#fidey

[annydraw-chan]

So, here the Lamb crew before the hunt and executions. Their original versions are here. (Vita, my Lamb, has slightly different hairstyle here. It's not only in their past version, but also in ingame one. I'll make small redesign soon)

A little bit from their pasts. I'm not gonna tell about how they met them yet, but I'll tell about sheep lore in my au. All the sheep and lambs lived in their village (probably somewhere near the place where the cult camp is located in the game). Our lambs lived there, but in different parts, so some of them didn't know each other in the past. However, Vita and Fidey knew each other and were childhood friends. They both believed that one day one of the two of them (Fidey thought they were together, and Vita thought Fidey would do it) would release The One Who Waits from prison, after which their village would live under his protection. After all, Bishops have already come to them with not the best intentions. The sheep had that prophecy from the game, but without the "last lamb" part, which made everyone just think that one of them would do it someday, and everyone would be happy. There was something of TOWW worship in there, but it was something recommendatory, and not everyone followed it, and those who followed wore a pendant with the eye of thr Red Crown as a symbol of their faith. Vita and Fidey were among those who believed and worshipped TOWW. The other three did not follow him because: Clare did not want to follow any particular Bishop, Aquite was polite to other Bishops, Nave was indifferent to worshipping anyone.

(I think I'll add some information about their families, but I'm still not sure about this part of their stories)

[elfboyeros]

Purus Sanguis | Putridum Fidei

Death & Rebirth

🚨Stories in this series contain suggestive/triggering themes [Abuse, Death, etc.] if you wish not to engage with this series, I completely understand.

 I have too many voices...

Big Masterlist | Purus Sanguis Masterlist 

 In the supposed practice of communicating with and reanimating the deceased at a funeral, practitioners see the memorial as inconvenient as it is more difficult to try to commune with the dead, given the number of people present and the fact that it is cowardly to steal a corpse.  Given this fact, often, you will find a necromancer or two in the graveyard or cemeteries, digging up bodies after dusk rather than at funerals.

Especially funerals where a catholic priest has decided to turn the whole thing into a sermon and not a remembrance of life, and it is making Adeline nauseous. Not only because she dislikes her uncle, the priest preaching, or the fact that she is a witch, but also because this is not what her father wanted for his funeral.

She knows he wanted people to gather and celebrate his life, play good music, converse, and dance with another rather than have people smile that he lived rather than cry that he was gone. Her father also wanted to be cremated, save for having him buried alone since his late wife was cremated, but obviously, it didn’t work out like that. Frozen out by her uncle, Adeline had no say in her father’s funeral services because she was “too young,” a complete oversight given that she had been by her father’s side almost every single day for the past six months before passing in his sleep.

“Cremate me so you can hold me close, like your mom,” he told her.

Yet her uncle is reciting scripture, almost breaking a pulpit that isn’t his, continuously stating: “Mario was a good man.”

No, he was great. Genuine, funny, caring, a great father! When they had to move to Romania from Oregon, Mario did everything he could to distract Adeline from the death of her mother. When they had to move in with Ion and his wife, Capri, when he got sick, he did everything to make sure that Ion was at least decent to her.

She was his only child, and even with cancer, he was going to make sure she smiled!

“My brother committed many sins, but… but he was a good man,” Ion remarks before continuing to drone on.

Adeline clicks her tongue against the back of her teeth while sitting in the back pews of the funeral home before standing and leaving the chapel.

The sins of loving a witch and having a heretic daughter are what Ion is talking about. It is annoying! It's not a remembrance of her father; it’s a summons specifically for her, specifically against her.

At least the funeral house is nice. Warm and almost comforting, dark wood paneling and a vintage design peppering the cream wallpaper. Photos of landscapes and different beautiful scenery intermixed with snapshots of various individuals.

A large black and white portrait of two women, with poliosis, one standing, and one sitting, with a baby girl no older than a toddler, also with poliosis, on one of the walls surrounded by several pictures.

“Lovely, huh?”

