#fili is santa

[starlighttfoxx]

It’s so funny Gandalf sent Dwalin to Bilbo first, lol, the second most intimidating down from Thorin. Then presumedly went on to send Balin, who looks like a dwarven Santa. THEN Fili and Kili. Gandalf was going for intimidating first; get that out of the way; then give a cheery, sweet old man; and lastly, introduce two young charmers before bombarding the poor hobbit with the rest of them.

[shire-lady-rozie]

Santa?

Bilbo pulling Balin away on christmas eve

Bilbo, whispering : Kili and Fili are sure to sneak out to see santa. Be santa, please Balin?

Balin : Fine, whatever makes the burglar happy

That night :

Balin, dressed up as santa eating cookies and putting down presents that bilbo wrapped.

Kili : Santa? Why do you have a knife?

Balin as santa : To kill the naughty boys, we ran out of coal

Kili : Fiiiiliiii! hide me from santa!!!

[raffaeleitlodeo]

Discorso tenuto da Daniele Leppe davanti al papa nella Basilica San Giovanni in Laterano, in data 25 ottobre 2024.

Ringrazio Sua Santità e ringrazio il Vicariato di Roma per questa opportunità unica. Nel ringraziarLa Le rappresento una realtà invisibile, quella di una trincea dove anche Dio ha abbandonato tutti.

Credo di essere la persona meno adatta a raccontare il disagio che vivono le nostre periferie.

Nella vita di tutti i giorni faccio l’avvocato. Sono nato in un quartiere popolare di Roma, figlio di un impiegato e di una casalinga, una famiglia semplice che mi ha dato la possibilità, con molto sacrificio, di studiare. Per questo ho deciso di restituire ai quartieri dove sono nato e cresciuto un po’ della fortuna che ho avuto. Ho messo a disposizione la mia professionalità per aiutare le persone più semplici, gli ultimi quei dannati che non sanno di esserlo, gli abitanti dei quartieri popolari di questa città, troppo spesso dimenticati, che troppo spesso tornano ad essere cittadini come gli altri solo in occasione delle campagne elettorali.

Al di fuori della mia attività lavorativa, esercito il mio volontariato professionale in due quartieri difficili di Roma: Tor bella monaca e il Quarticciolo.

Il primo, nato nei primi anni ‘80, rappresenta l’ultimo intervento di edilizia pubblica fatto nella capitale, che doveva essere un quartiere modello e che, invece, è diventato il terzo carcere a cielo aperto della capitale: ci vivono ben 800 persone agli arresti domiciliari.

Il secondo, il Quarticciolo, anch’esso ultimo quartiere popolare edificato, ma questa volta durante il fascismo, negli anni 40, che è rimasto tale e quale a 80 anni fa.

A Tor bella monaca collaboro con l’associazione Tor Più Bella di Tiziana Ronzio; una donna che da sola combatte una lotta senza sconti, e per questo paga lo scotto dell’isolamento umano, contro gli spacciatori, che dispensano la vita e la morte in quel quartiere. Tiziana è riuscita, da sola, a liberare dal controllo della criminalità organizzata il suo palazzo, in via santa Rita da Cascia, con un effetto domino su tutto il comprensorio di case che costeggiano la via.

Ha lottato per i suoi figli e per le persone che vivono nel suo palazzo, e per questo paga un prezzo altissimo.

Vive sotto scorta ogni ora della sua giornata perché la sua vita è in pericolo. Non può uscire da sola nel quartiere. Riceve continue minacce da parte della criminalità organizzata mentre le Istituzioni non riescono ad andare al di là di una solidarietà formale.

Non sappiamo nemmeno quante persone abitino in quel quartiere.

Le statistiche parlano di 28000 persone, ma poiché molti degli immobili pubblici sono occupati, i dati non corrispondono alla situazione reale. Nel quartiere ci sono 14 piazze di spaccio. Gli spacciatori, il primo datore di lavoro del quartiere, pagano le vedette, i pusher; le famiglie che nascondono la droga nel proprio appartamento, corrompono l’anima dei giovani e privano le persone di un futuro dignitoso.

C’è una presenza altissima di ragazze madri con figli nati da relazioni diverse, con mariti ristretti in carcere. Di anziani disabili. Di povertà, educativa e alimentare. Accanto a un tessuto sociale straordinario colpisce, nell’anno giubilare, l’assenza delle Istituzioni, che intervengono nel quartiere solo come forza repressiva e per questo sono viste come nemiche, incapaci di comprendere il disagio e le difficoltà di chi vive nella povertà.

Sembra di assistere ad una sorta di tacito patto sociale in questa città.

Nei quartieri poveri della capitale viene lasciata vita facile alla criminalità organizzata più invadente, per consentire agli abitanti della Roma bene di vivere in tranquillità.

La mia attività, in realtà, non è tanto giuridica: il più delle volte mi occupo di collegare i fili immaginari fra i poveri diseredati e le Istituzioni, per risolvere problemi che altrove sarebbero semplici, ma che in condizioni di povertà diventano insormontabili.

Le condizioni di degrado umano, abiezione, povertà, sono indicibili.

Donne che vendono il proprio corpo per comprare la droga, genitori in mano ad usurai per pagare i debiti contratti dai figli, bambini che crescono con i nonni, famiglie distrutte dalla droga e dalla povertà.

Quattro mesi fa ho partecipato ad una messa tenutasi in ricordo di un bimbo morto nel quartiere a causa dei ritardi nei soccorsi provocati dalla rottura di un ascensore e di una ragazza morta investita lungo via di Torbellamonaca.

La messa si teneva di domenica mattina, dietro la famigerata R5, un complesso popolare situato in via dell’Archeologia attualmente in ristrutturazione. Per entrare nel complesso ho contato 4 ingressi. Ognuno di questi ingressi era presidiato da spacciatori che, come in una sorta di confine immaginario, segnano l’ingresso fra il dentro e il fuori. Questo accadeva in pieno giorno, senza alcun imbarazzo, a pochi chilometri da qui.

Quando iniziai a lavorare nel quartiere ho conosciuto una donna che viveva prigioniera degli spacciatori. Il figlio aveva contratto un debito con uno di essi. Non riuscendo a pagarlo, è fuggito. Alla madre hanno bruciato l’attività imprenditoriale per vendetta. Non sa dove è andato a vivere il figlio e non vuole saperlo. Lo fa per proteggerlo. Lo sente solo con telefoni usa e getta. Lei continua a vivere nello stesso quartiere dove è cresciuto il figlio e dove riceve le minacce dei criminali per il debito contratto del figlio. Sembra un altro mondo. Siamo a 10 km da San Giovanni. Non sembra di essere in un paese ricco, in una democrazia liberale.

Il Quarticciolo, invece, è l’esempio dell’abbandono pubblico - né più né meno come Tor bella monaca - e della capacità delle persone di reagire, costruendo una speranza concreta per i più poveri.

Li collaboro con un’associazione; Quarticciolo ribelle, composta da ragazzi e ragazze che, finita l’università, hanno deciso di andare a vivere in quel quartiere, cui si dedicano giorno e notte.

Anche il Quarticciolo è una nota piazza di spaccio di Roma.

Come tutti i quartieri di edilizia popolare, la povertà economica e sociale e l’abbandono del patrimonio pubblico da parte delle Istituzioni costituiscono l’humus ideale per la proliferazione della criminalità.

In quel quartiere gli spacciatori smerciano la loro roba seduti su comode sedie agli angoli delle strade, in particolare vendono crack, che trasforma i ragazzi che ne fanno uso, in zombie che girano come morti per il quartiere. È un quartiere dove la polizia di Roma capitale ha paura ad entrare e ha bisogno di un parcheggio privato per i propri poliziotti per evitare che le macchine siano vandalizzate, dove gli spacciatori minacciano gli operai delle ditte dell’Ater in occasione dei interventi per la manutenzione degli stabili, e tanto altro ancora.

I ragazzi di Quarticciolo Ribelle costruiscono, invece, giorno per giorno, un’alternativa possibile, con il loro esempio e con le loro attività.

Nel quartiere hanno realizzato una palestra popolare dove i bambini e le bambine sono seguiti, direi accuditi, e tenuti fuori da ambienti malsani.

I familiari i che non possono permetterselo, non pagano rette. Questi ragazzi, che come detto si sono soprannominati Quarticciolo Ribelle, hanno organizzato il doposcuola per i bambini.

Hanno creato, nel deserto, un ambulatorio sociale che interviene laddove lo Stato arretra.

Cercano di creare lavori, fornendo un’alternativa concreta, con un birrificio, una stamperia.

Come dicono loro, dove tutto chiude, noi apriamo.

Supportano le famiglie nei colloqui con i servizi sociali e nei colloqui scolastici.

Collaborano con l’università nell’immaginare un possibile alternativa.

Coprono buchi.

Danno ovviamente fastidio. Innanzitutto alla criminalità, che prospera laddove è maggiore il bisogno. Ma anche alle Istituzioni. Sono sentinelle attive che denunciano, senza sconti, le loro mancanze, le loro lacune.

Raccontano di come i prezzi delle case, sempre più insostenibili, allontano i poveri dalla loro città, trasformata in una Disneyland per ricchi e turisti.

Collaboro con associazioni scomode con problematiche insostenibili.

Perché la povertà e l’abbandono sono scomode.

È più facile costruire una cancellata, un recinto, un ghetto, per occultare la realtà che dare risposte concrete ai bisogni dei poveri.

Con tristezza infinita sono costretto a constatare che gran parte degli interventi pubblici delle Istituzioni per onorare il giubileo, nato anche per la promozione della dignità di ogni persona e per il rispetto del creato, non siano stati investiti e utilizzati per dare dignità agli abitanti più sfortunati della nostra città ma per rendere più comodi, belli e sicuri i quartieri bene della Città Santa che santa non può essere se non apre gli occhi sulle povertà diffuse che la popolano.

