#enigmatic voyage

[epicstoriestime]

Introducing the Epic Alien: A Cosmic Voyager of Wisdom and Wonder

🚀 Embark on a cosmic odyssey with the Epic Alien—a celestial voyager of wisdom and wonder. Join this enigmatic being as they traverse distant galaxies, unraveling the mysteries of the universe, and embracing the wisdom shared by civilizations across the cosmos. 🌌 Let their journey inspire you to cherish the beauty of both the cosmos and our precious world. #CosmicVoyager #EpicAlien #CelestialWisdom

How would you describe yourself to someone?   In the vast expanse of the universe, picture encountering a celestial being from the far reaches of distant galaxies—an enigmatic cosmic voyager who transcends planetary boundaries. I am the Epic Alien, a being of infinite curiosity, traversing the cosmic highways in search of the wonders of existence and the wisdom shared by civilizations across…

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART ONE

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, death (minor characters), bits of gore, 141 are mean pirates, kidnapping

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

The village was tranquil as you stepped through it, bare feet threading through the soft grass, hands wrapped around the handle of a woven basket. It was peaceful, as it always was, without the souls of townsfolk to burden you. They didn’t dare bother you with the witness of elders around, keeping any torment to themselves until nightfall when the small vendor shops had closed up for the evening and the old folk returned to their homes.

You basked in the warm summer rays that shined down on you as you walked past the various shops. Really, they were far from any real shops, only showcasing simple merchant carts with limited supply for the village to gather, but it was a small village, and everything you needed was for mere survival. You weren’t a greedy woman, and you were plenty grateful.

Stepping up to one of the merchants, you offered a polite smile to the older woman sitting behind it, bowing your head in greeting.

“Hello, Mary,” you addressed, and she perked up from where she stood, occupied with counting together the sum of coins she’d earned throughout the day. She reflected her own smile to you, standing a bit taller. A wrinkled hand lifted to brush strands of her gray hair that had blown astray in the light breeze, revealing her radiance.

“Afternoon, dove,” she greeted in return. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Just need a few more herbs, is all,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away from hers to pick around her cart. Mary always had plenty on hand, and usually snuck you a few extras when you weren’t looking.

“Ah, I see. Well, you know the routine, dove. Feel free to pick as many as you need,” she encouraged. You smiled graciously, collecting a small variety of herbs and plants to place in your basket.

It was a different decision every week, seeing as you often performed trial and error with them in the comfort of your home. Despite many in your village disagreeing with your efforts, you were attempting to learn more about medicines. The village was in desperate need of a proper healer, and a female one at that. The male in current practice was much too biased and reckless, though you were sure to get a mouthful if you were to express the concern.

So, you took it upon yourself. Living in the village rather than out on the mainland, it wasn’t a simple teaching. Resources and education were much more difficult to come by, and it wasn’t deemed necessary information for women to have. It was exactly the reason why you were seen as a bit of an enigmatic outcast to all – all except Mary, of course. Perhaps she simply pitied you.

“This will be all for me, Mary,” you declared, setting the basket on top of her cart. Reaching for the small pouch that rested comfortably on your hip, you dug through it, collecting a few bronze coins and setting them in the old woman’s frail hand.

Mary accepted, placing the coins in her own pouch and throwing you a kind smile. “You sure, dove? Nothing else I can do for you?”

“I’m sure,” you confirmed with a nod. “Still in the experimentation phase, I fear.”

“You’ll get there,” she assured, clasping one of your hands between both of hers and giving it an encouraging shake before releasing. “Perhaps I’ll come visit you one of these days. An old lady like myself could use a few tweaks.”

This elicited a light laugh from you, shaking your head as you grasped the basket. “You look as healthy as a babe, Mary. But yes, please do. You know my door is always open for you.”

The two of you said your sweet farewells before you set off down the grassy trail once again. You passed the other merchants, who didn’t welcome you with the same kindness Mary had, but didn’t scare you away with shrewdness either. It was a typical routine, at this point, for others to look down on you. A woman, unwilling to marry and bear children and instead, studying medicine. A true scandal, some might say.

The walk back to your home was done so without issue, but when your humble abode came into sight, tucked away on the farther side of the village for more private practice, the faces of recognizable men came into view. This was just as frequent as the judgeful side eyes you received, but much more inconvenient.

“Afternoon, dove,” one of the men greeted with a slimy smile, the nickname the village had given you slipping off of his tongue like rotted poison. Dove, a name of something so beautiful, given out of mere pettiness. You were free like a bird, yet you should’ve been confined to your cage. Something pretty to look at, but proving no use. “Never quite got back to me about my courtship.”

Right. You had ignored it on purpose. Though deemed as strange and grotesque by the townspeople, this particular man hadn’t quite gotten the hint. Lucius was his name, fitting, seeing as he was as close to the devil as they came. Conceited and boastful with no decency of leaving you be.

He was awfully determined in wanting to fix you, to make you the housewife everybody expected you to be, just like the other village women. It was common practice, seeing as women didn’t do much other than simply that. While some were quite content with that lifestyle, you sought out more. You didn’t want to be chained down to a simple man who had nothing but arrogance to offer, nor a man you weren’t in love with.

“Yes, that’s quite right,” you confirmed dryly, stepping up to your home. He blocked the doorway, barricading you from entering.

“It’s quite rude for a lady to reject,” he interjected, a devilish smile plastered on his face. You blinked up at him with a look of indifference. “I am only asking for an answer.”

“I believe I’ve told you no plenty of times,” you sighed, adjusting the basket on your hip. “I am simply not interested.”

He sucked his teeth together, glowering down at you from where he stood. It was clear he wasn’t pleased with the answer, but unfortunately for him, it was all he was going to get. You were solid with your decision, and god forbid you did change your mind on being a wife and mother, it would not be with him.

“Can’t change your mind at all, dove?” he asked in fake sweetness, reaching for your hand that wasn’t holding the basket. He took it in his grip, much too tight for your liking. “Perhaps I can help change it if you give me one night.”

You scowled at his underlying tone, pulling your hand from his grasp and resting it on the knob of your door. You pushed it open, stepping inside before turning to him. “Please do not humor me with such indications. I am not interested, nor will I change my mind.”

Abruptly closing the door on him, you settled inside of your home, breathing a low sigh of relief. You could hear his faint chuckles with the other men present, their footsteps soft against the grass as they took their leave. He never took things too far, such as forcing his way into your home or worse, forcing himself on you, but you feared that day may come the longer you rejected his advances.

You set your basket on your desk, slouching down in the old chair you’d spend days upon days occupied in. Your journal sat open with ink scattered on the pages in your scribbled handwriting, brief sketches drawn about of the varying herbs you worked tirelessly on. Above you, jars lined the shelves with fading labels, filled with makeshift medicines of all kinds.

With the village and its people now out of sight and out of mind, you resumed your studies with the fresh herbs, focusing on what your heart truly desired.

You don’t remember falling asleep. It had been hours of you with a pen in your hand, jotting down useful notes for your studies, and it was no surprise you had succumbed to exhaustion at the comfort of your desk. Your cot in the corner of the room was more a stranger than anything, but with the sight of moonlight still pouring in through your small windows, you debated on moving over to it so you could resume.

Standing from your desk, you rubbed the sleepiness crusting over your eyes, a yawn threatening to tug through your throat. Just as you began your short trek to your bed, a slight tinge of orange caught your eye, peeking in through your window. It was faint, barely knowledgeable.

Curiosity got the best of you, and through your hazy state, you tugged open the front door of your small cottage, daring to see what was outside. The orange grew brighter in view now that the door opening had allowed more light to pool in, and when you rubbed at your eyes once more, you recognized it as fire.

Fire, burning fiercely in the night, eating away at your village. The sounds of terrified screams and chaotic madness became abundantly clear when you stepped outside. It made your blood run cold. All hairs on your body stood straight in warning, beckoning you to return inside, to hide.

As much as you wanted to listen, the first thing to vacate your mind was Mary. In the brush of flames, you needed to know if she was alright, if she had gotten to safety before the angry fire had broken into her own home. Where most of the townsfolk treated you as a mere joke, Mary was the one who had given you kindness when needed.

Your feet moved in a rush to sprint towards the village, the grass damp from the midnight dew and sticking to your soles. The closer you came towards the heart of the village, the louder things grew. It was blood-curling, hearing booming voices bark various orders while others shouted in petrified fear. Mary’s house was on the other side of the village, and in an act of triumph, you aimed for it.

The heat of the flames became more apparent as you closed in on the town center. Townsfolk that you had grown with since a baby were in a frenzy, some bloodied, some weeping. They looked like they had gone through the pits of hell and crawled their way out, only to be inches away from being dragged back in again.

There was no explanation for why the men of your village were wearing the crimson color of fresh blood, or why some were laying in broken heaps on the ground. They were in agony, shrieking in deafening decibels. The healer in you wanted to stop everything you were doing to aid them, but the child in you wanted to reach Mary first.

You did what your heart wanted and ran for Mary.

Approaching her house, the flames had not yet approached. It wasn’t burned to ash, nor was it in shambles. Instead, one large man had Mary in their hold by each of her arms as she attempted to fight him off while another ransacked her home.

“Mary!” you shouted, helpless. The man’s head whipped in the direction of your voice, cruel eyes narrowing in on you. Mary joined him, fearful eyes catching yours.

The sight of the men was foreign to you, but you’d recognize heartless monsters such as them anywhere. They were mere stories shared between the village, often used to scare the children away from the sea for their own protection. The village was so small, nobody had ever worried about the stories happening to them.

Pirates. Cruel, greedy, malicious. Like dogs off a leash, bearing sharp teeth and frothing at the mouth. They raided innocent villages for their supply, leaving it in disarray once they got what they wanted. Sick bastards who deserved punishment, yet slipped away in the roaring waves of the sea before it could be handed to them.

“Let go of her,” you pleaded with the pirate, hands clasped together. You knew you couldn’t fight him off, even if you tried. Mary was just as powerless as you, and old age was starting to catch up to her. She was fragile, and with the way he was handling her, you feared she’d get harmed.

The mysterious pirate continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression. He grunted in annoyance, loosening his grip on Mary but not quite releasing. It did nothing to comfort you, and that feeling grew tenfold when the other pirate stepped out of Mary’s home, locking in on you.

“Grab tha’ one, will ye, Gaz?” the one holding Mary huffed, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. The other, Gaz, nodded in return, sauntering up to you like death on wheels. You needed to run, to escape, but he was too quick. Before you knew it, Gaz’s arms had wrapped around your waist, hauling you over his shoulder like a doll.