The masculine voice is like honey; however, it is not trustworthy. Turning around to find the origin of the voice, she sees a tall boy around her age, dressed in a suit, a brooch of a Safflower pinned onto his jacket. He looks similar to the woman in the portrait, with black hair and a white forelock; however, he is very pale, with dark red eyes gazing at her, full of a beautiful curiosity.

“It is,” Adeline mutters.

“I can’t tell you how many times I just sit out here and stare at it,” He remarks, standing next to her.

“You work here?” She questions, looking over at him.

“More or less,” he shrugs, “It's like interning, but when your parents own the place, there is this really thin line between working and enjoying the vibes.”

Adeline tried to look at him without seeming disgusted; however, her expressions failed her, making his cheeks burn once he met her emerald gaze, “Not to say that being at a funeral is good vibes… But I mean, some people have had some really rad vibes at some funerals I’ve been to—I’m sorry!”

He was rambling, and his outburst of an apology made her giggle, “I’m sure you are here a lot,” she comments, “and to you, it’s comforting.”

“You have no idea,” he sighs, “I’m sorry about Mario.”

“Is it bad that I’m tired of hearing sorry?” Adeline wondered out loud.

“I shouldn’t really be the authority on how people should mourn,” The boy replies, “Son of funeral homeowners and a young vampire, I haven’t been around long enough to really mourn anyone… Who was he to you?”

“My dad.”

The boy instantly sucks in air through his teeth before he furrows his brow, “Then should you be seeing in the first rather than alone in the back?” he quickly asks.

“My uncle and I don’t get along,” Adeline admits.

“Ah… well I hope—I’m… I'm gonna be honest, I don’t know what to really say other than I’m sorry for your loss,” he replies.

Adeline sighs, “Thanks.”

“Is there a reason you and your uncle don’t get along?” The boy inquires.

“Too long to list. The big one right now is that he didn’t cremate my dad, even though that’s what he wanted.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“I tried; he doesn’t like listening to any woman.”

The boy lets out a laugh, “Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles slightly as Adeline grimaces at him, “He just sounds like the complete opposite of my dad… maybe that’s why he doesn’t like him.”

Adeline rolls her eyes, “My dad wanted me to have a piece of him like I do with my mom,” she touches the small cylinder urn hanging around her neck, “And now he’ll just be buried in the church graveyard.”

“No, he won’t,” the boy comments, “It’s a clause in all contracts signed with the funeral home, and unless requested otherwise, that the deceased will be laid to rest at the city cemetery. My dad even said that it was weird that Ion didn’t request to have him buried on church grounds. My mom made a comment that Ion probably didn’t read the contract and just signed.”

“Is there anything about cremation?” Adeline asks.

“Not for your case, I don’t think; I’m sorry.”

“Well, it was worth asking,” she sighs, “At least he’s not going to be buried at the church. Little wins, rights.”

The boy grimaces as Adeline turns away from the portrait, the fabric of her veil brushing against the back of his hand. “Thanks for talking to me…” she says, causing him to turn around as she stands close to the chapel doors.

“Rudolph,” the boy comments with a smile.

“Adeline,” she responds, flashing him a sad, small smile before walking back into the chapel as the service concludes.

Rudolph takes a seat on one of the plush chairs in the lobby area, knuckles resting against his lips in a fist and his legs crossed, staring at the painting of his mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother while he thinks as everyone in the funeral chapel shuffles out.

“Rudolph?!” He jumps at the sound of his father’s voice, “Sorry, son, I don’t mean to frighten you.”

“The funeral is over, little prince,” Wilhelm comments as Rudolph looks around.

Rudolph jumped up and followed his father into his office. “Are we going to the burial?” he asked.

“No, I had quite enough of Mr. Culture’s berating. I would rather be at home with your mother than stand out in the rain while that man gives another sermon as they put that man on the ground,” Wilhelm lamented, putting on his coat.

“Did you know that he had a daughter?” Rudolph asks.

“I believe so, yes.”

“Did you know she had no say in her father’s funeral?” Rudolph asks him to follow him out of the funeral home.

