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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years ago

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History comes to life; Ahkmenrah x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well this has been a LOOOOONG time coming in. For years I’ve alwasy wanted to try and write an Ahkmenrah fanfic and thanks to a Wattpad friend of mine, she gave me that chance. So here we are with my first Ahkmenrah fanfic. Now this is only part 1 and I’ll try to have pt.2 up as soon as I can. Hope you all enjoy this fic my lovelies :)

UPDATE: PART 2 IS HERE

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@dancingcoolcat

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@kairosfreddie

@queendeakyy

@geek-and-proud

@simonedk

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2006. New York City. The Museum of Natural History. My home away from home. I mean to a college girl going for a master’s degree history that’s a lot, and all at the age of 23. Yeah whenever it came to school I was always deemed the ‘smart one’ or in some cases the ‘nerd’.

Was Valedictorian in high school, completed my bachelor’s degree within my first 2 years of college and now I’m completing a 4 year master’s degree. Not only that but I once did an entire year abroad in Egypt as a part of one of my courses that gave me 3 credits for one of my History courses.

And now here I am completing an internship credit instead of going for a core course credit, here at the Museum of Natural History. So far into my second week of my three month internship it’s been pretty good. Since I’m also having to write my dissertation about the ruling of Ahkmenrah, this place has been a great place to think.

Whenever I wasn’t needed by the boss, Dr. McPhee, you would normally find me in the Ancient Egypt hall, sitting in the room of the pharaoh himself writing my paper. And I know it sounds crazy but sometimes I wish that I could actually have the chance to speak with him, I mean if I’m to complete my dissertation I wish to know things that I didn’t already know (there’s only so much you can find on the Internet).

Little did I know that that day would soon come, and it all started with a blast from the past.

I was currently walking down the steps after completing my day here at the museum when I saw walking with Cecil, one of the three night guards an old ‘boss’ you could say.

“Well I’ll be damned. Larry Daley.” I greeted as I came up to them.

“Oh hey, hi uhh…..” ahh the same old Larry forgetful Daley.

“(Y/n) (l/n). I used to live down the road from you guys.”

“Oh right sorry! Wow it’s been a long time.”

“Yeah about 3 years since I graduated high school.” I said with a smile.

“So I see you know our new nightguard huh Ms. (l/n)?” asked Cecil.

“Yeah I’ve babysit his son since the day he was born. How is Nicky by the way?”

“Oh he’s you know good. Fine. Loving hockey.”

“Oh that boy and his hockey. I remember he tried to get me to play it in the house and we ended up breaking that lamp.”

“Yeah thanks for reporting that.”

“Even though he tried to convince me not to speak of it.” I giggled. “So Cecil says you’re going to be the new night guard?”

“Yep. Just showing Larry around, giving him a little tour before his shift tomorrow night.” Cecil explained.

“Well, welcome to the team.”

“So do you work here too?”

“Oh no I’m just here for an internship credit but Dr. McPhee has allowed me to do further researching even after my internship’s up.”

“Read her dissertation a couple of days ago, she’s quite the researcher. Any further questions you can always ask her.” Cecil said.

“Oh Cecil you old charmer stop it. Well I better get out of here before traffic gets too crazy. Bye Cecil, Mr. Daley, welcome aboard again and I hope to see you before your shift tomorrow.”

“Yeah of course, see yah then (y/n).” I smiled and gave the gentlemen a nod goodbye before bundling up and walking out into the New York winter air.

I was now at home typing up what I had written down on paper and transferred it to the rest of my dissertation that was on Word. I heard my door open and in came in my mom and she said.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay mama, just half a minute and I’ll have everything typed up.”

“Sweetie you’ve been working non-stop ever since you got home. You can step aside for ten minutes to eat dinner.” I looked up at her then saved the changes I had and said.

“Fine mama, you win.” She grinned down and said to me.

“I always do. Until you become a mother yourself, you’ll never win.” I scowled up at her before the two of us walked out of my room and headed downstairs to eat.

As we ate our dinner, I told her about my progress and about Mr. Daley now working for the museum as the new nightguard.

“Wow, Larry Daley. Hadn’t heard from him in a while. Not since the official divorce.”

“Wait what?”

“Oh honey I’m sorry to tell you this but Larry and Erica were going through a divorce this past year.”

“Ahh man. How’s Nicky taking it?” I asked.

“Well last time I ever talked to Larry he told me it was a joint custody agreement. Now whether that went through or not I’m not sure.”

“It must’ve, I mean he did say Nicky was still playing hockey so that must mean he gets to have Nicky at least some days of the week, maybe the weekends.”

“Erica was always hard on him. Even when they first got together. Don’t tell her I said that though.”

“I promise mom.”

After dinner, I took the dishes and cleaned them out before placing them in the dishwasher before going back to my paper. Before I even knew it when I finally ran out of ideas and edits, I saw that it was after midnight. So after saving everything I shut my laptop off and got ready for bed.

The next day it was like any other day. I went in, did my rounds for Dr. McPhee, organized some files and edited some papers. Then after my lunch break I had time to do my paper for the final 4 hours of my day today. Even with the small crowd of people in the Pharaoh’s tomb, I wasn’t really bothered or distracted from doing my dissertation.

In fact I was so invested into it that I almost didn’t hear the voice speak over me.

“Hard worker as ever.” I looked up and smiled at Mr. Daley.

“So, ready for your first night tonight?”

“I don’t think it should be that hard. I mean not really anything happens in a museum at night.”

“Do you got a second? Just wanted to see if you’re interested in a cup of coffee. Colleague to colleague?”

“So not just for the sake of me being your old babysitter? Is that all I am to you now, just a colleague?”

“No. I mean yes. But not in that way I mean I was just…..” I laughed and said.

“I’m just pulling your buttons Mr. Daley. I’d love to get a cup of coffee. Maybe even educate you on what you’ll be guarding.” I packed up my stuff and we both headed out to the coffeeshop just down the block from the museum.

As we walked around Central Park he asked me.

“So that paper you were writing earlier, what’s it on?”

“Oh it’s my dissertation paper for my master’s degree.”

“Masters?! Wait so you already got your bachelor’s?”

“Yeah. I got it just last year. Now for my masters I’m doing the full 4 years so in total I’ll be doing 6 years of college.”

“Wow, sounds exhausting.”

“It can be, but I can’t help it. I’ve got a thirst for knowledge. And as an ancient civilizations concentrator I can’t help but want more.”

“Yep your mom always did call you her little book worm.” I smiled and nodded. “So that paper.”

“Oh yes that. Well I’m doing my dissertation on the ruling of Ahkmenrah and how he was the most justified ruler Ancient Egypt had ever known. Sure there have been good pharaoh’s but I’m setting to prove just how fair and just Ahkmenrah truly was as a ruler. Even with his short time as king.”

“How long did he rule?”

“Well he was given the crown by his father when he was just 16 and ruled for only 4 years before he was murdered by his own brother.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, his brother was extremely jealous of Ahkmenrah. So much so that after murdering his brother, he tried to claim the throne only to throw Egypt into despair in just under a year of his ruling.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Ahkmenrah sought to treat everyone with a kind but firm hand when need be. Did you know that he was the only pharaoh known to be kind to the Hebrew slaves?”

“I did not.”

“Yeah. He even tried to seek out a fair system where they wouldn’t have to work on their sacred holidays. Of course it wasn’t passed yet because well—he died just before he could declare it a law.”

“Wow, things would’ve turned out very differently had that happened.”

“Yeah. Cecil’s also been a good resource too since he was there when he found his tomb when he was just a kid.”

“Cecil found Ahkmenrah’s tomb?”

“Yeah. The three sarcophagus’ of him and his parents.”

“But wait I thought you said he had a brother?”

“He was. His brother wasn’t buried with them. Kahmunrah was condemned to be mummified alive and buried in a tomb far beyond the royal family’s because of what he had done.”

“Wow that’s—horrifying. Don’t they like rip their guts out or something?”

“All their organs were placed into jeweled canopic jars.”

“Wow. I think I lost my appetite to drink this coffee now.”

“Sorry Mr. Daley, I can be a little assertive when describing some of the things the Ancient Egyptians did. But you should’ve seen me when I actually got to set foot in an actual mummification area.”

“So you actually went to Egypt?”

“Yeah last year during my bachelor’s degree last spring. I spent an entire semester down there. Learned a lot, and I can speak a little Arabic. Ancient Egyptian is a little rusty but I know like a word or two.”

“So if you could, could you read what’s written around the tomb of Ahkmenrah?”

“Now you’re really challenging me Mr. Daley.”

“Thought you said you loved a challenge?” I chuckled.

“That I did. But sadly no. Probably a word or two as I said.” I looked down at my watch and said. ��“It’s almost sunset, better get back to the museum less you wanna get fired on your first day. I’ll check in on you first thing tomorrow.”

“Okay, thanks for the little history lesson on the pharaoh (y/n).”

“Anytime. And here, give me your phone.” He handed it to me and I went through his contacts to see if he still had my number. Turns out he didn’t so I went ahead and gave him my new number since I got a new phone. “Here, any questions or concerns or if you just wanna chat. Give me a call.”

“Thanks (y/n). Anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

“Give me a chance to see that knucklehead Nicky again and we’ll call it even.”

“Will do.”

“Well good luck Larry.”

“Thanks.” I waved goodbye and walked back towards the nearest exit and hailed down a taxi and told them my address.

As I lay down in my bed after typing up the next several pages of my paper, I charged up my flip phone since it was almost dead from this week’s use.

“Hope Larry’s liking his new job. I’d give anything to stay the night in that place.” I stretched myself out and cuddled into my bed before falling asleep.

Bright and early the next morning I got around and headed on out of the house.

“Mama I’m heading out!” I cried out.

“Have a good day sweetie, give my love to Larry for me.”

“Will do mama.” I gathered up my stuff and took the bus toward the museum.

Once I got there, I entered inside just to see Mr. Daley walk out.

“So how was the first night?” he looked at me like he had just been through a rumble with Mike Tyson or the Rock as he said.

“Well I—”

“Dad.” A young boy’s voice said. We both turned to see Nicky walking with another man with short black hair and looked younger than Mr. Daley.

“Hey, hey buddy. What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh Erica had to be in court early today so I’m taking Mr. Big stuff here to school. But he wanted to swing by see your new job.” The man explained with a smile.

“It’s so awesome that you’re working here.” Nicky praised.

“Well your dad gets a praise but I don’t get so much as a hello?” I teased.

“(Y/n)!” he came up and hugged me and I hugged the little monkey back. “Do you work here too?”

“No I’m just here as an intern for a couple of months.”

“So Nicky whose your friend here?” the man asked.

“Right, (y/n) this is Don. Erica’s new uhh…well he’s her new….” Larry tried to explain but Don butted in by saying with a business man snake-like smile.

“I’m her boyfriend. So you’re the famous (y/n) the babysitter I’ve heard about.”

“Yeah. So you’re the new guy huh?” I looked over him once over and all I saw was a monkey in a suit with an earpiece to his ear.

“Yeah.” He shrugged like it was nothing. “Hey Nicko. Wanna take a lookie-do inside. Maybe your dad or your friend can give you a VIP tour?”

“You know what we’re actually kinda slammed this morning but I promise I’ll show you around soon bud, deal?”

“Deal. Love you dad.”

“Love you too.” Nicky hugged his dad and Mr. Daley gave Nick a kiss on the top of his head before he and Don walked hand in hand across the crosswalk before heading towards his school. “Yeah Erica and I are going through a—”

“I know, mom told me the other night. I’m so sorry. You both seemed really happy together.”

“Yeah well sometimes life happens. I’m just thankful I get Nick on Wednesdays and every other weekend.” He said solemnly as he kept his eyes on Nicky.

“Were you really thinking about quitting?”

“How did you…..”

“I’ve seen that walk so many times with my friends. Hell I’ve even done that walk before once at the Library of Congress. So c’mon Mr. Daley the truth.”

“Last night was……intense I’ll admit. But I really want Nick to be proud of me, and not see me as…..ordinary.”

“As Teddy Roosevelt once said, ‘some men are born great, others have greatness thrust upon them’. Maybe this is your moment. Look I know being the night guard may not be the funniest job ever for you. But don’t do it for yourself, do it for Nicky.” I said as I placed my hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me and said.

“You truly were the best babysitter Nicky ever had. No wonder how he got so wise.”

“History geek, you get great life quotes. Not just from Star Wars or Lord of the Rings.” I then skipped up the steps and walked inside.

“Oi intern!” I sighed heavily. Even after 2 weeks he never really does call me by my name.

“Yes Dr. McPhee?”

“The Egyptian tour guide called in sick this morning, I want you to take over his shift. You’ve got the better resume to give a tour with your year abroad. So do it.”

“Yes Dr. McPhee.”

“And see to it that the children don’t touch the exhibit. God I hate it when those sticky little monsters think a museum is a-a-a-a-a…..touchy place.” He then turned away mumbling to himself.

“Out of all the bosses I’ve had, he’s by far the goofiest and strictest. But it’s better than organizing files again.” I then went up and Rebecca handed me my Egyptian tour guidance flag and I waited for the first wave of guests which was in fact kids from the middle school I went to years ago.

When the class arrived I greeted them and told them my name and that I would be their tour guide today. I walked them through the Egyptian wing before finally leading them to the tomb of the Pharaoh.

“Now we are finally arriving into the tomb of the pharaoh himself. King Ahkmenrah was known as one of the youngest pharaohs to rule in the Upper kingdom of Egypt in 232 BC. He was even the first pharaoh to be crowned above his older sibling.” It was then I had a young girl raise her hand. “Yes sweetheart?”

“What are these statues?” she gestured towards the 20ft. jackal guards.

“Ahh those are the Anubis guards. The Egyptian god Anubis, Lord of the dead is said to be the judge of the underworld. He would deem by balancing your soul on a scale with sand and if your soul weighed heavier than the sand, you would be damned in the underworld. But if your soul was lighter, you’d be granted peace in the afterlife. His guards which you see up there are the protectors of bodies, especially over the royal families tombs.” I got another hand raise this time from a black child.

“Do the mummy’s really get wrapped up in toilet paper?” at that the kids all laughed, to which I couldn’t help but laugh.

“No. No it’s not toilet paper. They get wrapped in special linen which is sorta like a gauze wrap. How many of you had an injury and your parents would wrap your injury with a sorta white bandage?” I got a few hands raised. “It’s basically that. But before they wrap up the bodies, they expose the body to a type of oil and salt to de-moisturize the body so that it could be preserved from the elements.” Another boy asked.

“What exactly is that gold thing up there?” I looked up and I said.

“Ahh that my dear boy is the tablet of Ahkmenrah himself. It arrived here at this museum in 1952 from the Nile expedition. It is said to bring the dead back to life.”

“Yeah right.” The boy sassed back. Kids today, so desensitized by movies and television.

“It’s a legend but never mock the powers of Egyptian magic. Okay kids, why don’t you have a look around and check him out. But please don’t touch the stone slab.” I then walked aside and the kids all gathered around Ahkmenrah’s sarcophagus. “If only it were real.” I muttered as I sat down and rested my feet.

The day dragged on until finally I was clear to go home. I decided that for tonight, I would leave my dissertation for next time and just immediately go to bed. I covered myself up with my thick warm blanket and was out like a light.

The next day it was just about closing time and once again I was in the tomb of Ahkmenrah. I stared down at his sarcophagus sighing softly.

“Excuse me miss, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to vacate the premises.” I jolted slightly but when I turned around I saw that it was only Mr. Daley.

“Oh sorry, just—kinda got caught up in my thoughts is all.” He switched his flashlight off and walked up to me.

“So this whole Egyptian stuff really—gets to you doesn’t it?”

“Ancient Egypt has probably been one of my most favorite ancient civilization. It’s just fascinating of how the Egyptians were able to build things like the pyramids, the sphinx, and intricate tombs that have endless passages in order to trap graverobbers when they didn’t have the technology we have today. It’s amazing.”

“Yeah, guess that is kinda cool.” We stood there side by side in brief silence before he said, “Hey (y/n), do you really believe History comes to life?”

“I mean yes. In a way all around us we are always being given knowledge of every historical moment. And this museum helps us to actually in a way live through it.”

“I mean do you truly believe that history can come to life?”

“I—don’t get what you’re saying Larry.”

“I mean that…..I tried to tell Rebecca this earlier but she ran off on me. She thought I was making fun of her but I really wasn’t I’m telling the truth, I told her the truth.”

“What truth?” he looked around before he leaned close to me and whispered.

“Everything in this museum comes to life. At night. All because of that tablet. Ever since they brought it here back in 1952, everything in this museum came to life.” I looked at him before saying.

“Uhh—have you been overworking yourself again?”

“No, no I swear to you (y/n) I’m not lying.”

“Look, your shift’s about to start and I should really get going. We’ll—talk about this tomorrow. Goodnight Mr. Daley.” I quickly walked around him but I could hear him trying to call out to me.

As I exited the museum I began thinking back to what he was saying. I mean I know I said that there could be a slight chance that the tablet of Ahkmenrah could hold some magic but this��this is something else. I hailed a cab and asked him to drive me back to my place and in just 10 minutes I arrived back home.

As it got darker and snow began to fall from the sky, what Larry had told me earlier this evening was still spinning in my head. I mean what he said was absolutely crazy, if he was implying that the figurines, statues, and the actual pharaoh himself can come to life at night—he was even crazier than when I first met him.

Suddenly something was thrown at my window. I gasped and turned on my lamp to see the leftover remains of a snowball. I got up from my bed and looked out the window to see some figures standing down along the sidewalk.

From the streetlights I could see that it was Larry and Nicky but along with them were two others. One was dressed up as an Egyptian pharaoh and the other was dressed like Attila the Hun. I put on my coat and boots and quietly walked down the stairs and unlocked the door.

“Nicky? Mr. Daley? What are you guys doing here?”