Flailing in his embrace did nothing. His grip was firm, arm locked on to you impossibly tight, and the punches you threw to his back seemed almost comical to him.

“Find anythin’?” the other asked Gaz. Gaz shook his head, releasing a frustrated exhale.

As chaos ensued around you, the two men began dragging you and Mary along towards the heart of the village where you were moments ago. Gaz’s grip loosened on you, before he dropped you to the damp ground carelessly. You landed with a huff, soreness soaring through your back.

Looking around, you realized that many of the townsfolk were in the same condition. Lined up besides one another, pleading for their lives, weeping with ugly snot running from their noses. Mary was beside you, shaken but unharmed from the looks of it. She stared at you with heart wrenching fright, and you wished you could’ve told her things would be okay.

But they weren’t. The village was set ablaze, its people lined up like prisoners with a group of pirates looming over them like reapers prepared for death. The peace from this afternoon had vanished, and there would be no return. Things would be forever different, if they spared your lives.

Gaz and the other pirate stood side by side as they looked over the townsfolk. Another was beside them, face distorted by a ghastly mask that resembled a skull. It sent shivers down your spine. It was as if you truly were looking death in the eye.

A fourth pirate stepped forward, eyes that should’ve been considered kind instead staring down every last villager with heated observation. He was silent as he paced slowly, hands behind his back, the fire casting a doomful glow upon his face.

“My name is Captain Price,” he introduced. His voice was booming with authority. “If you do not wish to aid us, then we do not wish to aid you. The choice is yours.”

Sweat beaded your hairline from both the flames of fire scorching around you, and the anxiety that spiked inside of you. Your eyes locked in on the Captain, watching his every movement, noting the way he stood tall and proud, showcasing the true power he held. The villagers and you were helpless against him and his crew, and he was ensuring that it was obvious.

“We seek a medic. If you cannot provide that to us, then you are of no use to me,” he explained, pausing his pacing. He took in the sight of every grim face. Once he landed on you, you shivered, looking away in a panic. “I will ask you once. Who is your medic?”

Deafening silence filled the air apart from the flickering flames that threatened to consume us whole. Nobody dared to speak a word, nor did they look away from Price. It was as if time had stopped and everybody froze.

Price sniffed, glancing around the villagers. Though he seemed collected in his behavior, you could recognize the impatience from the way his lip twitched and his shoulders tensed.

“The Captain asked you lot a question,” Gaz sneered in defense. Price spared him a glance before returning focus. Still, nobody spoke for the next few moments.

It wasn’t until Price’s hand drifted to his waist, hand coming to rest on a handgun that the air shifted into one of unease. The sight of it made you sick to the stomach. Handguns were a specialty only the wealthy or military could acquire. They were rare and expensive, a luxury to some, but deadly. One click, and your soul was taken right from your body.

Price grasped the handgun, holding it in his hand as if it were a toy. He stepped up to the line of villagers, peering down at them like useless pigs. The sight of the gun had women quivering in fear, tears streaming down their rosy cheeks. The men were men no more, stripped away of their masculinity and replaced with little boys, unable to protect their kin and fulfill their duty as defenders.

The gun was raised, threat building with every inch. The barrel pointed right at the horror-stricken face of the very man who intruded on your home earlier – Lucius. Gone was the cocky mockery of a man, replaced with a whimpering boy who feared death just as much as another. He was shaking, shoulders slouched in attempts to appear small.

“We will try this again,” Price demanded. The cold barrel pressed to the temple of Lucius’ head and you could do nothing but sit and watch, unsure of what to feel. Sure, he kept a sour taste in your mouth simply from being. But to wish death on him for being a hindrance was distasteful. “Who is your medic?”

Lucius wouldn’t possibly rat you out. He was a selfish man who took what he wanted, but surely, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t that cruel.

The coward’s shaky hand lifted to point in your direction. It felt as if he were throwing a sharp dagger at you, the way he exposed the occupation you’d been so meticulously working hard towards.

Eyes shifted towards you, sending an ice cold burst through your veins. They were prodding, dissecting you from head to toe as if you were an experiment for them to test on. It was unsettling, sinking your heart down to the pits of your stomach.

“You’re the medic?” Price questioned. He hadn’t lowered his weapon, keeping it firm against Lucius’ skull, but his attention had shifted to you. His eyes weren’t warm and kind like they were shaped out to be, but rather cold, glossed over with hardened hostility.

“I–” You swallowed. “I am merely a medic in practice. I am not a professional, I do not know proper teachings–”

“Ghost,” he interrupted, whipping his head to look at the masked man. Ghost was a brute of a man, a shadow that would’ve been consumed by the night if not for the illuminating glow coming from the village in flames. “Take her so she can gather her things. She’s coming with us.”

Dread struck you right to the core. You wanted to beg for them to leave you be, to explain that you weren’t what they wanted. You didn’t want to be stripped from your home and tossed onto a ship with no clue of where your next destination was. These men were dangerous, seeping pure rancor and poisoning the very ground you laid on. Leaving with them was a death sentence.

Ghost said nothing, and even if he did, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it from the subtle weeping from villagers beside you. His strides were long as he approached you, and without warning, his rough hand grasped your elbow, hauling you to your feet. The force startled you, throwing you off balance but his grip was tight enough to keep you grounded.

As you were dragged away towards the direction of your home, you could hear an uproar of cries. Terror struck the village once more and you could do nothing but accept fate for what it was. You wanted to turn your head to see what was becoming of your people, but you were scared. Scared of what you may see, scared of what Ghost will do if you look.

You kept your gaze forward, legs moving quickly to match the heavy pace of Ghost, guiding the lion into your den.

Arriving at your home, you were hit with the realization that it would be the last time entering it. Your hard work would vanish, the space you made into your security blanket would be destroyed, burned to ash once the flames settled. It tore your heart to bits.

“Hurry up,” Ghost gruffed, his voice gravelly and hoarse. Just like Price, it was assertive, leaving no room for discussion.

You made haste to pack your essentials into a flimsy satchel. It wouldn’t be able to fit much, and you could only pray they would at least provide you with bare necessities on your voyage to hell. In your satchel went your journal, the cluttered jars of experimental medicines, your favorite quill, and a daring change of clothes. If Ghost thought you to remain alive long enough to have the opportunity to redress, he didn’t express it.

“That all?” he huffed, and when you nodded, he seized your arm again. “Let’s go.”

The sight of your home became a distant memory the farther you went from it. Already your body was pleading to go back, to curl up in bed and pretend that all of this was a sick dream. You regretted not making your cot of more use, sleeping in that damned wooden chair instead.

By the time you arrived back at the town center, it was like witnessing purgatory itself. Bloodshed with the bodies of your people laid across the ground like animals tossed aside. Useless and unworthy, that was how these pirates treated them. Though your people had never been kind to you, this was a fate you would never have wished upon them.

Their faces were unrecognizable as you took them in. Some burned, some beaten so bloody their faces had swelled into ugly monsters, some slain. The sight of the deceased made you want to vomit, bile piling in your throat and threatening to expel out.

Your eyes frantically searched for Mary, aching to know if they had given her mercy. She was a frail woman, withering with her age. She was innocent.

You couldn’t find her familiar face, and you weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or dreadful.

The three other pirates were standing around one another. They were unphased by the actions they had bestowed upon the village, as if it was another simple day. It unnerved you, rattling your bones with burrowing fear. When they noticed the return of you and their crewmate, they wasted no time in guiding you off to the small port in which their ship had been docked.

It was large, wood tainted with brown so dark it could’ve been black. It blended in with the abyss of the sea, which you realized was entirely the point. Unnoticed and concealed.

Ghost didn’t let go of you as he helped you on to the ship, nor did he release once your bare feet connected with the wood. It was just as restricting as before, causing a light pulse to form in your bicep where he held you.

“Take her to the chambers until we figure out the next step,” Price ordered Ghost, nodding his head in the direction of raggedy doors. You could only imagine what lies behind them, waiting for you.

Ghost grunted in response, tugging you with him and having you stumble on your own two feet. The wood was rough and sharp on your soles, slicing tiny splinters into your skin. Shoes weren’t needed in your village unless it was winter, and even then, the grass was always enough to consume them in warmth. Now, you were regretting not owning a pair.

“In you go,” Ghost uttered once he had the door pulled open, shoving you down a small flight of stairs towards the lower section of the ship. It was dingy and unlit, the only light seeping in being the moonlight from a tiny window.

Once inside, you recognized your new home as a cell. Barred and caged in, being tossed inside carelessly. There was nothing but a cot and a bucket to relieve yourself. It was completely empty and void of comfort.

Ghost shut the cell door, locking it with an annoyed grunt. You hadn’t even noticed him pull out the set of keys to open it for you, nor had you noticed when he locked you in. You watched as he thrusted the keys in his back pocket, the only evidence of its presence being the small glint of metal from the moon’s light.

“Wait!” you cried out when he turned to leave. You scrambled on the cell floor, hands wrapping around the cold bars. He paused his walk, throwing you a look of disinterest. “You can’t just leave me in here!”

Ghost snorted in what you dared to say amusement. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, princess. You’ll be of use soon enough.”

Ignoring your pleas, he stepped up the stairs and returned to the main deck, shutting the door and leaving you utterly alone. Silence filled the air apart from the calming waves of the sea, though it did nothing to soothe you. You were helpless, deprived of any form of escape.

You spent what felt like hours on the floor of your cell, weeping into your own hands, silently praying to a God to release you. When nobody came to your rescue, you knew it was far too late for a miracle. This would be your new life, your new home, for as long as they kept you alive.

Part of you wished they would’ve just killed you instead.

[mercurianchild]

Venus in the 8th house

🥀Venus in the 8th house: The Symphony of Life and Death🥀

In the enigmatic depths of the 8th House, Venus dances with an intensity that ignites the soul and leaves hearts spellbound. Here, love is not a mere dalliance but a journey into the abyss of passion and transformation, where every emotion pulses with the resonance of a symphony reaching its crescendo. Within the mysterious confines of this celestial placement, individuals are adorned with an allure that transcends the ordinary. Their essence, shrouded in a veil of mystery, draws others into their world like moths to a flame. They exude an intoxicating aura of depth and enigma, leaving admirers entranced by the secrets hidden beneath their gaze.

