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eqcentriceqclectic-blog · 5 years ago

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Inherited Demons

2019/12/07 – Nothing Right

Nothing I do is ever right. In His eyes, I will always be a feral horse that needs to be put to the whip. If I don’t and I get free, he hopes that my freedom in the wild will end in cold realisation in my last moments as I am beset by wolves. Even, if objectively right, it is as if an offense on his very existence—as if he were a god or a ghost and disbelief in him would condemn him to abyssal oblivion. And so, being right or doing well is actively discouraged—either through deafening and oppressive silence, or through roaring rage and insufferable indignation. He may be seen as quiet, but that is not to be taken as docility or humility—no; it is a sinister and seething silence. Normally, improvement is supposed to be seen as positive.

I cannot count the number of times I’ve either wanted to run away from home or outright kill myself. It desperate times, they’ve been my mantra or my prayers to soothe my wretched soul. What stopped me from running away? Fear of failure. Fear of strangers. Fear of retribution. An incompetency instilled in me long ago. One I replicated and instilled in a brother placed into my charge, even as a shell of a person—shattered shards looking for a reflection. It wasn’t until that reflection attempted to kill himself that I realised what my shoddily-assembled puzzle-of-a-person had done. I had become that which I had despised all my life--that dictatorial and patriarchal demon for which is suffered beneath had impregnated in me a piece of its insidious soul. It had gripped me in its agonising grasp, and regurgitated the darkness imparted to it, into my screaming-tear-streaked face. And thus, the cycle would continue like a horror-franchise that just won’t die. That was the day I realised—despite my love for the pure curiosity and optimism of children and the undeniable yearning to cradle and raise small-beings of my ghostly-ovaries—that I could not perpetuate this curse. To adopt a family-less entity into this story would be tantamount to sacrificing them to the demon that inhabits our family-line with my own bloodied hands.

I remember when I was bird-sitting Rita (a cousin’s feather-child) and He attempted to interact with it while wildly inebriated—like he enjoys doing—and held out his hand. Rita, as finicky conures tend to be, bit him HARD as she did not know him and did not like him. I feared for that bird’s life as I recognised the drunken rage that overtaken his alcohol-laden-bubbly-demeanor, as he shouted some profanity at the bird. I called out, to let him know I was present, and explained to him why she bit him before telling him to leave her alone.A similar incident happened years ago when I had my bird, Vira. She was a feisty bird and I loved her bravery and assertiveness but the curse infused in me by Him did not make distinctions between humans, non-human animals, plants, or inanimate objects. She and my brother have both bore witness to the same rage and self-perceived-indignity-fuelled-wrath I bore witness to growing up. I loved her dearly, but could not reconcile my own behaviour—I could not split this demonic presence within myself with the love I had for all living things as they both were a part of who I was and it was maddening. But as with all things deeply-unsettling, we seek to take flight from it—as is natural—to get as far as we can from it and forget about it so we can go about our days. To face it, would be to face the demon—itself, a part of you—and to face your own guilt and culpability in its sins, for without you, it would not be able to do its work as a formless, parasitic, lifeless virus. To face your own guilt and responsibility in hurting others is a terrifying thing; it chills you to your core and tears it to shreds because you want to believe you are a good person who does good things, and when you are not the hero of your own story, then you can never be a hero in any story—if you are the villain in your own story, then you will be the villain in all stories.

Looking myself in my own shattered mirror, I could finally see the demon bleeding forth from behind my ill-assembled portrait… I could only play at perfection for so long before all the mismatched pieces fell apart and revealed the vast darkness that mocked me beneath. Like a self-indulgent actor without a true mirror to look into, I enchanted myself with delusions that I was not He and that I was above that which lurked at the bottom of every bottle. And all the while, I was a cheap imitation of him—like a copy-cat-killer imprinting on a serial-killer worshipped by the media. I didn’t need alcohol to justify my crimes, for I had a divine mandate bestowed upon me by my ancestors, which was bestowed upon them by successive emperors, and god-kings before them, and thus the gods themselves. Chinese patriarchy is as insidious a poison as it is insipid as it permeates into every aspect of life in the family. It may not have been such a poison, but it certainly is now. As they say, “Power, absolute, corrupts—absolutely.”

In Chinese culture, there is a powerful emphasis put upon passing on the family name—so much so that female-infanticide was a widespread practice in China. My grandmother used the phrase ‘tuang-tong jeng’ frequently when urging her living descendants to procreate and pray for sons. Also present in Chinese culture is the misguided belief that because all elders are to be afforded respect, it automatically blesses them with the power to always be right—no matter the circumstances. It can be seen in dazzling display with successive Chinese-emperors slaughtering countless people over the millennia, simply for disagreeing or embarrassing the father-of-the-nation with reality and truth. Is it not why the satirical fable of the Emperor and his “new clothes” exists? An emperor that is willfully-blind is one that is indulgent and willfully-negligent—and those that could not see beyond their own gilded mirrors, often led to the starvation of the masses they were given dominion over, and ultimately, their dynasty’s demise. Once they lost their divine mandate, another emperor would rise and a spoiled descendant of his would lead it to ruin, in cycles unending.

After help assembling my mirror to match those that see me for who I am, only now am I able to see the apparition hiding behind it. As puppet-master and puppet entwined as one, it is my responsibility to sever those strings that snake around my offending limbs. It is my responsibility to cast off the shadows that shroud me, as it has become me. It has infused into my essence and become its own—my own—demon, separate from His, but no less His satanic-spawn. Only after acknowledging its existence, screaming its name, can I even begin to excise it like the viral cancer it is. The process is never-ending, for if you ever believe you have destroyed it, your complacency will allow it respite to recover and thus spite your own efforts to defeat it in the first place. We must always strive to be better, despite our accomplishments and desires to revel and relish our achievements—for idle hands do the devil’s work. Resting on our laurels is like laying and brooding upon our nest-eggs atop a poisoned heath—our savings and our accolades will rot along with us. We’ll only fester along our heaped up hoard, as a magnificent dragon does upon all its glittering greed. If I’ve gleaned anything over the past two or so years, it’s that our own pride and arrogance will always be our downfall. It understand that it was my own hubris in believing I was less of a terrible person than he was, only to find myself, one day, staring back at Him in the mirror. I saw me, regurgitating exactly what putrid horrors was spat into my own face, at someone else—someone I was told was below me—simply because they were younger or less of a person than I was. And that is how He still sees me: lowly, basal, lost, stupid, barbaric, “sub-human”—and worst of all—a child. And one that is unbridled, feral, and wild—but worst of all, “uncontrollable”. And, also, wholly unimpressed with the infallibility of the patriarchal parental dictatorship to which begs rebellion and resistance.

I will no longer scrape my head at His feet simply because he decided he would do the “holy” duty of acceding to his mother’s wishes of him to marry a woman he didn’t know, and would never love, and bear for him a son he could present to his parents—just because he is my father and my elder. He is as flawed as we all are and I will not grovel at His feet simply because he thinks he is my superior simply because he is my father and my elder. Respect is earned—not demanded—and throughout the years, my respect for him corroded away until there was no flesh left to burn off. Similarly, I have but few happy memories of Him, as the visceral emotional abuse and on-going threats of physical abuse incinerated the vast majority of them as Vesuvius did the people of Pompeii, or the atomic bomb did to the people of Nagasaki. Neither annihilating disaster completely removed the people from existence, as there remained ashy shells or radioactive shadows in their wakes—such are my happy-memories left, as obtuse imprints in the eroding beach-sands: as vague stories of ‘Snow Black and the Seven Dwarves’, as ephemeral visions of rehabilitating young birds blown to the ground by torrential storms, and as echoes of lessons on why not to step on ants. Stronger and clearer are the memories of being slapped for protesting against a particular untested brand of pizza or being chased with a large wooden stick purchased from Home Depot for refusing a hair-cut from Him. Another, particularly, peculiar poison of His was his inherited creed of beating his own child if that child was bullied to tears (or into action)—a shadow he internalised from his own father when being bullied by neighbourhood Vietnamese kids for being Chinese, back in Vietnam.

Growing up as a child in a house-of-cards propped up by two maternal hopes for their fifth-born children was a bittersweet hell, as many are—sweet enough for hope to grow but not enough to survive under the withering harsh bitterness. Perhaps it’s more of a purgatory: not horrible enough to cause one to kill oneself, but just enough to wish so. Those two grandmothers were my oases of love and care in an arid dusty desert of moonless, endless, nights. They were my guiding stars, above all the rabid fighting and gnashing teeth of childish gore-cloaked-hyaenas that called themselves my parents. My grandmothers were the life-sustaining waters, and my parents were the malarial insects that abated my existence. When my brother attempted to kill himself, I came to find out—of course, through another one of their petty and accusative arguments—that neither of them ever dreamed of having children and raising them. Why? Because they were still children, themselves—they were mostly raised by their elder siblings as their immigrant parents worked to carve a life in an increasingly hostile environment. That environment they grew up in abruptly changed as conditions in Vietnam deteriorated and they it was decided that they all needed to flee through hell and high-water (and marauding pirates). The Peter-Pan-like situation became even more so during His teen and young-adult years; formed here, in Canada, under his elder brother and without parents or grandparents to guide these “Lost Boys” fell into a world of alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, and guns that their new peers immersed them in. His elder brother went from a sixteen-year old running a small textiles business that employed workers in Vietnam to an alcoholic who would gamble his way into a depression in Canada. He would go from an inquisitive child making toys out of trash and sticks and swimming in monsoon-flooded roads to a teen drinking himself into a stupor and smoking until his adult teeth would become grey and lined with tar. Children raising children does not yield the positive results, and least of all depressed children raising children—this is true of my parents, and of myself. I had no business being in-charge of my baby brother—absolutely zero—especially with the foul fecal froth spilling from their mouths, to mine, as it then spilled down to my younger brother as I abused him emotionally, verbally and physically as my parents did to me. As explained in the paragraphs above, it did not occur to me until later what I was doing was wrong—it was just what I’ve known and what I felt.

I started to notice how my cousins, aunts, and uncles would look at me as I terrorised my brother over his mistakes—or my perception of his mistakes and improprieties. My logical reasoning at the time was that, “I’m not allowed to do that; why is he?” They always looked startled—or, “unsettled,” maybe is a better word—at my outbursts and threats. I remember once, in a restaurant—where I sat next to him while we were seated amongst our cousins and the adults were sat across from us—where he refused to eat a certain food and I became unreasonably enraged at him and I threatened to cut the head off of the stuffed toy (acquired from Midway arcade in Niagara Falls) if he did not eat it. I had stunned everyone and their hearts broke for my brother, just a young child being terrorised by a teen sibling. Breaking this cycle of abuse was tough—especially while still being abused, yourself. After, breaking free from physical (less so, emotional and verbal) abuse, all the injustice and indignity and rage continued spilling on to the easiest and most vulnerable target, who—under patriarchal rules—would lack arbitrary familial immunity from my wrath and cruelty. Where I could verbally, emotionally, and physically abuse him for whatever I wished, I could only cry, whimper, cower, and hide. However, I did exact vengeance upon them by hiding or damaging the belongings of my parents in protest of their mistreatment of me. There was one instance when I was about six or seven and I fled out of the back of the house after having been shouted out of the tear-stained washroom I had locked myself into on the top floor of the house. On my way passed the car, after deciding that I would run away from home, my eyes burned with salted indignation and so I picked up a stone from the gravel bed and scraped profanities onto the car’s paint and transferred my raw emotions into words. I dropped the stone and continued past the garage and through the laneway until I reached the side-walk, still crying. I stood there, thinking, and came to a realisation that I could not go any further—for if I did, I would be kidnapped and killed by a stranger. So, I walked down to the corner and right back to the front of the house and down the alleyway back to the backyard and back into the house where my parents were still searching—His wooden stick still in-hand—without a clue that I had tried to run away (or that I had keyed words of profanity on to the car with a pebble).

