#this is the only place i can say this without the locals wanting to crucify me

[flytohurt]

.

today is a fucking shitty day to live in america.

i refuse to call myself an american, because i stand for exactly nothing that is happening in this country.

i am so scared of what’s going to happen in the next year while i’m working on getting the hell out 😓 & i am so, so sorry to the rest of the world who also have to deal with the ramifications of this disgusting greed & fascism.

fuck this bullshit oligarchy.

[therobotmonster]

What do you say to the one who killed Ceasar?

Corruption? Infighting? Communications breakdowns?

That aint' how it happened and that ain't how it is.

Pass me a sarsaparilla and I'll tell you how it happened and how it is.

After stamping westward like the vicious cattle they carried as their symbol, Caesar's Legion found New Vegas their downfall. Their martial prowess and seemingly endless numbers found in that place their nemesis, in the classical sense.

They found the Courier.

They didn't know what they found at first. The initial wound was shocking but not unthinkable. Vulpes Inculta went out to make an example of a local settlement called Nipton and never came back. The scouts that went looking for him found a their staging camp slaughtered. Landmines had been put in their sleeping bags. Their watchman was found in pieces.

Every scrap of clothing and equipment was gone. So it was chalked up to raiders. Patrols increased and the Legion moved on.

The loss of Vulpes Inculta's forces was a tiny cut, but a tiny cut can kill if infection sets in. The slaves at Cottonwood cove escaped, though no one could explain how. The Great Khans turned on Ceasar's Legion, somehow seeing through the Legion's plan for them. The prison break that kept the NCR off-balance just... stopped.

Weeks later, the forces at Cottonwood Cove sickened. By the time they found out their camp was contaminated with nuclear waste they were already dead. Their abhorrence of technology meant they had neither the Geiger counters nor the radaway to save themselves.

Prepared caravaners found Aurelius of Phoenix's wasted corpse, bald, covered in radiation burns, withered to a radioactive husk. He was staring up at one of the locals he'd ordered crucified. On his desk was a note saying "I did this. Signed, the Courier. XXXOOO" right next to a pile of human waste with Aurelius's helmet on it.

Enraged, Edward Sallow, the man calling himself Caesar, sent his assassins after the Courier. A squad of four, his second finest men. Then his finest four men. Then his third finest, and his forth. He'd sent his fifth squad before the one of them, the second batch, was found. They were stripped naked, their sun-baked corpses posed humiliatingly in acts of mock-coitus.

The scouts reported dutifully that the squad leader was found sitting atop his own head. The scouts didn't think their commanders needed to know how far down he was sitting.

Sallow watched the reports come in as this phantom cut through his men not with ruthless efficiency, but what appeared to be intentional ruthless inefficiency. The Courier wandered lazily from Legion outpost to Legion outpost without regard to strategy. The NCR would fight with a plan that could be anticipated. They wanted territory, they wanted resources.

As far as Sallow could tell, the Courier just wanted him to suffer.

Nelson's occupation ended in a hail of molotov cocktails and sniper fire. The plot to destroy the monorail ended on the knuckles of a Brotherhood scribe's power fist. As to Dry Wells, and the massive Legion Reinforcements there?

The mushroom cloud rendered a scouts' report moot.

No one really believed that Sallow was stupid enough to invite the courier to his camp. According to the legend, however, that's what he did, thinking he could sway the Courier to his own side with promises of power and wealth.

The legend goes on that the Courier and a vengeful NCR ranger walked in through the gates as welcome guests, only to murder the forces there to the last man. Sallow died, they say, begging. The Courier butchered him with his honor guard's machete, just like the livestock he chose as his symbol.

Sallow, it seems, had been right about what the Courier wanted.

That's pure myth-making, of course. The idea that an itinerant hero hopped up on chems and a vengeful NCR sniper could kill their way through an entire, alerted camp on their own is absurd, power armor or not. It was an obvious coup by Legate Lannius that he blamed on the Courier. It did him little good, as he ruled the Legion for mere weeks before the second battle of Hoover Dam.

Barely literate raiders in football pads and machetes do not fare well against against Vertibirds and Securitrons, it turns out.

They say that it ended there. With the heads chopped off the proverbial brahmin, the Legion crumbled from a collapse of leadership and operational control, with rival raiders, the NCR, and slave uprisings killing their 'empire' via a thousand cuts. That's the official story.

That's a bigger pile of crap than the one on the Aurelius's desk. The cut that killed the Legion was Nipton and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. The few survivors of the Legion's Hoover Dam forces thought the Courier would stay in their neon kingdom.

They did not.

They marched East, the Courier and their warriors: Arcade Ganon the Doctor of the Apocalypse, Lily the Nightkin who they call Shadow of Death, the Ghoul Gunslinger Raul who never misses, the Sniper Boone who never forgives, Veronica the fallen scribe, and Rose Cassidy? She's just plain ornery. They marched with a squad of twenty Securitrons at their back and an army of silent, deadly ghosts.

They marched through Arizona, severing Pheonix from settlement after settlement, starving the great bull before descending upon it. When Pheonix fell, they didn't stop. I know because that's how I'm free today. I know how Ceasar's Legion died. I saw one of its deaths with my own eyes in my own village.

When each Legion settlement falls, as the red-bull banners burn atop the naked corpses of those legionaries who make the same mistake Vulpes Inculta made so long ago and far away, the captured slavers that call themselves an empire are gathered in a line leading to the Courier's tent.

Each one is brought, in turn, to the Courier. They stand, a growling half-robot dog at their left hand, a laser-wielding eyebot at their right, as the ex-legionary is commanded to kneel. They obey, as the command comes from behind them. There stands Boone, a gun once belonging to Joshua Graham in his right hand.

There's a moment of silence. Just as the first beads of sweat begin to roll down the prisoner's face, the courier pulls up not a machete, nor a gun, but a simple wooden sign.

"Say it." The courier says-

-and listens for the wrong answer.

[beatrice-otter]

Where are you getting all this info on Christianity and the Roman Empire from?

I have a Masters of Divinity. One of the required components of that, at least at the school I attended, was an in-depth study of Christian history and theology. Which means you have to study a fair amount of European political history from the Romans to today, because otherwise Christian history will be incomprehensible. In addition to that, my undergrad degree was in history.

There has been a LOT of scholarship in the last hundred years about what, exactly, was going on in the early church and how did things change when they got Imperial patronage and power. Both examining ancient records and also a lot of archaeological study of what early churches and early Christian art can tell us about them.

Constantine was an interesting guy. So was his mother, Helena (later Saint Helena). She was fairly low-born, and a Christian, and obviously a major influence on him and much of his Christianization efforts were done through patronizing her work. Despite his mother being a Christian, Constantine didn't grow up as one; he at least dabbled in the Mithraic rites as a young man (which was fairly standard for an army officer; Mithraicism was very popular in the Roman army, much more popular than Christianity was). There's a lot of argument about how much of Constantine's Christianity was genuine and how much was a political ploy, but my feeling is that it was probably both. He didn't actually get baptized until he was on his deathbed. There are a lot of possible reasons for that; one is that it allowed him to court the bishops' support without submitting to their authority, forever dangling the reward of an officially Christian emperor in front of them to get them to compromise in hopes of getting him to convert. Another is that some Christians in that period believed that your sins would only be forgiven ONCE, at your baptism--so any sins you committed after baptism might damn you to hell. To prevent this, you waited to get baptized until you were about to die and couldn't possibly commit any other sins, so you would die in a state of grace.

Saint Helena was quite a character. Once Constantine became Emperor she traveled around Judea and Turkey and Greece (all the places that Christianity had flourished so far) dropping lots of money on local Christian churches and building new churches wherever something momentous had happened. And a lot of the time, picking a spot and saying "this is where such-and-such happened." Because the early church didn't write much down! Writing materials were extremely expensive and the early church was poor. It had been three centuries since Jesus died, they legit did not know where exactly a lot of things had happened. Where had the disciples been buried? Who knows! Where was Jesus crucified? somewhere off in that direction, we think?

That was not acceptable to Helena. She would show up, wave a bunch of money around, and wouldn't you know it! Within a couple of days they would dig up some forgotten record and locate whatever she wanted to find! Or, even better, someone would have a vision that conveniently showed what she wanted. It was, um, quite something. I've always wondered how much of it was genuine information and genuine visions, how much of it was greed, and how much of it was fear (pissing of the Emperor's mother is not generally a good thing to do when the Emperor cares about and supports her).

[spiritsoulandbody]

#DailyDevotion Don't Fall For The Delusion. Delight In The LORD.

#DailyDevotion Don't Fall For The Delusion. Delight In The LORD. Psalm 37 Don't get upset about evil people or jealous of those who do wrong. 2Like grass they soon wither and fade away like a green plant. It seems that we really need to hear this throughout all ages. Evil people do evil things and seem to live without regret. They seem to get away with everything, including murder. They try to control us and the world around us, imposing rules on us they themselves do not obey. If they are on a more local level, they often seem to engage in things that look like fun but are sinful and nothing bad ever seems to happen to them. The LORD tells us here not to get upset about them or be jealous of them. You don't see their end and you do not know what torments the LORD places in them because of their wrongdoing. We are told, like the grass, they will soon wither and fade away. Their lives at best are an illusion. 3Trust the LORD and do good; live in the land, practice being faithful. 4Delight in the LORD, and He will give you your heart's desire. Instead of focusing on the wicked, David directs us to trust the LORD and do good. He directs us to live and the land and practice being faithful. Trusting in the LORD is not always easy. It requires us to continue to do good when it looks like all we are being rewarded with for our good is evil. Such is the life of being a disciple of Jesus who tells us to pick up our cross and follow Him. We follow Him to Golgatha where He is crucified and dies. It looked like all Jesus got for all His goodness is an excruciating death. We may experience that many days and many times. It will require much practice in being faithful. Jesus though rose from the dead and is seated at the right hand of power. So David says, “Delight in the LORD and He will give your your heart's desire.” First comes our delighting in the LORD, in all His thoughts and all His ways. Sometimes we may delight in the LORD in all the good things He bestows upon us. Sometimes, we may have to delight in the LORD as we join our LORD Jesus Christ in His suffering. Peter tells us in his first epistle, ch. 4, “13But as you share Christ's sufferings, be happy so that you will also be full of joy when His glory will be revealed.” The LORD will give you your heart's desire when you delight in Him. Mind you, what you heart desires is going to different when you are delighting in the LORD than when your heart is set of evil, wicked things. I would think, on my best days delighting in the LORD, that my hearts desire is to see God and experience His good and faithful presence. My heart's desire is to no longer fall into sin and shame. My heart's desire is to live in a world where sin, wickedness, evil, iniquity and the like no longer exist. Would a bigger house, a nicer care, a fuller bank account be nice? I imagine it would be. But I don't think I'd be satisfied with those things. What I want is what those things make me feel for a short period of time. What I want to feel ultimately and for forever, can only be provided by the LORD Jesus Christ and His grace and mercy to me. The same is true for you as well. The LORD then will have to change our hearts and minds and conform them to His will through His Word and Sacrament. Then I will delight in Him all the more and desire and want what He desires and wants to give to me. Merciful God and Father, give a heart and mind that can perceive Your reality so we don't get jealous of evil people but rather delight in You Son Jesus Christ. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen Read the full article

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 4

Y/n's TattleCrime article gives Will and Hannibal some insight on the Baltimore Butcher's next moves.

@deadman-inc-bikeshop

Trigger warnings: christianity, graphic descriptions of violence

"Remember the Stabbath! Baltimore Butcher victim tells all." Will read aloud. "A TattleCrime exclusive interview with survivor [F/N] [L/N] sheds light on the twisted reality of Chase Mulvaney."

"So Freddie Lounds got her hooks in [L/N], huh?" Hannibal observed, glancing over Will's shoulder. He didn’t seem surprised.

"I don't entirely blame her." Will said, not looking up from his laptop. He was fixated on the article. "A lot of what she had to say would not be well received by the general public."

"She's vulgar?" Hannibal asked.

"She's enlightened." Will corrected. "But, yes. She's also pretty crass."

"Have you ever heard the myth of Cassandra?" Hannibal inquired. He had a way of turning any conversation into a classics lecture.

"The ancient Greek prophetess?" Will said, peering over his glasses. "Whom nobody listened to?"

"It seems that Miss [L/N] here is our Cassandra." Hannibal answered. "And that would make Freddie Lounds the god Apollo."

"Delegitimizing her prophecy." Will finished. "By publishing it via a seedy tabloid."

"We must learn from history, myth or not." Hannibal sat down in the chair across from Will's. "We have to listen to Cassandra."

Will took off his glasses and rubbed his temples. "If only it were that easy to convince Jack. He's already determined to pass this one off to the Drug Enforcement Administration."

"What can you tell me about this killer from [L/N]'s testimony?" Hannibal asked.

Will fixed his eyes back on the computer. "He's not local. He's from the south, probably Georgia."

"What makes you say that?" Hannibal probed, thoroughly enjoying himself.

"She was trying to take his drink order and he apparently had a strong, almost visceral reaction to the restaurant carrying Pepsi products instead of Coca-Cola products." Will explained. "Coca-Cola was invented in Georgia, so native Georgians tend to have pretty strong brand loyalty as a sort of local quirk."

Hannibal's eyes found another strange, out of place passage. "I assume the same can be said about this McDonald's question?"

"Chick-fil-A is one of those crappy regional chains most associated with the conservative Christian south." Will continued. "It's a dogwhistle. He was asking for her political stance without mentioning politics."

"The waitress didn't want to risk her tip," Hannibal concluded. "But she had too firm a grip on her principles to lie."

"I'm sorry, are we analyzing the killer, or the waitress?" Will said, dryly. "Can we please focus?"

"He purposefully spared the waitress's life." Hannibal commented. "He could have tried to slit her throat but he went for her hand instead. You don’t want to know why?"

“He didn’t spare her life.” Will corrected, fidgeting with a strand of his hair to help process his thoughts. His eyes scanned the computer screen. “[L/N] says that right before he plunged the knife into her hand, he said ‘do you want to know what Jesus felt when you pierced him’.” 

“When the Romans crucified Jesus of Nazareth, he didn’t die immediately.” Hannibal added. “He was left to die of exhaustion. Mulvaney didn’t have a cross on hand, so he had to improvise.” 

“And he didn’t anticipate a doctor would be in the restaurant to perform first aid before she bled out.” Will completed the thought and shut the laptop. “The waitress was his Eve. His original sinner. And he was avenging his god.” 

“The other victims were diners.” Hannibal recalled. “People celebrating the holiday. He consciously chose to attack only one member of staff.” 

“The other victims were church-goers. They had witnessed the resurrection.” Will stood up abruptly and began to pace mindlessly around the room to collect his thoughts. “They had a chance at repentance. Slitting their throats would have killed them relatively painlessly, but the waitress deserved to suffer.” 

Hannibal folded his hands in his lap. “You think he’s going to return for the waitress?”

Will’s gaze found the laptop on the coffee table. “If he wasn’t before, he definitely will now. I can’t imagine he would have wanted his original sinner to speak out. Especially not to call him a-- what did she call him?”

An amused smile crossed Hannibal’s face. “A sniveling husk of a man, castrated of his personhood by decades of faith-based psychological abuse.” 

The realization hit Will all at once. “Holy shit, he’s going to come back for her.” 

Hannibal stood up from his seat, as he usually did at the natural end of a conversation. “You still need to convince Jack Crawford that this is the responsibility of the Behavioral Science Unit.” 

Will’s head fell. “You trying to get rid of me, Dr. Lecter?” 

“If I could stay, I would." Hannibal reached for his coat. "But I have dinner reservations."

[michaelsheenpt]

Michael Sheen's beautiful love letter to Port Talbot

The actor takes us, and Jennifer Saunders, on a trip down memory lane as he shows us where he played footy and worked in Wales' first drive-thru

Actor Michael Sheen has done something tonight no-one has ever done before.

He managed to make Port Talbot look awesome, without saying that the steelworks looked like Blade Runner.

