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alcrego · 3 months

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Digital walls, but walls

I encourage you to have a seat and read this little 'essay' I wrote back in 2014 if you really want to understand what I'm doing today. I would be really grateful and I'm sure you'll have a much better understanding of my whole work.

Digital walls, but walls

On the way to space and public art | came across the digital walls. They can be "painted" but they also have the function of limiting, of delimiting, of separating...

A change of paradigm has been happening for some years now with the arrival of the internet, which has completely changed some aspects and concepts that have to do with the world of art and more specifically with urban art or public art. From the beginning, this type of art has been carried out in public places with the aim of being observed by anyone on the street and thus making it free, accessible and free from any premise or institution when it is created. (not considering the "warlike coexistence” with the advertising).

The appearance of the Internet has changed it. A vast majority of the art is seen online on a screen, what questions that the street is the natural canvas of this art discipline. While it is for the one who creates the piece, it is almost never for the one who looks at it. Public spaces are no longer just physical, in the same way that the plastic arts are no longer just plastic.

Due to the access to technology and its cheapness, nowadays it is inconceivable to think of art without considering the whole digital sphere, whether as a tool, a method of creation or of dissemination. But at the same time, all these centuries of art history condition the understanding of art, sometimes acting as a burden in terms of understanding what art is.

The dragging of already preconceived ideas and the weight of the genetic inheritance makes us repeat concepts about what art is and was. In the face of such a rapid change of paradigm, it seems that we find it difficult to understand that this whole new digital world is still the world. Both virtual and augmented reality are also reality, but the fact that it is appreciated through a screen sometimes causes it not to be considered as something artistic or even real. Thinking that way we could say that looking at a piece of art on the Internet does not have its complete experience, since we are not seeing it in the place for which it was devised, and neither are we perceiving it in a direct way, but with a screen as an intermediary. But at the same time, I think about all the content that we consume today with these devices - movies, series, photographs, news, and even art, current and classic - and not because of that we think or say that they are unreal.

At this point, where the analog space merges with the digital space, a new artistic expression is born that is entirely digital, where the final piece is born and ends up in the digital realm. Conceived through digital tools and deposited in the public digital space. These pieces of art suggest skipping the step of "existing" first in the ‘real reality’ to reach directly the virtual reality, which is also reality, and once from there, to have an impact on the analog reality.

It would also be curious to reflect on the parallelism between urban art and digital art, since, being in public places, both are susceptible to being stolen, altered or appropriated by other people for different purposes. And also, on the idea of anonymity, always used by urban artists to be able to work in the street without risk of infringement, and now also used in the digital environment. Either by often using copyrighted content that we find on the web (street 2.0) for an artistic purpose or by the "erosion of sharing” in which at some point someone does not credit the work, but it is still shared. In this case there should be a new word to define those people that everybody knows, but nobody knows who they are. “Famonimous" characters or the concept of "famonimity"; people or artists who are known precisely because they are anonymous.

Since the beginnings of urban art, the idea was to use public space to express oneself freely, but we must bear in mind that public space is nothing more than the remainder of the space divided by the private, the "leftovers" after the developers pass, the worthless places left open to the common people by institutions, etc., etc..... With the change of social, technological and artistic paradigm, urban art has been normalized and is now used as a method of decoration of places in poor condition, as a complement to a public road or simply as a means of open artistic expression as it has always been. Because if the initial objective was to make art accessible, direct and open to everyone, that idea has moved to the internet and, in some ways, the radical idea of urban art would no longer have that sense.

Therefore, if we understand urban or public art as a type of art accessible to everyone, free of charge and without any kind of condition, | believe that digital art fulfils this role today, since it inhabits all public places, whether analog or digital. Urban art needs this digital sphere to be able to expand and be visible. Because nowadays most urban art is seen through screens, not in the place where the piece has been created, which makes all these works more accessible to everyone at any time. And so, the ’paradox of the graffiti artist’ is born, the one who expresses his freedom in the walls that imprison him. These walls generate private spaces and what is outside them is considered public space by the mere fact of being spaces where people pass through. But it does not mean that this public space is open to intervention. Every public space is under the supervision of a privative entity, whether it is a municipality, a company or simply, the property of an individual. Public space does not exist, neither in the ‘real reality’, nor in the virtual one. It is always subject to something superior that manages it.

Within this dilemma, augmented reality becomes another alternative to the path of public art. It gives the possibility of creating art in public spaces, only seen on digital devices, and using the ‘real reality’ as the piece’s canvas. Until recently, photography and/or video were methods of capturing reality. Now, with this change of prism, these disciplines moved from being the purpose itself, to becoming raw material for the creation of other new artistic expressions. In this direction, | want to focus on the gif format. This format is strictly digital, so it gives us the option to edit, to add movement to pieces that, before, condemned to live still. We can spread in on the Internet and make it accessible to everyone at any time. When adding augmented reality, the two concepts intertwine, urban/public art and digital art, what gives rise to new artistic expressions that call into question deep rooted concepts such as museum, art and reality.

There are already many centuries researching, testing and creating the same type of art, whether sculpture, painting.... Except for the birth of new "isms" within these disciplines, it gives the impression that they are exhausted. At this point it would be convenient to think about the idea of unique work, copy, forgery, recreation... Thinking about the evolution of art we must consider that all new progress is born of the technological options that occur in each era. Nowadays, the difference is that progress happens every day, very fast, and it seems that it is difficult (or unwilling) to understand this change because of the speed of it. This cultural and genetic heritage blurs our vision and sometimes prevents us from conceiving new artistic expressions as such, since there are no previous references to support them.

But, at the end of the day, every new artistic expression, in its beginnings, was not art. "Science develops ideas that come from art that is inspired by science.” The world of classical art enjoys an aura of untouchable deity because when we are born it has always been there, but we cannot forget to think for a moment with perspective that all this classical art was created mainly by the entities of power of each era: kings, church, political powers...

This is why today (without underestimating the technique and the work of the artists) these types of classical art enjoy an invulnerability as, in the end, it was created by and for the power itself.

Then, this type of art collides with the urban and/or public art, along with digital art. In the public and digital space those who decide what is "art" are the people.

I am sure that the first Cro-Magnon who used a tuft of horse hairs instead of his own hands to paint was seen as an art/magic/belief apath.

Now we live in a new paradigm shift, but in this case it is not local or national, it is global and immediate.

A. L. Crego, 2014.

#public space #digital art #online #decentralization #alcrego #text #essay

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evilminji · 8 months

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You know one of the purposes of Lining?

Shock Absorption.

If the Zone is the Inter- and EXTRA-Dimensional Lining, connecting, containing, and generally powering all of Multiversal Creation? The Great Primordial Soup? The Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, from which we came and too which we return?

If the Zone itself is basicly the place between Universe, where your soul goes to get washed down, cleaned up, recharged, and sent out to wherever the next random portal takes it? To BECOME whatever you happen to find? An infinte recycler and Multiversal management?

The great metaphorical Yggdrasil, grown far beyond few branches, into an incomprehensible forest of one?

Well!

That kinda changes things! And also nothing! Because it means that those who remain? Are basicly squatting in the DMV's attic. Have built bunkers, under the country's main power generator. They really SHOULD move along. Granted, there is no one to MAKE them... but like...

That's cause no one thought anyone would NEED too?

Lol. Don't they feel silly? Anyway, I'ma put MY house over-! *wander off to go squat in the rafters*

Yeah, the CONCEPTS are native. But those probably just generate naturally. It's all the Souls constantly flowing through. Lots of background Sentience and Memories and such being washed away into the air. But? Then these lil souls were like "yeah, but if THEY get to stay... me too! D:< " "no, you can-" "ME TOO" and then they stopped listening and did what they wanted.

Good thing we have literally infinte amounts of room.

T...there's so MANY, you guys.

But! Not the point here!

*smacks white board* Realities! The Die too sometimes! And get born! A beautiful process, really. You can find Reality Beads if you know When and Where to look, some times. They, OBVIOUSLY, don't last for very long. Since they are basicly just seed universe. The explosive growth takes them almost immediately out of our range of perception, as they Begin.

Foundations of all Life and such.

But good God are they MAGNIFICENT!

However, sometimes? The REVERSE happens. If you find the area of the Zone your in? Is getting... "wavey" is the best way people describe it. Distorted. Fun house mirror. As though your vision has weird wrinkles that are distorting and stretching your view of things? Get Out. FAST.

If it's only SLIGHT? Barely noticeable? You can grab your Lair. IF, and ONLY IF you are NEARBY! If not? Remember. Things can be replaced. YOU? Can not.

Cause that "wavey"-ness? Is the final stage of Realm Entropy. The universe that portion over the Zone is covering and connected too, is all hollowed out. And about to CAVE IN. You DO NOT want to be there when that happens!

Remember! You see "waves"? Fly for three days!

Get to the edge of the affected area then KEEP GOING for a full three days flight. Warn everyone in you path. We stay safe together, guy. Collapses are NO JOKE. People get... well. Let's just say it's NOT a nice way too go.

Knowing this of course? We should all be SAFE right? Respectful if Awed distance from Reality Seeds, run like he'll if "waves"? We Gucci?

.....Sooooorta.

*flips Whiteboard to other side, to reveal a cartoonishly drawn Supervillian labeled "Asshole"*

Behold! A Terrorist!

It's a charged word. Not used lightly. But THESE fuckers? Oh ho ho! THESE fuckers?! "Ooooh~! Look at MEEEEE! I'm gonna play with FORCES I DONT UNDERSTAAAAAAAND! Destabilize my whole funckin UNIVERSE! Kill countless TRILLIONS OF TRILLIONS! Cause life was bad to me personally and I'm mad about it! Wah wah wah!!" ASSHOLES!

These fuckers? Cause Collapses. Blow Outs. Weird Fucked Up Cancerous Real Growths. You ever seen the Cleaners? No? You don't WANT TOO. They are basically eldritch, deep sea, angler fish looking mother fuckers THE SIZE OF SOLAR SYSTEMS. They travel in SCHOOLS.

BIG ONES.

When Realities collapse, they "fall off" as it were. Detach. And have to get recycled. All the countless impurities of Life eaten way to a blank slate. So it too, can start again. Thus the Fish. But! They ALSO eat anything "problematic".

Like tumors. Cancers. Poisoned, Multiversal Threats. Those quote on quote "God Killers".

Yes. Yes this IS part of why you DONT want to be near a Collapsing Reality.

No I WON'T explain how I know.

I DONT WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.

