#There's the obvious like his wings which is just an extension of his main body so that's not particularly hard

[sysig]

Shut up, you entitled waste of space (Patreon)

[daltonacademia]

There’s A Time For Daring - 1

charlie dalton x fem!reader [post events of the movie]

word count: 1.7k

warning: allusions to sex / slight sexual harrassment? drinking, mentions of neil’s suicide, horrible parents 

Charlie couldn’t help but emit a low growl as his vomit-inducing, picture-perfect, high-society mother and father, whom he despised, prodded him towards the expansive front entrance of Nealson Preparatory School located in southern Vermont. His fuschia-lipped, cakey-faced mother, Cynthia Dalton, was a well-dressed, dignified housewife by day and charming socialite by night; she was particularly harsh as she trampled his pen-stained oxfords with her spearish kitten heels. His eyes shot daggers at the snow-strewn path below, a familiar fire burning in his core.

There were many things Charlie was tempted to furiously spit out at his parents, but instead, he managed to keep his jaw clamped shut, his pearly whites digging into the light pink of his lips hard enough to draw blood. No matter what he shouted, cried, pleaded, they wouldn’t budge. They never would. And it was infuriating.

“Charles! Being expelled from such a prestigious school is no laughing matter, young man. That school cost us quite the pretty penny! How dare you defy the rules to the extent of expulsion. It’s disgraceful, and I will tolerate it no longer!” Charlie’s mother shrieked, furious tears smudging the thick mascara that coated her eyelashes.

“You’ll be shipped off to Nealson Preparatory School in February, and if I hear so much as a single mention of your name not followed with overwhelming compliments, you can expect nasty, nasty consequences! Go pack your things, you’ll be staying with Aunt Barbara until the first of February finally arrives!” The rims of Charlie’s brown eyes stung with anger, frustration, and furthest down, sadness. He was diminished to nothing but an image-ruiner to his mother. The person who was supposed to love him, protect him, save him from the horrors of this hell called Earth.

Mr. Dalton silently observed the boisterous outburst from his expensive leather armchair across the den, a glass of strong, half-drunk whiskey in his palm. Charlie couldn’t bear to see their despicable faces any longer, and as his body felt no longer under his control, stomped up the stairs in a huff, rapidly swiping away the glassy tears spilling from his eyes. Thoughts of running away, escaping it all, flooded his unstable mind. ‘I get why you did it, Neil. I really do. But did you have to go so soon?’ 

But instead of lingering on the image of Neil any longer, he hastily threw his bare necessities into his suitcase, which was still covered in an array of Welton Academy stickers.

The grounds of Nealson were unsurprisingly well-maintained; it reminded him a lot of Welton. The impeccably manicured lawns, gleaming, icy blue lake, the gothic stone arches and pillars. It was eerily similar to Hellton, even down to the ice-cold blanket of snow coating the distant rolling hills. It’s beautiful, Charlie thought, surveying the slow sprinkling of snow, No, it’s hideous. 

Before he could fully vomit at the vile grounds of his new school, his parents fiercely shoved him inside the Headmaster’s dingy office, politely taking the vacant mahogany seats beside him. Charlie couldn’t be bothered to listen to a word his parents said with pearly white smiles, which were no doubt tooth-rotting, sugar-coated lies about the real reason he was expelled over a month prior. 

He knew that they couldn’t just be transparent and tell the Headmaster that he had socked the utterly vile Richard Cameron’s face in (rightfully so, in his opinion), or that he was a star member of the infamous Dead Poets Society, or that he had gone to the extreme lengths to stage a phone call from none other than God himself. It didn’t work like that. 

His mother’s cheeky, artificial voice sounded precisely the same as it always had: carefully rehearsed and slathered with naivety. Seemingly without hesitation, the catty woman could deflect any less-than-pleasant questions or insinuations about her “golden role-model” son, who’s admittedly “a little misguided at times”. 

The new headmaster seated across from him appeared to be around the same age as Mr. Nolan, which, as far as Charlie was concerned, was older than the Cretaceous period at least. His pale-as-a-ghost skin was wrinkled and paper-thin; his patchy, gelled side-swept hair was (very obviously) dyed a deep, midnight black, reminiscent of an off-brand Elvis. 

Charlie’s ears continued to mute the awkward conversation happening amongst him, his focus instead shifting around to the various awards and certificates lining the ivory walls. They all seemed so phony; ‘Best Headmaster- 1947-1959’, ‘Nealson Academy: Exceeds Expectations’. The Headmaster had even framed his high school superlative: ‘Voted Most Likely to Succeed’. What a pathetic-

In a swift blur, his parents rose from their seats, his mother clutching her magenta purse with matching pursed lips. Charlie was handed a hefty, stapled packet packed full of school rules and guidelines with a denture-toothed smile from Headmaster ‘Campbell’. This’d make some decent kindling, he thought as he yanked the packet from his clammy clutches, leafing through its pages with a smirk, this garbage’s almost laughable.

A syncopated rhythm of raps on the door, followed by a gravelly, ‘come in', presented his new dorm escort. His chauffeur just so happened to be you, the accomplished and universally admired student body president in the same grade as the newcomer. You were dutifully donning Nealson’s horrendous uniform: a crisp, white button-up accented with a blue and silver tie was topped with a depressing grey sweater vest. An equally loathsome pleated skirt concealed your thighs, and your ankles were shielded from the chilly February air with black crew socks. 

You extended your perfectly manicured, soft hand out to your brand-new peer with a yearbook-worthy smile, introducing, “Hi. Welcome to Nealson, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You swore you heard the brunette mutter something disrespectful under his breath, but nonetheless, he, rather unprofessionally, shook your hand with an eye roll. Things between the two of you were not starting off the way you hoped, but you were determined to make a good impression. The best impression possible.

“Charlie Dalton,” he replied with a mischievous smirk. The brunette standing in front of you reeked of cigarettes, and there was the slightest smell of cheap beer clinging to his clothes. His brown hair was messy, springing out in every direction, despite the water furiously combed through it. His eyes glinted with rebellion, a look so alluring yet dangerous.

“I’ll be showing you to your dorm, which you’ll sleep in for the remainder of the year.” Since Dalton was starting in February, he only had five months of studying before long-awaited senior year. Mr. Campbell waved the two of you off, and with that, you trekked towards the Boys’ wing, Dalton sauntering at your side. 

The walk through the main corridor was silent and awkward. You had tried to enchant him with fun facts about Nealson and its (extensively selective) history, much to his obvious boredom and dismay. His umber eyes glazed the walls, uninterested in the decor. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, but for all you knew, it could be on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. 

After a while of treading through the high-ceilinged corridors illuminated with fleeting pale rays of sunlight, the boy next to you made no attempt to hide him drawing designs up and down your body. 

“I’ve never been to a school with both boys and girls,” he drawled with a smirk. “Do things ever get exciting around here?”

You shook your head no while indiscreetly tugging down the hem of your skirt uncomfortably, and he said, “Do you think you’d maybe wanna spend the night with me in my dorm? Make sure I’m all settled in?”

Your whole body, from head to toe, froze. The audacity of this… creep! Your tongue poked, nearly stabbed, the back of your teeth, wanting to unleash a select few words to the disgusting Dalton beside you. But alas, if he were to tell anyone of your fiery wrath, you’d be demoted from class president faster than you could explain what really happened. It’s a corrupt system, sure, but even with the power that comes with such a title, there was no way to mend it.

Eventually, while you were wrapped up in the furies of your mind, Dalton revealed a small, autographed golf ball from his trousers pocket and began throwing it up and down above his head casually with every step. 

“Can you not?” you snapped at the chestnut-haired boy after he tossed the sphere up and down again in an arch. “Don’t wanna get in trouble on your first day, do you?”  

“You think this’ll get me in trouble? Have a little fun, it won’t kill you. I promise.” Dalton turned his gaze towards you, an annoyed but smug grin painted on his lips. He slowly tossed the golf ball to your hands, intending for you to catch it. However, the small ball evaded your grasp, instead bouncing around the hardwood floors below you, creating a series of loud, reverberating thunks.

“You were supposed to catch it, you know,” Dalton teased, nonchalantly watching you chase after the rogue orb. After it was finally safe in your clutches, you stomped over to the no-good newbie, irritated. 

“Nealson’s strict. They don’t let stuff like creating an awful lot of racket go unreprimanded.” You were seething; red-hot blood pumped through your veins. Dalton didn’t look anything but utterly amused.

“Wow, you’re just about one of the biggest suck-ups I’ve seen in a while.”

“A what?” you growled.

“A suck-up. A rule-following poster child of excellence? A bratty, know-it-all? Anything along those lines?” He sputtered insults so nonchalantly, it made your blood boil and eyes sting.

“You better watch it, Dalton. I don’t know who you think you are-”

“I’m the best thing that’s happened to this school, by the looks of it.” 

You had nothing left to say to this conceited shuck of a boy who really thought that he was all that and a side of fries. Well he wasn’t! Not in the slightest! And if his first day of classes wouldn’t drill it into him, you would.

The rest of the walk was pin-drop silent and tense. No more fun facts about Nealson escaped your downturned lips, just the light patting of his beat-up oxfords and your pristine mary-janes on the polished wood floor. The hallways seemed more depressing than usual, their framed portraits and condensated windows didn’t fill you with the motivation that you came to expect.

After finally arriving at the boys’ dormitories, you grumbled, “well, this is it. Have a swell life, Dalton.”

“Right back at ya, Y/L/N. Let’s hope this isn’t the last time we meet.” He gave you a cheeky wink before slamming the door in your face.

[soldmysoultootomeboys]

Demon MC with Human Obey Me Brothers Reverse AU

Okay but what if the brothers were all ‘normal’ humans who ended up summoning a demon, who is MC.

I’m in love with this idea. Lowkey might write a fic about this  jk...unless? Levi’s was surprisingly the most fun to write. Also I guess tw for normal demon things??? Nothing too graphic tho

Part 2

Lucifer

As a human he was a high ranking businessman. While still a formal person on the outside he had a perverse interest in the occult that he hid from the rest of his coworkers.

Due to his important position and large pay he manages to get his hands on some rare books on demon summoning. After a lot of research he tries them out.

When he summons you he doesn't look surprised or afraid and is quite clinical about it at first. The first thing he does is bind your powers so they can never be used against him. After he informs the rules you must follow if you're to be living with him.

Even as a human he is quite prideful and controlling and he wants to remind you who's really in charge.

At first he only sees you as a demon. He lets you do your own thing when he isn't ordering you around and when the two of you do go out in public he only introduces you as an acquaintance of his. People are rather surprised at this as he's not the type to walk around with others and rumors quickly fly off about you two.

It's not until you two are walking home from a shopping trip that you really start to bond. It was a late night and no one was around so the two of you take your time, enjoying the cool air and stars.

All too late that you hear the click of a gun. From the shadows steps a man, weapon pointed straight at you. Seeing your nonthreatening human form as well as Lucifer who practically reeks of wealth he thought the two of you easy targets. Wrong.

With inhuman speed you lunge forward shifting into your demon form. The gun clatters to the floor as you rip him to shreds with no remorse. It's only when Lucifer finally calls you away that you realize he's dead.

Once you manage to get home he is immediately lecturing you about how risky the actions you just did were. Someone could have seen you or more importantly seen him. What would you have done if the cops got involved? Eat them?

Once he's done though he thanks you and a few days later a gift ends up in your room. He never claims it, even though you can smell his cologne all over it.

After that night Lucifer treats you different. Not better, but not worse either. If anything he's a bit kinder but in a cold sort of way and he keeps his distance when anything gets too serious. At first you think its because he's scared of you. It isn't till he finally approaches you, a stern look on his face and orders you to transform that you realize he was working up the courage to see what you really looked like.

The pact urges you to turn, so you do and you let him examine you, circling several times. He's most interested in your wings, asking if he could touch them and when you consent he gently runs his hands over them. Despite you being a demon he treats you delicately shifting aside feathers with a careful hand and running a light fingertip over leathery skin.

It's a strange feeling at first, but not bad and you're practically purring by the end

After that he asks to see your true form more and more

Mammon

He didn't mean to summon you.

He just wanted to make a quick buck. It was getting close to Halloween people were starting to be interested in demons and spooks once again. That's why he thought it would be a great idea to start a seance business.

Twenty dollars for him to pretend to summon a demon, maybe shake a table once or twice, have some scary sounds playing in the background, nothing too big. Who would have known that the book he stole as his main prop would really work.

When he first sees you he screams.

He immediately tries to shove you back into the book to no avail. As he has no clue how to get rid of you he ends up stuck with you, a terrifying demon.

At first its very easy (and amusing) to scare him. Bear your teeth, mumble in a made up language, threaten to rip him to shreds.

You can actually see his soul leave his body when he faints.

However in typical Mammon fashion he gets used to you surprisingly quick, especially when you don't come through on your promise to eat him.

After that he figures that together the two of you could start scamming people for even more money. After all, he does own a real live demon now.

You two make bank stealing and tricking people. With his knack for creating schemes and your powers the two of you are rolling in money in no time, although it always seems to be lost pretty quickly thanks to his terrible gambling habits.

It's in the middle of a heist that something goes wrong. Someone, you don't know who you can only hear the click of a revolver, pulls out a gun. With lightning fast reflexes you’re tackling Mammon shielding him with the tip of your wing and just in time as something is shot into it tearing through muscle and sinew.

The urge to rip them to shreds overtakes you, growing with every second that your human is in danger. But there was so many of them and you couldn't protect Mammon and yourself at the same time. The need to get somewhere safe is much more important so you leave.

It's only your quick reflexes that get the two of you out alive.

When you finally get home Mammon laments over all of the money he lost on the deal. acts like it doesn't affect him. His complaints last exactly till he sees the blood staining your form.

He almost faints right there.

Once he recovers he's immediately running to get ice packs and gauze, fussing over your injured wing. It's obvious he’s worried even though he tries to hide it under his tsundere act. When you’re finally bandaged up he thanks you glancing at your wound the entire time.

It's hard not to appreciate the gesture.

You just don't know how to tell him that your going to be perfectly fine in like two days (thank Diavolo for demon healing)

After this you two are a lot closer. Even before you were friends, but now the relationship has morphed into something different.

The two of you do less dangerous scams and while Mammon doesn't act too different he gets super weird when you're too close. Blushing a terrible crimson and freaking out when you touch.

Even for a demon its not hard to see that he has a crush.

Levi

Also summoned you on accident.

He was actually trying to summon Ruri-chan. You have to admit when it comes to her he does his research. Drew a full pentagram and everything and as a final touch placed a little plushy in the middle.

He absolutely panics when you arrive here instead.

Used to humans being afraid you, you ignore him at first. You fall to one knee eager to pledge your loyalty in exchange for his soul when you land on something squishy.

Pulling it out from under you see a plushy??? Of some anime character??? TF???

This pulls him from his stupor and he snatches it from you and begins to lecture you on the importance of Ruri-chan and anime on human culture.

You have no clue whats going on at this point.

When he finally stops talking he actually gets kind of excited. He summoned a hot demon??? Woah! This is just like his anime 'I accidentally summoned a demon from Hell who became my roommate and now I might be falling for them.' 

At your confused look he immediately turns it on and has you watch it. You two end up having an entire movie night together.

After that the two of you mostly act like roommates.

He often compares you to his favorite series TSL where 7 humans summon a demon named Henry and go on crazy adventures with him. The first time he accidentally calls you Henry he blushes like crazy.

At first he acted like you were annoying him most of the time but it was pretty easy to catch on to his tsundere act. He actually loves having you around and will whine when you have to leave. He says its because he can't play two player games without you but you know the truth.

On the rare occasions the two of you go out he gets jealous of anyone with even the slightest interest in you. Your HIS demon why are you giving someone else your attention?

Its pretty easy to distract him though. Just the slightest touch and hes flushing and stuttering. You can do whatever he won't get the hint that you like him the most.

'There's no way you meant to do this. This must be some weird demon norm I don't know about. Yup that's it.'

Satan

Summoned a demon on purpose. And not just that summoned you on purpose.

With his extensive library he had more than enough information to figure out how to summon a demon. After that it was just a matter of choosing which one. He finally settled on you.

You don't need to worry about explaining how a pact works to him. He already knows everything on it. Maybe even more than you. Nerd.

Don't express this opinion out loud. He will be furious.

Even so he'll still make you tell him about summoning a million times just to see if you know anything different.  

Mostly you’re an over glorified assistant/labrat to him. MC grab that book. MC draw this summoning circle. MC stick your hand in this flame.

Of any of the brothers he is the one who sees your demon form the most and the one who asks the most questions about it. You have very sharp claws what are those used for? Four sets of wings? I wonder why you have so many. Slitted eyes? Do you have any idea why they are like this?

He is very interested in the differences between humans and demons so you end up performing a lot of tests.

He would also be curious about the celestial war and your part in it. Its up to you to choose to answer him or not.

If you ignore any of his questions he will get annoyed and be snippy. But just tell him an interesting tidbit about hell and he'll be back to normal in no time.

As for his actual job he works as a researcher at a big lab. You go there often to help him with his work. He used to have a lot of assistants but none could handle his terrible rage.

Its one of the reasons you work so well with him. An angry human? That's no big deal. Now if he was a demon that would be something to talk about

His tantrums are actually kind of cute. Like a fussy kitten.

Telling him this has a 50/50 chance of either making him blush or rampage.

If its possible he uses you to annoy his colleagues

Janice talked shit about his theories on planetary alignment? Poison her

Jk not really but maybe just, like, make her day a hundred times worse?

Thanks MC you're great

A power team at its best. His need to get back at people he hates works well with your general need to cause mischief 

Asmodeus

An orgy summons you obvious reasons. Although technically not the one who summoned you, you end up making a pact with Asmodeus before the nights over.

It was inevitable really, of all the humans there how could you not choose him? His overblown confidence and cocky insistence that he was perfect was practically adorable. I mean here you are, a demon of all things, and yet this little human is here insisting that he was perfection himself. You just wanted to eat his soul right up he was so cute.

To him its obvious why. After all, he was so beautiful that even demons fell in love with him, he couldn't blame you.

Even if you tell him the real reason he won't believe it.

Immediately starts bragging about how he could seduce demons

If you leave a pact mark on him though he will complain

As for actual duties you don't have a lot

At parties you work as his wingman but at home the two of you have more of a domestic role. He treats you more like a best friend than a demon.

He has a lot of spa days, something he immediately insisted that you take part in too.

One day you bring him a bottle of demon moisturizer. Big mistake

When he finds out about all the different demon beauty products he immediately orders you to get him some.

Your poor wallet.

He's always ordering new things. He really wants to go down to Devildom so he could look himself instead of having to order off Akuzon. One day you'll figure out a way to show him the eternal night.

He's also very flirty towards you, something your not surprised about. Hes always on your lap or petting your head or asking for affection, and he constantly alludes to the things the two of you could do. As time goes on he begins to get even more needy, sometimes ignoring others at parties just to flirt with you. He wants all of your attention all of the time.

Beelzebub

Did not mean to summon you but now that your here hes pretty okay with it

Of all the brothers he the one to treat you the most like another human.  

However you have one duty that you take very seriously

You must protect his brother, no matter what.

Other than that you two are like roommates. He doesn't really ask you of much except to keep the fridge stocked (which is a bigger job than expected this guy eats a lot) and he'll take care of the rent and everything else.

Sometimes he'll ask if you want to head to the gym with him. You thank your demon metabolism since every time you end up going he always stops for burgers and shakes at his favorite place on the way home.

He lifts a lot for a human, no surprise since you've seen how sculpted his body is. Seriously he's like a Greek statue. You spot him while doing reps and help correct his form while necessary. It's a bit of a switch from dealing with demon biology to human biology though so you have to make sure that you don't accidentally hurt your new friend.

