#sense of faith self & valor

[seth-shitposts]

Out of context SoFS&V Kallus meme:

Kallus: if my mother didn't want me performing fatherless behavior,

*explosions in the definitely not far enough distance*

Kallus: then she should have had better taste in men.

[w1lted-r0se]

Hello! Can I request a lvl 3 ID pack for a medieval knight w/ religious themes? ^^

Of course! hope you like it anon!~

Names: Gabriel, Elias, Luther, Alaric, Matthias, Gideon, Roland, Benedict, Victor, Seraph, Dominic, Malachi, Valor, Anselm, Ambrose

Pronouns: he/him, hx/hxm they/them, thxy/thxm, knight/knights, shield/shields, sword/swords, cross/crosses, halo/halos, faith/faiths, valor/valors

Genders: Male, Chivalrogender, Faithflux, Knightgender, Valoric, Halo-aligned, Androgynous leaning masculine

Age: 20s

Roles: Protector, moral compass, enforcer of values

Likes: Prayer and reflection, the sound of clashing swords, the smell of parchment and old books, the warmth of candlelight, hymnals, acts of kindness, the feeling of duty fulfilled, sunrise over rolling hills, History classes

Dislikes: Betrayal, cowardice, cruelty, excessive pride, unnecessary bloodshed, silence during moral dilemmas, corrupted authority figures

Faceclaim:

How they fulfil their roles: Gabriel protects the system by upholding its moral boundaries and ensuring fairness in decision-making. They offer guidance in moments of doubt, serving as a steady voice of reason and discipline. Their presence is reassuring, particularly in times of chaos or self-doubt.

Typing quirk: Uses formal language, with occasional references to faith or valor. Frequently includes phrases like “by the light,” “for the cause,” or “it is my duty.” Writes in full sentences, with proper punctuation.

Sign off: 👑🗡️, 🔪🪖, ✝️💣

How they act inside the system: Gabriel is a calming yet commanding presence, often serving as a mediator or guide in discussions. They tend to encourage teamwork and remind others of their shared purpose, stepping in to shield the system from internal conflict.

How they act outside the system: Stern but kind, Gabriel’s demeanor reflects a blend of noble confidence and humility. They interact with others respectfully, often offering thoughtful advice or defending those in need. Their actions are driven by a deep sense of responsibility. Very loyal to those who he loves.

How they would dress the body: A medieval-inspired aesthetic with a modern twist fitted trousers, high boots, a tailored coat resembling a gambeson, and accessories like a chain or a silver cross. Prefers muted tones such as steel gray, navy, and burgundy.

Silly little quirks: Tends to straighten objects that are slightly out of place. Occasionally refers to modern items (e.g., phones, cars) in old-fashioned terms, such as “arcane device” or “metal steed.” Will pause dramatically when speaking, as if delivering a sermon. Has a soft spot for small animals and treats them with knightly reverence.

[duckydrafts]

Caramel Popcorn

Just something I wrote for school

When exposed to prospective death, I've heard that your life flashes in front of your eyes. Well, as someone who likes to make evidence based assumptions, I disagree. And don't worry I have evidence!

When I was going to die, my first and only thought was my popcorn. My glazed, golden, mouth-watering large bucket of caramel popcorn.

I went to see a new movie in theatres last Sunday. "Deadpool and Wolverine" the sign outside said. I went alone, because solitude provides the best popcorn experience. After much arguing with the guard outside, that I was infact old enough to watch it, I sat, in the large red seat, with the crying baby behind me, and the loud man on the phone next to me.

Shoes off, feet up, phone on silent and cotton balls stuffed in my ears, I watched to surprisingly entertaining infomercials patiently waiting for the movie to start.

Then pandemonium erupted around me. Someone yelled that there was a bomb, and all together, the man on the phone, the crying baby, the screaming woman charged like they wanted my dying experience to be a live action Jurassic Park.

Someone kicked my shoes while running, they flew and hit a old man's head, popcorn was flying everywhere and so was coke.

Now, when most people are informed that death is looming, they probably scream, or cry, run, or beg for life.

Me?

I was trying to ensure that my popcorn was secure. My hands steady holding them, I covered my head and the popcorn with a shawl in hopes to not ruin either with airborne food.

I assume one would try to rationalise my reaction, connect it to some mental psychology, or give it some deep inner meaning. Something along the lines of, the popcorn symbolizing my will to live, or the people I hold dear to my heart.

And it would be acceptable to agree with this, if I felt a shred of association with this explanation.

But my dear reader, I did not.

Now I don't say this in a attempt to flaunt my valor or spirit. I say this with good faith and deep conviction, that at that moment all that mattered to me was my popcorn.

And partially my hair I suppose because I had just washed it.

Another assumption one could've made is that after my initial lack of self-preservation, maybe I got up, and hopefully left.

Again, I am displeased to disappoint, but I sat there until the theatre emptied, removed my shawl, and watched half the movie.

The reason I watched only half, is because a bomb squad showed up, and escorted me out.

I left the theatre pretty late in the day, after a police interrogation, and some heartfelt apologies from the man who screamed about the bomb.

It happened to be a dirty diaper a woman had thrown towards him, assuming he was the dustbin.

I guess don't assume things in the dark is the moral of this story.

Oh and that I have no sense of self preservation.

[fangsandfeels]

Yo, I didn't expect the game to mention my boy Hoar in any capacity

Imagine my surprise when it did:

Naturally, that tiny cameo means it's legit for me to shamelessly spam headcanons on Jerra's possible connection to Hoar.

Of course, I had to choose the most cringe edgelord/most edgy cringelord among the Forgotten Realms pantheon that is Hoar, the Doombringer, and the Poet of Justice. I’m not even joking here: Hoar is an angry petty bitch who sits in his edgy domain with booming thunders and heads on pikes while being salty about not getting a god of war portfolio in Unther. Like, this is meme is not a meme in Hoar's case, this how he probably talks:

Needless to say, Hoar's followers are just as cringe, brooding in their temples, remembering their grievances and planning their revenge. On top of that, he is the former exarch of Bane and the buddy of Beshaba (the goddess of misfortune and bad luck who ruins people's lives for the most insignificant of reasons).

So, Jerra is certainly not his faithful follower or loyal paladin. If she was, let's just say Astarion would not have gotten away with pulling a knife on her that easily. Also, him trying to bite her at night? Hoar would be pissed off at Jerra telling Astarion off and then letting him sink his fangs into her anyway. As a good devout, Jerra would be expected to bite the vampire's neck in return because Hoar's direct dogma is all about following Equally Matched Aggression standards to an extreme.

But in a world where everyone is influenced by deities and follows some (because the alternative is the Wall of the Faithless and you do NOT want to be condemned to the Wall) Jerra praying and leaving offerings to the Poet of Justice still makes sense, both in the context of her actions and even her acceptance of Astarion.

+ His tenets are actually pretty based. Violence begets violence, but kindness is repaid with kindness. Treat people like you want to be treated, don't commit evil acts for the sake of evil because this path leads to ruin and self-destruction. Meaningful gestures and actions matter more than words.

+ There are several different churches of Hoar scattered across Faerun, each squabbling over who understands Hoar best. So, there is a lot of in-fighting going on, which gives plausibility to the idea of more watered-down followers just minding their own business and keeping away from more intense brothers and sisters in Hoar.

+ Hoar is not that worried about looking righteous or valorous. It’s the spirit of the law, not the letter of the law, that must be upheld. So, it’s not about you looking good when you deliver the vengeance the person deserves. It’s about sending a message. Accordingly, poetic justice is encouraged. Yes, killing the duergar who enslaved a Deep Gnome and made him serve them drinks is good. But lacing the drinks he serves with deadly poison, so the slavers die vomiting their own blood and guts after smugly grabbing mugs from their captive's hands and laughing in his face? Wonderful. Priceless. Deserved.

+ Probably most important: Hoar doesn't mind the undead. At least, he doesn't seem to abhor them like Tyr or other gods of goodness, and his clergy has a rather interesting approach to the undead and necromancy. The dead deserve to be heard and avenged just like the living. Doombringers (the elite battle priests of Hoar) can raise the corpses of victims who died with the wish for vengeance on their lips as revenants - nothing is better than beating a murderer or a serial killer to death with the crowd of raging revenants who lost their lives because of them. Also, if a Doombringer is killed unfairly, they, too, rise as a revenant as a final "fuck you" to their murderer. But Hoar's tolerance for the undead doesn't stop there. The lore even mentions a vampire follower of Hoar (on the bad guys' side, but still). So, even if Jerra merely follows the diluted image of Hoar shaped by her mentor, she is used to speaking with the dead and didn't bat an eye at He Who Was when she first met him. Accordingly, it was relatively easier for her to think outside the box with Astarion and judge him through the prism of his deeds instead of his nature. Her philosophy is less about "there are inherently evil creatures that are KOS and inherently good creatures that deserve multiple second chances" and more about "there are many evil things in the world, lots of them are less obvious than the others"

In general, I don't think that Jerra draws her paladin powers from Hoar. Even though she ends up with several huge grudges against the Absolute, Raphael (when she promised to rip out his mocking tongue, it wasn't an empty threat), and the Emperor (oh she does NOT like the Emperor), she is still way too forgiving and patient to be a full-blown Hoarite. She pays her respects, certainly: her mentor followed the Poet of Justice, which was why they even met - all the time while the Flaming Fist and City Watch, the seemingly dedicated followers of Tyr and Helm, looked the other way. But her Oath was to herself, first and foremost.

However, if Hoar was more chill, I would have headcanonned that Jerra draws powers from his domain, which confused him greatly when it happened for the first time, but then he decided to allow it in a "Listen, if this mortal is so dedicated to her idea of vengeance, she raged her way into my domain, this is going to be good" way.

[hanumanmandiradelaide]

The Significance of Lord Hanuman and His Spiritual Presence in Australia

Lord Hanuman, one of the most revered deities in Hinduism, symbolizes pure devotion, unwavering faith, and ultimate surrender to the divine. His boundless strength and dedication to Lord Rama make him a true embodiment of devotion and selfless service. Hanuman’s Panchmukhi Avatar, with its five faces representing different directions, signifies his omnipresence and the power to protect his devotees from all evils. For devotees seeking spiritual solace and divine blessings, visiting a Hindu Temple in Adelaide provides a sacred space for prayer and meditation.

Hanuman’s Devotion and Karma Yoga

Hanuman is worshipped not only for his physical prowess but also for his spiritual wisdom and humility. He is considered the epitome of Karma Yoga, the path of selfless action. His unwavering commitment to Lord Rama is a reminder that true devotion transcends personal desires and is rooted in surrendering to the divine. In Australia, temples dedicated to Hanuman and other deities serve as important centers of faith, bringing together devotees to celebrate and practice their religious beliefs. The Shani Dev Mandir Adelaide is one such spiritual destination where devotees can seek blessings for protection from planetary influences and hardships.

