#i am celebrating mardi gras in spirit

[sophisticatedswifts]

Everyone I know is posting pictures of them celebrating Mardi Gras and captioning it “everywhere else, it’s just a Tuesday" while I scroll through them from somewhere where it is in fact just a Tuesday :(

[qnewsau]

Nominate a community hero for the 2024 ACON Honour Awards

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/nominate-a-community-hero-for-the-2024-acon-honour-awards/

Nominate a community hero for the 2024 ACON Honour Awards

Nominations for the 2024 Honour Awards are now open, with organisers inviting community members to recognise the contributions of those who have significantly impacted the lives of LGBTQIA+ people in NSW.

Since their inception in 2007, the Honour Awards have celebrated outstanding service and achievements within the LGBTQIA+ community in NSW.

Organised by ACON, NSW’s leading LGBTQIA+ community health organisation, this gala fundraising event supports ACON’s community health initiatives and all funds raised through the event go towards enhancing ACON’s health programs and services.

“The Honour Awards have always been about acknowledging the diverse efforts and inspiring contributions of LGBTQ individuals and organisations,” ACON CEO Nicolas Parkhill AM says.

“This year, we are thrilled to continue this meaningful tradition of highlighting remarkable achievements within our communities.”

The Categories

Nominations are open across nine categories: Health, Entertainment, Community, HIV, Media, Business, Visual Arts, Youth, and Community Service.

Submissions can be made through the Honour Awards website (honourawards.com.au) until Sunday 28 July.

“One of the unique aspects of the Honour Awards is that they provide an opportunity to celebrate both well-known figures and those whose efforts might not be widely recognised,” Parkhill explains.

“We encourage the community to share the stories of individuals and organisations who have made a significant impact, whether their influence is widespread or more localised.”

A Gala Event

A panel of community peers and leaders will select finalists for each category, with winners announced during the gala event on Wednesday 18 September at Doltone House, Hyde Park Sydney.

Winners receive various gifts, and all finalists will receive a complimentary ticket to the awards ceremony.

“Celebrating our communities, especially at a time when we find ourselves once again facing increasing hostility from pockets of society, is essential because it reinforces our collective spirit and the importance of visibility, acceptance, and equality,” Parkhill added.

“The Honour Awards highlight the incredible work being done to advance LGBTQ+ rights and well-being, demonstrating that progress and positive change are possible even in the face of adversity.”

Thanks for Supporters

The 2024 Honour Awards are supported by event partners including St Vincent’s Hospital Sydney, people2people, Out@NBCUniversal, Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, Sydney Gay and Lesbian Business Association (SGLBA), Positive Life NSW, Friends of Cayte, and Doltone House.

Parkhill expressed his gratitude for the continued support from LGBTQIA+ communities in NSW, and event partners, for the Honour Awards.

“I want to extend my heartfelt thanks to our incredible LGBTQ communities,” Parhill says.

“Your unwavering support and active involvement make the Honour Awards a true celebration of our collective achievements. Together, we continue to inspire change and champion equality.”

-Nominations for the Honour Awards 2024 are now open at honourawards.com.au

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[hankcrocodile]

realized if there's anywhere i can post about this it's here. around junior year of high school i started writing this project loosely based on true detective season 1 but with my own sort of spin on it. it's a similar premise (murders in southern louisiana that the government is either too incompetent to solve or too involved in to bring to justice), but with some notable exceptions. in senior year i made three short (five min) films that together created a fifteen minute snippet of this story. the videos weren't very good but they were a step forward

anyway the premise is as follows: In 1914, after the explosion of the petroleum industry at Spindletop in Beaumont, TX, a company called Union Star Petroleum and Manufacturing began drilling for oil in an ancient prehistoric saltdome east of Lafayette, Louisiana. The project was meant to extract raw petroleum from the saltdome, but when the drill bit pierced the dome, it caused a sudden blowout which killed a number of workers. However, when the petroleum deposit was punctured, it released something other than natural gas, something that had been trapped in the impenetrable wall of salt for millions of years. A sort of eldritch spirit essence from the prehistoric age, which sprang out of the drilling tunnel and slinked down the hill and into the nearby Bayou Teche, where it inhabited the dead body of the CEO of Union Star. After that, the bubbling and seared corpse of Fielder Maringouin began dragging itself along the floor of the Teche, pulling fishermen into the water and draining them of their blood through cyclical incisions on their stomachs, before dumping their exsanguinated bodies back on the surface. After the spirit attempted to claim the life of a young woman from Morgan City named Alessandra Bourdelon, it failed when Alessandra managed to successfully fight back and wound the body the spirit was inhabiting enough that she could get away, and the spirit sunk back into the bayou and rested.

Eighty years later, in October of 1990, the spirit awoke from this rest and repossessed the thoroughly decomposed body of Fielder Maringouin. The spirit packed the gaps in its body with silt from the bayou and wrapped its bones back together with tied plastic bags and Spanish moss. After finding a mask from a Mardi Gras celebration that had been tossed into the Teche, it tied it to its head to hide the decomposition. In November of the same year, it pulled 27 year old Louis Fortier into the Teche. His body wouldn't be found until December, drained of all blood with cyclical incisions on his stomach. Eight more people throughout 1991 and 1992 would be claimed by what Louisiana newspapers would dub the "Bayou Butcher." A few people witnessed the Butcher, and reported roughly the same description: A tall, thin man in a large black 1910s or 20s overcoat, wearing a flat-brimmed hat, and smoking a cigarette. Most distinctively, though, was that he was always wearing a bizarre mask.

all photos are taken from the short films i did adapting this project. shoutout my friends ben and eris for being in them (ben is the guy smoking a cigarette in the alleyway, eris is the woman on the pier. i am the person playing the bayou butcher) the story was intended to be told in a semi-epistolary fashion, through collections of state and local documents (and also some letters and stuff). originally, i wrote the project through a series of missing persons reports and records kept by police departments in and around the area where the butcher was killing people (eyewitness transcripts, archive logs, press briefing transcripts, et cetera).

[bang-and-a-blintz]

Through the Darkness

CHAPTER EIGHT - TWELFTH NIGHT

I am terribly sorry this took so damn long to update. With everything going on right now, writing about having fun in Nola feels akin to writing about a lost loved one, but I’m trying to make it cathartic. I just miss the good ol’ days before the Plague States. Oh well. Here’s an extra long chapter for the wait!

Cheers!

Fandom: Dracula (2020)  

Relationship: Dracula/Roxana(OFC)  

Rating: Mature  

Warnings: TW bloooooooood  

Word Count: 6,770

Sanguine looked different in the daylight. The shadows in which it hid were not so prominent underneath the bright sun. Dracula took notice of how well the dark tones of the exterior blended with the hanging branches of the oak trees. It wasn't as foreboding in the gentle light. In fact, it was actually oddly comforting; there was something reassuring in its darkness.

Dracula took a deep breath, if only just to smell the jasmine flowers lingering in the air, and smiled. He leisurely strolled down the crooked sidewalk towards the restaurant. He didn't know if she was there nor did he think of if they were even open; he just went ahead and made his way to the entrance, taking the unlocked doors as a good enough invitation. Not that it was important or anything, but he had already been welcomed in previously. It was more of an attempt to be polite, common courtesy, and…dare he even think it, kindness.

Perhaps eating people in the South was starting to rub off on him. Though, he was irrevocably grateful not to accumulate the accent.

Silently, he entered the establishment. The front entry was dark but there was a sweet aroma wafting from the kitchen and he could hear the sound of music playing softly in the background.

She must be cooking.

The music grew louder as Dracula made his way towards the back, pausing at the doorway. Her back was to him, she was swaying back and forth, fixing up some sort of dessert, and blissfully ignorant to the creature of the night that crept up behind her.

"Smells delicious." He commented lightly, leaning against the door jam. Roxana jumped and gave a strangled yelp, spinning around with wide eyes. She held the sifter up like a weapon, the powdered sugar that she had been using was now spattered all over her. Once she saw the owner of the voice, however, her face dropped into that of a furious glare.

"For fuck's sake, Dracula!" She groaned in dismay, placing a hand on her forehead while he fought a laugh. "You need a bell."

"Perhaps if you paid more attention to your surroundings, you wouldn't be so easily startled."

Roxana sighed, "Why are you even here?"

The Count just shrugged and gave her that unnerving smile. He was bored, but he wasn't about to let her know that.

She rolled her eyes and returned to the task at hand. He made his way over to her side, curious as to what she was so focused on. Before them was a large platter filled with golden pastries of some sort, piled high, there had to have been a dozen or so. She was topping them off with a dusting of powdered sugar as they cooled.

"What's this?"

"Beignets." She spoke, refusing to look at the vampire who had moved closer. He hovered over her shoulder, perfectly content with encroaching on her personal space.

Finishing up, Roxana wiped off the counter and tried to clean the remaining sugar from her shirt. It was futile as the powder just continued to seep into the fabric. With a huff, she unbuttoned the chef jacket and tossed it in a bin, making a mental note to have it washed later.

She had been baking several batches of beignets all day. It was Twelfth Night; a special holiday in New Orleans and the only day that Roxana made these particular pastries. Every year, she would whip up a platter-full and bring them all to her favorite bar so her friends could enjoy while they celebrate together.

After washing her hands, she wrapped the platter up for transport before finally turning to address the annoying bat in the room.

"Alright, what is it?"

Dracula looked at her innocently, hands in the pockets of yet another immaculately fitted suit.

"Do you need something or are you just here to keep tabs on me?"

"I was in the neighborhood." He said with a shrug.

"You're not a very good liar."

He had the audacity to look affronted and placed a clawed hand on his chest, "Ouch."

Roxana glanced at the clock on the wall behind his head. She knew that Al would be there any minute to pick her up and she needed to get the vampire out before that happened.

"Well, as much as I adore your company, Count," She said sarcastically, looking back into his onyx gaze, "I actually have somewhere to be. So if you would, please…"

She gestured towards the door, but Dracula didn't move an inch. He just tilted his head slightly and a smile spread across his lips, just barely showing the sharp teeth beneath.

"What?" Roxana snapped, exasperated with his stare.

The Count's grin widened slightly, "It's just curious."

"What is?"

"That this time around you're a chef."

There was a pause and Roxana furrowed her brow in confusion, "I'm not sure I follow…"

He slowly circled her, taking one large step after another, like a panther stalking its prey. Not baiting him, Roxana just crossed her arms and tensely waited for him to quit his theatrics.

"You see, dearest Roxana, the first Van Helsing I came across was Sister Agatha, a rather fiery nun from a convent in Budapest, I believe it was. She was full of repressed desires, finding interest in all things darkly supernatural. Agatha was...truly one of a kind. Sharp as a knife too!"

Roxana narrowed her eyes. Was it just her or did he sound almost nostalgic?

The Count continued on with a humorless laugh, "Yes, she...ah, taught me a thing or two. But then she had to go and blow up the ship, sinking herself into the bottom of the ocean. No matter. Her spirit popped up again in the form of a Doctor. Zoe was cynical to boot. As a scientist, it made sense, for she didn't truly believe something until there was foolproof evidence."

He came to a stop in front of her and motioned to himself.

"Must've been quite the shock to see me strolling out of the depths of the dark water, hm?" He smirked.

"It'd be a shock if you could wrap up this story soon." Roxana muttered, eyeing the time.

His head tilted to the side, "Do you have somewhere you need to be?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Why not?"

She groaned, running a hand through her hair in frustration. This was going nowhere. He was nothing more than a child wearing the suit of a giant man…er, bat.

"Look, my friend is picking me up and we're going out. I would really rather not have a vampire loitering about in my restaurant. So I'd appreciate it if you would please leave, Dracula."

His eyebrows furrowed and a frown pulled at his lips; he looked like a kid who got their sno-cone knocked out of their hand on a blistering hot and humid day. She bit back her laugh at the thought.

"HAPPY TWELFTH NIGHT, BABY!" Al's shout rang loudly through the kitchen as the sound of his heavy footfalls came closer from around the corner.

Oh fuck, she thought as her eyes widened at the vampire and she instinctually grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the back door. Before she could get there, her sous-chef slash best friend let out a high-pitched squeal.

"Bitch, what! Rox, you brought back Mr. Tall, Dark, and Devilishly Handsome?!"

Roxana whipped back to face her friend who was looking between her and Dracula with a wide smirk. His eyes glanced pointedly at her hand clutching onto the vampire's arm and she ripped it away as if he was on fire.

