#rebirth retold

[xxwitchylanexx]

A Night Under The Moon-Cloud Strife x Reader

Rebirth Retold Chapter 3

No Story Spoilers

Chapter 4

Masterlist

*~*

That night their group set up camp on the edge of the somber swamp, finally ready to cross the desolate stretch after two weeks of odd jobs in the Woodlands. The murky water and foggy air made for the perfect hunting grounds for the infamous Midgar Zolom. The possibility of being ambushed had everyone on the edge of their seats. You assured them that the camp was far enough away from the edge. The tents more into the woods than on the shoreline would give ample time if it was to strike. However that had little effect on the rising tension becoming more and more charged with anxiety and adrenaline by the second.

You laid flat backed on your sleeping roll with a knee bent towards the sky. You could barely see the gentle twinkles of the stars above through the thick mist that blew off the sulfuric water. You missed the ambient chatter of the Woodlands despite being literal feet from it. The polluted land long since drove out anything but fiends and scavengers. Even the others grew quiet the lifeless swamp slowly sapping the once joyful vibe leaving everyone disheartened.

You couldn’t take anymore. The silence was suffocating and your ears felt as if an immense pressure was pushing against your ear drums causing the intake and exhales of your breathing to echo loudly in your skull. You rose to your feet quickly and strode off into the shadows of the looming treeline. As soon as you felt you were far enough away from the bottomless pits of muck, debris, and decomposing remnants you slowed. You footsteps quieted into the soft padding of the old dirt road you used earlier that day. The dark withered plants that would crumble by the lightest of touches slowly morphed into strong mossy green ferns, and the occasional patch of wild flowers that thrived in the abundance of nutrients the forest provided. You soaked in the bursting energy for the whispers among the leaves, breathed in the crisp clean air, and only then did the infectious despair fade within the steady beats of your heart.

You knew it was silly. You’ve came toe to toe with bigger evils than the Midgar Zolom. You’ve seen worse horrors than the over polluted river that carried the remnants of the mako pipes that have leaked over the years. It was silly that something as insignificant in the scheme of these could unnerve you. You, who has endured an unimaginable amount of humanity’s abominations. You, who did not falter under the strain of pressure or threat of danger.

You just hated that a place like this was seated on the opposite side of such a wondrous place. You hated that anyone who was lucky enough to flee the monstrosities of Midgar only to find some peace in the Woodlands then gets trapped in the complex uninhabitable hunting ground of Midgar’s creation. You hated that your home, or the closest thing to a home you had, was basically a cage to prevent anyone from spreading their seeing Gaia with their own two eyes.

It was hard to believe you were leaving once again. How long had you been here this time? A year? Maybe eighteen months. You were thankful for Bill. Even after having his plate full with raising his grandkids after the death of their parents he still found space to take you in when you had nowhere to go. He provided you with room and board in exchange with training some of his chocobos, and when he realized you had a special talent for connecting with them he even found you some clients interested in giving you a shot. Then through the power of word of mouth and your hard work you built up a clientele that allows you to do this for a living. You never thought people would benefit from your gift besides betting on your tremendous jockey record.

Your feet carried you up a winding foot path and up a steep incline, using a few of the thinner trees to keep your stability. Once the ground leveled out you slipped through a gap in the trees where the grass grew a bit more wild. A few wildflowers popped here and there across the wide meadow, and the forest gale swept through the blades of grass leaving behind its melody. You leaned against the rough bark of the nearest tree and toed off you boots the course stems of grass tickled at the underside of your feet. You bathed yourself in the light of the moon as you twirled across the field to the center taking in a huge breath relishing in the crispness of the air.

You gazed up at the vast sky, finding peace in the gentle winks the stars bestowed upon you. Slowly you sank onto to your knees before laying down until the flat of your back met the chilly ground. You ran her fingertips through the blades of grass at your sides, and gently plucked at a few from time to time. Time slowed as you allowed yourself to swept away from any troubles in the symphony of buzzing wings, the song of the cicadas, and chirping grasshoppers.

You never could get used to how far the sky above you, unlike the steel sky you grew up under. Everything felt so restricting back then. The darkness of Midgar was skilled in clipping your wings before you truly learned to fly. It kept you shackled to the inhuman ways of greed, lust, and power. Though you tried your hardest not to allow yourself to be caught in the lurking memories of the life you led then, you couldn’t help but wonder if anything had changed. Did anyone miss you? Probably not. In fact many slumlords probably slept easier knowing your blade had been buried with the body they believed was yours while your captor raged at the loss of income you’d brought in.

Six years ago you truly thought you were going to die that night in the coliseum. You hadn't wanted to participate in the Corneo Cup but the debt you owed to that woman for your upbringing-if you could call it that- was was high as the walls around Wall Market, and only winning the matches would provide enough to keep your ‘guardian’ at bay. You survived all the rounds by the skin of your teeth, the exhaustion of such a drawn out competition draining you in a way that left you lifeless. So the terror when they announced a surprise finale had hooked its claws into the fascia of your useless muscle. Bile rose into your throat and you actually considered to just lie down and accept your fate. But when your opponent was released onto the stage with you you knew your death would be far worse than any pain you’d experienced before, and you never in a million years thought the Don to be so cruel. Fresh from the depth of the Shinra labs, as if he knew where she came from, a humanoid figure stumbled through the gates. It’d smelled of rotten flesh and smoky char. Painful groans emanated deep in its’ chest since its mouth was branded shut. Claws glowed a foul purple, more that likely a product of producing some kind of venom that could prove fatal or just paralyze you so you’d be conscious as it teared you apart. You didn’t remember a lot of details beyond the pain that consumed you as its claws impaled you and twisted within your belly. You should’ve died.

You were told you’d struck it down before it could finish the job however you lost consciousness. You’d came to weeks after hidden away in a strange bedroom you’d never seen before. That’s when Chocobo Sam waltzed in, filled you in on the details, and proposed an exchange. He’d arranged for the world to believe you dead, and was preparing a funeral. He would smuggle you out of Midgar in exchange for your employment in the world of chocobo racing. After all help never came for free. Even back then in the streets of Midgar you held a special connection with his chocobos, and with a little training he believed you’d be a world class jockey, and in turn make him a lot of money. Now, as a free woman who’s had the chance to finally spread your wings, you looked for ways to atone for the for the things you’ve done, and people you’ve hurt.

You thought if you stayed on your own, embraced the bitter loneliness that forever contained, and used your skills to help the people of Gaia as you wandered from town to town that maybe the sins of the past would begin to fade. And when you take your last breath on this Planet the scars you’ve inflicted would disappear alongside you. At least that was the hope. Though you aren’t really sure anymore. Maybe there was a better way to set things right.

You told yourself you’d accompany them until they arrived at the saucer, return to your work, and consider it another job well done, but with every day, even though it’s only been two short weeks, you find yourself wishing that you would never have to leave them.

Tifa was like a big sister. The raven haired beauty always checked in with to make sure you was eating enough, or that you weren’t getting too worn down from all the fights that seemed to gravitate their way. She asked your favorite foods, and tried to accommodate your preferences alongside everyone else’s, and don’t get you started about how she nitpicks at your sleeping habits. You don’t understand why it’s such a big deal to sleep under the stars instead of inside of a tent.

You got along well enough with Barret. You quickly learned that as long as you listened to his many stories about the planet and how Shinra was shit, which was the one thing everyone could agree on, you’d get along fine. Though you made a mental note to pick up some ear plugs the next time the group stays in a town. You didn’t mind how much his voice carried in the daylight, but if you had to lose another second of sleep to his ground breaking snores you was going to lose you mind.

You absolutely adored Red XIII. The two of you had become fast friends. In fact the moment you offered him some of the choco treats you had, you had him eating out of the palm of your hand. Literally. As a thank you, Red would often curl up next to your bed roll to cast some extra heat your way. Sometimes after everyone else drifted off you’d point out your favorite stars that hung in the sky and he’d teach you the name of it.

Aerith was a breath of fresh air. So upbeat and full of life. She seen the good in everything, and led her life with grace. As they traveled, she’d point out flowers that she liked or ones she thought you’d enjoy as well. You didn’t have the heart to tell her they were just a part of the background for you. She’d ask you so many questions like: Where are you from? What do you like the most about chocobos? What’s your type in guys? The last one so out of left field it caught you off-guard.

The only guy you currently thought about was the one member of the group that remained a mystery.

Your curiosity burned within you, at times consuming your thoughts that’d be better used elsewhere. The occasional peek behind this tough, brooding act fueled you to be more daring, but the odd swelling of your heart urged you to keep your distance, and he had little to no difficulty in avoiding you. Every now and then Aerith— her insistence seemed a bit odd to you but you figured maybe she was just trying to get him to be polite-suggested that he should sit next to you, or accompany you to collect water or firewood, but even then his body would remain as stiff as a board. It was very clear how uncomfortable he was. Yet, from time to time she could feel the way his stare drilled into you, or when you thought it was safe to sneak a peak at him- I mean who could blame you- he’d already be looking at you. Embarrassment would swell at being caught though the weight of his eyes would remain heavy on your flushed face even after you’d look away.

You sighed as your gaze refocused on the luminous moon, and in a moment of vulnerability you asked it to shed some light on the situation, and maybe ease the fluttering in your chest.

Somewhere in her peripheral a green flicker bounced through the tall grass. You rose onto your elbows, and twisted at the hips in the direction you first saw it. You trained your eyes, scanning high and low for the source. You began to believe you had imagined it until the faint green glow flared once again, flashing six times before growing dark. Lightning bugs.

*~*

Cloud hadn’t meant to stumble upon the scene that played out in front of him. If anything, it was Tifa’s fault since she had asked him to go and find more wood for the fire.

He had combed through the woods after no luck finding burnable pieces near the swamp. Everything was soggy and covered in rot from lying in such mucky water. Truth be told, he jumped on the opportunity to stray from stifling group setting. He basked in the tranquil silence that didn’t happen much anymore since the group had doubled in size the only noises he heard now were the crickets calls and his feet swishing across the ground. He aimlessly picked up dry sticks and bark for kindling and trekked over to a few tress that had a few fallen branches that would last awhile when a rhythmic thumping vibrated through the ground from the clearing up ahead. The movement up him on alert dropping the wood to the ground next to the trunk of the tree he was at and brought a hand up to grip the hilt of his sword.