#roma

#giubileo

#periferie

#realtà_vs_belleparole

[mazerunnersecretsanta]

Merry Christmas @fili-is-gone

Title: The Grift

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: N/A

Wordcount: 3,500

Summary: During the months they spent planning their heist against WCKD, Brenda and Frypan watch their oblivious friends Thomas and Newt pining after each other, and decide to take some action. But sometimes the best plans are the ones that don't go quite as you planned at all.  

Message to giftee: Wishing a very happy secret santa to the great fili-is-gone!! Merry Christmas! 

[liciscaeziohankprofilodicoppia]

Botta...e botte: mi fa male il culo!

L' incontro di oggi sarebbe saltato per un mio attacco di stronzaggine acuta. Sono devota e innamorata ma, a tratti, stronza e se mi impegno riesco a far perdere la pazienza anche ai santi...Complici un periodaccio, la mia indole ribelle ecc. ecc.,stamattina mi sono svegliata con la ferma convinzione che oggi sarebbe stato meglio non incontrare D. In poche ore i miei propositi sono diventati altri e così, senza farmi pregare, accolgo la richiesta del mio Padrone di incontrarci per un chiarimento. In strada penso a cosa dire, a cosa fare e a cosa non dire e non fare. Seppur colto di sorpresa dal mio assenso, D., infila in tutta fretta un jeans e mi raggiunge nella nostra alcova. Già nelle scale sento la sua mano agganciarmi la fica, cerco di rimanere impassibile ma non riesco: il contatto è sempre un nostro infallibile metodo per ritrovarci. Entrati in studio, inizia a baciarmi e io, messa letteralmente con le spalle al muro, dimentico in fretta il perché di quell' incontro. Mentre mi dico che dovrei resistere almeno un pochino per una questione di "immagine", mi faccio penetrare in fica da mani e cazzo. Voilà: sono di nuovo inequivocabilmente sua. Non ci spogliamo neanche, scopiamo nell' ingresso. Ormai la mia reputazione di lady di ferro, incorruttibile, è andata a farsi benedire e quindi, a proposito di ferro, perché non approfittare della verga che mi sta trapanando?

Lo voglio in bocca, ho bisogno di tacere e di essere soffocata. Mi inginocchio e spalanco la bocca, pronta ad offrigli la gola e un piacere profondo. Il mio cazzo si fa strada, i conati si susseguono e presto è ricoperto da copiosi fili di saliva. D. mi rimette a quattro zampe e io mi offro a lui esponendo chiaramente fica e culo aspettando l'ennesima botta: nessun colpo di cazzo, soltanto solenni sculacciate. "Sei una stronza e ringrazia il cielo che nella fretta non ho indossato la cinghia", mi dice D. mentre me le dà di santa ragione. "Sei la MIA stronza e ti amo", aggiunge mentre si appresta all' ennesima batteria di colpi. Godo da morire e lo provoco con ipotesi e inviti che so benissimo non accetterà. Alla richiesta di portarmi in un club di scambisti occasionali, risponde con quello sguardo che preannuncia la tempesta e mi fa impazzire. Altri colpi, altre botte di cazzo fino al completo sfogo. Dopo la tempesta arriva il sereno: ribadito il suo ruolo di amante esclusivo, il mio uomo si placa e si dedica alla fica riempiendola e succhiandola fino al mio orgasmo. Godo nelle mani dell' unico uomo che è in grado di gestirmi, urlo per il piacere di avere la sua mano nella fica, lo guardo mentre mi rivesto, sorrido e mi vorrei spogliare nuovamente mentre lui, baciandomi dolcemente, sta già programmando il nostro prossimissimo incontro

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @miaulady​ based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, T

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.  

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3.

Prim, Proper, Perfect

—

Fili went over the list again. That couldn’t be right. It never happened before! Especially not with his cases. His kids were always clearly Naughty or Nice. He always got it all down. All the deeds and how good or bad they were. And his kids were always clearly on what side they were on before Christmas rolled around.

But this Guy.

This fucking guy.

“How?!” Fili threw his hands up and stared at his notepad.

There was no list he was on. How was this possible?

It was Kili Durin. Kili had been on the Nice List for … always. Ever since Fili started this and had him as one of his kids. Sure, he was reckless and could be mean in the moment with his temper. But he always made it up, apologised and did better. He was always on the Nice List!So you would think that it was a bad year and he was on the Naughty List. It happened. Fili would not like it. Because he knew Kili was good. And it was the last year where Kili would be considered still young enough to be part of this. But he couldn’t find his name on that List either.

He was neither. Not Naughty or Nice.

This was outrageous!

For Fili, of course. He had a reputation! A flawless reputation. There was always some deed the others overlooked or forgot that could sway such a case and Fili had them from the start because he did his job.

He had to get to work. There was only a few days left and he had to sway Kili to any of the two lists. Hopefully the Nice one.

Kili grabbed his coffee to go and stepped out into the street. The Ice made it slippery under his feet, almost making him fall and drop his coffee. The later would be a far bigger tragedy than him falling on his ass. It had been a rough year for him.

There had been the few months of dating Tauriel, that had been amazing. Then their break-up, that had been hell.

To think you found the love of your life to then figure out that it had been just a very good friendship and you are actually not very compatible further than your interests, that can take a heavy hit. And sure, they had taken their space from each other and were still friends. It didn’t change that Kili felt incredibly down, heartbroken and lonely.

“Kili? Hey, Kili!” Someone nudged him carefully and he looked up.

He blinked rapidly and stared. That couldnt be right. But there he was. Fili. In the flesh. With his signature fur jacket, the braided hair and the blue eyes.

“Uhm,” Fili looked a bit awkwardly around. “You are Kili, right?”

“I- yes. It’s just- It’s been years,” Kili laughed, trying to get rid of that awkwardness. Not only had it been years but Kili had been convinced that he had made Fili up. He had clung to the idea of Santa and his little helpers back then. Fili had been the Helper especially for Kili. Or that had been the story he had made up. He had also thought that he had made Fili up. Because no one else remembered the blonde. But here he was. Very much real. But not an elf. Obviously.

“I am sorry,” Fili smiled. “Are you busy? I would love to catch up.”

“Oh, yeah, sure! I mean, I got time!” Kili nodded eagerly. “We can go to my place? Only if you want, of course!”

It had been years since the deep winter where they had spent everyday together. Fili had been his best friend then. And he grew up cute and hot. Damn.

“Your place sounds great!”

Fili had hoped that Kili would remember him. It had been just at the start of his work and he hadn’t kept to the rules as strongly as he should have. And maybe it was the reason why he was so determined that Kili would get on the Nice List. Because Kili had been his first kid. He was Fili’s. Fili’s responsibilty, of course. Nothing else.

On the way to the small and cozy apartment Fili already had gotten three point for Kili to be on the Nice List. He had picked up trash, helped an old person over the slippery street and held open the train doors for someone running to catch the tram.

He could leave already. Technically. But maybe two more points, to solidify his spot, would be good.

“I am sorry, my keettle broke and I didn’t get a replacement yet. So I can’t really offer you much. Unless I use the stove.”

“I am alright,” Fili shrugges his jacket off and hung it up.

“You seemed stressed,” said Kili all of a sudden.

“Huh?” Fili turned around and looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“I just- I don’t know. Something about your shoulders. If you don’t have time for this-”

“I asked to catch up, remember?”

“Right,” Kili nodded and out his coffee cup down in the living room next to the couch. “You did.”

“Are you alright, Kili?” Fili got rid off his boots and walked over to the couch, folding his legs under him.

“Fine. I am fine,” Kili smiled and shook his head, shaking off the slight glassy eyes he had gotten. “Stressful year, especially now, close to Christams, you know. Getting all the presents. I am sure you have it too.”

“Mh,” Fili nodded. “It is the busiest time of year where I work.”

“Seriously?” Kili sat down and put his feet up on the small table. “What evil coporation did you get sucked into?”

“It’s not evil,” Fili frowned. “It’s- Well, I guess you could call it an organisational corporation that does charity as well as justice. It’s - uh, it’s complicated.”

Kili was frowning right alongside with him. “Never heard of anything like that.”

“Mh,” Fili shrugged. “It isn’t popular these days.”

Silence filled the room and Fili could almost see the tension in the room getting worse.

“So, what did your year make it so stressful? Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t think so,” Kili shrugged again. “I had a girlfriend and we broke up. I am just still working through that. And- uh- other stuff.”

“Tell me about it?”

“Listen,” Kili looked at him. “I- I am not the best, right now. And I struggle, that is all. From how I know you, you don’t have that problem.” He sunk back into the couch, crossing his arm and glaring at his coffee cup.

“Kili,” Fili sat closer. “I don’t always have everything in perfect order and done. No one does. Everyone struggles and makes mistakes.”

Especially for Fili. He wasn’t supposed to talk directly to Kili. That was against the rules. Technically. But he had broken them already when they were younger. Back then it had been because he hadn’t known better. But. Well. Now, he did know. He was breaking them with full intention. But what was he to do? Kili had to be on one of the Lists!

“Yeah, right,” Kili scoffed. “We haven’t seen each other in years and you still look like the three P’s.”

“The three P’s?”

“Prim, Proper and Perfect?”

Fili laughed and slapped his hand over his mouth.

“What?” Kili snapped around, a smile inching onto his face. “What is so funny? You said yourself that this is the most stressful time for you at your work. And yet here you sit, with me, something you don’t have to do at all, looking like you just hatched out of an egg!”

“Would it help if I told you that I am failing an assignement of my job?”

