.

“Sorry, Mr. Chaz. Queen Poppy never implemented a trash disposal system, so we had no choice but to dump all of our things here. I hope you don’t mind.” Priscilla piped up, the children leaving back to their pods. After that whole mess was dealt with, Chaz decided that maybe a trip into town would make him feel better. He waved hello to any trolls that would walk by, but they all seemed... scared of him. Some would nervously wave back while others would scream and run away. He then overheard a few Classical trolls speaking to each other about Chaz’s music. “Have you ever heard anything so repulsive? Smooth jazz... what a disgrace to our genre. It’s barely a step above lounge music!” One of them said.

“Pip pip to that!” Another one agreed. “The way he obsesses over his appearance is... nasty, to put it the nicest.” A techno troll whispered. Chaz couldn’t believe it. Nobody really liked him. They were only pretending to be nice to him because Poppy said so! Now Chaz didn’t feel positive anymore. Why should he? He was in a world where it didn’t matter what he did. Everyone would always see him as a savage.

“Hey, Chaz! Are you enjoying your stay in TrollsTopia?” Poppy asked, completely oblivious to the situation. A new feeling began to bubble up in Chaz’s chest. All he could see was red. He was tired of being mistreated. It was time to fight back. “That’s it... I have had enough... enough of the stupid pranks! Enough of the mockery! AND MOST OF ALL ENOUGH OF YOU, POPPY!” Chaz growled, letting his frustration and anger merge together as his hair began flowing like a siren’s hair would when she was angry. His hair began to move like tentacles, grabbing the trolls that were around him and holding them up against a nearby rock.

“Chaz! What are you doing?!” Poppy asked, squirming in an attempt to get free. “You think I’m an idiot? I know how you guys REALLY feel about me. All I ever wanted was to be accepted. I just wanted to be loved! But you guys keep treating me like garbage... all because of something I can’t control. If you want a monster so badly, then by all that’s Trolly, I’ll be that monster!” He growled, using his hair to thrash the trolls around.

“Yo, yo, yo! I finally found the red velvet blanket, guys! Would you believe this was the last one on the shelf? What a lucky break!” Synth cheered as he walked in. He gasped, dropping his gift as he saw what was going on. “WHAT THE BARNACLES IS GOING ON HERE?!” He yelled, feeling scared and confused. Chaz turned around, smiling evilly. “Another one? No problem. I can take another.” He laughed, before he began to play his saxophone again.

Surprisingly, Synth was not affected whatsoever! “Uh... what?” He asked, tilting his head before leaning in closer to hear Chaz’s music better. But no matter how much Chaz played, Synth was simply too oblivious to be hypnotized! He smiled at him, placing his hands at his hips. “Cool music, bro! Lemme show you how I play now!” He said, a techno beat beginning to play as water shot up from the ground. Synth formed it into a gigantic water orb and shot it at Chaz, trapping the smooth jazz troll in a ball of sick beats. The ball then collapsed, sending Chaz flying into the distance. The smooth jazz troll tried to launch himself back to Synth to land a punch, but the water had made his hair unable to stretch. Saturn and Jupiter, seeing their master rocket into the sky, emerged from their hiding spots to chase after him. Synth had just saved all of TrollsTopia from Chaz’s rage.

As she caught her breath, Poppy engulfed Synth in a huge hug. “SYNTH! Thank goodness! That was amazing, how did you do that?” She asked. Her eyes lighting up with joy. “You mean that giant orb thing? Oh, I was born with those sorts of powers. I wonder why the music had no effect on me...” Synth thought, before Meadow’s shiny new flower caught his attention. “GIRL! You shine like a glowstick! I could stare at you for hours!” He laughed, swimming towards her as Poppy shook her head and smiled.

“Classic Synth...”

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of TrollsTopia, Chaz fell into an area that was surrounded by marshmallow potatoes... Marshtatoes? He groaned, dusting himself off as he looked upwards. A sinister grin illuminated in the dark, an adorably high-pitched voice ringing out in the silence. “Well hello there... what brings a handsome guy like you to a place like this?” It asked.

“Ugh, I’m glad you asked. I just got kicked out by a walking fish stick. Who are you, anyway?” Chaz asked, raising an eyebrow. From the shadows emerged the mistress of mischief herself, Marshtato Mary. “Me? Call me Mary. And you, my devilishly handsome disciple, may just be the key to helping me get my revenge on those filthy little elves.” She smiled.

“Revenge, you say? Well then...” Chaz smirked, walking closer to her.

“I’d love to join your cause.”

The End

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

[scribeofmorpheus]

Mark of the Wolf Part 7 (Derek Hale x Reader)

Catch up here!

A/N: So I take major liberties with the lore of transferring memories between werewolves in this chapter, but it’s still bordering the line of the established lore in the series so... But now I can happily say that the mystery of who the Order are and what they want is slowly unravelling. Now about that slow burn... (Also when you read the dream state part where the reader's eyes change colour, that’s just the eye colour of her inner wolf).

Note: I had previously described Derek’s eye’s as being Hazel but I was corrected and was informed that they are in fact Green, so I edited the eye colour descriptions.

Words: 3660 (this chapter was long!)

Warnings: Violence, Past Trauma??? That’s it I guess.

(gif isn’t mine)

"I'm like you. I'm a werewolf."

The words rang through the room as all four sets of eyes were on you.

Scott's face was scrunched up in thought, he had found your reveal to be quite the shocker. You guessed he was probably unsettled by the fact he had never sensed the werewolf in you. Not that many could. Even your own family had a hard time sensing your other half. They had said it was because the wolf had remained buried, never once surfacing to take to its own unique scent and feel.

Stiles and Liam seemed the least shocked. If anything Stiles seemed to find some credibility in your being a werewolf. After all, just as Liam put it, the Order hunts other supernatural creatures, not humans.

Derek, however, had an unreadable expression on his face. It bothered you somewhat. You didn't want him to look at you with that same level of distrust and caution as he used to. You had hoped things would be different after the attack on the clinic.

You waited in deafening silence as the boys mulled over your words. Until finally Derek spoke.

"How did you know the sage would work?" Derek asked, to your delight he regarded you no difference on account of your secret being made known. You felt more at ease for some reason.

"I'm not sure. I just knew," You told him, surprised by his choice in question.

"How come we couldn't sense you?" Liam asked, bringing the focus back to your newly revealed secret.

"You and I both know the wolf form and the human form can have two very distinct scents. Also, I'm what you call an 'afflicted,'" You said in a hushed voice, the word afflicted rolled off your tongue with a slight sting to it. You always hated that word.

"What is that?" Scott asked, finally breaking from his stupor.

Derek's brow was drawn together as he wore his signature scowl whenever he was deep in thought.

"I thought they were a myth. My mother told me stories as a kid… the Afflicted are pure born shape-shifters who can't shift," Derek looked at you with what you assumed was pity in his eyes.

"Yahtzee," you said sardonically, "give this man a prize."

"That's a thing?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah, my mother would tell me these stories about werewolves being cursed to stay in their human form forever. To be honest, I always thought it was just a scary story to keep me from turning outside a full moon," Derek had a fond look on his face, the memory brought about a bitter-sweet touch to his chiselled features.

"It's actually a recessive gene. My family are one of the last few remaining carriers. It only runs in pure-blooded werewolf families. My brothers and sisters can shift, my mother is the carrier and I'm the one with the genetic predisposition, that is, assuming lycanthropy works the same way as gene expression," You said brazenly, a solemn smile gracing your lips.

Stiles' eyes went wide as he flailed about trying to open one of the leather bound books he had in his possession. His actions caused quite the ruckus and you had to stop yourself from laughing at his goofy behaviour.

"Okay so on my way here, I started thinking about the name they gave the hunted:  Ex Alia, right. And it's an odd phrase because combined Ex Alia actually means 'from the other' and that can also mean 'apart from', right."

"Stiles, we've been over this," Derek said running his fingers over his thick eyebrows.

Stiles mimed Derek's words back at him in a comical way, "If you would just let me finish!"

Derek held up his hands and folded them over his chest, eyeing Stiles intensely for the loud tone he had shouted at him with.

"Thank you," Stiles said condescendingly, "Now, what if it's in reference to werewolves who are apart from their kin. Like for example..."

"Werewolves or other shapeshifters who can't shift," Scott finished Stiles' thought.

Even though Stiles argument made sense to you, you couldn't help but fight against his logic, "Even if that were true, they still went after Alex, and he could shift," you rebutted.

"Yes, but you said it's genetic. So what if Alex was a carrier?" Stiles rebuffed.

You went silent. Stiles had a point.

You knew Alex since childhood, he was a third generation werewolf. Your family had a close relationship with other legacy families, that's how you met. It was completely plausible for Alex to be a carrier for the same recessive gene you expressed.

You were startled from your lamentation when you heard a booming knock come from the bunker door. Everyone in the room exchanged questioning glances as they silently asked each other if they knew who it could be.

