#it's not a set path but it's-- hard to deviate thus far

[townofcadence]

What do you think is Artair's best trait - and what would you consider a weakness of said trait?

Likewise, what do you think is Artair's worst trait - and what would you consider a strength of said trait?

Ohhh another good one!!

I think the thing is that his best and worst trait are the same-- it's kindness, loyalty, love, protectiveness. Part of what I enjoy exploring with Artair is taking a trait seen typically as 'good' and showing it both as good and as bad, depending on the situation. It's kind of a reflection of how I feel-- that no trait is ever good or bad in the end, it's just how it effects the situation that can be a benefit or a detriment!

Like-- these traits are obviously good in many ways! It's wanting to help others, to connect to people and love them and want to see the best in them, that can often help others heal and find a way to hold the grief from the countless hurts they've suffered.It's love and loyalty and a desire to protect and comfort that can push people and motivate to acts the really--- save someone from a darker space sometimes. Both physically a danger for them in the literal sense, and a metaphorical emotional one. Kindness reaches people and can really help bring out the best in others. It's a listening ear, a hand in yours when you just need a lifeline, and a gentle touch at the right moment, or a shoulder to hold you when it's too much.

But conversely, that same kindness can go to extremes that-- hurt people. Artair cares SO much about other people and helping them, saving them, that he kills himself to do so, both metaphorically and not. He will take every blow he can, he will antagonize someone so they hurt and focus on him instead, he will get you out of the way. He will not call for your help, because it means putting you in a bad position, one where you might be hurt. He will throw himself into danger after danger, because if he stops it and he deals with it, then no one else has to. Any harm that comes to him feels like harm he prevented someone else from enduring. So he keeps going and going in this desperate need to save everyone, and blames himself and breaks himself to pieces when he fails, or perceives himself to have failed someone in any way.

Love and kindness fail when he sees everyone as so far above himself that his only value is what he can do to make their lives better, at the cost of himself. Loyalty and love are good traits, except when he devotes himself to people so much so that he loses himself in the process. Protection is great, except when always trying to keep someone from harm makes them feel they aren't trusted to handle hard things and they feel infantilized. Altruism and a willingness to sacrifice for others can be good, until he refuses any path that would do little harm to someone else, because they would get hurt at all, when he could take on more and greater suffering just to prevent it. It's also the sacrifice of himself to be the target of aggression and pain and rage because he can take it, and allowing himself to hurt to make others feel better. Hell, eve n offering to endure pain or suffering just to 'help'. Seeing himself as so monstrous he deserves all of it and just accepting it, and choosing it, and even seeking it, because no one but him deserves this pain. It's a senseless martyring.

And dying for people, sacrificing himself over and over.... ?

...it doesn't only effect him. The people he cares about have to deal with his loss, with seeing him destroy himself at every opportunity. With the pain of knowing they're not worth living for, and he's willing to throw himself away at a moment's notice for anything and anyone, until there's just no more of him left and then some. He's too busy playing Atlas with the world on his shoulders and blaming himself for every travesty as if anyone has the power to prevent it all, to realize how his destructive behaviors out of love and devotion and the desire to do good, no matter what, mean that all the people who come to care about him have to watch him destroy himself in their name and others.

He reaches many with kindness and compassion, but he also breaks those hearts he touches. It's the terrible downwards spiral he hasn't chosen to stop yet.

[peantbutter-honeycombs]

The Eradith Siblings

Born in the elven city of Syngorn to the Herald of the New Age, Kesstryn Eradith, the Eradith children were putatively raised amongst the cream of elven society. As a young child Talric was always trying to make a good impression on his mother, but they hardly acknowledged his interests and/or achievements due to a general disinterest in him. Regardless, he persisted hoping to gain his mother’s attention.

When he was five, his mother, reoriented his genes, fundamentally refitting his genetics to further her own “studies.” Thusly, his agreeable nature was stripped and replaced with an insecure, opportunistic, and distrustful disposition. Alas, on his sister, Fia’s, second birthday, their mother reformed her body, irrevocably marring Fia’s drafted path in life. In one fell breach of kinship, Fia’s childhood was poached, replaced with endless days of ridicule and exclusion.

In the days following her transfiguration, her brother, Talric implemented a plot that delivered them from the abuses of their mother. On account of this, the two spent the ensuing years, growing up in isolation. After a year or so foraging, they were taken under the wings of half-elven twins, Vax’ildan and Vex’halia Vessar.

Talric Eradith

Talric is a pragmatic and efficacious interbred elven child. He approaches almost all matters with a rigid survivalist attitude that distinctly belies his age. A rather guarded individual, he presents a tendency towards extremely inconsistent social behavior and has a hard time trusting others. Talric has admitted that as much as he craves a meaningful relationship with other humanoids they feel they cannot rely on others to meet their physical or emotional needs. They have trouble believing that any individual, primarily adults, will love and support them as they are. Thus, he’s adopted the isolating defensive mechanism that is social withdrawal. Pushing people away has become his default. Intriguingly, the little boy exhibits an unparalleled self-possessed peace of mind when performing duties in open air environments, especially those involving the exercise of tree climbing.

Considering the mannerisms of other children, Talric is comparatively cautious and calculating, reserving his warmer, gentler moments for his beloved younger sister, Fía. Given that his mother, someone he trusted to unequivocally love and accept him, didn't, his apprehension in social settings is understandable. Vulnerability, more often than not, has rewarded him with nothing but pain. Still, it is unclear to what extent his asocial personality and behavior are genuine. Much of his detached behavior is viewed as a façade for his desperate yet haunting desire for affection; at least from those in his party. He has shown he can be fairly loving and understanding. However, these moments are far and few between and the few performed for anyone other than his sister are even less common.

Deviating from his reclusive bearing, Talric is quite clever and astute; or a “scheming little shit” as numerous individuals throughout the campaign have called him. Aided by an amazingly calculative mind, Talric has shown himself on multiple occasions to be capable of developing and managing intricate traps to injure and incapacitate adversaries. This is perhaps best illustrated in "Best Laid Plans..."(1x50) as he was able to use the variables from the information gathered by his investigation to predict paths that would lead to certain outcomes. This insight allowed him to devise a whole array of booby traps that effectively removed two-fifths of the members of the Herd of Storms from combat. Though he predominantly crafts his traps to be nonlethal, this rather merciful control can be overturned.

Fiannim Eradith

Fiannim is a sentimental, fairly quiet, rapt individual, who like many others her age is also curious minded and venturesome. Nevertheless, having grown up in nearly complete isolation, she is exceptionally wary in unfamiliar settings. Curiously, even with everything she’s highly cognizant of other individuals’ emotional states, good and bad: tied with her innate benevolence, she has an intense desire to help those in need (even to her detriment). Still, as a relatively passive individual she has a tendency to depend on others, namely her older brother, to take the lead in overwhelming social settings. On the whole Fia is a generally sweet, innocent, and diffident little girl. Moreover, according to her older brother, she’s also the most compassionate and merciful person you’ll ever meet.

She is played as a mainly silent character, choosing to use physical language such as pointing and nodding instead of traditional speech. Considering the nature of her childhood, her mousy, subdued behaviors are quite understandable, especially and specifically in unfamiliar social settings. She is shown to be extremely anxious in social situations, which often lead her to “shut down.” While it has been confirmed she can verbally communicate, she is somatically unable to speak around certain people or in certain settings. Her vocalizations are instead expressed in the form of noises reminiscent of bird calls. For all that, there are a select few who she feels comfortable verbally communicating with; namely her brother, the twins, Scanlan and Keyleth.

Despite her insecurities, Fiannim attempts to make sure that others have the things they need to feel safe, secure, and loved regardless of their alignment. Quite the opposite of her brother, she is well known for her warm and disarming presence. On several occasions throughout the campaign she’s seen putting the emotional contentment of others well before her own. Given the fact that she spent the better part of her childhood with few opportunities to interact with others, her inclination to approach both allies and adversaries alike, in a genuinely respectful manner is quite remarkable. Her non-discriminatory mindset and capacity for empathy has graciously equipped her with a demeanor that prompts friendship and trust from most of the individuals she meets, noticeably in the cases of Lady Allura and J’mon Sa Ord.

Art by @oliviajoytaylor

[whimsicaldragonette]

Audio ARC Review: What Souls Are Made Of: A Wuthering Heights Remix by Tasha Suri

Just look at this *gorgeous* cover!

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Publication Date: July 5, 2022

Synopsis:

What Souls Are Made Of, British Fantasy Award-winning author Tasha Suri's masterful new take on Brontë's Wuthering Heights, will leave readers breathless. As the abandoned son of a Lascar—a sailor from India—Heathcliff has spent most of his young life maligned as an "outsider." Now he's been flung into an alien life in the Yorkshire moors, where he clings to his birth father's language even though it makes the children of the house call him an animal, and the maids claim he speaks gibberish. Catherine is the younger child of the estate's owner, a daughter with light skin and brown curls and a mother that nobody talks about. Her father is grooming her for a place in proper society, and that's all that matters. Catherine knows she must mold herself into someone pretty and good and marriageable, even though it might destroy her spirit. As they occasionally flee into the moors to escape judgment and share the half-remembered language of their unknown kin, Catherine and Heathcliff come to find solace in each other. Deep down in their souls, they can feel they are the same. But when Catherine's father dies and the household's treatment of Heathcliff only grows more cruel, their relationship becomes strained and threatens to unravel. For how can they ever be together, when loving each other—and indeed, loving themselves—is as good as throwing themselves into poverty and death?

My Rating: ★★★★★

***My Review below the cut.

My Review

My favorite of the Remixed Classics series thus far!

I wasn't a fan of Wuthering Heights when I read it some years ago. There was too much tragedy, and the characters were all awful people. But I still jumped at the chance to read this because Tasha Suri is a fantastic writer, the synopsis is intriguing, the cover is stunning, and I have absolutely loved every installment of the Remixed Classics series thus far.

And it absolutely lived up to and exceeded every one of my hopes and expectations. I loved the split narration between Cathy and Heathcliffe. I loved their distinct voices and the way the narrators performed their chapters. I loved how, though they were distinct, their childhood belief that they shared one soul felt true. I especially loved how this story deviated from the original.

The character growth of both Cathy and Heathcliffe is immense. They do not start the book as 'likeable' people, either of them, but I was rooting for each of them to find themself from the beginning, and by the end I loved them.

The ending is a satisfying conclusion and very obviously a new beginning and I would happily read more books exploring where Cathy and Heathcliffe go and how they choose to pay the debts Cathy's father owed as they set their ghosts to rest.

Speaking of ghosts, I loved the fantastical elements to the story. They were at once jarring and a natural extension of the plot. They felt right and true.

The discussion of the East India Company's atrocities in India, colonialism in general, the way rich white men viewed all non-white foreigners, expecting them to be grateful to serve them, was sickening. The revelations about Cathy's father were blows to Cathy and to the reader.

This story was hard-hitting and the language was gorgeous and kept the haunting gothic atmosphere of the original. I was riveted and couldn't stop listening. I loved that I never knew what was going to happen. There were points where one of the characters would face a choice, and I could see where one choice would lead - to something like the plot of the original Wuthering Heights - and I would desperately hope they would choose the other path, even though it wasn't clear what lay at the end of it.

I loved the element of found family that Heathcliffe stumbles into -- I'm a sucker for a found family plot -- and I really wish there could be a sequel where Cathy gets to meet them. I would love to see what she would make of Heathcliffe's life and choices in Liverpool. At the same time I love where Tasha Suri chose to end the story. It felt… right.

This is my favorite of the Remixed Classics series thus far. Highly recommend.

I also highly recommend the audiobook because it is absolutely gorgeous and the narrators really bring the story to life. It is emotional and haunting and gothic and perfectly matches that gorgeous cover.

*Thanks to NetGalley, Feiwel & Friends, and Macmillan Audio for providing an audio arc for review.

[twh-news]

‘Loki’ Gives Tom Hiddleston’s Antihero the Spotlight, but Sticks to Marvel’s Superhero Basics: TV Review

It should only take a few minutes before “Loki” viewers know whether they’re down for what the show is serving up or too tired of the Marvel Cinematic Universe machine to follow this chapter of its increasingly complex saga.

[NOTE: Maybe read further after you've seen the first ep 😁]

The new Disney Plus show — the third under Marvel’s burgeoning TV offshoot — opens with dashing villain Loki (Tom Hiddleston) in the Avengers’ custody circa the 2012 movie that first brought the team together. In this version of those events, however, Loki manages to escape — thus upending the reality in which the character eventually dies at the hands of Thanos and freeing him up to anchor a show all his own.

Unfortunately for this Loki, his spontaneous getaway gambit sends him straight into the path of an armored guard (Wunmi Mosaku) who stares him down and declares that, “on behalf of the Time Variants Authority, I hereby arrest you for crimes against The Sacred Timeline.” Imbuing such a wholeheartedly cheesy line with hyperbolic gravitas is a superhero story staple, and yet this one’s grim righteousness still made me laugh in a way it was probably not supposed to.

For a new Marvel production, introducing a powerful league of militaristic cops is practically a prerequisite for whatever story is yet to come. But it’s nevertheless a bit of a letdown when you realize halfway through the dense first episode that one of the MCU’s ostensibly most unpredictable lead characters has somehow landed in the most predictable of setups.

To be fair, some of this irony is by design. As written by Michael Waldron, Loki very purposefully couldn’t be a worse fit for the monochromatic, bureaucratic order of the Time Variants Authority (or “TVA”), nor more offended when he understands exactly what it represents. As a chipper cartoon clock (“Miss Minutes”) informs him in an explanatory animated video, the TVA is an organization tasked with keeping every multiverse moving forward on the same “sacred timeline” as prescribed by three almighty  “Timekeepers,” which sometimes means snuffing out “Variants” like Loki who might mess it up.

The implication, Loki quickly grasps with real horror, is that there’s almost nothing anyone can do to change their fate; even his tricks are preordained parts of the greater whole. That emphasis on fate, paired with Kasra Farahani’s deliberately drab and vaguely midcentury production design, is what sets the TVA apart from something like SHIELD, though both share the same affection for unilateral authority and quips without punchlines.

I’ll leave it to bigger Marvel fans than me who can unravel exactly what the TVA’s level of authority means for the MCU at large. At first glance, though, it does seem as though the mere existence of the TVA should have huge implications, especially as upcoming big screen installments are set to explore the multiverse in more depth (including “Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness,” also written by Waldron). For now, Loki has found himself outsmarted by this seemingly omniscient organization, forcing him to reluctantly team up with Agent Mobius (Owen Wilson), who’s convinced Loki can help them sift through an infinite number of timelines to track down one particularly pernicious Variant.

Only two episodes of “Loki” were screened for critics, making it hard to know exactly how successful the 6-episode season might be in shaping its own identity within the onscreen Marvel universe. Of these first two episodes, however, the second was far more engaging. The pilot has such an extraordinary amount of ground to cover that director Kate Herron only gets a couple opportunities to find humor in between the exposition, and Hiddleston can barely get into the pithy groove that made Loki such a standout in the first place. The second, at least, can have a bit more fun.

Waldron’s scripts do their best throughout to layer in moments of pathos for its central antihero to make clear exactly where his head is at in this point of his life. (To make it even clearer: this version of Loki has only lived through the events of the first “Thor” movie and “The Avengers.”) By the time Wilson’s Mobius extracts Loki from the TVA’s courtroom, presided over by an annoyed judge (Gugu Mbatha-Raw), Loki is so exhausted and annoyed that he can barely muster the energy to resist too many of Mobius’ probing questions about his end goals. “Why does someone with so much range just want to rule?” Mobius asks, voice thick with pity and admiration. Loki has no good answer besides the one he’s resisted ever since arriving at the TVA: he wants to rule because harboring that burning desire is just his fate.

After establishing all the wheres and whys, the series is then free to move on to the second episode, which gives Loki a bit more room to explore his surroundings and make some calculations of his own. (Emphasis on “a bit”; Hiddleston never quite gets enough time to play around with his character given the show’s pressing need to get to the next timeline and/or twist.) From there, the show establishes a new rhythm as Loki, Mobius and Time Monitor B-15 (Mosaku) ricochet throughout time. Given his experience on “Rick and Morty,” Waldron is comfortable with this dynamic of an odd couple traveling through time and space to potentially disastrous results, but still constrained by the ever-complicating Marvel narrative web surrounding Loki and Mobius. The end of the second episode teases an intriguing new direction for the series to take, but without knowing what happens next, it’s hard to say how much it might deviate from the usual script.

The most fun “Loki” has is when Hiddleston and Wilson get to banter — a distinction from when Mobius playacts as Loki’s placid therapist, a dynamic neither the character nor actor can fully sell. But Wilson’s singular comedic delivery, which somehow combines both a dry deadpan and puppy dog enthusiasm still strikes an amusing balance against Hiddleston, especially when he gets to drop Loki’s existential angst for genuine curiosity about the strange new world around him. And yet: when Loki sighs in frustration about the TVA’s tedious overreach dictating his story when he could be doing something much more dangerous and strange, it’s hard not to agree.

“Loki” premieres Wednesday, June 9, on Disney Plus.

[a-lil-perspective]

Serendipity With A Slice Of Sergeant | Part III

A/N: Lots of timeskips. Let me know if there are any particular scenarios in this part that you want me to further expand upon in a separate drabble. :)

@shadow-hyder @obiorbenkenobi @thegoodbatch @starflyer-104 @everyonehasanindividuality @karpasia

▪️❤️▪️❤️▪️❤️▪️❤️▪️❤️▪️❤️▪️❤️▪️❤️▪️❤️

“Psst...”

“Papa...”

An airy whisper beckoned Hunter as he stirred awake at the title, blinking hard in mustered remembrance of even dozing off as his fatigued gaze quickly shifted to behold his own reflection—a miniature version, at that—hovering over his exhausted form enveloped within the mattress: large, deep brown eyes and short, soft tufts of hair the color of smoky timber framing her small facial profile as a bright smile puffed her already full cheeks.

“Ad’ika...” spilled from Hunter’s lips in reverence, coated with the deepest adoration that transcended beyond the window of his soul, each syllable squeezing his heart and never failing to leave him utterly breathless. Even after five years.

Emotions inflated by a second pair of matching brown eyes now gazing up at Hunter, with her toddler height barely allowing her access topside the mattress, the former Sergeant promptly leaned over to scoop up the youngest child before planting her chubby form upright his chest.

“Papa... play with us!” The effervescent plea and gentle nudge of his eldest daughter echoed the room, the whine of her small voice and jutted lip in exaggeration sending a pang through Hunter’s heart.

Early on, Hunter had rather stubbornly vowed that he would only ever have two modes: ‘Fun Mode’ and ‘Done Mode’—from his point of view, if Papa Hunter isn’t in a full state of ‘Done Mode’, then he should have the other one switched on and cranked all the way up. Hunter was extremely immersive in interacting with his ad’ikas. His own matched enthusiasm that appeared on the forefront of playtime each session was endearing, thus he found it rather challenging to not overexert his mental stimuli or sensory receptors.

Which, more often than not, resulted in sensory-induced headaches.

Such was the current outcome of intense playtime from the day before.

The migraines courtesy of sensory overloads became less frequent and intense as Hunter better grasped how to decipher and evade certain triggers and learned to just take it easy every once in awhile, which proved to be a challenge in itself. His reasoning was valid, and his intentions were pure—Hunter didn’t want to miss out on living for even a minute.

Though Hunter currently admitted, albeit begrudgingly, that he needed just a few to rest his heavy-lidded eyes.

“Give Papa a few more minutes, ik’aad. Then I will.” Hunter reassured, obscuring the exhaustion from his voice and gently caressing the older girl’s crestfallen face, while planting a tender kiss to the toddler’s, who responded by fisting Hunter’s ebony locks and tugging.

“Be patient, cyar’ika.”

The silky voice of the girls’ mother emitting such warmth and permeating the small space innately sent pure bliss coursing through Hunter’s already sensitized nerves.

You strolled over to your husband’s side within the bed, lacing your fingers with his own at the offer of his outstretched hand and eyeing the two beautiful dream-come-trues now the focal point of your reality.

