#It's all Cyrene's fault

[starcurtain]

Detangling Mydei's Backstories Backstory?

My last post, casting doubt on 3.2's revelation that Mydei's immortality is deliberate on his part, led to some interesting discussion in the comments that definitely reinforced my earlier thoughts that the inconsistencies in Mydei's backstory are too numerous to be accidental. Star Rail is not known for its flawless continuity (Robin and Sunday's backstory, I'm looking at you lol), but usually the inconsistencies are not so overt, and repeated so many times, that they become central to the entire plot of a character.

So I wanted to refine my earlier theory a bit: I'm cautiously optimistic that there are enough signs that the inconsistencies in Mydei's backstory are deliberate, and that the Mydei of the current cycle in Amphoreus is actively experiencing an entanglement between two different timelines, without (yet) consciously recognizing the incompatibility of his own "memories."

When we work from the standpoint that the events of Mydei's backstory can be separated into two distinct timelines, the inconsistencies vanish:

The "Sea of Souls" Timeline

This is the most prominent timeline, and the one that appears most accurate for "our" Mydei. In this timeline, Mydei was thrown into the Sea of Souls as a tiny infant and spent the first nine years of his life there. This is confirmed both in the flashback we're provided early in 3.1, as well as in Mydei's voicelines and character stories.

After nine years, he crawled out of the sea (possibly motivated by witnessing Tribbie's "star" in the sky). On the same day (or very near it), he met with a band of Kremnoan exiles.

Whether this was a larger group already, constituting a small "detachment" army of exiles, or just started with the five exiled friends and Mydei then grew into a small army by picking up other exiles over time, is still unclear. However, at this point, Mydei makes no mention of returning to Kremnos and instead goes straight from "leaving the sea" to "living ten years in exile:"

This is the key point of inconsistency between the two "halves" of Mydei's story--either he lived in Kremnos or he didn't. We can handwave here and say "Yes, he returned to Kremnos with his friends and they just hid their identities, leaving Kremnos years later in a self-imposed exile," but the story gives us absolutely no indication that this realistically could have happened. Mydei never once mentions hiding his identity, changing his appearance, or living a double life in the city, and never explains how he would have had access to the inner city of Kremnos ("as befitting a crown prince") and the royal library, yet still go totally unnoticed by his father or anyone loyal to Eurypon, including Krateros. (There's also no explanation at all for why he would have wanted to return to a city ruled by someone who tried to murder him and where he would have had to live life under a fake identity just to get by, but you know...)

Instead, the game does give us several pieces of information indicating that the five Kremnoan exiles did not return to Kremnos after meeting Mydei:

First, Mydei's character stories confirm that Mydei deliberately hid his name while traveling in exile across Amphoreus, indicating that he knew he would be recognized by Eurypon/Eurypon's loyalists if he didn't hide his identity. This awareness suggests it is extremely unlikely that Mydei could have returned to Kremnos without being identified:

This also suggests that, at this point in this timeline, no one in Castrum Kremnos knew for sure that Mydeimos had survived being thrown into the Sea of Souls and returned. This is further confirmed by a memory fragment where Krateros says there has been a "rumor" that the leader of the exiled Kremnoan army is one who "defied death." Krateros alone makes the assumption that this could be Mydei and decides to defect to aid him:

This memory suggests two things clearly: Mydei was not living in Kremnos at the time Krateros defected, and the exile of all of Mydei's friends must have taken place before they met Mydei, years in the past, as there is no way an entire small army could have been exiled from Kremnos, with Mydei in toe, and not at all attract Krateros's attention until after they were gone.

The idea that Mydei never returned to Kremnos is further enforced by Eurypon, who did not recognize Mydei when he confronted him, to the point that he didn't believe Mydei was even Kremnoan. This suggests that Eurypon not only didn't know Mydei's true identity--he'd never seen him before at all, making it extremely unlikely that Mydei was walking around Castrum Kremnos, talking to Chryseus Leo, and reading in the royal library all under some false identity for years. Eurypon certainly wouldn't have been capable of exiling someone he'd never seen before from Kremnos, in any case!

Therefore, we can assume the series of events in this timeline is pretty straightforward: Mydei entered the Sea of Souls as a baby, came out nine years later, went straight into a life of exile with his five friends, amassed power and support for ten years, and then returned to seek vengeance on his father.

The only remaining question in this timeline becomes "When did Mydei join up with Okhema?"

I think, in this timeline, it makes the most sense for Mydei to have only joined up with Okhema after killing his father. In 3.1, Mydei confirms to Phainon that all his friends died before he was able to kill his father, and that none of them ever made it to Okhema:

Therefore, the final order of events for the more prominent timeline is:

Dumped into the sea as an infant, nine years in the Sea of Souls

Ten years in exile with his friends amassing strength and support

Returns to Kremnos, kills his father, and the last of his friends dies that day

Then he defects to Okhema, leading any of the Kremnoans willing to follow him there.

By itself, this story makes perfect sense. If this was all the information we'd been given, there wouldn't have been any gaps.

Unfortunately, we also have a whole other set of information that massively conflicts with these events, which can only really be explained two ways: Either Hoyo messed up (again) and really dropped the consistency ball when it comes to writing Mydei's backstory... Or there's an entire separate timeline going on. Personally, I'm leaning toward the latter, because there are just too many seemingly deliberate fingers in the story pointing toward the inconsistencies for them to feel entirely unintentional to me.

Therefore, I propose that Mydei's memories are actually getting infiltrated by a second, entirely different timeline:

The "Gorgo Lives" Timeline

From 3.0 all the way to 3.2, we're given numerous pieces of information that point to a wholly different order to the events of Mydei's life, contrasting the story that Mydei tells Phainon in the Garden. At first, these events seem scattered and nonsensical, contradicting the "main" timeline in too many ways to be anything but errors... But when taken as a whole, we can build a second coherent timeline out of these events if we make one assumption: There is a timeline where Gorgo lived longer.

In the second timeline which is intruding on Mydei's memories, there appears to be one key point of divergence: Gorgo did not die dueling Eurypon. Either she never challenged him to the duel, or (more likely) she was never successfully poisoned, and therefore it's possible she won the duel, allowing her to rescue Mydei from the sea.

Working from that possibility, a second complete timeline emerges:

Mydei was thrown into the Sea of Souls as an infant but did not drift there for nine years. Instead, he was rescued and brought back to Kremnos, where he was allowed to grow up in the inner city, with access to both Chryseus Leo, who served as his teacher, and access to the royal library, which he is proud enough of to call "his" library. He is able to lead Phainon and the Trailblazer around Castrum Kremnos even in its ruined state because he grew up there, spending enough time there to know the city like the back of his hand:

This is where we can slot in the inconsistent memories Mydei has of Gorgo:

(By the way, although Mydei writes this scene off as a dream, you can actually hear Oronyx's whisper play in the black screen seconds before this "dream" occurs...)

But okay, let's say this is just a wishful dream. Maybe this scene never happened. If all we got of Gorgo supposedly raising Mydei was this moment in 3.1, I might agree that it was just a dream (other than there being no reason to play Oronyx's sound effect there, but you know). However, in 3.2 they then hit us with this:

That's multiple moments now pointing to a timeline where Gorgo raised Mydei. Once is handwave-able--twice? That's deliberate.

In this secondary timeline, Mydei appears to have grown up as Kremnos's beloved crown prince, being warmly embraced by his people (at least until Kremnos fell into calamity). Apparently his days consisted of eating pomegranates, training for combat, playing with Kremnos's kids, and hanging out with his five friends. We see snippets of this idyllic life (along with his five friends appearing to be roughly the same age as him--something that likely wouldn't be true in the "main" timeline, by the way) on Mydei's long march back into Castrum Kremnos:

I know some people took this to be Mydei hallucinating or just wishfully imagining a life where he was able to be happy with his friends, possibly even some metaphorical "encountering the souls of the departed in a paradise," but I don't think this is true. Every single time Mydei phases in and out of this "hallucination," the visual effect and the sound effect of Oronyx are distinctly played--the exact same sound and visuals that play when Trailblazer activates Oronyx's prayer to jump between timelines.

Mydei himself doesn't seem to quite understand what is happening to him in this moment, as you can hear him stumble and pant as he repeatedly goes through flashes of Oronyx's power. You can listen to comparison video clips on the prior post I made about Mydei's backstory.

Furthermore, if we work from the assumption that these moments actually represent a rupture between timelines, then the rest of the inconsistencies can finally be cleared up:

In 3.0, Mydei says that his choice to leave Castrum Kremnos was not a forced exile but a "self-imposed" one:

And this aligns with what he stated in the Garden of Life to Phainon, that he and his friends "left Castrum Kremnos" to go into this self-imposed exile, rather than having never returned to Kremnos from the sea:

Furthermore, this also aligns with the angry NPCs in the past version of Castrum Kremnos that Trailblazer and Castorice travel back to:

Remember that this version of Castrum Kremnos was supposed to be occurring while Eurypon was still alive, so there is absolutely no way this line makes sense in the same universe where Eurypon didn't even know Mydei had survived. There isn't any way, in "our" timeline, that Mydei could have been both the "crown prince" of Kremnos for these NPCs and completely unknown to his father, the king.

These NPCs, furthermore, directly accuse Mydei of "deserting Kremnos," suggesting that Mydei was living in Castrum Kremnos as their prince, and then abandoned them to join Aglaea in Okhema, getting himself and everyone who went with him labelled as "traitors to Kremnos" in the process. None of this makes sense in the context of a timeline where no one in Kremnos knew he had even survived.

Instead, all of these elements point to a different sequence of events:

Gorgo lived, likely winning her duel and thereby (likely) giving her the right to save Mydei from the Sea of Souls and bring him back to Kremnos. He was raised by his mother as the beloved crown prince of Kremnos. Then, years later, as his father and Nikador both descended into full madness, Mydei and the Kremnoan detachment defected.

But what would have triggered this sudden need to defect after years of leading Kremnos as a well-liked prince?

The flashback between Mydei and Eurypon actually suggests a possible reason:

Apparently, at some point, in some timeline, Mydei knew about Eurypon's plan to break Nikador's divinity into separate parts and seal him away, harnessing the power of their titan for himself.

Yet the Mydei of 3.0 seems to have no idea about any of this, never able to give any explanation for how Nikador has degraded so much nor why Nikador is seemingly unkillable. Castorice, Mem, and the Trailblazer have to come up with the idea to go back in time to the past Kremnos by themselves, because Mydei never makes any mention of there ever having been a plot to break up and seal away Nikador's divinity, even when they walk past the very blades that did the sealing.

