#for the glory of the god emporer

[paintingagainstheresy]

First one of the Army is ready to purge some heretics ^^

[kattestrophe]

Hans Hermann von Katte’s farewell letter to his family

Because @citizen-zero asked and my friend shall receive! Translation by yours truly, do contact me if you find a more fitting phrasing.

English translation

“In tears I want to dissolve, when I think, my father! that this paper will cause you the greatest grief a loyal father’s heart can feel, that the hope you harboured for my well-being and your comfort in old age have to disappear all of a sudden, that your troubles and diligence for my education to the maturity of the good luck you wished me was for nothing, yes! that I have to wither in my prime before I am able to show you and the world the fruits of your admonitions and my acquired knowledge. How I thought I would rise in the world and live up to your hopes! How I believed that I did not lack my timely happiness and well-being, how smitten was I with the certainty of great renown! But all in vain. How negligible are men’s thoughts, all at once everything collapses, and how sadly does the scene of my life change. How different is my current state from what I imagined. Instead of the path to honour and renown I have to wander the path of disgrace and a wretched death, but how unfathomable, oh Lord! are Your paths and how inexplorable are Your judgements. It is rightfully said that God’s paths are not men’s paths and men’s paths are not God’s paths. Had I continued in certainty, and had I forgotten God over all the happiness and well-being and had I put Him last: Would I not have preferred the path of the flesh, of sins and of lust to the path of God in good days? Yes, surely something like this would have led me away from God instead of to Him. The damned ambition that is fed to one since childhood without truly knowing its meaning would have continued on and on and would have attributed to the vain mind what truly only comes from God. The just and merciful God wanted to prevent this, and since His many and diverse signs were not listened to, He had to catch me in this way to prevent me from falling further into perdition and possibly even into eternal damnation. For this He shall be complimented by me!

So compose yourself, my father! and truly believe that God is involved, nothing can happen without His intention, not even a sparrow can fall to the ground. He is the one who governs and conducts everything with His holy word, so this my fate comes from Him too. While the manner of my death is bitter and harsh, the hope and certainty of future salvation is all the more sweet and pleasant, while it is connected to disgrace and infamy, it is nothing compared to future glory.

Console yourself, my father! since God has given you more sons, whom he might bestow upon more good luck in the world, to allow you, my father, to live to feel the joy about them that you hoped to find with me in vain, which I want for you from the depths of my soul. Meanwhile I thank you with filial respect for all fatherly loyalty bestowed upon me from my childhood to the current hour. May God, the mightiest of all, reward you a thousand times for the love you have shown me and replace with my brothers what I have lacked. May He keep and protect you to an old and grey age. May He feed you with well-being and water you with the mercy of his Christ. 

For all insubordination, unwillingness and recusancy towards you I subserviently ask for your forgiveness, and since it is the last thing that I will ask of you, my father, in this life, I hope that you will not refuse it, since I am sure that God will grant this to me too.

Now nothing is left except to close with this consolation: While you, my father, have never experienced anything high or noble about me in this world, o! be sure that you will meet in heaven all the higher

Your

Son, loyal even in death.

But what should I tell you, most lovely Mama! whom I loved so much as if the band of nature had connected us – and you, dearest siblings! How should I institute my memory for you? My situation does not allow me to show you all that I have in my heart.

I am at death’s door, thus I have to be careful to enter with a clean and holy soul, so I can not waste time and only leave you this quote as a memory: 1. Book of Moses, Chapter 17, Verse 1 when God said to Abraham: walk before me and be pious.”

German under the cut

Entnommen aus Heynen, Walter (Hg.): Das Buch deutscher Briefe. Wiesbaden 1957. S. 96-98.

“In Tränen möchte ich zerrinnen, wenn ich daran gedenke, mein Vater! daß dieses Blatt Ihnen die größte Betrübnis, so ein treues Vaterherz empfinden kann, verursachen soll, daß die gehabte Hoffnung meiner zeitlichen Wohlfahrt und Ihres Trostes im Alter mit einem Mal verschwinden muß, daß Ihre angewandte Mühe und Fleiß in meiner Erziehung zu der Reife des mir gewünschten Glückes sogar umsonst gewesen, ja! daß ich schon in der Blüte meiner Jahre mich neigen muß, ohne vorher Ihnen und der Welt die Früchte Ihrer Vermahnungen und meiner erlangten Wissenschaften zeigen zu können. Wie dachte ich nicht in der Welt mich empor zu bringen und Ihrer gefaßten Hoffnung ein Genüge zu tun! wie glaubte ich nicht, daß es mir an meinem zeitlichen Glück und Wohlfahrt nicht fehlen könnte, wie war ich nicht eingenommen von der Gewißheit eines großen Ansehens! aber alles umsonst. Wie nichtig sind nicht der Menschen Gedanken, mit einem Mal fällt alles über einen Haufen, und wie traurig ändert sich nicht die Scene meines Lebens. Wie gar unterschieden ist mein jetziger Stand mit dem, womit ich in meinen Gedanken schwanger ging. Ich muß anstatt den Weg zur Ehre und Ansehen, den Weg der Schmach und eines schändlichen Todes wandern, aber wie unbegreiflich o Herr! sind Deine Wege und unerforschlich Deine Gerichte. Wohl recht heißet es, Gottes Wege sind nicht der Menschen Wege und der Menschen Wege sind nicht Gottes Wege. Würde ich etwan in der Sicherheit fortgegangen, und bei alle dem Glücke und Wohlleben Gott vergessen und ihn hintangesetzt haben: würde ich nicht vielmehr bei denen guten Tagen den Weg des Fleisches, der Sünden und der Wollust dem Wege Gottes vorgezogen haben? Ja gewiß, es hätte mich solches vielmehr von Gott ab, als ihm zu geführet. Die verdammte Ambition, die einem von der Kindheit an, ohne den rechten Begriff davon zu haben, eingeflößet wird, würde immer weiter gegangen sein, und zuletzt dem eiteln Verstande zugeschrieben haben, was doch einzig und allein von Gott kömmt. Solchem hat der gerechte und gütige Gott wollen zuvorkommen, und da seinen öfteren und vielfältigen Regungen nicht Gehör gegeben, auf solche Art mich fassen müssen, um daß ich nicht weiter ins Verderben stürzete und gar die ewige Verdammnis mir zuzöge. Dafür sein er auch von mir gelobet!

