#delusions to subsist on

[rangedreign]

i've chosen to interpret this as a dorn il khan reference

[squidballsinc]

edit ive writen down my bastardous, bastardous headcannons. please feel free to check em out here:

omg i cant believe after injecting himself with that serum thingy he turned into an etherial and went on a rampage and we only managed to stop him after great difficulty and leveling half the hallow including half of our AND his organs he BARELY survives after like 27 surgeries and even now is like a shambling broken excuse of a human being who's every move is excruciating but whos chronic terminal disease has miraculously disappeared with the caveat of even more extreme side effects of all the OTHER problems left after those 27 or so surgeries barely put him back together but at the very least his hallow navigation abilities have gone up 200% bc turns etherials have a different set of senses compared to basically other living thing (based on the fact that none of them are, technically, alive) and that turning into one actually, you know, has a lasting impact on your own senses perceive the world and therefore the hollows so the upper ups are like "go in and navigate for us" and hes like "okay" bc hero complex despite the few people who care for him in the world vehemently interjecting because this way he can help right? this way he's changing things, saving the world, becoming a hero? right? .right.?

anyways alt vers. under the cut

art study of toilet bound hanako kun by AidaIro, references below

also credit to dragaliareferencearchive's harumasa character references that i used while drawing this, very helpful! ^u^

[darkwood-sleddog]

Happy Indigenous Peoples Day!

This is your reminder that the Alaskan Malamute is NOT an indigenous dog breed. It may have indigenous ancestry but its creation, the standards imposed on it, and every aspect of its direction have been steered by white people from the very beginning. Even it’s name is inaccurate to its ancestry.

There are still Inuit breeding traditional sled dogs today. They are not some mythological people of old. They’re uploading photos their dogs, their hunting, their friends, their communities to social media as you read this.

Inuit dog breeds such as the Canadian Inuit Dog and Greenland Dog share struggles the Alaskan Malamute never has. The Canadian Inuit Dogs were culled en mass in the 1970s by the Canadian government which is still a source of trauma for people today. Knowledge of traditional dog keeping has been so fractured that I know of several young people using YouTube to learn their traditional crafts instead of being taught by people in their communities. The Greenland Dog is perhaps one of the most isolated dog breeds in the world and is extremely vulnerable to changes from Global Warming. As the climate warms it is harder and harder for the dogs and the people that seek to continue their traditional way of life to function as they desire. Much of Greenland subsists on hunting and tourism of their landscape and traditional activities. Climate change will make both more difficult.

Yes, the Alaskan Malamute has had its own struggles, World War II took a massive toll on the breed as it did many others. But we cannot let ourselves be deluded by the false histories and mythologizing pushed by the breed club, the kennel club because at their base they are clubs ruled by the west and the west alone. Our breed went to Antarctica successfully where many breeds did not, but somehow that wasn’t enough for the people in charge. They will flush and turn their heads away when you fact check their made up delusion. They will claim the breed is SO different than the other indigenous freight dogs that they HAD to create a new breed while at the same time saying “wow this breed is ancient!”. Is the 1930s ancient? Why must we sell this lie? Where does it fucking stop.

[thecreaturecodex]

Briarpatch

"Rose" © Sandra Duchiewicz, accessed at her deviantArt here

[It's been a long while since I posted a unique monster intended for the Age of Monsters campaign. And clearly there's still interest--my precis for that campaign, and the article about how the Mythos deities fit into it, are still getting likes.

Briarpatch is a character whose seeds (hah) have been planted in several other entries, such as Dr. Shiny and the Vermilion Mother. My inspirations came from all over the place. The sexy, spooky plant girl art of Sandra Duchiewicz was always something I wanted to incorporate. There's a growing idea in ecological and archeological circles that plants domesticated humans as much as the other way around. And I wanted to make a version of Poison Ivy who is genuinely evil.]

Briarpatch CR 27 NE Plant

This woman is beautiful, but alien, with chlorotic skin like the surface of a diseased leaf, and flower petals in place of hair. A collar of brambles grows from her neck and extends into long, thorny vines. She has piercing yellow eyes and an appraising expression.

The Elder Goddess Shub-Nugganoth has many epithets, but her most famous is “Black Goat with a Thousand Young”. In truth, her spawn number far more than one thousand. The creatures known simply as dark young are the most common of her progeny, but unique individuals are her offspring as well. One of these is Briarpatch, a green woman laden with occult intelligence and a profound disgust for urbanization. It is Briarpatch’s goal to see cities crumble and mortal civilizations reduced to decentralized subsistence farming once more, and she is going to use plants as her tools to achieve this.

Unlike many evil creatures of a druidic nature, Briarpatch does not disdain farming. Far from it; she believes humanity exists to serve plants, and that by distancing themselves from the soil, they have betrayed their roots. As such, she both exalts farming and farmers while simultaneously using domestic plants as weapons. Sometimes this is as elaborate as encouraging farmers to plant crops that will use more water and resources than the environment can support, forcing governments into subsidies and increasingly desperate acts to avoid famine. Sometimes this is as simple as distributing seeds of man-eating plants mixed in with garden plants or birdseed. Briarpatch’s cult includes a number of neutral farm-folk, who see her as salvation to their local communities, even as the nation-states that collect their taxes suffer as a body with a parasite does. Her cult often refers to her as the Pale Lady, especially among outsiders.