Now, I'm not being facetious - ok a little - but Port Talbot often has the face only a mother could love, and you can apply that cliché to many parts of Wales - did you see the valleys in the grip of the pit heads and chimneys? I'm from Treorchy, I'm allowed to say that.

We, and Michael, know that where we come from is pretty awesome and his return to live in Wales after two decades away is testament to that appreciation.

It's often said that we can only appreciate where we come from once we have either been away, or are shown it through someone else's eyes.

Those eyes actually belong to Jennifer Saunders. Michael is her guest on her one-off special, Jennifer Saunders' Memory Lane with Michael Sheen, which follows her and the Quiz, Staged and Prodigal Son actor bombing around Michael's favourite parts of the country in a swanky Jaguar E-type, with the latter in an even swankier waterproof cape.

The programme starts with waving tara to parents Irene and Meyrick, fantasising about having a ski lift to get back up the hill to his home and visiting the pitch where he played most of his games for Baglan Boys club - the Evans Bevan Field.

"I was obsessed with football," said Michael. "I played for Baglan Boys Club at the Evans Bevan pitch. My memory of playing football here was the stinging feel of rain on 10-year-old legs.

"I used to feel a mixture of joy at playing and utter terror. One [because] wanted to play as well as possible and also there was always a sense of latent violence constantly," he laughs.

"There was one famous game, [I was]probably around 12/13 and someone started to have a fight, in the middle of the pitch, and we had been told that if a fight starts you have to find your opposite number.

"Everyone started looking round for their opposite number and our goalkeeper, I believe his nickname was 'Unky' he ran, I remember watching him run, all the way across the pitch to hit the other goalkeeper.

"The match was abandoned."

Not perhaps a rose-tinted view, depends who you are really, but he added: "To this day if I can't sleep I imagine myself on this pitch and certain goals."

It wasn't all football and fighting, though, he also tantalisingly asks the Ab Fab creator: "Would you like to see the site of Wales' first drive-thru burger bar?"

You can't say that Michael Sheen doesn't show visitors all the good places, so off they went to a disused patch of land off the A48 where Burger Master once stood, a drive-thru restaurant that opened in 1988 and where Michael worked while waiting to audition for drama school.

Okay, so you might be thinking 'how is this a love letter to Wales?'

But it's the funny, warm, vivid memories Michael shares with the backdrop of sweeping aerial shots of the lush, green and rust brown backdrop of Port Talbot and golden sandy beaches of Aberavon, the site of the culmination of his huge theatre event , The Passion, in 2011.

And it's the trip to Hay-on-Wye that really shows just how much Wales means to Michael, a place he requested to visit one birthday and then hankered to return ever since.

As the pair leave Port Talbot to the intro of Super Furry Animal 's Juxtaposed with U and weave up towards the near-border town via the A4059 (the moor-road that takes you from Penderyn to the Beacons Reservoir) and the A470, the show, and Michael's memories just invoke the wow-factor you get every single time you travel that route.

From dodging the ponies and sheep, to the view back down to the Cantref reservoir and the stone tower that sits at the tip of the Beacons Reservoir, if Welsh expats weren't homesick before, they definitely were by then.

The 51-year-old actor said: "I remember the first time we ever went to Hay-on-Wye and I was looking out the window and I'd never seen landscape like it, it wasn't just fields and I remember just going into bit of a trance and my imagination going wild.

"The first time I saw that [stone tower] I thought I was in Lord Of The Rings and some sort of wizard lived there."

Back at Port Talbot a visit to the Plaza Cinema - which is currently in the middle of being regenerated - reminds Michael of going to see Star Wars, people dancing in the aisle to Grease and flicking Maltesers down to the people below. Jennifer asks him if seeing the places from his past changing and disappearing is the reason he returned home to Wales.

"It is a weird thing to see the old footsteps just disappear it has forced me to think about how fortunate I'd been," he answered. "Suddenly it makes you realise that things aren't there forever and unless you fight for them they can go.

"I found myself starting to do more things around [on a] community level and I thought 'I just want to be here now.'

"I'd got myself to a point in my career where I had a lot of resource, not just financial, other resources and I want to use that to at least do my bit to try and make sure that the people where I come from have the same opportunities, at the very least , like I had."

The episode ends with a trip to Aberavon seafront, where The Passion came to it's grand end back during Easter 2011.

After making a joke - "We are now approaching the roundabout I was crucified on, not many people can say that' - the master impressionist who's taken on a mastered Kenneth Williams, Tony Blair (x3), David Frost and Brian Clough, talks about the National Theatre Wales production which involved thousands of locals as well as the actor as the lead character. And he gets emotional.

"It was incredibly emotional," he said, noting that the images projected behind him on the cross were home videos, memories from Port Talbot in years gone by.

"Home videos, events from the past, my mum and dad's wedding, over the years of developing it I kept a list of people who had died and events that used to be put on in the town that weren't put on anymore, things that has been lost."

Explaining the final words of The Passion: "It has begun!" he told Jennifer how important his home is, and why he returned and you can feel the authenticity in his strength of feeling. He said: "It was the story of the rebirth of the town. The story of The Passion was always the story of this town. I remember thinking I will never do anything as meaningful as this again.

"It changed my life in all kinds of ways, the time I spent working on it I developed a new relationship with this place. I got to know it in a way I never knew it growing up here and it pulled me back."

You can see Jennifer Saunders' Memory Lane on ITV player.

SOURCE

[vydante]

Restart | Avengers x Male! Reader | 9

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Avengers x Male! Reader (romantically: multiple)

Plot: Dr. Strange said there was only one possibility of winning the battle against Thanos.

But when (Name) is forced into the past and into his younger body, he’s suddenly given the chance to start over and prevent the future from happening again.

So which route are you going to take? Are you going to risk the future and take preventative measures, or live life with the Avengers for the next 4 years, knowing what will soon come?

A/N: Long- 5.29k words. Lmao did y’all miss me? Also, completely in POV of future timeline, so no actual (Name) ‘till next chapter. Granted, next chapter we get to meet someone pretty chill, so there’s that. So... yah. 

It's safe to say that it's been a complete shit storm on Earth, Carol muses behind her cup of coffee.

Of course, it's not just Earth that's undergoing complete mass hysteria from the reversed blip. Other planets and societies beyond the Terran solar system were facing the after-effects of what had happened, too- and it doesn't help that Earth was so cut off from the intergalactic systems, so nearly everyone else didn't know of what had happened.

So least to say, she was quite busy trying to maneuver her way through the galaxies (with help, of course) to try and spread the word of what had happened.

Regardless though, she'd thought that after weeks and weeks, perhaps maybe the news would've slowed down a little bit. And it seemed to have, just a little bit, but for every time news slows, another wave comes in.

The first wave was about, obviously, the reversed blip. Of course, that one didn't have enough time to slow down as the next wave came around. The death of Tony Stark was announced a week after the fight- just so his family and friends had enough time to mourn in privacy. Then the next one about the sacrifice Natasha Romanoff made- though it was a smaller wave, it was one that still had a huge impact. And for a while, it seemed like that was that- weeks pass, and just barely had the craze around the reverse blip (Lord, there's got to be another name for this, Carol thinks) lessened.

And then (Name) Stark is pronounced dead.

To say the headlines erupted once again in a mad-dog-like frenzy would be an understatement. Hell- Carol would even dare say that it was almost as talked about as his father's death. Of course, it was in part due to, well, (Name) fucking Stark being pronounced dead. A man of his status was bound to capture the headlines with his passing for weeks, just like his old man.

But it was also in part credited to something else: the timing and nature of his death, or lack thereof.

Carol remembers watching the SI press conference a couple of hours ago, just as it finished broadcasting. She was a few light-years away from Earth as she heads back for check-in.

(New message, 3 hours ago: Maria R.

'Hey, I think you might wanna watch this before you come back to Earth. Just broadcasted. It's about (Name) Stark.'

Carol pauses, midway through drying her hair as she's about to put her uniform on. She'd be lying if curiosity wasn't eating at her, so she still clicks on the link Maria had sent her.)

(Name) was... A prominent figure within Earth's society. Being the CEO of Stark Industries (a massive company, so she's been told), a superhero/ Avenger, and the world's 'longest-running most eligible bachelor' (Carol scoffs- why is that one of the main things the public likes to point out so much?) definitely lands you underneath the people's microscope more often than not.

They'd pick at every nitty-gritty detail one by one and shred into it without mercy.

And even in his death, they did the same thing. Unsatisfied, they practically crucified Stark Industries and the Avengers after SI’s press conference. 

She glances around her, the local tavern loud with nothing but one word on their lips: Stark.

'Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he died from like, an inside job or something.'

'Died too young, man. The kid had so much potential to be great... May God rest his soul.'

Carol shakes her head. They weren’t wrong- from what she’s seen working with (Name), he was a hard worker, that’s for sure. Sighing, she left a tip at her table and quietly left.

Hopefully, for Earth, they’ll come to find some peace soon.

"You okay, punk?”

'No,' Steve fiddles with nail absentmindedly, 'I'm not.'

That's his honest answer to the question. He wants to scream and shout to the world that no, he is not okay whatsoever, but he knows that's one of the many luxuries he'll never get to have anymore- even to the people closest to him. Too much of a burden no one would want to carry.

So, instead, he smiles at Bucky with more teeth than necessary, face straining ever so slightly. 

"Sure thing, Buck'. Are you?"

The brunette offers him a small, sympathetic smile back. It's not the same as Steve had remembered- it used to be confident and relaxed, but nowadays it's always tense and careful. But then again, it wasn't like Steve was the same man either, so he'd be hypocritical to expect the same man from his memories from his old pal.

"I'm managing."

It was always something along the lines of that. Never an okay, never a not okay. Just... managing. Short and simple.

It's scary how much Bucky's reserved presence reminds him of how Steve himself used to be, back when he was wide-eyed and naive to what the world has become without him. He didn't really feel like he was actually there and knowing how separated he and the rest of the world were made him want to close in on himself.

On one hand, he'd never wish that feeling of emptiness on anyone. But on the other hand, he's almost relieved he's not the only one who's felt so completely alone in this world anymore.

Almost.

Steve doesn't say anything as Bucky comes over to where he was in the living room and sits adjacent to him on the couch. For a brief moment, they say nothing as the TV plays the news station. Steve pretends to watch the news, but he can't find the energy to care about what's going on in the news. It's all the same thing nowadays: Blip, Blip, Avengers, Blip, Starks...

Settling down in his seat, he lets his mind drifts off other places instead.

It drifts to a cramped, moldy apartment that was too small and cold for the average person, but just enough for him. 

It drifts to an ugly tower, placed right at the epicenter of one of the most beautiful yet terrifying cities he's ever been in. Charming, and in every way a wonderful representation of the future.

It drifts to the loud yet comforting hum of the inside of the quinjet, sailing ever so smoothly into the night sky after a successful mission. Bruised, but satisfied.

It drifts to a sly redhead with one too many daggers slipped around her person, sitting next to a tired brunette wrapped up in blankets. Deadly, yet delicate. Open, yet intimate.

It drifts to a mystical long-haired blonde and an erratic billionaire, sitting together and joking about as if they hadn't just fought neo-nazis no less than an hour ago. He remembers a rush of fondness glossing over him as he passively observes them.

It drifts to a pair of warm, mirth filled eyes as they listen attentively to Steve ramble on and on about the war as if he had hung the moon. He relishes in the spotlight of their monopolized attention.

It drifts to the nights where life's not as unbearable as it usually is, as he sits across from a usually aggressive young adult quietly chatting about books they've read together: their own secret club. Warm, he reconsiders, comfortable. Content.

It drifts to quiet nights where he tries to focus on the ceiling rather than the erratic beats of his heart, images of his own teammate grinning tiredly at him, lips bruised, split, and inviting. Guilt courses through his veins, but so does heat.

Steve's mind drifts through lots of things before Bucky murmurs into the air nonchalantly.

"It's about Stark, isn't? The son?"

Steve holds back a flinch, praying that Bucky doesn't notice the red crawling up his neck. He wouldn't have been embarrassed if Bucky had meant Tony- of course, Steve misses him dearly- but for Bucky to go straight to you instead is mildly humiliating, to say the least. He can feel Bucky's eyes burning holes into his skull. It'd be no use trying to deny it, so Steve conceded with a reluctant nod.

"That obvious?"

"It's written all over your face."

Steve doesn't offer to say more, so Bucky continues, quieter this time.

"He seemed like a great kid."

Steve huffs with a small amused smile. He thinks back to when you two spent Valentine's Day together- not as a couple, obviously, but you claimed that the two loners on the Avengers team should have each other's backs. He chuckles absentmindedly. You two did nothing but watch movies and critique them all night.

Granted, it was more one-sided as he spent the whole night listening to you go on and on about how objectively, the Hunger Games books were far better than the movies, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. It was nice to hear you talk, especially when it's about something so trivial but important to you.

"One of the best," Steve half-heartedly offers. 

"Tell me 'bout him." Bucky isn't looking at the TV anymore as his eyes are trained on Steve's.

Steve shrugs with a sigh.

"What more can I say that hasn't been said already?"

Ever since the SI press conference, countless of people came out to say great things about you, as they did with Tony. Countless of people praised you, especially with your efforts to help society get back on their feet ever since the blip. Even random people gave their one anecdote with you, whether it be a barista that had served you or folks at Morgan's daycare center whenever you picked her up.

Nothing but words of praises and kindness for you.

Bucky hums, understanding what he means. It wasn't like he hadn't looked at the news as of recently, either. For every 10 headlines that are published, chances are 9 of them have at least one mention of a Stark, whether it be the senior or junior.

They sat in silence once more, something Steve noted as a reoccurring theme between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it did make Steve's skin crawl, hoping for the other to say something just once.

"... You were sweet on him, aren't you?"

Though, maybe this was the one time he wished Bucky would've just stayed silent.

It would be horrifying to hear someone accuse him of being in love with his own (ex-) teammate if he hadn't already come to terms with it. Still, it's unnerving to hear someone pinpoint his feelings within a matter of a week or two when it had taken him up until it was too late to figure it out.

"Did it matter?" Steve runs a hand through his hair, almost as if it were a defense mechanism, but he insists it's not, "It's not like he was interested in me, anyways... Not especially after..."

Steve laughs quietly, almost bitterly so. If he thought he had any chance with you before, he sure as hell threw that chance straight in the garbage the moment he locked eyes with you at the airport. And it sure as hell didn't help when he had practically rag-tag teamed up against your own dad.

"Besides... He's a man of the future, Buck. He's so... so bright compared to everyone else. I can't- I don't have much to offer. I'm just- all I'm good for is fighting."

He sighs, and he'll deny it if anyone comments on how resigned it sounded.

"Not to mention, there're other people that he'd be happier with. People that wouldn't- wouldn't hurt him," 'Like you did,' his subconscious bitterly reminds him. And he wasn't wrong- there were other people you could be wonderful with.

You and Queens already had some chemistry, from what Steve's heard in the air. There was never anything substantial, but he'd pass by a few newspapers mentioning you and Spider-Man spotted together more often than not. You two would've been cute, Steve reluctantly admits. He wouldn't even be surprised if you two were dating.

Then there were a few others, too. Surprisingly enough, he saw you and King T'Challa, of all people, together too often in the New York Times, and even Wakanda's own news websites. His Highness' explained it was only ever about the Accords, but Steve wasn't so blind as to not notice how much more genuine T'Challa's smile seemed when you were brought into the conversation.

There was also Thor, too. You stopped talking to the rest of the Avengers save a select few after the initial blip in 2018, so there wasn't any new thing between you and Thor, but Steve reminisces when he'd catch you joking around with Thor and teasing the poor God. If not lovers, you two were most definitely good friends. Steve hates the fact that he's exceptionally happy at the prospect of you and Thor being just friends.

Not to mention the other seemingly boundless amount of people who you'd make a great couple with. Maybe it was just Steve being excessively attentive when it came to you, or maybe it was because everyone's eyes just seemingly happen to gravitate to you, no matter if there's hundreds of people in the room at the same time.

