#Partitionism

[dougielombax]

You do realise that the idea of and the campaign for the reunification of Ireland predates that Star Trek episode where it’s mentioned by a good 70+ years.

Right?

Right?!

It’s not just a meme!

To suggest otherwise (and I’ve heard plenty of stupid British royalists and idiot partitionists say otherwise! And they’re still wrong!) is deeply insulting to the people who support such an idea and to republicanism as a whole.

It’s much bigger than that.

You do know that.

Right?

Right?!

[anbumiththiran]

Hey idiots, what are you going to do?

World political leaders who are ruining this world, What are you waiting to do now? Are you thinking of provoking war between India and Pakistan like the war in Ukraine, Russia? It’s not that easy. Your game will end soon. Your destruction will also be determined by the hands of your slaves who make decisions in your favor. Be prepared. We are also preparing. Your death will not be ordinary.…

[helleanorlance]

So I have kind of made friends with this gay guy in his early 30s who is new in town. And he’s a lot and truth be told sometimes I have no idea what he is saying. But also I like him. But he REALLY wants to date and has like asked me about my preferences in guys and has NOT picked up that I’m a lesbian but I’m also not really out at work (which is how I know him) so I just do NOT know what to say.

[thesouthernsuccubus]

Sitting between a priest’s legs during confession, on your knees. Giving him slow, gentle head while he absolves his partitioners, one by one — and finally, taking his seed down your throat, and letting him absolve you too. We are all filthy sinners after all, aren’t we, Father?

[owlespresso]

Leander coddles you. Ais would teach you learn how to fly by dropping you.

Ais abides by your requests for assistance, suspiciously often for someone who acts so disinterested. He stalks your shadow, and ultimately sends you headlong into danger. The best way to make someone honest is through fear. The best way to help someone learn is similar. Danger provides a motivation that he knows can elevate you. 

He stalks your shadow and banters with you as you head towards your destination, sometimes quiet, sometimes playful. Regardless, there’s almost always a steadying hand on your shoulder, accompanied by the knowledge that he believes in you, and what you can accomplish.

Minutes or hours later, when you are surrounded by enemy gang members or a pack of bloodthirsty soulless, he is nowhere to be seen. He slinks away, keeping careful distance as he observes your reactions, notes your capabilities or your lack of them. 

Upon reuniting with him, he takes your petulant rage with easy coolness, pointedly educating or reminding you about his philosophies and methods. 

This is the most efficient way to teach you, he reasons. He chases away your anger with placating words and genuine compliments. He strokes a soothing hand down your shuddering spine, sweeps you into the strong cage of his arms to rock you back and forth. His chaste comfort quickly changes into something carnal, something a deeper red when he glides his sharp canines down the side of your throat, noses over your pulse. Your blood races now for a different reason.

Or perhaps, it is a way to carefully let you know how much you need him. 

Leander is steadfast to your side whenever he catches you leaving the Wet Wick. His followers and partitioners are left abandoned, business shoved aside for later for the lone purpose of tailing you. He’s not sure if you’re aware of how valuable his time is, how in demand he is across Lowtown—but that’s also what may charm him.

He eagerly assists you in every task. He slings spells at your foes to defend you, pulls you away from the line of fire and into his side. He opens doors for you, pulls out chairs, extends a hand when you have to jump down from a fence or a crate. Like a prince helping you off a horse.

He wants you to depend on him. The Bloodhounds and regulars of the Wick become increasingly aware of his attachment to you, the claim he has silently staked. Even when he is not by your side, there’s almost always a green cloak in the vicinity, ready to help you with a disconcerting smile and dead eyes.

He second guesses your decisions, subtly, politely. He insists, on occasion, that you misremember smaller details that, well, perhaps you really did. He disarms you with his fond smile and blatant willingness to assist you with whatever you ask. He provides you with a roof over your head, with food and drink—and he is quite insistent on handling the drinks.

Leander doesn’t need you to get stronger. Leander prefers you pliant and differential, willing to depend on his strength and his connections. He wants to surround you with himself and all he has. You may second guess his decisions, but you always sleep easily at night.

friendly disclaimer: this was written before the game's release and as such may contain portrayals that are inaccurate. all you see above is purely a predictive interpretation that may be disproven with the game's full release.