Sometimes the two of you have movie nights, although its more of an excuse for him to buy a bunch of human food and you to buy a bunch of demon food and pig out. He still manages to out eat you somehow.

Occasionally the two of you will go out with his brother Belphie although it usually ends up with either you or Beel carrying him when he falls asleep. But it gives you time to chat with Beel on your own which you don't mind

The two of you end up with a good bromance, sometimes minus the b.

He treats you like an old friend and even ends up telling you about Lilith, his dear sister who died when a car hit her. He had only managed to pull his brother out of the way at the time and he still remembers it well. You can practically smell the guilt that hangs off him when he tells you that. It's hard not to feel touched after that story even for a demon.

He confesses a lot of things to you, things he has a hard time saying to other people. He never calls upon his pact to swear you to secrecy. He trusts you.

Belphie

Also summons you on purpose

When you first meet Belphie he's angry, uncontrollably angry. It's at the point where it almost surprises you. After all a human filled with so much wrath is no small feat.

His first order is a tough one but one you have no choice but to accept. 

Kill the man that murdered his sister

The two of you work hard to hunt him down, spending many days brainstorming late into the night. Although it always ends up with just you working, as Belphie has the strangest tendency to fall asleep while talking. (Narcoleptic maybe? Or just lazy?) Whatever the case you don't terribly mind.

Even just his presence helps, in some strange way.

When you finally track him down Belphie insists on going too. He wants to see the man die with his own two eyes.

It's not a hard fight but it is an emotional one. Through the bond you two share you can feel Belphies anger, his pain, his desire for revenge, and then finally an emptiness.

When its over the two of you go home, still covered in whatever bits of him were left. Belphegor shows no emotions and you wonder if hes in shock from seeing someone die so suddenly, but all you feel is a tired yet content thrum through your bond.

When you finally get home Belphegor immediately tries to go to sleep and its only through a little nagging and a lot of manhandling that your able to convince him to shower first. By now the bloods beginning to dry into a nasty goop and once he's done you jump in too, soothed by the steam and clouds of soap drifting around you.

To no ones surprise Belphie is asleep when you get out. It's then when you realize that you have nothing left to do. 

With that one action your purpose here is done, and yet your pact remains. Your thoughts begin to rise Belphie who clings stubbornly to sleep. It's no use though. The two of you are too connected for it to stop. 

You hear the sheets rustle and he raises one hand patting at the covers. A universal sign to come here.

"You're so loud" He mutters even though you haven't said a word. "Just sleep already."

A useless answer but a comforting one. You curl up at his side, feeling the tiniest bit like an obedient dog, but his arm settles over your shoulder and he drapes himself over your chest erasing the thoughts from your mind.

You eyes flutter close, at least for the moment. You can decide what you should do when you wake up.

[santigarcia]

First Time for Everything

a santiago ‘pope’ garcia x reader fic 

word count: 2k+

rating: m for smut feat my watch kink; mentions of pregnancy 

summary: It’s Santi’s birthday and you give him a present~

a/n: i wrote this a couple weeks ago and now im finally posting it!! as many of you know my main blog (damerondjarin) is still incorrectly flagged smh so i made this side blog for posting fics and gifs! and feedback is always appreciated! 

tagging: @punkpascal​, @tintinwrites​, @damndamer0n​, @mandoplease​, @darksideofclarke​, @yougottakeeponkeepinon​, @huliabitch​, @himbopoes​, @mylifeliterally​, @agentpike​, @pascalplease​, @wakalas​

First Time for Everything 

A classic rock song plays overhead. There’s a dull roar of voices overlapping in the sports bar. It’s dimly lit, with deep red walls and a black ceiling. TV’s playing different ball games are over the bar. It’s Santi’s birthday, and this place has his favorite wings.

He was ready to get a to-go order and spend the night with you, but the guys wanted to come hang out and buy him dinner.

So that’s how you ended up sitting in the middle of the restaurant at a tall table. Tall enough that your legs dangle from the bar stool. It’s not your first preference. If you’d could pick, it’d just be you and Santi alone in a booth in a corner. Or better yet just you and Santi home alone and naked.

It’s not that you mind the guys company. You enjoy being around them. They treat you like one of their own. You’re an extension of Santi and they respect you. You make him happy, and he makes you happy; and that makes them happy.

Santi’s hand rests on your thigh as a comfort. He knows being out in the middle isn’t your favorite. He only removes his hand to eat his meal. But he’s right there and that’s enough to bring your comfort.

There’s no keeping it a secret it’s Santi’s birthday, Benny told the waiter something like 8 times. A free dessert will be brought out once the meal is over. All Santi does is laugh, and hey he’s not complaining.

Your husband is a happy man tonight, you pat his tight stomach when he leans back in his chair, full and content. He grunts a little, as it tickles him. He’s about to lean in to kiss you when you swipe a bit of sauce from the corner of his lips.

“What did you get Pope for his birthday?” Benny asks with an obvious tease in his tone.

“I haven’t given it to him yet,” you play along, your face heating anyway when Benny smacks Santi on the back. “There’s something else that he doesn’t know about yet,” you add in.

Santi raises an eyebrow, his hand back on your thigh. His palm warm on your bare skin, and his pinkie finger just under the hem of your shorts. Will and Frankie share a surprised look from your comment.

“Guys calm down I’m not pregnant,” you laugh.

Santi leans in for a kiss, and presses another to your cheek.

“Do you wanna be?” he murmurs in your ear. You don’t have time to answer because the dessert is brought out and a group of singing wait staff crowd around the table. Benny sings loudly along with them, and Frankie can only shake his head with a laugh. Will takes a swig of his beer but joins in the singing. You sing too and plant a big kiss on your husband’s cheek as the dessert is set in front of him.

He gets a big spoonful and holds it up to your lips. His eyes have a secret hidden heat in them as he pulls the spoon from your lips. Then like nothing happened, he tucks into the dessert himself.

He gives you a couple more bites before he finishes it, and this time he wipes some chocolate sauce from the corner of your mouth. Only instead of his finger, he kisses it off.

His hand finds its spot again on your thigh while the conversation turns into goodbyes as the night winds down. The bill has been paid and everyone’s letting their food settle a bit before getting up to leave.

Will and Benny leave together. You stay seated while Will kisses your cheek, and Benny wraps you up in a huge hug. Benny gives you a wink, you know what it’s for. Santi’s gonna get lucky tonight.

They hug Santi and you take that opportunity to turn to Frankie to say your goodbye to him. He adjusts his hat on his head and pops one of his remaining fries in his mouth. He gets up and squeezes your shoulder and smacks Santi on the back telling him happy birthday. Leaving you and Santi sitting at the table.

He flips his hand on your thigh over, his wrist coming to rest on your skin. His palm is open to you, he’s offering you his hand, but all you can focus on is his watch face digging into your skin.

All it takes is one look from you and he’s on to you. He doesn’t say anything, just quietly observes. He presses his watch into your skin just a little deeper and your heart jumps.

Fuck.

He knows.

You’re quick to take his hand and hop off the barstool. The heat of his gaze is too much, and the night has only begun.

His hand is in yours and he follows close behind, he slides up close to you and pulls his hand from yours – putting it on your hip.

“Something you wanna tell me?”

“No,” you smile, which he returns.

“I’ll get it out of you one way or another,” he teases. His ‘threat’ goes right to your core. You know what that entails. He’s right, he has a way of getting you to ‘talk.’

His hand is still on your hip as you walk in the parking lot, Frankie drives by in his truck and honks his horn when he sees the two of you. Santi gives a little two fingered salute at his friend.

Once in Santi’s truck, you lean in and give him another cheek kiss while he starts the engine. He turns to kiss your lips and he hums.

“How’s your birthday so far hmm?”

“It’s been great, honey. But I have a feeling it’s going to get better.”

“Don’t speed on the way home,” you laugh.

He gives you a little wink. You grab his hand and pull it in your lap. Your fingers interlock with his, and with your other hand you rub up and down his forearm.

The drive home is familiar, nothing new to notice. It all fades in the background. All you can focus on is what you’re going to give your sweet husband when you get home.

“So, do you?” his voice pulls you from your thoughts about him.

“Do I what my love?”

“Do you want a baby?” he seems nervous. His fingers flex slightly against yours. “We’ve not really talked about it in a while. Is that something you still want?”

You bring his hand up to your lips and kiss the back of his hand. You don’t answer verbally, just a nod of your head ‘yes.’ His foot presses a little harder on the gas and you giggle behind his hand.

When he reaches your driveway, he pulls his hand from yours. With his knuckle his presses the garage door opener. He pulls his truck in the garage next to your car. He pulls the keys from the ignition and sits for a moment. Still.

“What?” you freeze, your first thought is that something is wrong.

“Honey,” he purrs and lunges forward to kiss at your neck. “I wanna fuckin’ take you in the backseat right now.”

“I have to give you your present!” you squeal while he starts to bite on your neck. His stubbled chin scrapes your collarbone.

“I thought you were my present?” he murmurs and kisses behind your ear. His hands cradle your head, there’s no pulling away.

“That’s not all of it!”

“Fine,” he pretends to pout and opens his door. He unlocks the side door and closes the garage and squeezes your ass when you pass by him into the house.

“Go sit down and get undressed,” you point to the couch when he turns on the living room lights. “I’ll come out with your surprise. Don’t move.”

“Yes ma’am,” he grins and steals another kiss before doing what you ask.

Your stomach flips with excitement, it’s been a while since you’ve put on lingerie for him. You disappear into your bedroom and get the bag out of your closet. Inside along with the garments is his other gift.

You undress and the redress in the lingerie. It’s sheer, thin, and lacey. It flatters your curves and you know he’ll like it. He likes you no matter what you’re wearing.

“Close your eyes!” you call out to him from the doorway. Your hands clutch to his other gift with a sudden bit of nerves. You hope it likes it. “No peeking!”

You can’t help but smile when you step out into the living room, then a rush of heat goes to your core. He’s sitting naked on the couch as requested, feet planted firmly on the floor. He’s sitting up straight, and one hand is covering his eyes. His lips twitch into a smile when he hears you come in. And his nostrils flare when he gets a whiff of his favorite perfume. He’s hard and ready for you already, you love the effect you have on him.

“Can I look honey? You sure know how to kill a man here.”

“Yes,” you tell him. He lowers his hand and his eyes widen. His mouth drops open and his tongue sweeps over his bottom lip.

“Fuck, honey. Get over here,” he laughs. He’s dying to hold you.

“First,” you hand him the small box in your hands. He takes it in his big hands popping it open to reveal a brand-new shiny silver watch. He has a few watches, but not one like this.

“Wow,” he looks up at you, “thank you!” he takes off his tactical black one and slips on the sliver one. “How does it look?” he asks sticking out his arm examining it. His eyes flick up to yours, he knows.

Without warning, he slips his hand between your legs – grabbing your ass with his hand. The band of his watch on his wrist presses into your center. The cool metal sends a chill to your hot flesh through the thin lace fabric. When your knees buckle at the friction, he steadies you with his other hand on your hip.

“Damn honey, look at you.” He presses his wrist into you harder. “Can I unwrap my present now?”

You nod with a smile; you’ve been waiting for this all night.

With a sharp tug, he pulls your panties down, then brings you to straddle his lap. Only when you’re seated does he pull off the sheer bra. A hand clutches your back as his face buries between your breasts to kiss at your chest. His stubble brushes along the sides of your chest and he groans to feel your body on his. His abs tighten with need, and his length is hard and hot in-between your bodies.

“Fuck,” he whimpers when he closes his lips around your nipple. His other hand cups your breast and you moan. He makes a point to dig his wrist into your skin so you can feel the watch. “I didn’t know my watch got you this hot, honey. It’s killing me.”

His eagerness has him pulling you onto his aching length, and you groan in unison. His right hand reaches between you to thumb at your clit. His left hand starts at your hip, his watchband digging into your skin. He moves up your body, the band brushing against you – giving you delicious chills and shudders, which spurs him on to groan. His hand finds a place on your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, but he wraps his fingers around your neck.

You know what he’s doing, and fuck if you don’t love it. His wedding ring and watch – you feel them both against your skin. It’s then he bucks up into your heat. Your hands in need of holding something, your fingers dig into his curls, and you other grasps the back of his neck. You pull his face back to your breasts and he sucks on your nipple again while he thrusts.

His fingers on your clit move faster to pull that sweet high from you. And when you tug on his curls just a little harder, he follows behind you.

“Happy birthday Santi,” you laugh, trying to catch your breath.

“Thank you honey,” he purrs into your neck. “Be honest with me though, was this watch for me or for you?”

“Both.”

He lets out a loud laugh and holds your body closer to him. He leans back into the couch cushions with a sigh. “Don’t get up yet,” he runs his hands up and down your back. “You feel too good.”

He’s softening inside you, but he doesn’t pull out. You nuzzle into his chest, feeling warm and giddy from your high.

“You think we made a baby?” you ask him, and he grunts a little, the idea turns him on.

“That’d be one hell of a birthday present, in addition to what I already got.”

Your chests are pressed together as your breathing slows. You can feel his heartbeat, and he can feel yours. His arms are comfortably wrapped around you, and you don’t move from that spot on his lap for a good while.

“I love you Santi,” you nuzzle your face into his neck. He squeezes you tighter.

“I love you too honey. What a good birthday. Seems like you enjoyed it too.”

“Santi!” you scold him, and all he does is laugh. His chest rumbles under yours.

You hope you do get pregnant; you’d love to have a baby with this wonderful man you get to call your husband.

[maskthesimp]

Cold Blooded, Warm Hearted - Malia Tate x Self-Insert

Warnings: mentions of child abuse, general violence and gore, crude language, monsters

If you wish to follow this fanfic more closely (as it will be a full on book hopefully) check my Wattpad in the Pinned post! It just makes everything easier~ XOXO

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Chapter 1: Paths Crossed

"Bring him," a voice rings out, fire crackles as chains gently rattle against parallel stone pillars. Echoes of footsteps ring through the halls, coming to a whisper as they enter an open space, the ground lined with sand, crunching under the small boots of he who entered the ceremony room.

"You, child of Connor, Lord of the West Territories; Here you shall evolve. Shed your skin, accept your heritage and become one of us! Take your first kill, and burn away the weakness that plagues you," the voice continues to boom through the vast space, voices whispering and muttering as the small figure makes it's way closer to the rattling chains, "Are you ready, my child?" The voice booms as a man groans, his chains shake and knock together, the heat of the fire laying ontop of his skin like a blanket waiting leap and turn him to ash, "...I am!".

Two cloaked men, jam their spears to the ground next to the younger figure, and take their place next to the chained man, "It's time for you to evolve," says the left man, "Shed your humanity." Says the man on the right. A chant erupts in the observing crowd, 'kill, shed, evolve...kill, shed, evolve...'

The young, small figure slowly walks towards the rattling chains, and the bare man constricted by them. He looks at his hands as ash red claws crawl their way out of his formerly human finger tips, wine red scales peel back up his arm, waist, chest, neck, and face, amber rings brand his once ivy green orbs. "Kill, shed, evolve," the two men echo, gripping the edges of two stone bowls on either side of the chained man, filled to the brim with molten rock, glowing with the licks of flames. The ash red claws glint in the light of the flames, and swing down, sending flicks of blood to the ground, as they melt into the already red scales of the young figure's hands.

The chant continues, over and over again, 'kill, shed, evolve, kill, shed, evolve..', the first stage having been complete. The child winces in fear and nearly stumbles back, but holds himself steady, as the two men release the heated rocks onto the scaled child. A piercing scream erupts into a roar as flames slither their way across the child's body, when he opens his eyes in agony, the burning Amber rings are replaced by a now cold, blue glow.

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[Beacon Hills High-school, Last Period]

"Hey do you guys wanna study after hours?" Stiles asks, standing up from his seat. "I need to, I have a maths test coming up soon," Malia responds, a slight pout growing on her face as she reminds herself of her least favourite class. "Cool, I'll help you out!" A tall, dark boy stands from his seat aswell, Scott, he follows his girlfriend, Malia, and his best friend, Stiles, out of the classroom. They make their way up the stairs, running into their resident Banshee, and Stiles' girlfriend, Lydia, eventually reaching the doors of the library.

They settle down at one of the central desks, each opening their books and beginning to study for their respective classes. "Ya know, we haven't had anything supernatural happen in the past few months, it gives me bad tingles in my feet, like something is gonna happen soon," Stiles squirms in his seat with his his chin resting in his palm, Lydia agrees with Stiles, "Yeh you're right, it does seem weird doesn't it? Maybe The Beast was the last big bad in Beacon Hills. Seems fitting that our last one would be the first Werewolf killed by an Argent." Scott turns to his friend, somewhat rolling his eyes, "C'mon Stiles, you're being paranoid! Not everything is supernatural in this town, we can go one year without finding a body, or having kidnappings, or giant phantom werewolves tearing people apart!" Stiles looks down at his open book, a concentrated frown on his face, "Yeh I guess you're right.."

The conversation moves on, everyone but Stiles focusing on other things. A few minutes pass, before Stiles pipes up about a new face who's entered the library,with long brown and blonde hair, light denim jeans, and a black jacket. "Who's that? I don't recognise them from the new Freshmen, are they a transfer student?" The person wanders over to the Anthropology section, also known as where the stories on Mythological creatures are, "I think so, I've seen them at the Jujitsu hall, I think they were signing up," Malia answers Stiles' characteristically unrelated and random question. She gazes off at the new figure, watching them wander around, their raw fingertips glazing over the spines of each book they pass, until eventually they stop and open one, setting themselves down at a desk behind theirs. Scott turns to his girlfriend, a confused expression stapled to his face, "Why were you near the jujitsu Hall? None of us have a single class near there." Malia directs her attention back to Scott and her friends, her focus on the new teen broken, "Hm? I find it entertaining, why else?" She says as if it's blatantly obvious, which to her friends; it is, almost confused as to why Scott would even bother asking. "They seem like they're around our age, I'm just surprised anyone is even bothering coming to Beacon Hills High anymore, let alone what appears to be a transfer student." Lydia looks up from her notes, also oddly transfixed by the person, who is now deeply involved in their own selected book, "You sure they're our age, Lydia? They're kinda short, maybe puberty is stuck in traffic for them," a chuckle comes from the group's friends Liam, Corey and Mason as they sit down next to the main four, with Scott's Beta, Liam glancing at them each one at a time as a silent greeting. "No, they likely have some form of Dwarfism, a condition that essentially puts a limiter on how tall someone can grow, although there's hundreds of different types so I can't for sure say which one they may have.." Lydia responds almost distantly, still keeping a keen yet seemingly misty eye on the new kid, everyone taking a glance at her, not at all surprised by her scientific knowledge anymore, before they all go back to silently watching the figure.

After a while Stiles stands up, and begins making his way towards the new kid's desk, but not before Scott questions what he's doing, "I'm gonna go talk to them! Every time a mysterious new student shows up something happens, what if we have another Liam? Another time bomb?" Stiles points out, accidentally taking a small dig at their friend with I.E.D, "Hey! That was Scott's fault, I didn't come here as a wolf!" Liam retorts, glaring at Stiles with a frustrated gesture, "Well technically you got yourself tossed off the side of a building, so it was sorta your fault," Mason pipes up, "That was the wendigo's fault! Not mine!" The Beta reminiscences over the time he got bitten by Scott, when he fell off the hospital roof after he was hunted by a hungry Wendigo. "Alright enough! I'm going to talk to this kid and see what their deal is, okay?" Stiles eventually interrupts the debate, settling to try and conversate with this strange new face, "Who's to say they're anything at all? You don't need to be suspicious of every new person ya know," Malia points out to Stiles, shrugging her shoulders, "listen I always trust my gut, they transferred to Beacon Hills High even after everything that's happened here, and oh look! They're reading a book on supernatural creatures! That's not suspicious at all!" The skeptic says sarcastically, before stumbling over to the desk the young figure is sitting at.