"It's not what it looks like!"

The moment the words fell from her mouth, Dracula draped his arm around her shoulder and she could just feel the smugness radiating from him.

"Oh, it is exactly what it looks like." He purred, grinning ear to ear. "Good to see you again."

Al looked like he was going to explode, his mouth warping stupidly as he tried, and failed, to keep the glee from his face.

Roxana ducked out of Dracula's embrace and sent her friend a look of warning, making her way over to him. "Don't even start."

He made a motion with his hand that spoke of keeping his lips zipped, but she knew him far better than that. He would probably wait till later to hound her; most likely when she was too drunk to care because he was a sneaky asshole like that. Good thing she had a particularly high tolerance.

"What is that?" Dracula appeared at their side, gazing down at the rectangular box in Al's hands.

"It's a King Cake, baby!" At his dumbfounded look, the New Orleanians immediately took offense. Al gasped dramatically and placed a hand over his heart, almost as if the words had physically struck him, while Roxana looked at the vampire like he'd grown another head.

"You've never heard of a King Cake? How long have you been down here?" She questioned him incredulously.

The Count just made a facial shrug. It wasn't like he ate food anyway, so why would he be concerned about some local dessert?

"Oh my god, I just fucking can't. Let me find out ya boy don't know what a damn King Cake is…" Al grumbled and opened the box, placing it on the table so the three of them had space to hover over it.

The cake was made up of woven cinnamon and sugared dough that braided together to form a giant circle. A sleek pool of icing covered the entire top and dripped slightly down the sides; over that were layers and layers of purple, green, and gold sprinkles to give it the true Mardi Gras flair.

It was already sliced up into even little portions. Al took the first piece, glanced at the side, and then gave a huff, "Ain't no baby."

Roxana smirked and snagged a slice for herself, but before she could check her own piece, she noticed the look of absolute bewilderment on the vampire's face.

"Baby?"

"Not an actual child," She laughed at his wary visage, "No, no, it's part of the tradition."

Dracula's brow furrowed.

Well, with his aversion to holy symbolism, she supposed it made sense that he didn't understand what Kings Day even was.

"Okay, you look beyond lost so I'll give you a brief history." Roxana took a bite of her cake - no baby. She chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, and continued her bit, "Today is the official start of the Mardi Gras season, or also sometimes known as Carnivale. It is called Twelfth Night because it is precisely twelve days after Christmas; the night that the three kings visited the sweet, little baby Jesus in his manger."

He grimaced.

Christianity was still a touchy subject, it seemed.

"So why a…cake?"

"It's a symbol of unity; woven in thirds to honor the three kings. The Mardi Gras coloring each have a meaning as well; purple represents justice, green for faith, and gold for power. We like to have fun down here, so we hideaway a small plastic baby inside, and whoever finds the baby receives good fortune!"

"And the next cake is on them!" Al supplied, already on his third slice and shoving it into his frowning gob as he still had not found the baby. He handed a piece to Dracula. "You have to try it, Dong Phuong makes the best!"

The Count gave Roxana a side glance to which she just smiled sweetly, "Yes, Mr. Balaur, you simply have to try it!"

She could see the muscle in his jaw jump as he clenched his teeth tightly.

"I can't." He bit out, throwing her a dangerous look. Roxana noticed the darkening of his eyes and quickly realized she did not want to be testing the vampire's patience when her dear friend was so near.

"Shit, I forgot," She gave him a look of mock-concern before turning to Al and intercepting the offered slice, "He's on the Keto diet. Not allowed to have sugar or any sort of pastries."

Al's eyes grew wide in actual worry, "Oh no, that…that's horrible. I'm so sorry."

One would've thought that she had told him Dracula's mother had just died with how devastated he was at the news. The Count just shrugged with a placid grin, not knowing what the hell either of them were talking about. 

He had never even heard of such a thing.

"Yeah, he's trying to cut back a little, huh?" Roxana couldn't resist giving him two small pats on his tummy for emphasis.

He then understood and was entirely unimpressed by her implication.

"Oh baby, you look fine!" Al waved his hand and boxed up the remainder of the cake. "Well, we should head out 'cause the crew is waiting on our slow asses."

Roxana threw on her jacket and grabbed the platter of beignets, but then paused, looking hesitantly at Dracula. She didn't want to be completely rude, but she had to figure out something to say to make him leave. The last thing she needed was for this undead warlord joining them.

That would be a recipe for disaster.

"Hey Mr. Balaur, you coming?" Al called out from the doorway.

Her sous-chef was incredibly efficient in ruining her plans sometimes…or maybe he just had a death wish.

Dracula gave a non-committal shrug, but she knew better as he turned and threw her a sly grin, "Why yes, I would love to join you all."

Of course he would, she thought with an internal groan. She sent a quick prayer out to the universe that nothing deadly would take place this evening, but knowing the Count, that was probably nothing more than a pipe dream.

He bent down and swiped something from the floor that Roxana couldn't quite see from over the mountain of pastries she was carrying. In a move of suspicious chivalry, he held the door open for her and as she went to pass, she saw what he had grabbed.

Sitting delicately between two of his claws was the tiny, pink plastic baby that Al was so keen on finding in his King Cake. It must have slipped out when he had moved the box.

A small laugh escaped her as the vampire gave a toothy smile, his brows raising in wicked delight as he tossed it in the bin, "There is no baby."

~~~

The car ride was…awkward, but Roxana had to admit she enjoyed how uncomfortable Dracula looked crammed into the backseat of the tiny coupe. His knees were nearly pressed up against his chest as he sat there glaring at her through the mirror.

Al was blasting some Big Freedia through the half-blown speakers and the Bounce Queen's voice was belting out her iconic song called 'Azz Everywhere'. It consisted of very loud bass and the very repetitive lyrics of the title.

The Count was not amused.

Luckily for him, however, the bar was just down the street on Magazine. He only had to suffer through one song before the car was parked and he immediately shuffled out of it, unruffling his suit as he waited for the others to join him.

The place was smaller than he expected, but New Orleans was known for cramming together as many businesses as possible into one building. There were two floors of apartments stacked above and several people already meandering about on the balconies, their happy chatter filling the streets.

Roxana quietly asked Al to take the pastries inside so she could have a private word with the other man. Her friend just waggled his eyebrows at her and relieved her of the beignets. She sighed, running a hand through her hair before walking up to the vampire.

"Now, I know you don't like being told what to do, but will you please just be good tonight?"

Dracula rose a brow, "I am always on my best behavior."

"I'm serious," She stepped up to him, hands on her hips, wearing a very stern expression that just tickled him, "If you fuck with my friends, I'll call the foundation in a heartbeat."

"Is that supposed to frighten me?"

"It should light some sort of warning fire under your ass."

The Count placed a hand on her shoulder, claws just barely squeezing her skin through the fabric. She tensed, eyes darting back and forth between his dark gaze and sharp teeth.

"Roxana, my dear," He drawled, leaning closer with a wicked smile, "I promise not to harm your friends...this evening."

She rolled her eyes and shrugged his hand away, "I suppose that's the best I'm going to get."

The vampire's grin widened as he opened the door and gave her a small bow, motioning her in like a gentleman.

Clearly, nothing more than a veneer.

Roxana snorted and entered the familiar establishment. Might as well get the evening over with.

~~~

The bar was a grungy pit. 

The walls were covered in thousands of stickers in various stages of decay and what little wall showed from beneath was caked with the dried paint of endless graffiti tags. Stacks of board games were piled across the shelves lining the room, almost all had a missing component that basically made them unplayable. Old Christmas lights were strung up haphazardly along the ceiling and lit up the room with strange multi-colored hues.

It looked like an absolute shit show of a bar.

Dracula observed his surroundings with disgust, unsure that it even fit the building's safety codes.

"This place should be condemned."

Roxana elbowed his side, "You watch your mouth, this place is sacred."

"Oh my god, Al wasn't kidding, you actually did bring him!" There was a loud squeal and they looked up to see Angeline waving at them from the bar. From the looks of it, she was already down a few margaritas. "Hey there, Mr. Balaur! Fancy seeing you at this joint. Y'all getting into some after work extracurriculars?"

"What does that even mean?"

Angeline threw her arms around Roxana, whispering not-so-quietly in her ear, "It means that you're gonna schmooze him and booze him to woo him, baby!"

She could smell the waft of tequila permeating the younger woman's breath and fought a grimace, settling for awkwardly patting her back instead.

"Okay, you're having a water. Here, take a beignet too, cher." Roxana guided her back to her seat and gave Eric a smile, "Hey bud, how come you're not as sloshed as our little angel here?"

The poor kid looked like someone had poisoned his drink. His face, though already quite pasty, had paled considerably as he stared in open horror at the dark figure still lurking behind her.

"Rox, how come...he's here?" He asked quietly, eyes bouncing back and forth between her and Dracula. Trying, and failing, to not make his fear too obvious. "That dude is bad news."

She inwardly applauded him for picking up on the evident danger that was the vampire she brought to the bar. Too bad he was going to have to deal with the chilling feeling of pins and needles along his neck for the entire evening.

"Don't worry about it." Clasping him on the shoulder, she gave the kid her best reassuring smile and then addressed the group, "Guys, this is Dracula, it's a strange name, I know, but let's not tease him too much. Alright? Alright. Now, let's have some shots!"

After a couple of rounds, her nerves had mellowed dramatically now that various ounces of liquid courage ran like fire through her veins. She loved the rush of tequila. The vicious bite as the liquor hit her tongue followed by the soothing numbness was one of her favorite feelings. It never failed to pick up her mood.

The bloodsucking creature be damned, Roxana was going to have a fun night.

They moved the party out back to the courtyard; what the bar lacked in the interior, it made up tenfold in the back. Lights were strung up to illuminate the back patio and there were yard games for days. Anything one could imagine; billiards, pong, table-tennis, giant jenga, darts, cornhole, horseshoes. 

The list went on.

There was not a more fun time to be had than copious amounts of liquor paired with the natural allure of friendly, or sometimes not-so-friendly, competition. The inhabitants of this particular crew were no strangers to drunken bar games.

"Alright! Let's break out into teams, shall we?" Al slurred a shout to gain everyone's attention. He waved absently in Roxana's direction, "You and me, bitch, versus them two hooligans!"

Roxana glanced over at Eric who went pale as a sheet at the thought of going anywhere near Dracula, so she immediately intervened, "No, no, no, cher, we can't have that - it wouldn't be fair. How about me and the big guy, versus you two?"

They had already sent Angeline home in an Uber, ensuring she was coherent enough to actually make it there. Roxana had to repeatedly insist to her younger friend that there was no shame in calling it quits when someone was too drunk. It happened quite often to her, and she'd be lying if she said it probably wouldn't happen again. Sometimes the liquor just got the best of a person.

"Are you sure that's fair for them?" Dracula purred into her ear. He had been close to her all evening, not once leaving her side and, to her begrudging enjoyment, he had not even paid the slightest bit of attention towards any of her friends.

Only her.

She stubbornly insisted to herself that she was grateful for the attention because it meant less of a threat to her friends. However, she couldn't ignore the pleasant shiver that ran down her back every time they caught eyes.

"It is as long as you hold off on your batty voodoo." Roxana said, tossing back another shot like it was water.

This made him curious.

While her friends had consumed quite a substantial amount of alcohol, they sure as hell weren't holding a candle to what the small woman beside him was pounding down. And she didn't even seem to be phased. It was encouraging to see someone else have an unquenching thirst like his. 

Although he preferred something entirely different, he was still rather impressed.

Roxana snagged two pool sticks, eyeing them for any bends in the wood or scuffs on the cues before tossing one to Eric, "I'll rack it up."

Dracula watched with interest as she bent down to retrieve the balls and sorted them into a wooden triangle. From his angle, he had a delightful view of her cleavage and the vampire did not hesitate in sliding over to sit close to her on the table. Pressing a palm down flat onto the felt, he leaned closer under the guise of observing her movements of 'racking'. Whatever that was.

When she glanced up at him, he felt a peculiar pang in his chest that he didn't understand. She looked so…beautiful at that moment. With the hues of red and orange from the shitty lights hanging above casting her in a hazy glow, he was struck in some sort of spell.

In a flash, her gaze hardened as she realized how close he had edged over to her, and the spell suddenly lifted. He masked his confusion from the whiplash of strange emotions with an easy smile.

"Need something?" She asked, straightening up.

"What is this?"

"Pool?"

He glanced around with furrowed brows, "I see no pool here. That'd be disgusting."