[bringmemyrocks]

"The most serious [anti-Zionist] riots [in Palestine] in a decade of turbulent politics occurred in 1929. Britain sent a commission to investigate the causes of the disturbances. The report graphically stated: “The enlargement of the Jewish Agency was not unnoticed by the Arabs. They knew that it meant an increase in the pressure of world Jewry on Palestine and in the material resources behind it. They saw too that it had revived the self-confidence, not to say aggressiveness, of the less restrained inhabitants of the National Home." The report continues to observe that Arabs saw in the recent Jewish immigrant “a movement created by an important international organization supported by funds which, judged by Arab standards, seem inexhaustible.” So, the Jew migrating to Palestine was no longer a human seeking peace, security and opportunity. He was “a movement” and it appeared to Arabs “improbable that such competitors will in years to come be content to share the country with them.” [The Zionists] were afraid, in other words, that there was no “ineradicable” striving in a “Jewish people” to build a national life in Palestine; that if this artificial conditioning of Jewish life should cease and if all Jewish energies were not funneled through the bottle-neck of Jewish nationalism by means of such stultifying compromises as the Jewish Agency—Jews would become just normal human beings. They would no longer have an ambiguous status before the world. The Partitioners would prevent this by saddling a Jewish state, however small, upon the backs and consciences of the Jews of the world.”

-Rabbi Elmer Berger, The Jewish Dilemma, 1945, p 157-159, emphasis mine

Here Rabbi Berger explains how, even before 1948, Zionism made Jews unsafe in Palestine, both from colonial exploitation and from the riots that resulted when the indigenous people realized they were being colonized.

Rabbi Elmer Berger z''l, 1908-1996, was a Reform anti-Zionist American rabbi. He spent his life advocating against Zionism and for Palestinian human rights. He has been almost entirely written out of history, and I hope I can share his work with other anti-Zionists to help right this wrong.

Rabbi Berger worked alongside Palestinians all his life. His story shows that there have always been anti-Zionist Jews in the west, including those outside of ultra-orthodoxy.

[kit-williams]

Sacrament of Sin

tw: Yandere, Religious kink, Corruption kink, Word Bearer, Dollification (or rather the desire to dollifiy), Lolita darling

The Demon in his mind saw his Lamb first. In the crowd of partitioners in the cathedral. Dedicated to a smaller warp god that could be easily brought into the fold. Jihias Kinreaver enjoyed bringing worlds in via peaceful means he enjoyed preaching much like his father had and while he was far from like his long dead brother Argel Tal in his union with his neverborn... He had felt its presence pull away from him during his sermon as he watch the Lamb shiver from the touch of the beyond.

She looked like a child... she reminded him of dolls his long gone grandmother would collect with their dresses so pressed with layers and frills and lace. The lace on the collar hidden under the white bow and the lace of the veil pinned into her hair as she sat in a pew listening with a frown on her face. Did his lamb not enjoy his speech? No he would learn it was the gods that he was bringing to the planet she did not find herself fond of.

It was the commotion after the Midnight Mass that caused him to leave his quarters and find one of his priests and his Lamb engaged in a debate. A large white bow clipped on the back of her head and another pulling on her waist resting perfectly crisp just above her rear. Her legs were covered in white stockings with shiny black shoes. He watched his Lamb fold her arms over her chest as a deeper frown formed on her face. "You're not answering me you're just repeating what your lord said! How are they suppose to help me? It sounds like they are gods for warriors."

He hardly paid attention to what the priest had said till he tried to slap the Lamb and was pleasently surprised as she instead grabbed his wrist and slapped him back. "You little-"

"Oh I'm sorry is that not how I'm supposed to worship the Blood god?" She hissed back. She tried to pull away but her eyes suddenly fell upon Jihias. And Jihias... did not feel like a shephard in that moment as his own golden eyes rushed over her form... Jihias felt like a wolf as he had to refrain from licking his lips at the way her eyes looked at him.

"Now what commotion do we have at this late hour. " He purred out as he walked over, his robes making him look slightly smaller... less imposing... less like a weapon of war and give him a far friendlier appearence.