For those touched by Venus in the 8th House, love is a voyage into the unknown, where every encounter becomes a journey of self-discovery and transformation. They navigate the murky waters of emotion with fearless abandon, embracing the shadows as fervently as the light. Each relationship becomes a crucible, forging them anew as they surrender to the alchemy of passion and change. Yet, amidst the tempest of emotion, challenges may arise. Jealousy and possessiveness lurk in the shadows, testing the boundaries of trust and autonomy. Fear may whisper of vulnerability, threatening to eclipse the brilliance of their passion. But it is in these moments of darkness that their light shines brightest, illuminating the path to deeper connection and understanding.

In matters of seduction and sexuality, Venus in the 8th House casts a spell like no other. Their touch is electric, igniting flames of desire that burn with an intensity unmatched. With each embrace, they unravel the mysteries of the soul, weaving a tapestry of intimacy and ecstasy that leaves lovers breathless and hearts ablaze.

Venus in the 8th House is a symphony of passion and mystery, a siren song that beckons the brave to dive into the depths of the heart. With every note, they weave a tale of love and transformation that leaves jaws agape and souls enraptured. In its depths lies the key to unlocking the truest desires of the heart.

[truevedicastrology]

Lilith Configuration and Its Revelations on Your Erotic Identity xxx

The lasting cosmic journey of Lilith in Aries unveils a narrative of audacity, impulsiveness, and a fearless embrace of dominance within the confines of the bedroom.

In the realm of Lilith gracing Taurus, one becomes a sensual connoisseur, delighting in the orchestration of carnal pleasures. Every moment is a lingering indulgence, a deliberate savoring of the exquisite nuances of passion.

Venturing into the enigmatic domain of Lilith in Gemini, one is greeted by the spirit of curiosity. This individual thrives on experimentation, displaying an openness to novel experiences and a penchant for exploring the vast landscape of fantasies.

For those marked by Lilith in Cancer, the sexual landscape transforms into a nurturing sanctuary. Here, the emphasis lies in crafting emotional intimacy, weaving a tapestry of connection that extends beyond the physical realm.

Lilith's fiery presence in Leo manifests as a passionate force, seeking the spotlight within the intimate confines of the bedroom. Adoration and worship become the currency of desire for those bearing this celestial imprint.

As Lilith aligns with Virgo, the sexual narrative adopts a meticulous and detail-oriented script. The pursuit of perfection becomes paramount, and pride is derived from the meticulous artistry of pleasuring one's partner.

In the libidinous ballet of Lilith in Libra, the pursuit of harmony and equilibrium takes center stage. The fulfillment of both personal desires and those of the partner becomes the guiding principle.

Lilith's descent into Scorpio's abyss signals a journey into the shadowy realms of sensuality. Boundaries are pushed, and the exploration delves into the profound, both emotionally and physically.

Sagittarius, adorned with Lilith's influence, embarks on a journey of sexual exploration. Breaking free from traditional shackles, the adventurer seeks novelty, craving the thrill of uncharted territories.

In the disciplined terrain of Lilith in Capricorn, the sexual landscape is marked by focus and unwavering discipline. Novelty holds no allure; the pursuit lies in the mastery of the tried and tested.

Aquarius, with Lilith's eccentric touch, ventures into uncharted waters of sexual expression. Liberation from societal norms becomes the cornerstone, pushing boundaries and embarking on a voyage of self-discovery.

Pisces, blessed with Lilith's whimsy, delves into a realm of imagination and dreams. The pursuit transcends reality, embracing the magical and fantastical in the kaleidoscopic tapestry of erotic exploration.

Follow our Facebook page Mage Magic Touch for personal consultations https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61565561190268

[jgoddesstarot]

Pick-A-Pile: Their Career: What Profession or Field is Your Future Spouse In?

👑Check out my masterlist to see all of my pick-a-card readings😊

✨ Visit my shops at Ko-fi.com or J.Goddess Tarot✨

🔮Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are based upon my intuitive interpretation of the cards and about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

🔮How I read: I use a mix of tarot cards, oracle cards, along with my intuitive abilities of claircognizance, clairaudience, and clairsentience.

🔮How this works: Close your eyes and take deep breaths, pick the pile you are most drawn to. If you aren’t drawn to any pile then that’s okay, these messages aren’t for you.

Pile 1

Tarot Cards: 5 of Cups, The Lovers, The Hermit (in reverse), Queen of Cups, The Chariot

Ah, my sultry Pile 1's! Embark with me on an intoxicating voyage to uncover the career secrets of your elusive future love.

Picture a soul who's tasted the bittersweet symphony of life. They've endured setbacks, but here's the allure: instead of languishing in bygone disappointments, they've channeled these lessons, forging a path glowing with promise. Like a phoenix, they've taken their setbacks and used them as fuel, emerging brighter and more determined.

Now, imagine them weaving through a world where harmony and connections reign supreme. Their charm lies in the art of building bridges, mending fences, and orchestrating unions. Their profession thrums with the rhythm of relationships, be it in the hallways of legal battles, the nuanced dance of consultancy, or the embrace of human resources. Their every endeavor is painted with passion, fostering environments dripping with mutual respect.

But, the plot thickens. Rather than being an isolated genius, they thrive in the pulsating heart of collaborative arenas. Their days are painted with group dynamics, team brainstorming, and the infectious energy of collective creation. Every project, a harmonious dance of diverse minds.

In this riveting tale, their heart emerges as their compass—a wellspring of empathy, care, and intuition. Whether in the healing embrace of healthcare, the nurturing realms of social work, or the soulful corridors of counseling, their profession beckons to souls in need, offering solace and understanding.

And as our tale nears its climax, the essence of sheer willpower and ambition becomes palpable. This lover is destined to blaze trails, to dominate arenas with a fierce determination that sets the world alight. They are a force, a whirlwind of goals and victories, and their chosen field echoes with their triumphant strides.

To tie this enigmatic tale together, enchanting Pile 1's, your future lover’s career is an exhilarating blend of resilience, harmony, collaboration, empathy, and fierce ambition. This tantalizing mix promises a partner whose professional life mirrors a journey of challenges, triumphs, and heart. As Destiny weaves its tapestry, these revelations hint at the captivating tale of your shared future.

Pile 2

Tarot Cards: 5 of Swords, 10 of Wands, 2 of Swords, Ace of Cups, 8 of Wands

My tantalizing Pile 2's, prepare to embark on a riveting journey, delving into the exhilarating career landscape of your enigmatic future love.

Visualize a realm teeming with cutthroat competition and exhilarating duels of wit. In this world, your future spouse emerges as a master strategist, a maven who thrives amidst the electric tension of challenges. Their arena? Perhaps the high stakes corridors of corporate warfare or the intricate dance of political maneuvering.

Yet, with power comes responsibility. They might be ensnared in a web of weighty expectations, but ah, they wear their burdens like a king wears a crown—regal and undeterred. Every decision, every responsibility is borne with a grace that makes you wonder if they were born for this.

Peering deeper, we find them at the crossroads of pivotal decisions, casting judgments that ripple through time. The gavel of authority, the responsibility of steering ships through turbulent waters, they're at the helm, orchestrating outcomes with a finesse that's nothing short of mesmerizing.

But what fuels this fire? An undying passion, a wellspring of love for their craft. They're not just chasing gold or accolades, but a deeper calling, a passion that lights up their soul. Their realm could be awash with colors on a canvas, the poetic dance of numbers, or the rhythm of heartfelt melodies.

And as the tale unfolds, a whirlwind of motion emerges. Envision them dashing through airports, or fervently connecting with souls across continents, weaving stories, striking deals, or capturing moments at the speed of light. The pulse of journalism? The adrenaline of sales? The world awaits their next move.

In wrapping up our delicious tale, my alluring Pile 2's, Destiny paints your future lover as a formidable force in a world of strategy, responsibility, passion, and ceaseless motion. Their journey promises thrills, challenges, and the sweet taste of fulfillment. As the stars align and tales intertwine, remain receptive, for destiny has its own rhythm, and your dance is just beginning.

Pile 3

Tarot Cards: 10 of Pentacles, 3 of Pentacles (in reverse), 6 of Wands (in reverse), 10 of Swords, 3 of Swords

Ah, my alluring Pile 3's, immerse yourself as we journey into the opulent tapestry of your future lover's career. Let the tantalizing revelations unravel, revealing a narrative you'll surely find hard to resist.

First, picture a world awash with prosperity—a realm where luxury isn't just a fantasy, but an everyday reality. In this gilded domain, your future partner thrives, perhaps manipulating the strings of business empires, orchestrating the ballet of real estate, or mastering the cryptic language of finance. They've crafted an empire, not just of wealth, but of ambition realized and dreams manifested.

But ah, the plot thickens! Every gold thread in this tapestry was spun amidst trials. In their earlier days, shadows of doubt and walls of disregard might have threatened to eclipse their brilliance. Yet, with indomitable spirit, they emerged, carving a niche where their genius could no longer be overshadowed.

Despite the accolades and the tangible trophies of success, there's an enigmatic humility to them. They waltz through the corridors of achievement, not with boisterous fanfare, but with a quiet confidence. They let their masterpieces echo their tales, garnering silent respect from every corner.

As our tale takes a riveting turn, we find them at a crossroads—a dramatic shift that upended their world but paved the way to their destiny. A switch that might've tasted bitter initially, but ultimately led them to their passion, their true north.

And oh, the finale? A heart so vast, so tender. Their profession might echo with the soft murmurs of comforting words, the healing touch that mends broken spirits. Whether in the embrace of healthcare, the sanctuary of counseling, or the comforting realms of social work, their purpose is clear: to heal, to comfort, to uplift.

To wrap up our sumptuous saga, delectable Pile 3's, Destiny paints your future lover as a beacon of resilience, prosperity, humility, transformation, and boundless compassion. Their career is not just a job; it's a testament to a journey of trials turned triumphs. As fate weaves its stories, savor these revelations and remain enchanted by the cosmic dance of love and Destiny."

Other Resources:

Website: https://www.jgoddesstarot.com/

YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/JGoddessTarot

Tumblr Subscription: https://www.tumblr.com/jgoddesstarot/support

Exclusive Readings Subscription on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/jgoddesstarot/tiers

Continual Improvement Survey: https://forms.gle/MYnBds9oZUHJ7VWa8

[cyberpunkonline]

Ghosts in the Machine: A Psychedelic Voyage through Hauntology, Internet Culture, and the Cyberpunk Specter

Once upon a time, in the neon-lit underbelly of cyberspace, there existed a curious phenomenon—a trippy trinity of hauntology, internet culture, and the ghost of cyberpunk. It's a mind-bending journey through the digital rabbit hole, where reality and nostalgia collide in a kaleidoscopic whirlwind of memes, memories, and mayhem.

