#and the law of the god of Jacob

[fromthehouseofgerber]

Realizing the basses never actually sing the word “joyfully” in the song “sing joyfully” by William Byrd

This is so criminal. Let the basses be joyful.

[garbashedump]

Wear a damn shirt

[typewriter-worries]

THANK you for saying saltburn is a knockoff mr ripley. its so true bestie

Hahah, there are definitely elements of it I enjoyed (Barry's and Rosamund's performances, the cinematography, and the chemistry between Barry and Archie) but even when I saw the trailer, my first thought was, "Oh so it's Brideshead Revisited meets The Talented Mr. Ripley"

I totally get being inspired by it too, but it kind of just lacked the charisma The Talented Mr. Ripley has, in my opinion. The Talented Mr. Ripley also has 1999 Jude Law, and the chemistry he had with Matt Damon that led to the story being so good is hard to capture.

For anyone wondering, this is 1999 Jude Law:

[closetedenjoyer]

Czech One Piece Fanbase

Hi fellas! I'm doing a research on a Czech One Piece fanbase. The idea is to screen the final episodes of One Piece in cinemas one day, but before approaching local cinemas, I need to know how many Czech fans are out there and how many would even be willing to come see it in cinemas.

So I created a short form (only 4 questions) to find out. It doesn't matter if you're not Czech - as long as you live in Czechia. It would be a huge help if you could fill out the form. I'll be eternally grateful for rebloggs to reach more people.

I posted this on One Piece subreddit and on few servers on discord already, but I'm very much relying on tumblr community, you guys never let anyone down, thank you!

[biblebloodhound]

Receive the Blessing (Genesis 48:8-19)

“We’ve never done it that way before,” are the seven last words of any institution.

Jacob Blessing Ephraim and Manasseh, by Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-1669) When Israel saw the sons of Joseph, he asked, “Who are these?” “They are the sons God has given me here,” Joseph said to his father. Then Israel said, “Bring them to me so I may bless them.” Now Israel’s eyes were failing because of old age, and he could hardly see. So Joseph brought his sons close to him, and his father…

[funkopersonal]

Here's your daily reminder that...

Jews are only 0.2% of the worlds population but...

Jews make up 14% of the World Total and 38% of the United States of America total winners for the Nobel Prize for Literature (source).

Of the 965 individual recipients of the Nobel Prize and the Nobel Memorial Prize in Economic Sciences between 1901 and 2023, at least 214 have been Jews or people with at least one Jewish parent, representing 22% of all recipients. (source)

Jews make up 14% of the total winners of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction 18% of the total winners of the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry; 53% of the total winners of the Pulitzer Prize for Non-Fiction (source).

Jews make up 39% of the total winners of the Antoinette Perry (Tony) Award for Best Play; 54% of the total winners of the Tony Award for Best Book of a Musical (with 62% of all Composers and 66% of all Lyricists of Best Musical-winning productions being Jewish) (source).

Jews make up 40% of the total winners of the Academy Award (Oscar) for Best Original Screenplay; and 34% of the total winners of the Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay (source).

Although Jews constitute only 3% of the U.S. population...

80% of the nation’s professional comedians are Jewish (source).

90% of American comic book creators are jewish (source)

38% of the recipients of the United States National Medal of Science are Jewish (Source).

Jews are very successful, with educational levels higher than all other U.S. ethnic groups with the exception of Asian Americans, and income levels the highest of all groups. Six out of ten Jewish adults have college degrees, and 41% of Jewish families report a household income of $75,000 or more” (source)

Jews are a minority across the globe. We've been historically opressed and hated. But these key figures from history are all Jewish and loved, yet many don't even know they're jewish (or they don't know these people in the first place!):

Stan Lee (birth name: Stanley Martin Lieber) - An American comic book writer and editor, Former executive vice president and publisher of marvel Comics, creator of iron-man, spider-man, and more.

Albert Einstein - a Theoretical physicist, Received the 1921 Nobel Prize in Physics, developed the theory of relativity and the "worlds most famous equation"  (E = mc^2), and more.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg - Former Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States, co-authored the initial law school casebook on sex discrimination, co-founded the Women’s Rights Project at the ACLU in 1972, and more.

Jack Kirby (birth name: Jacob Kurtzberg) - an American comic book artist, co-creator of Captain America, one of the most influential comic book artists

Harry Houdini (birth name: Erich Weisz) - a Hungarian-American escape artist, illusionist, and stunt performer, noted for his escape acts.

Emma Lazarus - An American author remembered for her sonnet "The New Colossus," Inspired by The Statue of Liberty and inscribed on its pedestal as of 1903.

Julius Rosenthal, Lillian Wald, Rabbi Emil G. Hirsch, Stephen Wise, and Henry Moskowitz - Jewish activists that helped form the NAACP along with W.E.B. Dubois, Ida B. Wells-Barnett, and Mary Church Terrell.

Mark Zuckerberg - Founder and CEO of Meta, a businessman who co-founded the social media service Facebook, and within four years became the world’s youngest self-made billionaire Harvard alumni.

Joseph Pulitzer - a politician and newspaper publisher, his endowment to the Columbia University established the Pulitzer Prizes in 1917, he founded the Columbia School of Journalism which opened in 1912.

Jacob William Davis - a Latvian tailor who is credited with inventing modern jeans and who worked with Levi Strauss to patent and mass-produce them, died.

Irving Berlin - drafted at age 30 to write morale-boosting songs for military revues (including “God Bless America”). Many Berlin songs remained popular for decades, including “Puttin’ on the Ritz,” “Cheek to Cheek,” “Anything You Can Do (I Can Do Better),” “There’s No Business Like Show Business,” and two celebrating Christian holidays: “White Christmas” and “Easter Parade.”

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel - received his doctorate in Berlin. He was arrested by the Nazis in 1938, moved to the U.S. in 1940, and became an influential figure in the 1960s, marching with the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. in Selma, Alabama, and speaking out against the Vietnam War.

Elie Wiesel - Romanian-American writer and professor, holocaust survivor, nobel laureate, political activist. Authored 57 books including Night, a work based on his experiences as a Jewish prisoner in the Auschwitz and Buchenwald concentration camps

Bob Dylan - an icon of folk, rock and protest music, won the Nobel Prize in literature for his complex and poetic lyrics.

J. Robert Oppenheimer - ran the Manhattan Project, considered the "father of the atomic Bomb," presented with the Enrico Fermi Award by President Lyndon Johnson.

Betty Friedan - co-founded the National Organization of Women and became its first president, wrote The Feminine Mystique (1963) and helped spark the second wave of feminism.

Gloria Steinem - one of the most prominent feminists of all time, launched Ms. Magazine and co-founded the National Women’s Political Caucus with Bella Abzug, Shirley Chisholm, Betty Friedan and Myrlie Evers-Williams, widow of Medgar Evers.

Sergey Brin - an American businessman best known for co-founding Google with Larry Page, president of Alphabet Inc.

Judith Heumann - a founder of the disability rights movement, led a 26-day sit-in at a federal building in San Francisco. The protest spurred implementation of Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, a precursor to the Americans with Disabilities Act.

Larry Kramer - co-founded Gay Men’s Health Crisis in response to the AIDS epidemic but was soon ousted over his confrontational activism. He went on to help launch a more strident group, ACT UP, and wrote a critically acclaimed play, The Normal Heart, about the early AIDS years in New York City.

Steven Spielberg - released his critically acclaimed epic film Schindler’s List, based on the true story of a German industrialist who saved Jews during the Holocaust. The movie won seven Oscars and led Spielberg to launch the Shoah Foundation at the University of Southern California, which filmed interviews with 52,000 survivors of the Holocaust and genocides in Nanjing and Rwanda.

Calvin Klein - made designer jeans and the infamous ad starring Brooke Shields revolutionized the fashion industry, sold his company to Phillips-Van Heusen (now PVH) for $430 million. Klein was the first designer to win three consecutive Coty Awards for womenswear.

Daveed Diggs - an American actor, rapper, and singer-songwriter. he originated the dual roles of Marquis de Lafayette and Thomas Jefferson in the musical Hamilton, for which he won a 2016 Tony Award for Best Actor in a Featured Role in a Musical. Along with the main cast of Hamilton, he was awarded a Grammy Award for Best Musical Theater Album in the same year.

And so much more. (a pretty decent list is available here)

Not only that, but the following are all Jewish inventions...

The Teddy Bear - made by Morris and Rose Michtom in honor of Theodore "Teddy" Roosevelt.

The Ballpoint Pen - *the first commercially sucessfull ballpoint pen was made by Lazlo Biro, a Hungarian-Jew, and his brother.

Mobile Phones - made by Martin Cooper, nicknamed the "father of the cellphone", and was born in Chicago to Ukrainian Jewish immigrants.

The Barbie - made by Ruth Marianna Handler, born to Polish-Jewish immigrants.

Power Rangers - made by Haim Saban, a Jewish-Egyptian

Video Games - made by Ralph Baer, a German-Jew

Peeps - made by Sam Born, a Russian-Jewish immigrants who came to the United States in 1909.

Cards Against Humanity - created by a group of Jewish boys from the same high school

Many Superheroes including Superman, Ironman, spider-man, batman, and more!

and more! (an illustrated list available here.)

Conclusion: If you're Jewish, be proud. You come from a long line of successful people. No matter what happened to them, Jews persevered, and they strived for sucess. Be proud of your culture, your history, these are your people. You're Jewish.

(feel free to reblog and add more, or just comment and i'll add it!)

Last Updated: June 25, 1:35 AM EST

[themultifandomgal]

Isaiah Jesus- We’re Getting Married

When I told my brothers that Isaiah and I were getting married, they were not happy. I am the youngest Shelby, as Arthur puts it 'our baby sister'. Thankfully though my brothers came around and now here I stand smoothing down my dress as Esme places my vail in my hair

"You look beautiful YN" Lizzie gushes

"Thank you, but so do you both" I look at Esme and Lizzie through the mirror in front of me

"Ready?"

"Yeah" I smile turning around to Lizzie

"I'll go let Arthur know" she says leaving the room. A few minutes later Arthur knocks the door with his hand over his eyes

"We're all decent you can come in" I tell him. He takes his hand away and I can already see the tears in his eyes "don't cry because you'll make me cry"

"I'm sorry. It's just... my baby sister is getting married"

"Ok no smudging the makeup" Esme says stopping both me and Arthur from crying

"I think Isaiah is waiting" Lizzie places her hands on her hips

"Your right. Come on" Arthur holds his arm out for me to take.