“I believe Ion said she was rather young—”

“Dad, she’s my age!” Rudolph remarks loudly before getting into the passenger seat of the car, “She said Mario wanted to be cremated, and he’s getting buried as we speak.”

Wilhelm sighs, “We need to—”

“We don’t need to do anything, Rudolph,” Wilhelm interrupted as he drove, “I’m not robbing a grave just so you can please a girl you like.”

“This isn’t about my feelings toward Adeline,” Rudolph argues.

“Is it not?”

“I don’t even know her! Th—this—this is about being a good person! Ion is clearly an asshole—”

“Rudolph!”

“What is it because I called him an asshole?! Momma called him worse!” Rudolph scoffs, sinking into the passenger seat, “If momma told you that her mom or her babushka wanted to be cremated, but they were being buried instead…”

Wilhelm sighed, tapping a finger against the stirring wheel, “You’re thinking about it now!”

“I don’t like it when you use your mother against me.”

Rudolph snickered, “It’s very commendable what you want to do, son, and if I were in your shoes, I would want to do the same, but it’s just not feasible,” Wilhelm admits.

“Dad, both of her parents are dead,” Rudolph mentions, “She has her mother’s ashes in a necklace; I think she just wants them together.”

Wilhelm sighs, “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.”

The house is warm once they enter it, smelling of a nice Christmas potpourri with hints of evergreen, cinnamon, vanilla extract, and cranberries. Soft conversations, acting like a siren song, call both men into the kitchen, where Belladonna and Aphrodite are putting away groceries, and Noveletta, Odette’s stepdaughter, is sitting at the kitchen table.

“Welcome home,” Aphrodite remarks with a smile.

Wilhelm toddles over to Belladonna while Rudolph begins to help Aphrodite and Belladonna put up all the groceries. “It’s quiet,” the eldest vampire mentions, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist.

“Odette took Violetta with her to pick Hendrick up from the airport,” Belladonna informed.

“I was really hoping to see him when I got home from my classes,” Noveletta mumbles with a pout as she does her homework, blowing her blonde hair out of her face. “Or at least go to the airport with Mum.”

Wilhelm lets out a small chuckle before attempting to kiss Belladonna’s cheek, “What?” he asks as she dodges his lips. “Where are my Christmas decorations?”

“… In the… attic.”

“I asked you to get them down Sunday,” Belladonna comments.

“Swan, I’m sorry—”

“Sorry, isn’t my Christmas decorations.”

“Belladonna,” Wilhelm groans quietly, “Let me kiss you.”

“Get my Christmas decorations, and then you kiss me all you want,” she whispers.

Rudolph chuckled at his father’s actions before Belladonna poked his cheek with the end of one of her fingernails, “What’s wrong, duckie.”

“It’s nothing, momma,” Rudolph sighs, swatting her hand away, “The funeral just took a lot out of me.”

Belladonna hums at him with narrow eyes, “Really, momma, I’m fine!”

“Lying to me isn’t wise, duckie.”

“I’m not lying!” Rudolph exclaims, “It was just upsetting. Okay, really, I’m fine.”

“I dunno,” Odette remarks, entering the kitchen, brown hair, magenta-eyed toddler in her arms, “It sounds like he’s lying.”

Rudolph sighed, rolling his eyes, “I’ll be in my room,” he scoffs, waving at Violetta before heading to his room.

Happy musing and joyous conversations fade as the young Con Vester boy heads upstairs, collapsing on his bed. He’ll tell his mother, eventually, maybe when his father says no to graverobbing. His mother’s input would undoubtedly help in getting Adeline her father’s ashes. Although maybe Wilhelm was right… Adeline is cute…

As the evening drew on and the skies drew darker, Wilhelm kissed Belladonna’s temple as she lay in the comfort of their bed, “I’ll be back soon,” he remarked softly.

“Where?” She asks.

“To go rob a grave with our son.”

“Mhm,” she hums, “how exciting. Why does he want to rob a grave? Mortuary practice?”

“No,” Wilhelm mutters, “He wants to cremate the remains of Mario Culture. Apparently, he wanted to be cremated. However, his brother didn’t allow that and then got mad at me for not reading the contract that he signed at the end of the service.”