Roxana couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head at the idiotic bat. She pointed to the table, "This is pool, you know, billiards? Shit, do you even know how to play?"

"I could easily acquire the skill." Dracula licked his lips, dark eyes scanning the people around them as if eyeing some prey. She pushed him off of the table causing him to chuckle and stand beside her, "Alright! Teach me then, it can't be that difficult. You silly humans and your nonsensical pub games."

"You're just upset that you died before you could enjoy having any sort of drunken fun."

He looked affronted, placing a hand to his chest, "I'll have you know I'm quite good at games! I used to have a ball seeing how many men I could impale with one toss of the spike. Ah, those were the days."

Roxana was grateful that Al and Eric were busy taking turns trying to balance their stick on their chins on the other side of the table. Out of earshot.

"Enough of that now." She muttered to the Count and then grabbed her friends' attention, "Oi, tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, one of you break this."

As they argued, throwing their hands around in a match of rock, paper, and scissors, Roxana set out explaining the game of pool to the out-of-date vampire. By the time she was done with the rudimentary overview, Al gave a shout of victory and lined up the pool cue for his shot. The rack broke evenly, balls soaring in every which direction across the table, and a stripe sank into a pocket.

The game had begun.

Roxana prided herself in being a bit of a pool shark, so she was slightly disappointed when she only got in two solids before scratching. She handed the stick over to Dracula and they watched Eric fumble around before the Count's turn. The valet missed and slurred a slew of expletives, flipping off the table as if it were to blame for his loss of cognitive function. Dracula made his way to the table, copying the position he had seen the others use as he lined up his shot.

In his peripheral, he spotted Roxana sliding up next to him, reaching out her hands to adjust his stance. He was surprised at her willingness to be in such close proximity and he gathered that the copious amounts of tequila she had imbibed had something to do with it.

Gently, she wrapped a hand around his forearm, angling and lifting it slightly while the other hand wove his fingers to the correct positioning of balancing the cue between them.

With a hum of approval, Roxana finally looked up to meet his gaze and noticed how close they were. If she were to just turn her head slightly and lean forward an inch, his lips would be so easy to press against.

She jumped back quickly, creating a safe distance between the two of them once more and motioned for him to shoot. Dracula blinked, a little dazed himself at the strange pull he suddenly felt. He gave an imperceptible shake of his head and focused on the game.

When the stick hit the ball, he realized he might've put in a little more force than necessary because the ball shot off the table and bounced halfway across the courtyard.

"That's a scratch, bitch!" Al screamed with hysterical laughter while Eric ran over to try and capture the errant ball.

After a few turns, Dracula had become noticeably better, and soon enough, the pair of them were winning every game. The humans did not relent in their intake of alcohol and eventually, Al threw his hands in the air in defeat, swaying liberally back and forth. He was so very clearly plastered as his eyes tried to focus in on Roxana. "I think…I'm done. It's bedtime, bitch."

"Yeah, same -" Eric started but was abruptly cut off by his own loud hiccup, "S-s-same here!"

Roxana raised a brow and smirked at the two drunks who were hanging onto each other in an attempt to keep one another upright. It was incredibly amusing.

"Alright, y'all have a good night, then." She drawled, tossing back yet another shot. The sight made Eric turn a little green. He never understood how she could possibly stomach so much liquor and the mere thought drinking more made his gut turn. Al saluted them and then slung one arm around the younger man, whistling a tune as he dragged them out of the bar.

"Didn't he drive?"

Roxana was surprised that Dracula even cared.

"Yeah, he did. But he also lives one block up, which is why we usually come to this spot. I used to live super close, too." She said with a wistful sigh, "I miss the days of only stumbling a few steps to get back home."

She placed the cues back up on their rack along the wall and pushed the rest of the balls into the holes, wiping her hands down on her pants as she came to a stop in front of the vampire.

"And then there were two." Roxana spoke, a small grin lighting her face. "You were actually good tonight. Thank you."

Dracula shrugged, "I made a promise, did I not?"

"Yeah, you did." She patted him on the arm, "Great job, bat boy."

His brow rose but he said nothing to rebuke her comment. If anything, he was endlessly entertained by her constant need to call him names. 

No one had ever dared before.

"Well, it's getting late and homeboy is about to shut down for the night…" Roxana shrugged on her jacket and swigged back the last shot of tequila that sat on the table, biting into a lime wedge and then tossing it into the empty cup. It must've been the liquor taking action finally because she couldn't stop the next words from flowing out of her mouth, "Would you wanna…walk me home?"

The Count gazed at her for a moment. Long enough for Roxana to drop her eyes and reach for her purse, fully intending on making a beeline out of the bar and running away from her sudden embarrassment. 