As I wait for the doors to open to reveal Isaiah I start fidgeting

"Don't be nervous"

"I'm not. I'm excited. I love him Arthur"

"I know you do" finally the doors open and in walk Lizzie and Tom, then Esme and John. Then in walk my bridesmaids and finally Arthur walks me to Isaiah who's stood at the end of the aisle looks so freaking good. I notice he's got a tear running down his smiling face which cause me to cry a little. Arthur gives Isaiah my hand then kisses my cheek before taking his seat next to the rest of my family

"Welcome" the priest starts "today we are here to witness the marriage and bond between YN and Isaiah. Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do"

"I do" we both respond

"Before we start. Is there anyone here who has reason that these two should not marry?" Thankfully neither Isaiah or I have to be nervous about anyone standing up "since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church" Isaiah and I hold hands

"I, take you , to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life" Isaiah says looking into my eyes. I repeat what he says

"May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder. May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God who joined together our first parents in paradise, strength and bless in Christ the consent you have declared before the Church, so that what God joins together, no one may put asunder. receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit. Who has the rings?" The priest asks. Charlie steps forward with both of our rings. Isaiah then takes my left hand

"Receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit" he then places the ring on my finger. I repeat

"Now let us humbly invoke God's blessing upon this bride and groom, that in his kindness he may favor with his help those on whom he has bestowed the Sacrament of Matrimony. In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss" the room is filled with applause while Isaiah and I share a kiss.

It's now the after party at the Garrison and I've changed into something a little more comfortable so I can dance in. Isaiah and I had our first dance then Arthur clears his throat

"Can I have everyone's attention" I take Isaias hand in mine "I'd like to raise a toast to my sister and now brother in-law. Now when you first starting courting I wasn't happy" this makes us all laugh "in all seriousness though, I saw the way YN looked at you and the way you looked at her. It's a love that can't be ignored. I can't wait to see where life takes you both, but no babies yet I'm still not recovered from this wedding" again this makes everyone laugh "to YN and Isaiah"

"To YN and Isaiah" everyone shouts before we all take a sip of the champagne. I turn to my now husband and look up at him

"I love you"

"I love you too" he leans down and kisses my lips.

[talonabraxas]

The deeper we look into nature, the more we recognize that it is full of life, and the more profoundly we know that all life is a secret and that we are united with all life that is in nature. -Albert Schweitzer

"The Ancestral Tree" Talon Abraxas The pure Deity is in all places and all corners, and present every where all over: the birth of the holy Trinity in one essence is every where: and the angelical world reacheth to every part, wherever you can think, even in the midst of the earth, stones, and rocks: as also hell and the kingdom of God's wrath is every where all over. -Jakob Bohme

The Wheel of Nature: William Law, The Works of Jacob Behmen, the Teutonic Theosopher. London, 1764-81. The figure is by Dionysius Andreas Freher.

[garbashedump]

slumber party!

Sorry about the slow posting guys but it's here!

k soooooo the adorable lil guy Popstar (2nd to the left) belongs to @chaosaliien from lawful joke au

and the other adorable lil one, Stella (2nd to right) belongs to @liqu3d

here's a blooper i did when filling in the eyes and low key made me second guess my color palettes😭

[ghosts-and-glory]

I cant get your YouTuber au leshy out of my head just like imagining him pranking the lamb and then getting a takedown video being made. While thats being filmed leshy Bursts In again this time playing a satapanpi song bass boosted by X500

I know in my heart he’s a little shit. The one YouTube prankster who you’ll wish was faking his pranks.

That being said in the au when Nari and The Lamb get together Leshy is definitely the in-law the lamb gets along with the best. God’s least favourite duo.

If I had the time to draw it I would so draw him as this clip of Jacob Drawfee. You know peaking the mic is like an Olympic sport to him.

Volume waning.

[physalian]

Color in Fiction! (Once You See it, You Cannot Unsee it)

White versus black, red versus blue, Gatsby’s green light, Dorothy’s ruby red slippers, Belle’s blue dress.

Color is perhaps the most ubiquitous motif used across both fiction and reality to thread people or objects through a common theme, or to pit two ideologies against each other beyond their verbal spats. Color is also perhaps the simplest motif, but that doesn’t make it any lesser in its potency.

In fiction, color is an easy way for the audience to learn as fast as possible who’s on whose side, and who their opponents are, and today, we’re going to look at a few.

But first: Crash course into color theory:

Warmer colors evoke passion or uncertainty, movement and excitement, happiness and warmth, but also rage, aggression, love, and lust. The cooler colors evoke sadness and serenity, but also youth and spring and winter and death.

Most of the time when a creator wants to juxtapose color in a narrative or other work, they’re going to use inverses, just google one of the hundreds of teal and orange movie posters. Inverses are whatever colors lie at opposite sides of the wheel. Blue and Orange, Red and Green, Purple and Yellow. These pairs show up either in opposition, or as an ensemble of one character or a group or team.

Part 1: Black and White

Yes it has grounds in racism, but black and white are also accepted to mean chaos and order, good and evil, death and life.

In a show like Lost, themes of black and white are constant. The black and white backgammon pieces, the colors of the Dharma station logos, the show’s main title card, God stand-in Jacob (Lucifer from Supernatural), and his unnamed brother, the Man in Black.

Black and white show up *everywhere,* in some places subtler than others. In fiction with a male and female lead, if they are coded in black and white, the man is almost always the one in black. Black means strength and mystery and this deep, almost corrupted darkness. White is purity, femininity, youth, and nurturing, when a woman wears it, unless she's the villain.

Villains in white are very often surprise villains:

The White Witch (Chronicles of Narnia)

Saruman (Lord of the Rings)

President Coin (Hunger Games)

Hans (Frozen), Mayor Bellweather (Zootopia), Auto (Wall-E)

Elizabeth from Pirates of the Caribbean is an interesting case. She begins the first movie wearing light colors and being trapped in the pure and lawful life of the governor’s daughter. She ends her arc in the third movie in solid black (through several costumes) a badass Pirate King and wife of the new Captain of the Flying Dutchman.

Men in black are chivalrous, dark knights, or morally grey vigilantes, silent badasses, or edgy badboys. Black is also of course reserved for villains a la Darth Vader, or Severus Snape and Voldemort and a million others. The "Black Knight" is his own trope, whether he's in a fantasy setting or not.

Women in black are temptresses, or seductive badasses. Black is the color of corruption, sin, and angst in western media 9 times out of 10 unless a narrative wants to subvert it.

I could do an entire essay on black and white in Lord of the Rings alone but here's a few other contrasts: The white Tower of Ecthelion, Minas Tirith, the "White City", the White Tree, Gandalf the White. The Black Riders, Black Speech, Black Land of Mordor, Orthanc (Saruman's Tower).

But you don’t have to make your character’s entire costumes black and white, no, you can just make their hair light and dark.

Part 2: Hair

**Possibly also because racism but we don’t have time to unpack all that right now**

When you have your male protagonist and his male foil, love interest, competition, companion, lancer, or villain, most of the time (in western media where blonds are in abundance) the more noble or “good” character of the two will be blond, the other brunet, especially in a love triangle. If two male characters have opposing ideologies on any level, they will often have opposing hair. A male and female lead duo will also tend to have opposing hair, but it’s most obvious what they’re doing when it’s two dudes and not just coincidence.

Here’s a nonexhaustive list, with the brunet first (ignoring if the adaptation was faithful):

Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamnee (LoTR)

Aragorn and Boromir (LoTR)

Aragorn and Theoden (LoTR)

Denethor and Faramir (LoTR)

Thorin and Bilbo (Hobbit)

Jack Shephard and James “Sawyer” Ford (Lost)

Jack Twist and Ennis Del Mar (Brokeback Mountain) *Also have opposing hats*

Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent (The Dark Knight)

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers (Marvel)

Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers (Marvel)

Loki and Thor (Marvel)

Nico di Angelo and Will Solace (Percy Jackson)

Percy Jackson and Jason Grace (Percy Jackson)

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson (the Cumberbatch one)

Sam Winchester and Dean Winchester (Supernatural)

Edmund Pevensie and Peter Pevensie (Chronicles of Narnia)

Gale Hawthorne and Peeta Mellark (Hunger Games)

Damon Salvatore and Stefan Salvatore (Vampire Diaries)

Tom Buchanan and Jay Gatsby (2013 Gatsby)

Caledon Hockley and Jack Dawson (Titanic)

Notable nonexhaustive exceptions:

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy (Harry Potter)

Percy Jackson and Luke Castellan (Percy Jackson)

Jacob Black and Edward Cullen (Twilight)

Batman and Superman (DC Comics)

Luke Skywalker and Han Solo (Star Wars)

Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars) *wardrobe makes up for it*

*Feel free to tag the ones I missed

Not every brunet on the list is a “bad” guy, nor is every blond the “good” guy, but compared to each other, the brunet tends to be the more morally grey, the more corrupted, the one who’s ideologies end up getting them hurt or killed or proving them wrong. Or, the brunet faces more demons, has a darker personality, or tends to have a “shoot first ask questions later” philosophy.

This of course goes out the window if the media is set in a region or with a cast of characters who are meant to share similar features, like how there’s no blondes at all in Last Airbender (otherwise Aang would absolutely fit the pattern).

Whether that’s Frodo getting corrupted by the Ring and Sam being his rock, Jack Twist getting murdered while Ennis lives on, or the beloved Dark Knight and his bat-black demons while Harvey’s White legacy saves Gotham, next time you write a brunet and his blond competition, ask yourself just why you’re doing it.

*Side note, I’m pretty sure Harvey Dent, when he’s animated, is usually a brunet, but he’s also usually Two-Face by then and no longer a hero*

I don’t even have time for black and white in anime or the trope of the white-haired anime boy and since natural hair colors are kind of moot, I don’t think the same rules apply. But outside of the westernized “black knight vs white knight” I do want to dig deeper into color motifs in anime at some point.

Here's some notable dark and light dichotomies nonetheless in wardrobe and/or hair:

Kirito and Asuna (Sword Art Online)

Lelouch and Suzaku (Code Geass)

Midoriya and Bakugo (My Hero Academia)

L and Light (Death Note)

Medusa and Stein (Soul Eater)

Sasuke and Naruto (Naruto)

Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Eiji and Ash (Banana Fish)

Kyoya and Tamaki (OHSHC)

Yuri and Viktor (Yuri!!! On Ice)

Dracula and Alucard (Castlevania)

Part 3: Red v. Blue and everything in between

The megalith that is the color motif extends past the white/black dichotomy.

It’s also red and blue.