He sets himself down clumsily, glancing between the person and their book, "So..a fantasy lover?" Stiles awkwardly asks the stranger sitting before him, he looks up from his reading in an almost panicked state, suddenly closing his book most of the way, "Oh um--..Hi, yeh, just studying for History," They let out a small, awkward chuckle before introducing themselves, "Cael by the way!" They reach out, shaking Stiles' hand as he too introduces himself, "So, you a fan of Mythology too, huh?" Cael attempts to break the Ice a little, worried that his social anxiety was showing, "Yeh," Stiles stares at the back of Cael's chosen book, somewhat zoning out while reading the title; 'The Extensive History and Physiology of Dragons throughout History'. "So, you're a dragon lover aswell then?" Stiles questions the kid's taste in History so Cael explains their history project, "Pff no, I have quite the distaste for them in fact, the history project is to study a part of any culture that we fear, whether it be real, religious, or historical events that took place in a Country's past," he awkwardly shifts in his seat, explained away by his discomfort with the Winged creatures depicted in his selected book, "So, what makes you dislike them so much, just scary? Or a separate reason..?" Stiles lightly stares at the androgynous figure sitting across from him with suspicion he hopes isn't noticeable, "Because they're the most scientifically realistic, in most cases," he responds with a deadpan and almost cold stare. Stiles' mind starts running wild with theories on every word Cael spoke, the way he said them, and other meanings of what he could've meant, his gut giving him more feeling than ever that Cael wasn't who they said they were.

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[Scott's House]

"Scott I'm telling you! This kid is shifty as hell! I checked with some of the people in his class, and they don't have a history homework even close to what he described!" Stiles points out his evidence for Cael's lying, showing his continued distrust for the young lad, "Maybe he just wanted to learn about Dragons, people have interests, Stiles!" Scott argues with his friend, while he watches him rummage through his desk, clearly searching for something, "Why would he lie about something like that? What's the point of lying about an interest in something such as dragons? Why not tell the truth, unless the truth is something you wish to keep hidden?" Stiles finally appears to find what he's looking for, he holds up a hard drive that Scott recognises, the Bestiary that used to belong to the Argents.

Stiles plugs in the Bestiary to his computer, and loads up the index. He scrolls down to the Dragons section and look through it for a while, reading some useful parts out loud; "Much like other shape shifters, dragons appear as human...Dragons have various species among their communities...they have a similar hierarchy system to ancient Kings and Queens of the English Empire..." Scott looks over Stiles' shoulder, silently reading along with him, "Stiles you should head to bed, it's late and we can talk more tomorrow. Listen if something is up with this kid, then we'll eventually find out, but other than a natural interest in fire breathing lizards, he hasn't acted suspicious in the slightest." Stiles turns his spinning chair around to face Scott, "Scott, he said he hates dragons and has a fear of them," Scott's face sinks with confusion, he asks what the skeptic is talking about and Stiles responds, "Whenever I was talking to him, he said that he had a really bad fear of Dragons, when I asked why all they said was because they're the most likely supernatural creature to be exist, is that not in the least bit suspicious?" The Werewolf stands up properly, thinking in silence for a few seconds, "Scott you didn't trust me with Theo, or when I realised I was the one who wrote Kira's name on the chalk board, I just need you to trust my gut this one time!" Stiles begs his friend to go along with his hunch, but Scott seems to be somewhat distant, until he snaps his head up "He could be a hunter! Maybe he's not a supernatural but a hunter!" Stiles claps his hands and points a praising finger towards his best friend, "Yes! Now you're following along! That explains why he was researching dragons, he wasn't studying them for himself, he was trying to figure out ways to defend himself or--"

"Kill them.." Scott quickly interrupts, his gaze sinking to the floor, "That's it, tomorrow we inform the rest of the Pack, and we find him. We'll question him, if my hunch is right and he's a hunter, then he poses a risk to all of us. Including any humans who are involved with protecting the supernatural, aka me! I only have a metal bat to protect myself so it'd be nice to have a heads up on this guy!" Stiles retorts with a snarky undertone, Scott nods his head, agreeing and saying goodnight to his partner in crime before heading home, the last thing he needs is his girlfriend climbing through the window to find his room Scott-less.

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[horsepriest]

I did this OC meme on Twitter and got “Do all 40 and ramble on” as a response.  Here is the entire questionnaire and character sheet for Warlord Gresham.  This is fairly spoiler-free for Glimpse and is a snapshot of who he is now.   Content warning for sadism, torture, and Gresham basically being a sick fuck overall. 

Warlord Gresham

Basic stats:

Name: Gresham,     AKA The TwinHorn

Serial Number: W.03-c.017

Gender/Pronouns: Cis Male He/Him

Height: Approx.     15ft at shoulder. Nearly 20ft standing.

Species: Heavily     modified Liberated Vactyr with signs of Other corruption

Size Class: Titan     (Does not meet 20,000lbs requirement for Colossus Size Class)

Sexuality: Undefined

Romance: Undefined

Birthday: Jan.     17

Age: 42

Occupation: Warlord of the Firmament-Highest rank of the Off-world Military and direct servant of Adelie.

Weapons:  Gresham is a pack hunter with a constantly rotating squad of Lost under his direct command.  He keeps a few contained within the large metal pack upon his back, some strapped with weaponry and explosives for the rare times he’s in a pinch.  He is heavily armoured and has a wide range of attack with his long sweeping horns.  Not many are willing to fight him. He is rarely taken out of battle for long- no one’s quite sure what he keeps in his medic bag. Personality:  Overbearing, proud, and sadistic.  He is the spoiled pet of a capricious “goddess” who encouraged every depraved impulse from a young age.   For his twisted sense of loyalty to Adelie, he was gifted the title of Warlord, and thus dominion over a massive slice of the Liberated hordes.  Despite his quadrupedal stance and bestial appearance, Gresham is smarter than one would think.  This makes him a dangerous adversary as he can manage his pack with ease.

 OC Question Meme

1.       How easy is it to make them angry? Do they show their anger or hide it? It is difficult to make Gresham legitimately angry.  Disobedience would probably be the best way to anger him, except it grants him the ability to dole out punishment as he deems fit.  If anything, he gets giddy when one would expect him to be angry. If someone manages to piss him off, he would not be able to hide it and that person will have a fight on their hands.

2.       Do they believe in soulmates? The idea of soulmates is a foreign concept to him.  Love does not mean much to him due to his unique upbringing.  Of course, he has seen other Liberated pair off to be mates but the rationalizes it as purely a mutually selfish interaction that has shaky longevity at best (and he goes out of his way to ruin the relationship, if possible.).

3.       Do they have any pet peeves? Laziness, weakness, and sneakiness irritate him.  He picks on the lazy and those he views as weak through forcing them into training and hard labour.  He’ll focus intensely on subordinates that show signs of sneakiness or insubordination.

4.       Do they have a happy place?  Somewhere to go to in their heads when they need to relax? His happy place is his room and the memories of his activities there keep him relaxed and generally happy.  Gresham is also happy when around Adelie.  She showers him with attention and praise which he drinks up.  Gresham is a good boy.  In her soulless pits she calls eyes anyways.

5.       At what stage of their life were they the happiest? Right after he killed his brother in public combat and proved he was the best and strongest out of the two.  His secondary set of horns were torn from his brother’s corpse as trophies.  He could stand somewhat normally at this stage and still could see.  He looked like a normal, but exceptionally large Liberated.

6.       At what stage of their life were they the least happy? Same stage of life as “Glimpse Beyond the Illusion.”  His life is painful- trouble breathing and generally functioning as his body has mostly broken down. He relies on his pack for basic needs like getting dressed and keeping clean.  He is also suffering from the effects of █████ ██████████ which is different from Mortus’s knowledge of ██████████.  Lastly, Adelie takes frequent control of his Liberation to form him to her liking, on top of the changes from █████ ██████████.  Due to both of these, he has been barred from ever receiving a breeding permit.

7.       At a bar/tavern/pub are they more likely to buy someone a drink, or have someone buy them a drink? He would buy someone a drink, but it’s a trap. Don’t ever accept a drink from Gresham.

8.       Have they ever broken any bones?  If yes, how? Oh definitely.  The guy’s a living tank that takes joy in brutalizing beings on foreign planets and has most definitely broken more bones than your average peaceful human.  Due to his medic kit, there isn’t much sign of this on his body.  The most obvious broken bone is his docked tail, taken when he reached adulthood.

9.       Do they have any memories/experiences they’d rather forget? Not really.  Most of the painful memories are washed over by the rewards he has been given as a result of being a twisted ghoul of a being.  There are probably quiet moments where he ponders how his life would have been if he were never taken under Adelie’s wing, but they are shoved back down into the dark abyss he dares not look into.  

10.   What is their favourite memory from their childhood? Earning his first pack of Lost. Little and loyal and they tended to his needs without question.  Free friends, captive to him and too stupid to disobey.  At first, he regarded them as tools and took good care of them. Once he accidentally killed one (maybe not accidentally), it was replaced.  Now they are regarded as intelligent playthings and extensions of himself.

11.   Do they have a “type” they are usually attracted to? No explicit type.  Any form of love that Gresham is capable of experiencing is extremely toxic and sickening.  He is an abject abuser and sadist; he doesn’t understand love.  Gresham is capable of obsession and his main obsession is Adelie.

12.   Do they have any favourite possessions? His survival knife, his jar of Flow, and his pack of Lost.  

13.   Do they have any tattoos? If no, would they ever consider getting one? They are not traditional tattoos, but he has faint stripes down his back.  They are short and function like Rictus’s, just without most of Rictus’s extra abilities.  For instance, Gresham cannot rebuild objects with them.

14.   Do they have any piercings? If no, would they ever consider getting one? The thought hasn’t occurred to him, so no piercings.  He might not get one, but I could see him forcing them on others in uncomfortable places.

15.   What is their dream house like? He would live closer to Adelie with more space to be able to move around comfortably.  A space that’s easy to clean and sort his pack into their own cubbies. A much more robust torture chamber with more tools would also be nice.

16.   What is something about them that people would not expect just by looking at them? He is intelligent.  Gresham is calculated in how he handles his affairs and prepares for most situations ahead of time.  For instance, he’ll set out his Lost to lead his quarry to him-typically in a pretty narrow place to discourage retreat.

17.   How good are they at choosing gifts for others? Don’t ever take a gift from Gresham, it’s a trap.

18.   Do they have a certain skill that they’re particularly proud of? He is insanely gifted with his knife work and butchery.  He is proud that he hasn’t yet broken the “Warlord W.03-c.017 is not entitled to cull stud XXX-XXXX” part of his special permits, despite getting his “playthings” very, very, very close to that point. He is also proud of how easily he can take what he wants.

19.   How would a stranger they just met describe them? Creepy, pushy, off-putting.  They may complain of the smell of his breath and body odour.  

20.   How would a close friend they’ve known for a long time describe them? A sweet, loyal dog.  Trustworthy and cute, in an ugly way. (Adelie)

21.   Do they have any personal insecurities? Being caught in a vulnerable position by someone that can then gossip about it.  There are a few pilots that lack tongues for this reason.  Others (presumably because their mouths were too damned small) are just tortured into silence.

22.   What is their highest physical stat? (strength, stamina, defense, speed, etc.) and their highest non-physical stat? (intelligence, perception, charisma, luck, etc)? Easily strength and intelligence.  Defense and Perception are second highest. Gresham lacks Stamina or Charisma.

23.   How would they react to finding out someone lied to them, even if it was for their own safety/well-being? Gresham wouldn’t like it as it would be a form of insubordination, but insubordination also leads to punishment which is fun for him.  He’d let the person lie, then set a trap to catch them.

24.   Do they prefer cold weather or warm weather? For █████ ██████████ reasons, he isn’t too bothered by temperature extremes.  If given the option, he’d pick colder.

25.   How easy is it for them to say “I love you”? See number 2.  Any proclamation of love isn’t actual love: Gresham doesn’t understand it.  Though, he probably tells his playthings that he loves them.  

26.   How easy is it for them to tell someone about their worries? He would not be close enough to most beings to talk about his worries, but he monologues with the Lost about his thoughts. Much like number 21, those that have caught him in these monologues suffer grave consequences.

27.   Have they ever witnessed someone die? Yes, and he takes a perverse joy in it each time.

28.   Are they ticklish? No.  If he ever was, he got desensitized to it by the Lost climbing him.

29.   How high/low is their pain tolerance? Very high.  Even before he started developing chronic pain from his many augments, he is still a Vactyr in the Titan size-class.  

30.   Is there something they secretly wish they could do, but are too afraid to? Getting closer to Adelie.

31.   Are they a messy eater or a neat eater? Due to his lack of cheeks and stretched snout, he is a very messy eater.  Thankfully, the most common food available to him is the same soylent available to all Liberated.  However, when he has access to problematic meat, he eats like a T-Rex.  Large chunks swallowed whole.

32.   What moment of their life made them feel most unloved? When he’s reminded of his place in the universe.  While he is one of the few top-ranked Liberated, he is below every Hirudian.  Forgetting this disappoints Adelie who forces him back into his place through her ability to utterly control his Liberation.  She is willing to loan that control to other Hirudians, including Hivemind (but never Argiope), much to his great humiliation and shame.

33.   What moment of their made them feel most loved? The time leading up to and after getting his augments.  Yes, he lost his vision at this point, but he had Adelie’s entire attention as he was prepared for and eventually recovered from the surgery.

34.   Which of the senses would they hate to lose the most: vision, hearing, smell, taste, or touch? Gresham already cannot see, and his sense of smell is affected by his helmet.  He relies mostly on hearing and the secondary Flow-sense that is boosted by his augments and █████ ██████████ - he can sense where organic and Other beings are.

35.   Are they good at small talk? No, not really.  He’s a bit too busy to socialize and lacks the ability to fit in with the Liberated Ranks for socialization.  His off-putting personality and sadistic nature also pushed them away, many of the pilots carry some trauma from being targeted by him and thus naturally avoid him.

36.   If they could ask anyone one question and get the absolute truth, who and what would they ask? To some all-knowing being (so maybe Hivemind): “Am I good?”

37.   If they had the chance, would they prefer to travel to the past or to the future? The past.  Killing his brother again sounds fun and potentially going back to just before his augment so he can be close to Adelie again.

38.   Who had the biggest impact in their life, both positive and negative? Elite Adelie, for obvious reasons. But, Mortus comes to a close second in the next chapter of Glimpse.

39.   Would they rather life a life always surrounded by people, or always alone? He requires his Lost to live and takes a perverse joy in ruining other beings’ lives.  So, while he could potentially find happiness in a life of solitude if he ever had a chance at a normal upbringing… he would pick having others around.  

40.   Is there anyone or anything that immediately instills fear in them? He fears a loss of control to a being not worthy of his loyalty.  He is purely loyal to Adelie and enjoys his rule over others.  Gresham is aware of how easily Adelie can abandon him, he has witnessed her throwing away her other experiments for petty reasons.  In some cases, he was how she threw them away.  He eventually develops a skittishness around electricity.

[recommendedlisten]

It’s been awhile since Recommended Listen has done one of these, but back by popular (content) demand, the weekly Best of the Rest column has returned to highlight the rest of the week’s great music you should know. Leading into it, Massachusetts DIY scene favs Future Teens and Dump Him both tried to figure out ways to move forward while Big Thief are proving to be unstoppable with their creative genius. The return of Vivian Girls is arguably being enjoyed more so the second time around, Chelsea Wolfe’s natural instincts are giving us even more reasons to appreciate her dark art, and NYC post-punks Bodega continue to live up to the promise of being shiny new models. Meanwhile, Field Mouse succeeded at finding meaning in everything as modern punk scene cult hero Chris Faren searched for his within a screen. There’s a lot more to cover here, so let's get down to the music business.

Here’s the best of the rest from the week of August 11th, 2019…

Antagonize - Slip Death EP [Triple B Records]

The last time I saw Aaron Bedard, he was being showered in balloons and kids walking all over each others’ heads as part of the final bow of Bane, the seminal melodic hardcore band who very much helped make the New England hardcore scene what it is today. Bedard returned to the stage a year ago with a new band called Antagonize, and after throwing down some demos and promos, they’ve released their debut EP Slip Death on the great Boston hardcore label Triple B Records this past week (label leader Sam Yarmuth designed its cover art much like he did for the vinyl reissue of the 2001 Bane classic Give Blood.) Bedard’s intensity has not slowed down with the passing of time either. In fact, it’s become exponentially more confrontational as he and the band thrash through fast, visceral existentialist dread. Throw them on a bill with the likes of Fury, Fiddlehead, Turnstile, or any of the countless names coming out of the Triple B roster right now, and Antagonize -- and Bedard -- know exactly what the scene needs at this moment.

Slip Death by ANTAGONIZE

Charli XCX feat. Sky Ferreira - “Cross You Out” [Atlantic Records]

On September 13th, Charli XCX will release her long awaited “proper” third studio effort Charli. Between years of experimental EPs and one-off singles, it’s been awhile since we heard her target her vision for mass consumption with major label approal, and she’s bringing some of music’s most intriguing voices into the fold with her to get that across. We already heard her team with Lizzo on “Blame It On Your Love” and Christine and the Queens for “Gone”. Its latest preview “When You’re Not Around” is one for Twitter pop fandom, however, as it sees Charli XCX joining forces with Sky Ferreira on the A.G. Cook-produced track. The two artists have been heralded as pop music’s most underrated creators for the better part of this decade, so to hear Charli and Ferreira’s paths cross seamlessly into this digital slowburn as they put the collective shit they’ve dealt with personally over the years behind them is a fitting way for it to happen.

Code Orange - “Let Me In” [WWE Music]

At least weekend’s WWE Summerslam, rebooted horror heel Bray Wyatt returned after months of being kept off screen in action with a brand new character persona called the Fiend that saw him evolving from the creepy bayou cult leader of previous and into a psychotic children’s program host who turns into a deranged monster wearing a mask designed by horror film makeup legend Tom Savini. In helping get this new terrifying character’s image over with the crowd and viewers watching was Code Orange, one of the most exciting bands in hardcore and metal going right now, who reinterpreted Wyatt’s old theme “Live In Fear”, a sinister, swampy piece of occult rock originally recorded by Mark Crozier, under its new name “Let Me In” and making it into their own heavy pummeling likeness, adding layers of deeper darkness to Wyatt’s Fiend character in the process. This isn’t Code Orange Kids first foray in soundtracking WWE superstars' themes, as they backed Incendiary’s Brendan Gorrone live as goth anti-hero Aleister Black made his way to ring during NXT Takeover Brooklyn III. Now that Black is on the main roster, inevitably he will cross paths with the Fiend at some point, making you wonder where Code Orange's loyalty will lie...

The Highwomen - “Highwomen” [Low Country Sound / Elektra Records]

The Highwomen -- a.k.a. the country songwriting supergroup of Brandi Carlile, Maren Morris, Amanda Shires, and Natalie Hemby -- are one of the most exciting things to happen to country music this year. On September 6th, they will release their eponymous debut album, and to date, the foursome have proven themselves quickly to be working flawlessly as a well-woven collective where nothing remotely resembling an ego outshine the other in its first coupling of singles “Redesigning Women” and “Crowded Table”. It’s latest is a goosebump-inducing sunset song that hears each member sharing a piece of the narrative that tell a greater story about their ability to overcome all and any hurdle. “We are the daughters of the silent generations / You send our hearts to die alone in foreign nations,” their voices collect in its final moments. “They may return to us as tiny drops of rain / But we will still remain/ And we’ll come back again and again and again.