Stiles drew the short straw and offered himself up to go and see who it was. You were still standing there, numb from everything that had transpired.

You heard Stiles pull open the heavy metal door of the bunker, mutter a quick "Nope," like he was rejecting Girl Scout cookies and shut it behind him before he came to re-join the half circle again.

"Who was it?" Liam asked.

"No one important," Stiles said coolly as he waved the question away and wore an upturned frown. It was certainly a dubious look. Derek wasn’t convinced as he raised a brow at him.

A second later, Derek and Scott's heads snapped to the doors direction just as the door flew off its hinges. Their claws and fangs protruding outwards, their wolfish features taking shape.

Liam was already fully shifted, his nostrils flaring as he let out snarls for breaths. The energy coming off him was powerful and angry, making you instinctively take a few steps back.

All three of them lined up in front of you and Stiles, their eyes creating a gradient from red to yellow to blue. Their animalistic growls echoing through the room.

A set of footsteps descended the steps in a relaxed, languid manner. They belonged to a handsome faced man, slightly older than everyone else in the room, with the same dramatic streak as Derek. He smiled wickedly as he opened his arms in a warm mocking embrace, his head held up high like some entitled prince. His own blue eyes glowing with the same intensity as Derek.

Derek, Liam and Scott retracted their fangs and claws and dropped their defensive stances as soon as they registered who it was that had just punched the door in.

Apparently, the man making the needlessly dramatic entrance wasn't a threat.

"Anyone ever tell you it's rude to shut the door in people’s faces?" The man asked Stiles in a low threatening voice. His clawed fingers dusting off none existent dust from his leather jacket.

"Yeah, well I was also told not to invite homicidal maniacs into any enclosed spaces with me, so..." Stiles shot back.

"Peter, what are you doing here?" Derek asked with a hint of familiarity.

"Why dear nephew, I heard your call."

"Okay who called the homicidal maniac?" Stiles said as he looked over at Derek, Scott and Liam with exasperation.

"He meant the howl," Liam told Stiles.

"Oh, this is just great," you sighed, plopping yourself down on the stool where Liam had previously sat. "More werewolves."

Stiles just patted you back and gave a weak, "There, there," in place of consolation.

"So what have I missed?" Peter said with a large smirk on his clean-shaven face.

The next hour was spent catching Peter upon what was currently plaguing Beacon Hills and your life.

Peter stopped Scott from talking with a single look when he heard you had repressed the memories from the night Alex died. He had an idea, you could read it on his face.

He came and stood a few inches away from you, looking down at you like you were some mathematical theorem to be solved. He held up one finger after much silence and ushered Derek closer to you.

"Derek, come here a second," he said. Derek obliged but made sure to drag his feet a little so Peter didn't think Derek was open to being summoned.

"I hear you have amnesia," Peter directed the statement to you, you just stared up at him and didn't reply. "You're a werewolf, right? So that means even though you can't shift, the same rules apply to you?"

"In a way. I can heal faster than humans, my sense of smell is better and in some cases, I can hear better, but without the ability to shift those powers are significantly weaker to that of actual shapeshifters. But… yes, the same rules apply. Wolf's-bane is still toxic to me, I still feel the pull of the moon, and my abilities are magnified when I'm in a pack. Why do you ask?" You were curious as to where Peter was going with this.

"Just making sure this won't kill you," Peter just gave an innocent smile before he extended his claws and dug them into yours and Derek's neck, linking you to one another, using himself as a conduit. Before you were lost in the spiral of memory and shared consciousness, you heard Stiles say "Oh my God!" in shock and Scott shout Peter's name in an alpha male voice.

It was too late though, you and Derek were already linked and pulling you out now would just cause more harm than good.

***

It felt like you were free falling through an endless white space. Incoherent chattering and sounds playing all at once like someone had overlapped several songs onto a single track.

You were lost in the cacophony of your mind in disarray, until you felt Derek's hands link with yours, pulling you from your confusion.

"Where are we?" You asked him.

Derek looked around at the white empty space, it was like staring at a blank canvas that had no end. His brows knit together for a moment before he realised what was going on.

"We're in your mind, Peter linked us in a shared dream state. Werewolves can sometimes share memories by a bite or a scratch. I think in this case he figured you couldn't grow out your claws or fangs, so he used himself as a proverbial telephone cord."

You were familiar with how the sharing of memories worked. Your father had done something similar with your older brother Markus when he had passed on the mantle of Alpha to him.

Just as you were reliving the memory, the blank canvas of your mind bled through with colour and voices and suddenly a clear image of that day began to replay as though you had just stepped back in time.

Your brother was lying in the centre of a field by the meadow you had spent much of your childhood watching your sibling’s roughhousing.

Markus was writhing in pain as his eyes shimmered between his former vibrant gold to the frightful red they were now. Your mother, sister and younger brother were standing alongside you as you all watched your father transfer his powers onto Markus.

"What is this?" Derek asked

"The Markolf tradition," you said with a hint of pride at your legacy and sorrow for the pain your brother was enduring.

Your brother let out a howling scream, you winced. so did Derek.

You continued, "We differ from most werewolf families because we have the ability to pass on the mantle of alpha when we are no longer fit enough to carry it. That’s partially where we got our name from. Markolf is old High German, it combines the words ‘border’ and ‘wolf’ because we aren’t like most werewolf families. The transferral is painful and can only be done during a full moon. If none of the pack contests, and if the progeny is strong enough, then passing on of the mantle is usually successful."

"I've never heard of this..." Derek was perplexed and in awe of what he saw unfolding.

"My great-grandfather was what you call a True Alpha, he discovered it was possible to pass on the gift by focusing his power through a bite. However, in doing so, you also relinquish most of your strength, making you considerably weaker."

Derek shook himself of his astonishment and tugged at your hand to make you face him, "I think I know why Peter did what he did. If you can't remember what happened to you, then maybe I can. Earlier, you were having a nightmare, I think it was about the night Alex dies."

You squinted your eyes at him, not having any memory of having had a nightmare earlier, "I don't remember having a nightmare."

"It must be your subconscious protecting you from the trauma. All I need you to do is just think about that night. Close your eyes and picture it, what's the first thing that comes to mind?"

You closed your eyes and let your mind wander.

***

Derek kept his eyes on you while yours stayed shut. He held onto your hand to be your anchor, your guide. He watched silently as the canvas began to bleed through with new colours and images and sounds again.

It started with a laugh.

A sweet, sing-song laugh that tugged at Derek's heartstrings. He turned in the direction of the laugh and saw a younger version of you. A version from the past. He couldn't help but think how beautiful you looked with a bright eye-creasing smile and a glow to your skin from the beams of light falling against your body from the moon.

Derek's breath hitched in his throat as he saw the younger version of you wrapped in another man’s arms. A strong man’s arms. Alex, no doubt.

Alex tucked a strand of your longer hair behind an ear. There were accents of playful red streaks hidden amongst the darker parts of your hair. He enjoyed your vibrancy and so did Derek.

You had seemed a different person in the memory. More carefree and easier with a smile, it had managed to coax an unexpected smile from Derek too.

Alex whispered sweet nothings in your ear as the camp sight materialised behind you, and soon so did the trees and the speckled night sky.

Derek couldn't help it when his jaw tightened and his eyes filled with what held the familiar tang of jealousy. He didn't understand where this feeling was coming from, but he was sure it had to do with the fact the younger, longer-haired version of you was looking longingly into the eyes of another man.

Was Derek jealous of a dead man?

Derek grew annoyed at his boyish behaviour, he was here to help you uncover your memories, not be yearning after a version of the woman whose hand he held.

Once the memory had been constructed it was time for Derek to relive it for you while you kept your eyes shut.

The memory shifted from its pleasant sweetness into a slightly more darkened tone. Derek saw the younger version of you having an argument with Alex. Your face frowned and your eyes held a stubborn conviction, Alex appeared more worn out, as though he was slowly realising he was losing the fight:

"I just don't understand why you would take the job in Vancouver without talking with me about it…" Alex said with gloom.

"Alex, I don't want to fight about this again. It's not every day that someone gets offered such a desirable job straight out of university!" The younger version of you shouted, tired of arguing about the same thing for the past month with Alex. "You know I couldn't pass it up."

"But you did so without talking it over with me first. It's like you're using the job as an excuse to end things with me. I know we haven't been ourselves in a while now, I know we fight a lot but--"

"Alex, please stop. We can talk about this when we get back home."

Derek noticed that your smile began to falter as you heard the words the younger version of you shouted at Alex. He squeezed your hand slightly to let you know he was still with you. That you weren't alone.

The memory grew darker still.

The night was less illuminated and the moon was obscured by rain clouds. In the memory, you were holding a hand over your mouth to keep your ragged pants as inaudible as possible, hunkered behind a sage bush as Alex slowly bled out a stone’s throw away from you.