Briarpatch’s domain is the Forest of Veils in eastern Ustalav, and she communes and coordinates with the mythos horrors that live there. She is allied with the Vermillion Mother and Diceid as a coven of divinities obsessed with invasive species and reshaping ecosystems. She and the Vermillion Mother have a sexual relationship, and treat Diceid as something like a nephew or son. Briarpatch has an entitled personality and considers herself Shub-Nugganoth’s favorite child. She is convinced that if she does enough to deform society in the Inner Sea region, her mother will favor her with a promotion and transform her into an emissary Great Old One, similar to the relationship between Yog Sothoth and Tamir at’umr. Whether this ambition is achievable or is merely one of the Pale Lady’s delusions is hard to say.

Briarpatch rarely participates directly in combat, but when she does, she is a terror to behold. Due to her occult origins, she has access to a wider array of spells than a typical green man. She uses these to inflict overwhelming euphoria or grotesque physical transformations. Sometimes both simultaneously. If she actually wants to kill, rather than toy with her victims, she combines powerful area of effect spells with her tendrils and thorns. Briarpatch is acutely aware that she can still be slain permanently, and will retreat from a battle that turns against her to recuperate and plan revenge.

Briarpatch CR 27 Variant eruphyte green man XP 3,276,800 NE Medium plant (augmented, shapechanger) Init +16; Senses darkvision 60 ft., greensight 60 ft., lifesense 60 ft, low-light vision, Perception +30, thoughtsense 60 ft.

Defense AC 54, touch 36, flat-footed 41 (+12 Dex, +1 dodge, +13 insight, +12 natural, +6 armor) hp 663 (34d8+510); regeneration 20 (deific or mythic) Fort +34, Ref +23, Will +24 Defensive Abilities wilderness insight; DR 15/epic and slashing; Immune ability damage, ability drain, daze, electricity, petrification, plant traits, stagger; SR 37 Offense Speed 40 ft., climb 40 ft. Melee 2 slams +46 (1d8+21/19–20 plus 1d6 acid and absorb magic), 6 vines +46 (2d6+21 plus grab) Ranged 6 thorns +41 (2d6+21/19-20) Space 5 ft., Reach 5 ft. (30 ft. with vines) Special Attacks absorb magic, constrict (2d6+15), grab (Colossal), thoughtspear (17d8, DC 39) Spell-Like Abilities (CL 26th; concentration +37) Constant—pass without trace, speak with plants At will—plant growth, transport via plants 3/day—summon plants 1/day—awaken Druid Spells Prepared (CL 20th; concentration +33) 9th—antipathy (DC 32), extended control plants (DC 32), foresight, greater siege of trees, rival’s weald (DC 33), telekinetic storm (DC 32) 8th—euphoric tranquility (DC 31), horrid wilting (DC 31), mass cure serious wounds, stormbolts (DC 31), sunburst (DC 31) , vinetrap (DC 31) 7th—quickened cure moderate wounds, heal (DC 30), greater scrying, transmute metal to wood, waves of ecstasy (DC 30), waves of exhaustion 6th—antilife shell, greater dispel magic, green caress (x2, DC 30), mass inflict pain (DC 29), primal regression (DC 29) 5th—baleful polymorph (DC 29), cure critical wounds (DC 28), death ward, quickened ray of enfeeblement (DC 24), synapse overload (DC 28), extended thorn body, wall of thorns 4th—arboreal hammer, command plants (DC 27), confusion (DC 27), dispel magic, explosion of rot (DC 27), freedom of movement, strong jaw 3rd—cure moderate wounds (DC 26), excruciating deformation (DC 27), protection from energy, quench (DC 26), spike growth (DC 26), thorny entanglement (DC 27), vampiric touch 2nd—alter self, barkskin, fog cloud, harvest season, resist energy, warp wood (DC 26), wilderness soldiers 1st—cure light wounds (DC 24), entangle (2, DC 25), faerie fire, longstrider, snowball (x2), touch of the sea 0—create water, detect magic, guidance, light

Statistics Str 44, Dex 35, Con 40, Int 35, Wis 36, Cha 33 Base Atk +25; CMB +42 (+46 grapple, +44 sunder); CMD 85 (87 vs. sunder) Feats Combat Reflexes, Craft Staff, Craft Wondrous Item, Defensive Combat Training, Diehard, Dodge, Endurance, Extend Spell, Greater Spell Penetration, Improved Critical (slam), Improved Initiative, Improved Sunder, Power Attack, Psychic Sensitivity (B), Quicken Spell, Spell Focus (transmutation), Spell Penetration, Stand Still Skills Acrobatics +44 (+48 jumping), Appraise +26, Bluff +40, Climb +54, Disguise +40, Diplomacy +40, Fly +30, Intimidate +43, Knowledge (arcana) +46, Knowledge (geography, history, religion) +41, Knowledge (nature) +46, Linguistics +19, Perception +30, Sense Motive +42, Spellcraft +46, Stealth +44, Survival +42, Swim +35, Use Magic Device +44 Languages Abyssal, Aklo, Common, Daemonic, Druidic, Infernal, Mi-Go, Sylvan, Zern, telepathy 100 ft.; speak with plants SQ bardic knowledge +29, change shape (Colossal or smaller tree [tree shape]), deific, green empathy +45, occult gifts