“No? Because then I would feel like an asshole. Can I help with it? Is that why you- No, wait. We met by chance. But still, can I help?”

Bingo. Point for the Nice List! They were doing so amazing.

“Thank you for offering,” Fili took his hand. “I appreciate it. And I am not prim, proper and perfect. But maybe I will get a cup written with that. Would be funny.”

Kili interlaced their fingers, huffing slightly before leaning against the chouch and looking at Fili again. More at ease now again.

“Where were you the last years? I thought - well, I thought I made you up.”

“I was around,” Fili rubbed his thumb over the skin of Kili’s hand. “I just … I am technically not supposed to be here. So, it is a secret,” he winked at him. “Don’t tell.”

“You don’t have time for this,” Kili sighed. “I knew it.”

“No, I have time. But I am not supposed to meet you.” Fili quickly looked down, focused on their hands. That- He shouldn’t have said that.

“Fili? You- Why aren’t you supposed to meet me?”

“It’s- It’s nothing,” he shrugged. “Forget I said anything.”

“No! No,” Kili scooted closer. “Are you going to be in trouble because you wanted to talk with me?”

“Not if no one finds out,” Fili looked hopeful at Kili. “All you have to do is not tell anyone.”

“Not tell anyone that I saw my best friend from a couple of years ago again?”

“Yeah.”

“Fili.”

“Yes?”

“Why would you be in trouble if someone found out?” Kili was staring intently at him. “Is it - Is it your family?”

“You could call them that,” Fili looked at the table and Kili’s steaming coffee cup. “Your coffee is getting cold.”

“Forget the coffee! Why? What is wrong with this? We are not even doing anything but talk.”

“I-” Fili tried to pull his hand away but Kili grabbed it harder. “Please, Kee. It’s- I could lose my position.”

“Because you talked to an old friend you met by chance?”

Fili grimaced, “Not - not really. I did look for you specifically.”

“And you tell me the corporation you work at is not evil,” scoffed Kili. “Talk to me about why you would get into trouble of seeing me and I will tell you about my break-up and how it fucked with my mental health. That sounds like a fair trade.”

Fili sighed and leaned back.

“I should go.”

“Will you?”

Fili shook his head. He shouldn’t have come at all. There was a good reason to not get into direct contact with your kids. Because of issues like this. Letting go was hard. They tended to get too close too fast, eager to help and love. And Kili was especially easy to love.

“Then start explaining, Fee.”

Fee. What a fitting nickname Kili had given him.

Kili was sitting on the couch, hands folded in front of him. He tried to take it all in.

“So. You are one of Santa’s Helpers.”

“Yes.”

“You are making the lists.”

“I help with that, yes.”

“And I am one of the people you keep track off?”

“Yes.”

“But I am a grown-up.”

“It is your last year.”

“And- And I am on the Naughty List and you want to change that?”

“No. You were on neither list until today. I think, as long as you keep this going, I can put you down on the Nice List one last time.”

“And you are not meant to see me because you keep track of me and that biases you.”

“And we tend to get too involved, yes.”

“So,” Kili looked over to Fili. “You should leave. I will make sure that I will good for the rest of the year.” He saw Fili light up. “Under one condition.”

“Not sure if that then still counts… but alright, what is your condition?”

“I want at least one date with you in the next year. You won’t be forbidden from seeing me then, right?”

He could see a cute blush rising on Fili’s cheeks.

“You want a date? I thought- with your break-up-”

“It’s been months,” Kili shrugged. “And I will tell you about that next year. Also, I am not blind. You are cute, hot and have the three P’s.”

“I am not prim, proper and perfect,” grumbled Fili and kicked him very softly.

“Carefuly, or it might be you who ends up on the Naughty List.”

Fili gasped and stared at him, “I at least am on a List! You couldn’t even get on either one because you were so average!”

Kili grinned, “Want me to be naughty then? I can be Naughty.”

“Shut up!”

“So, Is it a date?” He asked hopeful.

“Yes. But you have to be on the Nice List!”

“Well, that will be easy since I won’t see you until next year.”

Fili looked scepticall at the present that had poped into existince on his desk.

It was Christmas, and he knew that magic was higher than ever in this Night. But the handwritten note with the “For Fili” showed that it was not the usual annual present they got for their hard work. This was from someone else.

He pulled at the red bow and carefully took the wrapping off.

A coffee Mug.

“Hey, Fili,” Ori leaned over. “Oh! A present from one of the kids? It is rare that one thinks the Helpers deserve a present and the magic creates it. You had to have one pretty busy child this year on the Nice List!”

Fili stared at the Print on the Cup.

“Yeah. It is nice to be appreciated,” He smiled.

‘Prim. Proper. Perfect.’ was written beneath each other. Each P a bold red. Underneath, in a small print stood ‘Playful Pixie’.

To know that Kili was thinking of him, strong enough to set off a magical reaction, was heartwarming.

[am0o5]

Bilbo: Could you not stand so close to me, you’re making me claustrophobic.

Kill: What does claustrophobic mean?

Fili: It means he’s afraid of Santa Claus.

Bilbo: No it does not-

Kill: HO,HO,HO.

Fili: Stop it Kili! You’re scaring him!

[crystalbeetle888]

Voyage into the Unknown Pt.3

Master List Pt.2 - Pt.3 - Pt.4

The morning birds sing distantly as I groggily wake, sprawled across the soft bed. The sun is just beginning to peek through the window curtains ‘Too early’ I think tiredly. ‘Maybe Bilbo will allow me to sleep here forever’ I snuggle further into the blankets. Suddenly the door creaks open slowly, and I turn to look over my shoulder in fright, The strong bald man from the night before stands in the doorframe “Get up” he gruffs. I squint my eyes and pout “No” I grumble before flopping back into the warm bed, smirking victoriously to myself. I hear the short man grumble away ‘Stupid twat’ I think. More sets of footsteps return to the room, and I wrap the blanket over my head hiding away from the approaching men. “Last warning lass” the gruff man says. I continued to ignore him, laying still “Alright”, suddenly the blanket was thrown off me “Hay!” I yell at him. Before I can say anything else he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder “Wait, you can’t just take me!” I argue wriggling furiously in his grip. He tightens his hold on me causing me to huff uncomfortably “What are you? The fucking terminator?” defeated, I rest my chin in my hands, another funny looking, short, man with a starfish shaped hairdo picks my bag up and follows us out of Bilbos’ homes.

The early morning air is crisp against my exposed legs ‘Fuck I regret wearing shorts’ I think grumpily. The man places me on my feet in front of the rest of his group, who are packing their bags onto some shaggy looking ponies. Looking around the strange group of men, many of them, especially the older men, give me an unwelcoming and judgmental look. Clearly unimpressed by my lack of attire. One however, with a white hair and a long Santa's beard, looks beyond me, shaking his head at the bald man-handling one. The starfish guy drops my bag at my feet before walking off and joining up with two more weird little men. One of them, the shy bowel-cut guy from earlier, and the other, clearly older with white hair and a braided beard in a long metal clasp in the center. ‘Why are these people so weird?’ I cringe at their obvious stares and gossiping ‘Like I’m the freak here’ I think sarcastically.

Hoping to be left alone, Thorin decides to stroll over “Your garments are not suitable for travelling” he states simply, looking me up and down. “Not shit sherlock, if that man-handling ass over there didn’t kidnap me I might have been able to dress properly” I retorted. Thorin seems to understand enough of what I said, despite being confused by my language and references.

“Just get ready quickly, we leave in five minutes” He turns and struts away, hair flowing in the cool breeze like a loreal ad. I grin in amusement before rummaging through my bag for my smelly cargo pants, the fabric is still slightly damp, the same for the tank top and socks I pull out. ‘I’m gonna have to wash all my clothes now’ I grimace. Scanning around I spot a tall enough bush inside Bilbo’s garden to dress in, and whilst the men have their backs turned I sneak off to change. Returning to the group in my uncomfortable attire, I throw on my denim jacket, not just to keep warm, but to also cover my scar.

Despite thinking of myself as being a strong and independent woman, who doesn’t care for the unsolicited opinions of men. I still can’t help but feel self conscious about the stares it gets me. The looks of pity frustrate me the most, especially from people who assume to know me and my situation. The looks of disgust or shock couldn’t bother me less, however, ‘Just men being men’ I think irritated and tired.

Treading over to the group who have just mounted their ponies, I stand awkwardly out of place, waiting for further instructions. Thoirn looks over unconcerned “Since Gandalf did not inform me of your presence, you will ride with one of the company” He states before turning to his nephews “Fili, Kili, you will take shifts riding with her until we reach Bree” The two young men turn their ponies around and trot over, the brunette one leaning down and offering a hand “Jump on my lady”

Taking his hand I hop awkwardly on the pony in front of him, his head just being tall enough to rest on my shoulder “Looks like you're stuck with us until we get to Bree” he says breathing uncomfortably down my ear and neck, making me slightly flustered. “And how long till we get to Bree?” I ask. His blonde headed brother hums “Nine days, give or take”. “Nine days!?” I bark “I could do that in a few hours in the Ute” I huff in dismay. “What’s a Ute?” The blonde one asks before his brother interrupts “Cheer up lass, the journey to the mountain is going to be much easier once you have your own horse” He pats my hip in comfort before wrapping his arms around me and grasping the reins “Hold onto this when we ride” He pats the horn of the saddle “I know how to ride a horse mate” I sass him. “Well in that case, you can ride and I’ll just enjoy the journey” He chuckles handing me the reins “Fine then” I say allowing him to wrap his arms loosely around my waist.

Thorins’ voice booms over the chatter “We’re moving out!”. One by one the group, or company as the brothers put it, rides out of the happy little valley and into the wild. Kili, the brunette one, and Fili, his brother, obviously want to ride together so they can chat as we plod along.