Alyster -the man in the green robe from before- was scanning the forest, he was searching for you. His eagle eyes still every bit as disconcerting as before. The compass around his neck slowly losing its green glow.

The blonde archer from before came to his side, "Alyster," she called out, "the girl, can you sense her?"

Alyster shook his head, his red hair weightless against the howling wind, "Her aura has been shielded from the Oculus," his bony fingers clasped the compass around his neck, "its ability is being obscured." Alyster pointed at a burning cluster of sage close by.

The archer grabbed a hand full of sage growing on one of the many bushes closest to her and crumpled it in her hands with distaste, "And the boy?" the archer asked, glancing down at a slowly dying Alex.

"He carries the magic in him as well, but the girl’s was stronger. She is the one we need if we hope to keep the Mother Tree fuelled. I fear, she may be the last." Alyster glanced down at his arm. A tattoo made up of a strange marking etched onto his forearm, previously hidden under his green robe.

When Alex finally drew his last breath, a green mist came into view around his body, the mist was drawn towards the tattoo, embedding itself into it. The tattoo glowed the same shade as the Oculus for a brief minute before it returned back to normal. Alyster let out a pained growl.

"The rest of the pack have scurried off, do we make with the chase?"

"No. They do not possess the magic. Leave them be, tell the others to return. Daybreak is upon us."

Derek noticed tears streaming down your face.

Your hand had clutched his in a death grip as the memory began to unravel and spiral into chaos. It played over and over again: the lone arrow whistling through the tree line, embedding itself into Alex's chest after your argument; Alex shouting for you to hide as another arrow flew out; you scurrying behind the bushes and holding your breath as you listened to Alyster and the female archer converse; Alex losing the light in his eyes; the eagle eyes that scanned the forest belonging to Alyster and the green tendrils that felt out for you emerging from the Oculus.

It just kept repeating.

"Y/N, snap out of it," Derek shook your shoulders. You didn't budge, your eyes shut tight, refusing to open.

"Y/N, wake up, listen to my voice," Derek tried to reassure you, "I'm here, I'm right here, don't lose yourself in the memory. Stay with me!"

He was shaking you violently but you were lost in the chaos. Derek watched as the memory replayed itself, getting corrupted and altered the longer it stayed in its loop.

Derek couldn't think of anything else to do, he needed to draw your senses to him, to pull you out of your hell.

In desperation, he gripped your face between his hands and drew you in for a kiss. Your lips were stiff and unmoving at first, but soon enough he felt you loosen in his arms as you began to instinctively kiss him back.

In the background, the horrific memory dissipated into blackness and the dark canvas mutated into a beautiful rendition of a romanticised full moon and starry sky.

Derek felt himself let go of all senses and logic as he deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around your waist. He felt your fingers grace his jawline as his tongue practically serenaded you into a peaceful quiet.

You were drowning in each other.

When Derek pulled back, he was utterly thrown by what he saw. Your eyes, they weren't their normal colour, they glowed a magnificent silver, like the moon itself. And your body was surrounded by a shimmering green aura.

If the moon were personified as a woman, Derek imagined she would not be able to hold a candle up to your spellbinding beauty.

You had taken the very air from his lungs.

His eyes turned their werewolf blue, but it wasn't from being on the defensive or from anger. They were blue for another reason.

"Why did you--" you couldn't finish your question, a deep flush colouring your neck and cheeks.

"It was the only thing I could think of to snap you out of your… daze," Derek explained, his chest heaving up and down.

Without any warning, just as you were mere moments from placing your hand back on his face, to feel if he was real even in the dream state, the dream melted away.  Derek and you were pulled apart in opposite directions as reality bombarded your senses again.

***

"Welcome back," Peter said in between ragged pants as his head was coated in sweat and he was hunched over, holding onto his knees to keep him upright.

Your neck bled from the claw marks, staining your clothes red. Your eyes struggling to open.

You gasped out loud as you almost toppled over from the stool. Derek caught you before you touched the ground, his arms struggling to hold you up, Liam rushed to help him.

As you lost consciousness, the last thing you saw was his soothing green eyes looking down at you with worry and Liam’s own panic riddled expression contrasting deeply with the calm that was settling over you.

Part 8 is Here!

MASTERPOST | Mobile

As Always: Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Let me know what you think so far! Don’t be afraid to ask to be added to the tag list and just a heads-up, this will be my last update for this series for a little while. I have some moving to do!

Tags: @melissavercos   @theflash-trash @mynamesalreadytaken @island-end @chipster-21 @helloscorpious  @marvelismyfantasy @anonymousfanfics @homra-the-red-clan @derangedangel @phonegalhelp’

Permanent tags: @gruffle1 @thechickvic @notawarriorjustyet

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON DIVINITY’S LEAD VOCAL, LEAD DANCE CHA NARI…

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Lily CURRENT AGE: 23 DEBUT AGE: 22 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 17 COMPANY: Koala.T ETC: She was given modeling opportunities prior to debut

IDOL IMAGE

With Nari, the company decided to lean into the “cute” aspect of Divinity, as opposed to the “creepy”. Even if KMT didn’t plan to promote Divinity through traditional methods, not every member needed to be mysterious and artistic at all times.  That was never going to be Nari, the amount of aegyo she did made sure of that. But she could be a bright figure in the group, an adorable, if somewhat sultry magical girl. An innocent temptress, pure, pristine, but desirable; their Lily. Nari’s current image is something of the platonic ideal of a Korean idol. Outgoing, yet not pushy, always cheerful, hardworking and beautiful. Nari is the kind of member seemingly created by the idol gods to bring in devoted fanboys.

KMT’s commitment to social media engagement has only made fans feel closer to Nari, as if she were their very own personal idol. Her active (and popular) instagram and beauty youtube channel make Nari seem accessible. Every moment is carefully choreographed, but has the appearance of being off the cuff. Covens feel like they know Nari, that they’re her friend or, perhaps more. Nari and the Koala.T management are both fine with leaning in heavily to this. Nari wants the fans and KTM wants their money.

In addition to her easy (and frequent) aegyo, KTM has also been pushing a narrative of Nari as the “sexy” member of Divinity. Nothing too overt, no outfits more salacious than bare midriffs or short shorts — both standard girl group fair in 2019. Instead, Nari is subtlety alluring, the mere suggestion of sex, with her swiveling hips and bedroom eyes than anything legitimately provocative. For now, it seems to be working. Fans and members of the media are more than happy to, at least for now, look past her average (for an idol) singing and dancing and focus on her looks. Nari knows she’ll never be known for her talent. If a few winks here and there are what it takes to become a successful idol, then that’s what she’ll do.

IDOL HISTORY

Cha Nari was born in Daegu on April 12, 1996. Her parents, Hyejin and Joonho, had little to offer their first and only child. They both worked low-paying, menial jobs and could only afford a small apartment in the city. Still, though their home was humble, it was happy. Joonho loved his wife and daughter more than words could express and did all that he could to provide for them and make them happy. This was apparently not enough for Hyejin.

Less than a year after Nari was born, Hyejin began an affair with a wealthy businessman. He showered her in gifts. Within six months of starting the affair, Hyejin left her husband and one-year-old and never returned. Joonho was blindsided, having been completely unaware of the affair. He was grief-stricken; after all, he had just lost the love of his life, but he knew that he had to push on, if not for himself, then for his daughter. Even more than before, Nari became his whole world. He would do anything, give up whatever, for his daughter.

When she was very young, Nari wasn’t aware that she was poor. She had clothes to wear, she never went hungry, and she always, always had love. It wasn’t until she started school that Nari began to notice that she was different from other kids. Her classmates, she noticed, got new clothes and not hand-me-downs. They didn’t keep the same shoes until they wore holes in the bottom. Their lunches were larger and nicer. They had big birthday parties, got nice, new toys. Slowly, Nari realized just how much less she had. Her father gave her all he could but it would never measure up.

As Nari became a preteen, she became desperate to keep up with her peers. Nari searched for small jobs around her neighborhood to make just a little bit of pocket money. She ran errands, scrubbed bathroom floors, babysat. Nari did anything and everything just to be able to afford a nicer pair of shoes or some meat for her lunch. Her father, who worked nearly constantly to make ends meet, only saw this as Nari taking after his hardworking ways. He didn’t realize just how ashamed of their circumstances she was.

Puberty hit Nari hard. She’d been a thin and gangly child, but she blossomed into a beautiful teen. She became more popular with girls and boys alike. Nari took to lying to her schoolmates about where she lived and what her father did. She even lied and told people her mother had died, not abandoned her. By the time she was old enough to get a proper part time job, most of her classmates had no idea that the tall, beautiful, popular Nari came from such humble beginnings.