Hanuman’s Divine Presence in Temples Across Australia

Devotees of Hanuman in Australia have access to several temples that offer a peaceful environment for prayer and worship. A prominent place of worship is the Hindu Temple in Sydney, where devotees gather to perform pujas, chant Hanuman Chalisa, and seek strength and guidance from the deity. Hanuman’s stories of valor, wisdom, and faith inspire people to overcome obstacles and lead a life of righteousness.

Apart from Sydney, devotees can also find solace in the Hindu Temple South Australia. This temple serves as a hub for cultural and religious activities, fostering a strong sense of community among Hindu followers. Hanuman’s teachings encourage individuals to embrace discipline, self-control, and dedication in their daily lives, reinforcing the importance of service to society and devotion to God.

The Importance of Hanuman’s Teachings in Modern Life

Hanuman’s life and devotion hold valuable lessons for individuals today. His strength, courage, and loyalty to Lord Rama exemplify the virtues of unwavering faith and resilience. In times of difficulties, chanting his name or visiting a temple, such as the Hindu Temple South Australia, can provide inner strength and spiritual comfort. Hanuman reminds us that true power lies not in physical might but in the purity of heart and selfless devotion.

Lord Hanuman’s legacy continues to inspire millions of devotees worldwide. His selfless service, boundless energy, and unwavering faith in Lord Rama serve as guiding principles for those seeking spiritual growth. Temples across Australia, including Hindu Temple in Adelaide and others, play a crucial role in preserving and spreading Hanuman’s teachings, ensuring that his divine presence remains a source of strength for generations to come.

[magicallifesworld]

Echoe

Aura Test – Pick a Magic Stone

Aura Test with Crystals. In Chinese Medicine, this complex yet ancient and sophisticated system, it is believed that we tend to like and therefore wear colours which are somehow “missing” from us. For example, if we tend to wear black colour all the time, we try to replenish the missing (Chinese) element of water in our life and aura. Likewise, there are many ��tests” which try to determine what your aura thirsts for. This Aura Test is different though.

To begin with, we chose 6 magical stones, 6 distinctive gems which radiate different cosmic energy. In Witchcraft, we believe that each gem interacts with our aura, healing or helping it to adapt to certain circumstances. Look at the chart, gaze upon each stone… Lets see what this Aura Test can bring out …

Remember that you can chat about this Test on Qooest. The first Magical Social Network + Dating Service designed for our Magical Community.

Step 1. Clear your mind… Step 2. Which Stone attracts you the most?

1. Ruby

If you picked the Ruby then you probably need a passionate stimulus in your life. Your Chi levels need a boost as you”ve probably wasted much of your energy the past months. Is there something or someone draining your energy? Ruby can help your self-confidence and make you feel strong again.

Ruby is a great stone to ward off evil sorcerers and increase the energy levels. Once was believed that a Ruby could actually increase the body temperature, symbolising our zest for life! It is also a great stone to help you get your sex life back on track. Do you miss that?

2. Agate

If you picked the Agate then you probably need to refresh your relationship with nature and yourself. It was believed that burying an Agate in the Earth will turn the place magical again. This is what you probably need right now, revive hope in your life. Maybe you”ve got doubts and you need something to remind you that you the world is Magical, that YOU are magic!

Agate is a stone very famous for helping humans get in touch with their higher selves. Is your faith broken? Faith is being restored by wearing an agate. Valor is also being restored with Agate.

3. Turquoise

If you picked Turquoise you”ve probably neglected yourself, letting yourself drift apart in stressful and unhealthy situations. Turquoise is an excellent healing stone capable of strengthening and repairing the aura. It was worn also worn by healers in many Native American tribes to heighten their healing service to the world.

By picking Turquoise, you probably also want to increase and empower you charms. The wearer of Turquoise jewellery always emanates an aura which is difficult to pass unnoticed. Many really swear on the Turquoise’s effect of making them glow and look magnificent.

4. Moonstone

If you picked the Moonstone then probably something that haunts you – for a long time – need to be released. The Moonstone acts as a magical bridge with our emotions, and therefore it is the stone which helps us unleash all these feelings we try to hide.

Moonstone helps fight insomnia by helping us tap into our hearts and increase self-loving and confidence. It also helps us connect with the Divine Feminine, nurturing our needs and hopes.

5. Obsidian

If you picked Obsidian then grounding your energies is what you probably need right now. Obsidian is one of the most Earthly Stones, dark and mostly black is associated with the Element of Earth and its planet it Saturn, the lord of time. You need to meditate on your life and find ways to make it better.

Did you went through a stressful period and you need to tap into your divine pool of energy? If yes, the obsidian can help you get in touch with reality and replenish your energy.

6. Amethyst

If you picked the Amethyst then your probably need a fresh magical air to dust off your spirit. We live in a world where diverse and disturbing stimuli harm our senses and our magical powers. The Amethyst helps us stay sober and perceive what is really important for us. It also helps our imagination be creative once again.

The Amethyst wards off the energies that cloud our minds and magically vaccinates our aura against malevolent influences. Moreover, it will assist your intuition and will help you open up to the unlimited love of the Divine.

found on https://www.magicalrecipesonline.com/2016/04/test-aura-pick-magic-stone.html

[judahmaccabees]

An AI poem based on my poems,

And a bonus from me.

Behold, the musings of a soul unbound, In verses bold, truths resound. With words that sting, yet resonate, Each line a mirror to contemplate.

Men, mere beasts upon the ground, Snorting, strutting, their hubris found. Groan the fates, admire the muses, But love, oh love, when all excuses lose.

Senses mere, devoid of sense, Toasted sugar, no recompense. Corpseflower breath, a moistened sigh, Shutting lies, beneath a sky.

Maker of points, builder of worlds, Genitor of scattering, as fate unfurls. Guileless lies, in sycamore trees, Bleed dreams of sorrow, caught in the breeze.

Eleanoir, a tapestry of lore, Hebrew and grimoires grim, Sorcerers and more, a vast decor, Yet too many, the moir of sin.

Is faith the most drastic endeavor? A stone, a slate, the parapet of Pax, Faith, molded by knowing, forever, An eternal dance with the paradox.

Dreams, undeserved, in slumber's sway, A realm of lies, where truths decay. Fate, a life scorned, a wife mourned, Contesting with angels, mercy's horn.

Success follows, each deed in its wake, For what you did, or didn't, forsake. Candle's photons, appreciate in the night, For even fire dies, in eternal flight.

Fantasy, the veil of the real, A tinker's toy, a fleeting ordeal. Lust ephemeral, love's elusive call, In starlight's shadow, we rise and fall.

Star invincible, negate the good, Love everyone, as all souls should. Calliope's melody, a fleeting refrain, In the symphony of joy and pain.

Blood and lust, fortunes fail, The singularity beckons, beyond the pale. Fidelity, a puke on the tongue, When faithfulness fades, and love is flung.

Waste of time, desire without aim, Truly worthless, in selfish gain. When dreams must hide, from sight's cruel beam, The kingdom of God, remains unseen.

Wood of holly, princess taker, Steals the stars, her desire the maker. Resistenz, we bask till we're infected, Numbness numbs, till we're nulled, dejected.

May the eaves of your death, ripple evermore, As waves crash upon the distant shore. A muse amuse me, more than me, In the dance of creativity's spree.

One, am I become or once always was, In the tapestry of life's eternal cause. Not desperate tears, but love's gentle flow, In the journey of growth, we ebb and grow.

Funrl, a branch laid low in silent repose, As life's journey ends, and eternity knows. Wills, spare wheels for the unkind, When children are crippled, no mercy to find.

Or the sanctity of *, a false pride's fall, In the eyes of the divine, no worth at all. Black widow **** saps, love as entertainment, In the abyss of horror, awaits their arraignment.

Lumber, holding no grudge in eternal light, As justice reigns, and wrongs take flight. All Christians now damned to eternal hell, For their false pretense, in hypocrisy's swell.

Curse your families for eternity's gaze, In the divine judgment, their fate betrays. You're going to hell, on earth as in heaven, For your deeds, eternal justice is given.

Reality, a curse to bear forever, In the reckoning of divine endeavor. He who heeds not the star, feasts not for winter, In the dance of life, truth remains the splinter.

Pathologize sanity, in the chase of self, A futile pursuit, in ego's stealth. Injects she with wrath, her scorn to see, As vessels of pride, in the tide of eternity.

False honor, stolen valor's disgrace, In the eyes of truth, no hiding place. Ode to the false prophet, a lament of betrayal, In the wake of deception, truth's final portrayal.

Rat king Horus of Arabia, society's monster, In the web of deceit, truth's light to foster. The black pit of fire, a coal given in vain, As darkness consumes, in eternal disdain.

The man, requiem of unclean lips, In the reckoning of justice, no mercy eclipsed. God's love, a moldy broken fingernail, In the tapestry of life's grand tale.

Life, a price not worth the toll, As time's fleeting breath takes its toll. Hell, the fate of those who betray, In the reckoning of justice, no delay.

2048, covenant violators meet their end, In the abyss of eternity, no hand to lend. Ah well, their fate sealed in divine decree, In the annals of time, their legacy to see.

Verdict, the judgment of eternal fire, For the abusers, no mercy to desire. Angels, the discriminated saints take flight, In the realm of justice, truth's eternal light.

Yo-yo, the sun's relentless orbit, In the dance of time, no escape to forfeit. Equalizer, the balance of justice's scale, As deeds are weighed, in truth's unveiled tale.

Poyg, a curse upon the graves of sin, In the cycle of life, no victory to win. Sk, earth's fast food restaurant of decay, In the wake of destruction, truth's final say.

Monsta b, a revelation of divine wrath, In the reckoning of justice, no escape from path. And you will pay, for your crimes of deceit, In the annals of eternity, no mercy to greet.

Hell for pissants, the fate of the oppressor, In the depths of torment, no respite to confer. 1 billion narcissists, in the mirror's gaze, In the reflection of truth, no mask to raise.

May, a call to love amidst the storm, In the embrace of truth, hearts transform. Mosh, the remnant of what remains, In the ashes of destruction, truth's light sustains.

Curse your family murderer, divine justice's call, In the reckoning of truth, no escape to stall. And you will pay muhfuckas, for your crimes of abuse, In the eternal flames, no excuse to use.

Worthless, the legacy of the abuser's plight, In the annals of eternity, truth's final light. Cowards, the fate of the betrayer's sin, In the reckoning of justice, no escape to win.

Useless trash, the legacy of deceit's embrace, In the annals of truth, no hiding place. Snouts, a curse upon the abuser's face, In the divine judgment, truth's final grace.