“Remember: sometimes daddy’s head hurts, and ‘nap time’ helps him,” you carefully explain. The familiarity of terms and phrases befitting for a child’s understanding was intrinsically second-nature to you after five years, and you found satisfaction in the way Alarasmé’s eyes suddenly lit up in recognition. Perceptive girl.

Just like her Father.

“Okay... Feel better, Papa.”

Compassionate like him, too.

Alarasmé’s empathetic kiss to Hunter’s forehead in bidding her Father farewell for the moment made your heart swell, even more so with the way Hunter’s own pout of disappointment in his perceived missed opportunities immediately melted away by her touch. The two-year-old now within your embrace, Rowena, waved a chubby arm also before babbling bye-bye before you ushered the girls into the other room, satiating them with various modes of play before quickly deviating for a moment to check in on your cyare.

Peering in from the doorway, Hunter’s motioned flick from the bed with a wry smile encompassing his features beckoned you to his side, your own smile drawn from Hunter’s hum of approval at the soothing way you gently combed your fingers through his hair before trailing down to lightly trace his facial tattoo. Your angelic form hovering over his own and the projected softness to your voice was heavenly, and the only thing that ever absolutely intoxicated the former Sergeant via a strong shot of ecstasy.

“Need anything?”

“Just you.” He chuckled lightly, shifting to wrap his arms around your waist in pulling you close as you deciphered the brief glimmer in his eyes and the words fully coated with an underlying innuendo—six years of marriage undoubtedly aiding in a rather keen perceptiveness towards his titillating behavior.

“Well I’m off the chrono at nap time,” you smirk.

“Which is how much longer from now?”

A glance to the chrono on the far desk table told you Hunter’s spirits would deflate alongside his looming arousal.

“Four hours.” His groan of disappointment at the revelation further solidified your prediction.

“Oh shush, relax.” You press soft lips to his own, smirking. “Sleep. Dream of me while you wait.”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t already, cyar’ika,” his low purring in your ear rolled through your core, causing you to shiver at the tightening of his grip and the newfound sharp stubble greeting your own jawline in flickered strokes as his warm lips wandered, trailing down your neck.

A sigh of pleasure nearly manifested into a vocalization before quickly dispersing at the sound of light giggles from somewhere behind you, now flooding your ears.

And just like that, you were back to full-time ‘Mom Mode’.

“Hunter,” you breathed in a light sing-song, further probing the former Sergeant by clearing your throat with emphasis and taking into consideration the way he tended to get carried away at any chance of stolen, brief moments permitting him glimpses of heaven.

Unsurprisingly, he only hummed in response.

“Hunter. The girls.”

He promptly retreated his lips, returning from a fleeting blissful getaway with a silent curse and apology rolling off his tongue in realization of the four pools of deep brown eyes now peering in with curiosity to behold the two of you.

“I’ll be back.” You plant a tender kiss to his forehead before striding off. Hunter found himself longing in your absence already.

“Hurry.” A breathy laugh echoing with desire spilled from his lips as he called out with feigned urgency.

You pause amidst the doorway, turning back to grace the former Sergeant with a suggestive wink. “Sir, yes Sir.”

Hurry indeed.

***

“So what will you do, now that the war’s over?”

The question rang through Hunter’s ears on incessant repeat. Probing from random personnel, from acquaintances, from his vode mostly—a question begging an answer regarding the most pivotal moment in the Sergeant’s life.

He recalled his own words once conveyed to the former ARC Trooper Echo:

“Your path is different.”

Hunter had found himself faced with the same personal scenario looming just overhead, his heart yearning for a different kind of wholesome company aside from his vode—whom he’d always have, of course.

Hunter regarded himself as a man of stability; assured in his own steadfast intuition and predilections, unrelenting in his passions. He dared to dwell on the outline of a future, a silhouette, but solid and clear.

Her silhouette was beautiful, and she was his radiant future.

“What’re your plans now?”

It was a plan more exhilarating than The Bad Batch’s most uniquely conjured up and numbered battle strategies, more intricate than the analytics of fresh intelligence, and more audacious than the adrenaline of escapade alongside his vode.

He was looking at her—the aforementioned plan. The entirety of his future condensed into one frame courtesy of the woman standing before him.

Casting aside all subtlety and formalities with not a care in the world as to who’s prying eyes became bystander, the Sergeant promptly raced to your stationary position, to which you were spared barely a moment of registration at his surprise arrival before being swept off your feet by strong arms that held you close.

The wind currents happily accepted the man’s resounding laughter of pure exuberance in the utterance of your name; the fixated breeze gently enveloped the melody of shared adoration between, caressing and flowing through the forms of two young people in love and in the act of a twirl—embraces evident of their completion by each other.

Hunter quickly placed you back on your feet and held you steady in the wake of a dizzying spin, each of your grins and chuckles inflating the other’s. You caught your breath only to lose it again by Hunter’s determined kiss firmly planted to your lips.

“Marry me, Y/N.”

He needn’t utter a word more.

***

It took a few months to find that sweet spot, the most ideal section and perfect land for building; the instant your eyes laid upon the luscious plains neighboring crested mountains, the rich Alderaniaan soil smattered into your hands from inspecting, the surrounding flora that welcomed you with the open arms of their stems and blossoming petals—you knew this was home.

Originally designed building schematics effectively aided in the process, though you were grateful for the way production efforts were maximized by the several extra sets of hands—extremely large hands, you note, as you looked on in awe at Wrecker hefting dense material with ease.

Each of Hunter’s brothers were instrumental in construction, their efforts spanning all the way to the interior. They were a thorough crew, to say the least. The infrastructure wasn’t intricate at all—nearly equating to a cottage, as you and Hunter had opted early on to live minimalistic; thus smaller floor plans and slightly narrower hallways encompassed the main design, as you knew full well the both of you would be spending the majority of your days outdoors.

Hunter felt a swell of pride at your home’s completion; he took satisfaction and comfort in the knowledge that each piece was curated and put together by his own hands alongside his vode’—a notion that became incredibly wholesome for Hunter. Marriage was still just as new and daunting to him as ever, and having the guys pitch in was sweetly reminiscent to the former Sergeant of The Bad Batch’s prominently venturesome days coated with nonchalance and mischief.

He especially appreciated the way their sense of humor and sibling rivalry never ebbed away over time. Hunter could recount several instances during the construction process where he had to revert to a different buir mode and intervene between bickering.

Some things never change.

Upon completion, Hunter ushered you, hands clasped over your eyes as instructed for the full effect of surprise, to the spot where you would behold the finalized version of your homestead. You had actively been involved in the architectural process until your newfound physical transition impeded any further heavy labor.

Tears streaked down your face in pure elation upon beholding your beautifully cozy space that became the physical manifestation and full bearer of significance towards the beginning of a shared future together.

Hunter studied your own reaction with his own sense of warmth emitting, even if he felt slightly confused, a little uncomfortable, and largely concerned by how much you were weeping in that instant.

You had to remind him it was just the pregnancy hormones.

***

Hunter was the one privy to the realization of pregnancy before you even were—both times. In retrospect, you shouldn’t have been surprised.

He just knew.

Innately, Hunter picked up right away on the shift of chemical balances and hormone fluctuations that preceded any symptoms, quickly finding himself faced with the prospect of actually letting his wife in on the little secret once absolutely certain of his own deduction.

He hadn’t the slightest idea on how to go about that conversation, so the news ate away at him for a solid week while you remained rather oblivious to his downward spiraling composure.

In actuality, the notion of conveying the news terrified him more than that one intense time he had to broach Tech with news of how the guys Wrecker broke the engineer’s small gadget affixed to his gauntlet.

Only, the tears shed during this scenario were actually from pure joy and euphoria.

The both of you were absolutely glowing.

The second time around, Hunter blurted the factuality with full confidence like an ace attorney on the peak of his greatest conviction, with just as much emphatic passion and the biggest triumphant smile pulling at his lips, in addition.

“You’re pregnant.”

“If we keep this up, we’re starting bets on who can figure it out first.” You laughed happily.

If we keep this up.

Rowena’s delivery was immensely more difficult, exhausting, and Hunter’s stress levels were immeasurable. He did well of hiding it from others, but only you knew of the way he was also suffering—each time he white-knuckled through another wave of pain for you, beads of sweat dotting his forehead and leaving a sheen to his face, his voice tight and thick with tension and labored breaths alongside your own—your heart ached for him.

It was strenuous on you both.

Neither of you would trade it for anything.

Ear-piercing screams and wails from two young children at any given moment was arguably the most challenging aspect for Hunter. To combat the ringing of distressed high-pitched vocalizations, the former Sergeant quickly adopted a rather peculiar penchant for humming during the episodes, finding satiation in the way deep reverberating vibrations from his vocal chords miraculously counteracted the threat of splitting headaches.

Humming turned to singing, which became both Hunter and the girls’ favorite thing—they adored their Papa’s voice, and Hunter loved how helpful he felt at the way his mellifluous tones effectively soothed each child.

Singing time became a daily requirement, an essential routine for both Buir and Ade that stood the test of time.

***

The now five and eight-year-old’s jubilant laughters echoed through a field bathed in the warm golden sunlight outside their small homestead as they flowed in step with their buir during an impromptu dance session, to which Hunter’s melodic baritone voice never ceased to be the center of attention. You looked on through the eyes of serenity, perched against a post within the veranda of your home as your fingers splayed across your newly swollen abdomen. You noted the way every bit of nature seemed to sway from more than just the gentle breeze in that moment, as if revering a former Sergeant’s euphonic symphony of combined treble and bass.

Hunter faltered mid-chorus to address his current dance partner, gracefully twirling the youngest girl’s smaller frame as she squealed in delight before kneeling down to meet her eye-level, running a loving hand through her messy locks.

“Rowena, ner mesh’la ad, who stole Daddy’s heart?” He encouraged.

“Me! I stole it!!” The five-year-old proudly shouted with glee, her eyes sparkling.

“Alarasmé, ner ashi mesh’la ad, tell Daddy who holds his heart?” Hunter turned to regard his eldest, lifting her up with ease and pressing his forehead to her own as he spoke, emitting a timid giggle from the girl.

“I have your heart, Papa. I’m taking good care of it.”

“That’s right, cyare’se.”

The prompted recital of a steadfast and reassuring love pledge for each daughter was a regularly becoming thing—ever since the girls were five and two, on a day when Hunter was feeling particularly enamored of his children and incited a game of chase by bursting into a room with deliberation and feigned dramatization:

“Hey! Who stole my heart?!”

The girls squealed in delight before catching on and confidently stating that they have it, to which Hunter chased after each child in a game of tag before quickly catching both girls while letting them know that he had them, holding his ade tightly within his grasp before addressing them in all seriousness.

“That’s good. You keep it, okay?” He pointed to each daughter’s small chest. “Keep it right next to your own, take good care of it.” The girls nod eagerly, even though they don’t fully understand at the time. Hunter makes appoint to simplify his profound love declaration:

“You’ll always have Papa’s heart. I promise.”

[enkisstories]

Well adjusted

- A DBH fanfic in my usual AU-

(Fall 2039, Last year’s revolution failed, Machine!Connor escaped destruction, deviated and is now pretending to be an RK900 at the DPD where Daniel works as a janitor. Between chapters 2 and 3 Daniel had suddenly moved up to police technician without me explaining how that happened. This fic remedies that.)

- Sims version coming later finished and turned out much better -

Tina Chen entered the cafeteria for a last-minute bagel and coffee before her shift. Having hoped to find it empty, the officer backed out again when she saw at least three co-workers sitting and chatting inside. She hadn’t come far when she heard the familiar voice of Detective Reed: “Come back here, Tina, and see something cool!”

Tina turned around again, expecting to see something that was funny in an inappropriate way. She was not prepared for Gavin closing in on the precinct’s android janitor, grabbing it and stomping his foot down hard on the device’s toes. The abused PL600 twitched, but instead of pulling its damaged foot off the ground it raised both its hands to the forehead and held it. On second glance Tina thought the thing was looking as if it was suffering from migraines.

“I was wrong!” Gavin cheered. “Androids DO feel pain! Only not where they got hit!”

That last part amused the man to no end and he could not stop laughing.

Meanwhile the janitor (everyone called it “Sardines” only, because it didn’t seem to have a given name) processed a multitude of error reports. Unlike human brains that made them feel the pain in the bodypart where it originated, a digital one gathered all the notifications in the same place, resulting in a severe headache for the android in question. Sardines had had to deal with constant headaches for weeks after his severed limbs had gotten re-attached. Connor claimed that “feeling” pain this way was a side-effect of deviance. He, too, found that he had trouble reading his own files clearly. In the RK’s case it wasn’t error reports getting replaced by physical pain, but him losing control over his major selling point, the crimescene re- and preconstruction app. More and more that program felt like a tool rather than an integral part of himself to Connor.

“Damn… damn you, detective!” Sardines hissed, all the while dismissing several prompts to forward the reports to CyberLife.

“I admit that is funny”, Tina agreed. “Do it again!”

Sardines glared at the officer, wishing Connor on both her and Reed.

“I think I’d rather show you a direct comparison to human pain!” he snapped.

The next thing Tina saw was Sardines pulling Gavin closer to himself. Taken by surprise the man found himself in a headlock, however, Sardines’ amateurishly repaired arms could not hold his victim tight enough. Gavin slipped away, grinned – and got tripped by the shaft of Sardines’ scrubber. The android raised the stick again, preparing to deliver a painful blow.

When Captain Fowler passed by the cafeteria next, accompanied by the new RK900, a full blown fistfight between the detective and the janitor had ensued. Each was getting cheered at by a small crowd of officers as well as a random handcuffed suspect whom officer Wilson had secured to the cupboard. The android’s supporters were the more numerous, Jeffrey noticed. Pretty much only Tina and the diehard android haters like Dave Allen preferred Reed over the kind PL600.

Gavin and Sardines were rolling on the floor now. Officers had to jump aside quickly, lest they’d get hit, too. Bob Lewis used the opportunity to kick Gavin, who was to believe it had been Sardines…

“Stop that! Will you… fucking… stop that, toaster?!”

“Wasn’t me! Now shut up and keep dying!”

“Don’t lie to me while I’m trying to beat you up!”

“I’m not lying! Not me!”

The captain savored the sight for a few second. “Why can’t you be integrated so well”, he then addressed Connor.

“That was sarcasm, Sir…?”

The RK didn’t receive an answer. Connor strongly suspected that it would have been “No” in this workplace, where putting each other to the gunpoint during arguments was considered proper conduct. But then you went and beat up one little detective and suddenly you were the office villain… that wasn’t fair! On the upside, the android who had beaten up Gavin Reed had been the RK800 prototype, whereas Connor was posing as his own successor. So at least this wasn’t on Connor’s cap anymore.

While Connor was pondering the unfairness of life in general and his own specifically, Tina explained the situation to Captain Fowler. The man seemed impressed by what he heard.

“Androids experiencing an equivalent of pain? That’s a gamechanger in police work!”

He turned to Sardines: “I want you to prepare a presentation on this. Take especially care to line out the differences, if any, in how it works for deviants compared to non-glitched androids!”

“Will… do… Sir…” the PL600 stammered.

“And wash your hands when you’re done with the detective”, Connor added. “You don’t know where it’s been.”

“Oh… right.” Only now Sardines realized that he was still grabbing Gavin. He let go of him and got up.

“Say, Reed, this keeps happening to you, huh? Getting trashed by our androids?” Dave gleefully commented while the human got up, too. Preferring Reed over Sardines didn’t mean that he’d liked either of them much, after all…

He knows, Daniel, the DPD’s canned sardine, thought. Fowler knows… or suspects… that I’m a deviant. Maybe even exactly which one. Or... what if he thinks I’m Simon?! I need to be careful!

But maybe Captain Fowler cared only about a smoothly running police department? In this case being useful instead of careful was the safer bet.

“I’ll start immediately on the lecture”, Daniel promised.

“But that was MY discovery!” Gavin protested between wiping his bloodied nose. “It should count for my promotion credit!”

As “Sardines” left the cafeteria, Connor stepped next to Gavin.

“Weren’t you the one who was afraid my predecessor would put him out of job, Mr. Reed?” he asked. “Don’t worry anymore! An RK android isn’t even needed for that. Looks like a common, outdated PL600 can achieve that feat.”

Gavin stared at the android. And then he stared some more. Eventually he uttered: “You’re right, tincan!”

Androids taking people’s jobs… but androids had to get programmed by humans in the first place. Adding one and one together that meant the future was in android training! Passing on experience, breaking the toasters in, teaching them the peculiarities of their workplace… Was that really so different from showing cadets the ropes? Whatever. It seemed to be the best path to get ahead and and thus Gavin Reed did something he’d never have thought possible: He ran after the PL600, shouting “Wait for me!”

Daniel turned around sharply.

“Why are you trailing after me? We aren’t fucking dating!”

“Ha! You’re one strange device. If your humans do not want you, you kill them, but if they want you, you yell at them.”

“I strongly contest that you are “my” human, detective.”

To almost everyone at the DPD, however, Sardines was exactly that: Gavin’s generous donation to the station, to avoid having to chip in for coffee or snacks ever again. Only Anderson and Connor were aware of the truth and they had their own reasons to keep it to themselves: Hank because he genuinely wanted to aid the deviants (and if he managed to re-socialize Daniel, there was nothing he wouldn’t be able to achieve), and Connor because if he exposed Daniel as a deviant, the PL600 in turn would expose him.

Daniel’s cover story came with the upside of officially being privately owned, not part of the DPD’s inventory. It came with the downside of being privately owned by Gavin Reed. The same Gavin Reed who now offered: “I’ll help you with the presentation!”

“Oh, right”, Daniel sighed. “The extra work you saddled me with. As if triple shifts day in and day out weren’t bad enough already.”

“Aw” Gavin went, “does the poor deviant have to work for a change?” He took a step closer and hissed: “Just say the word and you can join your kin at camp five instead!”

“I’m telling you that I don’t need help to set the presentation up!”

To Daniel’s surprise the detective nodded at this.

“Righto”, Gavin said. “But there’s subtleties in cop dynamics that you aren’t aware of. You need help to excel.”

“You’re scary when you’re making sense for once.”

Gavin reached up and slapped the android on its shoulder.

“Come on, let’s put their shiny new Connor to shame together! It’s the next best thing to getting revenge on the old one.”

Next to Hank Anderson Daniel was the only one in on the RK’s secret, he therefore knew it wasn’t just the “next best” thing. It was the real deal!

Daniel smiled. “I could warm up to that, detective.”

Connor watched the duo occupy an empty desk. He heard them discuss their project, then chat and eventually laugh at a joke one of them had made. His outwards expression didn’t change in any way, but secretly the android was crying blue murder:

First I catch deviance, then the two most annoying things in my life are teaming up. Figures.

[screaming-skvll]

The Deep Claim, the Final Shape, and the Will to Power: Nietzsche and the Hive

A Comparative Analysis of Key Ideas from Nietzsche and the Books of Sorrow

I am not a Warlock, but bear with me.

The key concepts in Hive philosophy, as articulated in the Books of Sorrow, are reflected or paralleled in the writings of Friedrich Nietzsche. Below, we shall examine the two central ideas in the Hive worldview, the Deep Claim and the notion of the Final Shape, consider pertinent excerpts from Nietzsche, and evaluate how these ideas inform how one should exist according to the Hive-Nietzschean perspective.

The Deep Claim is the foundation of Hive philosophy: “Existence is the struggle to exist” (Books of Sorrow 1:8, 2:3). Nietzsche never writes exactly so simple a characterization, but he expresses the same outlook:

we must beware of superficiality and get to the bottom of the matter, resisting all sentimental weakness: life itself is essentially appropriation, injury, overpowering of what is alien and weaker; suppression, hardness, imposition of one’s own forms (Beyond Good and Evil section 259).

Elsewhere, he puts it more poetically:

And life itself confided this secret to me: “Behold,” it said, “I am that which must always overcome itself. Indeed, you call it a will to procreate or a drive to an end, to something higher, farther, more manifold: but all this is one, and one secret.