“I told you Ion was going to be trouble,” Belladonna mumbles, “Keep our boy safe. Okay?”

“Of course,” he replies, kissing her one last time, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she makes herself comfortable on his side of the bed before remarking, “Tell Rudolph I’m proud of him.”

“I will, Swan.”

Rudolph had watched many cremations; however, something about Mario felt different. Not good, not bad, just different. A disappointment consumes him almost, and it’s not a disappointment with his father or with the people around him; they only know what they are told. No, it is a disappointment in himself; he got this man ready for his funeral just mere hours ago, and here he is burning his corpse! Watching the fire rage thanks to the little window in the furnace, he’s not only disappointed with himself but also angry, angry at Ion, and he’s never even met him.

Mario Culture

“All the knowledge I possess everyone else can acquire, but my heart is all my own.” - Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe.

Scripted on a slab of stone, hopefully, Adeline had some say in the tombstone. It would be unbelievably cruel if she didn’t.

“Rudolph?” Adeline gasps in her soft yet almost flat and dead voice.

“Hey,” He remarks; seeing her being consumed by an oversized sweater, he can’t help but smile.

“Stalking me now?” she asks with eyebrows raised.

“No… Well, kinda, but not for any weird reason!” he answers, “I only assumed that you would be here; I had no idea that you would come.”

“If you want to talk to me some more, I’d rather not,” she comments.

“I only came to give you something,” he says, pulling the urn necklace with her father’s ashes in it, “I tried to pick one out that looked like the one you have, but I don’t have an eidetic memory like my aunt Henriette.”

Adeline stares at him with wide eyes, “When did you…”

“Last night,” Rudolph answers, walking around her to clasp the necklace around her neck.

“Why?”

Rudolph shrugs, “Because I’m too much like my dad, or that’s what he said when we drove home last night,” he replies, “I don’t know if it was because I had a hand in preparing your father’s body for the funeral or the lessons taught to me since I was a kid, but I didn’t like the idea of him being buried when that’s not what he wanted.”

Adeline only stared up at him, not saying a word, “If it were my parents, I would want their remains to be together too,” He adds.

“That's sweet,” she notes, “What do you want in return?”

“I don’t need anything.”

“Seriously?”

He nods, “What about money?” she asks

Rudolph laughs, “I didn’t do this for money! I don’t need it.”

“You-you want me to go on a date with you?!” Adeline asked in an angry tone, clearly not satisfied with his answers.

He continues to laugh, “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Rudolph heaves, holding his stomach.

“Come on, someone like you doesn’t do this just because!”

“Someone like me?” he hums with a smirk, with rosy cheeks, “I will admit a date with you would be nice,” He winks, “But no, I didn’t do this so we could go out. I don’t need anything from you.”

“You keep saying need,” Adeline huffs, crossing her arms, “There has to be something you want.”

Rudolph thinks for a moment before his smirk grows, “Your phone number.”

“My number?”

“Yeah, you asked me what I wanted, and that’s what I want: your number.”

Adeline sighed, pulling out her phone, “You could have just started with that.”

He puts her number on her phone before slipping it back into his coat pocket. “One last thing,” he states.

“Yeah?”

“Did you get a say in his headstone?”

She looks at the stone in the ground and then back at him, “I did,” she answers before he mumbles a small well.  “Is there anything in the ground?”

“Just the casket,” Rudolph answers, “Your uncle got the cheap shit.”

“Figures.”

“We have the rest of your dad’s ashes, clothes, and the other belongings he was buried with back at the funeral home whenever you wanna get them,” Rudolph mentions.

“It would be best to keep them there… if you don’t mind,” Adeline mutters.

“I’ll hold on to them, I promise,” he reassures.

“Thanks for all of it,” she replies.

He winks, “No problem.”

He heads for the exit, pulls out his phone, types a quick message, and turns to look back at the young girl he was just talking to, “ADELINE,” he calls, getting her attention before holding up his phone and pointing to it, “CHECK YOUR PHONE.”

