#Forever may the North and South reign

[thepalaceofmelanie]

MW- Character of the day: Arianne Martell

Tag: @adriennegabriella @morby @tashastrange89 @candycanes19 @wingsoftheangels

(A/N: My one verse fix for the eff up that both D&D and, GRRM did to House Martell canon wise. Oh by the way, the way I have magic used in my verses, is a bit different from canon. Till and if GRRM finishes the series, I’m just using it my way. Enjoy the story.)

Character of the day: Arianne Martell

Song Inspired: “Home” and “Give Me A Sign” by: Breaking Benjamin

“I can help you get you the Iron Throne.”

Was all that the note read. Arianne could tell it was the same writing as the note that was left for her Father, Doran. That was from four days ago.

“Come to King’s Landing in three days time. Bring your Ellaria, the Sand Snakes and your Father, if he can.”

Was all that the note read. Arianne was interested on who was sending the notes; she could feel eyes on her though. She wasn’t sure what the feeling was. Arianne did not want to bring her Father with her, not after all the hell he brought to her mentally. That was from three days ago.

“Your Uncle isn’t dead, he lives. You have no reason to believe this claim or, any that I have had made to you, but I did promise your Father.”

Was all that the note read. Her heart wanted to stop, to read that line made her enraged. The blood of Martell screamed for answers. Arianne had to wait though, would the others believe her if she told them the truth? That was two days ago.

“I serve the Martells, like I do my own house. I seek to have Tywin and Cersei Lannister dead.”

Was all that the note red. Arianne chuckled at the note; if they’re a real ally, it would make this interesting. Soon they’d be in King’s Landing and the mystery would be answered. Was Oberyn truly alive or was this a gambit, Arianne could afford to take? That was a day ago.

“Come to the Red Keep.”

Was all that the last note read…

This was it, Arianne, her cousins and Ellaria had made it to King’s Landing; Arianne being confident normally, felt nervous. It was like time slowed down for her and that, if it was for nothing, that it would be a fate worse than death.

The group, huddled together, weapons at the drawn at an eerily calm Red Keep. It was like it had been abandoned like Shadystone. Their hearts beating hard as they felt anxious, their steps echoing as they head for the Throne room.

They walk into the room and standing in the center of the room is Oberyn Martell, skull in tact. Oberyn’s daughters jaws drop. Arianne’s eyes tear up in joy and Ellaria ran over to him, her hand touching his face.

“It’s him...how?” Ellaria asked.

“Apologizes my love.” Oberyn smirked.

I walked into the room, just watching from a far. Allowing Oberyn to be with his family…

Arianne felt something touch her shoulder; a raven with a small scroll...just like the one from her Father’s study the one day. She took the scroll:

“Over here.”

Arianne’s eyes meet mine, a small smile on my face. I started to walk over to them, thinking it would be okay now.

“We’ve been waiting for you Queen Arianne.” I spoke finally. I pulled my hood down and smiled at the group.

“How?! How is he alive?” Arianne asked.

Of course Oberyn and Ellaria were making out like horny teenagers, but it’s welcomed right now. I turned to the shadows. Arianne could see a black humanoid mass standing there. Her eyes go wide in shock seeing it.

“Do you remember how I came to Dorne with no guards from the North?” I asked.

“Yes.” Arianne answered.

“It’s why. Basically I was able to switch your Uncle out for my shadow. What Ellaria saw, was my shadow magus being murdered. Listen, your Grace, if you want me dead for not-”

“Why would I want you dead? You saved my Uncle! I mean, sure I am upset at the fact you didn’t say anything but I...thank you.” Arianne was a bit stunned.

Doran had a plan to put Arianne on the Iron Throne; things changed but when I sent Doran that note all that time ago, I meant it. I would help him get her on the throne and help get justice for Elia. I’m not doing it for the glory or anything, it’s because they’re my family.

I may have the wolf blood in me, but they’re part of our family too. Maybe now Father, Mother and Robb may rest. Arianne was sitting on the Iron Throne, was the next thing I remembered. Cersei’s crown now on her head.

"'Unbowed, unbent, unbroken.' The words of House Martell. A promise to our enemies, and a challenge to our lovers."

[slutshamethesquirrels]

Slow It Down, Cowboy - The Director's Cut

hi there sweet readers!! if you've found this post, chances are you've just finished reading the "Slow It Down, Cowboy" AU, a project that the lovely @vallification joined me in spearheading over the course of the past week or so!

If you have somehow managed to stumble upon this post before you found the works, fret not!

"Slow It Down, Cowboy" is the title (inspired by a song of the same name by the lovely Anna Bates) of our little labor of love, an AU based in roughly 1870's America (we did our best but it probably is a lil historically inaccurate, so don't judge us too harshly!).

Here you can read "All The Sweet Tea In Carolina"

(outlaw!geto x reader) (title inspired by: All The Sweet Tea by Denitia)

Here you can read "In My Heart You Pay No Rent"

(outlaw!gojo x reader) (title inspired by: Pay No Rent by Turnpike Troubadours)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A retrospective look at "Slow It Down, Cowboy"

wow. just wow, what a long, wild ride this has been! /pos

"Slow It Down, Cowboy" started as something inconsequential for me. A silly little one shot idea that I off-handedly mentioned to Val, which she loved. I mentioned one "Six Eyes Satoru Gojo" in my writings, and Val absolutely fell in love with the idea of him. She asked if she could write a one shot, just for herself, and before long we were making plans for what may possibly be my favorite fanfic project to date.

I want to make something very clear: CowBoy!JJK is nothing new. You can search it up and find thousands upon thousands of fanworks based around the idea. We are not the first, and we will not be the last.

However, I do think my lovely second brain, Val, and I bring something unique to the table: we are both from the bible belt. Val reigns from Texas and I from the southernmost Appalachian Mountains in North Carolina. Both of us were raised on farms!!

Speaking of Val, We Have A Little Word From Her:

HELLO!!! It’s Val now hehe. I’m gonna keep this as short and sweet as I possibly can, but if you have read anything of what I’ve written you’ll know it’s TERRIBLY hard for me to shut my trap. This entire AU has been such a whirlwind! It’s not often that you find someone who loves where they come from just as much as you do, and it’s less often still when you hail from southern/southwestern states. To be able to mix my favorite characters, my love for writing, and my love for my home into one AU has been so incredible, so exhilarating, and most of all so rewarding. I really have made a great friend through all of this, one that I’m EXTREMELY grateful for, as well as two great works of writing that I will think about FOREVER.

Through this AU, we were able to connect and share our cultures, and explore how they were similar and so, so different. We talked music and shared pictures of our respective birth places it was INCREDIBLE!! Of course, Val chose to set her story out in the developing west, where she's from and I absolutely JUMPED at the chance to be able to write something set in the south eastern mountains, the place that I have known was my home since before I could comprehend what home was supposed to be.

Although unintentional, it is not lost on me how our stories sort of ended up being shaped by the setting, with Vals centering around themes of discovery, exploration, and excitement, and mine containing themes of tradition, expectations, and strong familial bonds that transcend such. (and, of course, a splash of religious bullshittery bc who am i as a writer? yall already know)

To get a little feel for Val's culture, you can listen to this playlist!

And if Appalachia is more your vibe, lean your ears to this!

I also wanted to say that I waterboarded Val and forced her to watch Young Guns (for research,ofc. not because it's my favorite movie at ALL)

Anyway she said it's the best movie she's ever seen (no she didnt but she did like it)

Is this too sentimental for two smutty jjk one shots? Y e s but I simply cannot care. This project became more important to me than probably anything I've ever written. I made a friend that I hope to keep for a long time and was able to somehow fall even more in love with these hills <3 I may cry on my next drive to work when I overlook the valley, I'm not gonna lie.

Funny Moments From Behind The Scenes

oh god, there were so many, but the trump card of all has to be that I posted a tiktok PURELY because you cannot send videos via tumblr dms and I wanted to show Val. Please tell me why at the time of writing this, it's currently sitting at 215K views, 37k likes, 600 comments, and 4,200 saves?????? and the comments are hilarious. this one is my favorite:

also, during editing, val deffo discovered my weakness:

also, i cannot TELL YALL how stressed we were! this project was truly so SO important to us!

also, this:

[hondagirll]

@dollsome-does-tumblr tagged me on my top 9 books. I need to stress how HARD this was to choose only 9. As someone who (checks my GR) reads an average of 75 books a year, this was incredibly stressful but I did it. This are my top books that I come back and re-read, year after year, some decade after decade.

The Queen's Thief by Megan Walen Turner: Our first introduction to Gen, love of my life and the most unreliable narrator I have ever met.

Persuasion by Jane Austen: Second chance at love? Indifferent family members? Anne who thinks Wentworth is completely and totally over her and Wentworth, who thinks he is completely and totally over Anne except she's the sole focus of his attention every time they meet up? HERE FOR IT.

Betsy Was a Junior by Maud Hart Lovelace: It is really hard to pick one from the series, the last six books I usually re-read in one go but I love Betsy's junior year if only for the herbarium project shenagians - "THERE WERE NO FALL FLOWERS TURNED IN! NEVER, IN ALL MY TEACHING YEARS!" Incredible.

The Firebird by Susanan Kearsley: You have to read book #1 first but this sequel is my favorite (and I love books 1 and 3 a lot!). So many characters and storylines and I adore the setting. At 500 pages it's one of those books you can just sit down and spend a entire day getting lost in it. Which I do no matter how many times I re-read.

Slightly Dangerous by Mary Balogh: Re-read this back in July and this historical romance novel still holds up. Such a great love story. Also nice to see Wulfric meet someone who isn't afraid of him, his ducal title and his quizzing glass.

Anne of Green Gables by LM Montgomery: I first discovered Anne when I was 10 or 11 and instantly recognized she was a kindred spirit. That feeling hasn't changed over the years. That said, I had a hard choice choosing between this one or Rilla of Ingleside, because I love Rilla so much as well. This one won out 'cuz it the start of Anne and her story but Rilla was a close runner up.

Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell: Don't get me wrong, I love North and South and the romance, but this monstrosity of book depicting small town (white) life back in 1800's England I love just a smidge more. It's got everything - family, step parents, young love, charismatic older men, secrets and gossip. Lots and lots of gossip. Seriously. This book is little old ladies gossip central station.

Long May She Reign by Ellen Emerson White: Final book in the President's Daughter series and my absolute favorite. Meg is one of the toughest fictional characters I have ever met and I am in awe of her and her strength. Plus, she's the President's daughter which is its own strain to bear.

Romancing Mr. Bridgerton by Julia Quinn: I know people have *opinions* on the show but let me tell you, when I first read this book twenty years ago it imprinted on my soul like a little baby bird. Colin and Penelope forever! Always!

tagging @queenofattolia @ladytharen @acehardy @mrgaretcarter @librarianmouse @stars-inthe-sky @hmsharmony @waywardted and whoever else wants to do this. I know I have more readers on my dash!

[cog5]

May - The Keep, South, Area 1C

#dungeon23

5.9. Backstage

Dark, only a hint of light emanates from a gap in the stage curtains. A faint set of glowing markers are stamped into the floor, creating a guide through the mess of props, trunks, backdrops and stage lamps. Most anything can be found here, an adventurer needs only to name it. However, the object is completely fake. Any weapon found is an imitation, hardly dangerous.

5.10. Theater Stage

A grand stage, surrounded by red, moth-eaten curtains. The play is about to begin.