"I was," She speaks up and pulls her arm away from his priest as she pushes the wrinkles in her skirt away, "I was trying to learn more. I don't see how these new gods are any better than the deity we already worship." Jihias looked to his the Lamb giving her his full attention as she spoke with her heart. Of course there were always members of a flock who were stubborn and required far more hands on help to get them in line. "You said that they were still fine to worship."

"That I did little one." He watched the way her eyes flicked over his form for a moment as he could feel the way his neverborn slunk into her shadow and practically pressed itself into her back... if the veil was thinner perhaps it would have manifested as well. it smells so sweet... its soul so refreshing... l̸̙͇̗͚͚͠ḙ̶͊̌̍̇͜͝t̶̛͈̩́̅̊ ̸̨͎̓̿̉̚̚͜ů̶͜s̵̞͔̭͊ ̸͓̮̞̂̈́̾̂̕t̴̳̒a̸̰̼̹̲͇̓̿̓͊s̷̛̰̤͗̒͒͋t̶͈̜͐̈͝ę̸̛̛͔̻̦̀̀ͅ ̷̫̈́̍͆i̸̮̱̍́̓̚͜t̶̡̡̖̖̾̓̚

Jihias smiles warmly as he places a hand on her shoulder feeling the way she tenses as the hairs on the back of her neck raise with each lick the neverborn does. She slides a hand over the back of her neck feeling the phantom tickles of a tongue that isnt there. "I just... don't see how they benefit me. They feel very intense and far more for warriors and if there isn't any harm in continuing to worship my deity then I will keep doing so."

"Of course little Lamb." He replies so sweetly as he would happily be there to scoop her up and save her from her own foolish mistakes. "But I can easily explain to you how they can help you."

"I wouldn't want to bother you my Lord... you are a space marine after all... I figured-"

"That you could get it from a far more human source?" He finishes her thought and relishes the flicker of fear in her eyes. His fingers flexing to make sure she can't just slip away like she did the other. "Of course, I understand your reasoning." He says turning slightly, his large hand spreading out across her upper back as he pushes her toward his loaned study. He can feel the way she tenses up... the way she gets jumpy... she can see the predator in his eyes.

A shephard doesn't just tend a flock for no reward now does he? What is the point of tending all the ewes and rams? To enjoy the fruits of his labors... to get the milk from the ewes and wool yes but sometimes he enjoyed the tender meat of lambs. Though she was hardly a lamb anymore right? More close to a maiden ewe... he could feel his neverborn press against her... test her... feel her flesh just teasingly behind the veil of reality.

"What do you think of the Blood Lord?" He coos out softly deciding to start there.

"A warrior god. I have no desire to cave in the skulls of others as that is left for the warriors." His Lamb replied as he could tell she was uncomfortable and very much hesitant to enter the room alone with him trying to take a step back.

"What of the Lord of Change?" He allowed her to resist entering the study.

"I don't have any magic and I have a very tarnished silver tongue so it hardly helps me." She countered back.

"What about the great Grandfather?"

"I don't see how causing people to become sickly and die helps?" She says with a whimper as she is finally brought into his study. He watches her take a seat in one of the chairs that is much too big for her looking like a children's toy left behind. Let us play with the doll His neverborn purred and he could feel the excitement rush through him as he knew his neverborn wouldn't handle this dolly gently.

Jihias handed her a cup of something warm just to help keep those tired eyes of her's open.

"And what of the Prince of Pleasure?" He asked clicking his tongue looking over at her shift uncomfortably.

"I don't very much like pain..." She says hoping that it would be enough for him.

"Understandable but what about his other side?"

She sighs as it's clear she is tired and perhaps a bit more crude than she was meaning to say, "I haven't had sex yet. Haven't found the right one yet so maybe if I find the right one then maybe the Prince might apply to me? I guess." She says before sipping the drink.

Jihias hid his predatory grin rather well. "Of course perhaps the prince could help you with that. It doesn't have to go to the extremes... I know your deity espoused moderation but perhaps with the other three that might... but alright but with the Prince it's all about feeling good and comfortable." His tongue clicked as he walked around the chair she was in. He could feel the Prince's influence as he thought back to the memory of dealing with the Drukhari and just how some of their victims were trapped in their own skin... helpless dolls. She looked pretty enough to be one. Oh his mind raced with what he could do while that poison was flowing through her system.