Bucky sighs and mutes the TV. Steve gives him a questioning look, but Bucky only raises an eyebrow back as he looks at him straight on.

"Those just sound like excuses. Never took you for a coward."

Steve bristles.

He'll admit that he's a lot of things. Frustrating, thick-headed, and quick to anger. And knowing other people, they have a whole list to add on to those too, whether it be positive or negative. But one thing he's never been was a coward.

"I'm not- look, I just know a lost fight when I see one, okay? He just- wasn't interested in me, and that's fine. Hell- he's probably not even into men."

Steve's mind lingers back to a picture lying in your old room, back when he used to come visit you just to say goodnight, or to ask you to join him in his morning jog. He never brought up the picture, rationalizing that it was too invasive of a question. You were with a girl- both of you seemed quite young- but it was obvious that you two were more than friends judging by the way you held her and the very obvious hickey on your neck.

His ears burn, and he's not sure if it's with embarrassment or envy.

"But you don't know that, though, do you? You ever asked him any of that? If he was into fellas? If he was into you?'"

Steve tears his eyes away from Bucky's stare, feeling his eyes burn into his skull.

Sure, he never asked you outright anything Bucky had mentioned, that much was obvious. And sure, even entertaining the (pleasant) idea that you were into men, it didn't take a genius to guess that you absolutely loathed Captain America. It was obvious, too. Especially ever since the 'scandal' of you deleting any tweets or photos you had uploaded that Steve was in. 

(Of course, you deleted any photos the Rogue Avengers were in, but that didn't make the stinging hurt any less when Steve had found out.)

Bucky sighs and turns the sound back on. There was a tension in the air between them, but Bucky beat Steve from saying something as he speaks up.

"And the whole thing 'bout you knowing a lost fight when you see one?"

Steve raised an eyebrow. Bucky half-smirks.

"Not the Steve Rogers I know."

He gently punches Steve's shoulder and ruffles his hair, much to Steve's amused annoyance.

"The Steve Rogers I know would've charged headfirst into a battle, even if it was just him against the world. Oh wait- you already tried doing that."

Steve rolls his eyes and playfully shoves Bucky. The amount of razzing he had gotten from Bucky- and others, too, like Sam and Bruce (his heart curls, knowing that Natasha would've been among them as well, telling Steve off for trying to pull a 'bull-headed' move)- was more than enough for Steve to feel bad anymore at this point.

"Shut it." Steve jests.

They fall into a comfortable silence again, though this time Bucky turns back on the TV to a low volume. Steve glances at Bucky, who's got his chin rested absentmindedly on his hand.

"You know... You're taking this awfully well."

Bucky pauses, peering at Steve with a raised eyebrow.

"Taking what?"

"Me bein'," Steve pauses, trying to find the right words before giving up, "Er, into ladies and fellas."

Bucky doesn't say anything for a solid minute, and before Steve was about to start rambling, trying to just get Bucky to say anything, the brunette speaks up, but timidly so.

"It's... not somethin' I ever thought about, y'know? You bein'- bein' into guys, I mean."

He sighs and runs a hand through his shaggy hair. He keeps his eyes glued onto the TV with a soft gaze, so distant that Steve wants to know what he's really thinking about.

"We just... Never talked about it. Never... Never gave it a thought. I'd be lying if I said I was 100%, er, up to speed with it."

Bucky pauses mid-sentence. He waves his hands and flickers his attention to Steve for just a split second, almost as if he's nervous about what he's saying.

"Not the bein' gay thing, or whatever. Just... How open people nowadays are with that stuff."

Steve unclenches his jaw, not even realizing it had been clenched this whole time. It wasn't something that Steve had thought would be new to Bucky, and he almost feels dumb for not realizing it sooner. Hell, even when Steve himself had been defrosted, it shocked him that something as gay relationships were accepted now. Not that he was against it- but to see that the world had progressed like that without him made him hurt less whenever he thought too hard about the old times.

"Oh, Buck..."

Steve places an encouraging hand on Bucky's shoulders, and he almost seems to sag into it.

"Back then, you'd practically be crucified if you were caught."

Bucky's eyes are unfocused, lips pressed in a firm line. Steve doesn't say anything since he doesn't even know what to say to that.

Bucky, seemingly haven snapped out of it, smiles; though, it looks more like a grimace in Steve's opinion.

"Just- give me some time, 'kay? I'll come round sooner or later. Just... It's all still a lot, even after years of bein' here..."

'To the 21st century,' the words lingered on his tongue. Steve sure knows how that feels, to be overwhelmed by the new world. It's almost suffocating, knowing how much you've missed out on, and how different everything is now. It's like drowning, really.

Surrounded by so much, too much, and at one point it even feels like Steve's being dragged down further and further away from the surface no matter how much he tries swimming up. There's no one there to save him, either. No one to dive their hand down into the waters, no one to hold onto as they pull him back up to the surface.

It's just Steve, alone, in a bottomless ocean, drowning. And it's constantly filling up and up and up and God all Steve just wants to do is get away from there and be able to breathe.

Steve pats his shoulders, pulling him in for a side-hug as Bucky returns the gesture. He playfully ruffles the blonde's hair, much to Steve's annoyance, and gives him a lopsided smile that makes the tension in Steve's shoulder loosen.

"B'sides, you're still my Stevie. Not like you've sprouted horns and started killin' people."

Steve rolls his eyes but doesn't comment on that. Once again, they fall into a comfortable silence, though Steve's shoulders feel unexplainably lighter than it has in days.

The sun's almost gone by the time Steve gets home from the group therapy session he was at. It was the same old, same old. Go in, talk about your feelings, and listen to other people afterward. Sure, it helped, and it felt great to empower people to get back up from a great fall, but it just...

It doesn't really fulfill him nowadays.

Hell, he's not sure what can fulfill him now.

Settling in, he notes that Bucky's room is dark; chances are, he's probably out right now. Before, Steve used to be worried about him, but now it's not uncommon for Bucky to be gone every now and then. Steve doesn't really ask where he's going, so long as Bucky doesn't tell him. One day, maybe he'll ask.

Regardless though, Steve rummages around in the fridge to see what he has to work with in terms of dinner. But before he could even take out anything, his phone buzzes with a notification.

Taking out his phone, still halfway into the fridge, Steve glances at the display name.

It's from Rhodes.

Raising an eyebrow, he taps on the notification. It's rare that Rhodey texts, and it's even rarer for him to text Steve of all people. Nowadays, other than any Avenging business, they don't really talk. Granted, Steve also never finds the energy to talk to anyone these days, save a select few and those at the group therapy sessions, but that's beside the point.

So if Rhodey is texting him, it's gotta be important.

And judging by how fast Steve had bolted out the door and onto his motorcycle, it sure as hell was important. 

From: Col. James Rhodes.

To: Capt. Steve Rogers, Dr. Bruce Banner, +3 others.

"Dr. Strange's back. He has new information about (Name), and it's major. He's not staying for long. - James."

Pepper doesn't want to be here.

There was no going around it- as composed as she was and had to be, she knew she could only take so much before she would snap. And sitting in the compound once again, she wouldn't be surprised if what she was about to hear would be the final straw.

She had plans today, too. She was supposed to take Morgan to go see the neighborhood fireworks festival, and she remembers distinctly looking forward to taking Morgan on the ferry-go-round, too. And yet, here she is, at the compound which once used to be lively, but only whispers of her husband and son echo in the hallways.

She had already been sitting in here for an hour before Steve had finally made it. By then, Bruce and Strange had already explained why they were here.

Just like Tony and Natasha, it seemed like your fate had already been set in stone the moment Stephen had spared the time stone for Tony's life.

But that wasn't what they were called in here for; or at least, in a way that Pepper had initially thought. 

Bruce was talking, and as if he was concluding his monologue, he spares a sympathetic glance at everyone in the room, especially at Pepper. She just wishes he'd stop throwing glances at her as if she was a fine piece of China ready to tip over from the cupboard at any moment now (She knows she almost is, but she'd rather be caught dead than to have an emotional breakdown at a time like this. What was it- Stark men are made of iron?)

"And besides... We've retrieved video recording of what happened that day. From DAHLIA."

The only thing in her vision is red. But she doesn't raise her voice. ('Am I going to have to watch it?' She thinks) She doesn't move from her spot as she stares at Bruce, eyes dilated ('Yes, of course, you want to know what happened,' her subconscious betrays her). Her ears are pounding and she doesn't know whether she wants to laugh or cry.

"And why did it take you so long to get the recording?"

She watches like a hawk as Bruce and Stephen grimace. They glance at each other with uncertainty, but it's Bruce who bites the bullet and speaks up.

"Because, ah... We didn't think about it...?"

Suddenly, all she wants to do is scream. Lifting a shaking hand to her head as there's now a pounding at her skull, she clenches her eyes shut.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

She opens her eyes and boy, does she hate the way that everyone's avoiding her gaze. Even the ever so elusive Sorceror Supreme (In her head, she knows he's not at fault. In her heart, she wants to spit on his name.) pretends to be busy, but she knows.

She knows.

She sighs, ignoring the tremble of her lips, and dismissively waves her hand at Bruce.

"Just play it. Please."

Bruce silently nods and pulls up a recording. It's dated back to the day of the reversed blip, a quarter past afternoon. 

Pepper crosses her arm, praying that no one sees her hands quake as the recording starts. 

It's dark and decrepit, with a good portion of the screen glitching out. There are charts and tables everywhere, and Pepper now recognizes them as his health stats. The walls all blur together as she tries to bite back the tears.

There's rubble everywhere. In the distance are lights from fires, but you're so far down there's barely any light at all. Your face isn't in view, and rather what she sees makes her heartache even worse than before.

A gleam of metal jutting out of your stomach is front and center of the camera. It's huge- about the width of her thigh- and it's stained red. Your breathing is labored and short, obvious signs of a panic attack as the sounds of you gasping echo in the room. No one says a thing as an Australian voice speaks up in a frantic.

"Doll! Doll, I need you to breathe! You're going into shock!"

There's no response from you as you continue to hyperventilate. Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees Steve's jaw clench and Bruce covering his mouth. She doesn't react to Rhodey's hand squeezing her shoulder as they all watch on.

There's a weird sound coming out of you. Pepper's heart clenches, and at this point, she doesn't even care that she's crying now- because she knows what that sound is.

That's the sound of you hiccuping.

You're crying.

You- one of the strongest men she knows, an Avenger, a hero, her baby- are crying, alone, and she was none the wiser to your suffering.

You're moving- oh God, your arm- and the video feed pick up scuttering and growling. Her stomach drops even further. Chitauri. 

Your other arm grasps all over your lower body, barely gliding past your wounds (oh God, please tell her that's not a steel beam) and into your pockets. There's an orange tint, barely there, but in your hands as DAHLIA speaks up again.

"Don't move! You've been impaled by a steel beam and your prosthetic arm has been dislocated- any more movement will result in an increased blood loss! I am attempting to contact Mister-"

There's the sound of glass shattering before the video camera shuts off. The charts suddenly spike unnaturally, going practically haywire as the only thing left coming from the screen is the sound of DAHLIA's voice glitching. 

"-er-er-er!"

It was a horrific way to go if Stephen's being honest.

Of course, as both a doctor and Sorcerer Supreme, he's seen- and even experienced- his fair share of gruesome injuries and deaths. It was par the course, so it wasn't enough to make him want to empty his guts.

But he'd be lying if he said that he didn't at least feel his stomach curl in when he had to witness your 'death' the first few times. 

Seeing you crushed under debris, your prosthetic arm hanging by a few strings, and literally impaled by a steel beam wasn't a pleasant sight whatsoever. Add on watching your scared form hyperventilating and hearing your A.I. trying to calm you down with heartbreakingly real panic in her voice, and it was downright unbearable.

And that was the best of it: there were ones where the steel beam had sliced through your skull or where you had been straight up mauled by the Chitauri as you didn't have your suit on hand, for whatever reason. There were other scenarios where the chitauri had mobbed-up your decapitated head, and Thanos had presented it to the older Stark, just as he was about to grab the stones. That one move proved fatal for everyone, as even Stark had lost his composure at the sight of his dead son.

As much as Stephen doesn't want to say it, he knew that what had actually happened to you was the best possible route that had been chosen for you.

The video ends, and the Captain leans away from the wall he was positioned on. 

"What the hell happened? One moment- he was trapped under rubble, the next, nothing? Suddenly we lose all contact with him? What- did he just- pop out of existence?"

He's frustrated, angry. Stephen would be lying if he didn't feel an inkling of the same emotions as him. Stephen runs a shaky hand through his hair.

"You're not entirely wrong, Captain. What happened to him was similar to that of St- Tony," He corrects himself prematurely, "and Romanoff."

"You telling me he was meant to- to die too? Like Tony and Natasha?"

Stephen shakes his head, ignoring the seething anger in the captain's voice. In the corner of his eyes, he sees Rhodes wrap his arms around Pepper, who's sat still in her chair, staring blankly at Stephen. It's almost as if she's seeing past him for a split second as if she's looking at someone else behind him.

There's only a wall next to him. He ignores her, skin prickling at her unwavering attention, yet eery silence.

"It's a means to an end. I can't pick their fates, Captain. That's not how my powers work."

'Though, it would've been better for the sake of everyone had it did work that way.' Stephen bitterly remarks.

"Besides that, I never said he's dead, Captain. Or, shouldn't be, anyway." Stephen carefully avoided answering if it was a necessity that you were to go.

Stephen internally sighs, knowing immediately that wasn't the right thing to say judging by the 'oh God' Pepper just muttered.

Rhodes speaks up with a clenched jaw. He had been silent this whole time, but Stephen wasn't foolish enough to not recognize how even he had been bothered by the film. Whether it was because of the gore, emotional connection, or both, Stephen doesn't care enough to ask.

"Then what exactly are you saying?"

Stephen, once again, ignores how confrontational his tone is. He doesn't blame Rhodes for his frustrations; being a doctor, it's inevitable that he'd come and get used to people like this.

'They're mourning,' he hears imaginary Christine chiding him.

Stephen sighs. He's not even sure how to break it all to them, as even he's not too sure of what has become of you after the film. But regardless, Stephen reels himself back in and composes himself.

He pulls back the need to add any fluff words and says what he's been inching to say ever since he had attended Tony's funeral.

"Stark's traveled back in time; the only problem is, is that we don't know when and where."

Masterlist

Tagged: @unsolvetheheckoutofit

[janiedean]

I really, really love your metas! In "Why a Jaime/Brienne Endgame in the Books Makes More Sense Than One Might Think, Based on Previous Works of GRRM's" you wrote, that you have endless reasons to assume that both, J and B, will survive the whole series - can you please name some? Aside from this mentioned meta I've only read an explantion of the weirwood dream, which can be interpreted in both ways. Or can you link a good meta that explains other reasons? Thank you very much!

hey!

first of all thank you so much, glad that you appreciate my rants. ;) that said, sure I can go in-depth. in order (btw @ginmo has written also some excellent meta about this, just check on her blog), and also counting the weirwood dream which I’ve ranted on at length in that specific meta:

now, the first thing is how grrm strategically placed these two in the narrative, in the sense that:

brienne has spent her life being passed for a joke and she desperately wants for someone to see her worth as a person and she’d about kill herself for the people who manage to get as far as to gain her trust/love, jaime has spent his life loving people without getting much in return and with that trust being used/abused/thrown away and everyone taking it for granted... and we’re assuming they’re not set up to be together when as stated grrm has written them as romantic from the first moment?