With measured steps, he stalked forward doing his best to blend into the thin shadows the tress cast to the edge of the tree line. His bicep brushed against the bark roughly as he peered around its’ circumferences. Cloud expected some fiends, boy was he wrong.

The entire clearing was bathed in the full moon’s light. Hundreds of flashing lightning bugs fluttered in circles in soft shades of greens and yellow, and in the center of it all was you in all your striking beauty swaying along with the insects’ movements. He felt himself pull his blade from his back and lean it up against the truck that has kept him hidden. His expression softening without his permission and his eyes swimming in awe of the way you danced as if you were the wind yourself.

His feet began to inch closer to you, his clunky boots padded softly in the grass despite being too hypnotized to care if you was loud or not. He found it rather amusing that he’d tried his hardest not to be alone with you and yet here he was being drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He still didn’t know what to say or do around you. Should he act tough, or should he be more gentle? How would he even go about that? What should he talk about, or should he let you choose a topic and just go along with it? What if the other realize he’s acting different around you? Would they all tease him as mercilessly as Aerith did? He was so stuck in his own head that most of the interactions had been awkward he always felt he came off colder than he wanted to. Only for Aerith to have been watching the entire interaction and tease about his ‘crush’. He’d scoffed, and wave her off saying nothing had changed, but you clung to every bit of his free thoughts and he felt like he was going wild.

You weren’t shy or meek. You had the guts to put Barrett in a headlock when he rambled on for two hours about Shinra killing the planet. Did you have a death wish? You were smart and intuitive, winning Red’s affection by appreciating his intelligence instead of treating him as an animal. How you trained with Tifa and surprisingly could hold your own. His head still plagued him with worry that he wouldn’t be able to protect you in the coming challenges this journey will hold. Yet the spark in your eye when you try to convince him to allow you to fight did something to him. He hated how chummy Aerith got with you. Every day she’d approach him with some new info she learned that could ‘help’ him out. You grew up in Midgar. You liked being in the outdoors vs. being inside. You didn’t seem all that interested in flowers. You preferred salty over sweet, and other things she deemed important for him to know. All it did was make his hands clammy when he got close to you, and internally panic as he was unsure how to interact with you.

So why was this moment so different? Sure his pulse raced, but his need to be close to you override the hesitation that consumed him. Maybe he had to be in a trance so his desires could run freely, though his nose crinkled at the thought that he wouldn’t ever be able to be himself around you. He stopped just a few feet away. You were to focused as you hunched over one of the flickering bugs, your braid falling over your shoulder as you leaned over. There was just something so enchanting about seeing you trying to capture lightning bugs like he had when he was young back home on nights sleep eluded him.

Your brows drew together, and that crinkle between them reappeared, as you stretched out your hands and cupped each one in a half circle. You took in a deep breath and exhaled as you quickly clapped your hands around one, as fast as a snake. You shrieked with joy as you hopped a little as cradled the tiny insect against your chest. You peered down at it through the gaps between your finger, a gentle smile graced your pretty face the greenish light highlighting the e/c of your eyes.

He stretched a hand out to you, for what purpose he wasn’t sure, but you must have seen him then out of the corner of your eye because you jolted upwards with a quiet squeak - cute - and hands thrown up releasing the bug you worked so hard to catch.

“Fuck!” you cried as a hand clutched at your chest as you tried to still your rapid heartbeat. “You scared the shit out of me!” You yelled as you stomped over to him and smacked his shoulder. He had to summon all the stubborn willpower in his body to keep the corners of his mouth from inching into a smile. “I worked so hard to capture him, you ass!” You spun the opposite direction without giving him a chance to explain and began looking for your next target like he wasn’t even there.

He scratched at the back of his neck as he shuffled a tiny bit closer to you, “Sorry. I- uh,” Cloud shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. “Was looking for firewood.” Your lack of a response had him cursing at himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have approached you at all. He awkwardly turned back to the forest and intending to collect the branches, get back to the camp, and hole himself up. He even made a few steps back to the treeline before he stopped to consider if he should say goodbye. He twisted on his feet to look at you again.

He hadn’t expected you to be watching him, for your eyes to trace over him, study him, as he struggled with what to do next. The silence continued and while it should’ve felt awkward it didn’t. He huffed before looking over at a group of the bugs to the right of her, muttering. “I, uh, could help.” He flicked his eyes to your face briefly to gauge your reaction, not expecting the lopsided smile to be there as you continued to stare him down. “Or whatever.” He shrugged.

“Really?” You asked your head leaning slightly to the side. He only nodded to answer your question. “Alright, show me those skills, soldier boy.” You laughed the sound making him feel so much lighter.

He groaned at your teasing. “Ex-soldier.”

As ge spent a good hour or two jumping, leaping, and rolling trying to catch one of the damn things, no doubt completely embarrassing himself as you sat back and enjoyed the show, he wished he’d never opened his mouth. You must think him pathetic that a man of his skill set couldn’t catch one little bug, but when he finally caught one to present to you it made every minute of it worth it.

Your eyes lit up like he’d given you the heavens, a wide smile glowed on your s/c skin, and the gentle brush of his hand against yours as he settled it into yours had goosebumps racing against his flushed skin. To be close enough to shamelessly admire you, as you watched the critter flutter around your cupped palms, was enough payment for his services. Not that he’d ever charge you, and he’d do it all again just to see the way your face slowly warmed once you realized the attention he was giving you.

Until you finally couldn’t take it anymore, and you peered up at him through your dark lashes like you did that first day. His heart knocking against his ribs, trying to burst through his chest and land in your palms to be handled just as gently as the bug. Your voice was barely louder than a whisper as you spoke, “Thank you.”

He blinked once and then turned away from you completely. He didn’t wait for you either as he walked back to the edge of the clearing the weight of his thoughts revealing things he’d never expected to feel. How on Gaia did this even happen? One minute he was a bad ass mercenary and one bug later he was a love struck fool. He had to put some distance between you before he lost his mind altogether. He didn’t have time for shit like this. Sephiroth is out there and if he found out, Cloud could only imagine the shit he’d do to exploit this new weakness. He only allowed himself to look back once after he slung his sword onto his back and gathered the wood he’d abandoned there. “Let’s go back.” He called to you before quickly stalking back to the camp, leaving you there alone.

You looked around the shadowed field, noticing all the wonderful critters disappeared almost as abruptly as they appeared. The whole scene faded like a dream and left you with more questions about the man than when you asked the moon just a few hours ago. You glanced at it once more before making your way back to camp wondering if it was mocking you.

[ruibaozha]

Are gods born gods? Or do they do cultivation to achieve divinity? Was Nezha born already a god or how could he be considered?

Hello!

This is actually a pretty simple answer that finds it’s roots in Daoism. Put simply, no, someone cannot be born as a god but must cultivate their qi through numerous reincarnations to be reborn into the Celestial Realm as an immortal - although many cases of Buddhist Immortals granting immortality to mortals is a somewhat common occurrence.

More information about Daoist cultivation can be found within Lao Tzu’s yes THAT Lao Tzu Tao Te Ching, among other values and philosophies that should be held onto through each of your lifetimes. If you look into other forms of Chinese media that sets itself as both supernatural and taking place in “ancient China” such as the wuxia or danmei genre, these media types pull very heavily on Daoist concepts and outdated methods of Chinese methods of scrying.

And as for Nezha? No, he was not born as a god and was born to the very mortal Li Jing and Yin Wuming. Before his origin tale was incorporated into Canonization of the Gods, he was granted godhood by Buddha through his rebirth using the lotus flower; which is briefly retold in this post. However, his involvement in Canonization of the Gods has his deification at the conclusion of the Shang and Zhou conflict - as well as deifying Ao Bing, Su Daji, and even his father.

Thank you for asking, I hadn’t realized how unclear this may have been.

[foodandfolklore]

Ostara and the Hare

The spring equinox is right around the corner! It's called Ostara on the Wiccan wheel, and it's one of my favourite holidays. The colours, the rainbows, the eggs, the flowers, the food; it is the embodiment of spring. There's just lots of fresh, new, albeit young energy everywhere.

But this post is not focusing on Ostara the Celebration. This is focusing on the story of Ostara and a Rabbit. It seems to be a German folktale from the late 1700s to early 1800s that was spread via word of mouth. The name Ostara comes from Eostre, Goddess of spring. Spring is all about beginnings, fertility, rebirth; so it's not surprising to see a folktale that combines symbols of these things catch on and be retold.

A little fun note about the story, the Gender of the Hare is never made clear. He is referred to as male, using He/Him pronouns in most stories (which I will continue to do) but he is able to lay eggs; something traditionally reserved for females in old folktales. It's mostly written off as a glitch in the magic, but maybe he is intersex? I dunno, but it's a little fun to think about.

Ostara and the Hare

One year, the winter was particularly long and harsh. The snow was deep, the air was cold, and the Goddess of Spring, Ostara, was late.

When she finally arrived, the animals and people were so thankful to see her. Her presence thawed the land; trees could start budding, and animals came out of hibernation and hiding to frolic. Soon, the sound of song birds could be heard singing as they flew around looking for a new love.

Ostara smiled as she looked across the land. As creatures passed her by, they always stopped to offer their praise and thanks. This pleased the Goddess Ostara, and she promised she'll stay until spring is in full swing. The animals rejoiced at her assurance and gave her many gifts to show gratitude.

Then, a lone bird approached Ostara, walking up to her on land. His feathers had been damaged from the long frost and he could not fly. He looked ragged and exhausted. The happiness and energy that reached the other animals did not seem to affect him.

"My Goddess, Ostara. I come to you with a request." the bird kept his head low and his tone respectful, "Your power is great and I ask you use that power to change me into a Hare."

"A Hare?" Ostara looked confused, "You do not wish to live your life as a bird?"

"Every year, winter is long and harsh." The bird explained, "I can do nothing but huddle in my nest and try to keep warm. But I see the Hares move about easily in the snow, kept warm by their fur. My feathers can not endure another winter like the last." Ostara looked the bird over, and indeed his feathers did not seem suited for an icy winter. She agreed and used her powers to turn the bird into a Hare, like he asked.