If red is pitted against blue in any story, red is always the team the audience is supposed to root against, unless this is sports. Red is the color of the Sith, the Fire Nation, red eyes are seen as evil, red is blood and rage and wrath and fire. Red is the color of evil empires. Blue is the color of heroes. It’s water and healing and camaraderie, serenity. Blue is the color of rebels and underdogs.

Red versus blue is in everything from the color of lightsabers in Star Wars to the color of cybertronian eyes in Transformers, to the color of the Water Tribes and Fire Nations (with some exceptions a la Azula’s blue fire) to the colors of the pills in the Matrix. Red is the ‘dangerous’ choice, blue is the ‘safe’ choice. Unless your character is patriotically sporting the red, white and blue of the UK, USA, or France.

Villains usually only wear blue if they're ice-coded, or belong to a faction wearing navy blue uniforms.

Red versus blue also shows up between leaders and their lancers. The first one I can think up off the top of my head is Robin and Raven from Teen Titans.

Purple is also usually lumped in with the bad guys and green with the good guys, but purple and green also show up a ton as contrasting colors of the same character like the Hulk or the Joker. But both can swing either way. The Decepticons in the early cartoons for Transformers had purple everywhere and reclaimed it in Transformers: Prime. Megatron, Soundwave, Shockwave, the Vehicons, Airachnid, and the Dark Star Saber, and some G1s]. Prime also has three sets of red-blue dichotomies within their factions: [Arcee/Cliffjumper, Optimus/Ratchet, and Knockout/Breakdown].

Green is the color of more Jedi, and the Green Lanterns, but green also represents sickness or disease or generic evil energy a la Loki, Dr. Facilier (Princess and the Frog) or the Hyenas and Scar in the Lion King.

Pink is really up in the air, as is orange and yellow, especially when it comes to female characters, especially female anime characters.

But enough about color dichotomy.

Part 4: Color Singularity

Color singularly is either meant to evoke a specific emotion, like using blue everywhere to represent sadness, or it’s meant to be a bold statement in an otherwise grayscale world.

I mentioned a few at the top of the post and I’ll elaborate on them here:

In Great Gatsby, green and yellow are very important colors. The “green light” is this real object at the end of the titular character’s love interest’s dock. This light and this color are motifs that represent Gatsby’s longing for Daisy and to return to a glorious past he can never have again (it’s also the color of American money). Yellow is also everywhere in this book. It’s the color of his chekov’s car and several dresses at his extravagant party. Yellow is the color of his current life of glitz and glam and riches (and is also the color of gold). If you listen to one of the accompanying songs to the 2013 film, Florence and the Machine’s “Over the Love” recognizes the importance of yellow in the narrative.

Dorothy’s red slippers in the Wizard of Oz are hyperbolically bold, especially since the movie starts out in black and white. Color is a huge piece of this film- the Emerald City, the Yellow Brick Road, the horse of many colors. Red scientifically is the color humans tend to notice first, those shoes were made to be remembered. Color in Wizard of Oz is the symbol of the fantastical, which was really helped by the time the film was made and simply seeing so much color on screen dazzled audiences.

Red catches your eye faster than any other color, and red in a world of black and white sticks in your mind, just look at Schindler’s List.

Belle from Beauty and the Beast, along with a lot of fictional women wear blue. Blue is biblically Mary’s color, and at one time was the color marketed to women before the shift to “blue for boys”. In the original Beauty and the Beast, Belle was the only character who wore blue, because she was an outsider, and outlier, a free-thinker. Or at least, Belle is the only one who wears blue until she dances with the Beast. The live-action remake didn’t maintain this extra level of the narrative and that’s a shame.

I didn't mention eye color much above (also maybe because racism) but blue eyes, especially animated blue and green eyes, go to characters who are more hopeful, heroic, nurturing, morally just, honest, or brave than their brown-eyed counterparts, unless he's a blue-eyed Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Blue-eyed people tend to be blond, so the traits go hand in hand for the "good" character.

Weirdly enough, this also applies to blue-eyed animal characters -- your animated anthropomorphised villain is rarely going to be drawn with eyes that aren't brown, black, green, red, orange, or yellow.

Because color is also a subliminal or overt way of foreshadowing in both written and visual media as much as any other motif and recurring symbol. You can foreshadow death, or impending doom, or an eventual identity reveal, whatever you want.

You can also subvert the usual associations with specific colors. Black doesn’t have to mean evil in your world. Black can be life, too. White doesn’t have to be pure, white can be clinical and sterile and lifeless (but please no more lady villains in white pantsuits, that's its own cliche at this point). Shake it up a bit every once in a while.

So whether it’s dueling ideologies or the very forces of good and evil, a harbinger of doom or a secret tell, or community and camaraderie, or an enduring hope, you can represent it all with a careful dose of color.

[queerofcups]

a July rec list

I read a truly absurd amount of fanfic in July, and since I’m tracking my fic reading anyway these days, I figured, why not pull up some faves. I’ll do my best to tag authors when and where I can! I’ll throw some commentary in there to talk about why I like some of them, but rest assure this is a rec list and I think every one of them has something to love. 

Hockey RPF

In the scrawl of the ringside choir E, 37k, Hockey RPF | @goodnightpuckbunny Sid/Geno

“Geno, this is Sid Crosby,” Kris says, sitting back down. The kid towers over both of them, but seems small in the office. “You need a coach, so he’s gonna help you out.” He looks Sid over, eyes scanning like he’s looking for weaknesses, faults in his form. Sid has plenty, but he’s not fighting anymore. He doesn’t bother mirroring the gesture. He can guess without looking. “He old,” Geno eventually decrees. 

Interview with the Vampire

The Vampire Eric

E | 4k | falsescience (@theburialofstrawberries) Eric Bogosian/Jam Reiderson, Jam Reiderson

Oh ho, Eric thinks to himself, and then, aloud, because it’s just too delicious, and wouldn’t Rolin be ashamed, and a little pissed: “Oh ho!” He feels zapped alive: young, powerful, god-like. Jacob starts giggling immediately. “Did you just say ‘oh ho’?” “Or maybe aspen. What do you think, Eric?” “Not a damn clue,” says Eric, with a broad grin. “You look very satisfied. He looks very satisfied, doesn’t he?” Jacob smiles at Sam over his hitched shoulder. “Hm,” says Sam. “I think we play it safe, and go with red maple.” Yeah, Eric is certain: Jacob and Sam aren’t fucking. But they’d like to be.

First of all, I am RPF’ing these people real hard in some private chats. But largely, I like the characterization happening here, and the little turn of understanding that happens in the last third of the fic. 

reformation

E | 44k | verseau (@downstairsbar) Lestat/Louis

we're gonna heal. we're gonna start again. you've brought the orchestra, synchronized swimmers. // It makes him speechless sometimes, how much he loves Lestat. He thought for years, a decade, that it was sickness. It’s not. It’s not. Even when Louis hated Lestat, nothing was more certain than that he loved him.

There’s some great, great plotting and characterization here but/also I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve read a fic and known immediately that the author is Black. That’s obviously not a requirement of the fic I write but it's nice to have Southern Black characters really sound like people I’ve known/grown up around etc. 

let’s keep this off the record

E | 1.4k | anonymous

Louis/Santiago (sort of)

There would be no second chances for the Englishman, no opportunity for him to crawl out of some dump and seek revenge. Louis would make sure of that.

Honestly, I think it's great that fandom has a long and storied history of skullfucking. I think it's fun that weird shit like that still happens around here.

Maman

T | 2k | anonymous Claudia/Madeline, Louis/Lestat

Madeleine meets in the in-laws. Particularly one of them.

transpires

M-E | 5.8k total | familiar (@bigvampo or @camilliar? sekrit you've got so many blogs) Louis/Lestat

I mean, sekrit is just a fucking stellar writer. sekrit’s got a way of telling so much —  about a character, their mental state, the world their in —  in just a few razor sharp details. also these fics are so funny and the characterizations of Louis and Lestat feel like natural progressions from what we’ve seen in canon both in how much they love each other and how terrible they are (to each other and in general)

Harry Potter

Right. I think I’ve always been pretty upfront about my continued reading of Harry Potter fanfiction, but in case it's somehow necessary to say, please do not come to my inbox talking about JK Rowling. I don’t think about that woman and I’m very clear about what she thinks about me. 

Those Three Curses

E | 6k total | @dodgerkedavra Draco/Harry

Obviously I had a bit of a fucking dodgerkedavra moment here, but these blew me away. So much story telling in such little space. 

Former Things Come to Mind

E | 64k | dodgerkedavra

Harry Potter has had a headache for seven and a half years.

In the Presence of My Enemy E | 41k | dodgerkedavra Draco/Harry

All Harry knows is that Sectumsempra is for enemies. He doesn’t know that it will bind him to Draco Malfoy, for better or worse, ‘til death do them part.

Tiny Home

E | 30k | @wolfpants Draco/Harry/Ron

Harry and Ron left the Aurors years ago to travel the world and make up for lost time. When they finally decide to settle roots back in England, together, building a tiny home in the Lake District by hand seems like the perfect plan. What they don't realise is that Draco Malfoy already lives on the plot of land that they choose to build on. A story about years of feelings, about weaving lives in and around each other, and about finding a place safe enough to call home.

I really feel like there’s been an explosion of excellent Draco/Harry/Ron all of a sudden. One of my qualms with a lot of polyship fics is that it's very uhhh “we must do everything together” and I really love that this fic breaks that down and allows everyone to have histories and experiences together as dyads and all together. 

In Our Blood

E | 37k | secretsalex Draco/Harry

Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

I’m not even going to bullshit y’all. This fic reminded me why I love mpreg. Excellent use of body horror, body dread, suspense, all these things. Also, an mpreg fic that remembers abortion is a thing. Amazing!

Probationary Action

E | 63k | @toomuchplor Draco/Harry

As part of the terms of the probationary contract, DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY shall submit for inspection his WAND on the last day of every month, such inspection to be carried out by a duly registered and fully qualified AUROR in the employ of the MINISTRY OF MAGIC, and such inspection to include a PRIORI INCANTATEM spell to ensure that no PROHIBITED MAGICS as heretofore described have been practised by the aforementioned probationer.

I’ve been obsessed with toomuchplor since Inception and this fic reminded me why. I don’t love Auror!Harry fic (truly, just so much unchecked, delighted writing about police brutality) but I do like any fic where Harry starts to wake up to the fact that maybe just because they’re “the good guys”, not every choice made by the Aurors/Wizarding Gov’t in general is right. Also, I appreciate the expansion on the idea of sex charms!

Embers

E | 41k | @shiftylinguini Draco/Harry

Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice. Of course it turns out to be bloody Potter.

idk man, I like a fic that treats sex work like it's just a job. Worthy of respect, full of technical expertise, etc. 