"Perhaps we could have this conversation another time? It's rather late." His little lamb brayed as his neverborn continued to lick at the untouched woman thought the veil of reality. She had enough of the strange feeling that Brother Jihias brought her... ever since the sermon she had felt watched and touched.

"Of course Lamb." He spoke with his warmest voice as he looked down at her, "I forget at times how necessary rest is for you mortals. But if you have any questions feel free to seek me out, won't you?" He and his neverborn channeled the seed into the back of her mind... the counterintuitive desire to seek him out for promises of something more.

He watched her delicate throat swallow air as she nodded. "Of- of course. Thank you for entertaining my thoughts." He watched her curtsy as she walked over to the door and quietly left. He could hear the way she took off running after a few moments and his eyes fluttered with pleasure as the predator was fully out now as she made the little mistake of r̸̟̘͎̲̒̇́͒u̵̜̮̣̹̘͐̔n̷̡̧̹̻͠n̶̪͕̒͒̔̀͝i̸̗̖̳̊͠͝n̵̺̲̍͝g̸̡̟̙̯͉̿̒̏̚͘

He was going to thoroughly enjoy r̵̘̥̻̠̃̕u̵̡͎͊̈́͑̉̎i̴̹̪͂̓̔̂̕n̶̛̻̋̂̕͘i̵̱̯̳͐̍͒̐͜ṇ̴̭̒g̶̲̗͑̒͐̕ her. The flock wouldn't notice one little ewe missing? She still played like she was a lamb who couldn't get in trouble... so would that make him the wolf or the ram? He chuckled darkly to himself as he unabashedly started to relive the ache between his legs. Oh he was certainly going to have fun.

[baluciarz]

Day 3 - 19th century

Apparently, polish women in the 19th century wore black mourning clothes as an act of resistance against partitioners

@polpruweek

[ourstoriedinsight]

My First Ever Audio Drama Sunday!

Alright, I did a quick bit of research for etiquette, though of course solid chance I get something wrong but this week has been a great week podcast wise! Hopefully I don't err on anything major in my attempt to praise!

First off my weekly edge of my seat listens!

@innbetween Launched their next episode Wednesday for Patrons and I don't think it's out yet for everybody else so probably I shouldn't share spoilers but I will say HOLY SAP. There's something about this episode that made me go back and listen to season 5 again from the beginning in that way that a really good reveal does? Like you know that there was some foreshadowing that you missed and you have to walk back to admire it? You guys are in for a treat when it drops!

Thursday is of course Magnus Protocol Day. It's so hard waiting each week for a new hit of that stuff. All I want is for someone to pop something conversational into that search function bar that doesn't work and figure out if archivist.exe will reply! Hasn't happened yet but holding out hope. Like everybody else I am going mad at the slow burn of tantalizing bits dropped like bread crumbs in front of a starving man. I scream for more bread but I know the trail is more important than my instant gratification. As much as I feel like I'm strained under the pressure I can only hope that the pace is maintained and that I am not given everything I want too soon.

As for my binge quotient I am working my way through Spirit box Radio. I'm still in the first season but have already recommended it to about three people. I don't know if I've ever encountered an adorable horror pod before? I feel like that requires explanation because yes I've definitely encountered aspects of a horror podcast that made me go "aww cute!" but that was aspects. This is kind of more like the whole thing is adorable and the horror is there, sure , but playing second back up fiddle to the adorable. It's also doing that thing where it's dripping a overarching mystery into my ear little bits at a time which I am beginning to realize how very weak I am to. It's the paper to my rock, I am overwhelmed.

And that's been my week! I've been spending a lot of time with headphones on and in front of microphones and things for editing our episode 13. I don't know if this is a vibe among other editors but I find myself going "I wish I could really just listen to a podcast while I'm making this podcast" the way I do at my regular job when I need to sort a warehouse or something. Sadly sound and brains just don't work like that. What I wouldn't give for a fully partitionable brain.

Looking forward to another week full of delicious ear candy!