"Go now." she spoke once the transformation was finished, "Live your life as a humble, but warm, Hare." When he realized he was now a Hare, he leapt high into the air cheering for joy. But when he landed, something strange happened. In his excitement, he laid an egg.

The egg was a pretty sky blue with green pokadots. An egg unlike anything ever seen before. Ostara looked at it, enthralled. The Hare picked up his decorative egg and offered it to Ostara. She took it with great enthusiasm and the Hare hopped off.

Word of the Hare blessed by Ostara started to spread fast. Animals and creatures from all over came to him, wanting to see the colourful eggs. Each time he laid an egg, they came out different and unique. Everyone loved to see and receive his eggs, and he in turn loved the new attention he got.

After some time went by, Ostara noticed a change in the forest. Despite spring continuing to come, the praise and thanks she got from the creatures stopped. All animals, from birds to deer to mice, would pass by and not stop to acknowledge her. They all seemed focused on where they were going. Curious, Ostara followed them one day.

All the animals were going to see the Hare and his eggs. She watched while hidden. The Hare would hop and lay a new, colourful egg. Dozens of coloured eggs surround him with impressive vibrancy and intricate patterns. Ostara looked at the egg the Hare has given her earlier, and was annoyed how simple and plain it looked in comparison.

The creatures cheered as the Hare made more eggs and handed them out. "You are amazing!" a squirrel praised, "How do you do it?" Ostara, knowing his colourful egg laying ability was made possible because of her powers, thought maybe now she'll get the credit and praise she was deserved. But the Hare stood high and mighty as he answered "I just imagine the colours, then I hop and pop! Nothing to it."

Ostara was furious. How dare he not only take all the attention of spring away from her, but also take all the credit for a gift she gave. Add to that, he had not shared with her the more beautiful eggs he could now make. Ostara made her outrage known as she reveled herself and berated the Hare. She told him to gather every egg he had made. She was going to take him and every egg he made away, forever.

The Hare begged Ostara not to make him take all of his eggs back. The eggs brought so much joy to everyone who received them. To take them away would take away their happiness. Ostara agreed that the eggs could stay, but he would need to come with her when she leaves at the end of spring.

And so the Hare left with her. Ostara promised she'd be back again next year. And at the end of every winter, she indeed makes her return to bring spring. During this time, she allows the Hare to return for a single day. For one day, he is allowed to share his bright and colourful eggs that are known to bring so much happiness. Sometimes they are in plain sight, and sometimes they are hidden. Can you find one?

[theperplexedpoet]

everyone has a story

everyone has a story their own rhythms and rhyme my own began at midnight a tale as old as time was frozen in this moment the time of my rebirth the shadow kind of owns it establishes my worth so I offer my fealty paying these crimson dues he promises to heal me with no intention to as such I keep returning bleeding to make it right no lessons am I learning in this age of midnight everyone has a story their own rhythms and rhyme my own began at midnight a tale retold through time was frozen in the second that the shadow was cast for midnight had been beckoned gained entry through my past and I served at his altar paying these crimson dues was always gonna falter that's what weak people do and yet I kept returning bleeding for a release heart sharing the pen's yearning and sharing his beliefs everyone has a story their own rhythms and rhyme my own began at midnight a tale as old as time was frozen in this moment the time of my rebirth the shadow kind of owns it establishes my worth (7/2/24)

[sasorikigai]

((Honestly I don't feel capable of properly critiquing a story when there's clearly so much untold as of now...but that in itself is also my own primary complaint. At the end of it all, the story movement felt like introduction, little else, and "that's all for these most basic building blocks of the beginning of our characters' stories; tune in next game, or DLC, or whatever, when we actually start to tell said stories!" Just setup and sequel-hooking. Nothing wrong with an origin story, mind, but I think there wasn't quite enough actual story movement therein, at least imo. I'm no expert in story analysis nor in Mortal Kombat.))

Random Inbox Shenanigans || anonymous || always accepting!

The same, but all I know is that I am extremely biased as a die-hard Scorpion/Hanzo Hasashi and Sub-Zero/Kuai Liang fan, but I definitely concur on the part that NRS seems to go on the path of shallow what-ifs on different timelines, rather than expanding the exquisite substance and depth of the character history and complexity by delving them further. In that regard, I am a huge fan of the whole MK9/MKX/MK11 saga, which gave us just that; those series of games become ones that span in a mostly continuous motion forward, along with character development and chemistry.

We definitely saw Scorpion/Hanzo transform from a vicious raging specter dead-set on revenge and vengeance to a sagacious and compassionate Grandmaster, who ended up (unknowingly) sacrificing himself for the greater good. And I have always loved Sub-Zero/Kuai Liang's personality, and his dualism; deadly and merciless in kombat, while being very kind, empathetic, and traumatized. He's the epitome of a loyal, dedicated fighter who will go ends for his people, not only of Lin Kuei, but of Earthrealm as long as they're on his side. The stories in those games were cohesive, and not only in Scorpion/Sub-Zero's perspective, but we saw all other characters develop as a character in a remarkably good way, or become wicked and immoral, wanting nothing but dominance and supremacy. They were painfully and relatably human. Even Raiden, the demi-god Protector of Earthrealm wasn't free from the grasp of going 'dark.'

Even other media could be said as such; animations such as Scorpion's Revenge, Battle of Realms expand on many 'origin' stories and the original tournament. Also, the recent reboot of Mortal Kombat Movie starring Hiroyuki Sanada as Scorpion (Hanzo Hasashi) and Joe Taslim as Sub-Zero (Bi-Han) is essentially retelling the tragic death of Hanzo and his rebirth as Scorpion. At this point I would just like to know why there is nothing of Hanzo Hasashi for the rebooted timeline in Mortal Kombat 1, just deleting him from existence and robbing him of the unique history which was given to him all along to one other than Kuai Liang, who already has his own remarkable story of growth from Tundra to Sub-Zero.

All in all, the story in Mortal Kombat seem to severely lack the semblance of depth, which was aplenty in the previous games. And I am getting really tired of getting 'origin' stories retold repeatedly through different media; it is time that we get more complexity through less messing of the storylines and timelines, but with more character development, but it is what it is at this point and I can't do nothing, but hope for the better story mode in the future games.

[thechrist02]

The Christ: Unveiling the Historical and Spiritual Significance

The name “Christ” carries an aura of divinity and significance that spans across civilizations and centuries. Whether approached from a religious, historical, or spiritual standpoint, The Christ stands as an archetype of hope, love, and transformation. This article seeks to shed light on the essence of The Christ, exploring the amalgamation of historical context, spiritual teachings, and cultural impact that defines this profound figure.

To comprehend The Christ, we must journey back to the ancient lands of Judea, during a time of political turmoil and spiritual longing. Born in Bethlehem, The Christ, also known as Jesus of Nazareth, emerged within the context of Roman rule and Jewish tradition. His birth, life, and crucifixion occurred in a landscape fraught with social inequities and religious fervor.

The Spiritual Teachings of The Christ

At the heart of The Christ’s narrative lies a tapestry of parables, sermons, and teachings that continue to illuminate minds and hearts. Central to his message was the concept of love, compassion, and forgiveness. Through profound teachings like the Sermon on the Mount, The Christ urged his followers to embrace humility, seek spiritual riches, and extend unconditional love to all.

The Christ’s Role in Christianity

The Christ’s influence reverberates most powerfully within Christianity, where he is venerated as the central figure. His sacrificial crucifixion and subsequent resurrection form the cornerstone of Christian belief, symbolizing redemption and the promise of eternal life. Churches, cathedrals, and religious art pay homage to his divinity and teachings.

Interestingly, the resonance of The Christ extends beyond Christianity. In Islam, Jesus (Isa) is considered a prophet, embodying qualities of purity and divine revelation. Moreover, various Eastern philosophies recognize his wisdom and universal compassion, seamlessly weaving The Christ’s essence into their spiritual tapestries.

The Influence of The Christ on Art and Culture

Throughout history, artists, writers, and musicians have been inspired by The Christ’s narrative. From Michelangelo’s masterpieces to Bach’s compositions, the figure of The Christ has served as a muse, evoking emotions and stirring creativity. His story has been retold in literature, theater, and film, transcending religious boundaries.

The Christ’s Enduring Legacy

The legacy of The Christ endures through the ages, a testament to the timelessness of his teachings. The concept of selflessness, epitomized by his life, has spurred countless acts of charity and humanitarianism. His message of unity and love continues to bridge divides and ignite movements for justice and equality.

The Christ: A Source of Controversy and Debate

As with any historical and religious figure, The Christ is not without controversy. Scholars engage in debates over the accuracy of historical accounts, seeking to uncover the authentic Christ beyond centuries of interpretation. These discussions contribute to a deeper understanding of his impact.

The Quest for the Historical Christ

The search for the historical Christ is an ongoing endeavor, as researchers meticulously piece together fragments of the past to reconstruct a comprehensive portrait. This quest involves the analysis of ancient texts, archaeological discoveries, and contextual studies, all in pursuit of an unfiltered glimpse into The Christ’s life.

Symbolism weaves a rich tapestry around The Christ’s narrative. The metaphor of resurrection, for instance, encapsulates the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. Similarly, the act of turning water into wine symbolizes transformation and the potential for divine intervention in the mundane.

The Christ in Modern Times

In an era marked by rapid technological advancement, The Christ’s teachings remain as relevant as ever. The quest for meaning, compassion, and connection finds solace in his timeless wisdom. As society grapples with challenges, his message serves as a guiding light, offering solace and inspiration.

Uniting Humanity: The Christ’s Message of Love and Compassion

One of The Christ’s enduring legacies is his message of love transcending boundaries. In a world often divided by differences, his call to love one another fosters unity. The Christ’s life underscores the profound impact of compassion and empathy on the human experience.

The Christ’s Miracles and Parables

The Christ’s ministry was punctuated by miracles that defied the laws of nature and parables that conveyed profound truths. The healing of the sick, feeding of the multitude, and calming of storms spoke to his divine authority. Parables like the Good Samaritan illuminated the path to a virtuous life.