*smack the board with pointer* pay attention.

Jason Todd. Not! An Asshole. Sexy thighs. Fancy lil hair strip. We all miss him. But! He's off living his "no really, I'm totally alive, guys" hot girl summer or whatever. We are going to respect that! But!!! How did that happen? When he was DEFINITELY Hella dead?

Superboy Prime-y Pants. Who IS an ASSHOLE.

Because THAT fucker? PUNCHED HIS REALITY SO HARD IT NEARLY SHATTERED. Oh, no, I'm sorry! He punched SOMEONE ELSE'S reality! Because he is a tantruming MAN CHILD! And NOW? Now, Your Majesty, that WHOLE ASS Reality is more hair line cracks then border walls! One good shove? It'll cave in. Killing every soul inside.

The Cleaners are ALREADY circling.

It needs to be patched. Immediately. But that's not something normal ghosts can DO. The Zone won't LISTEN to us. Nor allocate the energy for it. The Concepts of Healing? We can't even FIND them.

We need help.

Please help them, King Phantom. You're the only one who CAN.

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #Cracked Reality Au

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withoutyouimsaskia · 7 months

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Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 1)

GIF: Originally posted by @tavners

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Home invasion. Voyeurism. Implied masturbation. Dream manipulation.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Wow, this took way longer to finish than I had originally planned. My head's been all over the place with trying (and thus far failing) to find a new job. The themes are very different to what I've written before; I hope it reads okay. Please let me know what you think. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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Fate.

A phenomenon that governed every particle of matter within the known universe and even those beyond.

Some considered it a comforting concept that excused them from the burden of decision making, citing: "I'll leave it up to fate." For others the phrase was a cursory, throw-away comment or a romantic line they heard in the lyrics of a song.

The real truth of the matter was that Fate was a trio of immortal beings, goddesses, with sight so potent that they knew the past, present and future of every individual to have lived. The mythology of the Greeks, Romans and Norse hadn't been too far off with their stories of the Moirai, Parcae and Norns but of course, no humans really believed there to be any realism in myths. They were just stories. It didn't matter either way; they existed and had influence regardless of what the majority believed.

For beings such as The Endless siblings, the presence of Fate in the cosmos was not only real, but also something that affected even themselves.

For the King of Dreams, an eventuality had been prophesised long ago by The Kindly Ones that spoke of a bond that was to be forged between himself and a mortal.

Lord Morpheus, in his pride, had tried to be above such a foretelling, even questioning its validity because the notion of a mortal accepting his version of the universe seemed wholly implausible.

But he could not truly stop himself from wondering about you, reaching out to see if he could feel your presence in the minds of the dreamers he hosted.

It wasn't something he indulged in with frequency. More of a once-in a-decade interval. Enough to appease his curiosity.

Of course, this was put on hold during his imprisonment at Fawney Rig.

Morpheus had had much to contemplate during this period. The damage his absence caused to the collective subconscious, the decay of his realm, the loss of freedom and dignity. There was also a chance that you had been born and died in the 106 years he spent in captivity.

What if he was too late and had lost the chance of discovering who you were?

It was a nauseating prospect that scraped and scratched a space deep within his being; bleeding him of his remaining stores of hope that were so significantly depleted after the death of beloved Jessamy.

Despite the nasty emotional wound, finding you was a charge that he assigned at the end of his priorities after his escape.

Recovering his scattered tools, restoring the Dreaming, locating his absent creations, unravelling the mystery of Rose Walker and confronting Desire all had needed to come first.

The latter interaction had left Morpheus with a seething rage that was currently propelling him down the boards of the dock that sit above the Ocean of Dreams.

The dense mist in the air is buffeted by his movements and the only sounds are the tread of boots, the creak of wooden slats and the lap of water.

With each step, the liquid becomes choppier as it reacts to its master's mood and by the time he has reached the end of the dock, the surface of the water roils fervorously, completely in line with Morpheus' dangerous temperament.

The words of Desire's final silken-toned taunt echo in his mind with grating persistence.

"Oh, poor Dream. I really got under your skin this time, didn't I?"

He is loathe to admit there is truth in the question.

There are moments where Morpheus ponders the turn that the relationship between them has taken. How Desire went from being his favourite sibling to someone one shade shy of an adversary. Their faultless adeptness at provoking his temper and manipulating the events that encircle him would be impressive if not for the danger posed to humanity.

The agitated water eventually draws focus to how out of control he and his emotions have become. Morpheus knows he must get them in check, and quickly, for he knows the consequences all too well should he ignore it.

He clenches his fist and swallows it all down, pushing it deep inside his belly until the crackling entropy of the anger is fully dispelled.

Morpheus then sweeps his coat out behind him as he sinks lithely into a crouch. Trepidation nips at his heart and tugs his attention to a sobering thought.

This foray into the water may be fruitless.

You may be long gone and there would be no way of ever knowing you.

His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath; he has run out of excuses to not look, even if he is afraid of the outcome.

Long, delicate fingers dapple the surface of the inky ocean. The waves still at the touch, obedient to him with instancy.

He repositions to full height and reaches into his coat to find the pouch of sand stashed in the pocket. A handful of twinkling grains slip off his palm into the ocean, lighting the water it touches to a luminous green.

"Find my soulmate," Morpheus commands silently.

The intention is set. He steps off the dock into the water.

At first, like every other prior attempt, there is no sign of you. Morpheus floats submerged in the tepid liquid, filtering through the hubbub of countless other dreams and nightmares.

Then there is a pull.

It is faint yet indisputable. Warmth explodes in his chest and he groans inwardly from the delicious sensation of relief.

You are alive, and you are dreaming.

A path of radiance appears in the water, a line that shows your connection, and provides a location for him to hone in on.

Morpheus dives deeper without hesitation.

As he reaches the edge of your subconscious, he rejoices that he got a handle on his emotions. He wouldn't want your first perception of him to be one tinged with rage, however unaware you were of him, with your soulmate being the source.

He hesitates for a moment before entering the dream you are in and is somewhat taken aback by what he finds.

A room comprising of four blank walls, a floor, a ceiling and a door. There is but one other feature; a window, and its view is as non-descript and inoffensive as the internal space.

You stand by said window, head turned from him.

Despite being unable to see your face, he sees your anxiety with immediacy. It is an aura hovering about your body, being sucked into your lungs with every fast-paced breath.

You begin to throw glances towards the door. Morpheus filters through the layers of the dream. No one is scheduled to come across the threshold.

The more he observes, the more questions arise in Morpheus' mind.

What was making you so affected? What were you expecting to happen?

There's nothing in the scene that is intended to be unpleasant yet you are reacting in a way that most observers would characterise as unsettled.

Morpheus, despite not yet knowing you, doesn't like to see you this way. His dominant instinct is to end the dream but he quashes the desire to review the bigger picture.

The empty room dream was symbolic of a beginning.

It clicks into place.

What you were feeling, even if on a purely instinctual level, was the anticipation of meeting your soulmate and starting your new life.

Morpheus steps into the frame, just a couple of paces behind you.

You feel his presence instantly, eyes full to the brim with tears as you whirl around with a soft gasp.

You see him.

The tears spill and patter onto the white floor.

Morpheus reaches out, overcome by his need to provide comfort.

You disappear.

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Morpheus is sat on his throne. He pores over the book he had located in the Dreaming's library a little over a week ago that contains the details of your life. It is something he has taken to doing when the impatience of waiting for you to fall asleep becomes too keen.

Your subconscious has him enraptured, watching it every night as if it is a stage show. Each dream he delves into is like the tug of fingers on a loose thread, your psyche has begun to unravel before him.

Everything from whims to cravings, hopes to fears. Your temperament, the things that delight and irk you. What drives you and demotivates you. He consumes it all with an insatiable hunger.

Based on the projection of yourself that he sees, there is no doubt that he is attracted to you.

All that prior haughty disregard for the Fates' prophecy has been cast aside like a negative thought in a meditation session. Morpheus is a romantic. A believer. He is ashamed to have even doubted your coming.

He wonders if it would vex Desire to learn of him finding his soulmate and by extension, the prospect of companionship, perhaps even physical intimacy or love.

It is all too easy to imagine the sickly sweet grin they would smile at him, shown to be fake by the almost imperceptible contempt glinting in their golden eyes.

Would his triumph drive them to distraction?

It is this smug sentiment that spurs his next decision. He wants more. The next logical step is to find you in the waking world.

He rises from his throne, a sure hand ready to bring forth his pouch of sand when he falters.

Tears pool in his eyes.

His mind is suddenly marred with the memories of what happened in 1916. The agony, mortification and rage that followed. He couldn't go through that kind of treatment ever again and the waking world expanded the risk of it transpiring.

"No," he says resolutely. His sadness turns to resolve, the hard line of his grimace matching those set in his brows.

He will not let the actions of a group of mortals dissuade him from going to you. And besides, he has researched everything he can about you from within the safety of the Dreaming.

He takes a measure of sand and uses it to materialise within your bedroom.

It is obvious from a quick scan of it that deliberate attempts have been made to ensure the space is cosy and calming.

Two marshmallowy pillows support your head. The cotton sheets have been meticulously tucked to avoid drafts. A lavender reed diffuser fragrances the air with a subtle scent. There are no devices or screens visible.

Everything has its place. A coaster supported glass of water within reaching distance. Touch activated lamp in case of emergency. The diary lined up with the back left corner of the bedside table, pen placed parallel in the spine dent. All clothes are in the wardrobe or stashed in the laundry basket.

Morpheus moves to the curtain-shrouded window and delicately moves the dark, heavy fabric to catch a glimpse of the outside world.

The scene is sepia stained from an old streetlight positioned right outside your home. It explained the choice of curtains.

You stir slightly from the change in environment and Morpheus allows the curtain to fall back in place. He remains stationary until your breathing returns to its previous pace. It is imperative that his presence remains undisclosed. He knows that mortals do not take well to home invasion.

Then, your right hand slips out from the duvet cocoon revealing a cushion cut ruby ring on your middle finger.

He smiles exultantly. The similarity between the jewel and his own now-destroyed dreamstone was undeniable.

The Fates were making it transparent.

You were the one.

Morpheus approaches the side of your bed now. In your momentary discomfort, you had moved your head, making your whole face visible to your uninvited guest.

He bends gracefully so his face is closer to yours and observes you with an intent fascination.

Even in the gloom, Morpheus asserts that your features are even more captivating now that he is able to look upon them in person and is certain that if he could guarantee an absence of fear then he would fall to knees and worship you right there.