In 2017, when Grandma first became weak after years of mismanaging her own hypertension-medication, I became involved in her healthcare in the balmy month of July. Before then, I didn’t even know she had hypertension and thought she took medication just because it was something a person did when they got as old as she did. After accompanying grandma and Him to both the hospital and her nephrologist, I began researching Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD). I learned about how the kidney can be damaged by high blood-pressure and looked into the medication she was taking, going so far as to see which medications could be contra-indicated. I advised Him that grandma’s medication (since she became inconsolable and beyond fearful for her life and no longer was able to manage them herself and became paranoid that we (including the doctors) were trying to poison her and began refusing to take them for a while) should be split into two as then the hypertensive-medications were be better able to manage her blood-pressure through the day instead of causing a sharp drop for the day while allowing it to rise again in the evening--one of her medications for hypertension-management was even specifically designed to be taken at night which is when blood-pressure is supposed to naturally drop. He likes to take credit for this. He also likes to take credit for what he didn’t even believe for a long time—her weakness that started in the first place. When her health was declining in April of 2017, after her nephrologist cut her off from the round of erythropoietin he had initially put her on in the winter prior, He did not believe that it was her health, but her age. I would become increasingly frantic in asserting that this was the reason as the months dragged on and by July, she could barely get out of bed because of how anemic she was. I, unlike He, had done research into what “erythropoietin” was and why she needed to take those shots. I was upset at her nephrologist for cutting her off from those shots because he thought her red-blood-cell count was too high (after a blood-test in March/April) and he’d see her back in three months (this was the cadence of her visits to him: every three months, so approximately four times a year). Again, by July, she was so weak that He took her to the hospital twice in the latter half of that month and once in August where I accompanied them after ending my seasonal job a few days prior. I urged him again that it was the lack of erythropoietin shots and resulting anemia that made her so weak—but he again asserted that it was because she was old. Thankfully, the nephrologist prescribed another round of erythropoietin shots (one shot, every other week, for three months—so six syringes in total). However, the ordeal and fear of death had warped her mind—the nurse at the nephrologist’s office told us that because her GFR was so low, she would likely need dialysis but that dialysis for people aged eighty and up were too at risk of developing a central-line infection—and surgery for a kidney transplant would provide an ever higher risk of mortality. She also told us that she most likely only had two-years left to live—guess what? It’s been over two-years now. I guess it’s the same for when Push got the morbid news that she only had three months left to live and lived another three years. Anyway, I digress. After horrifying and terribly painful months of trying to sleep with an insomniac grandmother in the next room having an end-life crisis, chanting all through the night of her tragic ending, and trying to manage her anxiety, panic, and paranoia in the day-time after both He and mom went to work, and brother went to school, she snapped and her dementia advanced by leagues. In the years prior, I started to notice she became much less brave and much more reserved and careful—in addition to misplacing her watch and other things that told a story of short-term memory loss. She became a lot less aware of her surroundings where, before—as a mischievous little child—I would stand behind the wall at the base of the stairs and try to surprise her but just get a sweet old smirk and an adorable elderly quip as she walked by her silly grandson. However, ever since reaching ninety, just walking to her room and asking what she was watching would startle her half to death (and our floors are obscenely creaky)—she became a lot less aware of her surroundings and where things (or people were). Around this time, she also started to hear ringing in her ears when there was only dead-silence. After she became increasingly unhinged and violent, there became a need to hospitalise her—not for her weakness or anemia, this time, but for her aggression. She probably had not slept for over a month, by this point, and this was most likely the source of said aggression, paranoia, and anxiety. On the car ride there, she was openly hostile to Him while he was driving and my attempts to stop her so as to avoid having a car-accident turned her aggression towards me. When finally passing triage and reaching the waiting area of the emergency department, Grandma continued her violence, painfully hitting Him and I with her gold-and-jade-laden rings. When a room finally opened up, she refused to go and wanted to go back home (even after days and days and days of wanting to be taken to the hospital) and when we tried to gently push her towards the room, she suddenly turned around, and as it with the power of all the elephant matriarchs of the world pushed me and Him out of the room and began assaulting us before the nurses quickly called for orderlies and security to bring her down and tie her arms and legs to the hospital-bed in the room. Because of what had just transpired, she was upgraded to the sub-accute emergency section with a room closer (and facing) the nurses-station. She was sedated with haloperidol through injection because she refused to take an oral dose but during the process Him, I, a nurse, and two security guards needed to hold her down and she still was almost able to bite the nurse (and myself). After that, we were put into contact with the Local Health Integration Network (LHIN) to discuss placing her in an assisted-living facility and both 4th Uncle and He were seriously considering it and passed on the responsibility of coordinating with LHIN to me due to my higher education and superior command of English. They also put in a referral for us to the hospital’s geriatrics department and scheduled us to see a Dr. Cheng at a later date after the attending physician provided a temporary round of anxiolytics (lorazepam). When taking the lorazepam, she was much more docile and also able to sleep and it felt like we got her back from the throes of insanity—that is, until we had to take increasing doses and it became unfeasible to continue. Her violent tirades returned, along with her insomnia and we went to see the geriatrician. He proved to be—not just incompetent, but—wildly careless and inadequate; his bed-side manner was shockingly crass and crude. He never really listened when we came in for the appointment and seemed in a hurry to get us out the door with a new round of pills for her to take: haloperidol, sertraline—you name it, she probably was prescribed it. Some of them were worse than others, like haloperidol which left her a stumbling and drooling mess—taken long enough, left her bid-ridden and Him changing diapers and bed-sheets. Eventually, I decided it was time to stop seeing the geriatrician as I was also so upset with his flippant demeanor when at appointments in his office. He took a little while to convince, as He was afraid of Grandma reverting back to her violent and difficult self even though I was the one home alone with her while everyone else was gone for a majority of the day at work or school. As that was the case, the representatives from LHIN mostly dealt with me when they came by the house whether it was the social-worker on the case or the professionals she would send to the house. The most helpful professional was an occupational therapist who educated me upon dementia and Alzheimer’s as well as providing emotional support and advice on the situation with the geriatrician and his exceedingly terrible medications. Before this, in my ignorance, I was yelling and screaming at Grandma, confused as to how she could go from a completely normal and loving grandmother who I would give up the my own mother for to someone I was afraid of being around. After the occupational therapist left, my relationship with Grandma started slowly shifting back to one of positive interactions and normalcy. He, however, refused to read the educational materials the occupational therapist left to enlighten us on Grandma’s dementia because he refused to believe she had dementia because of how quick and abrupt the change was. He wanted to believe that she was doing this on purpose and after retiring before the Christmas of 2017, would often get into drunken tirades and yell so loud you could hear him throughout the house and even in the backyard. This continued afterwards, as well, and followed the cycles of her decline into bed-riddance (either from the anti-psychotics prescribed by the incompetent geriatrician, or the lack in erythropoietin) and ascent back into insanity and unnatural strength. In another descent in early 2018, after her nephrologist AGAIN decided that her RBC-level was too high and cut her off from erythropoietin for another three months, I again became insistent that He call the nephrologist to prescribe another round of shots. He was stubborn, as always is the case, and believed that her being bed-ridden and defecating in a diaper meant that it was her time—as if you were just born with a pre-determined age at which someone would die at. I was enraged so I took matters into my own hands after getting home from work one day in May and called the nephrologists’ office and angrily berated the secretary, to which she told me that all we had to do was call in after running out and they would send the prescription and shots to the pharmacist and we could pick them up. I sat there after the call, part-relieved that it meant Grandma wouldn’t have to go through another round of panic and part-annoyed that He did not want to do it because of laziness and self-importance (the belief that He is smarter than I, even without doing any research or having any prior knowledge about anything, even though He was always the one who took her to the nephrologist’s and family physician’s appointments). He does the same with plants and ended up condemning our eight-year-old starfruit plant to die in the cold, despite my protest. He always thinks he’s the smartest person, regardless of what experience/knowledge he has or doesn’t have in a particular subject—and I’ve inherited a similar manner of speaking-as-a-matter-of-fact-ly, as if I was 100% sure about what I was saying (which often gets me into trouble).

Depression In every waking day, the demon lurks within your shadow—always just out of the corner of your eye. As that sun sets and the lights go out, that shadow becomes an all-consuming spectre that fills the room as much as it does your mind—it eats that light your try to light inside, unhinging its jaws and swallowing the sun whole like a constrictor after it had crushed all the air from your lungs. A breath-taking darkness sends your heart into a frantic panic, straining and screaming and searching for every last bubble of air in the blood starting to leak from your eyes. Crimson tears streak down, acrid and burning, like streams of fiery lava making their way to the salty sorrowful depths of the oceans. Your head is feverishly throbbing with starvation, suffocating and drowning in itself as it melts from the draconic hell-fires lit under you by the shadowy-figure. You are more palatable to it when scared out of your mind and injuriously maimed by your own hand, so it eats at you night by night, piece-by-piece—it could be days, months, years, or even decades—but it is patient and diabolical. You are to it, like finely aged-wines or cheeses are to a wealthy connoisseur with too much money to know what to do with.

An Unwelcome Stranger Is His child, in his home, being a burden upon him. It doesn’t matter if this person does anything good, because—ultimately—this person is a stranger. A worthless stranger borne of his flesh and blood, that only continues to feast like a fat leech, engorging itself on His blood.

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randomnessunicorn-imagine · 7 years ago

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#1 Prize~

Prompt by @yuafukuda

Post scriptum: I've found your prompt so interesting and I had a lot of inspiration for it, thanks~ Obvious, I hope you will appreciate this fanfiction, it's not a drabble because this story will be composed by 4/5 chapters, yey-! I will tag you every time I add a new chapter since it's still your prize and I will take time to write every one of them. I would like if you leave me some comment or an opinion about it, thanks! It’s important for me.

Plus. This story is narrated in third person so the Reader has a name that is Beatrice, because it's more comfortable to read, I guess... It’s useless saying that there will be a lot of Angst here, and the thematic that will be treated are also delicate, there’s nothing explicit and any brutal descriptions but It’s better to know. This chapter is calm, it will become more angst in the following chapters.

Have fun-!

----- The game of redemption-----

“Ezekiel 25:17. The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you.”

― Pulp Fiction, Tarantino.

The mass has just been completed and all the crowd of believers were coming out from the Cathedral after they learnt another important Christ’s lesson. The safest place for someone, a home that welcome everybody in need. Not a soul could feel alone or lost until the vigil eye of God contemplated from up above the human’s actions but He was not alone in this mission because there were other mysterious entities that helped Him and He was still One who could not took care of every prayers in the world. His assistants, it was not a mystery or something none could not suppose alone, were angels, so graceful in their white wings and golden aureoles.

They had the duty to accompany and observe the human race, helping the poor and the oppressed, giving assistance to the ones in pain and, most of all, redeeming sinner’s souls.

These angels had the power to change their appearance to communicate with humans and, just like chameleons, they were able to camouflage themselves and be confused for true humans. In this way, they could help people without rousing the slightest suspicion.

Once, their job was easier and the believers were more motivated and numerous than nowadays because another God called Money became the one and only divinity to worship and pray. An instrument of the devil, someone could say or just another step of the human’s evolution. Just as the famous Ludwig Feuerbach’s quote said, “It is not as in the Bible, that God created man in his own image. But, on the contrary, man created God in his own image”.

If the men stopped to believe, even God would have vanished into thin air and this period God did not spend happy days and all his angels were over stressed to save lost souls. Where sinners missed, there were some atheists or agnostics to ruin the day with their misbelief.

Modern age, modern mind but the same old job

“The sermon was very interesting today, don’t you think?”, said Beatrice, she was one of those God’s assistants, a novice angel who had so many things to learn but a lot of passion that could bring her so far.

“Yes, nothing new but that’s the job…”, her colleague was a wise but exuberant man who had the assignment to guide Beatrice in her experience, teaching her everything he knew like how to be an efficient Angel, how to recognize sins and, especially, how to control themselves and not to fall in temptation. This for an angel was difficult since they were pure creatures but it was not rare an angel lost the right path, becoming a demon or another monster who persecuted the living and they wandered across the Earth without a purpose.

“Oh, Markus, He could hear you…”, being a novice, she was an indoor girl and she feared a lot His judgment. Markus, being more experienced than her, was less naïve and he was freer than the other angels that could appear so bigoted and frivol sometimes. It could be said, Markus adapted himself to this epoch more than anyone else. Someone could say he was a rebel, an entity who was between an angel and a demon, something so similar to a human and for this reason, he was the one who saved more souls.

“Ah, He has better things to do than hearing me”, said the man with an ironical tone and Beatrice looked at her friend with a perplexed expression.

“Was it some kind of black humour?”, referred to the fact that God had to listen every prayers if he was omniscient but maybe He was not…

“Ah, no… You know it’s against the rules. Anyway, have you programs for today?” asked him, assuming a curious expression and she did not hesitate a moment to answer.

“I have to see and assist my protégé!”, she answered with a tone of voice that showed all her determination because it was an important job. There was a person she had to protect, since she was a guardian angel, not a complete guardian angel because she was training and this was the first human she guarded so she had not to make mistakes.

On the other hand, Markus had so many humans to check since his level was superior but this because of his experience. “Ah, that man is complicated, it seems. You will get used to them, humans are weird, it’s like take care of a little pet, like a dog but humans can do their private affair alone.”, his sense of humour was questionable and Beatrice did not laugh. She donated to him a disapproval look, she sighed.

“No, James is not my pet. He’s just so… Problematic, his life can’t be considerate the most fantastic of the world but…”, thinking about that man was frustrating since it was from months she was working with this person and it seemed he was unable to heal from his issues.

“But…?”, echoed Markus’s voice and for the first time his voice appeared serious.

“But it’s important for my wings, you know…”, a sad look appeared on Beatrice’s face and it was an argument she did not like talking about. It was a shame, something abnormal.

“You mean your non-existent wings?”, obvious, he could not be serious more than a minute and he knew how this argument could trigger Beatrice, he truly did not care to appear insensitive.

Beatrice, for her part, could not tolerate this situation anymore. She was an angel without wings and this made her so weird. She was seen like a freak in other angel’s eyes and it was unfair.

Then, after she gained the calm she needed, she answered, “Yes, and you are not funny. Why don’t you try to understand?”, her expression became duller and if she was not an educated person she would have bit him instantly.

“Ah, don’t be silly! You listen too much other’s opinions, and you should chill out. It’s not a problem if you have no wings, they’ll come. You have to be patient and keep on your job!”, he found interesting the fact that she did not possess wings, this was one of the reasons that brought him to take her like his assistant.

“Ah, I know…It seems impossible and I’m not chosen to be the one who is born with that…”, she shrugged, “And James is too deranged and I don’t think to be able to redeem him…”, in that moment Markus assumed an angrier expression and it was so rare seeing him like this.

“You know you can’t choose or change your protégé, He decided it for you and nobody can rebel against Him! Even if it will take an eternity, you have to redeem James’ soul, that’s all!”, Markus did not scream but his behaviour made her uncomfortable.

“No, but then I’ll never obtain my wings!”, she pushed back, raising her voice despite he was her superior and she was not allowed to answer back.

“This is your problem! You are so obsessed with your wings that you forget your job and James’ needs. It’s egoist! James is not the way to obtain your wings, he’s the person you have to help. If you’d think more about him and less about yourself, maybe there will be some progress!”. Beatrice felt offended and she did not think to be selfish, she wanted to be like the other angels.

“If this is what you think, I’ll go to James, he’s not a pain in the backside like you!”, he puffed and she ran away. Markus hoped his lecture would be useful to her and he felt pity for that poor man who had to deal with this woman. Maybe James would never be redeemed.

The streets were filled with people and Beatrice still felt so angry because of Markus’ words. He lied, she was not selfish and she cared about James the same way she cared about her wings. Helping him would have permitted her to obtain her wings. They were her prizes.

The reason why she could not control that man was because he was sick and his problems were so serious but he still had possibilities to be welcome in Heaven if he stopped with his vices. She did not know how to stop him.

While Beatrice walked, she remained to think about her situation and how was hard being an angel, it was still wonderful but this job required so many responsibilities and maybe she was unable to carry this heavy weight on her shoulders.

Then, she could admit she has become fond to this man, that weird man who was James. He was an apathetic sinner who lost his mind the moment his wife left him and he started drink and ruin himself in desperation and loneliness.

Obvious, James did not know Beatrice was his guardian angel, she was just a friend he met during a Christmas night in the soup kitchen. She already knew everything about James but she had to find a way to meet him. It was not so difficult because James was a friendly person, a little shy and insecure but the two of them became friends and, as the time passed, Beatrice learnt to know him very well. She tried to convert him and for a period it worked and he started to frequent his Parish until his ex-wife came back to take her stuff from his house. Just looking at her made James losing his constancy and he returned to the dark side more depressed than before, ready to sin again.

His sin was one: gambling. This was the reason why his wife left him because he bet all their money in those stupid games until it became an obsession. An illness he was unable to fight back until Beatrice came to help him to come out of that vicious cycle made of corruption.