The Christ’s Resurrection and Ascension

Central to Christian faith is The Christ’s resurrection, symbolizing victory over death. The empty tomb embodies hope and the promise of eternal life. The ascension, too, signifies his return to the divine realm, leaving behind a legacy that continues to shape humanity’s spiritual journey.

The Christ stands as a bridge between the earthly and the divine, a figure whose life and teachings radiate with timeless brilliance. Through the annals of history, his message of love, compassion, and transformation echoes across cultures and creeds. As humanity treads the path of progress, The Christ’s legacy remains an unwavering source of guidance, inviting all to embrace the profound potential within.

Visit Here: https://www.the-christ.net/

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https://www.instagram.com/livingchurchministries/https://www.tiktok.com/@livingchurchministries

[elephile]

The winter air is cold and gray As the world around us fades away The snow is falling, a blanket white A shroud for the earth, a final night The trees are bare, their branches stark A final dance, before the dark The wind is howling, a mournful song For the loss of life, and what's done wrong The river's frozen, a crystal vale A pathway to the eternal pale The world is silent, and still as death A reflection of our final breath But in the darkness, a glimmer shines A spark of hope, in the darkest lines For life endures, through winter's cold And death is but, a tale retold So as the snow falls, and the night descends Remember that, life still extends And in the end, there is rebirth In the cycle of life, on this earth. #womanlifefreedom #stopexecutionsiniran #winterwonderland #wintersinontario (at Toronto, Ontario) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnV9Pa_LR0Q/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[notsodailycake]

Welcome to the Gregaverse!

The official Sign up paper! With all the rules, its not much so don't worry to much lol

You can do whatever

If u don't want ppl using your Gregory just tell me and i will remove u, but if you wanna be part of this, dm me and I'll add you! (I'll be tagging you with the name of your au so just tell me the name so i can add it)

This is all just silly fun, if u like one of the Gregorys mentioned you can write/draw whatever u want with them and your Gregory, as long as it doesn't go against the creators boundaries

And by the end of it, just tag under the Gregaverse and all that

This is basically just a crossover au but like, all at once XD

Current Members (42):

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Please consider checking them out and showing sum support!

[xxwitchylanexx]

Miner Encounter-CloudxReader

Does contain some dialog straight from the cut scenes in the Mythril Mine.

Rebirth Retold Chapter 3

PS Used the og name for the Midgar Zolom

Chapter 4

Masterlist

*~*

You were aware this journey would be full of danger and trials, after all Gaia was filled with sketchy people, dangerous fiends, and a complex history. However, you never anticipated it would get this rough this quickly, and even more shocking was the Midgar Zolom. You’ve outrun it on choco back, anticipated its hunting grounds and have avoided it altogether, and sometimes you’ve had to wait it out and delay your return because it was hot on your trail. You’ve traveled between the Woodlands and the Junon area over a hundred times, but it has never been so cunning. Almost as if someone, or something, instructed it to coil around itself to form a perfect duplicate of the soggy marshy floor. Thankfully you were smart enough to take all your equipment off of Goldie, your chocobo companion, beforehand since you were planning to send them all back to the ranch anyway.

You’d thought the group successfully fought it off too. You let your guard down, everyone did, even Cloud. So when the serpent came slithering back faster than ever and sprung across the distance you really thought its venomous fangs would swallow Cloud whole. You like to think that screaming out his name gave him enough notice to dodge, but even then it still managed to scoop in him with its tail and curl its’ thick scaley body around Cloud’s frame and squeezed tight making sure he couldn’t move before fleeing into the dark murky depths to whatever enclosure it calls a nest to devour its’ breakfast.

The water soon began to spiral into a vortex, your heart beating miles per minute as you waited for the cocky jerk to emerge victorious, until the scaly snake shot out of the water instead, soaring high into the air until it caught and skewered on a unnaturally sharp top of a dying tree, the tip piercing through its throat. You watched with bated breath as the water settled. Surely he’d return to the surface now that he’d slain it. Except he didn’t, and you found yourself sprinting toward the now still water, not wasting another second as you dove into the putrid water.

Far beneath the surface Cloud floated lifelessly. Small bubbles, that may have been his last breath, floated upwards towards the surface while his body slowly sank farther and farther into the abyss. He’s drowning. You realized. Your arms burned as you stroked through the water in a desperate frenzy to reach him in time.

When you did, you immediately slung one of his arms across your shoulders so you could secure an arm around his middle. You kicked your legs and began to swim towards the surface. There was an ominous cloud above your head. The particles twisted and spread as it slowly began to disperse though you knew it wouldn’t be gone by the time you reached it. As the tips of your fingers met the concerning substance a deep unsettling darkness tried to squeeze the air from your lungs. Your limbs felt cold and stiff and your body no longer wanted to keep fighting towards the surface. Just as your hand broke the surface a sinister chuckle echoed inside your head and with another burning kick of your legs your head surged above the water, inhaling huge gulps of the polluted air.

You drug his defunct body over to the rocky entrance of the mines, the others rushing to your side as you pinched his nose and lowered your lips to his and breathed air into his lungs. You could hear Tifa gasp sharply in surprise behind you, but paid it no mind as you rose and started compressions on his chest. Only after a few pushes his body surged forward and began coughing, dark water spilling past his plush lips, before falling back against the surface. You paused and glued your eyes to his chest to watch the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest before you were sure he was out of the woods.

The others now crowded into your space around him so you stood and walked to the edges of the sturdy earth. You said you were looking for the chocobos, and sure they were one of your main concerns, but the real reason was to steady your frantic heart. Your fingertips coming to brush the soft skin of your lips where they’d met his. It wasn’t a kiss. You knew that, but the feeling of him against you was almost thrilling, if not for the dire circumstances.

It was some time before he awoke, and thank the gods the others agreed to keep his rescue a secret. You weren’t sure you could handle his reaction at the moment.

You’d think that’d be the end of the near death experiences for the day, but no. It just seemed to be your lucky day. While following the robes into the depths of the mines your small group had an unfortunate encounter with the Turks, which resulted in being blasted over the side of a fifty foot cliff. So here you were falling farther and farther into the chasm your mind flashes through your decisions that had gotten you this far.

You’d be the first to admit that your reaction time isn’t what it used to be. Once cat like reflexes dulled into an average fighters. You made a mental note to retrain your body if you survived the rest of this day. You missed Aerith’s hand that she extended over the cliff you’d just fell past and hurdled faster and faster towards the bottom. Five feet, then ten, and so on. You needed a plan before you were flattened like roadkill for the team to scrape off the rocks later.

You pinched at the bit of fat above your hip painfully to break the trance you were in then twisted your arm behind your back to the sheath that hung along the pack strapped to your hips. Your fingertips fumbled on the wooden hilt briefly before your hand firmly wrapped around it. Just as you began to pull the blade from its scabbard free your arm was yanked upwards, causing your hand to slip from the hilt, and your entire body was encircled into a tight embrace. The musk that had been haunting you since the Wildflower Plateau invaded your nostrils and filled you with a glowing warmth despite the adrenaline pumping through your veins at your impending crash. The muscle in your chest hammering against its bone cage so hard you feared the ex-soldier could feel it himself.

A chill ran down your spine as Cloud’s quiet but firm voice tickled the shell of your ear. “Hold tight.” The hand that was trapped between your bodies fisted in the fabric of his shirt the other wrapped tightly around his neck, brushing against the soft spikes of hair on his nape. Once he was positive he were safe in his hold he moved one arm from your waist and reached back for his sword. He plunged the blade into a convenient crack in the cliff side the metal screeching against the rock as your momentum drug the sword through the stone. The sound pierced your ear drums and drove your face subconsciously into the crook of Cloud’s neck. Your breath caught in your throat when he pressed you in tighter to muffle the one ear into his shoulder and then adjusted his hold on you to cover the ear with the palm of his hand. Your arm at his waist circling around him to keep yourself close in your descent.

The two of you were falling too fast for his sword to halt your descent, but it did slow you down enough to prevent serious harm. Before you hit the ground he must have let go of his sword in favor of wrapping his other arm around your shoulders and braced the two of you for impact. The harsh landing forced the wind out of you, and a gruff grunt breathed into your ear. You eyelids fluttered open before blinking a few times to orientate yourself. Your eyes sweeping over the faint freckles at the junction of his neck before hesitantly peering up at his face. His brows squeezed together and his jaw set in stone. His eyes closed so tight that his long lashes kissed the apples of his cheeks as a rough exhale puffed against your cheek. The minuscule scrunch of his nose, and an almost inaudible hiss confirmed your suspicions that the fall hurt much more than he was letting on. You wiggled yourself free from his tight embrace and carefully rolled off him onto the gravel path next to his body.

“You alright?” he asked as one of his gorgeous eyes cracked open to search you for injuries.

“I should be asking you that.” You said as you pushed yourself to your feet then brushed the stray pieces of shaved rock from your hair. “Thanks for breaking my fall.” You reached behind you and flicked the latch keeping your pack closed. You ruffled through it until you found the specific potion you were looking for. You cleared your throat before holding it out for him to take. “Here. It’ll take the edge off.”

He scoffed while brushing off any help you offered as he rose to his feet, “I’m fine. I was-”

“A soldier,” you said in unison his typical scowl deepening, “doesn’t mean that you’re not human. Just take it.” You stared him down in a battle of wills, his mako eyes against you e/c ones. He cocked his hip to the side and crossed his arms over his chest as if to say deal with it. You mirrored his movements except you kept the potion extended to him and your other hand perched on your hip. He may be stubborn, but so were you. “I’m not moving ‘till you drink it so…”

He huffed prior to snatching the container out of your hand and downed it as fast as possible, and shoving the empty vial back into your awaiting hand. “Happy?” He asked, though it was clear he didn’t care what the answer would be. He just gave you the figurative cold shoulder and stalked down the looming cave ahead of you.

“Absolutely giddy.” You snarked under your breath before following him down into the winding cavern halls.

*~*

Cloud could acknowledge that he judged your abilities too early. He had assumed, given your profession, that you’d have to be protected, like Aerith did at first, but you didn’t seem to have any trouble holding your own. Hell, you could practically keep up with him, not that you’d ever hear that kind of praise from him. Have you had that sword the entire time? He’d spent so much time sneaking glances at you one would think he’d notice it.