[acatalystrising]

How is it December already?? Wow, has this year flown by. The Boba Fett brainrot isn’t going anywhere, and since I know the holidays can be difficult for a lot of us, (myself included), I plan to focus on one shots that are either holiday themed (or at least with lots of fluff, c’mon) throughout the month! Anything from full scenes, chaptered fics, headcannons - I’m going to see where it takes me. If you have any requests, as always, feel free to send an ask! 💚🖤

As for today’s one shot, it’s merely a sample of what’s to come. This one is SFW, but any scene regarding Boba’s throne should include some kind of warning. 😉

The throne room was crowded - nearly stuffed to the seams.

You hovered at the door, overwhelmed by the noise, gaze flinging across the room to Boba. He sat on his throne as he always did - resolute, the very picture of power. And no matter how many times you’d seen him like this, it always stirred something deep within you that curled down your spine and left you breathless.

There were no alcoves left to slip into, no tables that weren’t already crowded. You mentally cursed as you scanned the wall for even a space to stand, but they too were also occupied.

Your skin prickled and you looked up, meeting Boba’s helmed gaze from across the room. He subtly lifted a gloved hand and beckoned you over with two thick fingers. You swallowed down your apprehension of the mingling crowd and nodded, stepping inside.

You ignored the probing gazes as you passed, keeping your eyes locked on the only person who mattered. He watched you approach, helmet tilting slightly to the left as you ascended the steps and stopped before him. Someone whistled from behind you, and Boba gestured at his thigh with a steady tap of his fingers, helmet dipping in an encouraging nod even as he shot an unseen glare at the offender.

Cheeks burning, you sat on his thigh, all too aware of the strong, corded muscle beneath you. Once you were settled you leaned back against the armrest, and the strong arm resting on the stone slid closer, gently supporting your back and drawing to closer to his beskar clad chest. He was grounding to your anxieties, touch calming, an anchor in your spinning world even as his gesture made it clear to all present that you were his, and his alone.

You watched the crowd all partaking of the food and drink he offered, even as you felt his grip on you tighten just enough to remind you that while he spent some of his wealth appeasing his partitioners…when it came to you, Boba Fett didn’t share.

His helmet leaned next to your ear, deep voice low enough for only you to hear.

“You needn’t hesitate, mesh’la,” he spoke so casually despite the power he held in the room, fingers tracing circles over your thigh. “I’ll never let them touch you.”

“I know,” you dipped your head almost shyly, and he hummed, shifting you closer until you were nestled comfortably against his shoulder, legs slung inward dangerously close to his groin, his much broader legs still spread wide. “I couldn’t find anywhere to sit.”

He chuckled, the sound thrumming deep into your chest and sending heat pooling in your core.

“Come now, little one,” his voice was nearly a growl in your ear as he gestured at his thigh. “You’ll always have the best seat in the house.”

[dougielombax]

I find it genuinely hilarious how the idea of Irish reunification scares people.

I say hilarious, more like baffling.

Now I understand why some may be nervous or hesitant. I get that. That’s fine. Understandable even.

That’s not what I’m referring to.

I’m referring more to certain people in Ireland (partitionists) who start frothing and shrieking about the PIRA, “those bastards”, and terrorism if you do so much as mention it.

And no, I’m not acting as an apologist for terrorists.

If YOU think Irish republicanism is inherently evil and terroristic, that’s your problem and it says more about you than anything else. Fix your hearts or die! Starting yesterday!

It’s like the very concept sends them into a feral rage. They start panicking and resorting to all kinds of mental gymnastics to shut the idea down.

The ones who call themselves progressive and then start spouting British establishment myths and propaganda about Ireland as if they were an irrefutable truth. They’re a key component.

Sometimes they’re just straight up reactionaries instead who think that Irish republicanism is just a stupid meme, despite being a real political movement with goals and aspirations. (I’ve run into one here)

The historical illiteracy is off the charts with these types.

Other ones include loyalists in the north, though they react similarly to just about anything what doesn’t fit their narrow, parochial, small minded, genocidal, bloodthirsty, stupid, anthropocentric, insular, nihilistic, racist, jingoistic, miserable, stagnant, anachronistic, selfish, arrogant, bigoted, supremacist, monocultural world views, beliefs and aspirations.