(also, jaime’s entire first chapter in asos is basically ‘I find brienne attractive but since I never considered that I could be attracted to anyone but cersei I can’t understand I’m attracted to her so I’ll stare at her and think she’s ugly all along even if I really am attracted to her. brienne’s issues are also rooted in the fact that no one sees her as attractive. jaime does. hmmm?)

both of them start from a miserable situation from which they’re finding their own way up, not down - jaime is more obvious but brienne is too because she starts at the point where she’s so starved for recognition she would die for someone who just was nice to her but didn’t really gaf about her and now she’s... well, becoming a knight because sure af that is happening, I’m sticking with the theory that the knighting is book canon too -, and if they both end up miserable or one of them does it doesn’t work;

both of their chapters have heavy foreshadowing concerning possible marriage/having children/finding love - jaime wants to father his kids and at some point resents that other men are husbands and fathers but not him because he was always the warrior and he doesn’t say it happily, brienne is half-glad her first betrothed died because she thinks she’s not suited to typical feminine things/to fit into a woman’s role in society but she’s also sad at thinking she will never have children, these two are going to get together very soon, and I’m supposed to think they’re set up for failure? k but I can respectfully disagree;

also, this goes back to that meta I wrote in which I said that grrm does not do grim for grim’s sake and he’s actually way less cruel than it seems, likes a good love story and has more than once finished his other books with satisfying resolutions to that kind of storyline, but adding to that: in comparison to whatever calvinist crap message hbo wanted to send, I have to inform y’all that grrm is a currently agnostic lapsed catholic and it’s exceedingly clear in the way he explores/deals with redemptive themes.

now, let me break the jb narrative for a moment to inform you of a few things that as an atheist born and raised in a 99% catholic country whose literature’s funding works are heavily based on catholic themes/on stories rooted in catholicism:

the ‘you need to die to be redeemed’ narrative is 100% bullshit according to catholic morals and on top of that it’s opened to anyone at any time;

like, the basic distinction between catholic and calvinist approaches to the topic (and I can’t believe I’m defending catholicism but nvm that) is that calvinism preys on a narrative where your negative qualities define you and you cannot escape them (which is because calvinism accepts predestination ie the idea that seeing your lot in life you can deduce if you’ll go to heaven or hell, so if you’re poor/unsuccessful/you committed mistakes/a crime and so on you’re not redeemable and it’s proof you’re damned) and that meant that in societies with calvinist background the death = redemption narrative is extremely popular because it’s seen as ‘hey this person is wretched and they suck so they couldn’t have lived anyway and they did something good with it for once and it’s the best they could hope for’. catholicism, at the contrary, works on the basis that as we all have free will we can change for the better and if you repent for your sins/past wrongdoings/mistakes then that’s enough to be redeemed and if you do it on your deathbed.... you can still go to heaven, you’ll just have to atone for your wrongdoings (that’s the entire point of purgatory’s existence ie making people who repented near death or too late to gain heaven atone for their sins before they can enter heaven). and the moment you repent then you’re free to start your new life and do better and gain your place in heaven, which you’ll obtain in virtue of having turned a new leaf;

(again: not to be that person, but in luke’s gospel one of the two thieves crucified with him is like ‘can you save us since you’re the son of god’, the other thief is like ‘please he has done nothing and we have sinned we don’t deserve to be saved just please remember us when you go back to your father’ and jesus tells the second thief I won’t need to remember you because you’ll sit at my right. also, in dante’s divine comedy there’s a guy who had been excommunicated in the middle ages waiting to get into purgatory for having repented on his deathbed and in manzoni’s the betrothed ie italy’s funding novel the character who’s objectively better written is a dude so heinous for his crimes that he’s called THE UNNAMED and the moment this guy gets doubts and wonders if there’s any hope for him left the local arcibishop leaves everything saying that the moment someone like that is in need then they’re more important than his own parish, goes to receive unnamed guy, tells him that just wanting to be better is enough as far as god is concerned and he’s saved as far as he cares. like, as much as catholicism sucks for the entire rest of it and for how much the catholic church is the worst ideologically the fact that everyone can be redeemed is the basic staple of the entire thing.)

now, given the ^^^, this is where I tell you that most lapsed catholics/people who left catholicism for whichever reasons usually grew up catholic and if you grow up catholic you spend your first twelve years in church at least and if your parents/people around you are also catholic you will absorb it, good and bad, so if grrm grew up catholic, he grew up with that background. (I could again rant for hours about how atheist writers who grew up catholic differ from atheist writers who grew up protestant/calvinist because if you compare grrm and idk kurt vonnegut it’s glaring but this isn’t the place for it so nvm let’s go on)

now that I’ve told you this, I’ll get back to jaime and brienne’s canon survival chances. I needed to tell you that because...

all of the stories with redemptive themes in asoiaf (jaime, theon, sandor, whoever) are not by nature calvinist. whatever d&d think or hbo thought, none of them are written in a way where death is their best option/their only way to achieve redemption/to finish their story with dignity. theon has gone through hell and back and left and regained his sense of identity, he’s not built to die now, sandor has freaking gone to rehab and I’m 100% sure he survives the series and gets closure, while jaime is exactly a poster child for the above stuff I described. like, jaime is someone who’s fundamentally good who had the misfortune to spend his entire life jumping in different kinds of abusive situation one to the other (tywin’s parentage in general, his relationship with cersei throughout at least from the moment they were *experimenting* and like hell I’m going back on that sorry not sorry, guarding aerys, being with cersei at *her* terms and being forced to relieve his trauma all over and not having his needs met etc., tywin potentially ruining his only healthy relationship [with tyrion] and so on) who in turn has done exceedingly bad things/taken bad decision/committed heinous deeds that he regrets having done out of his bad reaction to all of that, not treating his ptsd and basically deciding to stop giving a fuck and embrace being the horrid person everyone thinks he is... until he meets brienne, remembers who he wanted to be because she’s posing an example of it and decides on his own to try and be better, which is... exactly... the entire fucking point. the moment he decides to try and be better and reclaims his dreams/the person he wanted to be/tries to do good he has automatically achieved a narrative status where he chose to be better and therefore the narrative is giving him a chance to be that, and usually those stories are meant to.... have the message that you can be better than the bad things you did and you can turn back the page at any point. like. jaime is written to show you that it’s not too late to get your shit together and not letting others/your surroundings define who you are;

on the other side, brienne is presented as extremely sympathetic from the beginning. also, grrm is very good at describing how shitty is your life if you grow up a woman who is not standard attractive, that everyone laughs at and who has endless insecurities for it.... and she’s the paragon of knighthood/everything good about chivalry in the goddamned series. brienne is legit one of the best people in these books and it’s not because I stan her - she’s kind, she’s just, she’s brave she’s everything a knight should be, she’s willing to change her mind when she misjudged people, she’s forgiving and life threw her crap all along and she’s still persevering from it. brienne is written in a frankly painfully objective way to eventually succeed at what she wants. if in affc she’s crying because she feels like she’s too much of a freak to be her father’s heir and she’s not woman or man enough for anything, the entire narrative point is that she has to succeed at both being a knight and a lady otherwise grrm can’t plant hints and believe me he can;

this means that jaime is headed on a redemptive path which in that kind of story when written by catholics or former catholics never ends up badly (also, aside: redemption is good for everyone and it can’t be just ONE character having it, you don’t buy it at the supermarket, so saying that if jaime has it then tyrion or theon or sandor or whoever can’t have it is just poor reading, people change all the time irl and in narrative you aren’t obligated to redeem one and kill everyone else) or in death, brienne has been written to succeed in her endeavors after she suffers a shitton and I think stoneheart has to be the worst and the end of it (in the sense that after that situation is resolved the way for her is down, not up). which if I do the math and we have stated they’re headed for romance, means the both of them should have a chance at a future together;

also, I can go and tell you that their asos road trip ending with harrenhal is bursting with symbolism that includes death and rebirth - not going into the weirwood dream and sticking to the basics... guys, jaime starts as a prisoner, then ends up losing a part of herself he thinks define him but in truth only defines what he thinks he is (and he’s not ie cersei’s double, the kingslayer, the person who has to drive himself crazy to protect everyone else), then ends up almost dying and sitting in the middle of his own filth for the entirety of the trip (and even then he does good things ie saving brienne from being raped *cough*) and then ends up in a scalding hot bath where he confesses his most well-kept secret and source of 50% of his trauma to someone he trusts regardless of how much he likes it or not, faints and then wakes up again when everyone thinks he might be dead. symbolically, I think it speaks for itself. thing is, during the entire thing *brienne* is there alongside him and while she’s also getting her own share of trauma/ptsd (I mean brienne has totally bloody mummers related ptsd and I’ll die on that hill) she physically is the reason he survives it - she cleans him up, she gives him enough pep talks to convince him to live, she hears his confession, she changes her mind about him for it (but imvho she had after he saved her from being raped because that’s where she calls him ser for the first time) and she catches him in the bath when he faints which is.... fairly symbolic in itself, and she is the one who puts him back on his feet after. like, while jaime’s choices after are all his own, his symbolic journey through his own physical/mental filth he has to go through during asos succeeds because she helped him even if she didn’t know she was doing it, and like... guys, there’s a reason why in the weirwood dream the brienne in jaime’s head which he has conjured and who is basically what jaime sees brienne as in that moment, not necessarily the real one..... keeps on telling him all the time she’ll keep him safe/protect him and she basically tells that to anyone he feels threatened by (or his subconscious feels threatened by), and as stated before, jaime lannister has never, until that point, assumed that *he* would be in the position where someone else gives a shit about him to the point where they will defend him rather than in the position where *he* is the person that has to protect everyone else regardless of how much appreciation he gets in return. like, excuse me but if I was writing my own book I wouldn’t put this much work and care and this symbolism in these two’s history if I meant to kill one of them off or to not have them be happy in the end.

like, the point is: grrm is an extremely meticulous writer with an astonishing attention to detail and who put in book two shit that made extra sense when reading book FIVE, see theon saying he wouldn’t go to his death wearing dirty clothing in acok which makes you go like ‘....... why’ the moment you read his adwd chapters. no one, unless they have a penchant for sadism, would put that much work with those themes in that specific kind of story if then it doesn’t deliver. or, in different words, using a character I love as well so no one can accuse me of being impartial: when grrm put the same kind of work in catelyn’s chapters from got to asos and then you read them knowing about lady stoneheart and the red wedding, it’s obvious that he built her up for being an extremely tragic character and that she was destined to die regardless of all her efforts to save her family (same for robb but we’re talking pov characters). but catelyn’s storyline doesn’t have redemptive themes. it’s about regret, loss, loving your children but being imperfect/not being able to be there for them, and so on. catelyn’s storyline never promises you a happy ending from the moment ned dies and probably even before then. catelyn’s storyline promises you endless suffering and that’s fine because that’s her point in the narrative.

on the contrary, brienne’s tells you ‘hey there’s this girl who has had it like shit all her life without deserving it and whose worth no one sees because she’s ugly and who at the same time is actually a genuinely good person who’s trying her best and okay, she’s gonna suffer but she’ll come out on top while getting what she wants which is recognition as both a lady and a knight’ and given that brienne is also an extremely rare rep (say what you want, cishet unattractive women with her issues and her backstory are basically only less rare than unicorns in media) that I’m 100% sure grrm knows speaks to a lot of people (because he writes her too well to not know), if brienne doesn’t get that after all that shit, the narrative would not deliver on a fairly huge promise.

even worse, jaime’s tells you ‘hey there’s this guy who has been an abuse victim to at least three different people who doesn’t even realize it and whose life is so fucked up you’d need fifteen psychology textbooks to even start grasping it and that everyone sees as the worst person ever and who has ended up believing he is out of not managing his trauma well and hey look at him going through an insane amount of extra suffering but coming out of it wanting to be better and sort of succeeding and hey he has setbacks but he’s starting to see himself as his own person and he’s out of his #1 worst abusive relationship and he can decide what to do with his life now and you should root for him’, which means that if he dies or worst of all dies like in the show (but that’s not happening) the narrative doesn’t deliver on a huge promise and gives you the message that you can’t escape your mistakes and the abuse you received...... which is not the message grrm likes/wants to pass. like, I’ll die on that damned hill.

and to finish it, that was for them as single characters, but going back to the beginning: love is a fundamental part of both their storylines. as I said in the beginning, brienne suffered because she wasn’t loved enough and would die for anyone she loves herself without even expecting anything in return because she thinks no one will love her like that, jaime suffered because he loved too much without getting anything in return (or better, getting cersei’s abusive crap for his entire life) and he turned it into something toxic that’s not what he thinks it should be (he sees his and c’s relationship as the best thing ever where they’re soulmates because she sold him that narrative, but that’s not the kind of rship where you *turn your partner’s blows into kisses* which is actual text). at this point, the narrative is telling you ‘oh hey here’s two damaged people who actually would be very good together because their personalities match in that sense [as in, brienne would thrive with someone who loves her that much openly and finds her attractive and respects her for all that she is and jaime would thrive with someone who would appreciate that tenfold and who’d love him back just as much and who’d die for him - canon! -, and it wouldn’t be the kind of rship where anyone’s blows turn into kisses unless they were friendly sparring before] and oh hey look at that they’re in a storyline where they both influence each other greatly and oh wait he’s attracted to her and she thinks he looks like half a god and she’d die for him and he was willing to get mauled by a bear for her and they’re obviously meant to hook up’, which automatically promises a resolution where they both get what they want or you basically spent all your time rooting for it.... for nothing. which would not give anyone reading it satisfaction unless you hate jb that much, but I’m 100% sure that most people reading asoiaf casually would not hate it that much and grrm likes that trope that much to not deliver on it.

so, tldr: if one of them dies or if they aren’t endgame with a reasonable happy-ish ending for the both of them, the entire narrative fails to deliver on the promises of their individual storylines and their shared one, and there’s nothing in grrm’s writing that suggests that he would not deliver on it. I mean, if it was stephen king I’d hold my breath because I love steve but imvho his endings suck 85% of the time and he manages to do 180° turnarounds that have no sense whatsoever, but it’s grrm, not stephen king, and everything of his I’ve read that actually had an ending ended in a way that was coherent with the overall storyline and maintained its promises, so here, the above is pretty much the summary. hopefully I haven’t exhausted you. ;)

[a-queer-seminarian]

Working through antisemitism in Holy Week, post 2

cw: violent antisemitism in history

The article below is the most helpful I’ve found so far in my search for information on how to confront the antisemitism of Holy Week. It’s by Amy-Jill Levine, who is Jewish herself and is the Professor of New Testament Studies and Judaism Studies at Vanderbilt University Divinity School. 

The article’s simple list of “options” we have for how we approach all the anti-Jewish sentiment that permeates the New Testament is much appreciated, because I’ve felt directionless! I’ve felt like there are “no options,” that this whole thing is too overwhelming, too complex for anyone to get a handle on -- now there are options, and some of them are actually good options!

I’m pasting most of the article below -- “Holy Week and the Hatred of the Jews: Avoiding Anti-Judaism at Easter”

_______

‘ Jesus of Nazareth, charged by the Roman authorities with sedition, dies on a Roman cross. But Jews - the collective, all Jews - become known as “Christ-killers."

Still haunting, the legacy of that charge becomes acute during Holy Week, when pastors and priests who speak about the death of Jesus have to talk about "the Jews."

Every year, the same difficulty surfaces: how can a gospel of love be proclaimed, if that same gospel is heard to promote hatred of Jesus's own people?

The charge against "the Jews" permeates the pages of the New Testament.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Pilate literally washes his hands while "all the people" - all the Jewish people - clamour for Jesus's death: "Let him be crucified ... His blood be on us and on our children!" (Matthew 27:23, 27).

John's Gospel identifies the Jews as "from your father the devil" (John 8:44) and blames them for backing Pilate into a corner and forcing him to kill an innocent man.

In the Acts of the Apostles, Peter charges "the entire house of Israel" (Acts 2:36) with crucifying Jesus and so having "killed the Author of life" (Acts 3:14-15). Paul then bluntly refers to "the Jews, who killed the Lord Jesus" (1 Thessalonians 2:14-15).

Perhaps this vilification was inevitable. Jesus's followers could not understand how the vast majority of Jews could not accept their belief in him as the Messiah.

The majority of Jews, in turn, saw no sign of the Messianic age having dawned: no general resurrection of the dead; no ingathering of the exiles to Zion; no end to death, war, disease, or poverty. What was self-evident to one group was incomprehensible to other. Incomprehension turned to mistrust, and mistrust, on both sides, turned to vilification.