He swung Hard Edge up just in time to block the ogre’s attack, a loud clang echoed through the rocky passageway. He needed to focus on the task in front of him, before he put the both of you in danger. He flexed his arm and prepared to swing upwards, however the beast staggered forward before falling onto his feet. He kicked the carcass of his boots then dragged his eyes from the fiends flesh and up to your smiling face. He blinked slowly, soaking in your disheveled appearance. He always thought you were pretty, but something about your lopsided grin, shining eyes, and soft glowing skin despite the splatter of blood sprayed across half your face had his brain short circuiting, and palm slipping against the hilt. “What’s wrong, soldier boy? Tired?”

His brows furrowed in annoyance. Why did you always have something witty to say? “Worry about yourself.” He swung Hardedge to the magnetic sword belt on his shoulders. He should’ve kept walking, but the curiosity bouncing inside his thoughts burned to heavily on his tongue. “Where’d you learn to fight?”

For a quick moment your radiant smile faltered leaving him missing the warmth he basked in before you perked like it never happened. “Self taught. Impressed?”

He studied your expression for another moment or two before returning to the never ending footpaths of rock. There’s definitely more to your story than just some skilled chocobo trainer. He doubted you’d just come right out and tell even if he did ask. “If we follow this path we should be able to meet up with Tifa and Aerith.”

You hummed in response. “Alright. I’m expecting a review when we’re done though.” You jogged in front of him to shoot him a wink then broke out into a sprint down the corridor.

“Don’t count on it.” He called out to you. He let the gap between you stay wide as he followed the sound of your boots slap against the gravel. You didn’t try to make any conversation with him which made him both relieved and disappointed. The only time one of you addressed the other was when you’d run into the occasional fiend. Crawlers, flans, or orcs didn't matter. He took care of them quickly and he didn’t miss how your eyes would follow his every movement. Well, when you weren’t taking out any of the ones that crossed your path.

The more he seen you in action the greater his curiosity grew. Just what was your story? All he really knew was that you were a traveling chocobo trainer. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for you to have some skills since you said you travel on you own but the way you weaved between fiends and struck weak points suggested you had a lot of experience. The number of corpses you left in your wake implied expertise. Not to mention the potion you gave him earlier was unlike any he’d had before, cool and soothing that sapped the pain from minor injuries. Did you make it?

The singular path the two of you followed slowly opened up into a circular cavern. The walls were smooth and high, and no obvious way to move forward. He strolled around the perimeter looking for anything that they could use to scale up the walls.

“What now?” You asked him.

“There’s a ladder over there.” He pointed to one of the walls, which was the only one with a vein of mythril running through it. At the top ladder was anchored into the stone only it was folded up and out of their reach. They both stepped up to the looming wall, your shoulder lightly bumping his as you angled you head upwards to look at the challenge before you. He looked down to where your arm touched his feeling a wave of heat pool in his gut. He never noticed that your shirt was sleeveless like his own. He quickly turned his head to the side so you couldn’t see the blush that quickly pooled onto his pale cheeks as he reveled in the feeling of your bare skin against his own.

“Too tall to reach.” You said causing him to flinch. You side eyed him before tapping a foot against the dirt. “You can toss me at it.” He snorted, the idea seeming absurd in his head.

“Not happening.” He stumbled a half step back masking it as being annoyed with you as you swiveled your entire body to look him in the eye.

“Well then, what do you expect us to do?” You got into his space again and he struggled to make a coherent sentence the warmth radiating from your body spreading into his causing the heat in his gut to travel lower.

“I-”

“Yooou-hooooo!” Both if your heads snapped upwards to see Aerith, cheery and smiling as always, on her hands and knees looking down at you two. He used this as a perfect excuse to put some much needed distance between you. “You guys need a hand?”

“Perfect timing!” You called up to her a wide grin spreading across your face. Aerith fiddled with the mechanism on the ladder for a moment before the rusty metal slid down in front of him.

Tifa peered over Aerith’s shoulder. “Thank Gaia, you guys are okay!”

You stare bore into his own, and at first he wasn’t sure what you were doing until you waved at the ladder, signaling him to go first. He cocked a brow, like hell you were going after him. He backed up until the area was wide enough for you to climb and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t going to budge this time. You huffed and rolled your eyes, but ultimately gave in in favor of escaping his company.

That’s when he wished he had gone first. Did Cloud intend to get a clear sight of how plush and round your ass was in your snug cargo shorts? Absolutely not. Did he briefly wonder how soft you’d feel against his hands? Wonder what kind of sound would you make if he squeezed you? Or how you’d feel if he pulled you flush against his hips to grind into you?Regretfully, yes. All the blood from his head joined the molten heat that had gathered in his gut and shot down to throb painfully between his legs. He can’t remember a time he’s ever been this hard.

He mentally chastised himself for the momentary lapse in weakness, and quickly glued his eyes on the rungs beneath his feet. He summoned the least appealing mental image, to his horror it was Barret dressed in the Honey Bee Inn uniform, to the forefront of his mind and hoped o all things holy the obvious tent in his pants would calm along with the scorching blush on his face before he reached the top. What the hell was wrong with him?

Relief flooded throughout his core when he saw you and Tifa already moved ahead as he reached top; however his relief was instantly replaced with embarrassment when he saw the way Aerith was looking at him. Her face cracked with a cheeky grin and twinkling eyes. “So, did you have fun?”

*~*

“Well, now what?” Tifa asked with a hand planted firmly on her hip as the four of you stumbled upon a dead end. The edges of the path crumbled into the never ending darkness as you cautiously peered over the side into the canyon. The void was much to thick to make out anything helpful beyond the faint flicker of a singular torch in the level below you.

You scouted out the remaining jagged walls, an occasional glowing vein of cerulean mythril spiraled towards the other side, looking for anything that might get your group across safely. A few hundred feet below you saw an old rickety bridge that swayed eerily in place. Once used to connect the path in the past to take the miners to the level they needed to be, however now it was long forgotten, stuck in place and weighed down by old bags of sand. “There’s a bridge down there.” You nudged your arm against Tifa before directing her attention to the abandoned bridge. “See anyway to raise it?” You asked.

“There! That could do it!” You pivoted to where Aerith had called from near the mouth of the corridor you’d just passed through. “No way to reach it from here though.” She threw her arms at her hips in frustration, her usual perky demeanor being worn down with every trial this maze keeps presenting you, then trudged closer to Cloud at his spot in the middle. His arms were crossed over his chest and frown set deeper than usual.

“Well now! Look who it is!” Barret yelled from across the abyss, easily half a mile across the shaft. The light from the torch shuddered as if his decibel frightened it, the diminishing flames casting his hulking frame in wavering shadows. Just when you didn’t think he could look any more ominous Red comes pacing out of the darkness and settled at his gigantic boots.

Aerith skipped eagerly up to the edge waving her arms frantically over her head to catch his attention. “Hey guys! Over here!”

Barret waved a meaty hand back, clearly relieved to see your group in one piece. “Y’all taking a breather, or what?!” His deep baritone, one very reminiscent of an employee you'd find down here, was amplified by the smooth curve of the stone that confined you. You were starting to believe that you're prolonged exposure to the man would have a permanent effect on your ear drums.

You tuned out the chatter of Tifa and Aerith explaining the situation, your ears still ringing faintly and your attention wandering back to the stoic merc. Ever since you climbed the ladder and joined the two girls he acted colder than usual. At first maybe you thought you pushed him to far with your playful teasing and your quick wit, but his eyes seemed darker, harsher than before, as they dragged across your body so brazenly. As if he didn’t care if you knew he was looking at you.

“Do you think you can give us a hand?!” You jumped a little at Cloud’s sudden increase in decibel only now noticing he was standing closer to you than before.

Your blinked back into focused and trained your eyes on Red licking at his paw, his tail flicking in annoyance as Barret paced back in forth behind him.

“For two grand!” Barret answered with a wide shit eating grin proudly gracing his face. He thrust two sizable digits upwards in a mocking show, the grin on his face sliding into a smug smirk like he knew he was going to infuriate the blonde man beside you. “Two!”

You bit your bottom lip to stop the smile that wanted to form as the other girls burst in laughter. You obviously weren't with them in Midgar so you hadn't had the honor of hiring the merc though you heard his fees were hefty so you didn't really understand the joke at the entrance. Now you could appreciate the way the joke made Cloud’s nostrils flare as he huffed like a child and muttered under his breath. “Hilarious.”

You exhaled the laughter you held back through your nose at his reaction. You could only imagine the grief his mother had to endure raising such a hard headed child. were no longer able to fight the grin that threatened your composure. The smile you tried so hard to contain slowly formed across your face as you leaned closer to tease him. “You did start it, you know.” You spoke quietly to keep the jest between the two of you.

“Yeah, whatever.” He replied as turned his back to you, as if that would stop you from mocking him. A breathy laugh escape you as a feeling of relief settler over you, the energy between the two of you feeling a bit more normal.

“So, now we wait?” Aerith asked, your eyes meeting her watchful gaze. Suddenly you felt like a kid all over again with observant eyes on you at all times. You missed the privacy you had when you traveled on your own.

“Seems so.” Tifa answered, oblivious to what happening.

You stretched your arms over your head to ease the ache in your shoulder blades completely missing the way Cloud’s eyes lingered on your slightly exposed midriff. You sighed heavily, arms dropping to your sides dramatically, before you waited in place for some time. Subconsciously you began to pace along the middle, equal distance from each edge, never straying to far from the blonde. You never liked stay in one place for too long. It always invites disaster.

“Quit it, would you?” Cloud barked over his shoulder after what must have been your fiftieth trip behind him.

You meandered to his side before you plopped your ass at the edge beside his feet and swung your legs over the side. You leaned your weight back onto your palms and you stared across the chasm to where your favorite marksman had disappeared. You channeled your energy into counting how many time the dying flame flickered to pass the time. “My bad. Nervous habit.” If you could call it that. Your past didn’t leave a lot of room for useless emotions such as anxiety. There was no use worrying about the way things could go when you needed to use that time to come up with ways to save yourself.