She looks at him confused before looking at her phone: I want you to call me if you need anything, doesn’t matter what – Rudolph, the red-eyed vampire 🧛🦇

“ALL VAMPIRE’S EYES ARE RED!” Adeline shouts.

“NO, THEY AREN’T MY SISTER, AND NIECES ARE MAGANTA!” He barks back before waving, “I MEANT WHAT I SAID; IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT; I’LL SEE YOU LATER, YEAH?”

“Yeah,” Adeline exhales with a little laugh and smile while waving to Rudolph as he leaves.

[koritea]

New ref for my boy for artfight <3

[apesoformythoughts]

“But the word of knowledge, in which are contained all the mysteries which change with the seasons like the moon, and the other gifts listed, which I have described as like stars, differ from the glory of that Wisdom with which the coming of day rejoices, as if they were but the beginning of night. Yet they are necessary for those to whom Your most prudent servant Paul could not speak as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal, he who speaks wisdom among the perfect.

But the sensual man like a little one in Christ must be given milk to drink, until he is able to take solid meat; and until his eye is strengthened upon the sun, he must not have his night utterly lightless, but must be content with the light of moon and stars.”

— St. Augustine’s Confessions (XIII, xviii)

[promotor--fidei]

i am going back to my roots good sirs

say hello to my updated tumblr and expect me to reupload all my old art here

[apenitentialprayer]

detail of Francesco Podesti's Promulgation of the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception, 1865.

For it is thus that all Church dogmas have arrived, in the past, at their promulgation: they live first of all in the hearts of the believers, then influence more and more the liturgical life of the Church, in order —lastly— to be promulgated as formulated dogmas. Dogmatic theology is only the last stage of the "way of dogma" which begins in the depths of the life of souls and results in ceremonious promulgation. This way is exactly what is understood by "the direction of the Church by the Holy Spirit". The Church knows it and has the patience to await —even for centuries— the time when the work of the Holy Spirit will have attained to maturity.

Anonymous (Meditations on the Tarot: A Journey into Christian Hermeticism, page 551)

Concerning the teaching of the Immaculate Conception, important theologians like Duns Scotus enriched what the People of God already spontaneously believed about the Blessed Virgin and expressed in acts of devotion, in the arts, and in Christian life in general with the specific contribution of their thought. Thus faith both in the Immaculate Conception and in the bodily Assumption of the Virgin was already present in the People of God, while theology had not yet found the key to interpreting it in the totality of the doctrine of faith. The People of God therefore precede theologians and this is all thanks to that supernatural sensus fidei, namely, that capacity infused by the Holy Spirit that qualifies us to embrace the reality of the faith with humility of heart and mind. In this sense, the People of God is the "teacher that goes first" and must then be more deeply examined and intellectually accepted by theology. May theologians always be ready to listen to this source of faith and retain the humility and simplicity of children!

Pope Benedict XVI (General Audience given on July 7th, 2010)

[flesh-exmachina]

HAHAHAHAHA

first base is murdering you. second base is ressurecting you from the grave. third base is murdering you a second time

[lily-illustratio-fidei]

[ilghila]

Esito del Paraconcilio del Vaticano I: Papa legibus solutus

Il Papalismo Assolutista: Esito del Paraconcilio Ultramontano del Vaticano I e Ostacolo alla Retta Fedeltà al Romano Pontefice Introduzione: Il problema del papalismo nella Chiesa contemporanea L’attuale crisi ecclesiale, resa particolarmente evidente durante il pontificato di Papa Francesco, ha riportato all’attenzione dei teologi e dei fedeli una questione rimasta a lungo sottotraccia: la…

[tricksforsuchtroubledtimes]

Interesting and certainly more consistent version: 

the Incarnation is shown below, where the Earth actually lies.

[cor-josephi]

[elfboyeros]

Photography Class

🚨Stories in this series contain suggestive/triggering themes [Abuse, Death, etc.]

Big Masterlist | Purus Sanguis Masterlist 

Outside a very modern home, a black Jaguar E-Type sits, pale fingers tapping the steering wheel just waiting.