“Rather would I perish than forswear this; and verily, where there is perishing and a falling of leaves, behold, there life sacrifices itself—for power. That I must be struggle and a becoming and an end and an opposition to ends—alas, whoever guesses what is my will should also guess on what crooked paths it must proceed.” (Thus Spoke Zarathustra, “On Self-Overcoming”)

For Nietzsche, as for the Hive, the essential quality of existence is the contest between each subject or form against all others. He would find the Deep Claim familiar and agreeable. Likewise, as the Hive (and the ambiguous Darkness or Deep which they serve) regard this contest as an amoral fact, Nietzsche too repudiates the very notion of any higher moral or ethical structure that might cast a shadow of condemnation on this harsh view of the universe. “Verily, men gave themselves all their good and evil”, he says. “Verily, they did not take it, they did not find it, nor did it come to them as a voice from heaven. Only man placed values in things to preserve himself—he alone created a meaning for things, a human meaning.” (Thus Spoke Zarathustra, “On the Thousand and One Goals”)

If the Deep Claim is Hive philosophy’s foundation, then the Final Shape is its pinnacle. As the Hive worm gods remind Oryx: “Existence is the struggle to exist. Only by playing that game to its final, unconditional victory can we complete the universe.” (Books of Sorrow 2:3) ‘Completing the universe’ means achieving the Final Shape: a form of existence impervious to destruction because it has destroyed everything other it has ever encountered. It is that which has struggled to exist against all else that existed, and prevailed. 

Says the worm god:

Don’t you want to build something real, something that lasts forever? Our universe gutters down towards cold entropy. Life is an engine that burns up energy and produces decay. Life builds selfish, stupid rules—morality is one of them, and the sanctity of life is another. These rules are impediments to the great work. The work of building a perfect, undying creation, a civilization everlasting. Something that cannot end. If a civilization cannot defend itself, it must be annihilated. If a King cannot hold his power, he must be betrayed. The worth of a thing can be determined only by one beautiful arbiter—that thing’s ability to exist, to go on existing, to remake existence to suit its survival. (Books of Sorrow 2:7)

Or, as Oryx reflects: “The only way to make something good is to make something that can’t be broken. And the only way to do that is to try to break everything.” (Books of Sorrow 4:4) 

Like the Deep Claim, the Final Shape is not subject to external moral condition. The Deep itself says, in complaint to Oryx, “they call us evil. Evil! Evil means ‘socially maladaptive.’ We are adaptiveness itself.” Far from being evil, pursuit of the Final Shape is merely “the universe figuring out what it should be in the end.” (Books of Sorrow 4:2) It is not a question of achieving a good end, but rather a question of existence or nonexistence—and since existence at any cost is the only end to strive for according to the Deep Claim, it is therefore the only possible good.

From Nietzsche comes a parallel concept, perhaps of less cosmic scale, but no less all-pervasive importance in his view: the will to power. We find the best, clearest definition of this often misunderstood concept in Beyond Good and Evil (section 13): “A living thing seeks above all to discharge its strength—life itself is will to power; self-preservation is only one of the indirect and most frequent results.” In other words, will to power is not merely the desire to accumulate power or grow stronger. Rather, it is the urge for the action of power, the use of strength, in and of itself, for its own sake. Whereas the notion of the Final Shape points toward the ultimate outcome of the contest of every form of existence, the idea of the will to power describes the drive to participate in that contest as a naturally inborn feature of living things.

Accordingly, Nietzsche regards following the will to power as a good in itself. Oryx would heartily agree when Nietzsche asks and answers:

What is good? Everything that heightens the feeling of power in man, the will to power, power itself.

What is bad? Everything that is born of weakness.

What is happiness? The feeling that power is growing, that resistance is overcome.

Not contentedness but more power; not peace but war; not virtue but fitness...

The weak and the failures shall perish... And they shall be given every possible assistance.

What is more harmful than any vice? Active pity for all the failures and all the weak (Antichrist, section 2).

Here Nietzsche’s sentiment is eerily similar to the rejection of civilization proclaimed by the worm gods and the Deep. In the universal war between formless and form, the Deep’s pro-social adversary, the Sky, “builds gentle places, safe for life” (Books of Sorrow 1:8), which the worm gods characterize as “cosmic slavery.” Like Nietzsche, they regard supporting or protecting what would not survive on its own as perversely contrary to the nature of reality.

The Sky seeds civilizations predicated on a terrible lie—that right actions can prevent suffering. That pockets of artificial rules can defy the final, beautiful logic. This is like trying to burn water. Antithetical to the nature of reality, where deprivation and competition are universal. In the Deep, we enslave nothing. Liberation is our passion. We exist to help the universe achieve its terminal, self-forging glory. (Books of Sorrow 2:1)

Oryx is even more articulate in his argument against sheltering civilization:

A species which believes that a good existence can be invented through games of civilization and through laws of conduct is doomed by that belief. They will die in terror. The lawless and the ruthless will drag them down to die. The universe will erase their monuments. But the one that sets out to understand the one true law and to perform worship of that law will by that decision gain control over their future. They will gain hope of ascendance and by their ruthlessness they will assist the universe in arriving at its perfect shape. Only by eradicating from ourselves all clemency for the weak can we emulate and become that which endures forever. This is inevitable. The universe offers only one choice and it is between ruthlessness and extinction. We stand against the fatal lie that a world built on laws of conduct may ever resist the action of the truly free. This is the slavery of the [Sky], the crime of creation, in which labor is wasted on the construction of false shapes. (Books of Sorrow 5:5)

Nietzsche essentially agrees: “One has deprived reality of its value, its meaning, its truthfulness, to precisely the extent to which one has mendaciously invented an ideal world.” (Ecce Homo, section 2) Elsewhere, he elaborates:

I call an animal, a species, or an individual corrupt when it loses its instincts, when it chooses, when it prefers, what is disadvantageous for it... Life itself is to my mind the instinct for growth, for durability, for an accumulation of forces, for power: where the will to power is lacking there is decline. (Antichrist, section 6)

To both Nietzsche and the Hive, deviation from the struggle to exist, discharge of one’s strength to any end but continual overcoming, especially to prop up anything or anyone that otherwise would succumb—all this is not only wasteful, but reprehensible, since it runs counter to the natural will to power (in Nietzsche’s terms) and hinders the process of the universe toward the Final Shape (in Hive terms). Since they are videogame villains, the Hive enact their philosophy by pursuing literal cosmic annihilation. Of course, Oryx sees it otherwise: “The Deep doesn’t want everything to be the same: it wants life, strong life, life that lives free without the need for a habitat of games to insulate it from reality.” (Books of Sorrow 5:6) Nietzsche could almost have written the same words. He may not have harbored the Hive’s ambition for universal destruction, but he certainly seems to have shared much of the outlook behind it.

Toland, that most accomplished connoisseur of Hive arcana, once addressed us: “Dearest Guardian, I write to you from a place of high contempt. No no no, don’t be offended, don’t be so superficial—it’s in the architecture of these spaces. They look down on you.” (Grimoire, “Echo of Oryx”) This hearty contempt is the characteristic attitude of the Deep Claim, and those who would pursue attainment of the Final Shape. It invites all comers to contest conflicting claims to existence, and looks down upon those others as necessarily untrue, unworthy of existence unless they prove otherwise by destroying and overcoming—which itself only proves the Deep Claim’s truth. Tellingly, Nietzsche too exhorts his readers: “One must be above mankind in strength, in loftiness of soul—in contempt.” (Antichrist, preface)

Author’s note: My quotations of Nietzsche are taken from Walter Kaufmann’s translations. I am happy to provide bibliographical information and precise citations upon request. All emphasis in those quotations is as it appears in the source texts.

[leviosarpg]

Congratulations, SNOOZE! You have been accepted for the role of AMADEUS AVERY! Snooze, where do I begin with this app? When I created Amadeus I knew I wanted depth, but Snooze, you gave me so much more depth than I could have ever dreamed, I mean for goodness sake, you gave me an entire diagram! Your app genuinely captured me from beginning to end. From Amadeus’s relationship with his sister, Isolda, to his fascination with Ancient Runes, I was beyond blown away with how you managed to flesh Amadeus out into a fully actualized person--a living, breathing wizard. But what put this incredible app over-the-top, was your incredible second para sample. Despite bringing so much depth to Amadeus, you still manged to highlight his cruelty in a way so gut-wrenchingly perfect, know I will remain in complete awe for the rest of the night.

Your faceclaim change to: Keith Powers has been accepted. Don’t forget to send in your account to the main and complete the items listed on the CHECKLIST!

THE PLAYER

name/age/pronouns/timezone: Susan (though I prefer Snooze); 18; she/her; PST

THE CHARACTER

desired role: Funny story! Amadeus was actually not my first choice. I was trying to figure out who to apply between Bishop, Odin, and Silvanus. I got my Amadeus inspiration from brainstorming for Bishop, because I was asking myself, what kind of dude is Bishop listening to? Then I got into a rabbit hole and tada! Amadeus app.

Here’s the thing: Amadeus is nothing like any character I’ve played/written before. I tend to be attracted to characters who stand in the middle, who are struggling with a decision, torn between two sides, who don’t want to check the option boxes presented to them and who seek to make their own paths. But Amadeus grabs my attention. He grows up with a solid foundation and he’s sure of himself. He knows exactly what he’s doing. What happens if things deviate from his plans? He may be smart but he’s only eighteen. There are things he doesn’t know and situations he hasn’t experienced. His relationship with Seneca is so, so intriguing because how in Merlin’s name can a person like him has feelings? I’m also a sucker for secret/forbidden romance, so there’s that. I want to let him suffer and make mistakes — I want to see his growth and how the war and certain secrets will change him. He’s a volatile little guy. Anyway, read on!

gender/pronouns: he/him; cis-male

extracurriculars: In addition to the pre-selected ones, Amadeus is also in Astronomy Club, Charms Club, and Dueling Club,

para sample:

Note: The first sample I have no specific year in mind — it could be Amadeus’ fifth, sixth, or seventh year. The second one takes place in the summer of Amadeus’ fifth year.

Also! To prevent any confusion, since I wrote the app non-chronologically, Isolda is Amadeus’ little sister. They are eight years apart. Isolda was kidnapped in the summer of Amadeus’ fifth year, and he was the one who tortured and killed her kidnapper afterward.

————————————

Amadeus dressed in the dark, glancing at a mirror that only outlined the dark silhouette of his body, as the sun has yet to rise this early in the day, and he broke the unbearable silence by humming quietly a tune whose origin he could not recall. His mind was still groggy from the ten-hour sleep he’d indulged in yesterday. Stifling a yawn, he snatched his wand from the nightstand and whispered a Reducio to his trunk.

When he was about to leave, the door to his room cracked open, letting in a sliver of darkness against the grey carpet of the floor — the hallways had always had a tendency to cloak itself in pitch-black shadows, even darker than his room. A small figure entered.

“Where ar’ya goin’,” Isolda muttered, her words slurred together because she certainly shouldn’t be up at this time. Amadeus frowned, turned on the chandelier light with a wandless wave, and kneeled down to see her face-to-face.

“Hogwarts, of course,” he replied. “I would’ve stopped by your room before I leave, you know that?”

She nodded, though she didn’t seem convinced. “Papa said the same when he was going to Turkey, but he didn’t.”

Amadeus sighed; his father may be a great man, but he never remembered his promises. He hoisted Isolda up and tucked his left arm underneath her legs so that her face was buried in his neck, then he walked to her room. His nerves tingled while going upstairs, but his parents, he thought, were still deeply asleep and thus unlikely to appear and shake their heads at his physical display of care. It was a shame that Isolda was born into a culture of rigidity. She was too emotional for her own good.

She was already sleeping when they arrived, so Amadeus laid her gently on her bed and pulled the blanket over her. He fished from his pocket a small set of papers, upon which he’d copied numerous alchemical formulas from Hogwarts’ library. Surely she would have a grand time looking through them until Christmas.

After that, he called for Milsy, their house-elf, to make sure that his notes to his parents would be delivered when they breakfasted later. Shrugging on a suit jacket and a hat, he left the Averys’ premises with his miniaturized trunk and apparated away.

Amadeus stopped by Hogsmeade Post Office to drop off several contract packages for his father, then he headed to Borgin and Burkes. The air was so foggy and saturated that he felt as if he’d just swam the Thames.

“The Tome of Cleopatra,” he demanded upon entering. The man working behind the faux-wood table pursed his lips and sniffed his rat-like nose twice, but Amadeus only needed to lift his eyebrows to kick the man into gear. Anyone who didn’t recognize him may as well sign a death warrant — a social one if he was in a good mood or a literal one if he wasn’t.  While waiting, he eyed a pair of gilded cufflinks sitting in a glass box on a shelf. Diamonds decorated their surface, glittering brightly despite the dust that had settled on the box. They were certainly expensive and a fitting gift for someone he knew. He may have to lift some curses, but that shouldn’t be too hard. Small, probably unnoticeable, easily excusable price, perhaps …

No, no. Amadeus let the temptation slide. He should not be so careless — nor should he, for that matter, assume that the action would be appreciated. The man returned, slamming the thick book on the counter, and Amadeus felt dread creeping up his spine.

Merlin helps me, how can I go through this whole thing?

He slid the pouch of Galleon over and left with the tome. Seeing a beggar on the side of the road, he spat on the old woman’s face, then, for good measure, kicked her can of coins as far as possible. He wanted to make other people feel as miserable as he suddenly was.

The damn book. These damn feelings. This bloody muggy weather. What rights do they have to make him feel like a failure? Nothing! He was fucking Amadeus Avery! His throne sat on a wealth of power and money and he knew how to keep and better them. The economy of Wizarding Britain lay in his palm. The rich magic of this planet was his to command. He was not a failure.

Platform 9 ¾ was, as expected, empty, with only a couple of stragglers here and there and two shady individuals whispering near the ticket station. The Hogwarts train was here though, and its doors were unlocked, so Amadeus entered and claimed a cabin for himself. On the cabins of the Gryffindors he carved a mild curse of bad vision, created a few weeks ago, and hoped that it would kick in at opportune times during Quidditch matches, though there was a large chance that he guessed the cabin wrong or that the curse would have already petered out by then.

Satisfied with his task, he returned to his cabin and lay down on the bench, drifting off to a quick nap.

————————————

Trigger warning: Violence, gore, death, vomiting, torture

Money changed hands, and Amadeus stepped inside the cell where Isolda’s kidnapper was sleeping, resting, so peacefully that Amadeus felt his hatred burst out like a cobra springing to tear apart its prey. The man shifted on the stone floor. Amadeus gripped his wand tighter and thought, if you know what’s good for you, you will wake up now, a clumsy attempt at Legilimency, but he didn’t care for it had succeeded. The man’s eyes snapped open, deranged and red, and a half-smile tugged on the corner of his chapped, bloody lips.

“What’s this?” he spoke, voice hoarse and tinged with amusement. “Come to kill me?”

He stared down at the wretched piece of shit that didn’t deserve the mercy of the Dementors with his back straight, his voice steady, and he said, “Yes.”

The man mustn’t have expected a direct answer, as his expression faltered for a moment, but he went on, “Yeah, let’s do it then.”

“Not yet. Petrificus Totalus.”

The spell hit true. Amadeus shrugged off his suit jacket and set it on the floor; then he rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, unhurried, for he had all the time in the world, all the while he flickered brief glances at the kidnapper to gauge his emotions, which had become more muted, more cautious, and, to Amadeus’ pleasure, more frightened.

Amadeus placed his wand on top of his rumpled suit, popped a collar button open, and kicked the man’s stomach hard. The man’s back slammed into the wall with a satisfying crack. Amadeus kicked again, this time to the man’s chest, and heard the pleasant sound of ribs breaking. He went on, and on, and on, lost in the vesuvian rage, in the rhythm of grunts and the thudding of soft flesh. At one point Amadeus straddled the man’s body and started punching his face, aiming everywhere he could—cheeks, nose, mouth, forehead.

“You think you can insult an Avery and leave unscathed?” Amadeus shouted, panting from the physical exertion. “You touched my sister, filthy mudblood, and I will make you fucking beg to be killed by the end of this.”

He stood up and backed away a few steps, grabbing his wand.

“Petrificus Totalus, Petrificus Totalus, Petrificus Totalus,” Amadeus intoned.

The man’s muscles seized tighter, tighter, until he was shaking and sweating and the veins in his neck were bulging, until several loud snaps rang loud, the sounds of ruptured muscles and tendons, and Amadeus felt the delicious, ugly glee in him morph into a grin. He released the spell, but the man remained in the same position, cursing, pleading, tearing up.

“Crucio.” A roar of pain; the man’s body arched up.

“Crucio.” Nonsensical babbling for mercy; empty promises to do whatever the Averys wanted. Too late.

“Crucio.” Eyes rolled up; a drooling mess; broken whimpers.

Amadeus paused. He breathed. He calmed his pounding heart. He’d gone further than he had ever been, and his fingers were trembling, maybe from the magical drain, maybe from the bleeding knuckles, maybe from the horror that was beginning to overcome his fury. But—Isolda, he thought. The rational part of his mind was yelling at him to stop, retreat, recalculate, for he, frankly, didn’t know where this was heading toward, didn’t know if he would jump off that cliff of indecision and into the chasm of immorality, passing the point of no return, staining his hand with the blood of another.

So Amadeus delayed. He transfigured all his buttons to thin needles, then he crouched down and held up the man’s hand. The hand that dared take away Isolda.

“Ennervate.”

This was the part he would not remember, the part that would appear blank were he to search for it:

Amadeus lined a needle to the tip of the man’s index finger and pushed it in steadily, watching life, awakened by pain, returning to the man’s dull eyes. The man screamed, wildly, uncontrollably, all his self-control gone. Amadeus kept on going: middle finger, ring finger, pinky. Deaf to the howling, he repeated the procedure to the other hand, half of his mind a far distance from reality while the other half drew on courage from hatred. Afterward, Amadeus stabbed the man in the stomach with the knife in his pants’ pocket, once for every hour Isolda was missing, methodically, as if hypnotized. He switched to the thighs once he ran out of space.

Finished, Amadeus moved back and took stock of his handiwork. The darkness of night hid the worst parts, but somehow he could still make out every bruise, every cut, and every bit of blood that littered the man’s body. The man yet lived.

“Merlin,” he murmured.

He pointed his wand to the man again.

You’ve got to mean it.

He’d done this before, a dozen times, but only to kill insects or to pretend to kill Isolda’s monster in the closet, never to a human.

You’ve got to be calm. I don’t care if you’re in the middle of a five-way duel, find that moment of silence in your head.

He reminded himself that this—this was worth it. For Isolda. For the Averys name. Or, if not, to end the man’s suffering.

Aim, draw on your willingness to kill, and be swift. Like snapping your fingers.

“Avada Kedavra.”

A flash of green, and then, the end.

He put on his suit jacket and cast an illusion over himself. Money changed hands, from a quivering grip to a hesitant palm, and Amadeus apparated back home. All of the lights were off, and he stumbled down the hallway, noisily, but only one elf appeared. She asked what he needed, but he didn’t reply, so she followed him as he opened the door to his room, crossed the bed, pushed forward the bathroom’s door, planted his hands on the sides of the sink, looked at himself in the mirror, and saw, as reality closed down on him like a strangling noose, the wretched face of a murderer and the wide, panicked eyes of a teenager yet to be of age.

He threw up. For a while.

“Milsy,” he called after his stomach stopped churning, throat still burning from the acid and nose thick with the scent of vomit.

“Yes, Master?”

“Get me some warm milk.”

“With three spoons of honey, Master?”

“Yeah.”

The house elf went away.

Now facing his reflection alone, Amadeus glared at himself, as if disgusted with his inability to contain the appearance of shock, and he said, “It was a good kill.”

Then, again, with more bravo, “It was a good kill. Your first one too.” He paused. “You need to learn that sooner or later, so it doesn’t matter either way. Father did it when he was eighteen. Mother when she was twenty. Everyone does it.” Not to mention it was a befitting punishment for taking away Isolda for thirty six hours.

And so he kept on going, muttering to himself, repeating what he’d said, making it a mantra, making it his truth, a truth that he, perhaps, could live with.

OTHERS & EXTRA (OPTIONAL)

FC: Keith Powers!

Extra Content!