He eyed the back of your head and opened his mouth to say something before Aerith chimed in. “No reason to worry!” She clapped a hand over Cloud’s arm just as you looked up at them. “We have an excellent body guard!” She bent her knees to be level with you and cupped a hand to shield her lips from Cloud’s prying gaze, although she made sure she was loud enough that Cloud could hear her anyway. “Rumor is, he’ll do any job for a date.” She giggled mischievously like the moogles you'd wrangled in the Woodlands before Cloud scoffed and stalked far from the two of you his moodiness vibrating through the rock with each clunky step.

“I’d watch out, Aerith. You’re going to get yourself in trouble.” You laughed. “I’ve already put him in a shit mood.”

She looked back at the man in question, “Well someone has to keep him in line!” Her laughter felt like sunshine itself after being trapped on the bleakness of the caves mixed with Cloud’s harboring distaste for you. She sat down next to you, the warmth of her arm brushed against your bicep, before she flicked your forehead. “Don’t take it personally. He just doesn’t know what he’s feeling.”

Your eyebrows pinched as your head tilted to the side in a silent question. Your mouth opened and closed as you were unsure which question you wanted to ask. You sure as hell didn’t take it personally, you could be an absolute delight when you wanted to be, and honestly you had thought he was warming up to you at least a little bit, before whatever stick crawled back up his ass.

Though as fate would have it, the tell tale sound of the rusting mine carts screeching down the thin iron rails filled throughout the entire cavern. The four of you watched as Barret returned at long last pushed a heavy cart to the very edge where the tracks gave out then gave one last mighty heave. You watched with bated breath as the cart groaned in complaint before it began to creep towards the vast void below you. It quickly gained momentum, rolling over the side at a pace that rivaled Piko’s, and met the side of the crate like Odin’s thunder cracking against the trunk of a tree, the impact making the ground beneath you shudder in its quake. The crate changed and banged all the way until it knocked into the bridge, the bags of sand that kept it weighed down flying off every which way and free falling into the darkness. The bridge raised at a rapid rate until Tifa reached out and grasped the chains suspending it and anchored it into place.

Aerith clapped her hand and cheered. “We’re in business!”

“Thanks!” Tifa called out, her lips curled into a gentle smile and red eyes shining with hope.

You hopped to your feet and dusted the back of your legs before pushing past the group. While they chatted with Barret and Red you decided to go on ahead a little bit to scout out the area, besides you've had enough of the two grand joke and Barret tends to beat the horse well after its demise.

This path looked no different than the twenty other winding halls you've wandered through today, gravel spread over railroad that was embedded into the rich mineral ore, worn smooth walls from decades worth of friction, and dim firelight producing just enough light to guide you down the path. You couldn’t wait till you had better scenery again. You yearned for the upcoming moment when your eyes will see the gift of the suns rays, and the clear air that your lungs craved. Most of all, you missed Piko, though you knew that reunion wont take place for a long while. Who knew when you’d return to Bill’s ranch next. You sighed. Gaia, please let him be okay.

You blinked hard, a trick you've learned over the years to stop your train of thought, before you recited the facts you knew. 1.) He was tough, stubborn, and resourceful. 2.) He knows the area. You've captured that bird literally everywhere in the woodland area, swamp included. 3.) He protects his own. Piko most likely already led the pack back to the ranch and was being praised with treats and scratches under a heat lamp for a job well done.

“Hey!” The distinct annoyance of your other chocobo-like companion echoed around the corner you'd just rounded followed by quickened footsteps thudding against the ground. You halted when his palm gripped against the ball of your shoulder. “Don’t get so far ahead. It’s not safe to be on your own.” Your attention dipped to the minuet scrunch of the bridge of his nose as he scolded you.

A pang of irritation passed through you. You thought you'd made it blatantly obvious that you could hold your own today, and you'd opened your mouth to say just that when it occurred to you that the underlying concern was a tad endearing. “I can take care of myself, but sorry. Lost in thought.” A brow raised in question and his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unwavering as he tried to glare you into expanding on your issue. Maybe it was the fall that influenced your decision, but you decided to be a little forthcoming. “Just worried about Piko. I know he’ll make it back, but I just wish I could’ve said goodbye.”

He scratched at the back of his head, and shifted from one foot to the other, his mako pools meeting yours for a fleeting second before dropping his hands to his waist. “He’s…. smart. He’ll be alright.”

You smiled softly at his attempt to make you feel better. “You’re right. I’m sure he’s already back at the ranch giving Billy a run for his money.”

“Ten gil, Billy can’t get him back in.”

You laughed wholeheartedly. You didn’t think he had a funny bone in his body after today, and yet here he was, Cloud Strife, making a joke. You could see it so clearly in your head; Piko running wildly all around the outside fencing, Billy running frantically behind him yelling various threats. You clutched at your tightening diaphragm as you took some deep breaths. You wiped at your lashes to sweep away the few tears that beaded at your water line then beamed up at Cloud, fully intending to thank him, only to see that he was watching you. His face blank as always but the corner of his round eyes crinkled and a boy-like sparkle twinkled subtly like you were something special. Your chest warmed and heart felt like it dropped lower in your chest as a tingling sensation spread under your skin. You shied away, for once feeling a bit anxious under his scrutiny. The beat of your heart quickening with a rush you were unsure of.

More footsteps thundered around the corner and as you focused your attention on that you got a good look at the wide grin that split across Aerith’s face. Tifa leisurely strolled behind her, pulling her hands from her pockets as she fell into step besides Cloud. “Well, we settled the bill with Barret!” Aerith excitedly proclaimed.

You cleared your throat before engaging with her. “That’s great! How’d you do it?” You asked, not fully interested in what her response would be, your eyes quickly flicking over at Cloud then back to the brunette in front of you.

“Opened a door for him.” Aerith answered like it was this huge accomplishment, one hand perching on a slender hip and her head held proudly.

“Let’s go.” Cloud said, his gaze steeling into your own. You nodded in response and moved to lead on, hopefully to the exit.

Conversation flowed effortlessly between you and the girls. Mostly pointless stuff like what you should eat once you guys got out of here or Aerith’s excitement of seeing the ocean up close for the first time. You enjoyed the connection, adding in little comments like ‘You’ll love it. Especially the breeze off the water’ and ‘Anything you make will be good, Tifa.’. Cloud trailed behind as the ever watchful guardian, silent but without a doubt listening to everything.

Before you knew it, another hour or two passed before you finally found the path to lead you from the musty mines. The craggy walls narrowed to reveal an old smoothed down staircase, an exit sign posted above the archway. You hastily skipped up the steps two at a time before coming to a halt at the top. Warm salty air wafted in through the mouth that lead outside. Your heart raced with anticipation at the prospect that you’ll finally feel the natural sunlight again.

However, Barret and Red were still nowhere in sight so you settled yourself down and made yourself comfortable against some rocks close enough to the exit to catch the gentle murmur of the wind and crashing ocean outside.

You dug your fingers into the loose dirt on the ground as you stared blankly at the rocky scene in front of you. Exhaustion plagued your thoughts and your muscles began to burn uncomfortably from over use. As you stifled a yawn you caught a glimpse of lingering mako blue in your peripheral. You peered up at him through the strands of hair that fell loosely against your cheeks, before tucking a lock behind your ear as you gave him a small smile. He quickly turned away from you to busy himself on the other side of the room. You rolled your eyes and leaned back on your elbows to count the random veins of mythril that scattered through the ceiling. The journey between the Woodlands and the saucer was always long and strenuous, however you were starting to think that if it kept up at this rate, this was going to be your hardest journey yet.

[poisonousquinzel]

I was skimming the newly released DC comic issues for any & all Harley bits and

is

is that

The Joker (2021-) #15 | Batman: Harley Quinn (1999)

that's a panel from her second retold origin comic?? The one that takes place in the No Man's Land arc. Like right dab in the middle of it. (I've actually got a post I started writing about that arc - like 3 others just last night so I won't rant abt it here skdjsks)

Like the one where Ivy meets her in this condition rather than in the midst of a heist

I'm curious if we're suppose to assume that all the events that happened in terms of their relationship (her and clown boy), aside from the Major DC Over Arching Plot Points that involve other characters, did in fact happen.

Because this is now the second panel directly referenced from one of her Origin comics that's been shown in the Rebirth timeline.

And again, I do view Harley's arc as one full arc with tweaks and alternations here and there as times have progressed, but that's just been a personal Dealing With Being In A Comic Fandom & Reading Comics Preference skdjsks

But this is making me ?!?!?

Cause like, obviously down to the Origin itself, there's three different ones between these (Mad Love, Batman: Harley Quinn, Rebirth Timeline), but the Rebirth Timeline has referenced events, specifically moments with Joker, his manipulation and abuse, from both those previous "discarded" origins.

In her Amanda Conner and Jimmy Palmiotti ongoing run, they have panels that are unmistakable ringers for the confrontation at the end of the Mad Love comic when he knocks her out of the window. Down to the prop fish he uses. They wouldn't have added that if it wasn't supposed to be referencing that one specific thing. It's too on the nose for it.

And now this one.

These are moments that don't make sense without the context and build up of the rest of the comic, or at least the rest of the context in terms of their relationship in said comic.

Long winded way to say that I now fully believe that not only is the Mad Love ending canon to the Rebirth timeline, but that at some point during their relationship the Rocket Incident also occurred.

That these moments, those Big Traumatic Events, were scooped out root and stem and maybe they're not exactly where they were timeline wise, and maybe some parts here and there are (& will be altered), they still happened.

He still did that stuff to her.

Classic Harley existed for a long while in that universe before the Rebirth Timeline called to action and they're giving us glimpses and conformations of events from lost unseen years.

[bitimdrake]

I have a Titans lore question! I like “first meeting” stories so I’m trying to track down where Dick first met each of his friends. I know there's the Golden Age Hatton Corners Teen Club and NTT's Raven-summons-everybody, but... do you happen to know if there are any other "first meeting" retellings for Dick and Wally / Donna / Roy / et al? <3

(Just post-Crisis here, because the new 52 is pointless for these friends, and I have yet to read anything from Rebirth.)