He caught her arm before she could turn and snaked it around his own, tilting his head towards the exit, "Shall we?"

~~~

The night was cool and calm underneath the light of the moon. 

A breeze flowed gently through the empty streets and wrapped the pair in its comforting embrace. Roxana loved nights like these, when no one was out and about and the usually bustling city lay dormant in its rest.

They walked in amicable silence. 

It was pleasant to just simply enjoy the sounds of the night; there weren't many creatures that roamed about in a city like New Orleans, but the tropic region provided plenty of bugs. Although it was a strange tune, the buzzing song that the cicadas sang was calming as they hummed peacefully through the night.

He noticed that her posture was relaxed and although she wasn't outright stumbling, there was a little sway to her walk that entertained him. It was shocking how easily she had grown accustomed to his presence. Or perhaps she was just drunk, but he'd rather assume the former was true.

Roxana wandered off the sidewalk slightly, spotting a blooming Southern Magnolia tree. She did a little dance over, plucked a stem, and returned to the Count's side. He watched as she once again tucked the flower into his breast pocket. 

This one was as pale at the moon above, smelling of fresh lemon. 

"Do I still reek of evil?"

"Nah," She shrugged, "They just bring out your eyes."

Dracula couldn't help but laugh, the warm sound echoing in the street and bringing a smile to her face. If she didn't know any better, she might've entertained the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She always did have a habit of going for the bad guys in her past, but Roxana drew the line at an actual blood-sucking monster.  

As they neared her home, she came to a stop just shy of her front porch and turned to look at the Count. "Well, thanks again for, you know..."

"Not eating your friends?"

"Yeah, that."

Dracula stepped closer and lifted his hand. She expected him to grip her around the neck, a strange and unnerving habit of his, but to her surprise, he gently brought her chin between his thumb and forefinger. The soft movement caught her off guard. He raised his own chin, looking down at her, searching for something that she could not possibly begin to fathom. It caused her a bit of apprehension as a toothy grin slowly crept onto his handsome face.

"My dear, I'm afraid I would find your friends to be rather…flavorless." He murmured lowly, enjoying the instant furrow in her brow, "I am a connoisseur, not a glutton. I prefer not to pick the low hanging fruit. The taste is always…off."

"Unbelievable!" She ripped herself from his grasp, sending the vampire the meanest glare she could muster and spun on her heel to walk towards the door, "You got some fucking nerve calling my friends flavorless, what a douchey thing to say -"

But the words died in her throat and her body froze.

Dracula was amused by her outburst; he always did enjoy pressing human's buttons. They were such sensitive creatures. But the way she cut herself short drew some concern. 

He followed her steps, craning his neck to try and figure out what had caused her reaction. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

Then he smelled it. 

Instantly, his senses were taken over as he felt the pooling in his eyes and the lengthening of his dagger-like teeth making him snarl viciously. His shoulders went rigid as his body unconsciously tensed up, ready to attack. Every single one of his nerve endings was on fire as he fought the urge to consume everything in sight.

There was blood…and quite a bit of it.

The crimson liquid trailed from somewhere within her home to the entrance and it led to a red-soaked note nailed to the middle of the front door. Dark lettering read, "WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE - MEET US TOMORROW NIGHT - ST LOUIS CATHEDRAL - BEWARE THE BAT"

Dracula's growl drew her attention away from the letter and she glanced back with wide-eyes, looking at the vampire in horror. His visage was just as frightening as the sight before them. She took a step back and paused, nearly shrieking when he snapped his jaws at the pool of blood that entered his view.

He took a few deeps breaths, trying to control his natural inclination to feed, and then realized that the scent wasn't right. Something was different about it and he couldn't quite put a finger on it. Licking his lips, Dracula calmed himself down and Roxana watched as his face slowly returned back to normal.

"Are you okay?" She asked quietly, "I know you said you wouldn't harm me...but -"

"I'm fine." He bit out, making her jump. Noticing her palpable fear, the vampire ran a hand through his hair and changed his tone, "My apologies. I'm a bit famished and this caught me off guard."

"Yeah, you're telling me…" Roxana's eyes crinkled with worry as she gazed back at the scene on her doorstep.

"The blood is fresh."

Her bright eyes shot back to him, "What if they're still here?"

Dracula lifted his brows, "Then I'll be having a nice little snack."

Rolling her eyes, she went to move towards the door but was stopped mid-step by a clawed hand firmly pulling her back.

"Ah, ah, ah, I'll be investigating this, my dear." His lips quirked but the smile did not meet his eye, "I'm the immortal one here, remember?"

The Count carefully pushed open the door and made his way into her home, taking caution of avoiding stepping in the trail of blood. He let his eyes adjust to the darkened interior and listened carefully for any noises of someone inside, but all he could hear was the pounding heartbeat of the woman standing behind him.

Shame, he thought, it would've been nice to have a bite to eat. 

He really was hungry. 

Ignoring his craving, for now, Dracula reached over to flick on the light and called out to Roxana, "The coast is clear. Those cowards must have run off after slicing one of their hands like an imbecile and - oh, fuck."

His gaze landed on an object lying in the middle of her living room.

"What? What happened?" Roxana called, taking a step through the threshold.

Dracula's put up a hand, "Wait - don't come in!"

But it was too late. 

Her eyes found the source of the blood and a gut-wrenching moan escaped her lungs as she felt herself collapse onto her knees, staring at the blank gaze of her mangled cat.

"No, no, no, no, no -" Roxana shook her head, tears pouring from her eyes as she tried to wrap her mind around the brutality that befell her sweet furry friend. 

It was a shocking sight. 

She felt her heart seize up painfully, squeezing so dangerously inside the cavity of her chest that she thought it might actually burst. Roxana didn't even register the tall man swooping down and picking her up into his arms.

"Breathe, Roxana! You'll be okay, just breathe." He carried her away from the scene of the crime, bringing her outside and placing her down onto the stoop. She was nearly hyperventilating and couldn't even focus on his dark eyes that blocked her vision. He grasped her cheeks, softly stroking his thumbs along her face, urging her to calm down, "Listen to me, deep breaths, alright? Come now, breathe with me."

He began to inhale and exhale, trying to get her to match his movements. She shakily did the same, closing her eyes tightly and clasping onto his hands.

"Good, keep going. Just like that." They continued the breathing exercise, in and out, until her gasps slowly faded and her heaving chest eventually evened out. "You're doing very well."

Roxana finally opened her eyes. If Dracula had a beating heart, it would've surely stopped at the sight of her look of utter despair.

"They killed my cat."

He nodded solemnly, bringing a hand up to her hair and stroking it back behind her ear, "I am sorry for your loss."

After a moment of silence, she spoke up again, her voice raspy, "Are you going to kill them?" 

Again, he nodded and she gave a sigh of relief.

"Good. I hope they fucking rot."

"You're not staying here tonight."

Roxana's eyes glistened but she refused to let more tears fall, "Yeah, I should probably head to Al's. He has an extra couch or floorspace…or something. They're probably passed out, but I know where the spare key is."

"No," Dracula said, standing up and offering a hand. "You're staying with me."

"That doesn't seem like a good idea." She eyed it skeptically.

"Roxana, I'm not allowing you out of my sight until I find who did this." The vampire's tone was sharp and she felt the exhaustion from the evening finally catch up to her.

With a heavy sigh, she relented, "Fine. I'm too tired to argue with you right now."

Dracula saw her eyes drooping a little and with a small smirk, he reached down and drew her into his arms again. At her weak attempt to struggle, he tightened his grip and shushed her complaints, "Relax, just go to sleep. I've got you."

She gave up trying and rested her head against his shoulder. 

The last thing she remembered before an uneasy rest took her away was the faint scent of citronella wafting up from the magnolia flower sticking out of his pocket.

Taglist - 

@festering-queen​ @hiphop-gir​ @hyacinth-meadow​ @moony691​ @torntaltos​ @cam-bang​ @mood-adlock​ @allis143​ @hoefordarkness​ @vissidarte213​ @thebeautyofdisorder​ @greenisms​ @guardianbelle​ @gabesprincess​ @profiler-in-courage​ @enchantedfleur​ @feralstare​

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[wontlastimokwiththat]

Witches Mates- Chapter 2

Part 2 of Witches Mates. Hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Witchcraft, Blood (not gore) 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

As I walked outside to the backyard, I was met with cheers and applause. I smiled and waved before joining the crowd and talking to as many people as I could. Eventually, I made my way to Liam and his friends.

"You look beautiful," Harry greeted.

"Thanks," I smiled.

"This is one hell of a birthday celebration," Calum told me.

"That's not what this is. I don't like celebrating my birthday," I said.

"Then what's this?" Ashton asked.

"This is the best Halloween party in New Orleans. And since the queen can legally drink, it'll be the best in history," Damien said, walking up with two drinks in his hands.

"Queen, huh?" Michael quizzed.

"J's Halloween parties are as iconic as Mardi Gras on Burbon Street. After her first one, she was branded the queen of All Hallow's Eve," Damien told him as he handed me one of the drinks he was holding. As I went to take a sip, someone walking in caught my eye.

"Um, Damien," I said, pointing in the direction of the door. He turned to look and his smile fell quickly.

"Who's that?" Calum asked.

"Someone who shouldn't be here," Damien hissed before walking towards the door. I looked at Liam.

"No one leaves," I told him.

"Is that who I think that is?" Liam asked. "Jonathan Moore?"

"Yes," I nodded. "Just, stay." I started walking away.

"We're not dogs!" Louis yelled at me.

"I wonder sometimes!" I yelled back as I made my way through the crowd and into the house, where I'd saw Damien drag Jonathan. Damien had Jonathan cornered in the empty house.

"Why are you here?" I hissed. Damien moved so Jonathan was facing me but Damien pinned his arms behind his back.

"Can't I come wish my little girl a happy birthday?" Jonathan asked.

"No, you can't," Damien growled. "Not now, not ever."

"Why are you really here?" I demanded.

"To warn you," Jonathan said.

"Warn me about what?" I asked.

"My kind who are coming for you. They know you're the most powerful of your kind and they want you stopped," he told me.

"You could be killed for being here, why come?" I quizzed.

My dad is a vampire who was turned when I was nine. When he turned, he left as a way of protecting my mother and I. Unfortunately, he wasn't turned by the good type of vampire. He was turned by the kind who hates witches and everything we stand for, which is what he must do as well or he'll be killed, for good this time. Witches are the glue of the supernatural world, we keep the peace and make the laws. We're the judge and jury. We protect the supernatural world from mundanes and mundanes from the supernatural world. Most supernatural creatures respect us but there is a few who don't. Rouges are the name we use for the vampires and werewolves who stand against us.

"I might not like what you are but you're still my daughter and I'll still protect you at every cost necessary," he said.

"She doesn't need your protection," Damien told him. "And you have no right calling her your daughter. Not after everything you've done." I heard the door open and turned to see Zayn and Ashton walking in.

"Let him go," I told Damien. Damien looked at me warily but released Jonathan's arms. "Message received, you need to go."

"Jessica, I'm serious. Th-"

"She said go," Damien growled, shoving him towards the front door. "So go before I change my mind." Jonathan looked between me and Damien before nodding and walking out the front door.

"Is everything okay?" Zayn asked. I turned to look at him.

"I told you to stay where you were," I said.

"Liam said he was bad news," Ashton told me.

"He is," Damien nodded. "And he ruined a perfectly good night."

"Who is he?" Zayn quizzed.

"My dad," I said.

"If you'd have said that sooner, I'd have killed him," Zayn told me.

"I've been trying to get her to let me for years," Damien said. "It's pointless."

"I don't know the story of what happened but there's still an awesome party going on outside. Maybe that'll cheer you up," Ashton said. I smiled.

"You guys go on. I should reach out to Mom and let her know," I told them. "I'll be out there in a minute." They nodded and walked outside. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of paper from a drawer. I quickly wrote down that rouges were coming for me before folding the paper into a paper airplane and sitting it on the island. "Air, I need you to take this to Mom." The paper airplane lifted into the air and flew out of the house. I went back outside and met back up with Liam and his friends.

"You okay?" Liam asked, hugging me.

"I'm fine. I just stopped a murder but I'm fine," I told him, pulling away.

"That was a quick call with your mom," Ashton said.

"Um, yeah. She's busy and couldn't talk long," I lied. Damien smiled and mimicked throwing a paper airplane. I laughed and nodded.

"What was that?" Michael asked.

"Inside joke," Damien grinned.

"Well, let's have some fun," Louis said before climbing on top of the bar. "Can I have everyone's attention?" he yelled over the crowd. I saw Damien make a down motion with his hand and the music went quiet. Everyone turned to look at Louis, who held his cup up in the air. "A toast! The wonderful Jessica Lebeau, the queen of All Hallows Eve, has done it again! To the queen!"

"TO THE QUEEN!" everyone yelled with their cups in the air. Damien magically turned the music back up and Louis jumped off the bar.

"C'mon," Calum said, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the crowd of people. I smiled as we started dancing with everyone else. Eventually, we went back towards the bar, but our friends weren't there anymore.

"Can I ask you something?" I quizzed.

"Of course," he nodded.

"You're friend, Luke. He doesn't like me, does he?" I asked.

"It's not like that," he shook his head.

"Can you tell me how it is?"

"I heard you and Ash talking earlier about how you know about witches, do you know about Liam?" he asked.

"Liam's a werewolf," I said. "Like Harry, Louis, Niall, and Zayn. Why?"

"Ash, Mike, and I are vampires," he told me.

"That's cool," I nodded. "But Luke isn't?"

"Luke's a hybrid, half werewolf and half vampire," he explained.

"So, why does he hate me and you don't if he only has half the bloodlust?" Calum smiled.

"Well, Luke's a lot younger than us so even with half the bloodlust, it's hard. Plus, you aren't a normal girl," he said.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"You're our mate," he told me.

"Our? You and Luke?"

"And Mike and Ash," he said.

"I didn't see that coming," I admitted. "So, Luke hates me because of what?"

"You make him feel vulnerable," I heard a voice from behind me say. I turned to see Ashton standing there. "And he doesn't like being vulnerable."

"Who does?" I asked.

"Luke's just a dick," Michael said, walking up. "He'll adjust."