Fingers stroke a lock of hair splayed across the pillow and his thoughts turn darker still, imagining what he would do with you if he could get you alone in the Dreaming. How he would seduce you with words, and then pleasure your body with his own until you were senseless.

Getting you there would be so easy, all he needed to do was move his hand up and touch your skin and -

Morpheus stops himself, deciding that now is not the time for an introduction. He will wait until tomorrow. You need to rest. It will be quite the revelation for your sweet mortal heart.

Morpheus whispers a promise, "We will be together soon, my precious soulmate."

He leaves after taking one last look at your peaceful form.

When he returns to the Dreaming, Morpheus discovers that the visit has riled him way beyond what he thought possible.

It was supposed to sate his curiosity and answer some questions.

It has done the opposite.

His craving for you is sublimely intense, opiate-like in its ensnarement.

He needs to possess you. To have you all to himself. Everything would fall into place. Loneliness, disillusionment, jealousy; they would never darken his outlook again. You would heal him, he is certain of it.

He paces restlessly in the low light of his private chambers as heat ripples beneath the surface of his being, charging him with pure sexual lust.

He hungers for the moment when you feel the same about him.

For now, all he can do is stand and touch himself while thinking of your face, an act that has been carried out repeatedly in the days since he found you in the Ocean of Dreams.

An erotic idea enters his mind.

Your subconscious is still in the Dreaming; he knows the feeling of it intimately.

Perhaps he could bring you a dream mirroring his own current fantasy.

To give you a taste of what was to come.

A gift that only he could bestow.

The mere thought of it turns him on even more. His back arches and his eyes roll back as he choses the words through which he would deliver the offering.

"Dream of me," Morpheus murmurs breathlessly. "Dream of me."

He repeats the phrase until he is unable to continue, moans taking over the darkened space around him.

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It is dusk the next day when Morpheus returns to the waking world.

The instant he touches down on the Earth's surface, he knows exactly where to go. The metaphysical connection between you is as strong as the energy pulsing through a ley line.

The city he is directed to is thrumming with life but the side street he stands in has been spared from the furore.

It is fortuitous that he is permitted to be unobserved for Morpheus is struggling now with the urge to get closer.

Providence is pulling him in and also locking him out.

He walks up to the door and then an invisible force makes him back away.

He doesn't even try to fight it.

The Fates hold all the cards. Morpheus is beholden to their each and every whim.

It is surprisingly liberating.

He is dancing in the cross hairs. Blinkered by the tie the universe has fashioned for you.

All he has to do is wait.

The door to the building is pushed open.

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Taglist: @herfantasyworldd

"Fate. Up against your will. Through the thick and thin. He will wait until you give yourself to him."

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mysterycitrus · 11 months

Note

Clearly you’ve got a lot of opinions abt the characterisations of the batfam in fandom /pos

Can you elaborate on your interpretation for all of them? /gen

it’s called caring too much — and it’s incurable! wrt my personal interpretation, that's a long and complicated answer, so ill just focus on the internal character of the waynes (specifically bruce and his five canonical kids).

bruce wayne is a control freak, we know this. his parents were killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he has literally never ever been able to truly process it. the degree to which he is controlling - firing robins, survelling his allies without their consent, compiling personal information from others, disregarding others feelings in favour of his own - is all about trying to achieve the best possible outcome. everything he does is justified, because if he's in control then he can stop bad things from happening. it is all in favour of the greater good. it's the logic of an eight year old who's just lost everything and hasn't grown up.

if bruce's trauma manifests control then dick's manifests personal perfectionism. he holds himself to such an absurd standard because he's a flier - when you're catching someone on the trapeze you quite literally have to be there, always, ready to take their hand. if you don't, they fall. if there's no net, if dick isn't the net, then they die. he’s always swinging back out and in again, waiting for the next person to slip through his fingers. he does not fear falling, only what will happen when he hits the ground. he’s a born performer made to be an atlas, carrying an unbearable weight that anchors him to the earth.

jason after death is a tragedy of his own creation, and dc's worst crime is trying to justify the terrible decisions he makes. jason isn’t right, because what he wants is not about protecting other kids from his fate or being a better batman. he wants to be personally vindicated, even though he knows it's impossible. jason rejected himself, bruce, everything, in order to transform into a weapon to enact violence. deep down he's so angry, so hurt, that he'll go after other children - tim, damian, mia - and still decry bruce in the same breath. killing the joker, killing bruce, killing dick, killing every robin before or since won't take him back to who he was before. you cannot go back. you can never go back.

cass sees everything. she can't unsee it, she can't ignore it, nothing in the body can be truly hidden from her, but like bruce that doesn't mean she's always right. she killed a man and witnessed his death, and thus will never take another life. she is all knowing, but she was not born knowing herself. she's jason in reverse — she turns from steel to flesh and bone. she will do whatever it takes to be good. she has made herself real.

tim chose this life in the most literal sense of the word, and then kept choosing it. it’s his duty, it’s his honour, it has hollowed him out and left nothing behind. his tethers to the world snap one by one — janet and jack and darla and dana and steph and kon — and suddenly it’s much harder to extricate himself from the black. robin, dick grayson, is his guiding north star, but his north star is only human. he knows he is capable, he knows this is his choice, and he knows he has long since lost the chance to unchoose.

damian is raised in the shadow of the bat. he is born of blood. he knew death before he knew his father. he is a child. he is ancient. he is a killer. he only wants to do good. he loves his mother. his father is gone before he learns to love damian. damian loves someone else who wears the bat but does not carry wayne name. everything he knows about himself is questioned — robin is given to him, and suddenly he can decide his own fate, make his own family. he wants to be the best, but he doesn’t know what he wants that to mean anymore. he wants the chance to find out.

#sorry this got long! not sure if i actually answered ur question lol #batfam #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #damian wayne #nightwing #batgirl #batman #dc comics #the ask and the answer #dc meta #ig?

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dorianpavus · 1 year

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Panel from Hell Info Roundup

We got a release teaser trailer!

CHARACTER CREATION/CUSTOMIZATION

Character creation got a revamp! More efforts were made to explain things to someone who hasn’t played D&D before, or one who hasn’t played other Larian games. Classes now also have unique animations when you select them.

Choice options now have a corresponding icon, so you can see what you’re selecting.

There are more available faces to choose from.

Dragonborn and half-orcs are playable at launch.

Warlocks are now able to call on their patron for insight and advice.

New sliders have been added for Maturity (adding wrinkles), Freckle Quantity (and intensity), and Vitiligo Pigmentation.

Horn Customization! Now you can change their color and tip color.

There are scar options.

More hair and beard options! As well as more options for hair colors (including greying) to have tri-colored hair.

Strong/buff body types added!

Piercing options have been added.

Heterochromia option has been added.

Dragonborn can customize their face, crest, chins, and jaws. Skin color options include metallic, almost duo-chrome shades. For white dragonborns, there are also pearlescent effects. Dragonborn Draconic Bloodline sorcerers will get a unique scale pattern that changes color based on your ancestry.

There is also a selection for genitals, which they did not elaborate on, but was selected as ‘default.’

You will meet a character that will allow you to reset your class and respec your abilities.

The team went back from Act 1-3 to make the game more reactive to your choices. If you’re playing something odd or unique, the game should react to it.

THE DARK URGE

They are the new Origin Character, and they are avatar-only; they can only be played by you, not recruited.

You can fully customize their race and class.

They do not know who they are; they are waking up, and the only thing they know is “the bile of their liver, the gushing of their blood, and their ruined body telling them: you’re going to kill and kill again.” They are meant to be a dark counterpoint to the story.

Has unique scenes and storylines unlike anything else we’ve seen thus far.

They have dark impulses and thoughts that tempt them; you can play as embracing it or trying to resist.

At 4:36:55, we have some gameplay of them from early on in Act 1.

KARLACH

She is an Origin Character, and you can recruit her or play as her.

Born and raised in Baldur’s Gate, was sold to slavery in the Hells, and managed to break free. She has an infernal engine for a heart.

She’s a barbarian who has a special rage animation/effect.

Curses a lot.

At 5:20:00, there’s a bit of extended gameplay and one of her romance scenes.

OTHER/MISC COMPANIONS

Many of the companions are good-aligned, including Karlach, Halsin, Minsc, and Jaheira. For evil companions, there is Minthara, who you can recruit in Act 2 depending on your choices.

Wyll has gotten a complete overhaul. Much of his dialogue has been rewritten, and he “can go in two directions” much earlier in the story. He wants to kill Karlach at the beginning of the game, and how that unfolds is up to you.

If you kill your companions, you can hire Hirelings. There are twelve (one for each of the classes), and you can customize and respec them.

Companions will join your camp and be able to come with you along your journey; you don’t have to choose between them, but can swap them out as you see fit. If anyone leaves or isn’t able to be recruited, it will be by your own choices or the narrative.

When you’re playing as an Origin Character, you’re not a mystery to yourself. You’ll get unique scenes and information that you may not otherwise get with them as your companion. For instance, when you go to sleep, you might have nightmares about your past.

A scene relevant to Astarion’s backstory was shown at 4:25:57.

ROMANCE

They tried to show “two people genuinely struggling through a hard time and supporting one another. And you’re not going to be the same person in Act 1 as you are in Act 3. Neither is your partner. Your relationship is going to have to grow along with the game’s story.”

At 4:46:10, they have a video where they discuss this and show scenes from the romances.

How you treat your companions will be reflected in how they treat you. Whether they want to be in a relationship with you, whether they leave your party, or even try to kill you -- all depends on your choices.

“Sometimes it’s actually better to have an argument, and challenge your partner about their way of thinking.”

Some characters will happily share romantic partners with polyamory; some of them won’t.

Characters may have very different romantic endings based on what happens during the game and how you treat them or what you did with them. There’s not just one scene that’s the same for all playthroughs.

You can still romance people on “evil” playthroughs, so long as you play your cards right.

Mature content warning! There is a romance scene between Astarion and Halsin that the audience helped select at 5:32:49. Wowza. Worth getting banned from TikTok?

COMBAT

Multiplayer is up to four people, with split screen.

There are 3 difficulty modes: explorer (or easy), default, and tactician (hard). Tactician mode gives enemies base buffs, but also hand-crafted difficulty increases to encounters.

The “brutal AI” from tactician mode is supposed to feel like a DM that is pushing you to your limits, which manifests in ways like attacking your squishier characters, or trying to break casters’ concentration.