Miranda Lambert - “Bluebird” [RCA Nashville / Vanner Records]

Beyond the Highwomen, Miranda Lambert is now joining the highly anticipated of new Nashville releases with her seventh studio effort Wildcard, due out on November 1st. Her last effort was the excellently crafted post-divorce catharsis The Weight of These Wings, but judging by the sounds of WIldcard’s first single “Bluebird”, Lambert is getting back to her old high jinks of sorry not sorry whip-smart lyricism and folding them into cool, flawless country-pop. “And if the house just keeps on winning / I got a wildcard up on my sleeve / And  if love keeps giving me lemons / I'll just mix 'em in my drink,” goes its chorus. Lambert’s undefeated streak will likely continue with this as well as her tour behind the LP, which sees her bringing along her Pistol Annies sisters, Maren Morris, and Ashley McBridge along for the ride on select dates for her Roadside Guitars and Pink Guitars tour, kicking off in September.

Octo Octa - “Can You See Me?” [T4T LUV NRG]

Back in July, Octo Octa, the electronic dance outlet of Maya Bouldry-Morrison, dropped “Spin Girl, Let’s Activate”, the leadoff single from her forthcoming third album Resonant Body, set for release on September 6th. The listen was fully in motion with a bright luminosity radiating from with Bouldry-Morrison she says was inspired after a year of tremendous change and personal growth. That expanded energy extends even further in its subsequent listen “Can You See Me?” in which she allows emotions to overflow onto the soundboard through an empath in samples vocals and a cosmic tidal of synth arpeggios running through whichever cracks in its constant break beats they can find. It’s invigorating, and both as a measure of her art and being, there’s really no avoiding Octa Octa’s presence being made known here.

(Sandy) Alex G - “Southern Sky” / “Near” [Domino Records]

Rocket was a very special album in the prolific catalog of (Sandy) Alex G, though it wouldn’t be a surprise if the experimental indie pop wunderkind’s new album House of Sugar, set for release on September 13th, bests it in its own way. So far, we’ve heard the warped and rickety storytale standout “Gretel” and the earnest ode to a friend and place passed on “Hope”, and this past week, he introduced two more in “Southern Sky” and “Near”. The former, which includes an animated video by frequent visual collaborator Elliot Bech, is a country-stained sigh featuring Emily Yacina that hits a similar backwoods bliss that “Bobby” did two years ago, while the latter retreats to pinbacked repetition, wonky loops and samples that warp the canvas with Alex Giannascoli’s signature smeared fingerprints. (Sandy) Alex G will also be touring extensively behind the effort starting this October, with dates featuring the likes of Tomberlin, ARTHUR and Corey Flood.

Taylor Swift - “Lover” [Republic Records]

The last we heard of Taylor Swift was her divisive post-pop call-out Reputation, and with its tinge of industrial bangers and stadium-translating success, it’s safe to say it aged better than what anyone expected upon release. Her new album Lover is on the way next week, and so far, two of its early singles have been absolute dogshit while the other was just so-so. In the streaming era, it comes no surprise that there will be 18 tracks total on the album, which means there’s bound to be some duds. Hopefully they’re more like it’s title track, though. Jack Antonoff seems to be one of the few people who knows what to do with making Swift sound like a breath of fresh air in spite of her missteps in this lash-batting late night bar crawler that is the Jekyll to Swifty’s drunken Hyde. She really could have reverted full-on back to country-pop and easily gotten away with it...

Queen of Jeans - “Only Obvious to You” [Topshelf Records]

The surprises within Queen of Jeans’ sound are unraveling themselves quickly, but in subtle gestures leading up to the dreamy Philly indie-pop band’s release next week of their sophomore effort If you’re not afraid, I’m not afraid. So far, they’ve delivered a devastating blow to the ego in doo-wop form with "U R My Guy” and searched for a way out of a dead end relationship on “All the Same”. “Only Obvious to You” steps away from pastel lights and balloon grandeur, leaving plenty of room fordark space in between two warm bodies for the distance to hit hard. “Love will fuck you over hard,” Miriam Devora repeatedly reminds herself in the listen’s closing moments, and in the listen’s video shot at Philly Pride, they want to do their community a solid by letting it be known that no matter how you love, pain is pain, and your feelings are valid, too. This autumn, they’ll be mending broken hearts on the road alongside tourmates From Indian Lakes.

Whitney - “Used to Be Lonely” [Secretly Canadian]

Someone in Whitney’s camp had to have intentionally planned to have the Chicago country soul duo’s sophomore effort Forever Turned Around be released at the final breaths of summer and the cusp of autumn’s cupping season on August 30th, because “Used to Be Lonely” is the kind of listen that tugs at the heartstrings of both the, uh, lonely and not so lonely, in a way that will make those with someone feel warm gratitude to have someone by their side, and those who don’t romanticize about the day it happens to them. Its accompanying visuals, directed by Austin Vesely, are on point just as well, as it captures a budding romance developing at the kind of midwestern country fair in a small town you’d hit up some weekend in September when you could use a slice of simplicity in your life of how even the most humble moments can feel extraordinary if you’re sharing them with the right person. If not, Whitney will bring it to you when they roll through your city this autumn.

[ss-neokagashi-ss-blog]

Exposing The Illuminati

https://www.ancient-forums.com/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=17895

Exposing The Illuminati The Illuminati order was a Jewish world government movement of Kabbalistic Jews going back to its original origin's in Europe in the 15th century in Spain as the Jewish Alumbrado movement which means "Illuminated or Enlightened" this movement became the Jesuits Order officially and it appears in France later on in the 17th century officially and became known as the Frankist movement and came public again as the infamous "Illuminati" of Weishaupt.  Adam Weishaupt himself was a Jewish Jesuit and Frankist and styled the Illuminati structure and aims on the Jesuit Order and the goal of the order was to bring about a World Jewish Government.  The Jesuit's and Frankists where wings of the same Jewish Kabbalistic  Alumbrado movement. The Jewish power elites who ran the Vatican needed a sword arm of the Jesuits to fight against the anti-Catholic movements that were sweeping Europe and seeking to destroy their foundation of their occult control and power the Church. The writings of the time show the anti Catholic movement was an open anti-Jewish movement and the Gentiles such as the famous anti-Semitic, Bruno [who called the Jews "excrement"]   was one of the leaders of such movement. Bruno wanted to abolish Christianity and return to Paganism which is why he was executed Hellenism [Paganism] was the death penalty under the Jewish Catholic Church. "It was the Jewish Jesuit Cardinal Roberto Bellarmino [1542-1621] who ordered the philosopher  Filippo Giordano Bruno burnt at the stake  on the 17th of February 1600." The Jewish Alumbrado movement: "In 1492 the Alumbrado [The Enlightened] moment was founded by  Spanish Marranos [baptised Jews who secretly kept their Talmudic faith] and a similar organisation was founded in France in 1623 - "Guerients" who changed their name to the Illuminati in 1722." "The Spanish authorities attempted to stop the Alumbrado movement as early as 1527 when Ignatius Loyola was temporarily arrested for his activities with the  Illuminati [my note the Jewish Alumbrado movement]." "Loyola [Inigo Lopez de Regalde], who was of Jewish blood was born in the 1490"s in 1534, he founded his own order the Jesuits taking out  a loan for the purpose. The Pope acknowledged the Jesuit Order on the 5th of Apiril 1540." The Jesuit's where acknowledged by Pope Paul the III who was obviously Jewish from the images of him just as the Marrano, Borgia Popes where well known to be Jewish. "Benjamin Disraeli, author and prime minister of Great Britain in 1868 and 1874-76 himself a Jew, wrote in his book "Coningsby" [London,1844] that the first Jesuits were Jews." Loyola's written texts the spiritual exercises of the Jesuit Order are all known to be from the Jewish Kabbalah. As the Jesuit's are simply a Kabbalistic Jewish movement who control the Vatican and appointed and assassinated  Popes in history. The Vatican's enforcers are occult trained Jews. Most of the Popes in history have been Jewish as well as the Cardinal's and bishops. The Catholic Church was created by the Flavian Dynasty who's first Emperor put up a statue to an Alexandrian Jew who was responsible for creating the Dynasty. It was also run by  Jewish oligarchs. The Bible is Jewish religion and ends with the world being ruled by a global Jewish government of the Jewish King of the world and the 12 tribes of Israel from the New Zion in the book of Revelations. The Catholic revolution in the Roman Empire destroyed the Gentile society to create a new globalist Jewish government under the icon the ideal of the Jewish King of the World that must be worshipped and brought to life from the astral into the material as a working of the mass mind. The Jesuit's symbol is the Cabbalistic image of the Temple of Solomon the Jewish world government in Judaism. The Latin cross is an extended version of the four armed cross of the Kabballah world Malkuth the material world within the circle of the Kabbalah world of Kether the astral and three of the arms of the cross are designed to look like the symbol of the Hebrew Vav letter with three nails [the meaning of Vav in Hebrew] under this image which are symbolized the three nails which represent the VVV in Kabballah, the 666 which is the number of the Temple of Solomon in the Jewish Torah. The name of the Jesuit's come from the Hebrew name Yeshua into Greek as Jesus "Iesous" which adds to the number 6 in its numerological meaning. Of which the IHS the short form of Iesous is over the top of. Which is the first three letter of YES..uah. Three having major importance in Kabballah. The symbol of the cross of Malkuth, earth the material in the circle of the world of Kether the symbol of the astral is the bringing down of the Jewish Messianic   "World to come" into reality the Kabballah world of Kether is the astral the vortex of energy of the Christ thought form the Jews have created. The cross of Malkuth is the material realm they have materialized this working into and the three Vav's are the symbol of the materialization of this the 6 is the union of the astral and material and the materialization of occult workings into full existence the 666 is 6 to its highest power and adds to Chai the Hebrew word for life to bring a working to life in Kabballah. This shows the image of the Catholic Church of Jesus on the Cross is the occult symbol of the Jewish Temple of Solomon. The Jewish world Kingdom. 666 on its own is not malevolent the Egyptians, Hindu's and Greeks used it as a positive number to bring the human into full contact with body and spirit together. This knowledge was destroyed and corrupted by the Jews to remove it form humanity. 666 is given the scare tactic by Jewish Christianity because the Jews want to keep this knowledge to themselves to criminally use it. The commandments against use of occult systems in the Torah is only for Gentile spiritual systems which are forbidden in the Kabballah for Jews to use. And are ordered to be destroyed. They are toxic to the Jewish alien soul. The symbol of the Jesuit's is based on the goal of the materialization of the Jewish occult working of the Christ Consciousness matrix they have created into reality as the One World Jewish Kingdom its designed to materialize for the Jews.  The name and symbol of Jesus  itself is a binding spell based on the number six which connects to this Jewish energy matrix and brings it into reality.  The purpose of the Catholic Church is the Jewish world government this is obvious in the Bible and the symbol of the Jesuits an occult Jewish organization that is based on bringing the thought form of Christ into fully reality and conquering the world for the Jews.   This is why the current Jesuit Pope Francis was demanding the Catholic's pray the rosary as much as possible in October its to feed the psychic energy into this Jewish thought form of Christ at the time the Jews do the most important Torah workings to recharge this matrix of energy for themselves. The Jew Weishaupt who's father was a Rabbi, becomes a new leader in the Jewish Alumbrado movement: "In 1771, 23 year old Weishaupt met Kolmer, a Danish  Cabbalist Jew who had just returned from Egypt. Kolmer initiated Weishaupt.... into the Cabbala and the ALUMBRADO movement." "It was no coincidence that the Order of the Illuminati was founded on the fist of May. Among the Cabbalist Jews, this date, 15 [1.5] symbolised the sacred number of Yahweh [my note the Jewish god] and so became their occult holiday." From Weishaupt's connection in the Kabbalistic Alumbrado movement he was introduced to members of its other wings such as the Frankists: "At this time a young Jew named Mayer Amschel was being tutored to become a rabbi. ....He later took the name Rothschild. It was Mayer Amschel Rothschild who convinced Weishaupt to wholly accept the Frankist Cabbalist doctrine and who afterwards financed the Illuminati. Rothschild had given Weishaupt the task of establishing [my note leading the existing] the old Alumbrado movement for Cabbalist Jews." "Jakob Frank [1726-1791] was the most frightening phenomenon in Jewish history... Rabbi  Marvin S. Antelman shows in his book "To Eliminate the Opiate" [New York,1974] that there was a clear connection between Frankism and Weishaupt's Illuminism. The goal of the Frankists was to work in secret to establish Jewish world supremacy. Professor [my note himself a Jew]Scholem, has clearly documented that they achieved extensive political power." The other powerful global banking Jewish dynasty in this movement next to the Rothschild's to this day are the Jewish Warburgs they another Cabbalistic adept group: "In Hamburg, a powerful Jewish-Cabbalist family grew forth. Their name was [Samuel Moses] Warbug and they also joined this conspiracy of world supremacy." This is where it comes together Weishaupt  was part of the Jewish Alumbrado  this is where he went into and became a trained Jesuit and a member of the Frankists and created the Illuminati and ran this for larger Jewish powers behind the scene. He was simply a well trained agent of Jewish occult espionage who was moved thought these wings of the same Jewish movement due to his qualifications for such. That is why Weishaupt's main agents where all fellow Cabbalist Jews they were all in the same movement working together to bring this agenda about. The Jewish run Catholic Church is in the background as well. "Bernard Lazar, a well-known Jewish author wrote in his "L'Anti-semitisme" in 1894, that exclusively Cabbalist Jews surrounded Weishaupt. Confiscated documents show that of 39 Illuminati holding lesser leading positions, 17 were Jews [i.e 40%]. The higher one looked in ranks, the larger was the percentage of Jews. Even the fact the Illuminate  headquarters in Ingolstadt were later converted into a synagogue was symbolic of this conspiracy Lazar stated that all these Jews became the agents of revolution..." "There were four especially important Jews in the Illuminati leadership, Harwig [Naphtali Herz] Wessely, Moses Mendelssoh, the banker Daniel von Itzig and the business man David Friedlander." The Jewish Cabbalist movement infiltrated the Masonic Societies whom themselves wanted to destroy the Catholic Church and create a free society. And the Jews did this to corrupt them and turn them into useful idiots of the Jewish world government program. They also did this to stop them from destroying the Church the foundation of Jewish occult power.  The fact Jewish Jesuit Weishaupt himself didn't hide, the Jews conqueror from within: "Adam Weishaupt had taught: "To some of these freemasons we shall not even reveal that we have anything more than what the freemasons have... All those who are not suitable for the work he shall remain in the Masonic lodge and advance there without known anything about the additional system. ["Einige Originalschriften des Illuminatenordes"] Munich, 1787, p.300.] "The Illuminati moved freely within the many secret societies of the time seeking to utilise the liberal ideology of freemasonry as bait for those who lacked knowledge of its true purposes. "All Illuminati are freemasons but far from all freemasons are Illuminati," stated Professor Cosandey and Renner from Munich in their testimonies in April 1785." The Jewish movement was able to take control of Freemasonry at the Congress of Wilhelmsbad which was set up by Weishaupt's bosses such as the Rothschild's with help of Weishaupt: "A conference was held at Mayer Amschel Rothschild's castle in Wilhelmsbad on the 16th July 1782, where the freemasons and Illuminati forged a complete alliance. In this way, the leading secret societies  began a closer co-operation with the Illuminati." "At its beginning, the Illuminati was not a Masonic order, and Weishaupt himself did not enter a lodge until 1777, when he received induction into the Lodge Theodore de Bon Conseil in Munich. However, once inside Masonry, Weishaupt immediately saw its potential value to be a vehicle for the realization of his Illuminati dreams. To create an official union between the Illuminati and Freemasonry, Weishaupt set about organizing the Congress of Wilhelmsbad at the Castle of William IX of Hesse-Kassel, to occur on July 16, 1782. That special even, which was momentous in both size and aspirations, was attended by elite representatives of Masonic lodges from all over. It was also there that a decision was reached to allow the previously excluded Jews to be granted admittance into Freemasonry." "When the time came for a vote on their admittance at Wilhelmsbad, the Jews were so anxious to win the day that they completely filled the hall with other Jewish supporters. It was not long afterwards that the Illuminati membership included an abundance of Jewish banking families, including the Rothschild's, the Oppenheimers, the Wertheimers, the Schusters, Speyers, and Sterns." "New lodges of predominantly Jews were formed in Frankfurt the Rothschild's financial capital in Europe, and soon all of Illumininzed Freemasonry would make the city its world headquarters." "The first order of business for the Illuminati-initiated Jews, who were the was to manifest their prophesied Zion, a world ruled by the chosen people of Yahweh. Plans were set in motion for the Jews to finally have their "land of milk and honey" that had been promised to them for so long [in their own Jew minds] and it would be the entire world." From here the Jews were able to take over the important command lodge of the Grant Orient in France and its associated Lodges. This gave them occult control over the French revolution. "Weishaupt had earlier sent the Jew Giuseppe Balsamo who presented himself under the false title of Count Alessandro Cagliostro, to France so that the Illuminati would control the French Masonic orders." It was the taking over of the Masonic Jacobin's clubs that gave the Jewish movement political control over the French revolution: "The Illuminati  took over the Jacobin clubs already in 1789. 152 of these clubs were active on the August 1790, according   to the Encyclopaedia Britannica. The Jacobins had a centralized network over all France. The first club was taken over by Weishaupt's close collaborators Bode and Baron de Bushce. ... We must not forget that one of Weishaupt's titles was "Patriarch of the Jacobin's"." This is the important part when the Jews created the "Jacobin Republic" and officially took over the French Revolution they created the "Commune" ended all liberties and brought in the "Terror" created secret police forces identical to their Cheka later on in Russia and exterminated over half a million French innocents and destroyed France as a nation on every level. "Jewish "revolutionaries" immediately saw to it that the Jews received full citizenship and so that they had their hands free to act. Maximillian Marie Isidore Robespierre [my note the leader of the Jacobin Republic] published a work entitled "To Protect the Political Rights of the Jews" as early as in 1789 [my note around the start of the French revolution]. Protection of Jewish rights was obviously considered the main priority.  Louis Joseph Marchand, friend of Napoleon Bonaparte, wrote in 1895 that Robespierre was actually Jew by the name  of Ruban....["In Napoleon's Shadow." San Francisoco,1998]. This is where the obvious is witnessed the Jewish run Illuminati, Jacobin Republic established a Communist society the Commune, the Jacobin Republic was the political arm of the Jewish world government movement and the Jacobin's where lead by the Jesuit agent Robespierre who was a Jew named Ruben...… It was Ruben  who executed the actual Mason's who where working to ABOLISH THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.  The Jew Robespierre reinstated the Catholic Church and Christianity totality into French society, reinstated the Catholic Priesthood and Church lands and wealth and the Christian ritual which had all been banned by the Masonic members of the government. This was to maintain the Catholic Church which is the occult foundation of the Jewish power structure. This creates the psychic and material base for the Jewish agenda of world government. Without the Catholic Church and Christianity that can't survive. This is why the Jewish Illuminati infiltration of the Mason's replaced the Hellenistic [Pagan] Masonic spiritual teachings with the Jewish Kabballah and Christianity from its Pagan anti-Christian doctrines. To bring them under control of the Jews and use them to build the Jewish world government now the name of god in the 33rd degree is one of the Jewish god YHVH.  The Jew Ruben under his leadership of the Jacobin Republic set up a pseudo Masonic religion which was nothing more then Christianity. And this was noted by the witnesses of the time. This was to destroy the Masonic movement totally and keep Christianity going. Which is why the Jewish Jacobin Republic abolished the Masonic Lodges and shut them down and sent many of their members to the execution docks during the Terror. Just as their Jewish brethren shut down and liquated the Masonic Lodges they used to bring the Communist revolution to Russia, once they had power. They where useful idiots who had played their role. They in France like in Russia where executed so they would not become a force of counter revolution once the Jews had dropped the mask and revealed their real purpose. America was also attacked by the Jewish forces of the Illuminati. "George Washington, who had become a freemason in 1752 when he was 20 years old, also attempted to oppose the Illuminati's work in America after he was convinced in 1796 that they posed a threat to the nation. Due to this, Weishaupt had made plans to murder Washington if he became too troublesome. [Neal Wilgus, "The Illuminoids", New York, 1978,p.33.] The Jews did finally attempt to murder Washington and overthrow the new American Republic when the new nation's government was still in Philadelphia. Illuminati agents from France poured into America on orders from the Jacobin Republic's Jewish leader Ruben acting mostly likely on orders from fellow Jew, Weishaupt. Philadelphia the capital only had 28,000 people living in it. The Illuminati agents organized and funded a 10,000 man mob of insurrection led by them and who where trucked in from elsewhere for an organized assault on Philadelphia the open goal being to overthrow the government and execute Washington and end the American nation. Thankfully a yellow fever outbreak occurred and decimated the Illuminati forces and chased the rest out of the city for fear of plague. Adam's wrote to Jefferson a decade after this attempted coup by the Illuminati and told him they nearly lost the nation and where only saved by the outbreak of fever.   Washington passed the Alien and Sedition Act into law after this for the reason of combating the Jewish Illuminati in America. Under this act dozens of French Illuminati agents where arrested and imprisoned and thousands more fled America back to France.   Something to note Franklin probably witnessed how the Jews had overtaken France in the Revolution and wanted to protect America from the same fate as Franklin made this demand the year the French Revolution started: "In 1789, the publicist, statesman and scientist Benjamin Franklin [1706-1790] himself a freemason, demanded that the United States of America defend itself against the Jewish immigration and influence with the help of the constitution, since the Jews had become a state within the state." The Illuminati just the wing of the Jewish organization of the Catholic Church. "The mighty finance dynasty of the Rothschild's was born out of the French "revolution". The Rothschild's are still in control behind the scenes today, especially within the European Union." This is why the Rothschild's are the bankers of the Catholic Church. The Church is run by the Jesuit's the same Jewish Cabbalistic order the Frankist's are another wing of, the Rothschild's are leaders of the Frankists and they are working together with the Jewish run Jesuits the leaders of the Church for the same Jewish world government. The Communist Ideology was created by the Jesuits and perfected by them. This was exported to France with the Jacobin Commune. Later the Jacobin's would change their name to the Communist League. Which was the same Jewish Cabbalistic movement marching into a new day.   This is why the Jesuits created and organized "Liberation Theology" which is Christian Communism and spread this to aid in Communist revolution in Latin America. This was the system they already created and perfected centuries before they where bringing out to the  public again. The current Jesuit Pope Francis when he was the Bishop in Argentina ordered Liberation Theology to be preached in all the Churches for assistance in the conquest of Latin America for his Jewish brethren's mission of the Jewish world government.  Francis the Jesuit Pope was put into power to do one thing rebuild the image of Jewish Communism to the world and use Church political and monetary power to push towards the agenda of the World Jewish Government. "Since Jesuits educated Weishaupt , he was familiar with their experiences of creating totalitarian societies and his prototype was above all the totalitarian and theocratic rule, which the Jesuits enforced, in spite of the Spanish central power in Paraguay in 1609. This slave state existed officially for 159 years, up to 1768." "The Jesuits followed a kind of  communist method, using cunning and violence. Guarani Indians of both sexes and all ages  were put to forced labour for the mission. The Indians did not have any personal property. All the produce as gathered in communal storehouses. Whatever food and clothing the Indians needed as well as the general needs of the commune, were distributed from these . The Jesuits oversaw the work in a factory manner.  The Jesuits enforced work duty .The supply of food and other necessities to the Indians depended on the results of production. The power structure was centralized and work was performed in groups. The commune even organized entertainment. When punishment was meted out the Indians were made to kiss the hand of their executioner, thank him and express their remorse. The commune leadership was comprised of Jesuit priests....The Jesuits aspired to create an independent state...An interesting fact is that primarily Central European Jesuits [of Jewish stock] were chosen as leaders of the Paraguay missions. Paraguay was an example of standardisation, the "right of co-determination", the factory mentality, communist methods, an iron curtain...politurks, servitude, violence, propaganda and militarism,. The Indians where turned into helpless, dependent creatures. Their chances for spiritual development were curbed. Special Jesuit priests [like   politruks] indoctrinated the Indians not to express their dissatisfaction. Information about the real conditions eventually reached the outside world despite all hypocrisy and double-dealing. In 1759, the Jesuits were ordered to release the Indians and abolish their isolation system.....King Carlos III of Spain expelled the Jesuits from all his provinces in 1767. The Jesuits in Paraguay shared the fate of their brothers. One year later, in 1768 they officially left their missions without resistance, missions which had, through their communist way of life, stifled the spiritual development of the Indians. Thereby the Jesuits had gathered experience of indoctrination the exceedingly freedom-loving Indian nations and of changing them into obedient slaves in their commune." The Catholic Church was never harmed in Communist Nations in fact it has the support of the Communist governments. The Catholic Church rules Communist China arm in arm with the Asian and western Jews who control Communist China. There are close to one hundred million Catholic's in China who are allowed total practice by the Communist government when Falun Gong a Gentile Taoist movement is brutality oppressed and its members murdered and imprisoned were many are killed in the prison system to sell their organs on the market. Spiritual knowledge and practices are the ultimate danger to the Jewish agenda which is why the Jewish Jesuits ran the Inquisition. Which is why Mao banned all spiritual practices and put Taoist Chi Gong masters in camps and any teaching or practicing of such was punished by death during the cultural revolution which was organized by western Jews. And why the Jewish run Christian program executed all Gentile spiritual classes and destroyed their teachings. The only religion Gentiles are allowed is a fake religion in which the Gentiles empower a Jewish occult working to enslave the world. The Catholic Church, Jesuits, Frankists, Illuminati, Communists are all external wings of the same Jewish race long march thought the ages and world to bring about the one aim of the Jewish race. The global Jewish Kingdom. And the Jewish Kabballah is the center, heart and key to the entire Jewish goal. Which is why the entire leadership of the Jewish world government movement have always been and still are adepts in the Jewish Kabballah. The entire Jewish occult system of the Kabballah is based on the 22 Hebrew Letters the three levels of Kabballah the Creation by the Word, Merkava and Forbidden Practices [Forbidden meaning Gentile spiritual systems this branch deals with occult warfare against Gentiles its their black magic system and which they use for cursing] are all based on the 22 Hebrew letters. The only way to defeat the Jewish world government is the Final RTR which destroys the astral or Kether aspect of the letters and renders them Klipoth or empty husks in the material which causes their entire infrastructure to collapse. The Kabballah Jewish Adepts warn in their texts reversing the Hebrew letters and words which are all based on the 22 Hebrew letters is their one Achilles heel that can destroy them and this is to be guarded against. Sources Under the Sign of the Scorpion, Juri Lina The Coming Gnostic Civilization, Mark Pinkham