"Until then, I'm gonna need a drink," I told them, motioning for the bartender to pour me a drink. "Why did ya'll come with Liam anyways?"

"We were visiting him and the boys and he told us about a girl who throws awesome parties," Michael told me as I took a sip of the drink the bartender had made.

"And we never turn down a good party," Calum smiled.

"Jessica!" I heard a woman's voice call. I turned my head to see Annette, Damien's girlfriend. She was in her usual attire, a blue shirt and green jeans with blue eyes shadow and a black choker that had a blue pendant dangling from it. Her dark pink hair was down, ending just below her shoulders, and her caramel skin seemed to be glowing. I smiled as I walked to her and hugged her tightly.

"I thought you were in Paris with Mom," I said in her ear.

"I came as soon as she got your message," she told me as we pulled away. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I assured. "Damien made sure he didn't lay a hand on me."

"Is everything alright here?" she asked. "No spirits? No unwanted creatures?"

"Everything's great." I paused. "Kinda."

"What do you mean?" she quizzed.

"Those guys I was with at the bar. Those three are vampires and a hybrid's somewhere around here. The four of them are my mates," I told her.

"J, four mates for a witch isn't good. It never ends well," she said. "And you're a Firelight. You're easily one of the most powerful witches to ever exists, even in your bloodline."

"Which is why I haven't told them what I am. You can't tell them either," I said. "They think Damien and I are mundanes."

"Okay, so I'll pretend to be a mundane," she nodded. "Got it." I looped my arm through hers and led her to the boys. Liam and his pack had joined Calum, Ashton, and Michael.

"Liam, do you remember Damien's girlfriend, Annette?" I asked.

"Of course," Liam smiled, giving Annette a hug.

"It's been a while. What? Was it last Halloween that I saw you?" she asked, pulling away. Liam nodded. "Damien told me about Dani, congrats."

"Thank you," Liam grinned. "Where have you been? Normally, you're at Damien's side."

"I just got back from Paris," she told him as Damien walked up between us. I felt him slip something in my back pocket before he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"That must've been a long flight," Michael said. I saw Liam fight back a laugh as Annette nodded. Annette's best powers are space and time, meaning she can travel from one place to another without a portal and she can freeze time.

"It was but I wouldn't miss one of J's Halloween parties for anything," she said.

"Wow. You really are the queen, huh?" Ashton asked.

"You have no idea. There's people over there from Sweden," Damien said.

"Oh, those are some of Mom's friends from one of her work trips," I told him. "They've been in town for a few days."

"Not to ruin the mood or anything, but I haven't seen Luke since after the confrontation with Jonathan," Niall said.

"I'll go try to find him," I announced before walking away from the group and towards the house. As I walked in, I pulled the paper from my back pocket and read it quickly:

Use a spell of protection around the house, one that keeps out anyone who means you ill will. I'll be home soon. Love you. -Mom

I threw it in the trash before I walked around the house, looking for Luke. I found him in the study sitting on one of the couches with his head in his hands.

"Are you okay?" I asked, slowly walking closer to him. He held one of his hands out to stop me so I stopped.

"Go away," he said, not looking up at me.

"You know, Calum told me about ya'll and why you don't like me," I told him. "Honestly, I don't blame you but that's no reason to miss a party as epic as this."

"That's not why I'm here," he stated. He looked up at me and his eyes were glowing a bright red color, which I knew happens to vampires when they need to feed.

"Oh," I mumbled. "Give me a second." I left the study and ran down to the basement. I opened one of the refrigerators and pulled out an O negative blood bag. I grabbed one of the whiskey glasses and pulled open the bag, pouring it in the glass before walking back upstairs to the study. "This should help." He looked between me and the glass in my hands.

"Why do you have a glass of blood?" he asked.

"With all the people I come across in this town, I have a variation of friends. This is good to keep on hand." I sat the glass on the table in front of him. "When you're ready, you're friends are looking for you." I left the room and walked back outside to the bar they were still standing at.

"Did you find him?" Ashton asked.

"Yeah," I nodded. "And I handled the situation."

"The situation?" Michael asked.

"J, ten till midnight," Damien told me. Liam grabbed my waist and helped me get on top of the bar as Damien turned down the music before he and Annette jumped on the bar on either side of me. Everyone turned to look at us and went quiet without us having to yell over them.

"Thank you all so much for coming tonight," Annette said, wrapping one of her arms around my waist and I wrapped one of mine around her waist.

"Halloween is a night where everyone gets to be themselves, humans and supernatural creatures alike. It's the night to celebrate our differences and embrace what makes us stand apart from everyone else," Damien told them as he wrapped his arm around my waist from the other side. I wrapped my other arm around his waist.

"As All Hallow's Eve comes to an end, we wish you all merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again. From our family to yours, blessed be!" I exclaimed.

"BLESSED BE!" everyone yelled as we did a small bow. Damien and Annette jumped off the bar and offered me their hands, which I took as I jumped down.

"That sounded witchy," Calum told me.

"I run a witchcraft shop," I shrugged. "Gotta stay on brand." He laughed.

Everyone was gone around one a.m. so the rest of us went inside. As Damien, Annette, Liam and his pack, and my mates made themselves comfortable in the living room, I went upstairs to my room and changed. I pulled my hair into a messy ponytail before changing into a pair of black leggings and a tank top. I went back downstairs and sat in the floor at the coffee table that had five elemental candles sitting on it. I noticed they were no longer burning.

"Should we light them?" Annette asked me. I looked at her.

"Why would you?" Ashton asked. "Aren't they elemental candles?"

"They are," I nodded. "Who blew them out?"

"What do you mean?" Harry quizzed.

"I lit them before the party," I told him. "They shouldn't have gone out."

"Wait, are you a witch?" Michael asked.

"No, but I do believe in asking the elements for help, like my family," I said. "Tonight, I asked for their protection."

"They were blown out when we got in here," Zayn told me.

"Damien, did you do it earlier tonight?" I asked. He shook his head.

"It would've had to have been done between the time of your speech and the time we sat down," Luke said. "They were still lit when I came back out there."

"So, they were blown out and we don't know if the person who did it thanked the elements or not," Annette mumbled. "Awful thing number three tonight." I nodded.

"We could relight them and send them away properly," Niall suggested.

"I wouldn't be against that but I'd need representatives," I told him.

"And the elements don't take to kindly to werewolves," Damien added.

"Oh, I have an idea," Annette said. "J called them in the first place and all four of her mates are here so let's use them." I sent her a death glare.

"You're the only person I told," I said through my teeth.

"Oops," she frowned.

"Hold up, mates?" Liam asked, looking at Luke.

"I'm not the one who told her," Luke shrugged.

"Calum did," Michael said.

"Dude!" Calum exclaimed, punching Michael's shoulder.

"Can this wait until after we properly dismiss the elements? I'd rather not have them angry with us longer than need be," Damien said, standing up.

"Where are you going?" Louis asked him.

"Outside. The best place for something like this," Damien told him.

"Right. Okay. Here." I handed Ashton the blue candle and Michael the green one. "Ashton, you'll be water. Go outside and find west. Michael, you'll stand in place of earth at true north." I handed Calum the yellow one and Luke the red one. "Calum, you'll represent air in the east and Luke, you'll be fire in the south."

"Hate to burst your bubble, but I don't know south from north," Luke told me. I sighed, grabbing the purple spirit candle and a box of matches.

"Follow me," I told them before walking outside the the back yard. "Michael, stand there." I pointed to the north as Annette pulled up a chair where I was. I sat my candle on it and turned to the east. "Calum, there." Calum took the place I pointed at and I turned again to face south. "Luke, you'll be there." He nodded and stood where I directed. I turned to Ashton, who had already completed the circle by standing in the west. He had an adorable smile on his face. "Ashton, you're perfect."

"Yay!" he grinned.

"Okay, so I'll light the candles then dismiss the elements. Once I dismiss your element, you'll blow out the candle. Understand?" I asked.

"Got it," Michael nodded.

"Yep," Calum agreed.

"Sounds good," Ashton smiled.

"This is stupid," Luke mumbled.

"I heard you and it's not. Trust me," I said as I struck a match and walked to Michael. As I lit the earth candle in his hands, I was able to smell the grass like it had been freshly cut. I looked at Michael.

"Do you smell that?" he asked.

"Earth likes you," I smiled before walking around the circle to Calum. "Ready?"

"Yeah," he nodded and I lit his air candle. I felt the wind blow through my ponytail quiet hard and watched as it rustled Calum's hair a bit but it didn't blow out the candle. "That's awesome."

"I know," I grinned and walked to Luke.

"Do I have to-" He stopped talking when the fire candle lit itself and it immediately got really warm around us. "What the hell?"

"Still think this is stupid?" I asked, walking to Ashton. I smiled at him as I lit the water candle he held. As soon as it was lit, I was able to hear the ocean and feel the waves hitting my feet.

"Wow," he breathed out. "Can you hear it?"

"I can," I nodded. As I walked to the center of the circle, I noticed there was a silvery white line floating in the air, connecting each of the boys. I made a mental note to look through some of my family's old grimoires to find out what that meant before lighting the spirit candle still sitting in the chair. Once it was lit, I got a tingly feeling up my spine.

I faced north once more before speaking. "Earth, thank you for your presence here tonight. I apologize for not properly dismissing you. You may go." Michael blew out his candle and I was no longer able to smell the freshly cut grass. The silver line between him and Calum and him and Ashton disappeared as well. I turned to Calum and spoke to the air. "Air, I thank you for your help here tonight. I apologize for not properly dismissing you. You may go." Just as Calum started to blow out his candle, it went out on it's own. With it, my hair stopped being blown around and the line between Calum and Luke vanished. I turned to look at Luke, who still seemed wary of the whole thing. "Fire, thank you for the protection you provided tonight. I apologize for not properly dismissing you. You may go." Once Luke blew out his candle, I got a little cold and the line between him and Ashton was gone. I turned to Ashton with a smile. "Water, I thank you for the safety you brought into my home tonight. I apologize for not properly dismissing you. You may go." Ashton blew out his candle and I was no longer able to hear the ocean or feel the waves. I picked up the spirit candle and looked to the sky as I spoke. "Spirit, thank you for allowing the happiness to flow from one person to the next. I apologize for not properly dismissing you. You may go." I blew out my candle and smiled at the sky.

"That was so cool!" Louis exclaimed as we all walked inside. The boys sat their candles on the coffee table and I arranged them in the respective spots before sitting on the couch between Ashton and Calum.

"I've never seen a circle like that," Harry stated.

"At least, the elements are happy with us," Michael smiled as my cat walked in the room. She looked at all of the people before jumping into my lap and laying down. I ran my fingers through her soft, white fur.

"Who's this?" Ashton asked, reaching out to pet her. She hissed loudly at him and he pulled his hand back quickly.

"This is Snow," I told him.

"Snow doesn't like anyone except J," Damien said. "I've been her friend since we were kids and Snow still won't let me pet her."

"How old is she?" Calum quizzed.

"Seven," I lied. Truth be told, Snow is twenty-one, like me. She's my familiar and she won't die until I do. A familiar is a companion a witch gets at birth. A familiar takes a shape of an animal but is actually something created by a coven at a witch's birth to keep them company and offer protection. Most familiars do well with other people/supernatural creatures but Snow doesn't seem to care for anyone but me. She doesn't like Damien, Annette, my mom, or other witches in our coven. She certainly doesn't like Liam and his pack, normally she doesn't come around if they're in the room.

"Guys, it's getting late," Liam said. "We should go to the hotel."

"You're more than welcome to stay here," I told him. "There's a room for each of you and it's a lot homier than a hotel."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yeah, of course," I nodded. "Damien and Annette are in the room opposite of mine but the rest are empty."

"What time do you have to be at the shop tomorrow?" Harry quizzed.

"I'm have the morning shift and Damien has the afternoon," I said.

"No, you should hang out with them before they go," Damien told me. "Annette and I will work the shop." I looked between the two of them. Damien was sitting on the ground with his back against the hearth of the fireplace and Annette was resting against his side. Damien's arm was thrown around Annette's shoulders and she was almost asleep.

"How about none of us go in?" I suggested.

"An off day would be nice, considering the last one we had was, like, two months ago," Damien nodded.

"So, it's settled. We'll all go to breakfast at the café down the street from the shop," Niall said.

"I'm out on that one. I'm sleeping in," I told him.

"Meaning she might be up by dinner time," Annette said sleepily. Everyone, except Luke, laughed. Liam and his pack called their rooms and went up the stairs, followed closely by Damien and Annette. I led Luke, Michael, Calum, and Ashton to the rooms they would be staying in.

"Are you going to bed?" Michael asked me.

"No," I shook my head. "I'll be in the study for another hour or so and my room's that one if you need anything." I pointed to the door at the end of the hallway.

Taglist:

@lukeshemmo @hybrid137 @liati2000

[agameforgoodchristians]

Altar Sex (Amos 2:8) [A Guest Card Talk]

Note: this Guest Card Talk is connected to our other card talk on the Book of Amos.

“The closest I ever came to having sex was right after prayer.”

For many young adults, this observation would serve as a catalyst for a more active prayer life, but for us pious young men at a Christian college, this advice from a graduating senior served as a warning. Intimacy is risky and dangerous and, if you’re not careful, you’ll end up in the wrong holy of holies.

Recent examinations of Christianity’s approach to sexuality have been rather damning with their criticism and deconstruction, from extensive exposes on various church-related sexual abuse scandals, to full-throated takedowns of “evangelical purity culture.” Even the patron saint of courtship, Joshua Harris, has kissed “kissing dating goodbye” goodbye.

But despite Christianity’s well-published and long-running anxiety about all things sex, historical records seem to indicate that few religious traditions are exempt from such tension. The sacred and the sexual may be uncomfortable bedfellows, but they sure can’t be accused of not trying. Long before Augustine began ruminating about the sinful superpowers of semen, fertility cults from Baal to Dionysus were planting their seeds in every known religion. Even texts found within the Hebrew Scriptures - such as Song of Songs - have been known to arouse more than pious hearts.