At 5:44:28, there’s a video showcase on the Monk class. Two minutes later, at 5:46:13, there’s some combat gameplay showing off monks and the different difficulty modes.

STORY AND CINEMATICS

At 6:00:40, there’s a video showcasing cinematics, with various clips from the game featured (lots of enemies/creatures shown).

They estimate that running through the main story will take about 80 hours, but it can go multiple times that length if you actually take your time and explore.

174 hours of cinematics doesn’t mean you’ll see all of them; it’s more that there’s so many permutations and reflections of the choices that you made, that you might not even see them all even if you play this game over and over again.

MISC

When you go to camp, you are now able to wear “camp clothes” rather than your armor, which can be toggled on and off. You can find various clothes in the world, and apply dyes to them. You can wear them outside of camp if you want to as well.

Cloaks are added.

The devs prefer not to think of this being a story told to you, but rather a story they are telling with you. Though there are many themes, trust is a big one: who you can trust, why you can trust them, and why the world should trust you as well.

There’s an unboxing of the Collector’s Edition at 6:14:26.

There is a very heavy spoiler chunk of gameplay from Act 2, starting at 6:20:42, which closes out the stream!

#baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #there be some spoilers here! i tried not to include stuff from gameplay #long post #phew that was a doozy

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powerpuffobsession · 4 months

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The whole Eden Lucifer-Adam-Lilith-Eve situation is kinda creepy. I see serious groomer undertones in it, given the difference in Lucifer's and humans' life experience (and to extent, maturity) at the moment

Imagine that you are an adult experienced angel who is present during the making of Eden and the birth of first humans. You also apparently want a wife. And to be a part in creation of Eden. What do you do? Find some female angel to marry and live your life with? Find an actually helpful way of working alongside elder angels?

Nope, instead you meddle with the lives of newborn and inexperienced humans in the most destructive way possible.

You could have helped them sort out their disagreements and actually taught them proper ways to behave. But you don't. You groom the naive female human into trusting you and then you encourage her cheating on the male human, causing trauma and insecurities to corrupt his personality in his first few years of living (the most influential in shaping a person's mentality). Thus you become partly responsible for the vengeful monster he will become in the future

More than that, you take away the female human's chance to live safely in paradise or on earth. Because of aiding you in your not-so-well-thought-out-plan (she didnt have any other choice, you and the male human were the only company she had), she is doomed to be allowed to only live in hell the rest of her life. And you knew that no one in heaven was going to give her the benefit of the doubt

As icing on the cake, you don't stop just on grooming and encouraging cheating, you don't leave the male human alone after you've already did him dirty and abandoned him... you come back and corrupt his new wife for some unclear reason (because your "whimsical" ideas of how you'd do a project elder angels know better how to carry out, are never even elaborated upon).

As a result, you doom not only these three babies in adult bodies but also the entire humanity to a terrifying life of fighting sinful outbursts, suffering, surviving, dying and risking ending up in hell where they'll be suffering for an eternity

I'm not sure if writers will ever hold Lucifer accountable for all this in a proper way. Probably not. But thinking about how much he fucked over first three humans makes me wish more depression on him

At this point, Lilith leaving Lucifer is not surprising. Imagine if after maturing and gaining life experience (and already giving birth to Charlie) she realized how her husband was practically using her. That could be why she left after doing her job of raising Charlie until she became an adult that can survive on her own

(I mean, it could be true if hazbin hotel was good at having the characters live through consequences of their actions and not just making Adam a scapegoat who is supposedly like Stella v 2.0 - evil ever since he was born and already inventing patriarchy with his very first breath. Like, all humans are selfish jerks when they are newborn - that's what parenting is for, shaping something more pleasant out of all that selfishness) (notice how the writing only focuses on how Adam was "bad" back in Eden)

(That also gives me a reason to judge angels in general - just a few narrative details really show how little they cared about the first humans' wellbeing and future. It's their fault too that Lilith ended up in hell and had to make some sort of deal to get a chance to visit her home/ Adam became an immature mentally unstable murderer/ and Eve... dunno, we haven't seen her yet)

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel eve #hazbin hotel

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uncleclaudius · 2 months

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The Lyon Tablet, a transcript of the speech Emperor Claudius had given in the Senate in 48 AD, arguing for the admission of senators from Gaul.

1. I should say at the outset that I reject the first thought that will, I am sure, be the very first thing to stand in my way: namely that you will recoil from my suggestion as though I were introducing some revolutionary innovation. Think, instead, of how many changes have taken place over the years in this state and how many forms and constitutions our state has had, from the time of its very foundation.

2. At one time this city was held by kings, though they did not pass it along to successors from their own families. People from other families came to the throne and even some foreigners. Numa, for example, succeded Romulus, and was a Sabine; that made him a neighbor, certainly, but at the time he was also a foreigner. Another example is Tarquinius Priscus, who succeded Ancus Marcius: because of his impure blood--his father was the Corinthian Demaratus and his mother was from Tarquinii, to Tarquinius Priscus supposedly had a Greek father and an Etruscan mother. And though well-born she was very poor, which is why she was forced to marry such a husband.--Tarquinius was kept from positions of honor in his own land and thus emigrated to Rome, where he became king. Between Tarquinius and either his son or his grandson (for our authorities disagree on this point) there came Servius Tullius. And according to the Roman sources Servius Tullius had as a mother a prisoner of war, Ocresia; according to the Etruscans he had been the faithful companion of Caelius Vivenna and took part in his adventures, and later, when he was driven out by a change of fortune, he left Etruria with all the suriving troops of Caelius and seized the Caeliian hill, which thus takes its name from his leader Caelius, and after changing his name (for his Etruscan name was Mastarna) he was given the name I have already mentioned, and became king, to the very great advantage of the state. Then, after the behavior of Tarquinius Superbus came to be hated by our city--and not only his behavior but that of his sons--the people obviously became tired of monarchy, and the administration of state was transferred to the consuls, who were annual magistates.

3. Why need I mention the dictatorship--more powerful even than the consulship--which was what our ancestors came up with when wars were particularly hard or there was serious civil disturbance? Or why need I mention the the creation of tribunes of the plebs, to provide assistance for the plebs? Why mention transfer of imperium from consuls to the decemviri, and at the end of the reign of the decemviri the return of imperium back to the consuls? Why mention the distribution of the consular power to multiple recipients, called tribunes of the soldiers with consular power, who were first six and then eight in number? Why should I mention the fact that offices that were once patrician ones were shared eventually with the plebeians, religious ones as well as military?

4. If I were to tell of the wars, which our ancestors started with and which have continued down to the present day, I fear that I would appear too boastful, and look as though I wanted to boast about my glory in extending the empire beyond the Ocean. But let me instead return to my original point. Citizenship can ... [some text is lost here]

[column II]

5. Certainly it was a new thing when my great-uncle Augustus and my uncle Tiberius decided to admit into this Senate house the flower of the coloniae and the cities from all over the empire--all of them good and wealthy men of course. But, you may say, is not an Italian senator more useful than a provincial one? When I start explaining this aspect of my censorship I will reveal what I think about that. But certainly I think that provincials should not be rejected, as long as they will be a credit to the Senate.

6. Behold that most glorious and flourishing colony of Vienne: how long has it provided senators for this chamber? From Vienne comes an ornament of the equestrian order with few equals, Lucius Vestinus, whom I esteem greatly and retain even now in my service. May his children, I beseech you, enjoy priesthoods of the first rank, and after that, in the years to come, may they proceed to further honors. (I will not utter the dire name of that brigand—I detest him, that monster of the wrestling-ring—or the fact that he acquired the consulship for his family before his colony had ever obtained the solid benefit of the Roman citizenship. And I could say the same thing about his brother, who suffered a pathetic and fate, and was thus no use to you as a senator.)

7. It is time now, Tiberius Caesar Germanicus, to reveal to the senators where your speech is headed; for you have already come to the extreme limits of Gallia Narbonensis.

8. Consider all the distinguished young men I see before me: the fact that they are senators should cause no more regret than that felt by Persicus--a most distinguished man and a friend of mine--when he reads the name Allobrogicus among the images of his ancestors. And if you agree that this is true, what should I not also point out to you that the land beyond Gallia Narbonensis already sends you senators? We do not, after all, regret that we have men in the senate from Lugdunum.

9. I was somewhat hesitant, senators, about leaving the boundaries of provinces that were well known to you, but now I must make the case for Gallia Comata with some seriousness. If anyone concentrates on the fact that the Gauls resisted the divine Julius in war for ten years, he should consider that they have also been loyal and trustworthy for a hundred years, and had this loyalty tried to the utmost when we were in danger. They it was who provided my father Drusus with secure internal peace when he was conquering Germany, even though he was summoned to the war while in the middle of a census, which was then a new and strange business for the Gauls. And we know from our own experience how difficult the census can be, even though for us it involves nothing more than the public recording of our resources. (tr. E. M. Smallwood)

#ancient rome #roman empire #ancient culture #julio claudian dynasty #emperor claudius #ancient history #ancient civilisations #gallia #lyon tablet #roman history #one of the longest extant speeches we have by an emperor

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maddragon15 · 4 months

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Finalized design for my version of Etho for hermitcraft s10!

Warning long infodump ahead about the decisions made and general lore

So I've had this idea that redstone is like uranium. Powerful, can be used for energy + various machinery and scientific discoveries, used to increase the value of the everyday lives (uranium girls ref) but with the major cause of life deletion/life altering affects. I believe that it would cause more mutations within redstoners over the course of time they are exposed to it and the varying degree that they're covered in it. But redstone is a fairly new resource that has been discovered in the world of minecraft/hermitcraft. So the research behind it isn't as strong nor as known as it should be. Therefore every effect that happens to the pioneers of redstone is completely new and unheard of. Which might be the reason why some builders like Grian, Scar, Ren, Gem, etc are hesitant to fully learn redstone mechanics due to the unknown nature of it but still aren't fully opposed because of the benefits it has.

In my world of hermitcraft for season 10 it's built off of the fact that there's quite a few people leaning into that cybery, technological, sci-fi theme. Like the Punks, then Ren's Gigaverse and of course the nature of Doc in general. So the main story is that this world of hc2410 is that it's a world that was much similar to earth. It went through the usual set of technological feats bit by bit, culture by culture.

For a long time their main power source which fueled everything was glowstone, a semi renewable material exported from the Nether and harvested from blazes and the blaze rods. Blaze rods were grinded down then compressed into glass like bilets which were then heated, strained, and forged into various forms that were needed. For a while it was small 2x2 inch cubes mainly used in lamps and later 6x6 foot cubes for lighthouses. But as the age of the iron wore on, technology looked much like the era of the vacuum tubes.