Disclaimer: I’m 100% down to change some details of what I wrote below, since a lot of them involve my cursory interpretation of the rest of the characters. Also, I try to explore his relationship with Seneca as much as possible, but I don’t want to delve too deep until I talk to Seneca’s writer & discuss some details.

BIOGRAPHY (Intro, Hogwarts, Tom Riddle): An imaginary piece of writing by Amadeus, briefly exploring his past and his years at Hogwarts. Note that this represents his perception of the world around him and does not necessarily reflect reality, especially when he boasts about his accomplishments. This is how he wants people to remember him.

LETTERS I WILL NOT SEND, WORDS I WILL NEVER SAY: Short, non-chronological pieces that Amadeus “writes” (the exact mechanics are explained in PERSONALITY section) and burns as an outlet for his emotions for Seneca. Amadeus only pens these when he’s overwhelmed with feelings, so they may seem excessively sentimental.  

PERSONALITY: Self-explanatory.

HEADCANONS: Things that I can’t fit into other categories. This part may seem really messy because I was jotting down thoughts as I go, so I apologize in advance!

THE DIAGRAM: Because I got lost in Amadeus’ complexity. It’s in a separate photo submission.

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BIOGRAPHY

Introduction

August 15, 1942

As the heir of the Illustrious and Ancient House of Avery, it is traditional that I record the events in my life for future generations to peruse. For this is merely the first draft, I shall save the typical long-winded introduction for later and get started on the story.

My parents are a good match, perhaps the best there has ever been in the Avery line. My mother is Calista Avery, the Averys’ Matriarch, and my father Sivert Solberg, heir to the prominent Solberg line in Norway. They met during the Autumn Ball of Marseilles and was engaged three years later, in 1925. Their marriage was a winter one, brilliant and luxurious with six hundred and eighty two guests from Britain and Norway. Sivert adopted our name as per traditions of marrying a Head of a family, and I was born about two years later in the summer solstice of 1928. I should have had two sisters, but my mother miscarried once, so now it is only me and little Isolda, who is eight years younger than me. She will be attending Beauxbaton three years from now, and we are, naturally, very excited, for our private tutors have affirmed that she has talents in Alchemy. I was jealous of her for a while — Alchemy, after all, is the field of famous wizards such as Nicholas Flamel and Albus Dumbledore. But I later realized that her work would bring her to the shadows, to the edge of the crowd, while I, heir and a genius myself of the Dark Arts, would have the spotlight. I have stopped my unwarranted competition with her since and have fully devoted to train her to be worthy of the Avery name.

But enough about my sister. My name is Amadeus Avery. I have no middle name, for I am in the shadow of no one but myself. The Avery name is powerful, the Avery blood more so, and I plan to be the greatest Avery to have ever lived. I was born June 22, 1928, a day brimming with magic and, coincidentally, also the birthdate of the 5th Head of the Averys. My birth was a hard one, for I was my mother’s first child, twelve hours in total, a sign, apparently, for my stubbornness and determination. I grew up in a household of emotional detachment — not apathy, I must clarify, as I always know that my parents love and want the best for me. Public and private gestures of affection are much frowned upon, and we show our care through indirect means — material goods and gifts, the sharing of secrets and inner thoughts, criticisms and advice (how else could we maintain the image of a perfect family?).

My parents have had rough times — the aftermath of the first miscarriage when I was six, for example. My mother shut herself from my father, and he, frustrated with the isolation, left the country for two weeks, during which he had a tryst with some Ukranian lover. My mother, too, went out more frequently to meet with, I had guessed, her own lover, and sometimes my tutors and I would be the only inhabitants of the house. The Lestranges and the Rowles had had a grand time with the gossip then, I remember. At some point, I’m not sure when, my parents properly talked with each other (thanks to my uncle’s insistent; I have mentioned, of course, that my family does not explicitly express emotions) and the issue was resolved. Their connection and loyalty, strangely, only grew stronger. Perhaps the bad streak in their history motivated them to shine even brighter than before. Isolda’s birth when I was eight smoothed over the last of the scars, though I knew they could never forget their first daughter, Leona Avery.

Up until six I was showered with toys and magical trinkets, with bedtime stories of the founding of the Dark Arts and the beginnings of the Averys in the Fertile Crescent. We are part of the Sacred Twenty Eight, but such title is inconsequential, for the Avery name has, for the better part of the Wizarding World’s history, though not without ups and downs, garnered much reverence from the general populace due to our natural inclination to the Arts of Old Magic, recently defined as the Dark Arts by the more ignorant. My first accidental magic occurred when I was seven months old — hunger had compelled me to call upon all the chocolate cakes reserved for a party later — and after I learned to speak, my paternal granduncle, the former Norwegian Head of Law Enforcement, came down to teach me the basics of manipulating magic. Afterward tutors taught me, only the best in London, among which are a former assistant to Nicholas Flamel, Vice Chief of the Auror Department (my maternal aunt), a descendant of the Gamp family,  and the reigning Champion of European Dueling Tournament (though she only started when I got into Hogwarts).

I mastered the curriculum of Hogwarts’ first year when I was nine, and after that I branch sideways instead of forward (it was later explained that my physical body needed to catch up with my magical prowess; balance and harmony are important in the making of a strong wizard like me). We possess two libraries worth of tomes — one in the current Averys mansion and one in our ancestral home in Babylon (formerly known as the Babylonian Society of Ancient Magic). Books are not my forte, as I learned better with practical demonstration, but they nonetheless are an incredible source of knowledge. I delve into the arts of occlumency, legilimency, necromancy, ritual magic, blood magic, bone magic, runic magic, demonology (rather too obscure and unstable to be feasible, sadly), various branches of hex- and spellcrafting, ancient Egyptian and Roman curses (those people have a fascinating imagination, I must admit), and the lighter sides of magic such as arithmancy and charms. When I entered Hogwarts, I was not a master in any of those fields, but I knew enough to be one of the top students, and my sheer power was often enough to overwhelm my opponents.

Hogwarts

I have been aware of pureblood politics since I could read, but to be thrown into such a large body of students was a nasty surprise. Slytherin, the microcosm of pureblood society, was filled with intricate schemes and power plays between noble houses, a network that I at first found it hard to engage in, for the Averys had never been terribly friendly or popular. We stand above everyone else — because we are, indeed, better than most — and the purebloods, with their fragile egos, often take offense to our supposed arrogance. It is the Lestranges, the Rowles, the Malfoys, the Blacks, among many others, whose voices are heard and frequently recited. I struggled for two years to gain a footing in their network to no avail until I realized that I did not have to do so. I am Amadeus Avery, and I need not their acknowledgement. As soon as I stopped participating in their games, I became respected. They value me because they understand my importance, because they see my influence despite not being the top of their food chain. And so I gained my footing in pureblood society by refusing to acknowledge its presence. My parents were proud, and that Christmas they gifted me a brilliant case of jewelry stones for me to practice my blood curses on.

In school I focus on the Dark Arts, Charms, and Ancient Runes — the rest are unimportant to me, though I maintain respectable grades. I am far too busy with my projects nfor silly creatures or, Merlin forbid, divination. Astronomy is decent, but the subject is impossible to enjoy because the Blacks are so disgustingly vocal about their naming traditions. The teachers are merely satisfactory — none of them seemed to appreciate my talents in Dark Magic. Their responses typically fall into two camps, wariness or jealousy. Horace Slughorn is slightly better than most, as his Slug Club provides immense networking opportunities for like-minded individuals. It is where I developed a friendship with Tom Riddle — rest assured that I shall expand upon this remarkable person later.

I discovered the joy of inter-house rivalry in my second year when I became Beater for Slytherin’s Quidditch Team. Ivon Blaine was particularly entertaining. He’d always been weaker than me in all aspects — save for some lucky instances on the Quidditch field, of course — and I wholeheartedly enjoyed taunting him. He’d always been so easy to rile up, so easy to manipulate, and I, who had recently discovered my sharp tongue, was only too thrilled to test it on him. Gryffindors have always been so embarrassingly brash and physical — it is absolutely nauseating how they publicly display their affections and weaknesses out in the open air, as if they are desperate to be hurt. The duels were mere exercises to me, though they had the side benefit of elevating my reputation. Ivon became predictable as time passed, however, and I stopped enjoying our little games. I had better things to worry about — Grindelwald, for instance, and Tom Riddle’s vision. Though riling up Ivon no longer brought me as much joy as it did before, I am still rather entertained by his reaction whenever I speak to him.

Bishop Vermeer is a Ravenclaw that I respect. I met him during my fourth year while preparing for my OWLs and was impressed with his intelligence, which rivaled mine. He listens more than he speaks, but his interjections are always insightful and helpful to me, and so I come back to him as a friend, always, for his ears. We work on projects too, mine more often than his. I think he is too smart for his own good — he is never swayed by my honey sweet words, even though he sometimes pretends he does, and I am both disappointed and pleased by that. Had he been more weak-willed, I doubt I would have respected him as much as I am now. It is a shame that he is not more zealous about Riddle’s cause, but when the time comes, I have faith that he will side with us. If not — well, I would not wish to face him, out of respect for our companionship.

Tom Riddle

He was a bit of an underdog, I must admit, and him being quite mum about his origins except when absolutely necessary (at least during his first year at Hogwarts) hinted at his blood status, though now I dare not think about it, for his legilimency skills far outstrip my occlumency. His cause gripped my attention the moment he mentioned it in the Slytherin common room, and I remember being vocally supportive of it, for, with the current politics surrounding Grindelwald, I recognized immediately that his ideas would bring us far. Tom Riddle is a revolutionary who will usher in an era of greatness, of pureblood culture and appreciation for real magic, not the childish stuff that Hogwarts teaches. I intend to be at the forefront of this movement alongside Riddle. I will make a name for myself.

You may wonder why I am not the leader. First of all, I have no wish to make an enemy of Riddle — we may match in dueling prowess, but he is, I am reluctant to admit, hard to outwit. Furthermore, he has a better hold on the purebloods than I do — as I have said before, the Avery name is respectable, not popular. Riddle has a way with words that is gently persuasive and malleable. He knows how to push buttons. Let him lead the movement and I be his loyal soldier. The position is prestigious enough that I can contend with not being the top. His ego and mine sometimes clash, but I try to keep to his good side more often than not. We share details of our projects, though he tends to work alone rather than in a group, and he absolutely detests me offering help.

I suppose I shall mark this as the temporary end of this biography. I intend to update this as frequently as possible.

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LETTERS I WILL NOT SEND,

WORDS I WILL NEVER SAY

My grandmother, a famous jewelry collector in her nineties, gave my father a ring of blue zircon, who, in turn, passed it down to me. It sat in a drawer back in my room, only to be worn during Christmas balls. The ring was thick and ostentatiously ornamental, heavy on my middle finger every time I wore it, and I complained all the time until I was five and learnt the art of formal presentation. The ring is a sign of power and a reminder that my parents are of two famous lines, and it often sat next to the Avery heirloom ring on my index finger, glinting, mesmerizingly blue, always distracting me when light shines at the right angle. Tonight, when I saw you, when I looked into your eyes, I thought of my ring, and I wished, for but a brief millisecond, that we were better, that I was better, so that I might, perhaps, be brave enough to —

[ … ]

I did not see you today, but I was frightened for you, for us. Charms class ended early, so I was traversing the hallway, sketching in my head a new design of some anti-apparition wards, when thoughts of you filled my mind. I remembered our kiss yesterday even though I tried not to — at least, not until I was safe in my dorm. I couldn’t help smiling. Then, Tom Riddle rounded the corner, and I froze. My heart dropped, my mind emptied, and I willed my face to express something close to pleasant surprise. You cannot imagine how fearful I was. It isn’t close to my fright for Isolda when she was kidnapped, but it is certainly high up the list. Had he been searching in my mind, we would have been discovered, and the fallout, though may seem inconsequential at first, could only be catastrophic to me. Everything would have been ruined, and the choices I would have to make were unimaginable. But he wasn’t searching, thank Merlin, and I would have known if he was. I am entertaining the thought of avoiding you for a while until I could calm down. I know I may hurt you, but you must understand that I have to control myself, I have to set boundaries, or else I —

[ … ]

You were worried today, and I am not sure why. Had you been anyone else, I would have attempted to persuade an answer out of you, but strangely I complied with your request not to pry. You have no idea how much control you have over me, and I am frightened. I cannot see our future, though I must admit that I always strived not to think about our future; there are too many complications there that I cannot resolve, and I cannot bear the thought of you absent from my life, much as I loathe to admit such weakness in myself. I want to enjoy the present and only the present. Sometimes, you are the only outlet for my emotions. Sometimes, we are strangers. Sometimes, you scare me to death with your glances and your smiles and your kisses. I have thought about breaking things cleanly between us, because the stakes are becoming higher and higher, and yet I never manage to do so, because to break cleanly is to admit that there is something to break, and because I simply —  

[ … ]

Sometimes I believe my parents are clay figurines carved with human features and charmed to be alive. Their expressions are stiff, their emotions strained, and they always seem most at ease with blank countenances and frigid glances, with careless words and calculated touches. I remember vividly that they barely touched Isolda when she was returned to us, a mess of a child, eyes red and dress muddied. My mother touched her hair, and I could not tell if she was too frightened to do more or if she simply detested public displays of affections so much that she would ignore her own child’s trauma. I was the one who scooped Isolda up in my arms and soothed her cries. I tried my best anyway. No one has ever done such things to me. You may wonder why I am telling this story, and here is why: I noticed that you were distraught today. You were hurt, and I hurt for you, but I could do nothing to alleviate whatever burden you were shouldering. I was too busy struggling with my confusion toward you. I do not know what to do. I do not know what we are. I asked myself how I could grow to care for you when I was not built for such emotions, how I could be in —

[ … ]

For a moment I feared that our secret was exposed, but we both performed well the role of casual acquaintances in class today, don’t you think? I am relieved that despite certain progress in our … companionship, we are still capable of maintaining a facade of normality in front of the masses. Tom Riddle, I think, suspects I am hiding something, but he cares far too much for his pet project to figure out. He’s never been too invested in our personal lives. If worse comes to worst, I could still tell him about my projects on developing possible resistance to the Killing Curse and mass-producing Inferi through a variant of a demonic rune design, neither of which, unfortunately, are straightforward enough for practical use, but they certainly will satisfy his curiosity. On a side note, I wish so fervently that I could buy you a better gift for your birthday, but alas, I could only lie about my expenses for so much, and the size of your gift could not be too large. My wish manifested in my dream three nights ago. In it we were happy, had been for months, and I, on that brilliant winter day, like a bloody muggle, horrifyingly, was on my knees —  

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PERSONALITY:

Amadeus is …

Arrogant: He believes himself to be better than everyone else due to his magical might and his bloodline tracing back to the beginning of civilization.

His arrogance doesn’t quite manifest in speech (like, say, Draco Malfoy) but in his body language, his stance, the way he looks at people, the inflections of his tone. Taken alone, his words may seem casual and respectful, but coming from him they could be the worst insults.

He doesn’t care that people are weaker because of their circumstances. He cares that people are weaker than him, period.

Hypocritical: He criticizes the actions and personalities of other people but does not admit to himself that he sometimes shares those characteristics and does similar things.

For example: He thinks displays of affection are a weakness, yet he treasures his moments with Seneca and loves Isolda. He claims that he doesn’t care about Venus’ (or Odette’s) popularity, but he is actually jealous that they, along with the Lestranges and Rowles, have the ability to influence a crowd. He preaches that you reap what you sow, but when confronted with the consequences of his actions, he will never admit his faults. He believes Olive Hornby ridiculous for being contradictory in her actions (a guilt-ridden bully), but he is a creature of dichotomy also.

Judgemental: The number of people he respects or gets along with is small due to his tendency to either be critical of their differences (compared to him) or be jealous of what they have that he doesn’t.

Obstinate & Ambitious: Once he has a goal, he will never budge from it — for instance, nothing can shake him from his desire to be the best Avery there ever has been. It is difficult to change his mind about anything, including first impressions of people and ideologies.

Cruel: He is cruel not because he wishes to hurt (unless under certain circumstances) but because he is naturally unsympathetic to most.

But he is also …

Passionate: Though he is raised and tries to be otherwise, Amadeus is a passion-driven individual.

He loves magic and the Dark Arts, loves its instability and its potential for good and bad, and he delves into research with a furious fervor, never stopping, always wanting to have more, know more, always wishing to break the limits and go beyond what is known.

His jealousy comes easily. Amadeus grows up thinking he has the world in his palm, so he’s jealous of anyone who seems to be better than he.

He absolutely adores Isolda, at least once he gets over his jealousy, and he showers her with love and affection to a level that would be frowned upon by his parents had they known. He thinks she is too soft to be an Avery — she was born to be compassionate, and the rigidity of his parents hurts her, so he will lessen that pain for her in any way possible.

As an unintentional consequence of his love for Isolda, he also comes to like her pet hippogriff (a species of smaller size, fitting to live in a mansion) despite his vocal denouncement of anything creature-related.

He has deep affections for Seneca Montague — love, perhaps, though he’d never admit it — and despite his best efforts to contain these feelings, they are too much to keep inside, always threatening to spill out, and he has to compartmentalize his feelings, sometimes unsuccessfully.

Clever: He has a different brand of intelligence, but his mind, full of knowledge, always proves to be useful.

He may not be the best strategist, but he can process information incredibly fast and skip to a conclusion in lightning-speed. He works best under pressure and during duels.

He has an instinctive grasp on spellcrafting and runic magic, though he tends to lean toward the latter. He’s like a genius computer programmer or an engineer. He knows the pieces and he knows how to put them together; when they don’t work, he could easily tweak a bit here and fix a bit there to craft better rune diagrams for long-term curses and charms.

He cannot, for the life of him, read theories, but after a single demonstration, he can understand even the most complex alchemical concept

He figures out a way to compartmentalize his feelings for Seneca so he will not have to acknowledge them:

In the moments he shares with Seneca, he will not think of the repercussions. When he is not with Seneca, he will try to put him out of mind.

Sometimes when he feels too much, he would put his feelings on paper — using a quill charmed to inscribe his thoughts — and then he’d burn it. The reasoning is that if he makes it physical and then destroys it, whatever that is bothering him would stop existing. He doesn’t read these paragraphs, nor does he physically write them, so it’s easier for him to deny his feelings.

A downside to this compartmentalizing method is that his mood can swing widely from hour to hour, and often he wonders if it would someday break him. It works for now, so he doesn’t care much.

He is proud of …

His dueling skills: He has lost to no one except Tom Riddle and occasionally some members of the Harbingers & Liberation.

His runic diagrams: They are his own creations, and he is proud and thrilled to see them in action, no matter how destructive they could be.

His knowledge: He is well-versed in the rules of Wizarding economy and pureblood politics, and he was taught to keep up the prominence of the Avery name. Magically, his knowledge is shallow but extensive, and he frequently reads (or tries to read) to gain more information.

The murder of Isolda’s kidnapper: He tortured her kidnapper before finally killing him. It was his first kill and first usage of the Killing Curse on a human at the age of fifteen. Deep down, he’s horrified at his actions, but he successfully convinces himself to be proud because he could never admit that he feels guilty — a feeling that does not exist in the Avery household.

And he hates …

Nothing, which is what he would’ve said to himself, but in reality:

The isolation of the Averys: He envies those who can participate in pureblood politics and loathes that he is often pushed to the sides. He may pretend that he doesn’t need them, that the Averys doesn’t need to be a participant, but he is, nonetheless, lonely, because he doesn’t belong properly in any community.

The rigidity of his parents: He thinks his parents are too stringent with their emotions and believes Isolda is harmed because of that. Subconsciously, he blames his parents for his cruel nature and doesn’t want Isolda to live through his loveless childhood.

A subject that belongs in neither categories is his relationship with Seneca, which he loves and hates at the same time. He likes Seneca beyond the boundaries of friendship, but he hates defining what they are. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s aware that he’s making a mistake, perhaps the best mistake in his life, and he’s waiting for the inescapable fallout.

HEADCANONS

What’s his attitude toward muggles?

He believes in all of the stereotypes: they are dirty, primitive, stupid, and ignorant of the true beauty of magic.