Which brings us to Amos, the lonely shepherd of Tekoa. In Amos 6:1-7, the prophet makes explicit reference to a marzeah, a cultic ritual attested to widely throughout the Fertile Crescent and beyond. While the origins of the term remain a mystery, widespread attestation across cultures paints a rather consistent picture of marzeahs as cultic festivals that centered on feasting and drinking, sexual lasciviousness, and were often connected to funerary rites. Sort of like an ancient Mardi Gras.

The word itself only appears twice in the Hebrew Scriptures—also in Jeremiah 16:5, with possible allusions in Ezekiel 8:7-13 and Isaiah 28:1-6—but also seems to influence Amos’ earlier criticisms of the northern kingdom of Israel in Amos 2:6-8:

Thus says the Lord:

“For three transgressions of Israel, and, for four, I will not revoke the punishment, because they sell the righteous for silver, and the needy for a pair of sandals - those who trample the head of the poor into the dust of the earth and turn aside the way of the afflicted; a man and his father go in to the same girl, so that my holy name is profaned; they lay themselves down beside every altar on garments taken in pledge, and in the house of their God they drink the wine of those who have been fined.”

There is certainly a temptation here to clutch our pearls at the mere mention of the mingling of altar pieces and body parts. At first blush, Amos’ denunciations wouldn’t seem out of place at a True Love Waits rally. In fact, this passage may even be listed as a Scripture reference on a youth lock-in “covenant agreement.”

Curiously, however, Amos does not seem to condemn such celebrations on their own merits. Rather, Amos’ concerns are primarily with the desecrating division that has devolved religious practice into social exploitation. The ritual has not only superseded the ethical, but been financed by the unethical. In short, the perpetrators have developed a “celebration of discipline” that divorces love of God from love of neighbor (well, some neighbors), a concern most famously expressed in his diatribe against such an unholy division in Amos 5.

Unlike standard prophetic polemics against pagan religious practice, Amos turns his tirade toward Jewish observances specifically endorsed by the Law - festivals (specifically, the hagim prescribed in Exodus 23:15-16), burnt offerings, grain offerings, and fellowship offerings (as prescribed in Leviticus 1-3), and even music. Of particular note is the way the relationship of these ritual practices and acts of justice are structured in relationship to each other. At the foot of Sinai, Moses follows up God’s Greatest Hits (the “10 Commandments”) with a variety of B-sides and album filler material about compensation for knocked-out teeth and singed thorn bushes. Following an extended rumination on property rights, Moses then delivers a robust set of commandments that some Bibles helpfully label as “Social Responsibility” or “Laws of Justice and Mercy,” focusing on the treatment of widows, orphans and aliens, including words that should sound awfully familiar to anyone paying attention to Amos:

“If you lend money to one of my people among you who is needy, do not be like a moneylender; charge him no interest. If you take your neighbor’s cloak as a pledge, return it to him by sunset, because his cloak is the only covering he has for his body. What else will he sleep in? When he cries out to me, I will hear, for I am compassionate.” (Exodus 22:25-27)

Then, and only then, does Moses finally get around to some brief directives on ritual celebrations. For Moses - followed closely here by Amos—the priority is clear: Justice First. Ritual Second. No Justice, No Peace (Offering). In contrast, Amos only finds people who have become experts in ritual and flunked the final exam of righteousness.

Taken collectively, Amos’ striking denunciations of Israelite practices in chapters 2-6 point directly toward a wealthy class whose conspicuous religious consumption was made possible only through exploitation (which, not surprisingly, appears to have been an attribute of marzeahs in other cultures, as well). In addition to the detailed criticisms listed in 2:6-8 and 6:1-7, notice also the following accusations leveled by Amos:

“They do not know how to do right . . . who hoard plunder and loot in their fortresses.” (3:10)

“You women who oppress the poor and crush the needy / and say to your husbands, ‘Bring us some drinks!’” (4:1)

“You trample on the poor / and force him to give you grain.” (5:11)

As one notable prophet would later observe, the house of prayer had been turned into a den of robbers.

The Kentucky poet Wendell Berry has consistently lamented the way Christianity has divorced spiritual and material realities, reflecting a lively Gnosticism-by-another-name habitating inside America’s pulpits and pews. Most memorable perhaps is the following sentiment expressed in “How to be a Poet”:

“There are no unsacred places; There are only sacred places And desecrated places.”

Just a wee bit south of Berry, another Appalachian poet was learning this truth in her own characteristically eccentric way. In the tiny Tennessee community of Caton’s Chapel, a young Dolly Parton found “God, music, and sex” coexisting in a small abandoned country church that offered both spiritual and sexual resonance to the developing saint. Between the walls adorned with hand drawn testimonies of youthful sexual escapades and the discarded keys and strings that gave birth to sacred melodies, Parton recalls, she “broke through some sort of spirit wall and found God,” even as she simultaneously experienced an epiphany of sexuality and self-identity. Perhaps taking Berry a step further, Parton offers her witness that even seemingly desecrated places can be sites of sacral revelation.

And none of this would surprise Amos.

Amos does not fear that the sacred has been tainted by the sexual. On the contrary, recognizing the sacredness of both the dwelling of God’s name and the abode of God’s image, what raises the prophet’s ire is that both have been desecrated by the diminishment of the flesh. In the degrading of bodies through exploitation, economic indifference, and greed, Amos writes, what should be a holy celebration has been transformed into a parade of unrighteousness.

To blend the vision of Berry, Parton, and Amos, we might say:

There are no desecrated places; Only sacred people, And desecrated people.

Dave McNeely is the Coordinator for the Faith & Justice Scholars Program and an Adjunct Religion Professor at Carson-Newman University in Jefferson City. He is a licensed Baptist minister who spent a decade in youth ministry, and has an undergraduate degree in Religion (Greek minor) from Carson-Newman, an M.Div. with specialization in Christian Education from Baptist Theological Seminary at Richmond, and additional study in Justice and Peace Studies at Iliff School of Theology. He was a contributor to A Game for Good Christian’s anthology This Present Former Glory and recently co-authored his first book, Chad and Dave Read the Bible, Vol. 1: The Christmas Story.

[sohannabarberaesque]

You’ll never guess what explains why Snagglepuss IS Snagglepuss, to begin with--

So let’s begin at the beginning, so to speak: “Heavens to Betsy ... to Murgatroyd, even! I must have to acknowledge that I am what I am because, for the most part, circumstances at a very young age--as in my parents being sold off to some zoo in Cincinnati--or was it Richmond? The which, at any rate, exposed me to considerable risk of exploitation from one Major Minor, who as I understand it was under orders from the Adventurers’ Club to capture and mount my kind at any cost....”

Would it be safe to say that your sophistication, or tendencies thereto, are a sort of release mechanism? “I should say so; after all, it’s been said that if you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bull. It’s that simple, need I say more? Although I must admit that fixing a halfway-decent martini on rather limited means can be daunting when the gin you use is rather cheap, and actually tastes as much.”

But at least your experiences with Yogi Bear’s crew were something of a game-changer: “I admit it was just something I played along with at the time ... so was the hosting detail on Laff-a-Lympics alongside a certain Mildew Wolf. That last one, I have to admit, developing into something of an amusing little interrelationship when it comes to producing the documentary film record, you might say, of our several Character Convocations ... which can be especially obvious when we review the finished product, so to speak, in some remarkable simulation of the late lamented Nosseck’s Screening Room.”

Speaking of said Character Convocations-- “I have to admit it all started on a casual little lark with Huckleberry Hound (I assume you’re well-acquainted with him) recalling the salad days, in a way, of the Truth or Consequences Fiesta back when Ralph Edwards would bring emerging Hollywood talent over to the former Hot Springs, New Mexico--renamed Truth or Consequences, remember, in tribute to the radio, and later TV, game show Edwards created--to celebrate the remaning thereof ... and imagining how many of us fellow Funtastic characters would come over in a spirit of good-natured friendship coincident with the actual Fiesta weekend. “Which seems to have worked big time ... and have been repeated several times, coincident with some of the more interesting examples of festivals across America ... such as the Steamboat Springs Winter Carnival ... the Minneapolis Aquatennial ... Wo-Zha-Wa in Wisconsin Dells ... Catalina Island’s Avalon Harbour Underwater Cleanup ... the Moxie Festival in Lisbon, Maine ... even Mardi Gras in Mobile, Alabama, where it first originated in the United States, even before there was New Orleans, mind you! Right down to parade appearences of a largely ‘meet-and-greet’ sort, which is especially the case with the Hair Bear Bunch. That Invisible Motorbike of theirs might be seen as posing a serious problem or two, so what the ursine trio will do is go walkabout and mingle with the audience. Pose for selfies, even!”

Have you any particular festivals that you would consider hosting Character Convocations at, come to think of it? “Have I? Have I?! There seems to be plenty of interesting, though at times predictable, summer and winter festivals as can provide opportunities for us of The Funtastic World of Hanna-Barbera to as much get together for old time’s sake as to cross paths with fans old and new, and this includes The Banana Splits--the Cattanooga Cats, even! “A couple such I can picture us being at for Character Convocation ends would have to be Bridge Day at West Virginia’s New River Gorge Bridge, the highest steel-arch span in the world ... and with quite the drop attracting BASE jumpers, hang gliders even, with a spectacular view into the aforesaid New River Gorge--doesn’t that name sound like quite the double take? “Equally interesting would be the Mackinac Bridge Walk over the Straits of Mackinac on Labour Day ... imagine, all of seven miles between the two parts of Michigan ... maybe even the Clay County Fair in Spencer, Iowa, a typically American county fair, come to think of it....”

So how would you and Huck choose the festivals you’d want to see Character Convocations at? “We try to look for such specimens of community festivals as are esoterically interesting, some of them the sort which would have attracted their share of celebrities in an earlier time--as witness the inspiration of the Truth or Consequences Fiesta for our first such a few years back. Not to mention offering interesting potential for the usual documentary video, if you know whereof I mean.”

Would you say, to use a T-shirt meme, that your tastes are simple, as in choosing only the best? “Guilty as charged. Consider such as part of my defensive mechanism, you might say.”

In deference to the Thanksgiving weekend, next week will see no Fanfic Friday in this space. Look for the next such in two weeks’ time; i.e., December 4th.

@warnerarchive @hanna-barbera-land @warnerbrosentertainment @moonrock1973 @themineralyoucrave @hanna-barberians @cottoncandy-wannabe @wherearethememesonmyplate @hanna-barbera-blog @screamingtoosoftly @jg376

[pamphletstoinspire]

Shrove Tuesday in Quinquagesima Week

Shrove Tuesday is the last day of what traditionally was called “Shrovetide,” the week preceding the beginning of Lent. The word itself, Shrovetide, is the English equivalent for “Carnival,” which is derived from the Latin words carnem levare, meaning “to take away the flesh.” (Note that in Germany, this period is called “Fasching,” and in parts of the United States, particularly Louisiana, “Mardi Gras.”) While this was seen as the last chance for merriment, and, unfortunately in some places, has resulted in excessive pleasure, Shrovetide was the time to cast off things of the flesh and to prepare spiritually for Lent. 

The English term “shrovetide” (from “to shrive”, or hear confessions) is sufficiently explained by a sentence in the Anglo-Saxon “Ecclesiastical Institutes” translated from Theodulphus by Abbot Aelfric about A.D. 1000: “In the week immediately before Lent everyone shall go to his confessor and confess his deeds and the confessor shall so shrive him as he then may hear by his deeds what he is to do [in the way of penance]”.

In this name shrovetide the religious idea is uppermost, and the same is true of the German Fastnacht(the eve of the fast). It is intelligible enough that before a long period of deprivations human nature should allow itself some exceptional licence in the way of frolic and good cheer. No appeal to vague and often inconsistent traces of earlier pagan customs seems needed to explain the general observance of a carnival celebration. The only clear fact which does not seem to be adequately accounted for is the widespread tendency to include the preceding Thursday (called in French Jeudi gras and in German fetter Donnerstag — just as Shrove Tuesday is respectively called Mardi gras and fetter Dienstag) with the Monday and Tuesday which follow Quinquagesima. 

Shrovetide is traditionally the time for “spring cleaning,” and just as we clean our houses in these days in prepation for Lent, we also “clean our souls” through confession so we can enter the penitential season fresh.

Shrovetide is the last two days of “Carnival,” an unofficial period that began after the Epiphany and which takes its name from the Latin carnelevare, referring to the “taking away of flesh” (meat) during Lent which begins on Ash Wednesday, the day following Shrove Tuesday. Catholics want to eat while they can and get the frivolity out of their systems in preparation for the somber Lenten spirit to come.

The Tuesday of Shrovetide is a particularly big party day known as “Mardi Gras” (French for “Fat Tuesday”) — or “Pancake Tuesday” because fats, eggs, and butter in the house had to be used up before Lent began, and making pancakes or waffles was a good way to do it. In many places, especially in England, pancake races became popular and remain popular today. In these races, women must run while flipping a pancake so many times, and whoever crosses the finish line first wins. The largest pancake race in England is in Olney, in Buckinghamshire. There, the women must wear a dress, apron, and bonnet, and flip the pancake three times — while ensuring it is intact after they cross the finish line, of course. The story told to explain the origins of this race is that in 1445, a homemaker heard the shriving bell (the bell rung to summon people to confession on this day) as she was busy working in her kitchen. Not wanting to be late, she rushed about and ran off with her skillet still in hand. 

by Abbe Dom Prosper Gueranger