Today, interfaith conversation, in which Jews and Christians learn to appreciate their common roots and better understand the reasons for the gradual and often painful separation, can reverse the process. Official (and unofficial) church statements facilitate healing as well:  Nostra Aetate , the 1965 declaration of Vatican II, proclaimed that all Jews at all times should not be held responsible for Jesus's death, and Pope Benedict XVI, in the second volume of his Jesus of Nazareth , strongly reiterated the point. Christians from many (but not all) other branches of the tradition, generally agree.

But we still have to deal with our pasts, and with our Scriptures. Every time the Passion narratives are read, the threat of anti-Judaism reappears.

There is no catch-all for resolving the problems in the New Testament - or in Tanakh/the Old Testament, for that matter; we all have difficult texts in our canons. But there are strategies. Here are six, in order of usefulness.

Excision The first option is excision: take a pair of scissors to the offending passages - or, in today's parlance, hit the delete key. Howard Thurman recounts hearing from his grandmother how the plantation minister always preached, "Slaves, be obedient to your masters ..." and how she determined that if she ever learned to read, she would never read that part of the Bible. The story has morphed into the common sermon illustration that Thurman's grandmother, once both freed and literate, took a scissors to the text. Had I suffered what Thurman's grandmother suffered, I may well have taken the same approach. However, the destruction of a text considered sacred seems to me extreme. To erase offending texts is to erase memories of both the victims of those texts and those who struggled against them. Moreover, if we each design our own canons, we eliminate community. A variant on the excision approach is to claim that Paul or Jesus never made the problematic comment and therefore, we can ignore them. For example, scholars commonly argue that Paul did not write 1 Thessalonians 2:14b-16 - it is inconsistent with his positive comments about Jews (such as, "They are Israelites, and to them belong the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises ... as regards election they are beloved ... for the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable" [Romans 9:4-5; 11:28b-29]). The offensive passage can also be removed from the letter without harming the rhetorical flow. Similarly, many scholars argue that Jesus's invectives in the Gospels stem not from the man from Nazareth, but from the later church in competition with local synagogues. Comforting as such arguments may be, they are based on hypothesis, not fact. Paul may well have changed his mind; Jesus would not be the first Jew critical of fellow Jews. Moreover, Christian proclamation is not based on some scholarly construct of an original text or a "historical Jesus" apart from the Gospels. It is based in the words of the Bible as interpreted by the faithful community. Therefore, Christians must deal with those words.

Retranslate The second option is to retranslate - or, bowdlerize. For example, some "progressive" translations read John's Gospel as condemning not "Jews" but "Judeans" or "Jewish leaders" or "religious leaders" or simply "leaders." Such translations are well-meaning, and at least "Judean" is legitimate translation of the Greek term Ioudaioi. But to replace the New Testament's "Jews" by other terms is to have a judenrein text, a text "purified" of Jews. Such bowdlerizing obscures part of the reason why Jews have been persecuted over 2,000 years, divorces Jews not only from Jesus and his earliest followers, and even serves to de-legitimate the relationship of Jews today from the land of Israel. Hence, politically correct translations are not necessarily biblically faithful ones.

Romanticize The theological answer to the question ‘Who killed Jesus?’ is not ‘the Jews’ but humanity. This is an excellent place to begin. The problem, however, is that those who see themselves as ‘Jews’ on Good Friday then see themselves as redeemed "Christians" on Sunday morning. The Jews, by not accepting Jesus as Lord and Saviour, remain in their guilt. The same romantic approach today is best exemplified in the celebration of the Passover seder in churches, usually on Holy Thursday. ...Baptizing Jewish symbols in Christian terms is not a strong move in interfaith sensitivity. Nor do Christian seders remove the problem. To the contrary, the performance serves to absolve the congregation: how could they be anti-Jewish if they are doing something so Jewish as having a Passover seder?

Allegorize The fourth option is to allegorize: to say that the text really doesn't mean what it says. For example, we take Matthew's blood-cry (27:15) not as a self-curse, but as a plea for redemption: the people are ironically asking to be redeemed by Jesus's blood. While this approach redeems the verse theologically, it also suggests that the Jewish crowd wanted and needed this redemption, so that Judaism apart from the Christian message is ineffective. The move turns Jews into crypto-Christians.

Historicize The fifth approach, the darling of the academy, provides historical rationale and often justification, for the problematic statements. For example, we claim that Matthew is a Jew writing for a Jewish community; therefore his words cannot be anti-Jewish - as if Jews cannot be anti-Jewish, which is a silly idea. Also complicating this view: we know neither who wrote the Gospels, which were originally transmitted anonymously, nor the community to which they are addressed. It is a dirty little secret in biblical studies: we determine, based on the contents of the Gospels, both author and audience. Then we interpret the text on the basis of our reconstruction. This is a circular argument. Similarly, we note the historical unlikelihood of "all the people" saying, "his blood be on us and on our children" - that all of us Jews would say the same thing, ever, is a tad unlikely. Then, we see how Matthew understands the destruction of Jerusalem, witnessed by the "children," to be punishment for the Jews' refusal to acknowledge Jesus as Lord. Therefore, so the argument goes, since the people never said the line, we can ignore it. But the line remains in the text; ignoring it is not an option. Another variation on the historicizing approach is to claim that the anti-Jewish language is reactionary: invective would be quite natural from the pen of those excommunicated from the synagogue. The problem here is, first, that we have no evidence, other than John's attestation (John 9:22; 12:42; 16:2) of synagogues tossing people out. If some synagogues did expel Jesus's followers, we should ask why. Because they wanted to replace Torah with Jesus? Because they were seen as compromising monotheism? Because they told synagogue members that unless they worshiped Jesus they would go to hell? Because they put the community in danger, given Roman distrust of the new messianic movement? Because they cherished their own traditions, which they found completely fulfilling? Any of these would be quite good reasons, and would likely result in censoring in my synagogue today. Finally, if we define this polemic as reactionary, again we blame the Jews for the problem. Finding history behind the text can help. But we cannot be secure with the history we posit, and when all the historical work is said and done, we still have to address what the New Testament actually says.

Admit the problem We come finally to our sixth option: admit to the problem and deal with it. There are many ways congregations can address the difficult texts. Put a note in service bulletins to explain the harm the texts have caused. Read the problematic texts silently, or in a whisper. Have Jews today give testimony about how they have been hurt by the texts. Those who proclaim the problematic verses from the pulpit might imagine a Jewish child sitting in the front pew and take heed: don't say anything that would hurt this child, and don't say anything that would cause a member of the congregation to hurt this child. Better still: educate the next generation, so that when they hear the problematic words proclaimed, they have multiple contexts - theological, historical, ethical - by which to understand them. Christians, hearing the Gospels during Holy Week, should no more hear a message of hatred of Jews than Jews, reading the Book of Esther on Purim, should hate Persians, or celebrating the seder and reliving the time when "we were slaves in Egypt," should hate Egyptians. We choose how to read. After two thousand years of enmity, Jews and Christians today can recover and even celebrate our common past, locate Jesus and his earliest followers within rather than over and against Judaism, and live into the time when, as both synagogue and church proclaim, we can love G-d and our neighbour.’

[antman-56]

The Long Night Pt. 22

BEEP BEEP BEEP

That sound was starting to get annoying but the only good thing about it was it telling the whole world that Taiyang was still alive. Raven was seating next to him, reading aloud and drinking tea.

Raven (chuckling) : I’m pretty sure this part would have made you laugh. It’s about a bard that can’t keep it in his pants and Geralt saves him by telling the lord that the bard was kicked in the balls by an ox.

Tai remained motionless. He had been for almost a month. Their were times he made a sound of discomfort or joy and one time he opened his eyes, blinked and then passed out again. 

Nurse : Um Miss Branwen, visiting hours end in 10 minutes. But if you like we can let you stay for half an hour more.

Raven : The 10 is fine, thank you.

Raven went back to reading. As the nurse left she heard her say that the kid was lucky to have such a caring girlfriend. 

If only they knew the truth.

Raven got up from her seat and gave Tai a kiss on his forehead.

Raven (whispering) : Wake up soon. I love you.

Raven left the medical wing and was now on her way to the dorm. She was thinking about the homework she still had to do and determining if it was worth it.

She was outside the medical wings doors when she texted Summer :

*Raven :Hey heading home

*Summer : K and could u go to the store and pick up milk

*Summer : ill pay u back

*Raven :Fine 

After a couple of minutes of walking she noticed she was being followed by a group of men, maybe 4 or 5. They were good if it took her this long, she blamed the teachers for the homework. She had no weapons on her and they were behind the cafeteria far away from the residential dorms were located. She began to walk faster and staying in the light. She was beginning to panic, if they were TRBO, JACB, BLAD, or all of them then she was screwed. 

She started looking around to find a pole, a rock, anything to use as a weapon. Then she saw the convenience store was just up ahead and ran for it.

When she was at the door she turned around out of breath and ready to scream. She didn’t see any of them. She went inside the store and took out her scroll.

*Raven : Hey can u send qrow over with Omen

*Summer : Y

*Raven : Some guys r following me and right now in store

*Summer : Stay put well be their fast

Raven stayed in the store and began browsing and occasionally turning towards the window to see if they were still their. And was scared when she saw a silhouette of a man. 

***Next Day***

Raven and Summer were walking towards their class while Qrow stayed in. His class wasn’t for another 2 hours.

Summer : Do you have any idea who it could have been?

Raven : Maybe TRBO, JACB, BLAD or a mix of them? I don’t know! I just ran.

Raven hated to admit it but she felt weak right then and there. If she had Omen with her she would have ran at them without hesitation or remorse. 

Summer saw the look on Raven’s face. Frustrated, angry, ashamed, and worse of all afraid.

Summer (stops and puts her hands on Raven’s shoulders) : Hey, anyone in your situation would have ran. Their is no reason to feel ashamed about it.

Raven : Summer, I was weak.

Summer : Were all weak. When we are around the people we care about, we are at our most strongest. That’s why were Huntresses.

Raven stayed silent. The last time she was with Tai he was holding his head and screaming. They were weak, SHE was weak even around the man she loved. And for the other reason, well Summer would change her mind if she knew.

Raven (taking hands off her shoulders) : Anyway, changing subject. Anything new with Qrow?

Summer : Well I asked him to smell my new conditioner and for his opinion.

Raven : Aside from that being a wired way to flirt, were you in a towel and fresh out the shower or clothed and dry when you went to him?

Summer (slight blush) : Clothed.

Raven : Well did you get close close or close?

Summer (blushing and quickly) : I got close enough to hear his heartbeat explode.

As the girls kept chatting about Operation : Dumbass they were being observed from the rooftops.

Freya (sitting at the edge) : Why are we doing this again?

An Mai (holding binoculars) : James told us to follow her. He believes their is a mole in our group.

Freya :  Hey I’ve kept my mouth shut. I owe Willow everything I have. And Summer is probably the nicest person we have ever met from Beacon. 

An Mai : I agree, but if we do have a mole we have to take every precaution otherwise Tesla wins.

Freya : She let me braid her hair. That’s a sacred trust. And are you sure no one can see us?

An Mai semblance is blend. She can camouflage herself and her immediate area if she is calm. 

An Mai : Yes, i’m sure. I mean I was able to get past Casey Lee Williams backstage security.

Freya : Best! Day! Ever! But what dose Jimmy think she’ll do?

An Mai : Don’t know, that’s why we need to watch her and her team.

Freya (pouting) : Doesn’t mean we have to like it.

An Mai : Agreed.

***BLAD Dorm***

Clothes were being thrown out of a closet and a tail was popping out of it. 

Alvin : No, not this one. No, that needs to be washed. No for obvious reasons. Guys, I need help!

Damien (laughing at the antics) : Glad your admitting it.

Alvin got out of the closet and glared at Damien.

Ben (annoyed) : Get your tail out of my face!

Lenny : Guys how does this make me look? Flashy and bold or dashing and daring?

Ben : Don’t care. 

Alvin : Guys!!

Everyone turned to him.

Alvin (exhausted) : I want to ask out that girl.

Lenny : I would go with her friend. 

Lenny put his hands hovering over his chest. Trying to imitate Raven’s breasts.

Damien : She’s taken by the blonde guy.

Alvin : Plus she’s mean. The small girl,  She’s nice.

Ben : She trapped you in a mine and blew it up!

Alvin :Still her voice!! It was angelic~

Lenny :He is right. Beauties come in all sizes, big or small. I’ll help you. 

Lenny rushed over to him and took out his measuring tape.

Lenny (Edna Mode impersonation)  : First off darling you lack the pazazz in your look. Your plain and boring and the tail, was so last year.

He playfully pulled it and Alvin went stiff.

Alvin : Hands off the tail!

Lenny : My bad! But in all seriousness you need -

Damien : Muscle! (pushes Lenny aside and makes a pose) That’s what all chicks want. Come with me to the gym and get on my program and I promise you after 3 weeks every girl will want you.

Ben : What he needs is confidence. Be funny and stuff around her. Chicks love the romantic crap movies show. 

Lenny : What no he needs to be unique not some muscle brain jackass or some beta male nonsense.

Damien : Muscled jackass!?

Ben : At least the girls I come home with don’t regret it the morning after!

Lenny : You want to fucking GO!!

Alvin : Can I p-

BL_D : NO!!!

Alvin walked to the window and watched the campus ignoring the fight right behind him and daydreaming about a possible future with a beautiful girl with silver eyes.

Imagining a nice house on a hill, a litter of children with silver eyes and with different faunus features from fluffy tails and ears to looking almost normal. Them going to a local community center to sing as a family, taking on huntsmen missions as a couple and maybe family. He just stared at the window with a smile.

Damien was holding Lenny up in the air and was about to choke slam him. He had Ben in one arm wrapped around his neck to hold him in place. 

RING RING RING

Alvin snapped out of his dream and turned to the source.

Ben : Let me go.

Damien dropped Lenny on the floor and let go of Ben.

Ben walked to the scroll and picked it up.

Ben : Miller speaking, Turbo whats the problem? 

Lenny and Damien were looking at Ben and hearing him say “Okay” or “I got it”. He hung up the phone and used his semblance.

Ben (interanlly) : We got a two problems.

The rest of team BLAD ran to get notes books and pencils. 

((/// * is writing and   I   for Ben is using his semblance))

*Lenny : What?

Ben (  I  ) : We lost our only sponsor.

That spooked the team.

Damien (yelled)  : WHAT!!

Ben : Quiet!

*Lenny : HOW?

*Damien : Butch was our one and only sponsor. What do you mean he’s gone.

Ben (  I  ) : Something happened and now he lost control of his territory.

*Alvin : Alright, whats the other problem?

Ben (exhaled,   I   ) : The KTs are gone. All of them were found dead in an alley and the survivors were just found near the border. 

Ben looked away from the group, especially Lenny, not able to meet their gaze. 

Lenny (  I  ) : How?!

Ben (  I  ) : Crucified and burned. It had the True Sons of Icarus name all over it. 

*Alvin : So, the gangs dead.

*Lenny : No! WE are alive and we’ll get our revenge!

He said the last part with a sinister tone. 

*Damien : Well lets go pay the Sons a visit.

Ben (  I  ) : Not yet. They have about 60 guys maybe more.

*Lenny : Then what?!

Ben (  I  ) : They’ re at war with The West Triads, The Wolf Pack, Samedi’s Prophets and The Lost Kingz. Their all fighting over Butch’s territory and JACB is gonna help us take them out if we help secure Butch’s territory after he kicks the bucket.

*Damien : So, we kill whoever wins and if the Sons, win its two birds with one stone. 

Ben (  I  ) : And Tesla said he would be our sponsor if we do this.

*Damien : How?

Ben (  I  ) : Well two teams are graduating and one spot is open for us.

*Alvin : I don’t know about this, what happens if a White Fang show up again? 

*Lenny : They won’t. Police Chief Mann made it almost impossible for them to protest legally and if they do. Cops are allowed to use force.

Ben : So, its decided. Get some rest and Alvin go up to her and ask her out. Maybe she likes you too.