Finally, there's one last piece of conflicting information: While talking to Phainon in the Garden of Life, Mydei states that all of his friends died before the detachment could ever join up with Okhema and that all of their deaths occurred by the time he went to kill his father. But this conflicts with the NPCs above, who state that Mydei had already defected to Okhema and joined the Flame Chase Journey as a Chrysos Heir while his father was still alive.

This inconsistency is further reinforced by a memory fragment with Krateros, who confirms that Mydei had joined up with Okhema already before killing his father:

Putting all of this together, the complete series of events for this second timeline becomes:

Infant Mydei is quickly rescued from the Sea of Souls, is instead raised by his mother, and grows up as the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos with his five friends.

At some point, years later, he discovers Eurypon's plot to break up and imprison Nikador's divinity, and he and his friends and supporters defect from Kremnos as a result.

Either they go straight to Okhema (I'm inclined to say that "ten years of wandering" doesn't fit, chronologically speaking, into this secondary timeline) or they do wander a bit, but ultimately, Mydei reaches Okhema and aligns with Aglaea before killing his father.

After aligning the Kremnoan Detachment with Okhema, Mydei returns to Castrum Kremnos to kill his father, possibly to halt Eurypon's evil plan to harness Nikador's power.

At some point in this timeline, presumably before Mydei returns to kill his father, Gorgo likely still dies (possibly killed by Eurypon and/or Nikador), which explains why the Gorgo in the Sea of Souls seems to be the one convinced that she raised Mydei.

And this is just pure personal speculation, because there isn't enough evidence to really confirm it, but I almost feel like we can even pinpoint how/when the whole decision to defect to Okhema took place. At the end of Mydei's flashbacks to the "peaceful" Kremnos, Peucesta says that Mydei has been away from Kremnos for a while.

Leonnius assumes that Mydei was away on some apparently extended training trip, but this moment specifically ends with Gorgo welcoming Mydei home and asking him one very important question:

Obviously these lines are doing double duty, symbolically welcoming the present Mydei back to the ruins of Castrum Kremnos and asking him whether he's finally ready to take on his role as the "Guardian of Amphoreus." But as the wiki notes, this takes place in a flashback to the past, and for the "Mydei of the past" (aka the Mydei of the alternate timeline), this could very well have been Mydei disappearing from Kremnos to make contact with Aglaea in Okhema, and Gorgo questioning him about his decision to commit himself to the Flame Chase Journey, leading up to an ultimate and permanent defection from Kremnos. (This is just speculation though, trying to tie the last few loose ends together.)

Anyway, when taken from this perspective, that there are two separate backstories here, one from a world where Gorgo lived and the more prominent one where she died, we can sort all the seeming inconsistencies in Mydei's backstory into two surprisingly tidy and complete timelines.

I haven't yet found anything in any Mydei scene that doesn't fit one of these two scenarios, so I'm starting to definitely feel optimistic here that this writing was intentional, and that the "contradictory" backstory we're seeing for Mydei isn't "the worst continuity Star Rail has served up to date," but instead an actual deliberate choice to present us with a character whose memories are a hodge-podge of two divergent timelines, snippets of one timeline constantly erupting and "filling in the blanks" of the other.

I think this would be a fascinating way to lead up to the idea that Amphoreus's world isn't real, that it's a cobbled together story or set of memories that someone is barely holding together, and that it's constantly cyclical in nature, with events repeating with slight variations across times. The idea that Mydei is actually experiencing two different sets of memories crushed together into a tangled jumble and that he's only just now starting to become aware of the discrepancies would be such an excellent way to reinforce the "unreality" of Amphoreus's plot as a whole.

I really hope this is the direction that they take the story... Or at least that I won't one day be looking at all my Mydei posts and sadly thinking to myself that I put a lot more thought into the character's backstory than his own writers did, RIPPPPP. 😂😂😂

Cope with me, people!

[sumiieon]

✦ Childhood Sweethearts ノ The childhood friends trope with phainon ⸝⸝ not proofread ⸝⸝ bad english ⸝⸝ gn reader ⸝⸝ may be ooc ⸝⸝ modern au ⸝⸝ wc: 3,2k chars

ノ Phainon, The Deliverer ⸝⸝ Oh where do I even begin with for this one. I have a gut that a childhood friends trope with Phainon would begin with Phainon getting introduced to you when the two of your parents are meeting each other (that's so cliche of you fleur woo-hoo......) ⸝⸝ "[Name], why don't you go play with him? He's the son of mama's friend, it wouldn't hurt if you two befriend each other. Who knows you'd get along with him!" ⸝⸝ And then before you know it, you now have acquired yourself a light-blue haired sunshine of a boy akin to a samoyed puppy visiting you anytime he can, waving at your window with that big stupid grin of his as if inviting you to play together (you could've sworn you saw his tail wag happily as he waves at you) ⸝⸝ Hear me out please: Phainon and you making flower crowns together with Cyrene. Once you're all done, you and him would then put your flower crowns on top of each other's head. Then when you're busy laughing and giggling, cherishing the moment, Phainon looks at you with eyes that just screams.. In love with you, he just isn't aware of it........ yet. ⸝⸝ From that day on, Phainon makes it a mission to make you smile or if you're feeling generous, a laugh that always makes him lose his composure. It could range from comforting and cheering you up when you're upset, to (unintentionally) doing something stupid that fishes out a laugh from you. ⸝⸝ Once when you're not around, Cyrene decided to give into her curiosity and ask Phainon the question every person in love always dread when asked. "Hey, you seemed so extra happy around [Name]. Am I missing something here?" ⸝⸝ I see Phainon as the type to at first be a little bit oblivious to his feelings when he has feelings for someone, so Phainon denied it and brushed her question off as "[Name] is just my good friend! Whenever they're around, I feel happier and they're so fun to play with. That's it!" ⸝⸝ That statement was partially true... If, only Phainon did not fall even harder as the two of you grow with each other. What was once an answer that stemmed from obliviousness and hesitance, now replaced with little denial as well as a pinch of embarrassment. ⸝⸝ "... You like [Name], don't you??" "Don't be ridiculous, Mydei. We're just best friends!" "You look like a lovesick puppy around them, nice try though." ⸝⸝ It's not Phainon's fault! He can't help it! He can't help his racing heart as he spends more time with you, finding each of your traits, features, and you yourself the more endearing the longer he spends his time with you! ⸝⸝ Phainon can't help the blood that rushed to his cheeks when you inched slightly closer to him (unintentionally, or maybe intentionally if you caught up on what his deal is). He used to be close to you with ease, so why now that his heart is making such a big deal and fuss over it?? ⸝⸝ The deliverer is aware that he can't possibly keep this bubbling feeling of his hidden forever, and he plans to confront them to you soon (hopefully you're prepared on a random evening when the breeze is blowing softly, and a grown light blue samoyed― except instead of his usual cheerful grin, it's a shy little smile with light pink dusting his cheeks― stands in front of you with his heart bare.)

© sumiieon ― please refrain from ; plagiarizing, ai usage, repost without credits ― positive interactions are always welcome!

[highwayphantoms]

hiii, happy dadwc! for oriana and cyren, maybeee “I’m pretty sure that’s not your job.”?

This ended up going in a spoilery and non-canon-compliant direction so.... oh well 😂 no regerts.

Veilguard fic for @dadrunkwriting

Words: 831 Warnings: Mention of canonical character death, endgame Veilguard spoilers

-

Part of her had hoped to never step through an eluvian again. Another part of her had wanted nothing more than to see the Crossroads once more. But now that she had passed through an eluvian and walked the Crossroads to reach Minrathous and meet the young man who’d wound up at the head of the fight to stop Solas before he brought ruin to all of Thedas… well. She felt bad for him. He was about the same age she’d been when she’d first gone south across the Waking Sea—and one blighted magister was not nearly as dangerous as two blighted gods.

She was still trying to wrap her head around that one. It shouldn’t be so hard, not when she knew who Solas really was, what he was truly capable of—yet it seemed so unreal.

Worse, it felt like the whole mess was her own fault. She might have been able to stop Solas before he began, if she’d paid closer attention. If she’d been there, Varric might have survived to tell the tale like only he could do.

“Ori, stop,” Cyren said, fixing her with a stern look. The last seven years had taken their toll on both of them: his hair was now fully silver and the lines on his face were growing deeper, while her dark curls were now streaked through with steel. Still, for all the upheaval and general chaos, she could tell Minrathous had been good to him. Better than she might have hoped, for certain.

She frowned back at him, taking a deliberate sip of her tea before she replied, “Stop what?”

“I saw the way you looked at Rook. You don’t think he’s up to the task.”

“I don’t think anyone is,” she countered. “This is an impossible fight. You can’t tell me you don’t see that.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Far be it from me to tell you what to do—”

“Hah.”

“—but you’re too close to this. Varric was right to find someone that Solas didn’t know anything about.”

“Right, because that worked so well for him,” she said, sourly. In those first days in Haven, when she’d been alone and hurting, Varric had been a friendly face amongst a sea of shems. Someone who treated her like a person, rather than a threat or a prophet or whatever else they’d gotten into their heads. To know that he had died at the hands of the other person who’d been kind to her in those early days was… It was difficult. How could the same man who’d saved her life so many times been so quick to cut down someone who’d called him friend?

“Varric knew the risks,” Cyren said gently. “Besides, you have your hands full in the south, don’t you?”

Oriana shrugged helplessly. “Hawke and Mahariel have things under control. For now, at least. I’m just getting in their way, if I’m honest.”

“I very much doubt that,” he replied.

“I would be more useful to Rook than I am to them,” she said firmly. “I knew Solas better than Varric or Harding ever did.”

He sighed and folded his hands together in his lap. After a moment or two, Cyren said, “I am pretty sure that’s not what Rook meant when he asked for any help you could give.”

“I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t. Ori, you’ll just get yourself killed. I refuse to just stand back and watch that happen.”

“Might I suggest a compromise?” Morrigan said. Neither of them had noticed her approach; the last Oriana had known, she’d been lingering by the front door to ensure no one slipped in. “One of Hawke’s companions is also in possession of an eluvian. If I were to give you the key to this eluvian, you might pass freely between Kirkwall and the Crossroads.”

Oriana paused to consider this, while Cyren said, “I fail to see how that is a compromise.”

Morrigan smiled wryly. “None of us shall be spared should the Evanuris succeed in their plans. The Crossroads provide an escape route.”

“And what would you want in exchange?” Oriana finally asked.

“A small favor,” Morrigan said. “I imagine you recall my son, Kieran.”