The angel had no idea how to find him and James did not answer at the telephone so she decided to use her angel power to localize the position of his soul so she followed its traces.

As she walked, she reached a part of the town she was unable to recognize, it seemed the night was fell on the city but it was a few hours for evening so she got worried. Her nose was filled with a rotten smell, the smell of sin and temptation. An intolerable fragrance that made the poor angel vomit. She corked her nose with two hands, keeping walking while the atmosphere became more disturbing and obscure.

The light of his protégé’s soul guided her through the darkness, she knew James was very near but he was not in the place where he should have been, and the idea that he has been captured by some malevolent entities sent a chill through her heart. Her suspects were real because she found herself in the middle of the void. She should have not been here because it was illogical and dangerous.

In front of her vision, there was an enigmatic and occult edifice and the angel knew what it was, the desire of runaway took possession of her heart but she could not leave James alone. In that moment, she realized her mentor Markus was right, she had a lot to learn and she has kept her eyes closed for too long.

Beatrice decided to maintain her human’s appearance so she could pretend to be one of the guests because creatures like her were not welcome in the Devil’s Casino. It seemed a sort of joke and her mentor always recommended her to stay away from demon’s areas because it was unsafe.

Her responsibilities weighed much more and she was going to faint but, even now, she remembered James, her problematic protégé, and she found the strength she needed to enter in that demoniac place, hoping not to be seen by anybody. Her plan was taking James and run away as fast as she could. Then, she started feeling sick because the presence of those demons sucked all her energy.

The Casino was occupied by monsters and sinners. The sinners were humans that lost already their rationality so they did not ask themselves what was happening or where they were since the gambling took possession of their mind and their only aim was winning. They lost their heart and mind.

Most of the monsters that were here once were angels or noble creatures who chosen to join the evil path and they became horrid monsters thirsty for sins and death. Beatrice would have become a demon like them if she would have lost her mind and she was so scared and anxious, she could not permit that.

Her steps were fast and snappy while she reached the James soul’s light and she noticed a particular fact about his soul. Its light was very low; it seemed it was vanishing. She moved faster, starting sweating because her nightmares were about to become reality and if she had lost James’ soul, she would have been blatant!

A terrible scene showed up to her eyes: it was James on the ground, he seemed dead, inert and immobile on the cold ground, and his soul was completely dark. The Devil put his mark there and now James was lost, condemned to the eternal oblivion and it was all her fault.

Without any care, she ignored everything and everyone in the hall, running to him, screaming his name but he was passed out.

“I doubt he’ll wake up, lass…”, said a mysterious voice, it seemed it came from the lascivious obscurity and its only sound made her shiver, so she raised her eyes, holding the lifeless James’ body in her arms. Beatrice recognized that figure but she has never met him in person since she was not allowed to come here and demons were not allowed to meet holy creatures. He was the Devil’s right hand man. Now Beatrice was sure, she was completely blatant!

It was like Dice read her mind and he said, “His soul belongs to the Devil now, maybe you came a little too late to save him…”, his grin became darker and the poor angel was unable to stand up on her feet because her legs were trembling. Every part of her body was immobilized.

“Maybe she should give him the true love’s kiss to wake him up”, screamed a voice coming from the crowd and then all the monsters present here started laughing at her fear.

“Come on, fellas. Don’t be rude with this lady, she’s so lost, can’t you notice it? Are you ok, dear?”, Dice’s tone became almost fatherly but he was bluffing, it was clear.

“Don’t call me dear! What did you do to James?”, she said with anger in her voice and she had to demonstrate she was not afraid and she could dare these monsters.

“Oh, so he was your friend, so… I’m desolated but, as I already told you, his soul’s lost, I don’t like repeating’ myself but, since you’re a stubborn guest, I may do an exception.”, the crowd still laughed at her as if she was a freak in a circus and everybody was mocking at her deformities.

“She smells weird!”, another monster said and Beatrice realized it was so near to her that it was touching her with its nose, and it was disgusting so the girl stood up on her feet, moving away.

Her smell was perfectly identifiable since she was an angel and for demons, their smell was equivalent to rubbish and, after that monster did this observation, others started sniffing her, producing verses of disgust.

“Yes, she’s not like us…”, Dice spoke and the crowd silenced itself like if his word was divine, then he looked through her eyes, reading her like the pages of a book. Despite the anxiety his green pupils gave her, she tried to challenge his glare and she did not want to appear weak.

After a long silence, he said again, “Because she’s an…”, another pause let all the monsters speechless and if they found out her true nature, she was more screwed than before.

“I’m not a demon… I come from the other side…”, she said before Dice could spoke and he found her intervention irritating.

“She smells like a putrid angel. She’s one of those God’s slaves!”, said the same monster of before and this situation became unsustainable and everyone started to take her by the hair, spitting on her face. It was a Calvary and Beatrice kept holding James’ cold body like if it was her last hope. He was her last hope.

“Be calm, please. Ladies should never been treated rudely. Try to act more like gentlemen than trash!”, even this time Dice’s word was sacred and all the demons left her alone.

“What’s your name, lass?”, Dice questioned her, calm. The atmosphere became quitter since all the evil creatures in the hall vanished suddenly and there were only the two of them in this huge room. Was it the same room? Something was wrong… No, everything was wrong!

“Beatrice…”, she ignored his glance because it made her uncomfortable and she looked at her protégé that lay on the floor like a cadaver. The sense of guilt was killing her.

“Oh, what a gracious name, it reminds me something.”, she pretended not to care about his thought and she just wanted to come back home, forgetting this story but Dice seemed interested having a conversation with this particular guest and he exposed his mental note, “Wasn’t Beatrice the famous Dante’s Donna Angelica? Such a bizarre coincidence.”, he held back a chuckle, posing his hand under his chin even if his manners made her angrier and she did not feel so angelic.

“Don’t be mad at me, it was just a curiosity, to break the ice. Then, I’ve never seen an angel without wings. That’s another bizarre thing…”, Beatrice’s eyes went wide and he has really read her like a book and she was shocked, that she stayed silenced for a while that seemed eternal. No, she could not lose her mind or give him any satisfaction so she ignored even this time his consideration.

“Not your business…What do you want? Why did you take his soul?”, and the problem remained and she did not resolve anything yet.

“I’ll be frank, the darkest darkness covered his mind and soul, it was inevitable. You should know better than me, aren’t you?”, he shacked his quadratic head pretending to be sorry for her loss.

Before she could say something, Dice intervened again, “If you were his guardian angel, you should have known already his state of mind was toxic and he desired to die more than anything else.” A sadistic grin appeared on his face and the sensation of having stolen a soul that belonged to a creature of God was too ironic and grand to deny.

“Oh, désolé… You’re not even a true angel, so there’s anything to discuss…”. This was a delicate argument for her and he understood it.

One of the most important rules in war was knowing enemies’ weakness and Dice was an expert in this game and he has not even used one of his tricks to blow her mind.

Seeing the anxiety in her eyes made him alive, but it was not entertain enough. This story had to reach a plot twist before he got bored of it. Better if he did not get bored…

“You tempted him, he was going to heal… You tricked James, it’s all your fault!”, she did not want to listen any excuses and she was so furious that she started screaming. The fact that he remarked her disability made her angrier but it was not right. She was playing his game, but she knew God was on her side and He would have helped her forever.

“Angels are so rude nowadays, I’m not surprised people choose the path of atheism… Anyway, lass. Nobody forced your fella to come here. You couldn’t do anything to save him from the start and you couldn’t save him from himself!”.

Her legs were shaking and Dice was right. She was an incompetent at her job and she did not deserve a mentor like Markus or a Father like God. The last possibility she had to realize her dream, to be recognized as a worthy person, has vanished in front of her eyes and it was all her fault. Dice did his job well, he worked for the Devil, he could not be nice. Keep blaming him was not the solution of the problem, Beatrice should have talked with her protégé instead of thinking of her wings every time.

“There has to be a way…”, her voice was pale, as pale as her skin that seemed the one of a corpse and she felt so useless and empty inside.

Dice, noticing her distress, felt the need to comfort her –even if it was just another manipulation-. “Oh, darling… It’s a shame seeing a lady like you so blue, It’s my job, collecting souls for the Devil. Nothing personal, just don’t cry. “, getting closer to her, he caressed her cheek with a grace that took her unprepared and his smile seemed so gentle, pure and she melted, despite a little and disturbing echo in her mind kept saying not to trust him, he was a manipulator and brain wash was his speciality.

Before she could escape from his enigmatic gaze, Dice spoke, “I like your determination, doll. I want to grant some mercy to you, I’m still a gentleman so…”, he half closed his green eyes, hypnotizing her as if he was the sinful snake who convinced Eve to pick the apple in the Garden of Eden.

“I will give you his soul back if you play a little game with me, just a bet.”, he smirked and Beatrice was unable to answer back for the fear that pulsed in her veins.

“No sins, don’t worry. There will be other times for temptation.”, as his voice became softer and warmer, she lost another beat and the oxygen in this room was almost over.

“What bet…?”, it was something unhealthy, she was sure but if this was the only way to have her friend’s soul back she had to try. For James, Markus, God and for herself.

“Nothing special, doll… You just have to redeem three sinners of mine, it’s your job so it won’t be difficult for a skilled angel like you and you can conquer your wings with ease. God will be so proud of his little lady~”, Beatrice remained incredulous, looking him with scepticism.

“Where’s the trick?”, her voice was hostile and she found her temper again.

“No tricks. If you will be able to guide them to a straight path, I will give you back the soul you lost and you’ll gain three souls more. There are four souls for your pretty face, aren’t you happy?”, his fake innocent tone made her nervous and Beatrice did not want to ask the next question.

“What if I lose…”, and his grin was the scariest thing she has ever seen, and she held back her breath when Dice spoke, “Oh, dear. Glad you ask. If you lose…”, a silence made of agony surrounded her, before he talked again, “You’ll be my little slave. You know, doll… A soul like yours is priceless. A candid angel’s soul”. This affair was unfair and she should have not accepted.

“Who’s those sinners?”, maybe it was better knowing more things possible, if there were some mysterious clauses, she had to know.

“I said, three sinners I know, they are three different guys with serious problematic but until you don’t accept I won’t say anything to my little angel.” his grin went wide and the fact that he was calling her in that way made her disgusted because he was still a demon and it was so immoral and dirty.

“So what do you say? I reassure you, Hell’s not a bad place to live, you’ll get used to it.”, the prizes were so high and she could save four lost souls. It was her mission, her life was based on it and if she had a possibility to help someone else…

“Ok, I’m in…” said the girl with an insecure voice but she could not come back in time and Dice’s smile became bigger if it was possible.

“Good decision, dear~”, he smiled, but she did not share the same smile.

“By the way, lass. Regard those sinners, I don’t want to ruin your fun, giving you all the information about them. Suffice to say, the sins they’re going to commit, or they’ve committed, are mortal and wicked. It’ll break your little heart.”, it seemed he was singing a little song, and he was so intonate that masked that sense of horror his words possessed.

“Actually, we’ve a mad lad who’s gonna do something crazy, not that the second is a nice man, he would kill his gal to have what he wants, who knows if he already did…”. Dice chose for her only the worst human cases of his club of perverts and Beatrice started doubting about her capacities but there was no way to reconsider her decision.

“The third one is my favourite sinner but I’m not going to tell you, it’s a surprise… “, he chuckled.

“A surprise? I have to know all of them…”, the first lies have been said, too naïve to trust him.

“The suspense is a part of the show… People are already betting on you, and it seems all the bets are against you, dear. Show them what you’re made of~”.

Then, as the gentleman he was, he kissed the back of her hand and then screams coming from nowhere invaded the hall and they were so loud and crazy that her mind was going to explode in thousand pieces.

Beatrice ran away as fast as she could, reaching for the exit of this hell, while tears of confusion and desperation fell from her foggy eyes. That echo, the laughs and screams, remained in her mind all the day and night, tormenting her dreams.

A situation she would have never imagined and she felt alone, confused and despaired in this big world of evilness. She was just a mere angel, a dilettante compared to all her colleagues angels that redeemed souls from a longer time than her.

She had to help those misguided lambs because it was her duty and everyone in this world needed a second chance. An opportunity to see the light of sun again, to be free and pure. It was her chance to demonstrate her value, her obedience and respect towards God, his Saviour and Father.

To God have been dedicated her last words, before she went to bed.

Oh, Father. My God.

Listen to my prayer, bless me with Your assistance and wisdom, and I will be always yours.

I pray for the salvation of those poor souls who’ve followed the wrong path, but they will find Your light again and will be embraced by Your eternal love. They will find the faith again, and this world will become a better place where every souls will live in peace and harmony. Amen.

Then darkness, and her eyes closed while she’s been swallowed by the dream world. Despite her fear, she slept serene like a baby because she found her faith again and no demons would have been able to tempt her again until God was by her side.

[ To be continued… ]

#randomnessunicorn-imagine #yuafukuda #cuphead dont deal with the devil #cuphead fanfiction #cuphead #cuphead king dice #king dice #king dice x reader #x reader #angel reading #raffle prize #fanfiction

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love-god-forever · 6 years ago

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When the Second Coming of Christ Arrives, Can We Enter the Heavenly Kingdom?

By Wang Zhen

It is said in the Bible, “For with the heart man believes to righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made to salvation” (Romans 10:10). Many of us therefore believe that by believing in the Lord Jesus, we are already saved and once saved always saved, so when the second coming of Christ arrives we will automatically be raptured into the kingdom of heaven. However, some brothers and sisters feel perplexed: We commit sins in the day and confess them at night, and often lose our tempers at people; we frequently tell lies and are capable of deceiving people and God, and haven’t become as a little child. God is holy, and absolutely no sinner is permitted to enter the kingdom of heaven. So, will the Lord rapture people like us when He returns?

This question is really worth seeking, for it is directly related to the important issue of whether or not we can enter into the kingdom of heaven when the second coming of Christ arrives. In order to find the answer, we need to understand this question: What is the meaning of being saved? Think back to the late period during the Age of Law. Because mankind was being corrupted more and more deeply by Satan, they committed more and more sins. If this continued, man would face the danger of being executed by the laws. God took mercy on mankind, however, and in order to save mankind He became flesh to preach the gospel of the heavenly kingdom. He healed the sick, cast out demons and brought people rich and bountiful grace; He taught man to love each other and to be tolerant, humble and patient. In the end, He was crucified and became the sin offering for all mankind. From that point on, so long as we repented and confessed our sins and prayed to the name of the Lord Jesus, then we would no longer be condemned by the laws because of our faith, and we would be saved. Just as it is recorded in the Bible: “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death” (Romans 8:1–2). “That if you shall confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus, and shall believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you shall be saved” (Romans 10:9). Therefore, “being saved by faith” that we talk about means that our sins are absolved, and that we won’t be condemned or sentenced to death by the laws—this is the true meaning of being saved.