“What do you think Miss?” Fili asks, I hum in confusion. Kili chuckles “We were talking about which is easier to learn, a sword or bow?” “Kili believing in the bow and I in the sword obviously” I turn to look at Fili riding next to us “I don’t know how to use either” I tell them simply. The two give each other a look “So, what is you're weapon of choice then?” Kili asks “I don't have a weapon of choice, I don't need one” I answer.

Fili scoffs and takes out a thick metal smoking pipe, shaking his head “Surely Gandalf wouldn’t bring a maiden on this quest if she was useless?” Kili questions. “Excuse you?” I turn to look at him, his brother silently chuckling to himself “Useless?” Kili looks at me with wide eyes “I meant no offence my lady” I raise my brow at him “but-” “but?” I repeat with a sharpened tone. Kili flinches, his brother snickering at the scene as more of the men take notice. “Stop digging yourself deeper laddie” one of the men calls out to him, in a thick Scottish-like accent. “I’m just voicing my concerns. A gentle maiden shouldn’t be endangering herself on a treacherous journey” I let out a voiceless laugh at the audacity looking over to Fili for answers “Apologies on my brother's behalf, he was born with his foot in his mouth you see” He says. “I can tell, he clearly hasn’t talked to many women before” I laugh. Fili lets out a hearty chortle at his brother's expense, and Kili laughs weakly in response “Very funny” he mutters. I gently pat his hand resting on my waist “Respect goes both ways mate, don’t underestimate my pretty face aye?” I mumble privately to him, his chin pretty much resting on my shoulder. I can feel him nod in response “I’ll keep that in mind lass” he whispers.

My chest tightens slightly at his husky voice in my ear. I let out a deep breath to calm myself ‘Don’t catch feelings for this short muscly man’ I think to myself. “So- why don’t you guys tell me about yourselves” I smile over at Fili. I can practically feel the grin grow on Kilis’ face “Well what do you want to know?”

The light wind begins to pick up a chill as the sun sets behind the mountains on the horizon. The sky is dyed gold and blue, and stars just begin to litter the unpolluted night. After many consecutive hours of riding, the company finally settles on a high hill with a cliff's edge that gazes out over the green valley. A little river snakes its way through the lowest point, the water was completely clear when we crossed it, uncontaminated by people and the filth we bring to the world. The vast untouched wilderness is breathtaking. “Come away from the ledge lass, you're gonna hurt yourself” The ‘dwarf’ named Bofur calls out to me from around the fire. The brothers explained earlier that the reason they were so, well, short and hairy is because they are dwarves, a completely separate race from humans. With a completely different set of cultures and beliefs, which explains why Kili was so concerned about the presence of a woman in the company. They also very smugly informed me about their families nobility statues, especially Thorins', and teased me about my colourful confrontation with him.

Wandering away from the edge I plop myself down between Bilbo and Bofur who passes me a bowl of unspecified soup, “Thank you” I nod before slurping up the hot meal with my hands. Since I wasn’t able to pack for a long journey I didn’t have as many supplies as the others, and would have to borrow them until we reach Bree, where they would have to buy me stuff, because I also have no money. ‘Eight more days’ I think ‘I’ve dealt with worse’. After eating dinner the company settles down for the night. Fili and Kili take the first watch but Balin, Gandalf and Thorin wander around awake still. The ground is uncomfortable despite being covered in squishy moss, and my thick denim jacket only shelters me slightly from the cold. I begin to drift off into a restless sleep before a screech in the distance frightens Bilbo causing him to trot over “What was that?” He asks in concern, “Orcs” Kili responds, “Orcs?” Bilbo repeats more panicked. Shuffling can be heard before Fili continues “Throat-cutters, There’ll be dozens of them out there”. “The lone-lands are crawling with them. They strike in the wee small hours when everyone’s asleep. Quick and quiet. No screams. Just lots of blood” Kill says grimly before chuckling with his brother. I lift my head and glare at him from across the camp “Don’t fear-monger him you ass” I chide him. Thorin gets up from his spot “You think that’s funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?” He asks his nephews as he passes them. Kili looks down in embarrassment “We didn’t mean anything by it” he says, “No, you didn’t. You know nothing of the world” Thorin walks away from the company. 

Balin walks over to the young princes and leans against the alcove “Don’t mind him laddie, Thorin has more reason than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient Dwarf Kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of orcs led by the most vile of all their race: Azog the Defiler. The giant Gundabad orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the king. Thrain, Thorin’s father was driven mad by grief. He went missing. Taken prisoner or killed we did not know. 

We were leaderless, defeat, and death were upon us. That is when I saw him. A young dwarf prince facing down the pale orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe. His armour rent wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back, and our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast nor song that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call king” By the time Balin was done with his long ass story the rest of the company had woken up and decided to stand, gazing out in respect at Thorin's figure. The struggle to keep my eyes open finally catches up to me as I nod off.

Master List Pt.2 - Pt.3 - Pt.4

[unbiviosicuro]

un'immagine che guardi dentro un kaiser panorama; una capsula temporale un messaggio cifrato, una sagoma nel buio, una parola detta al telefono senza fili e poi persa nel circuito; la foto sbiadita di una lapide al cimitero, una scatolina di legno chiusa a chiave, un rebus una parola nel dialetto reggiano al contrario di Santa Croce, il battito del cuore che senti solo se ti avvicini, il ticchettio dell'orologio che senti solo se ti avvicini, "il rumore delle candele" l'incisione dentro un anello l'immaginetta nel ciondolo di una collana, un lampione intermittente che inconsapevole dice in alfabeto morse; la polvere fluttuante nell'aria che c'è, ovunque, ma non si vede

[sciatu]

Devi far sedere la tua anima e farla concentrare sulla Vigna per più di trenta secondi, il tempo che ti ruba un Reel inutile su i cosiddetti “Social”. Questo perché la tua anima ha bisogno di far sedimentare quello che i sensi le fanno percepire. È un esercizio che certi monaci o esseri spirituali chiamano “meditazione” ma che è semplicemente dare valore al tuo tempo. Ecco, ad esempio, la Vigna, se tu la guardi semplicemente è un filare continuo e ripetuto di piante della vite. Questa constatazione però non è degna di te che sei, o dovresti essere, un essere vivente, un’anima pensante in un corpo recettivo. Usa gli occhi. Vedi l’azzurro del mare ed il crepuscolo che si avvicina, il cielo perdere forza e dare alle foglie delle viti un colore intenso ed intimo non quello splendente e forte che hanno durante il giorno. Vedi le nuvole, li ad occidente, arrossare ed illuminarsi sempre più intensamente, coperte dall’ondeggiare delle chiome ad ombrello degli antichi pini. Sono gli attimi che portano i ricordi ed in cui la memoria distilla il giorno preparando attori e sceneggiature per i prossimi sogni. Ora ascoltiamo il mondo. Il vento, instancabile maratoneta, sale dal mare o scende precipitoso verso di esso, facendo frusciare le foglie e portandoti la discussione paesana che le Ciaule hanno nel cielo, chiamandosi e rispondendosi fin quando il grido infinito di un Cacciavento, non le zittisce e le porta a nascondersi su rami o sui fili della luce. Aspettano composti che il rapace torni verso l’alto monte, tra gli aerei abissi da dove domina il mondo. Senti le voci della spiaggia, il vociare dei bambini, il metallico e ritmico correre di un treno, il suono della corriera, lo scoppiettio dei motorini. Il suono è parte dell’uomo, per questo le viti in silenzio, ascoltano curiose, scrivendo nei loro acini, le canzoni della gioia per quando sarà festa o per quando vi saranno dolori da combattere. La Vigna vive di santa eternità e prova ne è l’amore che dona agli uomini. Ora i profumi. Profumo di resina dei pini, intenso, liberatorio, quasi una medicina miracolosa. L’odore del vento, odore umido del mare, odore secco del monte, fatto di cardi arsi e di ulivi eterni. Odori caldi d’estate ed odori secchi e taglienti d’inverno che la vigna percepisce e di cui nutre i suoi grappoli, custodendo il sapore della terra nel loro sangue e trasformandolo con il sole in zucchero ed ebrezza perché la Vigna è la magia della natura, il cantastorie delle stagioni. I suoi filari si allungano a vivere nel sole, le sue radici raccolgono l’anima della terra. Per questo la Vigna è come una donna che dona ebrezza, che ci rivela la bellezza e l’essenza della natura: il mutare, il divenire, l’essere. Perché la vigna è una bambina a cui devi dare attenzione, cura, la protezione di un padre, l’amore di una madre. Ogni giorno chiede la tua presenza, ogni notte sogna le tue carezze. Il tuo passo tra quelle zolle grosse e secche, è quello che aveva tuo padre, e tutti padri che ci sono stati prima di lui. Sono i passi del tempo, che va e torna, che viene a potare, ad aggiustare tralci e pali, a raccogliere per creare. Ecco, ora puoi andare a rincorrere Reel e relazionarti con le frasi di un bambino non più lunghe di uno sguardo. Non ti ho fatto perdere tempo, ti mostrato quello che la tua anima non sa dirti.