The fundamental rule of Christian life is, as almost every page of the Gospel tells us, that we should live out of the world, separate ourselves from the world, hate the world. The world is that ungodly land which Abraham, our sublime model, is commanded by God to quit. It is that Babylon of our exile and captivity, where we are beset with dangers. The beloved disciple cries out to us: ‘Love not the world, nor the things which are in the world. If any man love the world, the charity of the Father is not in him.'– {St. John ii. 15} Our most merciful Jesus, at the very time when He was about to offer Himself as a sacrifice for all men, spoke these words: ‘I pray not for the world.– {Ibid. xvii: 9) When we were baptized, and were signed with the glorious and indelible and were signed with the glorious and indelible character of Christians, the condition required of us, and accepted, was that we should renounce the works and pomps of the world (which we expressed under the name of Satan); and this solemn baptismal promise we have often renewed.

But what is the meaning of our promise to renounce the world? Is it that we cannot be Christians, unless we flee into the desert and separate ourselves from our fellow-creatures? Such cannot be God's will for all, since, in that same Scripture, wherein He commands us to flee from the world, He also tells us what are our duties to each other, and sanctions and blesses those ties which He Himself has willed should exist among us. His apostle, also, tells us to use this world as though we did not use it. – {1 Corinthians vii: 31} It is not, therefore, forbidden us to live in, and to use the world. Then, what means this renouncing the world? Can there be contradiction in God's commandments? Is it possible that we are condemned to wander blindly on the brink of a precipice, into which we must at last inevitably fall?

There is neither contradiction nor snare. If by the world, we mean these visible things around us which God created in His power and goodness; if we mean this outward world, which He made for His own glory and our benefit; it is worthy of it a ladder whereby our souls may ascend to their God. Let us gratefully use this world; go through it, without making it the object of our hope; not waste upon it that love, which God alone deserves; and ever be mindful, that we are not made for this, but for another and a happier, world.

But the majority of men are not thus prudent in their use of the world. Their hearts are fixed upon it, and not upon Heaven. Hence it was, that when the Creator deigned to come into this world, in order that He might save it, the world knew Him not.-{St. John I: 10} Men were called after the name of the object of their love. They shut their eyes to the light; they became darkness; God calls them ‘the world.'

In this sense, then, the world is everything that is opposed to our Lord Jesus Christ, that refuses to recognize Him, and that resists His divine guidance. Those false maxims which tend to weaken the love of God in our souls; which recommended the vanities that fasten our hearts to this present life; which cry down everything that can raise us above our weaknesses or vices; which decoy and gratify our corrupt nature by dangerous pleasures, which, far from helping us to the attainment of our last end, only mislead us-all these are ‘the world.'

This world is everywhere, and holds a secret league within our very hearts. Sin has brought it into this exterior world created by God for Himself, and has given it prominence. Now, we must conquer it, and trample upon it, or we shall perish with it. There is no being neutral; we must be its enemies, or its slaves. During these three days, its triumphs are fearful; and thousands of those who, at their Baptism, swore eternal enmity to it, are enrolling themselves its votaries. Let us pray for them; but let us also tremble for ourselves; and that our courage may not fail us, let us ponder those consoling words, which our Savior, at His last Supper, addressed to His eternal Father. He is speaking of His disciples, and He says: ‘Father! I have given them Thy word, and the world hath hated them, because they are not of the world, as I also am not of the world. I pray not, that Thou shouldst take them out of the world, but that Thou shouldst keep them from evil'– {St. John xvii: 14, 15}. 

[mittensmorgul]

i want to enjoy those pics of jensen but tbh how is bacchus in a us thing not cultural appropriation & disrespectful to modern pagans??

So you know how a lot of Christian Holiday Traditions were born out of Roman Festivals in order to make Christianity more appealing as a religion the people of that time? Yeah, what we celebrate now as Mardi Gras (or Carnival in cities like Rio de Janeiro, and under various names around the world) is the Christian Shrove Tuesday, the day before Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent.

For non-Christians, Lent is a period of fasting symbolizing the 40 days Jesus spent in the desert resisting the lure of the devil. So for those 40 days, Christians are supposed to deprive themselves of anything that causes joy, to better understand the suffering and trials that Jesus went through while avoiding temptation in the desert.

The period leading up to Lent therefore became a time of excess, indulging in every temptation, as it were... but is also closely linked with the Roman holiday of Saturnalia, and the festivities surrounding Mardi Gras, and the Shrovetide, historically sprung from those Roman roots.

I’m gonna mention here that I am not a historian, nor am I a modern pagan, nor am I a practicing Christian, though I was raised Catholic and this is how it was always explained to me.

So yes, it is literally cultural appropriation. But that happened more than 2000 years ago.

If you actually want a response from a modern pagan on how they feel about this, then you should probably ask one. But this is not a new thing, and has been going on in the spirit of celebration and fun for a few hundred years in New Orleans. I really really do not need to open a discourse on this subject on this blog, since I don’t have a horse in this race. You are literally the first person ever to suggest to me that there was anything other than celebratory joy intended with the celebration of Mardi Gras...

[neopolitan-noir]

Do all the cute asks 😡😡😡

1. who was the last person you sent a text to? you

2. who was the last person you said ‘I love you’ to? Spell

3. favourite type of weather? Sunny!!!

4. what’s your zodiac sign? do you relate to it? Virgo sun, Libra moon. I think I more relate to my moon but yeah lol

5. showers or baths? showers for solo, baths for partners

6. favourite movie? (outside of mcu) ok. Treasure Planet, Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron, Hunchback of Notre Dame, Jumper, Sound of Music, Road to El Dorado....i could go on

7. favourite colour? mix between black, pink, purple, red and orange lol

8. person your closest to in your family? Birthgiver

9. last movie you watched? uuuuhhhhhhhhh the original broadway production of Into the Woods I think?

10. show you’re currently binging? It’s a livestream show, but, Critical Role Campaign 2

11. what’s your lockscreen? some beautiful art of a woman with fire magic

12. f*ck, marry, kill (pick three people)  ???????

13. opinion on...     ?????????

14. a celebrity you hate? I don’t HATE many people but I don’t care much for Taylor Swift?

15. a celebrity you love? Zendaya Coleman is my fucking hero

16. a character you relate to the most? Lup from TAZ i guess?

17. someone you’re looking forward to seeing? uh you, ya dingus

18. what does the last text you sent say? It’s literally the ‘Okay’ finger emoji

19. do you believe in true love? Yes

20. have you ever been in love? YES

21. if your ex texted you now how would you react? ....Bitch <3

22. baths or showers? yes

23. summer or winter? SUMMER

24. favourite memory from this year? (so far) uuuuuuhhhhhhhh meeting Salem for the first time?

25. favourite food? Pasta!!!! Cheesecake!!!!

26. put your music on shuffle and say the line you like most in the song::::::::  

27. last book you read? I think it was a Dresden book???

28. can you sleep if there’s noise? depends on how tired I am

29. bad habits? SO MANY.

30. one regret you have? ....so many

31. one bad thing that happened that worked out in the end? uh *gestures to myself*

32. earliest memory? Birthgiver running over a rabbit on the way to drop me off at daycare????

33. what do you want to do when you leave school? *work and SLEEP

34. what’s stressing you out right now? Work, re learning how to fucking dance again to a level that’s acceptable.

35. ever been drunk or high? drunk and idk if the weed i smoked took because i was fucking coughing up a lung

36. favourite type of clothing? crop tops???

37. most expensive thing you’ve ever bought? This apartment

38. give me a song and I’ll tell you who it reminds me of (character or real person)  ???????

39. who do you miss right now? Rose mostly

40. have any siblings? are you close to them? two chosen siblings and I love them VERY MUCH

41. tumblr friends or irl friends? this question is a fucking joke lol

42. do you want kids? uh yeah actually

43. do you want to get married? I never wanted to before(you know that) but y’know...

44. describe your dream girl/boy.    ??????

45. one place you’d love to visit? anywhere in Europe

46. what’s on your bucket list? Mardi Gras, I guess we still have to go on that haunted road trip huh?, travel outside of this country

47. are you outgoing or shy? yes

48. one piece of advice you live by? Difficult and Impossible are cousins often mistaken for each other, with very little in common.

49. how tall are you? 5′7″ i guess?

Thankssomuch for asking

[dunnahoocountry]

Laissez les bons temps rouler

I typically love this time of the year. The tension of the holidays is gone and you can start focusing on sunnier times. The idea of spring is lovely especially in Central Texas. The weather is perfect and ideal and you don’t have to worry about the summer perspiration just yet. Most importantly for me you have Mardi Gras to think about.  Despite being raised in New Mexico and living in an area that isn’t traditionally associated with Fat Tuesday, the culture does have an influence in Austin. For instance, you can go to supermarkets and buy king cakes and people, presumably with Louisiana roots, will put Mardi Gras flags and banners on their front porches.  As a man who admires the city of New Orleans, I try my best to bring this spirit to people who aren’t accustomed to getting day drunk in the middle of a work week. To that, I’ve always had some kind of Mardi Gras celebration. I make a gumbo, serve cocktails and cold beer, red beans and rice, fried oyster po boys,  etc. In addition, I play records associated with New Orleans, ranging from brass bands to Mardi Gras Indian funk to bounce. I also have Les Blank’s love letter to New Orleans Always for Pleasure on a near 24 hour loop.

Sadly, this year, I don’t know if this will happen.  I think about the love I have for New Orleans and the aspects of why I love it. To me, I feel like it’s an alternate version of America: everything America could have been. If you really examine everything about the city, from the history to the road structure to the geology, it stands alone. You can’t compare it to the American South, you can’t compare it to Europe, you can’t compare it to the Caribbean or any country in Africa. It sits on an island that is slowly sinking into the polluted Gulf of Mexico and remains beautiful. I think about the people smiling in the streets, sipping cans of cold beer, partying, and not worrying about the complexities of existence in the beautiful February fog of southeastern Louisiana.   But if you look closer you start to see the cracks and I begin to understand what my relationship to this great city really stems from: booze. Yes, you can walk the streets of the city with an open container. Yes, there is probably a bar or a liquor store on every container. Yes, there is no last call. Yes, you won’t be judged for your alcoholism. I implore my research and obsession for this city comes from a genuine place, but I can’t deny that the foundation of my fascination of New Orleans is based on my love affair with booze. 

So what then? 

I don’t want to be one of those old bastards that Anthony Bourdain admired who goes into a bar every day and speaks wistfully about life. I’d rather just be a man who doesn’t need silly things like bars, records, or mustaches to define himself. It’s been hard for me to let go. I work at a place that routinely gives out free drinks and I work with a staff of wonderful people: it’s irresistible not to talk about work over a stiff beer with the kind of work community I’m lucky enough to be a part of. 

Anyway, I’m being hard on myself. I’m not what you would call a problematic drinker. I don’t act out, I don’t make a fool of myself, I don’t get sad, angry, or belligerent, etc. But who am I kidding? I’m physically hurting myself with this, and I’m at a unique age. 34 isn’t exactly young but it isn’t old either. You still have time to raise a family if that’s what you want. Personally, I’d love to have a child some day. I know I’m intellectually and emotionally ready for one. I know I’d make a great father as well. But when will the flow of booze stop? Without question, it’s all up to me and my decision making. 

I don’t mean to make this a blog about alcoholism but I’m coming to terms with a lot in my life right now and I’m ready to make sacrifices and changes. I hope you won’t find this blog as a let down. I promise I will make funny jokes and throw in some green chile references sooner or later but right now I need time!

Don’t fear for me, though, pals. I am a resilient man. When all is said and done, I’m really just pissed the Saints lost. 

[moma]

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"Painting for me lies in the pure pleasure of invention,” Francis Picabia wrote in 1927.

“Working on the Picabia exhibition even led to my own inventions! Here I am in my hand-painted costume inspired by the artist's designs for his Relâche dancers. Everything is more fun when you're wearing dots!"

Francis Picabia curatorial assistant Talia Kwartler shows us just how easy it is to get in the Arty Gras spirit! Join us tomorrow night, Sunday 2/26, when PopRally brings the ultimate Mardi Gras celebration to MoMA with live music by High & Mighty Brass Band, custom masks by Damien Davis, open bar, and some good old plain fun. Costumes welcome. Get tickets here.

[phgq]

Baguio kids welcome start of Christmas season

#PHnews: Baguio kids welcome start of Christmas season

BAGUIO CITY -- Pre-school kids aged 2-5 years old paraded along Session and Harrison Roads on Sunday for the annual Children's Mardi Gras which is the kick-off event of the "Silahis ng Pasko" here.

"This is the day for the kids, our way of giving them the spirit of Christmas, which is of course for them," said City Social Welfare and Development Officer (CSWDO) Betty Fangasan in her welcome address.

Children and their parents donned Christmas outfits such as Santa Claus, shepherds, angels, the wise men, Christmas balls, and cards, among others.

Fangasan said the event signals the start of the annual Christmas in Baguio celebration.

The festivity was a commemoration of sorts to the founder of the Silahis ng Pasko Narciso Padilla, a former city councilor and tourism officer, who started the program in 1973.

"This is an auspicious start and I guess my dad will be happy to see that we did nothing that is not to his liking. Or else, I would be having nightmares now," said Fritz Gerald Padilla, the 50-year-old son who took over the running of the program after the elder Padilla passed away last March 3.

The program was started by the late Padilla while he was the city tourism officer and held as a partnership project with the National Correspondents Club of Baguio where he is founding president and the CSWDO.

"I am grateful to the CSWDO for the partnership my father forged with them in running the event and the various projects under the Silahis program," Padilla said.

"There will be some changes in the near future, this is just our initial salvo and we were in the dark on how to run the event and the other projects under the Silahis program," he added.

The new program chair was with his mother Consuelo, his wife Leah and four of his children, the two eldest practically grew up as Silahis babies.

His son Jeremy sang a doxology with her classmates from Phases Learning Center, a constant participant in the annual event.