--

Both of these next fics came from @hd-wireless which has been, pound for pound, one of the best fests I've ever witness and is a testament to how important having multiple fic fests in a fandom can be! so much good shit to read!

The most he’s ever said

E | 16k | anonymous Draco/Harry

It takes them twenty years.

Two Houses

E | 11k | anonymous Draco/Harry

Two households, both alike in... meddling Floo connections, apparently? Draco Malfoy is a highly professional and well-respected Ministry official, with a demanding schedule, a loving son, and—through no fault of his own—a faulty Floo connection that keeps regurgitating the Minister for Magic through his fireplace.

I really enjoy that there's been more of a trend of writing about these two as older people and fleshing out the characterization of their kids.

[officalroyalsofpierreland]

Wedding of HRH Prince Oliver of the Scots, Duke of Rothsey & HIH Madame Hortense of Francesim Part 4

Pope Gregorious: Dearly beloved, you have come together here, so that in the presence of the Church’s minister and the community affirm your intention to enter into Marriage. And so, in the presence of the Church, I ask you to state your intentions.

Pope Gregorious: Oliver and Hortense, have you come here to enter into Marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly? Hortense: I have. Oliver: I have. Pope Gregorious: Are you prepared, as you follow the path of Marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live? Hortense: I am. Oliver: I am. Pope Gregorious: Are you prepared to accept children lovingly from God and to bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church? Hortense: I am. Oliver: I am.

Cardinal MacMillian: Since it is your intention to enter marriage, join your hands and declare your consent before the God and his Church. Your Royal Highness, you will go first.

Oliver: Moi, Oliver David Alexander James, souhaite prendre Hortense Rose, Pour épouse, À partir de ce jour et pour toujours, Pour le meilleur ou pour le pire, Dans la richesse ou la pauvreté, Dans la santé et dans la maladie, De l’aimer et de la chérir, Jusqu’à ce que la mort nous sépare. (I, Oliver David Alexander James, take you, Hortense Rose, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; till death separates us.) Stéphane: A beautiful touch by the Duke to say his vows in French. Travis: Indeed. Especially since it is their shared language, as well as the language of love and one that HRH famously struggles with.

Archbishop McCellan: Your Imperial Highness, I now ask that you say your statement of consent.

Hortense: Tha mise, Ròs Horn- tach, gabh thusa, Oil-bheir Daibhidh Alasdair Sheumais, gu bhi 'm fhear-pòsda dhomh, gu bhi agam, agus gu cumail, o'n là so air aghaidh, air son na's fearr, an ni 's miosa, an saoibhreas, am bochd, an tinnis agus an slàinte, a ghràdhachadh agus a ghràdhachadh gus am bàs an dean sinn dealachadh. (I, Hortense Rose, take thee, Oliver David Alexander James, to be my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death do us part.) Travis: Wonderful pronunciation by Madame Hortense. It is such a touching show to the Scottish that she is willing to learn our very difficult language. Stéphane: It has a very melodic quality to it. A strong showing by HIH

Pope Gregorious: May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God who joined together our first parents in paradise,

Pope Gregorious: strengthen and bless in Christ the consent you have declared before the Church, so that what God joins together, no one may put asunder.

Oliver: With this ring I thee wed; with my body, I thee worship; and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus sancti.

Hortense: With this ring I thee wed; with my body, I thee worship; and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus sancti.

Stéphane: With the vows and exchanging of rings, they are married. Travis: Yes. We still have the nuptial blessing, and the signing of the register left. These will be done by Cardinal McGregor. But I think I can safely say, we are now looking at TRH Prince Oliver & Princess Hortense of the Scots, Duke and Duchess of Rothsey.

Travis: And after this brief moment of private prayer, they will be blessed under the coronation canopy, as is tradition for all rulers and heirs to the throne. The Canopy is being supported by HIH Princess Amelie of Francesim, HIH Princess Maria Aisha of Pierreland, HRH Prince Magnus of Argyll & Lord Callen MacDonald. Stéphane: It is moving that the canopy will be supported by those who share a bond with the couple, Princess Amelie and Lord Callen as their main witnesses and clearly the closest to the couple but also Prince Magnus as not just the oldest cousin to the groom but Prince Oliver's oldest friend and Princess Maria Aisha as not only cousin to the groom but goddaughter of the once more Princess Hortense.

Cardinal McGregor: Look now with favor on these your servants, joined together in Marriage, who ask to be strengthened by your blessing. Pour your love into their hearts, that they may remain faithful in the Marriage covenant.

Cardinal McGregor: May the grace of love and peace abide in your daughter Hortense and let her always follow the example of those holy women whose praises are sung in the Scriptures. May her husband entrust his heart to her, acknowledging her as his equal and his joint heir to the life of grace, he may show her due honor and cherish her always.

Cardinal McGregor: May they be blessed with children, and prove themselves virtuous parents, who live to see their children’s children. And when they together reach the fullness of years, come into the life of Heaven. Amen.

Travis: And now as tradition at the end of all royal events, the National Anthem.

All: God save our gracious King, Long live our noble King, God save the King! Send him victorious, Happy and glorious, Long to reign over us, God save the King!

Stéphane: And now, they are going to sign the register, alongside their witnesses, the King & Queen, the Emperor and Madame Mere. Travis: Traditionally, all family over 18 will also sign, but they will do it after the ceremony. This will include Empress Charlotte, the Emperor and Empress of Pierreland and the Queen and King of the Ionian Union. Quite the royal filled register.

@empiredesimparte @royalhouseofcarrington @bridgeportbritt @nexility-sims @simsroyallegacy @trentonsimblr @covingtons

[tinyladofladdies]

what is the Gospel?

history . .

there is one God in 3 persons: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

God existed before anything else did; He created all things perfectly, including human beings, who He made in His image (Genesis 1:1, 26-28, John 1:1-3). God is the only holy, perfect Being in existence, and He created us to know Him forever.

God created humanity to partner with Him in ruling His perfect creation, however, humanity quickly fell into rebellion when adam & eve listened to temptation from satan, the serpent. the serpent twisted God's Word and adam & eve trusted in their own judgement rather than God's and listened to their selfish desire to define good and evil for themselves instead of letting God show them what was holy & good (Genesis 3).

adam & eve were cast out from God's perfect garden, severing ALL of humanity's relationship with God and separating us from His presence. because of this original sin (disobeying and distorting God's Word), all of humanity is born in a sinful state. the serpent, too, was cast from the garden and since the original sin, has been influencing the world into more and more evil, temptation, and distance from God. however, God promised that there would be a Descendant from eve Who would crush the serpent's head and defeat him (Genesis 3:14-15).

the sinful state of humanity causes all of us to be separated from God from birth and into eternity; sin cannot coexist with utter purity & holiness (Romans 6:23, 8:7-8).

God stayed faithful in taking care of humanity even despite our separation from Him; He made promises to abraham, isaac, and jacob, and their descendants (the jewish nation israel named after jacob), that they would be God's people and He would be their God (Genesis 22:17, Jeremiah 32: 38). He promised to multiply them, making them a countlessly large nation, to set them apart from the other nations to show the world what God is like (Deuteronomy 7:6), and to send them a Savior who would restore all things and bring justice (Isaiah 9:6). God gave them His Word and fulfilled every promise to them; He rescued His people many times from oppression and the downfall of their own mistakes, yet not even His holy people could stay obedient to God. God gave them His law (found in the 5 books of the Torah) to show His people how to be holy (set apart) and to show them who He is and what He values; in order to be worthy to enter God's presence, there would be animal sacrifices and sanctification rituals (Leviticus 16:21) in order to atone for the sins of Israel (God's people), yet none of His people were perfect and kept rebelling against Him.

God started sending prophets into the world, spoken to by His Holy Spirit who divinely inspired the Word of God (the entire Bible), to warn Israel of the gravity of their sins; soon, if God's people would keep participating in evil and turning away from God, they would be exiled from all of the peace and possessions God had promised them and fulfilled them with.

the prophets spoke of Jesus, who, centuries later, fulfilled every single prophecy spoken of Him . .

The Good News . .

Jesus is God, described as the Son of God and the Word of God become human; Jesus took on human flesh yet stayed completely sinless (Hebrews 4:15). He gave His life in the place of all of humanity, not just Israel, in order to extend God's grace, salvation, and presence, to anyone of any background who would repent and call upon Him (Hebrews 2:17, Galatians 3:8).

"The Gospel" means "the Good news."

to repent, means to completely turn around.

atone, means to make amends.

Jesus became the sacrificial lamb (symbolically) in order to fulfill the law of sacrifice that God's people used to participate in in order to enter God's presence (John 1:29, 1 Peter 1:19); because Jesus is God and was the only One holy enough to perfectly atone, this means that Jesus' sacrifice not only fulfilled every law and prophecy, but humanity finally had the chance to be in right-standing with God (1 Timothy 2:5). this means, that instead of being enemies of God, being estranged or distant from God, we now have the right to become God's children, His people, and His friends (Romans 5:10, John 1:12). to repent of our sins, means to pray to God our Father and confess our sinful nature, our rebellion, and the things we have done that have hurt our relationship with God as well as hurt ourselves & those around us. by confessing, we ask for God's forgiveness, we confess who Jesus is and what He did for us, and through this, we receive the Holy Spirit who testifies that we are God's children and Who seals our salvation in Heaven for eternity (Romans 8:16, 2 Corinthians 1:21-22).

Jesus came to earth as a human, yet also 100% God; He lived a perfect life, started His ministry at 30 years old, baptised, healed, drove out demons, and taught of God's character, Word, and Kingdom. Jesus was persecuted by the nation of Israel in order to fulfill the prophecies, He died on a cross, was tortured and killed in our place, and after 3 days He rose from the dead, to fulfill every prophecy (Mark 8:31). in Jesus' death and resurrection, He defeated our sins, He defeated the enemy (satan), and He defeated death. setting us free, giving us eternal life and forgiveness from the Father if we repent and believe that this is Who Jesus Is.

in Jesus, there is forgiveness, peace, healing, joy, & hope (Galatians 5:22-23, 1 Peter 1:3). God heals, God saves, God loves, His Spirit guides and reassures every believer and Jesus completely sets us free; no matter what you have said or done, no matter how much seems to hold you back, Jesus breaks every chain and meets us where we are, however, He loves us too much to leave us as we are. Jesus gives us the ability to live the life of righteousness (right-living) that God intended for us that we were not able to fruitfully & fully do without Jesus and without God's active help. for all time, God has kept His promises and His Word, He has kept His covenant with those He chose to be His people, and while those people always failed, Jesus never has and never will; Jesus fulfilled our side of the covenant, He paid the price that had to be paid for our sins, and in doing so, we can now have relationship with God for eternity, we can now partner with God in loving His people and doing the work of His Kingdom. God is always near, always present, and desires to help you, heal you, and save you.

there will be more Bible verses below that specifically address salvation & repentance; if you need more context or have more questions, this is a safe space to do so. <3

Acts 4:12 — Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.”