Also British Tories and pathologically deranged Scottish loyalists too. And the tabloid press in Israel for some bizarre reason (I’m not quite sure why), also the UK tabloids but that should go without saying.

They seem to view the idea as some kind of ultimate irredeemable sin what dare not even be thought about or else.

It’s hilarious and sickening to behold.

[barefootfriar]

thomas lysander the partitioner aka box man 😅

[pinkiepiebones]

How would special react to a clucky Copia? Maybe they had been people watching and Copia's sight had lingered on a group of children playing in Primo's garden. Perhaps Copia really wanted children of his own with his special ghoul, the cardinal wasn't sure how it would work but sometimes he couldn't help but imagine a small babe with features of his own and specials....

First off I never heard that term before. "Clucky" made me think of, like, "chicken," as in cowardly, so I was real fucking confused for a second there.

Anyway hope this is something?

Special leaned against Copia. It was midday, but it was winter, and they were outside. Special knew the cold would wreck Copia's joints. The ghoul, fully glamoured save his horns and tail, shrugged off his leather jacket to stretch out a wing and wrap it around the cardinal, and, after a second of thought, patted his jacket onto the cardinal's lap. He then concentrated and radiated heat, not enough to burn anything, just enough to ease the chill for his human.

Copia smiled. "Thanks, Spesh."

"No prob. I live to serve an' all that shit." Special reached over and fished a joint out of his jacket pocket and held it up for Copia to see, who shook his head; Copia knew Special's joints were almost always entirely made of catnip. Special nodded and propped the joint between his full, shapeshifted lips and lit the tip by concentrating radiant heat in the tip of his finger. He took a long drag, pulling smoke into shapeshifted lungs, and held it.

"Do you ever wonder what our kids would look like?"

Special, despite not having a human throat, immediately choked.

The ghoul hacked and wheezed- again, a feat considering what he was- and sputtered, somehow managing to keep his joint from falling into the snow.

The cardinal adjusted his clerical scarf. "Guess not."

Special righted himself and stared at his human. "Yeah, no, man, I haven't wondered, because we can't-" Special made some vague gestures and noises to supplement human speech. Special then followed Copia's gaze across the snowy yard.

The clergy daycare staff had brought the children of partitioners outside for some playtime. Children dressed in warm black church coats were screaming and laughing and playing, making snow-devils and building snow Baphomets.

Special gestured with his joint. "You want me to grab one of those? 'Cause last time I tried to steal a kid for us, you got pretty upset..." *

Copia sighed. "No, I'm..." He looked at his bewildered ghoulfriend. "I just get weird this time of year. I was abandoned as an infant this time of year. Sister found me in the snow on the steps of the narthex. She raised me as her own. I guess I feel like I sho- I mean, if I wasn't so busy, I could... I could be a parent, or something... The kids like me well enough when I teach ritual school... Or, or what would a leetle me be like? Or a me and you? A child with my hair and your eyes..."

Special blinked and stretched his other wing out and around the cardinal. "Copia." He gently touched Copia's face and turned his head so their foreheads could touch. "Even if I could figure out procreational mating, a child needs two DNAs, and I have none. There'd be some nasty Immaculate Conceptional shit there. I ain't no Mary."

Copia chuckled and shoved Special's chest. "I would never ask you to be or want you to attempt to be a mother. I just wonder sometimes, that's all.

Special takes another drag and blows a smoke ring and tries to 'catch' it with his horns. "Do you regret, uhh, sticking with me? The church doesn't mandate monogamy, you know. You could go and see how a leetle Copia would be. If that's what you really want."

Copia shook his head and smiled as a child screamed and beheaded a snow-sacrifice-man and threw the snow-head at the daycare staff.

"As I said, I just wonder sometimes. But I know I am right where I want to be."

Copia leaned against Special.

[photo-snap-stories]

PL:

Zamek królewski w Sandomierzu

W XIV wieku z fundacji króla Kazimierza Wielkiego na miejscu drewnianego grodu wzniesiono murowaną gotycką budowlę z murem zamkowym oraz wieżą obronną, zbudowaną na ośmiobocznym planie. Kronikarz Janko z Czarnkowa wymienia sandomierski zamek wśród 32 innych wystawionych z polecenia króla w ramach akcji wzmocnienia obronności kraju i poszczególnych miast. Ok. 1480r. wzniesiona została baszta południowa tzw. „kurza noga”, obecnie najstarsza zachowana część zamku.