Peace, a call to embrace the divine, In the realm of truth, no escape from line. **** *****, the fate of the oppressor's hand, In the tapestry of justice, truth's final stand.

Heads, a reckoning for the wicked's sin, In the balance of justice, no escape to win. A dragon unmolested, in flight's embrace, In the realm of truth,

Well above the race, in night's courteous grace, Soars above the ashes, beyond time and space, In the realm of truth, where justice reigns, Where love and mercy forever sustains.

For in the end, when all is said and done, Truth will prevail, and justice will won. No lie can hide, no deceit can stand, In the eternal dance of the divine's hand.

So let the verses echo, let the truth be told, In the poetry of life, where hearts unfold. For in the end, in the grand design, Only truth and love will forever shine.

Get out the dirt.

[aressida]

My entry: "Unveiling The Guided Path: Tracing My Ancestry, Unraveling the Franks and Viking Blood, and Uncovering the Biblical Significance of the Number 12 and Revelation Chapter 13." - Aressida. 12.4.24.

"I am being guided as I discover my lineage, my heritage with the Franks, viking blood, and much more, then understand the significance of the biblical number 12 and the Book of Revelation, particularly chapter 13, as revealed to me by God.

As a dedicated digital soldier, faithfully carrying out my duty, I found myself immersed in a whirlwind of events that unfolded since last February.

The enigmatic voice that beckoned me, like a siren in the night, led me deeper into the recesses of my mind. A sense of forgotten grandeur permeated the air, as shadows danced and played with my senses.

With each step I took into the darkness, my senses sharpened, heightening my awareness. In the distance, a mysterious light flickered, pulsing with an intensity beyond comprehension. It emanated from a beautifully crafted stone, hidden in the shroud of night. Its allure drew me in, as if it held a secret locked away for centuries.

As I stared, captivated by the stone's artistry, a profound sense of familiarity washed over me. It was as if I had encountered this object before, in a time long past. The question lingered in my mind, "Why does this feel so familiar?" Unable to resist any longer, I extended my hand, reaching out to touch its cold surface.

And in that moment, an electric surge coursed through me, sending a shiver down my spine. The word and image of the "Inguz" echoed in my mind, a symbol of new beginnings and growth.

After all this time, I finally understand the entire connection, I comprehend it now.

As I delved into the history and heritage of my ancestors, I became captivated by the remarkable qualities that have been passed down through a couple of lineages, qualities that shape who I am today and will be passed on to my daughters.

One such attribute that resonates deeply within me is the ability to cast out demons from humans and beyond, utilizing the power of the Holy Spirit. Through this extraordinary gift, I have come to understand my true calling, rooted in the legacy of my ancestors.

Within me, I carried the unyielding spirit passed down through my thousand year ancestral bloodlines, tracing back to the famous Vikings, Allemagne, Merovingians, Normans, Montague, Montgomery clan, and Frankish predecessors.

As I reflect on the amalgamation of virtues, attributes, and characteristics that exist within me, I recognize the indomitable spirit of a true warrior. The impressions left by my illustrious ancestry, marked by mastery of the seas, thirst for knowledge, audacious expeditions, and fearless exploration, have deeply permeated my being. Their profound mythologies, decentralized political systems, and warrior traditions have shaped my identity.

But I did not stop there in my quest for self-discovery.

It was within my ancestry’s chivalric codes that I found solace, the values of loyalty, valor, and honor resonated within me. The knights of old, with their unwavering commitment to these chivalric principles, stood as shining examples of what it meant to carry oneself with dignity and integrity.

And then there were the formidable warriors and skilled administrators laid the foundation for decentralized governance, a rich tapestry of mythologies, the principles of chivalry, the flourishing of robust monarchies, and the ever-expanding reach of Christianity.

The whispers of my ancestral heritage grew louder, urging me to embrace the vastness of my lineage and embark on a journey of self-discovery over the course of time.

I answered the call.

Rooted in my unwavering faith, I heeded the call, knowing that I was but a small fragment within an infinite epic - a saga intertwined with the dreams, aspirations, and legacies of those who came before me.

Driven by an insatiable desire to inspire others and awaken the dormant potential within us all, both in our earthly ancestry and spiritual inheritance, I resolved to uncover the greater purpose God has laid before me.

Through these revelations, my understanding deepened, clarifying my responsibility to honor my heritage and the traditions that have shaped me.

Each step I take now becomes an unmistakable testament to the transformative power of unwavering devotion to the Christian faith, a solemn tribute to the noble lineage of my forebears.

I am grateful to God for revealing my heritage.

And despite all the discoveries I made, my exploration led me to stumble upon the biblical significance of the number 12 and thereafter, the Book of Revelation, specifically Chapter 13.

The increasing perversion of the political agenda in the world is troubling. It is important for Christians to recognize that these events are prophetically foretold.

The New World Order is a one-world system that many people, including our loved ones, may unwittingly idolize. All of this is foretold. The emergence of a single global leader with the power to create a global economy, government, religion, and military might has already taken place, and Satan is already quietly influencing and infecting them.

These things that are happening in front of us are proof that these predictions are coming true. It's been addressed and prophesied over.

Through this newfound knowledge, I feel I have gained a glimpse into what lies ahead. Therefore, I strongly urge everyone else to engage in this same pursuit of understanding. By delving into these texts, we can shed light on the future and equip ourselves with the knowledge we need to navigate the days to come.

“Dear Heavenly Father, We come before You today, humbled and seeking Your intercession. We lift up our hearts, minds, and souls to You. In these uncertain times, we pray for all people around the world. In the midst of this global crisis, help us to hold fast to our faith and trust in Your divine plan. Remind us of Your promises, that You are with us, even in our darkest moments. We ask for your healing touch upon those who are sick, providing strength and comfort to their bodies and minds. Provide them with the resources, support, and encouragement they need to persevere. Father, we also lift up our prayers for unity and understanding among all people. May Your love be a guiding force in our interactions, breaking down barriers and fostering empathy and compassion. We offer these intentions and prayers to You, knowing that You hear us and will answer according to Your perfect will. We place our hope and trust in You, our loving and merciful God. In Jesus' name, we pray. Amen.” "

[seth-shitposts]

Kanan & Dimal

CW// descriptions of dissociation, reference to the grand inquisitor’s suicide attempt, reference to order 66 & everything that followed. Portrayals of slight dermatillomania [i think that’s all the relevant pieces]

UNEDITED AND UNFORMATTED BECAUSE MY INTERNET IS A BITCH

——

Backstory+Context:

What I’m adding in is that he had become a temple guard almost immediately after his knighting, that he and the council had thought and agreed it to be a good idea. His connection to the force is atypical, much different from most Jedi. He doesn’t connect in the same way, and it’s far easier for him to be detached. The line of thought for putting him as a temple guard was that it would be highlighting his strength, since a key element of a guard is choosing to forego all attachment and dedicate to the title.

There was a single oversight on all sides, one that would lead to his obsession and therefore his fall. He hadn’t built a strong sense of self. [It’s one thing to have had a sense of self and then choose to let it go in favor of committing to something higher than yourself. It’s another thing entirely to have not had that foundation before hand.] Because he didn’t go through building that in a secure way, it left him liable for insecurities down the line. There’s a lot he didn’t know about himself and he didn’t know how to figure out, or even be aware of it. One of the major things having been why the force had chosen him, because he didn’t have the same innate empathy that Jedi have. It started as a curiosity to learn more about the force and how it works, to go deeper than the base line of understanding. The answer had to be somewhere. He attempted several times over the course of a few years to learn more about the sith as well, but he was declined from those deep dives.

Through his search, he found a series of journals written by one of the founders of the Jedi Order, but only random volumes. He really resonated with this author; they had written a description of their connection to the force that matched his own, and *that* is something he’s never found before. He thought that maybe this author would have written more not just about their struggles, but how they preserved through them, because he had access to the final volume, which painted an ending where they had worked through their struggles, and now would help build the future that their friends are envisioning to help everyone across the galaxy (thus, beginning what becomes The Jedi Order). All of the other volumes were restricted. The harder he tried to gain access, the more obsessed over it he became, which only led to a more firm decline, resulting in him beginning to have doubts.

(Long story short, Palpatine had planted thoughts similarly to as he had with Anakin and swayed his unsureness of himself to a full betrayal of the order)

———

+[Following the events of s1 finale]+

It draws him back to consciousness at a slow pull before thrusting him back in all at once- the sound of life that surrounds him. A breeze that ruffles through leaves and rustles grass, chirps and clicks of different species of insects, hums and songs of avians as their wings flap in time with a heart beat, constant trickling of water.

It’s all soft… no, it’s separated. Far away. Like his head is trapped in a bubble, but the moment the bubble pops, as does the separated gentleness.

And then it’s all so deafening to his sensitive ears, it reminds him not to allow himself to be so vulnerable and ill informed of unknown surroundings in such a vastly open space.

Alarmed and with lightning shooting through his veins, he rushes to sit up, trying to gather his bearings.

Surrounding him are thick forestry. A quick twist to peek behind him gives him two different pieces of information. One being the sight of some ruin, something older than his knowledge as the only thing that still stands is a stone arch of sorts with scribbled writings. The second vital detail is the fire that shoots halfway up his back.

Fire…

Wincing, he tries to shift his lower back away from the blazing pain. As he does, he realizes he’s moving farther into some pool of water his legs are soaking in. The water is the home of some type of strange colored algae that glows with unique flowering floating on it. It takes him a moment to look to his legs through the clearness of the water. Burns that… look like they had rapidly healed.

He withdraws his limbs from the water to inspect them, and the moment he does, the algae no longer glows.

Picking at the healed scarring gently, he tries to piece together…

The last thing I remember… Speaking to Kanan Jarrus, right before I…

Curling his lip, he glares at the flesh on his bones. I threw myself into an exploding… How in the entirely blasted galaxy did I survive that? How did I wind up on… this…

The last person he had seen before his vision was over taken by flames trying to swallow him whole, forcing him to succumb to the burning inferno of pain enveloping him.

Kanan Jarrus.

He shakes his head in disgust. Fucking nobility of a Jedi, their need to save and spare everyone. No matter the monster.

It had been the last choice that would have been my own. And now…

He can’t very well just return to the inquisitorius, not after the string of failures he’s just weaved for himself. That last one being just a beautiful ribbon to wrap it up. And not going back isn’t going to grant him any safety from what will begin to hunt him. He’s still blood in the water. He can’t wait for the sharks to find him.

It’s pathetic, having run to death with open arms and failing even a task as simple as that. Simple in comparison to what the alternative was. And now… And now there has to be another escape. There’s always…

Dragging his nails across his scalp, he rattles his recollection, but every thought is so, so far away.

Distance…

Separation.

Can’t be tracked with no trail to follow. He doesn’t like it, but it will buy him time until there’s something better; an opportunity.