Thus began the swap of simplified forms of glowstone into the complexities of tubes and the requirement of more materials and longer time to create these specialized parts. Though that didn't stop what pioneers were part of that era, these guys being Etho, Tango, Doc, and Mumbo. Now these guys were very basic hybrids, Etho an arctic fox, Tango a nether born blaze, Doc whom was a rare specices of creeper, and Mumbo who was actually just a human. It took long and multiple days worth of work to even produce what would be a 4 part machine in modern redstone technology with glowstone. Though these guys were at this point young and determined to optimize their creations.

Glowstone in itself was a relatively safe material to work with unless of course consumed, if consumed it would wear down the lining of the stomach, cause holes in the intestines, and heat the user to an unbearable degree akin to the infamous iron bull method of torture except it was your insides and only your insides being subjected to it. To the person that found this out would never be credited and largely forgotten in most history records. Mainly because he died such a painful death and most didn't want to remember it. So when Etho was working on the mines with his crew and discovered redstone there was a guess and perhaps a hope that it would be as safe as glowstone. Therefore safety percautions that were used with materials like obsidian and diamond were thrown out the window. Instead it was instantly collected into glass cylinders and brought back to the workshop to be played around with.

Thus the reason why for most parts of hc2410 many will be seen with previous and malfunctioning innovations or straight up tech from the glowstone era. One of these people is Mumbo who still uses comms from the glowstone era as a way to keep his small hometown economy running because any way to help Big Ron was a win in his book. Pearl is also another example user of older innovations or at least less redstone heavy variations. Rather going into the world of solar, and botany side of technology dubbed leafstone. Other variations of older innovations would also have to be old port towns who used wind and small hydroplants to keep their town running and connected with the rest of the world such as Gem's & Grian's hometown.

With Etho being the main guy who really played around with it and pretty much like at it like ate it like it was sugar was thee very first to experience the mutational effect of redstone. At first his left eye would begin to flicker with rapid involuntary movement, then followed a set of what would be dubbed "chromatic abberation" (etho would be the only one to experience this and no one can confirm what he saw was accurate due to the mental state he was in), and the onset of vision loss. But this wasn't the first and last effect, he would begin to develop a second tail and unusual pelt coloring akin to the color of the newfound material. Much like the later steps of his changes the second tail development was not a pain free one. As the months continued his mental state worsened, this was due to the psychoactive effects of redstone and already altered vision. He would begin to see things that weren't there in a translucent red glow often accompanied by intense localized migraines behind the left eye. It would get so intense and unbearable that in the middle of developing the infamous etho hopper clock he began to claw at his left eye but the fingernails weren't enough and instead used a screwdriver to try to get it out. However Doc and Tango would find Etho moments before a prosthetic eye would take the permanent place of a redstone scarred eye.

Although Etho did wear a mask during the initial stages of redstone development and technology it wouldn't be enough against the sheer intake the 4 went through. Therefore under the careful guise of Xisumavoid, who'd later become the main caretaker/medic and manager, and Doc they would make several changes to how redstone was regulated. Making a mandate that all personnel, consumer, mechanic, and who ever else would have to wear a respirator and gloves during the usage of redstone. You'd think this would be easy to get the crew to swap into using respirators at the very least but it was met with much hesitation and backlash due to the blukiness that came with them. It was already tough to pack around the canisters of redstone, glowstone tubes, and iron baseplates and now they also had to squeeze into tight spaces with a clunky mess? But again Doc and Xisuma found ways to make sure that each member found a way to have their own variation of resperation based upon needs. It wasn't too hard to make one for Etho because he already had a mask but his stubbornness rivaled Doc, and took a near fatal pass out due to lack of blood production, aka just more extreme anemia, and bloody nose to convince Etho to finally add that respirator onto his mask.

Despite however the apparent dangers of redstone it sent the world of hc2410 into a new world of technology seemingly overnight, from clunky 60s-70s style tan and heavy clunk switches into an age more similar to thin touch panels and streamlined designs of now but with the flair of the iconic synthwave/cyberpunk style deemed by the 80s-90s. Yet it was met with strife due to how time consuming redstone was even with several engineers helping out on one project and most innovations were only available to the richest before being thrown out for the latest and greatest.

Also you may recall, if you've made it to this point, that I mentioned that the 4 were basic hybrids. Well much like Etho the effects on the rest weren't simple nor painless, and varied quite differently from each other. But those will be covered once their designs are finished.

I thank you if you've made it this far and I'll see you on the next hermitaday posts! :3

Edit: I also want to include that one of the main design inspos is actually Snakeyes from Gi Joe because that man is absolute gender to me. So why not combine my two favorite guys into one character.

Edit #2: Added more text breaks bc I no longer have 5 am involuntary eye movement. Which is odd because you'd think I'd need more text breaks but it's the opposite.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanart #ethoslab #etho fanart #par art #par hc

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elysiaheaven · 9 days

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𝐈, 𝐉𝐢𝐚𝐨𝐪𝐢𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦-𝟏 The fox's wedding

Words:5207

TW: Mentions of curses, dead people, forced marriage?

Most of the lines are from the Masa works design's onibi series songs! just references since I got this idea from it!

If you think y/n is shitty in the first chapter, get ready to face that it's not true.

Characters that appear in this chapter: Jiaoqiu, Moze, Y/n

The abandoned ship from part of the Luofu which was lost loomed ahead, its dark silhouette against the starry backdrop of the void. Jiaoqiu and Moze approached the vessel, their steps echoing in the silence of the derelict expanse.

Moze, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a mixture of caution and disdain, adjusted his grip on his weapon. "This is a bad idea," he said, his voice a low murmur. "There's a reason this place was abandoned."

Jiaoqiu, ever the optimist despite the grim setting, gave a reassuring smile. "I understand your concern, Moze. But this herb is crucial for General Feixiao's treatment. Her condition is deteriorating, and we need to find it before it's too late."

Moze nodded, though his frown deepened. "If it's that important, then I suppose we have no choice. But if anything goes wrong, remember that I warned you."

As they entered the ship, the musty smell of decay filled the air. The once-magnificent interior was now a maze of twisted metal and debris. Shadows danced ominously across the walls, and the eerie silence was occasionally broken by the distant creaks of the ship's frame.

Their search led them to a chamber filled with a disturbing sight: statues of what appeared to be people, frozen in various poses of agony and despair. The lifelike details of the statues gave them a haunting realism, their eyes wide with a frozen terror that seemed to transcend time.

Moze's gaze lingered on the statues, a shiver running down his spine. "What are these?" he asked, his voice edged with unease.

Jiaoqiu's expression grew somber as he observed the statues. "These statues are a tragic reminder of an old tale," he began, his tone reflective. "It's the story of Y/N L/N, the Goddess of Betrayal. A deity not born from human creation, but from something far more ancient and malevolent."

Moze's curiosity was piqued despite the ominous setting. "Go on," he said, though his eyes remained wary.

Jiaoqiu took a deep breath. "Y/N L/N once aided the Borisin clan during a time of dire need. She provided them with food and sustenance when they were on the brink of starvation. The Borisin people, desperate and grateful, welcomed her aid. But there was a price to be paid."

He paused, looking at the statues with a mixture of sadness and reverence. "The village's guardian deity, a foxian named Eiji, tried to stop her, sensing something sinister behind her gifts. Y/N L/N, driven by her own malevolent desires, killed Eiji and took his place. In doing so, she cursed the people of the village, transforming them into statues as a testament to her betrayal."

Moze's eyes widened slightly. "So these statues are—"

"—the remnants of Eiji's final wish," Jiaoqiu continued, his voice somber. "He wished for everyone, including himself, to be turned into statues and die, hoping to stop Y/N L/N's wrath. But as a spirit, she couldn't die. Instead, she was bound to the human realm through marriage. If someone were to marry her, they would be bound to her forever. If they tried to escape, they would die. The only way to defeat her was through a clever scheme: to trick her into giving up her soul, thus betraying the Goddess of Betrayal herself."

Moze's gaze fell back on the statues, their cursed faces a chilling reminder of the power of betrayal. "I see. And you believe this herb will help Feixiao?"

"Yes," Jiaoqiu affirmed, nodding. "The herb is said to have properties that can counteract the Moon Rage affliction. It's our best hope."

Jiaoqiu and Moze moved deeper into the abandoned ship, their search for the herb proving more challenging with each step. The air grew colder, and the silence seemed to press in on them, broken only by the occasional clatter of debris.

As they entered a large chamber, Jiaoqiu's eyes were drawn to a wall covered in ancient writings and inscriptions. The text, faded and worn, was in a language he recognized from his studies—a mix of old Borisin dialects and forgotten scripts. Despite Moze's warnings, Jiaoqiu was intrigued by the historical significance.

Moze, ever the skeptic, approached with a concerned expression. "This is a bad idea, Jiaoqiu. We're here for the herb, not to play historian. The more time we spend here, the greater the risk."

"I understand," Jiaoqiu replied, his eyes still fixed on the inscriptions. "But knowledge can be as valuable as the herb itself. There might be information here that could aid in understanding more about our current situation."

Ignoring Moze's concerned sigh, Jiaoqiu began to decipher the texts, his fingers tracing the old characters with a mixture of reverence and curiosity. As he read, he stumbled upon a section that described a statue of a girl. The description was both enchanting and tragic—a girl with delicate features, her hands seemingly outstretched in acceptance, yet her eyes filled with sorrow.

Driven by a strange compulsion, Jiaoqiu moved towards a pedestal at the center of the chamber where the statue was displayed. The statue was exquisitely detailed, her features so lifelike that she seemed on the verge of tears. Her hands were poised as if she had accepted an offering, but the sadness in her eyes was palpable.

Jiaoqiu reached out and gently touched the statue. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt an intense pull, a deep yearning to kiss the statue's cold, sculpted lips. He found himself inching closer, drawn by an inexplicable force.

"Jiaoqiu!" Moze's voice cut through the haze. "What are you doing? Snap out of it!"

But Jiaoqiu was beyond hearing. The closer he got, the more overwhelming the sensation became. The statue seemed to come alive with an eerie allure, its sorrowful eyes mesmerizing him.

Suddenly, Moze, sensing the danger, lunged forward. "Get away from that statue!" he shouted, grabbing Jiaoqiu's arm and pulling him back.