[bussanbaby]

With the sun setting over New York, Magnus and Alec stumble through the main door, letting it click shut behind them. With his arm around Magnus’ back, Alec leads him over to the couch, supporting a big part of the warlock’s tired weight. The loft is alight with golden rays of the sun, everything so seemingly peaceful compared to what they had gone through just a couple of hours earlier.

It’s almost like the stressful day had never happened, but the lines of exhaustion, both physical and mental, are obvious in the furrow of Magnus’ brow, in the way he slumps into the soft seat with a bone-deep sigh. With his elbows set on his knees, Magnus rubs at his face with his fingers, not even paying much attention to his eye makeup, with how distracted he is.

When they returned from the core maintenance room, a little bit ruffled and still coming off the high of adrenaline, the OPS centre had been a mess - Jace held Raj pinned down against the table and a couple of other lower-rank Shadowhunters were stood by the far wall, guarded by Izzy and Clary. Alec should’ve expected the opposition to his idea if he had to be honest, given what has been said about him in the recent weeks by some of the staff  - at least everything worked out despite Raj’s interference, they’re all alive, the plan worked, and the Institute is still standing where it should be.

At first, Magnus just seemed tired, out of breath and jittery with all the magic that had been running through his fingers just moments before, but as they made their way back home, the excitement wore off, swapped for heavy limbs and a sleepy smile.

Magnus leans against the couch, letting his head fall back against the cushions, looking up at Alec who’s standing in parade rest, hands clasped behind his back.

“I don’t think I’ve taken a cab since the New York Knicks won their first NBA championship back in the seventies,” Magnus muses, his lips quirked up and eyes twinkling with what has to be a mix between nostalgia and mirth.

Alec shrugs off his jacket and tosses it onto the blue armchair, rolling his shoulders. He can feel a headache coming on, a slight throbbing in his temples, probably as a result of Lorenzo going on and on about every portrait of him and all the various ways each artist has captured the essence of his smile; people bickering around him all day and questioning his authority perhaps had something to do with it as well.

“What about a martini, a hot bath, and a steak, medium rare?” Alec offers, coming up behind Magnus to set his palms on his shoulders, kneading the tense muscles there.

A noise akin to a moan wrings itself out of Magnus as he pushes into Alec’s touch, eyes dipping closed with bliss.

“You read my mind, darling. But the bath comes first, I feel like I got hit by a bus.”

“Pure angelic power can do that to you,” Alec chuckles, pushing his thumb into a very tight knot of muscle in the junction of Magnus’ neck. “You sit tight, I’m gonna go and start the water.”

Alec kicks off his shoes and heads to the bathroom, turning the knobs until steam starts rising from the water and then adds in the bath soaks and essential oils. The scents mingle together, creating a lovely aroma of flowers and herbs. When he turns back, Magnus is standing at the entrance, shoulder pressed against the doorjamb, his eyes half-lidded and a soft smile on his face.

“Go ahead, I’ll be right back,” Alec says and Magnus nods at him as he starts to shrug out of his suit jacket with a grimace.

Socked feet padding across the floor, Alec beelines for the apothecary and towards the second-top shelf in the corner of the room. He’s looking for a small, jade-glass bottle with a dropper on top - he finds it way in the back, still half full.

Magnus is already halfway through unbuttoning his shirt which halts Alec’s steps as he decides to just enjoy the moment. Hearing a noise, Magnus looks up with the hint of a smirk playing on his mouth.

“Enjoying the view, are we?” he quips, making quick work of the rest of the buttons and slipping out of the shirt to hand it over to Alec.

“Don’t mind me, go on,” Alec chuckles, folding the shirt haphazardly to deposit it on top of the laundry hamper. Unsurprisingly, his gaze drifts back to the expanses of Magnus’ chest, tempting Alec to run his fingertips against Magnus’ sternum and down his stomach.

“How about you join me? The bath’s big enough for two,” Magnus proposes with feigned innocence, shrugging one shoulder as he works on undoing his pants - it’s a bit more difficult to do without magic (and when the belt buckle is in the back).

Alec holds his breath for a moment, tempted by the suggestion. He should catch up on reports for the day, consult Izzy about the demonic possession footage, but Magnus is right there to hold and the water looks so deliciously warm that he can’t help himself; he breathes out.

“I could use some down time,” Alec aims for an unaffected tone, but Magnus sees right through the facade, raising one questioning eyebrow. Alec rolls his eyes fondly. “Oh, shut it.”

Magnus breathes out a laugh as Alec steps closer to him, deft hands helping to set the buckle free and tug the belt out of the loops. This close, Alec allows himself to look, to take in every line and curve of Magnus’ body, the way the late afternoon light makes his skin glow better than any highlighter he has on his vanity.

This is not about the sexual kind of closeness, not this time - it’s about the feeling of safety, winding down in the presence of the person you trust with your life, letting the walls down, figuratively and literally at once. It’s about taking care of each other.

Magnus’ wide shoulders are slumped slightly and he seems ready to fall asleep across any horizontal surface when Alec grabs his hands gently where they hang at his sides, aware of the sore spots magic has left behind. “Take some of my strength.”

Magnus pulls his eyebrows together and tilts his head in a half-aborted headshake.

“Alexander…”

“Come on, even a little bit, just so you can get your mojo back quicker,” Alec insists, running his thumbs over the blue veins on the insides of Magnus’ wrists.

With the first touch of magic, Alec shivers as it tugs on his core - it’s not uncomfortable, per se, but it’s a strange feeling nonetheless, like an incorporeal arm reaching up along his spine, careful fingers searching his body for angelic power. By now, it has become somewhat familiar to him, the sensation of Magnus’ magic being something Alec’s soul leaps toward without a second thought.

Magnus takes a deep breath, already seeming more awake than just moments before as the energy continues to trickle between them through their linked hands. It slows to a stop and Magnus tilts his chin up to brush his lips against Alec’s. “Thank you.”

“This, as well,” Alec murmurs after they kiss, pulling the little potion bottle from his pocket and holding it up for Magnus to see.

Magnus opens his eyes, then purses his lips when he recognizes his own concoction, clearly labeled with curled handwriting.

“My rejuvenation serum? How did you know where it was?” he asks, seeming positively surprised and almost impressed, even with a task as simple as this.

“Well, I listen to you, believe it or not. Also, I spend a lot of time in the apothecary with you.”

Alec hands it over, watches Magnus uncork it and deposit two drops of it on the back of his hand before licking it off. He scrunches up as his nose at the supposedly bitter taste and Alec can’t help but smile with fondness.

“I don’t doubt that, you do tend to stare at my lips quite often.” Magnus sets the bottle aside after sealing it up and gets back to taking off his clothes without a hitch in their conversation.

So, he has noticed.

“I don’t stare, I appreciate,” Alec balks at Magnus’ words, huffing as he pulls his henley over his head, dropping it onto the floor. “And you can’t blame me, really, since they’re so lovely.”

Alec is just telling the truth as it is - he’d kiss Magnus constantly if he ever had that option. And it’s not that he doesn’t pay attention, since he always values what Magnus has to say; sometimes his eyes just drift down to simply watch his boyfriend talk, to follow the curve of his lower lip as he pouts, lost in his own thoughts, or learn over and over again how they stretch into a smile, so tantalizingly close.

Magnus pauses, fingers hooked into the hem of his boxer briefs. “But are they more exquisite than Lorenzo’s fabrics?” he teases, his voice tinted with laughter.

“Magnus, I was winging it! He didn’t exactly give me much to work with,” Alec explains as he tugs his legs free from the confines of his jeans, having to take a step to the side to prevent himself from toppling over. “Well, until he started talking about himself being used as a baby model by an artist.”

At that point, Alec was just guessing his answers - apparently he had luck on his side, since that baby looked nothing like Lorenzo himself.

“El Greco?” “Yeah, how did you know?”

Magnus stops the water before the bath fills up too much and dips his fingers in, testing the temperature. His back is turned to Alec, but he can hear the disdain in Magnus’ scoff loud and clear. “Because he tells that story to anyone who has the patience to listen.”

He does seem like the type, Alec thinks. It took them maybe twenty minutes just to go through one room and he’s not even sure how many more there were. In some sort of way, Magnus making noise saved Alec from further extensive Lorenzo Rey history lessons.

“I thought he was going to talk my ear off about all of his antiquities! Your loft isn’t modest by any chance, but Rey’s just showing off with that mansion chock full of expensive crap.”

Almost simultaneously, they both tug their underwear down and step into the water, holding onto each other for balance.

The water feels blissfully hot against Alec’s skin, washing against his calves in little waves as Magnus sits down by the more rounded edge. He motions for Alec to come closer and moves them around until Alec ends up with his back pressed against Magnus’ chest, and with curious fingers tracing paths through the dark hair on his chest.

“Oh, I know! He’s always been like that, loving any attention coming his way. He thinks he’s the Jay Gatsby of warlocks.” Magnus’ voice resonates straight through Alec’s torso and he can already feel his own stress draining away - the problems with the Institute, the Greater Demon case - nothing exists in that very moment, just Magnus as a solid weight behind him and the water around them, tinted a faint purple with lavender.

Alec imagines Lorenzo in a Gatsby get-up, having read the book back in the days when he had free time, but then another, better fitting character comes to mind. Alec smiles to himself, a laugh bubbling up in his chest at the vision of the new High Warlock in a sparkly 20s’ dress.

“In reality, he is more of a Daisy, who also needs to hang back on the hair pomade. That ponytail is slicker than his attitude.” Alec tips his head back onto Magnus’ collarbone, as Magnus laughs shamelessly at the jab, making the water ripple around them with each breath; it’s Alec’s favorite sound.

He closes his eyes for a moment, tangling his fingers with Magnus’ and pulling their hands to rest on his stomach. Then, he adds, “He is so full of himself, he didn’t even realize I was just buying you time with the compliments.”

“Such an ass. And you did so well, my dear. I’ve never heard you talk with such passion about ceilings!” Magnus nods exaggeratedly, poking fun at Alec’s ‘professional’ acting skills; for how long he’s been a Shadowhunter, anyone would think he’d get better at acting, but alas it’s never been Alec’s strong suit, leaving him slightly panicked and searching for topics to grab onto. Considering the sudden circumstances of their heist, Alec is still proud of keeping his cool long enough around that pompous buffoon.

“I had to improvise somehow, I couldn’t let him see you making faces from behind his fancy couch. But you would make an excellent spy.”

Magnus chuckles, dropping a kiss on top of Alec’s messy hair that probably still smells like sandalwood. “We should start our own detective agency - Bane & Lightwood, here at your service. For the right price, of course.”

It’s a nice thought - Alec and Magnus, working together, solving crimes and helping people in need; kind of like they do now. Maybe in the end, their lives wouldn’t turn out so differently.

“That’s our retirement plan, then.”

It’s both casual and monumental, hanging in the air between them. Magnus stills above Alec, his chin resting against Alec’s head, who can sense him tense up a bit, before relaxing back into the water.

“I’m already looking forward to it.” Magnus’ voice snags on one of the words, gaining confidence as he finishes his sentence, having made up his mind about whatever thoughts he chooses to keep private for now. “I appreciated your help today. I would rather have you safe and sound somewhere else, but you being there with me meant a lot.”

Alec is glad to see Magnus open up more about his thoughts and feelings, as it allows them to understand each other better. Sometimes it’s easier to leave certain things unspoken, but they’re trying to go against that, to keep themselves open instead, to allow themselves comfort, understanding, and honesty - the cornerstones of a relationship to outlast time itself.

“Of course. I told you, I go wherever you go and if it means into danger, then so be it. I’m not leaving your side, never again,” Alec confesses, squeezing Magnus’ fingers between his.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” Magnus chuckles, tightening his embrace around Alec and making something warm bloom in his chest. Alec laughs as well, closing his eyes.

“Once or twice.”

[deitiesofduat]

I was wondering if u can do a bunch of random facts/headcannons for the main cast?

Oh man, I mean, I’m happy to try, but I’m not sure where to start for the entire cast of 10… well, now 11 gods. I know have some that are scattered around the blog’s tags, and also in places other than tumblr, but It’ll take me a bit to find them or think of new ones without revealing spoilers, hmm…

So here’s what I’ll try that’s similar to the 1 Like 1 Fact meme I did on twitter a while ago: for every note this post receives, I’ll add a DEITIES-related headcanon or fact about the main cast. The main cast includes Set, Horus, Anubis, Osiris, Isis, Nephthys, Bastet, Sekhmet, Thoth, Ra, and nowwwww Sobek – and maybe the Set Spawn and the big bad serpent too, if relevant. You can add a note by +liking this post, and if you’re interested in learning about a particular deity, you can mention their name in a comment (and it’s not necessary to reblog this, unless you want to!).

This should help give me a bit more focus and time to think of some decent non-spoiler headcanons/facts to share. I’ll come back to this post in a few hours and add any many as I can, depending on the amount of notes it receives, and I’ll bump and place them under the cut for easy access. So yeah, go for it /o/!!