Act 1: The Queen’s death, and The King’s quest to revive her. In which he, himself, did manage such a thing.

Act 2: The harrowing events that ravaged the kingdom for a fortnight. In which The Queen did eat many people.

Act 3: The ingenious actions of Baltharius, the Mystical. In which he did seal The Queen’s living corpse in the Cathedral.

Act 4: The grateful King recognizes the folly of his ways. In which he appoints Baltharius to manage all affairs of the kingdom, forever, and ever, from here on.

The rudimentary propaganda piece is enacted through holographic emitters of poor audio and visual quality.

5.11. Dressing Room

A cold stillness fills the air. Dressing stations line the walls, filled with make-up slates, brushes, faux jewelry, wigs, and other items used in the art of theater. Costumes are hung about in various combinations. At the far north end of the room, a large mirror. A poster tacked to the southern door reads: “Reign Guilfoyle, Final Performance, The Basting Stitch.”

Reign Guylfoyl was the last human to perform in The King’s theater, enacting a solo performance where they play all the roles themselves. A roster of one dozen characters relay the events of a cataclysmic scenario, in which the world is quickly shrinking to the size of the head of a pin. One by one, they each disappear into an all-consuming spherical void as it closes in around them.

Guilfoyle’s ghost haunts the theater and will inhabit several costumes at once, bringing them to life, near-simultaneously. Reign’s true visage can only be seen when looking into the reflection of a mirror, as their spirit darts from one hollow costume to the next, inflating it with ectoplasmic energy. The costume slowly deflates if Reign is not present for more than a few seconds.

Guylfoyl has trouble differentiating the real world from the one depicted in the play. Through the power of their ghostly psyche, they may begin to actually shrink the world around them, calling forth a black void that slowly encircles the theater and surrounding areas.

5.12. Theater Seating

Rows of seats, bolted to the floor. They creak when sat upon, and the stuffing inside has lost its comfort.

There’s a 2-in-6 chance any given cushion is home to a rat.

There’s a 3-in-6 chance an Augmented Guard will enter and check for valid tickets.

5.13. Lobby and Concession

The lobby is empty, quiet, and dusty. Behind the concession counter, a sullen automaton waits idle. Snacks and refreshments can be purchased prior to seeing the play. Everything is very stale and served with ennui.

Tickets are one gold each, but the automaton will hand them over for any basic exchange. Gold, a button, or a handful of pebbles is fine.

[troybeecham]

Today, the Church remembers St. Cuthbert, Monk and Bishop.

Ora pro nobis.

Cuthbert (c. A.D. 634 – A.D. 20 March 687) is a saint of the early Northumbrian British Church when it was on the verge of the merging of the British Church with the Roman Church that had recently been established by missionaries sent from Rome under the leadership of St. Augustine of Canterbury in the southern Anglo-Saxon kingdoms.

He was a monk, bishop and hermit, associated with the monasteries of Melrose and Lindisfarne in what might loosely be termed the Kingdom of Northumbria in the North East of England and the South East of Scotland. After his death he became one of the most important medieval saints of Northern England, with a place of pilgrimage centred on his tomb at Durham Cathedral. Cuthbert is regarded as the patron saint of Northern England.

Cuthbert was perhaps of a noble family, and born in Dunbar in the mid-630s A.D., some ten years after the conversion of King Edwin to Christianity in A.D. 627, which was slowly followed by that of the rest of his people. The politics of the kingdom were violent, and there were later episodes of pagan rule, while spreading understanding of Christianity through the kingdom was a task that lasted throughout Cuthbert's lifetime. Edwin had been baptised by Paulinus of York, an Italian who had come with the Gregorian mission from Rome, but his successor Oswald also invited Irish monks from Iona to found the monastery at Lindisfarne where Cuthbert was to spend much of his life. This was around 635 A.D., about the time Cuthbert was born.

The tension between the Roman and British Churches, often exacerbated by Cuthbert's near-contemporary Wilfrid, an intransigent and quarrelsome supporter of Roman ways, was to be a major feature of Cuthbert's lifetime. Cuthbert himself, though educated in the British tradition, followed his mentor Eata in accepting the Roman forms without apparent difficulty after the Synod of Whitby in 664 A.D.

He was evidently indefatigable as a travelling priest, spreading the Christian message to remote villages, and also well able to impress royalty and nobility. Unlike Wilfrid, his style of life was austere, and when he was able to do, he lived the life of a hermit, though still receiving many visitors.

It was Cuthbert’s habit to walk alone down to the seashore after dark. Intrigued, one of the monks followed him at a discreet distance, hoping to see what it was that Cuthbert did at dead of night.

From his hiding place he watched Cuthbert wade out into the slate-black sea until the waters reached his neck, and then begin to sing psalms, a performance which he kept up until dawn.

The monk was still watching when back on the sands, Cuthbert became absorbed in prayer again. Suddenly, two otters scampered over to him and chafed his feet, numb with North Sea cold, and dried them with their fur. Cuthbert gave them his affectionate blessing, and they made off back to their homes.

The monk-spy could barely collect sufficient wits to find his way back to the monastery. Next morning, after confessing the whole story to Cuthbert, he promised to tell no one until after Cuthbert’s death.

Almighty God, you called Cuthbert from following the flock to be a shepherd of your people: Mercifully grant that, as he sought in dangerous and remote places those who had erred and strayed from your ways, so we may seek the indifferent and the lost, and lead them back to you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

[patriot730]

In Deuteronomy 4:40 the Lord gave the Israelites this command: “Keep his decrees and commands, which I am giving you today, so that it may go well with you and your children after you and that you may live long in the land the Lord your God gives you for all time.” Does this mean God gave Israel the Promised Land in perpetuity?

This passage contains a conditional offer. Israel would have the Promised Land as they kept God’s “decrees and commands.” The Israelites had to obey God’s statutes in order to remain in the land. History reveals that the Israelites often disobeyed, resulting in temporary times of exile from their land.

However, the end of this passage notes that God is giving Israel the Promised Land “for all time.” The Hebrew phrase translated “for all time” is a general statement, likely in reference to God’s original promise of a land to Abraham in Genesis 12.

There are both a conditional and unconditional aspect to God’s promise. God offered blessings within the Promised Land conditionally, related to the Israelites’ obedience. Yet God also made an unconditional vow that Israel would have the Promised Land “for all time.”

How long is “for all time”? In the book of Revelation, we see Israel as a central focus. In the end times, Israel faces many difficulties, yet that tribulation concludes with the Messiah reigning from His throne in Jerusalem, the capital of Israel. The book concludes with a new heaven, new earth, and new Jerusalem. The promise of Deuteronomy 4:40 is a far-seeing promise, extending to the end of this world’s existence and even into the time of the new earth.

Many other passages of Scripture support the fact that Israel will possess the Promised Land forever. For example, God spoke to Isaac in Genesis 26:3, saying, “Stay in this land for a while, and I will be with you and will bless you. For to you and your descendants I will give all these lands and will confirm the oath I swore to your father Abraham.” The Lord also spoke to Jacob in Genesis 28:13–14 with similar words: “There above it stood the Lord, and he said: ‘I am the Lord, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac. I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying. Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth, and you will spread out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south. All peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring.’” See also Psalm 132:14; Isaiah 14;1; and Zechariah 2:3–5, 10–13.

Some have suggested that, because of God’s promises to Israel concerning the Promised Land, Christians should support the modern nation of Israel without reservation. Christians have many reasons to support the people of Israel, but this does not mean Christians must agree with every political decision made by the modern Israeli government. Instead, the focus is on God’s spiritual restoration of Israel (Romans 11:26) and the enduring promise to His chosen people.

[spiritsoulandbody]

#DailyDevotion Begin Your Laments With Praise & Thanksgiving

#DailyDevotion Begin Your Laments With Praise & Thanksgiving Psalm 89 O LORD, I will sing of Your kindness forever, I will make known to all the coming generations how faithful You are. 2I will tell how Your grace is forever built in the heavens; how You firmly set up Your faithfulness there. 3“I made a covenant with the man I chose; I swore to My servant David: 4I will have your line continue forever and build your throne for all the generations.” When we come to God with complaints and laments, it is good to first praise Him for all His goodness, mercy, kindness and grace. So the psalmist begins his complaint. As Matthew Henry in his commentary notes, “We think, when we are in trouble, that we get ease by complaining; but we do more - we get joy, by praising.” So yes, bring your complaints to the LORD to be eased but fill your joy by giving Him thanks and praise. The subject of the Psalm is the LORD's promise to David in 2 Samuel 7. The LORD promised that David's line would continue and his Descendant would sit on his throne forever. David's line indeed continues in order to bring about that Descendant who reigns forever, Jesus Christ into the world. The LORD fulfills this in the most wonderful way by joining Himself to David's seed and becoming one with it. 5The heavens praise Your wonders, O LORD, and Your faithfulness in the congregation of the holy ones. 6Who in the sky can be compared to the LORD? Who among God's sons is like the LORD? 7God, terrifying in the council of holy beings, is great and more awesome than any around Him. 8O LORD God of armies, who is like You? Your strength and faithfulness surround You. The psalmist continues his praise of the LORD. He notes that creation the heavens above praise the LORD and declares His glory. The LORD's faithfulness to all His promises is praised among those who dwell in the heavens. The LORD's holy angels may seem quite magnificent, powerful and full of glory but they pale in comparison to their Creator. They stand in fearful awe of the Almighty. Indeed there is no one and nothing like the LORD. He is surrounded by strength and faithfulness. 9You rule the raging sea; when its waves rise, You quiet them. 10You crushed Rahab like a carcass; with Your strong arm You scattered Your enemies. 11Heaven is Yours and the earth is Yours, the world and everything in it - You made them. 12The north and the south-You created them; Tabor and Hermon sing Your name joyfully. 13Your arm is mighty, Your hand is strong, Your right hand is lifted high. 14Your throne is built on righteousness and justice. Mercy and truth come to serve You. The pslamist then shifts his attention from heaven above to the earth below. The LORD rules the raging sea. This gives us a wonder sign of who Jesus is as He walks on the sea and calms the wind and the waves. Jesus is this LORD. Rahab here, like in the previous Psalms is Egypt, whom the LORD defeated for the Israelites. He gives glory to the LORD for His creation. All that in the world, the LORD has created. It praises the LORD and sings joyfully about Him. Finally we have praise of the LORD for His strength, might, righteousness and justice, mercy and truth. These we will see manifest in our LORD Jesus Christ as He ministered among us in His visible visitation. Ultimately, these are manifested in Jesus in His death and resurrection, where justice, mercy, righteousness, truth and might are shown to us. Heavenly Father, Your glory, power, might, righteousness, truth, mercy, kindness and justice are manifested in Your Son Jesus Christ and declared in heaven and earth. May we join creations praise and be filled with Your joy. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. Read the full article

[anotherclassicpretence]

Persephone and Eurydice

Where Eurydice has second thoughts

I was laid to rest by a bitter sting, Yet it was in a field of nectar that I awoke, For I knew then the love that made you sing, When that Goddess smiled at me and spoke.

Words of welcome too lovely to hear, A sight too divine for earth or heaven- Truly has she shined her brightest here, Outstripped all those wonders seven.

Beauty, my love, beyond even your song, Elegance that thrilled with every step and glance, She gently took my hand and skipped along, The Fields were lit up by her joyous dance.