I need your help with a project.

K, what do I need to do?

Take me around the city tomorrow.

You got it.

“What are you doing, Adeline?” Rudolph muttered to himself, watching Adeline exit her uncle's home with a camera bag.

“Thanks for being my driver,” she says, getting into his car.

“No problem,” Rudolph replies, beginning to drive. “Can I know what I’m going to do today?”

“I have until tomorrow morning to submit my work for my photography class,” she informs, “and I haven’t taken any of them.”

Rudolph chuckles, “Where are we going first?”

“Uh… the park.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

“Because I’m not,” Adeline sighs, “I don’t know why I’m taking this class. I just wanna make films!”

Rudolph hums, “What do you like taking pictures of?” he asks.

“Uh… nature… Dad always said my pictures of nature were good.”

“Then we don’t wanna go to the park,” Rudolph remarks. “Do you trust me?”

“Barely,” Adeline giggled, “I’ve only known you for like two weeks.”

He lets out a laugh, “Fair, will you trust me now?”

“I will this once,” she chuckles.

“Fantastic,” Rudolph remarks with a smile before turning down the street that leads outside of the city.

Rudolph drives as if he is going back home, stopping before he ascends the mountain, parking near a hiking trail. Adeline is left confused: “Where… are we?”

“It’s a hiking trail; you like taking pictures of nature; this is the only place I could think of where you could take pictures of things that weren’t dead or dying,” Rudolph answers, “We can go if—”

“No, it’s perfect!” Adeline exclaims with a wide smile that almost makes Rudolph’s heart stop.

Down semi-clear dirt paths surrounded by evergreen trees and frost-covered dead foliage, making ide conversations as Adeline took pictures and Rudolph carried her things.

“You live in the mountains?” Adeline asks, “Why?”

Rudolph hums, “My dad was very old when he left Germany; he thought it would be best if everyone stayed away from him.”

“So, he’s like 200 or something?” Adeline jokes.

“433,” he states very frankly.

“Seriously?!” Adeline laughs, looking up from her camera and at Rudolph, “How is your family not famous or something?”

Rudolph laughs, “In the vampire world, we are pretty famous… for better or for worse….”

“What does that mean?”

“My sisters and I are the first pure vampires in two centuries,” he explains as he follows her down the trail, “which got them into trouble a couple of years before I was born. My dad also hates vampiric society, so Wilhelm Con Vester does not have the best reputation.”

“Your dad seemed pretty nice from what I saw,” Adeline comments.

“He is. He has strong morals and puts my mother above all else, so he doesn’t mesh well with the vampires who love to party, take, and steal.”

“How did your parents meet?”

Rudolph let out a little laugh, “Informally, when my mom was performing at the ballet, formally one night after she was done performing.”

“Your dad likes ballet?”

“He does… You really want to know all this stuff?” Rudolph questions, tilting his head to the side and looking at her with an inquisitive gaze as she looks through the lines of her camera, taking pictures of an animal skull in between dead bushes, “You don’t have to make small talk.”

Adeline looks up at Rudolph again and shrugs. “I find you interesting,” she remarks, making Rudolph’s face flush. “We have been talking about the things we like and our hobbies for the past two weeks, but nothing about our families… I'm just curious.”

“How did your parents meet?”

“They met while on spring break when they were in college,” Adeline replies, “They hated that their friends dragged them to Florida and exchanged numbers and social media handles before they went their separate ways.”

“Sounds very modern,” Rudolph chuckled.

Adeline laughs, “Right because your parents met in?”

“1900.”

“Jesus,” Adeline giggles.

They continued to chitchat, mostly discussing their childhoods while Adeline took pictures; however, distant whimpers and cries grabbed Adeline’s attention. Following the cries into a small clearing, there is a dying rabbit.

“Adeline, what are you doing?!” Rudolph gasped as Adeline approached the rabbit.

Picking up the dying cottontail, she exhales, “Inania pectora caelos non ingerunt, ut alter alterum adiuvet et a mortis ostio revocet,” she mutters, before the rabbit’s injuries are reversed and is fully healthy in her arms. “It’s not your time yet, little guy.”