“He is… difficult to forget,” Oriana remarked. A strange little boy with strange dark eyes that saw far too much. After a moment, she realized—he’d be a young adult now. No doubt he was taller than she was now.

“He is in Amaranthine, with the Wardens. I did not dare bring him here, where he might draw the attention of the Evanuris. If you would check in on him from time to time for me… I would appreciate it.”

“For the record, I still think you’re better off staying as far away from all of this as you can, Ori.”

She offered Cyren a small smile. “I know.” Then glancing back at Morrigan, she nodded and said, “I can do that. Thank you.”

[kits-shrine]

Apollo laughed warmly. "Think nothing of it," he smirked, winking at Cyrene in a play-along gesture. I'll get it. It's my fault you were so distracted after all. " He scooped up her phone and placed it back on the table.

"You think so?" she asked in flustered amusement, half sure he'd hung up the phone taking mercy on her poor self.

[raving-raven-writing]

10, 13, 14, 47 for the ask game 🥰

Thank you for the ask anon! Sorry it took a bit to answer. 10. Most popular fic by hits you posted this year? That would be my one shot fic for Avatar (TWoW) titled "That's Not Your Fault". It is bit of darker story since there is content in which Spider was assaulted, but it has a nice/sweet ending. 13. Your personal favorite fic you read this year? I've read way too many stories this year to pull out just one favorite. But I really enjoyed reading Blood is Thicker Than Water, Cabin in the Woods, and Little Lion Man. Those are some that I could read through in one sitting, no problem. 14. Your personal favorite fic you posted this year? A favorite that I've posted this year? Hmm, well, I like all the Avatar stories I posted. I don't know if I have a just one favorite. I really like the one shot I wrote of Spider sleepwalking. And I also like the Western AU I got going on and my modern AU/street kid Spider AU. And also my story that focuses on Wainfleet and Mansk getting taken in by different Na'vi clans. 47. Shout out an incomplete fic you read this year!

Tabula Rasa by @mayfriend is a good one. Or the Cabin in the Woods series by @dumbass-tumbler-cryptid. Little Lion Man by @mist--walker. Or Custody by @ao3gobi17. Also, the story Blood is Thicker Than Water by @cyren-myadd. I hope I put the correct work to the correct name. If not, let me know.

[manganyeh]

Open starter (MASSIVE 3.3 SPOILERS)

Phainon just looks at himself heavy breathing leaving him everyone not everyone…

Aglaea, Anaxa, Cipher…

Mydei…

Mydei why him why him why him of all people if only if only he didn’t have to step in why Mydei why did it have to be him…

His hands were shaking Phainon simple stares at his hands with guilt sorrow everything what would he give to go back and stop this from all happening

Suddenly for the first time since he lost Cyrene tears fall down his face this was all his fault all of it

He shakes and his head falls into his hands as he practically sobs

“Why…”

[hxwthcrne]

@multiversalshenanigans asked:

❝ what would you have me do? ❞ (from Cyrene Snow)

It was a loaded question. They'd taken the Capitol, and at quite the high cost--- all those innocent lives lost, was it his fault? The girl that stood before him was prisoner, like all of her family. Coin hadn't shared her plans with him in regards to the symbolic games she was proposing to the Victors. Would he have said yes? Would he have agreed?

Coriolanus Snow would be executed that day. Gale had no doubts that his granddaughter was aware. It was quite the situation. And her question was a heavy one. Should Snow's granddaughter, a child, be held accountable for the actions of her grandfather? At one point, Gale might've said yes. But he'd seen enough of the Capitol now. On some level, he understood: They were pawns. They were kept happy and content and shielded from all the bad in Panem.

His jaw set a moment before he answered her. "Tell me your thoughts. Your real thoughts. That's the only way we can establish anything." Did she know what Snow had done now? Did she see the pain and torment that the districts had been through? Did she sympathize or see them as animals?

[narrowroadblog]

Good Friday: The Crucifixion and the Power of Sacrifice

Good Friday stands as a solemn day in the Christian calendar, marking the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. It is a day of reflection on the depth of Jesus' love and the magnitude of His sacrifice for humanity. As we delve into the events of this day, we uncover the profound significance of His suffering and death. The Trial and Sentencing: A Miscarriage of Justice The day begins with Jesus' trial before Pilate, the Roman governor. Despite finding no fault in Him, Pilate succumbs to the pressure of the crowd and sentences Jesus to be crucified. This miscarriage of justice highlights the innocence of Christ and the sinfulness of humanity, setting the stage for the ultimate act of redemption. Good Friday: A Journey of Suffering Jesus' journey to Golgotha, the place of His crucifixion, is marked by suffering and humiliation. He carries His cross, falls under its weight, and is assisted by Simon of Cyrene. This path, known as the Via Dolorosa, symbolizes the weight of the sins of the world that Jesus bore on His shoulders. The Crucifixion: Fulfilling Prophecy and Demonstrating Love Upon reaching Golgotha, Jesus is nailed to the cross and lifted up for all to see. As He hangs between heaven and earth on Good Friday, Jesus fulfills numerous Old Testament prophecies, including those found in Psalm 22 and Isaiah 53. His words, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing" (Luke 23:34), and His cry of abandonment, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46), reveal the depth of His love and the agony of bearing the sins of humanity. The Death of Jesus: A Sacrifice for All At the moment of His death, the curtain of the temple is torn in two, symbolizing the removal of the barrier between God and humanity. Jesus' final words, "It is finished" (John 19:30), signify the completion of His mission to redeem the world. His sacrifice opens the way for all people to receive forgiveness and eternal life. The Burial: A Prelude to Resurrection Following His death, Jesus' body is taken down from the cross and laid in a tomb. This act of burial is a prelude to the resurrection, reminding us that death is not the end of the story. Lessons for Today: Gratitude, Repentance, and Hope Good Friday offers several lessons for our lives today: Gratitude: Let us be ever thankful for the incredible sacrifice of Jesus, who gave His life for our salvation. Repentance: As we reflect on the gravity of His sacrifice, let us turn away from sin and seek to live in a manner worthy of His love. Hope: Even in the darkness of Good Friday, we hold onto the hope of the resurrection, knowing that Jesus' victory over death offers us eternal life. Embracing the Message of Good Friday As we observe Good Friday, let us embrace its message of sacrifice, love, and redemption. May the events of this day deepen our appreciation for the gift of salvation and inspire us to live in the light of Christ's love. In remembering His death, we prepare our hearts for the joy of Easter Sunday, when we celebrate the resurrection and the promise of new life. https://youtu.be/2Bquk4fwkj0?si=rPT0kRB6HrwjwtKe Shop now Read the full article

[lacklusterverve]

Tragic Sanity In A Bedlam

by Justin Minoru Leachon Luna

art by Han Baloloy

09/18/15 18:59

It was dark. The deafening silence pierced through the tainted walls of my bleak and gloomy room. Therein I heard the wooden floor as it creaked gently. It was as if someone was crawling, crawling towards me. The phase continued apace. It was getting near... nearer and nearer as the sound grew louder. Louder. Louder. The crawling’s sound grew clearer as if someone was crawling, crawling under my bed. It then settled while I was sensing further movement from the unknown source of the sound. I turned my head to check the window and the door, both were tightly shut—silence cloaked my dark-veiled room once again.

‘Tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock...’

Goosebumps then appeared on my arms, for the fact that the clock was broken.

‘Tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock...’

As the silence was broken by the mysterious ticking of the clock, I suddenly heard heavy breathing from the last location wherein the crawling sound emanated from. From how my ears perceived it, it was as if someone was gasping… croaking… dying.

The celerity of my heartbeat increased. I felt my heart as it rampaged within my chest, banging vigorously against my ribcage. I felt the momentum as my heart swayed like a haywire pendulum smashing the inside of my chest. As it felt like it was about to explode, the agitated pumping of my blood made my heart pound louder than the beats produced by a bass drum. My breathing then synchronized with the breathing under my bed. All was set: an orchestra of tick-tocks, rapid heartbeats, and heavy breathing. All the instruments were playing a twisted symphony. I was lying motionless, not until I heard a sorrowful cry, a cry full of suffering, agony, despair—the saddest cry that I have ever heard my entire life.

Fear consumed me as I trembled. But then, I did not hesitate. I moved at the side of my bed, I then leaned down slowly while trembling, I leaned down to appease my curiosity, to take a peek under my bed. Carefully. Gently. Slowly. Silently.

Just right before my eyes, I saw her, face down, a woman wearing a white dress with messy long hair—the source of the cry that seemed to me a sound from another dimension. I do not know what came to my mind, what on earth have I thought of? I stretched my arm to touch her, slowly, I felt a cold chill in an instant as she forcefully grabbed my arm; I felt her long, dark fingernails as they sank through my skin. She was pulling me as she raised her head, revealed her eyes. She stared at me as if she was staring through my soul with those eyes that seemed to me were the eyes of a demon. She opened her mouth wherein I saw a set of teeth as black as the night, then she let out a shrill shriek, “IIIIIEEEEEEEKKK!—”

“—AIIIIIEEEEEKKK!” Karla squealed that woke me from the nightmare that almost consumed me. I looked at the clock, and yes, it was time for her dose of thioridazine. Well, that was Karla's habit—she just screams, squeals, shrieks at the time, that very exact time when her medication should be administered. For me, as a nurse here at the Mistress Cyrene Psychiatric Center, it was a signal to initiate my daily chore of doing rounds to check the patients before the end of my shift; also, that habit of hers always wakes me up whenever I dozed off, saved me from nightmares.

"Pssst! Hey! Come over here," Shall called me as I was walking past her bed.

"Yes? What is it, Shall?"

"Remove this. This suit is killing me."

"But that straight jacket is for your own good," and so, I explained, "you misbehaved and harmed yourself again last time."

"This suit is for those insane. I am not one of them. I just need to scratch my body, my neck, my back—itchy, everywhere's so itchy! This is torture, can't you see?"

"But the last time I let you, you ended up hurting yourself—"

"It's not my fault! It's Rina's comb. It jumped to me and scraped my skin. See? Now set me free for a while. I promise I will not let that comb jump to me again."

"I'm sorry, but I can't unstrap you."

"No! This is madness! You sadistic, insane bit—nurse!"

Then Shall wriggled on her bed, suddenly she stopped and told me, "hey! You just had a nightmare earlier. If only I was free, I could have helped you wake up. I'll scratch you to wake you up—"

"Oh! Thank you for your concern. If you'll behave, I'll unstrap you."

"How can I misbehave? I've been tied up for like a century now, I've been behaving since then. So, unstrap me."

"I'll just scratch where it is itchy."