You have to make your soul sit and focus on the Vineyard for more than thirty seconds, the time that a useless Reel on so-called "Social Media" steals from you. This is because your soul needs to settle what its senses perceive. It is an exercise that certain monks or spiritual beings call "meditation" but which is simply giving value to your time. Here, for example, is the Vineyard, if you look at it simply it is a continuous and repeated row of vine plants. However, this observation is not worthy of you who are, or should be, a living being, a thinking soul in a receptive body. Use your eyes. You see the blue of the sea and the approaching twilight, the sky lose strength and give the leaves of the vines an intense and intimate color, not the bright and strong one they have during the day. You see the clouds, there in the west, reddening and lighting up more and more intensely, covered by the swaying umbrella-shaped crowns of the ancient pine trees. They are the moments that bring memories and in which memory distills the day, preparing actors and scripts for future dreams. Now let's listen to the world. The wind, a tireless marathon runner, rises from the sea or descends hastily towards it, rustling the leaves and bringing you the village discussion that the Ciaule have in the sky, calling and answering each other until the infinite cry of a Cacciavento silences them and brings them to hide on branches or on electricity wires. They wait calmly for the bird of prey to return to the high mountains, among the airy abysses from where it dominates the world. You hear the voices of the beach, the shouting of children, the metallic and rhythmic running of a train, the sound of the bus, the crackling of motorbikes. Sound is part of man, for this reason the vines listen curiously in silence, writing in their grapes the songs of joy for when there will be a celebration or for when there will be pain to fight. The Vineyard lives in holy eternity and proof of this is the love that it gives to men. Now the perfumes. Scent of pine resin, intense, liberating, almost a miracle medicine. The smell of the wind, the humid smell of the sea, the dry smell of the mountain, made of burnt thistles and eternal olive trees. Warm smells in summer and dry, sharp smells in winter that the vineyard perceives and nourishes its bunches of, keeping the flavor of the earth in their blood and transforming it with the sun into sugar and exhilaration because the Vineyard is the magic of nature , the storyteller of the seasons. Its rows stretch out to live in the sun, its roots collect the soul of the earth. For this reason the Vineyard is like a woman who gives exhilaration, who reveals to us the beauty and essence of nature: changing, becoming, being. Because the vineyard is a little girl to whom you must give attention, care, the protection of a father, the love of a mother. Every day she asks for your presence, every night she dreams of your caresses. Your step among those large, dry clods is the one your father had, and all the fathers who were there before him. They are the steps of time, which comes and goes, which comes to prune, to adjust branches and poles, to collect to create. Here, now you can go chasing Reel and relate to a child's sentences no longer than a glance. I didn't waste your time, I showed you what your soul can't tell you.

[litcest]

Incest and the Medieval Imagination, by Elizabeth Archibald: Chapter 4: Fathers and Daughters: Variations of the Flight From the Incest

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 Part 1 | Chapter 3 Part 2 | Chapter 3 Part 3 | Chapter 4 Part 1 | Chapter 4 Part 3 | Chapter 5 Part 1 | Chapter 5 Part 2 | Conclusion

The many analogues of the Flight from Incest story can be analysed by which aspect each story variates from the majority of the tales. There are four major areas of variation: the first is the way that the father's desire is presented and how his court reacts to it; the second is the circumstances of the heroine's departure and possible the mutilation; the third is regarding the fate of the father, and lastly, the tone of the ending and it's moralization.

The works discussed in this part are: Vita Sanctae Dympnae (1240); Vitae Duorum Offarum (1250); Mai und Beaflor (1260); La Makekine (1270); Yde et Olive (13th Century); La Belle Hélène de Constantinople (13th Century); Der König von Reussen (13th Century); Le Roman du Comte d’Anjou (1313); Ystoria Regis Franchorum et Filie in qua Adulterium Comitere Voluit (1370); Le Miracle de la fille du roy de Hongrie (1371); Lion de Bourges (14th Century); La Istoria de la Fiyla del Rey d’Ungria (14th Century); Novella della Figlia del Re di Dacia (14th Century); Emaré (1400); El Victorial (1400); Die Königstochter von Frankreich (1401); De origine inter Gallos et Britannos belli historia (1444); Rappresentazione di Santa Uliva (1568); Comedia sine nomine (15th Century); Alixandre, Roy de Hongrie, qui voulut espouser sa fille (15th Century) and La Istoria de la Filla de l’Emperador Contasti (15th Century).

Variation of the Flight from Incest Theme

The father's desire for his daughter can be presented in many ways, some in which make him more guilty and some in which his behaviour is almost justified. It's common for the father to have promised his dying wife not to marry again unless he finds a woman who is as beautiful as her; this promise initially makes it as so he can't marry again and must stay celibate, but when the daughter grows up, she offers a possibility for a way out.

In La Manekine, the court is the one to notice that Joie looks like her mother and pushes the father to marry her, not wanting the king to stay without a wife. There's an inicial resistance of the king's part, but he embraces the idea when he notices how beautiful Joie is. The same scenario happens in Lion de Bourges, but this time the father eagerly accepts the idea to marry his daughter. In Der König von Reussen the suggestion comes from the barons due the need for a male heir, but there is no promise here to the dying queen.

In La Filla de l’Emperador Contasti the dying wife adds the condition that the new wife must be able to fit in her gloves (this detail is also shared by other stories within the flight of the incest group). Once again, it's the court that notices that the daughter satisfies the conditions and the emperor does accepts the suggestion without much thought. La Filla is noteworthy due to the fact that the daughter initially accepts the marriage, under the condition that there will be no intercourse despite them being formally wed. When the father changes his mind and decides to consummate the marriage, the daughter refuses and it's then that he orders her execution, after which the story resumes the normal course.

In Comedia sine nomine, one of the daughter's nurse mentions that she looks like her own mother. He tries but fails to resist the attraction and when he gives in, he justifies it by saying that it was out of necessity, since he made a promise and cannot marry again unless the new wife looks like the dead one, and compares himself to the early Biblical patriarchs, who married their relatives due to a lack of option. In Yde et Olive the barons are horrified when the king announces that he'll marry his daughter, but the announcement only comes after the barons pressure him to find a new wife. In La Belle Hélène de Constantinople, Roman du Comte d’Anjou and Figlia del Re di Dacia, the incestuous attraction is said to the due to the devil's influence.

Some versions have the father banishing the daughter after she rejects him, and some have the daughter running away of her own volition. The mutilation of hands is common to happen before the flight, but can happen later, after the false accusation, such as in La Belle Hélène. Some times, like in La Manekine, Lion de Bourges, Istoria del Rey d’Ungria, Alixandre, El Victorial and Uliva the mutilation is done by the daughter, with, in the last four, it being done because the father loved the girl's hands and has kissed them. In La Figlia del Re di Dacia, which his the only version of the bunch to have sexual contact between the father and daughter, the daughter cuts off the hand with which her father had forced her to touch his genitals. In Der König von Reussen, instead of her hands, the daughter cuts her hair, making it so she no longer resembles her mother.

The restauration of the hand is usually done by divine intervention, through the Pope, a Saint or the Virgen. Usually the healing occurs later in the story, along side the reunion, but in El Victorial and Uliva, it happens right after the daughter is exposed and in La Figlia, it happens as the daughter is about to get married.

There has been proposed many interpretations as to why the removal of the hands, with author like Otto Rank arguing that it represents the punishment of a suppressed incestuous desire of the daughter's part, and that removing the hands is a punishment for masturbation. Thelma Fenster proposes that it's a substitute for castration. It may also symbolise the physical violation of the daughter, especially in the versions in which the father is the one to mutilate her.

Regarding the fate of the father, he sometimes disappears from the narrative after the flight, such as in Ystoria Regis Franchorum and Vitae Duorum Offarum (in this second one, he does forges a letter incriminating the daughter, but he doesn't actually shows up). Other times, he dies after the daughter's flight, such as Le Comte d’Anjou and Yde et Olive. But the must frequent occurrence is the repentance of the father and his reunification with the daughter.

As for the ending, they always have a happy one, with the daughter finding her husband again. Sometimes, it's the child of the couple who brings them back together, other times, it's the husband who recognizes the wife, but, more often, the daughter is the one who recognizes her family and bring them back together. While the story usually features a religious figure and is set in a Christian society, it's usually a secular romance about family life and the misfortunes of the protagonist, instead of being explicitly a text of Christian moralization (the exception is the Vita Sanctae Dympnae and Santa Uliva, which are hagiographies). Some of these histories are also part in larger narratives or legendary cycles, but the context that they are inserted is beyond the escope of this project.

[anchesetuttinoino]

Joe Biden, discorso dopo la vittoria di Donald Trump.

Era da tempo che non lo si vedeva così lucido, in perfetta forma e di buon umore.

I casi sono tre:

- o gli han detto che ha vinto Kamala Harris,

- oppure non ne poteva più di esami del sangue, delle urine e tac al cervello tutti i giorni prima di colazione

- oppure anche i burattini di legno ogni tanto non vedono l'ora di staccarsi dai fili, sottrarsi agli insulti e andarsene a pigliare il sole in santa pace su una spiaggia della Florida.

Segui ➡️ 🌐  t.me/ArsenaleKappa 🅰️ 💥💥

ㅤ

[elperegrinodedios]

Il mio dolore più grande, è quello che dopo aver studiato per 25 anni le scritture conosciuto tutta la storia di questo popolo fino dalle origini, dopo aver calpestato questa terra e dopo aver visitato questi luoghi durante i miei tre cammini in Terra Santa da Nazareth, Gerusalemme, Betlemme le terre dove è nato, vissuto, testimoniato e morto Gesù, ancora oggi si sparge sangue d'innocenti. E questo purtroppo, non finirà mai fino alla fine dei tempi. Religione certo, ma anche dittatura e bramosia, egoismo, ricchezza e vanità. Pensare che ormai quasi tutta la Palestina è musulmana e cosi è insieme agli ebrei per Israele. Io lo so, io l'ho visto con i miei occhi e ho toccato con mani che ormai i cristiani rimasti, sono soltanto i frati che gestiscono i luoghi sacri o parte di essi cosi come la Basilica del Santo Sepolcro.

Tra una bomba ed un'altra, un'attentato e l'altro, tra una strage di innocenti ed un'altra, alla fine rimane sempre il fatto che, un solo popolo, con lo stesso sangue, combatte contro i suoi fratelli.