John 14:6 — Jesus answered, "I am the way, the Truth, and the life. no one comes to the Father except through Me."

Acts 2:38 — Peter replied, “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.

John 3:16-17 — For God so loved the world that He gave His One and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him.

Romans 8:38-39 — For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 10:9-10 — If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved.

Hebrews 7:25 — Therefore He is able to save completely those who come to God through Him, because He always lives to intercede for them.

Luke 5:31-31 — Jesus answered them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”

Acts 3:19 — Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord,

Mark 16:16 — Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned.

Romans 10:13 — for, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

Romans 3:23 — for all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.

Acts 22:16 — And now why are you waiting? Arise and be baptized, and wash away your sins, calling on the name of the Lord.

‭‭Romans‬ ‭6:23‬ ‭— For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

◌🌊🐚Ꮚ°˳´ creds . .

dividers: roseraris

[tamamita]

why jewish people say "theyre chosen by god" why? what did they do?

Abraham (as) was steadfast and remained in submission to the One True God in a society full of idol worshiping, as a result God gave him the task of fulfilling various errands to prove Abraham's (as) loyalty to Him. Abraham (as) succeeded in all of this and God promised him a great nation through Isaac (as) and Jacob (as).

The Israelites were named after Jacob (as), who would later be named Israel (as), after he wrestled with the agent of God. The Israelites were chosen by God because that was God's promise to Abraham (as). When He liberated the Israelites from Pharaoh, Moses (as) ascended Mount Sinai and claimed the Torah + the Ten commandments and being instructed with consecrating the Tabarnacle As long as the Israelites upheld God's laws, His promise to Abraham (as) and Moses (as) would remain. Failed step one; some of the Israelites immediately worshipped the Golden Calf, which led to God's punishment to wander the deserts of Egypt for 40 years until they reached the Holy Land. As you can see, being favoured by God comes at uhh a cost (?).

Anyways, the Israelites were not superior to other nations since they were given the task of upholding God's covenant. Think of it in the sense of your mother assigning you with the dishes, while your brother doesn't need to. The difference is that you get to have some candy after you finish your task. Either way, every other nation were given other commandments (see the Noahide laws), and as long as they upheld these seven laws, God would bless them. But the Israelites were specifically chosen for the task God had given them at Sinai, which is not as easy as it sounds when you read through the 613 Mitzvot. Nevertheless, as long as they abided by the Torah, God's favour would remain there. Of course, the Israelites would be challenged by difficulties, and the kingdom of Israel would suffer several setbacks as a result of various deviations from the Commandments according to the Tanakh. But despite these punishments, God's promise remained as long as they abided by the Torah.

The idea that Jewish people are the chosen people of God is affirmed by Christians and Muslims as well.

[see-arcane]

Blood of My Blood: The Law's Delay

Shout out to @ibrithir-was-here for putting up with my never-ending goal of overfilling the glorious Blood of My Blood AU with my ramblings and extra shout out to @everchangingfungusthoughts and @animate-mush for tripping me down the slope of Writing Another Text Brick. Specifically via this whole thing.

Summary: Jonathan Harker, now fifteen years deep into his life at Castle Dracula, finds himself the unwilling guest of yet another frightful host and his company. Talk and violence and time tick by.

The sun sinks low.

The dead travel fast.

And a vital Lesson is taught regarding the Law of the land.

Warnings for graphic violence, suicide, and murder.

Jonathan’s head ached.

Partly from the agonized spot at the back of his skull where the cudgel had struck. Mostly from the state of his current company.

They were nomads, he knew, but not Dracula’s men. This lot were too fresh for that. In fact, some wore tailoring that the locals weren’t accustomed to apart from tourists and the occasional city dweller passing through. He wouldn’t bet money on how many were ‘donated’ from past victims and how many were afforded through helping themselves to said victims’ purses and personal cheques. They were a dapper group, whichever the case.

From what he picked up while feigning unconsciousness, there was someone missing from their assembly. Someone’s…paramour? Wife? A young woman close to the presumed leader. Some grousing about superstitious idiots. Counter-grousing about precaution and history and how somebody’s cousin’s friend was slaughtered by the ‘superstitions.’ A third sect was grumbling about how thin Jonathan’s pockets were for a supposed noble, monster or not.

“A half-full purse and a few strips of dried pork don’t particularly line up with your theory, Jacob.”

“Props, idiot. Would some common huntsman be wearing what he wears? Would he have these?”

Jonathan heard the heavy jingle of his set of the castle’s keys. They had taken the ring of them from its chain among a handful of other lightweight treasures. All that and his wedding ring. That would cost them.

“Oh, yes. Of course. Because all the revenants who run a swatch of the Carpathians’ government are surely wandering around with frightful things like jerky and house keys.”

“Are you blind? Do these look like house keys? Half of them look older than the mountains!”

“Well, perhaps that is the ‘prop’ of his property, eh? A fancy set of keys made to look old. They certainly haven’t any rust. It wouldn’t be a terrible gimmick these days. Everyone is a fiend for the local bogeyman or a good haunting. I would do tours with my own castle, dribble a little red sauce on my lip, charge a fee for the thrill and the courtesy of not killing anyone on the way out.”

“You talk like it’s a joke. This, when I was raised in these godforsaken crags, and my own neighbor lost their newborn and its mother in the same night! The father blew his brains out when he found what was left of them in the forest. His forest.” The words were hissed in Jonathan’s direction. “God! If we had known how easy it was to take him by daylight!”

There was a snort. The leader’s voice. Sour.

“You say ‘we’ like you weren’t still in nappies, Jake. Like the castle in question isn’t a fortress on a cliff in the dead center of the mountains, all covered with wolves and your frightful bloodsuckers. What would Mama and Papa do if they knew better back then? March all the way up with the neighborhood and hope they made it in time before sunset? That’s assuming the advised tools of the trade actually mean anything against the bastard in question. If he’s as old as legends claim, throwing himself through a hundred wars’ meat grinders with his head and heart and all his other giblets getting minced, with him still standing after it, who’s to say an axe and stake are enough?”

A kick was delivered to the chair Jonathan sat bound to.

“Assuming this piece of work is said bastard.” Spoken with equal parts resignation and frustration. “I’ll grant he looked a bit off in broad daylight. Sure as hell would pass for a cadaver. But if this is the man who had your slovenly little villages soiling themselves after dark, I’m not impressed.”

Snickers from most of the room. A few grimmer sounds from the believers.

“If you don’t believe us, then—,”

“I believe in precaution, Jake. There are strange things in the world. If we want to believe that talking pile of dust, Vordenberg, who I’ll admit was a museum exhibit in his own right, we had us a near miss back in Gratz. So, fine. We finish this in the fashion of the locals. We can even set the pieces on fire if it makes you happy. Not the point. The point is—,”

A hand caught in Jonathan’s hair and wrenched his bowed head up, making the back of his skull throb anew.

“—we know Katrina was seen with you last, you ghoul.”

Jonathan opened his eyes. It had a noticeably sobering effect on much of the room. His host even eased his hold enough to stop trying to rip Jonathan’s hair out. A glance was spared for the assembled party. Easier now that he wasn’t doing it through his lashes. They really were a well-dressed bunch. One of them even wore the silver watch taken from Jonathan’s pocket quite well, though it clashed somewhat with the dagger he was fiddling with. He’d sprung for a handle with a gold hilt.

“Well?” He received a last yank before the man flung his head against the back of the chair. “Where is she?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know anyone by that name. Could you describe her?”

“Oh, I doubt if she would give her real one out to anyone. But we know you know her, Count.”

Jonathan felt the headache blossoming into a migraine.

“Count?”

“Dracula,” the one called Jacob grated out. He stood close to the table with his hand near the aforementioned tools of the trade. A wood axe. A sharpened garden stake and a sledgehammer. Matches. But he, like the rest of his friends, was content to leave his other hand resting on the pistol at his hip. “Don’t think you can throw your word games around here, you leech. You are not boyar here. You are not even a monster by daylight. Just a man—,”

“A man I am talking to, Jake,” from the leader. He turned back to Jonathan. “You see we have some bias in the retinue. Now, Jake and his cadre believe you are, in fact, the same awful old man who likely played out his Báthory fantasies by killing off a few local rustics for kicks once upon a time. Same white hair, same carcass complexion, and some properly unhealthy-looking windows of the soul. As an aside, you have the same body heat as a slab from the butcher. If you had a chance of living beyond today, I might have recommended you see a doctor about your circulation.

“Because I, like the bulk of the room, am of the belief that you are Count Dracula in the sense that the original Count and some Countess loved each other very much and managed to squat your malformed self out into the world before croaking. And, before departing, father dearest passed on the family tradition of idly killing off whoever was convenient as a little hobby. Am I near enough?”

Jonathan said nothing. Chiefly because he was fighting a wave of nausea, but also because it allowed him to keep his gaze steady. The westward window was visible over his host’s shoulder.

“I asked you a question.”

“I will answer if you tell me how you possibly concluded that a middle-aged man walking in the woods was a nobleman.”

To his surprise, the man revealed his evidence: the tarnished gold clasp of a dragon sitting against a garnet setting. This would also cost them.

“Hard to imagine the average hiker idling around in that corner of the wilds with this particular emblem on his coat.”

“That’s true,” Jonathan nodded. “I am not a hiker or a hunter any more than I’m a count. I am only the castle’s retainer.”

“Ah, well. That’s different. We are men of the people, sir, and we take pride in doing our fellow servile class the courtesy of a quick death. It’s only the aristos and nouveau riche who get the extra effort. Them and bleached out old bastards who go around taking what’s ours. What’s mine.” Jonathan watched the man slide a handsome pearl-handled blade from his pocket. It had a very fine edge. “Case in point, a certain young lady, of the flaxen and doe-eyed variety, being spotted in town with an older man of very unique description, not two days ago. Who she left with in his goddamn caleche.”

The blade came down in a gleaming arc. It sank cleanly into Jonathan’s left shoulder. Jonathan screamed at this and at the blade being flicked out. The steel was wiped clean on his sleeve.