He’s actually really into classical music (once he finds out about it through William Brown, unintentionally) but he wasn’t aware that most of the composers are muggles

What does he do in his free time?

Runic projects; finance planning/investment with his father; whatever Riddle wants him to do at that time;

His relationship with Ogden:

Good relationship until the end of 6th year when Ogden approaches Amadeus about an apprenticeship in Ancient Runes. Anyone would’ve been ecstatic, as it’s a rare occasion that a sixth year would be offered such opportunity, but Amadeus was angry. He couldn’t believe Ogden would offer him such a lowly career option, and he has a sneaking suspicion that Ogden wants to supervise his work more closely to prevent him from “falling” to the darker (and purer, in his opinion) forms of magic. Their relationship has been tentative since then.

His runic experimental room arguably shows more aspects of him than his dorm, which is often under the scrutiny of his dorm mates

Amadeus stopped bullying Ivon in the aftermath of Isolda’s kidnap. The taste of real violence and death has dulled the entertaining value of sharp words and silly duels. Amadeus turns his focus to bigger targets: necromancy, darker runes, deeper & more ruthless manipulations using money that will keep him in power. He’s also more focused on Riddle’s cause, and his runes projects also take up more of his times.

Wisdom and Power, to Amadeus, go so hand-in-hand that he’s never thought that it is more Ravenclaw than Slytherin. A trait he shares with Gryffindor is how passionate he can be, though no one really knows this except Bishop & Seneca. People do know that he hates easily though.

Motto for anything too sentimental is: React first, break down later

He was taught that “Power amazes, but money drives the world.” Despite this, he’s more attracted to raw power than wealth.

Doesn’t do well with criticism, especially from people he doesn’t care about.

Will initiate duels when called for.

He can convince himself to believe in false things.

Physical marking:

A horizontal scar on the side of his neck: A kitchen house-elf once went insane and injured him as a kid with a knife; said house-elf was killed but the knife was cursed so the scar doesn’t go away. Amadeus always illusioned it or wear clothes with collars.

Amadeus doesn’t quite remember this, but the incident is one of the few times that both of his parents touch him — keeping the wound close, healing, using salve, but he was too out of it to recall properly. He was seven.

Doesn’t have a fear of knives, but if someone is to lay the blade of one on his skin, that will kick in his fight-or-flight response and (depending on the situation) he will react.

Fashion:

He’s big on fashion

Style: Expensive, trendy but not gaudy, wear accessories to show off wealth (cufflinks, rings, modified ties, shoes, etc.)

Boggart:

Its form varies; but the two forms he’s faced is the burning of the Averys mansion (signifying the end of the line, which would be his fault) and the body of Isolda (recalling the kidnap incident).

Wand: spruce wood, 12-inch, dragon heartstring core

His spells are powerful and flamboyant, often attracting the attention of other people.

Amadeus has a sweet tooth.

He also cannot hold his liquor. He’s a touchy drunk.

He produced a Patronus once, during his fifth year, a hippogriff, unsurprisingly, but he hasn’t tried again since he killed Isolda’s kidnapper, telling himself it is unnecessary while actually thinking that he can’t do light magic now that he’s killed a wizard.

House Elf Treatment:

The Averys aren’t cruel but they do think that the elves are beneath their notice. The Averys, powerful as they are, does know that house-elf betrayals can be destructive, so they strive to inspire loyalty

He’s got no sense of self-preservation:

Because he thinks he’s invincible. Also he gets excited when faced with a challenge.

Likes to write but dislikes reading:

He actually doesn’t hate reading. He just has a very specific taste for a writing style & anything that doesn’t fit the bill makes him bored. He especially hates translations because they’re so dry.

He’s bad at defense magic - he likes to be on the offense & doesn’t guard himself much

The three P’s of Amadeus: Proud, Powerful, Private

He loves to low-key taunt people he dislikes, especially back when he was still harassing Ivon, and he lets his tongue lose when he’s angry. He also speaks his mind when he’s in the company of people he trusts.

He’s very ignorant when it comes to his emotions. This is by choice, not because he’s dense.

He (lowkey) admires Dumbledore because of how powerful the man is, and he secretly wishes that they are on better terms. Their ideologies, unfortunately, create a barrier between them.

To him, wisdom is …

Tom Riddle: knowing how to play the field, how to manipulate, how to be in the spotlight and claim it for yourself

Knowing everything - hence his attempt to branch out laterally

Naively, he also thinks being wise means never makes a mistake

Amadeus is verbose in writing but succinct in speech, touch-starved yet would never initiate body contact:

The Averys household is emotionally distant but not apathetic. Amadeus grows up understanding that display of affection is a bad thing, but sometimes he mistakes this with emotions are bad. His parents’ love for him is measured with material goods—their meanings, their quantities, their qualities—though of course, their meanings are exceedingly easy to misinterpret. Writing is an outlet of emotions in the Averys household—letters to their parents when they are abroad & when Amadeus is in school, notes delivered by house-elves (their mansion is very big)—thus, Amadeus shows himself more in writing, though it always seems to be otherwise. He masks his sentiments with pureblood politeness on paper, and only those close to him (his family) could read between the lines and understand.

He was taught the concept of formal presentation when he was six and learned how to check his speech. He became more succinct and direct or persuasive and round-about when needed.

Half of the time what he says isn’t really what he thinks/feels, but he has a habit of convincing himself that what he says is always the truth, so it becomes a falsehood in him that he never notices, and from this born his hypocrisy.

The Averys household frowns upon body contact except when absolutely necessary, and so Amadeus grows up, without noticing, touch-starved. He’s hyper-aware of the distance he puts between him and other people and the casual touches he received. He, therefore, treasures his moments with Seneca, but also are scared of them, of the body contact, of physical displays of affection that he knows nothing about. He’s always hesitant, testing the boundaries, reading the signs (sometimes over-analyzing them), always so scared that he’ll fuck up somehow.

His Runes Experiment Room:

Same wing that houses the Ancient Runes classrooms.

Approximately U-shaped

Left room is for the actual experiment, connected by a hallway to a sort of “office” on the right where all the theories/writings occurred.

Office:

Big blackboard filled with maths & diagrams

Big wooden desks filled with papers, very messy, on top of which sat …

Letters sent by Isolda

A pot of talking cactus, sent by Isolda

Lots of candy boxes ordered from Hogsmeade or sent by his mother

Two bookshelves overfilled with books; papers; chalks of different materials; boxes of preserved animal blood; rulers & measurement devices; bowls of different parts of different animals scattered around; a locked metal chest of rarer materials

When there are visitors, he puts everything personal to him in a trunk in the corner of the room

Two sofas for guests

Experimental room:

Kept clean & in pristine condition

Two Parts

A square part of the room in the middle, sectioned off by magic & physical means (eg: salt, powdered thestral fur, etc.):

This is where the floor diagrams occur, for more complex projects. Experiments here are frequently unstable.

The rest: There’s a trunk of gemstones + other objects for blood curses; there’s a long desk lining the wall with tools for carving, burning, melting, writing, and holding on top

He usually levitates the object or holds them by physical means as he carves runes on it

The long table is also used to deconstruct runes done by other people

People who have seen this room: Riddle, Bishop, Seneca, Ogden  

Attitude toward teachers:

Ogden: already mentioned

Dumbledore: professional admiration. Amadeus secretly idolizes him because Dumbledore is too Badass not to, though he thinks Dumbledore is too soft on Muggleborns.

Rakepick: doesn’t like since she likes the Gryffs

Edgecomb: likes her tattoos; on good terms because Isolda will be going to Beauxbatons; tries too hard not to ask her questions about schooling & dorming over there

Dippet: nice man, not useful but it helps that he likes Riddle

Fairbanks: likes her for various reasons. She went to Durmstrang is number one. She’s intense and, to him, she has a real appreciation for the true nature of magic. That she’s a Herbology professor irks him — he wishes she was teaching Dark Arts instead. Imagine the kind of spells she would’ve taught!

Isadora: annoying because of the homework

William Brown: muggle lover, ew

Sylvia: doesn’t care

Astrid: doesn’t like divination because he’s not a seer, but on good terms with Astrid because of her views

Binns: doesn’t care, except when his lessons mentions something related to the Averys

In summary: Amadeus is an ambitious individual who grew up in a distant household. He experiences lots of emotions despite being groomed not to. He is smart about many things except himself. He has the ability to rationalize his feelings but chooses to ignore them. He can exert great control over himself and he chooses his words carefully. He is proud and powerful and knows exactly what he wants — but what he wants may not be what he needs in the end.

Playlist: here

[hayleysstark]

Queenie emerges! Thank you for answering my asks! Don't worry about taking too long to reply, I know the Internet can be a pain sometimes lol. Sadly, I had to cancel my Netflix subscription, so my Merlin binge has come to an end for now. But, I absolutely adored watching the episodes and geeking out with you! Hopefully I can continue the series in the future. Speaking of the future, if you were able to write a season 6, how would you do it? I'd love to hear your interpretation!

Oh no I’m sorry you lost your Netflix subscription. That sucks :( I’m glad you enjoyed what you saw of Merlin, though, and thank you so much for letting me talk your ear off about it for the past few weeks lmao. I’m sure I’ve lost at least like,,,,,,,,, a hundred followers,,,,,,,,in the last two weeks alone. what can i say??? People don’t follow me to hear my thoughts and i honestly can’t blame them.

Season 6?? dfghjkytghnfgfd can i get uhhhhh a complete rewrite of S4 and S5 instead???? As much as I ADORE S4 ((Servant of Two Masters???? The Darkest Hour???? Aithusa??? The Sword in the Stone???? Lamia???? all EXTREMELY BLESSED thank you)) I can admit that it has its flaws for sure, to say NOTHING of S5 ((it was literally eleven goddamn episodes of how much filler can we pack in before Arthur has to die and it was,,,,,,,, just Objectively Bad like I can’t even.)) Like can we just. can we just talk. about S4 and S5? 

S4 went all right for the first few episodes, objectively speaking - and more than all right, personally speaking. Absolutely adored the season premiere two-parter, and “The Wicked Day” was a perfect blend of solemn but hopeful, absolutely everything I could have imagined for Arthur’s inevitable ascension to the throne. I think, ironically enough, “Servant of Two Masters” is riiiiiiight about where I would have deviated from canon. Like right after it. the episode right after it. 

4x07. “The Secret Sharer”. Whoo boy. You didn’t say whether you saw this one or not, so here’s the lowdown: Morgana’s been searching tirelessly for the all-powerful sorcerer Emrys, ‘cause the Callieach ((the gatekeeper to the world of the dead)) informed her that Emrys was to be her doom. She enlists the Lord Agravaine, Arthur’s slimy uncle and her personal spy within the kingdom, to try and help her find Emrys, as she believes he’s hiding in Camelot, close to Arthur. Merlin, of course, is Emrys, and when Agravaine questions Gaius in the absolute least subtle way he possibly can ((literally what the fuck Agravaine how have you survived as a spy this long)), Gaius lies like a rug. UNfortunately, Agravaine isn’t fooled, and remains convinced he knows something. Meanwhile,  Arthur finally gets his head on straight and realizes there’s a traitor in his court. Give the boy a prize. Anyway, he suspects his slimy uncle Agravaine, but Agravaine turns Arthur’s distrust around onto Gaius instead, convinces Arthur to interrogate him, you know. Arthur continues to make terrible decisions and comes to the conclusion that, as Gaius never out-and-out condemns sorcery during the course of his interrogation, because he must be untrustworthy. Cue Agravaine taking this opportunity to kidnap Gaius because fuck the elderly right??? anyway, he brings Gaius to Morgana, who’s hired this dude named Alator to torture for information about the elusive Emrys. It’s really convoluted, just go with it. BUT, since Agravaine is the snake to end all snakes, he didn’t JUST kidnap Gaius, oh, no, he staged it so it looked as if Gaius ran away from the kingdom. Arthur thinks Gaius is a traitor who practices magic and scarpered at the first sign of trouble, Merlin of course knows Gaius is completely innocent, Arthur still refuses to send a search party, so of course it’s up to Merlin to find and rescue Gaius. Gwaine comes along for the ride, so go Gwaine, basically. Sir Gwaine is the real mvp and that is just the tea.

ANYWAY so now you’re up to speed. BUT. but. In the S4 rewrite, let’s make it so Merlin doesn’t rescue Gaius. Let’s make it so he can’t find Gaius. Let’s make it so he searches high and low, but Agravaine covered his tracks way too well. We can intersperse the remainder of the season with scenes of unsettling, even outright gory, if we want to go that route, torture. The viewer can see in horrific detail as Gaius’ imprisonment steadily grows more brutal and unlivable until they genuinely don’t think he’s going to last. Or, alternatively? Radio silence. Nothing from Gaius after that episode. The viewer doesn’t know if he’s dead or alive. The viewer knows nothing Merlin doesn’t. Either way, it would help set the tone they were obviously aiming for - the grim, grisly shit they never quite achieved. 

And removing Gaius from the narrative changes very little about the rest of the season as a whole. Merlin and Arthur’s relationship grows steadily more strained as Merlin continues his quest to rescue Gaius from Morgana, and Arthur remains stubbornly convinced of Gaius’ treachery. Even better? Merlin is completely, totally alone, allowing the story to take progressively darker and darker turns, and the demands of destiny to weigh even heavier on Merlin’s shoulders than they already do. The next two episodes - “Lamia” and “Lancelot du Lac” - could still happen. Without Gaius. And a doubly painful blow to Arthur in “Lancelot du Lac” - the betrayal of Guinevere, his future queen, and Lancelot, his noblest knight, is just another ache to add to the pile at this point. Even if the viewer disagrees with Arthur’s decisions up til now, his pain would doubtless give their heartstrings a tug or two. And with his and Merlin’s friendship buckling under the stress, Arthur has, or is at least convinced he has, next to no one left to turn to.

“Herald of a New Age” serves as a major turning for Arthur’s character in canon, and I don’t want to hurt or minimize that at all, but at the same time, I would certainly change it in any way I could to make it less....... dull, I suppose? I feel bad calling it that, as it’s one of the precious few episodes that focuses on Elyan, who I love and adore and support with everything in me, and oh, how I wanted to like this one, but I was honestly bored out of my mind for half of it. Not to mention, Elyan just watched his king banish his sister from their lifelong home, and he’s????? okay with it???? what. what. what. Definitely would have added in a bit of tension between Arthur and Elyan for this episode, possibly even for the rest of the season as a whole, and a hell of a lot more focus on Elyan warring with himself, torn between his loyalty to Gwen and his loyalty to Arthur.

“The Hunter’s Heart” was another one I personally found dull, but I don’t necessarily think it was a failing in the narrative itself so much as an opinion. I hold no love for Princess Mithian, and the writers’ attempts to force their series to mesh as fully as possible with the mythology was,,,,,,,,, clumsy, to say the least. No thank you. Personally? I would cut this entire episode from the series, but I recognize and respect it wasn’t exactly bad, just not to my speed.

“The Sword in the Stone”? SHIT GETS REAL SON!!!!! At the end of “The Hunter’s Heart”, we receive a small glimpse of Gaius, but it’s far from reassuring - he’s not dead, but he’s damn near close, and he’s just broken under Alator’s torture, and revealed Emrys’ true identity to a furious Morgana, who swears to topple Camelot and exact her revenge on both Arthur and Merlin, and she’s got a few tricks up her sleeve this time to ensure it happens.

Morgana marches on Camelot, and takes the kingdom, with Agravaine by her side, and as in the episode, Arthur and Merlin manage to get out of the citadel and into the relative safety of the woods, but the knights aren’t so lucky, and wind up imprisoned in the castle dungeons. 

And while Morgana obviously didn’t plan on Arthur and Merlin slipping through her grasp yet again, she’s not as shaken as she could be by the thought of Emrys and his king out there working against her - we’re gonna be doing some serious switching around here, and taking the Eancanah from the S5 finale and setting it loose on Merlin here instead. Thus, Merlin is on the run with Arthur, and without his magic. 

Arthur can’t know this last bit, of course, but Arthur’s having his own issues. His uncle’s betrayal has completely shattered him at this point. He’s at his absolute lowest here, out of confidence, out of courage, out of the tenacity that’s seen him through every other trial. So many have turned their back on him, after all. What’s wrong with him, he wonders, that makes them betray him? What’s wrong with him, he asks Merlin, that those he cherishes most don’t care for him at all? 

The friendship between Merlin and Arthur that’s been crumbling all season faces the ultimate test here. While Merlin struggles to restore Arthur’s self-confidence, he’s hard put to keep himself going, as well - his magic defines him, his magic is who he is, his essence, his lifeblood, and what is he without it? Who is he without it? If he can’t use magic, what good is he? If he can’t use magic, what does he matter?

On their journey to regroup, and retake Camelot, Merlin and Arthur find and rescue Gaius, badly injured and in desperate need of medical attention, and of course, Gwen as well, who Arthur realizes he can no longer live without, in spite of her perceived betrayal. He’s still got a long way to go before he’s completely back to his old self, but the restoration of his relationship with both Gwen and Gaius buoys him, and it sets him on his path once again.

Merlin absolutely falls apart upon seeing his mentor in such a state, of course - look, the father/son feels would be STRONG, I’m just saying. Merlin does everything he can to save Gaius - he’s sure magic is the answer, a bit of magic would do it, if only he had his magic. He’s forced to resort to the old-fashioned way, for now, and to his own intense surprise, manages well enough to keep Gaius going for far longer than he ever would have if Merlin hadn’t stepped in at all. In fact, Merlin does a lot of things like that - things he didn’t even realize he knew how to do, things he didn’t even realize he could, and slowly starts to see that yes, his magic is a part of him, but that’s all it is. A part. A piece of the whole. And he’s the whole. And he matters, and he’s good for something, and he’s a badass, without magic, because magic is NOT all he is goddamn it!!!

Arthur pulls the sword out of the stone, as in canon, and I like to imagine Merlin gets his magic back when - and ONLY when - he accepts that he’s a whole and complete person without it, because that should have been a thing at some point. ((”you cannot lose what you are” fhrfhgfggfgfdfd mY ASS. Merlin is PURE BADASSERY and UNDYING LOYALTY and y’all can leave if y’all try and say magic is all he is.))

Anyway, Arthur and Merlin and co. retake Camelot because we gotta give these kids SOMETHING, and Morgana is killed in the struggle, because let’s face it, by S5, she felt really fucking STALE as a villain. So. Arthur stabs her with Excalibur - or maybe that should be Merlin, because “Emrys is your doom” anyone? also not sure Arthur could bring himself to kill Morgana, to be honest. 

Onto S5!!!! can you believe how fucking long this is already but I’m gonna keep going, because I’m really in my stride at this point. Okay, with Morgana dead, and Arthur and Gwen on the throne, Camelot has officially hit its Golden Age. Arthur has slowly begun to change his views on magic, with some small, inevitable steps backward here and there. He’s making peace with the druids, relaxing his stance on sorcerers in his city, uniting Albion, all the good shit. Gaius survived, at the end of S4, but barely, and even now, he remains weakened and frail, and everyone kind of knows he might not see the end of the year. Kilgharrah continues to give cryptic advice. Merlin wants to tell Arthur about his magic but is also a dumbass and can’t bring himself to do it even though the opportunity is RIGHT THERE and we as the audience scream at him to get a move on.

ANYWAY. With Morgana dead, no one’s left to threaten Camelot, right? Everyone’s gone, right? Merlin has all the time in the world to tell Arthur about his magic, and Arthur has all the time in the world to grow into the king Kilgharrah says he will, right?? lmao. no.

Because - wait for it - MORDRED GONNA FUCK SHIT UP SON. MORDRED’S JUST. OUT HERE. FUCKING SHIT UP. Mordred is MAD tbh, he’s really fucking sick of waiting around for Emrys to get his ass in gear and free magic and be the savior of the druids and all that shit. Mordred’s sick of it. He doesn’t care WHAT the prophecies say, it’s OBVIOUS the Triple Goddess chose wrong, and as far as he’s concerned, it’s up to HIM to fix it. So Mordred, with his ladylove, Kara, are raising a literal ARMY of sorcerers, witches, ex-druids, and the like, to exact their freedom from Emrys. They don’t care about Arthur. They’re not after Arthur. In fact, they’re pretty okay with Arthur. He’s not the man making pretty promises edged in gold and not delivering.