The moment Moze's hand made contact, the statue's eyes flashed with a malevolent glow.

Jiaoqiu, now freed from the statue's grip, staggered back, his mind clearing. "There's a monster, behind it." he said, his voice trembling.

Moze drew his weapon, his face set in a determined scowl. "We need to fight. Stay sharp!"

The creature let out a guttural roar, its monstrous form shifting and writhing. It charged at them with surprising speed, its eyes still glowing with that hypnotic light. Jiaoqiu, shaking off the lingering effects of the statue's influence, joined Moze in the battle.

Moze moved with precision, his strikes calculated and deadly, while Jiaoqiu used his agility to dodge and counterattack. The ship's dim lighting cast eerie shadows on the walls as the battle raged on, each movement and strike reverberating through the cold, silent chamber.

Jiaoqiu managed to land a solid blow, causing the creature to stagger, but its eyes continued to glow with a hypnotic pull. Moze, sensing the need for a decisive strike, aimed for the creature's core, hoping to end the threat once and for all.

With a final, powerful strike, Moze hit the creature's core, and the monster let out a final, anguished roar before collapsing into a lifeless heap. The hypnotic glow in its eyes faded, and the chamber fell silent once more.

Breathing heavily, Jiaoqiu and Moze stood amidst the remnants of their battle. The statue was now just a broken relic, its enchantment defeated. Jiaoqiu's hands trembled slightly as he looked at the fallen creature.

"Thank you," Jiaoqiu said, his voice shaky. "I almost—"

"Don't mention it," Moze interrupted, his tone firm. "Let's get what we came for and leave this place before there are more surprises."

Jiaoqiu's eyes were drawn back to the statue as he and Moze took a moment to catch their breath. Something nagged at him, a detail he had initially overlooked in the heat of battle. The statue's kimono—

He noticed that the kimono was worn right over left, a clear indication that it was a garment meant for the deceased. In contrast, living people traditionally wore their kimonos left over right. This detail, combined with the kitsune mask that adorned the statue, suddenly clicked in his mind.

"This... this is the Goddess of Betrayal's statue," Jiaoqiu hissed, his voice barely a whisper. The realization sent a chill down his spine. "It's her!"

Before he could say more, the monstrous creature, still lying in wait, let out another guttural roar. The statue's form shifted and writhed, its monstrous nature fully revealed. It charged at them once more, its eyes glowing with that hypnotic allure.

Moze, seeing the danger intensify, made a split-second decision. "Jiaoqiu, get out of here!" he shouted. "I'll hold it off. You need to save Feixiao. Get to the herb and get out!"

"No, Moze, we need to—" Jiaoqiu began, but Moze pushed him back towards the entrance of the chamber.

"Go! I'll handle this. I can't let you both die here," Moze said firmly. With a swift motion, he activated a mechanism on the door, locking Jiaoqiu inside the chamber with the monster.

Jiaoqiu's protests were drowned out by the clamor of the battle. He tried desperately to force the door open, but it was securely locked. He pounded on the door, shouting for Moze, but his cries were met only with the sounds of the struggle beyond.

Then came a scream—a piercing, agonizing sound that cut through the chaos. Jiaoqiu's heart sank as he realized it was Moze's voice. The sounds of the fight grew more desperate, and then suddenly, everything went quiet.

Jiaoqiu's breaths came in short, panicked gasps as he searched for a way out. His eyes darted around the chamber, looking for any possible escape route or a way to help Moze. But the door was firmly locked, and the only other exit seemed to be the way he came in—blocked by the monster now.

He turned back to the statue, his mind racing. The legends had spoken of the Goddess of Betrayal's curse: she could only return to the human realm through marriage, and if someone attempted to escape from her, they would die. The only way to save Moze—and himself—was to somehow appease the goddess, even if it meant sacrificing his own freedom.

Jiaoqiu felt a wave of desperation wash over him. He knew what kind of malevolent spirit Y/N L/N was reputed to be—a being who had betrayed the town. Yet, if he wanted to save his friend and complete their mission, he had to confront this deity.

He approached the statue with trembling steps, his heart pounding in his chest. The goddess's eyes seemed to follow him, their hypnotic glow now more pronounced than ever. Jiaoqiu took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he knew he had to do.

"I'm here," he said, his voice quavering but determined. "I'm willing to make a pact. I'll do whatever it takes."

As he spoke, the air around the statue seemed to shimmer with dark energy. Jiaoqiu could feel the pressure of the goddess's power building, an oppressive force that threatened to overwhelm him. But he remained resolute, focused on saving Moze and fulfilling their mission.

"I'm not afraid," Jiaoqiu declared, his voice growing stronger. "I'll marry you if it means saving my friend and completing our mission. I'll do whatever it takes."

Jiaoqiu's heart raced as he stood before the statue, holding the ancient text that revealed the solution to their dire predicament. The spell was clear—marriage to the kitsune spirit was the only way to save his friend. With a resolute expression, he read the incantation aloud, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him.

As he completed the spell, the statue's eyes began to flicker with life. Jiaoqiu approached, feeling the weight of his decision press heavily upon him. The goddess, a tragic figure bound by her curse, had her eyes closed, her form still and lifeless. He knew what he had to do to seal their pact.

With trembling hands, Jiaoqiu leaned in and pressed his lips gently against the statue's. The kiss was soft, almost tender, yet it carried the weight of his desperation and hope. As his lips met the cold stone, a shiver ran through him. The sensation was like stepping into a dream, where reality blurred with the ethereal. The statue's form began to change, her features softening, and her kimono—a deep, wine-red with black sashes and a grey obi—flowed around her as she transformed.

For a moment, you, the Goddess of Betrayal, felt the warmth of his kiss. Your eyes fluttered open, revealing a deep sadness mingled with an ancient, inscrutable power. You could see Jiaoqiu before you, his features illuminated by the dim light—a young man with pale salmon-colored hair and golden eyes that reflected a mixture of determination and vulnerability. He was almost hypnotized by the act, his gaze locked with yours as he awaited your response.

"You've bound yourself to me," you said, your voice a whisper that echoed with a sadistic edge. "How cute, a foxian marrying me. After all, it was a foxian I once killed with my own hands."

Your eyes softened momentarily as you gazed at him, your lips curving into a dark, melancholic smile. You leaned closer and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, a gesture both affectionate and haunting. "I will be a good wife, haunting you through every step you take."

Jiaoqiu's eyes widened, a mix of fear and awe reflected in them. He didn't fully understand the depth of your power or the true nature of your curse, but he sensed the gravity of his situation.

"Please," Jiaoqiu implored, "save Moze. He's in grave danger."

You nodded, You moved swiftly, your form a blur as you used your powers to navigate the darkened corridors of the temple. Your presence was a haunting shadow, manipulating the very essence of the surroundings to achieve your goal.

The scene was surreal: you, a goddess bound by a curse, moving with a grace that was both unsettling and beautiful. The power you wielded was palpable, shaping the environment around you as you searched for Moze.

Finally, you reached Moze's location, your eyes narrowing as you saw him injured but alive. With a decisive motion, you used your abilities to mend his wounds and transport him out of the locked chamber. The process was swift, the air around you shimmering with the force of your will.

Jiaoqiu, witnessing your actions, felt a mixture of relief and awe. He had bound himself to you in a moment of desperation, but now, as he saw you save his friend, he understood the complexity of his choice. Your presence was both a blessing and a curse, a reminder of the tragic fate that had led you to this moment.

With Moze safe and the immediate danger averted.

Moze's frustration was palpable as he slapped Jiaoqiu across the face, his eyes blazing with anger and confusion. "Why did you sacrifice yourself?" he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Why did you throw away everything for this?"

Jiaoqiu's eyes were red with tears, his face a portrait of anguish and resolve. "Because... because you were my friend," he choked out, his voice trembling. "And Feixiao was like family to me. I couldn't let him suffer, even if it meant enduring this... this fate. I would rather suffer myself than let him down."

Moze's silence was replaced by a fierce, unspoken rage. He raised his hand to slap Jiaoqiu again, his expression a mix of sorrow and fury. But just as his hand was about to connect, you, levitating gracefully above the floor, intervened. Your ethereal presence was both commanding and terrifying as you stopped his hand with a mere flick of your wrist.

"Hold your hand, mortal," you said, your voice echoing through the chamber with a chilling calm. "You're the emi of our lives, I don't wanna hurt you."

Moze pushed against the air with a sense of futile defiance, his frustration evident as he faced you. "You're not welcome here," he growled, his blade grasped tightly in his hand.

You hovered there, a spectral figure of disdain and amusement. "What are you looking at, while grasping that blade in your hand?" you taunted, your voice dripping with mockery. "Shall we speak to him, who can't recover his old self? You mock the very reason why he married me. I find it quite amusing—laughable even—that he chose to bind himself to me."

You floated closer, your gaze sharp and unforgiving. "He chose to sacrifice himself for a cause greater than your understanding. It is because of you that Jiaoqiu married me."

Your laughter was haunting. Moze's anger seemed to falter under the weight of your words, his expression a mix of confusion and disbelief as he struggled to comprehend the depth of Jiaoqiu's sacrifice and your own cruel amusement.

You continued to hover, your laughter echoing ominously through the chamber. The sound was both mocking and sorrowful, an unsettling blend that seemed to deepen the shadows around you. Moze, seething with anger and desperation, stepped forward, his voice fierce and filled with an edge of menace.

"The Luofu will see to it that you are beheaded," Moze threatened, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're nothing but a curse upon us. Leave Jiaoqiu alone, and get out of here!"

You looked at him with a cold, unsettling calm, your expression unphased by his fury. "Oh, I am the victim here, Moze," you said with a haunting smile. "I am bound to this curse, and I cannot turn back into a human unless I am married to someone for thirty days. Only then will I be freed from this torment."

Your eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger lighting up your gaze. "And yet, you ask me to leave, to abandon the one who bound himself to me. How quaint. You insist on telling me not to leave. Are you so eager to ensure my suffering continues?"

Jiaoqiu, sensing the growing tension, stepped between you and Moze, his voice urgent yet pleading. "Please, stop haunting Moze. He's already suffering enough."

You turned your gaze to Jiaoqiu, your expression momentarily softening as you regarded him. "And why should I? He is the one who forced this fate upon me. Yet, you plead for his sake. How touching."

Moze's eyes hardened, his tone laced with disdain. "Loyalty for a goddess after betrayal? Is that what you value so highly?"