Picture this: Jacques Derrida, the French philosopher extraordinaire, drops the term "hauntology" like a linguistic bomb, sending shockwaves through the space-time continuum. Suddenly, the past isn't just history—it's a spectral presence, haunting our collective consciousness with its fragmented echoes and retro reverberations.

Meanwhile, in the wild, wild west of the internet, a strange and wondrous culture emerges—a melting pot of memes, cat videos, and conspiracy theories swirling in the digital ether. It's a place where anonymity reigns supreme, and the only currency is attention. Welcome to the cyber circus, where anything goes and everything's up for grabs.

But wait, lurking in the shadows of this digital dystopia, is the ghost of cyberpunk—an enigmatic specter born from the fevered imaginations of William Gibson and Philip K. Dick. It's a world of hackers, hustlers, and high-tech heists—a neon-lit noir nightmare where the only law is the code.

Now, imagine these three forces colliding in a psychedelic showdown of epic proportions. It's like Hunter S. Thompson meets William S. Burroughs in a smoky dive bar at the edge of the digital frontier. Reality bends, time warps, and the boundaries between past, present, and future blur in a technicolor haze.

In this brave new world, nostalgia isn't just a feeling—it's a weapon, wielded by hackers and hipsters alike in their quest for authenticity in a world of simulacra. The internet becomes a virtual playground, where identities are fluid, and reality is up for grabs.

And amidst the chaos and confusion, the ghost of cyberpunk whispers its ominous warnings of a future gone awry—a cautionary tale of corporate greed, technological hubris, and existential despair. It's a reminder that the utopian dreams of the digital age are just as fragile as the dystopian nightmares.

So, buckle up, dear reader, and prepare for a wild ride through the haunted halls of cyberspace. Because in the weird and wacky world of hauntology, internet culture, and the ghost of cyberpunk, the only certainty is uncertainty.

[stargatebarbie]

Ten characters Ten fandoms Ten tags

List your 10 favourite characters from 10 separate fandoms, then tag 10 people

I was tagged by @stinalotte & @texasdreamer01 & then I left this in my drafts sorry 🤦‍♀️ no particular order as that would stress me to no end lmao

Rodney McKay (Stargate Atlantis)

Castiel (Supernatural)

Vala Mal Doran (Stargate SG-1)

Spock (Star Trek TOS)

Jadzia Dax (Star trek DS9)

B'Elanna Torres (Star Trek Voyager)

Aeryn Sun (Farscape)

Entrapta (She-Ra)

Venom/Eddie Brock (movies & comics)

Phoebe Halliwell (Charmed)

Tagging @kirksbouncingtiddies @denimshortsdean @ooey-gooey-angel @gayingupspace @frostysfrenzy @crooner-deans-walkman @relentlessenthusiasmforthebard @acrowbyanyothername @letterlimerence @enigmatic-mystery-777

[nerdypuddincup]

So theory/headcanon time.

I'm reading through the Novelization of Wolfman 2010 because I love that film and I want more of it. But one thing caught my eye as I'm reading it. The old man who gifts Lawrence the iconic silver wolf head cane is an enigmatic figure in the film, but in the book there's something more to him. He feels a kinship with Lawrence. And when he offers Talbot his cane, their fingers touch for a moment. Lawrence physically moves his hand away from how deathly cold the man's touch is. And instantly my mind went to the cane's appearance in last year's underrated Last Voyage of the Demeter where the cane was in Dracula's possession.

So my theory now is that Last Voyage was an older script that was going to use the cane as connective tissue to the Wolfman and try to give the Universal Monsters another attempt at a cinematic universe. But due to the poor return on Wolfman they held off on the script.

And my headcanon shall now forever be that the old man was indeed Dracula sensing the kindred darkness in Lawrence, gifts him his cane. And that Wolfman 2010 and Last Voyage take place in the same universe.

[soob1nn]

MY FILMS - ADULT FAME DR

REMINDER! I haven’t shifted yet, so all these is just my imagination 🤍

masterlist - main masterlist

Films are a powerful medium of storytelling and artistic expression. Combining visual, auditory, and narrative elements, films captivate audiences, transporting them to diverse worlds, evoking emotions, and sparking thought. From silent classics to cutting-edge blockbusters, the world of cinema has evolved, reflecting societal changes and pushing creative boundaries. Whether it's the magic of a well-crafted screenplay, the mesmerizing performances of actors, or the technical brilliance behind the scenes, films continue to be a dynamic and influential form of entertainment and cultural expression.

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN

The "Pirates of the Caribbean" saga is a cinematic adventure like no other, immersing audiences in a world of high-seas exploits, swashbuckling action, and supernatural wonders. This beloved franchise, brought to life by the charismatic Captain Jack Sparrow, has left an indelible mark on the world of cinema.

What sets the "Pirates of the Caribbean" saga apart is its perfect fusion of thrilling action and cleverly woven mythology. From the very first installment, "The Curse of the Black Pearl," to subsequent sequels, the films have taken viewers on a journey filled with cursed treasures, mythical creatures, and, of course, eccentric pirates.

At the heart of the saga is the enigmatic Captain Jack Sparrow, portrayed brilliantly by Johnny Depp. Jack's witty charm, unpredictable antics, and ever-present quest for rum have made him an iconic character in cinematic history.

The franchise's success also lies in its ability to seamlessly blend history and fantasy. The Caribbean settings, the pirate code, and the age of exploration provide a historically rich backdrop for the fantastical elements like cursed Aztec gold, undead sailors, and mermaids.

Each film in the series has introduced new characters and expanded upon the lore, creating a vast and interconnected narrative that keeps fans eagerly awaiting the next installment.

With unforgettable moments, memorable quotes, and a score that resonates long after the credits roll, the "Pirates of the Caribbean" saga has carved its place as a beloved classic. It's a thrilling voyage into the world of pirates, where legends, curses, and epic battles reign, making it a timeless adventure that continues to captivate audiences of all ages.

BEAUTY OF THE BEAST

"Beauty and the Beast," in its live-action adaptation, breathes new life into a timeless tale that has enchanted generations. This magical film takes the beloved animated classic and transforms it into a visually stunning and emotionally captivating experience.

Set in a picturesque French village, the story follows the intelligent and kind-hearted Belle, brilliantly portrayed by Emma Watson, who longs for more than the provincial life she leads. When her father becomes a prisoner in the enchanted castle of the Beast, played by Dan Stevens, Belle courageously takes his place, embarking on a journey of discovery, love, and the power of inner beauty.

With its stunning visual effects, lavish costumes, and memorable musical score, the live-action "Beauty and the Beast" faithfully pays homage to the original while adding depth to its characters and narrative. The film not only celebrates the power of love but also explores themes of tolerance, acceptance, and the beauty that lies within.

This enchanting adaptation is a cinematic masterpiece that captures the hearts of both long-time fans and new audiences, reaffirming the enduring power of this classic tale as old as time. "Beauty and the Beast" in its live-action form invites us to be their guest in a world where magic and love flourish, reminding us that beauty truly comes from within.

LITTLE WOMEN

"Little Women" stands as a cinematic jewel, capturing the timeless essence of Louisa May Alcott's literary masterpiece. This film adaptation, directed by Greta Gerwig, breathes new life into the beloved narrative of the March sisters, presenting a fresh and poignant take on sisterhood, ambition, and the pursuit of one's dreams.

Set against the backdrop of the American Civil War, "Little Women" unfolds the lives of the four March sisters—Jo, Meg, Beth, and Amy—each with distinctive personalities and aspirations. The film gracefully weaves between the past and present, allowing audiences to witness the joys and challenges of the sisters as they navigate the trials of womanhood, love, and societal expectations.

With an all-star cast featuring Winter Reed Jackman, Emma Watson, Florence Pugh, and Eliza Scanlen as the March sisters, and an exceptional performance by Timothée Chalamet as Laurie, the film brings these iconic characters to life with depth and authenticity.

Greta Gerwig's directorial prowess shines through as she infuses "Little Women" with a contemporary spirit, resonating with modern audiences while maintaining the timeless charm of the original story. The film is a celebration of the strength, resilience, and individuality of women, urging viewers to embrace their ambitions and forge their paths.

"Little Women" is a poignant and visually captivating cinematic journey that captures the spirit of sisterhood and the pursuit of one's aspirations. It invites audiences to revisit the cherished tale with fresh eyes, offering a profound and emotionally resonant experience for both new and devoted fans of this literary classic.

KNIVES OUT

"Knives Out" is a modern masterpiece in the realm of whodunits, a brilliantly crafted film that masterfully blends mystery, humor, and a star-studded ensemble cast. Directed by Rian Johnson, this murder-mystery film takes audiences on a rollercoaster ride of suspense, twists, and dark humor.

The story centers around the death of wealthy crime novelist Harlan Thrombey, portrayed by Christopher Plummer. When renowned detective Benoit Blanc, played by Daniel Craig, is enlisted to investigate, the Thrombey family becomes the focal point of scrutiny. With each member harboring secrets and motives, the plot thickens, and the suspense escalates.

"Knives Out" boasts a stellar cast including Daniel Craig, Winter Reed Jackman, Chris Evans, Jamie Lee Curtis, and more, each delivering standout performances that contribute to the film's gripping atmosphere. The narrative is cleverly layered, keeping viewers on the edge of their seats as they attempt to unravel the intricate web of deception and motive.

Beyond its gripping storyline, "Knives Out" is a sharp and satirical take on family dynamics, privilege, and the consequences of wealth. Rian Johnson's expert direction and sharp dialogue elevate the film, making it a delightful homage to classic whodunits while infusing it with a contemporary edge.

This cinematic gem not only keeps the audience guessing until the very end but also provides a fresh and entertaining perspective on the murder mystery genre. "Knives Out" is a clever and stylish film that engages the mind, tickles the funny bone, and ultimately leaves a lasting impression, establishing itself as a standout in the pantheon of modern cinema.

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

"Top Gun: Maverick" is a highly anticipated sequel that soars into the iconic world of fighter jets and high-stakes aerial combat. Directed by Joseph Kosinski and starring Tom Cruise reprising his role as Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, this film is a thrilling continuation of the 1986 classic, "Top Gun."

Set decades after the events of the original film, Captain Maverick finds himself adapting to a new era of aerial warfare dominated by drone technology. As he mentors a new generation of Top Gun graduates, the film promises heart-pounding dogfights, cutting-edge aviation sequences, and a nostalgic nod to the beloved elements that made the first film an enduring favorite.