Alvin nodded and went outside to test his luck. Tonight was the night.

[drsilverfish]

The Man Who Would Be King - Edlund’s Literary Allusion and 6x20

If you’ve not read Rudyard Kipling’s short story “The Man Who Would Be King” (1888) you can do so here:

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/8147/8147-h/8147-h.htm 

It’s a story about the wild adventures, utter folly, criminal chutzpah, catastrophic hubris and thus, inevitably gruesome downfall, of two itinerant British conmen on the Indian subcontinent, during the time of the British Empire. 

The short story was also made into a film, starring Michael Caine and Sean Connery (1975), which, given the two actors and the medium, ennobles the characters rather more than the original story did. 

Ben Edlund borrowed Kipling’s story title for his Cas-centric episode,  6x20 The Man Who Would Be King, and the original tale has some particular elements that resonate for the Supernatural episode:  

1) The power of an alliance between two men, to wind each other up towards great achievements/ great folly

2) The sheer hubristic (colonial) over-reach of their plans

3) The way the alliance is broken between them

The two men in Kipling’s story, Peachey Carnehan and Daniel Dravot, parallel Crowley and Castiel respectively (not exactly, but somewhat) in Edlund’s tale. 

Peachey and Daniel plan to trek to the remote (imaginary) kingdom of Kafiristan (adjacent to Afghanistan) and become Kings there. They sign a contract to back each other up in pursuit of their goal, and, in it, they swear off liquor and women the while (both being historical drunkards and dissolute con-artists).

This parallels what Crowley offers to Castiel - the defeat of Raphael and their own inaugurations as the new Devil and the new God respectively. 

CROWLEY: “I'm talking about Raphael's head on a pike. I'm talking about happy endings for all of us, with all possible entendres intended. Come on. Just a chat.”

Peachey and Daniel do become Kings. In fact, they become more than Kings, they become understood to be “Gods” amongst the locals in Kafiristan (Edlund, in choosing this literary reference, thus alludes to the developing Godstiel arc).  The two con-men do this by teaching a bastardized version of Freemasonry to the local priests. 

DRAVOT: “A god and a Grand-Master of the Craft am I, and a Lodge in the Third Degree I will open, and we’ll raise the head priests and the Chiefs of the villages!”

“‘It’s against all the law,’ I says {PEACHEY, narrating] ‘holding a Lodge without warrant from any one; and we never held office in any Lodge.’”

“‘It’s a master-stroke of policy,’ says Dravot. ‘It means running the country as easy as a four-wheeled bogy on a down grade. We can’t stop to inquire now, or they’ll turn against us.”

Similarly, we see Castiel being heralded as “God’s chosen” in Heaven by some of the angels:

RACHEL: “Castiel, we saw Lucifer destroy you.”

CASTIEL: “Well, I came back.”

RACHEL: “But Lucifer? Michael?”

CASTIEL: “They're gone.”

RACHEL: “It was God, wasn't it?”

CASTIEL: “No. It was the Winchesters. They brought down the Apocalypse.”

RACHEL: “But you beat the Archangels, Castiel. God brought you back. He chose you, Cas...To lead us.”

And we see Cas being seduced by Crowley into believing the same, in spite of his own better judgement.

CROWLEY: “You can save us, Castiel. God chose you to save us. And I think...Deep down...You know that...”

Back in Kipling’s tale, all goes well enough, until Daniel Dravot decides they are settled enough in their God-King positions, that he wishes to ask the locals for a wife:

“There’s another thing too,’ says Dravot, walking up and down. ‘The winter’s coming and these people won’t be giving much trouble, and if they do we can’t move about. I want a wife.’

“‘For Gord’s sake leave the women alone!’ I says [Peachey is narrating here]. ‘We’ve both got all the work we can, though I am a fool. Remember the Contrack, and keep clear o’ women.’

“‘The Contrack only lasted till such time as we was Kings; and Kings we have been these months past,’ says Dravot, weighing his crown in his hand. ‘You go get a wife too, Peachey — a nice, strappin’, plump girl that’ll keep you warm in the winter. They’re prettier than English girls, and we can take the pick of ’em. Boil ’em once or twice in hot water, and they’ll come as fair as chicken and ham.’”

This element of the narrative is paralleled in Edlund’s riff on Kipling by Castiel’s concern for the Winchesters, and for Dean in particular (who, in this parallel is equivalent to Dravot’s “wife”). 

CROWLEY: “The point is...You're distracted, and that makes me nervous.”

CASTIEL: “I am holding up my end.”

CROWLEY: “Ah, yes. But is that all you're holding? See...the stench of that Impala's all over your overcoat, Angel. I thought we'd agreed - no more nights out with the boys.”

The wife Dravot insists on being given, is so terrified of being married to a God that, in her wedding finery, she bites him when he tries to kiss her. This draws blood, alerting the locals to the fact that Dravot and Peachey are in fact not Gods, but mere mortals (who can bleed). Dravot is then executed by the now thoroughly rebellious locals, by being cast into a deep mountain gulley from a rope bridge (a symbolic fall from great heights) whilst Peachey is crucified by pine trees, but survives, and is thus set loose to beg his way back to India and tell his tale.

Crowley and Castiel’s alliance is likewise, eventually, blown apart by (in subtext) a “love interest” - Castiel’s complex, continuing care for the Winchesters in the midst of his betrayal of them. 

CASTIEL (to Crowley): “I'm only gonna say this once. If you touch a hair on their heads, I will tear it all down. Our arrangement -- everything. I'm still an Angel, and I will bury you.” 

But the significance of the “love interest”? 

Well, in Kipling’s world of men, she is a possession, a gift to be given, the cause of the breach of contract between the two con-artist “God-Kings”, someone who weeps but who is given no lines, “...covered with silver and turquoises, but white as death”. 

In Edlund’s story, because the (subtextual) “love interest” is also a man  (SPN also being a world, predominantly of men) he is someone with far more agency. 

And so, in 6x20, we get a final confrontation, a final emblem of mourning, not between Castiel and Crowley (Dravot and Peachey) but between Castiel and his “love interest”, at the end of the episode:

DEAN: “How'd you get in here?”

CASTIEL: “The angel-proofing Bobby put up on the house -- he got a few things wrong.”

DEAN: “Well, it's too bad we got to angel-proof in the first place, isn't it? Why are you here?”

CASTIEL: “I want you to understand.”

DEAN: “Oh, believe me, I get it. Blah, blah, Raphael, right?”

CASTIEL: “I'm doing this for you, Dean. I'm doing this because of you.”

DEAN: “Because of me. Yeah. You got to be kidding me.”

CASTIEL: “You're the one who taught me that freedom and free will --”

In Kipling’s tale, we have a bromance and a (fatal) love-story between Peachey and Dravot. Peachey emerges broken from their time in Kafiristan as (temporary) “God-Kings”, bearing the wizened, severed head of his nemesis and friend, Dravot. 

But in Edlund’s tale, we have a love-triangle. The threads of which, eventually play out over a much longer SPN arc, leading to Crowley’s “summer of love” in S10 with Demon!Dean and thus, to Crowley’s, inevitable, demise. Because, as lain down here so beautifully in 6x20, it’s abundantly clear that Crowley is the third wheel. And, despite the betrayals, the “affairs” with Crowley, it is the angel and the man who belong together.   

[lukes-writing]

Chapter 5: The Heap of Ashes

Project introduction | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Word count: 2800 Warnings: Profanity

September 23rd, 7:58 PM, the Heap of Ashes, Trinity Gate

The Heap of Ashes is, at first glance, an uninteresting hill which offers a nice view of the Trinity Gate cityscape, even though the view would be better if the hill was taller. All that’s on its top is a small chapel which has some backstory behind it. During the second civil war, it was a place where the people of all three territories could go and say a prayer. It was a sacred ground and nobody was ever attacked or killed there.

However, people tend to forget easily. The chapel has been abandoned and the religious needs of the city’s Christians can now be satisfied in a large, splendid church in the city center.

Sienna sees the silhouette of the chapel in front of her. She still doesn’t know what she should expect. She thinks what would happen if she stayed at the party and continued conversation with that cute guy. She starts to regret the decision to come here and considers returning to the party while it’s still underway.

But her curiosity forces her to keep going.

Now she sees there are some other people gathered in front of the chapel. She’s not naive enough to rule out the possibility she’s walking into some sort of trap, but she’s prepared even for this possibility. Her purse hides, besides other things, a small, yet efficient 9mm handgun.

And she knows how to handle it very well.

She comes closer to the group in front of the chapel and takes a closer look at the three people.

The man from the parking lot isn’t among them, but there is a girl who must be related to him somehow. She also wears long, fair dreadlocks and even her facial features are somewhat similar to him.

Sienna looks at the girl for a while longer. She’s that type of weirdo Sienna intentionally avoids while at school - hanging out with weirdos would put a dent in her reputation. She’s wearing a hippie-style dress and… damn, is she really barefoot?

The girl notices Sienna is looking at her and she approaches her. She has a strange smile on her lips, somehow absent, dreamy. Nevertheless, it doesn’t come out as creepy, just slightly uncanny. Sienna realizes she’s actually kind of cute, despite her face untouched by make-up, petite frame and apparent lack of feminine curves.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” the girl says with a peculiar sing-song voice and makes a curtsy - something Sienna has never seen a woman actually doing. “I’m Whisper.”

“Whisper?” Sienna replies, still figuring out how to feel about this girl. “That’s a nickname, right?”

Whisper lets out a ringing laugh. “No, that’s my actual name. But if you find it too strange, my second name is Johanna. Even though I still prefer Whisper. Or Wisp.”

“Sienna. Nice to meet you,” the older girl says. For some reason, she doesn’t feel a need to use her full name like she usually does. Then she gives Whisper a small smile.

The longer she looks at Whisper, the more oddities she finds. Earrings decorated with bird feathers are hanging from her ears. She’s wearing an excessive number of necklaces, pendants, bracelets and wristbands around her neck and wrists - she even has decorative bands around her ankles. Flowers are weaved into her hair.

Sienna wouldn’t call her beautiful. But there was a word which would describe her peculiar charm perfectly. What was the word? Yeah. Winsome.

Whisper lets out another laugh. “Girl, you’re looking at me like I was some kind of paranormal entity!” Her thin arm grabs Sienna around her waist. “Come, join us! No need to be afraid!”

Sienna’s hopes go up when she realizes the remaining two members of the group are men. But they quickly cease again after she gives them a closer look.

One of them is tall, but neither fit or good-looking. He is leaning against the chapel’s wall with his hands folded on his chest. Sienna likes to hang out with bad boys, but this one looks like a straight-up asshole. He gives her only one bored look and continues observing the cityscape below them.

The other one almost makes Sienna laugh, but she manages to gather the rest of her courtesy and hold it. For real though, that guy is incredibly short, with a ridiculous afro on his head. His futile attempt to grow some facial hair doesn't make him look any more manly. He looks like he desperately wants to be in another place.

With her friends around, Sienna would normally laugh at people like Whisper or the short guy. Now she realizes it’s not the best thing to do. She feels a bit insecure since she’s used to being surrounded by people as popular and beautiful as her. Now she has a company of three rather peculiar people.

She can still turn around and return to the party. But once again, her curiosity wins.

Then, the tall guy finally speaks with a rough, gruff voice. “Alright, ladies and… you,” he makes a gesture at the short guy. “I suppose we’re all here because we met the same weird dude with dreadlocks.”

“That’s uncle Wiccan!” Whisper bursts out. “No need to be afraid of him. He’s great!”

The tall man looks at her and raises his eyebrows. “Unbelievable. I would never guess you two are related somehow.”

Whisper scowls at his sarcasm, but remains silent.

“Does anyone know what does he want from us?” Sienna dares to ask. “Did he also talk about some kind of job offer when he spoke to you?”

“Y...yes, he did,” the short guy speaks timidly. “He promised me… a house.”

He seems to be intimidated by the tall guy; he’s constantly glancing at him, like he was expecting him to hurt him somehow. Sienna can see why. They are a textbook example of a bully and his victim.

“Same here,” the tall man utters. “But I wouldn’t be here if it was only up to me,” he gives a grim smile.

After another while of awkward silence, Whisper points at both of the guys. “Hey, you two, Sienna and I need to know your names! Not introducing yourself is rude.”

“Parker,” the tall man replies curtly.

The short one takes several deep breaths before answering. “Gary. Gary… Underwood.”

Another wave of silence is finally interrupted by Wiccan Salisbury finally emerging from inside the abandoned chapel. “Welcome!” he calls with a wide smile on his face. “I knew you would all arrive in the end, even though I had slight doubts with some of you,” he gives a knowing look to Sienna and Parker. “Curiosity is a bitch, right? But I can assure you that you made the right decision.”

“My ass,” Parker utters.

“Uncle Wiccan, hi!” Whisper squeals and rushes to the man, hugging him.

Wiccan laughs. “Wisp, I think it’s not the right time for this.”

The girl scowls and backs off.

Then, the man speaks to the four once again. “I presume my lovely niece told you already - my name is Wiccan Salisbury and in this story, I’m that mentor character which usually gets killed off later. I hope this won’t be the case, though.”

Whisper lets out another ringing laugh. Even Sienna giggles a little. The more she interacts with this strange man, the more she likes him.

“I know it sounds cliché and stuff, but once you enter this chapel, your life will never be the same again,” Wiccan continues in a more serious tone. “This is your last chance to turn around and leave. You will be free to go, without any consequences,” he looks at Parker.

The tall man seriously considers leaving - Sienna can see it in his eyes. But in the end, he stays, just like the remaining trio. Wiccan nods and gestures them into the chapel.

Even though the chapel is abandoned, its interior looks brand new. It’s nothing too opulent, just a few rows of pews, a pulpit in front of them and a detailed statue of crucified Christ above it. However, Whisper still feels the sanctity of this place. She tiptoes, trying not to make any noise which would disturb it.

They all advance in silence. The most prominent sound is the clacking of Sienna’s heels on the floor. Parker shuffles forward, limping heavily. Gary looks around with a gaping mouth.

“Do you know the first rule of videogames?” Wiccan speaks, his voice echoing through the chapel, violating the solemn peace. “When you’re in a church, always check the space behind the altar. There is almost always some kind of secret.” He walks behind the pulpit and grabs something on its backside, probably some kind of secret lever. A clattering sound resonates through the open space.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Parker spits out.

“Hey, watch your language! This is a sacred place!” Whisper scolds him. Parker just gives her an annoyed look which the girl endures.

Suddenly, a part of the wall underneath the Jesus statue slides to the side - hidden door. It reveals a shaft with an elevator car - something they would never expect here.

“We used to have a nice, old-school shaft with a cool spiral staircase, but some of the people who worked here before complained about having to walk the stairs every time they went here, so we had to modernize,” Wiccan explains. The elevator is rather large, enough for five or six people. At least its interior, which is made to resemble shiny dark wood, fits the local atmosphere well.

“Come on, step inside,” Wiccan urges them. “I know you’re suspicious and demand answers. I promise you’ll get them as soon as we descend.”

Wiccan hops into the elevator first. Sienna and Parker reluctantly follow her. Gary hesitates, but also steps in. There are no buttons in the elevator, just a wooden lever. Wiccan pulls it. The elevator car closes once again and starts to descend. The space is illuminated by a strip light on the ceiling.

The ride doesn’t last long. The door soon opens again and the group steps into a large, bright room which could be a modern conference room, just more homely. Several more light strips illuminate the room. The most prominent part is a large round white table in the center of the room, surrounded by several comfortable armchairs. Several smaller tables and armchairs are scattered around the room.

Whisper’s bare feet feel the coldness of the linoleum floor. She looks around the room. There are movie posters on the walls which ease the atmosphere. Her attention is dragged by a large bookshelf that occupies a whole half of one of the walls, contrasting with a high-performance desktop computer in the corner of the room.

There is a poster on the wall depicting Wiccan on a yellow background, looking into the camera and flexing his biceps. The letters above him read WICCAN DO IT.

“Kill me,” Parker sighs upon spotting the poster.