“Hey (y/n) look I know this is a lot to take in right now and I don’t have a lot of time to explain so I’m gonna cut right to the point. Cecil stole the tablet of Ahkmenrah, along with Gus and Reginald. We have the other two back at the museum but we need your help in getting Cecil.”

“Whoa wait what? Mr. Daley you mean to tell me that the former head of security, someone I’ve looked up to for years has stolen the tablet of Ahkmenrah? Why would he want to steal it?”

“He said he and the other two guards were gonna sell it so that they could get a wealthy long retirement.” Nicky spoke up. I then turned to the two costumed gentlemen and I said.

“Am I missing the historical convention or something?”

“No, no, no. You know how I told you the tablet makes things in the museum come to life? I’d like you to meet Attila the Hun and the pharaoh himself Ahkmenrah.” I turned towards them and almost couldn’t believe it, especially with ‘Ahkmenrah’.

I mean there’s never been a real documented picture of him due to his short reign but—he was kinda cute. Wait what am I saying? This could all be a trick.

It was then Attila said something in Mandarin as he nodded to me. I looked at him confused, that’s when Ahkmenrah said.

“He says he’s honored to meet someone who knows his true history and not the fables that surrounded him.” I walked up to Ahkmenrah and I looked him over. His light blue eyes and sun kissed skin.

“How do I know you’re not just some method actor?”

“I assure you my lady I am no actor. But if you want to test me since you know so much about my history especially, ask me something only I would know.” I crossed my arms at his challenge.

“Okay.” I thought long and hard about a question that only either I or the ‘pharaoh’ himself would know. “How exactly did your brother kill you?” yeah I know it was a dark question but it was all I could think of that was a difficult question. Some scholars have even debated on Ahkmenrah’s death but I alone knew the truth after getting some good research done.

“It was sunset. I had just gotten through with wanting the Jews of Egypt to have free will among my kingdom when my brother called me into the studies to speak about the new law. At first I thought we’d go into another argument about it, but he wanted to drink a celebratory toast in light of the new law. I thought nothing of it so my brother and I drank the wine he had prepared. After the toast, I felt this pain in my stomach and—my brother standing over me with nothing but a cruel smile on his face.”

Oh…….my…..god. It—this was……Ahkmen—he…..Ohhhhhh shit!

“My pharaoh I—” I proceeded to bow before him but he stopped me and he said.

“Please no. There is no need for that.” Oh my god his hands were so warm on my cold ones.

“I—I can’t….I just can’t believe. Oh my god I’ve really fallen off the deep end haven’t I?”

“Told you I wasn’t crazy.” Mr. Daley spoke up.

“Okay, okay I believe you. So where is Cecil at right now?”

“Last we saw him he was heading for Central Park.”

“Then why the hell did you come here for!? Central Park from here is halfway across town compared to the museum! We’ll never catch him on foot.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He then whistled and soon a horse came charging in and stopped right in front of us.

“Uhh Larry I hate to break it to you but we all can’t fit on one horse.”

“Oh I know this is my ride, your ride is Rexy.” I soon heard the thundering footsteps and soon following behind a toy truck was the giant T-Rex that you first see when you walk into the museum. It let out a roar and my mouth just dropped.

“You finally get your Jurassic Park wish huh (y/n)?” Nicky said to me with a wide smile.

“I—I suppose so.” The truck stopped right by us and I took notice of the two small miniatures inside that were inside. The Roman General Octavius and the cowboy Jedidiah.

“We ready to get this rodeo on the show now gigantor?” said Jedidiah.

“Yeah guys. So you remember the plan right? You all round Cecil off and I’ll follow behind him.”

“We’re on it my liege. Everyone hop on. The enemy must not escape our sights!” Octavius proclaimed. Larry and Attila got on top of the horse and the two of them rode off while Nicky, Ahkmenrah and I got on top of Rexy. Ahkmenrah got on first and he held his hand out to me.

I took it and he helped me mount onto the T-Rex. My back was pressed up against his chest and our noses almost touching each other’s.

“Thank you.” I softly whispered in awe.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt. It’s—very different from mounting a horse.” I nodded as I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

“Shall I leave you two alone to get a room?” Nicky sassed out.

“Oh you little twerp just get on.” He grinned smugly as he came up and I told him to be careful as he came and sat in front of me. “K guys we’re ready!” Nicky told the two miniatures suddenly Rexy lunged forward and soon we were running full speed towards Central Park.

Within 10-20 minutes we arrived at Central Park and on the other side through the trees I saw Cecil riding on top of the money carrier horse and coach.

Rexy soon began to run faster which forced me to lean further up against Ahkmenrah. We looked at each other and smiled at each other as I felt him hold onto my waist tighter so that we wouldn’t fall off. Rexy then suddenly took a sharp left and we were now right in front of Cecil’s path.

But then Cecil took a sharp turn right past us just barely missing Rexy’s leg by a few inches. It was then I saw the horrifying sight of the truck that Jedidiah and Octavius were riding in spin out of control until it flipped over a small foot of snow before exploding.

With no bone to follow, Rexy soon stopped and whined and we all looked in the direction where the two miniatures had disappeared to. I saw that Larry had stopped just ahead of us and he was looking right where Jed and Octavius had fallen.

“Rexy let me down boy.” He lowered himself down so that I could get off of him.

“Where are you going?” asked Nicky.

“I’m gonna help your dad end this. Ahkmenrah, can you keep an eye on Nicky?”

“Yes of course.”

“Nicky, stay with him alright?” I told him in my sitter voice and he knew to never go up against me when I used that voice. I hopped off and raced towards Mr. Daley. “Larry!” he turned to me and I said. “I’ve got a plan, but I need you to do exactly what I tell you.” he nodded.

“Hop on.” I got on the back of the horse as Larry said, “C’mon Tex let’s finish this. HIYAH!” soon we took off racing after Cecil.

“Stay close to the back of the coach, I’m gonna try to hop on it and grab the tablet.”

“Are you crazy!?”

“Yeah well it’s been a crazy night. So just do it!” he urged Tex on and soon we were right up on the stagecoach. I reached out as far as I could and missed it a few times before finally getting a grip onto it. Once I pulled myself up, I nodded to him telling him to get Cecil’s attention while I went for the tablet.

“Give me the tablet Cecil!” Larry cried out.

“Can’t do it, son!” the horses whinnied as they ran faster and I slowly crawled up towards Cecil’s back where I could see the glimmer’s of the golden Egyptian tablet.

“Pull over!”

“It ain’t gonna happen. Moving on!”

“Last chance Cecil! Stop the horses or I will!”

“They can’t be stopped, Larry. Don’t you know your history? These are money carriers. They were trained not to stop for anything but a secret word.” I finally grabbed the tablet and pulled it out of the bag as I said.

“You don’t say?” It was then Cecil turned and saw me with the table. “You mean a word like—”

“DAKOTA!” Larry cried out. I then held onto the roof railings of the stage coach as the horses suddenly stopped and Cecil went flying forwards into the snow. As Larry rode up towards Cecil, I got off the stage coach and followed right behind Larry. “Read up on my history, along with a little help from a friend.” Larry said as he turned towards me.

“And by the way. Consider yourself out of my dissertation paper.” I told Cecil.

“And also, never talk to me like that in front of my son.” He then grabbed Cecil and threw his famed words back at him, “Moving on.”

We soon met up back at the stagecoach where Ahkmenrah, Nicky, and Atilla and his Huns came in.

“Oh hey, Huns.” Cecil said nervously as Larry transferred him over to them.

“Tell Atilla to have his boys take him back to the museum, put him back with the rest of the guards.” Larry told Ahkmenrah who then translated it to Attila in his tone. “Oh and uhh no limb ripping, okay?” Larry told Attila.

Attila tried to reason with Larry but he shook his head saying no. That’s when Attila pinched his fingers with a little bit of space between them as he asked Larry.

“Mikaka?” Larry turned to Cecil for a moment before turning back to Attila doing the same thing as he responded.

“Makeekaka.” Hearing that made Attila and his friends very happy as Attila then proclaimed out to his Huns.

“Hey, w-wait. Hold the phone. What’s Makeekaka mean? Wait, translation please?” he asked Ahkmenrah as the Huns picked him up and carried him back to the museum.

“That’ll teach him to steal from the museum.” I bragged. “Not bad Mr. Daley. That was impressive.”

“Hey, couldn’t have done it without those websites you sent me to help me out with the research. You’re the real hero here tonight (y/n).”

“Yeah, and that was so awesome of how you got onto that stagecoach. You were like a superhero back there.” I blushed at Nicky’s praising.

“They are right (y/n).” Ahkmenrah said. “We owe this night to you, thanks to you I once again have my tablet.” I smiled and said.

“It took all of us. Teamwork is what got this back.” I said as I held up the tablet.

“Oh boy.” I heard Larry say grimly.

“What is it?” asked Ahkmenrah.

“I gotta get you guys back to the museum.” He said urgently.

“Why? What happens if they’re not back at the museum? Well besides it being empty.”

“If the exhibits are outside of the museum when the sun comes up, they turn to dust.” He told me. My eyes widened in fear as I turned to Ahkmenrah and he looked at me with a grim expression that expressed the truth.

“How?” asked Nicky as I turned to see half of the museum already here in Central Park.

“It’s gonna take us hours just to wrangle everyone up. And this isn’t even half of the exhibits we need.”

“Ahkmenrah. We’re gonna need your help.” Larry guided me over to the young pharaoh as he continued, “This is your tablet, you know the instructions. We need you to get everyone back.” I handed him his tablet and he took it from my hands.

As we did the transfer, our fingers briefly touched one another’s and I swear to god I thought I felt a spark. I swallowed my little crush (was it a crush? I don’t know) and nodded to him and that’s when Ahkmenrah began to speak in ancient Egyptian as he looked down at the tablet.

As soon as I heard him say his name, the tablet glowed which reflected his face majestically, but that’s when I heard Rexy softly growl as he then began walking back towards the museum. Not only was he walking onward but all the exhibits, it seemed they were all in a trance as they walked on.

With that the four of us left alongside the exhibits and we went to make sure that everyone got back there and to their designated wings safe and sound.

Once everyone was inside, present and accounted for; I walked with Ahkmenrah back to his tomb and he said to me.

“Thank you, for helping me retrieve my tablet (y/n).”

“It was no problem. Really. I’d do it all over again a thousand times if it meant you and the others could live to see another night.” He smiled and as he placed it back to its proper place he asked me.

“Will I see you tonight?”

“Oh I don’t know.” I sighed heavily. “I can’t let Larry just get the boot for this, at least not if I can help it.”

“You have a kind heart (y/n). In another life you would’ve made the perfect Egyptian Queen.” I blushed and laughed shyly. “If that is the case, then it was an honor to finally meet you (y/n).”

“Believe me it was an honor meeting you. I just…wish we had more time. I have so many questions for you.” He smiled and said.

“If the Gods make it to be, perhaps one day we shall cross paths again.” I nodded as I extended my hand out for a handshake. He took it and instead of a handshake, he turned my hand over and kissed the back of it.

I felt my face heat up and butterflies fluttered around my stomach as I nervously smiled.

“Yeah, you too Ahkmenrah.” I then helped him back into his sarcophagus and once I closed it up, I heard nothing but silence. I turned to the Anubis guards who now stood very still and figured that it must be sunrise about now. “Wadaeaan ya fireawn. Num jayidaan.” I whispered as I gently touched Akhmen’s sarcophagus.

I left the Egyptian wing and saw that all the exhibits were now once again either statues once more or had phased back into their wax figurines. I walked down the steps to see the large mess once again.

“You got him back to his wing safely?” asked Larry.

“Yep. Safe and snug in his sarcophagus. C’mon. Let’s clean up whatever we can before McFreak comes in and flips out.”

“(Y/n).” Rebecca scolded me. I shrugged at her as I picked up a broom from the supply closet nearby and handed one to Nicky and the two of us began to collect all the toilet paper that had been tossed around.

When Dr. McPhee did come in, he was definitely not happy. After having Larry and I sit through the news that was talking about all the sightings that had happened last night from Rexy’s footprints in the snow, caveman drawings in the subway and even the Neanderthals up on top of the museum building waving torches in the air.

“Any explanation at all?” he asked the two of us. Larry thought about it before he came to a fake conclusion.

“No. Got nothin’.”

“Me neither.” I answered.

“Right. I’ll take your keys and your flashlight then.” He said as he walked up to Larry before turning towards me and continuing, “And you. Can turn in your membership and research card. You’ll be banned from the museum until further notice.” Larry and I looked at each other before Larry turned in his stuff and I turned in my access card.

He guided us out of his office to let us out of the museum but what we saw was something I had not seen since I was probably a little girl.

The museum was packed! There were probably hundreds maybe even thousands of people walking about, getting tours, checking in, and asking for information about certain figurines or exhibits.

A wide smile spread across my face as I placed my hands over my mouth trying to contain my excitement. But what really got me excited was when Dr. McPhee gave Larry and I back our stuff and gave us a small smile before walking away.

“Oh my god.” I said in awe.

“Seems the news really brought this place back on the map.” Larry said. I then hugged Larry as tight as I could and he hugged me back. “What’s that for?”

“I have no idea. Just—thank you for probably the greatest moment of my life.”

“You sure it don’t have anything to do with the pharaoh just one floor up?” he teased. I playfully punched him as hard as I could in the shoulder.

“I’ll see you tonight Mr. Daley. I’ll even pick up Nicky and bring him here.” I headed off to start my shift since I knew the tour guides needed more help so I decided to lend a hand and help out.

Of course that was fun and all, but the real fun began when the sun went down. With my I-pod hooked up to the stereo on my “Happy feet playlist”, I had my #1 song ‘September’ by Earth, wind and fire playing while all the exhibits were gathered around the main lobby in celebration.

Everyone was either dancing or playing soccer and I couldn’t help but smile at seeing a once ancient pharaoh dance so badly that it was almost embarrassing. Our eyes soon locked with each other and he came over to me and said.

“Come on, let’s dance.”

“Oh no, no, no, no, no I don’t dance Ahkmenrah.”

“This is our party and I demand you dance. By royal decree.” He teased at the end with a wink down at me. Well—who was I to deny a royal pharaoh’s decree?

“Just a little warning for you, I don’t know how to dance.”

“Neither do I.”

“So you’re not at all embarrassed?”

“Not really. We’re amongst friends. And true friends don’t laugh at one another, even in their silly moments. Now come (y/n).” he took my hands and pulled me onto the dance floor and the two of us danced to the beat as silly as we possibly could.

#rami malek #rami malek imagine #rami malek imagines #rami malek fanfic #rami malek x reader #ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x reader #ahkmenrah imagine #ahkmenrah imagines #night at the museum #night at the museum fanfic #might at the museum fanfiction #rami malek fanfiction #night at the museum imagine #night at the museum imagines #night at the museum fanfiction

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religioused · 4 years ago

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When the Spirit is in Charge

by Gary Simpson

Acts 10:44-48 (CEV)

While Peter was still speaking, the Holy Spirit took control of everyone who was listening. Some Jewish followers of the Lord had come with Peter, and they were surprised that the Holy Spirit had been given to Gentiles.

46 Now they were hearing Gentiles speaking unknown languages and praising God. Peter said, "These Gentiles have been given the Holy Spirit, just as we have! I am certain that no one would dare stop us from baptizing them." Peter ordered them to be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ, and they asked him to stay on for a few days.

Reflection:

“While Peter was still speaking, the Holy Spirit took control of everyone.” “The Holy Spirit took control.” Keep this line in mind. We will come back to the theme.

There is a lot going on today. This is Mother’s Day. We are combining Mother’s Day and Father’s Day into one day. We are celebrating family. This is also the second week of Asian History Month.

This is a day when we recognize and appreciate the many people who had parenting roles in our lives, including, but not limited to:

• Biological, foster, and adoptive parents.

• Parents of choice.

• Aunts, uncles, grandparents.

• Teachers.

• Neighbors, employers and supervisors.

As I prepare to light this candle, I encourage you to think of people who provided loving parenting and quasi-parenting roles in your life.

The second candle is for all members of our families.

The third candle is for the Asian people in our community and our lives.

We light these candles as a way of thanking God for the people who built into our lives, for families of origin and families of choice, and for Asians who pioneered Canada and who continue to pioneer Canada.

May is Asian History Month. During May, Canadians are encouraged to learn more about the achievements and contributions of Asian Canadians. A few groups we might not think of as Asian, include:

• Some Arabs, such Lebanese, and some Jewish people, and some Russians.

• Persians, Afghanis, Turks.

• Indians and Pakistanis.

There are so many Asian different countries of ancestry and so many different cultures, languages, and religions that we could spend years learning about our neighbors, friends, classmates, and colleagues.

Currently, I think we might be seeing more hate targeting Asian communities than we have seen at any other time since World War 2. The importance of learning about the history and contributions of Asians is very high. Some people are calling the Coronavirus the Chinese virus. Let’s compare hate crimes before and after the Coronavirus pandemic. A comparison of Vancouver hate crimes between January and September of 2019 and 2020 showed an 878% increase in hate crimes targeting Asians.(1) This is added to the ongoing problem of hate targeting many people of broadly Asian descent. About 18% of all Canadian hate crimes in 2017 targeted Jewish people. In 2017 17% of Canadian hate crimes targeted Muslims.(2) A total of 35% of all hate crimes were religious hate crimes. Because some Muslims and some Jewish people have Asian heritage, this means that some of the religious discrimination is targeting Asian people.

In contemporary society, it almost feels like there is no such thing as a freak accident – somebody always has to be at fault, so we seek to blame and to litigate. So some people are referring to the Coronavirus as the China virus. That might be a factor in the massive increase in hate directed toward Asians.

Because of the pandemic, we are afraid – afraid for our jobs and businesses, our freedom and convenience, our way of life. We are also afraid of getting sick. We may mask our fears with angry outbursts and hate. Some of the anger and fear targets Asian people. Fearing members of other groups, xenophobia, is nothing new. Some xenophobia was probably working behind the scenes in ancient Palestine.