No, non è soltanto una disputa e una guerra tra Israele e Palestina bensì, una situazione che di fatto coinvolge l'intera umanità ed il silenzio o il non prendere posizione in merito, ci rende tutti complici. Da parte mia l'uomo, cosi come fa fin dal principio (Caino con Abele) potrebbe anche continuare ad uccidersi l'un l'altro tanto è la sua natura, ma che a pagarne le spese e a versare il sangue siano bambini innocenti e le loro madri, questo no, questo è l'abominio che toccherà la pupilla di Dio che a suo tempo farà giustizia. 💧

Queste sono due foto che scattai durante il mio ultimo cammino in Terra Santa. Basta quella in alto, per capire quanto loro stessi sappiano che stanno combattendo una guerra fratricida. Una guerra non religiosa dicono loro, ma politica nel nome d'una propria indipendenza e di una reale autonomia. Due muli che vogliono andare per la loro via in direzioni diverse ma che non possono perchè legati dalla loro stessa natura e origine e dallo stesso sangue. Questa foto del murales, si trova sulla parete di un edificio, diviso in due dal muro di confine dalla parte di Gerusalemme e in pratica divide Israele e Palestina. Tale murales è stato di grande impatto su di me. Mentre l'altro in basso invece si trova (come si può vedere) sul muro stesso alto sette metri che segna proprio il confine tra Betlemme e Gerusalemme che dista nove km. Il leone che divora la colomba e siamo sempre all'interno della Palestina. Un anziano di quei luoghi mi raccontò che il muro al momento della costruzione, non ha avuto nessun riguardo e ha di fatto separato intere famiglie che si sono ritrovate già dal giorno dopo, ad essere cittadini palestinesi se erano nativi israeliani e, viceversa.

Uno scempio!!! Come possiamo girarci dall'altra parte? Come può questo mondo infame restare a guardare, senza almeno restarne indignato?!?!

Si spacciano dittature per democrazie contando sull'ignoranza e, sul menefreghismo del popolo, basti vedere chi tiene e tira i fili in queste guerre più conosciute, come Israele e Palestina, Russia e Ucraina o anche nel Congo. Noi non possiamo fare nulla, ma sappiamo scrivere e spargere foto e lamenti e preghiere e lacrime di condanna e di orrore. Abbiamo potere, lasciamo le cose futili e condividiamo le sofferenze ed il dolore, di quelle madri e di quelle povere anime innocenti, che la sola colpa che hanno è quella di essere nati. 💔

lan ✍️🙏

[mx-heinous]

Kabanata 5: Live-Posting

So I actually needed to reread this and chapter 6 recently for a project

I was so confused why the translation said "Santa Claus" and I couldn't believe it, so I looked at my friend's El Fili book (I lost mine) and that said, "Saint Noel"

??? Where did Santa Claus come from ???

Tbh, I'd have the same reaction as Basilio here if I heard somebody ask me if the King of the Indios was free

The thing is, since the book takes place in the late 19th century, then the Philippines would've gotten independence from Spain around the same time, about a few years later, so technically, they weren't wrong with King Bernardo

For some reason, I had a hard time understanding any of this when I read it in Tagalog

The image of a horse suddenly gaining an ego after being blessed, then dying anyway is so fucking funny

Oh wow, the curate's not there because he's pissy? Who would've guessed

Also, we see the curate later at Kapitan Basilio's house. A thing I've noticed is that the friars have a tendency to party instead of actually doing their jobs

Tbh, I kinda relate to each year getting crappier with less and less holiday cheer

Also, Rizal really likes making the characters suffer during Christmas season

Ok, arresting a person for a road violation is somewhat reasonable, but putting them in a newspaper? Really?

"This was San Diego, his native town, where he had not a single relative." Aaaaaand this just made me sad. My son LITERALLY DID NOTHING WRONG

SINANG!!! I'm so glad she at least showed up in El Fili

Ew, the alperes. Ngl, I was hoping he'd die with his wife

Edit: I just realized that this alperes and the Noli alperes are two different people

Those fucking blue goggles, not even glasses, they're goggles

The curate really has no fucking shame, huh?

I was wondering the other day what he would need first class lady's earrings for, but there's an obvious answer here: The curate is a secret drag queen /j

Irene gossips about Simoun behind his back, lol what a bitch

Be nice, Basilio

....You want autopsies to have diseases?

Aaaand the news hits, yikes

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @i-am-still-bb​ based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Gen.

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

Deck the Halls

—

December 1st

Kili opened the cardboard box that he had brought down from the attic days before. It was dented and soft around the corners, and there was a water stain from some long ago roof leak. He had dragged the ornaments down after he put the tree in its stand. He had intended to start decorating the tree. But then he just… hadn’t.  He had gone to the tree farm and cut down the tree on his own, brought it home, and gotten it into the stand and it was more or less straight. That was enough. And it felt like it might be enough for the whole holiday season.

He pushed the box into the corner and turned on the television to watch a hockey match. He did not like hockey, but every other channel was playing Christmas movies, talking about Christmas, or airing the news. And he wanted to avoid all of those things. Right now he did not want to watch parades, see men be tricked into becoming Santa Claus, watch fathers run all over town trying to find the toy their child wants for Christmas, or the chaos of a family Christmas complete with a kidnapping and a house fire. 

Fili and he had always watched those movies together—Jingle All the Way, The Santa Clause, Christmas with the Kranks, Home Alone 4, Merry Christmas Charlie Brown, others, and the whole plethora of animated Christmas cartoons from their childhoods.

They had spent the holiday season apart before. School, work, illness—all got in the way at one time or the other. So sometimes Kili put up the tree and FaceTimed Fili while he decorated it. Other times they would watch movies on their laptops, clicking start at the same time. But they always saw each other at some point even if it was just for a day. But since they had completed college, grad school, and internships they had spent each Christmas season together for nearly a decade.

Not this year. And probably not next year if the news of the expedition was correct. 

Fili had taken a job as a Navigator on the HMS Dauntless. It was a tremendous honor to be chosen, but it still took Fili away and into the stars. Fili was going to spend Christmas on a different planet looking at different stars. He wouldn’t have a Christmas tree with colored lights and baubles flashing in a darkened room. There would be no light displays in the city center to look at with peppermint hot chocolate in hand. Instead Fili would have twinkling stars and maybe lights from a distant, alien city peeking through cloud cover. And Kili had his job on Earth. He had all of things things available to him. But he had not bought a single peppermint hot chocolate or gandered at the light displays. 

—

“You brought what?” Fili asked incredulously.

“Baubles,” Matt said, grunting as he pulled a large tote out of the storage closet. “Tinsel, some fake garlands, lights.”

“On a space mission? Where we could very well be fired on at any given moment given how the negotiations are going.”

Matt shrugged. “And that’s a reason not to celebrate Christmas, why?”

“It’s not…” Fili faltered. “I just was not expecting it, was all.”

“And that’s part of the point,” Matt said. “No one is expecting it, so it will be a good surprise. And we need some good surprises rather than just all the bad ones that we’ve been getting so far on this voyage.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“I even had some honeyed hams put in the deep freeze.”

“Did you think about presents?”

“I did,” Matt admitted. “It’ll have to be crafts something”

“I have exactly one crafty skill, and only one. Mapmaking,” Fili held up his hands, “Not really a jumper or a scarf.”

“Well, make a map then.”

Fili grunted. “Who’s going to be doing the decorating?”

“That would be you,” Matt pushed an unlabeled, but heavy box into Fili’s arms. “Merry Christmas.”

Fili strung up silver and gold garlands over the doors into the common areas and around the windows in the navigation cabin. The captain saw him and rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Then there were the baubles in blue, silver, and gold, and the warm white twinkling lights. The refectory, the navigation cabin, and the recreation lounges were certainly more festive than before, but still sterile in the way that spaceships always were. Despite the definite cheerful bend  it felt off for Fili. He had grown up with trees covered in eclectic ornaments; some were antiques, some were preschool crafts, some were hand made gifts, and some were mass produced spheres. Those were all hung on a tree that they had cut down themselves. Kili’s family had always used a fake tree, but once he moved in with Fili he had been initiated in the tradition of wandering a field and cutting down your own Christmas tree.

Fili had brought other traditions with him into the house that he shared with Kili. There was gold tinsel, multicolored lights, and a Moravian star on the top of their tree. Kili had brought origami snowflakes, stars, spheres, and his love for bells of all sorts. 

Tubs now empty of decorations were now stored away and now released from duty Fili was reading over some navigation reports in the largest of the recreational lounges. The reports could have waited until tomorrow, but the appearance of the Christmas decorations had made him a bit melancholy. He had been excited to take this job, but he had simultaneously dreaded it. To spend almost 2 years aboard the Dauntless, but very possibly more, was a dream job, the very job that he had been working for most of his career working on navigation systems. But it also meant nearly 2 years away from his friends and family.

And Kili.

Fili shook his head and refocused on the reports, but his thoughts started to drift almost immediately.

A few of the younger crew members were seated around a television and they had selected a show to watch. The telltale introduction for Rudolf started with the introduction by the snowman. 

Kili knew all of the songs. They had sung them together on more than one occasion.

Fili ended up watching the program from his spot at the table, reports completely forgotten. He wondered if Kili would watch any of the movies on his own.

—

December 7th

Kili had put decorations on the tree, but it was minimal; tinsel, lights, and the most meaningful ornaments—the one commemorating their first house together, baby ornaments, a felt bell decorated with puff pant and a photograph of Fili as a toddler with red cheeks and a cowlick  in the center.

Snow had fallen the night before, and Kili could not yet be bothered to dig himself out. 