"Nurse Aya, come near, I'll whisper to you a secret."

"Okay then, what is it?" I then leaned and placed my head near Shall's.

"This is a secret... the secret is I'll tell you a secret if you'll unstrap me."

"Clever... clever, indeed. Okay, promise me you'll behave," and so, I unstrapped her straight jacket.

"Thanks! Here, I'll tell you."

"Ahmm..."

"The original state of consciousness is while we are asleep." Shall continued, "the real reality really is as we dream. We just wake up to gather data... information for our dreams."

I just sat there petrified, trying to absorb what Shall said. Next thing I knew was she was attacking me like a wild animal.

I was lying on the floor, blood was everywhere, on my uniform, on my arms. I did not know where was Shall, in my perspective, all I could see was Rina as she sat on her bed staring at me, grinning.

"Hihihi... you are bleeding, you are dying," Rina told me.

I was unable to reply... I just felt like sleeping, but as Rina continued, the words all seemed clear to me.

"Dying is better than sleeping. La-la-la-la-la. We all live to die. Hihi... have you realized now that consciousness is a curse? Ooohh! You are in pain. Why suffer? We all live to die. You must die now. Why wait? Eventually, you will die in the end as the unstoppable flow of time carries you gradually to the end of your existence—all of this will not matter anymore. Everything has no meaning. Even your existence has no meaning. Why do you live? La-la-la-la-la… you are empty, meaningless, insignificant—you are nothing. Life has no meaning. Hihihi... before you were born, you were in oblivion—do you not get the point that after you die you will go back to oblivion? To nothingness! Hihi. To nothingness—reality is nothingness, yet you, yourself, seek meaning, seek happiness... just to cover up the cruel reality that everything is meaningless and you'll die in the end. To nothingness—you live to die, you live to end up in eternal nothingness. You do not exist. You do not matter. You are not important. You are nothing. La-la-la-la-la... hihi."

Everything was dark—I was not able to see anything. But the scent... I knew the fragrance well—I was in my room. I reached above the headboard and turned on the lamp. As the light conquered the darkness, I could finally see my surroundings. Hazy, everything was hazy. My eyes were adjusting to the light. I closed my eyes.

I can't breathe...

I open my eyes, there she is again lying beside me on my bed, strangling me. I can't move. I'm about to pass out. Everything is fading. I do not know who she is, but now, with her hands around my neck, my life is in her control. I'll just close my eyes, close my eyes and perish.

“AAAAAAHHHH!” Karla's voice pierces through my ears.

I am lying on the bed next to Karla's bed. I'm a little confused right now...

“Oh! You’re awake,” Nurse Aracelli seems surprised, “how are you? You've passed out yesterday. You're wounded, and so, I've tended your wounds. How are you feeling, anyway?”

“I'm fine. How's Shall?”

“She's okay. Strapped up again.”

“I'm sorry if I've set her free. I'll just make a report.”

“Don't mind that. But be careful next time with the patients.”

“...about Karla's medication...”

“All's good, Aya. I already gave your favorite patient her chillax drug.”

“Eh? Diazepam?”

“Nevermind, but a thought came to me lately.”

“And what was it?”

“Having observed our patients and how society looks at them, they are the ones who have let go of the reality and sanity.”

“Yeah... and that means?”

“Not that I mean something, but what if, it's the other way around?”

“Like, how?”

“That we are the ones who are insane—that we are the ones swimming in the delusion of reality, but the truth is, our patients are the ones who are really sane and they have already found out the meaning of reality.”

“Aracelli, maybe...consider an appointment with a psychiatrist.”

She then leaves me, she has that blank face maybe because of the latter words I’ve said, eh? I'll just let her be.

I'm now sitting in front of Karla. She's motionless, staring blankly, drugged. She's the saddest in this room, there are times that tears just flow from her eyes. I know that her heart is as cold as ice, but no one will ever know the reason why she ended up at this very condition—the trauma, the torture, the suffering, the pain, the agony, the despair, the abuse, all her built up emotions that lead her here.

Lyra is walking towards me. This is a rare occurrence for as far as I can remember, she never talked or at least approached anyone. She is now sitting beside me, silent, just staring at Karla.

Rina is singing again. I really hate her fiendish laughs, her detuned, tormented songs, her songs always make me fall asleep.

It is dark. The deafening silence is piercing through the tainted walls of my gloomy room.

‘Hihi... life has no meaning.’

I am certain that I heard a voice, but no one is around.

‘Tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock...’ ‘What if we are the ones who are insane?’

I am confused right now.

‘We will all die in the end.’

I see shadows on my wall, “who are you?”

‘Our original state of consciousness is while we are asleep.’ ‘...in oblivion.’ ‘Tick-tock tick-tock...’ ‘Death is better than sleeping.’ ‘What if we are the real insane?’

“Please stop! Leave me alone!”

‘You are alone.’

“Lyra, what are you doing here?”

“You are alone.” Lyra said.

‘Tick-tock...’ ‘None of this is real.’ ‘Everything has no meaning.’ ‘Consciousness is a curse.’ ‘Eternal nothingness.’ ‘We are born dead.’ ‘La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, life is a process of dying. Hihi...’ ‘You are alone.’

I do not know what to do.

‘No need to do anything.’ ‘Everything is futile.’ ‘In the end, we will not exist anymore.’ ‘Death crawls on your back.’ ‘Everything you do is futile, nothing matters—only death.’ ‘Nothing is real.’

The voices in my head are killing me! I can't take it anymore!

“Please stop!”

‘Everything you do does not matter.’ ‘You are alone.’ ‘You'll die alone.’ ‘In silence...’ ‘Death.’

Silence.

That sound again, the wooden floor creaking. Heavy footsteps, and there she stood, the woman in white. She let out a high-pitched squeal, then she rushes towards me, her squeal is piercing through my ears and it is more disturbing than from those being tortured.

I cannot move.

Blood... I see blood all over the floor. I'm bleeding. She scrapes my face with her sharp fingernails. It is so painful, I can feel... I can feel my arms and legs once again.

“IIIIIEEEEEEEKKK!�� she shrieks once again.

‘You can't escape death.’

There they are again, the voices.

‘How will you know if the reality is real? Can you prove that others are conscious?’ ‘The way we understand things is based on our own perception.’ ‘Nothing's real.’

I am forcing myself to stand up... and yes, I am now on my feet again. I grabbed my violin. She's rushing towards me again. I strike her with my violin in the face, she falls on the floor. My violin is broken, yet I use the strings to strangle her. As I pull harder, the strings wrapped around her neck tighten. She's gasping for air—twitching, I do enjoy it as she is about to die.

Lyra emerges from nowhere, this she asks, “what if you are the only one that is sure to exist, and everything else—everything else is nothing but a creation of your mind?”

I utter no reply. I just keep on pulling the strings, and with the woman's dying breath:

[mintharaestermont]

"pass my apologies to the farmer, then," minty shrugged, clearly caring very little about any perceived insult. "it's no secret that all the best fruits come from the reach. not my fault if the riverlanders get snippy about it." she had the distinct feeling she was being chastised, and she didn't like it. cyrene frey's brother might have won himself a crown, but she was not her mother, nor her siblings, some of the few people that minty would actually reign in her more unruly behaviour for.

when minthara thought of the north, all that came to mind was shades of white and grey. she could not envisage anything growing there, no plant hardy enough to survive. but then, something came to mind, a piece of information she did not even know she knew. "you have the roses," she pointed out. "the blue ones. i saw them in your sister's hair at king jaehaerys' coronation."

Cyrene took hold of the little bundle before Minthara tossed them all to the ground. It was cradled in a careful hand while she sat down. "It is awful manners to bash the produce of any realm," Cyrene spoke. Nimble fingers picked one strawberry from the bundle, turning it back and forth.

"Things grow in the North." Her brows rose, as she sent Minthara a similar look to what she would ordinarily send Benjicot. Whenever he was saying something particularly ridiculous. "The things that grow are resilient and strong. Small dainty flowers have no place within the cold."

[ashilrak]

"do you remember when we first met?" in the context of perpollo reincarnation au 😊

Percy blinks familiar eyes open and all of a sudden, Apollo can't stop the words from pouring out, from ruining everything.

"Do you remember when we first me?" he asks, stroking his finger along Percy's cheek. "It's okay if you don't."

"At the solstice?" Percy frowns and his brows furrow together. Apollo reaches up to smooth them out. "Or do you mean when you took us back to camp?"

"No," Apollo sighs. "I mean the first time."

Percy's frown deepens and Apollo's very soul aches.

"Thousands of years ago," Apollo says, because it's too late to back out now. Below him, Percy tenses. "Before Hyacinthus, before Daphne or Commodus or any other name a scholar might recognize."

"I don't," Percy admits. His eyes are wide and shining with unshed tears and Apollo knows he gets it. "I'm so sorry."

Apollo leans down to press a kiss to Percy's forehead. "Don't be sorry, it's not your fault."

"Than who's is it?" Percy asks, ls if there's an answer to the question. "Why are you telling me this?"

And suddenly Apollo realizes this might be their end, right here and right now. Panic unlike anything he's known before is fighting to rise in his chest, but he's pushing it down because he can't let it show.

"Because I love you," Apollo whispers, voice breaking on the words. "I've always loved you, and I'll always love you."

Percy is shaking his head and pushing away. "Does that mean this is all meaningless then?" he asks. He shifts so he's kneeling, able to stare down at Apollo just a little. "That nothing you felt for me was real?!"

Apollo wants to scream. He gets it, sure. But he's never wanted anything more than Percy and how is he supposed to let this moment pass him by? Centuries ago he'd have surged forward, pushed Percy to the ground until Percy understand who he was rejecting.

But he's trying to be better. And this is Percy. Hyacinthus, Daphne, Commodus, Coronis, and Cyrene. And Apollo has always been so very weak.

"It's always been real," Apollo whispers.

He extends his hand out to Percy's but lets the distance remain. He's never seen those eyes so cruelly turned to him. It hurts more than he thought it would.

Percy stares at him, gaze never lightening.

Moments pass. Exactly 27 of them.

And then Percy grabs his hand.

// hit 'em where it hurts sentence starters

// percy jackson v-day gift exchange

[nosignalformiles]

once you're stripped clean, what's at your core?

Jay - Flimsy Conviction

Your confidence in yourself seems fairly weak. It's easy enough for your friends and peers to ask if you're okay, but what's the point? You're just going to say you're doing fine, you're doing alright, you don't need anything at all. Your selfless pursuit of what's important to you has stripped you dry, rinsed you clean like pork bones for soup. There's only so much to keep running from, and only so much to hold back until you explode. It's okay to not be okay!