[1] Been playing with a headcanon where Horus’s Eye can see an object’s or person’s weak spots – though only for like, a moment once it’s activated, cuz I’ve wanted to avoid him being OP (but then again… he’s a literal god… so >>)

Also a related-headcanon where he can see a person’s past injuries thru his Eye too, including the hidden ones that have long-ago healed and left no visible scar. I’d like to draw the ones he “sees” on others one day if I keep it…

[2] Set is the only one of his siblings that doesn’t have an avian sacred animal, and for a while I wanted to keep it that way and literally keep him “grounded” compared to his family (sans Anubis). But I found that he’s sometimes also associated with crows (and falcons??? interestingly enough), and even though I haven’t found solid evidence of this yet, I also like the idea of him being associated with bats even before I read about it in Kane Chronicles I swear– So those 2-3 animals are probably some alternate animal form that he has but just rarely takes.

[3] Actually while I’m at it– aside from the Sha Animal, here’s a list of 30-ish animals that I keep as Set’s canon forms in DEITIES verse (based on a combination of historical speculation, recorded myths, and personal headcanons), and would love to eventually draw him as one day:

Aardvark, African Wild Ass (and Donkey), Giant Anteater, Baboon, Bat, Boar/Pig, Bull, Camel, Crocodile, Crow/Raven, Dog (some sort of sighthound?), Fennec Fox, Fish (Eel?), Gazelle/Antelope, Giraffe, Goat, Goose, Hare/Rabbit, Hippopotamus, [Spotted] Hyena, Jackal, Jerboa, Okapi, Oryx, Panther, Rat, Scorpion, Shark, Snake (Viper), and Zebra/Quagga.

[4] RELATEDLY… I REALLY REALLY like the idea of Set somehow acquiring a Thylacine form even tho it’s in no realistic way in the current timeline because thylacines weren’t native to Africa let alone Egypt. BUT… I JUST… THEY REMIND ME OF SHA ANIMALS SO MUCH o)——–

[5] When I was considering the color schemes for the main cast, I once briefly envisioned a purple/violet scheme for Nephthys, but decided to scrap it because (1) I wanted her colors to contrast with her sister’s and match a bit more with her husband’s and son’s and (2) I found that purple was nigh impossible to find in AE wall art and admittedly worried “maybe it won’t look authentic if I use those colors;;;”

Even though I’m happy with her orange/black/red scheme now, I’ve recently found that purple is a common association / kemetic UPG (or doxa?) with her?? SO THAT WAS INTERESTING… I don’t think I’ll change her color scheme for DEITIES, but maybe I’ll draw her in an alternate purple outfit one day to see how it looks on her >>

[6] One of the reasons why I like Horus, Anubis, and Bastet as their own casual friend group in DEITIES verse is that, because they’re all relatively young gods, they all share the experience/pressure of being measured up against their older royal relatives – Horus being seen as both his father and mother’s legacy and feeling the pressure to restore his family’s throne; Anubis being know for his infamous father, and even having his paternity questioned (via rumors and “myths”); and Bastet being the youngest of Ra’s daughter, sometimes being compared to her sister’s roles and achievements.

They’re all really good at masking any pressure they feel, but they also probably confide in each other about it more than with others, cuz they’ve all “been there.”

[7] Relatedly, one of the earliest version of DEITIES Project, before it was known as “Deities Project,” had Horus, Anubis, and Bastet as the main trio. That’s been changed “for reasons” since then, and their characters were quite different back then, but it might be fun to explore a story that focused on the 3 of them someday.

[8] Okay ya’ll know the part during The Contendings where Horus and Set are racing in stone boats and Horus “wins” by painting his wooden boat to look like stone? I have ideas for how that entire race happens in DEITIES verse that would be fun to explore as a side story, but in order for me to give Horus a “legit” way to win without outright cheating, he covers his boat with stone casing/accents, and after he wins and is confronted about it… well…

HORUS: “The rules we agreed on were to sail a boat made with stone. They said nothing about it needing to be made entirely out of stone.”SET: “…”HORUS: “ :)c ”SET: “…” *Internally raging*

[9] I’ve headcanon’d that Nephthys has her own set of ~7 Shabti who act as her personal assistants while she’s conducting her nightly duties, or working around her home, but I haven’t decided much more past that (still debating on how she acquired them, and if she more-than-likely named them…).

The concept and number were loosely based on how many of the other goddesses had their own sets of 7 as extensions of their power and/or control (7 Ribbons of Hathor, 7 Arrows of Sekhmet, Isis’s 7 Scorpions), and I thought it’d be neat if the Goddess of Service had her own Shabti that exemplified that part of her domain.

[10] Thoth is an avid lover of puzzles, trivia, and strategy games, and he’s also exceptionally skilled at games of chance. He doesn’t gamble or make bets often because he understands the risks, but when he does he tries to be calculative about it… and also has a natural knack for luck going his way (EX: That one game of senet that he won to help assist Nut with having her children… which is another story for another day)

[11] Ummmmm Isis is the only one of the main cast who I haven’t drawn a ref of her sacred animal form yet… or at least, not digitally. Her animal is the kite, but I’ve been debating on a while for what species to base her design on. I like the idea of her kite form looking like the Black-winged Kite, although those species aren’t native to Egypt… but some are native to Africa… and they’re so fricken pretty and they fit her colors so well so I might cave on this ffffffffffff–

[12] While we’re on the subject of sacred animals (and to help me get somewhat closer to the note count lmao I’m trying guys–), Horus’s falcon form is based on both the Peregrine falcon and the Lanner falcon, with more simplified markings for my own sanity when I draw him in dozens of panels.

At one point, I considered making his falcon form leucistic to contrast more with Anubis and Set, buuuuuut I also liked the brown colors on the falcons’ normal coloration, so I kept it. (That and more leucistic birds of prey are hawks, so… maybe for Khonsu tho if I don’t change him to an owl, hmmmm…)

[13] Okay continuing thoughts on animal forms, Bastet is able to shift her cat form into nearly any coloration or breed she desires (aside from her eyes, which remain green), but for the purposes of DEITIES I draw her as a brown cat with light gradation markings. I knew of the Egyptian Mau but also realized the spots would take a lot of effort to redraw in the panels where she appears as a cat (much like the spots on falcons for Horus). I also personally really like solid-colored coats on cats, and in particular I liked the coloration of the Havana Brown, so it may be a little less authentic but it did factor into her colors as well.

[14] I'm still debating on Sekhmet's main hairstyle and want to play with it a bit more -- not the arrangement per se but whether to keep it as locks or to make them more obvious twists -- or perhaps a combination -- since I can see her with both style at certain points in time. Either way, at full length Sekhmet's hair is very long: if she were to loosen her tie and let it fall, her longest locks would reach past her hips.

[15] I initially gave Set yellow eyes because even though he's often depicted with red eyes, I didn't want to over saturate his design with just... well, red -- especially in his animal form where his entire body is covered in red fur (red eyes + red sclera would have been, a lot). I like how his yellow eyes provide some contrast, and I've since found some story-related reasons where his eyes might play some role in the plot… but anything further might be spoilery 8')c

[16] It took me a while to settle on Osiris's "resurrected" skin tone because there were a lot of sources that describe his skin as being green, or blue, or black in coloration. I even tried them out in an earlier color test that I shared on patreon, but I eventually went with black since the color has had various meanings in Ancient Egypt that include both life and death. (It also gave me some opportunity to give green skin to Ptah and blue skin to Hapi to help vary the designs for each of those gods).

[17] Relatedly, Osiris's mortal form is a naturally dark skin tone, but following this death he can no longer appear in that form. He is also unable to travel to the overworld / realm of the living, though I'm still debating on how restrictive this is (if it's limited to his physical body or if he can split his soul under special circumstances, or with assistance). Regardless, most of his correspondence with other deities have to be arranged within Duat for this reason.

[18] I haven't made any plans to designate a spouse or romantic partner for Ra. I understand that there were a number of goddesses that were associated with him in the myths and often said to be his wife, but for that reason it was hard to settle on choosing one -- or multiple, and I realized that for the purpose of the main story it might not be necessary. I also kinda like exploring the idea of this high king and powerful creator deity who's also a happily single father, and where it's not for tragic reasons like the separation from or death of his spouse (not to knock that trope at all tho sdjfdsf). I'm not opposed to him being shipped with anyone though, I just don't think I've been inclined to do it myself lmAO;;

[19] RELATEDLY, while Ra's daughters (Sekhmet, Mafdet, Hathor, Serqet, Bastet) don't have a biological mother, I like to think that they were raised in an environment with a lot of parental figures and mentors to go around, aside from just their father. I haven't quite settled on how it was organized though, but I know that the daughters regard Thoth as something of an uncle/secondary dad (tho their dynamic with Thoth is can vary a lot from the one the have with Ra), as well as their teacher and mentor. I can also see where other gods like Khnum, Khepri, and Bes, and goddesses like Neith, Seshat, Taweret, Ma'at, and Mut, might also have played some direct mentor role in the daughters' upbringing and sense of self.

[20] (squick + implied nsfw) I uh… have this minor gag headcanon where Horus, Isis, and Osiris just don't eat fish. They just… don't. And it's entirely based on that one part of the myths after Osiris's death, where a certain part of Osiris's desecrated body ended up in the river and was swallowed by a fish 8')c (should be noted that I'm not saying that event did happened in DEITIES canon, but I'm also not disputing it either >>).

Apparently that was considered a bad omen, and I still find conflicting information on whether consumption of fish was taboo for some or all in Ancient Egypt (I think "for some" makes better sense, cuz why would an entire society that resides near the Nile river pass up on a perfectly available food source?? But I digress, I might need to review this again so take my thoughts with a grain of salt--). I also admit that I've seen it mentioned that fish are not ideal food offerings for Isis and Osiris?? and I can imagine that maybe Horus adopts the distaste for them as well. Either way, I go with the DEITIES canon that while most people and deities happily consume fish, Horus and his parents will not, and they don't enjoy it as offerings either.

I’MMMMMM gonna end it here for now cuz my headcanons have run dry for the time being, thank you guys!!

[hellaoldfander86]

The Grey Mage’s Quest  Ch. 3

Word Count: 2344

Tags: A bit of Angst.

Chapter 3: Talking After...

Logan speaks when the mage closes the large wooden door. “I can’t help but be concerned.”

“About what, Lo?” Patton asks, standing up and moving to the logical side and putting a large hand on Logan's shoulder.

“What if we cannot get the reversal agent. We would be stuck like this. What would we tell Thomas? I am so far away from my comfort zone at the moment I am unsure what to think.” Logan sadly states as his glowing eyes look over to Patton’s face to find a sympathetic smile there, along with the teary eyes he expected from the more emotional trait.

“Karybdis seems confident that he will be able to procure the agent with our help from wherever it is located,” Roman says with a sigh as he paces on the work table, finally stopping and looking up at the two giant (to him and Virgil) sides.

Virgil gets up from his seat at the edge of the table and walks over to stand next to Roman. “Don't worry, teach, we are all thinking the same thing. Heck, I was already thinking it when Karybdis told us what he was going to do to us before anyone even drank the potions. Kinda comes with my job.”

Logan pats Patton’s large hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for the support, Patton. I appreciate it.” Patton nods with a small sniffle and takes his hand off Logan’s shoulder, and crosses both sets of arms across his torso once again.

“There is so much that I do not know about this form the magic changed me into. What is my energy source? Am I able to recharge by solar energy or by pulling the magic from the surrounding environment? Do I have a self-contained power source? The last thing I want to do is be stuck as an immobile statue, without the energy to move.” Logan says with a slight note of concern.

“We wouldn't leave you behind, Specs.” Roman softly says. “We don't know how much you weigh at the moment, but I am pretty confident Patton could carry you with one arm. He does have an impressive magically enhanced gun show going on if you haven't noticed.”

When Logan glances over to him, Patton flexes all his arms, wiggles his eyebrows and softly murmurs “Poppa Pat’s Gun Show, oh yeah! Pew! Pew!” and accenting the last bit with simultaneous thumbs up and finger guns..

Virgil can’t help but laugh, and adds, “You will figure it out, Logan. Remember, you are the smart one of our interesting little family.”

“I am not qualified to know about the anomalous quirks of the imagination, Roman is the authority here. I don’t have the first clue on how the “magic” chose these forms for us or why our “auras” had to be involved. I am not versed in magical conjecture, only cold, hard logic.” Logan states, staring at his hands and flexing his fingers, then turning his glowing eyes to Roman, who is now pacing the tabletop.

“I have studied magic in the castle library to better understand it. Whenever Thomas researches things that can’t be logically used by you, Logan, It appears in the castle’s archives. Knowing the basic magical practices helps in my quests, and has saved me from dire injury more than once. Anyway, to get back on track, he used special components and commands in the potions to force the chaos magic to stay within and to use our auras, which means our auras are some kind of container that just happens to reflect and contain our attributes, our strengths, our insecurities, even our mood. The books say the aura is attached to our internal spirit and radiates from our bodies. Anyone with training in reading auras would be able to see them. He obviously has vast knowledge and experience in aura work. The chaos magic only needs simple commands, “Mutatio corporis, mens immutata”, “body change, mind unchanged” for the main instructions. He then personalized each of them to us with uncanny precision. This anomaly is a curious one, I will have to find a way to keep an eye on him in the future.” Roman thoughtfully muses.

“Yeah, I get what you are saying, Princey. But only 3 of our forms make sense. You and I are as close to opposites as we can be. Teach is always trying to be the epitome of logic, suppressing his emotions to a near robotic state. I am at a loss with Patton’s.” Virgil says, motioning to the paternal side standing next to Logan.

Roman stares at Patton intensely, with a thoughtful look on his face. “With me, my potion latched onto my insecurity and molded me into this. With you, it may have been the same, but your nature made you the dark to my light. Pocket Protectors potion used his actual aspirations and  turned him silver, but I think Padre’s potion pulled his inner strength forward, or even his “Dad voice”, and gave it a physical form, adding his paternal protectiveness of us to it.”

“Huh.” Virgil muses, looking at Patton with a new understanding. As the fatherly side inspects his changes again with wide eyes.

“Wow.” The paternal side says. “I’m Super Dad!” while flexing his arms in a superhero pose, grinning and chuckling brightly.

Virgil chuckles. “But why did our eyes change?”

Roman sighs. “It’s the indicator that we are products of chaos magic. Our eyes change to the color of our auras to signify what changed us. Not just a regular potion or spell. Those would have left them unchanged.”

”Fan-tastic.” Virgil sighs.

“Hey! Look, guys!” Patton excitedly says while holding up their picnic basket and blanket.

“How considerate.” Roman deadpans. “Covering up his kidnapping by removing the evidence.”

“I know there were some leftovers,” Patton mumbles as he rummages through the basket.

“You're hungry now?” Virgil asks as he stares at the paternal trait.

“Uh, yeah...I just went through a major magical transformation! 2 new arms, lots of muscles, and I know I am way taller than 5 foot 8 now and we don’t even know what time it is, it could be dinnertime ... Aha!.” Patton states as he finds the aforementioned leftovers. “Want some?”

Roman snorts. “Excuse me? You are not the only one who had to go through the transformation thing, mister! Virgil and I lost 5 feet of height, had to grow wings and become magical creatures! Not to mention Logan’s ordeal….Are there any chips left? I do feel a bit peckish.”

Virgil opted for some chips also, and Logan politely declined to partake as the leftovers from the picnic that seemed so long ago are consumed quickly in silence.

Afterward, Virgil yawns. “I think we should try to get some rest before morning. I have no idea what time it is since you made us leave our phones in the mind palace, but a little rest is better than nothing. Plus, I still feel like I’ve been dragged beneath a bus.”

Roman nods. “I concur. I feel the same. We all need some time to recover. ” He begins to walk toward the fairy hutch. “Come on Virge.”

“See ya in the morning, kiddos,” Patton says, grabbing the picnic blanket and folding it to make a pillow for the floor since he was too tall for the small cot in his former cell. Besides, he had extra arms to consider, also.

As the fairy sides disappear into the hutch, Logan moves to the bench vacated by Patton and sits down.

Patton sorts himself out on the floor and lays down, shifting a bit to get the arms in a comfy position, that hopefully won’t make them fall asleep. He hates the pins and needles of a “waking up” arm with a passion. He opts for top 2 behind his head, bottom 2 resting on his stomach. Seems comfy enough.

“I can hold your glasses for you, Pat,” Logan says while reaching out a brushed silver hand.

“Oh! I nearly forgot! Thanks, Lo.” Patton says as he takes off his glasses and sets them in the offered hand.

“Can I ask you a question?” Patton quietly says.

“Of course,” Logan replies as he sets the paternal sides glasses next to him on the bench.

“Do you still feel?” Patton asks, looking up at the logical side intensely with his bright blue eyes.

Logan thinks for a moment. “Yes, I still feel, to an extent. I still have my emotions, at least the very few I allow myself to experience, the physical “feeling” of outside stimuli is very muted, it seems.”

“Okay. Thanks for answering my question, Lo.” Patton says with a yawn. “Goodnight”

“Goodnight, Pat. I will always answer your questions.” Logan says.

Logan sits quietly and studies his hands in his lap, flexing the fingers, turning them over and marveling at what he has become. He has experienced a magical transformation, but he does not know the limits or the capabilities of this form yet. How strong was he? What was his power source? So many more questions whirled around in his head that he hoped to answer, to understand this form better. Had he been able to, he would have taken a deep breath. But he no longer breathes, so maybe some meditation exercises to gather his thoughts and put them in order would help? Logan closes his eyes and suddenly realizes that he couldn’t listen to his own breathing, so he listens to Patton’s instead.

Inside the fairy hutch, the 2 sides-turned-fairies found quite the comfy setup once the magical lights flickered on inside. It looked just like a regular room with 2 full-size beds, chairs with backs designed with wings in mind next to 2 desks, and to Romans relief, a full-length mirror. “Oh, sweet mother of hair extensions! This long hair is going to drive me crazy!” Roman moans as he steps in front of the mirror to see himself for the first time. “Whoa! Red eyes!” Roman mutters at first glance of himself.

“Uh, yeah Prince Obvious, yours changed like everyone else's, we just talked about that,” Virgil says as he sits at one of the desks.    

“I couldn’t see myself, so I didn’t know what mine looked like,” Roman muttered. As he took in the rest of the changes, hair, build and wings.”Dragonfly wings. Dignified, I think. Butterfly wings would have been too much.” Roman mumbles as he preens in front of the mirror, flexing and folding his wings flat and turning to try to see his back.

“Jeez, do you need to be alone or something?” Virgil mumbles.

“I need to know what I have to work with. Emo Nightmare.”  Roman turns away from the mirror and stalks to a bed and sits down.

“Do you think Teach would have turned out different if Karybdis hadn’t put in the “keeping the mind intact” thing in?” Virgil asks, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand.

Roman stared in realization at Virgil. “I hadn’t thought of that! Now I am glad I influenced him to put the command in! Specs as a possibly mindless robot is not something I could contemplate right now.” Roman involuntarily shudders.

Virgil began to look through the drawers at the desk he was seated at and came across a large book with what looked like a writing instrument attached to the outside cover. “Check this out!” Virgil opens the book as Roman walks over to see, and finds lists of what looks like names and small notes written inside.

“Looks like a guest ledger,” Roman says. “Karybdis wasn’t kidding when he said he had fairies stay over.”

“Do you think the next fairies to stay here would believe THE Prince Roman stayed here if you signed it?” Virgil says with a chuckle.

“Do you think they would believe that THE Lord Virgil stayed here also?” Roman adds with a small grin.

“What?!” Virgil squeaks.

“All of you are nobles in my realm,  Stormcloud Emo. Patton, Logan, you. I can show you the official court documents when this is all over.“ Roman adds with raised eyebrows. “Patton and Logan already know this, I guess it never came up. Sorry about that.”

“Uh...I haven't really been into the imagination too many times, and I haven’t been to your castle, so it is understandable.” Virgil softly mumbles.