“It should go without saying,” the leader said over Jonathan’s noise, steadily dwindling into hard breaths behind his teeth, “that the locals have a few choice theories about just who and what the man driving those horses is. Human? Dead? Dracula or one of his cohorts? Anyone who’d know for certain is either underground or a living antique themselves. Oh. But they did point out you seemed polite enough, according to most. Not someone anyone is eager to shake hands with, but fair. If you are the old devil of before, the younger generation are relieved you’ve gone mellow with the new century. Well done on the new leaf.”

“They were lying,” Jacob intoned, the picture of exasperation. “We all used to lie about him! He had eyes and ears everywhere! You didn’t mention him aloud unless you wanted to wake up to your child missing or you yourself being drunk dry or taken apart! I’m telling you, Katrina is already gone or worse!” His hand clutched eagerly at the whittled garden stake. “Let us be done with this, Anthony.” 

Anthony gave his blade another cleaning swipe. He opened his mouth—

“The stake is wrong.”

—and closed it. He and the others peered down at Jonathan as he righted himself against the chair. The migraine was marching in circles around his head now, lighting fireworks and banging pans. At least his shoulder was a small distraction.

“Say again?”

“The stake. You haven’t finished the end of it. If you don’t burn the point down, harden it, the wood will just splinter if you don’t get it in one blow. One of you took the flint lighter from my coat, yes? Use that and save yourself the matches.”

The room looked owlishly at him. Jacob and his small band especially. Awkwardly, one of the latter fished out the stolen lighter and began cooking the point with its steady flame.

“See that? He’s already feeling accommodating.” Anthony clapped his palm with heavy chumminess against the wounded shoulder. Jonathan winced appropriately, stealing another squinting glance at the window. “Care to keep in this giving mood, or would you like me to even things out?” The blade pointed airily at Jonathan’s right shoulder.

“No need. I said before, I do not know anyone named Katrina. But I did give a ride to a young woman two days ago. Not ‘flaxen,’ though. Her hair was red.”

Anthony abruptly straightened. The blade twisted and fidgeted in his fingers.

“Red,” under Anthony’s breath. His brow furrowed. “She took the wig too?” There was a low murmur from the less vampirically-invested portion of the group, of that specific tone that declares ‘I told you so’ by vowels alone. Anthony whirled on these members like a viper. Several mouths snapped shut. “Did you lot have something you wished to share? Hmm? I’m all ears.”

Interest increased in the state of each other’s shoes, the floor, the lovely view of the mountains, and the progress of the stake. It was now neatly blackened and free of loose slivers. Jacob stood by with it, toying with it as Anthony had his knife. He kept trying and failing to meet Jonathan’s gaze.

“Ah,” Anthony grinned mirthlessly, “that’s what I thought you said.” The blade flashed. “Now, Count, Retainer, Whoever or Whatever, while you are being forthcoming, is she alive or dead? I confess I might be just as happy with one or the other at this point, so no need to fret over a lie.”

“She was alive the last time I saw her. I dropped her off outside Bistritz,” Jonathan said, clearly recalling turning the horses toward Bukovina. He winced again as Anthony laid a hand on the bleeding shoulder, driving his thumb against the wound as he leaned.

“And? How did the bitch pay for her ride? Did you introduce her to necrophilia or did she just throw my money at you?”

“Neither. I am a married man and you can tell I had no bank vault in my pockets. In any case, I must assume whatever she took from you was fair recompense.” Jonathan felt a shift come through him. The old cold tilt that made him lean three-quarters of the way out of humanity and into something else. Whatever it was that lit his eyes and froze the air around him. That made the entire room shift an unconscious inch back. “Considering the state of her face.”

Anthony’s own countenance squirmed between aggravation, anger, and a surreal flash of embarrassment. As if leaving the girl’s face mottled with patches in shades of plum and charcoal was the equivalent of friends overhearing a marital spat in the next room. The man’s lip curled, making the well-trimmed whiskers twitch.

“Do forgive me if my decorum isn’t up to your standards, sir. I tend to get a touch irate when the thankless sow I’ve been bedding not only comes within inches of blowing our cover over some brat who went and poked his head out at the wrong time, but has the gall to try and resign after a few threadbare months. As if I didn’t scrape the little strumpet out of the gutter with my own hands.” A storm roiled in the man’s face. “Had a whole life of gold ahead of her, getting to play out her idiot actress dreams, and she thanks us by taking off with three hotels’ worth of work. Over a goddamn toddler. But that is the way with women, isn’t it? Always falling apart over a babe.”

“Men as well, in my experience,” Jonathan hummed. His line of sight drifted back to Jacob, whose attention was now firmly split between Jonathan and the view from the west window. Even halfway through spring, the sunsets did still tend to rush in the mountains. Shadows were already starting to stretch.

“Personal experience?” Anthony asked with an appraising glance that saw value in the negatives with Jonathan’s mien. “Is there a little Dracula pup crawling around nursing on the countryside?”

“Oh, no. He’s grown out of crawling. Apart from roaming along the castle walls, when he wants to surprise me. There’s no getting away with it with his mother.” Jonathan swallowed a bitter lump, knowing it had to be heard aloud, “Or his father.” Jacob was looking at him now. This time Jonathan held his eyes as they grew an increment wider. A slight dew of sweat had formed on the young man’s brow. “I only know where they are half the time. But they can always find me.”

Anthony barked an acidic note that tried to be a laugh.

“Is this the part where you tell us you’ll be missed? That there’s some cavalry who will come seeking vengeance? Please spare yourself the storytelling. If you were anything other than a relic living off a skeleton staff you wouldn’t be driving your own horses or puttering around by your lonesome. Really, what we’re doing here is a public good. What’s the loss of one more parasite riding into the twilight of peerage’s relevance?”

“Regrettably, he has thought ahead on that,” Jonathan admitted. “The gold he’s already sitting on is kept partly for emergency seed money, but mostly as a memento. He’s been on top of the capitalistic pulse since 1652 going by the oldest records. Given another decade, I believe he’ll be a magnate in a dozen industries from here to the United Kingdom.” A genuine moue puckered his face. “He calls it investing in the live-stock. No, I didn’t think it was funny either.”

This he addressed to Jacob.

Jacob, who had to set the stake down because his hand was shaking.

Jacob, who had been keeping watch of him and the window and seen how blandly Jonathan greeted the approaching dusk.

Jacob, who had finally taken a closer look at what Jonathan wore under his coat. His coat, worn because he was always cold—a chill that he truly felt. Covering an ensemble of boots, long sleeves, and a high collar. In mid-April. 

“…You still have time,” Jonathan told him gently. “If you had your childhood here, you know there’s time. You still wear your crucifix, yes?” Jacob flicked his gaze up to Jonathan’s. His whole face seemed to shine with perspiration. He did not know what was wrong yet, what piece was missing, but he scented something. “Do you? Any of you?”

Jacob nodded jerkily. The men behind him did likewise. Some fidgeted at their shirts.

“That’s good. It sickens them, did you know? Stings them away from the throat.” Jonathan smiled for him. A sad curl. “Hold it out before you if you like.” He tipped up his chin. Just above the shirt collar was a glimpse of sickish color against the maggot-white skin. Something worse than a bruise. “You can check. Or ask one of your friends. But it does help to know for certain. To have it confirmed.” The smile grew worse in its apology. “There have been no vampire attacks in Transylvania for the past fifteen years. The youngest around here take it all as local legends. Parents’ and grandparents’ fairy tales. Because they grew up without knowing what you do. Without realizing why people stopped disappearing after dark when Count Dracula still rules here. When there are still sharp mouths to feed up in his mountains.”

Jacob gawped openly now. He looked strangely like the boy he might have been fifteen years ago, hearing his neighbors whisper and moan about the latest loss in the night. Fifteen years ago, when a foolish young Englishman had come to Castle Dracula, and everyone had known. No one had seen him again…supposing one belonged to a family who had moved away at last, daring their monstrous master’s ire to save their son.

“Oh, for God’s sake, what is this? Are we playing theatre now?” Anthony and his handful of fellow eye-rollers looked between Jonathan and Jacob as if expecting to spot some invisible party holding up script cards for them. “Jake, if you want to play at slaying the vampire, you are welcome to it. Get your stick and your hammer and have at it. Erik, take the axe.” He waved his blade like an impatient conductor with his baton. “Well?”

Jacob moved forward without the stake. His crucifix was held out as far as the cord would allow.

Then he hooked Jonathan’s shirt collar and pulled it open.

Jonathan hadn’t been able to get a good look at the full state of himself in some while. Occasionally he might steal a glance in a mirror for sale or a clean shop window in town. There was rarely anything good to see as far as his development went. Age was not weathering him the way it would an ordinary man. What should have become the easy creasing of crow’s feet and smile lines had given way to something sunken and grey. More than a few children had come to nickname him ‘Herr Geist’ when he passed through. On one occasion, he’d been approached by an American claiming to be a talent scout for a circus who thought Jonathan could easily bill as, The Walking Corpse.

But that was all just the effect of his face. He hadn’t seen his throat or a clear view of his shoulders in years; the real estate with the greatest number of visits for fifteen years. It had to be at least twice as unpleasant a sight as his forearms, pocked by only one hungry mouth’s nursing. To judge by the shudder of revulsion that jolted the entire room back on its heels, his neck was apparently quite the visual.

To judge by Jacob’s expression, the discolored map of ruined skin and old punctures was his own obituary in all capitals. Nor was it a very peaceful end it spelled out. His eyes rolled up to Jonathan’s like wet marbles. Jonathan could no longer maintain his smile, however somber. There was only condolence in the look.

“I told you. I am Castle Dracula’s retainer. At least, in the sense of a retaining wall. I have played the role of its inhabitants’ personal bloodletting pantry for a quarter of a century. Which would be cause enough to worry. But I am also a married man and that is worse.”

Jacob wobbled on his feet like a sapling in a high breeze. He almost fell over with a cry when the first thunderclap boomed over the cabin’s roof. A horrified look shot to the westward window. Sunset was less than a jagged slit across the mountaintops, already erased in the smear of a rushing storm. Lightning drew livid eyes in the clouds.

“I am sorry. You might have had a chance if you hadn’t been cautious,” Jonathan went on. “There would have been a coin toss if you had simply shot me dead in the forest. I fear I am testing everyone’s patience in that household by keeping to my contract against turning until the twenty-year mark. Special occasion and all that. But if you had gone with a bullet or a slit throat, that would mean that I would be undead by sundown. You would still be slain for trespassing on private property,” he gestured to himself as best he could with his bound hands, “but it would have been tidier. They might even be grateful for ripping off the plaster and booting me over the threshold. A mere snapped neck apiece.  