Perhaps, Jewish people had reason to feel a little threatened by non-Jewish people. There is a history of conflict ranging over more than 4,400 years. An USA Today article indicates that Jerusalem was captured and recaptured at least 20 times. Conflict over Jerusalem seems to have started no later than 2,500 years before Christ and ended in 1967.(3) Over 575 years before Christ, Solomon's Temple was destroyed. Another Temple was built about 515 years before Christ.(4) Jewish protests against Antiochus IV resulted in a backlash against Jewish people. He marched on Jerusalem, ordered the killing of 80 thousand people and sold about the same number into slavery. He also desecrated the Temple.(5) By about 63 AD, the area of ancient Israel came under Roman rule.(6) Jewish people, once again, found themselves under the control of a foreign imperial power. Roman rule was not always ideal. Pontius Pilate was so brutal that in 37 CE, he was ordered to give an account to the emperor.(7) The roots of xenophobia were probably fed, watered, and nourished by oppression coming from Gentiles.

Earlier in Acts Chapter 10, Peter has a vision that shows Peter that God is a universalist God, an inclusive God for all people. Then we read part of Peter’s sermon and we see the Holy Spirit poured out upon the Gentile Believers. “I am truly convinced . . . that there is no favoritism with God, but that He is ready to receive any man in any nation who reverences Him and who does what is right.”(8) “The Holy Spirit took control.” As Peter is making the point that righteous people of all nations are accepted by God, the Spirit fills the Gentile followers of Jesus. This sermon could be the first sermon preached about Jesus.(9) There are a number of important elements in Peter’s sermon. I think two important parts of the sermon are the universal, worldwide nature of the Gospel, and the anointing of God being poured out upon Gentiles.

The dream helped Peter understand that the Kingdom of God is inclusive and universalist and that God breaks down the barriers of fear, prejudice, discrimination, and hate between groups of people. “The Holy Spirit took control.” The Spirit comes down on Jesus' Gentile followers. This manifestation of God was not expected by Jesus' Jewish followers and it was evidence that God accepted Gentile Believers completely. Seeing an unexpected move of God in the lives of others has the power transform our lives and to help us love people we used to fear or believe are either deficient or defective.

God’s love is impressive. From a Trinitarian perspective, God’s love is shown in the incarnation. “In Jesus, God entered the world and took on” human life. God loved and cared enough accept the “limitations of humanity.”(10) This is a love that let the world slander Christ, brand Christ a heretic, pursue Christ, and judge, crucify, and bury Christ.(11)

Vernon McGee’s Bible commentaries are interesting. He relates interesting illustrations. He tells a story about a small-town storekeeper. A family arrived and wanted to know what kind of a town it was. The wise storekeeper asked, “What kind of town did you come from?” The reply was that they came from an incredible town. People in their former town cared about each other. The storekeeper replied, “This is just the same kind of town.” The family decided that they just might make the town their new home. A little later, another visiting family arrived. They also wanted to know what kind of town it was. The storekeeper asked what their old town was like. The family indicated that the town was mean. The people did not care about anyone. The storekeeper replied, “This is just the same kind of town.” The second family decided to drive on.

A person who heard both stories asked what the storekeeper was doing, because he gave the two families very different responses. The storekeeper responded, “I've learned that any town will be the same kind of town that you left – because you will be the same kind of person.”(12)

When the Spirit of God is in control, we are a different people, a people filled with the Spirit of the risen Christ. Because we are different – Spirit filled, we notice that others are different too. When the Spirit is in control, love is present. The transforming love of the risen Christ is generally seen as a proof that we walk in the footsteps of Christ. John 13:35. “If you love each other, everyone will know that you are my disciples.”(13)

I am going to conclude with one more story. This is about how God changes people by the proof of the Spirit of God moving in people's lives who we do not think God moves in.

Grant is a United Methodist pastor. He has over 304 thousand followers on TikTok. He is a dynamic, loving figure on TikTok. He did not start as a progressive pastor. He was a conservative Evangelical. He admits that he was one of the kind of Christians who would leave comments on social media telling progressive Christians that they were going to hell. Something changed.

He relates that while he was still conservative, he was welcomed into the church and became friends with a person who helped change his life. This person, on his first Sunday at the church, came up to him, hugged him and said, “I am the resident lesbian,” and she welcomed him, telling Grant how glad she was that he was at their church. Grant was at the church to be the youth director. He got to know her, her former husband, and the children. The love they shared as a family caught his attention.

He notes, “The first step to me changing my faith was seeing fruit in people that I previously thought were wrong.” He saw love in people he disagreed with and his theology started to change. He started to see complexity and nuance in the Bible. What I think was the key in his story of change is what he describes as “seeing the Spirit of God” in people he previously disagreed with and that made him realize that “God is love.”(14)

Notes

(1) Sherina Harris. "Reported Anti-Asian Hate Crimes up 878% in Vancouver: Police." 2020 October 30, 13 April 2021.<https://www.huffingtonpost.ca/entry/anti-asian-hate-crimes-2020_ca_5f9c3403c5b61b5109e705a6>.

(2) "Facts and Figures: Discrimination and Hate Crimes Statistics." Government of Canada. 16 October 2020, 13 April 2021. <https://www.canada.ca/en/canadian-heritage/campaigns/federal-anti-racism-secretariat/facts-figures.html>.

(3) Oren Dorell. “Jerusalem has History of Many Conquests, Surrenders.” USA Today. 05 December 2017, 02 May 2021.

<https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/world/2017/12/05/jerusalem-history-israel-capital/923651001/>.

(4) David Horton, ed. The Portable Seminary. 2nd ed. (Minneapolis, Minnesota: Bethany House, 2018), 239.

(5) Horton (2018), 240.

(6) Horton (2018), 241.

(7) Horton (2018), 242.

(8) William Barclay New Testament, Acts 10:34-35.

(9) William Barclay. The New Daily Study Bible: The Acts of the Apostles. Kindle ed. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003), e-book.

(10) William Barclay. The New Daily Study Bible: The Letters of John and Jude. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2002), e-book.

(11) William Barclay. The New Daily Study Bible: The Letters of John and Jude. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2002), e-book.

(12) J. Vernon McGee. Thru the Bible with J. Vernon McGee. Kindle ed. (Pasadena, California: Thru the Bible Radio, 1998), e-book.

(13) Contemporary English Version.

(14) “Story Time: Deconstruction.” @pastor_g TikTok. 04 May 2021, 04 May 2021. <https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeqSR5KB/>

#christian #church #sermon #bible #progressive christian #love #reflection #LGBT #LGBTQ

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zamgoods · 4 years ago

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How is Raya Like Star Wars/ Romeo Must Die

Saturday March 27th 3.27.2021 86th day Waxing Gibbous Moon (3.28)

So not having saw the movie yet, I will not spoil it. I just wanna know if Raya or a dragon gets beheaded or almost does, like in Mulan when her General pardons her, yet almost took her head off. Not trying to be gruesome, it’s a reason to look out for this.

Rush Hour 3 explains it all. It’s woman’s history month, so let’s share some facts about the importance traditions in China.

Let’s look out for Raya and the Last Dragon and see connections to Aaliyah in Romeo Must Die which brought us to newest Star Wars Trilogy. Also linked with Kung Fu Panda, Mulan, Rush Hour 3, The Last Dragon, Triads, Alice in Wonderland, Akasha in Queen of the Damned.

We are interested in the female, woman beheaded, dragon head, with secrets of the leaders of try ad family also cat hole lick ma fee ahh.

Raya movie was released 3.3.21 --->3.3.3 in US 3.5.21. Decoding is our thing so keep in mind 33 master number of Jesus. 33 movable vertebrates of the back/spine ending with a downwards pyramid, triangle called the sacrum.

Sacral chakra where the dragon sleeps also called Kundalini. Dragon or serpent. In Mulan 1998 version Mooshoo played by black man Eddie Murphy. He knocks the head of the actual family dragon and takes his place. This is the point of it. In Raya the Dragon, named Sisu, voiced by Akwafina, is the last dragon.

I also didn’t see the new Mulan yet as well. I also wanna know if there is a part where a Chinese person is disguised as an Arab, like Han did to Akbar in Romeo Must Die. I wonder if we can find out who the new Dragaon head of the try ad. See there’s the 13 plus one kay and others that may be at play. Look out for numero 489.

Remember that the try ad are known for running the casinos, gambling rings, fireworks, rockets, sex trafficking, illicit and designer drug manufacturing, k2, heroine, etc, gun smuggling, prostitution rings, massage parlors, happy endings, new clear weapons, bio terrorism, surveillance, pedophile rings, human cloning, food fakery, and more. They are a world wide family with headquarters all over the world.

Back to Raya whose is voiced my Kelly Marie Tran Loan Tran who played in both Star Wars and Raya. Her character is Rose in the Last Jedi and Rise of Skywalker. Remember her freeing those enslaved animals at the casino in Episode 8 along with Finn. Many thought this was random to the story, but when you understand what is really going on with her role. That’s why so many children are being found as part of the child sex trafficking and many mobsters are being arrested around the world.

Look out for hands signs, numbers, slavery, and freedom. The Book of Changes is the mystical book that predicts the “Change” the construction, the change of guard, money system etc.

The new 2016 Silk road is part of this plot where DMX plays the role of Silk, casino and club waterfront owner in Oakland, C.

The Whole Middle East has been destabilized to build the actual Express train from China to Europe’s door way. IT crosses land and Sea through Africa, India, Persia, parts of Russia...Red Sea. This is huge and Romeo Must Die predicted it back in 2000.

The big Heroine and Opiates epidemic is also crafted in the hands of the Try Ads and affiliates. The big White Horse in the room and White pony, snow trafficked into Mexico and up to North America is powered by this Force to truly be acknowledged. Yet nobody is talking about these things.

You’d be surprised what kids cartoons can teach you, if you know what to look for.

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dropintomanga · 4 years ago

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Can Sports Manga Really Break Through in North America?

Here we are in the summer of 2020 and it’s usually San Diego Comic-Con time. And with it comes discussion of how manga is doing in 2020. There was a Manga Publishing Industry Roundtable discussion at Comic-Con with representatives from almost all of the U.S. manga publishers (which you can watch here) about what’s happening in the U.S. side of things. While manga sales have dropped due to the early months of the COVID-19 pandemic, they have rebounded back in some ways. A great thing about this is that it’s not just mainstream titles that are selling; it’s also series that are from other genres like slice-of-life and horror.

Which now leads into the title of this post because at the end of the discussion, publishers were asked about what they would like to see in the future. Erik Ko, chief of operations at UDON Comics, said something that really piqued my interest. He said that he wants to see if sports manga can truly break out in North America (i.e. reach levels of sales and popularity a la My Hero Academia, Demon Slayer, etc.). Erik mentioned how his daughter loves Haikyu!! on Crunchyroll and watched all 3 seasons multiple times (It’s also mentioned that Haikyu!! sold well during the pandemic for its U.S. publisher Viz Media).

While the manga has officially ended as of this writing, Haikyu!! will last for a while as the anime will have a 4th season and possibly more. However, while Haikyu!! is loved by a lot of anime/manga fans, it’s not exactly a series that has gotten EVERY shonen fan or manga reader talking. With the many sports manga licenses that manga publishers have gotten over the past few years, it doesn’t sound like there’s significant traction.

This does beg the question of what will it take for sports manga to really catch the eyes of manga readers here in the United States.

For starters, I’ll discuss a bit about the history of sports anime here in the United States. It’s been noted that a lot of sports anime do not tend to sell well over here. There was an Answerman article on Anime News Network answering “Why Do Sports Anime Bomb in North America?” that really goes into this. While it’s noted in the article that Yuri!! on Ice and Free! are indeed sports anime and have sold well, almost all discussion about those series revolves around the relationships between the male characters. Sports play second fiddle to the relationships compared to series like Haikyu!!, Slam Dunk, and Captain Tsubasa (where the sports aspect is still preached a lot).

Speaking of Captain Tsubasa, if you don’t know about this series, this is the one sports anime/manga that generated a lot of love overseas in countries that worship football/soccer. In the Manga: The Citi Exhibition book, there was an article on the promotion of Captain Tsubasa in Baghdad, Iraq by the Japan Self-Defense Force. The series was promoted via pictures on water distribution tanks in Iraq in the mid-2000s’ as a way to make Iraqi children smile. During the U.S. occupation of Iraq, Japan would later work with Iraqi media channels to show programming that would help encourage the country. One of these shows happened to be Captain Tsubasa, which was dubbed in Arabic. The series’ fandom took off from there and more places in the Middle East (like Saudi Arabia) even got in on the action using hacked satellites to watch.

I wonder if this is what Erik Ko wants to see - something like Captain Tsubasa that not only gets fans gushing about the story and characters, but also inspires kids to become professional athletes or at least become more physically active in their own lives.

A big problem that gets in the way of this happening in the U.S. is how sports culture is like over here. How do I explain this? I’ll use a quote from a 2016 article in the Milwaukee Independent about Anime Milwaukee.

“While the Anime Milwaukee convention does not collect statistical data about those who attend, walking around the convention provided empirical confirmation of how Anime speaks to multi-generational and multi-cultural people.

Anime itself will not solve the very real problems faced by disadvantaged residents in Milwaukee.

But unlike the adversarial escapism offered by sports teams and the nature of competitive games, the appeal of Anime is with its positive messages. Where as sports is an unrealistic role model for struggling youth, for the most part Anime offers socially beneficial and moral examples.”

Sports in the United States are very much “us versus them.” In Japan, sports focuses on healthy competition between players. At least, that’s what Japanese sports stories try to focus on. While healthy competition between players does happen over here, it either doesn’t get shown as much in U.S. sports media or that competition becomes toxic to the point it hurts innocent people. In the U.S., you’re supposed to win and get recognized in order to move ahead in your respective sport via whatever means necessary. A good example is college basketball over here and how competitive schools have been involved in recruiting scandals over the best high school players. Another example is the psychological trauma faced by the number of young female athletes who were sexually abused/harassed and forced to believe that it was all part of the process to get ahead in their respective sport. I want to note that sports programs in the U.S. are often heavily underfunded, which adds to the pressure that faces any youth going through sports programs.

There’s also this tendency to view athletes over here as all-knowing celebrity gods (i.e. athletes who say awful things with confidence on social media) or people that only know how to play their respective sport (ie. the “shut up and dribble” comment to outspoken basketball players on social issues). There’s no in-between where we get to see the complete humanity of the athlete.

This does tie into how sports fans and anime/manga fans may not get along. You usually learn more about the nuanced aspects of life from outside sports than within. Sports over here preach some questionable values that anime/manga fans sometimes don’t believe in. Add the fact that sports is shoved down Americans’ throats so much and you can see why not everyone over watches sports. I do want to note that there are U.S. pro athletes showcasing their love for anime. While this is nice to see, almost all the titles they grew up watching are mainstream shonen/shojo. I’m curious if athletes would watch series like Haikyu!!, Kuroko’s Basketball, Eyeshield 21, etc., but then I wonder if they would keep watching as they can only handle so much sports drama as it’s part of their everyday reality.

So what will it take for a sports manga to break through in a big way? Viz Media tried to promote Slam Dunk here using the NBA to promote literacy in 2008. I also found out that Tokyopop tried to do something with the NBA via its Cine-Manga initiative in the mid-2000s’ and it only lasted from 2004-2007. So to that extent, there probably has to some kind of manga that’s similar to the now-famous The Last Dance documentary, which chronicled Michael Jordan’s last championship run with the Chicago Bulls in the 1997-1998 NBA season.

Though honestly, it’s gonna take a mangaka who’s really interested in all aspects of American sports culture to come up with that kind of story. What might be better is that the story heavily criticizes the culture in a compelling and sometimes humorous way. I think that’s what will really get all U.S. manga fans and comic fans interested, especially those who are sick of commercialized sports exposure wherever they go. I do think over time as anime/manga continue to be accepted in the geek ecosystem, we can see this kind of story take off.

Until then, if you happen to be someone who likes both sports and anime/manga in a level-headed manner like me, you’re doing alright. It’s hard to occupy both spaces when you’re supposed to choose a side. Although I liked physical education during my school days, I can understand why anyone whose hobbies lie more towards the artistic and creative side disliked physical education possibly due to the structure in how it’s taught. I know sports anime lovers that dislike watching real sports in general and I get why.

Hearing Erik’s comments made me wonder about the beauty of sports manga. Now that I think hard about it, sports anime/manga are a intersection of both the “nerd” and “jock” in a way that helps everyone. To be honest, that intersection is what really bridges gaps that makes people better. It’s what truly completes a person. I’ll use this example - you can’t have mental health without physical health and vice versa. Some kind of exercise can help the mind while learning how your mind works can help you do better in physical activities that connect people together.

Maybe more importantly, what sports manga tends to preach is that winning shouldn’t be everything. Right now, everyone is encouraged to win at something just for a taste of meaningless status and we’re seeing how that mentality can ruin someone. Sports, with all of its benefits freed from corporate influence, are supposed to teach us (like all great manga stories do) that there’s no “us versus them,” there’s only “us” in the end.

And that kind of story deserves to hit a home run that rounds all the bases to reach a celebratory and meaningful win for the world.