Felix - Behind the Mask

You aren't slick about whatever you think you're hiding. Glass shatters in your midst, blood spills, children scream. Like some of your friends, your personality of choice is entirely artificial. The difference between you and them is that you can get away with it. You're unknown, perhaps even to yourself, and your goals are complex and unknown. Anyone stupid enough to fall for you s setting themselves up to be frustrated and confused, owing to your being ultimately unknowable. I hope you can find an identity that makes you comfortable.

Cyren - Warped Metal

It's not working out the way you want it to. No matter how hard you try to look scary, the very picture of karmic retribution, your efforts will inevitably fall short. You're out of place here, a broken doll and a used marionette. There's nothing to gain in pretending you can't be hurt like anyone else. There's nothing to gain in pretending you aren't human, that you're made of twisted steel and distorted memories. Embrace your humanity. Embrace your vulnerability. Give in to trust.

Issa - Spun Gossamer

The easiest thing to do s stay quiet when something's up. You're not bothered, and you know what? You shouldn't be! It's none of your business, even when it's entirely your business. It's difficult (red: impossible) to tell if your cheery demeanor is a cover-up for something sadder, or if it's imply your natural state of mind. You see a lot of things: people coming through town, people leaving the house and never coming back, lies and deceit of the highest degree. What happened to you? Will you ever be that kid again? Your presence smells like cotton candy, and your fingertips sparkle like stars. Whatever white rabbit you're chasing isn't going to lead you to wonderland f you don't start reaching out when you're not feeling okay.

Nish - Rippling Sunset

You’re the nicest person I’ll ever meet, probably. With an undying passion to protect those who can’t protect themselves, you’re energetic and bubbly to a fault. It’s cute, watching you run around trying to tie up loose ends. I feel bad for you — out of everyone you know, you probably have some of the deepest trauma, more than anyone’s aware of. This isn’t something that you want attention for at all, and you’d really just rather forget it exists at all… even then, it seems like you can never escape it. I wish you a pleasant rest of your life, full of rippling sunsets and free of prying eyes.

[9r7g5h]

Remember All - P6

Fandom: Xena: Warrior Princess

Overall Rating: T+ (Rating subject to change); Chapter Rating: K  

Genre: General

Summary: Given another chance, left with her memories of their first time through, Gabrielle knows there’s only one option for her- let Xena live. Whatever she had to do, whatever she had to change to make sure that would happen, Gabrielle was willing to do it.

Words: 3,826

AN: I’ve been getting quite a bit of writing done, so that means another chapter of Remember All! :D I hope you guys enjoy! Things are finally starting to get really fun!

Disclaimer: I do not own Xena.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, ???

It was easy. For a while, Gabrielle could almost forget what was to come- she could almost convince herself that this was all there was. Xena, herself, an occasional village that needed their help as they traveled. Just like it had been in their first lives, a simple existence with the woman she loved. No grand cosmic scheme she had to deny, no fates she had to rewrite- just the two of them and the stars as witnesses to their love.

For a while, Gabrielle could pretend. Pretend that she had done enough, had changed the course of their fates already, that everything to come would be different. But it wasn't. As much as Gabrielle wanted to believe she could change it all, she couldn't. She was just one woman, one single, mortal woman fighting for the woman she loved, and she had no control over the fates. She could only do as best as she could with what she had, and while she could change her own fate, change the fates of a few extra villagers here and there, perhaps even change Xena's fate, she couldn't change them all. Some things were just out of her control.

Xena still went mad. She still found herself persecuted by the Furies, and it pained Gabrielle to watch her like that. To see her stare at her with unknowing eyes, to realize there was nothing she could do to stop this. Even when she stormed off and called Ares-who, surprisingly, showed up- even as she stood there and glared, Gabrielle realized fully there was little she could truly do. At least, for now.

"Hey, don't look at me," Ares said, raising his hands innocently. "It's actually not my fault. The old man's getting impatient. He thought you would convince Xena to settle down somewhere, grow crops on a farm, or even become your personal bodyguard while you became a famous writer. Something to take her out of the game."

They both snorted at that- the idea that anyone, even Gabrielle, could turn Xena from her mission of finding redemption was absurd. At least right now; Gabrielle still, sometimes, had dreams about it. About Xena’s suggestion that they go to Egypt for one last mission and then settle down. It was one of two dreams that left her teary eyed when she awoke in the morning, tears Xena kissed away when she noticed them on her face, making her think it was possible, that one day it could come true. But not for a long while, if at all, and both she and Ares knew it.

It took an Olympian effort to keep from stomping her foot (perhaps the wrong word, since the Olympians seemed to always be having one temper tantrum after another), but Gabrielle still sighed and pursed her lips, her arms crossing before her as she thought.

"And there's nothing you can do to stop him," Gabrielle asked, chewing on her bottom lip in frustration. There hadn't been much for her to change these last few years; no, their greatest trials were to come, trials Gabrielle was sure she could change as she came across them. But everything before had just been. Not good, not bad- it had all just existed within this world, and to try and change too much could have destroyed it all. "I am working on it."

"I know 'Dite's trying to work him," Ares said, rubbing at his beard. "To give you a couple more years before he just zaps Xena with lightning to keep her from killing all the gods."

"Which she only did because you guys tried to kill our daughter." Gabrielle couldn't help the side comment, receiving a blank and curious look from Ares- she forgot, sometimes, that not all of the gods remembered as well as Aphrodite. She waved him on, clearly impatient with the delay. "Can you at least help with this? I know what will work, if you agree to play along."

For a long moment Ares was silent, his head tilted ever so slightly- a tick he and Xena shared, Gabrielle couldn't help but notice. Even though she didn't believe it, it wasn't hard to see how someone could think Xena and Ares were blood. And it was possible they were, even if Ares himself hadn't done the deed- the idea that Cyrene's husband had just appeared, only to disappear and come back a week later, while not impossible, was suspicious. But this was neither the time nor the place to discuss that, and so when Ares just nodded, Gabrielle laid out the plan.

Ares look disgusted, but after a moment he shrugged. "My own parents are siblings, so why not? I'll pretend to possibly be daddy dearest, and we can get Xena off the hook. For now." He disappeared in a poof of smoke, leaving behind the scent of warm iron and copper, and Gabrielle had to fight back a shudder. It was a familiar smell from the wars she had fought, the battles she had won, a scent she had gotten used to during those last few years with Xena the first time. A smell she hoped, this life, she could mainly avoid.

The plan went off well, mainly because Gabrielle did nothing to make sure it would. Xena, ever so clever even with her mind half gone, had figured out the strangeness of her conception on her own, had prompted Ares to grant her an audience with the Furies, and had even beaten him, just like Gabrielle knew she would. Angered at being used, the Furies had lifted their curse, freeing her, before disappearing to find and scream at Zeus.

Ares left with them- this time without some jab at Xena's affections for her, but instead with just a nod, a small form of recognition Gabrielle returned. They were comrades in keeping Xena alive while Gabrielle worked to change the future, and while they would never be friends, they would always be able to agree about Xena. When Xena had questioned why he had gone along with what she had said, only denying Xena's claims in an almost playful manner, Ares just shrugged.

"I know you're not mine," Ares said, his hand resting on his sword. "I've got hundreds of kids, and believe me- I know mine when I see them. But I do hold some bit of affection for you; watching the Furies destroy you would just be a waste. And I hate being wasteful."

He left after that, disappearing with the same sickening after smell as before, leaving her, Xena, and Cyrene to leave the temple in confusion as they considered the strangeness of the day.

"Do you think your father could be an Olympian," Gabrielle asked later that evening, after Cyrene had gone to sleep for the night; they had gone back to the tavern, Cyrene insisting on them not leaving without a good night's rest and some food first. "Maybe not Ares," Gabrielle clarified, "but one of them?"

Part of her wanted to withdraw the question even as she said it. Neither of them had broached the topic their first life, the idea too strange to comprehend, but this time? This time Gabrielle was a bit too curious, and it did line up. Xena’s skills, her ability to overcome death itself, keeping up and even beating Ares- it all begged the question that, this time, she had to ask.

Xena just shrugged, never taking her gaze from the flames dancing in the fire pit. When she gave no answer, Gabrielle just gave her a kiss on the cheek and went to bed, knowing she'd get nothing more from her warrior that night.

She didn't get an answer for three days. She'd learned to avoid the topic, both she and Cyrene had; Xena grew scarily quiet each time it was brought up, and determined to put this all behind them, they instead turned their attentions towards where she and Xena were going to next. For another day they stayed with Cyrene, a proper visit, before leaving.

It was the day after they had left that Xena finally just gave a little shrug while riding Argo. Her comment out of the blue, breaking a peaceful silence without context, though Gabrielle understood.

"I don't know. But does it matter?"

All Gabrielle could do was reach up and pat Xena's thigh, shaking her head.

"Not at all."

That seemed to release some of the tension Xena had been holding within her, though her smile was still strained when she glanced down at Gabrielle. A strain that, slowly, disappeared, though Gabrielle knew she still thought, was still curious, still wanted to know about the parentage that had been called into question.

For that Gabrielle actually had no answer, despite all she knew of everything to come, and so had to leave her to her thoughts.

Gabrielle kept close watch of the days, almost paranoid of the date that she honestly didn't know. Few peasants were learned enough to keep track of the exact days they lived, only aware of the changing of the seasons when they were too obvious to deny. Only the scholars and the priests seemed to care, in truth, of marking the exact day of the year that had passed. The former out of scholarly interest, and the latter just to make sure their offerings didn't go lacking.

But they were her lifeline, and even Xena had to make mention of her constant visits to schools and temples whenever they were near a city large enough to host them.

"Thinking of leaving me to join one of them," Xena teased lightly one night, her fingers trailing up and down her arm as they laid waiting for sleep.

"Never," was Gabrielle's immediate answer, and even though it had been said in jest, Xena couldn't help the almost relieved smile as she leaned forward and kissed Gabrielle, her answer exactly what the other woman had wanted to hear.

There was a reason for her attendance, though Gabrielle couldn't bring herself to say it. Even though the warning would do perfectly to fix what she knew was coming, Gabrielle couldn't. She couldn't even pull out the scroll that held the story and hand it over to Xena to read, because to do so would make things real.

At the moment she could pretend to deny the existence of Hope, of Solan's fate, of everything in the future to come that would take these tender, loving moments and destroy them. Right now she could pretend it didn't, wouldn't, happen, so long as she knew the date.