For a moment, you were taken aback, a flicker of confusion crossing your features. The question struck a chord deep within you, stirring emotions you had long buried under layers of bitterness and rage. But you quickly masked your confusion, a cold smile returning to your lips.

"It seems you misunderstand," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "Loyalty is but a tool, a means to an end. Betrayal and loyalty are mere players in the game of fate. I am bound by my curse, and he—Jiaoqiu—has chosen to play his part in this tragic tale."

Your gaze shifted back to Moze, your eyes reflecting a mixture of sorrow and disdain. "But remember, it is not just loyalty or betrayal that defines us. It is the choices we make, the sacrifices we endure, and the consequences of our actions. If you wish for me to leave, then so be it. But know that I will not forget the role each of you plays in this twisted narrative."

As you floated closer to Jiaoqiu, leaving Moze behind, your presence seemed to envelop the room with an eerie calm. Jiaoqiu, sensing the intensity of your gaze, instinctively took a step back, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and resignation.

You hovered gracefully before him, your expression softening into a smile that was both unsettling and strangely tender. Despite your past hatred for the foxians—rooted in deep-seated bitterness and betrayal—you found yourself unable to hate him. There was something about Jiaoqiu's demeanor, his gentle features, and the earnestness in his eyes that disarmed you.

"You know," you said softly, your voice carrying a strange, melodic tone. "Despite everything, I find I cannot hate you. You are so kind, so pretty in your own way. It is a rare thing, to find such sincerity amidst the shadows."

Jiaoqiu's heart pounded as he looked at you, his fear palpable. To him, your kind smile felt more like a haunting specter of doom than a promise of salvation. He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the weight of the situation, and gave a slow, hesitant nod.

"I will be a good wife to you," you continued, your voice imbued with a gentle assurance that contrasted sharply with the chilling atmosphere. "I will fulfill the role expected of me. Though we are not officially married, this bond we have is undeniable."

As you spoke, Jiaoqiu tried to create some space between you, his hand trembling as he attempted to maintain distance. "We didn't marry officially," he said, his voice strained, trying to maintain his composure.

You chuckled softly, the sound both melodic and unnerving. you floated away, your presence lingered, leaving an unsettling stillness in the chamber. A soft, eerie light began to emanate from the statues, and suddenly, they began to stir. One by one, the statues moved as if guided by invisible strings, their once-stone forms now animated like puppets. The room came alive with a spectral, unsettling energy.

Moze, still bound and struggling, looked on in shock as the statues—now eerily lifelike—took their places around him, their movements synchronized in a macabre dance. His eyes widened as he realized the full extent of your powers and the dire situation he was in.

In a swirl of shimmering light, you transformed into a vision of ethereal beauty. The Kinmokusei blossom petals surrounded you, their sweet fragrance filling the air as you emerged in traditional Japanese wedding attire. The kimono you wore was a stunning array of intricate patterns and colors, the fabric flowing gracefully around you. Your appearance was both enchanting and unsettling, a blend of elegance and menace.

The statues, now fully animated, assumed the roles of your attendants. They moved with a precision that spoke of long practice, preparing the room for the grand event. Their silent, expressionless faces and fluid movements added to the surreal atmosphere.

You giggled softly, the sound a strange mix of joy and malevolence. Your eyes sparkled with a twisted delight as you directed the attendants, arranging the room and ensuring everything was perfect for the occasion.

Jiaoqiu, observing the transformation with a mix of dread and confusion, was soon approached by the attendants, who gently but firmly guided him into a male kimono designed specifically for the wedding. The kimono was elaborate, its fabric rich and luxurious, adorned with intricate embroidery that contrasted sharply with the somber atmosphere.

As Jiaoqiu was dressed in the ceremonial attire, he looked at you with a mixture of fear and resignation. You stood before him, your smile a blend of satisfaction and cold determination.

"Isn't it wonderful, Jiaoqiu?" you said, your voice sweet but carrying an underlying edge. "The ceremony is almost ready. All that remains is for us to finalize our bond."

Jiaoqiu's heart raced as he took in the surreal and haunting scene around him. The once-stone statues now moved with a life of their own, and the atmosphere was thick with the sense of impending doom. The wedding was no longer a mere formality—it had become an eerie, otherworldly ritual that tied him irrevocably to you.

As you approached, your gaze never leaving him, Jiaoqiu knew there was no escape from this twisted ceremony. The realization of his fate, bound by your will and the powers you wielded, left him feeling both trapped and powerless. The room, filled with the soft glow of Kinmokusei petals and the haunting presence of your attendants, seemed to pulse with a life of its own, marking the beginning of a dark and unbreakable bond.

The scene before Jiaoqiu was straight out of a nightmare, a dark and twisted version of a wedding ceremony. The once-stone statues, now animated and lifelike, moved with eerie precision. They formed a haunting procession, their eyes vacant yet filled with an unnatural, ghostly light. The atmosphere was thick with an oppressive silence, broken only by the soft rustling of Kinmokusei petals.

Moze, bound and helpless, watched in grim horror as you, now an embodiment of spectral elegance, took your place at the center of this unholy ceremony. Your mask, a golden fox visage, added to the sinister aura, its eyes glinting with a malevolent light.

With a commanding gesture, you pushed Jiaoqiu forward. He stumbled, his movements shaky, as the procession of animated statues—now disturbingly alive—moved in a perfectly synchronized manner. Each statue seemed to have a purpose, their once-dead eyes turning toward the couple as if they were part of the ceremony.

The statues, their faces twisted into grotesque smiles, began to twist their necks in unison, their bodies contorting in unnatural ways. Their movements were eerily fluid, as though they were performing an intricate, macabre dance. Despite their movements, their expressions remained hollow, a haunting echo of their former selves.

"You see, Jiaoqiu," you said softly, your voice carrying a dark, hypnotic undertone. "This is our wedding. A ceremony that binds us in ways beyond the mortal realm. These are the witnesses and the blessings. They are alive, in a sense, but bound to this realm by my will."

As you spoke, the statues' necks twisted further, their bodies stretching and contorting in a grotesque mimicry of life. They seemed to move with a purpose, their eerie, synchronized motions creating an unsettling harmony. The sight was both mesmerizing and horrifying, a testament to your power and the dark magic you wielded.

You floated gracefully behind Jiaoqiu, your presence both alluring and terrifying. The Kinmokusei petals drifted around you, their fragrance now tinged with an undertone of dread. Your mask, a symbol of your divine but twisted nature, added to the surreal and menacing atmosphere.

Jiaoqiu, his heart pounding and eyes wide with terror, looked around at the grotesque spectacle. He felt a deep sense of dread as he realized the full extent of his predicament. The once-beautiful ceremony had transformed into a dark, demonic ritual, and he was at its center, bound by fate and your will.

The statues, now eerily alive and animated, continued their dance, their movements a haunting echo of a ceremony long forgotten. They were both the audience and the participants in this unholy union, their twisted forms a stark reminder of the price Jiaoqiu had paid for attempting to save his friend.

The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as the ghostly figures completed their macabre dance. The haunting melody of the Kinmokusei blossoms floated around you, casting an ethereal glow on the scene. Jiaoqiu, trembling with fear and resignation, stood at the center of this twisted ceremony.

With a chilling grace, you approached him. The Kinmokusei petals continued to fall gently, their sweet scent now mingling with the oppressive dread in the air. Your attire had shifted to an elaborate Japanese wedding kimono, its intricate patterns and vibrant colors creating a stark contrast to the dark ritual unfolding. The ceremonial clothing was as elegant as it was eerie, a blend of tradition and otherworldly menace.

Jiaoqiu's eyes darted nervously from the animated statues to you. He took in your transformed appearance, the golden fox mask and the flowing kimono adding an otherworldly grace to your already haunting presence. His heart raced as he struggled to process the reality of the situation.

"Jiaoqiu," you said softly, your voice a haunting whisper that seemed to echo through the stillness. "We are bound by fate and ritual. This is our union, sealed by the forces beyond."

You reached out to him, your fingers cold and otherworldly as they brushed against his cheek. Jiaoqiu's breath caught in his throat, the touch both unsettling and strangely intimate. He closed his eyes, trying to brace himself for what was to come.

With a deliberate and practiced motion, you guided Jiaoqiu to the center of the ceremony. The statues, now fully animated, encircled the couple, their eyes fixed on the scene with a mix of eerie devotion and hollow anticipation. Their twisted forms seemed to sway in rhythm with the ceremony, creating an unsettling backdrop for the final act.

The ceremony's focal point was a large, ancient scroll held by one of the statues, its intricate symbols glowing with an unearthly light. You took the scroll and unrolled it, revealing the ancient marriage vows inscribed in a language both arcane and familiar. You began to recite the vows in a low, melodic chant, your voice weaving a spell of binding and enchantment.

Jiaoqiu, still trembling, tried to maintain composure. His heart was heavy with the weight of the situation, but he understood that there was no turning back. He nodded slowly, accepting his fate as you continued to recite the vows.

As the final words of the incantation left your lips, you moved closer to Jiaoqiu. Your eyes locked onto his, and you could see the mixture of fear and determination reflected in his gaze. With a gentle yet firm motion, you tilted his chin upward and leaned in to seal the marriage.

Your lips met Jiaoqiu's in a kiss that was both chilling and profound. The contact was not just physical but also mystical, a connection that seemed to bind your very souls together. Jiaoqiu felt a strange sensation, a mix of warmth and cold, as if he were being enveloped by a force that was both beautiful and terrifying.

As the kiss deepened, Jiaoqiu's mind swirled with a blend of emotions. The kiss was hypnotic, drawing him into a realm where time seemed to stand still. He felt a strange comfort amidst the dread, a bond forming between you both that transcended the ordinary.

When the kiss finally ended, you pulled back slightly, your eyes shining with a mix of satisfaction and cruel delight. The ceremony was complete, and the bond between you and Jiaoqiu was sealed. The statues, now fully animated, seemed to exhale a collective sigh, their movements becoming more fluid and less menacing.

Jiaoqiu, now officially bound to you, looked around at the eerie assembly of figures. His expression was a mix of relief and fear, knowing that he was now a part of this twisted ritual. The haunting beauty of the ceremony was over, but the implications of the union were just beginning to sink in.

You smiled softly, your gaze lingering on Jiaoqiu. "Welcome to our eternal bond, my dear husband," you said, your voice echoing with a sinister undertone.

Acquired to exchange our lost bodies, Our twofaced thoughts,half dreaming,half awake In the end, I embrace & whisper to you Open it? Open it? Open it? Open it!