Wiccan stands in front of the large table and theatrically spreads his arms. “Welcome to The Society,” he announces. “A law enforcement unit in the matters of inhumans, supernatural occurrences and misuse of advanced or secret technologies. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Excuse me, but what the fuck?” Parker scowls.

“It may sound ridiculous, but you will soon find out,” Wiccan says, then he takes one of the seats and invites the rest to join. They sit like King Arthur’s knights - that was probably the purpose of this hall. Whisper squirms with barely contained excitement. Gary looks bewildered like always, Parker and Sienna just carefully wait for whatever might come next.

Wiccan casts his eye over the people he brought here. He already knows they are powerful as individuals. But the question remains - are they able to work as a team? Parker can’t be farther from a team player. Sienna’s arrogance could make her feel superior to others, which is wrong in a team. Gary has the opposite problem - his pathological timidness. And Wiccan already knows how whimsical can Whisper be.

This may be tough, but I believe the circumstances will make them a team after all.

Just a moment after they take a seat, one of the doors present in the room open and another person enters.

It’s a tall, graceful Afroamerican woman with a lean figure and a playful smile on her lips. Her long, pitch-black hair is tied into a messy top knot and she’s wearing a long, dark purple dress with wide short sleeves. The golden jewelry she’s wearing around her neck and wrists is especially prominent on her dark skin.

“So I see you brought the recruits,” she says with a sweet, smoky voice. “Mind if you introduced us?”

Wiccan smiles. “Okay. Let me introduce you to my beloved wifey, Ophelia Salisbury. Ophelia, meet the new recruits who will, hopefully, carry our legacy in this city. Parker Skellinger, Gary Underwood, Sienna Joy Corwin and Whisper Johanna Archer-Gutenberg.”

“Corwin?” Whisper squeals.

“Archer-Gutenberg?” Sienna shouts.

Ophelia giggles. “Looks like we have Juliet and Juliet here.”

“I think so,” Wiccan grins. “Girls, I know your families don’t get along particularly well, but could you try and leave these skirmishes behind? The less tension, the better.”

“Okay,” Whisper accepts immediately. “I won’t hate anyone just because my dad does.”

Sienna hesitates a bit longer. Her father, James Corwin, told her countless times that Jack Archer, Maria Gutenberg and their children are nothing but a bunch of sneaky opportunists who constantly try to sabotage the effort of the Corwin family.

However, Whisper doesn’t even look like one of them. That petite, barefoot girl with a dreamy smile on her face can never possess a threat to her family’s business. Sienna presumes she’s more like a black sheep of the family and has a leaning towards her uncle instead.

Parker sums it up when he frowns at Whisper and says: “Are you trying to tell me this is a child of Jack Archer, the famous entrepreneur? She looks like that type who hugs trees and doesn’t shave her armpits.”

Whisper returns him the furious gaze, then raises her arms to show Parker smooth, hairless underarms. “My skin sees a razor more often than your skin sees water,” she spits out.

Sienna giggles at both Whisper’s outburst and Parker’s reaction. She decides she likes that girl, no matter who her parents are. This is also the first time I admit that I like a loser, she realizes. She’s shocked about how much did her personality change in just two days.

“I guess they will have to work on their synergy,” Ophelia comments. “Remember when the Team Menhir formed? We became best friends practically overnight. You, me, Kirlian, Tara and Kazuki. We were so young, so unprepared for what was going to happen.

Wiccan kisses her on the cheek. “Yeah, some time passed indeed. But now, we can enjoy our retirement and let these do the dirty job,” he grins.

“This… this is starting to scare me,” Gary yowls.

Parker lets out a contemptuous cackle, but he also radiates nervosity. Just like Sienna who is usually confident about everything she does. The only exception is Whisper whose eyes shine with almost childish curiosity. Is it because of her personality, or because she already knows the mysterious man who brought them here?

“Come on, don’t be afraid!” Ophelia smiles at them with her perfect teeth. “Nobody is going to hurt you… at least not here.” If she expected her remark to ease the atmosphere, she was wrong. Gary looks like bursting into tears any minute now. Parker gives up his fight and lights himself a cigarette. The married couple gives him a look of disagreement, but they remain silent.

“One more thing before we start,” Wiccan says. “The Society’s teams always have five members, and, if you can count right, there are only four of you. That means…”

“You will be joining our team!” Whisper cheers.

“Not at all,” Wiccan puts her down. “The fifth member should be here soon, so in the meantime, why don’t you take a look around? This is going to be your workplace, after all.”

Parker, Sienna and Gary leave their seats rather reluctantly. Whisper literally jumps and starts to zealously scavenge the room. She’s weird indeed, but somewhat lovely, Sienna thinks. Out of her teammates, Whisper gave her the best impression so far. But then, there’s not really much to choose from.

Author’s Note

I wholeheartedly thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and if you did, please leave a comment, send me a message or share and let more people know about this story! You can also consider a small donation at www.paypal.me/lukassladky. Have a great day and stay tuned for the next chapter!

[graywyvern]

( "devour" via / lucie brock-broido via / @spaceliminalbot )

The Road Goes On Forever.

"I wanted to finish a comic about executive dysfunction" --@vimiyui

The Doorway.

dull skytravertine tart Clown Innocence Project & taillights gleaming

now is all our times have come myst'ry & its removal

Autmisia. Nautsplaining.

Hermann Nitsch (1938-2022)

Though my own art cuts its teeth on autotelic-complexity rather than visceral-simplicity, i have not been unmindful of other styles of engagement. I well remember first reading about Nitsch’s “Orgy-Mystery Theater” & the Viennese Actionists of the 60s [1], & feeling not only admiration, but a sense of (cultural) justice served.

Not only was the timing right (as a necessary emotional-adjunct to the Age of Aquarius—at least until Altamont & the Manson Family threw a monkey wrench into the whole narrative [2]—but also the “rebirth of ‘magic’ ”—[3] ), the place (Dr Freud’s hometown & most famous site of theoretical “id-repression”) could not have been better chosen. They performed quasi-rituals involving nudity, animal blood/guts, &, i suppose, improvised music [4]. --Something that had gotten squeezed out of Modernism by its relentless intellectualizing had returned. (Cohen: “Magic is Afoot”.)

Of course, it was also a bit cringeworthy (there being among the literal spectators, no doubt, more than a few who had been alive to witness the distinctly un-Dionysiac atrocities of Swastika wielders), & my sympathies fell not entirely on the side of the transgressors. (Momus: “Trangressors are the lab rats of consensus.” [5] ) And also a bit of an artistic dead-end [6]…as has been amply demonstrated by the artistic trajectory of American horror films [7].

Naturally, the whole issue of Animal Rights remained for the future to discover. Not to mention Toxic Masculinity.

One can note, in addition, that, though many if not all of the Actionists did get themselves arrested at first, this did not prevent them from eventually finding a safe niche in the bosom of the Art Establishment [8]. They were, after all, protected by: a group-name, reams of theory, & a lineage (performance art going back to the 20s, if not farther). There was no way to deny them their place in the discourse [9].

Like the guy who crucified himself on a Volkswagen: i wouldn’t do that myself [10], but it kind of delimits the possibilities of performance art, for me & anyone else who comes after.

If only civilization had indeed attained “the End of History” !—then we could go on a pilgrimage to our very own Mysteries of (Cyber-) Eleusis, & reminisce about the bad old days of the Upper Paleolithic (when painting was painting [11]--& theory nil). But looking now at Nitsch’s last artwork (red paint dropping down from all along the tops of three adjacent walls), what it evokes in me is nothing but the ugly fact that blood is still being shed, all over the earth, in school slaughters, soldier havoc, & “actions” by freelance terrorists of every ilk.

This isn’t even a reminder of something we forgot. It’s our normal (or—usually--mediated) reality. Did Art really need to leave behind the path of synecdoche after Bacon? There’s no mystery in this orgy, without artistic distance--only the unanswerable absurdity of lives cut short. Can we address instead the grief of the survivors?

“these summer grasses: the remains of warriors with their dreams”

(Bashō tr A. Summers)

Notes. 1. when I was myself in my 20s, & duly inspired to set, inside a sealed glass display at my senior college art show, a goblet containing pig blood from a local meat-processing plant. Title: “Take This”. (When i got it, the blood was still warm.) 2. Vietnam being the elephant in the room. 3. later commercialized to within an inch of its life, as New Age, Inc—in the beginning it was cool (trust me). 4. don’t forget the movie cameras. 5. it is hard to say whether Coum Transmissions, in the 70s, added anything—but they did give birth to Throbbing Gristle & Industrial Music. 6. i except Karen Finley’s 80s performances, with Karo syrup & yams, which gave artistic form to the trauma of child abuse. It may be argued that Kathy Griffin’s 2017 tweet of her with a dummy Trump-head covered in catsup also falls under this rubric. 7. Buttgereit’s exercises in deadpan pseudo-necrophilia can now be found at archive.org (enough said). 8. Nitsch appears to have left a foundation & two museums. Ernst Fuchs, the greatest painter of the later 20c, boasts only one. 9. Very different, of course, to try this as an Outsider... 10. from a conversation i once had with Jerry Hunt 11. It has been seriously argued that Lascaux & Altamira represent a high-water mark all subsequent painting has only declined from. (cf. Picasso’s maybe-quote)

20 April 2022

"Chaplains have been sent to campuses, as have therapy dogs."

[iartlife]

Chapter Five

Pt. I

THE KING

As it turns out, there were multiple werewolf attacks similar to the one they had in Parkvale. FBI man Hughes was leading the case across the nation. Lucky for the little college town that he happened to be in the right place at the right time to catch their killer. He spent the early evening on conference calls and keeping everyone on task. With rumors spreading like wildfire and a quarantine to reassemble, the police in the small town had their hands full. It was a shame the city cops had already gone back home. The extra hands would have been nice.

At least there was a cure in the making, supposedly. Hans wasn't sure why they believed he would assist them. Gamble, the man whose name he should know given how long he's known him. Apparently the lab in Ash City was working on a cure as well, but they had made no progress as of the last update. Hopefully Gamble was really on their side. Hans wished he could do more to help.

The press conference was in five minutes. He was nervous. Agent Hughes said he would not have to speak and that he didn't need to even be there. But Hans wanted to be there; put a face to the beast that wasn't a killer's. His face. He wanted to make sure werewolves didn't get a bad name because some had been cursed. He felt the times would allow them to finally be accepted, especially if he showed that a werewolf was willing to help with the investigation of one of his own.

They exited the police station to meet a crowd. Cameras and their newscasters from every station had gathered, even one from the college. Behind them were layers of people who were speaking in hushed tones that began to fade as Hughes positioned himself behind the podium. Gladstone and a few other officers lined up against the station behind Hughes. Hans stood next to Gladstone, arms folded in front of him. This was going to be on tv. He wondered if it would be live, mostly because he felt like he was going to puke.

"Good evening, everyone." Hughes began. He waited for the murmurs to die off. "We appreciate your patience in letting us gather enough information before making a statement today. As I'm sure many of you heard, this was not the only attack to happen last night. Across our nation there were a total of 34 alleged werewolf attacks. All of them in major cities except the one here in Parkvale. This leads us to believe it was meant to be in Ash City. We are still trying to figure out the details on that difference. I can't speak for everywhere...but the attacker we had here was definitely...a werewolf."

The crowd exploded into an uproar, people screaming the questions they could contain no longer. Hughes raised a hand and patiently waited for them to calm down.

When the shouting faded, he continued. "It was confirmed by a local pack leader, Mr. Hans Ulrich, that the survivors of the attack were not infected with, what we're going to call, werewolfism."

Murmurs again. A handful of the crowd directed their gaze to him. It was to be expected.

"However, we did not realize until the quarantine was released that the killer, Nathan Nguyen, was ill." The spectators stirred. Hughes was doing very well considering the situation.

"A cure is being developed, but in the meantime we ask that anyone who was scratched or bitten please return to the hospital. You will be released once vaccinated with the cure upon its completion. If all goes according to plan, everyone in Parkvale will be cured in just over twenty-four hours from now. We will also distribute it to the other infected cities once it's finished."

"What if it takes longer? What if it doesn't work?" Someone shouted. There were some grunts of support for the question.

"If you could please save your questions until afterwards. I realize the discoveries today have taken their toll on everyone. I see this working out for all of us if we continue to work together. The police force here has been invaluable in the absence of my team, and we wouldn't have found the killer so quickly this morning without the reinforcements who volunteered from Ash City Police Department."

Hughes clears his throat. "Today I have learned that many things, which I previously thought were purely in works of fiction, are undoubtedly real: werewolves, curses and magic. I'm sure we have barely scratched the surface in our investigation and we contunue to learn more as we dive deeper into this case. My team and I are working hard to find more answers, for we have reason to believe that someone is behind this. If anyone has information pertaining to this, we ask you contact your local police."

The agent straightens his posture and pans over the crowd. "Now, if anyone has any questions, I will answer them to the best of my ability."

Everyone began shouting. Hughes waited for it to simmer down.

The first to get their question heard was a man in the back. "Who would want to cause such chaos?"

"That's what we are trying to figure out. We have a few leads to follow that will hopefully give us an answer." Hughes replied calmly. He seemed to be slowly lulling the crowd into a less noisy state.

"What is going to happen to the killer?"

"He will be held in a special cell at the Maximum Security Prison over fifty miles from here which is isolated and based on the other side of the mountain. The gentleman who came to escort him there informed me that the warden is working on more specialized cells due to this incident."

Next was a girl closer to the front. "Hans Ulrich, the proprietor of the mountain resort, is a werewolf?"

Hughes nodded to Hans. "Yes, he has been consulting on the werewolf aspect of this case and put us in contact with a man who is familiar with this kind of illness or rather curse."

"If it is not the fear of being turned into a werewolf, what concern is there about this curse?" Asked a reporter.

"It appears to affect the mind of it's victims. It makes them extremely aggressive but melts their brain in the process, leading to permanent damage."

"Only werewolves had the curse last night, how do you know it will affect humans?"

"Werewolves are humans that have slightly altered DNA. They do not get sick the same way we do. The only way they can get an illness is through magic, which we have been informed everyone is susceptible to."

"Aren't officials working on a cure?" Asked another.

"Yes they are, but I believe the more magic knowledgeable people we have to help the better."

"Are there any more werewolves in the area?" Asked the lady from channel two news.

"Well, yes."

"How many are there? And where are they?"

He looked back at Hans again, his brow furrowed. Hughes didn't ask him about his pack or other werewolves, they were a bit distracted with other matters. He was glad he attended after all.

Hans stepped forward to stand next to Hughes. He took a deep breath before he spoke. Don't throw up. "My own pack consists of over fifty, but many of them do not live here. I feel it is not my place to tell you who the individuals are. There are a number of other packs in the surrounding area that I know of but their numbers I could only guess at."

A younger man over to the left in the crowd started pointing at Hans and yelling. "How do we know he's not lying!? Change for us!"

Murmurs cautiously reenforced the demand.

Hans technically could do a half turn but he really didn't have the energy. The moon wasn't even out yet. Besides, he wasn't some circus animal here to perform. "Sir, a werewolf cannot turn whenever he pleases."

The man only became more upset, two larger officers began heading in his direction. "I call bullshit!" He started yelling obscenities and other insults. Hughes nodded to the officers to escort the man away.

"What threat do you pose to ourselves and our families?"

"No more than you are to yourselves. We have lived among you for centuries. We are your neighbors, fellow business owners and friends. A killer werewolf is just as uncommon as a regular human murderer. We are still mostly human, and the majority of us want to live a normal life just like everyone else." Hans remembered he should probably breathe.

"Why have you been hiding for so long?"

"The attempt for my kind to be commonly known has occured many times in the past. It has always ended in hunts after us and the unneccesary loss of lives on both sides. I came forward today to help with the investigation so that it wasn't presumed all werewolves were killers. This is my attempt to take a step in what I believe is the right direction. I hope to someday see a time where we can live side by side as equals and comrades, instead of us hiding in the shadows."

"Why wait until now to reveal yourself?"