#sports manga #manga industry #manga #mental health #psychology #sports culture #sports fandom #manga fandom

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parisfms · 5 years ago

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hey legends . im kelly and this is my absolute trash bag of a baby paris . im going to give you a heads up now she is the worst , like just horrible but like she can be fun sooo , wooo . honestly i’ll probably add more to this at another time because i have so much to say about her? but i also wanna get to plotting with all you beauties! so if you would like to plot you can give this post a like or you can shoot me a message over on discord ( 𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵#6229 ) if you prefer chatting over there <3

the tahan family name is one that carries alot of weight . coming from incredibly old money , dating back over five generations . their wealth is rooted in the oil and gas business . although her father ( daveed tahan ) decided to take a different route to his family and in 1990 he and his friend co-founded interscope records ( yes i am mirroring her father’s career after jimmy iovine , don’t sue me ) where he has been a executive producer since the labels founding . he was a perpetual player who truly soaked up the attention he received within the limelight from women . ivy krige was no different , ivy was an up and coming model born to a wealthy family ( the krige’s had been paid off in the early 1800s by the british royal family to hold the secret that one of the krige sons was actually the heir apparent to the throne , they took the money and curated a luxury fashion line that still holds up today with the chanels & diors or the world ) in the netherlands . when she met daveed she was infatuated . they dated for about a month before he moved on to another . he assumed that would be it of him and ivy but weeks after the break up she came to him with news that she was pregnant . although the two no longer saw eye to eye , they agreed that the best thing for their future child was to have both of them in their life .

although paris was born in amsterdam , the second her mother received the okay for the newborn to fly they went home to manhattan where paris would be raised . not even a full year after paris’ birth , ivy was offered a reality tv show on e! ( how very keeping up with the kardashians of her ) that would follow herself and her two siblings , all of which lived in the city .

paris’ entire childhood was put on display and god she hated every second of it . she attended regular schools all her life so kids weren’t the nicest and teased her alot . because of the lack of friends she had growing up paris got into alot , she did equestrian , learned how to draw , play guitar , piano , and the drums , as well as how to speak arabic , dutch , spanish , and french .

she also spent alot of time with her parents , she and her dad got along like two peas in a pod but he was either in los angeles or jet setting across the world so it wasn’t all the time that she got to see him . meanwhile she and her mom had all the time in the world to spend together and in all honesty paris just really isn’t a big fan of her mom . she even calls her ivy instead of mom , it’s likely resentment for the reality tv show as well as her mom always trying to be her friend instead of her parent .

as she got older things started to get easier with kids her age and paris really started to find herself in the whole nyc scene . she was never the nicest girl around . if anything paris and the word nice were never within the same sentence as one another . during high school she gave regina george and blair waldorf a run for their money . she was and still is the queen of icing people out , ruining their social standings , and manipulating people into thinking she has their best interest in mind .

the biggest note i can give you on paris is that she is not innately a good person , she does not have your best interest at heart no matter how much she manipulates you into thing she is/does .

by the end of highschool she was president of the model un , captain of the mock trial , and valedictorian of her class . paris has never just been a pretty face , she is incredibly smart and takes a certain enjoyment from learning new things . she inevitably decided to attend georgetown university in the nations capital . her boyfriend at the time wasn’t very happy about it but she was able to hop on a quick 3 hour flight back to the city every other weekend to see him . that was until they broke up . by then paris had picked up modeling and so she was in the city really whenever she wasn’t in class .

her modeling career really started to take off but some how she was able to focus on both her blossoming career as well as her education . after just three years at georgetown , paris received her bachelors in philosophy with a minor in film and media studies . she was supposed to go straight to law school afterwards but decided to fall head first into the modelling world . she walked for some of the biggest designers , multiple times , starred in some musicians music videos , in just one year she’d surpassed all the modelling goals she had left . in a bit fo a limbo , unsure where she’d take her talents , karl lagerfeld whom she’d grown close to over the years , invited her to come live out in france and he’d take her under his wing . so she moved out to france . loving every waking moment of becoming his protegee , she wasn’t necessarily sure what he’d seen in her that he hadn’t in renowned designers but she surely was never going to question him . after his unfortunate passing , it came out that he’d wanted paris to take over as creative director of chanel but after one month she stepped down from the position claiming “i took on this position while they sought out a true replacement for karl, i know he wanted me here but having to carve out my own lane in his shadow is all too impossible, if you ask me” months later , it was announced that paris would be the creative director of givenchy , beating out oliver rousteing for youngest appointed creative director .

she’s very recently back in new york city ( like it’s so new that she’s living at the plaza hotel while she’s still looking for a permanent place to live ) she loved living in france but honestly it was starting to get to her a bit with karl’s one year coming up .

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄

a total daddy’s girl , yes she is the type to say “my father will be hearing about this“

the type to talk you into making a fool of yourself with her and then the next day you find a recording of yourself circulating and she’s nowhere to be seen in it

a total schemer , like blair waldorf level

loves her psychedelics and weed but not big on really any other drugs

she has a small collection of cars a black range rover , silver bmw i8 , and a silver volvo xc90 and although she has a driver she does actually driver herself most of the time

her moms reality show is still going and honestly gets really good ratings still ? it’s called life with the krige’s : fashion royalty ( normally abbreviated to lwtk ) and paris is on the show by default any time she’s around her mom , her aunt , or uncle .

very bisexual and notoriously bad at relationships

she certainly doesn’t have a pristine reputation , how could you when you grew up on reality tv though ? she wouldn’t change her reputation for anything though . the media surprisingly kinda loves her despite calling her an ice queen at times . the media sees her as “authentic” even though paris couldn’t find an authentic bone out of a haystack .

she can come off very funny but it’s because she has absolutely no filter and just really doesn’t care about hurting your feelings . the best way to sum up her personality is “im actually not funny , im just really mean and people think im joking” .

she has two pomeranians ( hi jeffree star , she’s coming for your brand ) named archie and joey .

despite now being a creative director , img still has her signed on as a model , so maybe you’ll catch her pulling some wild shit like walking in her own shows in the future who knows

has a serious resting bitch face issue and honestly , it’s fitting

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓

so just a week before she was set to move out to france , paris attended a house party . her best friend was there and was being a total drag all night . paris was honestly sick of whatever funk the girl was in and so when the girl wasn’t looking paris slipped molly into her drink . not seeing any repercussions or even caring about them until the next morning when her friends body was found in the hudson river . someone who’d tried to get the girl down from the bridge claimed she’s shown serious signs of depersonalization as well as disorganized thoughts ( both side effects of molly ) . paris decided to never fess up about her part in her friend being under the influence that night , letting it go down in history that the late model had a drug problem . of course , paris felt bad , no matter how horrible she can be her goal is never to assist in someones death let alone someone she genuinely cared for but she wasn’t going to let both of their lives come to an end that night by turning herself in .

#wealthyhq:intro #tw drugs #tw drugging #tw suicide #tw death

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dillydedalus · 4 years ago

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september reading

there is literally no way it is september. impossible. anyway this month we have horror, Fake Dating, the rashomon effect, a time war, and most importantly, no neutrals to be found anywhere

the old man & his sons, heðin brú (tr. from faroese by john f. west) published on the faroe islands in 1940 and the first faroese novel to be translated into english, this is a story about the dramatic shift in life style during the 30s on the faroe islands, from hardscrabble subsistence farming/fishing to market economy. interesting look at changing life on isolated isles, and a much lighter (and shorter) take on the stubborn autonomous subsistence farmer than laxness’s independent people. 3/5

the white shroud, antanas škėma (tr from lithuanian by karla gruodis - english/claudia sinnig - german) a modernist, fragmented, nonlinear novel about a lithuanian poet gone into exile, now working as an elevator operator in a new york hotel, who is involved with a married woman but might also be terminally ill. in between the present timeline, the book flashes back (both in the character’s own writing and in third person) to his youth in lithuania, his torture at the hands of the soviet regime, his time at a DP camp in germany and so on. quite interesting, with some great writing. 3/5

things we lost in the fire, mariana enríquez (tr. from spanish by megan mcdowell) really good collection of horror-ish short stories that also touch on gendered violence, child abuse, poverty and argentinian history (esp. dictatorship and disappearances) - some stories are more overtly horror, with clear supernatural elements, others are more ambiguous. i don’t read (or watch) horror stuff so i’m a bad judge of how scary this is - i found it more gruesome and upsetting than terrifying, but the dread is strong in this one. favourites: adela’s house (hungry haunted house), end of term and the title story (women & self-inflictred violence), under the black water (the poisoned oil-choked river is very bad but maybe.... there’s something worse in there). good, vividly gruesome, sharp sharp sharp. 3.5/5

axiom’s end, lindsay ellis i really like lindsay ellis, of all the ~youtube video essayists~ she’s probably my favourite and this book a) has a cool premise - aliens + conspiracies + alien communication and b) a really cool cover, and it’s lindsay, so i was super excited for this one. and it would be unfair to say i was disappointed with it; it’s a fun first contact romp with really good pacing, cool aliens, on-brand lindsay ellis humour and some interesting ideas on communicating with someone who is truly alien and incomprehensible. it’s fine! i enjoyed it and will definitely read the sequel, it’s just... i was hoping it would be AMAZING, and it just wasn’t. no huge problems (except for a few lines i would have liked to take a red pen to), just.... it was fine. 3.5/5

zeno’s conscience, italo svevo (tr. from italian by william weaver) imagine you’re a businessman in trieste who does a little unsuccessful writing on the side and one day you decide to take english lessons to improve your business opportunities with the uk and your english teacher is JAMES FUCKING JOYCE who tells you that you need to keep writing. incredible. anyway these are the autobiographical notes of one zeno cosini, a hapless hypochondriac smug self-delusional fool, who just cannot quite quit smoking, marries the one sister out of three he least desires, & works as an accountant (for the man who married his most-desired of said sisters) despite his rather tenuous grasp on bookkeeping. my favourite scene is when his future sister in law (2nd most desired) complains lightly about her difficulties with latin, he tells her that he believes latin is a man’s language and even roman ladies probably didn’t actually speak it, only for her to correct him on a latin quotation. i will say tho that this book is way to long to maintain the endearingness and often drags. 3/5 tfw u write for an audience of one but that one is james joyce so fair enough

der hund/der tunnel/die panne, friedrich dürrenmatt dürrenmatt (in addition to having a cool-ass name) really fucking slaps! his stuff is really good, and often really really wild. these three stories are all weird & slightly existentially scary, two degrees left of reality, and just. so interesting! we have a man stalking a street preacher and his monstrous dog, a train going through a tunnel for way too long (and it is very scary), and a man becoming involved in a pretend-trial (or is it) and becoming convinced that he actually is a murderer (or is he, really?). anyway, dürrenmatt.... slaps. 4/5

wow, no thank you., samantha irby a mix of memoir and comedy blogpost and social critique blogpost about growing up poor & black, dating while fat, chronic illness, and settling down in rural america. it’s fine. i haven’t read irby’s previous collections so maybe i’m missing that emotional connection, but i thought it was mostly...okay?? not especially funny imo & i prefered the more serious chapters of which there weren’t enough. 2/5

they say in harlan county: an oral history, alessandro portelli really impressive oral history about life in harlan county, appalachia, focusing on the labor strikes and conflicts in the 30s and 40s, but really exploring life and politics in the region from the first non-native settlement there to today. really interesting, sometimes inspiring and often infuriating and probably worth reading if you’ve ever listened to which side are you on. 4/5

rashomon & other stories, ryunosuke akutagawa (tr. from japanese by jay rubin) fun fact: if you read the short story “rashomon” expecting to get the, y’know, rashomon effect, you won’t get it bc the film actually takes its plot from the story “in a grove”. anyway this is an interesting collection of classic japanese short stories, many of which are actually about unreliable witnesses/narrators. i particularly enjoyed “in a grove” and the truly disturbing “hell screen”, but found this particular collection just a bit too long. 3/5

women without men, shahrnush parsipur (tr. from farsi by kamran talatoff & joceyln sharlet) a magical realist feminist novella about 5 women in iran who all try to liberate themselves from men in one way or another, more or less successfully (one of them turns into a tree, another becomes undead), until they end up in a semi-utopian garden together for a time. disturbing in its depiction oppression and sexual/gendered violence. i don’t really know how i feel about it, but it’s a really unique and interesting reading experience; very fraught and ambivalent in the end. 3.5/5

take a hint, dani brown, talia hibbert i think this is the first actual pure genre-romance book i’ve read... in years??possibly ever? idk. anyway this is mostly a pretty fun & sweet story about ambitious & emotionally constipated phd student dani brown and security guy with tragic past zaf ansari, who begin a fake relationship for Various Reasons (as you do) and both develop Real Feelings (as you do, predictably). it’s mostly really enjoyable but man i’m really not used to Romance writing & it’s a lot. in the end everyone is very genuine & earnest & emotionally honest which.... not to be even more emotionally repressed than dani but i cannot deal with that. anyway given that 2020 truly is the gift that keeps on giving this was a fun fluffy delight & i might read more from the series. 3.5/5

this is how you lose the time war, amal el-mohtar & max gladstone two agents (red and blue) on opposing sides of a time war (the futuristic techy Agency vs the eco/organic Garden - neither of them is Good or Bad exactly) start writing letters as they hunt each other through the strands of time’s braid and eventually (inevitably) fall in love. really interesting concept of time travel and different timelines (if, like me, you conceptualise past as down and future as up, this will trip you up so much), very lyrical writing that sometimes toes the line to overwritten but mostly really works. 3.5/5

DNF: the madman of freedom square & the iraqi christ, hassan blasim (tr. from arabic by jonathan wright, german tr. by hartmut fähndrich) bindup of these two short story collections about iraq. these are incredibly brutal, depressing & horrifying stories about a country in a constant state of war & struggle. couldn’t bear it, probably not ever & certainly not right now.

allegro pastell, leif randt (audio) this is brilliant, bitingly funny novel about a millenial couple, tanja & jerome, and their on-and-off long distance relationship. they are privileged (and half-aware of it), attractive, successful, very in touch with their own feelings (couldn’t be me), self-reflective, faintly ironic in everything bc sincerity might be cringe, and you will hate them. these are people who perform their feelings rather than feel them, dissect all their opinions and impulses to the point of both paralysis and narcissism, engage in constant navelgazing and cannot form any relationship that isn’t based in constant evaluation and judgment. they pride themselves on their nonconformity but are really the greatest conformists of all, and the most square, boring, spießig people under the veneer of their urban liberal drug-and-club lifestyle. had so much fun with it even as i was constantly cringing at these people. 4/5

#the books i read #long post

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cfijerusalem · 4 years ago

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NOTHING IMPOSSIBLE WITH GOD: ONE MONTH OF RAIN IN ONE NIGHT.

“I am the LORD, the God of all mankind. Is anything too hard for me?” Jeremiah 32:27.

“In those days, ten men from nations of every tongue will take hold – they will take hold of every Yehudi by a corner of his cloak and say, ‘Let us go with you, for we have heard that Hashem is with you’” Zechariah 8:23 (The Israel Bible).

We have many miracles here in the Land of Israel all year round. We want the nations to hear about them. One recent one is rain. The word for rain in Hebrew is geshem. It literally means “timely/blessed rain” geshem bracha. If it rains earlier or later, it can damage the produce. For that reason, the Hebrew language has special words for the first rain yoreh and for the last rain of the season malkosh. The Torah tells us that rainfall in Israel is dependent on keeping God’s laws. Prayers for rain have been bountifully answered this year. Reports inform us that Israel normally receives seven inches of rain for the entire month; seven inches fell overnight on a Sabbath when Jews read the Torah portion of Toldot making it one of the rainiest days in modern Israel’s history. Some areas of Israel’s coast have already seen over 40% of their average annual rainfall. Mount Hermon in the north received its first snow of the season.

“Rain in Israel is a reflection of the relationship between the Jews and God. ‘If, then, you obey the commandments that I enjoin upon you this day, loving Hashem your God and serving Him with all your heart and soul, I will grant the rain for your land in season, the early rain and the late…’ Deuteronomy 11:13-14. Eleven years ago, Israel was suffering from a horrible drought. Recently during this pandemic, rains fell here, but another plague of locusts hit Saudi Arabia and Yemen. It was right after Israel recited a passage in the Bible ‘For if you refuse to let My people go, tomorrow I will bring locusts on your territory’ Exodus 10:4 The Israel Bible.” ~ Adam Eliyahu Berkowitz, Biblical News

A massive swarm of locusts ate up everything in its path in Africa and crossed the Red Sea into Saudi Arabia. For now, the Arabians have it under control, but if it continues to spread (which it seems to be doing), it could bring a welcome respite to war-torn Yemen whose starving inhabitants consider the locust to be a delicacy. In the summer of 2019, locusts invaded Yemen just prior to the month-long Ramadan fast. The insects were snatched up by the Yemenis who traditionally eat them roasted as a protein served with rice and vegetables. Yemenis claim that eating them has health benefits which include easing diabetes and hypertension. Despite human consumption of insects being strictly forbidden by the Torah, locusts are the notable exception and are kosher (Leviticus 11:22-23). It is interesting to note that recently Jews in synagogues all around the world were reading Parsha Bo - the section of the Torah describing the plague of locusts that struck Egypt before the Exodus. Locusts invaded all the land of Egypt and settled within all the territory of Egypt in a thick mass; never before had there been so many, nor will there ever be so many again. They covered the face of the whole land, so that the land was darkened, and they ate all the plants in the land and all the fruit of the trees that the hail had left. Not a green thing remained, neither tree nor plant of the field, through all the land of Egypt (Exodus 10:14-15).

According to Jewish tradition and based on a verse in Micah, the ten-plagues will reappear before the Messiah. “I will show him wondrous deeds, as in the days when You sallied forth from the land of Egypt” Micah 7:15. Jewish sources predict that all of the plagues will reappear in the final Redemption but in even more powerful forms. It is written in Midrash Tanchuma, homiletic teachings collected around the fifth century, that “just as God struck the Egyptians with 10 plagues, so too He will strike the enemies of the Jewish people at the time of the Redemption.” Rabbi Bahya Ben Asher, a 13th-century Spanish commentator, wrote, “In Egypt, God used only part of His strength. When the final redemption comes, God will show much, much more of His power.” The world is ripe for judgment, including God’s People who need to return to God’s ways. However, we know that God is at work in Israel, as well as in the nations. Nothing – nothing at all is impossible with Him. We need to “watch and pray” Matthew 26:41 as Jesus instructed us. This way we will be encouraged that we are moving forward in redemption for Israel and the nations. Keep looking “up” and you will “hear” more about what He will do with His Chosen People in the latter days.