“Unfortunately, I saw your tools of the trade. I heard your plans for ‘destroying the vampire,’ or the madman playing pretend as such. Heart staked, head removed, burn the body. All very thorough. But because I saw and heard these things, they saw and heard these things. Just as they know your faces now.”

Thunder snarled again. An explosive sound joined with a noon-bright flicker of lightning. Wolves sang a violent song. Close.

Jacob’s friends within the gang were talking in frantic tones to each other. The rationalists of Anthony’s side of the room seemed a touch less comfortable where they stood, grasping at their holsters. Anthony himself looked as if he was waiting to wake from a particularly confusing dream.

Jacob’s eyes were running. Pleading. A man only five short years past being a boy.

Jonathan still could not hold a smile for him, but he spoke in the tone he had for Quincey the time he’d came across a bat with a half-broken neck in the forest. Wings smashed, head cracked open, it had been alive in the worst way. Quincey had been thirteen then, considering himself practically a skip away from adulthood. He had still gone to his Papa, eyes dewy with blood trying not to spill, asking please…please…

Jonathan thought back to how his son had hidden in his coat sleeve while he ended the creature’s pain with a brisk twist.

It was quick, you see? It won’t hurt anymore now, shh, it’s alright, son.

“It’s alright,” he said in the present. “You still have time.” Not much. A few minutes at most. But still, “You’ll be safe from it. From all of it.”

Jacob nodded with a twitch. A puppet on a caught string. His hand trembled as it held up the crucifix again.

“…May I keep this? After?” Jonathan nodded. “Thank you.”

Jacob kissed the Cross and tucked it under his shirt.

“Jake, I swear to God, if you don’t drop this act, I will—,”

Bang.

The sound was almost lost in another thunderclap. Not so for the sound of Jacob’s corpse hitting the floor, the new tunnel in his head oozing a scarlet pond out from under his skull. There was a moment of quiet.

Then the wolves bayed again.

The men bayed too. Curses and questions of equal inanity whirled around the room.

Bang.

The sound of Anthony’s own pistol firing a hole through the ceiling.

“Shut. Up. Every one of you, bite your idiot tongues.” The barrel swung to point at Jonathan’s temple. “He says he has people on the way? He says they’re vampires or werewolves or the Four Horsemen a-riding? Then it would perhaps behoove us to think rather than squeal like women over this,” his shoe struck Jacob’s corpse, “fool’s choice of exit. Coward.” He snapped his fingers at the room. “Come on! Block the windows, set up arms! Move!”

And so they moved. Some men scrambled and shouldered into each other trying to cover the windows. Chairs were broken into pieces for stakes. Guns were unpacked and loaded. Erik held the axe as if his hands were welded to it. Anthony, meanwhile, took one of the unbroken chairs for himself and perched at Jonathan’s side. Something between supreme irritation and a baffled sort of wonder shaped his face.

“I do have to give you credit if this is all improvisation on your part. You should have been booked at the Grand Guignol instead of rotting up here.”

Jonathan watched Erik begin to pace, gripping the axe as though it doubled for a shield.

“That or one of those hypnotist acts. Jake was always a nervous one. An easy mark, ironically enough.”

Jonathan’s peripheral caught on Erik’s figure as he came to a stop by the door. There was no peephole to spy through, yet he inclined his head toward it. His ear was cocked as if listening for something under the thunder and wolves.

“But supposing this amounts to something more than an act, I admit I’m curious to see what these things are supposed to be like outside the pulp on the bookshelves or clogging up the stage. Everyone has their opinion on them these days.”

Erik first frowned, then nodded at the bolted door. The anxious creases of his face began to smooth. A smile tugged his lips up as the axe lowered.

“Are they the same kind of horror show as you?”

“Usually quite the opposite,” Jonathan allowed. “But that is by choice. They make some rather impressive exceptions when the occasion calls for it.”

Erik set the axe down. His freed hands moved the wooden bolt aside and reached for the key on its hook. This didn’t go unnoticed. The nearest man, one of Jacob’s friends, jolted toward him.

“Erik, what the hell are you doing?”

“Didn’t you hear her?” Erik spoke over him in a dreaming lilt. “The girl outside. Lovely voice.” He turned the key in the lock. “She and her brother got lost in the storm.” He turned the knob. “Wouldn’t be right to leave them out th—,”

Bang.

Erik dropped like a felled tree. Jacob’s friend whirled on the rest of the room, his gun and free hand up. He had his crucifix worn outside his shirt now.

“I had to! You know I had to! Jacob and old Vordenberg laid it out, didn’t they? You invite the things in and it’s all over!” He pointed at the door with the new stain on its timber. “One of them is out there right now, trying to worm into our heads, so we’ll let it over the threshold.”

As every eye nailed itself to the man and the door and the second corpse within five minutes, no one paid attention to the fireplace. They had not lit it, having opted solely for lamps. Chimney smoke would give away their location to anyone happening by the area.

Only Jonathan stared at the open stone mouth of the hearth. Watching what crawled out. Watching it watch him.

Anthony swatted Jonathan in his bad shoulder. He looked up and realized he’d been asked a question.

“Pardon?”

“Is he. Telling. The truth. Or did Erik lose his brains over nothing?”

“A vampire cannot cross the threshold of someone’s home without invitation. I think, at a stretch, you could call this temporary base of yours ‘home.’ Strict definition is tricky for travelers. But if you declare this place yours—,”

“We do,” insisted half the room in unison.

“We do,” Anthony echoed, somewhat dryly. “Our lovely domicile, this. And we are strictly against welcoming any visitors tonight.”

“Understandable. But there’s still the trouble of this afternoon. It’s hard to be more insistent about an invitation than resorting to abduction.”

“And? What of it?”

The fireplace continued to purge its contents out and out and out. Cooling the room like a thin and steady gust. Heads finally began to turn as gooseflesh spread and the sight became unignorable: A thick mist had been pouring into the room since Erik’s brains splattered on the door.

“You thought I was Count Dracula. Whether I was him or not, he was the man you wanted here.” Jonathan looked Anthony in the eye. He was not surprised at what he found there as it squirmed and sweated. “I’m afraid you invited him in two hours ago.”

The lamps guttered. One snuffed. Then its neighbor. A third, a fourth. Voices raised in tandem with the weapons.

“Light them!” came the universal cry. “Turn them back up, come on!”

But the room blackened and blackened until it came down to one canny fellow who’d dived for a lantern. The same man who’d pocketed the flint lighter. He lit the lantern and set it shakily on the table, its glow seemingly safer than the lamps’. The lighter was almost as bright in his hand, making a spotlight for himself in the ruddy gloom.

“What? What is it?”

Every head was turned to face him. Every eye wide enough to show its whites, like the stares of startled horses. The man opened his mouth to utter a third query—and stopped.

There was a hand on his shoulder. Cold. Far colder than the man he’d taken the lighter from. Its fingers ended in claws.

Above his head, the firelight caught on what might charitably be called a grin. It was, in fact, the default state of Count Dracula’s jaw in this shape. A medley of the wolf and the bat and the nightmares that are born when children’s imaginations first start to sketch the things that will eat them in the dark.

Jonathan wished he could have closed his eyes for all that followed. He did try. But there was an implicit order sunk into his mind that demanded he watch. Had this been a decade ago, this may have been for the sake of an object lesson.

This is what I can do. This is what I would have done to your little hunting party at the right hour, with your guard down for an instant. This is what I will do to any sheltering cattle you try to run away to with wife and child. Watch, my friend. Watch.

But that was practically a lifetime past. They were coming up on a mere five years until the wait was over and his free will and the final fig leaf of humanity was forfeit. Which suggested that he was a captive audience solely for the fact that an audience was desired. There was some artistry to it all, in a medieval sense. Some of the acts performed with the makeshift stakes and the barrels of guns and certain repurposed bones reminded Jonathan of old woodcuts left out for him to see once upon a time, back in that first summer alone with the castle’s Master.  

By the time one of the men died choking on his own severed arm, the rest of the lot stopped shooting and herded themselves to the door, desperate. To their relief, there was no vampire at the threshold. They fled.

A heartbeat passed before the screaming began anew. Gunfire mingled with it. The screaming dwindled down and down, the choir thinning to a single shriek that ended on a terrible sound. Wet and crunching. Wolves were heard soon after.

Anthony had not moved from his position behind Jonathan’s chair. He’d resumed his grip on his hair, this time holding his blade just below the Adam’s apple.

“If you don’t have a head,” Anthony panted at the Count, now busy picking gristle from the spades of his nails, “you can’t be undead. The plays make a lot of fuss about staking the heart, but this?” He tugged Jonathan’s head back another inch and pressed the blade’s edge until the skin broke. “I figure it’s a fair bit more vital. I am a practiced man at my profession and quick when I need to be. You want him in one piece instead of two, you leak yourself out the door, call off your pets, and I’ll send him on his way come sunrise.” Though he couldn’t see him, Jonathan was certain the man was trying to smile. “If you’re amenable, perhaps we can even get a silver lining out of this whole thing.”

Dracula sucked a piece of sinew out of his thumbnail.

“I am accustomed to getting my hands dirty. While I’ve been in the habit of leading assorted hapless dregs around, I can easily see myself following someone worth respect. Your friend here indicated he’s on the edge of retirement anyway, and I imagine you could do with someone to step into the role. Or add to the ranks.”

Dracula busied himself with scanning the floor. He plucked up the silver watch still chained to a torso that was twisted like a wrung washcloth. A scowl was spared upon retrieving the key ring from a puddle of a head. Then the pouch containing Jonathan’s allowance. He deposited each bit of treasure found on the table. The last thing he discovered was Jonathan’s wedding ring. He seemed to ponder flicking it aside, but saw Jonathan watching. The ring was dropped in the pile the way one might discard a clump of dirt.

“Well?” from Anthony. “Do you talk or not?”

“I do,” from the Count. “Though not usually to vermin. Especially ones who raid my pantry.”

“Honest mistake on our part. I hadn’t realized you were the one-in-a-thousand legend that isn’t just the fumes of an invented ghost story.”

“I see.” Dracula bent and retrieved the stake that had its point burned. It left the holster of a man’s sternum with a damp sound. “And this too was a mistake?”

“Just trying to placate the skittish sorts in the party. You saw how Jake was.”

“I did.” The Count tapped the stake’s point against his chin, pondering. “In fact, I think I recall a face like his. A sailor I met once. He took to the sea, having no bullet in reach.” He leveled the stake at Anthony’s head. “You called him a coward for this, yes?”

“Am I wrong?”