Now at this point, some brothers and sisters may say: “The Lord has redeemed us from sin, and as we were saved once, then we are always saved, so we will be able to enter the kingdom of heaven.” But does this saying accord with the Lord’s words? Only Christ is the Lord of the kingdom of heaven, and only the words of the Lord Jesus have authority and are the truth. Man’s words, however, are not the truth, and they are not the standards by which one can enter the kingdom of heaven. The Lord Jesus never once said that those who have been saved by their faith may enter into the kingdom of heaven, but rather, He said: “Not every one that said to Me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that does the will of My Father which is in heaven” (Matthew 7:21). “Truly, truly, I say to you, Whoever commits sin is the servant of sin. And the servant stays not in the house for ever: but the son stays ever” (John 8:34–35). The Lord Jesus’ words state very clearly that those who live lives whereby they sin and then repent are the servants of sin, and that those who are still bound by sin like this cannot enter the kingdom of heaven. Jehovah God said, “You shall therefore be holy, for I am holy” (Leviticus 11:45). God is holy, and all those in God’s kingdom are capable of doing God’s will, are honest people who can practice the truth and stand witness, and are people such as Abraham, Job, and Peter. But look at our current condition: Though we have been forgiven of our sins by our faith in the Lord Jesus, our sinful natures still exist. Controlled by our sinful natures, we can still be arrogant and self-important, so much so that we look down on others, belittle others, exclude others and judge others; when we encounter issues which relate to money or touch upon our own personal interests, we are capable of scheming against each other, engaging in deception and deceiving people and God; while we believe in God, we can also worship and follow men, and listen to the words of men before those of God; as we serve God, we still often rely on our own notions, testify and exalt ourselves, and take God as our enemy; when we achieve status, we are capable of entrapping and controlling others, splitting into cliques in the church and establishing our own independent fiefdoms; when disasters happen, whether man-made or natural, we can often blame God and misunderstand Him, so much so that we even betray Him. … Since there are so many aspects of us that are not compatible with God, and our sins haven’t been cleansed, this proves that we are unable to enter the kingdom of heaven.

Let’s read a passage in a book, and we will understand more clearly. It says in the book: “A sinner such as you, who has just been redeemed, and has not been changed, or been perfected by God, can you be after God’s heart? For you, you who are still of your old self, it is true that you were saved by Jesus, and that you are not counted as a sinner because of the salvation of God, but this does not prove that you are not sinful, and are not impure. How can you be saintly if you have not been changed? Within, you are beset by impurity, selfish and mean, yet you still wish to descend with Jesus—you should be so lucky! You have missed a step in your belief in God: You have merely been redeemed, but have not been changed. For you to be after God’s heart, God must personally do the work of changing and cleansing you; if you are only redeemed, you will be incapable of attaining sanctity. In this way you will be unqualified to share in the good blessings of God, for you have missed out a step in God’s work of managing man, which is the key step of changing and perfecting. And so you, a sinner who has just been redeemed, are incapable of directly inheriting God’s inheritance” (“Concerning Appellations and Identity”). From this passage we understand that the Lord Jesus’ redeeming us is God showing us mercy and no longer seeing us as sinners. It does not mean, however, that we have cast off all sin and been purified, much less does it mean that we are able to enter the kingdom of heaven. We haven’t broken away from the binds and restrictions of sin and still live in a vicious cycle of sinning and confessing. Dominated by our satanic natures, such as being arrogant and conceited, crooked and treacherous, and selfish and base, we cannot get along with each other, let alone be compatible with God, so how can we enter God’s kingdom? It’s clear that if we want to enter the kingdom of heaven, we need God to perform a stage of work of cleansing and changing man to expunge our sinful nature. Only when we achieve dispositional change and are purified, can obey God and love God, and become compatible with God, will we be able to be raptured up to the kingdom of heaven by God.

How then will the Lord do His work to purify and change our corrupt dispositions when His second coming arrives? In fact, the Lord Jesus has told us about this aspect. He said: “I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. However, when He, the Spirit of truth, is come, He will guide you into all truth: for He shall not speak of Himself; but whatever He shall hear, that shall He speak: and He will show you things to come” (John 16:12–13). “And if any man hear My words, and believe not, I judge him not: for I came not to judge the world, but to save the world. He that rejects Me, and receives not My words, has one that judges him: the word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the last day” (John 12:47–48). The Bible also says: “So Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and to them that look for Him shall He appear the second time without sin to salvation” (Hebrews 9:28). From this we can see that God has many things to say and has the work of judgment to do, but because people’s statures in the Age of Grace were too small, and also because mankind has been too profoundly corrupted, God needs to save and change us stage by stage. Therefore, God first became flesh to redeem mankind and grant us redemption, and in the last days when the second coming of Christ arrives, He will tell us about all the truth we do not understand, reveal all mysteries to us, and do a stage of judgment work to thoroughly cleanse us and allow us to become compatible with Him. Only when we have our satanic dispositions purified and become people who do the will of the heavenly Father can we achieve the standards for entering into the kingdom of heaven, and only then are we qualified to be raptured into heaven.

Through the fellowship above, we can determine that when the second coming of Christ arrives, He will express new words to the churches and do the work of judgment and purification. So, if someone testifies to us that the Lord has already returned and is expressing His words and doing His work of judgment beginning in God’s family, it is very likely that this is the appearance of God. The Lord Jesus said: “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear My voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with Me” (Revelation 3:20). “And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom comes; go you out to meet him” (Matthew 25:6). We should be the wise virgins, pay attention to hearing God’s voice and actively seek, rather than live within our notions and imaginings and refuse to listen, see, seek and investigate. This is the only way that we won’t shut the Lord outside and are able to welcome the second coming of Christ.

#Second Coming #Mysteries of Second Coming #How to Get to the Kingdom of Heaven

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segadores-y-soldados · 8 years ago

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Overwatch: Apocalypse Now

TL;DR: Overwatch is slowly building a world of apocalypses and horror stories through references to mythology, literature, and pop culture. Through these, it continues a cautionary tale of “humanity’s greatest flaw is its own ambitious arrogance,” the same arrogance which caused Overwatch to fall. It has also presented a few different routes of “hope” to try and break the cycle.

More stuff to read, if you want: Soldier: 76 Fact Sheet, References, and Some Analyses Reaper Art Assets Reaper References Reaper and Soldier: American Cultural References Ana as the source of conflict

They said to each other, “Come, let’s make bricks and bake them thoroughly.” They used brick instead of stone, and tar for mortar. 4 Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves; otherwise we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth.” - Genesis 11:3 - 4

UNDER CONSTRUCTION: Like much of the still-growing city, the massive tower at the center of Oasis is still under construction and has no estimated completion date. Though the current structure is already one of the world's tallest skyscrapers, the final plans call for it to extend even further, easily becoming the world's tallest freestanding building. Not much is known about the tower's purpose, other than it ties into the city's massive data gathering and computational efforts. - Oasis Travel Tips

In the hype of Oasis dropping and the ever wonderful jump-pad, many people missed the very quiet and almost hidden lore about the city that was simultaneously released by Blizzard. The “Oasis Travel Tips” revealed that the “city of science” was controlled by a group of ministries governed by “a brilliant collective of eight of the world's leading scientists.” Among the lore dropped was the revelation that the Gardens map was intended to evoke the Hanging Gardens of Babylon -

And that “the tower” in the distance was a clear homage to The Tower of Babel.

For those of you who are not familiar with the story of The Tower of Babel, it is a tale from Genesis that explains why there are so many languages. In the story, all of humanity shared one language, and as means of this communication, began to build a tower to reach the heavens and God Himself. When God saw what humanity was doing, He destroyed the tower and scattered the people, giving them different languages so that they could not perform such a feat again. The lesson here is that the arrogance of humanity led them to believe they could build something as impressive as God Himself (or so some say).

While it is difficult to detangle The Tower of Babel from its religious connotations, the emphasis here is that “one should not be so arrogant” or the “higher powers that be” will bring their wrath upon you.

Which is precisely the overarching story that Overwatch’s lore is building. I’ve been wondering for some time how to structure all these disparate pieces of lore into something that connects to the major themes of “Who watches the Watchmen?”, “History repeats itself,” and “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions,” but with Uprising, we finally have a lot more tangible proof that the “grand theme” of Overwatch’s lore - both the “canon” lore outside of the game, and numerous “in-game” references - are building a new version of an age-old tale of the apocalypse and “the ancient horrors” lurking just beyond human perception. These “larger forces” are dropped through mythology and religious references, but also a number of pop culture and “horror story” references that litter the game. I’ve tried to collect the majority of them here. But to start with, we need to cover some background info.

1. The Nameless City of Oasis

"That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons, even death may die."

I’m not gonna claim to be any authority on Lovecraft, but any Lovecraft or Eldritch horror fan should look at Oasis with a slight skepticism. Already we have references to the Tower of Babel with the map, and there are numerous in-game lines that imply that something vaguely sinister is going on beneath the shiny surface of the city.

Junkrat: “This place is a bit posh for me…” Symmetra: “The Vishkar Corporation would love to have a presence here.” Zenyatta: “What a fascinating place! Can science alone unlock the path to enlightenment?”

The most important one, however, is this set (I cannot find the direct quotes, so I’m basing this off memory but):

Sombra: “What are we doing here?” Reaper: “We’re here to see an old friend.”

Now this is extremely interesting. One of the prevailing fan theories is that Angela “Mercy” Ziegler may have connections to Oasis - she is depicted in the Recall short as being located somewhere in the Middle East, particularly somewhere in present-day Iraq, which is where “the city of Oasis” is located. In the Reflections comic, she is shown to be working on some sort of “active field duty” in a tent that is brightly-lit. In the “We Are Overwatch” short, she rescues a young girl on the edge of a large city with multiple skyscrapers in the background.

I know there is already speculation that, if Mercy is in fact located in Oasis, Reaper is “out for her.” Another version of the theory goes that Reaper is coming to see her to ask her for help with his current state of existence (note that I am not a fan of the “Mercy botched saving Reaper” theory because that has been effectively debunked by Chu).

Because if there is anyone capable of helping Reaper restore himself, it would be “the doctor of death herself,” Angela Ziegler.

We know from Dragons, Recall, Hero, and the Museum Heist that 1) ultimates such as the Dragons and Tactical Visor are canon, 2) Reaper is capable of transforming himself into smoke, 3) Winston’s in-game abilities - including his Rage ultimate - are canon. At the moment, there is no reason to believe that Mercy’s Resurrection ultimate is not canon. People will no doubt argue that I’m making a leap of logic here, but until confirmed otherwise, I’d say it’s likely that all Ultimates are canon.

And therefore this means that Mercy knows how to revive the dead.

More than anything, this means that if Mercy is associated with Oasis, that we should be giving a solid, hard look at what exactly this implies for lore. I’m not saying that Oasis “having Lovecraftian connotations is 100% canon,” but rather it is important to note that the types of references a story builds for itself almost certainly influences the type of story it wants to portray. The fact that Mercy has not one, but multiple skins that are related to “raising the dead in morally-ambiguous ways” is telling. She has two Valkyrie skins, the Imp and Devil skins, and the Witch skin (which literally carries “a book of life” on her).

Again, I already know these skins aren’t canon. That’s beside the point. The point here is that all of this combined creates a very ambiguous tone about Mercy and Oasis - the undercurrents of mistrust, the sensation that “something lurks in the city,” the feeling that “humanity is playing with forces it cannot control,” the idea that “a doctor who defies death” lives and works there, the idea that the “in-game embodiment of Death Himself” is going there to “visit an old friend.” These are all things that build an eerie sense of foreboding.

Exactly as Lovecraft would have wanted it.

Lovecraft’s Nameless City builds the groundwork “lore” for his Cthulhu mythology. The “nameless city” is a city in the Arabian desert, older than Babylon, implied to have been “lost” to the ages as humanity began to conquer the earth. The ancient race that built the city retreated underground, where they continued their worship of the Great Old Ones. The human protagonist of The Nameless City wanders deeper and deeper until he is beset by the presence of the ancient race and some form of the Great Old Ones, ostensibly for “intruding on a realm he had no right to access.”

“I think I screamed frantically near the last—I was almost mad—but if I did so my cries were lost in the hell-born babel of the howling wind-wraiths. I tried to crawl against the murderous invisible torrent, but I could not even hold my own as I was pushed slowly and inexorably toward the unknown world. Finally reason must have wholly snapped, for I fell to babbling over and over that unexplainable couplet of the mad Arab Alhazred, who dreamed of the nameless city:

“That is not dead which can eternal lie,

And with strange aeons even death may die.”

Only the grim brooding desert gods know what really took place—what indescribable struggles and scrambles in the dark I endured or what Abaddon guided me back to life, where I must always remember and shiver in the night-wind till oblivion—or worse—claims me. Monstrous, unnatural, colossal, was the thing—too far beyond all the ideas of man to be believed except in the silent damnable small hours when one cannot sleep.”

Here again we have a reference that “humanity is toying with forces it cannot hope to control” - time and death, an understanding of the universe much larger than “simple mortal sentience” can bear. Above all else, The Nameless City is where the author of Lovecraft’s mythological Necronomicon first begins writing the book, which originally has an Arabic title of “Al Azif,” loosely translated by Lovecraft himself as “that nocturnal sound (made by insects) supposed to be the howling of demons.”

Demons being jinn/djinn, or “genies.” And there is one character in Overwatch who has a Djinn skin.

2. God Programs and Null Sector

It always struck me as odd that Zenyatta has not one, but four mythology references that are NOT Tibetan or Nepalese in the slightest. In fact, he has two Djinn-based skins and two Egyptian skins (Ra and Sunyatta) which always seemed better suited to Ana or Pharah. Zenyatta did not get a Tibetan skin until the Halloween special, where he got a death-based skin with a Tibetan skull cap (again - I get this is not canon, but it is telling that his Halloween reference was to skull artwork). I do not doubt that Zenyatta’s skins - much like the other skins in the game - are simply following “a rule of cool” but like Mercy’s skins, they should give us some pause. In mythology, the djinn are trickster-type creatures that can span a range of morality (again, very similar to Mercy’s Valkyrie and Witch skins), and their whimsical natures certainly match Zenyatta’s, even if their origin is a bit far from Nepal.