Fassen Sie sich demnach, mein Vater! und glauben sicherlich, daß Gott mit im Spiel, ohne dessen Willen kann ja nichts geschehen, auch nicht einmal ein Sperling auf die Erde fallen. Er ist es ja, der alles regieret und leitet durch sein heiliges Wort, darum kommt auch dieses mein Verhängnis von ihm her. Ist gleich die Art und Weise meines Todes bitter und herbe, so ist die Hoffnung und die Gewißheit der künftigen Seligkeit desto süßer und angenehmer, ist er gleich mit Schimpf und Schmach verknüpfet, ist es doch nichts im Vergleich der künftigen Herrlichkeit.

Trösten Sie sich, mein Vater! hat Ihnen doch Gott mehr Söhne bescheret, denen er vielleicht mehr Glück in der Welt geben wird, um Ihnen, mein Vater, die Freude an denenselben erleben zu lassen, die Sie vergeblich an mir gehoffet, welches ich Ihnen von Grund meiner Seele wünsche. Unterdessen danke ich mit kindlichem Respect für alle mir erwiesene Vatertreue von meiner Kindheit an bis zu jetziger Stunde. Gott der Allerhöchste vergelte Ihnen tausendfach die mir erzeigte Liebe und ersetze Ihnen durch meine Brüder, was bei mir rückständig geblieben. Er erhalte und bewahre Sie bis in Ihr hohes und graues Alter. Er speise Sie mit Wohlergehen und tränke Sie mit der Gnade seines Christus.

Für alle Ihnen jemals erwiesenen Ungehorsam, Unwillen und Widerspenstigkeit, bitte ich in aller Unterthänigkeit um Vergebung, und da es das letzte ist, was ich Sie, mein Vater, in diesem Leben bitten werde, so hoffe ich, Sie werden mir solches nicht versagen, da ich auch dieses von Gott gewiß versichert bin. 

Nun ist nichts mehr übrig, als daß ich mit diesem Trost schließe: Haben Sie gleich, mein Vater, nichts Hohes und Vornehmes in dieser Welt an mir erlebet, o! so sein Sie versichert, daß sie desto höher im Himmel finden werden

Ihren

Bis im Tode getreuen Sohn.

Was soll ich Ihnen aber sagen, liebwertheste Mama! die ich so sehr, als hätte uns das Band der Natur verbunden, geliebet – und Euch, liebste Geschwister! Wie soll ich mein Andenken bei euch stiften? Mein Zustand läßt nicht zu, alles, was ich auf dem Herzen habe, Euch vorzustellen.

Ich stehe vor der Pforte des Todes, muß also bedacht sein, mit einer gereinigten und geheiligten Seele einzugehen, kann also keine Zeit versäumen, und laß Euch nur den Spruch zum Andenken 1. Buch Moses Kap. 17, V. 1 da Gott zu Abraham sprach: Wandle vor mir und sei fromm.”

[barrycoganart]

World Eaters - For the Blood of the Gods!!

No.4 of this Warhammer week. Here we have a World Eater Chaos Marine, Washing the worlds of the False God-Emporer's realm in a tidal wave of blood for the glory of the Blood God of Choas.

[mocsbylexan]

Balkar, Toa of Stone

***

Balkar used to be in a cult.

The Cult of Ignika was one of the many spiritual growing pains caused by the chaos of the great rejoining and the sudden mixing of matoran and agori culture. They were essentially a doomsday cult that believed that Mata Nui had become an evil spirit of stagnation that was holding back the power of their true god: the Kanohi Ignika itself. One day soon the Ignika would break free from the prison of Mata Nui’s will and wreak havoc upon the universe. Those who renounced Mata Nui and accepted the natural cycle of destruction and creation that the Ignika longed to bring about would be rewarded with new life in the reborn world.

The members of the Cult of Ignika were rarely welcome in matoran and agori communities, but for a while they were allowed to exist and do their own strange thing so long as they didn’t bother anyone. Then they began to attack and burn matoran temples honoring Mata Nui. Turaga Dume ordered that the cult be destroyed. The leaders were captured and imprisoned, and the cultists and low-level leaders like Balkar scattered and hid in the wilderness until they could slip back into society unnoticed.

Balkar spent many years in just such a state. In hiding. Sulking. But he’s recently found himself called to a new cause: Onezu’s empire. No one is sure how exactly the two found each other, but Onezu needed an army, and Balkar’s experience observing the leadership of the Cult of Ignika meant he knew how to manipulate large groups of people. Over the span of a few short years Balkar has helped Onezu grow his military might from a handful of rahkshi and brainwashed shadow toa to legions of willing, fanatically loyal warriors of all kinds. Balkar’s never been much of a fighting type himself, but his mastery of mob psychology and the art of public speaking is not to be underestimated. He heads up what is essentially Onezu’s public relation’s team (made up of Balkar’s old cultist friends that he gathered and recruited), and he’s the one that rallies the troops before a battle.

But what of Balkar’s own beliefs? Well, he claims to believe what he preaches to the troops: that Makuta Onezu Nuva is the Kanohi Ignika incarnate, come to conquer the world and remake it in his image as was promised to the cultists so long ago. Of course, that could just be a ploy to put himself in control of the army so that he can stage a coup and take the throne for himself when Onezu’s grand imperial plans come to fruition. No one knows how loyal Balkar actually is except Balkar. But whatever the case, Onezu plans to eliminate Balkar the moment he is no longer useful. Not necessarily because he thinks Balkar will betray him... but rather because his incessant grovelling and his screeching, fanatical speeches are some of the most irritating things Onezu has had to endure in his entire existence.

***

So... this is the FIRST EVER COMPLETELY NEW MOC I’M POSTING ON THIS BLOG!

*party noisemaker sounds*

So do you guys ever design a character in your head expressly for the purpose of being pathetic so you can take pictures of your hero characters beating him up? And then you actually build him and you think, “Damn he looks really cool. I really wish I hadn’t conceptualized him for the EXPRESS PURPOSE of being a pathetic weakling for other people to beat up.”

That’s this guy for me.

So yeah. An evil, cult-leader toa of stone. He’s the second of my 3 major villain characters for Rise of Onezu (though I also have a bunch of minor minion-type villains planned that I may or may not actually build. Oh, and Veltaz and Kelot are also major villains but I didn’t count them since they are morally gray hired mercenaries).

When I was building this guy I challenged myself to have a color scheme that was as consistent as possible, with absolutely no metallic colors. I kind of designed his hand/toa-tool things as a callback to the 2001 mata claws. I’m pretty satisfied with how they came out. If there’s anything I’m NOT satisfied with about this build it’s that the way I built his hips ended up being really wobbly and unstable. Which I guess will make posing him in action shots where he’s getting beat up kind of difficult. Huh.