"Wake up!"

#honkai star rail #jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu hsr #jiaoqiu #hsr jiaoqiu #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail fanfic

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santoschristos · 4 months

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The Tree of Life - Binah - Kabbalah and the Sephirot

Binah is the womb from which all souls are born, Chokmah the energy that the soul is made of, and Kether the idea of the soul within the Monad itself. In fact at the level of the Supernal Triad, Kether is the self-realization of the Supreme Being that emanates from En Sof, Chokmah is its Living Spirit and Creational Force, and Binah is its Supernal Soul Body through which the Spirit may interact with the lower realms of creation. The soul has always been associated with a feminine energy by Kabbalists as well as many other traditions. Similarly Binah is the Supreme Feminine Archetype, while the Spirit, Chokmah, is the Supreme Masculine Archetype and Kether, the Supreme Union Archetype. Chokmah and Binah are El and Eloha, the creator God and Goddess of this system, together in Divine Union and balance they are Elohim. Kether, however, is neither masculine nor feminine, it just is. The god name associated with Kether is EHEI (Eheyeh), which means “I Am” or “To Be”.

The supernals are the “3 mothers” associated with the Hebrew Letters Shin (spirit/fire), Aleph (air), and Mem (water), which are also the 3 mother rays of Amon Ra: numbers, letters, and sounds that are used to write the name of God, from which all creation comes. The third ray, Binah (Mem), being the one from which all other rays and creational energies are birthed or emanated out from. We see this in the Kabbalah by the path that the lightning bolt or ‘flaming sword’ takes as it carries the creational energies down from source to Malkuth. Binah is the last of the supernals that it enters before coming into the lower realms. Thus, Binah is the closest of the supernals to the world of form, hence it is the original archetypal form, whereas Chokmah is the original archetypal force. These roles of form and force can also be explained through the beginning stages of creation.

Before the beginning of creation there was only En Sof. En Sof was everything, yet no-thing, everywhere and nowhere, all potential but nothing manifest… At this stage En Sof does not even know it exists and has no concept of creation. And then a contraction occurs. En Sof contracted within its own being and from this withdrew from an infinitesimal point. This point became the center and it was a void. But even in its state of void, it still contained the memory of the essence of En Sof that previously was there. This center point of all existence is called the Shekinah by some Kabbalists – the feminine aspect of En Sof. In the very instant that En Sof contracted and this void was formed, so too did the infinite capacity of En Sof move to fill the void, for there can be no place that is not one with En Sof. As the energy of En Sof moved into this infinitesimal point it became a concentrated and intensified spark of light. This spark of light is Kether (the Center Point of the Universe). In the same instant, the intensity filling this point became so great that there was an outward explosion of light and energy moving in all directions. This dynamic expansion is Chokmah (the Big Bang and the photons/energy of light). But the influence of the feminine aspect to define the space and allow for creation was still present as a reflection of the Shekinah, and this influence served as a vessel for the energy to pour into and then subsequently be channeled through towards manifestation. This vessel or womb that channels and directs the light is Binah (Primordial Matter, which leads to Gravity, which is an attractive force that draws things into form). Einstein’s famous equation E=mc2 can be related to the supernal triad, where E is Energy, whose essence is derived from Kether; c is the speed at which light travels outward from its source, which is Chokmah; and m is the mass of matter, which can be likened to Binah. The union of matter and the speed of light (mc2), Binah and Chokmah, releases an extraordinary amount of energy (sourced from Kether) that can be used for creation below the Abyss.

Thus the light flows on across the Abyss, through Daath, and on to Chesed then down the rest of the Tree until it finally reaches Malkuth. But it is Chokmah that generates the life force energy that enlivens the process of creation, while Binah is the womb that holds the egg that, once impregnated by Chokmah’s life-giving seed, becomes the vessel that gives birth to the other 7 sephiroth.

Geometrically, these initial stages of creation are represented by nothing (En Sof), the empty/black point (Shekinah), the full/white point (Kether), the line (Chokmah), and the triangle (Binah). Thus Binah is also the foundation of the entire Supernal Triad, whereas Kether is its root/source, and Chokmah its life force, and En Sof is the unseen/unknowable essence that flows through all of it. The triangle is the first form created and thus it is the primary key to the powers of heaven (the square and circle being the other two keys).

The supernals are in a realm that is beyond the human mind, thus any discussion of them can only be limited to metaphors and symbolic language. And because they are all just three aspects of a unity, it is difficult to say anything about any one of them alone. To say anything at all is to define, separate, and limit, thus not a true representation of the supernals. And yet, often in books these are the three parts of the Tree that are given the most attention – perhaps because they are the furthest from what we are acquainted with and hence the most mysterious and alluring. But truly, the only way to come to know and understand the supernal realm is through direct experience, which is the purpose of the ascension up the Tree of Life, which culminates in the crossing of the Abyss. This ascension brings one the vision of seeing God “face-to-face” – the inner and outer God. This experience may only be a momentary glimpse, but even that is enough to change your life, and it will give you the experience through which wisdom and divine light may illuminate your entire being.

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tritoch · 8 months

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one thing i like to do when i'm feeling too unbothered and chill and normal is read venat discourse on twitter. makes me insane every single time it comes up. "she placed herself as a god above the ancients and judged that they had no right to live" "she was taking the only path available to her to stop meteion and defeat the final days because it needed to be a race that could handle dynamis" wrong wrong wrong! learn to read!

venat was stopping a planned mass sacrifice of non-ancient life by the only means available to her. that is the primary motivation for the sundering. shadowbringers says this to you, very very clearly. hythlodaeus in "a greater purpose," 5.0 (this is when you're chilling at the DMV together):

The Convocation of Fourteen─well, it was Thirteen at the time─endeavored to create a will for our star. They would repair the fundamental laws of order and halt the spread of destruction. But creation on such a scale required an immense source of power... Of those of us who still lived, nearly half offered up their lives in the name of salvation. And from their sacrifice, Zodiark was born. Just as we had hoped, He reached forth and halted the march of oblivion. ...Yet oh how the star had suffered. So many species lost. The land was blighted, the waters poisoned, and even the wind had ceased to blow. Once more did our people give of themselves to Zodiark. Another half of our race sacrificed to cleanse the world; to ensure that trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives would sprout and grow and flourish. The cycle of life had begun anew, and we reconsidered the means by which we might protect it. The Convocation decided thus: we would nurture our world until it was bursting with vitality. Then, when the time was right, we would offer some portion of its living energy to Zodiark... In return, He would restore to us those brethren whose souls had fed His strength, and together we would resume our role as stewards. There were, however, those who disagreed with this plan. They argued that enough had been sacrificed to Zodiark─that this new world should belong to the lives newly born. These dissidents surrendered their life energies in the creation of Hydaelyn, an incarnation of their opposing belief. And for the first time in history, our people stood divided... Know you, then, how this conflict ended?

Hythlodaeus is very clear: Following the first 50% sacrifice to Zodiark, the land was dying and there had been a mass die-off. A second 50% sacrifice (so 25% of the pre-Zodiark Ancient population) resolved that, cleansing the world and restoring nature and non-Ancient life. Afterwards, the Convocation planned a third sacrifice: they would "nurture [the] world until it was bursting with vitality," the "trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives" he describes earlier, and then sacrifice some considerable amount of that life to restore the Ancients comprising Zodiark.

People pretend that there's a lot more ambiguity on this point than there is, but it's quite clear that when he says "myriad tiny lives," he is saying something that encompasses the modern peoples of Eorzea or their very near ancestors (it's only been about 12,000 years since the Sundering. For comparison early modern humans emerged about 300,000 years ago, and there's no suggestion I'm aware of that evolution even exists on Etheirys anyhow). There's a couple very strong pieces of evidence for this:

First, anything that exists on multiple shards must have existed pre-Sundering, since there's close to no multidimensional travel (barring Ascians and the Exarch). Thus, all the player races, which we know exist on each shard so far, as well as, say, the Amalj'aa, the Kobolds, the Sahagin, and the Qiqirn, all must have existed before the Sundering since we also see them on the First.

Second, the phrasing of "trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives" positions "lives" as a category that encompasses everything that isn't trees and grasses. We can surmise that when he describes the Hydaelyn faction standing for "lives newly born" he's again describing basically everything that isn't plants. this again includes the spoken races of the current game or their ancestors; they are a clear part of what was at stake in the sacrifice.

Third, if that doesn't persuade you that Hythlodaeus is talking about lives like yours, consider that you've just spent the last few quests exploring the city full of giant ancient magic people going "wow! you're so small and childlike! what a miniscule living being you are!" When Hythlodaeus gives this speech about "myriad tiny lives," he is a literal enormous giant sitting next to you, a very tiny living being from his perspective.

This sacrifice, which Hythlodaeus explains to you in the DMV, is the crux of the matter and the root of Venat's choice. The time loop, her knowledge of Meteion, the debate over the right solution to the final days—all of that is secondary. She explicitly is unsure up until you meet her in the Aitiascope whether the time loop is stable and real and applies to you.

The essential issue is the fact that the Ancients are supposed to be stewards of the star, and now they are going to engage in mass sacrifice of lives that Venat knows are people like her and her peers (mostly this is thanks to being a humanist who believes in the sanctity and dignity of life but she also has the confirmation of your post-sundering, totally humanlike existence). Just a quarter of the Ancients' original number remain, their society is in tatters, and what's left is in the process of actively betraying every ideal they ever claimed to hold by slaughtering the life they allegedly guide and care for (which they know to be ensouled!) to undo the great and noble sacrifice of their loved ones.

but venat's faction is weak. it's her and like 13 sorta-important people she knows plus maybe some unnamed others. they lack the numbers or the raw ability to make something that can defeat zodiark, and will need instead to lean on venat's abilities.

her morals do not allow her to stand by as the convocation plans a mass sacrifice of "lesser" life. her circumstances do not give her the time or ability to win them over through rhetoric or decisively defeat them with force. nor can she actually destroy zodiark, because then the final days would simply resume. nor, I assume, is she interested in straight up slaughtering what remains of the ancients until the convocation's plan becomes impractical, assuming she is even strong enough to do so with just the twelve and the watcher's ancient selves for backup. there is no longer an option on the table which does not involve great pain. left to choose between unacceptable options, she chooses the one route which seems able to protect the vitality of the world and uphold the ancients' mission of shepherding all life upon the star towards flourishing: the sundering.

#venat #ffxiv #endwalker spoilers #the sundering

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