The Ra and Sunyatta skins, however, are really interesting when you consider the fact that the only “canon” God Program currently revealed is Anubis.

For those of you that don’t know, Anubis is featured in Pharah’s comic “Mission Statement,” where it is revealed to be a supercomputer Omnic dubbed “a God Program” that is capable of mind-controlling other Omnics.

Which, you know, is the kind of stuff that Lovecraft’s Great Old Ones are capable of doing.

What is not stated outright in the Mission Statement comic, but is instead implied (once again, by Reaper) in Old Soldiers and in other in-game dialogue, is that Helix Securities is somehow “messing around” with “something beyond their control” by doing strange and possibly unethical experiments on Anubis, and that Anubis “lashed out” against them (causing Helix to send in Pharah’s Raptora squad to put it down).

The only other characters to have Egyptian mythology skins are Pharah herself (shockingly called “Anubis”) and her mother Ana (“Horus”). It is implied in Old Soldiers that Ana is attempting to “find out” what happened in Mission Statement through a Talon associate Harkim (the man Reaper speaks to).

So what does this mean?

Once again, humanity is playing with forces much larger than itself - in this case, a literal supercomputer that rivals “gods” - and the effects of this trickle down all the way to Pharah, Ana, and Reaper, who have to struggle with the aftermath of this “small scale disaster.” Only unlike Oasis, where a lot of the “inferences” are “non-canon” or simply implied, Mission Statement is canon to the overarching lore. While the “Egyptian god skins” are non necessarily canon, we can see that Blizzard is pulling in characters like Pharah, Ana, and Zenyatta into a shared “background mythos,” much like Mercy and Oasis.

And this has direct implications on Uprising’s lore and background.

In the Uprising comic, we see that Null Sector arises from pushback against anti-Omnic sentiments in London, which city officials and Mondatta were trying to rectify when Null Sector attacked. Overwatch - more specifically, Commander Jack Morrison and his fellow leaders Ana Amari and Gabriel Reyes - are put in a position where they are forced to make a difficult choice: stand on the sidelines and watch the situation deteriorate even further, or take action and risk getting in further international trouble with their Director and the rest of the world’s governments. As most people know, they do the latter.

“Canon Overwatch lore” shows that a team of four - Reinhardt, Mercy, Tracer, and Torbjorn - go into King’s Row and deliver a bomb before taking down Null Sector’s main base and freeing the hostages. But what is extremely interesting are a number of the new interactions - both canon and non-canon - that can be found in the mode.

(Note that most of these are based on memory):

1. A Torbjorn-Tracer interaction in which Tracer protests that “Not all Omnics are like this.” Torbjorn responds along the lines of “Look around - this has happened before and this will happen again!” He seems to be implying that the normal King’s Row map - in which a group of attackers is trying to push an EMP to the Power Plant to disable “hostile Omnic forces” - is a result of the consequences of the events of Uprising, and even that Null Sector may return in the future. However, this also builds on the old adage of “history repeats itself” which once again is a major thematic issue of Overwatch.

2. Null Sector troopers will say the lines of “Error: Faulty Programming” when Zenyatta’s discord orb is placed on them in All Heroes mode. 3. Orisa has a new voiceline when being revived where she says “I think I saw the Iris.”

The last two are super fascinating because we have two new ideas being presented here. The first is that Zenyatta’s discord orb operates by disrupting mental or computational abilities and works by “disorienting” enemies, allowing allies to target them in their “mentally weakened state.” Even though this interaction is not canon, it once again builds on the idea of mind control/mind effect that Anubis and Lovecraft’s Great Old Ones have. Zenyatta’s standard lines about the ability - “Bask in the shadow of doubt.” “Darkness falls.” “You are your own worst enemy.” “There is disquiet in your soul.” - are among some of the most ominous and sinister lines in the game. With this, Zenyatta’s ties to the “background mythos” of “uncontrollable chaos” lurking at the edges of Overwatch’s fictional world get much stronger, especially now that it’s shown he can perform these same abilities on other Omnics.

Orisa’s new voiceline is extra telling because previously it was implied that “only enlightened Omnics” could see the entity known as “The Iris,” but now a “one month old” Omnic with limited experiences in the world has implied that she has seen it upon her death and “resurrection” (once again, we should be thinking of all the shady stuff about Mercy here). Since Bastion does not have the ability to speak any known human language (oh look, another lowkey Babel reference), Orisa is now the third Omnic character to confirm the existence of the Iris outside of Zenyatta and Mondatta.

3. Gazing into the abyss - Sombra, The Eye Conspiracy, and the Popol Vuh

I know that other people have already put forward the idea that the Eye featured at the center of Sombra’s conspiracy web is “the Iris” - personally, I’m not a big fan of the idea but I want to examine it because the motif of “eyes” is recurring in Overwatch. We have, at a glance (heh): 1. Ana and Pharah both having “eyes of Horus” tattoos.

2. Ana, Reinhardt, and Torbjorn are all missing eyes.

3. Soldier: 76 with his “enhanced vision” thanks to Tactical Visor.

4. Widowmaker’s “multi-view” camera headgear.

5. Hanzo’s “eyes of the dragon.”

6. Zenyatta’s Iris references.

7. Winston and Mei both wear glasses (and reference it).

8. Sombra’s Eye conspiracy.

9. Orisa’s new voiceline about the Iris.

10. Multiple characters in masks or headgear that obscure their eyes.

11. McCree’s “Deadeye” ultimate.

12. The literal name of “Overwatch.”

I’ve probably missed some, but in any case, the associated motifs of eyes/vision/watching things is constant and ubiquitous in Overwatch (even down to the name of the game itself), which wraps about around to the very blunt and obvious “Who watches the Watchmen” theme that the series has going on. With Uprising, we have the implied idea that “Overwatch has steadily overgrown its original parameters and started acting as ‘world police’ for justice and assistance.” It may mean well, but ultimately, Overwatch is directly told by Director Petras, the UK government, and public protests (shown on the news blurbs) that “its oversight and protections” are no longer wanted or needed, even if its intentions are good and pure.

It is not surprising then, that the idea of Overwatch “becoming too ambitious - even with good intentions” brought down the “wrath” of something even larger than it, something with the ability to move forces such as Talon, LumériCo, Volskaya, etc.

Something that “watches” the “Overwatchmen.”

Personally, I think the idea that the Eye Conspiracy being the same as The Iris is a little on-the-nose, especially since a lot of the “background mythos” is a series of obscure references that require semi-inane “connecting the dots” to find (am I self-depreciating here? Yes), but it is a promising theory, especially with the new stuff surround Null Sector, Zenyatta, and Orisa. So while I don’t want to talk to much about “what the Eye Conspiracy could be,” I do want to get into a little bit of “background mythos” around Sombra -

Because it too involves “deaths that cannot die.”

Dorado itself was rather blindly (hah) designed by the Overwatch team who, in their haste to make a “bright, colorful village map,” drew references from an Italian city by the sea (gj guys, way to double-check your sources). But the LumériCo power plant was almost certainly designed based on the Laguna Verde Nuclear Power Plant, which exists in almost the exact same location as Dorado’s maps (note that the in-game map within the LumériCo appears to be incorrect, as the Uprising map confirms that Dorado is supposed to be further south on the Gulf of Mexico). More than anything else, the LumériCo power plants are designed to evoke the pyramids of Aztec and Mayan design. These were massive stone builds of ritual, political, and social power that were meant to mimic the mountains that gods such as the Feathered Serpent, Tlaloc/Chaac, and Huitzilopochtli were believed to live on. They were also meant to be displays of power and regality by various kings, queens, and rulers.

So like the Temple of Anubis, the LumériCo power plant is a remixing of “real world mythologies” with the dev team’s “vision of the future,” a vision where humanity celebrates its diversity and the beauty of its multitude of ideas and histories with a “futuristic twist.”

But what it also implies is that Portero - the CEO of LumériCo - is imposing himself as a psuedo-ruler in Mexico.

And that’s not just me “reading the inferences” like with Oasis or Mercy. This is outright what Sombra calls him in the Sombra ARG.

“Long live the King!

“The King Guillermo Portero of LumériCo invites cordially, his loyal servants, to participate in his crowning event and to celebrate his infinite greed and treason toward the people of México. We gave coordinated the publication of info that demonstrates that Portero is a viper, that have for a long time ripoff the riches of our country for his own wealth. He has corrupted our government, turned our sisters and brothers into beggars, and he won’t stop until controlling the whole country under his dominance. But we, Los Muertos, won’t tolerate the celebration of his reign of corruption. We’ll demonstrate to our new conquistadores (conquerors) who will take the reins of the future of our country! On November 1st, we’ll dethrone the King Viper and we’ll celebrate the recovery of our home.”

Surrounding Sombra and Los Muertos is a mythos of revolution and resistance, notably against a “new world oligarchy” of which Sombra perceives Portero to be “only the start.” In Infiltration we see her take on Katya Volskaya through blackmail and “trickery,” and in her Origins video, Sombra outright declares war on “The Eye Conspiracy.”

“I’ll find out who really runs the world. I’ll find their weaknesses and how to exploit them. And when I do - I’ll be the one pulling the strings.”

Whether intentional or not, Sombra’s arching story and its motifs parallels one of the major Mayan mythologies - the Hero Twins of the Popol Vuh. The Hero Twins are symbols of life and death, war and peace, day and night. In the most famous version of their adventures, the Hero Twins take on the lords of Xibalba (the underworld) and “beat them at their own games” using information, trickery, and cunning. In some versions of the myth, they go on to become the Sun and the Moon, and watch over the world for the rest of eternity.

We have seen Sombra challenge “the reign” of Portero and through her leaks, she forced him to resign under public humiliation. We have seen her start to make a move against Volskaya Industries. And we know, from her interactions with Reaper, that she is semi-aware that “something is going on with someone in Oasis.” Michael Chu has stated that Sombra’s interactions with Reaper are canon, and therefore, “the shadow” and “Death himself” are relatively close (as implied by the “you don’t mind if I call you Gabe, do you?”/”stick to the mission” interaction).

Interesting here too, again whether intentional or not, is the idea that figures who represent or are associated with Death - Sombra, Los Muertos, Reaper, Null Sector, Zenyatta, Anubis, Mercy - are “pushing back” against much larger powers, resisting against those who “watch the Overwatchmen,” and trying to reclaim power.

4. I’m not the one with the statue.

Before there was Lovecraft, before the Nameless City, before the Cthulhu mythos, there was Shelley’s Ozymandias.

“I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:

And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

Surprise, surprise - a Very Important Statue of a Very Important Character in Overwatch got referenced in Uprising. Surprise, surprise - this same statue was depicted from The Very Beginning in the Museum Heist short, before Soldier: 76/Jack Morrison had even been revealed as a character.

Surprise, surprise - this very same statue is implied to have been blown up in the Swiss Base explosion (you can actually see a “trunkless leg” in the Soldier: 76 Origins video).

And - surprise, surprise - Ozymandias is the “superhero alter-ego name” of Adrian Viedt in Watchmen, the “true antagonist” of the story and whose jaded, misguided morals designs an “impending disaster” in order to try and force humanity to unite against it.

“Before Manhattan leaves to create life in another galaxy, Veidt asks him if he "did the right thing in the end". Manhattan replies that "In the end? Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends", leaving Veidt in doubt about how long the peace will last.”

In Watchmen, there are constant themes of “history repeats itself” and “humanity’s arrogance and desire for personal short-term satisfaction outweigh idealism and hope for long-term peace and prosperity.” And of course the ever prevalent theme of “Who watches the Watchmen?”

And since Overwatch straight up rips off Watchmen, it’s not surprising at all that these major themes have worked themselves into the “background mythos” and outright lore of the game, its characters, and its world. Of course, Overwatch attempts to portray its version of Ozymandias - Jack Morrison/Soldier: 76 - in a more...morally acceptable light, framing his decisions as “doing the right thing but ultimately sacrificing his ‘empire’ for it.” If anything, Uprising shows Morrison as a character “setting out on the right track, but ultimately brought down by the corruption of the larger forces in the world - the conspiracy that invades his organization, that seemingly ‘brings down and blinds (hah) his friends Ana and Gabriel,’ and that literally attempts to kill him.”

Of course, when you read between the lines of the Uprising comic, we can see that “the rest of the world” has begun to perceive Overwatch a rather different way - as a policing force that has started to overstep its bounds, impose its ambitions of “peace” upon the world “through means of trickery and deceit (Blackwatch) and even outright control methods (Overwatch Strike Team),�� and aims to “reach for the impossible.”

And so we come to the idea of “the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.”

Much like the Tower of Babel, much like Mission Statement, much like the Sombra ARG, we have a recurring “background story” where “the larger powers that be” are fighting (from their perspective) to “keep humanity in its rightful place,” to restrict and lay low its ambitions and “arrogance,” to show that - no matter how well-meaning - overstepping one’s bounds will result in disaster and strife. If Overwatch could not achieve global peace “through its Strike Teams and Blackwatch,” then how can anyone else?

If the Ozymandias of the poem could not maintain his empire and his power, if even Time Itself brought him down and ruined “his works,” if even Time Itself could wear down on the Nameless City, if even after twenty to thirty years of hard work for peace could not solidify Overwatch’s worth in the world -

Then what will defy Time Itself?

What will break the cycle of history repeating itself?

Overwatch has set up a few “routes” - all of them paralleling each other - out of this “background mythos of endless horror and despair” it has built for itself.

The first is Recalled Overwatch - the “Neutral/Chaotic Good” route. In this Route, Winston and Tracer have begun to rebuild the fallen Overwatch from the rubble, in direct defiance of the Petras Act. We know that, in due time, Genji attempts to join them (after Dragons), and that he invites Hanzo along. Other agents who receive the Recall notice are Mercy, McCree, Reinhardt, and Torbjorn. This is the route that will “do things the right way this time,” where “the darkness” is fought back with “the light,” where “discord and disquiet” are overcome by “harmony and tranquility.” The uncertainty here is that there is nothing which prevents this route from repeating the same history as its predecessor.