[thelonghairedone]

The end of season 5 liveblog

Sam heads back to earth. Glad the paladins get messages to their families. Notably Shiro does not chime in with anything about his family. Part of that may be due to being semi-posessed by Haggar who wouldn’t give a shit about his family. But, well we have never heard ANYTHING about Shiro’s family. Does he have anyone back at earth?

I am continually amused with Keith getting dwarfed by the larger Galra. Kolivan chews out Keith for being emotional and then of course sends him on a mission to retrive his mother.

Which I knew she was his mother the second they showed the picture of her. God, she looks like a purple female Keith, its pretty obvious.

Floppy mohawk general returns! :D Fighting against the other female comander I am going to nickname Shark lady

Keith’s mother is as brusque as him I see. Not a family for emotional openness.... I like her design. She looks kind of animie-ish

It must be weird going in a galra ship under friendly circumstances (probably especially for Shiro). 

Pidge and Hunk create a fun loving robot for the heck of it. I love seeing them work together, they even have a team name. So cute

There first order of buisness is blowing up food goo. And doing random shit for the light-hearted section of this episode that is sort of fillery but it don’t mind as it is funny. Those 2 galra who were chasing them/got tied up by them seem to forgive them and the robot really easily. Maybe the popsicles were REALLY good? The robot goes out with a literal blaze of glory on a rocket for the fuck of it. Well, you do you, robot

Lotor and Allura poke around Haggar’s lab. Not sure whether Lotor sincerly doesn’t think Honerva is Haggar or whether he is just trying to repress it. Search your feelings, Lotor. You know it to be true.....

Shiro is notably absent for most of this episode, which worrying given the possessionish by Haggar thing

Mother and son fighting together :D Awww and she gives floppy hair commander the codes to open 

That is a ridiculous amount of doors/gates that open, it just kept on going. And then there is a quick flash of some probably terrifying creatures that probably kills floppy haired general and her squad

Farewell floppy haired general, you will be missed :( :( :(

Keith’s mother gives the reveal but it cuts off before we can get his reaction

So the squad plus Lotor head off into a dangerous zone and one of them brings up the point of it perhaps not being the best idea to run off to a dangerous place looking for a supposed-mystical land when he has JUST declared himself emporer. I mean, dude, you are just asking for someone to take over in the mean time....

Thankfully for him, finding out about Altean stuff is ALSO Allura’s weakness as well (see the alternate reality issue a couple seasons ago)

The white lion is a white hole, which I only know what that is because of the Young Wizards series where there is one as a character in the first book (named Fred). Lotor gain Altean markings all of the sudden and only he and Allura can go through the place apparently (poor Coran, you are still important)

There is some pretty egyptian style heiroglyphic writing/picures going on in the walls and giant moving statues of course

Allura tries for a peaceful solution for the attacking lion, Lotor: not so peaceful. Look, Lotor, if you aren’t willing to risk being killed by a mystical lion to achieve knowledge you just don’t want it bad enough

Lance is worried. Shiro seems to have figured out something is wrong with him but not what. People seem to increasing go to Lance as a confidant as the seasons go by. Poor Shiro, unwitting spy and not always in the drivers seat of his mind right now

Lotor SAYS that the knowledge was not meant for him, but i doubt he is happy about being rejected for it. It seems like he has inherited his mother’s insatable desire for knowledge of quintessence. Which isn’t a good thing seeing as what is what literally started all this shit. And Haggar gets to listen in

Lotor’s generals are bored. Poor Zethrid has been deprived of the violence she wants. Haggar has some more plans up her sleeve. What is your aim woman?

I do like the shorter wait between seasons but 6 episodes a season is also pretty short. Please let the next one give more focus to Shiro and his character please. When he is actually in the drivers seat of his own mind? I wish the would address the PTSD he pretty clearly has like what was done in Korra in the last season

So at some point Keith has got to contact the rest of the group and belike “Hey so I found my long lost mom”

[ao3feed-snape]

Gods Of Egypt

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/3mU1Diq

by ShainLogan

In a time of myth and legend, when all of the world was new and history was nothing more than a dream. Three gods of fantastic power came together, drawn by a prophecy spoke by one. Speaking of a time of great destruction, and false leadership. Of fear, and warmongering. Of a time of magic dying, held in the stranglehold of those claiming themselves to be lords of dark or light magic. The gods knew this could not come to pass, so they concocted a plan. In a great sacrifice, they cast away their immortal forms, joining together they placed their powers, knowledge, memories, and their spirits in the form of a once mortal girl. She was their champion, and she was them. She was the blade of the gods, and she was the wielder. She was a god, and she was a goddess. She would bring down the false lords, resort Egypt to its rightful place, and bring magic into its golden age. But she would not do all this alone, she would have the help of a powerful Asian Emporer, the first of the fallen, her potion prodigy brother, and a child.

A child who bore a very distinctive lightning scar on the crown of his head.

Words: 323, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of Gods Of Egypt

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, K-pop, Lucifer (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Harry Potter, Original Female Character(s), Tony Stark, Choi Seunghyun | T.O.P., Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Draco Malfoy

Relationships: Harry Potter/Tony Stark, Choi Seunghyun | T.O.P./Original Female Character(s), Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape/Lucifer Morningstar, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin

Additional Tags: Hermione Granger Bashing, Ron Weasley Bashing, Molly Weasley Bashing, Ginny Weasley Bashing, She gives me Hives and a headache, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, he's a creep, and a bastard, Steve Rogers bashing, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Wanda Maximoff bashing, not wanda maximoff friendly, Loki is a good boy who deservess love too, And he will get!!, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, TONY STARK GETS LOVE MORE FRIENDS AND A DAMN NAP, Extremis Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, James Rhodes will make you go missing if you hurt his Tony, Pepper Potts is our ride or die, She's a bad bitch, And a goddess in all her fiery glory, James Barns is sick of Steve, He also just wants a nap and maybe a large vanilla milkshake, and a cheesburger, Thanos eats it, He gets dealt with and he regrets EVERYTHING, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) Lives, JARVIS FRDAY AND VISION call Tony Father, T'challa gets a good solid kick in the teeth he needs, Tired Of Harry Being a lil' bitch and A Doormat?, Well this is the Fic for you!, TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!, Mentions and references to a child being raped, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, I don't go to in detail, Maybe for a flash back, Lucifer is the best uncle, Ancient Egyptian Literature & Mythology, I AM NOT AN EXPERT ON EGYPT, I HAVE RECERCHED EVERYTHING I POSSIBLE COULD SO I DO NOT OFFEND ANYONE, I MEAN ABSOLUTLY NO OFFENCE TO ANY CULTURE OR RELIGION, I AM VERY FACINATED BY EGYPT AND IT'S GODS AND I LOVE READING ABOUT THEM, IF THERE ARE AND MISTAKES ON ANYTHING ABOUT EGYPT PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME AND I WILL CORRECT IT, IF I OFFEND ANYONE PLEASE TELL AND I WILL DO MY BEST TO CORRECT IT OR I WILL DELETE THIS, I AM NOT EGYPTIAN, I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANY OF THE OTHER MATERIALS OR CHARATERS I MAKE NO PROFIT FROM THIS, SAVE FROM THE MAIN FEMALE CHARATER SHE IS MY CREATION, Made up magical rituals, My Main character gets shit done!!!, The ministry is terrible but will be whipped back into shape

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3mU1Diq

[ramajmedia]

5 Disney Henchmen Who Are Truly Evil (& 5 Who Aren't)

It’s not easy being a Disney villain, and as such most diabolical dude or dudettes tend to enlist a little extra help to fulfill their dubious plots. Some baddie sidekicks help their master's evil schemes because of stupidity and ignorance. Others do it because they are horrible cretins themselves, some even more so than their boss!

RELATED: 5 Disney Villains That Are Better Live-Action (& 5 That Work Better As Cartoons)

So in this list, we are going to count down five Disney classic animation henchmen (or women, or animal or…something else) who are truly evil and five who truly aren’t. Spoilers ahoy!

10 Evil: Anastasia & Drizella, The Wicked Step Sisters

Anastasia and Drizella are utterly abusive to their step-sister, Cinderella. On top of forcing her to do all the housework and chores, they degrade and bully her whilst doing so, and this is before they even have anything to gain from it!

Clearly jealous that young Cinders may show them up with her beauty at the prince's ball, their most heinous act is taking turns to tear their orphan step-sibling's ball gown to pieces whilst simultaneously verbally abusing her. The sequence is actually quite nasty, especially for old school Disney!

9 Aren’t: The Hyenas

OK - technically, Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed, collectively know as the hyenas from The Lion King, did play their part in the assassination of a monarch and the attempted murder of his infant son, and they do enjoy the odd Nazi-style goosestep during a passionate speech (that Scar sure knows how to work a room), but you need to see things from their perspective. They have been banished to live in an elephants graveyard. Their home is literally made up of the rotting corpses of giants.

One could hold a little resentment towards a power that imposes such a fate, so when a sassy British Lion comes along proposing a plan that will grant food, water and hygienic living you can see why they side with him. Then when it turns out that leader wasn’t all he appeared to be, you tear him apart in one of the most brutal Disney fatalities of all time! Hyenas gotta eat!

8 Evil: Fidget The Bat

Basil, The Great Mouse Detective is a rodent rendition of Sherlock Holmes and every Holmes needs their Moriarty! Basil’s comes in the form of Ratigan, whose right-hand bat is Fidget, a beer-drinking, baby dressing, child stealing creepy so and so. Thanks to a peg leg and deteriorated wing, Fidget can’t fly and this factor, plus his most heinous attempted act, proves to be his undoing.

RELATED: 10 Most Underrated Disney Villains

Suggesting they chuck young child mouse Olivia off an airship so he and Ratigan can make a speedier escape, Ratigan responds by giving Fidget the boot instead. Crime doesn’t pay kids.

7 Isn't: Sir Hiss

Disney’s Robin Hood came about during a weird time where Disney characters were kind of played by other Disney characters. Balloo is clearly Little John, and Kaa is clearly Sir Hiss, complete with hypnosis powers.

A voice in the ear of Prince John (the phony king of England), Sir Hiss may appear to be quite vile, however his reaction of horror when John suggests murdering Friar Tuck shows that Hiss does have a limit to the dirty deeds he is willing to do, and slaughtering peaceful church folk isn’t one of them!

6 Evil: Iago

Most animal henchmen can claim ignorance when it comes to being wicked. For example, Hayabusa from Mulan, despite being a nasty piece of work, can be forgiven as he is a pet Falcon and was probably trained in his vicious ways by his master Shan Yu. Jafar’s feathered friend Iago cannot claim the same ignorance.

The loudmouth parrot shouts and screams all through Aladdin and not in the same way as a normal scarlet macaw. Iago is sentient and desires gold and glory, not a cracker! Gilbert Godfrey screaming voice provides the perfect tone for his obnoxiousness. Iago actually does a Vader and turns to the light-side at the end of the Aladdin sequel, Return Of Jafar; however, in the original, he is pure evil until the end.

5 Isn't: Mr. Smee

Mr. Smee is the first mate of the Jolly Roger and quite the bumbling, lovable soul. Although he is loyal to his Captain, James Hook, he does try to divert his commanding officer away from his life of self-destructive vengeance towards the Lost Boys of Neverland. Smee would much rather be sailing the seven seas living the pirate's life than murdering children.

RELATED: 10 Disney Villains Who Were Kinda Right

Yes, whilst Smee does worryingly bring up “slitting peoples throats” a few times during the film, one of those times is as a suggestion of a more humane way of killing Peter Pan rather than blowing him up, so he can’t be all bad.

4 Evil: Flotsam & Jetsam

Flotsam and Jetsam are two evil eels and sidekicks to The Little Mermaid's main antagonist Ursula. They don’t have a cute song or jovial “schtick.” They are just two evil, sinister, spooky sea creatures who float in and out of the shadows performing their mistress’s sinister wishes and scaring the living bejeezus out of any child watching the film. Most adults as well, to be fair. Pure nightmare fuel.

3 Isn't: LeFou

Short and dumpy LeFou’s only real crime in Beauty and the Beast is having a man-crush on the most popular guy in town, despite being punched and smacked around the head with gun-barrels in return. In fact, the entire town seems to be in love with Gaston singing his praises to the point they even have a song and dance routine worked out around his neck muscles, cleft chin and hunting abilities.

LeFou does storm the Beast's castle with the rest of the townspeople, but that's because they believe that the monster has kidnapped Belle and is forcing her to live there as some kind of sadistic prisoner. Actually, there is no misunderstanding here. Let’s be honest here people, that is exactly what the beast did!