The days in Asphodel are cursed to be listless, A collection of mundane days to eternity, But she came so often us wanderers to bless, Her gentle joy never faded from me.

I love you more than all the world, Orpheus, But now that world is left behind, And though I will never forget us, There is a new passion erupting in my mind.

It is a love beyond return's desire, A love that will never seek to take, Only plunge headlong into the fire, And leave fiery beauty in its wake.

Today, she comes to me, awash with charm, And tells me you have bargained for my life, "Come!" She says, and takes me into her arms, "Orpheus has claimed you, his beloved wife."

Return to earth, and be with you again? Rest on the grass as you play with my hair? Oh, but what is this shot of pain, This refusal to leave Hades' deathly air?

Goddess of spring, you have made me yours, This divine love of mine reigns supreme, And though my earthly passion forever endures, My past life is now little more than a dream.

But go I must, for it must be my fate- A second passion cut off in its prime, Will you embrace me again after the wait, When I return for the final time?

Yet, the condition- is it then true? Oh, give me not hope- it cannot be! My memory will always worship you- But Orpheus, look back, look back at me!

~~

That last line may or may not have been the inspiration for the whole thing, and may or may not have come from North and South.

[identybeautynet]

Black In Fashion 2021

Black In Fashion Only black is the new black: a cultural history of fashion’s favorite shade When the group Time’s Up encouraged all actresses and actors who would walk the Golden Globes red carpet to dress in a show of solidarity against sexual harassment of women in Hollywood and other workplaces, the color it asked them to wear was black. On Jan. 30, a group of women in the US congress followed their lead, donning black for the first state of the union address by president Trump, who has himself been accused by numerous women of sexual misconduct. There is nothing about black that inherently signifies protest, but really no other shade would have sent so clear a message. There’s a reason country legend Johnny Cash also chose to wear black as a reminder to Americans of the everyday injustices in their midst. Black clothing has an undeniable power. Unlike red or green, which represent specific wavelengths of light, black isn’t exactly a color; it’s what we see when an object absorbs all visible wavelengths, putting it in a category by itself. Its singular darkness has a unique visual potency, and its adaptability has long made it open to interpretation by the numerous groups that have adopted it. Black connotes seriousness and diligence, as in the black worn by religious orders. It can be sinister or rebellious, like the black cloaks of witches or the black leather jackets worn by biker gangs. In many cultures, it’s the color of mourning. But it can simultaneously be the epitome of chic and sophistication, yet charged with eroticism. All these qualities have given black a distinctive position in fashion enjoyed by no other color. The Little Purple Dress is not famous. “Yellow tie” is not a recognized dress code. Only black will ever be the new black. Black is in Among the endless variety of colors and combinations that fashion retailers stock, black is a perennially popular choice. In a recent analysis of more than 183,000 dresses retailing online in the US, retail technology firm Edited found that about 38.5% were some shade of black, making it by far the most common color available. Only about 10.7% of dresses came in the second-most popular shade, white. EDITED Edited’s representation of the dress colors currently retailing online in the US. At the moment, black’s popularity also appears to be surging. According to Edited’s data, black dresses sold out in far greater numbers in the first few weeks of January 2018 than during the same period last year. Edited did point to Time’s Up having an effect, though it’s difficult to pinpoint exactly what’s fueling the trend, since an increase in the availability of black clothing online predates the movement. From the third quarter of 2014 to the same time in 2017, Edited found that black clothing for women grew substantially at a number of fast-fashion brands—by 269% at Boohoo, 145% at Zara, 114% at H&M, and 89% at Forever 21. Katie Smith, the firm’s retail analysis & insights director, attributed it to the brands “using black to try and establish longevity of their ranges, and appeal to a wider customer base.” The numbers speak to the breadth and endurance of black’s appeal. It works with every skin tone, every body type, and is generally a safe choice for a purchase—because even if demand for it ebbs, it never goes out of style. AP PHOTO/FRANCOIS MORI Naomi Campbell in classic black on the Louis Vuitton fall-winter 2018 runway. A cultural history There’s no official start to the modern popularity of black in European and American women’s fashion. Historically it’s been a signifier of grief, dating back to at least the ancient Greeks. But it has also been widely coveted for its appearance. In his book The Story of Black, critic John Harvey notes that, though the Romans principally dyed clothing black for mourning, there are indications they prized it for its stylishness. In the 16th century, there was a vogue for black clothing—then notoriously expensive (pdf)—among Europe’s wealthy, from Spanish nobility in the south to Dutch merchants in the north. But a convenient turning point in black’s more recent reign arrived around the early 20th century. That, Harvey writes, is when black “came to centre stage.” The spotlight fell squarely on it in 1926, with the introduction of Chanel’s famed little black dress. THE MUSEUM OF MODERN ART/MARTIN SECK An array of Little Black Dresses from the Museum of Modern Art’s “Items: Is Fashion Modern?” exhibit. Just prior to that period, black was the standard uniform color for domestic servants and the “shopgirls” who staffed retail shop floors. Social norms, however, were losing their trappings of formality. Sportswear was beginning its rise, and hemlines already climbing higher, as young society women moved away from eras of lavish, restrictive gowns. Shelley Puhak describes in The Atlantic how the upper classes co-opted the easy, modern shopgirl style for themselves. “By the early 1900s, socialites who wanted to appear especially youthful and edgy donned little black dresses,” she writes. When Vogue put a sketch of Chanel’s simple, practical black dress on its cover in 1926, calling it “The Ford” of a woman’s wardrobe, it seemed to make official a new era in women’s clothing. It also promoted black as smart, elegant, attractive. AFP/GETTY IMAGES Coco Chanel lounging in black in 1944. In addition to fashion, black had another powerful force helping it to stand out: film. “The other great promoter of the Little Black Dress was the camera, especially the movie camera,” art and costume historian Anne Hollander wrote in her excellent 1984 essay (pdf). A novel world of entertainment, romance, and movie stars was opening up to an eager public—all in black-and-white. The brilliance of black Black’s effect on the eye gives it an irresistible visual appeal. “A black dress seems to make the body neater and smaller and to unify the parts,” Hollander declares. “Since many bodies are not slim and lack either perfect harmony or absolute coordination, a black dress can help give them that delicious resemblance to a stretch limousine that seems so desirable in the present fashion climate.” Yet black has a remarkable tendency to be distinctive without overshadowing the wearer, in a sense amplifying the person. Hollander points to a scene in Anna Karenina, where Anna attends a ball. Tolstoy describes another woman, Kitty, remarking on her black gown. She realizes that Anna could not have worn lilac, that she was most alluring when she stood out from her clothing. “And the black dress with luxurious lace was not seen on her;” Tolstoy writes, “it was just a frame, and only was she seen.” While it’s not exactly analogous, a recent study of male birds-of-paradise reveals an intriguingly similar power in their black plumage. The birds are well-known for their bobbing courtship dance, but according to the researchers, it’s actually their coloring that determines their success in mating. The mostly black birds raise their wings to form a light-absorbing field, causing their other colors to appear all the more brilliant. “The juxtaposition of darkest black and colors create to bird and human eyes what is essentially an evolved optical illusion,” explained Harvard University evolutionary biologist Dakota McCoy. “This study shows us that black makes us glow.” On male humans, black is often seen as dignified and levelheaded. In his Book of the Courtier, a sort of guide to life in the aristocratic courts of Renaissance Italy, Count Baldassare Castiglione states that black is the preferred color for a man, or at least something dark. Harvey points out in The Story of Black that black has been the standard for men’s evening wear since the 1810s, in large part thanks to the advocacy of Beau Brummell. The name may be familiar to some men. He’s widely considered the inventor of the modern men’s suit and a sort of founding father of contemporary menswear. AP PHOTO Sean Connery on the set of the James Bond movie “You Only Live Twice” in 1966. Black’s hold on high-fashion AP PHOTO A black chiffon cocktail dress from Balenciaga shown in 1957. In the decades since Chanel’s compact black number graced Vogue‘s cover, numerous designers have adopted and elevated black for their own purposes. Cristóbal Balenciaga used it for his elegant, architectural silhouettes, and Yves Saint Laurent for his androgynous “le smoking” women’s tuxedo. In the latter half of the 20th century, it became closely linked to fringe groups and rebellion. Bikers and beatniks donned black. Then, the Japanese design wave of Issey Miyake, Yohji Yamamoto, and Rei Kawakubo of Comme des Garçons made a new art form of the black look. Fashion journalist Suzy Menkes asked Yamamoto what was behind his well-known predilection for black in a 2000 interview for the International Herald Tribune. Yamamoto’s response has evidently summed up the feelings of black’s devotees so well that it has circulated for some time on social networks such as Tumblr and Instagram. ”Black is modest and arrogant at the same time,” he said. “Black is lazy and easy — but mysterious….Black can swallow light, or make things look sharp. But above all black says this: ‘I don’t bother you — don’t bother me!'” Given black’s adaptability and allure, it’s little wonder it remains a popular choice for all sorts of styles today. Black-obsessed artisanal menswear designers deploy it for their exquisite leather jackets. Designers such as Ann Demeulemeester have gravitated toward its romanticism, others like Balmain’s Olivier Rousteing to its sleekness. Black colors fancy cocktail parties, and goth kids match their clothes to their black eyeliner as readily as socialites thrown on black for a night out. By all indications, its attraction isn’t diminishing. We’ll be flying the black flag for years to come. Black In Fashion, Black In Fashion, Black In Fashion, Black In Fashion, Black In Fashion, Black In Fashion, Black In Fashion Read the full article

[arwenofrph]

hihi !! i know i’m really knew to the rph / rpt scene but i was really hoping to maybe get some input on which plot to do ?? they’re described under the cut and you can find the poll RIGHT HERE !!  tw: the following plots briefly discuss the subject of murder and death as well as the mention of blood

plot a : loosely based on the red queen series and the everless series

ever since the beginning, children have gone missing. It didn't matter if you locked your doors at night, or kept watch as your daughters slept; some way, somehow, they'd disappear. In time, it became a way of life. When your child was stolen, you blamed it on one of those creatures from your grandmother's old stories. You cried, you mourned, and you moved on. There was no time for anything more. And they, the noble Blue Bloods in their towering castles and pretty clothes, turned a blind eye to the misery that plagued their people simply because it was never their children missing. After all, what's a simple peasant girl's life worth? They ignored whispers that it was the Enchantress stealing away the children to drain the girls of their time and beauty to keep herself young and immortal. But that was only a nightmare, a scary story to keep your little ones in bed. The Enchantress didn't exist, never did. The deaths were simply the result of bleeders, preying on the vulnerable, easy targets. That was, until now. Five months ago, Elara Ululo disappeared from her room in Espea. Two months later, Maren Sansano from Doissa vanished during a ride with her guards. And if that wasn't worrying enough━ three weeks ago, Allynna Demito of Celygus went missing while her own brother was keeping watch in her chambers. Fear had finally managed to settle within the Nobles; tormenting them with the very idea that whatever this thing was that had been tormenting the poor, unsightly villages might even consider taking one of them. Will you survive in Dolos, and discover the secret behind the kidnappings? Will you be one of the lucky ones; and keep your time and blood long enough to grow old? Or will you fall victim to the darkness that plagues the lands and watch your time run out? There's only one way to find out.

plot b : an element - inspired plot drawing from original canon

The country of Silvera is separated into five kingdoms. To the East, lay the airbenders and the Kingdom of Wista; ruled over by the noble Joralei. To the West, is the kingdom of Meririwen where the waterbenders live. The North is the home of the earthbenders in the kingdom of Brerith, while the South is home to Calere where the firebenders live. And at the very center of Silvera, lay the home of the spiritbenders: Setta. Since the beginning of Silvera's creation, the five kingdoms have been at peace. Working together to ensure that all of their country flourished. They even arranged marriages between their ruling families. But all that changed when the heir to Calere, Prince Tarron Magdithas, was found slaughtered in his bedroom a mere month before he was meant to wed Neia Helenen of Meririwen. The window was found open. Broken glass was found around his lifeless body, and dirt at the foot of his bed. King Aubron Magdithas, who's mental state was already fractured, completely shattered and he blamed all the other kingdoms for the death of his favorite child. He's declared war on the rest of Silvera and will not rest until those he blames responsible are but a pile of ash and Silvera is nothing more.

plot c : loosely inspired by ever after high , the children of the storybook heroes and villains must attend school together but murder and secrets threaten the peace attempted to be made

In the beginning, there were two warring countries: Atria and Tamion. They were separated by a treacherous mountain range over two thousand miles long, save a single pass no bigger than ten feet wide. It was a road very few dared to travel, and those that did; disappeared.