W XVI wieku z inicjatywy króla Zygmunta I Starego rozpoczęto przebudowę gotyckiego zamku w renesansową rezydencję. Przebudowę upamiętniono tablicą erekcyjną z okolicznościowym napisem: „Zygmunt z łaski Bożej król Polski, wielki książę litewski, ruski, pruski, pan i dziedzic roku pańskiego 1520”.

Za panowania następnego króla Zygmunta II Augusta kontynuowano prace przy rozbudowie zamku. Obejmowały one budowę skrzydła zachodniego zakończonego narożną wieżą oraz połączenie muru północnego z wieżą bramną.

Za panowania króla Jana Kazimierza w 1656 r., w czasie „potopu” zamek został wysadzony w powietrze przez wycofujące się wojska szwedzkie. Zniszczeniu uległy skrzydła wschodnie i południowe. Od tego czasu stał się budynkiem użyteczności publicznej: urzędem, sądem i więzieniem. W 1768r. w czasie konfederacji barskiej zamek został ponownie zniszczony, tym razem przez kwaterujące w nim wojska rosyjskie.

Po III rozbiorze Polski zaborca austriacki przeznaczył zamek na sąd i więzienie. W 1844r. przebudowano pozostałości królewskiego zamku nadając mu surowe klasycystyczne formy architektoniczne. W końcu XIX stulecia półokrągły dziedziniec więzienny obudowano nowym skrzydłem tzw. „rogalem”, a w mur północny wstawiono budynek dla administracji więziennej. Tak ukształtowany zamek pełnił funkcje więzienne do 1959r.

W późniejszych latach przeprowadzono gruntowne prace remontowo-konserwatorskie, rozebrano budynek administracji i okalający dziedziniec, a w 1986r. przeznaczono zamek na siedzibę Muzeum Okręgowego w Sandomierzu.

EN:

The royal castle in Sandomierz, Poland

In the 14th century, founded by King Casimir the Great, a brick Gothic building with a castle wall and a defensive tower, built on an octagonal plan, was erected on the site of the wooden stronghold. The chronicler Janko from Czarnków mentions the Sandomierz castle among 32 others erected by order of the king as part of a campaign to strengthen the defense of the country and individual cities. Around 1480 the southern tower, the so-called "chicken leg", was erected, now the oldest surviving part of the castle.

In the 16th century, on the initiative of King Sigismund I the Old, the reconstruction of the Gothic castle into a Renaissance residence began. The reconstruction was commemorated with an foundation plaque with the occasional inscription: "Sigismund, by the grace of God, King of Poland, Grand Duke of Lithuania, Ruthenia, Prussia, master and heir of the year of our Lord 1520."

During the reign of the next king, Sigismund II Augustus, work on the expansion of the castle continued. They included the construction of the western wing ending with a corner tower and the connection of the northern wall with the gate tower.

During the reign of King John Casimir in 1656, during the "deluge", the castle was blown up by retreating Swedish troops. The eastern and southern wings were destroyed. Since then, the castle has become a public building: an office, a court and a prison. In 1768 during the Bar Confederation, the castle was destroyed again, this time by the Russian troops quartered there.

After the Third Partition of Poland, the Austrian partitioner used the castle as a court and a prison. In 1844 the remains of the royal castle were rebuilt, giving it strict classicist architectural forms. At the end of the 19th century, the semicircular prison yard was enclosed with a new wing, the so-called "croissant", and a building for the prison administration was built into the northern wall. The castle shaped in this way served as a prison until 1959.

In later years, thorough renovation and conservation works were carried out, the administration building and the surrounding courtyard were demolished, and in 1986 the castle was designated as the seat of the District Museum in Sandomierz.