2 Evil: The “Friends On The Other Side”

The Princess And The Frog’s Dr. Facilier is probably one of the most underrated Disney villains, and as such, has one of the best villain songs “Friends On The Other Side.” As well as own mischievous shadow Facilier’s aforementioned “friends” aren’t dopey short rotund men, comical animals or misguided creatures.

They are literal demons who possess voodoo masks and dolls, transform into snakes and are intent on nothing more than feasting upon human souls. You can’t get more evil than that!

1 Isn't: Kronk

Topping the list for bad guy besties with a heart of gold, to nobodies surprise, is Kronk from The Emporer's New Groove. Kronk isn’t evil, in fact, he is far from it. He cares for the elderly, is great with kids, is an awesome chef and has the muscles of a god. 

Konk would be the perfect man if he wasn’t thicker than Winnie The Pooh’s honey! Kronk is so lovable, he is the only Disney henchperson to receive their own feature-length spin-off in the straight to video Kronk’s New Groove. That’s gotta be saying something for his likability!

NEXT: The 10 Best Disney Villain Songs

source https://screenrant.com/disney-henchmen-truly-evil-not/

[ecotone99]

[SF] Arthur Part one

This story takes place in the Warhammer 40K universe, this one is fairly long but the future ones are to be shorter

Void shields failing

Void shields failing

Void shields down

The cold wailing of the ship’s machine spirit faded, like the light of the fire that followed it. The space marine’s eyes shot open. His eye-lenses were shattered, but through the cracks, he saw a blue sky above. Debris from the battle above burned as it entered the atmosphere. Warning sirens from his battle plate echoed softly in his ears, but the hormones of sleep set him into hibernation again before he could address them.

He awoke again to the earthy smell of woodsmoke and the chanting of a woman. His eyes snapped open and she screamed, backing up, “Hark, the angel awakes!” He was laying on the ground in the middle of the room, a bed of leaves below his bruised and beaten body. He realized he was in mostly in his under-armor body glove Eyes darting around he quickly gathered he was in a small hut, clay walls plastered over what he assumed to be a wood frame. The roof was low, he would have to stoop if he stood. His eyes stopped on a pile of his power armor in the corner, and he felt a sharp pain in his gut. He looked back down at himself and saw where a shard of shrapnel, red with blood, had pierced his ceramite when he had worn it. How did she get the armor off? He thought as the young woman began to gather her senses. She wore a gown of some animal skin, tied together with cords along her left side. She had light skin, bright red hair down to her waist, wild and unkempt. She held a tall staff, a green-tinted wooden pole with an animal’s skull set on top. The skull was long, horned like a daemon, and bleached white.

The Space Marine wrapped a massive hand around the shard of shrapnel and yanked it out. Ignoring the horror of the woman, he crawled over to his armor and found a small vial that lay within it, slamming it into his wound. His Mucranoids immediately went into effect, covering the hole in a waxy substance that grew out of his skin. He leaned his back up against the armor, breathing hard through clenched teeth, and looked at the Woman. She held her stick out towards him. At first, he found it comical, but then he noticed the subtle flare of witchfire ringing her eyes and burning on the skull of her staff. He put his hands up, away from the armor trying to make himself seem non-threatening. He knew a rogue psyker was a dangerous thing. “No weapon,” he said, his deep voice rumbling through the hovel. “Name,” She said as she began to bring the staff back up, and the witchfire fading. “Arthur,” said the Space Marine.

Arthur stepped out of the hovel and looked around him. The building stood on a low hill, hidden in a copse of trees. All around him was the lush green of forest, but to the north was a break in the trees. Far off in the distance, A large construction of stone rose up out of the ground, tall walls and towers grey against the stark blue sky. The fortification had banners flowing down from the towers, heraldry showing a white sword stuck point down in stone on a black field. If there is a choir, it will be there thought Arthur. I may have fallen into a feral world.

He went back into the hut, the witch jumped at his entrance, he pointed at the armor on the ground. “Where did you find this, where did you find me?” She just looked at him confused and in awe. Sighing, he inspected his armor on the ground. It was worthless, shattered, burned, and with the powerpack broken beyond repair. Sorrow welled up within him. His plate had kept him alive through countless battles, it had been a second skin when he had it on. It was akin to losing a battle-brother. The sorrow washed over him, he took a deep breath, and he moved on. He had no time to let this affect him. He grabbed two more unbroken vials of the Mucranoid catalyst from their housing. He found two clips of bolter rounds and thankfully, his combat knife was maglocked to a leg plate. His bolter was nowhere to be seen. He turned to look at the witch as he gathered up his gear. Standing, he rose nearly two feet above her and weighed at least four times her weight, towering over her like the statue of a god. She probably thinks she has unleashed a giant. He felt as though he should slay the witch, an unknown psyker was a dangerous thing, but something stayed his hand.

He found a dirt path down at the bottom of the hill, he turned to follow it north towards the fortification. An hour passed, he carried his gear in his thick hands, nowhere to store the items. There was a sound like the roll of soft thunder. Arthur turned to see two human men riding out on eight-legged beasts. The creatures resembled the horses of old Terra, the descendants of which had come with humanity on its quest amongst the stars to many different worlds. The stink of unwashed men met Arthur’s nose as they approached him, they wore shirts made of small metal rings and wielded crude ancient swords. They tried to look as menacing as possible, but Arthur felt nothing but contempt for these poor examples of low humanity. “Lo!” one shouted at him as they approached, “ye knave, ye troll! drop thy blade or Wulf and I will ride thee down!”

Arthur snorted in disgust, “Standing before you is an Adeptus Astartes of the Imperial Fists, scion of Rogal Dorne and I know no fear!” The two men just looked at each other and back at Arthur and began to advance. Disappointed, Arthur began backing up, walking to the edge of the road. He stooped down as if to drop his combat blade, but instead reached for a rock. His strength was such that the man who spoke was struck before he could get another word out. In one fluid motion, Arthur spun the rock around through the air and threw it through the man’s jaw. His lower skull exploded in a shower of blood and bone as he jerked back off his horse-thing. The other one, Wulf, turned around and fled.

Arthur hated himself for doing it, but he took the bag off the fallen man, in it were a few coins, some stale bread, and a place to put the gear he already had. On a whim, he decided to add a few stones as well. He climbed atop the man’s frightened beast, finding the saddle small and uncomfortable. All the same, he turned the creature north. He worried he was too heavy for it, but it held him for now.