“Besides, lately the people of the realm think of you as a kind of dark protector for some reason, even though they have never seen you in person. Lord Virgil protects the realm from the darkness by Prince Romans side!” Roman grins and holds up his right hand. “I have no hand in spreading those rumors, I swear!”

“Huh. That’s not too bad, actually.” Virgil chuckles. “I’m gonna sign it, then.”

“I will also. Let’s see if this works.” Roman mumbles as he flicks his wrist and a shiny gold pen appears in it. “I can still conjure! Excellent!” Roman grins then proceeds to sign the next line in the ledger in red ink in his swirly, ornate way.

He hands the pen to Virgil, and before he lets it go, the pen changes to a purplish black, and Virgil nods in appreciation. He then signs under Romans name in purple ink in his meticulous print and hands the pen back to Roman, who dismisses it with a flick of the wrist.

“I think it’s time to crash, I’m about to fall asleep, and we have no idea what time it is, since you made us leave our phones in the mind palace.” Virgil states with a sigh and a stretch, which flutters his wings, which startled him. “I forgot I had those for a minute.” He chuckles, kicking off his shoes, and moving to a bed to flop down on his stomach.

“Agreed.” Roman nods & shucks off his boots and takes the other bed. The lights automatically dim as the two exhausted sides soon begin to softly snore.

Chapter 4

[dracannia]

so yall remember my PvP friend right? I have another story in which she avenges me

As a joke we created ourselves in the game. Legitimately, we made ourselves in the game. I made myself a human despite the fact I find humans boring, she’s a priest because for some reason a priest is usually my first pick when joining an MMO, and the RP profile honestly has my name on it. (If you find me on Wrymrest Accord, hollaback.)

Now, I think the Loremaster achievement is something everyone should work on at some point, whether you’re new or old to the game, so you can actually enjoy it (which is why Draenor and Legion flight is locked behind their respective Loremaster segments but boy howdy you’ll never catch me doing WoD again). I originally wanted my draenei to get Outland Loremaster for obvious reasons, but.... he out-leveled it. Even though I really wanted to try tanking in the Cataclysm dungeons (80-85), he was too high level for those “weaken the mob and then use this item” types of quests (70). I even stripped him naked and he was too strong. My boy Jaelkanaaz is ripped, son.

Instead, I decided that my human priest was going to do Loremaster now. She has four or five moves that do any sort of damage and I will also level lock her when she reaches the max level of the expansion she’s working on. Perfect for the aforementioned types of quests. So she’s going to be in Outland for quite some time. Vanilla/BC purists, listen now, I’m sure The Burning Crusade expansion was good at its time, but the realm of Outland is so fricking boring and monotonous that I cry knowing that the extension of myself has to go through it again for an achievement.

Non-WoWers, at level 58-60, you start in Hellfire Peninsula, the lowest level zone of Outland. Look up images. Everything is spread so far out and there’s no foliage; it’s just red sand, fucked up beasts, the remnants of buildings, and a path of draenei bones leading up from a broken fortress to the portal you jumped through. People usually just dungeon their way from 60 to 70, although there are some people who actually do the quests because they enjoy zone leveling. Or they’re like me and they’re getting achievements.

As I’m flying to my next god-awfully boring location, I accidentally fly over a Horde encampment. An NPC shoots me and this flags me for PvP. I just think, y’know, no one’s really around here anyway and this flag will disappear in five minutes, I’ll be okay.

Not what happened.

There was a blood elf paladin. I still remember his name. I remember he was in the low 60s like me. He was in that camp doing quests. He had seen me fly over and get flagged. He knew I was an easy target. He flew after me and waited for me to land and proceeded to stun and whup my ass like a true pro. In panic I hit him back but I tried to type things like /wait and /no and kept spelling it wrong in my adrenaline rush from getting caught off-guard and those never made it into the chat. Not that it would’ve mattered anyway, I’m sure he just wanted an easy kill. I tried to run, knew that would never work, then tried to stand my ground. The dude’s got his shields on. Again, I’ve got five moves that might do something if I was actually into PvP, otherwise I’m healing myself throughout the fight. Knowing it’s futile, I quickly accept death and end up at the graveyard about a good half-minute’s run away and go back to my body hoping he’s not camping me.

During this auto-run back to what I assumed is my freshly tea-bagged body, I hop into the group chat and say “Deco, avenge me, this belf kicked my ass lol” not thinking she’d actually hop on and try to find him. I know now that no one is allowed to annihilate me, even if it had been a fair fight. She gets on her most powerful character, her huntress, and I show her where I got my ass beat. I hear her tell her husband, “Hey honey, someone killed Drac, you wanna go kill them?”

I tell her that I had flown over the Horde camp nearby and I go over to check... The paladin is still there, doing his quests. I honestly did not think he’d still be there, I was sure that he’d run off somewhere else to claim himself undefeated. I saw him turn, and he most likely sees the flapping wing of my dragon so obviously there behind a rock. Silly priest, too chicken to fight again amongst these higher level NPCs who will one-shot her. As soon as Deco spots him, his flag wears off and he flies away to do his quest. Deco stalks him there and uses Shadowmeld, her racial move that allows her to become untraceable and blend in.

She gives me instructions to act like I’m doing the same quest that he’s doing and to keep my flag on. I’m basically the bait. I’m turned about 90 degrees from this guy, killing mobs with my PvP on, and he runs up to me to immediately turn his flag on....

Fthwp!

Deco kills him in one shot. I do /cry and /sorry but he’s probably already astral walking back to his body from wherever the Horde’s grave is. I run around still killing mobs. Deco wants to camp him. He spawns in. Fthwp! Downs him again. The third time, he tries to mount up and take off. Fthwp! 

By this point it’s just funny but I also feel so bad that he was outmatched and we baited him like this. She tries to make me feel better by going off saying that you don’t attack a priest unless they attack first. I mean, sure, I fought back, and none of my pleas of mercy made it through chat, but she was still mad that someone just waltzed on up and killed her friend without honorable permission.

“He’s going to learn his lesson! He’ll have to get Respawn Sickness if he wants to escape me!” (Translation: He’ll have to choose to spawn at the graveyard instead of near his body, but he’ll spend the next ten minutes at half stats and half broken armor.)

Deco’s husband arrives. He’s a Demon Hunter who looks like he just farmed the Nargacuga from Monster Hunter several hundred times and finally got the full tier set. I’ve got the PvP Couple™ on their level 110 night elves protecting my tiny human priest who has to suffer through Outland for about the third time in her gaming life. 

The paladin had followed me to my quest location a few “miles” away when I thought that enough had been enough. Clearly he still wanted some more, or he just wanted to try and talk. (Logically it would be the latter since he came up on his mount about five feet from the three of us.) Now, I don’t know who hit him first. He targeted Deco, probably to do a /rude gesture to her, and I saw both a shot and a glaive fly at him and he died again. I do /sorry and /cry again and threw in a /mourn for good measure. I know it looks sarcastic to most people, but I had mixed feelings. I don’t like to PvP and this was just plain unfair that two 110s ganged up on him, but it was also unfair that he was using his full hotbar to take me out when I literally have five moves that do minimal damage which only exist to get me through quests. 

Deco notices which guild he’s from and insults them because she knows them as a bunch of jerks and scrubs who think they’re hot shit. I forget who they are but it’s not important to me. Sounds like a PvP guild. The paladin’s body then turns to bones. That’s the sign that he had chosen to spawn at the grave with the Sickness. I move on with my life and Deco and her hubby take me to Blackwing for a mog run.

Dear Paraliser from whichever realm, probably WrA; I’m sorry it turned out like that, but I’m not a PvPer and we found it plain rude that you’d go for an easy kill like that. Lok’tar is not worth it if it was dishonorable. But I still wish you luck and fun on your adventures because, hell, it’s only a video game! With apologies and prayer, Dracannia.

P.S. Maybe I’ll catch you on my main and you can kick my ass fair and square.

[rainbowravioli]

what type of bender (fire, air, water, eart or non) would each YOI character be in your opinion :)?

Oh yay! These questions arefun! 

As with the Hogwarts housesquestion, this is my personal opinion, don’t hate me, etc. And like withHogwarts, I’m going to go a bit deeper into my choices for the main trio thanthe other characters. Also everyone gets a bending style. I’m taking intoconsideration personality, skating style, and circumstances of the YOI canonfor this. I ended up kinda delving into AU territory here, sorry.

Yuuri

The obvious choice for Yuuri iswaterbender. Graceful and fluid style, working in harmony with the environmentaround them, turns defense into offense - all very Yuuri things and he wouldmake a really great waterbender. However, I would like you to consider thepossibilities of firebender Yuuri(with an entire waterbending family for extra angst).

Consider that firebending isthe most destructive and aggressive form of bending and requires a lot of self-control, emotional balance and proper breathing. Yuuri has anxiety andpanic attacks. Firebender Yuuri, who believes the universe is firmly againsthim and tries to use his bending as little as possible since it’s such adestructive element and he’s afraid of losing control of it and hurting someone.Firebending, which is unique in that it’s the only form of bending where thebender generates their own element instead of taking it from the environment.It doesn’t require so much aggression as strong willpower and drive. An “innerfire” so to speak, which Yuuri certainly has. So the idea of a firebender Yuuri who is full of untappedpotential, who has what it takes to make fire something comforting and creative,something that derives from life and not destruction like he fears, afirebending more akin to that of the Sun Warriors civilization, with more fluidand natural movements (partly influenced from growing up in a waterbendingfamily and copying their movements). He just needs guidance and to find thatspark of confidence and passion.

As an extra detail, since I’mthinking of skating styles as well, Yuuri’s skating is known for its stepsequences and fire bending combat style has a lot of emphasis on highlytechnical foot work.

Also Yuuri raising a babydragon. Just imagine. So yeah, I’m really fond of theidea of firebender Yuuri.

Victor

Now Victor is a waterbender, no doubt about it. Anabsurdly talented one too, I’d bet. Water is the element of change, it’s fluid andgraceful, working in concert with your environment, the most adaptable andversatile form of bending – just like Victor’s skating.

Victor himself is all about constantlyadapting to new situations as he has done so his entire life and throughout hiscareer. He is also open-minded, resourceful, creative and willing to takecalculated risks, which makes him perfect to make the most out of waterbending.The way Victor in the series is also never in direct competition with anyone(he competes with himself really) is also well reflected in the waywaterbenders channel defense into offense and how they turn their opponent’sown forces against them.

So extremely talentedwaterbender Victor, who uses water almost like an extension of his own body,who specializes in ice, and whose seemingly only weakness is his difficulty ingrasping healing.  

Waterbending prodigy Victor whodecides to take firebender Yuuri under his wing, because he’s not going to leta little detail like the fact that they bend opposite elements stop him fromhelping this boy and bring out his full potential.

Yurio

With Yurio, there’s the canonVictor connection and the whole graceful prima ballerina skating which wouldincline me to make him a waterbender as well (albeit a very aggressive one),but I really think he’s another firebender.Really, it’s not hard making the connection between Yurio and the element ofoffensive power, known for its aggressive attacking style and fueled byemotions, drive and desire. Firebending has a lot of whirling kicks and swiftpunches that I think reflect well Yurio’s skating.

I figure in this scenario Yuriowould be a very talented bender, specializing in close combat techniques. Icould even see him bending blue fire. Considering how self-control and restraint are important for firebending, I can see this being somethingYurio would have to learn and work on, as his bending would probably be fueledby mostly negative and rash emotions at first and be really explosive anddestructive. 

A firebending Yurio and afirebending Yuuri would work well to mirror their canon relationship. More thanjust the same name, they bend the same element just in very different ways which would annoy Yurio (he would probably challenge Yuuri to an agni kai).Yurio would secretly admire the way Yuuri could work fire so fluidly, almostlike a liquid. They both suffer from poor self-control which hinders theirbending, but for very different reasons, and they could help each other andlearn from each other.

Phichit - Airbender. Flexible, capable of going with the flow and finding the path of least resistance. Airbending is the most dynamic bending art and also almost purely defensive, which fits Phichit well. 

Leo - Airbender. Carefree, free spirited and creative personality, really easy going, would work well with air.

Guang Hong - Airbender, to complete the trio. 

Minami - Little firecracker firebender. Would really admire Yuuri’s more unique take on firebending but can’t quite replicate it.

Georgi - My first thought was waterbender, but water is the element of change and Georgi really doesn’t deal with that well. Based on his highly emotional and passionate skating and how lack of self-control damaged his performance, I would make him a firebender.

Chris - Waterbender. Adaptable, open-minded, patient and resourceful. Unlike Victor he wouldn’t use ice much, more focused on manipulating water in its liquid form. I can see him being a good healer. 

Mila - We’ve never seen her skating, so just going by personality I would say possibly waterbender.

Seung-gil - Earthbender. He is stubborn and unmoving like the earth. Very focused, opportunistic and solid skating, like earthbending needs to be. 

Michelle - Firebender. An offensive style focused on overwhelming the opponent, relying on a motivating force and a strong will. Despite his fiery temper at times and him being very passionate, I can actually see Michelle being a very controlled firebender who knows how to use his emotions to make the most of his element.  

Sara - We’ve never seen her skating, so going by personality, possibly earthbender. She endures, stands her ground and doesn’t run away from her problems, she instead blocks and counterattacks at the right moment. 

Emil - Airbender. He’s really relaxed, tolerant and non-confrontational, so he would fit the evasive and free nature of airbending.

JJ - Firebender. Passionate, impulsive, ambitious and driven by his desires. Has that “inner fire” quality. While firebending is a relatively simple and direct style, I can see JJ making grand complex spectacles of his bending.

Otabek - Earthbender. His skating feels very stable, solid and powerful, like earthbending. It’s also a type of bending that relies a lot on enduring, patience and waiting for the right moment to strike so it fits him well. I could see him eventually develop metalbending. 

[juniorformulamotorsport]

Saturday, 12th October 2019 – Leicester

I realise Leicester may not be your obvious first choice when considering where to go in the UK, but bear with me. Actually if you try to get any tourist information in advance, you could be forgiven for thinking Leicester’s tourist information office don’t think it is either, between listings for museums that “closed for renovation in 2015” and listings for museums that don’t mention any opening times whatsoever, their website seems designed to put you off visiting rather than encouraging you to do so. We were going because we had plans to meet up with a friend we haven’t seen for a couple of decades who happens to live in one of the outlying villages, but it was also a good excuse to finally get to the Richard III centre that opened in the wake of the discovery of the king’s remains under a council car park close to the cathedral in 2015.

We booked a night’s stay at the Holiday Inn and set off on the very short drive (less than an hour) to get there. We fought our way through the one way system and parked in the hotel car park before heading off to meet Angie for lunch. She was slightly late but only slightly and so we dropped into the World Peace Café for a bite to eat. I would very much recommend them if you find yourself in the old part of Leicester – and order their falafel in some form or another, because they are excellent, moist, tasty with a sweet chilli punch to them. Their cakes are pretty damn good too. It’s also just behind the cathedral and therefore most convenient for getting to the things you may want to see.

After lunch, Angie had to return home, and so we headed to the Cathedral first, armed with a £2 “Ricardian” walking tour booklet from the Tourist Information Office and a plan to see as much as we could manage in the time we had available. There was a “suggested donation” of £2 which we handed over, not feeling we had a lot of choice down to the way they’d placed the donation box and 2 members of the cathedral’s staff who were between us and the door. It turned out that this was because there was a special event going on in the main body of the church. They also handed us a voucher for £5 off entry to the Richard III Visitor Centre, but we’d already bought our tickets… The event we’d just paid for was an installation of Luke Jerram’s work, “Museum of the Moon” to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the first moon landing.

Once you could get past the crowd around the moon, it was possible to look into the corners of the building and to get to the tom of Richard III, which was of course what had brought us to town. The church was begun around 900 years ago, and rebuilt and expanded between the 13th and 15th Centuries when it became strongly associated with the merchants and guilds (the Guildhall is just feet away). 100 years ago it was restored and in part rebuilt by the architect, Raphael Brandon, who was responsible for the addition of the 220 foot tall spire, which proved very useful to us as a navigation tool! When the Diocese of Leicester was re-established in 1927, having ceased to exist in 870, the church of Saint Martin became Leicester Cathedral.

Of course the key part of the visit for us was seeing Richard III’s tomb. On 24th August 2012 the dig, by the University of Leicester Archaeological Services (ULAS) working in partnership with Philippa Langley of the Richard III Society, was launched and the following day a leg bone was discovered in the first trench they opened! A handful of days later, on 5th September, the complete skeleton was uncovered and removed. The circumstantial evidence was all pointing towards it being the remains of Richard III. By early February of 2013 the belief was now fact and the University announced that, following extensive scientific tests, it could confirm that the remains were indeed Richard’s. In considering the method of re-interment, the cathedral took into account the views of the scientific community, the heritage groups, the Richard III Society and the Church of England. In March 2015, after some legal wrangling, with some of us really not keen on Leicester being his final resting place, the cathedral got its way and the re-interment took place on 26th March.

Richard’s remains were placed in a lead ossuary, and then inside a coffin made from English oak, which was then placed in a brick lined vault below the floor of the Cathedral, the whole sealed with the incredibly stark tombstone. The tomb itself sits within an ambulatory between the new Chapel of Christ the King and the sanctuary under the tower, which is a deliberate echo of his original burial place in the chancel of the Grey Friars. The tomb is intended to reflect key Christian themes as well as the story of Richard’s life, with a deep cut in the stone that enables light to flood through it, symbolising that death is not the end. Appropriately the stone used is a Swaledale fossil stone, quarried in North Yorkshire.

We also spent some time on the display off to one side, which explored the theme of reconciliation, and included an exhibition by the Bogside Artists from Northern Ireland, showing photos of the murals there that tell the story of sectarian violence and what comes after. It seemed like a timely reminder of the importance of the Good Friday Agreement, especially to anyone who grew up during the period when the IRA started bombing the mainland.

Outside in the gardens we stopped to admire the bronze statue of King Richard III, commissioned by the Richard III Society in 1980. The statue, by James Walter Butler, was unveiled on 31st July 1980 by Princess Alice, Duchess of Gloucester.

A sculpture entitled “Towards Stillness” by Dallas Pierce Quintero can also be found in the gardens. It is an installation representing a timeline of the King’s life, especially commissioned for the occasion of his re-interment, is oriented towards Bosworth Field and evokes the terrain of the battlefield. The gardens are pleasant and on a warmer day we might have sat for a while in the sun.

Instead we sidestepped into the Guildhall for a relatively swift look round. There had been some sort of event that appeared to be about taxidermy going on, so there were tables and chairs in odd places, somewhat marring the look of the place as they were very modern. However, we coped. The hall is the oldest building still in active use in the city and was built around 1390 as a meeting place for the Guild of Corpus Christi. By 1563, the building had become Leicester’s Town Hall and the ground floor of the West Wing was known as the Mayor’s Parlour.

After narrowly escaping demolition in 1876, the building was completely restored and opened to the public in 1926. There are those who claim Shakespeare performed there during Tudor times, but that may just be a myth – like the claims that the building is haunted. Whatever the uses it has been put to over the years, it has certainly been a police station, a jail, and a library before becoming a museum in 1926. Without a doubt it is one the best-preserved timber framed halls in the country, and it retains some very fine decorative features.

Next stop was the King Richard III Visitor Centre which sits next to the place where Richard III’s remains were found. The Centre tells the story of the King’s life and death, and takes you through the “one of the greatest archaeological detective stories ever told”. It didn’t tell the two of us anything that we didn’t already know, but that’s not the fault of the centre, that’s because it’s a subject we both know a lot about.

What we did appreciate was the opportunity to see the actual spot where the remains were found. And it was really nice when the woman up ahead of us who seemed to have been inoculated with a gramophone needle and was unable to shut up finally left the room and let us have some peace.