So with almost an obsessive compulsion, she visited every single temple and school she could find when they arrived within a town, checking and double checking and triple checking the day of the year they were living in. She kept track on the road, slowly counting down to the fate awaiting them.

And when the day came that they were supposed to meet Krafstar, Gabrielle made sure they never would.

It wasn't hard to pretend to be ill- all she had to do was remember their past lives, the first time they had lived through these events, and her stomach rolled. Rolled as she actively thought about the blood on her hands, of Hope growing within her, of Solan's body turning to ash on a pyre because of her. Painfully clenched as she thought of Xena's hatred towards her, of the way Hope had twisted so many minds into serving her, of the heat of the lava as they both fell. Twisted within her as she watched Hope and the Destroyer- her monster of a grandson who had wanted nothing more than a hug from his mother- fall.

Xena found her kneeling in the bushes, their breakfast puddled before her, her body shaking as she fought to breathe through the sobbing cough that had caught her. Deciding that it was some sort of bug (a diagnosis Gabrielle agreed with when she could finally speak, because to deny it would mean she would have to tell Xena what really sent her stomach turning within her), Xena carefully helped her to her feet and led her to the stream. Once she was clean, her sick washed from her hair and her splattered clothing cleaned and drying on a rock in the sun, Gabrielle returned to their bedroll, still shaking as the weight of the memories pressed in upon her.

It was only after Xena slid in next to her, a comforting presence as she softly sang and used a wet clothe to wipe the sweat from Gabrielle's forehead that she slipped off to sleep. A restless one, full of the half formed nightmares that threatened to destroy everything she worked for, but still sleep none the less.

They stayed in that clearing for two more days, even after Gabrielle protested that she was fine. She had just eaten the wrong thing, whatever had made her sick had passed, and Gabrielle was more than ready to go.

A true statement, because with their delay, she was free. Krafstar and the Romans who held him would have long since passed them, dragging that vile man towards whatever fate the Romans had for him- whatever it was they had in mind, it wouldn't be enough. It would never be enough to make up for the pain he had caused her, had caused them, for the evil he had helped enter the world. But it was enough that he wouldn't be able to cause them any harm, not this time. Not in this life.

In this life, Gabrielle was free. Free of the sins that had tried so hard to destroy her in their last life, a weight lifted that Xena couldn't help but comment on.

Gabrielle just laughed, laughed and smiled up at Xena as they continued on their way.

That laughter soon died, though, as Gabrielle thought. Thought through the events that had determined their lives the last time, now for sure just a memory. Without Xena arriving in Brittania, Caesar's men would continue to hold the temple, making it impossible for Dahok's worshipers to complete their ceremony. But without her, Bodecia was sure to fall. Maybe not right away, maybe not for quite a while, but eventually, she would fail.

By keeping Xena here, Gabrielle was sealing her fate.

And there was another Gabrielle had to keep in mind, now that she was changing the tilt of the world. Another life she held in her hands, another life that could be spared if she revealed to Xena her knowledge of the world to come. It would mean a long journey, a great deal of time to come that would change things more than she ever could have imagined doing so.

So Gabrielle told just as much as she needed, and left it up to Xena. Left it to Xena with a simple question, one that froze the warrior halfway through her chore of building the fire, making sure the flames would stay hot long enough through the night for them to use the coals the next morning for their breakfasts. She said those four words, her head tilted to the side, and waited for Xena to answer.

"Bodecia or Lao Ma?"

For a long while Xena just knelt there, the twigs slowly falling from her suddenly limp hand as Xena processed what Gabrielle had just said. And even when it became clear from Xena's face that she had heard and understood, still she remained still, her eyes never leaving the flames before them.

So Gabrielle asked again.

"Lao Ma or Bodecia?"

"I want to ask how you know those names," Xena finally said with a sigh, shaking her head as she continued to throw sticks onto the fire- not in the practiced manner she normally did, but this time haphazardly, her mind clearly far away from her task. "But let me guess," she continued. "Your dreams?" When Gabrielle nodded, Xena quickly finished the task before coming to sit next to her, leaning against Gabrielle's side.

She relaxed ever so slightly when Gabrielle leaned into her, her arm wrapping around Gabrielle's shoulder while her own embraced Xena's waist, holding her close.

"Did they tell you what those two mean to me?"

"Dream you explained," Gabrielle said with a small nod. "About Bodecia's army, about Borias...about the Green Dragon." Xena shuddered at that, her face twisting for just a moment at the reminder of her less pleasant memories. But when she said nothing more, Gabrielle continued, explaining her question before asking it once again.

"They're both in danger, Xena, and you can only save one. Caesar threatens to destroy Bodecia's forces, and the Green Dragon threatens to grow too large against Lao Ma. Who will you choose?"

Xena gave no verbal answer, instead just pulling Gabrielle into a kiss good night before laying down to sleep, her arm held out in an open invitation for Gabrielle to join her. She did, sleep coming upon them quickly.

And the next morning, Xena turned them towards the rising sun and set them off towards Chin.

She talked as they traveled, telling the story of Lao Ma and what she had done for her. Even though Gabrielle knew the tale, almost well enough to tell it herself-something Xena knew, when Gabrielle accidentally asked about someone Xena had yet to mention, resulting in Xena just giving her a wiry grin before continuing- it seemed to soothe her. Seemed to calm whatever guilt Xena felt for choosing Lao Ma over Bodecia, this explaining of what they both meant.

Bodecia had been a friend Xena had betrayed, that she had a lot to make up for. And they would- Xena had made it clear that, after Chin, they were heading to Britannia, to do whatever they could to help her. But Lao Ma had saved her, had placed Xena so far into her debt that Xena doubted she would ever be able to repay it in full. But she had to try, and so had easily chosen one woman over the other.

It was easy this time. When Xena suggested that Gabrielle leave, that she head to the Amazons while Xena continued on alone, Gabrielle had refused. She knew this time how things had to go, knew the path they had to walk, and so chose to walk it besides Xena, this time, instead of standing in her way.

This time already ahead of the game, they arrived at Lao Ma's city just as her messenger was set to leave, his pockets heavy with coin and the message he had for Xena. Recognizing him, his face burned into her mind from the last time they had lived their lives, Gabrielle pointed him out, and Xena caught him before he could leave.

Caught him and dragged him into their room at the inn, giving them the best news he could.

Lao Ma still lived, at least for now, and for now there was time to save her. But not much.

They bid their time, careful to learn everything they could in the short amount of time they had to do so. It wasn't hard- they so easily stood out in the crowd, Gabrielle especially, and the quick persona of a traveler just curious about the local standings made people easy. Easy to talk to- a mix of the local's broken Greek and Xena's broken Chinese allowing an interesting but steady line of communication, everyone on both sides willing to speak and be understood. Easy to get information out of- locals, no matter where they lived, were always excited to show off what they knew to those who knew not. From rumors to well known facts, the citizens who spoke to Xena were eager to share, almost bragging about their knowledge. Easy to get supplies from- unwilling to offend, no one questioned their strange purchases, in case they were for some foreign ritual no one present knew about.

The people within the city were helpful, some even accommodating, and thus they laid their plans.

It was easy to find out about Lao Ma- she was beloved amongst her people, and many were upset about her supposed claim of treason. It was simple to find out where she was to be executed- in the same place as all the political executions took place, in a part of the palace that a semi-drunk servant was more than willing to tell them all about. It was effortless to get a date, that piece of information almost plastered to every doorway to ward off those who would ever think to try and stand up against the Emperor again.

Sneaking into the castle through the servant's entrance, the two of them wrapped in dark cloaks and their faces shaded to hide better with the shadows, it was easy to find the room the servant had described and conceal themselves the night before, ready to wait for the execution to begin.

What was hard was standing still as the doors opened and politicians filled the room. It was hard to stand there as Ming T'ien passed, almost close enough for them to kill if they rushed him, more than close enough for Xena to take out with her chakram. And it was hard when Lao Ma, her head held high and everything about her ready to meet her end, entered the room.

They waited, ever so still, as Ming T'ien explained her crimes and proclaimed her guilty. They waited, ever so still, as Lao Ma was laid upon the executioner's block, her feet and wrists bound to keep her still. They waited as Ming T'ien himself stepped forward and took the weapon that would end his own mother, an almost smile on his face as he raised it above his head.

They struck before he could let it fall, the chakram splitting through the thick wooden pole so the ax head fell behind him, the unexpected shift in weight sending him to the floor. They struck as guards and politicians tripped over each other, none of them about to find where the attack had come from and none willing to wait for another to strike. They struck as Ming T'ien tried to rise, only to find himself with Xena's sword at his throat as Gabrielle released Lao Ma from her chains.

Everyone paused as Xena turned to look at Lao Ma, silently asking permission to do what needed to be done. To end the suffering of her kingdom, to free the people from the monstrosity that had come from her. To make the Green Dragon small once more.

Unable to say yes, unable to say no- because he was a monster, that was clear now. He was of her flesh, of her blood, but not of her soul, any goodness she might have been able to impart to him long since gone in the years after his birth. But he was her son, her beast of a son, and she couldn’t say yes. So Lao Ma just turned and walked away, only pausing when she heard the slick squish of weapon meeting flesh, and the dull thud of Ming T'ien's body hitting the floor. She didn't speak, only motioned for those who wished to to follow her, and she left to go back home.

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

10th May >> Mass Readings (EU NZ Aust Can SA) 

for

Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Eastertide

or

Saint Comgall, Abbot (Ireland)

Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Eastertide

(Liturgical Colour: White)

First Reading

Acts of the Apostles 12:24-13:5

The word of God continued to spread and to gain followers. Barnabas and Saul completed their task and came back from Jerusalem, bringing John Mark with them.

  In the church at Antioch the following were prophets and teachers: Barnabas, Simeon called Niger, and Lucius of Cyrene, Manaen, who had been brought up with Herod the tetrarch, and Saul. One day while they were offering worship to the Lord and keeping a fast, the Holy Spirit said, ‘I want Barnabas and Saul set apart for the work to which I have called them.’ So it was that after fasting and prayer they laid their hands on them and sent them off.

  So these two, sent on their mission by the Holy Spirit, went down to Seleucia and from there sailed to Cyprus. They landed at Salamis and proclaimed the word of God in the synagogues of the Jews; John acted as their assistant.

The Word of the Lord.

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 66(67):2-3,5-6,8

R/ Let the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you.

or

R/ Alleluia!

O God, be gracious and bless us

  and let your face shed its light upon us.

So will your ways be known upon earth

  and all nations learn your saving help.

R/ Let the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you.

or

R/ Alleluia!

Let the nations be glad and exult

  for you rule the world with justice.