It was in her early teens that people started to notice just how much Nari looked like a member of Diamant. It truly was uncanny. Initially, this pleased Nari. Diamant and other idol groups had been her refuge during the difficult, early years of school when she felt lesser for not having money. She would lose herself in fantasies of being rich and famous like the idols. Being compared to one was the greatest compliment Nari could think of. She wasn’t talented at singing or dancing — she’d never had enough money or time to really try at either — but Nari still dreamed of becoming an idol one day.

That dream was always out of reach until, one day, she was stopped when shopping with her friends. The man said he was a scout for a music company, and he’d never seen such a beautiful girl. Surely, she wanted to be an idol. Nari glowed. The man gave her his card. He said that for a nominal fee, he could help Nari become a trainee. That was all that Nari had ever wanted, so of course, Nari scrapped together her savings and paid the man. She did so again a few weeks later when he asked for another payment, and again a month after that. It was only after she’d spent her very last won and gotten nothing in returned that Nari realized she’d been scammed. This revelation changed Nari. She was no longer wide-eyed and hopeful. Her heart had hardened to the painful realities of the world.

Despite such a major setback, Nari was still determined to become an idol. Nari started putting away money for singing and dancing lessons. Juggling her lessons, her job and school was difficult — many days she would only get roughly three hours of sleep — but Nari persevered. After months and months of lessons, Nari auditioned for every company she could find. Midas turned her down. 99 and MSG too. Even Singularity wouldn’t take her. It wasn’t until she auditioned for Koala.T Music that Nari found a company willing to take a chance on her. She was grateful.

As a trainee, it was painfully clear to Nari that she’d been chosen because of her looks, not on the strength of her talent. Nari had to work twice as hard as everyone else just to keep up. Still, she persevered. Nari spent every spare moment she had practicing. She wouldn’t let a little thing like lack of talent get in the way of her becoming an idol. By the time Koala.T began choosing trainees to debut in the group that would become Divinity, Nari had fought her way tooth and nail towards the top of the pack. She’d never be the best or most talented but Nari’s hard work had transformed her into a more than serviceable singer and dancer.

Nari was ecstatic when she was chosen to be in Divinity. She was much less excited when she became aware of the reality of Koala.T’s predebut plans for the group. The social media plans were fine, as were the smaller promotional efforts. Those made sense, coming from a smaller company. Nari didn’t appreciate, however, just how long it all took and how niche the group became. She didn’t want a few, loyal, fans. She wanted to be known and appreciated by the masses. KTM couldn’t expect them to reach everyone, certainly not the whole Korean public by replying to a few tweets and having the odd guerrilla fanmeet. Still, it was better than not debuting at all, so Nari kept her mouth shut and went along with the program. For her apparent loyalty, Nari was rewarded by being given modeling opportunities. It would make for good press as well as capitalize on her beauty and resemblance to a member of Diamant.

When the group finally debut, it wasn’t the runaway success Nari always dreamt of. She saw it coming, but it was a disappointment nonetheless. Nari remained determined to make it work, for herself even if the group itself night fail. After securing company approval, Nari opened a YouTube channel in the early months of 2019. The channel focuses on makeup and fashion and features idols as guest as often as Nari can manage. Nari has no plans to let her group’s novel concept get in the way of her own success.

[dfroza]

will you open up?

“If there is a block in our relationship, it is not with us, for we carry you in our hearts with great love, yet you still withhold your affections from us. So I speak to you as our children. Make room in your hearts for us as we have done for you.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 6th chapter of the Letter of 2nd Corinthians:

Now, since we are God’s coworkers, we beg you not to take God’s marvelous grace for granted, allowing it to have no effect on your lives. For he says,

I listened to you at the time of my favor.

And the day when you needed salvation,

I came to your aid.

So can’t you see? Now is the time to respond to his favor! Now is the day of salvation! We will not place obstacles in anyone’s way that hinder them from coming to salvation so that our ministry will not be discredited. Yet, as God’s servants, we prove ourselves authentic in every way. For example:

We have great endurance in hardships and in persecutions. We don’t lose courage in a time of stress and calamity.

We’ve been beaten many times, imprisoned, and found ourselves in the midst of riots. We’ve endured many troubles, had sleepless nights, and gone hungry.

We have proved ourselves by our lifestyles of purity, by our spiritual insights, by our patience, and by showing kindness, by the Spirit of holiness and by our uncritical love for you.

We commend ourselves to you by our truthful teachings, by the power of God working through us, and with the mighty weapons of righteousness—a sword in one hand and a shield in the other.

Amid honor or dishonor, slander or praise—even when we are treated as deceivers and imposters—we remain steadfast and true.

We are unknown nobodies whom everyone knows. We are frequently at death’s door, yet here we are, still alive! We have been severely punished yet not executed.

We may suffer, yet in every season we are always found rejoicing. We may be poor, yet we bestow great riches on many. We seem to have nothing, yet in reality we possess all things.

My friends at Corinth, our hearts are wide open to you and we speak freely, holding nothing back from you. If there is a block in our relationship, it is not with us, for we carry you in our hearts with great love, yet you still withhold your affections from us. So I speak to you as our children. Make room in your hearts for us as we have done for you.

Don’t continue to team up with unbelievers in mismatched alliances, for what partnership is there between righteousness and rebellion? Who could mingle light with darkness? What harmony can there be between Christ and Satan? Or what does a believer have in common with an unbeliever? What friendship does God’s temple have with demons? For indeed, we are the temple of the living God, just as God has said:

I will make my home in them and walk among them.

I will be their God, and they will be my people.

For this reason,

“Come out from among them and be separate,” says the Lord.

“Touch nothing that is unclean, and I will embrace you.

I will be a true Father to you,

and you will be my beloved sons and daughters,”

says the Lord Yahweh Almighty.

The Letter of 2nd Corinthians, Chapter 6 (The Passion Translation)

A note from The Voice translation:

The most important partnership in life is marriage. There are other kinds of union, but the union of husband and wife transcends any other. God created sexual intimacy as a unique gift to marriage. Its purpose goes beyond pleasure and procreation. As a man and a woman join their bodies together, the Spirit does a unique work of binding these two individuals as one person. But the involvement of the Spirit is not possible when a believer is intimate with a nonbeliever. They are not filled with the same Spirit and cannot experience the fullness God intends. Paul’s instructions are practical, simple, and clear.

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 57th chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah that warns of idolatry:

[Never Tired of Trying New Religions]

Meanwhile, right-living people die

and no one gives them a thought.

God-fearing people are carted off

and no one even notices.

The right-living people are out of their misery,

they’re finally at rest.

They lived well and with dignity

and now they’re finally at peace.

* * *

“But you, children of a witch, come here!

Sons of a slut, daughters of a whore.

What business do you have taunting,

sneering, and sticking out your tongue?

Do you have any idea what wretches you’ve turned out to be?

A race of rebels, a generation of liars.

You satisfy your lust any place you find some shade

and fornicate at whim.

You kill your children at any convenient spot—

any cave or crevasse will do.

You take stones from the creek

and set up your sex-and-religion shrines.

You’ve chosen your fate.

Your worship will be your doom.

You’ve climbed a high mountain

to practice your foul sex-and-death religion.

Behind closed doors

you assemble your precious gods and goddesses.

Deserting me, you’ve gone all out, stripped down

and made your bed your place of worship.

You’ve climbed into bed with the ‘sacred’ whores

and loved every minute of it,

adoring every curve of their naked bodies.

You anoint your king-god with ointments

and lavish perfumes on yourselves.

You send scouts to search out the latest in religion,

send them all the way to hell and back.

You wear yourselves out trying the new and the different,

and never see what a waste it all is.

You’ve always found strength for the latest fad,

never got tired of trying new religions.

“Who talked you into the pursuit of this nonsense,

leaving me high and dry,

forgetting you ever knew me?

Because I don’t yell and make a scene,

do you think I don’t exist?

I’ll go over, detail by detail, all your ‘righteous’ attempts at religion,

and expose the absurdity of it all.

Go ahead, cry for help to your collection of no-gods:

A good wind will blow them away.

They’re smoke, nothing but smoke.

“But anyone who runs to me for help

will inherit the land,

will end up owning my holy mountain!”

* * *

Someone says: “Build, build! Make a road!

Clear the way, remove the rocks

from the road my people will travel.”

A Message from the high and towering God,

who lives in Eternity,

whose name is Holy:

“I live in the high and holy places,

but also with the low-spirited, the spirit-crushed,

And what I do is put new spirit in them,

get them up and on their feet again.

For I’m not going to haul people into court endlessly,

I’m not going to be angry forever.

Otherwise, people would lose heart.

These souls I created would tire out and give up.

I was angry, good and angry, because of Israel’s sins.

I struck him hard and turned away in anger,

while he kept at his stubborn, willful ways.

When I looked again and saw what he was doing,

I decided to heal him, lead him, and comfort him,

creating a new language of praise for the mourners.

Peace to the far-off, peace to the near-at-hand,” says God—

“and yes, I will heal them.