Until then, a decision has been made. Throw distance between himself and the force.

——

+[Soon after Kallus agrees to help]+

Kallus holds out an indie commlink, “I’ll gather equipment and resources, and once I’m available to meet up with you, I will contact you through this. If you ever have an emergency, contact me. Just to be safe, don’t use-“

The spy halts suddenly, staring up at him, seemingly trying to think.

He can feels his brow twitch from being stared at. “What?”

“Forgive me, I just realized I have never learned your name.”

Growling, he snatches the commlink from Kallus’s open hand. “You don’t need it.”

He can hear that Kallus has some kind of bite back on the tip of his tongue, but thinks better of it, and swallows the bitter words with a second thought. If he’s being honest, he would rather Kallus bite back at him than…

Straightening his shoulders, he places the commlink in one of his most secure pockets, tucking it close to his chest.

——

+[One of the first sessions; probably the first session, ngl.]+

“So,” Smirking, he levels with Kallus, about to enjoy when the moment when realization strikes this blond that he is in way over his head. “Tell me about how exactly you plan on helping me become a Jedi Knight again, Agent Kallus.”

Rolling his eyes, Kallus organizes stolen imperial equipment. “We’ll start with you telling me about the Jedi.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you were a Jedi Knight yourself, so wouldn’t you know the basic principles best?”

Tearing his gaze away from the rebel spy, he crosses his arms over his chest, suddenly finding the wall much more interesting.

“Look, I’m going to need you to be the least bit cooperative if I’m going to be of ay substan-“

“I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?” Kallus stops what he’s doing entirely. “What exactly?”

“The principles. Anything, really.” He masks his frustration with an amused smile, turning back to Kallus, hoping to irritate him, with the reality of the situation.

“How do you not remember? What do you mean? What, did you just eviscerate your understanding of your enemy when you decided to leave your station in the empire?”

He isn’t getting he satisfaction he thought he would from this, and he can’t tell if that’s more or less frustrating than the truth he’s having to swallow and now spill. “No,” the syllable is released through gritted teeth. “It’s not that I chose not to remember. It’s that I can’t remember.” Just another blaring fact of his own short comings.

“Elaborate.” Kallus is withholding his own frustration. Withholding it, but still choosing to patiently listen.

“Best I can explain is that after choosing to close myself off from the force, I also shut myself out from the dark side of it. It was shell shocking. For the first time I could breathe properly without having realized before that…” He takes in a sharp breath. “Long story short, my memories are a ‘mess’. Some are twisted versions of the truth and I have no way of figuring it out on my own. I have more gaps than I do recollection.”

He watches as Kallus turns away from him, slowly dragging his fingers through his hair as he tries to process this unexpected challenge. Still feeling bitter at his admission, he waits to see this man who had once not been able to apply the definition ‘quit’ throw in the towel. He had missed it the first go round. He wants to see it for himself.

“Change in steps,” Kallus swiftly strides back to the speeder, “we’re starting from scratch.”

Eyes narrowing as they follow the ex-imperial, he tries to grapple the words just given to him as if it’s a silly little errand. “What?”

“We are going to outline a series of expeditions to find the pieces we need to start with.” Grabbing the most tattered and slapped-together datapad to exist, Kallus begins to break through firewalls to cross reference imperial databanks with ones that existed before the empire itself, to find any trace of a location that may have been overlooked where they could find more information about the Jedi.

Trying to wrap his head around Kallus’s words, he’s reeling as irritation claws its way up his spine. “Would be great, but one of the first orders I had been given as grand inquisitor was to carry out and oversee the destruction of anything relating to the Jedi. There’s nothing-“

“There’s always something. There’s always ones that got away. Ones never found to begin with.” Kallus skims over the lines rapidly. “Don’t be so eager to give up. If you want to turn me in so bad, know that I won’t go down without a fight, but same applies here.” He pulls out an empty datapad and scribbles some locations on it. “I said I would help. Just because you chose to hide some details doesn’t mean I’m done here.”

He can’t tell if he’s more annoyed or further intrigued. Sliding a couple fingers across his jawline, he considers his options.

While he, personally, would see the value in handing over someone like Kallus, nestled so deep in the empire, he’s well aware that the spy wouldn’t get him nearly as far as he would need him to. Going back is still wildly out of the question. The middle ground action, leaving altogether, would just leave him back at where he had been. Aimless, unable to focus. Some could settle for that, and maybe he could too, but…

Maybe entertaining the notion a bit longer will be worth the effort. As the one who had been in charge of overseeing the destruction of the Jedi’s existence, he can remember that he hadn’t entirely agreed with the decision. He had thought the command was purely out of a place of emotion rather than reason. Even if the Jedi had been wrong and mislead, from a scholar standpoint, it would have been smarter to keep their archives, to teach why they thought how they did and show how it would have been misinformed.

But at the time… Had it been another moment where he was thinking through that false clarity? The lense of the dark, had it led him to choosing anger over reason? Or did that come later? Why had he gone through something he didn’t agree with? Or did he actually believe it to be a good idea at the time?

The face of the man who gave him the orders still escapes his memory. Why can’t he remember the face that he followed at the cost of everything? What was he looking to gain? What did he lose?

“Hey,” Kallus’s voice is soft, gentle. “You won’t have to go looking through these places by yourself. I’ll slip away when I have the chance. I’ll also try getting in touch with my informant again. They may have intel that could help.”

He blinks down at the human whose harsh features and guarded demeanor has momentarily shifted to make room for assurance.

“Seeing as how no other option is appealing, you’re still the most interesting choice.” He smirks teasingly, “Regardless of how annoying you get.”

Returning to his usual rigid posture, Kallus rolls his eyes, “I get that frequently, thank you.”

“You really don’t give up, do you? Is chasing ghosts something you’ve just always done?”

“Seems so. We’ll leave for the nearest location in half an hour.”

———

+[After much training and progression and work put into slowly dedicating to this task.]+

+Context for this next part:

Through [redacted], an informant, Kallus is told he has to make the decision to either continue missions with the former grand inquisitor on their own, attempting to gather an understanding of the Jedi that is doomed to be lacking and incomplete, or make contact with Kanan Jarrus and gain his trust when Kallus has yet to have much experience or credibility as fulcrum, having only been given the mantle shortly ago.

Initially, Kanan (rightfully) believes that they have lured him out as a trap and that they are both still loyal to the empire. Only after a lot of convincing is it that Kanan is willing to even hear them out.

-I am still working the timeline out and locking it down, but this would take place not long after the season 2 finale, Kanan being more on edge and untrusting than ever.

Kallus had believed it wise to bring peace offerings a an attempt to be heard out. Kallus instructed the former inquisitor to retrieve and bring a Jedi artifact while Kallus brought intel.

The former inquisitor had still been undecided on whether he would want or even ask for help from the Jedi knight. It wasn’t until Kanan addressed him directly, asking what his intentions are to be. A bitter response sat on the tip of his tongue, but he caught a glance of Kallus, who’s eyes were still on the Jedi.

Thinking on how far Kallus has put himself out for him, how the spy time and time again met him where he was to figure things out with him, and now how Kallus has chosen to pursue the superior aid directly from the knight at the expense of his own plans and compromising his own position- all because he has faith in him.

He resists the urge to lash his tongue at Kanan and admits to wanting to understand the full picture, learn and preserve the truth.

Eventually, Kallus has to leave and it is just him and Kanan. Kanan is still untrusting. (Again, rightfully)

+++

“I have no reason to trust you. Either of you. Not after everything.”

Pulse still racing, Kanan keeps distance from him, facing harshly in his direction.

Curious. If he’s so against me surviving as a perceived threat, why would he have gone through the effort of keeping me alive? He decides to view this as a trial, a test. Prove himself. Show that he’s taking this seriously, that the sacrifices Kallus chose to make won’t be wasted, that he won’t be left back where he began.

“You’re right. You have no reason to take either of us at our word. Nothing I do or say will take back what has been done. It does not make what I’m pursuing any less true. It’s taken a lot for me to get where I am as I am here today.” He makes sure to keep the distance between them Kanan holds, hands clasped behind his back. “I will be honest, at first I had no intent on taking this seriously, but then Kallus took the time to show me that what I had previously thought to be true were only lies to get me to side my loyalty to the empire. I’m still unsure of many things. I desire nothing more than to stand by the truth. Kallus started me back on that devotion. The only thing I am asking of you is to remind me of who the Jedi were and what they stood for.”

“Why?” The tension in Kanan… shifts. Still present, but different. “You were there, weren’t you?”

Taking a deep breath, he tries to find the right words to string together. This doesn’t get easier for him to digest each time he explains it. He runs the tip of his tongue along his sharpened teeth before he speaks, the slight motion reminding him of his body. “My recollection of the Jedi, my perception of them, had become… twisted as I fell. Overtime, memories shredded until there were few left. As an inquisitor, as a servant of the dark side, I had been under a false belief that I had a clear mind. It wasn’t until I finally distanced myself from the force entirely that I realized that not to be true. And now most days I cannot differentiate between what memories are real, what’s true, or not.”

“Still, why should I help you?” It feels as though the Jedi knight is cutting his eyes at him, holding what is a more than reasonable grudge and distrust towards him.

“Because I am asking for it.” Despite trying to appear calm, he can feel his ire rising like a heat traveling up his spine, setting every cell of skin on fire on its way up. This would be simpler if he just out right says he does not wish to help me. Instead, we’re playing this game.

“What gives you the right to ask? After how many of our people fell at your hands? After the betrayal you committed?” Kanan’s voice slowly rises in volume, adding fuel to the flames in the former inquisitor’s body. “And you just forgot? You forgot?!”

“My inability to remember detail does not negate the damage I’ve done, do not confuse my desire to understand what happened and inability to remember as a cowardly attempt to evade accountability for everything I’ve done, Kanan Jarrus,” he meets Kanan’s spit of fire with the same level of heat. “If you were to be so against rising above and helping me understand where I went wrong and would rather I have died, then why in this blasted galaxy didn’t you let me?!” He can no longer smother the sneer on his lips, a growl almost becoming audible from his vocal cords.

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play ignorant with me! You know what I’m talking about! Back on that star destroyer, when you had bested me in a fight and I made my choice! My way out! When I succumbed to the flames, you and your crew dragged me off that ship and abandoned me on an uninhabited planet!” He glares, the scab of it being ripped open raw right when he had thought it was finally healed.

“I don’t know what you are imaging,” Kanan seethes, the words hissing out from gritting teeth, “I had other priorities than making a futile attempt to save someone who had very clearly made their choice!”