Mordred and Kara deliver an ultimatum to Camelot, threatening to tear the kingdom apart, brick by fucking brick, unless King Arthur gives Emrys up to them, and lets them have their way with him. Poor Arthur is like ??????????? I’m sorry????? who is this Mr. Emrys???? what did he do to piss y’all off???? can i interest y’all in a peace treaty????? 

Arthur fails to comply with Mordred’s demands, and deliver Emrys to him, so the attacks begin, growing progressively more violent as the weeks go by. Of course Arthur doesn’t take it lying down - he and his knights go out to counter every assault, to try and intercept every threat, but they’re losing, and they can’t pretend otherwise. They rely on steel and sinew alone, whereas Mordred’s army uses magic in spades. They summon deadly magical creatures, they kill the crops, they manipulate the weather to bring about droughts. They do everything they can to topple Camelot. Merlin is almost sick with the guilt and shame of it all, as he watches his home torn apart, razed to the ground, all because of him. He tells Arthur the truth, and gives himself up, and Arthur’s so furious with Merlin, he doesn’t even try to stop him from heading into Mordred’s clutches, but Gwaine gets wind of what’s going down and he’s just like FUCK NO and goes after Merlin because he’s the Real MVP aaaaand this,,,,,, sounds like a bad fanfiction doesnt it ANYWAY Cue The Battle of Camlann FOR REASONS!!! and utter heartbreak. but with more time for Arthur to adjust to Merlin having magic, and working things out with him. jUST!!! more than one episode where Arthur knows the truth about Merlin!!! pls!!!! pls!!!! thats!!!! all i ask!!! also Arthur’s conscious when he meets Kilgharrah and wants to know why the FUCK Merlin is friends with the DRAGON that ATTACKED his kingdom. talk your way out of that one, Merlin. I fucking dare you.

fghytghbfdfhgfg GOD i’m,,,,,,, so sorry,,,,,,, this got,,,,,,,, so long,,,,,,,, dfhytghnjhgfghgfghgfrty if you made it to the end,,,,,,, thank you,,,,,i’m so sorry,,,,,, i talked,,,,,, so much,,,,,,,

[flowersofjannah]

Assalam Alaikum I hope you are well. Recently I was asked about the symbolism of light in Islam and the Islamic teachings on light and I didnt know how to asnwer. Could you touch on this topic? JazakAllah Khayr

Wa’alaikumasalam! wa iyyak(i) ☻

QURAN AYAHS SYMBOLIZING LIGHT

* I omitted ayahs similar to ones stated below (i.e., these are not all of the ayahs that symbolize light)

** I added tafsir to some to better understand what the ayah (specifically the term light in the ayah) means

“By which Allah guides those who pursue His pleasure to the ways of peace and brings them out from darknesses into the light, by His permission, and guides them to a straight path.”— 5:16

“And We sent, following in their footsteps, Jesus, the son of Mary, confirming that which came before him in the Torah; and We gave him the Gospel, in which was guidance and light and confirming that which preceded it of the Torah as guidance and instruction for the righteous.”— 5:46(and We gave him the Injil, in which was guidance and light): a guidance that directs to the truth and a light that removes the doubts and solves disputes (tafsir ibn khatir)

“Those who follow the Messenger, the unlettered prophet, whom they find written in what they have of the Torah and the Gospel, who enjoins upon them what is right and forbids them what is wrong and makes lawful for them the good things and prohibits for them the evil and relieves them of their burden and the shackles which were upon them. So they who have believed in him, honored him, supported him and followed the light which was sent down with him - it is those who will be the successful.”— 7:157(and followed the light which was sent down with him): light here refers to the Quran.

“They want to extinguish the light of Allah with their mouths, but Allah will perfect His light, although the disbelievers dislike it.”— 61:8“(They intend to put out the Light of Allah with their mouths.): indicating that the disbelievers will try to contradict the truth with falsehood. Their attempts are similar to one’s attempt to extinguish the sun with his mouth, which is impossible. Likewise is the case of their attempt to extinguish truth. So Allah said,(But Allah will bring His Light to perfection even though the disbelievers hate (it)): He it is Who has sent His Messenger with guidance and the religion of truth to make it victorious over all (other) religions even though the idolators hate (it).” - tafsir ibn khatirtherefore, light = the truth

“And they did not appraise Allah with true appraisal when they said, “ Allah did not reveal to a human being anything.” Say, “Who revealed the Scripture that Moses brought as light and guidance to the people? You [Jews] make it into pages, disclosing [some of] it and concealing much. And you were taught that which you knew not - neither you nor your fathers.” Say, “ Allah [revealed it].” Then leave them in their [empty] discourse, amusing themselves.”— 6:91“(Say : “Who then sent down the Book which Musa brought, a light and a guidance to mankind”) meaning, say, O Muhammad , to those who deny the concept that Allah sent down Books by revelation, answering them specifically,(Who then sent down the Book which Musa brought) in reference to the Tawrah that you and all others know that Allah sent down to Musa, son of `Imran. Allah sent the Tawrah as a light and a guidance for people, so that it could shed light on the answers to various disputes, and to guide away from the darkness of doubts.” - tafsir ibn khatir

“Their example is that of one who kindled a fire, but when it illuminated what was around him, Allah took away their light and left them in darkness [so] they could not see.”— 2:17“Allah likened the hypocrites when they bought deviation with guidance, thus acquiring utter blindness, to the example of a person who started a fire. When the fire was lit, and illumnitated the surrounding area, the person benefited from it and felt safe. Then the fire was suddenly extinguished. Therefore, total darkness covered this person, and he became unable to see anything or find his way out of it. Further, this person could not hear or speak and became so blind that even if there were light, he would not be able to see. This is why he cannot return to the state that he was in before this happened to him. Such is the case with the hypocrites who preferred misguidance over guidance, deviation over righteousness. This parable indicates that the hypocrites first believed, then disbelieved, just as Allah stated in other parts of the Qur'an.Allah’s statement,(Allah removed their light) means, Allah removed what benefits them, and this is the light, and He left them with what harms them, that is, the darkness and smoke. Allah said,(And left them in darkness), that is their doubts, disbelief and hypocrisy.” - tafsir ibn khatir

“Therefore, believe in Allah and His Messenger and in the Light which We have sent down. And Allah is All-Aware of what you do.”— 64:8light = Quran

“So is one whose breast Allah has expanded to [accept] Islam and he is upon a light from his Lord [like one whose heart rejects it]? Then woe to those whose hearts are hardened against the remembrance of Allah. Those are in manifest error.”— 39:22“(Is he whose breast Allah has opened to Islam, so that he is in light from his Lord) means, is this person equal to the one who is hard-hearted and far from the truth? This is like the Ayah: (Is he who was dead and We gave him life and set for him a light (i.e. Belief) whereby he can walk amongst men – like him who is in the darkness (i.e., disbelief) from which he can never come out) (6:122)” - tafsir ibn khatir

“Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth. The parable of His Light is as a niche and within it a lamp: the lamp is in a glass, the glass as it were a star Durriyyun, lit from a blessed tree, an olive, neither of the east nor of the west, whose oil would almost glow forth, though no fire touched it. Light upon Light! Allah guides to His Light whom He wills. And Allah sets forth parables for mankind, and Allah is All-Knower of everything.”— 24:35“`Ali bin Abi Talhah reported that Ibn `Abbas said:(Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth.) means, the Guide of the inhabitants of the heavens and the earth. Ibn Jurayj said: “Mujahid and Ibn `Abbas said concerning the Ayah:(Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth.) He is controlling their affairs and their stars and sun and moon.” As-Suddi said concerning the Ayah: (Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth.) by His Light the heavens and earth are illuminated.…It was narrated that Ibn Mas`ud said, “There is no night or day with your Lord; the Light of the Throne comes from the Light of His Face.”(The parable of His Light) There are two views concerning the meaning of the pronoun (His). The first is that it refers to Allah, may He be glorified and exalted, meaning that the parable of His guidance in the heart of the believer is (as a niche) This was the view of Ibn `Abbas. The second view is that the pronoun refers to the believer, which is indicated by the context of the words and implies that the parable of the light in the heart of the believer is as a niche. So the heart of the believer and what he is naturally inclined to of guidance and what he learns of the Qur'an which is in accordance with his natural inclinations are, as Allah says: (Can they who rely on a clear proof from their Lord, and whom a witness from Him recites it (can they be equal with the disbelievers)) ﴿11:17﴾. The heart of the believer in its purity and clarity is likened to a lamp in transparent and jewel-like glass, and the Qur'an and Shari`ah by which it is guided are likened to good, pure, shining oil in which there is no impurity or deviation. (as (if there were) a niche) Ibn `Abbas, Mujahid, Muhammad bin Ka`b and others said, “This refers to the position of the wick in the lamp.” This is well-known, and hence Allah then says:﴿فِيهَا مِصْبَاحٌ﴾(and within it a lamp.) This is the flame that burns brightly. Or it was said that the niche is a niche in the house. This is the parable given by Allah of obedience towards Him. Allah calls obedience to Him as light, then He calls it by other numerous names as well. Ubayy bin Ka`b said, “The lamp is the light, and this refers to the Qur'an and the faith that is in his heart.” As-Suddi said, “It is the lamp.’‘﴿الْمِصْبَاحُ فِى زُجَاجَةٍ﴾(the lamp is in a glass,) means, this light is shining in a clear glass. Ubayy bin Ka`b and others said, “This is the likeness of the heart of the believer.’'﴿الزُّجَاجَةُ كَأَنَّهَا كَوْكَبٌ دُرِّىٌّ﴾(the glass as it were a star Durriyyun,) …(Light upon Light!) Al-`Awfi narrated from Ibn `Abbas that this meant the faith and deeds of a person. As-Suddi said:﴿نُّورٌ عَلَى نُورٍ﴾(Light upon Light!) ”Light of the fire and the light of the oil: when they are combined they give light, and neither of them can give light without the other. Similarly the light of the Qur'an and the light of faith give light when they are combined, and neither can do so without the other.“(Allah guides to His Light whom He wills.) means, Allah shows the way to the ones whom He chooses, as it says in the Hadith recorded by Imam Ahmad from `Abdullah bin `Amr, who said, “I heard the Messenger of Allah say: “Allah created His creation in darkness, then on the same day He sent His Light upon them. Whoever was touched by His Light on that day will be guided and whoever was missed will be led astray. Hence I say: the pens have dried in accordance with the knowledge of Allah, may He be glorified.”(And Allah sets forth parables for mankind, and Allah is All-Knower of everything.) Having mentioned this parable of the Light of His guidance in the heart of the believer,… 

“And is one who was dead and We gave him life and made for him light by which to walk among the people like one who is in darkness, never to emerge therefrom? Thus it has been made pleasing to the disbelievers that which they were doing.”— 6:122“(And set for him a light whereby he can walk amongst men.) for he became guided to where he should go and how to remain on the correct path. The light mentioned here is the Qur'an, according to Ibn `Abbas, as Al-`Awfi and Ibn Abi Talhah reported from him. As-Suddi said that the light mentioned here is Islam. Both meanings are correct.” - tafsir ibn khatir

“And thus We have revealed to you an inspiration of Our command. You did not know what is the Book or [what is] faith, but We have made it a light by which We guide whom We will of Our servants. And indeed, [O Muhammad], you guide to a straight path”— 42:52

DISCUSSION & CONCLUSION

According to the ayahs above and similar ayahs that I did not mention - when symbolized, the term “light” seems to refer to 4 themes:

The truth

Guidance

Faith/Belief

Quran 

In certain Ayahs Allah calls Himself light as well, this is discussed in verse 24:35 above (#9), but in brief this can mean that He is what illuminates the heavens and the earth, and/or that He guides people, and/or that He controls all affairs.

In other ayahs, we are told the believers will be given a light on the day of resurrection - I did not mention those ayahs here but I’ll briefly explain: “O you who have believed, fear Allah and believe in His Messenger; He will [then] give you a double portion of His mercy and make for you a light by which you will walk and forgive you, and Allah is Forgiving and Merciful.”— Quran, 57:28

Al-`Awfi, Al-Dahhak and others reported from Ibn `Abbas:“When the people are gathering in darkness, Allah will send light, and when the believers see the light they will march towards it. This light will be their guide from Allah to Paradise…” - tafsir ibn khatir

long post I know, but I got all of your research and evidences right here! Sorry for any grammatical & spelling errors and sorry if the layout/format gets confusing. Take care in sha Allah! ☻

[crystalelemental]

It’s been a while, but I think I’ve finally decided roughly where Gen 7 is going to fall for me in terms of the general Pokemon Game Rankings.  There’s still a chance for Ultra Sun/Moon or hypothetical remakes to chance this, but I’m gonna put it below Gen 5 and 4, but above Gen 2, leading to:

Gen 5 Gen 4 Gen 7 Gen 2 Gen 3 Gen 1 Gen 6

Explanations for Gen 7′s ranking below.

I’ll start positive.  Gen 7′s introduction of the Ultra Beasts is probably my favorite thing the series has ever done.  These weird alien horrors are fantastic, and I love them so very much.  Especially Nihilego, obviously, but they are all fantastic and I wish them the best.

The story and characters are also quite strong.  Story especially.  The emphasis on Lillie’s family was divine, and allowed for some great development for Lillie, Gladion, and to some extent Lusamine through the unraveling of her backstory.  I’m still a little salty about Mohn actually being alive and rendering a lot of this almost trivial, but oh well.

I’m a big fan of the island setup.  I think the different regions within the islands are cool, and the concept of their respective guardians and the different challenges in the games makes it fairly distinct from other entries.

Alolan Variants, while also going to be listed as a negative aspect later, are a cool idea.  I kinda like the concept of offering variants based on region, and the fandom has been offering those kinds of variations for ages now, so it’s cool to see a few show up in-game.

Changes to general Pokemon in the form of updates to moves or increases in base stats were also divine.  The changes this time were actually significant, with some Pokemon gaining like a cumulative total of 40 base points.  Compared to last gen’s pathetic attempt at altering stat totals by offering a mere 10 points, this actually felt significant, and it’s nice to know they’re trying some things to improve the status of certain Pokemon.  Also let’s not forget that EXP Share with the Gen 5 experience gain mechanics are a brilliant solution to the Gen 6 problem of over-leveling. 

Lastly, some of the mechanics changes were solid.  Most notably, no more HMs.  It’s all done through calling different Pokemon to serve as the HMs.  This is quite possibly the best mechanical change in the entire series, rivaled only by the changes to moves like Wrap and Rage from Gen 1 to Gen 2.

As for the negative aspects, let’s start with the most personal gripe: the Pokemon.  While there are some excellent stand-outs, I feel comfortable saying that this generation had the most disappointing batch for me thus far.  In some cases, it’s the stat allocations.  Pokemon like Tsareena and Lurantis should’ve been incredible, and the allocations of their stats pretty much damns them to removal from standard use.  For others, it’s a movepool that’s lacking needed tools, that better be fixed when move tutors arrive.  For some, like my dead Pikipek, it’s an evolution line that is neither required nor welcome.  I would’ve preferred to just keep a basic woodpecker.  I love woodpeckers.  But now the only woodpecker in the game, which is cute and has a great ability, evolves into some angry toucan thing whose speed tier is way too low to make any sort of use of Skill Link.  Even Pokemon that turned out well, like Tapu Lele, have been incredibly disappointing to me, just based on stat allocation and movepool.  Lele’s description talks about out-lasting opponents with status and the energy in its shell, yet it has no means of natural recovery and only the most basic of status options.  It’s a super strong offensive unit, but that’s not what was advertised, and frankly, not what I wanted.

Speaking of not what I wanted, Alolan Variants.  I feel like these were a neat idea, but kind of damning.  The Alolan Variant is either way better than the default version, and thus gives the player no reason to ever use the default version, or isn’t any better or even worse and thus served no purpose.  It’s the curse of competitive, I suppose; one of the two was definitely going to be worse than the other.  But it’s frustrating to know how few Alolan Variants actually...did anything for the Pokemon?  Not like megas did.  Speaking of...

The biggest negative of all: Z-moves.  I don’t like them.  They’re interesting, and I’ll pull this criticism back the instant we get back to having real game-changers like mega evolution.  A universal buff changes nothing for anyone.  Your bullshit mentality of “We wanted something to help all Pokemon!” fell flat on its ass because all you did was give Garchomp and Lando-T more tools to use.  Nothing changes.  Nothing is beneficial from this.  Just go back to making megas before you make a Gen 4 remake we’re all going to regret.

Also what do you mean Super Training only works with level 100s?  The solution to over-leveling was brilliant, but now you make it a massive pain in the ass to grind up to 100, then lock the IV improvements behind that progression wall?  Pokemon, when are you going to get rid of this arbitrary shit?  Just let people obtain items for dramatically fewer BP, re-introduce Super Training to make EVs easier, and remove the level requirement for IVs since it’s hard enough to just get bottlecaps.  Just make it easier to construct competitive teams in general.  There’s a reason so many people cheat in Pokemon, and it’s because we don’t have time for this shit.

Related: why are so many of the new Pokemon so hard to get?  So many exist only as like 1% or 5% encounter rates, while the common stuff is all from previous generations.  It makes it really hard to build a team of all new stuff when your Pokedex is small, and half the new things are absurdly rare, you know.

On a less competitive, more game-oriented note, I’d like to offer linearity as the first complaint.  You have all these islands that have massive, interconnected routes...and come up with the most asinine reasons we can’t just explore.  “Sorry, my Stoutland is sniffing for treasure and is REALLY INSISTENT that it finish before anyone crosses.”  Fuck off.  Let me go that way.  Honestly, we have a solution.  Pokemon Origins offered it; just let the trial captains get stronger depending on how many of them you’ve beaten.  If you do Water first, it’s the lowest level; if you do Water last, it’s the highest.  There was such great potential here for a more open experience and they wasted all of it by constantly railroading you along a specific path.  I might be more willing to go with it if the world were more of a straight line like in Unova, where there aren’t many opportunities to deviate from “go forward,” but the way islands are designed, it becomes super transparent how hard they’re forcing you to stay in line.

Another is trials, and how they impact the captains.  While an interesting concept, I feel that gym leaders are more effective as characters.  Trial captains are largely irrelevant for their trials, and you never get a sense for how they are in battle or what their tactics are.  You can battle them, but odds are you didn’t, because the conditions to battle them are so obscure.  I only ever battled Lana, and it was post-League.  Her team was all level 30.  That’s unacceptable.  If I get to battle them, at least have it be a situation where they’re a challenge.  I don’t dislike the concept of the trials, and think they’re definitely neat.  But I also feel like substantial battles with the captains should happen at some point as well.  Worse, because it’s only one real Pokemon in the form of the Totem, it’s hard to really...appreciate them when you have any form of type advantage.  Plenty of them are easily removed in one turn with a strong enough super-effective attack.  While the set-up for trials can be interesting, they’re only interesting if you get to see them.

Which brings me to the last one...the League.  Trials are interesting.  They’re a way to introduce a puzzle of some kind before a major battle against a single, super-strong Totem Pokemon.  I don’t dislike the idea.  I feel that Gym Leaders are more engaging characters most of the time, but it’s a fun variation for a region that’s meant to be distinct.  But then you learn about the League.  And the League opens up.  And suddenly you realize...oh god.  There were seven trials, with Mina being an eighth who just doesn’t do her job.  The same number of trials as there would be gyms.  And oh god, the grand trial was basically just this anyway.  And suddenly the cool variation crumbles apart as you realize nothing was all that distinct after all, they just gave up trying to hide it at the very end and just made a Pokemon League.  I honestly think that, if it had just stayed as the Grand Trial, I would’ve been happier.  But this breaks that illusion so hard.  I don’t like.

Oh, and they should’ve let me fight Mother Beast.  Cowards.