Tamion lay to the left of the mountain. A dark and dreary place where the wicked and proclaimed-villains were forced to live. The sun rarely shone, the lands were barren, and what little did grow was bitter and never enough. Smiles and happiness were foreign there, and as their magic could not work; they were forced to live in squalor. It was a well-known fact that anyone in Tamion was a monster of the most devious kind. You were never supposed to trust anyone from there, and if you were unfortunate enough to meet one, it might be the last thing you do.

To the right of the mountains lay the beautiful Atria. A bright, wonderful place by the sea where all the fairytale heroes lived out their happily-ever-after. Things were storybook perfect there, with bountiful harvests, balls nearly every weekend and not a care in the world. Thoughts rarely strayed to their neighbors to the east, and if they did, it was met with a chill and terror. Unlike their neighbors, no one ever got sick, went hungry, or longed for anything. If anyone from Atria showed up on your doorstep, you could breathe a sigh of relief for no one from there could be anything but kind and lovely.

The two countries went on with great unease for many years; each deciding to leave the other alone and do their best to forget.

Then the sickness came. In less than a day, the fields in Atrion withered to dust. Within a month, their people had gone through the stores and were starving. Their closest trading partner would takes weeks to send assistance, and even what they could send wouldn’t be enough. The greatest minds came together, wizards and godmothers and fairies from all over Atrion tried their best, attempted to come up with any cure to the sickness that plagued their land to no avail.

They were lost. Until the Snow Queen spoke up with a dreadful suggestion. A Queen from Tamion known as Grimhilde, had a known proclivity for potions, curses, and poisons. She could provide an answer, and maybe even a curse, from the terrible infection that was one the verge of obliterating their kingdom.

Very few supported her proposed plan, saying that if anyone from Tamion knew just how weak Atria was, they could attack and win. But still the Snow Queen insisted, reminding their council that they could either keep their pride and cost their citizens their lives, or they could be the rulers their people thought they were, and ask for help. Even if it was from Tamion.

Lengthy discussions were had, plans drawn and ignored, before finally they all relented and their five most powerful, skilled rulers embarked on the journey to Tamion.

It took almost two weeks of meetings with Grimhilde to even consider helping Atria, for her hatred for the little princess who banished her and stole away the kingdom that was rightfully hers, had grown with every passing year. Yet eventually, with the promise of making things right by all those in Tamion, she consented to lend her skills.

But only for a price. Grimhilde wanted a chance at a fair life for her unborn babe; that none of Grimhilde’s sins would counted against the child. Or any of the children born in Tamion, for they were innocent of their parent’s misdeeds.

That night several deals were struck. Atrion would allow for Tamion to be one of their trading partners, and allow for a section of the mountain range to be removed so that they could reach the sea and sun themselves. Tamion would pledge to never engage in war with Atria, and come to their aid should they ever be in need. In addition, a place would built for both the children of Tamion and Atria, where they would all receive and equal education and then decide where they wished to live.

But perhaps the most important part, was the one Grimhilde arranged to ensure that Atria kept their end of their bargain. Eight children, each a child from the rulers of Atria, no matter if they were already born, was to marry a child from a ruler in Tamion. An attempt at peace, hoping that one day the two countries may become one and return them to true power.

They accepted, but only on the condition that the children were not to learn of their betrothals until they left T’Atria. Satisfied, Grimhilde provided a solution the next day, and within a week, Atria returned to its flourishing state.

As promised, they began construction on the promised school with help from both sides. It was built on top of the mountain range, ensuring that it was truly neutral and fell under neither’s reign. Named T’Atria, it was the most beautiful creation either country had ever seen and the children couldn’t wait to attend.

It was all anyone could talk about, and finally, it opened and it was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. Barriers broken, no one seemed to care about who came from where or who’s parents did what. They went off exploring and meeting each other, claiming others as friends and taking them with them as they took in everything T’Atria had in store.

For an entire season, it was nothing but excitement. A new adventure awaiting them every day.

But as anyone from Tamion could have told you, nothing good lasts forever.

Princess Rose of Escarla was the first to discover the gruesome sight the morning after the winter solstice, her screams so loud they woke everyone in the school. At the base of the main staircase lay Princess Aoife of Llyr; her body so badly beaten it was near impossible to identify her at first. And if that wasn’t horrifying enough, a message was written on the wall behind her in her blood; warning that this was only the beginning.

It’s been a week since her body was found, and the students are trying their best to move on. There’s too much as stake for them to just return home, too much risk.

But the threat of this murderer still being out there looms of the them, dark as the sky of Tamion. Will this mystery killer claim another victim? Will war break out when their parents learn of this treachery? What could have brought this on?

Join us, and find out exactly what happens after, happily ever after.

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here for some soft, Sunday Malex feels in the form of North (the lyrics aren't too Malex specific so feel free to apply to 911). Since North is about building a home together it's got some strong Malex feels and I think it can be read as them building a physical home together or the home they build within each other (they've always been each others safe space). Again, the lyrics have some lovely imagery including my favorite "a little broken a little new we are the impact and the glue"

I had every intention of bringing my computer with me to my grandma’s house and then I just...did not actually do that 🙄 and now it’s nearly midnight so I’ll schedule this to post in the morning but I’m so excited to talk about this one! The whole Land EP is great actually as proved by the fact that we have already talked about West and South and now we get to talk about North. 

So this song gives me ALL of the Malex feels (and don’t get me started on 911 and Buddie building their lives around each other, I cannot. How are they not canon yet?!?!) and I love the story it tells about the work and effort it takes to make a home because that is definitely the journey we are seeing for Malex.

I love that this starts with making a decision to call something home. It’s a choice, even when the storms come.

we will call this place our home, the dirt in which our roots may grow. though the storms will push and pull, we will call this place our home.

we’ll tell our stories on these walls. every year, measure how tall. and just like a work of art, we’ll tell our stories on these walls.

Catch me crying thinking about how Michael didn’t know what a height chart was and how he and Alex will absolutely do one for their kids. 😭😭😭

let the years we’re here be kind, be kind. let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide. settle our bones like wood over time, over time. give us bread, give us salt, give us wine.

Okay so, ages ago I listed to the podcast episode about how this song was made and apparently one of Ryan’s favorite movies is It’s A Wonderful Life. When the Martini’s are moving into their new home, Mary brings them a traditional housewarming gift. “Bread, that this house may never know hunger,  salt, that life may always have flavor, and wine, that joy and prosperity may reign forever.” I just love that this chorus is like a plea for life to be kind, to keep hearts open, and to have the essentials. It’s what I am hoping we see Malex looking toward in season 3.

a little broken, a little new. we are the impact and the glue. capable of more than we know, we call this fixer upper home.

with each year, our color fades. slowly, our paint chips away. but we will find the strength and the nerve it takes to repaint and repaint and repaint every day.

Oof oof oof. I love that you pointed out the line in this bit because it’s one of my favorites as well and is so so good for Malex. That just because things are a little broken, just because one of them made the impact, doesn’t mean they can’t also make amends and be the glue that fixes the brokenness. “capable of more than we know, we call this fixer upper home” is such a good mantra for them because their relationship is absolutely a fixer-upper, but they have the capability to do the work. And the second bit just kills me every time because it’s such an important lesson and something I think Malex is starting to learn and (if there is any justice in the world) will lean into as they work on being friends. Love is work. The home you build with someone both physically and emotionally takes daily upkeep, and that takes strength! 

let the years we’re here be kind, be kind. let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide. settle our bones like wood over time, over time. give us bread, give us salt, give us wine.

I just really love this chorus. It’s a request for simple but good things and Malex deserves some good and simple things. This music for this song is also simple just piano and vocals and strings and yet it sounds so full! It’s the perfect framework for these lyrics.

smaller than dust on this map lies the greatest thing we have: the dirt in which our roots may grow and the right to call it home.

This last bit is maybe my favorite of the whole song. Just the simple knowledge that in the grand scheme of things it’s so small, but the greatest thing two people can have: “the dirt in which our roots may grow, and the right to call it home”

[98prilla]

To The Dead

Previous 

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AO3

TW Past abuse, past murder, past violence.

...

It was Janus who finally found him. They’d been searching the house for nearly a week, trying to find where the spirit had gone, knowing he wouldn’t have gone far, was probably discombobulated and confused and afraid. But there were so many places to hide, so many places for shadows to coil unnoticed, and not even Remus, who had the most free range of any of them, had caught hide nor hair of him.  

 He’d been wandering, tugging endlessly at his gloves, when something caught his attention. A small movement, a small sound, a small flicker of something in the darkness of the basement, a small shadow of movement behind the radiator.

 “virgil?” He asked quietly, approaching slowly, trying not to scare the spirit with his presence. The shadow flickered darker, consolidating into a dark ball of void. He was having trouble maintaining a more physical form, not surprising, given how new he was to the astral plain of existence. “oh, darling. It’s alright, love. I’m here to help.” He murmured, crouching down a few feet from the radiator, not encroaching on the spirit’s space, trying to keep him from fleeing.

 “Who… who are you?” The voice was echoing and strange, like several speaking at once, speaking in a thousand different whispers that echoed outwards in a chorus.

“My name is Janus Perkins. I died in 1925. My spirit decided to linger here. I was a singer. A performer of the gilded age. This is where I died, well, this property. This house wasn’t here then. It was apartments, then. They got torn down not long after my death, well, murder. It was rather high profile at the time, singing starlet, murdered by jealous lover. Tried to frame it as a suicide, but he wasn’t all that smart, and left a ton of evidence. Still can’t decide who’s stupider, him for killing me, or me for loving him in the first place.” He pulled at his gloves once more, making sure they covered the deep slashes across his wrists.

 “oh. I’m… sorry.” He looked up sharply, Virgil’s voice coming out less echoing and more normal. His form had solidified somewhat, as well, the dark ball of void was gone, and now he was more of a solid, wavering shadow in the shape of his human form, though his details were still vague. He huffed, smiling smally.

 “it’s alright. I’ve come to terms with it, now.”

 “th-then why are you still h-here?” He paused at that question, thinking hard for a moment.

 “I’ve pondered that myself for years, now. I suppose I’m just not ready to go. I don’t want to leave the others.”

 “others?” The echo was back in Virgil’s voice, his form rippling slightly, fear destabilizing him, and Janus winced.