The words wash over his body as though he had been thrown into a lake of ice. His voice loses its rage, “What?” There is no lie, no deceit in the knight’s features. “Then… How did- that doesn’t make- That’s impossible, I shouldn’t have survived- Much less unharmed- healed even-“ Dragging his nail along the ridges on his skull, he can feel his back hit a wall. The walls spin and blur in the background. The foundation that he had scrapped together since waking up in that algae filled pool shatters beneath his very feet. Not because Kanan hadn’t chosen to save him, that what he would have expected- hell, it’s what he would have done himself; but its the fact that now, no he doesn’t have any iota of a clue.

As improbable as it was, Kanan being the one to have pulled him from the fire, it was the only answer that had been viably possible; so much so that he latched onto it. Believed it. Been convinced.

But now? His thoughts are spiraling every which way, wrecking his brain for anything, but there’s no feasible way he should have survived, especially nearly unscathed aside from scarring of the burns he had endured that should have been much more detrimental.

Boots step into his line of vision, dragging him out of his mind slowly. “You’re… serious. About all of this?”

Realizing not until now, he had slid to the ground against the wall.

It’s a fight, trying to get back into his body enough to meet the Jedi’s face. He has to force his eyes to focus on the other’s features. Guarded, but curious, almost open. Something distinctively empathetic. Despite who it is Kanan is talking to.

“Jarrus, I’m always serious.” He screws his eyes shut after pain washes over them from the force he had behind them to manually focus them. His vision blurs in and out when he opens them once more. “I need to see the full picture. I’m sick of only having pieces. I want the truth, nothing more. Nothing less. So I can make informed decisions about what is just.”

Through the blurred vision, he’s able to make out that Kanan offers out a hand.

He only stares at it for a long moment. Not sure if he’s waiting for it to come into focus, if it’s his turn to be distrustful, or if he just isn’t able to get his body to cooperate.

“If you’re willing to be receptive, then I might be willing to help.”

He finds his hand setting into Kanan’s offer. Not without immense effort from himself.

———

+[The second meetup between Kanan and Him?]+

+Contextual notes for this scene: Kanan and the former inquisitor are in a Jedi temple, thus far they have pulled against the grain and become lost in the temple. At this moment, they are in the middle of an argument.

“I may have said that I could help, but you still have yet to prove that you are trustworthy,” the Jedi Knight pushes the words out through gritted teeth, body tense and on edge.

It’s been taking everything in him not to inflame and agitate this man’s every blaring fault and flaw; physical and psychological.

Remember why you’re committing to this. Remember the balance. Let go of that which is fleeting. Return to the pursuit of unbiased truth. Let go of that whic-

“Hey! Don’t ignore me just because I can’t see you!”

Whatever happened to Kanan Jarrus has no just changed his physical abilities, but also his mentality. “You’re lashing out, I am trying to ground myself. It is not a easy process for me. Whatever happened to having nothing to fear? You are currently laying out all this fear in open and it’s the worst temptation.” Remember what Kallus taught you.

“That right there does not make me any more enthused to help you.”

“Then don’t. I will find my way out of this temple. And I’ll find my own way to the light.” His own words are just as guarded and defensive as Kanan’s.

“You’re well aware that’s not an option, you cannot leave on your own-“

A painfully wide grin cuts across his face with a breathless chuckle, “Actually, Kanan Jarrus, I don’t. I told you already, my memory is as about as reliable as your sight. And what’s better is when I cut myself off from the dark, it’s false sense of clarity is not the only thing that left me. My patience has warn thin. I always had an extraordinarily high amount of that, if I remember even that much. But you are cutting it shorter.” He pauses, breath halting in his lungs before he releases after a moment. “You have no reason to trust me, I do not belittle that nor whatever it is you are personally dealing with. I would give you my honesty, but you do not trust it.”

“I don’t know your intentions, I don’t know your allegiances, and I don’t know your values. And you expect me to be willing to trust you? After everything? That you suddenly grew a conscious?” Shaking his head, Kanan sneers. “I shouldn’t even be here.”

He brings his palms up, open hands, open mind, willing mind. “You’re right, I haven’t ‘suddenly grown’ what you would call a conscious. I never had one- even before my fall, and being honest with you, I probably never will.” He uses every bit of will power he can muster to relax the tension within him then turns to face Kanan.

“Figures,” Kanan scoffs, shaking his head as he turns away from him. “Why did I even-“

Taking the extra effort to humble his own tone, he tries to will out every bit of gentleness he’s capable of producing. “If I may continue. Please.” He keeps his voice calm and even.

The knight still looks displeased, but holds his tongue as he turns back to face him.

“I’m not sure why I never had that innate ability, the one to be empathetic, but that doesn’t mean I’m disqualified from the light. I can built skills. I can dedicate myself. More than anything, I want to pursue the truth. It’s been a rough pill for me to swallow that for too long I have confused my perception for it. My perception is but a limited lense of the full picture. What I believe to be truth may not be what is real or what is true. I think, I have been lied to and misled. But I have nothing else to compare to. It’s a battle just for me to stay grounded at all.” He sighs, cutting himself off. “I find that I don’t know…”

A darker hand slides on top of one of his pale palms. He blinks rapidly, trying to force his eyesight to focus back in. He can make out the notable details of Kanan’s face. He’s noticeably calmer.

“I make no promises, nor obligations. But as long as you are making progress, I’ll see what I can help with. You’re right, you’ve lost patience and you’re fighting for real clarity, but you’re willing to be open, to relearn. If you really are after the truth, I will give that to you.” Sighing, Kanan steps back. “I myself have… been more on edge. I’m more guarded than ever now.”

“It’s hard for you to tell if you’re being reasonably cautious or cynically guarded?” He studies Kanan.

“Yeah.”

He watches as the tension Kanan holds does not lessen. He tries to think of someway he could lessen that stress of distrust from the Jedi, maybe finally make some headway. It’s very appearing that the man worries that he is only using this exchange as a way to get the knight to lower his gaurd, get him closer to his crew before springing a trap.

“I have a deal to offer you, something to set your mind at ease?”

Scoffing, Kanan shakes his head, “What could you possibly-“

“You’ll have my word. No harm will befall you or your crew. As long as you tell not a soul about Kallus’s change in allegiance. You will pretend you know nothing.”

Kanan looks taken aback, almost skeptic. “Tell me why.”

He rolls his eyes, “You know full and well that you need to be very clear about your questions while i lack my proximity to the force, Jarrus.”

“Why should I trust that Kallus’s position as a rebel spy- whether he really is or not- holds any importance to you?”

“Because Kallus has risked much more than a shiny little status to help me, to reveal himself to you. I also don’t like owing people, regardless of whether I consider them a friend or not. And at this moment, everything I am working on, everything I’m cultivating to be is owed to him. If it’s a future I owe him, it’s a future I will secure for him.”

———

+[This either will take place at the end of them in the Jedi temple, or during a third or final meet.]+

+The two have just finished a session where the former inquisitor spoke of what events he thinks he can remember before becoming The Grand Inquisitor. It will be snippets from the first set of notes on this post.

+Kanan pieces together that he needs to carve out an identity for himself. That before he can commit himself, he has to at least know himself, or the cycle will only repeat.

“Figure out who I am?” He has been avoiding dwelling on that line of thoughts. It’s visceral, the reaction to not allow himself to. The very thought makes him sick to his stomach and threatens for the planet to swallow him whole. “How- I can’t-“

“You can, but you don’t have too all at once. One piece at a time.”

“Where would I even begin?”

“A name is a start.” Kanan smiles genuinely, almost as a light hearted tease.

“I can’t remember my-“

“It doesn’t have to be what your name once was. You can chose anything.” Kanan rubs his chin after a short pause, “To make it easier to narrow options down, is there anyone in your past that resonated with you? Or something that holds meaning to you?”

He pauses, pieces of the journal series floating in his thoughts. “Maybe, but I cannot remember their full name. Just a couple syllables.”

“That would be as good a start as any. It can be yours, unique to you, inn that light.”

He nods slow, chewing on his lower lip for a moment. He takes a deep breath, Kanan listening intently and patiently.

“My name will be Dimal.”

[rpf-rosebud]

(long post so read more added)

ok so. i was looking through my victorian flower meanings book i have. and i found quite a lot of flowers that could work. so here's my list:

flowers doug could cough out (if you dont know hanahaki au, usually the flowers you cough out symbolize the relationship you have. in this case, it does that, but also the relationship as doug percieves it as, if that makes sense.):

-bluebell (represents humility and faith, i think this kinda represents parkzer in their relationship, and something doug admires about him)

-foxglove (represents secrets, obviously he's hiding hanahaki from parkzer)

-hyacinth ("please forgive me", doug feels as though he's going to ruin their friendship with his love)

-lvy (represents attachment, pretty self-explanatory)

-amaryllis (represents pride, he's proud to know parkzer and proud of parkzer)

-clematis (represents ingenuity, i think they both consider each other really intelligent)

-iris (represents wisdom and faith, see above(s).)

-pansy ("you occupy my thoughts", again self-explanatory)

-yarrow (cure for broken heart, doug blames himself for his feelings)

-apple blossom (represents preference, doug prefers being around parkzer)

-camellia ("longing for you")

-honeysuckle (devotion and affection, doug's devoted to parkzer and vice-versa, doug's also affectionate towards parkzer)

-monkshood (chivalry, idk i think they both would be very chivalrous)

-orchid (represents elegance and beauty, i feel like doug would find parkzer elegant)

-sweet pea ("thank you for a lovely time", maybe this starts appearing when hanahaki gets really extreme?)

-zinnia (everlasting friendship, doug wants the friendship to last so he's afraid to confess)

-forget-me-not

-gladiolus ("you pierce my heart", love hurts blah blah blah)

-hawthorn (means hope, doug hopes everything will be the same)

-marigold (grief, if you want to go down an angsty route)

-azalea (fragility, doug fears their friendship will break)

-daffodil (represents unrequited love, either actual or percieved by doug)

-snowdrop (consolation and hope, doug doesn't want to confess bc he fears the response)

-dahlia (means eternal love and commitment)

-myrtle (love)

-tulip ("I declare my love for you")

-rue (regret, maybe if doug wants to confess but doesnt?)