Let’s Enter the Throne Room in Unity and Purpose

REAL TIME PRAYER CONCERNS

Syrian media reported seeing Syrian Army Troops on the Lebanese side of the Hermon Mount recently. (With its summit straddling the border between Syria and Lebanon, Mount Hermon was captured in the 1967 Six-Day War. After becoming the northernmost point in Israel and therefore of huge strategic significance, the Hermon was recaptured by Syria at the outset of the 1973 Yom Kippur War. It was recaptured by Israel after fierce fighting by the Golani brigade.

The pre-Yom Kippur War Syrian-controlled sector was returned to Syria after the war. Syria maintained an extended occupation of Lebanon from 1976 to 2005.) Headlines here read: “Syrian Troops Spotted Amassing Near Israel’s Mt. Hermon Border” (Adam Berkowitz, January 2021).The area has become very active lately. Recently also, four Syrian family members were killed by falling debris from the Syrian air-defense system reacting to an alleged Israeli airstrike. On January 13, airstrikes also attributed to Israel targeted dozens of sites in the Deir al-Zor region of eastern Syria resulting in 25-50 casualties. Two weeks earlier, an attack attributed to Israel targeted a munitions factory in north-western Syria near the city of Masyaf. There is so much hatred of Israel by Arab nations; however on the other hand, a Muslim Mayor of Nazareth says :We love Israel” (David Sidman reported).

Pray for Godly leaders in Israel’s government (Memshala, ממשלה ) in Hebrew, to arise in Israel to replace the disunity with unity. The real King of Israel is yet to come back. That’s Yeshua! Until then “...give them a warning. Tell the people what a king will do to them. Tell them how a king rules people” (I Samuel 8:9 ERV).

Ask God to give Israel wisdom as the IDF prepares in a massive war drill slated for this upcoming summer. The drill is expected to last a month and will simulate a full-scale war, including with Gaza, and extending to the northern threat, which will be the main focus. “Do not forsake wisdom, and she will protect you; love her, and she will watch over you.” (Proverbs 4:6-7).

Intercede for a real spiritual change to take place in the people of Israel as disunity and division is reigning at the moment. All need to draw back to God and follow His Ways. “Seek the LORD while he may be found; call on him while he is near” (Isaiah 55:6).

Thank God that even though Israel claims democracy, they must still look for their King. May they be able to see that they can never be truly satisfied with a political kingdom, but need a theocracy in which God Almighty will rule. (Isaiah 2:3, Micah 4:2). Proclaim the Coming Kingdom under God’s government and according to His Ways.

Be hopeful and look up for the Torah will “go forth” to the world the way the Coming King will deliver it, not the way of rabbis, not the way of pastors, but the voice of the Word of God through the King of Kings.

Praise the God of Israel that He has a plan to remove the system(s) of the world. Man has tried to perfect it - but it is worldly. Thank God for the days when man shall not have positions, titles, nor power, but all will bow the knee to the God of Israel and His Messiah. (Isaiah 45:23; Romans 14:11).

Pray and intercede for Yeshua to come and establish God’s Kingdom on earth in Jerusalem. Christians are citizens of that Kingdom along with a redeemed Israel that will emerge when He arises. Our identity is here with Israel. “Remember that at that time you were separate from Christ, excluded from citizenship in Israel and foreigners to the covenants of the promise, without hope and without God in the world” (Ephesians 2:12).

Keep our eyes upon the Mountain of the Lord, Mount Zion in Jerusalem. Pray for Godly voices to arise in Israel to want to bring the people back to the Torah of Almighty God. Yeshua (Jesus) was always teaching it to His Disciples as we see in the New Testament. May the Church, along with Israel, no longer reject the truth of God’s Word, but abide by it and be reminded that in spite of hardships and hard days, God is going to fulfil every “jot and tittle” of His Word just as Jesus told us He will. (Matthew 5:18).

Many here in Israel realize that Israel is on her way to Redemption. It may not appear to be that way, but God is always working towards His Goals and His Word. That means in our Christian terminology that the approaching of the Messianic Kingdom is in motion. Birth pangs will be difficult, but as in any birth, one must “pass through” or “pass over” the pain of it all. Each new day here brings forth new opportunities to be a shining light to Israel and to prepare the way of the Lord. Thank you for every prayer warrior around the world. Let us all continue to pray, “Thy Kingdom come...on earth...” (Matthew 6:10). Won’t it be wonderful to see how the Lord changes many hearts upon His arrival?

Until that time, continue to persevere in prayer, believe the Promises of God for Israel and the Nations, and to remember to “pray for the peace of Jerusalem” (Psalm 122:6). Troubling days lie ahead.

Lots of love always.

In His Service Together,

Sharon Sanders

Christian Friends of Israel - Jerusalem

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quranreadalong · 7 years ago

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#17, Surah 3

THE QURAN READ ALONG: DAY 17

Be warned: this section is another mangled Biblical fanfic, like the stuff about Moses in surah two. This one is about Mary, as in the mother of Jesus, and her family. Her family including Imran, who appears in this crossover Exodus/Gospels fic as Mary’s father instead of Joachim. The good news is that this means there will be less hellfire, disbelievers are evil, etc in this section compared to usual.

We begin with 3:35, in which her unnamed mother (Anne) vows to give her unborn child to Allah as an “offering”, and after Mary’s birth begs Allah to protect Mary from Satan. A hadith tells us this means that Mary (and Jesus) were protected from his touch. Allah “accepted her with full acceptance”.

Zechariah (Zakariyya), the future father of John the Baptist, is then appointed the young Mary’s male guardian. Now this is a change from the Gospel of Luke, in which a pregnant Mary visits her cousin Elizabeth, who is Zechariah’s wife, and stays with her for a few months; she doesn’t go there because Zechariah is her “guardian”. But in Islamic and pre-Islamic Arab tradition, young women are appointed a “guardian” or wali from their male family members, who must approve of marriages and such. You might be wondering why Zechariah is Mary’s wali instead of Imran. The Quran..... doesn’t say!

The sira and history books greatly elaborate upon the story of Mary’s early life, since so much of it is vague in the Quran itself. Al-Tabari (volume 4) brings Joseph in as her carpenter cousin, who serves in a temple with Mary. Joseph realizes she’s pregnant, and tells her to run away so she won’t be accused of adultery. She runs to her sister’s house (her sister being Elizabeth), and her brother-in-law (Zechariah) takes her in. So that’s how the relationship is explained there. Ibn Ishaq’s sira contains an interesting story in which both of Mary’s parents die and her new guardian is chosen randomly. Zechariah is her initial guardian, but then a carpenter-monk (yes, a monk in Jewish Palestine, long story) named Jurayj takes her in. More on him in a second.

3:37 says Allah gave Mary food in a temple, which is odd and doesn’t appear in the Bible. The idea seems to come from the apocryphal Gospel of James, which was an inauthentic Gospel (probably written by a Roman-born Christian) that was popular for a couple of centuries. It reads:

And Mary was in the temple of the Lord as if she were a dove that dwelt there, and she received food from the hand of an angel.

But anyway. 3:38 continues the Biblical story, with Zechariah praying and an angel telling Zechariah that he will be the father of John the Baptist even though he and his wife are old. Zechariah is rendered temporarily mute.

All of this is neutral and, besides the food part (and Zechariah being Mary’s “guardian”), pretty much just Mohammed recounting the beginning of the Gospel of Luke. We’re now gonna talk about Mary herself. Some angels tell Mary that she has been chosen by Allah:

Allah hath chosen thee and made thee pure, and hath preferred thee above (all) the women of creation.

This is also almost word-for-word from the Gospel ("thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women”). 3:43 is a non-Biblical aside of the angels telling Mary to “prostrate thyself and bow with those who bow (in worship)”, in the Muslim fashion. About the only other interesting thing here is that Mary is talking to angels, plural. In the Biblical story, and in other parts of the Quran, it’s just one angel. Lo! Allah hath trouble counting at times, let us ignore it.

3:44 is a hilarious verse where Allah smugly tells everyone that he revealed this story exclusively to Mohammed, which is proof that he is a prophet because how else could he know all of this? Besides the fact that 90% of it is from the Bible and the rest he made up? But I want this to be a nice section so I will call it neutral.

Anyway, right, back to the story. The angels are talking to Mary. They tell her that she will give birth to the Messiah (not the son of God as in the Christian story), who will preach to the people. Mary is a virgin and does not understand how this is possible. But Allah can do anything.

Keeping the virgin birth story has always struck me as odd, given that Jesus is explicitly not Allah’s son in Islam. He’s not anyone’s son, really, besides Mary’s. He doesn’t have a father, divine or otherwise. Allah just made him and then sent an angel to breathe his ruh (spirit) into him, the way he made Adam... why he did this or what it accomplished is never really said. Lo! Allah was just bored that day.

Allah, the angels tell Mary, will mentally teach Jesus how to preach and he will be a prophet. He will perform miracles, like bringing clay birds to life.

This tale is not in the Bible but is in the non-Biblical Gospel of Thomas, which was part of some groups’ traditions at the time, like the Gospel of James:

Lo, thy child is at the brook, and he hath taken clay and fashioned twelve little birds, and hath polluted the Sabbath day. And Joseph came to the place and saw: and cried out to him, saying: Wherefore doest thou these things on the Sabbath, which it is not lawful to do? But Jesus clapped his hands together and cried out to the sparrows and said to them: Go! and the sparrows took their flight and went away chirping.

Then all of a sudden we have a timeskip and we’re talking about the adult Jesus, whose job was “confirming that which was before me of the Torah, and to make lawful some of that which was forbidden unto you”. Jesus tells people to worship Allah and recruits his disciples since they believe in his teachings. Like all the other prophets, Muslim!Jesus’ message is one of full monotheism and not much else... none of his famous sayings from the Bible feature in the Quran. In fact, adult Muslim!Jesus barely says anything at all, as Mohammed seemed to prefer his childhood tales. But this, like everything else in this section, is a neutral retelling.

This has all been a very boring re-tread, I know. But here’s the new and exciting part! 3:54 takes us to just before Jesus’ last days. There are schemes afoot:

And they (the disbelievers) schemed, and Allah schemed (against them): and Allah is the best of schemers.

What scheme was Allah working on, you may ask? Allah tells Jesus that “I am gathering thee and causing thee to ascend unto Me”. You see, as we shall learn later, Jesus was not killed in the crucifixion. No... he ascended into heaven beforehand. We will see in surah four that the crucifixion was an illusion with a fake Jesus. Truly you are a great schemer, Allah! (I’ll save this dumb story for the next surah.)

Then--wait a minute, I forgot about this one! I wanted an entire section free of badness! Damn it, Mohammed!

As for those who disbelieve I shall chastise them with a heavy chastisement in the world and the Hereafter; and they will have no helpers.

I’m not even trying to label things bad, but Mohammed gives me no choice sometimes. Kuffar hell count: 1. Sigh. At least it is coupled with a semi-good ayah, where good Muslims go to jannah:

And as for those who believe and do good works, He will pay them their wages in full. Allah loveth not wrong-doers.

I know, I know, I’m being overly generous here. But this was meant to be a happy neutral section! At least we have a neutral recap, with 3:58 calling all of the above a “revelation” and 3:59 saying that Allah created Jesus like Adam, from dust (in Mary’s womb).

Those who doubt the wisdom Mohammed pulled out of his ass are “those who waver”, as we have seen many times. And anyone who questions what Mohammed says about Jesus, well... I’ll let him explain:

And whoso disputeth with thee concerning him, after the knowledge which hath come unto thee, say (unto him): Come! We will summon our sons and your sons, and our women and your women, and ourselves and yourselves, then we will pray humbly (to our Lord) and (solemnly) invoke the curse of Allah upon those who lie.

Sure thing, bud. The curse mentioned here is known as the mubahala in Islamic tradition. It supposedly involved Mohammed “inviting” some Christians from the Arab city of Najran to Islam, then getting pissy when they say “wait that’s not how the story went, you’ve got it wrong”, then he makes his family pray with him in order to curse them. This isn’t really found in any reputable ahadith and may be a fictitious account. But since it is, and historically has been, accepted as a real thing by both Sunni and Shia scholars, I’ll quote Ibn Ishaq’s description of the events. It begins:

A deputation from the Christians came to the apostle. There were sixty riders

Ibn Ishaq then attempts to explain why Christians think that Jesus is God, relating to his miracles, the virgin birth, YHWH’s use of plural pronouns, etc. He gets some details wrong about the faith, but only because he is trying to base it on Mohammed’s own mistaken assumptions. Mohammed refutes the Christians’ claims about Allah, though he stumbles on the question of why Allah calls himself “We” if the Trinity doctrine is false and admits he does not know. Then the story continues:

the apostle said to them, "Submit yourselves [and convert to Islam]." They said, "We have submitted". ... He said "You lie. Your assertion that God has a son, your worship of the cross, and your eating pork hold you back from submission.”

Following this is a description of the surah up to what we've already read. Ibn Ishaq then puts this into the story:

Later her guardian was Jurayj, the ascetic, a carpenter of [the Jews]. ... A grievous famine befell [Israel] and Zachariah was unable to support her so they cast lots to see who should be her guardian and the lot fell on Jurayj the ascetic and he became her guardian.

“Jurayj”? Who might this be? While he is not in the Quran, “Jurayj” is actually mentioned in a sahih hadith, where he is again described as a monk living in a monastery. In uh... like 10 AD Roman Judea? Anyway the full story involves a woman falsely accusing him of fathering her child, when in fact the baby was fathered by a shepherd. He is arrested and his monastery is destroyed. But the truth is revealed when Jurayj touches the baby boy and the baby tells everyone who his father was, then the monastery is re-built in apology.

Okay, so obviously the idea that some monk named George lived in pre-Christian Judea is nonsense, but where did Mohammed get this story from and how the hell did “Jurayj” get involved in the story of Mary? The topic hasn’t been explored much by any scholars, as far as I can tell. The name is obviously derived from “George” or “Gregory”, and I’ve come across places listing stories about various saints with similar miracles attributed to them. So Jurayj was based on some tales of a Christian monk. The obvious guess as to how he made his way into the story of Mary, as mentioned by Ibn Ishaq, is that he was conflated with Joseph (thus carpenter-monk).

Uh... right! That was a long digression. Ibn Ishaq then describes the rest of the surah up to the present point. He says that Allah commanded Mohammed to curse the Christians and Mohammed dared the Christians to do the same to him, but they knew “right well that Mohammed is a prophet” and so declined, fearing Allah’s wrath if they dared curse him. Then they went home.

But whatever. It’s pretty bad to curse people for having religious disagreements either way.

Finally, to wrap this section up, 3:62 has Mohammed again saying that this is what really happened, unlike the Christian story, and 3:63 tells us that anyone who says otherwise is one of the “corrupters”. Way to end it on a bad note.

That’s it for the Mary and Jesus business for this surah. What a mess.

NEXT TIME: We return to the regularly scheduled chastising of disbelievers.

The Quran Read-Along: Day 17

Ayat: 30

Good: 1 (3:57)

Neutral: 24 (3:35-56, 3:58-60, 3:62)

Bad: 4 (3:56, 3:60-61, 3:63)

Kuffar hell counter: 1 (3:56)

⇚ previous day | next day ⇛

#quranreadalong #surah 3 #al imran

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studioarabiyainegypt · 5 years ago

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WHY STUDIO ARABIYA INSTITUTE?

July 18th, 2010 was the day I decided that it would be better for me to submit to the will of God than for me to be one who submits to the will of my desires. That is when my journey into Islam and subsequently of Islamic knowledge became something I dedicated my life towards. It took years, years in which I became married and worked in some of the premiere Islamic organizations. Blessings upon blessings came, but the fervor and passion to continue my Islamic studies weighed on me. I sought out all traditional means in my community, sat with the scholars of the community, attended every traveling class available to me and, finally, the time came that my teachers came to a decision that it was time for me to move on. It was time to delve into the key of all Islamic Sciences and the key to delve into the book of God: the Arabic Language.

Mind you, prior to this, I had rough attempts at studying the Arabic language. I had done two semesters in my University, attended an Arabic class for a few months at a local masjid, but none of which took me to the level I felt a serious student of Islam should achieve. I looked at various schools around the world and contemplated where would be the best fit.

You should remember: I was not the only one making this journey. My wife would be accompanying me and, as such, I needed to find a place that would satisfy my craving of the Arabic language but, at the same time, give us the security and tranquility needed to maintain our marriage and happiness (a key that many students of Islam push to the side at the expense of their marriages).

Finally, we set our sights on 3 schools and applications had gone out to each, none of which were in Egypt. All 3 came back with affirmatives, letting my wife and I know that we were accepted to their campuses.

Yet something was missing in each.

After praying to God for His guidance and requesting direction from my mentors and scholars, I remained largely confused as to where and if we would leave our cozy home in the tourist capital of the world. Finally, a friend and Arabic teacher reached out and we discussed my plans, to which he recommended Studio Arabiya. After a short conversation, I remained hesitant due to the visible instability of Egypt and the current political situation.

So, I did my job as a husband and responsible seeker of knowledge and reached out to contacts that I knew who had lived in Egypt…those who were both born and residents here and those who were former students of the prestigious Al Azhar University. All responded with varying opinions – some having loved Egypt, while others having despised it.

Needless to say, none of it helped.

This was all going on near the end of the month of January 2016 and classes started March 1st. I truly didn’t think we would make it. That same week, I had helped put on a local outreach event for those of varying faiths at the mosque I was active with. At that event, I spoke to a long time friend and aunty in the community…one who had taken her entire family to the mountains of Yemen to study Islam.

It was with her words of wisdom and conviction that I decided Egypt was the choice for me.

It really was that easy, and for the sake of brevity in this post, I won’t get into details. In short, she reminded me of my intention to study and also reminded me that, though funds are important (a selling point of Studio Arabiya), nothing was more important than your intention.

My intention was attaining the Arabic language and, as such, God would open the doors of blessings and mercy.