 “yes. I… there’s five of us, total. We were all worried about you, darling. We… I’m sorry. Whatever made you choose this, I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked, and he was surprised as suddenly Virgil was in his arms, form solid, shadows just barely dancing around his edges.

 “I j-just…I c-couldn’t… I couldn’t do it anymore… it a-all h-urt too much, I… no one c-ares anyway, no one… there’s no p-point…” He gathered Virgil into his arms, stroking his hair, Virgil’s face buried against him as he sobbed, clinging to his clothing.

 “Oh, lovely. Oh darling, I know. You’re not alone, though. Not now. Not ever. We were trying so hard, so hard, to get you to hear us, to feel us. We always tried to support you, get through to you. We’re here for you, darling.” He cradled Virgil close, rocking gently as his sobs started calming.

 “I’m n-not sorry. I sh-ould be sorry, I should r-regret it, I’m s-such a horrible p-erson, who d-doesn’t regret k-illing themselves?”

 “Someone who was badly, deeply hurt. It doesn’t make you bad, it doesn’t make you evil or wrong. You still deserve kindness, you still deserve love, you still deserve support.” He broke a little, at the soft shake of Virgil’s head. “the others have been looking for you. We all have. We want to help you.”

 “I’ll ruin it. I r-ruin everything. I d-don’t w-want to get inv-olved. I sh-ould just h-hide down h-here forever, r-rot away until e-veryone forgets I exist.”

 “why don’t you let them be the judge of that? Let them decide whether you’re worth knowing or not.”

 “they’ll leave. Everyone always does.” He sounded exhausted, and despite them being spirits and apparitions, they did still need rest. Moving and speaking still expended energy, though they didn’t sleep, really. More of a deep, trance like state. And the newest spirit’s fear and sorrow had drained him dry.

 “I won’t. May I stay?” He asked softly, teasing a hand through Virgil’s hair once more. He felt Virgil shrug weakly. That was good enough for him. “alright, love. Take a rest. You need one.” He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Virgil’s head, feeling him melt against him as he slipped into sleep.

 He took a deep breath in and out, before slipping them through the astral plain, back to their living room, in the spirit plain.

 It was odd, how the space worked. It shifted, based on their needs, it overlaid the physical location of the house, but sat slightly to left of it, in the realm of reality. They could still feel and sense what was going on in the physical location of the house, were still attached to it, but it was easier to manifest in this space, possible to interact with it. They could summon things to be used, hence Roman’s own sketchbooks and drawings scattered on the living room coffee table. They more physical of beings here, it didn’t expend so much energy, being here.

 Immediately, he settled on the couch, wrapping a blanket around the still shaking Virgil, resting his head atop his, relaxing slightly.

 “Janus? Where-“ He shushed Roman quietly but aggressively, freezing as Virgil shifted against him, before settling back down.

 “I found him. He’s resting at the moment, but…” he trailed off, looking up at Roman, a frown on his lips. “he’s so damaged, Roman.”

 “he must be. To do what he did… he must be.” Roman replied softly, sitting down beside Janus, just barely able to see a tuft of hair sticking up from under the blankets.

 “I wish we could have done something. I wish we could have stopped him. It feels so… useless, sweeping in after the fact. Like the world’s shittiest consolation prize. Oh, you’ve died, but you get all the support you could ever want, now that it’s too late.” His voice was sarcastic and bitter, and Roman sighed.

 “I know. I know, Jan. But it’s something, at least… at least he has someone here, already.” Roman said, and Janus winced. He’d forgotten, Roman was the first to haunt the property. Not the first or only to die there, but the first to haunt it.

 He’d died far away, miles away, fighting for the North, against slavery and oppression, despite originally being from the south. He’d always hated it there, hated coming from a rich family, hated that their wealth was built on the abuse and imprisonment and torture of a people, a culture. He’d done what he could for them, but it wasn’t near enough. So, when the war broke out, he fled North. He joined the union army. He fought for the people who had basically raised him, the nurses, the nannies, the maids, the harvesters, that died, were killed, were sold, he fought to his last breath to try and make right any ounce of the wrongs his family had committed.

 And then his spirit had found its way back home. Where the same people who had been slaves were now being exploited as ‘workers’. Gods, he’d wreaked havoc on that old house. He’d had so much rage, it had exploded outwards, slamming doors, moving shadows, nightmares that crept into everyone’s minds, that’s what had drawn Remus there and eventually forced his family to flee the property, selling it cheap to whomever would buy it, because it was cursed.

 Remus had taught him so much, about being a ghost, though he wasn’t actually a ghost himself. He wasn’t a human whom had died and lingered, he was a being formed from the chaos of the universe, a trickster spirit, of a kind, enjoying and reveling in the confused misery and chaos of others.

 Remus had still taught him about being a ghost. How to reign in his anger, to let some of it go, to contain himself so he stopped being the roiling, raging ball of light he’d become and remembered that he’d once been human to begin with. He helped absorb some of his negativity, some of his darkness, helped even him out to sustainable levels. They’d become close, quickly. But it had been a few long, lonely decades, before Remus. He’d been alone. And it had very nearly drove him entirely mad. He’s not sure how Remus had dragged him back from the abyss he’d been teetering at the edge of, but he had, and he’d never stopped being grateful for it.

 “Roman-“

 “I know, Jan. It’s fine.” Roman’s smile was tight and forced, but the sincerity in his voice wasn’t.

 Logan had died in a car crash, a professor in the 1950s. He hadn’t elaborated much more than that, had never found it necessary to. The details of his life were unimportant, now that he was dead.

 And Patton…

 Patton felt for Virgil more than anyone.

 Because Patton had been a victim of suicide, as well.

[troybeecham]

Today the Church remembers Saint Leocritia, laywoman, of Cordoba, a martyr for the Faith during the Moorish occupation of southern Spain.

Ora pro nobis.

Since the early eighth century, southern Spain was under the rule of the Moors. They were a Muslim people mostly from northern Africa who had invaded the Iberian peninsula, as well as Malta and Sicily. Cordoba in the Andalusia region of south central Spain was their capital. Under this Islamic rule, Christians were surprisingly not forced to convert, but they were highly taxed on all their properties. No disrespect (“blasphemy”) for their founder Mohammed was permitted, and anyone attempting to convert someone to Christianity (“apostasy”) faced the death penalty. Many Christians had moved north for safety, and the Christian population was, therefore, a small one, although Cordoba was one of the largest cities in Europe at the time.


Leocritia was a young woman who was the child of prominent Moorish parents living in Cordoba, born in the 840s AD. In 859 AD, after being taught the tenets of the Faith by a relative, she converted from Islam to Christianity and chose to be baptized. When her parents learned this, they were enraged and locked her in her own home to keep her from any further Christian influence. She wrote to Father Eulogius, a well known priest who had been elected bishop for his tireless work of teaching and evangelization, but who had not yet been installed as bishop at Toledo, asking what she should do. He advised her to be obedient to her parents, as she was a minor, but to look for an opportunity to flee north out of Muslim controlled territory. When she attended a wedding with her family, she saw her opportunity to escape, slipped away unnoticed and found her way to Father Eulogius. He was able to protect her for a time by changing her whereabouts regularly with Christians who shielded her from the Moorish authorities. One day, her location became known, and she and all who had helped her were arrested, including Eulogius. Both Eulogius and Leocritia were flogged and then put in prison, denied food and drink and offered their freedom if they would renounce Christianity. Both refused to abandon the Faith. Eulogius was beheaded on March 11, 859, and Leocritia met the same fate on March 15. Leocritia’s body was discarded into the Guadalquivir River, a river in Cordoba where numerous Christian martyrs before her had also been dumped. The Christian faithful secretly retrieved her remains, which were brought to Oviedo Cathedral about twenty years later. She shares a reliquary there with Eulogius, which can be venerated to this day in northern Spain.


In the years 851 to 859 AD, forty-eight Christians were put to death in Moor-occupied Spain (then known as Al-Andalus), all charged in some way with blasphemy or apostasy. They are collectively known as the Martyrs of Cordoba. Leocritia was beheaded on 15 March 859 AD after imprisonment, starvation, and being scourged, steadfastly refusing to deny Jesus.

Almighty God, by whose grace and power your holy martyr Leocritia triumphed over suffering and was faithful even to death: Grant us, who now remember her in thanksgiving, to be so faithful in our witness to you in this world, that we may receive with her the crown of life; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

[lisinfleur]

T&T - Chapter 04: Valhalla

Author’s Notes | I’m sorry guys. Sad chapter to come and I wish it was bigger, but mother Frigga, it is hard to write these days! Words | 2536 ⁑ Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, battle, violence, and murder.

Days have gone and a new moon has come. Ivar and Iliana were sharing that cabin for him to recover his tired and broken bones while working for that blacksmith. As Eldrich and Lina, they had experienced a life that Ivar many times rejected, but now, somehow, soothed his heart.

But after all, peace was a dirty word indeed: no peaceful time could last forever for people like then and in times of peace, Ivar had learned his whole life: prepare for war.

Remembering the projects and how the first blacksmith had it done for him, within a pair of weeks asking to receive his payment in material, Ivar was able to forge some new braces for his legs. Of course, nothing as strong as Kattegat's blacksmith could have done, but enough for him to walk, which surprised Rohan when he first saw the cripple man standing so tall.

"Who looks at you would surely remember that son of Ragnar...The last one," the old man said, causing Iliana and Ivar to exchange a pair of glares.

Sometimes she just wanted to tell that simple man the truth about them, but she knew it wasn't possible.

"I saw his braces once... Tried to make the same for me," Ivar said as Rohan was inspecting the iron around his thin legs.

"Well, you did it well. There are some spots that will probably hurt you, but if you don't use it all the time, then it may serve you well. I saw you were making this so I made you something," he said.

Walking into the smithy's store to bring Ivar a crutch.

"I thought you would need it. I never saw Ragnar's boy but I've heard the king used to walk around with one of these so when I saw you reproducing his braces, I thought you would want one of these as well."

Ivar smiled.

To walk around once again was the first step in his head: lift himself from the ground where Oleg and Katya had thrown his pride. But it was just the first step. He would need a new armor, so he started gathering the leather. He would need a new army, so he got a map.

Iliana wasn't blind to his movements. She knew he was trying to prepare. So, she started stealing some of his pieces of leather, treating them when he was working at the smithy and occupying her time sewing.

"Have you saw the leather I placed here, woman?" Ivar asked, looking at his box in search of the leather he had been buying. "It has been vanishing. What the heck are you..."

The sound of the leather falling near his body called his attention to the full vest she had sewed for him.

It wasn't black, like the other he liked. It wasn't as strong as the ones he used to have as a prince or a king. It needed some iron to make it stronger, but the base... The base was done.

He took it in his hands, observing the work she did.

However, her expression was serious.

"You intend to come back for them..." She mumbled looking at him.

Ivar sighed, looking back at her.

"They stole what was mine. She betrayed me and delivered my crown to that bastard. I worshipped her like a goddess and she made me a fool. I must show them my rage and take back what is mine."

Iliana sighed.

"Then you shouldn't be so eager... I've heard at the town that Kattegat is taken and so is Vestfold. Like you, King Harald had everything stolen from him and I don't know his fate. Some say he fled to Ringerike seeking for King Olaf's support. Some say he's in seek of your brothers in Wessex. Some say he died... But all of them are unanimous when they say the Rus are a potency that our gods would struggle to face. I even heard people commenting and comparing them to Jötnar... They're numerous, Ivar. You're just one man."