The second is the Old Soldiers - the “True Neutral/Chaotic Neutral” route. In this route, we have Soldier: 76 and Ana setting off on their own, looking for “answers” to the “war that never ends.” What exactly Soldier and Ana are looking for is unknown - arguably, they’re looking for a way to bring down the conspiracy that ended Overwatch, but this is never stated outright. The problem with this route is that since there’s only two of them, they may never find what they are looking for.

The third route is the “Even Death may die” - the “True Neutral/Chaotic Evil” route. This is the route that, in my opinion, is by far the most interesting. It is the route that follows Sombra, Reaper, and Widowmaker. We know for certain that Sombra is out to find and control “the larger forces that really run the world,” and arguably Reaper “may be in on this plan.” Widowmaker’s role in this is uncertain. This is the route that probably parallels the Hero Twins - descending into “the underworld” to fight “the Lords of Death” with tricks, cunning, and intelligence, besting them at their own games. This is the route that would counter “whatever Great Old Ones exist” in Overwatch’s world with their own abilities - Sombra’s hacking and systems, Reaper’s inability to die, and (if she’s part of it) Widowmaker’s sniping abilities. The issue with this route is that there is nothing preventing these individuals from being “corrupted” by the same forces that “corrupted” the Eye Conspiracy and led to the fall of Overwatch.

One thing I want to stress is that none of these routes are necessarily “morally or ethically correct.”

After all -

It depends on how you see it.

There is a lot here for the development team to play with. It’s taken them quite a lot of time to get their feet on the ground, but now that they have an increasingly solid foundation to work on, they can build their bizarre and beautiful world however they want, with increasingly interesting and oddball references. With Uprising, we got stuff as wonderfully whimsical as the Selfie and Baby highlight intros, the Contra sprays, the Null Sector skins, etc, but we also got stuff as eerie and surreal as the Zenyatta discord orb lines, Orisa’s “Was that the Iris?” line, the strong implication of Null Sector using reprogramming to make Bastions and OR-14s fight against their will, and Torbjorn’s lines of “this has happened before and it will happen again.”

What the Overwatch team is building here is a series of “range of canon” background mythologies (some that are “non-canon but merely background white noise that colors how the players view the world,” to “these are kinda sorta canon and you should be paying attention to how we use these references,” to “these are outright canon and we will be using them blatantly for whatever we want”) that develop the world in a set of unique ways. Even for the stuff that “isn’t canon,” it still exists in the game and it still tints how players interact with the characters, their personalities, and their story arcs. Reaper’s Mariachi skins and Zenyatta’s Djinn skins may never matter “in the overall story,” but they still show small “slices” of personality that reveal something new about them. Similarly, Zenyatta’s lines about his discord orb may never “make it to canon,” but they still demonstrate that “something dark” lurks within them.

And this is, arguably, both the strength and weakness of this style of storytelling: anything and everything is open and available for use. You can design a world where a map references the Tower of Babel and more or less imply that “the doctor who defies death” lives there, but you can change this at the drop of a hat. You can create a robot monk whose abilities rely on amplifying “the disquiet” in other characters’ souls, but then say that his statements on these abilities are not “canon.” You can craft a narrative surrounding three old comrades who have had a major falling out and then leave massive gaps in the explanation for this problem. You gain freedom, flexibility, and openness in exchange for lore that stands on a foundation as steady as shifting sands.

So yes, I know that like half of this essay or whatever “isn’t canon.” But if Mercy’s Witch skin has impacted how you view her, or knowledge of Watchmen has impacted how you understand Overwatch as a whole, or hearing Orisa’s voiceline about the Iris has changed your perception of it, then does it matter “how canon” it is?

If it has impacted how you see it

Then it has already influenced how you interpret it.

---------

This doesn’t even BEGIN to cover all the apocalypse references made by characters like Roadhog, Junkrat, Ana, Reaper, etc. There are, frankly, a massive amount of voicelines that - once again - shade how the player perceives the characters and the world of Overwatch at large. This doesn’t even cover backstories like Reaper or Mei or D.va, that latter of whom straight up has Godzilla/Evangelion references in her background. And this doesn’t even cover stuff like the battle of Eichenwalde, or Deadlock, or “HAL-fred Glitchbot” (who is literally a reference to HAL and Alfred Hitchcock, both elements of “Hollywood horror”), or even the issues around Los Muertos. There’s a ton here that shows that the Overwatch devs are dropping apocalyptic and/or horror references as varied as Mad Max to Apocalypse Now to 2001: A Space Odyssey to Neon Genesis Evangelion to The Headless Horseman to “the grandfather of all sci-fi” Frankenstein to “the grandfather of American macabre Romanticism” Edgar Allan Poe.

The “background mythos” of Overwatch is filled with horror story references - everything from The Raven, to Thriller, to Psycho. Behind the bright colors and beautiful maps are canon stories that imply something darker - a God Program being contained against its will, a yakuza clan that “needs to be reigned in,” a city “building the tallest tower in the world,” an arms-dealing gang “coming back into power,” an EMP being delivered to “hostile Omincs” - and a whole slew of “non-canon references” that display something even deeper, “even darker” that lurks beneath them all.

#overwatch #overwatch lore #my essays #my writing #i don't even know what to call this #sorry to drop this on yall on a sunday night #lol #references #ideas #inspiration

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iamtooarealdoctor · 8 years ago

Text

Diary 5.7.87

Today certainly has been...eventful. And this evening finds us unexpectedly back in Shrouded Hills. If nothing else it should confound any pursuers we might have acquired. I do not care for magick, but teleportation is certainly extremely useful. And it is good to see Straf using his powers in aid of our purposes for a change. But I get ahead of myself.

The day began far too early with a scream in the wee hours of the morning. Room 3 at the Mushroom has now been scene to two murders in as many days. It was a grisly sight - the victim (one Sheila of ill-repute) torn limb from limb, the walls positively caked with blood, and her head entirely absent, or I might have attempted some reassembly. And on the wall, cleverly hidden by a painting so that we did not discover it until much later, a dark sigil and a name: L’anamelach. Dyna, in the adjacent room, had been woken by a massive magickal discharge, and this fact, combined with the name and the landlord’s testimony of seeing glowing red eyes has led us to believe that the Whitechurch Killer may in fact be a demon. We feared at first that Dante had done these awful deeds, but it seems that Caladon is beset by a second demonic presence, one that preceded our arrival and travels, it seems, via sewer grates.

When the police arrived at the scene, their captain, an irritable halfling named Henderson, deputized us at once, presumably out of frustration with his own constables, despite all our best attempts to appear wholly innocuous. We have been charged with finding this killer and putting a stop to his murdering ways. As refreshing as it is to have full official sanction on our activities, we had hoped to escape any police notice whatsoever, and this mission has flung us back halfway across the continent. When we accepted, I had no idea of the extent of the delay this would cause...but we have no choice. This miscreant murders a lady a night, and will continue to do so until we make an end to him. Haste, however vital, cannot be paid for in the lives of others.

With no thought yet of the turns this would take us on, we retired once more after giving our stories to Henderson and his men. When we rose once more, we made our way first to the Panarii temple, with the hopes of perhaps finding one who might be able to banish demons. I admit I hoped also for news of Elder Joachim, or perhaps a way to contact him, but he remains as elusive as ever. The temple in Caladon is of wholly different stature and quality than the previous Panarii installations we have visited. It is a grandiose cathedral, towering and well arched, and behind the altar is a massive figure, complete with wings of literal fire - a pair well-crafted and well-stocked braziers. Very impressive. We met with an acolyte who could tell us neither his name nor anything useful whatsoever; First Acolyte Alexander is apparently away on pilgrimage, investigating reports of Nasrudin Reborn, and will answer all our questions when he returns. I have some very disappointing news for him...

Our trip was not entirely fruitless because it did yield an opportunity to read the famed Archeon, the Panarii holy text, which tells of the final confrontation between Nasrudin and Arronax. Although it was sadly devoid of useful details about how Arronax might be defeated, being more concerned with Nasrudin’s Goodness and Arronax’s Wickedness, it did say that the confrontation took place at a landmark called the Black Spire, which we were told is in or near Roseborough. It also mentioned that Nasrudin built his own final resting place at the southernmost tip of the land; surely, that must be in Caladon, but if it were, would not the Panarii know about it? I should like to visit this tomb, if its location can be discovered. I have some choice words for the Living One.

The Panarii temple is at the far side of town, and almost adjacent to the workshops of the ubiquitous Heironeus Maxim. His was the maker’s mark on the Flying Machines that brought down the IFS Zephyr all that time ago. But it seems he was as much of a victim as we are! He told us that yes, the Flying Machines (he called them Aero-Planes) were of his design, but that his laboratories were raided and his prototypes stolen - by Half-Ogres bearing the mark of the Gnomish Industrial Council! The sorry state of his workshop even two years later corroborates this story, and the loss of his prototypes has left him a broken and discredited man. He was overjoyed to learn that we had photographic evidence of his Aero-Planes in flight, still intact on the plates of the broken camera I recovered from the crash. He has given me copies of the prints and promised to repair the camera for my use as well, and to Dyna he gave a Medical Arachnid - he has in fact offered us any help he may in return for our role in repairing is reputation. Maxim seems a kindly soul, who wants nothing more than to be left in peace with his machines. He seeks only to invent and thereby improve the world around him, and is utterly devoid of ambition. He has a great love for creating things, both functional and beautiful, and for studying all that he can. He is a good man, and we are all better for knowing him.

Our conversation with him did reveal some disturbing information that I do not fully know what to make of. Firstly, a potential connection between the Gnomish Industrial Council and the Molochian Hand seems an alliance almost too terrible to contemplate. Myriad enemies working at cross-purposes is preferable, I think, to a single all-powerful one. And I shudder to think how their interests could possibly align. Magick and Technology do not typically keep close company. Equally worrying, in a very different way, is the study he has made of Salaakkan. For yes! Maxim too knows of that anomalous moon, and seems to have made more careful observation of it than even Buxington, aided perhaps by superior telescopy of his own invention. While he did not believe our theory that Salaakkan actually passes through the Void in its orbit, his calculations reveal that it draws closer to our world with every pass. This can only end in cataclysm, should it eventually draw too near to escape us again. But if Maxim can build a craft that flies, despite being heavier than air, perhaps he can build a craft that will carry us to the stars themselves - or at least to the moons.

After passing a happy morning with Maxim, we proceeded at last to the police station to do our civic duty. We spoke with a...lady of negotiable affection... named Cecilia, who had witnessed the first murder, her colleague Emily. Her description corroborated our hypothesis of a demon as the culprit, but she also described him as slight of build with slicked back hair, possibly Elvish, and as standing in the floor. We now believe that this is because he uses the sewer system to travel, for we found sewer grates at both crime scenes. This in turn suggests a rather more corporeal demon than our Dante - a mortal being possessed by a demonic entity. The crime scene also revealed that poor Emily had been wholly exsanguinated, for what purpose I cannot guess. Some strange compulsion drives this L’anamelach. Why should a demon care about prostitutes? And why perform these grisly rituals upon them?

We obtained a map to the sewer system without difficulty, for everyone in Caladon is both more professionally competent and conscienciously helpful than their Tarantian counterparts, and from there I set out to learn something more about demons. I can conclude this much: magick users are universally terrifying, but demons are perhaps even more so. The police put me in touch with the local expert in all things occult, the proprietress of the local magick shop, a blind seeress whose name escapes me utterly. She, too, was singularly helpful - Caladon is truly a remarkable city. This is not the first demonic incursion into Caladon it seems; some 50 years ago, the city was beset by the demon Amlach, who was ultimately dispatched at great cost by none other than the excitable Captain Henderson. I also learned, to my great distress, that Dante is no ordinary familiar. Rather, it is one of the G’yon-she, the Lords of Hell, of whom only 13 exist. And we have released it upon the mortal world. It seems that the only reliable way to dispel it is the death of its controlling mage - that is, Wolf. This...may be an acceptable price. She might also be able to dismiss it herself through a contest of wills, but I worry about the consequences should she fail...

Meanwhile Straf got his beans identified, and managed not to get us all thrown out of the shop. Ah yes. Straf has acquired “magick beans” from a pair of bickering halfling gardeners. To my eyes they are indistinguishable from any other phaseolus - they could be P. vulgaris even - but Dyna’s allergy testified to their magickal nature. The three, though clearly of a type, have turned out to have distinct properties: they are, I am told, a Seed of Extirpation, a Pod of Regeneration, and a Pip of Menstruation. While the utility of the first two is obvious, the third is simply bizarre. The Pod of Regeneration is of particular interest to me, as I have kept some of Straf’s molted skin against this very eventuality; it is possible that with some care I might be able to return him to his original form. Or create a second ancillary Straf, which would be...terrible.

And speaking of which...in our absence, Dyna has...upgraded Norman. Into an automaton, of the type we fought in Ashbury. He is 8 feet tall and appears to have the mind of a toddler. For the present. The new medical arachnid she has named Holly. They are...friends. I can only hope we are a better influence upon him than we have been upon the young and impressionable in the past, and that we have not merely created yet another unstoppable killing machine. He seems...affectionate...? But he has already learned to swear, and I am ...wary of what the future holds.

But in the immediate sense the future holds a wholly unexpected diversion. For, upon consultation with Captain Henderson, and a demonologist contact of his at the University of Tarant, it seems that any given demon can only be slain by a specific dagger, and the blade marked for L’anamelach lies in a place called the Pit of Fire, on the eastern side of the Stonewall Range, several days south of Shrouded Hills. So we go now to retrieve it, and then return to Caladon, and then confront this demon in the sewers, and then, perhaps, return to our pursuit of the village of the Dark Elves. Straf has learned teleportation, which makes things somewhat easier, and so we are at last back in Shrouded Hills, and will depart for the Pit of Fire on the morrow. At least no one should be seeking us here, for the time being, and we seem to have weathered Caladon with no ill-effects - unless being sent halfway around the world on this errand counts as one, but it is a pleasant country here and I have no complaints. And perhaps some solution to the problem of Dante will present itself along the way.

#Arcanum #Arcanum: Of Steamworks and Magick Obscura #the Diary of Thaddeus Moss

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focusontheeasternlightning-blog · 6 years ago

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Will We Be Raptured Into God’s Kingdom Upon the Second Coming of the Lord?

By Wang Zhen

It is said in the Bible, “For with the heart man believes to righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made to salvation” (Romans 10:10).