So with that, the application was sent, the notice sent to my job, the community leaders informed, parents told, and the journey began. We waited for our response and in the meantime cleaned our home, sold all of our items and put it up for rent all in the space of 3 weeks. When the acceptance letter came, we purchased our tickets for the trip, formally made an announcement to the community and were on our way.

As this is the first of many blog posts to come, I’ll end here and tell you this:

Your journey to the Arabic language starts with you and your passion. How bad do you want it? I had some of the biggest scholars of America advising me of other choices and paths to take; some of them could have disheartened anyone and, at times, did dishearten me.

But my flame of passion couldn’t be ousted.

And so, here I am, in the beautiful city of Mokattam in good ‘ol Cairo. When I eventually contacted many of those same teachers and scholars, I received one similar answer from them all: “I needed to see how bad you wanted it and what your intentions really were.” It all went back to the beautiful aunty that advised my wife and I and the narration that opens the famous 40 hadith of Imam Nawawi:

It is narrated on the authority of Amirul Mu’minin, Abu Hafs ‘Umar bin al-Khattab (ra) who said:

I heard the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) say: “Actions are (judged) by motives (niyyah), so each man will have what he intended. Thus, he whose migration (hijrah) was to Allah and His Messenger, his migration is to Allah and His Messenger; but he whose migration was for some worldly thing he might gain, or for a wife he might marry, his migration is to that for which he migrated.” [Bukhari & Muslim]

And the rest, as they say, is history or rather, you’ll read about it in the next post.

#Studio Arabiya In Egypt

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dybdahltravels · 6 years ago

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Life in Morocco

Thursday, March 21, 2019

Bonjour and Salam!

What a great day we had today exploring the blue city of Chefchaeoun and experiencing the culture of Morocco ( Maroc.) This place is simply goreous!

We started the day with a walk down, down, down from our riad to our awaiting bus and headed into the mountains to meet with a Berber family . The Berber people are really the Amazigh people. They were given the name Berber by the Arab that settled Morocco in the 6th century. The name “Berber" comes from the word meaning “Barbarian" as these people were pagan and did not believe in Islam. The word “Berber” today is insulting to the Amazigh people if spoken by a Moroccan but is accepted as a word used commonly by tourists. Our guide, Zoohair is Amazigh and he wanted to teach us the correct term and the history of his people. I will be using the correct term, inshallah.

The Amazigh people are an ethnic group of several nations indigenous to North Africa and in some northern parts of Western Africa. Amazigh people constitute the populations of Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya, Mauritania, northern Mali, northern Niger, and a small part of western Egypt. After the Muslim conquest in the mid 600s, the Amazigh tribes of coastal North Africa became almost fully Islamized.

In 2011, the Moroccan constitution was revised to recognize the contributions of the Amazigh and Jewish people in the development of Morocco and to guarantee equal rights and protection and the restoration of culture and language. Prior to this, the culture, language, and heritage of the Amazigh people were being erased and the people marginalized. The Amazigh language was close to dead but this language is now being taught in schools. Here is the Amazigh alphabet and you can see the signs on the official government buildings are written in both Arabic and Amazigh.

This “conquer and eliminate the language and culture” is a worldwide process that we have seen over and over and in every part of the world we have visited. The victor is determined to turn the conquered into their own image or eliminate them completely. Why are people like this? it distresses me to the bottom of soul and makes my heart sick. People - no matter where, no matter color or creed, no matter belief system - have more similarities than differences, yet the differences divide us. When will we ever learn? When will we ever learn?

On to more uplifting topics...

We got this information and history as we drove to a little village of Elhomer to visit a traditional farm in the Rif Mountains to take a peek into the day-to-day life of a farmer and his family. Our time at Mohammed's and Ihssan's home was simply wonderful and it was magnified by their darling children, especially almost 3-year-old Zaynab. She was a little sponge and so capable of learning and loving it! Little Zaynab met us at the bus and like her father firmly shook our hands. Then she ran into the garden and picked a handful of fava beans that she distributed one at a time to us. Too cute! But what was even cuter happened moments after the distribution when she collected all the beans. The look she gave Mark - who had eaten half his bean already was priceless. He won’t be doing THAT again!

Below our friend Susan is holding the very solid 7 month old baby. Too cute.

We were warmly welcomed by the family, Ihssan's sister, and a neighbor with delicious mint tea. We chatted with the family for a while and then we followed Mohamed outside to see his gardens and land.

He and his wife grow most of the food to meet the needs of this family with some extra to take to the suk (market) to sell for additional money. They also raise chickens and goats for eggs, milk and meat. We learned a bit about the life in the mountains, and even got to participate in the making of the food we would share.

Under the leadership of little Zaynab, we picked fava beans, a few turnips and some onions. We worked with the neighbor to help make bread.

The neighbor supervised the making of the loaves and then went into the yard to build a fire in the mud oven.. The process was lengthy and VERY labor intensive. Inside the other two women prepared the main meal while we shucked our fava beans and peas and helped cut up vegetables. After more than an hour the oven was ready and the neighbor swept the oven with a broom made of rosemary tied to a stick. The loaves were carefully placed into the oven and the door secured. I need to remember this the next time I set my oven to 350 and wait for the bell to let me know it is at temp and ready to go. Sigh…. We are so privileged.

The meal was delicious and I “heard" that the bread was also delicious. (Sometimes I hate gluten!!) The life of a women in the mountains (and in all of Morocco) is hard and their responsibilities are many. This very important oven, for example will fall apart during the rainy season and will be have to be rebuilt. The life of the man in the mountains is also difficult, but his position of honor and respect in the family and community provides him with opportunities that are not available to the woman. The woman serves as the helpmate to the man when it comes to raising livestock, planting, harvesting and the maintenance and upkeep of the buildings. But she is alone when it comes to caring for the children, securing the food, cooking and serving the food, caring for clothes and upkeep of the home. She has not a washer or dryer, a dishwasher, or vacuum cleaner. She will walk miles carrying her wares to market or to find water to clean clothes. Look at this photo I took of a women washing her clothes using water from a viaduct used for irrigation.

Education is a big problem in the mountains. Many children cannot get to school due to location or are not allowed to attend because of farm responsibilities. Young women are often married by 16 and begin their duties in the home of her husband’s family with little or no education. Less than 6% of girls graduate from high school. This means that her children will continue in this path and that is a problem that results in poverty and hard physical labor. There is truly only one way out of poverty and that is education of girls and women.

Although this family visit was wonderful, we were aware of the unequal workload shouldered by the women. We finished out the evening back in Chefchaouen with a discussion with a women’s advocate and women’s studies expert about what is being done to improve the lives of women in the Morocco of the future.

I so appreciate these discussions and it certainly allows us to get a good look into the culture of a place we are visiting. Morocco is making good strides in women’s rights but they have far to go. Big steps were taken when the new constitution guaranteed women "civic and social" equality with men but having it written down is step one and making sure these rights are followed is another - less easily attained step.

Another recent change is that single mothers can now receive a birth certificate and the proper papers that will give the child the right to go to school and to seek employment. Let that set in for a second. Children born to single mothers prior to this change were simply invisible and doomed to poverty or crime. Polygamy is still legal but now there are many conditions that must be met before a judge will allow the man to take another wife. But the bottom line is the man still controls it all. If the wife objects to her husband taking a new wife, he can simply divorce her returning her to her village in shame.

Birth control is available upon demand and it is no longer necessary to get a man’s approval. Divorce laws have changed dramatically and now favor the mother in that the kids and mother keep the house. If mother were to re-marry however, she must move to the new husband’s home without her children. Sigh...

Historically high numbers of girls are finishing high school, going into higher education and moving into the work force - historically high - but still very low. These statistics are for urban areas and the rural stats are abysmal. Abortion is still illegal, but now discussion is happening. Women’s rights and contributions are going in the right direction, no doubt but at snail speed. Still moving though and that is good.

Today was a day well spent. A day of learning, thinking and introspection. Today was just one of reasons I love travel.

Stay tuned

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chikkachu · 8 years ago

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Mahrid

A/N: I’m so sorry this is very late for the mythical creature’s event. Anyway @nalu-nerd13 Surprise! I’m your partner. I hope you find this worth the wait. I don’t know what this turned out being but here it is anyway haha

Let me know if you guys like this world and I’ll actually try my luck at a multi-chapter (plus, I love to talk you all 😉). Also if anyone knows Arabic or a lot about Arabian mythology please get in touch with as I’d love to talk to you :D

I made a little mood board for this one which you can see here ---> Link

Please check out my writing master post if you want to read my other stories and the links to my ff.net & AO3 are there as well ---> Link

The quote in the summary is Oscar Wilde ;)

Songspiration:

You’re… Immortal? - Marcin Przybyłowicz

Mystery Man - Marcin Przybyłowicz

-x-

Summary

“The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden itself.” Lucy was about to find out this rang true when her true identity started to reveal itself. NaLu.

-x-

She felt nothing.

Darkness surrounded her, flickers of white formless hands clawed at her sub-conscious, coaxing her forward. To call her current state an abyss would be inaccurate, it was more a vacuum. The white ethereal energy sunk heavily into her skin, as it did so, her blindness seemed to lift. Heavy eyelids lifting, swirling with what seemed like grey mist crawled along rugged, thirsty land.

Bitter cold nipped at her nerves. Bone deep exhaustion tumbled into her spaced out mind, her fingers dug, trying to find a perch on the barren terrain. Questions of why it was so cold in the desert briefly crossing her mind. From her paralysed state on the ground, she notices large fissures forming in the sky, their colour a blinding white. Grey fog started to whirl becoming the deep black of burning material.

Perspiration dotted her skin, sub-zero temperatures morphing into unforgiving heat.

Trying to breathe, she felt her diaphragm spasm as she attempted to inhale. The air was thick with smoke, her lungs burned as tar polluted the air. Coating her airways, coughing and breath sounding a staccato as she struggled for her breath. Needles prickling under her skin as she started to suffocate. Blind and unable to breathe Lucy tried to yell, why wasn't anyone helping her?

Pricking turned to a stabbing pain, gasping she felt her body numb. Fear filling her as her body was dragged across the floor. Groaning, Lucy felt her muscle spasm as her wrists and ankles felt like they were being crushed into the ground.

The pressure in her lungs released and she spluttered as the air filled her lungs. Strange. Thick liquid coated her chest, dripping down her sides. Confusion consumed her, why were her senses no longer being attacked? Dropping her head to the side, still, she could see nothing but swirling smoke.

Cracked, barren earth offered no comfort as she shifted, sharp gravel digging into her back. Bringing an elbow up to support her body weight, core muscles still sore from earlier spasms, she looked down. It felt as if corrosive acid was eating at her skin, the burning unbearable.

Her chest cavity was gaping, congealed blood-forming thick globules around the wound situated above her heart. Ripping her hands from the ground she clutched the saturated fabric, a scream forming in her throat. A piercing noise rattled her ears, relentless and loud. She feared her eardrum would rupture. Hands stained crimson clutched over her lobes in a desperate attempt to stop the damage.

Then she felt translucent hands once again pull at her psyche, this time ripping her from her surroundings.

"Lucy!"

Her eyelids felt like lead as she tried to respond to the call. This wasn't the first time she had been pulled into vivid daydreams. If you could call it that, the event felt real, every pain, every emotion was hers. Coming to her body always felt clammy, as if the stifling heat had evolved into a fever. Lucy scrunched her face as she felt a damp cloth blot underneath her ear.

"Lucy?" Recognising the chirpy tone of her best friend, she slowly opened her eyes. Her vision distorted and blurred as her pupils adjusted to the light.

"Thank the heavens you're okay," Making out blue hair and Levy's signature yellow ribbon. Lucy welcomed the additional weight, arms enveloping her in a hug.

"I don't know about okay." She wasn't. Lucy tucked a blond tress behind her ear, cringing when feeling the sweat clinging to her forehead. Sitting up Lucy felt the cushions of Levi's lush sofa cave under her weight. Truly the thing was too comfortable and undoubtedly the reason she had fallen asleep during their meditation session.

"What happened to you?" Levy asked, plopping down at her side and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I don't know. It's happened before." Flashbacks of falling from her bed, or getting injuries from her dreams frightened her. Especially how her ears rang, as they are now, from the cry that tore her from the world.

"What? And you didn't say anything before we started?"

"It's only occurred at night before. I thought they were dreams." Lucy shrugged, nightmares were normal. She wasn't the type to make others worry about something trivial.

"Your eyes were open Lucy. Your sclera morphed, I could see outlines." That didn't sound good. In fact, the thought was starting to creep her out.

"Outlines?" She asked.

"Yes." Levy nodded, clapping her hands together standing abruptly, "Which reminded me of something I read a while back."

Scuttling into her bedroom, Levi returned minutes later with a tome that Lucy suspected would kill someone if you dropped it on their head. If the impact didn't kill them then the centuries worth of dirt caked onto the cover would.

"That looks like it's about to turn into dust," Lucy said, observing the state of said object. The tatty state of the leather binding the pages belied the golden plated spine.

E.N.D the letters were barely discernible, age eroding at the ink.

"That would be because it's old as dirt," Levy quipped, holding the book proudly, "I borrowed it from the Asmodeus Library at the college."

"Borrowed?" Lucy's mouth dropped open, " Levy, you're not allowed to take books out of there."

Honestly, her best friend never failed to surprise her with boundless temerity.

"As I said, a short loan they may not know about currently." Her best friend shrugged, "I've had it for 3 months so they obviously don't miss it." She dropped the tome onto the solid oak coffee table in front of them. The resulting dust cloud causing them both to cough.

"Three months!" Lucy didn't want to think about the overdue fines that would have incurred if the book was loaned out officially.

"Which isn't important Lu-chan." Levy wagged her finger in the familiar way Lucy had come to associate as her 'this is serious' gesture. "What is important is the name of the library."

"Levy, I don't know what you're talking about."

"The library is named after the first Djinn to rule over the modern world," Levy said, flicking the cover over revealed mottled pages, time staining the paper a sepia tone.

"And why would I care about Djinn?" Lucy asked, wondering the reason for the random mention, she sat forward to listen, "Djinn haven't been documented for thousands of years, even the scribes believe they are beings of pure myth."

"Since when has magic been about what we can and can't see? Besides those old crusties are set in their ways." Levy's scolding look said all Lucy needed to know, she should shut up and listen. History was her friend's forte, especially magical history. The girl's apartment was filled with weird and wonderful artefacts and a collection tacky merlin fridge magnets. Lucy didn't share her opinion on those for fear of her friends resulting conniption.

"Hey! I want to be a scribe." Lucy argues the fact they are all old crusties. Because she certainly wasn't.

"Lu-chan you are so much more than that. Which is the point I am getting to if you would stop interrupting me." Shushing her once again Levy opened the book to a certain page, with an accuracy that hinted this book was her latest project. If there were secrets to be found, Levy was on a mission to reveal them.

"Anyway, I did some research into this Asmodeus and he was the first djinn to break free from Alhalqa which translates directly to 'the ring'." Picking up a pair of glasses from the side, Lucy recognised them as seeing glasses. They were useful for reading quickly and translating all languages to the user's mother tongue.

"I still don't see why this is relevant to me."

"Alhalqa are rings made of blessed copper and iron, made to enslave the Djinn or as we know it a genie." Levy continued, explaining melted metals are manmade, their properties are forcefully changed. The metals deviated from nature and therefore have an adverse effect on beings that are intrinsically tied to the earth and magic.

Djinn were powerful beings and their magic reduced significantly in its presence, direct contact with their skin makes magic use potentially lethal i.e they can no longer use it limitlessly. Making them easier to control, but by no means helpless.

The sorcerers of old used to capture them as a living magic source. One that didn't require recharging and could cast catastrophic magic they would be unable to cast otherwise.

"To stop the ruthless greed for power of humans, Asmodeus cast a spell that sacrificed his body. His body became a gate, his blood the key and placed a curse on the earth that prevented humans having access to Eden." Eden, the dimension of paradise, a place of endless magic and unimaginable beauty. Lucy had heard many pipe dreams of discovery in the literature. She wasn't as enthused to come across it, as life had taught her; if something seemed too good to be true, it probably was.

What was the price of existing in such a place?

"I still don't know why this is relevant to me Levy?" Lucy asked, brain swirling with the information.

"This book is called the book of E.N.D and it is written in the ancient tongue or as some like to call it the language of angels."

"E.N.D? Sounds like your typical Indiana Jones artefact."

"To be honest that's not far off. Even some of the most talented tribes across the colleges' history have been unable to crack the code in this book" Face lighting up, Levy placed the book in Lucy's lap pointing to the foreign symbols that seemed to meld together, the harder she looked the blurrier it became.

"Code?" She asked.

"Yes. Knowing the ancient language isn't enough with this baby." That didn't matter to Levy, she had a talent for runes and hieroglyphs. "I managed to find out the Djinn live like the humans but they thrive in the alternate dimension and only crossed over to feed. They fed off our spirit but in return the kept the managed the cycles. I haven't managed to discover exactly what these cycles are."

"Levy." Lucy prompted her with her name, beginning to get interested.

"Okay, Okay. I just wanted to let you know if this wasn't my latest project. You wouldn't have a clue about what's been happening to you."

"Fine. I see your point."

"Good." Levi stated, diving straight back into her flow, "Another thing I found out is the djinn have a hierarchal society. The more power, the higher your status and the power is known from birth. All djinn are born in Alnnar Alhariqa which translates to 'the scorching fire'. It burns with the djinns sihr, their colour. Lucy your eyes went white but blue runes glowed on your skin whilst you were 'dreaming'." She tapped underneath her eye indicating the entire socket, "It was faint but it was there."

"Runes are branded by Alnnar Alhariqa," Levy sighed, lips pursing in frustration, "I can feel the magic pulsing within the book when I try to decipher as if the book is alive and choosing what it wants me to know."

"So, you're saying I might be a genie…" Lucy said the words slowly hoping it would make sense voicing them aloud.

"Basically. You've always been a gifted witch Lu-chan"

"That was down to hard work and studying, not because I'm this thing."