"I'm not a simple man!" he corrected her, annoyed, "I am Ivar the Boneless, woman! I'm the son of Ragnar Lothbrok and descendant from Odin himself! The gods' blood runs through my veins and I won't simply sit and wait as these men, Jötnar, Christians or whatever these Rus wants to call themselves, come and devour my homelands as if it was an extension to what belongs to them! Kattegat is my homeland and if Harald wasn't competent enough to keep his kingdom then I shall..."

"Remember you lost your crown first!" Iliana said, cutting Ivar's speech with a grunt, remembering him to lower his voice while speaking like that. "You might be a king, son of Ragnar, descendant of the gods, but you're here, a blacksmith, with nothing but raw leather to cover your skin! Time, Ivar... Time changes everything..." she said, looking at him. "You said she fooled you... But I also heard stories of Kattegat's queen since you were in England, avenging your father, isn't it true?"

Ivar sighed for an instant, looking at the leather in his hands.

It wasn't wrong. He had known Katya under the name of Freydis right after he had conquered York, beautiful York, now lost in the hands of his betrayer brother who was reigning in Wessex, probably unaware of what happened to their homelands. He could bet Ubbe had extended those greedy hands of his over the town or even given it back to the Christians for some stupid deal for shelter to that settlement it was said he was ruling in Christian lands. But his story with Katya wasn't so quick. She had gone years making up his mind, messing up with his thoughts, weakening him...

"She took her time to make you a fool and that what allowed her to go so far and win you... Time, Ivar. You have nothing to lose anymore. Your lands are taken, your crown is stolen, your enemies are spread, strong, and confident! Don't let your impatience drag you towards your doom!" she said, looking at him. "If they're North, then go to South. If they're East, then travel West. I know lands where your people poorly reached. Lands where your divine blood means nothing and your father's name is probably unknown. Lands, where a brilliant mind like yours would be the best treasure a man could have and a cripple who can walk, wouldn't be a miracle, but an interesting person to have by your side. You must think small if you want to build great," she said, catching Ivar's interest, but also, his suspicions.

"And what would I do in these lands where my name means nothing to begin with?" he asked, looking at her.

"Build it again where it won't reach your enemies' ears before you're strong enough to fight them one more time," she said. "Here you have weeks; there you may have years. Think about it, Ivar the Boneless, and you'll see I may be right," she completed, sitting by his side.

Ivar's eyes landed on the leather in his hands.

It was well done. But poor. Too poor. He could do better if he had time, and gold, and men disposed to fight for him. Better than sneaking into Oleg's chambers through the secret passages under the city to kill the king or die like a worm trying to reach them through ways he had taught to Katya thinking his beloved Freydis could need ways to escape in case of they were attacked. They could have changed the passages.

Or worst. They could have kept them, waiting for him to crawl under their bed to smash his skull once again under their feet and laugh over his final defeat.

Time, Iliana said... Ivar looked at her, leaning his head.

"For a whore and a slave, you're pretty smart, woman," he said, smiling at her when she crossed her arms.

"Let us say I'm not entirely dumb and I paid good attention to my masters' words when they were speaking of war with me wandering around."

Her voice sounded annoyed, but instead of going for her mood, Ivar giggled, caressing her face.

"That's good. I like how smart you are. I'll think about what you said and..."

A sound of something being broken outside called up Iliana and Ivar's attention and he pulled her down and closer to the bed. Maybe they wouldn't have too much time to think as he thought.

"What is happening? What are you doing?" Ivar heard Rohan's voice at the smithy and by the sounds, he could identify three invaders.

At the first moment, he thought they could be the raiders that were stealing Rohan before they came. Ivar moved his fingers towards his mouth, mutely telling Iliana to keep her mouth shut as he took his daggers, leaving the braces behind at the room - he was good walking on them, but faster crawling and he knew that. It was long gone the time when he would fight his father’s words: he had his own way to fight and it was no weakness. Instead, it would be pretty useful not to be seen until he was already inside the store.

For safety, Iliana armed herself with a dagger, keeping herself near the door, trying to see and hear what was happening.

Ivar approached slowly, hearing the men inside, messing around. One of them had Rohan against the wall, holding the old man as the others seemed to be searching for something. With a good look, Ivar was able to identify one of those men he remembered were hunting Iliana in the first time she stumbled over him... Mir, if he wasn't wrong. He was the one holding Rohan against the wall, angrily lifting the old man by its collar. The other two, men he couldn't recognize, looked like foreigners, messing around the smithy, probably searching for evidence of what Mir was trying to take from the old man.

"The whole town knows there is a pair here matching our descriptions and you're old, but not blind, old boar. Now, why don't you tell me where are the two that are living here with you, uh?"

"I told you my son is deceased! And the back cabin is empty!" Rohan insisted, causing Ivar's heart to ache into his chest.

He was lying to that old man... And there he was, lying to protect Iliana and him.

"Well, maybe I can take what I want from your guts after I cut your belly open, you old piece of shit! Those two worth a good amount of money and I won't lose it just because of an old asshole like you!" Mir said, ready to cut Rohan's belly when Ivar's dagger hit one of his men's neck, catching his attention for what was enough for the old man to kick Mir's belly strongly, escaping from his grip.

As the wounded man's gasps polluted the air, the sounds of battle filled the smith store as Ivar pulled the second man by its ankle, forcing him to fight for his life down on Ivar's field. However, it wasn't a simple fight. Ivar could recognize the coat of arms in the man's collar and sword and the cross that hung from his neck pulled out of his clothes by the dagger Ivar used to cut the man's neck. The Rus...

They were after him now.

Ivar could bet those hunters of slaves went to Kattegat as he thought and Oleg offered them money to find him as long as the slave they were searching for. Then, it mustn't have been so hard to find out they were walking together.

It was a mistake to stop there so long and Ivar would soon realize it would cost him dear: taken by old age, Rohan wasn't as fierce as he once was. Yet, he came back when he saw after his escape, Mir was turning to attack Ivar and turn that fight on an unfair two against one. Grabbing his son's sword from the wall, Rohan launched himself against Mir, causing him a big cut in his leg but ending up trespassed by the hunter's sword. Mir cursed the old man, leaving the store unharmed by the daggers Ivar angrily launched against him before dragging himself towards Rohan, lifting the old man from the ground to his arms.

The peace was dirty once again. Dirty with blood. Innocent blood they found out a way to spill one more time in their way.

With the cries of the battle over, Iliana left her hidden spot to find Ivar holding Rohan's body against his chest. The old man's last words spilling from his tired mouth.

"I knew you weren't a simple cripple... From the time I first laid my eyes on you, I knew there was something about you... Something more... Something special," he mumbled. "Weep not, woman..." Rohan said, looking at Iliana. "I'll find the ones who long ago left me behind. I'll see my son once again... I'll feast with the gods."

"You will," Ivar said, catching Rohan's eyes on his one more time. "And when you cross the golden doors, may my father receive you among his most loyal men, for you gave shelter to his son and you died with honor, old man."

Rohan's eyes glowed when his lips curled with a smile.

"Imagine, boy... My son and I... A simple farmer and his blacksmith father... Feasting... With the great... Great Ragnar..."

With this said, Rohan's body laid still in Ivar's hands and Iliana broke in heavy tears kneeling beside them. Ivar just slid his fingers through Rohan's eyes, closing them, laying the old man's body on the ground of his store. Feeling when Iliana hid into his arms, sobbing.

"I know it's hard... But we have no time to weep. Mir is still outside, wounded, but alive. We must gather the things we can carry and sell and leave," Ivar warned.

"What about him, Ivar? What about Rohan?" she said, "He doesn't deserve to lay for the flies!"

Ivar nodded. They packed what they could carry that was valuable, putting it in their cart. And Ivar took off the sword from Rohan's body, using Iliana's help to lay the man in the stone table inside the smithy with the two Rus enemies laid beside him, at the ground, faces down as offers to the gods and witnesses of Rohan's honor.

Iliana poured the oil she could find around the smithy store as Ivar laid the blade of Rohan's son in his hands.

"Enjoy the feast, old man. And tell my father to save my place beside him, for I'll recover what I lost and I'll enter Valhalla as a king, but when it happens, I'll remember to pour you some mead and serve the hands that once served me, for a man shall not forget the ones who heal his wounds with the same passion he'll never forget the ones who opened them."

Iliana and Ivar left the town into the dark night. Behind them the fire they left behind, consuming the store and guiding Rohan towards his deserved reward.

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[ffej16]

THEinc-HIM Daily Bible Meditation - February 17 - Full Text

FEBRUARY 17

PSALMS:  17, 47, 77, 107, 137

PROVERBS: 17

OLD TESTAMENT: 1 SAMUEL 5:1 - 7:17

NEW TESTAMENT: JOHN 6:1 - 21

PSALMS: 17

1 Hear, LORD, my righteous plea;

Give ear to my prayer, that doesn't go out of deceitful lips. 

2 Let my sentence come forth from your presence;

Let your eyes look on equity. 

3 You have proved my heart;

you have visited me in the night;

You have tried me, and found nothing;

I have resolved that my mouth shall not disobey. 

4 As for the works of men,

by the word of your lips I have kept myself from the ways of the violent. 

5 My steps have held fast to your paths,

My feet have not slipped. 

6 I have called on you, for you will answer me, God:

Turn your ear to me.

Hear my speech. 

7 Show your marvelous loving kindness,

You who save those who take refuge by

your right hand from their enemies. 

8 Keep me as the apple of your eye;

Hide me under the shadow of your wings, 

9 From the wicked who oppress me,

My deadly enemies, who compass me about. 

10 They close up their callous hearts.

With their mouth they speak proudly.

11 They have now surrounded us in our steps.

They set their eyes to cast us down to the eretz. 

12 He is like a lion that is greedy of his prey,

As it were a young lion lurking in secret places. 

13 Arise, LORD, Confront him, cast him down.

Deliver my soul from the wicked by your sword; 

14 From men by your hand, LORD,

From men of the world, whose portion is in this life,

Whose belly you fill with your treasure:

They are satisfied with children,

Leave the rest of their substance to their babes. 

15 As for me, I shall see your face in righteousness;

I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with seeing your form.

PSALMS:  47

1 Oh clap your hands, all you nations.

Shout to God with the voice of triumph! 

2 For the LORD Elyon is awesome.

He is a great King over all the eretz. 

3 He subdues nations under us,

And peoples under our feet. 

4 He chooses our inheritance for us,

The glory of Ya`akov whom he loved.

Selah. 

5 God has gone up with a shout,

The LORD with the sound of a shofar. 

6 Sing praise to God, sing praises.

Sing praises to our King, sing praises. 

7 For God is the King of all the eretz.

Sing praises with understanding. 

8 God reigns over the nations.

God sits on his holy throne. 

9 The princes of the peoples are gathered together,

The people of the God of Avraham.

For the shields of the eretz belong to God.

He is greatly exalted!

PSALMS:  77

1 My cry goes to God! Indeed,

I cry to God for help,

And for him to listen to me. 

2 In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord.

My hand was stretched out in the night, and didn't get tired.

My soul refused to be comforted. 

3 I remember God, and I groan.

I complain, and my spirit is overwhelmed.

Selah. 

4 You hold my eyelids open.

I am so troubled that I can't speak. 