"Top Gun: Maverick" not only reintroduces fans to the adrenaline-fueled world of fighter pilots but also introduces fresh faces played by actors like Miles Teller and Winter Reed Jackman. With its combination of high-octane action and character-driven storytelling, the film aims to capture the spirit of the original while propelling the narrative into uncharted skies.

As Maverick confronts his past and embraces the challenges of the future, the film offers a blend of nostalgia and innovation, promising an exhilarating cinematic experience for both longtime fans and a new generation of moviegoers. "Top Gun: Maverick" is poised to be a blockbuster that reignites the Maverick legend while delivering a visual spectacle that takes the iconic franchise to new heights.

THE SEVEN HUSBANDS OF EVELYN HUGO

"The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo" unfolds on the silver screen as a spellbinding cinematic journey through the glitz and glamour of Hollywood's Golden Age. Adapted from Taylor Jenkins Reid's compelling novel, this film invites audiences into the captivating life story of Evelyn Hugo, a legendary film actress portrayed with brilliance and nuance.

In the film, we follow Evelyn's journey through the decades, beautifully capturing the essence of old Hollywood. The glamorous sets, meticulously crafted costumes, and evocative cinematography transport viewers to a bygone era where stars shone brightly on and off the screen.

As the narrative unfolds, the complexities of Evelyn’s seven marriages come to life, each husband portrayed by a stellar cast that adds depth to the character-driven drama. The film navigates the twists and turns of Evelyn’s life, revealing secrets, scandals, and the sacrifices made in the pursuit of fame and love.

The storytelling prowess of Taylor Jenkins Reid is masterfully translated to the screen, with Evelyn's compelling voice narrating her journey. The film seamlessly weaves together themes of identity, love, and the price of success, creating an emotional tapestry that resonates with audiences.

While exploring the intricacies of Evelyn's life, the film introduces Monique Grant, the journalist chosen by Evelyn to tell her story. Monique's personal journey becomes an integral part of the cinematic narrative, adding layers of depth and connection to the overarching tale.

"The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo" on the big screen is more than a glamorous expose of Hollywood excess; it's a poignant exploration of the human experience. The film's rich storytelling, combined with outstanding performances and lush visuals, elevates it beyond a mere adaptation, making it a cinematic triumph that lingers in the hearts of viewers long after the final credits roll.

[macguffinandco]

Upriver, Downriver is now available!

So, a while back we ran a Kickstarter for a tarot-infused magical river game called Upriver, Downriver, and we’re pleased to announce it’s now available for general purchase through our website!

Upriver, Downriver is a queer fantasy tabletop roleplaying game about sailing along a magical river, and persisting on an impossible journey. Inspired by the Tarot, it was written by our dear friend Ella Watts, with development and editing by Sasha and layout (and river design) by Jonny. It also has some fantastic art by Max Degan and Cael Lyons.

Together, you and your crew will swear a magical oath to reach either the Source of the Great River or the Sea. No one has ever come back from either destination, and each has their own challenges and rewards. But, whatever bends your journey takes, once you’ve sworn your Oath, your soul is committed to continue on towards your goal. Even in death, your ghost will be bound to your Oath and your ship, compelled to complete your voyage.

During your travels, you'll visit enchanting, enigmatic and hostile locations along the River. Each location is tied to one of the major arcana, and is home to its own unique characters and challenges. Your trials and triumphs are determined by dice and tarot cards. What you do with the hand that fate and the River deals is up to you.

It’s a beautiful game, and we couldn’t be more thrilled with how it came out, so check it out at our webstore!

[doumadono]

My dearest friend. Now, it's my turn to place an emergency request. I'm in an emotionally abusive relationship and have no way out at present. I'm stuck away from home with nowhere to go and not even a career to fall back onto.

When I go out for my evening walks, I always stare at the moon, imagining that my beloved Kokushibo rescues me from it all. And....that's my request: being rescued by Upper Moon One.

Please take your time as this is simply an aggrevation of years and years of a chronic condition. And feel free to change the reason for me being rescued if the real-life reason is too confronting. Lysm 💞💞💞

A/N: My dear friend, I'm truly sorry to hear about the difficult situation you find yourself in. Yet, you have the strength to overcome this, and brighter days are ahead. Don't lose hope, and keep moving forward ♥

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

In the eerie stillness of the night, as you gazed at the moon's pale glow during your evening walks, you held onto a secret wish. A yearning that transcended reality, a longing for escape from the torment of your emotionally abusive relationship. Little did you know, the universe had other plans.

One fateful evening, as you wandered along your familiar path, your eyes fixated on the moon's silvery visage. The world around you seemed to fade away, and you whispered a silent plea to the heavens.

As your heart poured its anguish into the night, the moonlight shimmered and swirled, forming an ethereal gateway. The air around you grew heavy, laden with an eerie presence. You stumbled back in awe and trepidation as a figure emerged from this otherworldly portal.

It was Kokushibo. His cold, yellowish irises bore into yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Dressed in his distinctive kimono, he radiated power and a kind of dark beauty that was both captivating and terrifying.

Without a word, Kokushibo extended a pale hand, beckoning you to him. His voice, like a haunting melody, echoed in your ears. "Come with me, and leave your suffering behind. I've been keeping an eye on you for quite a while."

As you took his hand, you felt a surge of otherworldly energy coursing through your veins. The two of you ascended into the night sky, leaving your earthly troubles behind.

The journey with Kokushibo through time and space was an astonishing blur of wondrous sights and sensations. It happened so swiftly that it was difficult to process every detail, but what remained etched in your memory was its breathtaking beauty.

As the journey with Kokushibo came to a sudden halt, you opened your eyes, having squeezed them shut to shield yourself from the overwhelming beauty of your cosmic voyage. When your vision cleared, you found yourself in a room that contrasted starkly with the celestial expanse you had just traversed.

This new space was intimate and warm, with wooden walls that exuded a comforting, earthy scent. The wooden floors felt solid and familiar beneath your feet. A single futon was laid out, inviting and cozy, offering respite after your ethereal adventure. The room held a few decorative items, their presence adding a personal touch to the space. On the wooden walls, you noticed intricate designs and patterns that seemed to tell a story of their own.

You gazed up at the tall, enigmatic demon, shivers running down your spine as you stood in that wooden room. You couldn't help but ask the question that had been burning in your mind since your arrival, "Where am I?"

Kokushibo, Upper Moon One, regarded you with those penetrating thee pairs of yellowish eyes. His voice was both commanding and reassuring as he spoke, "You are in your new home, a sanctuary where you can feel safe. You don't have to worry here. I'm not here to hurt you. I've heard your pleas for many nights," he confessed, his words carrying the weight of the countless moments you had looked up to the moon, seeking solace. "I listened as you prayed to the heavens and even the depths of hell for help. And it seems," he continued, "the second one, the one from the depths of darkness, was the one to respond. You see, little human, sometimes the answers to our deepest desires come from unexpected places, in forms we could never have imagined." His words hung in the air, carrying a profound truth about the mysterious and often unpredictable nature of life's responses to our fervent calls for help.

Curiosity burning within you, you couldn't help but ask the question that weighed on your mind. "What am I going to be doing here?" you inquired, your voice quivering with anticipation.

Kokushibo met your gaze with a knowing smile, his eyes never leaving yours. "You," he began, "will become my apprentice. Here, I will teach you everything there is to know about vengeance."

A small, determined smile crept onto your lips as you nodded in response. This was the very opportunity you had dreamt of, the chance to learn the means of retribution and take vengeance on the person who had inflicted so much pain upon you. The thought of turning the tables and finding a way to reclaim your power filled you with a renewed sense of purpose. With Kokushibo's guidance, you would embark on a path to reshape your own fate and confront the source of your deepest wounds.

[blessed-by-umbral]

Violence

@daily-writing-challenge

Topic: Violence

---

Weeks had gracefully slipped by since Baetylus embarked on its voyage to the enchanting shores of Tural, and now, four days had passed since the intimidating vessel had anchored in this unfamiliar haven. The air was thick with the scent of adventure and the promise of discovery, a curious juxtaposition that enveloped Ondrea Cress in a cocoon of anticipation. The strangeness of being enveloped by the unknown was not a source of trepidation for her; rather, it was a vital embrace, a welcoming that whispered of new beginnings and uncharted paths waiting to be trekked.

The passage of time had woven a tapestry of curiosity as the allure of uncharted lands beckoned from the shadows of the past. Those privy to the secrets of the sea had embarked on a meticulous endeavor, crafting maps and devising plans for their ambitious voyages. Yet, for Ondrea, this pursuit appeared to be a futile exercise, akin to embarking on a grand expedition without the slightest hint of direction or guidance. It was only when a reliable course was presented to them, a beacon of certainty amidst the vast unknown, that they finally set their sails toward the horizon.

On this afternoon, the sun reigned supreme, casting its golden rays upon a canvas of immaculate azure. The heavens were devoid of any clouds, creating a breathtaking expanse that seemed to stretch endlessly. Yet, in the depths of her heart, she harbored a profound disdain for the sun. The relentless heat was an unwelcome companion, transforming her midnight tresses into a sweltering burden, while the sensation of her leather attire clinging to her skin felt akin to a serpent ensnaring its unsuspecting victim.

The accoutrements of freshly squeezed fruit juices was a welcome reprieve, as a particular concoction of citrus we dutifully set upon a table before an open window overlooking a breathtaking view of the lush greenery interspersed with the architectural elegance of the nearby buildings.

As the echo of a knock reverberated through her space, it disrupted the serene equilibrium she had cultivated, drawing her attention with an intensity that was impossible to ignore. Ondrea's signature style, a blend of shadowy hues and intricate textures, spoke volumes about her character; she embraced the darkness not merely as a fashion statement but as a shield against the world’s judgments. The aura of mystery that enveloped her was both a source of intrigue and trepidation, ensuring that she remained an enigmatic figure, cloaked in the very essence of her chosen attire

As Ondrea opened the door, she was greeted by a visage that resonated deeply within the annals of her family. Cormac, a steadfast presence since his youth, stood before her clad in his signature ensemble—sleek, armored leather adorned with a distinctive bell sigil prominently displayed on his chest. This emblem, a testament to his unwavering loyalty and dedication, seemed to shimmer in the soft light.

It was evident that Cormac had taken the time to present himself with an air of refinement, embodying a sense of readiness for the day ahead. His hair, meticulously groomed and freshly washed, framed his face, which bore the marks of a recent shave.