"There's always been something too natural about how fast you learn magic when you cast spells; the ethernano dances with you, not against you." It was true during spell combat training classes she had to rein in her spells, where others struggled to gather enough. Powerful spells had a rebound that wasn't pleasant, yet her instinct was to push, let the magic consume her, to yield.

Another reason was the magical community wasn't as accepting of abnormality as many would assume. Lucy didn't want to become a scholar's lab rat, to be examined and caged for the rest of her life. The only people who knew were those who had proven themselves trustworthy. Levy proved that ten times over when her life went to shot.

"Isn't that normal?"

"No, it's not. Most witches must concentrate to stop spells overwhelming them. Not with you."

"What am I supposed to do now?" As she said it, Lucy remembered her father had never allowed her to travel outside the city after her sixteenth birthday. She remembered that day clearly. Jude had been distant. In fact, he had been outright cruel, proceeding to take away everything that made her solitary life bearable. Her mother's pond was filled in, the statue of the water bearer smashed to pieces.

Aquarius.

Childhood memories of dancing running around in the serene waters with her mother, crumbled along with cold marble. Confined to her room, left feeling barren and akin to a prison when her furniture was removed. All traces of her mother being removed and replaced at a rapid pace.

Something a lonely child would perceive as normal for controlling parent, now it seemed like panic.

Asking her father should be easy enough if it wasn't for the fact he died of a heart attack last year. Very mortal and very human until his last breath. She knew going home was the best chance of finding answers. Even if the place was full of memories she'd rather stay in recesses of her mind.

Nostalgia filled her as she looked at her old home, desolate of life. Remembering a time of servants and merchants going about their day, at her father's behest. The rattle of old carriages on cobbled paths and the clopping of hooves as they made their way from the port, filled with souvenirs collected from all corners of the earth.

She loved to sit on the sea wall, listening to the waves break beneath her feet, sea birds calling from their nests atop the dainty harbour roofs.

Seaside cottages painted a vibrant white were now a smudged grey from years of neglect. The villagers that used to live on their land had long since deserted the village. Despite his faults, her father was a brilliant business man, his ingenuity keeping the place alive and thriving. As for Lucy, too many painful memories surrounded her hometown to consider staying here. So, she left and with no one to run the company, people left to find work and prosperity elsewhere.

Trekking her way up the steep path to the mansion, in her mind's eye, she could see the tradesmen who called out in greeting. The young master's little miss Lucy, who would smile happily from her mother's side as they browsed the shops for new interesting things to fill their home. Her mother used to buy her a book every week from a second-hand bookshop at the seafront.

Books that told the story of long-forgotten events and tales of mystery and adventure. Stories she couldn't wait for her mother to read to her at bedtime and as she got older, to read herself. Their home sat at the top of the village, obvious in its grandeur above the humble sloping rooftops.

A home that became a place to sleep in after her mother's death.

Passing through the wrought iron gates wasn't an easy task. Lucy found herself arguing with the rusted lock, almost cutting her palm as she forced it open. The scrapping of iron against brickwork echoed into village behind her, it's empty ricochet sending a shiver of mourning through her body. Squeezing her body into the garden she looked upon the place that might hold the answers to where she came from. The fountain she had fondly remembered stood outside the entrance, the stone still beautiful, setting it apart from the unkempt grounds surrounding it.

Gravel crunched under her weight as she carefully avoided overgrown bushes. Branches that once belonged to the topiary her mother has painstakingly sculpted jutted out into the path. As she neared the fountain she noticed the smell of stagnant water, moss and dead leaves coating the surface. Thankfully the stone was holding firm, no cracks marring the structure, albeit she could see dirt that clung to its side courtesy of the sea air, escalating the erosion of stone without the proper maintenance. She didn't notice that it was no longer the mess she had left it in. The past forefront in her mind.

Finding a purchase on the wall, Lucy sat on its ledge, like she used to as a child, laying her legs out flat and resting her back against a pillar. Grime stopped bothering Lucy when her life had taken a sad turn, showing her there were more important things to worry about than dirty clothes. Clothes could be washed anew. Loved ones, however, could not be brought back. No matter how many times she prayed. Thoughts of sitting at her mother's bedside surfaced, of gripping her hand desperately as if the touch would keep her on this plain.

Ashen skin looking dull against her porcelain glow, sores and tears covered her body, her eyes sunken life no longer dancing in their depths as she stared at the ceiling. Layla Heartfilia had stopped acknowledging people a long time ago, her vegetative state exhibiting no movement or recognition, for her husband or her beloved daughter. The moment Layla became sick her father changed, withdrawing from the world. An almost resentful look on his face in the rare moments he visited.

Lucy read her stories, called her name, held her hand and sang their favourite songs. Nothing worked. One day as she lay curled into her mama's side, telling her about her tutoring session, she heard a gurgle. Excitement filled her. Jumping off the bed she fetched a glass of water, placing it to her lips waiting for her to respond. She never did. Later in life, she realised it wasn't a gargle but a death rattle.

Lucy never found out what killed her, none of the medicine books she had read described the symptoms exactly. And her father refused to talk about it, keeping the knowledge with him in death.

Dipping her fingertips into the water, ripples from her touch cleared a patch of moss and shrubbery, allowing her to see the mirrored tones of twilight.

Paying attention, she could see blood orange accompanied by daffodil yellow. The water was stagnant, it shouldn't be clear, but murky and diluted. Glancing over the rest of the water she noticed it had changed to a clear state, algae now a neon periwinkle blue creating intricate swirls. It was breath-taking, the blue lights were little stars at dusk.

She could lean in and feel like she was touching the milky way, a single moment of her imagination taking her to an abyss. Where she could reach and the stars would reach back. Looking down, blue tribal marks started forming on her skin glowing in tandem with the algae. Sharply inhaling Lucy traced the bevelled lines following her arm upwards. Her feet poking out from under her skirt had the same pattern. Her eyes glanced back at her from the water, an eerie glowing white.

Leaning closer she saw the raised flesh around her eye, taking the form of speckles in an intricate mosaic, reminding her of Venetian masks. Shimmering and rippling, Lucy watched in amazement as her reflection started moving. A hand that should have stayed on the ledge was placed against the surface. As if it were a barrier.

Jerking backwards, the action causing her to slip and fall. Closing her eyes, she waited for the impact of the hitting a shallow bottom. It never came. Opening her eyes, she found herself floating in an expanse of water, vast and seemingly infinite. Panicking she spun around, throwing her body upward, holding her breath.

Looking up she could see the wall, ignoring the cold settling into her bones and making her body ache she tried to propel herself upwards. Instead of grabbing onto the side, she hit a barrier. An invisible force was stopping her from breaking through, forcing her back with a blast of magical energy. Pain threaded through her nerves, accompanied by a pounding headache said she was in trouble.

Swimming forward, she tried to free herself from whatever enchantment has been placed on the fountain. It was futile. The second blast draining her remaining strength. Darkness swallowed the world around her and she felt it latch onto her spirit, tearing it piece by piece from her body. Unable to move she watched as her soul was syphoned. Lucy had spent years of studying and she had never come across black magic of this magnitude. An enchantment that drained life. This wasn't witchcraft, it was sorcery.

Chattering birds, a light breeze caressing her cheek, and the sound of crickets in the height of summer permeated the silence of her mind. Coming too she realised, her body felt sticky in the humid air. The weight holding her in the darkness lifted, enabling her to bring her knees up, feeling lush grass under her soles.

Toes curling for better grip, Lucy pulled herself using her core muscles, folding her arms. Taking in her surroundings, Lucy noticed the bold colours that adorned the plant life, irises the size of which she had never seen grew at the bases of towering evergreens. Standing on shaky legs, she gritted her teeth as she felt needles pricking her skin. Walking forward, the jewellery adorning her attire jingling with each step.

Expanding her aura outward she tried to get a scope of the enchantments holding her in this world. It was powerful magic, to construct an entire plane of existence. To alter those who enter its realm, changing her attire was a feat she couldn't even contemplate, the cost to caster would be extreme.

The biggest question was the reason and she didn't anticipate a good one.

Unfortunately, breaking the enchantment required the know-how and as users of dark magic didn't want their hard work being undone. Figuring out the clues wouldn't be an easy task. Lucy hoped her natural lady luck would aid the process.

Smoke rising above the forest canopy was the first spate of fortune after hours of aimless wandering.

Smoke meant a fire and a controlled fire indicated life.

Seeing someone was better than being alone. Rushing in the same direction, keeping her eye on the smoke rising up to the red hues of the sky. If the bold and vivacious colours of the world didn't tell her she was far from home, the rose ether confirmed it. Undergrowth dug into her bare feet as she ran, her chiffon and cotton rags tangling in her legs.

The forest density increased as she progressed, it shouldn't be possible for them to have a will of their own, but Lucy could have sworn that was the case. Her foot snagged on what felt like root before her body catapulted upwards, hitting her head on a branch before falling. Snare tightening painfully around her foot as it stopped her hitting the ground, leaving her swinging. Lucy cursed as she felt her ankle pop, surmising the impact must have left her with a nasty sprain or fracture.

After hanging for a moment Lucy curled her body upward to try and grab the rope. The nerves in her ankle protesting extra pressure, shooting a warning signal straight up her leg and spine. Shuddering Lucy whimpered giving in momentarily, trying desperately to focus on something else and not the sensation wracking her system.

"I wouldn't do that."

Not expecting company Lucy jumped, twisting her body to the source. Yelping as her injury throbbed with vigour.

"What are you doing?" Irritation sparked from the stupid question.

"What does it look like?" She shot back, catching sight of the stranger for the first time.

Shock filled her as she took in a tall man, wearing a tatty black cloak, a hood covering their head and a white scarf was looped around broad shoulders.

"Hmph," Snarling with a tenor deep and rumbling, Lucy had to double take. Humans didn't have that kind of vocal capability. At that realisation, she could feel her heart rate increase.

What exactly was she looking at?

"Finally, a fitting reaction. Human." Spitting the word out, as though it was vulgar, she could hear accusation in his tone.

"What's your problem?" She asked, annoyed at his attitude and the fact he hadn't released her. The pain not helping with having no filter between her brain and mouth. At the back of her mind, she did register that strangely she had no fear of the being standing in front of her.

"You."

"Look, can you just let me down?" Scoffing, he brought his hand up and clicked his finger. Screeching Lucy barely had time to protect her head as she unceremoniously hit the floor when the rope disappeared. Snickering had her careening her head to the right, seeing his shoulders shaking in mirth.

"You look like a weirdo."

"No thanks to you!" Outrage filled her voice, her ire seemed to encourage him as chuckling turned to laughter.

"That face is an improvement, perhaps more humans should be captured like game. Then you wouldn't be so ugly." His sneer was unmistakable and she didn't need to see his face to know he was smirking.

"I am not ugly!"

"Not on the outside." He conceded but it wasn't the victory Lucy wanted.

"You are so rude."

"To those who deserve it" His reply was flippant, the way his body stiffened said he meant it.

"How do I deserve it?" She asked, rising to her feet trying to keep weight off her injury, "I was sitting in my garden minding my own business and now I'm here, talking to a jerk."

Huffing, he turned stomping off. Lucy attributed his body language to that of a child, his knees raising unnecessarily high and large hands cupping the back of his head. She didn't want to be left behind, she had been raised in a town and consequently had no idea how to survive in the wilderness. Numerous beasts could be waiting to kill her. Resolute in her decision, Lucy sprung forward in a burst of bravery. Hearing movement he turned as she tackled him, sending them plummeting to the ground.

Hearing an exasperated sigh fingers bit into the skin of her shoulders, a little too hard, as he tried to disentangle her from his person. Warmth spread rapidly through her system as though she submerged herself into a hot spring, her body absorbing his aura without question. Investigating where he gripped her shoulders, there were tribal looking marks similar to the patterns now emerging on her skin.

Red started to bleed into blue and recognition from an unknown source filled her, feeling her own spirit rise to interlace with his. Glancing up amazement etched on her face she went to question this new turn of events. His face neither pleased or inquisitive was fixed on the ground beside them. Lucy noticed her bag had opened its contents over the earth, including the book that Levi had lent her.

Initial shock over Lucy observed the man below her, his skin glowing akin to her own, however, his marking appeared to be aggressive in their symbology, engraved into his skin with energy that promoted power. As their auras moulded, she could feel his age and power in the marrow of her bones. In her years of study and practice, never had she met a being that held such vast energy.

Amber eyes narrowed into slits, the colour morphing between shades in his heightened state of anger. Briefly, she noted the shocking shade of pink crowning his angular face, accompanied by the nose of someone who had seen plenty of hand-to-hand combat. A look that was common of the young men joining gangs in the city. Judging by the solid mass of muscle that made up the man, he was no casual street fighter.

The glint in his eyes was that of an animal assessing its prey.

"Wha-!"

For the second time, Lucy found herself being flung back. Residue energy from his attack clung felt like lead on her psyche, magic was, of course, both physical and ethereal. Healing magic soothed mentally and bodily, similarly attacking damaged both. As quickly as he flung her back, he was out of sight.

"I-I know you're still there." Air head with magic power, its potency creating intense humidity.

Silk clung to her skin as her body struggled to adapt to the heady atmosphere. Her aura shimmering around her as it reacted to the foreign presence. Bubbling noises caught her attention, to her astonishment earth and trees started to smoulder, scorching holes opened in solid rock in seconds. Hot steam rising, the climate now akin to a natural sauna as it superheated the moisture in the air making it hard to breathe. Flashbacks to her visions, the choking, of dying, made panic rear its head.

What was this place?

Everything seemed to be void of life, barren just like her dream but this time she was conscious.

Red smoke started to wisp around her legs, crawling up her skin feeling like the patter of a thousand insects marching up her body. Despite having no experience with magic mutated to this extent, it didn't take much to figure out hostile intent. When casting a spell her body floated, blissful and at peace with the surrounding energy, a hug from the powers that be. The power surrounding her now was anything but friendly, malevolence imbued into its makeup.

"Alkhawna." A growl that tickled her ear, rasping, filled with bitter anger. Rage accumulated over aeons, longer than she could comprehend, mutated a husky tenor into a snarl.

"I don't know what you're saying"

"Kathaab," He said, she felt his mass against her back, hand applying pressure against her throat "You expect me to believe you don't know your own tongue."

"I wasn't raised as...djinn." Swallowing, the pressure of his hand not making it an easy task. Adrenaline pounding through her system as she desperately tried to think of a solution. There was no way she could overpower him; her best hope was the fact he hadn't killed her yet.

"Kathaab!"

"I told you I don't know what that means." And she didn't, however, Lucy was aware of the way nature seemed to respond to the language, magic palpating and vibrating as the sound rolled off his tongue.

"Liar."

"I am not a liar."

"You come here as her and you expect me to believe that." The mention of this her was spat from his tongue like poisoned blood. Pain and betrayal apparent, old memories loosening his grip but still it wasn't enough for her to break free.

"I still don't know what you're talking about," She said, trying a different approach with a soft tone. Hoping to appeal to kinder emotions in the man behind her. He was quiet, seconds ticked by and Lucy noticed his magic started to simmer down into a tolerable warmth once more.

"Zahri."

"What?"

"You are blue blood, Mahrid." He stated, the guy was full of confusing statements with no explanation. "Did they send you? Is their fucked-up game now?" And they were back to the anger. As for being Mahrid, Levy did mention something about the djinn were divided by a hierarchy.

"No one has sent me, I just," Exasperation laced her tone, what did she have to do for him to get the hint, "ended up here."

"You don't 'end up here'. This dimension was made for me, imprisons me." Releasing his grip, Lucy found herself being spun around to meet stunning eyes, the colour of the evergreens that had bordered her estate at home. Transfixed by the transformation, gravity was lost on her wandering mind.

"What?"

"Fond of the word?" Lucy recognised his playful tone, her mind whispered this is how he should sound.

"Shut up."

"Enough." Rough hands cupped her cheeks, a thumb silencing her retort, "Why are you here habibti?" Lucy noticed the fire still flickering in his eyes, the furrow in his brow said the man didn't trust her. The white haze from her vision flashed across her consciousness. A heavy sadness and foreign familiarity settled on her chest.

Habibti.

Beloved.

Lucy blinked, realising a single tear rolled down her cheek.

Why did he say it so sadly?

Natsu.

-x-

Glossary

Alkhawna - Traitor

Kathaab - Liar

Habibti - Beloved

Mahrid - Blue Djinn

sihr - Djinn Magic

Zahri - Blue

#nalu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #fairy tail #ftfanfics #mythcreationsfairytail #mahrid #djinn #genie #my fanfics #nalu fanfiction

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fabiofernandes · 7 years ago

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When in ROME: City Guide

Overview

Rome is one of the most beautiful Italian cities. It is inevitable to fall in love with the historical buildings, the friendly and loud speaking citizens, the fish based Mediterranean food and of course the chaos. Because of all that, Rome is the most popular destination in Italy. The country receives around 48.6 million tourists a year (2014) and from that, 14 million visits the capital. Between the many amazing places to visit, the Vatican Museum is the far most popular sight in the city with over 4.2 million tourists per year, making them the world's 37th most visited destination. In second we have the Colosseum with around 4 million tourists a year.

Between the ancient ruins such as the Forum and the Colosseum that evoke the power of the former Roman Empire, you will find the cosmopolitan city is full of influential art, architecture and culture.

Rome is by far my favorite city in Italy. It's typically the place some people will immediately love or hate. There is no indecision when it comes to Rome.

That is why I created this guide, to help you navigate in one of the best cities in the world, and hopefully you will enjoy and see the beauty I love so much.

"A fun fact, Rome became the capital city of a unified Italy only in 1870 after taking the title from Florence."

From the Beginning: Ancient Rome

The Ancient City is composed by the Roman Forum, Via Sacra, Arch of Titus, House and Temple of vestals, Palatine Hill and the Palace of Domitian. The Roman Forum, where some of the most fundamental monuments in the history of Rome can be seen, such as the Curia, the center of the Roman Senate, temples including the funeral altar of Julius Caesar, the remains of the magnificent House and Temple of the Vestals, and the Arch of Titus, with decorations recalling the Jewish religion.