A short ride passed and Arthur found himself approaching a small village, plots of land tilled for farming and small hovels similar to the witch’s took the place of green trees and bushes. Up ahead stood the stone castle with the banners he had seen before. That thing would not survive a single lance strike critiqued Arthur. The villagers, human peasants living in squalor, looked at him agape as he passed. As he rode on, closer to the castle, the conditions got a little better. Arthur could hear the ring of a hammer on steel and smell fresh bread. As he rode further in, observing his surroundings with a blank countenance, a man with a large floppy hat appeared out of nowhere. “Ser Knight, Ser Knight, hast thou ridden forth to enter the lists?” he said, “I am no knight, I am an Imperial-” Arthur was interrupted. “A knight, a knight, verily, by what title shall thee ride as?” “Arthur is my Emporer-given name…” The small man interrupted him again, making marks on a sheet with a primitive pen, “Arthur, glorious, the bards shall sing your glory to the stars” and then just as soon as he appeared, he ran off. Unsure, Arthur rode on slowly, noticing larger wooden and stone buildings with many people milling about. He noticed men riding tall on their own eight-legged horses, wearing some sort of primitive armor made of steel, wearing swords belted to their waists. His combat knife was about as large as some of them. He turned his eight-legged beast and followed them as they headed towards the castle, seeing a great field of flags outside its walls.

The file rode its way further through the outlying town, the field of flags revealed itself as some sort of tourney grounds. As Arthur rode up, he noticed sidelong looks from the other armed men and their servants. Making his way into the grounds, another floppy-hatted man ran up beside him, “Noble ser! Hast thou entered into the lists?”

“Some other man like you has already asked me, what is this here” returned Arthur. “Why ser!” the man looked alarmed, “verily thou comest upon the auspicious eve of Pendragon day, on the morrow, there is to take place a joust and mighty feast, surely a knight such as yourself ride for the event?” Arthur looked at him confused, but nodded and began to ride off before a large pot-bellied man ran out next to him “Woah there, here be my…. Mine own cousin! Verily we hast invited him, unbeknownst of the celebration” The man gave a wink to Arthur. The other man, whose floppy hat swung around as he turned to face the other, said “Oh verily, excellent! May the light above guide thine arm!” Then the man trotted away, his hat flopping over his head with each step.

“What is thine name, come, follow me, thou are sure to emerge victorious on the morrow, with mine help.” The pot-bellied man said to Arthur in a hushed voice and motioned him to follow. Arthur steered his mount after the man, and they quickly arrived at a small stone building. Arthur could smell the crude musk of burning coals and hot iron. “Mine name be Witege, and thou are?”

“Arthur” responded Arthur, waiting to hear what the man had to actually say. “Verily, Arthur, a man of your size and strength, none can hold you back.” sais Witege. Arthur eyed the man, sensing his motive, “my only goal is to get back to my chapter, does this planet have a choir?” Witege looked confused, “why dost thou seek bards?” Arthur sighed, he decided he would take part in this man’s scheme, it would help him in the short run and he could figure out his next move after learning more about the planet he found himself on. “You want to ready me for this joust? Why?” Arthur responded. Witege’s eyes lit for a moment and he said “Verily! Mine own hands shall arm thee and mine own son shall be thy squire, your humble servant only begs of half the coin reward” That’s what Arthur figures the man would say. It was the best option Arthur had at the moment, so he nodded his head in assent. Witege called forth his son, an older boy named Urien who Arthur guesses to be about 15 standard years old. They got to work refitting armor to the space marine’s massive form. Arthur helped as well, his strength astonishing the mortals. The finished armor was dubbed “Wygar” by Witege. Arthur decided to hold onto his combat blade instead of taking Witege’s offered sword. The combat blade was familiar to him and made of better steel besides. By the next morning, the mortals were exhausted, Arthur found himself dozing for about half an hour, his bones still ached from the crash and he figured the rest would do him some good for the “joust” to come. Whatever that meant.

He found out that next morning, Arthur stood at the edge of the field, underneath one of the black and white banners, and watched as two men. Fully armored, rode their 8 legged horses at each other with a thin wooden barrier keeping them parallel. The beasts thundered at each other, each strike of the ground kicking up a cloud of dirt. They each carried metal shields and wooden lances that they struck against each other with a mighty crash that it reverberated through his new steel plate of armor. Both men’s lances shattered, and one went down while the other barely managed to hang on, and then he shot his hands up in triumph. A tremendous cheer went up from stands that had been built at the sides of the arena, they were stocked with humans. At the far end of the field sat a monstrous tent, a black veil obscured its insides.

As Arthur stood watching stoically, Witege walked up behind him. Arthur turned and saw the man leading a massive 8 legged mare. “This be Llameri, she fits thine stature, verily, more than thine beast thou doth approach with.” Indeed she did. Arthur couldn’t help but admire the cords of muscle hidden just below the horse’s flesh. He looked back at the man and gave him a nod. Witege looked like he was expecting more, and then continued, “mine son hast a saddle for thee as well, Llameri shall be chomping at the bit for thine ride…” Arthur nodded his appreciation, face impassive. Witege shrugged and whispered “okay ser” as he walked away, leading the beautiful beast by the reins. Arthur watched a few more of the jousts to get an idea of how it worked, coming up with plans of his own.

His name was called. He strode forth on Llameri, donned in Wygar, feeling almost as powerful as he did holding a fortified position with his battle brothers. He smiled to himself under his helmet, he could probably secure the planet for the imperium by himself if he still had his plate and bolter. Against him, a knight in shining steel arrayed himself, a bright red plume trailing off his helmet. His horse was powerfully built, but even still his foe looked considerably smaller than Arthur.

Urien ran from his cover near the stands and handed Arthur his new unpainted shield and a tourney lance as the man across from him was also equipped by a squire. The other man raised his visor, he had a face red from the heat, with a large mustache. “Verily! I face a giant this day, wherest thou hail from, O Arthur?”

Arthur thought of a suitable answer before calling back “the Imperium.”

“Arthur of the Imperium, on this day thou ridest against Cador of Camelot!” Arthur shut his visor, and Cador did the same, their mounts stamping the ground in anticipation.