But the wicked are storm-battered seas

that can’t quiet down.

The waves stir up garbage and mud.

There’s no peace,” God says, “for the wicked.”

The Book (Scroll) of Isaiah, Chapter 57 (The Message)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Wednesday, August 4 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about worship:

In our Torah reading for this week (i.e., parashat Re'eh) it is written: “You shall not worship the LORD your God in that way” (Deut. 12:4), which here refers to Canaanite practices of idolatry that were based on mystery and superstition. Unlike these religious cults that were based on vain speculations, however, the Jews were duty-bound to carry out God’s will as expressed by the truth of divine revelation. Our father Abraham was given revelation of Torah (Gen. 26:5) and at Sinai moral truth was enshrined in the Ten Commandments (Exod. 24:12; Deut. 5:22). A basic assumption of Torah therefore is that “ought implies can,” or that we are genuinely responsible to know and to do moral truth. Unlike the ancient “mystery religions” that abandoned themselves by “celebrating” the lower nature, the Torah insists on overruling our base impulses and finding peace in the midst of the struggle to walk in righteousness. Therefore we do not understand the Hebrew word "shalom" (שָׁלוֹם), or “peace,” to simply mean the absence of strife, but rather "wholeness," "completeness," "healing" -- the integration of the heart and mind that comes through catharsis and personal struggle (Gen. 32:28). Faith does not mean passivity, but protest -- “arguing” for (and even sometimes arguing with) heaven, reminding God of his promises, lamenting over the divine absence; finding courage to oppose the status quo, and repeatedly appealing to heaven “be’khol levaveinu” (בְּכָל־לְבָבֵנוּ) -- with all our hearts -- precisely because we believe that our prayers can affect even the divine decrees... True faith confesses to “move mountains into the sea” (Mark 11:23) and refuses to let go of God until it receives the promised blessing to become “Israel” (Gen. 32:26). [Hebrew for Christians]

and another about the choices we make:

Our Torah reading this week begins with the word re'eh (ראה), "you see," which is in the grammatical singular, but then goes on in the grammatical plural: “I am setting before you (plural) this day a blessing and a curse” (Deut. 11:26). This teaches us, first of all, that our individual choices have consequences for which we are responsible, and that those consequences will affect those around us, for either good or bad. This is the basic principle of bechirah chofshit (בחירה חופשית), or the freedom to make real choices...

The sages add that the phrase re'eh anochi (ראה אנכי), the first two words of the portion, can be read as "You see the ‘I," referring to the ego that can be either a blessing or a curse. The blessing comes when the "I" hears the message of heaven and seeks to yield to God's will, whereas the curse comes when the "I " does not listen but goes its own way. The word blessing is therefore connected with focused listening, but the curse occurs when we no longer listen but "stray from the way." How you listen, then, determines the path you will take, either of righteousness and blessing or unrighteousness and trouble...

In connection with how our hearing affects those in our lives - either by bringing blessing to them or trouble - we read in Proverbs 22:6: "Train up your child in the way he will go, and when he is old he not depart from it." This applies first to the parents who must take the time to learn Torah and then to carefully teach their children (Deut. 6:7), yielding blessing, so that it may be well with them, and that they will do what is right in the eyes of heaven. [Hebrew for Christians]

8.3.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

August 4, 2021

The Lord God of Heaven

“Thus saith Cyrus king of Persia, The LORD God of heaven hath given me all the kingdoms of the earth; and he hath charged me to build him an house at Jerusalem, which is in Judah.” (Ezra 1:2)

It is noteworthy that the words of this verse are almost the same as in the last verse of 2 Chronicles. This is an indication that Ezra the scribe (who wrote the book of Ezra) was also the compiler and editor of the two books of Chronicles.

Even more noteworthy is the fact that the great emperor Cyrus seemed to acknowledge that the God of Israel was not just a tribal god, as many have claimed, but the Lord God of heaven—that is, Jehovah Elohim—recognizing Him as both Creator and Redeemer of the world. The Persians were largely followers of Zoroaster, but his religious system did bear some resemblance to the true monotheism of Israel.

But Cyrus had been called, and even named, by God, long before he was born (Isaiah 44:28–45:6). When he conquered Babylon, the prophet Daniel was there (Daniel 6:28). The Jewish historian Josephus wrote that Daniel even became prime minister under Cyrus and was able to read Isaiah’s remarkable prophecy to him, thus influencing him to send the Jews back to Jerusalem.

There have also been other Gentile rulers who acknowledged God, even before Christ came. Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon, once hating God, finally was forced to confess that He was “the most High” and “King of heaven” (Daniel 4:34, 37). Another was the Queen of Sheba, who recognized “the LORD thy God” (again Jehovah Elohim, 1 Kings 10:9). Then there was the king of Nineveh and Assyria, who believed in God at the preaching of Jonah (Jonah 3:6-10). In fact, in the ages to come “the kings of the earth” will all “bring their glory and honour” to the Lord in the holy city (Revelation 21:24). HMM

[rpchive]

Ninety Third Encounter-- Our Lives as Equals

this log’s a lot shorter compared to the last few

Firefly sits in her room, at her desk by herself; the dishes from her breakfast remaining off to the side of her desk. Most of the food has gone entirely untouched, and her drink never emptied. Letting out a sigh, she leans back in her chair and stares up at the ceiling for a moment. Someone knocks on the other side of her door, although the pattern isn't one that she recognizes. Pushing away from her desk, Firefly goes over and opens her door slightly. "...Something happening?" Daedalus stands on the other side of her door, looking somewhat exhausted and very much unsure of himself. "Nothing's burning, if that's what you mean." Firefly: Well, that's a relief. Eye of the storm, I'm sure, but it's nice while it lasts. Daedalus: Yeah, well, seems to be the pattern at least. Anyway, I, uh... I'm not sure how you're supposed to say this, so I'm just gonna throw some words out here I guess. Thanks for saving me from being skewered like a marshmallow until the end of time by that Oz freak. Firefly: ...I mean, he wouldn't have stopped; he was distracted; I only had one shot...it was the right thing, and the only thing to do; otherwise everybody would've just kept suffering until Collin was dead, and then who knows what that idiot would've done to everything. Daedalus: I'd rather not think about it, frankly. I already dealt with a computer with a god complex, I don't want to start moving on to people with one. Still, I am curious about something. Also, I know I'm still on thin ice here, but is the "cracked door" move really necessary? Visibly embarrassed, Firefly pulls her door open. "...I wasn't thinking about it." Daedalus: It's fine, I get it. I'd just rather not feel like the world's worst girl scout or something. Anyway, how did you get to Oz and I anyway? That city was a complete disaster, and it sounded like everyone else was trapped in their own little bubble or whatever to boot. Firefly: I don't really understand it myself...through the seams of their broken reality; something was...something saw me; nobody else was looking back, but when I looked at that person, I could tell they could see me too, so I tried to reach out to them. The seams got less chaotic, less random; the reality around me stopped distorting as much; for a moment, I was almost sure they were going to just pull me through, but they didn't. They flung me out of the seams, past everybody else, and told me I was "the only one who could stop this," so I did. Daedalus gives Firefly a look that is much similar to one he would give to someone who just grew two extra heads, and slowly nods once. "... Uh-huh." Firefly: ...Look, you asked for an answer, and I was honest; if you don't believe me, you said what you needed to. Daedalus: No no, I believe you, I just... didn't expect /that/ as an answer. Some mystery figure throwing you through all of that nonsense right to where you needed to be... Who the hell could do something like that? Firefly: I have no idea. Everyone else I saw just looked like a different version of myself... Daedalus: Impressive. The more detail you give, the more confused I get.

in those infinite realities, Firefly met one of the versions of herself that became a full god, and that’s who helped her stop Oz

Firefly: Believe me, I've spent every waking moment since we got back trying to figure out why that could've happened... Daedalus: Well, I suppose I should leave you to it. You seem like the type that's used to figuring out weird stuff like this. Firefly: It's about the only thing I can really do right now besides going back to my plants and waiting for the next disaster. Daedalus: Yeesh, keep up the sunshine and rainbows.