Hans didn't know how to answer. He supposed he could have done or said something sooner but that was against their nature. Werewolves had always lived below the radar, except for the 'happy' few that got themselves crucified hundreds of years ago. He was already taking a huge risk for all of his kind by standing there and saying 'I am a werewolf' today.

"Please forgive our hesitance, but understand that we all learn very young that keeping the secret is crucial. There was a time when we were killed for being ourselves. The fact that my head is still attached makes me believe as a society we are ready to embrace the truth." That was the best he could come up with.

"That will be all." Stated Hughes.

The officers filed back into the station, Hans and Hughes followed them. The crowd roared with a mixture of applause, added questions and the newscasters addressing their cameramen. Once back inside, just about everyone sighed in relief.

"My boss might kill me." Everyone looked at Hughes. "I was supposed to keep this under wraps but because of the circumstances I believe it was better this way."

There was silence for a long time.

Hans was the first to speak. "Anyone want to give me a ride home?"

"If possible, could you stay in town for another day? There's a lab tech from Quantico who would like to examine you tomorrow for a baseline to compare Nguyen to. If that's okay, I mean."

"Oh, sure." Hans was a little dumbfounded. "Just a ride to a motel then perhaps?"

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[rennyji]

July 5th tweets

July 5th tweets...

i don't know where i first heard about it, but today, for the first time, ever, beyond portions, outside of the diet i adopted, i ate ice cream till i got sick (or till my stomach couldn't take anymore)...not just any ice cream...ben and jerry's chocolate fudge brownie iceCream-

- did you know one container of ben and jerrys chocolate fudge brownie ice cream contains 110 grams of sugar? i mean like orange juice contains 20 grams of sugar. low sugar orange juice contains 10-11 grams of sugar...the ice cream contains 110 grams of sugar...wow!

so a friend of mine got picked up by the police for getting drunk and roaming the streets at right. The police picked him up and dropped him off at a mental hospital. -

-you know its the most ridiculous thing. if ur dealing with a drunk, get him sober at your precinct with coffee or whatever and connect him with his family. That's probably what the Carl Winslow of Family Matters police would do. -

-Nowadays, the f*in police and all the weaklings in life try to use mental health as a weapon. If you raise your voice against a bully, in the spirit of victimizer v.s. victim, the victim will be held accountable for reacting. -

- it leads to a bunch of inept clowns running a show or being with power. In stalking me, perhaps the focus should be things like that, what is bringing this country and "lack of a culture" culture down. -

-Poor manufacturing, poor quality clothes, police who don't connect/be friendly and operate form a distance, mental health being used as a weapon, a mass of people conspiring against one individual - problems galore. The losers of orchestrators want a show, there's there show.-

- I come from a family owning an internationaSchool or w/political connections in another country. Our level of what's financially acceptable is attune 2 our culture &our family. All of a sudden Im getting criticized 4 using my family house 4a homeGym. Not 2say Im any1 special.-

- but to suddenly be held down by a foreign country of America's values? Why are the orchestrators limiting and confining my family for the sake of their show? F* you for trying to make us your normal.

 U know, the other day, i was telling my popz that im feeling fatigued despite four cups of coffee. he randomly suggests doing a series of blood work and body tests. I mean..why? weren't there some obvious reasons? isn't exercise, proper diet, lack of stress, key in all that?-

- if the suggestions are because of the orchestrators, are they aware of medical connections I have, my mom being a nurse practitioner, and the high end health care I experienced up until their arrival, before their mere blood tests? The things done for show are ridiculous...

- when i talk to people about my high end notions of consciousness, theres what i want 2 share &not. are the orchestrators, of this ... overly physical culture ... reacting in (i mean take a step back & analylze) primitive ways of wonder & understanding at what I'm talking about?

- so where is all this coming from? well under the hat of trying to assist me, call it paranoia, i get the feeling the orchestrators want to do meddling in my family life...my sibling moved off to Pennsylvania, i'll be on my way in time...whatever they may perceive as wrong in-

-the family of another culture, there was one universal, all encompassing solution that would have solved all the other problems. That solution wouldve been the progression of my life, a better job, a wife, a family...but the orchestrators, in whatever literal planet there on-

- <-there can't be a better example of that expression than these people) want to get involved in our lives put it on halt for the people of another country. No offense, ur cool, all the best to you. But Y should we be slaves, contrary 2 how our community sees us, 4 ur culture?-

- i mean what do your people do for us? I had a confrontation with the police the other day and one of ur blondes, insult to injury, steals my parking space, offers water to her white counterparts of police officers...couldnt she mind her own business and stay in her house?

i come from Hindustan...India...once known as the Land of the Hindus. while the religion has lost its overall way among some people, @ the heart of it is expansion of the mind & being One with the Divine. -

-It helped me understand Christianity. It helped me understand the oneness of Communion.

- The mind &Oneness with the Divine is somethingCore 2our country. &here come the American orchestrators...not b/c Im arrogant...but in a headBangingWay...11 years of...what the H*ll is this? my family needs me &my leadership, but they can't talk 2me under theTermsOfThisNonsense.

- anyway i said a bunch of stuff that in hindsight is all over the place...probably an example of stream of consciousness...but moving on...

under the terms and conditions of the "situation" set by the orchestrators, -

-Mom tells me to let her speak for 1 minute without interruption. She starts saying false statements. She screws up dates, reasons thing transpired the way they did-doing this after telling me I can’t speak, in a “situation, raises the suspicion-

- she is deliberately saying inaccurate things to make me look in a negative light to those this is being relayed.For my records, and showing I always do the right thing, in an unprecedented manner, I contacted the FBI and wrote hundreds of pages to them, called local police,-

- contacted Vice Presidents of schools, contacted my parents…you all play this game with one who does not show interest in taking part. For what I do have reasons and purpose. -

-Mixing that with cr*p…realize, at least at the point this is over, whenever that is, I am not liable for my actions after taking immeasurable pains to expose truth. You want a b*tch? Well remember this dog bites. -

-You want a fight for entertainment, ur gonna get h*ll of a lot of entertainment. And regardless of what you say, end of the day you have a feel for this, orchestrators, who’ve gotten for too comfortable in being at their distance.

- moving on...

So when my dad decided to pray like a pagan from older times, contrary to what it says in the Bible: go into your room and close the door and speak to ur Father…-

-like I said when my dad decided to pray aloud, I guess he thought it wise, under one influence or another, one reason or another, to say give me “karchya shakti”. -

-This translates literally to vision strength. While I don’t know what it means, one can infer it means insight to present day things.-

-Gee dad, mind torment and games, parents betraying me when power rests in their choices, people lie to me when power rests in their choices, I’m not interested in money, fame, or whatever, and have my own connections, -

-and people act based on instructions or the influence/guidance of a those who are strangers to me, I’m relayed in several forms…I mean where is insight missing?-

-The level of relaying goes into alleged thinking and what I see...so what am I missing in terms of "karchya shakti"? Only thing I don't get is what is tying my parents hands? Is my life in danger? -

-For justice, if, you my parents, can betray ur son, u can let me go. If Mary can accept Jesus crucified, let justice prevail. That is my wish.

[dailyaudiobible]

07/20/2018 DAB Transcript

2 Chronicles 1:1-3:17, Romans 6:1-23 , Psalms 16:1-11, Proverbs 19:20-21

Today is the 20th day of July. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian and, of course, it's a pleasure and an honor to be here with you today as we continue forward in our week. Of course, we’re getting to the end of our week but we’re at the beginning of a new book. We’ll begin 2 Chronicles today and there’s not really anything to tell. We talked about the books of Chronicles when we began first Chronicles. We’ve reached second Chronicles, but that's just a delineation. This was all one larger scroll that had been broken apart for ease of finding references. And generally, we come to the end of David's reign and move into Solomon's reign. And that's where we find ourselves. And that’s sort of the delineation here in the books of Chronicles. So, we begin. 2 Chronicles chapter 1 verse 1 through 3:17 today. And we’re reading from the Christian Standard Bible this week.

Commentary:

Okay. So, over the last several days in Romans we’ve gone back to Abraham and realized that it was his faith in God and not his obedience to a law that was the activator for God's promise to him. We’ve learned that the law's purpose was to reveal our helplessness and inability to achieve perfection before God. In other words, in our own strength, we will never be able to stand before God and claim that we deserve to be there because we have achieved perfection. We also learned that even while we were enemies, alienated, estranged from God, He loved us so much that He came to rescue us and that he actually wants a relationship with us. And I chuckle because it’s like, if someone is willing to die for you, than they love you, and they won’t to have a relationship with you. So, within that context Paul discussed sin in our reading from Romans today. He asked the question, should we keep on sinning so that God could be more gracious to us. Of course, Paul denounced the idea. He said, we know that our old sinful selves were crucified with Christ so that sin can lose its power over us so that we’re no longer the slaves of sin. So, let’s think about this. The idea that sin will always be an ongoing part of our lives is really not supposed to be our reality, but this is not something we can achieve our own. Like, brute force isn’t gonna get us to not sin, right? Even though we believe in Jesus, we cannot on our own lead a sinless life that leads us to perfection without Gods help any more than the Jewish people could achieve righteousness before God by obeying the law, which is Paul's point. But his point is also that we’re no longer on our own. When we put our faith in Jesus, we underwent a spiritual transformation. Right? So, the person that we were without God, that person ended and we were re-created or reborn into a new life, completely, one intertwined with the divine nature of God through Jesus. Sin isn’t the default posture anymore, which is why the good news of the gospel is good news. This is all going to boil down to who and what we choose to obey. That's what Paul said, and I'm quoting him here, “don't you know that if you offer yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of that one you obey, either of sin leading to death, or of obedience leading to righteousness.” So, when we look at this clearly, some things become obvious. We don't have to live with one foot in darkness and the other in God's kingdom. In fact, what that would be is the most uncomfortable way to live, probably at all. That's what the gospel offers, like a halfway in. We were invited to live as new creatures who are no longer enslaved the darkness in any way. That's the offer and it's impossible to move in that direction without cutting ties with anything that would chain us to any other outcome than this collaborative life of faith with God. So, let’s give that some thought today.

Prayer:

Holy Spirit, we invite you into the places where we continue to choose to be enslaved to sin. This isn't supposed to be and doesn't have to be our reality, but we realize that every time we cross those thresholds into sin we are making choices to do it, and at times feel powerless to do anything about it because we have no power to do anything about it. What we fail to do often is to submit ourselves, which is also a difficult thing at times. What we fail to do is run to you for protection. And, so, Holy Spirit show us the ways that were exposing ourselves to the darkness and allowing it to seep into our lives and allowing it to wreak havoc with us. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In Jesus’ name we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, its home base, it's where you find out what’s going on around here. So, be sure to check in.

Pray for brothers and sisters at the Prayer Wall. Check out how to connect on social media. Find the resources in the Daily Audio Bible shop.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that dailyaudiobible.com as well. There is a link on the homepage and I thank you for your partnership as we move our way through the summer time. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And as always, if you have a prayer request or comment, 877-942-4253 is the number to dial.

And that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Good morning DAB good morning DABbers. This is Brady from __ Georgia. I’m calling to ask you all to pray for my mother and not just the one time but, you know, not to be selfish, but, you know, nonstop, without cease. Her name is Rose Marie O’Neill. And she suffers with a mental disorder. In her mind, she feels that she’s being attacked, that there are lasers in the sky that are being shot down at her and causes her great pain. I recently relocated her here to live with me in Georgia because she had a meltdown where she left out of her home and she was walking around the neighborhood in a nightgown when it was cold. The neighbors called the local authorities. They took her to the hospital and there she was admitted to the state hospital. And, so, we finally got her to a point where she was cognitive to say that she has a son and my contact information. I was able to get information and then relocate her to Georgia with me. But, you know, it’s all new. And, so, I’m asking you for me, I’m asking that you all would pray for her that she would be restored, her mental health, and then for me to give me strength because it’s all new for me. She’s afraid to even go to the restroom. Sometimes at night, you know, __ it’s like she lost control of her bladder, her bowels, so she wears diapers. And, so, like I said, it’s just __. And then on top of that if you could pray for my daughter Hilary, that she can find employment and that God would really just touch her and give her the ability to...

Hallelujah. Hey it’s Matthew Fouts. It’s July 17th, 2018. It’s nine years for me since I gave my life to Christ. I was listening to the Daily Audio Bible walking around the yard in such a few months before that day. And there was a man, his name was David S. I worked with him. He was a fork truck driver. And he came in he knocked on my office cube. He said hey, come to this meeting were going to build this place full of Christian men. And I was going to church a little bit at the time. I was listening to the Daily Audio Bible. So, I figured, hey, I’m a Christian man. So, I went to that meeting and I heard a gospel. I heard about Jesus, born of a virgin and lived to sinless, perfect life. He died on the cross and He’s raised from the dead man. And it made sense to me. And I gave my life to Christ and I honestly didn’t think He could do anything. But He changed everything. He’s healed by relationship. He delivered me from a pornography addiction. He delivered me from depression, anxiety. Jesus is Lord man. And if He did it for me He’ll do it for anybody out there. So, my prayer today is for the person that hasn’t yet heard the gospel, hasn’t yet read the Daily Audio Bible. I pray that those doors be open, that they hear it, that they receive Jesus, are healed, delivered, set free, saved in Jesus’ name. That’s my prayer and I know you’ll all agree with me because that’s the will of God. It’s His will and that none should perish but that all should come to him. All should come to repentance He says. So that’s a change of mind, change of heart. That’s what he does. He loves us and I love you because he first loved me man. God is real. It’s nine years and He’s never let me down. You know what? He’s the same yesterday, today, and forever. God bless you. I love you.

This is Michael from North Georgia. I don’t usually call in that much. I’ve only called in maybe two or three times and requested prayer. The particular reason being I love to listen to other people’s requests because it gives me something to pray for and I’m not really the type of person to ask for much. But the few times that I’ve called in I’ve requested prayer for my wife because she was sick and she’s getting better but she’s not 100%. So, please continue to pray for my wife, Sandy, she has a lung disease called vasculitis. She will probably, unless the Lord decides to heal her anytime soon, will have that for the rest of her life. She also has a heart condition, something, cardio myopathy, or something to do the heart, heart races. And one sides enlarged. And she’s a diabetic and she has thyroid trouble as well. So she’s, it’s a real hard struggle for her day-to-day. My daughter Abby, that I requested prayer for. She’s 15. Her blood sugar level has stabilized for the most part. She’s doing a lot better and she got to come home. And my little brother Wesley, he passed away Thursday night, Friday morning of this week. On Friday the 13th he died.  They found him dead in his house. He was really sick and he didn’t get better. God brought him on home. So, today I am going to bury my little brother. Please pray for me that I will be able to find the joy of the Lord again in this. I know that God’s got him and I know He’s holding him close. But where else do we hear. And I need the prayer from every one to keep me. Thank you for every one of you in the name of Jesus.

Good afternoon Daily Audio Bible family. This is Chandra calling from Maryland. I want to get everything out. I had to pray before I called because I get really nervous. First, I have to say thank you Brian, Jill, and everybody who does the behind the scenes work that makes everything possible. Thank you guys so much. Well, I want to say, first to Keisha, I was listening to the broadcast from the 14th of July and I was hearing Keisha’s request and how she mentioned about how what we may pray for, it will come through, but it may not come through in the way that we pray for it. I’m just saying verbatim, how everyone may interpret things. I do understand, I do want to share a short testimony. I have shared with you guys how I’ve been dealing with multiple sclerosis and I’ve been dealing with being confined to a wheelchair, which is a whole other story. I pray vigilantly that the Lord help me get back in the pool and once I get back in the water that will help me to become more able to and stronger to get out of the wheelchair and do other things. Well, the Lord’s answering my prayer but not in an expected way. He actually is having me in this water aerobics class where I would have to use muscles that I haven’t used in a long time. And just by the fact that I’m going there and I’m able to get out of the wheelchair and get into the pool and exercise even though my legs are weak, it’s being a testimony to people who see my progress or see what I’m going through. And I just want to share that with any…