So he set a photograph of Fili and him standing in front of a Christmas lights display on the coffee table, made himself a hot chocolate with marshmallows and whipped cream, and settled in to watch one of their favorite Christmas movies. 

—

December 10th

The alarm set for 7:50 pm always startled Fili when it sounded at the same time on every second Saturday. He expected and looked forward to this alarm with its chiming bells, but it always caught him off guard. His turn in the Communications room started at 8pm. He was always waiting at the door so he could use all of the time that was allotted to him. 

—

Kili’s phone sat fully charged, screen facing up, on the coffee table. He sat anxiously on the edge of the brown leather couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the tiny black screen. He tapped the glass to wake up the display. It was still fully charged. There was still a full signal.

And it was only 7:58 pm.

The screen turned dark and Kili tapped the glass again.

7:59 pm.

Then 8:00 pm. 

The phone never rang immediately no matter how much Kili willed it to. He knew Fili had to sign in with the attendant, find a terminal, sign in to the computer, and then dial Kili’s number. Tasks that ate up precious seconds and delayed their only means of direct communication.

They could also send emails back and forth. They took advantage of that, but the emails usually consisted of a list of things they did that day and that they missed each other. Kili looked forward to those emails, sometimes refreshing his Inbox every few seconds for hours waiting for the next missive to appear. But emails were not the same as video chatting.

And video chatting was a far cry from seeing each other in person. But it was the best they were going to have for… a while. Kili had an app on his phone counting down to the Dauntless’ anticipated return date. And for now he never looked at it. The number was far too large. 

Then Kili’s phone rang.

Fili’s face filled the screen with a large green button that Kili swiped to answer the call. The photograph shifted from one of Fili smiling in their kitchen to him sitting in the Comm room with large black headphones covering his ears and a microphone extending from one earpiece.

“Hi!” 

“Hi yourself,” Fili replied with a smile. “You are not going to believe or be able to guess what I did this week!”

“Discover a new planet? A race of aliens? Fixed a broken Nav-1500-K12 system yourself?”

“See, those are all things that would make sense given that I’m on a Space Cruiser with the specific mission of locating new planets and I am employed as a Navigations Specialist.”

“Umm…” Kili searched for less plausible activities, but he was distracted by Fili’s voice and face. He could have sworn that Fili looked different in each call, but Kili could never pinpoint exactly what was different. “Used a pogo stick in zero gravity?”

Fili laughed, “Now that would be a challenge.”

“I give up,” Kili grinned back.

“I put up Christmas decorations,” Fili said proudly.

Kili frowned, sure that he had misheard, “What?”

“Christmas decorations,” Fili repeated, “Let me see if I can…” Fili reached forward, fidgeting with the camera to change the direction it was facing.

Kili squinted, nose almost touching the small glass rectangle in, and tried to make out what Fili was trying to show him.

“See? There? Over the door?” Fili said, holding the camera up trying to give Kili a better view.

“I think so?”

“It’s not much. No trees or anything, though, now that I think about it, I am a bit surprised that Matt didn’t bring any of those on board. He had me hanging faux greenery garlands, lights, tinsel, and baubles. He also has a whole bunch of wrapping paper, tape, ribbons and such for presents.” Fill returned the camera to its stand and sat back. 

“Are you going to be giving each other astronaut ice cream or other dried food stuff?”

“I don’t really know. It’s not like any of us can run out to the mall to buy something, or hop on the internet and have it show up on our doorstep within twenty-four hours. He did say something about crafting, but,” Fili shrugged. “You know how I am with crafting.”

“You’re just comparing yourself to Bilbo. And he’s practically a wizard.”

“I guess,” Fili said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Enough about life on a floating metal tube. What did you do this week.”

Kili sat back into the couch cushions. The light emitting from the woodburning stove flickered. “It snowed.”

“Oh? You know, I never thought I’d say it, but I actually miss the snow and cold. The ship is cold, especially in the hallways and lesser used rooms, but it’s cold without a purpose other than conserving fuel. Cold that brings snow? At least there’s an upside.”

“Are you sure you miss snow? Maybe you can take over shoveling when you get back. It took me hours to clear the driveway the other day. I did just leave it for a while. And then it snowed more, and I’m still not sure if waiting was a good thing or not because of that. I only had to shovel once instead of twice, but there was more to shovel in one go.” Kili ran a hand through his long hair.

“I’ll shovel all the snow you want me too when I get home,” Fili replied.

“Good.”

“As long as you make me that hot chocolate of yours.”

“I can, but it’s not that hard. I even taped the recipe card to the top of the cocoa tin.”

“It’s never right when I’m the one making it.”

“I’ve watched you make it. It’s correct.”

“Must be the love that you add.”

Kili stuck out his tongue to cover up his pleasure at Fili’s words. “Oh! I also saw an elk when I took a short hike before clearing the snow.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a reindeer? It is the season.”

“It’s Colorado, not Sweden or Canada.”

“Did it have a red nose?”

“No,” Kili said. He leaned back on the couch, slouching deep into the cushions. “I miss you.”

Fili’s expression softened. “I miss you, too.”

“It… it doesn’t feel like Christmas without you here.”

“Are you going to put up any decorations?”

“I did put up some,” Kili shrugged despondently. 

“Show me?”

Kili held his phone up and turned it so Fili could see the green tree standing in the corner of the room with its garland, lights, and ornaments. 

“Looks good, Kee.”

Kili turned the camera back around. “Eh,” he shrugged. “I didn’t put on all the baubles. And most of the boxes are still in the attic.”

“You don’t have anyone ordering you to decorate. Do what you want. You don’t have to put up any decorations.”

“I know.”

“I’m glad you did though. I miss you and I miss doing the holiday activities with you, but I’d hate for you to just not do any of them because you enjoy those things as well.”

Kili nodded, but did not respond right away. “I watched The Santa Clause yesterday.”

“You did?” Fili leaned forward on his elbows, braids swinging over his shoulders. 

“Yeah. I made hot chocolate and had some Christmas cookies that Bilbo had dropped off.”

“Jealous!”

Kili smiled a little. “I put on your Christmas jumper.”

“The jumper with the hole in the elbow?”

“That’s the one. And I had that ridiculous blanket you bought. That one with the ghosts wearing Santa hats and wrapped in Christmas lights over my lap.”

“It’s not ridiculous. It’s wonderful!”

“It was warm.”

“I didn’t think to pack one of your shirts,” Fili said a bit sadly.

“The jumper didn’t smell like you if that makes a difference?” Kili offered. “It smelled of laundry detergent and that stuff we always put in with the sweaters so they don’t smell all funky when we get them out of storage.”

“The herb sachets.”

“Yes. Those. Though I think the one in the bit needs to be replaced before next year.”

“I’ll send you the instructions whenever you need them.”

—

December 23

“Would you look at that?” Matt’s voice was full of awe and wonder. 

He was talking about the planet that they had been approaching for nearly a week and now it was below them and the ship was orbiting the planet that had the familiar, blue, green, and brown of earth, but also some unexpected colors like pink and coral. 

“There should be another moon,” Fili said looking from the planet back to his charts. 

“It’ll show up,” someone said.

“Or it won’t,” someone else quipped. 

As the line between daylight and darkness moved across the planet below lights started to flick on. There were clusters, but they were not near the oceans, like they would be on earth, and they were not connected by slender threads of highways.

“So which navigator gets to go on the cruiser to land on the surface?” Aaron, one of the other Navigators, asked.

The captain opened his mouth to answer the questions, but before he could speak another Navigator spoke up. “It should go by seniority.”

“You would suggest that, Zach,” Fili said. “Since you are the most senior member of the navigation crew.”

“And the most experienced,” Zach replied. “I have done this sort of thing before, and experience is invaluable in situations like this.”

“But the people are responding well to our communications,” Alexandra, the youngest Navigator said, “Do you really think that there’ll be trouble?”

“No,” the captain said quickly.

“But there’s always a chance,” Zach added. 

“It would be a great learning experience…” she said wistfully. Alexandra had not finished her college degree before taking the job. She had accepted her position on the ship and her university pressured her professors into grading her work and awarding her degree in the middle of a semester. “Maybe I should join whoever goes, to help with any instruments and such.”

“We should draw lots,” Aaron said. “That’s the only fair way to do it.”

“Like drawing pieces of paper from a hat?” Alexandra asked.

“It will be Fili,” the captain said, interrupting the conversation about how people should draw lots, which methods were easier, and which ones were statistically more fair. 

“That’s not fair,” Zach protested.

“But it is what I have decided,” the captain said firmly, giving Zach and any other Navigators who looked like they might protest a dark look  from beneath bushy grey eyebrows. “Alexandra.”

“Yes, captain?”

“You may accompany us.”

“Thank you, sir! I won’t let you down!” she gushed. 

“Both of you will be ready to depart at 1100 hours.”

“Yes, captain,” Fili and Alexandra said in unison.

Fili went back to his charts and calculations and tried to ignore the jealous glares that his crewmates were shooting him.

—

December 24

“You did what?!” Kili’s eyes went wide as he listened to Fili.

“The captain picked me to join him on the trip down to the surface,” Fili repeated, eyes bright and practically glowing in the dim light of the Comms room. “You should have been there, Kili,” he said dreamily. “It was something else. There were mountains unlike any that I have ever seen before. And we were received in a building that reminded me of that trip we took to Europe when we saw all of those cathedrals. Except this one had nothing to do with any sort of religion. It was just a standard building.”

“That sounds like it would be a bit weird.”

“It was,” Fili admitted. “Every building that we saw was ornately decorated.”

“Did the meeting at least go well? Or is that classified and I’ll find out the public version of events on the news in a week or so?”