He glances past her for a moment and seems to notice something before looking back at her. "And uh, I might not know much about bugs, but I think you might need to eat a little more than just that." Firefly: ...Listen, this is a little much for me to deal with out of nowhere, okay? I'll eat when I'm ready... Daedalus: If you say so. Just be careful or we'll have to start sending Fawkes to babysit you. Firefly: Ugh, don't even joke about that. Daedalus grins and starts walking back to his room, musing loudly to himself as he goes. "Might need to start a meal schedule, and- ooh, maybe even a baby monitor in case something goes wrong. I should get a notepad..." Rolling her eyes, Firefly closes the door behind him. In Collin and Jay's room, Jay's shards have barely begun to conjoin naturally, only a few of them have reformed into larger chunks that remain apart from the rest of their whole.  Zenith is still sleeping in a beanbag chair across the room. Collin has started a quiet game of shaping a small rock in his hands into various shapes and designs using his magic while he sits on the bed, lost in thought. Every once in a while he glances over at Jay's shards to see how they're doing before returning to his hands. Jays shards remain unchanging, retaining their semi-chunky state. Collin sighs and sets the rock, currently twisted in a spiral shape, down on the bedside table. He quietly gets up off the bed and makes his way out of the room before heading down the hall toward the kitchen. Silky and Karumet are there, though Silky currently has a stack of pancakes several feet tall in front of her. Karumet, on the other hand, only has a cup of coffee and an empty plate. Collin: Mornin'. Breakfast still open, I take it? Karumet: The ship makes whatever you want whenever; but Silky's made it her personal mission to eat as much of anything she can get her hands on suddenly.

Through a mouthful of pancakes, Silky sobs out a response: "'Ou would doo 'f 'ou shaw whad I did!"

Collin: Uh... do you need to talk about it? I don't want you to choke on something over it. Drinking syrup out of the bottle, Silky slams it on the table. "What's there to talk about?! All that stuff was out of our reach anyway; who even cares?!"

that sounds like it would just straight up feel bad

Karumet: Apparently you do.

Silky: What the hell would you even know about family?! You don't even have one!

Karumet: Maybe not, but at least I'm not eating my feelings.

Silky: Who cares about that?! I'm never gonna be on another stage; this figure is a waste! My career is in shambles; my family name was ruined; my life is over!!

Silky goes back to sobbing into her pancakes. Collin: Okay, okay, let's take a step back here you two.

Collin pulls up a chair to the table and sits between them. "I'll admit, I don't really know what was going on for the most part during all of that, but... are you sure everything you saw was a real thing? I mean, from what I've heard it sounds like Oz made a literal nightmare realm for everyone. Maybe he just played into everyone's fears to get the biggest reaction." Karumet: There were legitimately infinite branches of possibilities laid out around us; each one containing at least one difference from the last. We all saw things that could've been; things we couldn't have; things that can be; things that might still be possible...but it was almost impossible to distinguish the differences between those subtler realities. Absolutely none of them were within our reach; it was impossible for us to see more than the glimpses, and yet, even just those small windows seem to have made big impacts.

Silky: It wasn't even just one or two; there were hundreds of realities like that! Absolutely thousands of realities where Atlas never ruined anything; where my dad was alive; where everything was just fine; it's not fair!

Karumet: And? What good does it do being upset over what you could've had or done differently when those things aren't changed so practically now? Collin: I... I get it, I think. It sucks to have all of the "what-if" scenarios thrown out in front of you like that, but think about it for a second. Will giving up on what you have now bring about anything you saw? Is getting lost in a whirlwind of nightmares and daydreams the best way forward? Yes, you've lost a lot already, but will giving up on even more actually help you? Silky stares quietly at her pancakes for a minute and sighs as she sets her fork down.

"...Maybe not, but it's...hard not to get upset seeing stuff like that. It's something I don't want to talk about." Collin: I'm not saying it's wrong to be upset about it, I just... hate seeing you take it out on yourself like that. Silky: ...I guess I understand. I just...XL was having the same problem; her dad and sister were still alive like that, and even if she couldn't be with them, she didn't want to stop seeing them; she didn't want to stop falling. Now that it's all over, she's kind of left wondering why she's still...doing this. The war's over; and we won; but...

Karumet: ...But there's still more to fight; still people losing more than you have; still people that need help. That's why you're still doing this...

Silky: ...Yeah. Collin seems to stare through the table for a moment before he speaks, although his volume almost sounds as though he were trying to talk to himself. "I always get such a weird feeling when I hear you guys talk about your families, honestly." Karumet: ...It's probably because they're the only ones with families to talk about.

since s1 Jay was dressed in all black does that mean that everybody else on the IT is technically a Robin

Silky: ...That's kind of why we try not to bring it up in front of everybody... Collin: Well, no, it's not like jealousy or anything like that. In fact, I always feel bad about what you guys lost more than anything else. I guess it's more that I just... have trouble trying to relate, I think. I mean, I technically had parents, but one turned me into a science experiment and the other trapped me in a maze of tests for a couple of years, and I don't even really know them for anything other than that. In a way, I both did and didn't have a biological family, and I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about it. The only family I really know is here, with you guys. Silky: ...I...guess I understand. I don't think any of us ever really stop feeling mad about what happened to you, either. Or, well, not always mad as much as upset that they were just kinda...always like that for you? But that just means we'll have to be the better family, huh?

Karumet: Yeah, well, great job, you almost got him killed by a ghost yesterday.

Silky: Th-that wasn't my fault! Collin: Hey, at least Silky never put me on a narrow walkway with turrets on either side and tiny, spaced out walls to hide behind. Once she does /that/, I might get upset. Karumet: Your family was clearly a bunch of lunatics. Probably for the best you barely knew either of them. Collin: I don't know if she was always that way. Like I said, I don't really remember much before waking up in the testing track. Regardless, I'm just glad to be done with the place. Karumet: ...Speaking of morally curious women, where'd your demon girlfriend slink off to? I haven't seen her since yesterday... Collin: Okay, she's not my girlfriend. But to answer your question, I'm actually not sure. She was hiding in Zenith's shadow yesterday, but I haven't really heard from her since then. Karumet: Well, whatever she is, I'm sure she's doing something else ridiculous somewhere. You should probably try to find her; she looked like she actually listened to you. Collin: Sorta, I guess? I'm not sure why, honestly. Anyway, I'll go take a look around. Talk to you guys later.

With that, Collin pushes himself away from the table and leaves the kitchen. He starts making his way through the IT, checking the music rooms and the other shared spaces to try and find her. Azreldeh does not seem to be in any open areas that Collin goes through, however, Zenith does wind up running into Collin on his way back.

Zenith: I-!! When I woke up, Jay was...Jay's back! Collin: Wait, what?

Rather than waiting for a response, he quickly ducks past him and darts down the hall for their room. Azreldeh is idly floating in the room beside Jay, who's currently balled up on the bed holding where his injured arm should be.

Azreldeh: ...Yeah, no, that's definitely not normal; I should probably go get your bug friend... Collin: What's wrong? What's not normal? Azreldeh: Oh, when did you get here? Uhh, his arm's totally black and hard, apparently. That doesn't happen normally, does it? Collin: N-No, not at all. Should I go get Firefly, or...? Azreldeh: Uhh, I guess? Unless that really mean kleivenn chick knows about this. Collin: I don't know, I never know when this is kleivenn stuff or something else. Look, I'll... I'll be right back.

He hurries back out of the room and down to Firefly's door, which he hurriedly knocks on. Firefly answers her door yet again. "Look, if you're here to make more baby jokes or something-- oh, Collin."

Collin: Huh? Baby j- Uh, n-nevermind, look, Jay came back but his arm's all wrong. Can you see if you can help? Firefly: ...His arm? That's weird...uhh, sure; I'll be there in a sec; just let me look for something first. In the meantime, you should probably see if it's hurting him or something; I'd like to know if we're dealing with a curse or another ghost before I start dragging more weird artifacts out of drawers. Collin: Right, sorry...

He hurries back to their room and stops next to Jay, hesitant to touch him. "You, uh... Your arm, is it hurting? alienrabitt: N-no, I just...I can't move it or anything while it's like this. I don't know what's wrong; this hasn't happened before...ugh, but...I really don't care about this. Collin: ... Huh? What do you mean "you don't care"? alienrabitt: ...Collin, do you remember what I told you the wish I made when I became a hermes was about? Collin: Oh, you remember- Uh, yeah, but... What does that have to do with this? I mean, I'm okay, so...? alienrabitt: ...I...guess it doesn't have anything to do with this, but...when Oz decided to pull whatever big stunt of his he messed up, when he tried to kill you...my wish hadn't changed. Even though I was technically part of Demo, what he was doing, it wasn't just pulling you apart...but...I couldn't do anything about it...I couldn't even get through to everybody else...I was just dying by myself in the middle of absolutely nothing. I...I don't care what the hell this is about; I just...

cannocal reminder in case anyone missed that Oz was so stupid he almost killed himself as soon as he became a god

Collin: Oh God Jay, I... I'm so sorry.

He kneels down next to the bed and puts a hand on his shoulder. alienrabitt: ...I'm glad you're okay. Is everyone else? I...don't really know what happened... Collin: Yeah, everyone's still recovering from all of that, but they're okay. Oz got charbroiled, so don't worry about him either. alienrabitt: ...And Demo? Collin: She's alive. I think she might still be recovering in XL's room. She was pretty upset about the whole thing, for obvious reasons. alienrabitt: ...But she's okay? That's such a relief; I figured since she took me in that maybe...but you're okay, so she's probably fine too...

Firefly finally shows up in the room, Zenith following worriedly behind her.