Ondrea couldn't help but notice the subtle yet inviting scent of coconut that lingered around him, a fragrant whisper of tropical allure that seemed to complement his polished demeanor.

"My Lady." He addressed with a bow of his head. "All men are accounted for. Our ships are docked and being tended to as we speak. It's been recommended that we tip the service crew. I wanted to get your input."

Ondrea retreated a step, extending an invitation to Cormac as he entered her sanctuary. In stark contrast to his presence, the air within her abode was devoid of the exotic fragrances that characterized this new land; instead, she had meticulously chosen to fill her space with the familiar aromas of incense, carefully selected from her homeland. The delicate tendrils of smoke curled upward, weaving a tapestry of nostalgia that enveloped her, reminding her of of home.

Though she found herself amidst the unfamiliar, the longing for the essence of home lingered in whatever vestiges were left in her heart.

"Extend to them a generous gratuity, one that would comfortably sustain their needs for the forthcoming weeks. Should their circumstances demand further assistance, we shall delve into our reserves to accommodate their requests."

Cormac acknowledged the suggestion with a subtle nod, his gaze drifting toward the window. The vibrant calls of exotic birds echoed in the distance, their persistent cries resonating like a siren song, beckoning him to embrace the allure of this uncharted territory.

"-We've gotten word from some of the locals regarding some concerning news. Like many lands, they're wrought with bandits, enemies, those who would seek you out to cause you harm or your family harm simply because of your status. These warnings you're familiar with. I ask you now, Lady Cress---how would you like to proceed if met with violence?"

The interval stretched between them, enveloped in an almost palpable silence that seemed to linger in the air. In this serene yet charged moment, the only sounds that penetrated the stillness were the distant echoes of the bustling city below, a symphony of urban life, harmonizing with the sharp cries of seabirds soaring overhead.

"My father once said: "Violent excitement exhausts the mind and leaves it withered and sterile." I find it ironic, considering the means this House has taken in its past. Perhaps, in some way, he sought to extinguish that flame."

She paused without contemplation, but more so for effect. "Our words are "Light your candles". Keep them lit, guide the dead home, tolling of the bells--all that history you're intimately familiar with."

"Aye." Cormac affirmed.

"To preserve equilibrium in our interactions, it is essential to respond to hostility with an equally assertive stance. Those who seek to embody this principle to its utmost will find themselves confronted with a response that is magnified tenfold, ensuring that the scales of power remain justly aligned. This approach not only safeguards our interests but also serves as a testament to our unwavering commitment to resilience in the face of adversity."

Cormac found himself unable to divert his gaze from Ondrea's striking visage, captivated by the intensity that radiated from her. It was no revelation to him that her response would carry such weight; in fact, he had secretly wished for the tempest of turmoil that raged within her to find some semblance of calm.

Yet, he recognized the futility of such hopes, as the storm seemed to only grow more ferocious with each passing moment. She stood before him, a living testament to the void, and he could almost perceive the dark tendrils of it wrapping themselves around her very essence. Despite the overwhelming nature of the situation, he felt an unyielding determination to engage with her, to reach through the shadows that enveloped her.

"Might it be possible..." he ventured cautiously, "...that extending a measure of mercy could yield positive outcomes? We are in uncharted territories, after all, filled with diverse cultures and unfamiliar customs."

Ondrea's response was immediate, her thickly shaped brow arching in skepticism as a low, dark chuckle escaped her lips, reverberating with a chilling resonance.

"Do you truly think they would entertain such notions about us?" she retorted, her voice laced with a steely resolve. "I refuse to gamble with the safety of our people."

Cormac drew in a deep breath, savoring it before exhaling sharply through his nostrils. "So be it. Violence will be met with violence."

[verona2314]

Judgment of the Damned (Translation)

Summary:

In the realm of Limbo, where souls deemed too good for Hell but not virtuous enough for Heaven reside, Victoria finds herself thrust into an unprecedented mission. When a notorious sinner, Sir Pentious, achieves redemption and ascends to Heaven, it sends shockwaves through all realms. Tasked with unraveling this mystery, Victoria, a minor judge of souls, is sent to the infamous Hazbin Hotel in Hell. For the first time, an emissary from Limbo steps foot into the fiery depths, tasked with observing and judging the denizens of Hell for their potential for redemption. As Victoria navigates this unfamiliar territory, she captures the unrequired attention of the enigmatic Radio Demon, Alastor. Amidst the chaos of demonic antics and the pursuit of understanding redemption, Victoria must confront her own beliefs and judgments. As she delves deeper into the secrets of the Hazbin Hotel, Victoria uncovers hidden truths about sinners, redemption, and the ultimate fate of souls caught between damnation and salvation. With each soul she encounters, Victoria's journey becomes not only a quest for answers but a personal voyage of self-discovery in the heart of darkness.

Chapter 1: The realm in the middle

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sera.

Sera was pacing nervously around her office with her arms folded behind her back. She knew it was only a matter of time before she was asked to explain herself, before she got that call. No. Heaven was not her concern, not at all. Everyone trusted her completely and her judgement, moreover, kept the worst truths hidden. No. The real problem was... them. Those beings as old as creation itself. Those chosen by the creator to judge actions. Those that no one had heard from since Lucifer's banishment. Those who claimed to follow the will of the prime mover. Those who had become a myth, a legend. But Sera knew they were real and that their authority should never be questioned. 

The doors to her office opened, bursting through her thoughts and anxious walk. Emily looked at her with excitement, unaware of the reprisals they risked.

"Don't you think it's amazing, Sera? Finally there is proof that redemption is possible. We must immediately tell Hell about this, to Charlie," she declared with the utmost enthusiasm. Sera tried to hide her concern. She would try to reason with Emily. 

"Yes, there does indeed seem to be evidence. However, before we give news of this, we must...check that this soul....

"Sir Pentious," Emily corrected.

"Yes...ehem it is prudent to check that Sir Pentious is indeed a sinful soul from hell and that there was no mistake. It would be prudent to check the book of St. Peter. We don't even know if he came here because of redemption. 

"What are you talking about? Sera, he appeared before us for a reason. Don't you think this is a sign? 

"Emily, we have to be careful. There are things at stake that you don't know about.

"I think you're just making excuses.  After all, you allowed the destruction of human souls without even blinking, didn't you? Are you worried now that you've made a mistake? Do you feel guilt at all? 

"Emily!," This time she couldn't contain her anguish and grabbed the little angel by the shoulders. Her face was overcome with nervousness,"Please, I need you to trust me. This situation is dangerous. We could be sentenced to hell.

Emily looked at her with surprise at first, but that expression was replaced with sternness-I can't trust you anymore," she declared, releasing her grip, "Not after everything you've kept from me," the little angel began to walk out of the room without looking at her again, "I think I'm going to have to do this on my own.

"Emily,"Sera was about to stop Emily when an old black phone began to ring. Each ring sent shivers down her spine and tensed her body. Her eyes stared with absolute tension at the device. She knew that device had never rung before, not since the apple incident with Eva. Sera knew clearly that the line on that phone was connected to the domain of the medium. Limbo.

Lucifer.

His foot tapped insistently on the white marble floor as he sat on a wooden bench, leaning his back against the backrest with his arms folded. His face was set in a grimace that showed his displeasure and discomfort at being in this place. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as these angel-like beings in black robes fluttered around the place with stacks of papers in their arms. It seemed to be the usual commotion of the place. From time to time these creatures would glance at him and whisper among themselves while giving him looks of curiosity or disgust. He definitely wanted to get it over with and go home to his adorable, non-judgmental ducklings.

"¿Lucifer?" 

The king of hell looked at the owner of the voice and his displeasure only increased. 

"Sera. I see you were summoned to this... insipid place as well," the Seraphim leader gave him a look of complete indifference. She surveyed the surroundings of the place carefully, studying every decoration, every detail, every step. 

"So... this is the supreme court. 

"Nervous? You should be. Oh, but you guys didn't seem too upset when you sent me here to stand trial with Lilith. 

"It was the right thing to do," she replied indifferently.

"And now look at you here! Aren't you afraid that now you might be judged?

"What are they like?

"The supreme judges?," he replied with a shrug, "Well, I don't know. I could tell they are huge, but they stand in the shadows in their high seats as they look down on you. You see only eyes glaring, judging you, with voices echoing across the stone. Some are stern, others with a hint of compassion," Lucifer looked at the seraph. She looked nervous, frightened even. He couldn't hold back a grin, for the smartest thing she could do right now was just that. Fear," Anyway, do you have any idea why we've been summoned?,"

Sera seemed to hesitate before answering him, but finally, clenching her fists, she decided to respond,"A sinner... made it to heaven. Apparently he achieved redemption.

"What the fuck are you talking about? That's impossible," he replied, unable to contain his laughter. It was simply ridiculous. However, seeing the seraphim's seriousness, the smile slowly faded. It was clear that Sera was deadly serious.

"I don't know whether to call it redemption, but it is a fact that one of your sinners appeared in heaven, in front of me, without going through St. Peter. Well, if anyone knows about redemption it's limbo, right?

"I can't believe you're so ignorant. Do you really think limbo is where souls are purified before they go to heaven? I mean, no soul that has come here has ever left. No. Don't be naive. Yes, it's true that "limbo" is the place where souls who aren't bad enough to go to hell but aren't fit to go to heaven either end,"Sera looked at him with an arched eyebrow,"You don't get it, do you? It's the 'grey' souls that end up in this place to hide the fact that not all cases can be limited to being condemned to eternal punishment or living wonderfully in heaven, that there's a small crack in this supposedly perfect system of the afterlife," Sera looked at him with disbelief and doubt, but Lucifer knew that she could not deny the fact that no one had ever seen a resident soul of limbo outside of there, much less interacted with the celestials of that realm.

"So what work do the celestials do here if these souls are destined to stay? 

"Well, this place not being heaven or hell is a kind of mediator, an objective middle ground. See those black robes running around? Those are the minor judges. They are in charge of observing the living, all the acts they perform and judge them as good or bad and from that they make a file. 

"What for?

"Well, when the person dies, that file is sent to the five supreme judges to "supposedly" judge whether that soul will go to heaven or hell. Although souls judged to go to limbo are very atypical. 

"Supposedly? Sounds like you're having doubts, Morningstar.

The king of hell couldn't help but laugh at the comment,"Oh, come on Sera, you know me. I've always known how to question things, to think critically, unlike you guys. I mean, if those guys were really involved in that decision, they wouldn't be so uptight about a redeemed soul. I think these supreme judges, like all of us, have no idea what condemns or saves a soul. 