Fili’s brows furrowed. “I think it went well, but, to be honest, I was not really paying attention to any sort of negotiations. My job stopped the second we got out of the cruiser pod and started when we got back in. I was mostly looking at the people and the architecture.”

Kili settled back into the armchair with the holiday ghost blanket pulled up to his chin, “What were the people like?”

“For the most part they looked like us, actually,” Fili said. “Which was not what I was expecting.”

“For the most part?”

“They had pointed ears, Kee, like Spock.”

Kili’s fingers went to his ears where he pinched the top to create a Spock-like crease. “Interesting.”

“But I want to hear about your day,” Fili said.

“Yours was much more exciting than mine,” Kili adjusted the blanket. “I went over to Bilbo’s for Christmas Eve dinner. He made ham. I took rolls like we always do.”

Fili nodded and listened as Kili told him about the holiday gathering and how the younger generation had started a game of Spoons that had ended when someone nearly got a concussion after being pushed into a wall but after someone had needed to use a first aid kit to treat a bleeding finger.

Fili leaned forward, his chin resting in his palm, “Did you play?”

“No!” Kili said emphatically. “But it is weird not being one of the kids, you know? I’m one of the grown ups now. Not that we’ve been kids or sat at the kids table in a longtime. It just felt more obvious this year. Bilbo managed to foist off planning the New Years’ planning on to Ori, Gimli, and I. I did warn him that he should expect to have just bags of chips and maybe some dip.”

“What did he say to that?” 

“Uh,” Kili looked at the ceiling for a moment. “He laughed and then said, ‘Kili, my boy, you’re all in your 30s. I’m sure you can manage a sandwich platter from a deli at the very least.”

“And did that end up falling on you?”

“I put “ordering a sandwich platter” in my planner for Monday. Gimli can manage napkins, maybe.”

“And hopefully this year they won’t be wet and say Starbucks on them,” Fili laughed. 

“Hopefully,” Kili echoed. 

“So are you ready for tomorrow?” Fili asked.

“No,” Kili said.

“What are you planning to do?”

“I’ll probably sleep in since I plan to stay up late tonight watching whatever movies they decided to air on the TV. I ended up watching Last Christmas the other night on some such channel and it was decent. So I’m going to give some of those ridiculous holiday made-for-tv romcoms a chance on the off chance that they’re decent.”

“Sounds good. I think someone is hosting a Christmas movie marathon in one of the common lounges tonight.”

“You should go.”

“I’ll think about it,” Fili said with a shrug. “So you’ll be sleeping in because you’ll be up late tonight; what about tomorrow?”

Kili lifted his shoulders noncommittally and scootched lower into the corner of the arm chair. “Probably sleep late, like you said, maybe go on a run if it’s not too cold.”

“Heathen.”

“I know,” Kili replied before continuing. “Then probably some leftovers for lunch and dinner, read some, light a fire.” Kili shrugged again. “There’s not much going on tomorrow. All the group plans have already taken place and they avoided the day of Christmas to avoid conflicting with family plans. You?”

“I actually drew the short straw and I have to work most of tomorrow.”

Kili pulled a face, “Gross.”

“I know.”

“Hey, we’re almost out of time.”

“Already?” Kili whined and pulled the blanket up over his chin.

“And I have one final thing to tell you.”

“What?”

“After we hang up I want you to go look in my underwear drawer.”

“What will I be looking for? Holiday underwear? Boxers that say ‘Unwrap me?’”

“No,” Fili laughed. “No boxers saying that. Though maybe I’ll have to find some when I get home. No, you’ll know it when you see it.”

“Okay…” Kili said skeptically.

“Love you, Kee.”

“Love you, too.”

“Merry Christmas.”

The connection was lost before Kili could reply. He sighed and dropped his head back, his hand holding the phone dropping into his lap. Then he put his phone down and pushed the blanket to the floor. 

The wood-burning stove kept the cottage fairly warm when someone was home all day to tend it, but the floors where air from the drafty doors was still cold on Kili’s feet. He pushed open the bedroom door and flipped the lightswitch which lit a couple of lamps that were positioned throughout the room. “What did you hide in with your underwear, Fili Durin?” Kili asked the empty room. 

Fili’s drawer squeaked from long disuse when Kili opened it. All he saw at first were rows of Fili’s neatly folded white underwear. Kili pulled the drawer out a little further and caught sight of a glittery red ribbon. He fished the object out of the back corner of the drawer. It was a small package, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a red ribbon. The label said “To K, from F.” And there was a card tucked under the ribbon.

Open Me First 

Kili flopped down on their bed, leaving the drawer open. He squirmed a little on the bed currently decked out in the gray linen duvet cover that was too warm to use during the summer, and some flannel sheets with a holiday themed fuzzy blanket thrown over one corner to get comfortable. 

He set the wrapped package to one side. He ran his fingers over the slightly rough duvet cover absentmindedly while he stared at the envelope considering his options and savoring the anticipation. Kili flipped the envelope over, stuck his finger beneath the flap and tore the envelope to reveal a Christmas card with a standard scene of a snowy forest and a trite greeting on the front.

Kili opened the card.

Dear Kili,

I’m sorry that I’m not home for Christmas this year. I want you to know that I love you and I miss you, and I will be thinking about you all day. I did not want you to feel lonely this year, so I planned a surprise for you, but you don’t get to find out until Christmas morning! (Or you could find out now, I can’t enforce rules from 3,000,000 miles away.)

Love you and can’t wait to see you again soon!

Yours,

Fili

P.S. Have one of those wonderful hot chocolates of yours for me, please!

Kili considered the instructions for a few moments before taking the package in hand and returning to the living room with the wood burning fireplace and the Christmas tree. Kili carefully set the package down on the plaid tree skirt.

He straightened and considered the present for a moment. Then he picked up the blanket from the floor, folded it, and went into the kitchen to make the hot chocolate that he was supposed to drink for Fili. Once it was ready and loaded with whipped cream and chocolate shavings he returned to the living room, settled in on the couch, feet outstretched towards the stove, and turned on the television. He flipped through the stations until he found something worth watching. 

—

Fili had gone to bed after ending his call with Kili. His bunk mate had lit a peppermint scented candle, and it felt a little festive. But if Fili had been on duty on the main navigation deck he would have seen the shadow of a sleigh drawn by reindeer pass in front of the double moons of the planet they were orbiting. 

—

Kili drank the hot chocolate and watched the predictable foibles and shenanigans of the main characters. But he did not see how it ended. By the time that the happy ending had rolled around Kili was asleep, head lolled to the side, and warm beneath the blanket.

Outside his window the moon was shining bright and the world was light in the blue light of reflected moonlight. And then, across the moon, a silhouette briefly appeared of a sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

[joseandrestabarnia]

Maestro della sala capitolare di Pomposa La Crocifissione intorno al 1320 Tempera e oro su tavola. 29 x 20,5 cm Museo Nazionale Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid INV. 260 (1930.23) Il Maestro della Sala Capitolare di Pomposa prende il nome dall'insieme di affreschi che decorano la sala capitolare dell'Abbazia benedettina di Pomposa, edificio nei pressi della città di Ferrara. All'anonima personalità di questo pittore, Miklós Boskovits collega, tra le altre opere, oltre a questa tavola del Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, una Vergine col Bambino appartenente al Metropolitan Museum of Art di New York e due dipinti del Museo del Louvre .

Questa tavola era nella collezione Thyssen-Bornemisza nel 1930, data in cui partecipò alla grande mostra di Monaco, tenutasi presso la Neue Pinakothek, dove questa importante collezione privata fu fatta conoscere al pubblico. Il dipinto fu quindi assegnato all'ambito di Giotto, attribuzione che Wilhelm Suida aveva proposto analizzando l'opera. Nei cataloghi successivi venne collegato ad un anonimo artista fiorentino, del 1350 circa, figurando come tale fino al 1989, quando Caroline de Watteville lo pubblicò nella guida alle opere esposte a Villa Favorita come opera del Maestro della sala capitolare di Pomposa.

L'artista, nonostante le ridotte dimensioni della tavola, organizza la sua composizione con numerose figure che distribuisce in due gruppi ai due lati della croce. Cristo al centro, morto e coperto da un generoso drappo di purezza, poggia i piedi su un grande piedistallo. Una scia di sangue corre lungo la base della croce per terminare sul teschio di Adamo. Nella crocifissione sono compresi quattro angioletti: uno, afflitto, prega mentre gli altri tre sono intenti a raccogliere in recipienti il ​​sangue che sgorga dalle ferite del Redentore; sangue che, nel caso di ferite sulle mani, gocciola formando sottili fili, ma nella piaga del costato scorre con forza. Su un arido Golgota, l'artista ha collocato gli uomini con San Giovanni in primo piano, a destra, e le donne, con la Vergine svenuta, sorretta dalla Maddalena e una santa donna, che bilancia la composizione, a sinistra.

Tra i personaggi che accompagnano Cristo, Nicodemo è stato identificato nella figura barbuta di profilo, che occupa il bordo della tavola, e il centurione nel soldato dall'elmo alato che alza un braccio indicando Gesù. In questa processione si delineano, sullo sfondo dorato, alcune lance e la spugna legata a un ramo di issopo imbevuto dell'aceto che Cristo fu dato da bere. Questa Crocifissione faceva parte di un polittico da cui sono state riprese altre due scene: L'Incredulità di San Tommaso e L'Ascensione, entrambe al Museo del Louvre. Come racconto della quarta opera con cui si completerà questo repertorio di immagini, sono stati citati l'episodio di Cristo sulla via del Calvario e una Vergine col Bambino. Il retro del tavolo conserva tracce di un'antica decorazione marmorea. Mare di Borobia. Informazioni e immagini dal sito web del Museo Nazionale Thyssen-Bornemisza.