Many of us therefore believe that by believing in the Lord Jesus, we are already saved and once saved always saved, so when the Lord returns we will automatically be raptured into the kingdom of heaven. However, some brothers and sisters feel perplexed: We commit sins in the day and confess them at night, and often lose our tempers at people; we frequently tell lies and are capable of deceiving people and God, and haven’t become as a little child. God is holy, and absolutely no sinner is permitted to enter the kingdom of heaven. So, will the Lord rapture people like us when He returns?

This question is really worth seeking, for it is directly related to the important issue of whether or not we can enter into the kingdom of heaven when the second coming of the Lord arrives. In order to find the answer, we need to understand this question: What is the meaning of being saved? Think back to the late period during the Age of Law. Because mankind was being corrupted more and more deeply by Satan, they committed more and more sins. If this continued, man would face the danger of being executed by the laws. God took mercy on mankind, however, and in order to save mankind He became flesh to preach the gospel of the heavenly kingdom. He healed the sick, cast out demons and brought people rich and bountiful grace; He taught man to love each other and to be tolerant, humble and patient. In the end, He was crucified and became the sin offering for all mankind. From that point on, so long as we repented and confessed our sins and prayed to the name of the Lord Jesus, then we would no longer be condemned by the laws because of our faith, and we would be saved. Just as it is recorded in the Bible: “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death” (Romans 8:1–2). “That if you shall confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus, and shall believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you shall be saved” (Romans 10:9). Therefore, “being saved by faith” that we talk about means that our sins are absolved, and that we won’t be condemned or sentenced to death by the laws—this is the true meaning of being saved.

How then will the Lord do His work to purify and change our corrupt dispositions when His second coming arrives? In fact, the Lord Jesus has told us about this aspect. He said: “I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. However, when He, the Spirit of truth, is come, He will guide you into all truth: for He shall not speak of Himself; but whatever He shall hear, that shall He speak: and He will show you things to come” (John 16:12–13). “And if any man hear My words, and believe not, I judge him not: for I came not to judge the world, but to save the world. He that rejects Me, and receives not My words, has one that judges him: the word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the last day” (John 12:47–48). The Bible also says: “So Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and to them that look for Him shall He appear the second time without sin to salvation” (Hebrews 9:28). From this we can see that God has many things to say and has the work of judgment to do, but because people’s statures in the Age of Grace were too small, and also because mankind has been too profoundly corrupted, God needs to save and change us stage by stage. Therefore, God first became flesh to redeem mankind and grant us redemption, and in the last days when His second coming arrives, He will tell us about all the truth we do not understand, reveal all mysteries to us, and do a stage of judgment work to thoroughly cleanse us and allow us to become compatible with Him. Only when we have our satanic dispositions purified and become people who do the will of the heavenly Father can we achieve the standards for entering into the kingdom of heaven, and only then are we qualified to be raptured into heaven.

Through the fellowship above, we can determine that when the Lord comes back, He will express new words to the churches and do the work of judgment and purification. So, if someone testifies to us that the Lord has already returned and is expressing His words and doing His work of judgment beginning in God’s family, it is very likely that this is the appearance of God. The Lord Jesus said: “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear My voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with Me” (Revelation 3:20). “And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom comes; go you out to meet him” (Matthew 25:6). We should be the wise virgins, pay attention to hearing God’s voice and actively seek, rather than live within our notions and imaginings and refuse to listen, see, seek and investigate. This is the only way that we won’t shut the Lord outside and are able to welcome His second coming.

Recommended:

How to Repent to God to Be After His Heart: Gaining Inspiration From the Story of King David

#Spiritual Resources #Entering the Kingdom of Heaven #How to Enter the Kingdom of Heaven #Free From Sin

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realpaperclipsmagazine-blog · 7 years ago

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As the New Year Comes

Different feelings and expectations as the year 2017 comes nearer to its end. As the curtains of 2017 slowly roll down, another year is threatening to come. Oh, the word threatening is quite inappropriate to use. Of course, even if new challenges are sure to come, new opportunities would flow along with double the figure. So, we should think positively and strive hard to achieve what the new rooms for individual and communal growth could offer. But knowing that the year is already at its end, we can’t help but be beset with several questions. In this Paperclips Magazine new issue, here are few of the common questions and what other authors have to say: 1) If you could have a New Year’s wish, what would that be? My New Year’s wish is, I wish God would send down his angels to fight the demons that are infested in bodies that want to destroy our country. - Judy A. King , author of Yellow Star My New Year’s wish would be that my book, The Saints of Bogby Baptist Church could be successful. - Jerry Stafford , author of The Saints of Bogby Baptist Church: An Allegorical Study of Living If I knew that my wish was to become reality, it would have been tantamount to ruling the World and I would wish that in 2018 the people of the World started electing leaders who have the wisdom to master the law of unintended consequences of their decisions. - Yuri Feynberg , author of Child of Gulag In 2018, I would begin retirement from psychology practice so my wish is that I will be productive in sharing with my family and learning. Also, I want to do some consulting works in my writing. Also, to recognize how blessed I am to be this healthy at 80 years old. Mainly, next year, that I will be very alert and try to live my faith and take care of my family especially my wife who has health problems. Continue the opportunities right now to continue in consulting work and that I may be able to do some workshops regarding Blending Families and at the same time, never stop to learn anything new. - Max Price, author of Blending Families: The Honeymoon Comes Later My one wish would be for every animal to live in a home and/or with a family that will cherish them for the precious gifts they are. #adoptdontshop #rescuedog - Amanda Hopkins, author of Daisy Dog Book Series My wish would be for everyone to have unconditional love for animals and each another. - Barbara Poole, author of The Diaries of Liberty the Pug May each day be an opportunity for love to gift all I influence. - Nancy Williams, author of A Return From Grief 2) If you could celebrate the new year, anywhere in the world, where would you go and why? I would return to the large parks in Africa to see once more the elephants, wildebeests, lions, zebras and other animals there. I would do so because this experience of survival in the wild demonstrates my passion: attachment and evolution. Thanks again. - Dr. Mark Beischel, author of Calming the Brain Through Mindfulness Hiking on the Golan Height, with walking staff firmly in hand, cogitating my thoughts as I look both ways and thinking about the history of the region. - David Paul Anderson, author of The Book of Talyara If I could celebrate the New Year anywhere I would celebrate it in Italy either on the Amalfi coast or Siena. Italy is beautiful and rich in culture and history and the food is fantastic. I have been there twice and would like to take my wife there and celebrate the New Year there I think it would be a funfilled night. Since both grandparents came from Italy it would be fun to celebrate it with my cousins that I never met. - Joe Marino, author of Autumn of Life: A Guide to Aging and Dying At first, I thought, I’d love to celebrate in Hawaii, since I’ve never been there; or maybe fly back to some places we’ve been like Flagstaff and Sedona in Arizona. But finally, after giving it much consideration, and some serious meditation; I realized that there IS a very special place ~ Only one of its kind actually ~ where I’d truly love to celebrate this and every year forthcoming. And that place is; The Johnson Park/Lake House, which is extremely special to me. It’s a glorious, wonderful property where I wake up every day to a serene lake-view, enhanced by a glorious, Golden sunrise and the beautiful, peaceful sounds of nature in the backdrop— various birds singing, water gently rippling, and soft breezes whispering through the majestic oak trees that have been artistically positioned upon the property. All of which I enjoy from the balcony attached to the master bedroom suite. And, I end each day with an equally majestic Amber/Russet sunset view over that same serene lake! Breath-taking doesn’t even come close to how to describe it… so, All I’ll say about it is… WOW!!! - Dr. Truth, author of Now I Know! 3) Are you sad to see the old year pass? Like the previous years, 2017 was a good year. My granddaughter phoned me in February, telling me that I was to be a great grandpa. (In truth I thought I was already a great gran pap.) In the spring I got my house painted and all the rotten soffits removed, and replaced. Now I was really feeling that I was on a roll. Many more events followed through— from bad news like death of few friends and being admitted to the hospital due to a contagious disease; to good news like getting a strange email from Legaia Books, wanting to publish my book Mars Star-Walker. Things began to turn around for me. Now three of my books have just been published and currently reside at Amazon Books as well as Kindle Books. - D.L. Calvin, author of Killing for Love No. it’s been a rich year and I’ve enjoyed it. I’ve accomplished a few things during this year. I’m never sad to see a year goes and I’m always glad to see a new year come because there are new promises next year. - Laurence W. Thomas, author of Nostalgia Is in the Future: and other exaggerations So, am I sorry to see the old year pass? I have never really pondered that question, but I guess my answer is ‘No’. Not because it wasn’t a good year, in fact, it was great, but more for looking forward to next year. You could answer this question in so many different ways; for me, I will just choose one approach. I think one of the many ways to measure a year is by ‘Getting’ and ‘Giving’. Speaking for myself, and I don’t think I am alone, my early years were mainly about ‘Getting’. Things like a new car, a pay raise, a big year-end bonus, a promotion, a bigger house and any number of other ‘Things’. The problem with this is that these ‘Things’ lose their luster rather quickly. Then you are on to the next ‘Thing’. As I have grown older, and maybe even a little more mature, I find that ‘Giving’ makes me happier and the luster lasts longer, especially as I lay my head on the pillow each night. These memories have become priceless. So, since finally coming to this realization, I “Give” as much as I can. Not only to make someone happy, but to also make myself happy in the process. - Walter Conley Barthell, author of PEP Talk- A Primer For The New (Or Not So New) Manager Or Coach My answer is shocking, even to myself, but true to what I know to be the facts that have been revealed to me by the Word and Holy Spirit of God, especially recently, because, I see (things getting progressively worse and worse), making this year’s weather disasters actually appear tamer, in comparison to what we will face in the coming months and sevenyear time period. The truth is that, many of God’s children weren’t even listening or looking for the signs Jesus told us to expect, and what seems to be a biblical Tribulation time period is clearly signaling the arrival of the Anti-Christ, himself, who we are now facing currently as a powerful political personality, leading the United States as genuine American believers in Christ. That situation alone should wake us up and cause us to draw closer to God, seeing the implication are astounding, to say the least. - Anthony Solimine Jr., author of Who Said God Can’t Speak Through an Ass No. I’m excited about my life as is presently in December. I’m looking forward for January and the entire year after. - Allan Walter Trent, author of John and Olga Read the full article

#author #authors #entertainment #Fun #interview #newyear #paperclips #PaperclipsMagazine

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doycetopia · 8 years ago

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Dungeon World Character Creation Thread

img[src<em>='#left']{ float: left; } img[src='#right']{ float: right; }

We’re starting up a mini-campaign of Dungeon World, with most of the conversation taking place in a single private Google+ conversation thread.

But it was too good, so I’m saving most of it here for posterity.

Okay, I think the plan I’m going to go with is running a Dungeon World thing, followed by a Masks thing. (I’m especially jazzed about Masks since I just got a new packet of playbooks from the Kickstarter yesterday, but patience…)

SO, here’s the particulars.

The Roll20 page is [link redacted] – you can jump in there and open a character sheet and put in stats and moves as you like, if you’re super motivated. (Mike, your Artificer is in there already.)

Dungeon World is baaaasically a PBTA take on classic DnD, so the standard DnD classes are there: Fighter, Wizard, Cleric, et cetera, and you can dig into alternate playbooks if you want to go the Basic DnD route of “Dwarf is a character class” or whatever. The System Resource document has all the basic classes, but seriously if you have some kind of fantasy trope you want to play, ask, because it probably exists out there somewhere.

Once I know what people are playing, I will hit you with personality and background questions.

The tone of the game will be fantasy closer to White Dwarf and Heavy Metal magazine covers than The Hobbit. Magic is powerful, weird, and dangerous.

We’ll be using Flags instead of Bonds, so ignore Bonds in the rules.

That’s about everything I can think of right now.

Yay! Glad to finally be back to Dungeon World and interested in how Flags play out. Might I also suggest this document.

Oh I like those! Good stuff!

Basically, unless you’re a bard or some other highly social character (some priests might qualify), pick or design two flags for people to hit. If you’re super-social, three.

BTW Doyce, are we still going to be doing the thing with the timeloop where my artificer remembers what happened that you’d mentioned in the previous thread, or are we doing something else? Will probably help me determine my Flags.

What do you think? I was thinking something like you suddenly find yourself riding a horse on the way to Frostberry at the base of the mountain, with these people you know, but also with that other set of very vivid (but fading?) “memories”… it would tie into your experiments in the cabin pretty well.

Or you could play someone else and your other guy can be a backup character following someone’s gruesome death.

Actually, Mike, I was looking over my notes from that other session, and guess what? During the lead-in questions, we found out that group was actually the SECOND group you were heading to the mountain with – the first group was wiped out before you ever got to the mountain.

HOW LONG HAVE YOU BE TRYING TO REACH THE PEAK?

(~Ash tries to play it cool as he relives a hellish groundhog day scenario for the 113th time…~)

I’d forgotten all about that. Man, Ash really shouldn’t have played with that clock… every single time.

I kind of like the idea of Ash just flashing back to town, with a brand new group of adventurers ready to head up to the Mountain. “Gods below, why is it always a new group of people? Why do the memories always end when we get to the door? Why is it always the same day but everything is different? Maybe things will turn out differently this time…”

I love this, so much.

Also of use: the dungeonworldsrd.com site has a section just on Character Creation – nice, since the actual character class pages don’t cover things like “what stat numbers you get.”

I’ve been re-reading the Flags article Doyce originally linked to at http://walkingmind.evilhat.com – From Bonds to Flags.

(Saying this aloud to be sure I get the idea): a Flag is a Significant Personality Trait, with how others can tap it to demonstrate it (both trait and tap being something that makes the game interesting) and so earn them an XP.

I would say the label of a flag is usually expressed as a personality trait, although the actual flag itself is the action that somebody takes to point at that personality trait

To go down a little bit further, it’s not just a personality trait that your character has, it’s an aspect of your character that you think will be FUN to see called out fairly regularly in play. People are going to be getting Xp rewards for hitting this thing, so they’re going to want to hit it. if you don’t want to see it… actually I’m going to say that if you don’t think you’ll enjoy seeing it repeatedly, pick something else.

(As a side note, and not to discourage anyone, but bearing in mind that this is meant to be a short campaign, it may not be necessary to boil the ocean to create our characters. Though I’ll confess I have several paragraphs of backstory already written …)

He’s going to feel so silly when he dies in the first room.

No worries, I can run an immediate sequel campaign using Wraith: the Oblivion.