“There is a fine line between cowardice and wisdom,” Dracula shrugged. “It moves more than you would think. Little Jacob was wise tonight, if sadly mistaken in his target. He was not the first of his type. Likely not the last. The same goes for you, vermin. You, who squeak and chitter about preying upon the predator, and then try to sell yourself to the cat.” Though much of his face had reset to a human shape, the Count’s teeth remained a bristling forest of white needles when he grinned. “I have had this land in my jaws for half a millennium. I have not gone a single century without your like slinking underfoot, thinking to kiss my cape and offer a tithe of others’ throats to win my favor. My power.”

“Way of the world, isn’t it? Strong bows to stronger. What makes this cadaver,” another jerk on Jonathan’s hair, another throb in his skull, “so special? Better resumé? Seasoned arteries?”

“A number of things.” Another shrug, a twirl of the stake like a toy. “He does so hate to hear it anymore. It has been so long since any kind of praise heartened him and age has made him shy. But he cannot shush me, so I can say he does far more than bleed, be it himself or his victims of old. He certainly has a more impressive history than robbing and gutting tourists for a living, and so is far more attuned to the Law of this land than any other. Not the yapping dogs of mortal authorities. Not your jailor or judge or bureaucrat. Not even those of the sciences, such as they are.”

Thunder cracked and lightning danced. The Count’s eyes burned brighter than the lantern.

“He knows that I am Law in these mountains. That my will, my word, and my want order all that is here. He knows that there is no escaping consequence for trespassing upon what is mine. But.” The Count clapped the stake into his open palm with the joviality of a cruel teacher with his yardstick. “Beyond all this, he is something which guarantees his value over yours or any other’s. He warned you himself.” The jagged grin turned almost saccharine. “He is a married man. And you have kept him out far too late for his spouses’ liking.”  

Anthony shifted behind the chair. The grip on Jonathan’s hair shuddered a moment as if suddenly repulsed to be touching it.

“God. Even the monsters are in on that depravity up here?”

“Depravity is a pastime of mine. But I am not so low as to debase myself by touching filth like yours.” So saying, the Count raised both hands in mock surrender. “I shall not waste my time or teeth on you.”

“Fine. Fine, you say that and I can believe you. Once you’re out the door.”  

The door, still open.

The door, which Anthony had not dared to look at for fear of taking eyes off the Count.

The door, full of mist.

“Ah, but I cannot go yet. There is a show I have been so looking forward to. You mentioned the Grand Guignol. Such a promising establishment! I plan to see it in person some night. But for now, we must content ourselves with your meager scene.”

Anthony opened his mouth to ask something. Say something. Maybe he was just drawing breath. Whatever the reason, his mouth froze in a voiceless O of epiphany.

There was a hand on his shoulder. Cold.

It distracted him from the other, decorated with its simple gold band, locking around the man’s forearm; the one responsible for holding the blade.

Snap.

Anthony’s mouth dropped open wider, belting a screech that left Jonathan’s ears ringing. Then the man was torn away from the back of the chair and all the noise of him was pinned and shrilling on the floor. Laced over the ensuing sounds of his dismantling, both vocal and visceral, was a voice that threaded through the mind more than the ear:

He cut you. Twice he cut you.

“I’ll be fine, Mina.” Said because there was concern in the statement. There was. But, more pertinently, there was the accusation. The condemnation. The citing of the crime.

He cut you. He meant to kill you. He meant to unmake you out of reach forever.

Anthony made a new and piercing noise. The kind just an octave short of a dog whistle. Jonathan winced.

“And he failed to. It’s alright, Darling.”

“Hardly,” from the Count, now turning Anthony’s abandoned seat around to face the slaughter. “You are too soft as always, my friend. Even when it comes to a rightful culling. Or do you think they deserved to live after their crimes?”

“I think this was excessive.” Jonathan withheld a sigh as Dracula hooked the back of his chair, hoisting and turning it so that his back was no longer to Mina’s work. She seemed to have an innate understanding of what could be taken apart and to what degree, the better to leave Anthony still clinging miserably to a thread of life. “And I also think I’m ready to have these off.”

He flexed his hands and feet as far as they could go against the ropes.

“Have what off?” Dracula asked as he swiped a finger into the shoulder wound. A child stealing cake icing. He clicked his tongue. “This would happen just after a feeding. All this guilt-free cuisine and your knights-errant are too full to enjoy the banquet. A pity. Have you eaten?”

“If I had my hands free, I could get my—,” Jonathan pursed his lips as Dracula brandished a bouquet of the retrieved dried pork. Deciding against waiting for the mesmer to prod him into it, he opened his mouth a crack. Bit. Chewed.

“Do you suppose the Grand Guignol has concessions? Any actual blood used in place of the stage swill?”

Jonathan swallowed. A nauseous feat, considering the piece Mina removed from Anthony in the same moment. 

“I doubt any director is so dedicated, Sir.” Anthony was growing quieter now. There wasn’t enough air in him. Jonathan could tell by the glimpse of lung through his ribs. “Does Quincey know about this?”

No. It was blocked from him. He believes we are out on business.

Crunch. Twist. Rip.

Anthony went silent and still at last. Dracula afforded this a light round of applause.

“Not wholly a lie, you will grant. Though I suspect the boy thinks it was code for a more,” the Count made a face caught between glee and disdain, “intimate excursion. Which should be an easy enough ward against any prying you fear from him. You may have made a sickening romantic of the boy, but there is never a child alive or undead who wishes to know what his parents get up to out of his sight.” The Count craned his head, squinting at what was left of Anthony. “Did you come across it?”

That depends. Where’s mine?

Mina stood with the dragon clasp in one red hand and her other held out and open. Dracula idled a moment or three longer than was necessary before the stolen wedding band was produced. Clasp and ring were thrown rather than exchanged. Jonathan had each reattached to him. Though the Count spared a curse in three different languages at finding the coat not only mangled at the shoulder, but torn where the clasp had been ripped away.

“As if they could not understand the mechanics of a brooch? You should have pinned this in his eye.”

You should have fed him the stake. Look at this.

Mina touched the nick on Jonathan’s throat.

I know you count my wound as a blessing, but I would think you’d not risk losing his voice.

“I had to stall while you cleared up the leftovers outside. I may as well have left you with the boy.”

And lost your show and your diversion.

“You—,”

“I cannot feel my feet anymore,” Jonathan announced. “And I would like to stitch and plaster myself before we head out. Whatever Quincey may think we’re up to, it will be easier to lie without me looking like I just left,” he gestured as best he could at the room, “this.”

A minor miracle came and went as there was no suggestion made that they simply lay a new bite apiece over the wounds. The ropes were cut, what was filched was returned to its owner, give or take a little scavenging of their own. Jacob and the others were left with their tokens of the Son. Outside, the wolves went on enjoying the meal Mina had left for them. Up until a titanic thunderbolt struck the cabin and sent them scrambling. The building went up like a great bonfire.

“I know, my friend, you were clearly looking forward to digging more graves. But you must admit my method is quicker and far more thorough in erasing evidence.” The nettling cadence waned. “I suggest you avoid wandering away from the castle for some time. Considering your state.”

Not while dressed in this, at the very least. It’s clear this insignia draws as much ire as it deters.

“A fluke,” the Count huffed. “Such degenerates as those are rare. The chattel know better. Besides, the folly was in drawing attention by playing Good Samaritan to the wrong victim and her maudlin pleading. Something else to keep in mind.” Jonathan tried and failed to keep his head down as the hook landed in his mind and turned his eyes up. Dead blue against burning red. “At least for as long you insist on holding to your last few years as…this.”

Jonathan bit into his last strip of the dried pork. Loudly.

“Five years. That’s all.”

“Four and a half.”

“Four and a half I mean to savor. In-between being waylaid.” The careful placidity fractured as his free hand drifted up to the back of his skull. Still aching. “I think I shall finish off the Golden Mediasch tonight.” His hand was plucked away by Mina’s own, her chilled fingers seeking out the tender place under his hair. Her fingertips felt the scabbing patch.

I should have skinned him.

“You are welcome to stroll through the fire and do so,” the Count hummed. But his smile stopped short of his eyes and his own hand swept Mina’s away to thumb at the ache. “The Mediasch is barely more than fruit juice. You will want something stronger.”

Jonathan didn’t argue. Nor did he protest when the horses of his ex-hosts were commandeered for the return to the castle. Quincey thrilled at the sight of them almost as if they had arrived riding wolves. Was this the business they went on? Tunet and Pretekár were quite new—and solid obsidian as the horses before had been—but it was good to see them gain more company. And they’d picked piebald this time!

“They’re beautiful. Do they have names yet?”

“Thought we’d leave that to you,” Jonathan managed lightly enough. Or nearly so. Quincey frowned at him, nose pricking at the smell of dried blood.

“Papa, are you alright? You—,” his eyes landed on the coat, “—what happened?”

 “Just a quick lesson from our new friends about minding their moods. I was tossed and landed in a less than opportune pile of rocks.”

Quincey scowled at that and scrutinized the stallions.

“Which one? I’m not riding him. Or petting him, even.” He considered. “At least for a month.”

“Seems a cruelty too far. I suppose I just won’t reveal the guilty party.”

“And what if I get on the wrong horse and I get tossed and land on a rock somewhere? What then?”

“Then you will get back up and be perfectly alright. Or am I misremembering the night you fell asleep on the side of the north turret and fell through half a tree on your way down?”

“Yes, well. They were fairly soft branches.” Quincey fought and lost the attempt to keep his smile up. “Papa?”

“Yes?”

“The horses weren’t the actual business, were they? You could have gotten them yourself.”

“That’s true. The horses were only picked up afterward. Quite a bargain, not counting the lumps.”

“Then what happened?”

Jonathan looked at his son. His Sweetheart, though the boy had finally started to bud into that stage that visits all adolescents, demanding a shedding of childhood names. There was a dusting of stubble barely fringing his jaw and his mother’s own whorls outgrowing the edges of his last haircut. But the eyes were still a child’s. Bright and molten as the sun at dusk.

“…There was some trouble two days ago. I aided a girl trying to leave behind some people who hurt others. Who hurt her. They had some less than scrupulous plans for the future and had already bypassed local authorities to get where they were by the time I crossed them. So I reached out for some assistance.” And, because he felt the air prickling with observation, “Your Father was very keen to educate them on the difference between the laws of other lands versus the Law of his land. And your Mum has always been of a rescuer’s bent as a rule. So.”

“So Mum and Father caught them? Together?” The sunset eyes gleamed at the prospect.  

“They did,” Jonathan nodded.

“Were they bandits?”

“Of a sort. But they won’t hurt anyone now.” Jonathan watched from the corner of his eye how the boy, so near to a young man, glowed over the notion of being a son to heroes.

He got to the tower before he felt his eyes begin to sting as sharply as his head.