Firefly: So, what's the verdict? Collin: It's not hurting him, at least. Sounds like he can't move it or anything though. Crouching down beside Jay, Firefly pulls on a pair of metallic goggles with tinted lenses that seem to flicker slightly. "Hmm, you're right; more than anything, it just looks like a mess of conflicting sources of magic...Azreldeh, you helped him, didn't you?"

Azreldeh: Y-you could've just looked at my horns to figure that out!

Firefly: Yeah, well, even if you're trying to help, you're still a demon...but your magic isn't even what's causing this; more than anything, it looks like it's because of Zenith and Demo. They're both so unstable that the arm can't stay in any one state; but constantly shifting would leave Jay at a disadvantage; so it tried to compromise; but...this doesn't really help either. Collin: Wait, what? I thought Demo and Zenith weren't connected with him anymore, at least not when it comes to his power or whatever you want to call it. Firefly: They aren't right now; but since he just got done with sharing a body with both of them; and since Oz was straining it pretty hard; and since he was trying to force Demo to make Jay a part of them, Jay must've been trying not to do that, which means taking in all that chaotic mess that Oz was using to make everything so...wrong.

alright, key point for later, limbs/things like this come from taking in absurd amounts of unstable/chaotic magic

Collin: ... Yeah, I guess that'd do it, huh. What should we do about it though? Firefly: Taking this stuff in is really ill-advised; if this is what it's doing to Jay's arm, there's no telling what it'd do to a person like you. Fortunately it doesn't seem to be enough to make a serious impact on Jay; it wasn't even enough to give him a physical form; so for now, all we can really do is watch and make sure it doesn't get worse, which it shouldn't unless somebody feeds into it.

and Firefly even points out that the magic itself has a chance to do something much, much worse. but Jay only took in a small amount...

She glances over to Azreldeh. "...So you better keep your hands to yourself."

Azreldeh: Well, I won't touch him, but you can't tell me not to touch anybody...

Firefly: Y-you know what I mean!! Don't try to flirt with me! Collin: Good grief... I just wish I could do something. Not having an arm is going to suck... Firefly: I'm sure once whatever this is works its way out, Jay will be fine again. Collin: I sure hope so. We've had enough emergencies thanks to Oz already. Zenith: Uhh, Demo really sounded like she wanted to talk to you when you got up, but...if you don't want to-

alienrabitt: No, I do. We probably need to after...all that... Collin: Do you need help getting up? alienrabitt: Believe it or not, no; even before now, my arm couldn't really hold up my own weight, so I'm kind of used to...not using it for that.

Despite this statement, it does seem to take him a little more effort than usual to get upright and off the bed. Collin: Alright, just... let me know if you need help. Let's go see if Demo is still in XL's room. Upon arriving in XL's room, the group finds that Demo has actually left. Collin: Well, at least she can move again. I guess she'll be in her room then? XL: She didn't tell me she was gonna talk to anybody, so I'd call that a safe bet. Collin: Alright, thanks XL. I guess we'll try there then. The group tries Demo's room. Though it takes some time for her to answer the door, she manages to do so, even if she leans against the doorframe the entire time. Visibly tired, she won't meet anyone's eyes, not even Jay's. "...So you woke up."

alienrabitt: Demo, why're you hiding your room again? I already know what's in it...

Demo: It's not exactly a public gallery...but you didn't come here to judge my interior design skills, did you? alienrabitt: ...I-...when Oz made you-...Demo; I know how you really feel about me. I know about everything; I know you didn't mean to hurt everybody like that; I know you didn't want to kill Collin...but...

Demo: ...Yeah, you know about what everybody else does at this point, and I know you're late to the party.

alienrabitt: ...That's...why didn't you tell me about how you felt about me? Not...not Tori, me.

Demo looks past Jay for a minute. "...That. Isn't a conversation for an audience."

She looks back at him. "...Look, just...don't sweat it; especially when you blatantly have bigger problems going on. I'm just glad I didn't mess you up too." Collin: Uh, if you two need to talk some more, we can just leave. It's not a big deal, really. Demo: ...Nah, you can come talk to me when everybody's less...shaken and stirred. I'm pretty patient, trust me. Just...figure out what the hell's up with yourself first; we can get back to me. Collin: Me? I'm fine, it's Jay's arm that's paying the price for Oz's stunt right now. Demo: Believe me, I'm...well aware.

Firefly: Did something happen to you to?

Demo: I'm sorry; did I ask for paparazzi once Jay woke up? No? Just for him? Take a hike, Flick; this is an A B conversation. Collin: Jesus, right back at it aren't you? Demo: Look, there's only so many people I wanna talk to right now, and she's about the last one I wanna see. Collin: Alright, well try this instead: Zenith, Firefly, can you let us talk this out for a little while? Zenith: Uhh...yeah, I can do that...

Firefly: ...I...sure.

Firefly leaves, glancing back at Demo a few times. Zenith, on the other hand, just leaves without any hassle. Demo looks relieved to have both of them out of her presence.

Demo: ...To answer her question; yes, I didn't get out of that without repercussions either.

Stepping aside, Demo allows the pair into her proper room again. After stepping inside, Collin turns back to face Demo. "What happened to you? You look normal, at least." Demo is very careful all the way back to her chair, sitting down about as quickly and unceremoniously as possible. "Yeah, well, hell works in mysterious ways, pal."

Collin: Uh... Is something wrong with your legs, or...? Demo: You are absolutely correct; how observant of you. Can't really blame you for not noticing before; I do kinda wear clothes that actually cover most of me; hell, even Silky didn't notice when she carried me off because she was in her armor; but once she put me down and XL saw...

alienrabitt: Your whole body was like my arm?

Demo: For the most part. I told them not to tell anybody; didn't want to freak anyone out, especially when we didn't know what it was or even why it was happening. By this morning, most of it was totally gone, so I just left without a warning. I'm sure XL's about as steamed as she can get, but whatever.

...while Demo took enough to change 80% of her body

that’s something to keep in mind for later, but I’m saying this more for myself at this point

Collin: Well, at least it got better? Hopefully it'll be the same case for Jay too. Demo: Oh, I'm sure it will be. He'll be fine regardless; it doesn't hurt at all; it's just really annoying. Turns out kleivenn aren't supposed to take in magic so strong it can snap reality over its knee; go figure.

alienrabitt: ...So, you-

Demo: Me, me, me; you're sounding pretty obsessed finally, huh? I'll cut to the chase; I wasn't really sure back then. I couldn't tell you apart; and that ruined everything about my perception; even when I came back, I only ever thought of you as this one thing, when you were something totally different the whole time. I was so obsessed with the frame, I never even bothered to look at the damn painting. But you? You're the real big picture. 'Course, now that I'm seeing you like that, I've got no damn idea what that means for me, or even if I care about that. That whole other half thing...I don't want you to be a part of me. You are my other half, yeah, but we work better like this.

alienrabitt: That's...I'm uhh, not sure how to take all that? This is seriously what was eating you up while I was gone?

Demo: Wh-- of course not; I thought you were dead! I shattered you and took you in; all you and your boyfriend's stupid magic paralyzed me from the neck down for a day straight; do you think during that whole time all I was thinking about was "golly, I sure am one lucky gal to be besties with my brother?!"

alienrabitt: W-well, I'm not dead, so...! Don't worry about it!

Demo: God, you really are just one dense motherfucker sometimes... Collin: Jay, it's not just the fact that you almost died, it's the fact that it happened because Demo wasn't seeing you for who you really are. alienrabitt: ...Okay, I...think I get it. Sorry, getting shattered like that is giving me a little bit of a hard time. Azreldeh couldn't totally fix me; she just kinda gave me enough magic to be here.

Demo: ...Ugh, you're making me feel guilty just looking at you. Just...you get the point; please leave. Collin: Alright, we'll get out of your hair. You gonna be alright by yourself? Demo: I'm...getting by. Don't worry about it. Nydins'll probably be in here soon enough anyway... Collin: Fair enough. We'll leave you to it then.

alright, next time we...go back to the Starbound universe, but not really for War Reasons?

[queerly-belov3d]

Things I don’t want to forget

I visited my grandmas house for the final time on March 25th, 2017.  I felt a lot of emotions, but most of all, an overwhelming wave of grief and finality.

This was it.  She doesn’t live here anymore.  She will never live here again.

After I walked out the door, I texted myself every detail I could remember about what I had just experienced - just so I could hold onto it a little longer.  Two days later, I received a blank text in the same conversation I had created with myself for that very purpose.  I’m not sure what I believe in, but I think that was my reminder to move such a memorable experience to a better location.

So here it is.

It smells like church in the living room, and in a most fitting fashion, a picture of Jesus is the only thing still hanging on the walls.  The living room is empty, bar the piano and the headboard my mom wants me to take.  The random assortment of carpets are still down, the frayed edges still duck taped to the floor to prevent her from finding a way to trip over them.  However, everything else is gone.  The couches, the entertainment set, the TV, the Christmas decorations... all gone.