A man in a floppy hat took to a stand above the middle of the lane, holding a flag aloft. When he dropped it, both riders spurred their mounts forward, readying themselves for the clash. With Arthur’s enhanced psychology and physiology, Cador didn’t stand a chance. As Llameri thundered down the lane Arthur calmly sat into position, bringing his shield up and across to meet Cador’s lance, while he brought up his own to smash into his opponent. At the last moment he arrayed his lance in a calculated position, and when they struck with the blast of splintering wood, Cador was thrown off the back of his mount. Arthur rode down the rest of the lane to the adoring cheers of the crowd, before turning and going down Cador’s side, jumping off Llameri to help the man up. “You rode well,” he said, offering a hand. Cador slid his visor open, red-faced, and smiled at Arthur and said, “Aye, and thou ridst better” before taking his hand.

As Arthur doffed Wygar and Urien took Llameri off to take care of her, he heard the crash of the next joust. The shattering of lances and the yells of men and beasts as the first pass was completed. Arthur stepped out of his tent to watch, still half armored, to see the men prepare for a second pass. As both were handed new lances, Arthur focused in on one of the knights. He sat taller than any normal man, armor painted in the red of arterial blood and the screaming face painted on his shield seemed to writhe in pain. The knights began their second pass. The bloody man’s steed screamed as it flashed down the lane, tearing clouds of dirt into the air. When his lance struck his opponent’s shield it shattered, while the other man’s split and slid from the shield with the screaming face. The man careened off his mount into the dirt as the bloody knight rode to the end of the lane, hoisting his shield into the air. Arthur’s hearts felt a chill of cold as he watched the unnatural knight. When the vanquished man tried to get up, his shield arm lay limp, broken back in a sickening angle. Arthur clenched his jaw, wary of the knight in red.

The day wore on, Arthur vanquished whoever he rode against, while watching the bloody knight do the same. That afternoon, while taking a meal in his tent between jousts, the tent flap flew open and the witch from the woods burst in. Urien ran in hot on her heels trying to hold her back. Arthur held up a hand, “I know this woman” he said to Urien. The boy looked confused and waited, the witch turned to Arthur and said, “Lo! Angel of steel, I have pierced through the mists of time. Verily, as mine own form stands before thou, mine eyes saw one who seeks to send thee to the spirits! A knight, armored in blood, blessed by dark powers beyond the light of the stars. If thou shouldst ride against him, he shall smite thee to thine end!” She heaved with excitement, eyes wide as he looked back at her from his stump. Arthur stood up, “My thanks woman, by what name are you called?” he responded, holding out his hand.

“Morgana” She said, shaking his hand, “Arthur, forsooth, this thing must not come to pass” Arthur nodded and said, “I will deal with this” he looked to Urien, and told him what to do.

The time came for the final round, the joust to crown the champion. The crowd hushed, even the wind stilled from blowing the flags as Arthur took his place across from the bloody knight. The knight lifted his visor to reveal a hard lean face, clean of any hair, even eyebrows. His eyes shone pure red. He breathed deep, sucking in air like a drowning man before calling out in a guttural voice “Mordred rides against thee, I have vanquished all before, feast thine eyes upon me and despair!”

Arthur raised his own visor to shout, “You ride against Arthur of the Imperium, a warrior of ages long forgotten here. I am a wall your lance will break upon, your malignity has no power over me!” before slamming it back into place. He still beat the man in stature, but Arthur knew Mordred carried more than just his own power in his body.

They both spurred their mounts forward, Llameri bolted down the beaten lane, bursting forward more than she had at any time previously. Arthur readied himself and couched his lance as the bloody knight grew ever closer. They crashed together, both lances shattering to splinters upon the other’s shield. Arthur absorbed the force well, and watched Mordred regain his balance after the hit. The crowd roared its approval of the spectacle. They circled, coming back around to the ends of the lane. As Urien ran up with another lance he gasped “Arthur, thine arm!”

Arthur looked down, splinters of Mordred’s lance had defied the laws of the universe, they had split off and the wood had stabbed its way through the inside of the plate on his arm, and blood now seeped out of the wound. He clenched his jaw and yanked the shards out with a grunt, and then took the new lance. “If he does not fall here, bring me the magic lance” Arthur whispered to Urien.

They readied themselves once more, Arthur spurred on Llameri and her hooves thundering with the power of the engines of a thunderhawk, flying down the line. Arthur rammed his lance home, just as Mordred did the same, but the bloody knight’s lance slid off the shield, smashing into Arthur’s breastplate. Again, shards of wood punched themselves through Wygar, and Arthur breathed hard, smelling blood, as he looked down and saw foot-long spikes porcupining his chest. Mordred had almost fallen in that pass, but he regained his composure and circled on his steed. The crowd fell into another hushed silence as the two knights circled back into position. Blood now ran in rivulets down the front of Arthur’s armor. Urien ran out, eyes wide with concern, and handed Arthur the special lance. “I’m fine” Arthur grunted out through clenched teeth, shooing the boy away. He focused himself, and spurred Llameri one last time, as Mordred did the same. The two knights thundered at each other, as they neared Arthur took a deep breath in his helmet and threw his shield to knock Mordred’s lance aside. At the same moment, he smashed his lance into the other knight’s shield, the bolter round hidden within kicking off as the lance shattered. The round smashed through the knight’s shield, ripping apart Mordred’s armor, exploding within his arm.

There was a shower of blood accompanying the loud burst of the bolter round, everyone in the crowd jumped to their feet screaming. Mordred collapsed to the ground, falling off his mount, his left arm completely blown apart. Nothing was left but a twisted mass of steel and bleeding flesh. Mordred didn’t even scream. From the ground he grabbed the saddle and his horse began to move. It dragged him through the dirt and he turned back to yell at Arthur “Thee shall see me again, O cursed Arthur!” Together they tore through the camp, headed south.

Arthur stumbled off Llameri, and fumbled into his tent to grab a vial of the Mucranoid catalyst. He smashed it into his chest, and rubbed the coarse liquid into his arm. Inhaling sharply with the pain, he tore off his helmet. He realized that outside, the crowd of mortals had gone silent. He stood up to his full height and walked out of the tent. The crowd stood in a semicircle about him, with Witege, Urien, and Morgana a few steps forward. A floppy hatted man stepped out of the crowd and said “uhh Ser Arthur, King Pendragon will see thee now”

submitted by /u/GreyWanderers [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2O62kVp

[dimenovelsfromoblivion]

More People Worship the Rising than the Setting Sun

The old man looked up with heavy, tired eyes and a heavy heart at the portraits hanging directly above the bar. The commemorative photos of him during the crescendo of his glory once diffused among the numerous portraits and pictures framed on the pristinely polished wood had been reduced to just a procession of highlights. From the time he first made the rank of general up until the climactic moment of his lifetime, standing on an Abrams tank with the crushed gates of the white house under the treads. The old man looked eyes with the monumental figure in the photograph and was overpowered. He felt ashamed of his body that was wilting with age. The life drained from him with the steady drift of time and left a husk that couldn’t even fill out his heavily decorated uniform.