From here, you will go up to the Palatine, the hill on which Romulus founded the city of Rome and which later became the site of the Imperial residences. Here it will be possible to see the impressive remains of one of the most important buildings, the Imperial Palace built by the Emperor Domitian, as well as the Imperial Family’s private stadium.

This spectacular visit concludes with a view over the Circus Maximum, the first and largest circus in Ancient Rome used primarily for chariot racing.

I recommend buying your ticket online in advance and arrive early, specially if you are going in the summer (From June until September). During this period, the temperatures in Rome can reach 38 degrees Celsius (100 Fahrenheit) and the sun is ruthless. Expect to walk a lot inside the ancient city, including small hikes to reach the best views. You will find water fountains in some places. The water is perfectly safe to drink, but since there are not too many fountains spread around the site and no places where you can buy water, I also recommend bringing your own bottle.

"Julius Ceaser was the one who introduced the modern 12 month calendar. Before that Lunar or Arabic calendars were used. It was known as the Julian calendar and was introduced in 46 BC."

THE FAVORITE SPOT: Colosseo

The Colosseum is still recognized by the whole world as a symbol of Rome. From ancient Roman times it was called "Amphitheatrum Flavium" by the name of the imperial family Flavia under which began and ended the work for its construction.

The Colosseum's interior was divided into three parts: the arena, cavea and podium. The arena had a wooden floor covered in sand to prevent the combatants from slipping and to soak up the blood. Trapdoors led down to the underground chambers and passageways beneath the arena floor. The cavea, for spectator seating, was divided into three tiers: magistrates and senior officials sat in the lowest tier, wealthy citizens in the middle and the plebs in the highest tier. Women (except for vestal virgins) were relegated to the cheapest sections at the top. The podium, a broad terrace in front of the tiers of seats, was reserved for emperors, senators and VIPs.

Another beautiful site to visit in front of the Colosseo is the Arch of Constantine (Italian: Arco di Costantino). It is a triumphal arch in Rome, situated between the Colosseum and the Palatine Hill. It was constructed by the Roman Senate to commemorate Constantine I's victory over Maxentius at the Battle of Milvian Bridge in 312.

You can arrive to the Colosseum by Metro red line (subway) station Colosseo. Also taxis can approach the perimeter and leave you in front of the entrance. To maximize your experience, I suggest doing a bicycle tour or renting a motorcycle Vespa scooter. There are Scooter options under 50cc you can rent without a driver's license. In addition, you will have no problem parking you scooter in the nearby streets.

I recommend buying your ticket online in advance and arrive early, specially if you are going in the summer (From June until September). Also, be prepared to stay in line and be patient.

THE VATICAN

The Vatican is the smallest country in the World, encircled by a 2-mile border with Italy. It stands on Vatican Hill in northwestern Rome, Italy west of the Tiber River. It is comprised of roughly 100 acres. The first thing you will probably notice is that the city is surrounded by tall stone walls. As an independent state, the Vatican City has its own pharmacy, post office, telephone system and media outlets. Around 1,000 live in the City.

What to visit?

St. Peter's Basilica:

Built on the foundation of the first St. Peter's, the new basilica took 120 years to complete. Masonry, sculpture, painting and mosaic work continued for nearly another 200 years. Now, It is the world's second-largest Christian church after the Yamoussoukro Basilica in Cote d'Ivoire. The dome of the basilica was designed by Michelangelo, and is 400 feet tall and 138 feet in diameter. The church is shaped like a cross and is almost 700 feet long, 450 feet wide at its widest point, and stands on more than 18,000 square yards. In the grottoes or necropolis, beneath the basilica, is a papal burial chamber. The tombs of many popes, including St. Peter (the first pope), are located there.

"Fun Fact: Despite its massive size and importance, St. Peter's is not a cathedral, which normally is a bishop's principal church. That means the pope is the bishop of Rome, and his cathedral church is in Rome and not in the Vatican as many people may think."

Vatican Museum:

"The Vatican, the Museum of Museums," not only houses the extensive collections of art, archaeology and ethno-anthropology gathered by the Popes over the centuries, but also contains some of the Apostolic Palace’s most extraordinary and artistically significant rooms.

The Vatican Museums themselves were originally founded as collections of works of classical archaeology. The Popes viewed themselves as the legitimate heirs of Roman history. The pagan capital had turned Christian; the imperium of Augustus and Trajan was merged into the imperium sine fine of the Catholic and Apostolic Church. The monuments of the Roman civilization therefore had to be preserved, safeguarded and revered ad maiorem Dei gloriam and for the honour and glory of the Church.

For me, this is one of the most beautiful museums in Europe. Make sure to reserve a full day to you visit that is because, like the Louvre, the museum is incredibly big. From the exhibitions, to the Apostolic rooms, the Sistine Chapel and the gardens, you will certainly spend many hours inside.

Tickets now are all by appointment and they start as early as 8 am. As always, arriving early in the morning is the best option. There are less people outside in line and when you get in it is the perfect opportunity to see the museum in peace. I recommend going straight to the Sistine Chapel and seeing it first. It will probably be empty and you will love to see the room like this. Then you can return to the beginning and see the rest of the collection.

"Fun Fact: The new museum was created thanks to the efforts of a wide-reaching campaign of purchases from antique dealers and excavators working in the Papal States. The Congress of Vienna (1815) and the diplomatic efforts of Antonio Canova, Inspector General of the Fine Arts and the Vatican Museums, made it possible to recover almost all of the previously seized artworks. "

ALTAR OF THE FATHERLAND

The Altare della Patria, also known as the Monumento Nazionale a Vittorio Emanuele II or Il Vittoriano, is a monument built in honor of Victor Emmanuel, the first king of a unified Italy, located in Rome, Italy.

This is a must see place in Rome, mainly because of its opulent size and majestic architecture. Another great thing about the Altar, is that you can visit it for free. Just go and climb the huge stairway to have a wonderful sight of Rome and have a closer look at the eternal flame.

WHAT TO VISIT ON THE STREETS?

Restaurant Cacio & Pepe

Where the true Romans and renowned chefs (like Anthony Bourdain) eat. This is my favorite restaurant in Rome. The food is unbelievably simple and good. The main dish is the Cacio & Pepe that gives the name to the restaurant. It is a simple spaghetti with cheese and peeper, but the done perfectly. Make sure to arrive at 12 pm to get a table, otherwise you will have to wait a lot. The menu is written on a board outside. Wine is produced by the house and served in glass jars in 3 different sizes. The best part: prices are very cheap!

Via Giuseppe Avezzana, 11, 00195 Roma, Italy | trattoriacacioepepeprati.com

Villa Borghese

The Central Park for the Romans. This beautiful park located in the hills, is not special because of its size, but because of its beautiful gardens. Don't expect to see anything like the French gardens in Paris or Versailles. This is truly Italian and more than that, truly Roman. The trees and plants is what you would expect if you lived in the ancient Rome. Make sure to reserve a full afternoon to walk around and have a Roman experience. You will find gardens, fountains, villas and many other things to see inside the park. One suggestion is to rent a bicycle and ride around. This would be specially great if you decide to ride from the Villa Borghese to our next stop: Piazza del Popolo.

sovraintendenzaroma.it

Piazza del Popolo and Fontana di Trevi

Do you remember the movie "La Dolce Vita"? Well, so you will remember this piazza and the fountain. Here, Marcello and Maddalena met the prostitute. The scene is beautiful, with the fountain, the black and white, the lights, and for those who love Italy and La Dolce Vita, you will love to see where the movie was shot.

Come il Latte

The BEST gelato you will have in Italy (that is right, in Italy). I am an apassionado (lover) of Gelato, and because of that I can tell that I tried ice creams more than any other human being. When it comes to gelato, this is the best you can get. The small store away from the city center produces its own gelato inside the store (as many others) . That is not what makes this gelato the best, but 3 other reasons: 1. Texture is like nothing you tasted: it has the perfect texture, not too soft and not too hard, doesn't taste like a yogurt but at the same time it also doesn't taste like an ice cream. It simply taste like a gelato should be, right in the middle; 2. The flavors and ingredients are amazing: I always test the quality of a gelato by the flavor Baccio di Latte, which is basically a milk gelato. I like to use that flavor because its simple and there are no distraction in comparing them. I can say, that once you mastered the Baccio di Latte, all other flavors must be good; 3. Baked brownie inside the cup: that is right, they put the dough inside the cup of the gelato and then they bake it for 5 to 8 minutes and last they serve the gelato of you preference. Hot fresh baked brownies and the best gelato, what can go wrong?

Via Silvio Spaventa, 24/26, 00187 Roma, Italy | comeillatte.it

#Rome #Italy #Italia #Roman #Roman Forum #Forum Romano #When in Rome #Colosseo #Colosseum #Pantheon #Ancient City #Arch of Constantine #Vatican #Pope #Altare Della Patria #Spanish Steps #City Guide #Tourism #Tour

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truthseeker33-33 · 8 years ago

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We Have No HOME

I’ve finally had some free time to reflect upon my recent trip to East Africa - especially, in terms of my general “Back-to-Africa” outlook. And by “reflection,” I’m referring to the life-engaging process that deepens one’s thoughtfulness and distinguishes between a) reflection on experience, and b) reflection on the conditions that shape our experiences (Van Manen, 1991).

First of all, as Black Americans were are NOT African! Certainly, there’s much more to being African than simply being black (dark-skinned). If a man gets a boob job would we call him a woman? Obviously not! Biologically, chemically, skeletally he’ll always be a man despite having the outer appearance/features of a woman. And so the same concept applies for the Black American. Being black (dark-skinned) doesn’t make us African - though we share common physical attributes.

Not only so, but even native Africans themselves don’t consider us to be “African.” And why would they? We have almost no explicit connection to the culture, no direct tribal affiliations, nor do we speak a native African language (albeit, French is spoken in several African countries). As such, native Africans will always consider us to be mere Americans, Brits, or any other nationalities that we represent outside the continent. Let’s think about that and allow it to sink in for a moment???

While in Kenya, I had a great time going around and visiting many of the popular sites/attractions within Nairobi. By nature, Kenyans are very open to outsiders. I’m sure that being a former British colony has influenced them a great deal in this regard. And with English being a very widely spoken second language, it’s quite easy to strike up a conversation with anyone at random throughout the country. But again, though very outgoing and open to chatter, Kenyans will never consider Black Americans to be truly African. Therefore, I find it quite odd that we’re so quick to latch on to the label of “African-American.” This along with several others are labels that we’ve been branded with over history. Nigger, Negro, Afro-American, African-American, etc. But remember, these are names and labels that we were given - not ones which we as a people have actually coined for ourselves.

African-American? What does that really mean? Especially, when you personally visit an African nation and come to the very firm conclusion that we are not at all African in the least. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a firm supporter of Marcus Garvey (d. 1940) and those other like-minded, early black pioneers who helped wake up the black masses from their long-standing delusions. America is not HOME, nor will it ever be! That was their slogan. These leaders clearly saw the writing on the wall, and it was time to start making preparations to migrate elsewhere. It’s as if Garvey could foresee decades into the future and envision black assassinations, political infiltrations, communal disenfranchisement, as well as, the present-day “Black Lives Matter” movement. For Garvey, it was much brighter on the other side of the rainbow (i.e Africa). And above all, his view was quite simple:

If you can’t beat ‘em, leave ‘em!

But yet despite this, there are also other factors which I do happen to disagree with concerning Garveyites. For instance, although fervent and sincere in his approach I don’t believe that he fully recognized both the social and logistical hardships with masses of Black Americans migrating to African lands. I have in fact researched about several small communities of Black Americans having some limited range of success with overseas migration. For example, the African Hebrew Israelite community that took refuge in Dimona, Israel under the leadership of the late, Ben Ammi (d. 2014). This community in particular is quite notable – as after decades of political and social campaigning many of their members were in fact able to secure Israeli citizenship via Israel’s Repatriation Program. But of course, this also came with several sharp stipulations including, mandatory military service in the IDF for young men/women under the age of 25. There’s also the Rastafari movement coming from both North America and the Caribbean in the 60s who were allocated small plots of land in Shashamane (Ethiopia) under the auspices of His Highness Emperor Haile Salisse (d. 1975). Several migrant Rastafari’s were given personal land of the Emperor in order to resettle in Ethiopia. Though successful in most respects, many Rastafari’s were never actually given full citizenship (residence permits only) and subsequently had to return back to the West. Nonetheless, these do serve as modern examples of how migrating in small numbers/communities and being persistent in your pursuits can eventually pay off quite rewardingly over the long term. However, I’m speaking more in terms of the “mass migrations” proposed by Garveyites and other Back-to-Africa movements.

In the broad sense, this is just simply impractical – and not mention, very unreasonable. You also have to keep in mind that even if mass hordes of Black Americans left North America to “resettle” in Africa (or elsewhere for that matter), they’d do nothing more than eventually cause an economic and social strain on the local, indigenous peoples. And sadly, this is exactly what many Americans (melanin-deficient ones in particular) use to overly criticize Latino immigrants in the US, and war-torn Arab migrants in Europe. So while Black migrants seeking African asylum would consider themselves as humbly “returning to the Motherland,” the native populous would come to view them with bitterness and discontent. And how can you blame them? Mass migrants would over-occupy jobs and exhaust other limited resources - especially seeing, that most African nations are still quite infant in their overall development.

So what does that all mean? Very simple; just like the title represents – we have no HOME! As a people we’re just going to have to get over this in one way or another. And even the idea of “home” itself – what or where is HOME exactly? Is it necessarily your land of origin (i.e. place of birth)? How about your passport – does it by itself truly elicit your “home?” For me, in many years of extensive travels around the world, I’ve humbly learned that HOME is wherever you can forge a social, economic and political future for both yourself and for your family. That’s HOME! Politics aside, you’ll need a place where you can have a feasible opportunity to buy land, own property, secure financial stability, establish business(es), while also having access to affordable education, healthcare and so on. And hey, if you can accomplish all of that from US living, then so be it. But I’m talking about the whole lot – not just a few of the above benefits. Having “partial” benefits definitely wont’ suffice. And so, beyond the meager 2-3% of black celebrities, entertainers, sports figures and a few notable politicians, etc, where does that leave the rest of the Black American masses? Can this remaining lot really acquire land, property, businesses, quality healthcare, and the like? Obviously not. Which means essentially, that the overwhelming majority of Black Americans are living on mere subsistence (i.e. just enough to survive). And so in total agreement with Garvey and others – the question remains…how long will Black Americans be satisfied with living in America on the outer periphery? This question certainly demands an answer. Does it not? Living paycheck to paycheck, and having just enough to get by every month certainly isn’t “success” by any stretch of the imagination. So what’s the solution – migration. And to where? Again, wherever you can accomplish the above mentioned social and economic distinctions.

Let me give a practical example. I have a good friend/colleague who took up residence in the Philippines after working several years in the country as an English teacher. By marriage to a local Filipina, this gave him direct access to all the rights and basic privileges of a local. In two years time he built a new home from the ground up in a promising residential area just near the beach – all for a fraction of the cost that you’d expect to pay in the US. Along with teaching, he also established a small English language school (private) and opened a restaurant catering to both American and local Filipino cuisines. He also has a young son from a previous relationship who spends a part of the year with him in the Philippines. Under the contract of his current international school he receives a tuition allowance for up to 2 dependents – which covers 100% of their tuition expenses.

Not only does his company offer Class A medical coverage for his entire family, they also provided free, furnished housing which he declined, as he has his own accommodation. He opted instead for the annual housing allowance which he then used to open his restaurant alongside his part-time English school. Make sense? And when asked about his own personal views concerning overseas living he says this: “For me, I’m all about looking ahead and being innovative in my thinking and world views. Personally speaking, I’ve never really felt like an ‘American’ while living in the United States. Our people have always lived on the outer fringes of American society. And obviously this isn’t going to change anytime soon. Therefore, as a people we must survive and advance - there’s no other alternative. It’s that simple! And so, I’ve found that living abroad can not only be financially and socially very rewarding, but it has also given me the chance to do and experience things that I never would’ve gotten from life in America - especially as a man of color. The US is like one big powder keg just waiting to explode! Black Lives Matter is only the beginning. I believe that another major civil rights movement is well under way in the United States. History always repeats itself. That nation was founded on prejudice and racial indifference. And therefore, race relations and other forms of racial discrimination will always be present in one way or another. And for me, life is simply way too short to be wasted away living in a nation with those types of principles. Not me. I’ve always wanted more for myself and my family. Not to bring up religion, but even the Islamic Prophet Muhammad and his people had to migrate away from their native land in Mecca as a means to preserve themselves and their religious integrity. I would say our situation as a people is much similar to this in certain respects. It all comes down to one’s outlook, and where your standards are set in life…"

Now the Philippines is certainly not Africa; not even close. But who cares! Which continent or country is beside the point. According to my view, my good friend is truly “successful,“ indeed. What more could you ask for? Above all, less than winning the lottery he could NEVER attain this level of status and privilege living in America. Overseas, he doesn’t have the daily worries of how he’ll pay the bills and provide for his family. No police brutalities or wondering whether he’ll make it home tonight to tuck his son in bed. No unfair labor practices that constantly keep him economically disenfranchised. Etc, etc, etc.

There are probably dozens of other factors which I could list in reference to my topic, but I believe that this quick snapshot is more than sufficient to make the matter very clear. But at the end of day, of course, to each his own. I just believe that it’s long overdue for us as Black Americans to start facing our apparent reality, and finding reasonable, viable solutions - elsewhere.

Works Cited: Van Manen, Max “The Tact of Teaching: The Meaning of Pedagogical Thoughtfulness,” 1991

#marcus garvey #black america #black lives matter #migration #back-to-africa #black politics #garveyites #african-american

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