With fairness you rule the peoples,

  you guide the nations on earth.

R/ Let the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you.

or

R/ Alleluia!

Let the peoples praise you, O God;

  let all the peoples praise you.

May God still give us his blessing

  till the ends of the earth revere him.

R/ Let the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you.

or

R/ Alleluia!

Gospel Acclamation

John 20:29

Alleluia, alleluia!

‘You believe, Thomas, because you can see me.

Happy are those who have not seen and yet believe.

Alleluia!

Or

John 8:12

Alleluia, alleluia!

I am the light of the world, says the Lord;

anyone who follows me will have the light of life.

Alleluia!

Gospel

John 12:44-50

Jesus declared publicly:

‘Whoever believes in me

believes not in me

but in the one who sent me,

and whoever sees me,

sees the one who sent me.

I, the light, have come into the world,

so that whoever believes in me

need not stay in the dark any more.

If anyone hears my words and does not keep them faithfully,

it is not I who shall condemn him,

since I have come not to condemn the world,

but to save the world.

He who rejects me and refuses my words has his judge already:

the word itself that I have spoken will be his judge on the last day.

For what I have spoken does not come from myself;

no, what I was to say,

what I had to speak,

was commanded by the Father who sent me,

and I know that his commands mean eternal life.

And therefore what the Father has told me

is what I speak.’

The Gospel of the Lord.

R/ Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ.

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

Saint Comgall, Abbot (Ireland)

First Reading

Acts of the Apostles 4:32-35

The whole group of believers was united, heart and soul; no one claimed for his own use anything that he had, as everything they owned was held in common.

The apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus with great power, and they were all given great respect.

None of their members was ever in want, as all those who owned land or houses would sell them, and bring the money from them, to present it to the apostles; it was then distributed to any members who might be in need.

The Word of the Lord.

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 14(15):2-5

R/ The just will live in the presence of the Lord.

Lord, who shall dwell on your holy mountain?

He who walks without fault;

he who acts with justice

and speaks the truth from his heart;

he who does not slander with his tongue.

R/ The just will live in the presence of the Lord.

He who does no wrong to his brother,

who casts no slur on his neighbour,

who holds the godless in disdain,

but honours those who fear the Lord.

The just will live in the presence of the Lord.

R/ He who keeps his pledge, come what may;

who takes no interest on a loan

and accepts no bribes against the innocent.

Such a man will stand firm for ever.

R/ The just will live in the presence of the Lord.

Gospel Acclamation

Matthew 5:3

Alleluia, alleluia!

How happy are the poor in spirit:

theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Alleluia!

Gospel

Matthew 5:1-12a

How happy are the poor in spirit

Seeing the crowds, Jesus went up the hill. There he sat down and was joined by his disciples. Then he began to speak. This is what he taught them:

‘How happy are the poor in spirit;

  theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Happy the gentle:

  they shall have the earth for their heritage.

Happy those who mourn:

  they shall be comforted.

Happy those who hunger and thirst for what is right:

  they shall be satisfied.

Happy the merciful:

  they shall have mercy shown them.

Happy the pure in heart:

  they shall see God.

Happy the peacemakers:

  they shall be called sons of God.

Happy those who are persecuted in the cause of right:

  theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

‘Happy are you when people abuse you and persecute you and speak all kinds of calumny against you on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.’

The Gospel of the Lord.

R/ Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ.

[pamphletstoinspire]

THE HOLY GOSPEL OF JESUS CHRIST, ACCORDING TO ST. John, FROM THE LATIN VULGATE BIBLE

Chapter 19

PREFACE.

St. John, the evangelist, a native of Bathsaida, in Galilee, was the son of Zebedee and Salome. He was by profession a fisherman. Our Lord gave to John, and to James, his brother, the surname of Boanerges, or, sons of thunder; most probably for their great zeal, and for their soliciting permission to call fire from heaven to destroy the city of the Samaritans, who refused to receive their Master. St. John is supposed to have been called to the apostleship younger than any of the other apostles, not being more than twenty-five or twenty-six years old. The Fathers teach that he never married. Our Lord had for him a particular regard, of which he gave the most marked proofs at the moment of his expiring on the cross, by intrusting to his care his virgin Mother. He is the only one of the apostles that did not leave his divine Master in his passion and death. In the reign of Domitian, he was conveyed to Rome, and thrown into a caldron of boiling oil, from which he came out unhurt. He was afterwards banished to the island of Patmos, where he wrote his book of Revelations; In his gospel, St. John omits very many leading facts and circumstances mentioned by the other three evangelists, supposing his readers sufficiently instructed in points which his silence approved. It is universally agreed, that St. John had seen and approved of the other three gospels.

Chapter 19

The continuation of the history of the Passion of Christ.

1 Then, therefore, Pilate took Jesus, and scourged him.

Notes & Commentary:

Ver. 1. Pilate's motive, for ordering our Saviour to be scourged, was no other than this; that the Jews might be satisfied with these his numerous sufferings, and might no longer seek his death. For the same reason, likewise, he permitted his soldiers to inflict those unheard of cruelties, related in the sequel. (St. Augustine, tract. 110. in Joan.)

2 And the soldiers platting a crown of thorns, put it upon his head: and they put on him a purple garment.

Ver. 2. No explanation given.

3 And they came to him, and said; Hail, king of the Jews: and they gave him blows.

Ver. 3. No explanation given.

4 Pilate, therefore, went forth again, and saith to them; Behold I bring him forth to you, that you may know that I find no cause in him.

Ver. 4. No explanation given.

5 (So Jesus came forth bearing the crown of thorns, and the purple garment.) And he saith to them; Behold the man.

Ver. 5. No explanation given.

6 When the chief priests, therefore, and the officers, had seen him, they cried out, saying; Crucify him, crucify him. Pilate saith to them; Take him, you, and crucify him; for I find no cause in him.

Ver. 6. No explanation given.

7 The Jews answered him, We have a law; and according to the law he ought to die, because he made himself the Son of God.

Ver. 7. No explanation given.

8 When Pilate, therefore, had heard this saying, he feared the more.

Ver. 8. No explanation given.

9 And he entered into the hall again, and he said to Jesus; Whence art thou? But Jesus gave him no answer.

Ver. 9. No explanation given.

10 Pilate, therefore, saith to him; Speakest thou not to me? knowest thou not that I have power to crucify thee, and I have power to release thee?

Ver. 10. No explanation given.

11 Jesus answered; Thou shouldst not have any power against me, unless it were given thee from above. Therefore, he that hath delivered me to thee, hath the greater sin.

Ver. 11. Unless it were given, or permitted thee from above. Therefore, he that delivered me to thee, hath the greater sin. Some expound this of Judas; others, rather of the high priest Caiphas, with the Jewish council: for they could not be ignorant that Jesus was their Messias, having seen the miracles Jesus did, and knowing the predictions of the prophets. (Witham) --- Lest any should think, from what our Saviour had said, that Pilate was not in fault, in this place, he here adds, that he that had delivered him up, had the greater sin: God, indeed, had permitted it; but still these instruments of his death were not without fault. (St. Chrysostom, hom. lxxxiii. in Joan.) --- Christ had been delivered into the power of Pilate through envy, and Pilate was about to exercise that power through fear. But though this last motive of fear can never justify any one, who condemns the innocent, yet still it is much more pardonable than the motive of envy, which was the incentive of the Jewish multitude. (St. Augustine, tract. 116. in Joan.) --- Judas delivered Jesus into the hands of the priests, but both the priests and the people delivered him up to Pontius Pilate.

12 And from thenceforth Pilate sought to release him. But the Jews cried out, saying; If thou release this man, thou art not Cæsar's friend. For whosoever maketh himself a king, speaketh against Cæsar.

Ver. 12. No explanation given.

13 Now when Pilate had heard these words, he brought Jesus forth: and sat down in the judgment-seat, in the place that is called Lithostrotos, and in Hebrew, Gabbatha.

Ver. 13. No explanation given.

14 And it was the Parasceve of the Pasch, about the sixth hour, and he saith to the Jews: Behold your king.

Ver. 14. The Parasceve of the Pasch; that is, the day before the paschal sabbath. The eve of every sabbath was called the Parasceve, or day of preparation. But this was the eve of a high sabbath, viz. that which fell in the paschal week. (Challoner) --- It was about the sixth hour when they crucified him. St. Mark, in his gospel, says, it was at the third hour that Jesus was crucified. These two evangelists are easily reconciled, if we consider that according to the custom of the Jews, all that took place between the third hour and the sixth hour of their day, was said to have happened in the third hour: their days being divided into four parts of three hours each, in the same manner as the nights were into four watches, of three hours each. St. Mark, therefore, might say very well, that the crucifixion of our Saviour took place in the third hour: though it might have been towards the conclusion of this general division of the day: whilst St. John, with a reason equally as good, says that it happened about the sixth hour. (John Nicolaus, in his marginal notes on St. Thomas Aquinas' Aurea Catena.)

15 But they cried out: Away with him, away with him, crucify him. Pilate saith to them; Shall I crucify your king? The chief priests answered; We have no king but Cæsar.

Ver. 15. No explanation given.

16 Then, therefore, he delivered him to them to be crucified. And they took Jesus, and led him forth.

Ver. 16. No explanation given.

17 And bearing his own cross, he went forth to that place which is called Calvary, but in Hebrew, Golgotha:

Ver. 17. St. John makes no mention of what took place on the way to Calvary, when Jesus, being worn out by fatigue, could not proceed any farther, and they were obliged to relieve him of his burden, and to give it to a man, named Simon, of Cyrene, to carry for him, as is related in St. Matthew xxvii. 32. and St. Mark xv. 21. (Calmet) --- For the honour paid in the early ages to the holy cross see St. Cyril, lib. vi. cont. Julian.; St. Jerome, ep. xvii.; St. Paulin. ep. xi.

18 Where they crucified him, and with him two others, one on each side, and Jesus in the midst.

Ver. 18. No explanation given.

19 And Pilate wrote a title also; and he put it upon the cross. And the writing was, Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.

Ver. 19. He is the king, not of the Jews only, but of the Gentiles also. But it is not without reason, that he is called king of the Jews. For they were the true olive (Romans xi.); and we, the wild olive, have been ingrafted, and made partakers of the virtue of the true olive. Christ, therefore, is the king of the Jews, circumcised, not in the flesh, but in the heart, not according to the letter, but the spirit. (St. Augustine, tract. 118. in Joan.)

20 This title, therefore, many of the Jews did read; because the place, where Jesus was crucified, was near to the city; and it was written in Hebrew, in Greek, and in Latin.