"My dad has called it as mardi gras, since they are attired, though in Christmas, unlike those held in New Orleans (Louisiana, USA) who celebrate the day prior to the start of the Lenten season. This is the oldest celebration in the city, long before we had the Panagbenga or any festival. Even the name is so 70-ish," Padilla said.

Padilla said critics bash the organizer on social media for coining words that are "out of date", including the term mardi gras. 

"But this was started in 1973 when silahis would mean a ray of light of providing hope to the less fortunate, meaning the indigent and the people with disabilities. That is why our next activities are gearing towards that," Padilla said.

On December 7 and 8, the Lucky Christmas Families will be selected and will be given a two-day red carpet treatment - city tours, overnight stay in a local hotel, a mass at the Shrine of the Brown Madonna in Tuba, Benguet, a lunch and a Christmas package.

On December 15, it will be a day for persons with disabilities (PWDs) with a special Olympics at Session Road where they will have games with prizes, meals from groups who set up soup kitchens, grooming, and noche buena packages.

On December 22, the annual share a joy component will take Padilla and crew to the Baguio General Hospital for gift giving to sick children.

On December 25, there will be a search for the Christmas Baby who will receive a noche buena package and other gifts, while a similar search will be made on New Year's Day.

On December 30, outstanding elderlies and athletes in the TALA and KISLAP awards will be honored. 

A thanksgiving mass will also be held at the Shrine of Brown Madonna.

"My father's legacies are the Silahis and the Shrine, which he built in a cave that was once barren, now it has become a sort of pilgrimage. The shrine is a work in progress the past 33 years and it will always be a part of the Silahis preparation," Padilla said. (PNA)

***

References:

* Philippine News Agency. "Baguio kids welcome start of Christmas season." Philippine News Agency. https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1087616 (accessed December 02, 2019 at 06:15PM UTC+14).

* Philippine News Agency. "Baguio kids welcome start of Christmas season." Archive Today. https://archive.ph/?run=1&url=https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1087616 (archived).

[onthegoinmco]

With the impending closures of the theme parks in Orlando, I am sad to say that this will be my last On the Go in the Parks this month.

My sincerest thoughts are with everyone impacted by these closures, and my prayers are that we all look back on this time in the future and see that it could have been worse if these drastic measures hadn’t been taken. 

Don’t forget to tune in to News 96.5 WDBO this evening to hear me talk about these events and more on Orlando’s Evening News with Tony Marino!!!

On the Go in the Parks: New this Weekend

The Mighty St. Patrick’s Day Festival at Raglan Road 

Get out your finest green outfit and head to Disney Springs for the return of the Mighty St. Patrick’s Festival at Raglan Road Irish Pub & Restaurant! 

Celebrate five days of fun, March 13-17, with non-stop Irish-infused entertainment from morning until night, a mighty selection of beers and cocktails and of course, the most authentic Irish food.

My favorite part of the Mighty St. Patrick’s Festival is the fantastic line-up of live entertainment hand-picked straight from Ireland.

On the Go in the Parks: Returning Favorites

Universal Orlando Mardi Gras

Universal Orlando is celebrating 25 years of its family-friendly Mardi Gras festivities with new parade floats, globally inspired cuisine, and live concerts on select nights from February 1 to April 2 at the Universal Studios Florida theme park.

This year’s parade features six new additional floats and steps-off at 7:45 pm on Saturday and Sunday.

On select nights during the event, guests can enjoy performances by some of the biggest names in music on the Universal Music Plaza Stage.

This weekend you can see:

Friday, Mar. 13 – Luis Fonsi @ 8:30 pm

Saturday, Mar. 14 – The All-American Rejects @ 8:30 pm

Sunday, Mar. 15 – Diana Ross @ 8:30 pm

Opening daily at 4 pm, the French Quarter Courtyard is where you can find food and spirits available for purchase and performances from Louisiana jazz, blues, and zydeco bands. You can see the New Breed Brass Band will take to the French Quarter Courtyard Stage daily until March 21.

All of the excitement of Universal Orlando’s Mardi Gras celebration is included with admission to Universal Studios Florida or with a Seasonal or Annual Pass (blockout dates apply).

And until April 2, Florida residents can experience this year’s Mardi Gras celebration and the spring season by saving up to $65 on multi-day tickets and up to $75 on Seasonal and Annual Passes.

EPCOT International Flower and Garden Festival 

The 27th Epcot International Flower and Garden Festival will bloom at the Walt Disney World Resort filling the park with the sights, sounds, and flavors of Spring daily until June 1, 2020. 

The popular Garden Rocks Concert Series will rock every evening of the Festival with three performances by chart-topping artists on the America Gardens Theatre stage. 

Here is who you can see perform this weekend:

March 13 through 16: Simple Plan

The Epcot International Flower and Garden Festival is included with your theme park admission.

Seven Seas Food Festival @ SeaWorld Orlando 

In 2020 the Seven Seas Food Festival will runs weekends through May 5, including Fridays (WOOOOT), to give park-goers plenty more chances to sample more than 180 mouthwatering options from Chef Héctor Colón and his amazing culinary team!

New food offerings include the cricket crusted bison slider, duck and mushroom ramen bowl and the chicken and waffle. 

Enjoy local craft beers and mouthwatering culinary flavors while exploring our marketplaces throughout the park. 

In addition to delicious eats, guests visiting SeaWorld’s Seven Seas Food Festival can enjoy world-class entertainment every Saturday and Sunday at Bayside Stadium, all included with theme park admission. 

This weekend the Seven Seas Food Festival will feature free concerts from:

March 14 – Hunter Hayes

March 15 – Joe Nichols

You can find more information about theme park news and tips by subscribing to our YouTube Channel and following @onthegoinmco on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram!

Follow us for more updates:

The post On the Go in the Parks: March 13- 15, 2020 appeared first on On the Go in MCO.

[monicalorandavis]

Hello Kitty Friends Around the World Tour is my Shenyun

I didn’t know that when my sister asked me a month ago if I could make it to a Sanrio event on Wednesday, October 16th at 2pm that she was inviting me to the promised land. But I am now a different person than I was yesterday. Today, I’m a sweet, childlike being full of wonderment and joy. Thank you, Hello Kitty. Thank you.

The Hello Kitty Friends Around the World Tour is not to be missed. Please buy tickets if you can attend it. Weekend tickets are apparently scarce to say the least. But if you can swing it, here are some tips:

Wear something festive. It helps you get into the spirit and let loose. Be polite to other guests. They are dorks, like you. And last, but not least, eat some edibles. Speaking from experience, ooh baby, that was fun.

The exhibit is designed to be an international tour of Hello Kitty’s favorite places. You enter and present your tickets to a flight attendant who then presents you with a Hello Kitty passport, boarding passes and a Hello Kitty headpiece. I promptly threw the passport around my neck but struggled to put my phone somewhere without dropping all of my things to the ground. (Being stoned sometimes makes me lose the most basic functions of my hands. But, gotta say...worth it!) Once I remembered how to put my phone in my backpack, I threw the headpiece around my large dome, then helped my younger sister do hers. She was pleasantly surprised to find that her head was not too big for the headpiece which has literally never happened before. Things started strong!

The flight attendant told us to hang tight and that our flight would be departing in 8 minutes. At this point, I started getting pretty stoned. “Did she say flight?” The technicolor suitcase display and annual Hello Kitty banners that decorated the foyer were a feast for the eyes. Not to mention, everywhere I looked there was some new, limited edition merch - tour tee-shirts, letterman jackets, hats, stuffed animals, bracelets, keychains, water bottles, sodas, YOU NAME IT. At this moment I knew I was about to spend a million dollars on some stupid shit and I wasn’t even afraid.

When it was time to depart (exactly 8 minutes later) another flight attendant, in head to toe Hello Kitty, ushered us into the first city, HK’s hometown of London. It was poppinggggg. I don’t want to go through every city because it’ll be boring but London was a strong start. They had the stereotypical London sights: cute red double decker buses and a Queen’s guard that my sisters did not let me twerk on. Again, I was high, but I think objectively this was a very, very good time.

Everyone was a full ass grown-up ready to rage except for a mother of a 6 year old. Neither of them were a fun time. And I know I’m talking shit about a 6 year old buuuuuut she was super shy and not loving the spotlight nearly as much as I would’ve at her age. It was like pulling teeth with her for the poor flight attendant who just wanted the kid to be adorable and take some of the pressure off of her to be entertaining for the next 45 minutes. Luckily for all parties, our flight attendant, April, was a fucking delight. She did give us Hello Kitty madelines when we got to Paris so could be the cookie talking. But the same could not be said for her side kick, what’s her name. I know being a fabulous host is not easy - I host a monthly hip-hop bingo night! (Feel free to attend, Los Angeles.)

But back to the main event. The exhibit was comprised of 5 cities - London, Paris, New York, Honolulu and Tokyo - and the only letdown was Honolulu. I know I will not make any fans with this hot hot take, but, Hawaii is sort of not for me. The aesthetic is really not my jam. Bad tank tops and bare feet. (And you know some people’s feet simply must be covered up!!!!) Honolulu was mainly empty walls with a couple tan Hello Kitty’s thrown around and a sad display of hoola skirts that we were supposed to take pictures with but they looked like they’d gone through a particularly rough Mardi Gras. I passed.

While the whole thing was marvelous, I do need to make one point about some of the other tour guests. They were - how do I say, old? Like in a surprising way. Granted my sister is 41 and a diehard fan. So I was expecting women her age. However, these ladies were well into their 50′s. And if Hello Kitty came out in 1974 that means that they were 10ish years old when it came out. I guess that math adds up fine. There’s plenty of things that I still like from when I was 10. Gwen Stefani comes to mind.

It could also be that these were women who were perhaps younger than they appeared and that’s just fine. Maybe Hello Kitty was their little spot of sunshine in their otherwise difficult lives. I have a feeling it’s the latter. The fanaticism was on a level 10. April was throwing out trivia questions that were real head scratchers. Needless to say, I knew not a single correct answer. Yet, these women were like the Ken Jennings’ of useless Sanrio trivia. Only difference is Ken Jennings won some frickin’ money with his knowledge. These women got 4 seconds of recognition from 10 strangers. And, fuck it, let them have it. Today was about embracing the dumb shit. What is celebrating a cartoon cat if not celebrating dumb shit???

I had such a blast spending big money on some swag that I don’t know (I do know) that I’ll ever wear again. My sister spent $200 on a matching sweat suit, a tee-shirt and three pop sockets. She’s planning on keeping the pop sockets as collector’s items. And, I don’t know why! That is a technology that is already on its way out! (Mind you, my sister also thought Crystal Pepsi was cool. But, whatever.) My other sister spent $140 on a jacket that she’ll (hopefully) get two wears in. We were not making grown-up decisions today, people. We were behaving like children with credit cards. And what else could you really want?

[ecotone99]

Divination[Amusement 2019]

I had never been to New Orleans but once I set foot on old Royal street, I knew this was where I was meant to be. I could just feel something in my bones pulling me through the streets of the French Quarter as the people around me prepared for the Mardi gas celebration. I feel almost euphoric as I walk through the old rows of creole cottages and historical homes, soaking in the history of this once magical city that was home to the great Madame Marie LaVeau, The Voodoo queen of New Orleans. The city itself has almost a magnetism that I can't describe in words but it draws you in, beckoning you closer to its magic and mysteries.

My grand-mama always said that that "pull" we feel is just " kindred recognizing kindred", pulling us to people or places that possessed the same blessing or "curses".Soon, I come upon a sign that reads "Spiritual Reader" and that warm sensation of knowing takes over as I pull open the door to the shop. A charm hanging above the door jingles as I enter and an older, beautiful woman walks out and introduces herself as " Mambo Chechere", I laughed to myself because her name reminded me of the Cheshire cat from Alice in wonderland, mischievous and tricky.... Certainly fit I suppose.

​

"Would ya like a readin' cher?" she questioned with breezy Cajun accent.

"Yes, ma'am..." I Replied.

"Tell me ,you, what would ya like to learn ? Love? health? Wealth? Mambo Chechere knows all and see all" She says with lowered eyes as she laid out her cards. I don't immediately respond to her as I am listening to the low whispers swirling around me, half wondering if she could hear them too.

"Actually, I.... I came here to see you personally" I say looking at her intently

"there is a message that I am to give you."

"Me??....why me, cher" she asks slowly, finally looking up from the tarot cards she laid out in threes. Silence falls as I feel the Loa within creep to the surface and finally speaks...

"Les mystères parle cou moi, mambo Chechere, and they say that you have not paid on favors owed" I convey to her, knowing that it is not I that speaks the words...But the spirit through me.

Eyeing me suspiciously she sits quietly for a moment, trying to comprehend what I just told her and from the look on her face, She seems to know exactly what I am talking about.

" Marinette Bras Cheche , the forsaken soul," she realizes " I beg your penitence... I have prayed to placate your wrath and put me offerings..did they not please?" she bowed as she spoke to me, well, the Loa that was riding in me.

"ONES YOU'VE WRONGED PRAYED HARDER, MAMBO!!!" I hear more than one voice BELLOWING from within my very being. " YOU USE THE POWER I GAVE TO PUT OTHERS IN CHAINS, TO BREAK THEM AND NOW, I COME TO COLLECT MY BOUNTY..WHAT DO YOU OFFER ME, MAMBO?"

*"*I have nothing of value to give, Loa, I swear swear on my life" pleaded Mambo Chechere. She looked around her cottage as if to say "I am without".

The Loa laughed a deep, dark and terrifying laugh before responding in the same bellowing voices.

"AH, BUT YOU DO MAMBO..YOU DO....." the voices hissed ,as my hand raised to point to the dimly lit room behind Mambo Chechere. " THEY WILL DO JUST FINE, FOR WHAT HAS MORE VALUE THAN INNOCENCE."

Mambo Chechere began to cry, to beg and plead for the souls of her twin daughters,who were sleeping peacefully in the back room, all the while not knowing that the sins of their mother was their debt to pay. The loa did not care for the cries of the woman and instead of mercy, she called for the children in a language I didn't fully understand. As the Loa spoke, I begin to see the children's poor tiny souls rising from their bodies and join the loa at her side....Then everything went black as she left my body and took the bebes with her....

​

So much for my Mardi Gras vacation.

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