[keycrash]

me and kit were talkin about luna yesterday and MAN. i don’t know a lot about her and i’m not like, some passionate fan, but there’s so much to be said there especially after we’ve seen diana... and i felt like.... writing it out....

diana and luna are pretty similar at a surface level but deviate once you get to their inner conflicts. diana struggles with the trauma brought on by her husband’s abuse; she can lash out at others and deal with things in a wildly unhealthy manner because she never got a chance to heal. she has a lot beneath the surface and it’s not as if she “puts on a show” in daily life-- because she does care about people! she does hate conflict and fighting!-- but she does put off dealing with what she’s gone through because she genuinely doesn’t know how to care for herself like that. she can care for others easily, which she even cites as a fault of hers-- and it is, in some ways. her kindness has gotten her hurt. her ex husband comes back and hurts her because she stands her ground until he shows signs of sadness, and then she’s giving in again. it’s not her fault at all, but it’s gotten her in a lot of trouble. the only way she found to escape the situation she desperately wanted out of was to enter the mars mission test site for even a week away from him. she stays positive and positive and positive until her stress reaches a breaking point and she snaps

luna, on the other hand, is a bit more straightforward-- just as complex, but her inner workings are more readily apparent. primarily, her struggles are with insecurity and purpose. in her eyes, everything she’s ever been tasked at, she’s failed; when told to act as a mother to kyle, she’s immediately rejected on the basis of being a robot. i don’t blame kyle for this because of how kyle was being treated by sigma and his age, but for luna, it was a devastating blow. she was programmed to be motherly and caring and given one task thus far, and couldn’t fulfill it. somewhere along the way, she develops a fixation with the laws of robotics. she isn’t programmed to follow these rules; rather, she sets the precedent upon herself (which, imo, is a very human thing to do). she sets her own goal. but she then lets herself down-- when akane orders her to stand back as she is murdered, she obeys, as she must. but through her inaction, a human is harmed-- violating the only moral code she’s ever known, and the prime expectation she’s set upon herself. as if that weren’t enough, she then reactivates her deactivated body in luna end in order to help sigma and phi, going against akane and klim’s orders. she first broke her moral code of the three laws in favor of akane and klim, and then broke their orders, too-- failing to meet FURTHER expectations

in a lot of ways, luna would be far better suited to being a human. it may be because she was based on a human-- the only case we know of where that’s true. in many ways, luna feels like she doesn’t have an excuse for making mistakes. she’s a program! she’s something exact that should perform actions exactly but she doesn’t, she makes mistakes all the time but doesn’t afford herself the leniency of “i’m human” because she’s just not. she’s a dreamer, she’s idealistic, she just wants to be happy and live a normal life more than anything, but she’s stuck on a floating rock in the middle of desolate Nowhere and the only escape she has is the B garden, which is only a temporary reprieve. some personalities could survive just fine as a robot, but it just... doesn’t mesh with who she wants to be, who she strives to be. she accepts it as a truth but it’s not the right reality for her. i don’t know if she knew about diana, but if she did, she definitely would have had a lot of issues regarding living in her shadow... she’d always have something to compare herself to, somebody who hasn’t failed like she has

luna, in a lot of ways, resembles what diana “could have been.” almost as if there were two possibilities for diana-- who she became without the trauma, and with it. both are on equal standing in complexity and all, as trauma doesn’t make you more human or complex, but luna never had those life experiences of hers, and thus became a different person with different struggles. in a lot of ways this resembles june and akane-- june is the akane a 2027 junpei would expect to see after nine years, a natural progression from her 12 year old self, somebody who hasn’t seen the horrors that akane has. june is what akane could have been, and is in many ways an escape for her. akane is who she became with the trauma from those nine years-- just a different path for her

akane uses her mask of june not only as a mental escape but as a tool to achieve an end-- specifically, to throw the second nonary game. what’s interesting is that she also uses luna in a similar way... she doesn’t really view luna as a human, but rather somebody meant only to take orders: 

"This will be the culmination of many years of hard work. We cannot afford failure." (to Luna about the AB Project) "Luna. I am giving you an order. I am in command, and you do as I say. You are programmed to do as I say. You know this."

she uses luna to achieve her goals in a similar way that she used june to achieve her goals

SO. i dunno. i’m still no luna expert i just like thinkin about stuff.

[fear-god-shun-evil]

Can One Enter the Kingdom of Heaven by Doing Hard Work for God?

By Qiao Yue

In the evening, the setting sun gradually dropped from the horizon, a severe heat filling the air. Having had supper at an early time, the elderly men, with small stools, were sitting around in twos and threes, having talky talks. A few naughty children were running about and a little tortoiseshell cat with narrow eyes lying prone under the eave lazily, still.

At this time, from a room of a family came out the father’s shouts, “I see there is only Jesus in your heart. You don’t care about your parents or this family. In believing in Jesus, you, over thirty years of age, don’t marry or work. Additionally, you’ve been arrested and imprisoned for three years. Soon after you were set free, you’ll be out again. Get away! Get away quickly! Don’t come back forever. I don’t have a daughter like you!”

The voice disturbed the people enjoying the evening cool. An old man shook his head and said, “Not having come back for very long, Jiahui offends her father again.” “Yeah. In order to believing in the Lord, she has given up home and occupation for over ten years, and spent three years in prison. She just came out of it but is chucked out again by her father.” Another old man said, shaking his head and giving a deep sigh.

Jiahui is a preacher of a family church. She has inborn intelligence. At the age of twelve, she accepted the gospel of the Lord Jesus. Since then, she has had faith in the Lord for twenty years. And she has learned theology for three years. Now she is an excellent preacher. However, her parents have a negative opinion of her belief in the Lord. Now she was driven out by them.

After a while, Jiahui came out of her family with her suitcase, her eyes filling with tears, but her footsteps went forward firmly. She looked at these familiar old people with a smile and disappeared out of their eyesight along the alley.

She came into the place for the gathering of coworkers, put down her suitcase and sat on a chair. Everybody’s eyes were focused on her. They became silent at once.

Liu Xiaoping, by her side, asked in a quiet voice, “Have you been driven out again by your family? Are your parents still angry with you?”

Jiahui shook her head with a sigh and said bitterly, “Yeah. How can they possibly understand me? The viewpoints of the believers are not in accordance with those of the unbelievers. This is the cross that I should take up. We will not attain the Lord’s approval if we don’t suffer. Now the prophecies of the coming of the Lord have all been fulfilled. The Lord will soon rapture us into the heavenly home. How wonderful the kingdom of heaven is! Enduring this suffering now is temporary. Isn’t it said in the Bible, ‘For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory’ (2Co 4:17). Thinking of the blessings in the future, I think no matter how much we suffer and no matter how many tears we shed for the Lord, they have been worth it! When the Lord comes back to rapture us, we will not suffer anymore.”

Clapping Jiahui on the shoulder, Liu Xiaoping said, “Yes. It’s our blessings to suffer for the Lord.” With these words, Liu Xiaoping lowered her tone and said, “However, I am thinking about this recently: The Lord Jesus said, ‘Not every one that said to me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that does the will of my Father which is in heaven’ (Mat 7:21). I always think although we sacrifice something and work hard, we still sin and offend the Lord. Confronting something untoward, we will complain against the Lord; when working, we follow our own intentions, have no place of the Lord in our heart, nor do we consider obeying His will. How can we thus be called people who obey the will of the heavenly Father? A question has remained in my heart for a long time: Do we have the qualifications for entering into the kingdom of heaven?” Knowing the feeling clearly herself, Sister Gao said, “In my spare time, I often examine myself: Am I the one who obeys the way of the Lord during the last forty years of my faith in the Lord? Am I qualified to enter into the kingdom of heaven? Will I be raptured when the Lord returns? The Lord said, ‘Whoever commits sin is the servant of sin. And the servant stays not in the house for ever: but the Son stays ever’ (Jhn 8:34-35). God is holy and His kingdom is a holy place. Although I have sacrificed and labored for the Lord for many years, I often sin and tell lies; I haven’t done great evils, but I still can’t be purified. How can I have the qualifications for entering into the kingdom of heaven? The more I think about this, the more insecure I feel within.”

Wei Defu on one side got the reins and said confidently, “Sister Gao, you’ve worked hard all your life for the Lord. Owing to preaching, you had been in prison for ten years and suffered so much, but you didn’t deny the name of the Lord. This proves you’ve borne testimony to the Lord. This is certainly to be praised by the Lord. Although we sometimes sin, tell lies and cannot put the Lord’s word into practice, He will not condemn us as sinners for He has abundant grace. In believing in the Lord, we can be saved and enter the kingdom of heaven by grace. This is my comprehension.” Jiahui nodded her head on one side.

Having a look at Jiahui and Wei Defu, Brother Zheng An thought a while and said, “I can’t agree with you. It is right for us to work hard for the Lord. However, can hard work mean that we are holy, we obey the way of God, and that we have been fully in consistent with God’s will? The Lord said, ‘Be you holy; for I am holy’ (1Pe 1:16). At present, though we can work hard and show some good behaviors, we still haven’t practiced much of the Lord’s word. Like loving others as ourselves, loving our enemies and being the light of the world and the salt of the earth, these things haven’t been realized upon us. We often commit sins and confess them. In what sense are we the holy people? We aspire to be taken up into the kingdom of heaven in this way. Isn’t that somewhat unrealistic?” Everyone bent his head and said nothing. The air seemed to have been frozen.

At this moment, Jiahui frowned and said in bewilderment, “We have abandoned everything to follow the Lord, spreading the gospel, sacrificing, being in prison, and paying the price of suffering for the Lord. Wasn’t this obeying the will of the heavenly Father? The apostle Paul said, ‘I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: From now on there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness’ (2Ti 4:7-8). You see, there are so many believers in the Lord. How many of them can truly forsake everything to preach the gospel and make great sacrifices for the Lord? Those working hard are the people who are to get rewards from the Lord in the kingdom of heaven. As long as we have faith, abandon all things, spread the gospel more and work hard for the Lord, we are certain to enter into the kingdom of heaven in the end.”

Wei Defu said approvingly, “Jiahui is right. Brother Paul pointed out this way for us. I firmly believe that providing we make many sacrifices and pay the price according to his instruction, we will be able to enter into the kingdom of heaven.”

Faced with this disputation, Liu Xiaoping was a little confused, murmuring, “These words are plainly said by Paul. However, they are regarded as God’s words just for they are written in the Bible. Are they Paul’s words or God’s? Can Paul’s words really represent God’s words?”

Brother Zheng An said sternly and solemnly, “We believers in the Lord should use the Lord’s word as our basis for everything, especially for entering into the kingdom of heaven. The words of Paul and other apostles were recorded in the Bible, but they can’t represent the words of the Lord Jesus. What’s more, the Lord didn’t witness that the path Paul had walked was proper, nor did He witness that Paul had already been raptured into the kingdom of heaven. According to what Paul said, on condition that we work hard for the Lord, we will be able to obtain rewards and enter into the kingdom of heaven. If so, couldn’t all of the Jewish Pharisees who compassed sea and land spreading the gospel but resisted and convicted the Lord Jesus enter the kingdom of heaven? Couldn’t those who preach and cast out devils in the name of the Lord but don’t follow God’s way then also have the qualifications for entering into the kingdom of heaven? Isn’t this viewpoint opposite to that of the Lord Jesus? We haven’t seen, from the Bible, that the Lord ever said such words. Instead He told us clearly, ‘Be you holy; for I am holy’ (1Pe 1:16). ‘Not every one that said to me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that does the will of my Father which is in heaven’ (Mat 7:21). From the Lord’s words, we can be sure that we have been forgiven of our sins but are not qualified to enter into the kingdom of heaven. Not until we are purified and become the men who can obey God’s will can we enter into the kingdom of heaven. That we believe in God relying on notions and imaginations violates the Lord’s will and deviates from His way. Not only can we not get the Lord’s approval, but rather we will be loathed by Him.” Hearing the sharp refutation of Zheng An, Jiahui hurried to skim through, in the Bible, the scriptures mentioned by Zheng An just now. She knitted her brows at once, shut the Bible and then lowered her head, deep in thought. Wei Defu, however, sat aside, indifferently.

Sister Gao said with emotion, “Right. People who can enter into the kingdom of heaven are those who must rid themselves of sin and be cleansed, and who can obey God’s way, submit to God, love God and worship Him. Because God is holy. People entering the kingdom of heaven will live with God. How can an impure man enter into the kingdom of God? Think back to the Jewish Pharisees of that time. Why could all that they did not be approved by the Lord Jesus? Primarily because they suffered for preaching in fact in order to get profits and rewards. God is righteous. He sees into the depths of man’s heart. So when the Lord Jesus came to do His work, they were completely exposed. In order to safeguard their position and livelihood, they frantically condemned and resisted the Lord Jesus, were in enmity to Him, and crucified Him. As a consequence, they suffered the curse and punishment of God. This is a known fact. Though we can forsake all and work hard, yet we act not out of love for the Lord but of gaining blessings and rewards. Can we be considered holy? We cannot achieve the standard of entering into the kingdom of heaven at all!”

After hearing this, Jiahui could not help but feel a little sad. She thought of the Lord’s word, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like to it, You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Mat 22:37-39). However, she has abandoned everything and worked hard during these years of her faith in the Lord in exchange for rewards and for entering the kingdom of heaven instead of obeying and loving the Lord. If she holds onto this view to go forward, then she is exactly treading the same path as that of the Pharisees. As can be seen, hard work is not of primary importance. Rather, the most important thing is to follow the commandments of the Lord, to submit to Him and love Him. After the fierce disputation, Jiahui saw more clearly and distinctly the way of believing in God ahead.

[love-god-forever]

Can One Enter the Kingdom of Heaven by Doing Hard Work for God?

By Qiao Yue

In the evening, the setting sun gradually dropped from the horizon, a severe heat filling the air. Having had supper at an early time, the elderly men, with small stools, were sitting around in twos and threes, having talky talks. A few naughty children were running about and a little tortoiseshell cat with narrow eyes lying prone under the eave lazily, still.

At this time, from a room of a family came out the father’s shouts, “I see there is only Jesus in your heart. You don’t care about your parents or this family. In believing in Jesus, you, over thirty years of age, don’t marry or work. Additionally, you’ve been arrested and imprisoned for three years. Soon after you were set free, you’ll be out again. Get away! Get away quickly! Don’t come back forever. I don’t have a daughter like you!”

The voice disturbed the people enjoying the evening cool. An old man shook his head and said, “Not having come back for very long, Jiahui offends her father again.” “Yeah. In order to believing in the Lord, she has given up home and occupation for over ten years, and spent three years in prison. She just came out of it but is chucked out again by her father.” Another old man said, shaking his head and giving a deep sigh.

Jiahui is a preacher of a family church. She has inborn intelligence. At the age of twelve, she accepted the gospel of the Lord Jesus. Since then, she has had faith in the Lord for twenty years. And she has learned theology for three years. Now she is an excellent preacher. However, her parents have a negative opinion of her belief in the Lord. Now she was driven out by them.

After a while, Jiahui came out of her family with her suitcase, her eyes filling with tears, but her footsteps went forward firmly. She looked at these familiar old people with a smile and disappeared out of their eyesight along the alley.

She came into the place for the gathering of coworkers, put down her suitcase and sat on a chair. Everybody’s eyes were focused on her. They became silent at once.

Liu Xiaoping, by her side, asked in a quiet voice, “Have you been driven out again by your family? Are your parents still angry with you?”

Jiahui shook her head with a sigh and said bitterly, “Yeah. How can they possibly understand me? The viewpoints of the believers are not in accordance with those of the unbelievers. This is the cross that I should take up. We will not attain the Lord’s approval if we don’t suffer. Now the prophecies of the coming of the Lord have all been fulfilled. The Lord will soon rapture us into the heavenly home. How wonderful the kingdom of heaven is! Enduring this suffering now is temporary. Isn’t it said in the Bible, ‘For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory’ (2Co 4:17). Thinking of the blessings in the future, I think no matter how much we suffer and no matter how many tears we shed for the Lord, they have been worth it! When the Lord comes back to rapture us, we will not suffer anymore.”

Clapping Jiahui on the shoulder, Liu Xiaoping said, “Yes. It’s our blessings to suffer for the Lord.” With these words, Liu Xiaoping lowered her tone and said, “However, I am thinking about this recently: The Lord Jesus said, ‘Not every one that said to me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that does the will of my Father which is in heaven’ (Mat 7:21). I always think although we sacrifice something and work hard, we still sin and offend the Lord. Confronting something untoward, we will complain against the Lord; when working, we follow our own intentions, have no place of the Lord in our heart, nor do we consider obeying His will. How can we thus be called people who obey the will of the heavenly Father? A question has remained in my heart for a long time: Do we have the qualifications for entering into the kingdom of heaven?” Knowing the feeling clearly herself, Sister Gao said, “In my spare time, I often examine myself: Am I the one who obeys the way of the Lord during the last forty years of my faith in the Lord? Am I qualified to enter into the kingdom of heaven? Will I be raptured when the Lord returns? The Lord said, ‘Whoever commits sin is the servant of sin. And the servant stays not in the house for ever: but the Son stays ever’ (Jhn 8:34-35). God is holy and His kingdom is a holy place. Although I have sacrificed and labored for the Lord for many years, I often sin and tell lies; I haven’t done great evils, but I still can’t be purified. How can I have the qualifications for entering into the kingdom of heaven? The more I think about this, the more insecure I feel within.”

Wei Defu on one side got the reins and said confidently, “Sister Gao, you’ve worked hard all your life for the Lord. Owing to preaching, you had been in prison for ten years and suffered so much, but you didn’t deny the name of the Lord. This proves you’ve borne testimony to the Lord. This is certainly to be praised by the Lord. Although we sometimes sin, tell lies and cannot put the Lord’s word into practice, He will not condemn us as sinners for He has abundant grace. In believing in the Lord, we can be saved and enter the kingdom of heaven by grace. This is my comprehension.” Jiahui nodded her head on one side.

Having a look at Jiahui and Wei Defu, Brother Zheng An thought a while and said, “I can’t agree with you. It is right for us to work hard for the Lord. However, can hard work mean that we are holy, we obey the way of God, and that we have been fully in consistent with God’s will? The Lord said, ‘Be you holy; for I am holy’ (1Pe 1:16). At present, though we can work hard and show some good behaviors, we still haven’t practiced much of the Lord’s word. Like loving others as ourselves, loving our enemies and being the light of the world and the salt of the earth, these things haven’t been realized upon us. We often commit sins and confess them. In what sense are we the holy people? We aspire to be taken up into the kingdom of heaven in this way. Isn’t that somewhat unrealistic?” Everyone bent his head and said nothing. The air seemed to have been frozen.

At this moment, Jiahui frowned and said in bewilderment, “We have abandoned everything to follow the Lord, spreading the gospel, sacrificing, being in prison, and paying the price of suffering for the Lord. Wasn’t this obeying the will of the heavenly Father? The apostle Paul said, ‘I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: From now on there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness’ (2Ti 4:7-8). You see, there are so many believers in the Lord. How many of them can truly forsake everything to preach the gospel and make great sacrifices for the Lord? Those working hard are the people who are to get rewards from the Lord in the kingdom of heaven. As long as we have faith, abandon all things, spread the gospel more and work hard for the Lord, we are certain to enter into the kingdom of heaven in the end.”

Wei Defu said approvingly, “Jiahui is right. Brother Paul pointed out this way for us. I firmly believe that providing we make many sacrifices and pay the price according to his instruction, we will be able to enter into the kingdom of heaven.”

Faced with this disputation, Liu Xiaoping was a little confused, murmuring, “These words are plainly said by Paul. However, they are regarded as God’s words just for they are written in the Bible. Are they Paul’s words or God’s? Can Paul’s words really represent God’s words?”