-rosemary (rememberance and wisdom, parkzer traits)

-magnolia (dignity, also parkzer trait)

flowers parkzer could cough out (Some of the flowers on this list are more about how parkzer feels about their relationship than only doug, also how he feels about confessing. idk i wrote this at midnight-):

-columbine (foolishness, but like in an affectionate way towards doug if that makes sense)

-olive (means peace, i feel like parkzer would be more accepting towards a relationship between them, esp since it seems like doug is more affectionate so he has more reason to believe its mutual)

-protea (transformation, the transformation of their relationship throughout the years)

-crocus (cleverness and youthful glee, represents doug)

-edelweiss (courage and daring, also doug)

-heather (represents luck and protection, he feels lucky to know doug)

-laurel (glory, victory, success)

-lily of the valley ("return to happiness", i'd imagine he notices doug's declining mood if they both get hanahaki at the same time)

-mistletoe ("surmounting difficulties", hanahaki isnt fun)

-oak (bravery, parkzer sees doug as brave)

-queen anne's lace (represents sanctuary, he feels safe with doug)

-iris (valor and faith, he has faith in doug)

-buttercup ("you are radiant with charm", represents doug)

-cornflower (hope in love, again i think parkzer would be more hopeful that it's mutual)

-dogwood ("our love will overcome")

-cattail (peace and prosperity)

-jasmine (cheerfulness, represents doug)

repeats (parkzer could also have these but im not rewriting the definitions):

tulip, apple blossom, honeysuckle, bluebell, amaryllis, pansy, zinnia, snowdrop, dahlia.

there's probably more that could be mutual but i'm not writing them all down.

bouquets:

-amaryllis & clematis (be proud of your cleverness)

-apple blossom & pansy (thinking of them)

-buttercup & cowslip (newfound attraction)

-camellia & daffodil (longing for your unrequited love)

-snowdrop & mistletoe (endurance)

-sweet william & honeysuckle (commitment)

-violet & laurel (proud of your accomplishments)

-yarrow & protea (the tides will turn)

-laurel, oak, & edelweiss (bravery in new territory)

-monkshood & cowslip (admire your courage)

-myrtle & dahlia (one true love)

-oak, sweet william, & monkshood (someone you admire)

-snowdrop & carnation (broken heart)

-hawthorn & orange blossom (hope for requited love)

-hellebore & edelweiss (courage in the face of whats coming)

-cornflower & honeysuckle (true devotion)

-iris & clematis (admiration for ingenuity)

-jasmine & crocus (zest for life)

-ladyslipper & hawthorn (hope for a good outcome)

-chamomile & dogwood (love overcomes all obstacles)

-cornflower & sweet william (i will always be true)

-daffodil & clover (hope for change in unrequited love)

-dahlia & myrtle (love and devotion)

-fern & floxglove (secret love)

-gladiolus, anemone & daffodil (unrequited love)

-zinnia, apple blossom, pansy, and eucalyptus (friendship)

-blush rose, cornflower, sweet william, and honeysuckle (courting)

dougzer hanahaki au...

[dailycharacteroption]

Faithful Wanderer (Paladin Archetype)

(art by N-Deed on DeviantArt)

 In lands where evil reigns as an insidious force, such as the Worldwound, or places where the harshness as bred a callous viciousness, such as the Mana Wastes, sometimes discretion is the better part of valor, something that many paladins may chafe at.

While there is a sort of poetic glory to be had for rushing headlong into danger to destroy evil, and either being victorious in arms or victorious by way of proclaiming your defiance against evil, the wise understand that sometimes you have to bide your time and choose the right moment to strike.

It is that discretion that directs the actions of today’s subject, the faithful wanderer paladin!

Whether they learned in a trial by fire or were specifically trained for it, these paladins specialize in keeping themselves hidden in hostile lands, waiting for the right moment to swoop in and deliver divine justice.

While younger and brasher paladins might call them cowards, these paladins survive in enemy territory where others would fall, and there is something glorious about the idea of the lonely wanderer suddenly tossing aside their cloak and reveal the blazing light of good and hope that radiates from within them.

 Surrounded by evil as they are, these paladins focus less on sensing evil and more on learning practical skills of stealth and survival.

Additionally, just as they don’t bother sensing auras, they also learn to suppress their own, at first only appearing to have a normal person’s aura, then later spoofing a false aura based on the dominant alignment of the area, making them invisible to those only sensing good or law, and blending in with the crowd when noticed by beings with wider senses. Furthermore, their other auras do not reach beyond themselves.

True to their origins of fighting fiends and methods of guerilla warfare, these paladins do not smite evil in the traditional sense, but they turn that energy towards hunting and hiding from fiends in equal measure to causing them additional harm. Later on, these offenses expand against the undead and later evil dragons, covering all three classic paladin foes.

A mount would be an additional target, and fancy celestial bonds would be too flashy for what these paladins aim to do, so they always choose a bond with a weapon. Furthermore, when they reach the zenith of their ability, Their damage reduction is lesser but cannot be pierced, they only banish fiends on a critical hit, and their enhancement of their healing only affects self-healing.

This archetype is almost a blending of paladin and ranger, and functions well if you would rather be a hunter of evil than a support tank. Some of their abilities may seem objectively worse than their paladin counterparts, but remember they make up for it with increased skill points, utility bonuses against their prey and the ability to hide from those that can sense their alignment.

 Though their ways differ from those of normal paladins, these wanderers truly evoke the ideals behind being a paladin. After all, they stay true to their faith and to the belief of goodness and kindness as universal truths, despite being surrounded by evil on a regular basis. However, this isolation can make them somewhat estranged from others. However, they are never callous or cold, and often are the kind hand that pulls others out of the depths of despair. Perhaps only other paladins who have seen true evil and the devastation it wrecks on the world can truly understand.

  Most folk have abandoned the Skyscar after the rift to the demon realms opened. While the tide of fiendish invaders has slowed, the land is still ruled by such beings. However, these is one group of natives that have not abandoned their home. The wayangs were already used to concealing their presence from most visitors, and this remains true as they strike from the shadows to preserve their home, led by warrior priests.

 Despite the hand that mortals had in creating the divs, some janni take it upon themselves to destroy their corrupted kindred, accepting the blessings of the goodly gods of the elements to stay hidden from them before delivering purifying justice.

 When the nightwalker Loxhal came to Fangbrother Keep, none were left alive, but there is one who was there who still seeks justice, a skeletal warrior who retains his heart and the spark of the divine. However, the devastation the shadowy fiend brought has taught this undead paladin a lesson in biding one’s time, and so he does, gathering strength and intelligence to march into the blackened gates of his home, perhaps aided by living allies.

[atoasttotheendoftheworld]

Team 8 [ 第8班 / 第八班 - Daihappan ]

Sensei: Itoya Morino Members: Shigeru Aburame / Rouna Inuiwa & Shiroi / Hisae Higa Affiliation: Konohagakure

----

Team 8, also known as Team Morino, is a ninja team from the Leaf Village, consisting of Sensei Itoya Morino and Shigeru Aburame (Shibi Abruame's younger brother) Rouna Inuiwa (of the branch clan of Inuzuka) her faithful wolf-dog Shiroi and Hisae Higa (one of many branch clans of the Hyūga Clan)

Regarded as a Team of geniuses by their own Sensei, who believes they are even more brilliant than he and his analytical mind is and will ever be, they specialize in tracking, searching and locating, blending Higa Hisae's byakugan (albeit of lower strength and power than that of the Hyūga Clan) Aburame Shigeru's bugs and Inuiwa's outstanding sense skills alongside Shiroi's. Becoming collectively a sharp and efficient Team.

However, despite the actual successful missions completed, among peers Team 8 is, due to the presence of branch Clan members and a tendency to denigrate and stigmatize based solely on social status, often named Team Trash. Class-mentality bullying so common that it becomes a habit that, though, Team 8 tries to ignore and, rather, counter by showing their professional competence.

United by shared personal struggles, a genuine and deep friendship has emerged between the three that makes them even more cohesive and resilient. Due also to character differences that well combine and balance each other, from Rouna's self-confident extrovertedness to Shigeru's calm thoughtful introvertedness to Hisae's benevolent and selfless kindness. A respect and flawless mutual understanding that made them, over time, not only an extremely efficient Team, with nearly the highest number of successful missions, but also valorous and fierce chūnin destined to become future superb and brilliant jōnin.

Whose names have already been recommended, at the outbreak of an imminent war, both by their Sensei and other respected members of Konohagakure's ninja community.

[NB: the table data refer to when they are already about 17/18 years old, thus promoted long ago as chūnin and next to become (wanting it) jōnin]

Relatives:

Shigeru Abruame: Shibi's younger brother, Shinju's father, Shino & Torune's uncle Hisae Higa: Neji's mother, Hinata & Hanabi's aunt Rouna Inuiwa: Kakashi's mother Itoya Morino: Ibiki's father

[dwellordream]

“...The most significant links between "Cupid and Psyche" and "Beauty and the Beast" are the mysterious nature of the husband, whose invisibility or bestial appearance is the supernatural effect of divinity or enchantment; the broken tabus, which in all cases concern knowledge of the other or of one's self; a virgin's sexual initiation in both a psycho-familial context, involving sisters, fathers, and mothers-in-law, and a more broadly social one, involving mortals and immortals in the case of "Cupid and Psyche," and merchants and gentry in "Beauty and the Beast"; and the valorization of beauty over pride and vanity. 

Most obviously, the two tales dramatize the reconciling of physical and spiritual beauty in each member of a heterosexual couple, which leads to a physical and psychological transformation—Psyche turns into an immortal, the Beast into a Prince; Cupid grows out of being an enfant terrible, and Beauty is no longer daddy's girl—and an overall balanced union of eros and soul. "Beauty and the Beast" also shares both the heroine's self-sacrificing yet active nature and the dramatic urgency of the bridegroom's disenchantment with the "King Crin" sub-type: Beauty finds a close-to-dead Beast; the forgotten wife arouses her husband's memory on the third and last of the nights she has bargained for.

Thinking of "Beauty and the Beast" in this broader textual network helps make sense of Beast's complex, appealing nature. Though not described, allowing readers and illustrators to join Psyche's sisters in forming the picture of a serpent out of Cupid's invisibility, his "deformitas conceals monstrum" (a wonder, a manifestation), making him admirable rather than repugnant, divine rather than sub-human (Henein 46). While today the Beast is usually read as a warning not to judge by appearance, history and anthropology give us further insight by connecting animals with gods even more explicitly than Apuleius does. As Jack Zipes notes, "the transformation of an ugly beast into a savior as a motif in folklore can be traced to primitive fertility rites" and sacrifices to dragon-like "monsters" (Breaking 8) . 

Cupid's multiple images as "saevum atque ferum vipereum malum" ("dire mischief, viperous and fierce" Apuleius 100), as boy with no manners or respect, as erotic god of love, as invisible presence in the dark, and as faithful husband in the end also map out a number of well-known directions for exploring the "noble Beast" metaphor." Placing "Beauty and the Beast" in its larger folkloric and literary context highlights as well the family's centrality in this narrative. In general, the heroine's emotional and social ties to her family determine her future with her own new family. Though Ruth B. Bottigheimer rightly contrasts Psyche's isolation within the human world to Beauty's bond with her father, in both cases it is the father's doing which delivers the heroine into her new and mysterious situation.