We stopped off in the café for tea and ice cream and then headed outside to see if we could locate the other sites in the brochure. The remains of Greyfriars was easy enough, although there’s not exactly much left. The 12th Century establishment was home to the Franciscan order, and following King Richard’s death at the Battle of Bosworth, his body was taken by the Franciscan friars to be given a simple burial in the choir of their church. Sadly all that remains of the Friary is a small piece of grey stone wall in a car park.

We walked towards the area called Newarke and the Magazine Gateway which dates from around 1410, and was the entrance to the religious foundation known as the Newarke. It’s known as the Magazine Gateway because it was used as a gunpowder and weapons store in the English Civil War. It is believed that Richard’s corpse was brought back through this gateway after Bosworth. The gateway is only open to the public on the last Sunday of each month from 11.00am – 3.00pm between February and November, which is limiting to say the least. It’s also blocked off behind loads of scaffolding on one side.

We didn’t find the Church of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, largely because it’s another one of the historic buildings that doesn’t actually exist any more. It’s underneath the Hawthorn Building of De Montfort University. The church and its college were founded in 1353 by Henry, 4th Earl of Leicester, 1st Duke of Lancaster. There is a tradition that King Richard’s body was put on public display there for three days after the battle to prove that the king was dead. The church was demolished in 1548 and just two arches survive in the basement of the building. Trinity Hospital does still exist though not in its original form, because the Hospital of the Honour of God and the Glorious Virgin and All Saints, founded in 1330 by Henry, 3rd Earl of Lancaster and Leicester, was rebuilt in 1776, The medieval stone chapel does still exist and is part of De Montfort University’s Trinity Building.

The map and the reality on the ground diverged somewhat at this stage, so we needed a couple of goes to locate the Turret Gateway. This gateway is believed to have been built in 1423 as one of two entrances to the enclosed Newarke area. It separated the Newarke religious precinct from Leicester Castle.

Luckily there are some excellent information boards at the various sites.

Through the gateway we found ourselves in the precincts of Leicester Castle. Richard certainly knew the castle, sending a letter from there on 18th August, 1483, that he signed: “from my castle of Leicester”. What you see today is a late 17th century brick entrance concealing a 12th Century structure. Edward I, Edward II and Henry IV all stayed there. It’s another monument that has very limited opening hours, these being the last Sunday of the month from 11:00 to 15:00 between February and November, so four hours each day on 10 Sundays a year! You can see more from the back where a park has been set out next to the River Soar.

It was damp and getting late now so we walked back to the hotel (it wasn’t easy – the Holiday Inn is pretty much parked on a massive traffic island with not enough crossings to it) and got cleaned up ready to go out for dinner. We’d missed the Blue Boar Inn where Richard spent his final night in Leicester before riding out to Bosworth. It’s now the Leicester Central Travelodge. We also missed Bow Bridge which was designed by the city as a memorial to King Richard III. We didn’t mind too much, given the damp!

Travel 2019 – Leicestershire Weekend, Day 1, Leicester Saturday, 12th October 2019 - Leicester I realise Leicester may not be your obvious first choice when considering where to go in the UK, but bear with me.

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MoMA Reboots With ‘Modernism Plus’

When the Museum of Modern Art reopens on Oct. 21 after a $450-million, 47,000-square-foot expansion, it will finally, if still cautiously, reveal itself to be a living, breathing 21st-century institution, rather than the monument to an obsolete history — white, male, and nationalist — that it has become over the years since its founding in 1929.

After decades of stonewalling multiculturalism, MoMA is now acknowledging it, even investing in it, most notably in a permanent collection rehang that features art — much of it recently acquired — from Africa, Asia, South America, and African America, and a significant amount of work by women. In short, what’s primarily different about the reopened MoMA is the integrated presence of “difference” itself — a presence that takes the museum back to its experimental early days, when American self-taught art and non-Western art were on the bill.

Did we need a supersized (one-third larger), nearly blocklong multiplex MoMA — with a Diller, Scofidio + Renfro /Gensler extension tacked onto the 2004 building designed by Yoshio Taniguchi — to accommodate this presence? No. As we learn from every art fair every year, more art is not more. What’s needed is agile planning and alert seeing, and these are evident in the museum’s modestly scaled opening attractions, which include focused surveys of two African-American artists (Betye Saar and William Pope.L), installations by artists from India (Sheela Gowda and Dayanita Singh), a sampler of Latin American work, and a permanent collection gallery devoted to contemporary art from China.

But in every museum with an active acquisition program, the permanent collection galleries are key. They’re the heart, brain and soul of the place; its history and memory. Special, short-term shows bring people through the door. But they end, move on. If you want to know what a museum is really about, what it’s feeling and thinking, keep your eye on the art it owns and gives its walls and floors to, long-term.

Judged by this metric alone, the expanded MoMA is making obvious efforts to reshape its image without going entirely off-brand — to tell the tale of what might be called Modernism Plus, with globalism and African-American art added.

The museum has long been famous for inventing an ironclad view of Modern art as a succession of marquee “isms” (Cubism, Surrealism, Abstract Expressionism, etc.), and arranging its holdings to illustrate that. The very rough outline is still in place on the three floors of collection galleries: art from the 19th century through 1940 on five, from 1940 to 1970 on four, and from 1970 to the present on two. But the main route is now peppered with unexpected inclusions and interrupted by theme-based detours and byways.

Also, walls between disciplines, once firm, are down. The permanent gallery rehang, coordinated by five chief curators from departments across the museum, has been, and will be, a collaborative project. The prevailing style is mix-and-match, with sculpture, painting, design, architecture, photography and film bunking in together (something that will freak out orthodox modernists). But, rest assured, each discipline gets some space of its own.

The jumble can be confusing, as, at first, are certain features of the general floor plan. Previously, visitor traffic entering the main lobby from West 53rd Street flowed to the right, toward the Sculpture Garden and up to the galleries. Now you have a directional choice. You can still go that way, or opt to go left toward the new Geffen wing, where you will find, among other things, street-level galleries to which admission is free (as it has been, since 2013, to the Sculpture Garden).

One of these holds a selection of design items chosen by Paola Antonelli, senior curator in the department of Architecture and Design. Another, the double-height Projects 110 Gallery, has a set of penumbral oil-on-barkcloth narrative paintings by the young Kenyan-born painter Michael Armitage, in a New York solo debut. Organized by Thelma Golden, director of the Studio Museum in Harlem, this show is the first in a series to be presented here by the Studio Museum while its new David Adjaye-designed home is under construction.

Upstairs navigation is easier, familiar. As before, the permanent collection galleries begin, chronologically, in the Taniguchi building and move from there straight west into the Geffen, with black metal door frames marking the points of transition. And on the fifth floor you’re eased into a plunge into modernism with a grouping of Brancusi sculptures set just outside the galleries themselves.

The Brancusi installation is classic MoMA: white walls, lots of air, few words. The idea is that this art doesn’t need commentary; it speaks for itself, and anything added, beyond light and space, is superfluous. You can argue with this approach — I do; I like lots of take-it-or-leave-it contextual information — but it has always been the MoMA way. Inside the galleries, the old-school hands-off mode continues, though with some tweaks. Each gallery has (at least) a short thematic title, so visitors can get a sense of what connects the works of art in the room — an idea, a medium, a place, a time — and a brief explanation of the theme.

The first gallery, now labeled “19th Century Innovators,” is pretty much a painting hit parade — Cezanne’s “Still Life with Apples” (1895-98), Rousseau’s “The Sleeping Gypsy” (1897) and, straight ahead, van Gogh’s “The Starry Night” (1889) — with a few painterly prints (Mary Cassatt, Pierre Bonnard) thrown in. But to this familiar two-dimensional European world MoMA has introduced an American wild card: half a dozen nugget-like ceramic bowls and jugs by George Ohr (1857-1918), the self-proclaimed “Mad Potter of Biloxi.”

Ohr was turning out hundreds of these gnarly, pinched earthenware vessels in the American South at the same time Van Gogh was painting “Starry Night” in an asylum in the south of France. And in the year Ohr died, in Mississippi, even locally all but unknown, Brancusi finished his first version of“Endless Column,” on view just beyond the gallery door. In the pre-expansion MoMA, these three artists were unlikely to have met. Here they’re caught up in formal and psychological conversation.

Farther on, after you’ve passed through a mesmerizing gallery of early photographic images — including Anna Atkins’s lacy 1850s botanical studies and a 1905 film of the New York City subway, looking every bit as funky then as now — you find another meeting of artistic minds, this one a genuine startler.

The gallery itself is a virtual Picasso shrine, with his 1907 “Les Demoiselles d’ Avignon” at the center, and related pictures ranged around it. But there’s a major out-of-time entry here too: a 1967 painting, acquired in 2016, by the African-American artist Faith Ringgold depicting an explosive interracial shootout. Titled “American People Series #20: Die,” it speaks to “Demoiselles” both in physical size and in visual violence. And just by being there it points up the problematic politics of a work like Picasso’s — with its fractured female bodies and colonialist appropriations — that is at the core of the collection. MoMA traditionalists will call the pairing sacrilegious; I call it a stroke of curatorial genius.

There are other such moments, less emphatic, on all three floors. One comes with the sight of Alma Woodsey Thomas’s incandescent 1973 “Fiery Sunset” plugged into an otherwise all-Matisse room. And there are several in a group installation evoking the matchless élan of the New York City painter Florine Stettheimer.

No curatorial credits are posted anywhere. But I hope that whoever chose to include a 1981 piece by the East Village artist Arch Connelly (1950-1993), will accept my personal thanks. The Connelly contribution, a mirror-shaped canvas encrusted with hundreds of fake pearls and titled “Self-Portrait,” suits the Stettheimian “extravagance-is-me ” ethos to a T.

On the long historical walkabout of some 60 collection galleries spread over three floors, there’s pretty much something for everyone. You get a big hit of Jackson Pollock, a Frida Kahlo fix, megadoses of Pop and Surrealism; Soup Cans, “Water Lilies,” and Cindy Shermans to burn — all the things that many people come to MoMA, selfie sticks in hand, to see.

But you also get specialty shows, the equivalent of mini-seminars, on books made by artists in Revolution-era Russia (most are by women), on architecture as sculpture, and on the epic potential of Latin American Mail Art. And there’s one exhibition, smallish in floor space but large in material, focused on the poet Frank O’Hara, who was a MoMA curator. To some visitors these will seem esoteric and pass-byable, but they’re a testament to the museum’s archival depths and its scholarly chops. And, once you put a toe in, they’re fun.

Finally, we get charismatic images by names that should be on every art-lover’s A-list but aren’t — yet: Geta Bratescu, Graciela Carnevale, Sari Dienes, Rosalyn Drexler, Valie Export, Beatriz González, Maren Hassinger, Atsuko Tanaka, along with Benny Andrews, Ibrahim El-Salahi, and May Stevens, all three part of the exceptionally strong installation of Vietnam War-era art, “War Within, War Without,” that brings the 4th floor rehang to a close.

Work by many of these artists has entered the collection in just the past few years. (When you’re traveling the galleries, pay attention to the acquisition dates on the labels; they can tell you a lot about the politics of purchase.) Much of it could find no place in MoMA’s canonically gated modernist story. The current version of Modernism Plus is by no means an in-depth rewrite, but it has the makings of one, depending on how it’s developed.

And, in one of the most promising features of the reopened museum, the mechanics for development are there. Post-expansion plans call for regular rotation and refreshment of the collection. Every six months, a third of the galleries on floors five, four and two will be reinstalled. By the end of 18 months, everything, the promise is, will, have been rethought. Destination favorites — “Starry Night,” “Desmoiselles” — will no doubt stay on view, but what’s around them will change, which will change them too.

Such flexibility offers tremendous potential for new thinking, particularly at a museum whose curatorial staff has, in the past few years, begun to diversify (though not its board of trustees). Flexibility also, it’s worth saying, allows the option of backpedaling should the opening “new” model prove to be little too new for a healthy box-office.

My guess is that in some hopefully ever-improving version, this 21st century MoMA will work, if only for self-preservative reasons. Multicultural is now marketable. To ignore it is to forfeit profit, not to mention critical credibility. And the new MoMA is obviously tailored to a new and younger audience, one that has no investment, nostalgic or otherwise, in the old pre-Taniguchi model, which now lives on mostly in the memories of a fading population (which itself had no direct experience of the original, progressive 1930s museum).

On the evidence of what I see in the reopened museum, a bunch of very smart curators are putting their heads together to work from inside to begin to turn a big white ship in another direction. We’re not talking Revolution. With this museum we probably never will. But in the reboot there are stimulating ideas and unexpected, history-altering talents around every corner. As long as both keep showing up at MoMA, so will I.

Museum of Modern Art

The museum reopens to the public Oct. 21 (member previews begin Oct. 12); moma.org.

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Spirit Yachts: behind the scenes of the P70 wooden motoryacht in build

Spirit Yachts may be best known for their stunning sailing boats, but in a remote corner of Ipswich docks, a beautiful motor cruiser is gradually coming to life

I should have known better than to rely on my phone's sat nav system. It has taken me three-and-a-half hours to drive from Southampton to Ipswich, braving the M25 at its rush-hour worst, and I'm not in the mood for a confrontation with Google Maps. There's no mention of Spirit Yachts at the entrance to the docks, a steel barrier is blocking my path and even after the nice lady in the marina office has pointed me in the right direction, I still can't find what I'm looking for. My phone's screen suggests it's less than 100 metres away but the road seems to end abruptly at the slipway outside Fairline's testing centre, where a crane is inching a Squadron 53 towards the water. It's only when the man operating it moves out of the way that I realise the track carries on round the side of the Fairline facility to reveal another building beyond it. The rolling shutters are open on both sides and through the safety netting I can just catch a glimpse of an arrow-sharp wooden bow picked out by the sun's rays. Even from here I can make out the sensuous curves of the hull, so smooth and pale it looks like a sculpted piece of driftwood bleached and burnished by years of gentle erosion from the sun, sand and sea.

This is Spirit Yachts' stock-in-trade, elegant sailing yachts with long overhangs, low freeboards and svelte lines that hark back to the glory days of the 1930s. All of them are handcrafted out of wood but built using the latest hi-tech methods to make them light, fast and surprisingly tough. What's less well known is that they also build powerboats. Not in huge numbers and often for existing owners of Spirit sailing yachts, but that is starting to change thanks to a very special project taking shape in one of its two main sheds.

Known only by its project name of P70, it has been commissioned by an experienced motoryacht owner who was born in Norway but lives in Britain. He currently owns a semi-displacement Fleming and wants his new yacht to exceed the seakeeping, engineering and build quality the Fleming offers, but with the soul of a wooden craft built to suit his precise needs.

Wooden heart

If this doesn't sound like a challenging enough brief, his key requirements are that it has to be capable of cruising comfortably at 18 knots non-stop for 1,000nm through the North Sea. That's because although it will be based on the Hamble most of the year, he wants to be able to cruise to the Baltic for the summer months without having to worry about refuelling en route. And in case you're wondering, he doesn't bother with crew either; it's usually just him and his wife or a few good mates to help with rope and fender duties.

It's the kind of brief that would have most production yards thanking the customer politely for their enquiry before suggesting that they might like to look elsewhere. Not Spirit Yachts. Head designer and CEO Sean McMillan enjoys a challenge and the beauty of building in wood is that the usual constraints of fixed moulds don't come into play. It's not the only advantage; when used properly wood is remarkably light and strong with excellent insulation properties against sound and cold, as well as being infinitely repairable and environmentally friendly. Nor does it suffer from the leaks, rot and constant need for maintenance that wooden boats of old used to. The trick is to use it and treat it in much the same way as the layers of gelcoat, glassfibre and foam cores that make up a conventional GRP sandwich construction.

The process starts with the creation of a set of ring frames made up from multiple layers of sapele, shaped and bonded to the exact dimensions specified by a computer program from Sean's original hand drawings. These are fixed into position on a laser-levelled jig and planked over longitudinally with 27mm-thick strips of interlocking Douglas fir screwed and bonded to the ring frames. Once the glue has set all the screws are removed and the holes filled to make sure there are no mechanical fixings to corrode. If this sounds worrying, bear in mind that Boeing bonds the wings of a 747 to the body of a plane for the same reason. With the main structure now secure, between two and four layers of 3mm-thick kaya wood veneers are laid diagonally over the planking in opposite directions, marked, cut and attached using plastic staples, which are then sanded off, before being bagged and vacuum infused with epoxy resin. Kaya looks similar to mahogany but has a more open grain, which allows it to soak up the epoxy in much the same way as woven roving glassfibre matting. Last but not least, a thin layer of transparent GRP scrim is added to create a perfectly smooth and watertight finish that can be painted or even varnished to show off the wood beneath. The end result is a totally inert structure with much the same strength as carbon-fibre but without that material's brittle, unforgiving nature that transmits sound and vibration almost as efficiently as a drum.

Spend a few minutes talking to Sean and you begin to wonder why more yards don't build in wood. His answer is as telling as it is believable: building in wood requires exceptional skill and experience to achieve the necessary strength and finish expected of a high-class yacht as well as a lot of man hours. In other words, it's neither easy nor cheap. But the best things in life rarely are.

Being a Spirit Yacht it also has to look the part. Its sailing yachts are inspired by the elegant proportions of J-Class yachts but the P70 has no obvious forebear to pick up on. It does share some of its design cues with the handful of P40s already built, such as the flared bow and tumblehome stern, but the size and volume needed to accommodate the owner's wish for three double cabins, a covered wheelhouse, saloon and dining/galley area meant some fresh thinking was needed. The exterior profile alone went through 22 different iterations before being signed off and even now some of the details like the angle of the bow and design of the air intakes are still being worked on – the latest idea draws inspiration from the intakes of a classic Mercedes 300SL. The end result has a recognisable 1930s motoryacht aesthetic but with its own distinctive style and layout. The length-to-beam ratio of 4.5:1 is much slimmer and more efficient than the 3:1 ratio of most modern motoryachts, while its dry weight of 22 tonnes is almost half that of a normal 70ft GRP flybridge. This in turn enables it to use smaller than normal 800hp MAN engines while still pushing its semi-displacement hull up to a maximum of 24 knots. Four separate fuel tanks with a combined capacity of 10,000 litres and a built-in polishing and balancing system provide the final link in the chain needed to reach the required 1,000nm range.

The layout is equally unconventional with the saloon forward and half a level down from the wheelhouse, and the dining and galley area aft another half a level down.

The owner's cabin sits below the saloon for maximum peace and privacy, with the two twin guest cabins tucked at the opposite end of the boat in the stern. The wheelhouse itself sits proudly aloft at the centre of the action with one door out to the port sidedeck and another to the open flybridge astern with its raised outside helm position and well-protected seating. The only area that rivals it for sheer drama is the engineroom, which enjoys the kind of towering headroom, space and clinical lighting normally reserved for operating theatres.

Soul trader

It all speaks of an owner who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to ask for it. It's a relationship that Sean clearly revels in, praising the customer's vision and technical knowledge. For instance, he insisted on fitting Seatorque's oil-filled BOSS shafts for quieter running and reduced maintenance, and the electrical system is built around a li-ion battery bank so that it can power the air conditioning and Sleipner curved fin stabilisers overnight without having to run the generator. Even simple things like the deep bulwarks, which allow crew to move safely around the decks without the need for ugly stainless steel guardrails, smack of someone who has extensive experience of boating in all weathers.

Above all you get the impression the owner is enjoying the build process almost as much as he will enjoy cruising the finished boat. It's not hard to see why. Stroll around the P70's carcass and you can feel it coming to life. Everywhere you look there's a craftsman or woman using their skills and experience to create their own little work of art. This isn't a production line, it's a group of artisans breathing life into somebody else's vision. I had always assumed that the Spirit Yachts name was a reference to the looks being in the spirit of a 1930s classic. Now I'm starting to wonder whether it's simply because each of its boats, and the P70 in particular, has a spirit and soul of its own.

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