"Be careful Morningstar. 

"What? They already judged me and sentenced me to hell. But you, on the other hand, you should be worried, Sera. You think they'll be sympathetic to your plan to exterminate souls? And I'll tell you something else. All these human souls residing here think that something better awaits them, but I believe they are destined to remain trapped here forever.

"ENOUGH! I won't let you keep questioning everything, trying to put rebellious ideas into my head. 

"I'm not the one making you doubt, Sera, it's your common sense.

"You were always like that. But I have faith that these judges know what's going on, and that we were called in just to clean up this mess. 

They both stared at each other in silence until he looked away with a grimace of distaste as he shrugged his shoulders. This place, the supreme court, brought back bad memories. It was here that the rest of the angels brought him in chains to receive his trial and punishment. Just remembering Lilith's face made his heart shrink and ache. 

After a few minutes, a minor judge informed them that the supreme judges were ready to receive them. They were led through long corridors, each replete with numbered doors, staircases, all on marble floors that made their footsteps echo. They passed a large door that stood open, revealing a room with endless shelves full of files. It was impossible to see where it ended.

"What is that place," he asked. The celestial gave him a friendly smile. 

"Oh, that? That's the archive. It holds the files of all the souls who have been judged by the supreme judges. It's an infinite room. Great, isn't it?

"If they actually judge anything," he mumbled. 

"Did you say anything?," asked the celestial. Lucifer just shook his head, "Oh. Oh, that's all right. Well, once you enter the courtroom, I ask you to be quiet. The supreme ones still seem to be debating.

Finally they came to a huge marble door, one that the king of hell was already familiar with. He couldn't help but shudder at the bad memories it brought back. The gigantic doors opened, revealing a huge round room with two tables in the centre with two chairs each. In front, the large, raised dais where these unknown beings sat, of which only their eyes were visible, as the shadows hid the rest. Their voices echoed through the place as they could be heard debating.

Ehud "I have always believed in redemption, and now we have proof of it. Our system must be upgraded." 

Myram "Sure, Ehud, you were always very compassionate. But once a soul gets to hell, it cannot leave. It is definite. Otherwise what would be the point of behaving well in life if by going to hell you can change your attitude and earn heaven?"

Ehud" It's not that I'm soft, Myram. But everything has always been about forgiveness. But I can't deny that you have a good point there." 

Deborah "I think you're both right, but we can't deny the fact that a soul came from hell to heaven, and his record changed from condemned to redeemed. It is a fact, regardless of our beliefs, it is what it is." 

Myram "As always, stating the obvious, Deborah." 

Otoniel "Don't you realize that this jeopardizes our whole system? We must find a way to revoke this. It's already ridiculous to have human souls in limbo and now this. Redemption? That's bullshit. Those souls were sent to hell for a reason and we can't start questioning it. It would be fucking fucking chaos."

Ehud "Well, it's not like we have much control over..."

Seilmon "Ah, I see our guests have arrived. Try not to talk too much, my dear colleagues. Lucifer Morningstar, Sera. Welcome to the supreme court. Thank you very much for attending. Lucifer, we haven't seen each other since your trial." 

The demon king preferred to remain silent. It was very clear that the atmosphere among the supremes was tense and confrontational, so he was not going to push his luck.

Seilmon "Well, you know us, but we must introduce ourselves to your companion. Sera, we are the supreme judges, Deborah, Myram, Otoniel, Ehud, and I, the president of this court, Seilmon. Surely you want to know why we have asked you to appear here. And yes, your suspicions are true. A soul from hell was redeemed and ascended to heaven. The problem is, we don't have the slightest idea how or why." 

Lucifer couldn't believe that Seilmon's voice remained the same. A velvety, older man's voice, deep and confident. Deborah's voice was feminine, gentle and calm. Myram also had a feminine voice, but it was rough and very harsh, as were her comments. Ehud, his voice was jovial and slow, as if he was always sleepy. Otoniel, on the other hand, had the voice of a general who sought to spill the blood of all his enemies and make them suffer slowly. Perhaps his thoughts should not wander in the voice of the supreme ones, but he was not surprised that they knew nothing about redemption. He had serious doubts as to whether these judges really judges human souls. If anything, though, they were capable of sending him and Lilith to hell, so their command of judge was no joke.

Lucifer was so lost in his musings that he didn't notice Sera babbling.

Seilmon "I see. So he didn't even appear before St. Peter. Interesting. Well, if redemption is possible, clearly it's a phenomenon we need to understand better. Who knows. It might even lead us to create a new process or criteria to be applied by the minor judges. It would also make it easier for your daughter to do the work she is trying to do."

-Charlie?," he asked with some concern.

Seilmon "Yes. Anyway... I think all of us in this court can agree that we need more information before we make a decision. This could help us determine what to do about the exterminations." 

-Y...you..you know about it?,"Sera asked, completely nervous. 

Seilmon "Of course we do. But we avoid meddling in matters that are the jurisdiction of heaven and hell. As both parties agreed on the matter, we saw no problem."

Otoniel "Besides, it seemed like the only way to deal with the overcrowding in that stinking place. No offence to Morningstar." 

Deborah "However, if it is indeed possible to redeem a large number of souls, I mean a significant number, it would imply that these exterminations were absolutely unnecessary and we will have to pay for the souls destroyed that could have potentially ascended to heaven. Especially since they denied any kind of support or investigation when the idea was raised by the princess of hell."

Myram "We will judge Sera's actions in due course. It is the right thing to do. When Lucifer and Lilith created that hellish world by thinking they were so clever, it was only right that they should take responsibility for the disaster they caused. Everything has consequences. Everything. And believe it or not, Lucifer, we take into account that they meant well, but you know what they say. Hell is paved with good intentions." 

Ehud "That said, how are we going to gather information? Where do we start?"

This situation could be advantageous. If they could get data favourable to redemption, Charlie's dream could come true and hell would have something it never had before. Hope. To do this, it was necessary to change the general opinion about the inhabitants of hell. Not that they were unfounded, but neither could they blindly assert that they were all the same - can I recommend something? If this is about damned souls, the best place to start is hell. Let's investigate the sinners, get to know them and look for commonalities, taking as our first reference the redeemed soul, erm what was his name?

"Sir Pentious," muttered Sera.

"What, that guy, the snake man? Anyway, whatever. Let's take Sir Pentious' actions as a starting point and I can look for potentially redeeming souls. 

Myram "You? Fuck that. I wouldn't trust your judgement if it was the only way to avoid having my tongue shoved down my throat. You're rebellious, dreamy, naïve, you're not objective and above all, you could never properly understand a human soul because you're not. You saw what you did to humanity with that shitty apple. Didn't you ever wonder why an apple? A fucking apple!"

Deborah "I think he got the point...Myram. I think the plan is good. We just need to decide who will execute the task." 

Seilmon "I have the right person...and she will stay at the Hazbin Hotel," the president of the court said as six blue eyes glowed in the shadows along with a wide smile that tried to convey calm but only made Lucifer bristle and Sera tremble.  

Slowly, other eyes of different colors began to glow in the darkness. The court had come to an agreement.

LINK PART II

[anonymocha]

Celestial Body • Voyager x Kaalaa Baunaa

“The cosmos is within us. We are made of star stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.” —Carl Sagan

Synopsis — Voyager figured that it’s about time she revealed the true form she hid beneath her uniform to Kaalaa Baunaa, someone very close to her. Understandably, the reveal was quite a shock for the astronomer.

Words — 1.2K words.

CWs — Cosmic horror? I mean if a girl holds the essence of the fabrics of the cosmos in her very form and made me touch it, I would be horrified too.

A/N — This is like an elaborate coffee-induced BRAINSPILL, my bad. Voyager brainrot. May write another fic with this pairing that’s less “fuck it we ball” than this one.

The uniform she held onto for years upon years vanished into thin air, revealing the starry void that is her bare skin, illuminated by the moonlight.

“I told you… It’s nothing like yours,” Voyager chuckled, her voice soft.

And indeed, she spoke true. The only semblance of familiarity in her form was the faint outline of a slender humanoid figure she possessed. Otherwise, she’s a canvas painted with the colors of the cosmos. Kaalaa Baunaa's breath caught in her throat as her gaze trailed the patterns of stardust that danced across Voyager's skin. Cluster of stars, planets, nebulas, galaxies, supernovas, quasars, pulsars, and black holes, all woven together in a mesmerizing, swirling tapestry. Some parts of her body, like her face, arms, and legs, were still veiled by a layer of white. The very thing concealing her true nature from the others.

“Hmm?…” Voyager tilted her head as she approached the astronomer on the couch, giving her a closer look at her form. It’s almost intimidating, truly. Having who may be the essence of the universe itself towering over her in such proximity. Yet, there was no trace of arrogance in Voyager's demeanor, only a gentle curiosity that radiated from her being. It seemed that Kaalaa Baunaa’s reactions were quite a delight to this enigmatic creature. After all, who could blame an astronomer for being completely and utterly awestruck by a beautiful being, beyond her feeble comprehension, baring herself in front of her naked eyes?

To be in the presence of such magnificence was both humbling and exhilarating.

As Voyager drew closer, Kaalaa Baunaa felt a rush of emotions swirling within her like a black hole. She could sense the gravitational pull of Voyager's presence, a force that threatened to pull her into the depths of an unknown abyss.

And that description wouldn’t be too far off.

And in that moment, Voyager took Kaalaa Baunaa's trembling wrist, guiding it to her abdomen. Expecting to feel the warmth of skin, instead, Kaalaa Baunaa was met with a… Truly startling revelation.

“Ah!—” she gasped sharply when the flesh of her hand did not meet the resistance of Voyager’s skin. Instead, she felt her hand sink deeper into the alien’s abdomen. She’s… This… Her hand… It… It felt chillingly, hauntingly cold, and empty. The astronomer retaliated, pulling her hand out of Voyager’s abdomen in a cold sweat. What is this feeling? Horror? Fascination? Dread? Wonder?

“I’m sorry… I… Hah… It was too fast. I wasn’t ready,” the woman panted. Was that actually space, or was it something else? Another realm? A portal? A mirage? No. She couldn’t sense any illusions, or was her intuition failing her? Oh, it’s terrifying. She’s terrifying. She wouldn’t expect her work partner to contain the very universe within her all this time. The implications of what she had just experienced sent shivers down Kaalaa Baunaa's spine. Like an ant meeting a god, yet have no words to describe or comprehend what god is.