“You’re a witch?” Rudolph questions in a shocked tone.

“Are you going to burn me at the stack?” Adeline jokes, giving the bunny scratches under the chin before letting him hop along its way.

He chuckles, “If I’m going to burn you at the stack, you get to shoot me with a silver bullet.”

“Or feed you garlic,” she adds.

“That is a gross stereotype made up by movies; I, for one, love garlic bread.”

Adeline laughs, flashing Rudolph with a smile that feels like Cupid’s arrows are shooting him. “Your smile suits you,” he blurts out, making her instantly blush. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that,” he added awkwardly, “We… we should head back.”

She nods, muttering a small yeah before following him back to his car. “Hey, Rudolph,” she called, making him turn around as they made it to the entrance of the hiking path, “Can you show me teeth?”

“My teeth?”

She holds up her camera, “I won’t use it for class if you don’t want me to.”

Rudolph shakes his head, “No, if you want to use it for class, use it for class,” he replies, “you want me to smile, pose, or something?”

“Do whatever feels natural.”

While Adeline sets up her camera, Rudolph hooks a finger on his mouth, pulling his cheek out while biting down, showing at least one of his fangs for Adeline to take pictures.

“Can I see?” Rudolph asks once she’s done.

“You can see when I get my grade back,” she slyly replies.

Rudolph chuckles once again, “Ah, I bet you’ll get an A.”

“Right, because you are an A-worthy model.”

“My mom says that I am very photogenic!”

“Oh, your mommy says—”

“ADELINE!” The booming voice and the slamming of a car door make both Rudolph and Adeline jump, looking in the direction of the angry masculine voice. Her uncle, with his fuller yet shorter stature, rapidly approached Rudolph’s car, face flush and red with rage. “What the hell is this?”

Rudolph furrowed his brows slightly at this outburst from the man with graying hair, “I was taking pictures for my photography class; I told Aunt Capri—”

“You told her you would be in town!” Ion shouts back.

Adeline looks at him upset, almost disgusted at how close he is, “I said I was going out with Rudolph to take pictures—Wait, how did you know where I was?!”

“My parents track all of us on our phones, and my sisters are almost 40,” Rudolph quietly comments behind Adeline.

“You’re tracking my phone?!” Adeline scoffs.

Ion rolls his eyes, “I have to keep an eye on you somehow, with you always leaving the house,” He barks back before turning his attention up to Rudoph, “And who are you!”

Rudolph sticks his hand out politely as he steps in front of Adeline, “I’m Rudolph, sir; we met a couple of weeks ago at your brother’s funeral; however, it was brief. My parents own the funeral home.”

Ion narrows his eyes up at Rudolph, not taking his hand, “You’re the son of those hopelessly whipped and terribly boring hellspawns.”

Rudolph returns Ion's gaze, “Careful with your words, sir,” he says through gritted teeth, “My parents have done nothing to you, neither have I.”

“You stole away my niece!”

“He didn’t steal me away,” Adeline taunts, crossing her arms, “I asked him to help me!”

“Well, now you are coming home,” Ion orders, grabbing Adeline’s arms forcibly towards him.

“What the hell?!” she shouts.

Ion begins to drag Adeline to his car, “Hey hey hey!” Rudolph shouts, grabbing the back of Ion’s shirt, “She came walk on her own, let her go.”

The older man huffs, letting go of Adeline and allowing her to walk to his car on her own, leaving Rudolph to watch her get into the back seat of her uncle’s vehicle and drive back into the city.

Getting into his car, Rudolph heads up the mountain to go home, stepping inside it is quiet, not silent yet quiet, especially for the late afternoon. He pokes his head into the kitchen, seeing Margo and her girlfriend, Hydrangea, at the kitchen table, enjoying hot beverages and softly talking.

“Hey, Rudolph,” Margo coos before furrowing her brows at her younger brother, “What happened?”

“Your date not go well?” Hydrangea jokes.

“It wasn’t a date,” he huffs, “Is mom around?”