Unfortunately, I don’t have all that much much to offer you here. The early appearances of these guys in the silver age weren’t really concerned with lingering on characters meeting each other, and there aren’t many retellings I know of beyond Teen Titans: Year One. These meetings also tend to be handled in a group/team format, rather than anything one-on-one.

Dick, Wally, and Garth always already know each other by the time they team up. Disclaimer that I haven’t read much Flash- or Aqua-fam stuff, so maybe there’s something buried in there--but I can’t recall anything about their first meetings in Titans or Nightwing issues. What more modern issues with flashbacks I could find never go back that far.

Sometimes Roy meets them for the first time during the second team up, and sometimes he already knows them, with a similar lack of explanation.

Donna meets the boys for the first time during that second team up. The introductions are always quick.

Gar (and some others who have largely faded out of popular memory, like Mal and Karen) meet the rest of the team during the original Teen Titans run.

Vic, Kory, and Raven, of course, meet and slowly grow closer to the others during the New Teen Titans run.

In more detail below the cut! This isn’t really that long, but the screenshots pad it out.

The Brave and the Bold vol 1 #54 (from 1964) has that story with Hatton Corners Teen Club/Mr. Twister fight you mentioned, with the first team-up of Dick, Wally, and Garth. The trio address each other like they've already met, and this is a silver age story, so we are more concerned with getting down to the crime fighting!

[Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad greet each other with familiarity.]

The second team up, and the first official Teen Titans team up, was retroactively revealed in Teen Titans vol 1 #53 (from 1978). When all their mentors get brainwashed into evil, the trio above plus Roy and Donna come together. It’s unclear to me if they already know Roy (though they’ve definitely heard of him), but this is the first time any of the boys have ever seen Donna.

[As Robin and Aqualad talk, Kid Flash runs up carrying Speedy. Garth: “Kid Flash...and Speedy?!?” Roy: “That’s the name! Hiya, heroes! [...]” Wally: “I met Speedy on the way here...”]

[Donna flies down, to visible shock. Garth: “Suffering swordfish! Who are you?” Donna: “Call me Wonder Girl!” The others are surprised to hear she’s Wonder Woman’s sister.]

This is really all the introduction there is. There’s no time! We have to go fight crime!!

This brainwashed mentors story is retold in Secret Origins Annual #3 (from 1989), where Dick has an extended dream/memory sequence about the Titans. (I will note that his memories are being warped in places during this dream sequence, but I don't think any of the parts we're interested in here are effected by that.) In this version, it is the first time they meet Roy, and he and Donna get very quick introductions

[Dick narrates that this was the first time they met Donna. On panel, Donna greets the original trio, and introduces herself: “You can call me Wonder Girl.”]

[Roy arrives to meet the others, introducing himself as “Speedy, Green Arrow’s partner,” before getting down to business.]

This story is retold again in Teen Titans: Year One #1-3 (from 2008). The Mr. Twister fight is explicitly referenced, the original trio know each other--and Dick and Wally are already good friends. In this version, they also already know Roy. But it’s still the first time they meet Donna, who is new to man’s world.

[The four boys have various expressions of shock and awe as Donna flies down, saying, “Hi, I’m Wonder Girl.”]

We're in the modern age now, so there is more focus on interpersonal dynamics here as the team gets to know each other. Buuut I would also say that this miniseries' versions of Donna and Garth in particular take some liberties with their characterizations, to lean into them being young and new kids, so grain of salt.

That’s about all I got for the Fab Five.

Gar meets the team in Teen Titans vol 1 #6 (from 1966). He was with the Doom Patrol at this point. If the Titans had heard of him before, it wasn’t much; they aren’t even aware of his powers yet. Gar wants to join, but the team requires permission from a parent or guardian (ah, silver age) which he can’t provide. Again, not a lot of one-on-ones, very dated.

When it comes to Kory, Vic, and Raven, technically Dick first sees them in DC Comics Presents vol 1 #26 (from 1980), a preview for NTT, where Raven gives him a psychic vision to a time when he already is on the team. They already know Robin, while Dick is baffled as to who half of these people are.

The real first meetings, of course, come in New Teen Titans #1 (1980). Raven slowly introduces herself to Dick in visions and dreams, before asking him in person to reassemble the team.

[Raven appears in Dick’s room after he wakes from a nightmare. He identifies her as the girl in his dreams, and she says she’s a friend and seeks his aid.]

She also summons Gar and Wally and has them all meet up with Donna. Then Raven goes to invite Vic to be with others like him, and the rest of the team first meets him.

[The others arrive just after Vic and Raven speak. Robin starts to introduce himself, before Vic interrupts that he reads the papers. Gar and Vic do not initially get along.]

The immediately head off to fight an alien invasion and save the final member of the team, Kory--though it’s not until the second issue that she kisses Dick, learns English, and really starts to introduce herself to the team.

NTT was interested in interpersonal dynamics, so while I don’t really know of any more modern retellings (besides the accurate recap in Secret Origins) the whole series does already have the arcs of them all getting to know each other and growing closer into a team.

[astrolocherry]

Scorpio - Forbidden Apple Fatale

  "....She is a woman that is born with centuries in her eyes. Full of trouble and filled of sacred light. Potent ingredients of Mars and Pluto mix in her like a cauldron of indigo storms. She constantly enters the silence, and she can vividly imagine physical death. On the 18th path of the tree of life is the snake, symbolised through the sign of Scorpio. Jung says that the snake expresses the conflict between intuition and the conscious mind, and the great motion of nature. Her physical body that rests here is not hers, and she knows this..."

Scorpio is the sign of death and endings. In light of this quality, it is also a sign of life, rebirth, the second birth, the second coming. The soul light can only be seen in the darkest of nights, alone and abandoned. Scorpio knows that if one is to truly ascend then one must deeply descend.  At its core, transformation and regeneration is creation. Scorpio is The Intelligent Host of Creative Force active in every live mineral. The sign rules over the reproductive organs and guards over the practice of The Maithuna that awaken the ingenious and magical Kundalini serpent within. In this respect, Scorpio protects the sacredness of sex. This commonly manifests through involvement in sexual justice, law and criminal proceedings, and battles for liberation. Scorpios shield against violation and abuses of this kind, the venom injected by their sting is capable of fatally wounding the depraved beings who do, or intend to defile the purity of this intimate practice. Scorpio dwells in this etheric realm of the fiery divine sexual force. This is the same force residing in the angelic cherubins enclosing Eden. Scorpio is the battleground between white magick and black magick. The good and evil inside Scorpio go into war, one is promising everything and one is promising nothing, and like a sleight of hand both can trade places. Scorpio is watery intuitive and Pluto psychic, everything within these people operates at hidden and subliminal levels. During childhood, the goodness of the world revealed itself in light of the bad. Adults tore off the masks of angels to reveal monsters, survival instinct was shaped, primed and prepared for the oncoming brutality. It conditioned a consequence for every action, it made every footstep they would take strategic and strikingly calculative, and no risk posed a greater threat than doing nothing at all. To loved ones this may have appeared as being lost or confused, but the Scorpio never wanted to be found. There was always a sense of direction - even if the compass spun from an unknown ocean. It glides and crosses up and around the spine like a psychic serpent, the air can feel thick crackling against their fingertips.Scorpio is the dark angel, the serpent who seduced Eve to taste the apple and thus “your eyes will be open and you will be like God, knowing good and evil“. The apple is forever outstretched in the right eye of Scorpio, the apple of ego loss through orgasm, reflecting and re-radiating the universal auric sparkle. The preceding sign is Libra on the descendant, so every shadow has been exposed upon entering Scorpio. The serpent has been relegated to a base and decrepit symbol of all that is pain and evil in modern theology. We can observe a similar designation applied to the astrological sign of Scorpio that is frequently slandered, denigrated, and associated with the activation of these lower and inaccurately retold serpentine traits, “(you will) become like God, knowing” the serpent told, beholding the wisdom within the Tree of Knowledge in its ascended state, and “knowing good and evil” is the awareness of the duality inherent to divine consciousness. Scorpio is on the borderland between consciousness like the serpent recoiled around the centre of the Tree of Knowledge, the position said to be the border of the Human Soul in between spirit and matter. “The inferno is the womb of Heaven. Beauty is born from rottenness.” - Samuel Aun Weor 

written by Cherry art by Xue Wang

[tcm]

The Horror of Christmas By Jessica Pickens

“There'll be scary ghost stories and tales of the glories of Christmases long, long ago,” goes the song “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” released in 1963. That Christmas song’s lyric may have left you scratching your head each time you hear it. Written by Edward Pola and George Wyle, the song looks back at old holiday traditions. Ghosts, goblins and creepy murderous tales are strictly relegated to Halloween, right? That’s how it stands today, at least. But in the Victorian era, telling ghost stories was part of the Christmas tradition.

The death and rebirth of a new year during the Winter Solstice seemed like an appropriate time for telling ghost stories. “Whenever five or six English-speaking people meet round a fire on Christmas Eve, they start telling each other ghost stories,” wrote author and humorist Jerome K. Jerome in Told After Supper (1891). “Nothing satisfies us on Christmas Eve but to hear each other tell authentic anecdotes about specters. It is a genial, festive season, and we love to muse upon graves, and dead bodies, and murders, and blood.”

Even while we don’t tell ghost stories today at Christmas, one ghost story is still one of the most beloved Christmas tales, A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. But even when it was published in 1843, it was not the first, or last, paranormal story told about Christmas. While the tradition of sharing Christmas ghost stories died long before the dawn of film, it still found its way onto the screen:

A CHRISTMAS CAROL (’38 and ‘51) 

Ebenezer Scrooge is a bitter and mean old man who has no patience for humanity or happiness. On Christmas Eve, a series of ghosts visit Scrooge and take him on a journey of self-exploration. Scrooge revisits his past, present and future and is warned to change his ways before it’s too late.

Since first appearing in a short film in 1901, A CHRISTMAS CAROL has been retold on film and television numerous times for over 100 years. The story has even been retold by The Muppets and Mickey Mouse for family-friendly audiences. It has also been modernized into various time periods, with Scrooge-like characters portrayed by Bill Murray, Henry Winkler, Cicely Tyson, Matthew McConaughey, Vanessa Williams and Susan Lucci.