5 I have considered the days of old,

The years of ancient times. 

6 I remember my song in the night.

I consider in my own heart;

My spirit diligently inquires: 

7 "Will the Lord reject us forever?

Will he be favorable no more? 

8 Has his loving kindness vanished forever?

Does his promise fail for generations? 

9 Has God forgotten to be gracious?

Has he, in anger, withheld his compassion?"

Selah. 

10Then I thought,

"I will appeal to this:

The years of the right hand of Ha`Elyon." 

11 I will remember the LORD's deeds;

For I will remember your wonders of old. 

12 I will also meditate on all your work,

And consider your doings. 

13 Your way, God, is in the sanctuary.

What god is great like God? 

14 You are the God who does wonders.

You have made your strength known among the peoples. 

15 You have redeemed your people with your arm,

The sons of Ya`akov and Yosef. Selah. 

16 The waters saw you, God.

The waters saw you, and they writhed.

The depths also convulsed.

17 The clouds poured out water.

The skies resounded with thunder.

Your arrows also flashed around. 

18 The voice of your thunder was in the whirlwind.

The lightnings lit up the world.

The eretz trembled and shook. 

19 Your way was through the sea;

Your paths through the great waters.

Your footsteps were not known. 

20 You led your people like a flock,

By the hand of Moshe and Aharon.

PSALMS:  107

1 Give thanks to the LORD,

For he is good,

For his loving kindness endures forever. 

2 Let the redeemed by the LORD say so,

Whom he has redeemed from the hand of the adversary, 

3 Gathered out of the lands,

From the east and from the west,

From the north and from the south. 

4 They wandered in the wilderness in a desert way.

They found no city to live in. 

5 Hungry and thirsty,

Their soul fainted in them. 

6 Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble,

And he delivered them out of their distresses, 

7 He led them also by a straight way,

That they might go to a city to live in. 

8 Let them praise the LORD for his loving kindness,

For his wonderful works to the children of men! 

9 For he satisfies the longing soul.

He fills the hungry soul with good. 

10 Some sat in darkness and in the shadow of death,

Being bound in affliction and iron, 

11 Because they rebelled against the words of God,

And condemned the counsel of Ha`Elyon. 

12 Therefore he brought down their heart with labor.

They fell down, and there was none to help. 

13 Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble,

And he saved them out of their distresses. 

14 He brought them out of darkness and the shadow of death,

And broke their bonds in sunder. 

15 Let them praise the LORD for his loving kindness,

For his wonderful works to the children of men! 

16 For he has broken the gates of brass,

And cut through bars of iron.

17  Fools are afflicted because of their disobedience,

And because of their iniquities. 

18 Their soul abhors all kinds of food.

They draw near to the gates of death. 

19 Then they cry to the LORD in their trouble,

He saves them out of their distresses. 

20 He sends his word, and heals them,

And delivers them from their graves. 

21 Let them praise the LORD for his loving kindness,

For his wonderful works to the children of men! 

22 Let them offer the sacrifices of thanksgiving,

And declare his works with singing. 

23 Those who go down to the sea in ships,

Who do business in great waters; 

24 These see the LORD's works,

And his wonders in the deep. 

25 For he commands, and raises the stormy wind,

Which lifts up its waves.

26 They mount up to the sky;

they go down again to the depths.

Their soul melts away because of trouble. 

27 They reel back and forth, and stagger like a drunken man,

And are at their wits' end. 

28 Then they cry to the LORD in their trouble,

He brings them out of their distress. 

29 He makes the storm a calm,

So that its waves are still.

30 Then are they glad because it is calm,

So he brings them to their desired haven. 

31 Let them praise the LORD for his loving kindness,

For his wonderful works to the children of men! 

32 Let them exalt him also in the assembly of the people,

And praise him in the seat of the Zakenim. 

33 He turns rivers into a desert,

Water springs into a thirsty ground, 

34 And a fruitful land into a salt waste,

For the wickedness of those who dwell in it. 

35 He turns a desert into a pool of water,

And a dry land into water springs. 

36 There he makes the hungry to live,

That they may prepare a city to live in, 

37  Sow fields, plant vineyards,

And reap the fruits of increase. 

38 He blesses them also, so that they are multiplied greatly.

He doesn't allow their cattle to decrease. 

39 Again, they are diminished and bowed down

Through oppression, trouble, and sorrow. 

40 He pours contempt on princes,

And causes them to wander in a trackless waste. 

41 Yet he lifts the needy out of their affliction,

And increases their families like a flock.

42 The upright will see it, and be glad.

All the wicked will shut their mouths. 

43 Whoever is wise will pay attention to these things.

They will consider the loving

kindnesses of the LORD.

PSALMS:  137

1 By the rivers of Bavel, there we sat down.

Yes, we wept, when we remembered Tziyon. 

2 On the willows in the midst of it,

We hung up our harps. 

3 For there, those who led us captive asked us for songs.

Those who tormented us demanded songs of joy:

"Sing us one of the songs of Tziyon!" 

4 How can we sing the LORD's song in a foreign land? 

5 If I forget you, Yerushalayim,

Let my right hand forget its skill. 

6 Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth,

If I don't remember you;

If I don't prefer Yerushalayim above my chief joy. 

7 Remember, LORD, against the children of Edom,

The day of Yerushalayim;

Who said, "Raze it! Raze it even to its foundation!" 

8 Daughter of Bavel, doomed to destruction,

He will be happy who rewards you,

As you have served us. 

9 Happy shall he be,

Who takes and dashes your little ones against the rock.

PROVERBS: 17

1 Better is a dry morsel with quietness,

Than a house full of feasting with strife. 

2 A servant who deals wisely will rule over a son who causes shame,

And shall have a part in the inheritance among the brothers. 

3 The refining pot is for silver, and the furnace for gold,

But the LORD tests the hearts. 

4 An evil-doer gives heed to wicked lips.

A liar gives ear to a mischievous tongue. 

5 Whoever mocks the poor reproaches his Maker.

He who is glad at calamity shall not be unpunished. 

6 Children's children are the crown of old men;

The glory of children are their parents. 

7 Arrogant speech isn't fitting for a fool,

Much less do lying lips fit a prince. 

8 A bribe is a precious stone in the eyes of him who gives it;

Wherever he turns, he prospers.

9 He who covers an offense promotes love;

But he who repeats a matter separates best friends. 

10 A rebuke enters deeper into one who has understanding

Than a hundred lashes into a fool. 

11 An evil man seeks only rebellion;

Therefore a cruel messenger shall be sent against him. 

12 Let a bear robbed of her cubs meet a man,

Rather than a fool in his folly. 

13 Whoever rewards evil for good,

Evil shall not depart from his house. 

14 The beginning of strife is like breaching a dam,

Therefore stop contention before quarreling breaks out. 

15 He who justifies the wicked, and he who condemns the righteous,

Both of them alike are an abomination to the LORD. 

16 Why is there money in the hand of a fool to buy wisdom,

Seeing he has no understanding? 

17 A friend loves at all times;

And a brother is born for adversity. 

18 A man void of understanding strikes hands,

And becomes collateral in the presence of his neighbor. 

19 He who loves disobedience loves strife.

One who builds a high gate seeks destruction. 

20 One who has a perverse heart doesn't find prosperity,

And one who has a deceitful tongue falls into trouble. 

21 He who becomes the father of a fool grieves.

The father of a fool has no joy. 

22 A cheerful heart makes good medicine,

But a crushed spirit dries up the bones. 

23 A wicked man receives a bribe in secret,

To pervert the ways of justice. 

24 Wisdom is before the face of one who has understanding,

But the eyes of a fool wander to the ends of the eretz. 

25 A foolish son brings grief to his father,

And bitterness to her who bore him. 

26 Also to punish the righteous is not good,

Nor to flog officials for their integrity. 

27 He who spares his words has knowledge.

He who is even tempered is a man of understanding. 

28 Even a fool, when he keeps silent, is counted wise.

When he shuts his lips, he is thought to be discerning.

OLD TESTAMENT: 1 SAMUEL 5:1 - 7:17

5:1 Now the Pelishtim had taken the ark of God, and they brought it from Even-Ha`ezer to Ashdod. 2 The Pelishtim took the ark of God, and brought it into the house of Dagon, and set it by Dagon. 3 When they of Ashdod arose early on the next day, behold, Dagon was fallen on his face to the ground before the ark of the LORD. They took Dagon, and set him in his place again. 4 When they arose early on the next day morning, behold, Dagon was fallen on his face to the ground before the ark of the LORD; and the head of Dagon and both the palms of his hands [lay] cut off on the threshold; only [the stump of] Dagon was left to him. 5 Therefore neither the Kohanim of Dagon, nor any who come into Dagon's house, tread on the threshold of Dagon in Ashdod, to this day. 6 But the hand of the LORD was heavy on them of Ashdod, and he destroyed them, and struck them with tumors, even Ashdod and the borders of it. 7 When the men of Ashdod saw that it was so, they said, The ark of the God of Yisra'el shall not abide with us; for his hand is sore on us, and on Dagon our god. 8 They sent therefore and gathered all the lords of the Pelishtim to them, and said, What shall we do with the ark of the God of Yisra'el? They answered, Let the ark of the God of Yisra'el be carried about to Gat. They carried the ark of the God of Yisra'el [there]. 9 It was so, that after they had carried it about, the hand of the LORD was against the city with a very great confusion: and he struck the men of the city, both small and great; and tumors broke out on them. 10 So they sent the ark of God to `Ekron. It happened, as the ark of God came to `Ekron, that the `Ekroni cried out, saying, They have brought about the ark of the God of Yisra'el to us, to kill us and our people. 11 They sent therefore and gathered together all the lords of the Pelishtim, and they said, Send away the ark of the God of Yisra'el, and let it go again to its own place, that it not kill us and our people. For there was a deadly confusion throughout all the city; the hand of God was very heavy there.12 The men who didn't die were struck with the tumors; and the cry of the city went up to heaven.