The other pictures were of times spent in this same secluded lodge. It was a place that seemed to be removed from time. A sanctuary the ruler could disappear to without his extensive entourage and security detail.

The other photos were of the American Ceasar with a loosened collar grinning with abandon at the head front and center of a group picture. Standing just behind him with her hand on his shoulder slightly turned away from the camera was the reason he kept coming back here.

She had luscious dark red hair that draped itself over her shoulders and emerald eyes that were highlighted by mascara. One of her long smooth legs revealed itself from the slip in her ebony dress, the long limb stretched itself in front of the General’s leg. She was a lover that gave him an experience unparalleled by anything else he might recall. It was always passionate but always just as brief. The days after their encounters were always hazy. He’d become desperate to find her again but even with the immense resources of the state has disposal he was never able to, and eventually, she’d fade into the background of his subconscious like a dream only to reemerge just as abruptly when he found himself in the lodge.

He’d met her just a week before the day he decided to lead his mechanized legions through the capital. With the precarious situation, he was in he couldn’t afford to show any sign of doubt. His co-conspirators might lose confidence and turn him over to save themselves. The closer the time came the deeper into paranoia he fell. His plan could have been foiled at any time, from moment to moment he had no idea if the MPs were coming to take him away. His sleep was restless and broken he was constantly being jolted awake by any sound no matter how innocuous. He decided to self-medicate and numb the growing anxiety with scotch and a sliver of Xanax. That was the first night he’d ever walked into that lodge.

When he sat at the table decades of dormant memories fading deeper and deeper away sharpened into clarity. She was both congenial and very aloof. This was viewed as a challenge by the unshakable ostentatious General. The officer broke in the first few hours. No matter what he said, she just didn’t seem engaged. The General on the verge of launching his own coup, in fact, the very first of its kind in the country's history considered himself a very interesting man. Try as he might he could not get her to ask him any questions about himself.

He was about to accept defeat right before she suggested they go back to his place. No matter how hard he tried, he could only conjure up flashes from his sexual encounters with her. His memories fragmented by a need to forget pleasures so unparalleled they’re an instant addiction.

She was just as distant afterward. Meanwhile, Gladstone had spent a good detail of time on the intricacies of this plan he was putting place

“Uh-huh, sounds cool,” she said ambivalently. “We’ll I will be honest,” she said as she lit a slender cigarette. “I’m kind of a fickle girl, so I’ve met quite a few very accomplished men, but I can’t say any of them had military dictator of the United States on his resume.”

She slid her legs over the side of the bed. “I’ve got to go,” she said flatly. She slid out of bed and started gathering up her clothes.

“I might be busy for the new couple of weeks after I get into the White House but do you think we can do this again once I free up?”

She pulled her tight dress back over her body, and instantly looked as good as she did last night. “Call me when you’ve moved in, she said as she walked out the door.

He’d run into her again over the years. Each time he found her more alluring than the last and each time he put forth more and more effort to get some reassurance that they would meet again. Every photo they together coincided with the triumphs of the American Emporer. He stabilized the borders, reannexed the regions that had succeeded, and pacified the cities. The delicate empire he had glued back together shattered in his hands. In just a few months the self-proclaimed Marshall of the United States watched decades of work be undone. The opportunistic forces of disorder seemed to be keenly aware the Marshall’s tenure was coming to an end. The response from anemic ruler was weak and ineffectual. The world watched as he fought the hopeless battle to hang on to his dissolving legacy.

He sensed that same weariness everywhere he went. He was a marked man people were cold to him as if they knew he would soon be irrelevant. Life had passed by, and now he could only watch helplessly as his underlings slowly moved out the floor from under his feet. The purges provided temporary catharsis, but it was a futile effort. He knew no matter how many he killed he would never kill the one that would replace him.

He shuddered and inhaled deeply. The sorrow rose like a frost in his chest before falling back down his stomach where he smothered it with his last gulp of scotch. He went to stand up but his legs were stiff and sore. He planted his feet and forced himself up. He leaned on the table and waited for a minute while the blood rushed back down his legs. That’s when she glided through the door.

The skirt on her black dress had gotten significantly shorter and hugged her slender frame even tighter. Nothing on her moved when she walked, she held in place perfectly. She was naturally graceful, and even her walk over to the bar was like watching a ballet to the nervous old man.

She sat at the bar, ordered a drink, and started tapping away on a sleek white smartphone. He waited to see if she’d notice him but she didn’t. He shuffled over to her and sat in the seat next to her’s, and she still didn’t acknowledge him.

“You’re looking good,” he tried to say in a sultry tone. “I can’t believe it, but you haven’t changed a bit,” he marveled.

“Oh, hi,” she said glancing up from her screen.

“How have you been?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said her eyes indifferently still focused on the screen.

“It’s been a while,” he said warmly.

With an audible groan and a roll of the eyes, she got up from her chair. “Look it was really nice running into you, but I gotta run. I’m meeting someone,” she said as if it didn’t matter.

“Oh,” he replied. “I understand,” he said trying to suppress his disappointment.

A tall man in a black suit came through the doors. A smile stretched across her face. She gave a friendly goodbye to the bartender and rushed to embrace him. His angular face was obscured by dark glasses. He held her close to him and peered over her shoulder at the ailing old commander. He lowered his glasses revealing eyes that were a cold abyss. He smiled with gleaming white teeth that were sharpened into razors. The sharply dressed monstrosity gave him a sense of deja vu. He knew who this incarnation of death was but he felt helpless to confront him. He put back up his shades and waved as he walked with her out the door.

That was the last time he ever saw her. As she was running off with the shark eyed specter. Like everything else from his triumphant years at the pinnacle of power time took her away from him. It was over  He looked back up at the photos of him above the bar and realized it was men like that the world was made for not the ones watching the last grains of sand funneling through the hourglass. He thought he had made the world turn but the eternal cycles would go uninterrupted without him. Once a man with a status not far below god he was just another soul waiting to pass on into the obscurity of oblivion.

[paintingagainstheresy]

Built a new part of the army and worked on two sisters :D

[paintingagainstheresy]

Second one is finished :D

[paintingagainstheresy]

Vacation-Time is Painting-Time 😁