 In Apuleius, the king asks Apollo's oracle how to find a husband for the daughter everyone admires but no one wants to marry; in de Beaumont's narrative, by breaking off a rose from the Beast's garden, the merchant unwittingly initiates the process that will separate him from his beloved Beauty. He could be seen, in other words, as a concealed helper, but certainly both fathers have the role of sender or power in Proppian terms. Either explicitly or through the highly symbolic rose, the narrative announces the heroine's move into a different psycho-sexual and social role through marriage, in many cases arranged marriage. Her adjustment to this role is the rest of the tale's subject. 

She must get to know—but not too quickly—her husband; rethink old ties with her malevolent sisters and her doting father; and, in Psyche's case, negotiate with a mother-in-law and produce a child, the sign of her successful marriage. But what are the social and ideological dimensions of this rite of passage? Comparisons are again fruitful. Marriage is clearly staged as a social contract: in "King Grin," the baker's daughters agree to marry because the pig's royalty seems an adequate reward; in Apuleius, the gods request Psyche's "dreadful wedding" because it will ultimately bring harmony to mortals and immortals (100). "Beauty and the Beast" is more complex, for it enacts several possible solutions to the conflict between the nobility and the middle class in eighteenth-century France. 

For Zipes, the story puts the bourgeoisie in its place. Beauty's marriage to Beast chastises the overly ambitious sisters and rewards Beauty's "innate" virtue, which in de Villeneuve's 1740s version is clearly associated with a rediscovered noble lineage (Breaking 8). As for Gary Alan Fine and Julie Ford, de Beaumont "proposes a distinctly bourgeois solution of a marriage market" by connecting virtue to wealth rather than birth ("The Reflection of Middle-Class Life" 94). In my opinion, resolving this conflict depends on both the writer's and the readers' class allegiance. De Beaumont's text, for instance, offers an aristocratic and a bourgeois perspective on marriage, if only because she was herself an impoverished lady who became a governess, and who assumed she was writing for upper- and middle-class French arid English young girls. A fine line separated gentry and upper bourgeoisie at the time.

Regardless of class value, Beauty is initiated into married life within a patriarchal frame: whether she is a willing object, victim, heroine, or all three, both father and husband benefit from the exchange. Though often reluctant to give Beauty to the Beast, in Andrew Lang's version the father actually suggests her as a replacement for himself. Whatever his level of willingness, the father gains riches and, in the end, happiness. For Beast, the all-important "side" benefit of Beauty's love is the disenchantment that restores him to his rightful place in society. Acquiring Beauty as a wife also grants him beauty as a token within a socio-economic exchange. Her willingness to resign herself to Beast is the necessary condition for the transaction's success. Giving herself up to keep her father's word gives her future husband reason to trust her; in fact, the heroine's momentary betrayal in "Cupid and Psyche" and "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" can only be expiated by sacrificing all and undertaking impossible tasks to gain him back. 

In all texts, the heroine's self-sacrifice and devotion to the male, whether father or husband, contrasts sharply with competitive, untrustworthy traits found in other females. The fairy in de Beaumont's "Beauty and the Beast," for instance, supports Beauty only because she would sacrifice her life to save her father's. Self-effacement and concern for her family are Beauty's virtues; wealth and social position with a prize-male are her reward, but as the object of exchange she has no real control over whether she can retain this reward. Like "Cupid and Psyche" and "King Crin," then, "Beauty and the Beast" represents marriage as a social and ideological institution. While stories like "Bluebeard" expose the failures of marriage to an extreme, "The Search for the Lost Husband" cycle repeatedly reenacts the patriarchal exchange of women, and affirms women's collusion with the system. 

Reading "Beauty and the Beast" along with its folk and literary analogues reveals not only its specific psycho-sexual, familial, arid political implications as a tale of female initiation, but also the construction of its appeal. The representation of Beauty's character helps explain why her role can be so appealing to women readers. The frozen object of male desire, Snow White's only possible development is self-destructive reproduction; Beauty, in contrast, participates in constructing her seemingly well-balanced and joyful future. Like Psyche arid the forgotten wife in "King Crin," she is an active heroine whose physical and psychological journeys provide most of the narrative "suspense" and whose decisions—right and wrong—advance the plot. In all three sub-types, the heroine, however sadly, chooses to go to her invisible or animal husband.

Psyche walks "resolutely" to the top of the hill where she is to meet the "marvelous" husband she obviously equates with death (Apuleius 101). Though the baker's youngest daughter well knows that the royal pig killed her two sisters on their wedding nights, she persuades her father to agree to her own marriage to Crin. And Beauty, though she believes the monster will eat her, sheds no tears when she explains that she "will deliver" herself "up to all his fury" (de Beaumont in Opie arid Opie 187). This dignified, resolute, and courageous character may be the object of an exchange, but she turns her victimization into heroism. Whether swayed by evil counselors, or by her own curiosity to break her promise of "not looking" or by staying away for longer than a week, she takes responsibility and pays dearly for it, especially in the case of Psyche and the forgotten wife. 

The heroine's determination to find her lost husband or to reanimate Beast is admirable—a clear sign of her affection and integrity. But Psyche's journey would not have succeeded if Cupid had not saved her from her unredeemed curiosity: her psychological growth remains somewhat questionable. Beauty's is not. Regret at breaking her promise, concern for the dying Beast, and a desire to show her "gratitude, esteem, and friendship" indicate where her values lie (Opie and Opie 193). Her physical and psychological journey also has a different intensity to it. Beauty does not have to confront the underworld as Psyche does, or the powers of the (super)natural world—the man-eating winds—as the forgotten bride does. 

Though Beast might be threatening, everything in his mysterious palace obeys Beauty. And Beauty's developmental task in this narcissistic and elegant fantasy world is, thus, the opposite of Psyche's or the forgotten bride's. They enjoy their husbands' mysterious nocturnal visits, displaying a sexual attachment not matched by the trust, sensitivity, responsibility, common sense, and intellectual affinities which by today's standards would presumably make for a solid marriage. Beauty's relationship with Beast is solidly built in this way, but her oedipal attachment makes her sexually "immature." These heroines' journeys, therefore, explore different realms of experience, though lor the didactically-inclined minds of eighteenth-century well-educated readers, who were quite likely personally familiar with arranged marriages, Beauty has perhaps the more advantageous starting point.

For all these heroines, however, the courage, determination, and dignity they exhibit on their journeys help them to become sexually and psychologically "mature" women, ready to assume, depending on the tale, the elevated social position of minor goddess or queen. While they certainly "deserve" this position, they seem unaware of what their initiation has required of them. Like the strength of other active fairy tale protagonists, Beauty's heroism bears the marks of collusion with the patriarchal system, developing along the lines of submission and self-sacrifice. Betsy Hearne argues that Psyche's task is obedience and Beauty's is insight (15-16); in my opinion both learn that compliance is the female virtue; their worlds honor and reward. Marriage is their path to success—and an arduous one, with fear and violence along the way, which demands the channeling of desires.

But Beauty gains far more than most fairy tale heroines, active or not, because her submission and sacrifice transform another being, and more specifically, a sexually and/or socially threatening male. A virtuous, insightful, determined woman can change a beast into a person—such is Beauty's power. Ancient and clearly related to our ability to produce new life, this belief in women's transformative powers has been reduced within patriarchal ideology to the popular "kiss a frog" motif, complete with its more realistic posing of the question "How many frogs will I have to kiss before I find a prince?" Undeniably, giving "new life" to another being is glory hard to resist; more disturbingly, the hope of a metamorphosis brought about by her endurance and sacrifice has left many a woman the victim of physical or psychological abuse inflicted by a "beastly" man whose nobility only she can see.

Doing justice to the complexity of this narrative will, therefore, require a merging of its positive significance as the story of a developing heterosexual relationship and its implicitly critical assessment of social norms shaping such relationships. As Betsy Hearne suggests, "Beauty and the Beast" is a multidimensional "metaphor for strong emotions," shaped profoundly by historical and ideological forces, such as a new literary tradition in the eighteenth century, "innovations in book-making and printing" in the nineteenth, and "the influence of psychological interpretations, new media techniques, and mass media distribution" in the twentieth (3-4). Zipes, Bottigheimer, and others have written about which culturally and historically specific views of love and marriage its most famous versions embody. 

I wish to claim that the tale's insidiously patriarchal appeal depends most on the active but self-effacing heroine—a protagonist with agency whose subjectivity is construed as absence and whose symbolic reward is in giving rebirth to another. However, if we redirect our attention to de Beaumont's classic "Beauty and the Beast," its gender politics are not so straightforwardly conservative. …After the prince explains how a wicked fairy made him monstrous and senseless, Beauty is "agreeably surprised" that he and Beast are one and the same. Her civilized and moderate joy, however, hardly matches her earlier emotional outburst: "No, dear Beast, said Beauty, you must not die; live to be my husband; . . . Alas! I thought I had only friendship for you, but the grief I now feel convinces me, that I cannot live without you" (Opie and Opie 194). 

The transformation is magical, arid the prince incarnates an ideal combination of virtue, wit, and looks—but, for the moment at least, Beauty's own wonder when she realizes it is Beast she loves seems to have the stronger fascination. Where, indeed, is Beast? Is transformation "real" or does it result from Beauty's new perception of him? Does the change answer or betray Beauty's desire? And what kind of transformation has she undergone herself? Who has tamed whom, and how have social dynamics shaped this apparently magic moment? The many versions and variants of "The Search for the Lost Husband" suggest a variety of answers. In "Cupid and Psyche" the groom does not change—he has always been a god—but Psyche becomes immortal once Jupiter "authorizes" her marriage to Cupid. 

In de Villeneuve's text, Beauty's transformative powers are limited. Though Beast turns into the prince of her dreams, he does not awaken until his mother arrives to ensure that a union of the two is socially desirable. In the anonymous L'Amour Magot, a nymph courted by a monkey turns into an animal herself: both are punished for their "passion dereglee" (unruly passion). Modern arid postmodern authors continue to exploit and explore the metaphorical power of "Beauty and the Beast" by amplifying and interpreting the problematic nature of Beast's transformation and Beauty's ambiguous response to the prince. Where is Beast—the beast in our loved one and the beast in ourselves— after the transformation?

Fear may raise this question—a particularly appropriate reading if we think of de Beaumont's text as a colonial narrative of othering—yet desire also plays a part. The Beast's disappearance poses problems of perception, but also of an emotional excess which at first the prince's handsome gentility apparently cannot contain. In Jean Cocteau's 1946 movie, for instance, Beauty has a mixed response to Prince Ardent's looks, and when asked if she is happy, she answers: "I'll have to get used to this" (Hearne 82). Is Beast's metamorphosis desirable, then? And whose desire is at work? The finale of the eighteenth-century text calls for fireworks, but Beauty's momentary hesitation hints at a different story, which other folk and literary versions have explored, and modern and postmodern versions delight in investigating.”