Is there a mechanical reason to put the Flags in the Roll20 Bio page, vs. putting them in on the main character sheet as if they were Bonds?

(We’ll probably want to gather all of those into a convenient document, since we need to know each other’s Flags more than our own.)

The bio page is the only page that other people can see, other than the people who can actually edit the character sheet. So you can see the part of the sheet with all the stats and numbers and moves, but somebody else looking at your sheet can only see that bio page. So if I wanted to see what flags to hit on your character, I can click on your character sheet and see those flags on the front page, but I won’t be able to see them if they’re inside your character sheet, and even if I could see them in the character sheet they’re a lot harder to find in there.

Basically I would put them in both places, but I’m weird like that.

Put another way: The bio page is basically for everything you want other people to see and know about your character

Poifect, thanks.

Did anyone else figure out what they are playing?

Dave’s got a bard, Mike is doing his Artificer, Kay is I think gravitating toward a Ranger or Fighter. I don’t know about Margie yet, and my personal experience with her character choices, while extensive, isn’t deep enough to let me guess.

I do know that she’s usually as willing as you are to fill a needed gap, so you need not wait.

Right now, the ‘gaps’ are primarily thief- and fighter- or cleric-shaped, I think?

That said, it’s three sort of hybrid classes so far, so more dual-mode stuff (an unclassed ‘elf’ or ‘dwarf’ or something, for example) also works.

Knowledge/lore stuff can be covered by both the Artificer and Bard, but don’t let that rule out a Cleric or proper spell-caster.

I mean, really, I’d say go for whatever type of play most appeals to you – if you guys don’t end up with a bend-bars/lift gates or lockpick person, you’ll have to work the problems another way.

I shall sing to the iron bars and they shall part to let me pass!

Or … most likely not.

My favorite part about the alternate Bard playbook is that it’s specifically designed to remove the ‘singing with a lute in the middle of a fight’ stuff.

Okay, stock Thief is statted in Roll20.

I will noodge the kinfolk.

Bill, you say “stock thief” but the image makes me think of a very specific thief who wants my HP or my GP. 😉

I’m not picky.

“Cowardly: Put us in situations I can justly complain about.”

Well, there’s everyone XP fountain for the game.

PERFECT.

Hey, Ash and Basler can complain about everything together! 😀

Actually just noticed that they both have the same flag, just named slightly different; I found mine under the Lawful header, but I figured I’d rename it for something more character appropriate.

Hmm. Yeah, that duplicate flag might be troublesome. Something to ponder. Hmm…

Oh I don’t know Doyce, that just means that Ash and Basler will want different things to complain about. Can’t speak for Bill, but from the Cowardly tag it sounds like he wants Basler to complain about being put into dangerous situations that he doesn’t want that he can complain about. “Hey Basler, this hallway looks suspicious. Mind taking a look?” “Oh, I don’t know…”

I see Ash’s more of seeing other people in danger and after helping them, complaining about being put upon to help. (just making some assumptions here…) Eduard: “Oh no, I’m being beset on all sides! Someone help me!” Ash: disgusted noise “I swear, if I wasn’t around to pull your butts out of the fire.”

Sure it’s a slight distinction, but I can see it being quiet different in play. Sort of an internal vs. external dynamic, if that makes sense.

I am 100% on board if you guys are.

Kay has given you all a marvelous gift for this campaign.

“Go fight that demon! This talisman will protect you.”

By the time that PC dies, the rest of us will have leveled up enough to beat it.

Actual conversation I had with kay on Roll20 tonight:

“Seriously, can I trust the thief?”

GM looks at your ‘Gullible’ flag.

“Absolutely.”

This whole thread is a national treasure.

Just checked out all the characters on the Roll20 page and I must say I’m very excited for tonight’s game.

Yeah, thank goodness this is just a one-off adventure, otherwise folk might have put real effort into devising interesting characters …

If you guys don’t end up destroying the world, I will keep them around for additional Adventures.

original post

#randomaverage

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nezzfiction · 8 years ago

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ENMY Chapter 34 - Dual Nature

Chapter Synopsis: Yang takes a step closer to finding her true place in the world, for the worse or for the better.

Series Synopsis : Team RWBY is disbanded, and Yang must find herself new allies. For her, yesterday’s enemies are today’s friends(?). Joining up with the likes of Emerald, Mercury, and Neo, the four comprise Team Enemy.

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below

Dual Nature

It is a precarious moment

When the person we desire to be

Either joins or disappears

With who we become.

When Yang became aware, she realized she was standing on the surface of a vast ocean.

The last thing she remembered was taking the Dust and Bane shards. Her mother and father watching patiently over her. And then, nothing.

Now, she was here.

Instead of sinking into the water, her boots planted on it like it were solid ground. The smallest shift of her feet sent a thin ripple out for miles.

Yang scanned 360 degrees around her, but spotted no land in sight. Just an endless horizon that seemed to stretch for eternity.

The sky was clear blue, without a single cloud in sight. It almost melded completely into the ocean’s surface, like a dizzying mirror effect.

“This is…different,” Yang muttered. “Am I in the Never Realm?”

“The minds of Remnant’s inhabitants drift closest to the Never Realm, when they are dreaming,” loomed a dark, bellowing voice.

Yang went on instant alert, checking all sides for the source. Still, she found nothing but empty space.

“Who are you?”

“Do you not recognize me?”

“…You’re that voice in my dreams.”

“So you do remember. Dreams are often difficult to recall. But recalling them in a dream comes easier.”

“A dream—makes sense. Why don’t you show yourself, so we can have a nice face to face?”

“I am before you. You need only look.”

As soon as Yang drew her gaze down, she had to stop herself from giving a frightful yelp.

A great leviathan swam just beneath the water’s surface. Its long, reptilian body was as thick as a train car—twining and snaking across. There was no telling the creature’s true length and girth. And just the sight of it made Yang feel too small and too out in the open.

“Do not be afraid,” another voice came. This one brighter and clear.

Another monstrous entity moved under her feet. It was not as long as the other, but just as massive with its great wingspan. The feathers on its tail danced with trails of various colored ribbons. An intense benevolence emanated from it, overwhelming Yang in a different way.

The girl swallowed her fear with a strainful gulp.

“You two are the halves within me?” she managed to eke out. “My Semblances.”

“”Yes,”” they answered in unison.

“Though, the other should have ceased to hold such sway long ago.”

“Indeed,” the lighter voice chuckled.

“If it wasn’t for that meddler.”

“Who are you guys talking about?”

“The one you call Masa Moon. She must have foresaw this.”

“What does she have to do with anything?”

The mention of the robotic-eyed doctor and weapon tech confused her.

“The arm she forged you functions in accordance with your Valor. Tis the only reason I remain viable. For you would have depended on the other, if differently.”

“I see…So, dad was right? I can overwrite the Reaper’s Semblance, then?”

“Your exceptional nature forces that choice upon you.”

“The duality that exists within your soul is most peculiar. A heart stained in equal parts black…”

“…and equal parts white.”

“Decisions made with nefarious intent…”

“…actions taken in noble sentiment.”

“”A dual nature. Therefore, you must judge and be judged.””

Yang almost made a fleeting backstep upon the vague images of two titanic heads rising to the surface. Their shadows growing larger and larger as they approached. But just as they broke the water, the leviathans took on different forms. Ones much smaller.

They emerged before Yang, two separate copies of herself.

The variant to her right, was clouded in black miasma. Its eyes ran a piercing scarlet. And the arm, that was supposed to be prosthetic, was a demonic claw-like limb. The bloodthirst reaching out from it was so thick it was palpable.

To her left, was a form of her beset with multicolored flames. The heat given off was so intense, it bent the air around it. Combined with its luminescence, Yang had trouble just standing in its presence. The figure, threatening to engulf her entirely.

“A great many battles await you. As does the most powerful adversary of them all,” the dark voice boomed. “You require me.”

Yang forced herself to look at them straight on.

“The Reaper’s Semblance.”

“Accepting yourself and your past takes true strength. Your wounds are painful, but from them, derive fortitude.” Yang’s darker self conjured Winter’s body out of thin air, clutching her neck in its grasp. “Never forget. Never turn away. Be firm in your conviction.” It tossed the corpse at Yang’s feet.

She flinched, but did her best to remain firm.

“After experiencing Em’s hallucinated traumas, I can’t let something like this shake me too much. No matter how much it hurts,” Yang gritted her teeth.

Still, she wanted to reach out for Winter’s body.

But the corpse sunk into the watery depths, and the fiery version of Yang began her piece.

“You possess a great heart, a valiant one of compassion and a willingness. Silencing it will cast shadows of doubt and breed disquiet in your soul. With clarity, you will burn brighter than any star. You will grow, you will change, and you will roar.”

It held a flame in its hand, and within the blaze were memories of Yang’s highest and lowest points.

She felt herself experiencing those moments again. The emotions threatened to consume her from within, and overflow. A sensation of being drowned made her heart pump dangerously fast.

Yang shut her eyes tight and kept her balance.

“So…! I pick one of you, and that’s what I become? That’s the deal, right?” she struggled to speak.

“”Yes,”” they responded together.

“What happens after that? What happens to the other…’Yang’?”

There was a slight pause.

“You must choose one of us to be your ally. Together, we will defeat the other.”

“Although, the enemy you deem, will surely summon resistance. A dreadful foe depending on your decision.”

“Bear in mind, it is no easy task to defeat one of us, even with the other’s help.”

“This is a trial with your very soul as wager. You must be resolved.”

“You must not be discouraged.”

“You must devour.”

“You must be noble.”

Yang weighed their words.

“But one of you has to ’die’?”

“”That is correct,”” the doppelgangers echoed. “”To take one identity means to kill the other. The road not taken, ceases to exist. It is natural.””

Yang heard them and understood…

…

But she still didn’t like it.

In truth, Yang had her own biases from the very start. Her parents meant well, and so did the figures before her. But she couldn’t shake off the first thought that came to mind, when she first heard their proposals.

Her answer was ridiculously straightforward and simple. It was what she lived by. And suddenly, she did not care for the “natures” of her Semblances, or their ultimatum. They could both leave her, and she would merely find another way.

The thought alone, lifted an enormous weight from her shoulders, and she regained her confidence.

“Hmmm~” Yang’s lips twisted into a mischievous grin. “I’ve got a better idea~”

The flame and shadow apparitions looked at her curiously, then awaited her answer.

She inhaled deep, and filled her lungs with air. Yang balled up her uncertainties into her hands and clenched her fist.

“How about—you both come at me?” The girl wiped her nose with a cocky sneer. “And the winner takes all.”

Yang stomped her feet on the liquid surface and entered her fighting stance. Her lead right hand extended, and then beckoned them both forward—a gesture of taunting and unwavering confidence.

“”This is your answer?””

“Yup! NOW, BRING IT ON!!!”

* * * * *

“Hm?”

Yang stood dumbstruck at the scene of carnage before her.

The sparring grounds she had been taught to fight in since she was little, was now in complete ruins. Random pockets of flames flicked about. Craters dotted all across the earth, like the aftermaths of a meteor shower.

But perhaps most worthy of note, were Yang’s parents.

Blood trickled down Taiyang’s cheek, while Raven’s shoulder piece armor was caved in, with a part of it fractured off. Both of them looked rough and scraped in a few places. Their weapons directed at her.

Yang’s attention drifted to her own body’s condition, and found she too appeared to have been through a fight.

“You back to your senses, sunshine?” her father asked tiredly.

“Yeah…dad…” she scratched the back of her head in an awkward manner. “Did I do all this?”

“Nothing your father won’t be able to fix,” Raven answered, while sheathing her sword. She tried to fix her messy hair, but failed. “More importantly, how did the trial go?”

But it was in that instant, Raven and Taiyang sensed Yang’s Semblance activate. Both of them tensed on instinct. Their sixth sense triggered more violently than when she had gone berserk.

They both noticed their daughter watching them with a powerful gaze. Raven was the first to understand it wasn’t the Reaper’s Semblance, but something else entirely.

“It went pretty good,” Yang answered her.

She observed the cracks of light in her parents’ bodies. The scars fluctuated and sparked like live electricity or flame.

It was just as Yang first thought about her Semblance.

They are beautiful.

She showed her parents a gentle, but also cocky smile.

I can see them.

The Life In All Things.

//p4-ca!<�@ߗX

#rwby #ENMY #rwby fanfic #rwby fanfiction #rwby au #yang xiao long #emerald sustrai #mercury black #neo

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love-god-forever · 6 years ago

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Will Sinners Such as Us Go to Heaven Upon Jesus Coming Back?

By Wang Zhen

It is said in the Bible, “For with the heart man believes to righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made to salvation” (Romans 10:10). Many of us therefore believe that by believing in the Lord Jesus, we are already saved and once saved always saved, so when the Lord returns we will automatically be raptured into the kingdom of heaven. However, some brothers and sisters feel perplexed: We commit sins in the day and confess them at night, and often lose our tempers at people; we frequently tell lies and are capable of deceiving people and God, and haven’t become as a little child. God is holy, and absolutely no sinner is permitted to enter the kingdom of heaven. So, will the Lord rapture people like us when He returns?

How then will the Lord do His work to purify and change our corrupt dispositions when His second coming arrives? In fact, the Lord Jesus has told us about this aspect. He said: “I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. However, when He, the Spirit of truth, is come, He will guide you into all truth: for He shall not speak of Himself; but whatever He shall hear, that shall He speak: and He will show you things to come” (John 16:12–13). “And if any man hear My words, and believe not, I judge him not: for I came not to judge the world, but to save the world. He that rejects Me, and receives not My words, has one that judges him: the word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the last day” (John 12:47–48). The Bible also says: “So Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and to them that look for Him shall He appear the second time without sin to salvation” (Hebrews 9:28). From this we can see that God has many things to say and has the work of judgment to do, but because people’s statures in the Age of Grace were too small, and also because mankind has been too profoundly corrupted, God needs to save and change us stage by stage. Therefore, God first became flesh to redeem mankind and grant us redemption, and in the last days when His second coming arrives, He will tell us about all the truth we do not understand, reveal all mysteries to us, and do a stage of judgment work to thoroughly cleanse us and allow us to become compatible with Him. Only when we have our satanic dispositions purified and become people who do the will of the heavenly Father can we achieve the standards for entering into the kingdom of heaven, and only then are we qualified to be raptured into heaven.

#Bible Study Topics #Who Can Enter Into the Kingdom of God

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