6:1 The ark of the LORD was in the country of the Pelishtim seven months. 2 The Pelishtim called for the Kohanim and the diviners, saying, "What shall we do with the ark of the LORD? Show us with which we shall send it to its place." 3 They said, "If you send away the ark of the God of Yisra'el, don't send it empty; but by all means return him a trespass-offering: then you shall be healed, and it shall be known to you why his hand is not removed from you." 4 Then they said, "What shall be the trespass-offering which we shall return to him?" They said, "Five golden tumors, and five golden mice, [according to] the number of the lords of the Pelishtim; for one plague was on you all, and on your lords. 5 Therefore you shall make images of your tumors, and images of your mice that mar the land; and you shall give glory to the God of Yisra'el: peradventure he will lighten his hand from off you, and from off your gods, and from off your land. 6 Why then do you harden your hearts, as the Mitzrim and Par`oh hardened their hearts? When he had worked wonderfully among them, didn't they let the people go, and they departed? 7  Now therefore take and prepare yourselves a new cart, and two milk cattle, on which there has come no yoke; and tie the cattle to the cart, and bring their calves home from them; 8 and take the ark of the LORD, and lay it on the cart; and put the jewels of gold, which you return him for a trespass-offering, in a coffer by the side of it; and send it away, that it may go. 9 Behold; if it goes up by the way of its own border to Beit-Shemesh, then he has done us this great evil: but if not, then we shall know that it is not his hand that struck us; it was a chance that happened to us." 10 The men did so, and took two milk cattle, and tied them to the cart, and shut up their calves at home; 11 and they put the ark of the LORD on the cart, and the coffer with the mice of gold and the images of their tumors. 12 The cattle took the straight way by the way to Beit-Shemesh; they went along the highway, lowing as they went, and didn't turn aside to the right hand or to the left; and the lords of the Pelishtim went after them to the border of Beit-Shemesh. 13 They of Beit-Shemesh were reaping their wheat harvest in the valley; and they lifted up their eyes, and saw the ark, and rejoiced to see it. 14 The cart came into the field of Yehoshua the Beit-Shimshite, and stood there, where there was a great stone: and they split the wood of the cart, and offered up the cattle for a burnt offering to the LORD.15 The Levites took down the ark of the LORD, and the coffer that was with it, in which the jewels of gold were, and put them on the great stone: and the men of Beit-Shemesh offered burnt offerings and sacrificed sacrifices the same day to the LORD. 16When the five lords of the Pelishtim had seen it, they returned to `Ekron the same day. 17 These are the golden tumors which the Pelishtim returned for a trespass-offering to the LORD: for Ashdod one, for `Aza one, for Ashkelon one, for Gat one, for `Ekron one; 18 and the golden mice, according to the number of all the cities of the Pelishtim belonging to the five lords, both of fortified cities and of country villages, even to the great stone, whereon they set down the ark of the LORD, [which stone remains] to this day in the field of Yehoshua the Beit-Shimshite. 19 He struck of the men of Beit-Shemesh, because they had looked into the teivah of the LORD, he struck of the people fifty thousand seventy men; and the people mourned, because the LORD had struck the people with a great slaughter. 20 The men of Beit-Shemesh said, Who is able to stand before the LORD, this holy God? and to whom shall he go up from us? 21 They sent messengers to the inhabitants of Kiryat-Ye`arim, saying, The Pelishtim have brought back the ark of the LORD; come you down, and bring it up to you.

7:1 The men of Kiryat-Ye`arim came, and fetched up the ark of the LORD, and brought it into the house of Avinadav in the hill, and sanctified El`azar his son to keep the ark of the LORD. 2 It happened, from the day that the ark abode in Kiryat-Ye`arim, that the time was long; for it was twenty years: and all the house of Yisra'el lamented after the LORD. 3 Shemu'el spoke to all the house of Yisra'el, saying, If you do return to the LORD with all your heart, then put away the foreign gods and the `Ashtarot from among you, and direct your hearts to the LORD, and serve him only; and he will deliver you out of the hand of the Pelishtim. 4 Then the children of Yisra'el did put away the Ba`alim and the `Ashtarot, and served the LORD only. 5 Shemu'el said, Gather all Yisra'el to Mitzpah, and I will pray for you to the LORD. 6 They gathered together to Mitzpah, and drew water, and poured it out before the LORD, and fasted on that day, and said there, We have sinned against the LORD. Shemu'el judged the children of Yisra'el in Mitzpah. 7 When the Pelishtim heard that the children of Yisra'el were gathered together at Mitzpah, the lords of the Pelishtim went up against Yisra'el. When the children of Yisra'el heard it, they were afraid of the Pelishtim. 8 The children of Yisra'el said to Shemu'el, "Don't cease to cry to the LORD our God for us, that he will save us out of the hand of the Pelishtim." 9 Shemu'el took a sucking lamb, and offered it for a whole burnt-offering to the LORD: and Shemu'el cried to the LORD for Yisra'el; and the LORD answered him. 10 As Shemu'el was offering up the burnt offering, the Pelishtim drew near to battle against Yisra'el; but the LORD thundered with a great thunder on that day on the Pelishtim, and confused them; and they were struck down before Yisra'el. 11 The men of Yisra'el went out of Mitzpah, and pursued the Pelishtim, and struck them, until they came under Beit-Kar. 12 Then Shemu'el took a stone, and set it between Mitzpah and Shen, and called the name of it Even-Ha`ezer, saying, Hitherto has the LORD helped us. 13 So the Pelishtim were subdued, and they came no more within the border of Yisra'el: and the hand of the LORD was against the Pelishtim all the days of Shemu'el. 14 The cities which the Pelishtim had taken from Yisra'el were restored to Yisra'el, from `Ekron even to Gat; and the border of it did Yisra'el deliver out of the hand of the Pelishtim. There was shalom between Yisra'el and the Amori. 15 Shemu'el judged Yisra'el all the days of his life. 16 He went from year to year in circuit to Beit-El and Gilgal, and Mitzpah; and he judged Yisra'el in all those places. 17 His return was to Ramah, for there was his house; and there he judged Yisra'el: and he built there an altar to the LORD.

NEW TESTAMENT: JOHN 6:1 - 21

6:1 After these things, Yeshua went away to the other side of the sea of the Galil, which is also called the Sea of Tiberias. 

2 A great multitude followed him, because they saw his signs which he did on those who were sick. 

3 Yeshua went up into the mountain, and he sat there with his talmidim. 

4 Now the Pesach, the feast of the Yehudim, was at hand. 

5 Yeshua therefore lifting up his eyes, and seeing that a great multitude was coming to him, said to Pilipos, "Where are we to buy bread, that these may eat?" 

6 This he said to test him, for he himself knew what he would do. 

7  Pilipos answered him, "Two hundred denarii worth of bread is not sufficient for them, that everyone of them may receive a little." 

8 One of his talmidim, Andrai, Shim`on Kefa's brother, said to him, 

9 "There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are these among so many?" 

10 Yeshua said, "Have the people sit down." Now there was much grass in that place. So the men sat down, in number about five thousand. 

11 Yeshua took the loaves; and having given thanks, he distributed to the talmidim, and the talmidim to those who were sitting down; likewise also of the fish as much as they desired. 

12 When they were filled, he said to his talmidim, "Gather up the broken pieces which are left over, that nothing be lost." 

13 So they gathered them up, and filled twelve baskets with broken pieces from the five barley loaves, which were left over by those who had eaten. 

14 When therefore the people saw the sign which Yeshua did, they said, "This is truly the prophet who comes into the world." 

15 Yeshua therefore, perceiving that they were about to come and take him by force, to make him king, withdrew again into the mountain by himself. 

16 When evening came, his talmidim went down to the sea, 

17 and they entered into the boat, and were going over the sea to Kafar-Nachum. It was now dark, and Yeshua had not come to them. 

18 The sea was rising by reason of a great wind that blew. 

19 When therefore they had rowed about twenty-five or thirty stadia, they saw Yeshua walking on the sea, and drawing near to the boat; and they were afraid. 

20 But he said to them, "I AM. Don't be afraid." 

21 They were willing therefore to receive him into the boat. Immediately the boat was at the land where they were going.

[jeogiyall]

𝐏𝐑𝐎. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒆𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝑶𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔

“𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘂𝗽𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲, 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆...”

♛⚓︎♛⚓︎♛⚓︎

Our story begins with the tale of four brothers.

It is a story that you may have heard often as a child; one your parents may have told you before putting you to bed, or perhaps you’ve heard it from caretakers and instructors as means of entertainment, a story to pass the time.

But our story is not truly meant for bedtime.

No, this is not a children’s fairytale; this is a story of how the great Kingdom of the Compass Rose came to be- a story of how brothers became kings, a tale of the creation of the four rose thrones.

♛⚓︎♛⚓︎♛⚓︎

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔢𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔒𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 ℭ𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔞𝔰𝔰.

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a terrible famine in a long-forgotten kingdom. For ages this kingdom, now known merely as the Outskirts, had been declining: the money had been running out, the monarchs had been turning corrupt, and the people grew restless and discontent.

So when the famine came, and families found it impossible to keep food on the table, it was no wonder a great flock of people left the Outskirts in search of food and stability.

It was the adventure of a lifetime for those who chose the journey out of the crumbling kingdom; and for a group of four brothers, it was their one shot at a new life- something each of them desperately craved upon the deaths of their family.

The brothers were Park, Kang, Choi, and Kim. After living through all they had seen and witnessed, they were more than happy to abandon the East and head West with the other adventurers to an unknown land. They journeyed on foot and on horseback for many days and many nights, until the youngest brother, Kim, fell very ill and could not continue.

The eldest demanded that they would stop traveling and tend to Kim until he was well enough to go on. So the boys took refuge in a small lodge built by fellow traveling families; what is now known as the Lone Gateway, which serves as the exit of the Outskirts and the entrance to our current kingdom.

The brothers nursed their youngest sibling back to health with care, but it had cost them nearly three months of time- and time was a precious thing when you were on a quest for a new beginning.

When they set out again, it only took them a week of travel until they reached a large settlement of those who had also fled from the East; and they were not prepared at all for what these settlers had in store for four weary and wandering brothers.

The boys had hoped to find a small village where they might get food and rest, a place to stay the night and share a story or a smile over firelight with new friends. Instead, they were greeted with spears and swords, drawn against them by power-hungry tyrants who were itching to start an empire of their own in this newfound land.

The brothers were poor and weaponless; upon finding all four pockets to be empty, the greedy settlers began to taunt and provoke the brothers in any way they could, binding their hands to poles with rope and holding them captive in the center of the village, where everyone could see. The tyrants lashed insults and threats upon the four boys well into the night; by the time the last of the tormentors withdrew, the moon had sunk low enough that it kissed the horizon in preparation for the coming dawn.

When it seemed as though all hope was lost, however, a stranger in the night slipped a knife between the bonds of the youngest brother and left the weapon next to his now-free hands. Kim did not hesitate to break his other siblings free- and with fire in their bellies and revenge on their minds, they scoured the village to seek out the tyrannical settlers.

The men who had jeered at them all through the night woke up early that morning in a frenzy of pain and blood, eyes catching only a glimpse of the brothers as they retreated into the breaking sunrise towards their next act of vengeance.

But when the sun set later that same day, the brothers were no longer who they had been when it rose. No, indeed- they were very much changed men.

This setting sun cast an eerily golden glow on a town left in ruins, littered with violent deaths and scarred survivors. The four boys paled with horror as they realized all they had done; and they threw the knife into the nearest river to dispose of the object, the guilt over their cruel revengeful murders making them all but sick with shame.

The brothers swore that from that moment forward, there would be no more war, no more useless bloodshed. And so they made an oath to establish their kingdom as one of peace and prosperity, ruled in four sectioned regions as part of one whole kingdom.

The eldest brother, Park, took the cold and mountainous region of the North as his throne. The second oldest, Kang, claimed the Eastern region for his throne; leaving Choi with the West, and the youngest, Kim, with the throne of the South.

From that day on, the brothers reigned over the land in fairness and tranquility, until the fields were overflowing and the towns were flourishing. They lived the rest of their days as kings of their four thrones; each brother married and produced heirs, and left a legacy behind for their region to live on.

But the youngest brother had never had as much luck as his siblings.

After the day he helped slay the rude settlers, Kim was changed forever- and not in a good way. He had transformed into a man of violence and rage, always feeling the need to even a score or start a fight. This would wind up to become the Southern Rose’s doom.

For it was his temper and his blind anger, passed on through his children and their families, that led to the eventual invasion and collapse of the Southern Rose Throne- ten years prior to where our real story begins.

𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔶𝔢.

♛ first 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞: 𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀

⚓︎ 𝐦𝐚𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦: 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇

✧ 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔 𝑛𝑎𝑣𝑖 || 𝑚𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑚𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 (𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝗈𝗍𝗐)

𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆!

𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚, 𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒚𝒔!!

-𝕒𝕣𝕚