Voyager's eyes softened with understanding as she watched the turmoil unfolding within Kaalaa Baunaa's soul. She reached out a hand, her touch gentle, and cupped the astronomer's trembling cheek. It proved to be effective, the woman slowly calmed under Voyager's touch, her racing thoughts gradually subsiding as she focused on the warmth emanating from the alien's hand.

“I'm sorry for startling you…” the usually silent Voyager murmured, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of emotions that the astronomer couldn’t lay her finger on. “But I wanted you to see... to understand.”

“No… It’s alright, truly… I just… I… I’m sorry, again… I hope my reaction didn’t offend you… But what was that?” she leaned into Voyager’s touch, clinging to her hand like a vulnerable tiger cub.

Voyager could only respond by looking up in thought, before closing her eyes and shaking her head with a smile. “It’s okay…” Voyager mumbled, her voice barely a whisper against the backdrop of the silent room. “I understand that it's overwhelming… I don’t think I can describe it myself… But… That was me. As I am.”

Kaalaa Baunaa sighed, taking deep breaths. That wasn’t a satisfying answer at all. But in a way, she understood her place as a mortal, and how hard it would be for Voyager to explain herself to her.

“I don’t think I can ever wrap my head around it. I don’t think I can truly ever understand you, just like how I could never understand the universe itself. But I can do one thing I do best… I can try.” Kaalaa Baunaa looked up at the alien with determination in her eyes, a newfound resolve settling within her. She may never fully grasp the intricacies of Voyager's existence, but she was determined to cherish every secret they shared. This is a chance like no other, she thought. A chance to truly witness, even touch, someone beyond her with her own hands.

As Kaalaa Baunaa gazed into Voyager's eyes, she saw a reflection of her own curiosity and wonder mirrored back at her. That’s everything she needed to see.

With a newfound sense of awe and reverence, Kaalaa Baunaa reached out once more, this time with a steadier hand, and gently touched Voyager's abdomen again. This time, she felt the chill of emptiness and the vastness of space with a sense of reverence rather than fear. Each inch of her skin that passed through the other’s created soft ripples throughout the canvas, as if she were delving into a veil of mist. The stars would gleam against her skin and silver jewelries, casting brilliant colors unto her hand. Truly nothing like anything she has ever since before. Not even in the meditator’s realm.

The initial seconds of coldness were just as piercing as before. But the longer her hand lingered in there, the warmer it was. She couldn’t sense the celestial energies she commonly associated with the stellar. But she could feel something truly other. One that she could only describe as… Voyager herself. A cosmos unique to her. Such a revelation is… Endearing, to say the least.

This is the essence of the Voyager she held dear, a beloved friend and partner who is both beyond her yet incredibly connected to her, the same being who enjoyed playing the violin, the girl who admired animals and their sounds, and the mysterious entity who had captured her heart in ways she couldn't fully comprehend.

She felt… So small compared to this being. And yet, this being is embracing her with her essence, her love, her all.

What an honor. A privilege.

As Kaalaa Baunaa withdrew her hand, a sense of peace washed over her, replacing the initial shock and uncertainty with a newfound sense of acceptance and understanding. She looked at Voyager, her eyes alight with a newfound appreciation towards her.

The uncertainty, questions, bewilderment, and countless indescribable emotions stirred in her heart, but the astronomer smiled tenderly, her cheeks tinted with warmth. Is an answer what she wants? Not really… She doesn’t feel the hunger for explanations or justifications. It’s not something Kaalaa Baunaa wants to put her through. But instead… She wants Voyager to know one thing.

“You’re beautiful, dear, please remember that…” she rose from the couch, lacing their fingers together as she pulled Voyager into a gentle embrace, planting a kiss on the alien’s cheek. Voyager returned the embrace with a softness that belied her cosmic nature, her arms wrapping around the astronomer.

“You truly are… Out of this world. I love you. I truly, truly do love you.”

Despite everything, what matters the most to her, is to let Voyager know that she is loved and adored, no matter the mysteries that belies her.

The alien could only smile, as she always does.

[ceofjohnlennon]

"Eventually I learned to distinguish the differences in temperament. John's granny glasses and pale skin, milk-white like the tigers in the Delhi zoo, suggested the persona of a studious intellectual, high-strung and enigmatic, carefully sifting the text of the Maharishi's wisdom for the grains of something that he could recognize as the truth. Like a lot of other people west of Suez, in Europe and America, he'd been expecting a guru to turn up, and suddenly, 'There he was in the Hilton hotel.' Yes, he said, it was great to be rich, great to be famous, but 'we're not the eternal rich men,' and money isn't what makes or sings the songs. One evening when Harrison said that 'nobody can be one hundred percent without the inner life,' Lennon told the other students at the table that the band's records served as diaries of its developing consciousness. In the photographs seen on the covers of their recent albums, he hoped and assumed that people might notice 'something going on behind the eyes other than guitar boogie.' He wasn't sure that the Maharishi was wiser than Lewis Carroll, but he knew that if a person could find within himself an inner wonderland impervious to the pressures of space and time, 'then nothing's going to shake my world.' Ringo and Paul didn't talk as much about the meditation. Yes, they had results with it. No, it wasn't a put-on, but their attitude implied that it was George's thing, and if he wanted to go to India, okay, fine, everybody went to India. Ringo missed his children and his nine cats, and he figured that he could assume the lotus position just as successfully in Liverpool. Maureen hated the flies — to the point that if there was only one fly in the room she would know exactly where it was, how it got there, and why it must be destroyed. She and Ringo had consulted the Maharishi on the subject, but the Maharishi told them that for people traveling in the realm of pure consciousness, flies no longer matter very much. 'Yes,' Ringo said, 'but that doesn't zap the flies, does it?' McCartney objected to the Maharishi's excessive adulation of the band and all its works ('the bit about being the sons of God and the saviors of mankind'), nor did he much care for the abstractions that sustained the yogi's grandiose metaphysics. 'I get a bit lost in the upper reaches of it,' he said. He also wished that the Maharishi would avoid talking to the Beatles about subjects that he, McCartney, knew something about. He found the Maharishi's support of the draft laws disillusioning; his girlfriend, Jane Asher, often wondered aloud what it would be like to see the moonlight on the Taj Mahal. Talking to Paul was easier than talking to George or to Ringo — his accent not as strong, more willing to exchange meaningless pleasantries, still fond of smoking cigarettes, his sense of humor affable and tolerant. When he showed up one day at lunch to say that he'd had a dream about being trapped in a leaking submarine of indeterminate color, it was Anneliese Braun who provided the interpretation. She clapped her hands in the enthusiastic way of a child seeing its first snowfall. 'How very nice,'x she said, wondering if McCartney appreciated the great truth with which he had been blessed. Paul smiled and said he didn't think he quite got all of it. 'Why it's the perfect meditation dream,' Anneliese said. The voyage in the submarine represented the descent into pure consciousness in the vehicle of the mantra; the leaks represented anxiety, and the surfacing of the submarine in a London street signified a happy return to society and one’s fellow men (like Ulysses coming back to Penelope), which was the purpose of all good meditation. The other people at the table applauded, and Geoffrey drew a comparison to the paintings of Hieronymous Bosch."

The Beatles in India. ㅡ From the book "With The Beatles" by Lewis Lapham.

[delta-queerdrant]

where are your troubles now? forgotten? (Resistance, s2 e12)

(POV you’re watching the Barbie intro but it’s Star Trek screenwriters. Please indulge me.)

Once, in another century, there was a show called Star Trek Voyager. (Cue 2001: A Space Odyssey music.) A lady and two dudes created it. Occasionally other ladies cowrote episodes. But by the time Season Two rolled around, there were not so many ladies. Actually there was just Jeri Taylor, and by god she tried. But one lady cannot be all things to all people.

Then in November 1995, a great miracle happened. A new lady was hired to write a teleplay. It was fresh, inventive! Something was happening!

Her name was (music crescendos)

L I S A K L I N K

I don’t know much about Lisa Klink, except that “Resistance” marks the beginning of her multi-season involvement in Voyager, and that she was a five-time Jeopardy winner. (I do not watch Jeopardy, I would not be good at Jeopardy, but Jeopardy people are nevertheless my people.) Mostly I know that I turned on “Resistance” and, despite my general disinterest in the show’s production history, immediately asked: who the FUCK wrote this?

“Resistance” is not a perfect episode, but after half a season of flailing, it is a revelation. Klink, writing the script for a story by Michael Jan Friedman and Kevin J. Ryan, has a clear vision of what Voyager can be - a show that’s grounded, emotionally resonant, and trusts its actors. 

I am partial to the gritty, Blade Runner-inflected, Firefly/BSG brand of science fiction television, so when we started in media res, our heroes in civvies doing deals in an outdoor market, I died and went to cyberpunk heaven. (Neelix’s coat alone is worth the price of entry.) Instead of swanning across the galaxy like tourists in a slightly under-resourced cruise ship, the Voyager gang are finally the scrappy underdogs they ought to be.

This is our second Janeway episode of the season, and the first episode, perhaps of the series, that really gives her a character mandate beyond “strong but feminine captain who loves her dog.” Mulgrew has her work cut out for her, acting against JOEL FUCKING GREY, but they’re both marvelous. Waking in the home of the enigmatically batty Caylem (in a claustrophobic sequence whose stagey absurdism recalls a Beckett play), Janeway slowly grows to understand that Caylem, who’s decided she’s his daughter, might be her best ally for escape. The growing emotional connection between the two is so tender and understated; as a writer, Klink has mastered the light touch.

Janeway and Caylem end up collaborating with the local resistance movement to rescue Torres and Tuvok, who have been imprisoned by the lawful evil overlords of this world. Our characters genuinely feel like they are in big trouble! Torres and Tuvok’s prison stint is rough. (I did enjoy B’Elanna’s beatnik dissident prison garb. She looks like it is approximately 1956 and she is a French student who has been arrested for throwing a baguette at a cop.)

The only weak sequence is the prison break itself, which feels too easy and relies on a tired “sex worker disguise” subterfuge. But the ending is so satisfying and will break your heart.

Once Janeway’s back in uniform, it feels like we’ve truly been on a journey, one that brings to mind iconic episodes like “The Inner Light.” Voyager is a long way from home, and I want these characters to go through transformative experiences. The boldness of this episode gets us a little bit of the way there.

A radical reimagining of Voyager, and the best episode of season two in my estimation. I award this one 4.5/5 melon hats.