The room with the red carpet that I spent hours playing in has been purged of all my toys.  At some point after I moved to college it had been re-purposed into a laundry room, but all of my toys had remained packed on the shelving to the side of the room - along with the copious amounts of chips she would get on sale and pack away to give to me during my next visit.  But now the bookshelves full of papers, antique toys, board games, and snacks were gone.  

The other guest room, that used to be my great aunts bedroom, holds only a lamp now.  This is where I had slept when I last visited her.  Where I packed up my things and left thinking I’d still get to see her again, only a week before she would pass away. 

Her room is what gets to me the most.  What was once a chaotic array of various items that were fond to her is now an empty shell.  The TV whose remote I had to reprogram so many times I cannot count is gone.  The computer we sat at for hours together while I frustratingly tried to teach her how to use it has since moved on - the only sign of it’s existence being the modem plug still hanging from the wall.  In fact, it’s the only thing still on the wall.  The pictures she had once printed out (a few of which had been on normal printer paper, but most from disposable cameras - as she loved those the most) are now gone.  The photo from “The Secret of the Watermelon” youth group event, the picture that had post it notes of prayers she needed to make, and the various other elements that had hung on her wall that had made her room full of her love and joy are now all gone.

And of course, most importantly, her bed is gone.  The small set of stairs she had pushed up next to her bed so her little dog could easily join her at night has vanished.  The headboard that used to hold her alarm clock that seemed to be set to go off at all sorts of random hours of the day has been thrown out.  The white comforter with a patterned arrangement of colorful flowers has moved on.  She doesn’t sleep her anymore, and that’s finally set in.

I peek into the bathroom and notice that this room still holds multiple possessions of hers.  Her pink comb for her thin hair sits in the green cup she had used to hold her various bathroom belongings.  There are a few sticky notes with reminds still floating  around near the sink and the mirror.  But these things don’t allow me to live in the illusion she’s still here.  There’s still too much missing from this room, too.

As I’m leaving the bathroom, I notice the hallway closet I always overlooked.  This is where she had hung my arts and crafts project from my very first day of Sunday school in 1996... or maybe it was ‘95... regardless, she had been so happy for me to be going to church.  Even though I don’t go now, and I’m not sure what I believe in anymore, if there was a God, she’s been the only person in my life to radiate that kind of love.

When I trek to the kitchen my heart drops.  All of her appliances are gone.  I’ve never seen this room so exposed.  What saddens me the most is the absence of the fridge that had always held photos of Rodger, newspaper clippings (including the picture of herself planting tomatoes when she made it onto the front page), or other notes and miscellaneous fun artifacts, pinned up by magnets of all varieties.  One of them used to be a magnet from the Sears tower, which had been a gift from me after my trip to Chicago in 2015. 

Also missing is the gas stove - a reminder of how much she loved to provide for others via her cooking, even when asked not to.  Sometimes I’d eat a second dinner to appease her, because I knew how much it meant to her (and she was going to make it regardless of my level of hunger).  This makes me reflect back to middle school, when I’d bring friends back with me after school and she’d bring out all the food she could muster for all of us.  Those days are over now.

I take a look out of her kitchen window to her back yard and am not surprised to see that the black swing is gone - although I’m not sure why this is important to me.  Other than one mysterious black Croc shoe, her back porch is completely empty.  The flowers, decorations, and wind chimes have all been migrated to my parents house.  My heart aches as I remember how she had wished to go out on her back porch one more time.  She had been doing so much better that she had even been getting up from bed and making her own meals.  I had been home the day her hospice worker discussed how next week, they’d both go out and sit on the back porch together.  But that day never came.  That same night, she had a mini-stroke.  It was too hard on her body, and she didn’t recover.  She passed two weeks later.  Pushing that memory out of my mind, I focus instead on the few ornaments that still scatter the back yard.  My eye catches on the garden hose - bright green with a yellow stripe - and I can almost see her holding it, sporting sun hat and gardening gloves, waving to me, but it’s only a memory.

As I pull away I notice she has labeled the screens inside her windows with indications of which area they belong to.  South K, this one says.  I’m not sure what this means, but I know she did.  She knew her systems.  I remember there was a brown block puzzle she had owned that she had given to me to solve.  When I finally did figure it out she wanted to make sure we could always solve it again, so she wrote letters in black marker on the sides of the pieces, where if the letters matched on two different pieces those sides must go together in that spot.  She might not have ever fully understood how to use the Internet to Google something, but she sure was clever.  Years of taking care of others made her that way.  She was a problem solver, and she’d always try to help find a solution - even if that solution was duck tape, which it usually was (dubbing her the title Duct Tape Queen, even prior to my mom finding a book buried in the basement called The Duct Tape Book a few months back).

My mom beckons to me to see the basement, and I follow her.  As early in my life as I can remember, the basement was always filled with canned goods at the bottom of the stairs, and everywhere else filled with archived memorabilia.  I know it will be empty now, but in my gut I feel as though the basement couldn’t possibly be empty.

As we descend the stairs, I do not see the shelves that used to hold the canned goods.  When we reach the bottom of the stairs, I turn on the light and am awestruck.  There’s nothing left.  My mom has gotten through it all, which shouldn’t be surprising now that 10 months have passed.  I smile a little, thinking of how my grandma had always claimed she had my moms tonsils saved somewhere down here, and how my mom had never found them.  Had she gotten rid of them a long time ago and forgotten?  Were they in some other secret space, a surprise for the next inhabitant of the house?  Who knows.

I take a look at the space of floor and wall I never knew existed and imagine everything else she had kept here.  My mom had shared a few of these items with me.  Stuffed animals from my moms and uncles childhoods, my uncles boy scout uniform, the newspaper from the JFK assassination... what else had she kept here?  Whatever it all had been, I knew she had kept it for a reason.

When we get back up from the basement, I take a peek into the garage - now the holding place of many various items my mom has yet to remove.  I see a small wooden chair with a patch of brown duct tape on the top of it.  I remember this chair.  Everything else in here, not so much.  As I am about to turn off the light, I notice there is a mark on the garage wall that looks lighter than the rest.  It’s the letter ‘R’.  I had never noticed this before, likely because the walls used to be covered with lawn tools or other items.  I wonder if it was for ‘Ridgway’, but I don’t ask.  I’ll let the house keep this mystery.

As I stand in the living room one more time, I stand by the piano.  My grandma had bought this for my mom so she could learn to play as a child, but now it was going to auction as we had no place for it to go and we knew someone else could take better care of it.  I remember when I was a child, pushing back the wooden cover from the keys and aimlessly pounding away at the keys, thinking I was a master pianist.  My grandma would just smile, not annoyed or perturbed by me.  The cover is pushed back now, exposing the keys to the room.  I wonder if my mom has been playing it.  Something inside me urges me to play a note, but I feel that the noise alone might break my heart.  Instead, I turn around and look at where the TV used to be.  This is where we would always watch Wheel of Fortune together.  When I visited in college, I’d try to always make sure to be here at 5:30 so I wouldn’t miss it.  Even the last few times when she couldn’t stay awake through the whole thing, I’d turn it on and play along.  It was our game show.

I look out the large window in the living room, taking a deep breath as I try to muster a goodbye for the house.  I recall how she would stand here, watching people walk by with their dogs.  I remember one time during the last few months when she sat on the couch next to her dog, sitting on her knees and leaning up on the back of the couch, just looking outside.  The yard that spanned in front of the window used to be covered in a chaotic array of flowers, because she loved all of them too much to just pick any particular flower.  Now, at the end of winter, the yard looks sad.  My mom has removed the yard ornaments, and the flowers are obviously not in bloom.  I take a step back and run my hand along the old, yellowing curtains that would cover the window at nighttime - never during the day.  They smell like her.

As my mom and I leave the house, I remember that my initials are carved into the driveway.  I bend down and take a picture that encompasses both the house and the initials, and let myself cry one more time.  As we get into the car, I begin to write down these final memories, because I don’t want to forget them.  As we leave, I take one last look.  It was a ritual that any time we left Grandma’s house, we would wave at her while she waved back from her living room window, and we would beep the horn twice.  I remember even making my SO’s or friends perform this ritual if they had drove me here.  But this time when I look, there’s no one waving, and we don’t beep goodbye.

I know someone else will be moving in soon.  I know she will likely want a shower instead of just the pale green bathtub.  I know she might not value the soft, white, cloth curtains that hang in the master bedroom.  She might also not understand the mysterious codes written on the window screens.  I know she will change it, but I know she will also bring life to it, and I know this house deserves life.  After years upon years of life, love, and pure joy, it’d be unfair to not let it manifest once again.

So I write down my final day inside my grandma’s house, knowing I won’t see it again, and if I do it won’t be like this anymore.