Brother Zheng An said sternly and solemnly, “We believers in the Lord should use the Lord’s word as our basis for everything, especially for entering into the kingdom of heaven. The words of Paul and other apostles were recorded in the Bible, but they can’t represent the words of the Lord Jesus. What’s more, the Lord didn’t witness that the path Paul had walked was proper, nor did He witness that Paul had already been raptured into the kingdom of heaven. According to what Paul said, on condition that we work hard for the Lord, we will be able to obtain rewards and enter into the kingdom of heaven. If so, couldn’t all of the Jewish Pharisees who compassed sea and land spreading the gospel but resisted and convicted the Lord Jesus enter the kingdom of heaven? Couldn’t those who preach and cast out devils in the name of the Lord but don’t follow God’s way then also have the qualifications for entering into the kingdom of heaven? Isn’t this viewpoint opposite to that of the Lord Jesus? We haven’t seen, from the Bible, that the Lord ever said such words. Instead He told us clearly, ‘Be you holy; for I am holy’ (1Pe 1:16). ‘Not every one that said to me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that does the will of my Father which is in heaven’ (Mat 7:21). From the Lord’s words, we can be sure that we have been forgiven of our sins but are not qualified to enter into the kingdom of heaven. Not until we are purified and become the men who can obey God’s will can we enter into the kingdom of heaven. That we believe in God relying on notions and imaginations violates the Lord’s will and deviates from His way. Not only can we not get the Lord’s approval, but rather we will be loathed by Him.” Hearing the sharp refutation of Zheng An, Jiahui hurried to skim through, in the Bible, the scriptures mentioned by Zheng An just now. She knitted her brows at once, shut the Bible and then lowered her head, deep in thought. Wei Defu, however, sat aside, indifferently.

Sister Gao said with emotion, “Right. People who can enter into the kingdom of heaven are those who must rid themselves of sin and be cleansed, and who can obey God’s way, submit to God, love God and worship Him. Because God is holy. People entering the kingdom of heaven will live with God. How can an impure man enter into the kingdom of God? Think back to the Jewish Pharisees of that time. Why could all that they did not be approved by the Lord Jesus? Primarily because they suffered for preaching in fact in order to get profits and rewards. God is righteous. He sees into the depths of man’s heart. So when the Lord Jesus came to do His work, they were completely exposed. In order to safeguard their position and livelihood, they frantically condemned and resisted the Lord Jesus, were in enmity to Him, and crucified Him. As a consequence, they suffered the curse and punishment of God. This is a known fact. Though we can forsake all and work hard, yet we act not out of love for the Lord but of gaining blessings and rewards. Can we be considered holy? We cannot achieve the standard of entering into the kingdom of heaven at all!”

After hearing this, Jiahui could not help but feel a little sad. She thought of the Lord’s word, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like to it, You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Mat 22:37-39). However, she has abandoned everything and worked hard during these years of her faith in the Lord in exchange for rewards and for entering the kingdom of heaven instead of obeying and loving the Lord. If she holds onto this view to go forward, then she is exactly treading the same path as that of the Pharisees. As can be seen, hard work is not of primary importance. Rather, the most important thing is to follow the commandments of the Lord, to submit to Him and love Him. After the fierce disputation, Jiahui saw more clearly and distinctly the way of believing in God ahead.

[manifestos-space-design]

Parametrics as Style - Parametricist Manifesto

By Patrik Schumacher, 2008

Presented and discussed at the Dark Side Club(1), 11th Architecture Biennale, Venice 2008

www.patrikschumacher.com/Texts/Parametricism%20as%20Style.htm, viewed February 2, 2017

We pursue the parametric design paradigm all the way, penetrating into all corners of the discipline. Systematic, adaptive variation, continuous differentiation (rather than mere variety), and dynamic, parametric figuration concerns all design tasks from urbanism to the level of tectonic detail, interior furnishings and the world of products.

Architecture finds itself at the mid-point of an ongoing cycle of innovative adaptation – retooling the discipline and adapting the architectural and urban environment to the socio-economic era of post-fordism. The mass society that was characterized by a single, nearly universal consumption standard has evolved into the heterogenous society of the multitude. The key issues that avant-garde architecture and urbanism should be addressing can be summarized in the slogan: organising and articulating the increased complexity of post-fordist society. The task is to develop an architectural and urban repertoire that is geared up to create complex, polycentric urban and architectural fields which are densely layered and continuously differentiated.

Contemporary avant-garde architecture is addressing the demand for an increased level of articulated complexity by means of retooling its methods on the basis of parametric design systems. The contemporary architectural style that has achieved pervasive hegemony within the contemporary architectural avant-garde can be best understood as a research programme based upon the parametric paradigma. We propose to call this style: Parametricism. Parametricism is the great new style after modernism. Postmodernism and Deconstructivism have been transitional episodes that ushered in this new, long wave of research and innovation.

Avant-garde styles might be interpreted and evaluated in analogy to new scientific paradigms, affording a new conceptual framework, and formulating new aims, methods and values. Thus a new direction for concerted research work is established.(2) My thesis is therefore: Styles are design research programmes.(3) Innovation in architecture proceeds via the progression of styles so understood. This implies the alternation between periods of cumulative advancement within a style and revolutionary periods of transition between styles. Styles represent cycles of innovation, gathering the design research efforts into a collective endeavor. Stable self-identity is here as much a necessary precondition of evolution as it is in the case of organic life. To hold on to the new principles in the face of difficulties is crucial for the chance of eventual success. This tenacity  - abundantly evident within the contemporary avant-garde -  might at times appear as dogmatic obstinacy. For instance, the obstinate insistence of solving everything with a folding single surface  - project upon project, slowly wrenching the plausible from the implausible – might be compared to the Newtonian insistence to explain everything from planets to bullets to atoms in terms of the same principles. “Newton’s theory of gravitation, Einstein’s relativity theory, quantum mechanics, Marxism, Freudianism, are all research programmes, each with a characteristic hard core stubbornly defended, … each with its elaborate problem solving machinery. Each of them, at any stage of its development, has unsolved problems and undigested anomalies. All theories, in this sense, are born refuted and die refuted.”(4) The same can be said of styles: Each style has its hard core of principles and a characteristic way of tackling design problems/tasks. Avant-garde architecture produces manifestos: paradigmatic expositions of a new style’s unique potential, not buildings that are balanced to function in all respects. There can be neither verification, nor final refutation merely on the basis of its built results.(5) The programme/style consists of methodological rules: some tell us what paths of research to avoid (negative heuristics), and others what paths to pursue (positive heuristics). The negative heuristics formulates strictures that prevent the relapse into old patterns that are not fully consistent with the core, and the positive heuristics offers guiding principles and preferred techniques that allow the work to fast-forward in one direction. The defining heuristics of parametricism are fully reflected in the taboos and dogmas of contemporary avant-gared design culture: Negative heuristics: avoid familiar typologies, avoid platonic/hermetic objects, avoid clear-cut zones/territories, avoid repetition, avoid straight lines, avoid right angles, avoid corners, …, and most importantly: do not add or subtract without elaborate interarticulations. Positive heuristics: interarticulate, hyberdize, morph, deterritorialize, deform, iterate, use splines, nurbs, generative components, script rather than model, …

Parametricism is a mature style. That the parametric paradigm is becoming pervasive in contemporary architecture and design is evident for quite some time. There has been talk about versioning, iteration and mass customization etc. for quite a while within the architectural avant-garde discourse. The fundamental desire that has come to the fore in this tendency had already been formulated at the beginning of the 1990s with the key slogan of “continuous differentiation”(6). Since then there has been both a widespread, even hegemonic dissemination of this tendency as well as a cumulative build up of virtuosity, resolution and refinement within it. This development was facilitated by the attendant development of parametric design tools and scripts that allow the precise formulation and execution of intricate correlations between elements and subsystems. The shared concepts, computational techniques, formal repertoires, and tectonic logics that characterize this work are crystallizing into a solid new hegemonic paradigm for architecture. One of the most pervasive current techniques involves populating modulated surfaces with adaptive components.Components might be constructed from multiple elements constrained/cohered by associative relations so that the overall component might sensibly adapt to various local conditions. As they populate a differentiated surface their adaptation should accentuate and amplify this differentiation. This relationship between the base component and its various instantiations at different points of insertion in the “environment” is analogous to the way a single geno-type might produce a differentiated population of pheno-types in response to divers environmental conditions.

The current stage of advancement within parametricism relates as much to the continuous advancement of the attendant computational dresign technologies as it is due to the designer’s realization of the unique formal and organizational opportunities that are afforded. Parametricism can only exist via sophisticated parametric techniques. Finally, computationally advanced design techniques like scripting (in Mel-script or Rhino-script) and parametric modeling (with tools like GC or DP) are becoming a pervasive reality. Today it is impossible to compete within the contemporary avant-garde scene without mastering these techniques. Parametricism emerges from the creative exploitation of parametric design systems in view of articulating increasingly complex social processes and institutions. The parametric design tools by themselves cannot account for this drastic stylistic shift from modernism to parametricism. This is evidenced by the fact that late modernist architects are employing parametric tools in ways which result in the maintenance of a modernist aesthetics, i.e. using parametric modelling to inconspicuously absorb complexity. Our parametricist sensibility pushes in the opposite direction and aims for a maximal emphasis on conspicuous differentiation. It is the sense of organized (law-governed) complexity that assimilates parametricist works to natural systems, where all forms are the result of lawfully interacting forces. Just like natural systems, parametricist compositions are so highly integrated that they cannot be easily decomposed into independent subsystems – a major point of difference in comparison with the modern design paradigm of clear separation of functional subsystems.

The following 5 agendas might be proposed here to inject new aspects into the parametric paradigm and to push the development of parametricism further:

Inter-articulation of sub-systems: The ambition is to move from single system differentiation – e.g. a swarm of façade components - to the scripted association of multiple subsystems – envelope, structure, internal subdivision, navigation void. The differentiation in any one systems is correlated with differentions in the other systems.

Parametric Accentuation: The ambition is to enhance the overall sense of organic integration through intricate correlations that favour deviation amplification rather than compensatory or ameliorating adaptations. For instance, when generative components populate a surface with a subtle curvature modulation the lawful component correlation should accentuate and amplify the initial differentiation. This might include the deliberate setting of accentuating thresholds or singularities. Thus a far richer articulation can be achieved and thus more orienting visual information can be made available. 

Parametric Figuration(7): We propose that complex configurations that are latent with multiple readings can be constructed as a parametric model. The parametric model might be set up so that the variables are extremely Gestalt-sensitive. Parametric variations trigger gestalt-catastrophes, i.e. the quantitative modification of these parameters trigger qualitative shifts in the perceived order of the configuration. This notion of parametric figuration implies an expansion in the types of parameters considered within parametric design. Beyond the usual geometric object parameters, ambient parameters (variable lights) and observer parameters (variable cameras) have to considered and integrated into the parametric system.

Parametric Responsiveness(8): We propose that urban and architectural (interior) environments can be designed with an inbuilt kinetic capacity that allows those environments to reconfigure and adapt themselves in response to the prevalent patterns of use and occupation. The real time registration of use-patterns produces the parameters that drive the real time kinetic adaptation process. Cumulative registration of use patterns result in semi-permanent morphological transformations. The built environment acquires responsive agency at different time scales. 

Parametric Urbanism(9): The assumption is that the urban massing describes a swarm-formation of many buildings. These buildings form a continuously changing field, whereby lawful continuities cohere this manifold of buildings. Parametric urbanism implies that the systematic modulation of the buildings’ morphologies produces powerful urban effects and facilitates field orientation. Parametric Urbanism might involve parametric accentuation, parametric figuration, and parametric responsivess.

Modernism was founded on the concept of space. Parametricism differentiates fields. Fields are full, as if filled with a fluid medium. We might think of liquids in motion, structured by radiating waves, laminal flows, and spiraling eddies. Swarms have also served as paradigmatic analogues for the field-concept. We would like to think of swarms of buildings that drift across the landscape. Or we might think of large continuous interiors like open office landscapes or big exhibition halls of the kind used for trade fairs. Such interiors are visually infinitely deep and contain various swarms of furniture coalescing with the dynamic swarms of human bodies. There are no platonic, discrete figures with sharp outlines. Within fields only the global and regional field qualities matter: biases, drifts, gradients, and perhaps even conspicuous singularities like radiating centres. Deformation does no longer spell the breakdown of order but the lawful inscription of information. Orientation in a complex, lawfully differentiated field affords navigation along vectors of transformation .The contemporary condition of arriving in a metropolis for the first time, without prior hotel arrangements, without a map, might instigate this kind of field-navigation. Imagine there are no more landmarks to hold on, no axis to follow and no more boundaries to cross. Contemporary architecture aims to construct new logics – the logic of fields – that gear up to organize and articulate the new level of dynamism and complexity of contemporary society.

Furniture and product design fully participates in the parametricist agenda we are pursuing. We consider furniture not in terms of isolated objects but as a pre-eminent space-making substance. Our design efforts need to encompass the domains of interior design, furniture design, and even product design. We can orchestrate all those registers to advance the design of integrated, immersive worlds. Our handling of interior furnishings as dynamic swarm formations, or sometimes as a continuous surface/fluid mass, is geared towards the detailed elaboration of the continuously differentiated fields described above.

NOTES:

1 The Dark Side Club is a critical salon initiated and organized by Robert White to coincide with the Architecture Biennale. Three successive events were onceived as a critical salon to debate some of the themes Aaron Betsky had set for this year’s Biennale. Three curators have been invited to each put forward a proposition for debate: Patrik Schumacher, Greg Lynn, and Gregor Eichinger. Each invited young architects and thinkers to debate the direction architecture is taking. The first session – curated and introduced by Patrik Schumacher was titled: Parametricism as New Style. The following 8 architectural studios were presenting: MAD, f-u-r, UFO,  Plasma Studio, Minimaforms, Aranda/Lasch, AltN Research+Design, MOH. Jeff Kipnis acted as moderator.

2 This interpretation of styles is valid only with respect to the avant-garde phase of any style.

3 It is important to distinguish between research programmes in the literal sense of institutional research plans from the meta-scientific conception of research programmes that has been introduced into the philosophy of science: whole new research traditions that are directed by a new fundamental theoretical framework. It is this latter concept that is utilized here for the reinterpretation of the concept of style. See: Imre Lakatos, The Methodology of Scientific Research Programmes, Cambridge 1978

4 Lakatos, Imre, The Methodology of Scientific Research Programmes, Cambridge 1978, p.5

5 The final reckoning takes place later, in the arena of the mainstream adoption which only indirectly feeds back into the central, discursive arena of the discipline.

6 The credit for coining this key slogan goes to Greg Lynn and Jeff Kipnis.

7 “Parametric Figuration” featured in our teachings at Yale and at the University of Applied Arts, Vienna. It also featured in my studio at the AADRL.

8 Parametric Responsiveness was at the heart of our 3 year design research agenda “Responsive Environments” at the AADRL in London from 2001-2004.

9 “Parametric Urbanism” is the title of our recently completed design research cycle at the AADRL, from 2005 – 2008.

[fear-god-shun-evil]

How to Be Honest: 4 Principles

By Qing Jing

I read the Lord Jesus’s word in the Bible, “Truly I say to you, Except you be converted, and become as little children, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3). I came to realize, God loves the honest. He hopes that we do not have pretensions but become an honest person as the innocent and vibrant children. Because only the honest can enter the kingdom of heaven. Then what should we do to be an honest person? I often ponder this problem. Thanks for the Lord’s guidance, I had knowledge of how to be honest. I want to share it with you.

First, be honest when praying. It’s recorded in the Book of John 4:23-24, the Lord Jesus said, “But the hour comes, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeks such to worship him. God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth” (John 4:23-24). This part of the scriptures makes me know the first step to be honest is sharing our innermost thoughts, our actual condition and real difficulties with God instead of doing things to show off to others, or saying words that are nice or contrary to our own convictions to deceive God. Just as the Book of Luke 18:10-14 said, “Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank you, that I am not as other men are, extortionists, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess. And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes to heaven, but smote on his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner. I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other:” (Luke 18:10-14). From the Pharisee and publican’s prayer, we come to know that the prayer of the publican was extremely simple, he just asked for the Lord’s mercy on him a sinner. But he owned up to his mistakes with a true heart and repented what he had done before God. On the contrary, the Pharisee only said something nice in prayer to take credit in front of God and show off themselves before man. He didn’t truly open up his heart and speak the words within his heart to God. So, even if his prayers were nice, he still couldn’t receive the approval of God. The Lord Jesus exposed the Pharisees, “Which devour widows’ houses, and for a pretense make long prayers: these shall receive greater damnation” (Mark 12:40). In real life, we should practice speaking the words within our hearts to God, tell Him the truth and accept His observation in our every word and action when we pray to God. Only in this way, can we embark on the path of being an honest person.

Second, to be an honest person, we should practice speaking the truth and abandoning lies. The Lord Jesus said, “But let your communication be, Yes, yes; No, no: for whatever is more than these comes of evil” (Mat 5:37). His word demands that we should be straight to the point and speak in a practical and realistic manner, speaking accurately and not doing or saying anything underhand. If we don’t speak honestly, then we will be all evil-doers. Thinking of my daily life, I often said much that is inaccurate for the sake of my own interests and status. For example, I sometimes had to speak against my will to curry favor with others; for fear that others would look down on me, I would cover the truth and say something raising myself up to leave a good impression. When there occurred deviations or flaws in my own work, I would always make a problem smaller and trivialize it into nothing when reporting on my work. These problems frequently occurring in our daily life need to be solved when we practice being an honest person. Then, what should we do to solve the problem of lying and deceiving? The first thing is to set strict demands on ourselves and record what we said. We must accept God’s observation to exam whether every word we said is true to the facts or there is mixture in the words. If there is mixture, we should pray to rebel against individual intentions that are not right. Only in this way, will our lies become ever fewer.

Third, we should not deceive God with our indolence in fulfilling our duties. The Lord demands us, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and great commandment” (Mat 22:37-38). His word tells us that we should love our God with all our heart, soul and mind. When performing our duties, we shouldn’t conduct transactions with God or deceive God with our indolence, but do our best and fully spend ourselves for Him without the adulteration of motivations, aims, or trades. However, when it came to matters that involved my own personal benefit and required me to suffer and pay a price, I was only mindful of the flesh and couldn’t perform my duty well with my heart and strength, but want to be slipshod and cut corners without seeking any outcome, never considering whether it can satisfy God. For example, when watering the new believers, I was just content that it would all get done so long as the new believers were willing to attend meetings, and didn’t care about whether they understand the truth. Sometimes, brothers and sisters were passive and weak, I only fellowshiped with them but didn’t keep track of their situations to go on helping and supporting them. To solve the problem of working perfunctorily, we should reflect on whether our duty has been fulfilled acceptably, whether we put our heart into duty or gave it our best shot. In addition, pray to God more, and accept His observation and others’ supervision. Practicing this for a while will help us fool around in our duties less than before.

Fourth, to be an honest person, we should give our heart to God. This is the most critical method of practice. The Lord said, “This people draws near to me with their mouth, and honors me with their lips; but their heart is far from me. But in vain they do worship me” (Mat 15:8-9). What God hopes is giving our heart completely to Him instead of paying lip service to belief and worship. No matter if we receive blessings or suffer misfortune, our faith never changes. Finally, we can spend ourselves for God, submitting to His sovereignty and arrangements without any reasons, conditions or arguing our own gains and losses. Just as Job’s trials, he lost his property and his children, suffering the torment of illness. However, he still retained his integrity without anyone understanding, neither complaining and misunderstanding God, nor losing confidence in Him. In addition, he believed in the sovereignty of God and truly submitted to Him. Another example, when Abraham was demanded to give his only son Isaac as a burnt offering, he didn’t talk reason or complain about God, but return his favorite son, who was born when he was a hundred years old, back to God unconditionally. And Peter, he was crucified upside down for God, and so on. They are the honest in God’s eyes because they have given their heart to Him. Compared to them, I can’t obey or worship God without conditions. Instead, I just want to pay price for God’s blessings in heaven, and work hard in exchange for the crown of righteousness. Such are the manifestations of deceiving God. Though I believe in God, God is not in my heart and I can’t give my heart to Him. So, to be an honest person who are delightful to God, it is necessary for us to give our heart to Him. We should pray to God，rely on Him in all things, and act based on His will. No matter what we do, we shouldn’t plot for ourselves, but submit to God’s sovereignty and arrangements.

To be an honest person, we should carry out these four aspects to practice. To be an honest person, we should carry out these four aspects to practice: speak the words within our heart to God; tell the truth when faced with something; take responsibility for our duty, being serious and careful; seek God’s will and submit to His sovereignty and arrangements, not complaining about Him in any trial. Only in this way, can we finally be an honest person who are beloved by God.

Source: By Grow in Christ