Ver. 20. As there were probably many Gentiles at Jerusalem at this time, on account of the festival day, this inscription was written in three different languages, that all might be able to read it. (St. Chrysostom, hom. lxxxiv. in Joan.) --- It was written in Hebrew, on account of the Jews, who glorified in the law of God; in Greek, on account of the wise men of all nations; and in Latin, because of the Romans, who at that time commanded almost every nation of the earth. (St. Augustine, tract. 118. in Joan.)

21 Then the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate; Write not, The king of the Jews: but that he said, I am the king of the Jews.

Ver. 21. No explanation given.

22 Pilate answered; What I have written, I have written.

Ver. 22. No explanation given.

23 Then the soldiers, when they had crucified him, took his garments, (and they made four parts, to every soldier a part) and also his coat. Now the coat was without seam, woven from the top throughout.

Ver. 23. They made four parts. Christ's upper garment had seams, which the four executioners could easily divide; but his under garment, or vest, was without seam, so that being cut, it would have been of no use. (Witham) --- This coat without seam is a figure of the unity of the Church. (St. Cyprian, de unit. Eccles.) --- The Rev. Fred. Nolan, of Woodford, in Essex, in his late work, entitled, Objections of a Churchman to uniting with the Bible Society, after quoting 2 Peter iii. 15, 16, says: "That the Bible may, therefore, prove the remote, but innocent cause of harm, is not, I apprehend, to be disputed, if we are to admit of its own authority:" p. 23, and again, p. 24, "that the present mode of circulating the Scriptures must prove a most effectual specific for multiplying sects and schisms; and consequently, for increasing, to an infinite degree, the greatest evil, under which Christianity has suffered, from the time of its promulgation, down to the memorable epoch of this happy invention, for the establishment of Christian faith, and the extension of Christian unanimity." P. 62., in the same work, "That the Bible is the foundation of our religion, is new doctrine, unless in the divinity of the conventicle. We are built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone. (Ephesians ii. 20.) On this foundation others still build, who are labourers together with God; (1 Corinthians xi. 9. 10.) of which divine co-operation the successors of the apostles have an express promise, to the end of the world. (Matthew xxviii. 20.) And by persons thus authorized (John xx. 21.) apostolical tradition has been delivered down to the present day, p. 63. The one body, of which our Lord was resolved his Church should consist, was to have one faith, (Ephesians iv. 4, 5.) it was to contain no schism, (1 Corinthians xii. 25.) but the present confederacy is formed on the principle of combining every sect and party, and this, while we have received an express prohibition against associating with those, who reject apostolical traditions, committed to the Church." (2 Thessalonians iii. 6. 14.) In a foot-note on the above, the learned divine very appositely cites St. Ignatius, in which quotation we find these emphatic words: Me planasthe adelphoi mou, ei tis schizonti akolouthei, Basileian theou ou Kleronomei. Be not deceived, my brethren, not only acknowledged schismatics, but whoever shall join with a schismatic, shall not inherit the kingdom of God. The same apostolic Father, in another part, adds: he who corrupts the faith of God, for which Christ suffered, shall go into unquenchable fire: eis to pur to asbeston choresei. St. Alexander, in the fourth century, says of the Arians: that seamless garment, which the murderers of Jesus Christ would not divide, these men have dared to rip asunder. Tou arrekton chitona schisai eiolmesan.

24 They said then one to another; Let us not cut it, but let us cast lots for it, whose it shall be; that the Scripture might be fulfilled, saying, They have parted my garments among them; and upon my vesture they have cast lot. And the soldiers indeed did these things.

Ver. 24. No explanation given.

25 Now there stood by the cross of Jesus, his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene.

Ver. 25. There stood by the cross....his mother. And so near to him, that from the cross he both spoke to her, and also to St. John. (Witham)

26 When Jesus, therefore, saw his mother, and the disciple standing, whom he loved, he saith to his mother; Woman, Behold thy son.

Ver. 26. Though there were other holy women standing by the cross, he takes notice of none but his mother, teaching us, by this, what we owe to our parents. For although it is our duty to disown them, when they place obstacles in our way to salvation; yet when they do not thus impede us, we owe every thing to them, and must prefer them to all. (S. Chrysostom, hom. lxxxiv. in Joan.) --- We learn also here, what should be our respect and confidence in this Virgin Mother, so highly honoured by her divine Son.

27 After that, he saith to the disciple; Behold thy mother. And from that hour the disciple took her to his own.

Ver. 27. The disciple took her to his own home, or into his own are, not for his mother, by the Greek expression. See St. Chrysostom and St. Augustine. (Witham)

Note:

Ver. 27. Accepit eam discipulus in sua. Not in suam. eis ta idia.

28 Afterwards Jesus knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the Scripture might be fulfilled, said; I thirst.

Ver. 28. No explanation given.

29 Now there was a vessel set there full of vinegar. And they putting a sponge full of vinegar about hyssop, put it to his mouth.

Ver. 29. No explanation given.

30 When Jesus, therefore, had taken the vinegar, he said; It is consummated. And bowing his head, he gave up the ghost.

Ver. 30. No explanation given.

31 Then the Jews, (because it was the Parasceve) that the bodies might not remain upon the cross on the sabbath day, (for that was a great sabbath day) besought Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken away.

Ver. 31. Because it was the Parasceve. It is also called, (ver. 14.) the day of preparation of the Pasch. Literally, the Parasceve of the Pasch. And (ver. 31.) the Jews, because it was the preparation, that the bodies might not remain on the cross on the sabbath, for that was a great sabbath day, &c. Some pretend, by these expressions, to prove that Friday, the year Christ suffered, was not the first and great day of the feast of Azyms, but only the day of preparation, and that on Friday night the Jews eat the paschal lamb, and not the night before, or Thursday night, as Christ had done with his disciples. But according to the common exposition, Friday is here called the day of preparation, for the great and solemn sabbath, which happened in the paschal week. See Tillemont on the 5th passage out of John, p. 698, section 11. and 12. (Witham)

32 The soldiers, therefore, came; and they broke the legs of the first, and of the other that was crucified with him.

Ver. 32. No explanation given.

33 But when they were come to Jesus, as they saw that he was already dead, they did not break his legs.

Ver. 33. No explanation given.

34 But one of the soldiers opened his side with a spear, and immediately there came out blood and water.

Ver. 34. There came out blood and water, which naturally could not come from a dead body. (Witham) --- Hence it is, that the sacred mysteries flow; as often, therefore, as thou approachest the awful cup, approach it as if thou wert going to drink from thy Saviour's sacred side. (St. Chrysostom, hom. lxxxiv. in Joan.) --- The holy Fathers say, that the spouse [i.e. the Church] of Jesus Christ was here taken out of his side, whilst sleeping on the cross, as Eve was from Adam's side, when he was cast asleep in Paradise.

35 And he that saw it, gave testimony; and his testimony is true. And he knoweth that he saith true, that you also may believe.

Ver. 35. No explanation given.

36 For these things were done, that the Scripture might be fulfilled; You shall not break a bone of him.

Ver. 36. You shall not break a bone of him. This, which was literally spoken of the paschal lamb, (Exodus xii. 46.) the evangelist applies to Christ, of whom the lamb was a figure. (Witham) --- This had been said of the paschal lamb, which was a figure of Jesus Christ. (Exodus xii. 46. and Numbers ix. 12.)

37 And again another Scripture saith; They shall look on him whom they pierced.

Ver. 37. This text is from Zacharias xii. 10. and seems to refer most literally to Jesus Christ.

38 And after these things, Joseph of Arimathea (because he was a disciple of Jesus, but secretly, for fear of the Jews) besought Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus. And Pilate permitted him. He came, therefore, and took away the body of Jesus.

Ver. 38. No explanation given.

39 And Nicodemus also came; he who at the first came to Jesus by night, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pound.

Ver. 39. About a hundred pound. This seems a great quantity. It may be, they did not use it all. And besides, it was the custom of the Jews, at their great burials, to cover the body with spices and perfumes. (Witham)

40 They took, therefore, the body of Jesus, and bound it in linen cloths with the spices, as it is the custom with the Jews to bury.

Ver. 40. No explanation given.

41 Now there was in the place, where he was crucified, a garden; and in the garden a new sepulchre, wherein no man had yet been laid.

Ver. 41. This is added, lest it should be said, that it was not Christ, but some other, that rose from the dead; or at least, that he rose by the virtue of some other person reposing there. (Calmet).

42 There, therefore, because of the Parasceve of the Jews, they laid Jesus, for the sepulchre was nigh at hand.

Ver. 42. No explanation given.

[clockworkapothecary]

Sinful

((Ahhh sorry I forgot I had these in my inbox still))

My muse is under the effects of a truth serum, but with a twist: they only confess their wrongdoings. Send “Sinful” for them to confess one regretful deed they’ve done or thought they’ve had.

Beaumont family edition:

Damian:

His gaze is turned downwards, his shoulders sagging. “I let her convince me that she loved me,” he says softly. “I knew it was a ploy from the beginning, but I wanted so much to believe that it was real.  Enough to put my kingdom at risk.  Enough to put my children at risk.  I let myself be vulnerable to her, because I thought... because I thought she could change.  I was wrong.”

Cyrene:

Her fingers tap gently on the tabletop, frustration flickering in her gaze. “I should have eliminated Leonce much sooner.  Before he had the chance to corrupt Alexander.  I underestimated him, and if he hadn’t gotten in the way this war might be over by now.”

Alexander:

“I let him down.”  His voice is hollow, his face devoid of emotion. “He put so much faith in me, and in the end it all meant nothing.  I couldn’t be what he needed, and I never will be.”

Vaughn:

Perhaps he never fully recovered after the war.  He takes in a deep, shuddering breath, eyes closed as if that might shut out the ghosts of his past. “It was my fault,” he whispers. “She died because of me, because I abandoned her, because... because I couldn’t see clearly enough to tell what was really important.  I lost everything that mattered, and all of it was my fault.”

Milo:

He doesn’t speak, just curls in on himself out of fear or shame, it’s not clear which.  He should have been there.  He should have tried harder to show his father that what he was doing was wrong; he should have stopped him.  And he should have been there, in that final battle.  Maybe he could have stopped it, maybe he could have saved his father.  If there was anything left of him to be saved.

Kyrie:

“I...” It seems difficult for her to get the words out, her expression contorted with emotions she isn’t used to facing. “...I wasn’t strong enough.  I was born to protect my kingdom and my queen, and I... I failed them.  I should be marked a traitor for what I’ve done, I should be cast out... I don’t know why Vaughn forgave me.  He shouldn’t have.  i don’t deserve it.”