[the-unaligned-player]

Danganronpa: Maw of Survival

Roster

Tommy (Ultimate Comedian)

Tubbo (Ultimate Physicist)

Sam (Ultimate Engineer)

Sapnap (Ultimate Arsonist)

Dream (Ultimate Free Runner (Analyst))

Niki (Ultimate Baker)

Wilbur (Ultimate Politician)

Quackity (Ultimate Gambler)

Foolish (Ultimate Architect)

Punz (Ultimate Soldier)

Technoblade (Ultimate Rebel)

Philza (Ultimate Survivor)

Puffy (Ultimate Sailor)

Karl (Ultimate Researcher (Time Traveller))

Ranboo (Ultimate ??? (Partitioner))

Connor (Ultimate Lucky Student)

Victims & Blackeneds

Chapter 1

Victim: Sapnap.

Cause of Death: Head crushed in a door.

Blackened: Sam.

Type: Premeditated, Friendly Fire.

Motive: Murdering Dream for the safety of everyone else.

Punishment: Trapped in an obsidian escape room and sealed inside to starve.

Chapter 2

Victim: Wilbur.

Cause of Death: Drowned in a sink.

Blackened: Niki.

Type: Passion.

Motive: Un(?)intentionally mocked and needled over and over by Wilbur about the L’ Manberg days.

Punishment: Trapped in a huge oven and baked to death along with pies shaped like The Syndicate.

Chapter 3

Victims: Foolish and Punz.

Cause of Death: Electrocution.

Blackened: Quackity.

Type: Premeditated.

Motive: Wanted to get out and is terrified of Dream and Techno.

Punishment: Gambling where the betting fee is blood.

Chapter 4

Victim: Technoblade.

Type: Premeditated.

Motive: Wanted to kill Monkuma to free everyone.

Punishment: 6 Impalements after carving a bloody path through Monkumas.

Chapter 5

Victim: Philza.

Cause of Death: Fell down an elevator shaft.

Blackened: “Puffy”.

Type: Premeditated.

Motive: Things were getting too chummy and stable.

Punishment: Battleship where every point of damage taken squeezes a collar tighter.

Chapter 6

Victim: Karl.

Type: Obligate.

Motive: Despair.

Punishment: Reduced to nothing but a red stain in a sandstorm.

Survivors

Tommy

Tubbo

Dream

Ranboo

Connor

[herecomesaspecialghoul]

Hey Spesh! How is Halloween usually celebrated at the ministry?

"Hej hej! Halloween is celebrated quite classic, classically here, though over the years there's been changes to adapt to the modern, uhhhh, senses. The whole, uh, giving out candies thing is still kinda new in this part of the world, but we've now got some partitioners who stay near the doors with little cauldrons of candy, as well as some who venture into nearby towns- we don't, uhhh, proselytize during the holiday, um, we don't pass out little- what is they called- oh, the shitty comics books about your religion? Yeah, we don't do that shit. Religious choice should be just that, you know? Don't feel pressured because a sexy person gave you candies and a pamphlet. Just enjoy being scary and getting fucked up on sugar, eheheheeheheheh!

"The church itself, I mean, the humans therein, as I said, do it up classic. Hallow's eve, the veil is thin, yadda yadda... Orgies only happen if Halloween's on a weekend, dunno why... Human sacrifices aren't done much any more because, like, it's just a lot of legality things. Paperwork and insurance, but if someone got the, uhh, the ball rollin' on those forms last year, sacrifices is always a fun spectacle. All us ghouls hang out on the ceiling and add our telepathic chanting to the audience's, really, eheheeh, really brings a note of class to the whole thing.

"What else... Oh, costumes is a must for humans. Even if you just, you know, eeehhhhh, shmudge some charcoal ash on your eyes an' draw skellyton teeth on your lips with a pen. It's better than nothing! Get some blood on your face and be a zombie! Draw on some stitches, anything. Those who refuse to even try get shunned for a month, it sucks. All that's asked is to try. A family of partitioners I saw, they all just sorta, uhhh, schlooped up their hair with gel to resemble horns and put on goggles and said 'we are the band ghouls' and it was fuckin' cute! I gave them each a fullsize candy bar. Not that I am biased.

"The Papa is always expected to have the lavish sort of costume, obviously, and his date or dates is expected to be just as good-looking. We spent so much time coming up with couple's costumes ideas... In the end we just dressed up as each other, eheeheheheheheheeheheheheh. We know each other's mannerisms very, uh, quite well.... Damn near fooled Sister Imperator!