“I think she’s sulking in the living room,” Margo comments before receiving a confused look from her brother, “Daddy didn’t come for lunch.”

“Gotcha,” Rudolph hums before heading for the living room.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Margo calls.

“Later,” Rudolph replies.

The young man peddles his way to the living room, finding his mother the way his sister described, lying on the couch sulking. “Momma.”

“Hi, Darling,” she coos, sitting up as he approaches the couch, “How was your date?”

“It wasn’t a date,” he sighs, sitting down.

“Sure, it wasn’t,” Belladonna mutters, resting against the back of the couch, “What’s wrong, duckie?”

“Adeline’s uncle is an asshole,” Rudolph remarks.

His mother snickers, “I could have told you that. Him looking at me like I was an idiot when discussing his brother’s funeral told me he is an asshole.”

“I think he’s abusing Adeline,” Rudolph adds.

Belladonna straightens up, looking at her son for more answers, “It’s just what I saw. There is this air of… I don’t know… malice like he hates her. It's more than just a teenager being moody; you and Dad don’t freak out and track me down when you don’t know where exactly I was.”

“Not everyone is me and your father, Rudolph,” she comments

“But a parent or someone that is similar to a parent doesn’t manhandle you to get you to their car, do they?” Rudolph poses.

“Very true,” Belladonna replies, “Has Adeline said anything or…”

“She just said that they don’t get along, and he is very religious… maybe because she’s a witch—”

“She’s a witch?”

Rudolph nods while humming, “She’s a necromancy witch.”

“That could very well be the reason for Ion’s force,” Belladonna says, “Keep an eye on her; if she needs a place to get away from him, she is always welcome here.” She sighs, shaking her head, “People will never stop abusing each other,” she mutters to herself getting up.

“He also called you and Dad hopelessly whipped and terribly boring hellspawns,” Rudolph informs, making her laugh as she stretches.

“Hopelessly whipped and terribly boring,” Belladonna repeats. “Strong words from a Catholic priest! The fucker.”

Rudolph laughs as Wilhelm enters the living room, looking at his wife and his son confused, “What is going on in here?”

“Beloved, we have been called hopelessly whipped and terribly boring by our favorite Catholic priest,” Belladonna relays dramatically.

Wilhelm rolls his eyes at the mention of Ion as she falls in a dramatic fashion in such a way as to have him catch her by her arms, “Us whipped and boring,” she sighs theatrically.

Rudolph continues to laugh at his parents as he watches his father’s lips form a fine line, and his head tilts to the side, “Well, he isn’t wrong.”

Belladonna stands upright, clicking her tongue, heading for the staircase, “I’ve lived through horrors that man couldn’t even imagine I have the right to whipped and boring!” she remarks before pointing at Wilhelm while only halfway up the stairs, “So do you!”

Doubled over on the couch, Rudolph continues to laugh before feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket: a message from Adeline:

Thank you for today, sorry about my uncle

Followed by the picture she took of his teeth.

[koritea]

So I've been playing through FFXV

[sheltiechicago]

Title

Urban Melodies

Torleif Lie

Norway

"Sinfonia de Luces" (Symphony of Lights), Lumen Fidei" (The Light of Faith), "Arquitectura Viva" (Living Architecture), celebrates Ricardo Bofill's ingenious use of color, materials, and sculptural forms.

Neutral Density Photography Awards 2023

[lirissteller]

[iannozzigiuseppe]

Niccolò Cusano: LA PACE DELLA FEDE. Introduzione, traduzione e note di Marco Vannini. Prefazione di Roberto Celada Ballanti - LdM Press

Niccolò Cusano: LA PACE DELLA FEDE. Introduzione, traduzione e note di Marco Vannini. Prefazione di Roberto Celada Ballanti Lorenzo de’ Medici Press Nel 1453, subito dopo la conquista di Costantinopoli da parte dei Turchi, mentre i più progettavano una nuova crociata, Niccolò Cusano scrisse il De pace fidei. In esso si immagina un Concilio tenuto in cielo tra i filosofi di tutte le religioni,…