But there are still several, more faithful retellings of the Dickens novel, including the 1938 version, starring Reginald Owen, and the 1951 version, starring Alastair Sim as the main character.

Released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, the 1938 version has a lighter and more joyful vibe. Owen’s Scrooge is more of a grump rather than entirely mean-spirited. He is almost immediately remorseful and says he loves Christmas while he’s with the Ghost of Christmas Present. Gene Lockhart plays Bob Cratchit as a cheerful man, despite having to work for a tyrannical boss. The 1951 version, made in England and released by Renown Pictures Corporation, is a darker telling of the Dickens story. Alastair Sim’s Scrooge is more brutish, cruel and dismissive to Bob Cratchit, played by Mervyn Johns. Johns plays Cratchit as a meeker and more browbeaten character.

Regardless of the films’ differences, the message of both versions is the same. The ghosts in A CHRISTMAS CAROL aren’t meant to frighten the audience but to encourage self-reflection. Scrooge isn’t just haunted by Jacob Marley and the three ghosts; memories of his past haunt him — that’s why he’s so bitter.

BEYOND TOMORROW (’40) 

On Christmas Eve, we meet three elderly businessmen: George Melton (Harry Carey), Allan Chadwick (C. Aubrey Smith) and Michael O’Brien (Charles Winninger). The three men live together and are old friends, but they all have very different pasts. George is a man of little faith and is business-focused with a dark past. Distinguished Allan has a military background and lost his only son in World War I. Michael is the most whimsical of the three.

On Christmas Eve, Michael has the idea that they throw three wallets out into the street to see if an honest person returns them. A young man and woman, Jean Lawrence (Jean Parker) and James Houston (Richard Carlson), return the wallets. Neither having a family to go to that night, they join the gentlemen — all becoming fast friends by the end of the night. As Jean and James fall in love, they become close friends with the three men. Tragedy strikes when all three men are killed in a plane crash, leaving money to the couple so they can marry. However, with the new wealth and publicity, James becomes a singing radio star, forgetting about Jean in favor of another woman. The three men's ghosts try to guide James away from the other woman and encourage Jean to fight for her love.

In this story, the past lives of the three men don’t affect them in life, but in death. Carey’s character, George, is sort of like Scrooge. It’s hinted that he has a dark past, which may involve another woman and murder. Also, in his old age, anything but money is foolish to him. In death, George’s friends warn him that all he has to do is feel sorry for his past, but George has no regrets, even if it means going “to the dark place.”

In contrast, the other two characters are rewarded in death. Smith’s character gets to see his son again, who comes to fetch him. His son tells him that heaven is anything he wants it to be. Charles Winninger’s character is reluctant to leave his friends on Earth because he wants to continue to help them. But before leaving for heaven, he is able to. Even in death, the ghosts have to do good deeds not only to help their friends who are still living but to allow them to rest in the great beyond.

While we may not still tell ghost stories around the fire, the holiday season closes another year, allowing us to reflect on past memories. Some memories may be good, and others may haunt us in a way. However, 2020 may haunt us forever.

[umi-sen-yama-sen]

Two fated damned souls, who waltz around in an endless requiem melody, spinning in a cycle of death and rebirth—

"I'm Lumine, what about you?"

"I…am Ajax... Only Ajax."

.

.

.

—Like in a dream, within a dream.

Word Count: 4,418

Hello, Spring-umi here! I uploaded a new story, but it's Chilumi this time. A Jack/Lacie (from Pandora Hearts) story retold but Chilumi.

It just happened as well that Chilumi is a good angst material hahaha looool.

I missed Pandora Hearts so bad (had to re-read it for weeks) and Lacie is just my favorite character in there. And I lamented over her relationship with Jack. 😭

Jun Mochizuki is a real heartbreaker btw

[carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory]

The History of Holiday Ghost Stories

The song Jingle Bells, chestnuts roasting over an open fire, various types of poultry in assorted shrubbery, and horror stories. One of those things doesn’t quite seem to fit with the others, but “scary ghost stories and tales of the glories” have been an integral part of Christmas celebrations for certain cultures for centuries.

But how did something that is now much more associated with the fall and Halloween end up a quintessential (but quickly diminishing) Christmas tradition? Like so many of the things we now celebrate as part of the season, we must look past the symbols used in Christmas celebrations to earlier Pre-Christian times.

Oliver Cromwell may have been hinting about the less-than-Christian origins of some holiday traditions whenever he and the Puritans created an ordinance in 1644—following the outcome of the English Civil War—which abolished the Feast Day of Christmas (as well as Easter and Whitsun, another name for the festival of Pentecost). Shops were to remain open and soldiers would patrol the streets and seize food being prepared for a feast on those days. From 1659 to 1681, the Massachusetts Bay Colony in what would eventually become the United States banned the celebration of Christmas with the penalty being a five shilling fine—approximately three days wages for a skilled tradesman.

Many modern Christmas traditions are a conglomeration of many cultural and spiritual beliefs throughout time; the Yule Log as well as Yule season are often linked to Pre-Christian celebrations of the Solstice in pagan traditions.

The Winter Solstice (also known as hiemal solstice, hibernal solstice, or simply midwinter) is caused by the angle of the Earth’s axis reaching its maximum tilt away from the sun. This event causes the seasons on Earth, with the solstices falling on the points where the axis points directly towards and away from the Sun. In the Southern Hemisphere, this is reversed, with the Winter Solstice falling in June; making surfing at Christmas an appealing thought.

During the Winter Solstice, it was tradition to sit around the fires built to ward off the darkness with the Yule Log and celebrate the rebirth of the sun. Humans haven’t changed much biologically in several thousand years, and a person’s physical reaction to a harmless scare—elevated heart rate, endorphin rushes caused by adrenaline—is still essentially the same. The reaction to hearing a ghost story around the burning Yule fire became a tradition; a feeling of warmth and group bonding at what was the coldest and darkest time of year.

This tradition lasted for several hundred years until Christmas celebrations were halted by the Puritans. Despite many of the traditions making a resurgence during the Restoration (1660-circa 1688), the damage had essentially been done. Along with reducing of the importance of Feast Days during the Enlightenment and Industrial Revolution, many Christmas traditions were now seen as old-fashioned.

This abruptly changed in 1843 with the publication of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. While there was a small resurgence of Christmas Spirit taking place as a counter to the dehumanizing aspects of the Industrial Revolution, Charles Dickens was able to capture this burgeoning movement in the text. His story helped reinvigorate Christmas traditions, with a focus on the more humanistic aspects of the holiday—global peace and forgiveness, filial love, and goodwill towards humanity through good works. This caught the Victorian imagination and spawned an entire set of Christmas works by Dickens, including The Chimes, The Cricket on the Hearth, The Battle of Life, and The Haunted Man and the Ghost’s Bargain. Most of these works revisit themes about the crushing effects of capitalism and redemption that are first found in A Christmas Carol (though interestingly enough, never quite approached the commercial success of his first work in the genre).

From there, A Christmas Carol (or, as it may be thought of, a holiday ghost story) has become a cultural phenomenon. “Bah Humbug,” the phrase most often representing Ebenezer Scrooge, has entered the popular lexicon; the figure of Father Christmas helped inspire Thomas Nast during his creation of the modern portrayal of Santa Claus; and the story has been retold in film no less than 27 times since 1901—most importantly immortalized as a cultural touchstone in 1992 by the Muppets.

So this Yule season, relax in the glow of the Yule log, friends, and family and perhaps consider something to send a chill down your spine that isn’t necessarily from the weather. It is one of the oldest traditions after all. And as Dickens reminds us, “let us keep Christmas well.”

Andrew Huntley is a Gallery Experience Presenter in CMNH’s Life Long Learning Department. Museum staff, volunteers, and interns are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

[onewomancitadel]

I mean it’s like I got that ask the other day about R/WBY turning around and doing something mean with the story despite its thematic predictability, I'm not even sure if the storytellers are even aware... there are enough people to upset and subvert no Knightfall/Cindemption with. Like if anything it’s the path that you go if you want to be creative and individual knowing it might upset people.

Like, broadly speaking most people don’t think of Cinder as being that important or relevant (this is even true in-universe: the other baddies don’t really like her or care about her; Ruby doesn’t hold personal enmity towards her, the only person who does is Jaune, now Winter, which I think is some foiling/Maiden sisterly conflict; Cinder was important to Emerald because Emerald needed affection but could never get it from her, it was transactional, Emerald is free now). 

It’s even true of Jaune, Jaune is either the macho self-insert character or the dismissed comic relief. He does have funny moments and he is silly and cute but he’s also serious at times and has a serious moral quagmire to navigate. He’s had a serious shock to his identity.

So both of them are characters, if you want to do something seriously cool and unique, to... well... you know what this blog is about and what I never shut up about.

Most people only pay attention to the allusions, they don’t pay attention to the R/WBY fairytales for their narrative importance, or most of all Salem/Ozma. The allusions don’t really give structure to the direction of the story, in R/WBY now they’re basically obeying the fairytales of that world in the way they’re being retold. It’s very simplistic to my mind, especially for how it plays into the themes of the importance of stories, but yeah.

The Indecisive King is a really curious fairytale to include, because it’s about the last Relic and by extension the last Maiden, and there’s the implication that the crown is sort of a curse as well as a blessing - much like the Maidens being tied to the Vaults and the Relics are a curse. It’s already significant on that front alone because it gives us some thematic sense of what will happen later in the story... the fact that it has all of the potential Knightfall connections is the icing on top. 

I also think that this is pretty early architecture to set up for the ship (speaking specifically about V4/5) because it’s a slowburn like the other R/WBY ships. I think Knightfall is probably late in the game if it happens. It starts with Salem/Ozma, it ends with them (and is a rebirth/new beginning).

So yeah... Knightfall is a very different and unique and exciting ship, I’m not sure they’re trying to do any breadcrumbs for shippers lol, or even aware they might be ‘subverting’ something if they don’t do it. If they don’t do it, it’s just a regular story - Jaune ends up alone or with a character like Weiss, same old same old, Cinder probably dies alone. We’ve heard that one before many times over.