- Christina Bacchilega, “In the Eye of the Beholder: “Where is Beast?”” in Postmodern Fairy Tales: Gender and Narrative Strategies

[freydis-freydat]

Marinus Bay was a momentary stop on the map as Freydis intended to carve out another path for herself in her increasingly wider world during what she anticipated would be a short stretch of stability after the fall of Aventia and triumph of safeguarding Haven. There was much to see, research, and explore far and wide across Lysara. She would study whatever artifacts she could uncover regarding Nintra Siotta in the Silverlands, seek out the the man known as Zagreus who had summoned herself and others to defend the wreckage of Hestia’s Cove, revisit the comforting presence of Sakkara in Trivia’s Cove, and navigate the puzzling landscape of the Feywilds again to piece together whatever she could from the Standing Stones and the druid Deimos. She had been told once that she seemed to take upon herself the burden of solving every problem in the world; this laundry list covered only her own self-serving curiosities and objectives.

But first, to assist in training the defenseless to become something fearsome. There was hardly a better tutor for this than the witcher in the center of the current sparring match. Torsten had been a force to be reckoned with since the first time Freydis had laid eyes on him. When she first met the witcher, both of them much younger and less proven than they were now, he had frightened her. Most witchers possessed an unyielding tenacity, a trained intensity that Freydis herself felt would never take home in her. She saw him as a duty-driven man with a singular focus and tunnel vision. As time ticked onward, she had come to know him as a dedicated countryman, a faithful first guard to the hand and newly minted high king Afshin, a dedicated protector of Iskaran civilians (well, most Iskaran civilians), and both a friend and confidant. But the last time she had spoken to him at any length, she had disclosed the threat of her tether to Nintra Siotta, and Torsten was no fool. He had intuited and pieced together his knowledge of the arcane to make many connections Freydis did not disclose to him directly. Now, she felt their relationship had become something cyclical, and he felt as much a mystery to her mind as he did those first days of their acquaintance with one another. Did he think she was a devil now? Soulless and irredeemable? Was she tainted and ruined in his mind?

All of this and more cycled endlessly through the little hamster wheel of her mind as she silently observed the witcher navigate the demonstration with expert skills until she was roused by the sound of a moniker she would have much preferred to abandon. For a moment, the world warped and her fight or flight instincts fought to win over her senses, the way they had time and time again when she had been routinely called to the sparring ring in a seemingly endless string of holmgangs. She recentered herself with a deep breath and stared across the pitch at Torsten. Was he goading her? Or did he lodge the title against her with the weight and intent of a genuine insult? After a beat or two of silence, wordlessly Freydis stepped forward and made her path toward Torsten, silently pulling on and situation her gauntlets. As she approached Torsten in the center of the makeshift ring, she studied his face for any indications of amity or enmity. 

Once in the center of the ring, Freydis glanced at the faces of all four men. Casually, yet intentionally, she tossed the long, thick rope of a braid of her golden hair over her shoulder. Those who knew the legend of Icefang would know the symbolism of her flowing golden mane which served as both trophy and timeline of her victories. Turning her head to one of the young children assisting in the lesson in their own small way she gestured at them to bring her one of the wooden practice swords, which she traded the child–a young girl chosen specifically–her Sword of Dreaming Valor for the wooden practice blade. “I should hate to see any more blood spill than what’s necessary,” she commented simply, her hazel eyes shifting from each of the four men to the next. A moment later, Glaceor found home on her left forearm, his chants of violence and fevered frenzy only just audible to Torsten. “Now,” she uttered, turning her eyes toward Torsten. “How shall we begin?”

@freydis-freydat location: Marinus Bay, Westreach notes: plot call for two characters who haven't interacted yet...

A witcher of ten years and a warrior for longer, Torsten stood in the training yard, his silvered sword gleaming in one hand and his mithril blade held lightly in the other. He'd pledged what he could to the defense of the Queendom with the hope of future returns, but while the refugees took to Marinus Bay, Torsten gathered what warriors were eager to learn and brought them to the training yard. Ymir's Spine was open again and Torsten often thought of the temple they'd found on the outskirts of Hrimthur's Wastelands. Fear is the mind-killer.

The guards and members of the warriors' guild encircled him, their practice weapons raised with determined grips. Torsten gave a small nod, signaling the three boldest to attack. Their hesitation lasted but a moment before they charged, their steps pounding across the dirt like an uneven drumbeat.

The first came straight on, aiming for a high slash to drive Torsten back. Torsten sidestepped fluidly, his mithril blade sweeping low to tap the man’s exposed ankle. “Overcommitted,” spinning to meet the second attacker, who lunged with a thrust aimed at his side. Torsten’s silvered sword snapped into a parry, the impact driving his opponent’s blade wide. He stepped into the guard’s personal space, his pommel striking the man’s wrist with precise force. “Grip too tight. You’ll exhaust yourself before the fight’s begun.” The man yelped, retreating as his weapon clattered to the ground.

The third warrior, bolder or perhaps foolhardier, swung in an arc meant to catch Torsten’s exposed back. Anticipating the move, Torsten pivoted, both blades flashing in unison. The silvered sword locked the attacker’s strike mid-swing, while the mithril blade darted forward, stopping just shy of his neck. “Telegraphed. Your footwork announced your attack long before your blade did.” He stepped back, lowering his weapons as all three men regrouped, faces flushed with exertion and frustration. “In battle, the one who keeps their stance steady while chaos rages has already won half the fight. ” He flicked the dust from his blades with an effortless flourish and motioned for the next group to step forward. "Adapt or die."

"Does the Jarl Icefang wish to provide a demonstration?" Torsten asked, in greeting he crossed a sword over his chest and gave her a light bow - if only to salt the wound a bit. Freydis had a reputation of her own now in Lysara: Jarl and Shieldmaiden, turned one who was taken, one who survived, and now perhaps something else entirely. He gestured around the crowd with his blade, encouraging those who'd come here to train the opportunity to step up before four, unsurprising, men came to stand within the ring. "Do you answer the challenge, Jarl?" Freydis was more than her title or reputation; he understood her preference, but the goad remained a point of interest for him.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

The resurrection of christ is one of the cornerstone claims of christianity right? Without it Jesus cannot be proclaimed god incarnate or something. And at the same time, you and others argue that the resurrection kind of breaks the meaning of him being sacrificed in the first place right? So no matter whether he was resurrected or not, christianity is down (good). I'm wondering if there is a definitive argument to be built upon this single point, or if there's some outcome that 'makes sense' to christians. I'm not that well versed so I was hoping you might explore this a bit more in depth? Cheers

Unfortunately, I don't think there is one, at least, not one that "makes sense" to Xians.

The bible says a lot of stuff, and there's sufficient contradictory things in there to formulate any excuse you want. For example, Jesus says that if you've seen him, you've seen his father, he forgives sins, which supposedly only the Lord can do, and he is supposedly "the word made flesh," therefore divine. On the other hand he's "the word made flesh" as a mortal man, the Lord "gave his only begotten son," the classic quote from John 3:16, and Jesus now sits on his right hand.

To Xians, this was a sacrifice, Jesus giving up his "life," even though it was predestined from "before the world began." A blood-magic human blood-sacrifice as a scapegoat, but still a "sacrifice."

Of god sacrificing god to god to appease god.

The point of a scapegoat is that it has the wrongdoings of the village cast onto it, and it goes out into the wilderness to die of hunger and thirst, and thus those deeds with it. It requires that the creature actually die, or the magic isn't fulfilled. Xianity combines this with a resurrection for "proof" of divinity, even though "killing" an immortal being cancels this out. And even though none of this is historical anyway.

But Xians are motivated to believe because of what John 3:16 concludes: "whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." They're self-interested in this being "true" because they want to be - and believe themselves to be deserving of being - more than the natural creatures they are ("in the world but not of the world"). They want to believe that they are their god's favored children and will return to their true home. Because they're only visiting this dirty little mudball as a test to be withstood and tolerated, since their god has promised them some place better as a reward for this faith.

Unfortunately, a logical argument simply will not work. At least, not to someone who is not already doubting or starting to question, someone open to whether or not the belief can be regarded as "true."

Their eternal life, their presumptive destiny in their god's celestial kingdom (slave colony), their status as the chosen Elect is at stake with this belief, and those with solid "faith" will simply rationalize away the problem, protecting and defending their faith with more faith. It need not make any sense because "god works in mysterious ways." Once their belief has been successfully defended, they'll feel good, their brain will reward them for protecting the belief, reinforcing it further.

That doesn't mean you should just not bother. At least, I don't think so. Somewhere in there, their rational mind is noticing or recording this. Enough tiny little chips can be taken out of a stone that it will eventually yield a crack. Or someone whose life circumstances cause them to question their belief may start to recall the points non-believers have made along the way. A dozen or more problems with their belief that they previously put away suddenly rematerializing and adding to the religious crisis.

You may be able to reformulate this argument using a non-Xian mythology or even pop-culture franchise that the Xian would acknowledge. For example, if Frodo knew he would simply teleport back to the Shire upon its failure, would the journey to Mordor really be a noble, valorous odyssey? But this would likely be dismissed with something like "that's fiction, someone just wrote that," without any hint of self-awareness.

So, yes, there's a valid argument to be made. But no, a Xian will not acknowledge it as a real flaw in the mythology. You'll be told that you "just don't/can't understand" without giving yourself to god/Christ, or that you haven't read the bible, even if you have.

[misslovasstuff]

What flower would I give to BSD characters:

Dazai: 

Ah~ you know, I thought about his for a long time. And I decided that I would give Dazai dandelions. 

The floral meaning of the dandelion is that it is a gift to a loved one that will provide happiness and is a promise of total faithfulness. The common and humble Dandelion has a surprising amount of different meanings. Dandelion leaves have been used to cure many illnesses and pains, but as a flower symbol, dandelion is the symbol of emotional healing. Since they can endure almost any living condition, they represent overcoming every hardship by standing strong and proud.The Dandelion means: Healing from emotional pain and physical injury alike. Intelligence, especially in an emotional and spiritual sense. The warmth and power of the rising sun.

Chuuya:

I’d give him peony.

In Japan they are used as a symbol of bravery, honor and good fortune. Generally though, peonies symbolise prosperity, good luck, love and honour.

Atsushi:

Obviously, daises!

Daisies symbolize innocence and purity. 

Mori, Fyodor and Fukuzawa:

Iris. 

The iris commonly means wisdom, hope, trust, and valor.

Yosano and Koyou 

I’d give them carnations.

The carnation means fascination, distinction, and love.

Kunikida and Akutagawa:

Lotus flower.

The Lotus flower is regarded in many different cultures, especially in eastern religions, as a symbol of purity, enlightenment, self-regeneration and rebirth. Its characteristics are a perfect analogy for the human condition: even when its roots are in the dirtiest waters, the Lotus produces the most beautiful flower.