Ecology Environment any forests Organization unique Treasure staff of heaven and earth, belt of physical perfection +4, headband of mental superiority +4 (Knowledge [arcana], Use Magic Device], amulet of mighty fists +4, wings of flying, bracers of armor +6, ring of the ecclesiarch, ring of mind shielding, rod of empowered spell (normal), deliquescent gloves, 11,000 gp worth of material components and miscellaneous treasure

Special Abilities Absorb Magic (Ex) When Briarpatch strikes a creature with her slam attack, she immediately attempts to absorb one magical effect from the target. Treat this as a targeted dispel magic (CL 20th), with Briarpatch preferring to target effects that prevent his vines’ grapple attempts, like freedom of movement. When Briarpatch absorbs magic in this way, she regains a number of hit points equal to double the level of the spell effect she absorbed. Deific Briarpatch grants divine spells to worshipers. This does not require any specific action on her behalf. Briarpatch grants access to the domains of Evil, Plant, Strength, and Weather and to the subdomains of Decay, Growth, Resolve, and Seasons. Her favored weapon is the sickle. If a druid worshiping Briarpatch chooses to take a domain, the druid must choose the Plant domain, regardless of alignment. Her holy symbol is that of a feminine face made of leaves and rose petals, facing to the left. Green Empathy (Ex) This ability functions as the druid’s wild empathy, save that the green man can only use this ability on plant creatures. A green man’s green empathy check bonus is equal to his HD plus his Charisma modifier (+43 for the typical green man). Occult Gifts (Ex) As the daughter of Shub Nugganoth, Briarpatch has abilities of an occult nature, and blurs the line between plant and aberration. She has the class skills of an aberration, although her total skill ranks are still those of a plant. She gains Psychic Sensitivity as a bonus feat, and adds psychic spells from the Abomination, Pain and Psychedelia psychic disciplines to the list of druid spells she can prepare. Lastly, she gains the benefits of her wilderness insight ability in any environment not subject to a dimensional lock effect, as alien spirits whisper these insights to her as much as natural plant life. In exchange, Briarpatch does not have the green caress aura of a typical green man. Spells Briarpatch can cast spells as a level 20 druid. She does not gain a domain, or other druid abilities such as an animal companion, unless she takes levels in the druid class. Summon Plants (Sp) Three times per day as a swift action, Briarpatch can summon any combination of plant creatures whose total combined CR is 20 or lower. This otherwise works like the summon universal monster rule with a 100% chance of success and counts as a 9th-level spell effect. Thorns (Su) Briarpatch’s thorns are ranged touch attacks with a range increment of 120 feet. A creature damaged by her thorn moves at half speed and can’t take 5-foot steps, fly, or use air walk, either naturally or magically, until the target or another creature pulls out the thorn as a full round action that provokes attacks of opportunity. Thoughtspear (Su) Once per hour as a standard action, Briarpatch can direct a blast of disorienting mental energy at a creature within 120 feet. This attack deals 17d8 points of damage, and the target cannot attempt Knowledge skill checks for 1 minute afterwards. A target that succeeds a DC 39 Will save reduces the damage by half and negates the skill disruption. This is a mind-affecting effect and the save DC is Intelligence based. Vines (Ex) Briarpatch can extend up to six thorny vines from her body to attack foes. These act as primary natural melee attacks that deal bludgeoning and piercing damage and have a reach of 30 feet. Wilderness Insight (Ex) Briarpatch gains an insight bonus to her AC and CMD equal to her Wisdom bonus.

[sepublic]

Speaking of; The Owl House's pitch bible got leaked as well! So while I look for the rest of it, let’s examine some interesting tidbits I found on Proto-Belos, or 'Obron' as he was once known, and William AKA Proto-Hunter!

Can I just say, I'm quite smug to know that Belos resurrecting the Titan as his endgame was always the original plan? I called it from the start! It was also kinda obvious, but c'mon. The Bionicle fan in me was obsessed.

I'm not surprised about the mentions of Pupa, or the name Obron or even the appearance; We've actually seen all of this before! But what does make me curious is the mention of two other councilors... So there's supposed to be a trio? Again, I always bring up the three statue motif in my speculation about the original plans of the show, I wonder if there's any connection there. Would Kikimora have been one of the other councilors, and who would've been the third? And it seems the coven system was always a thing, early on at least.

Yeah, the mention of '500 years' and the connection to William, etc. Even as Obron he was supposed to have been a human witch hunter turned actual witch. Comparing this to the pilot we got, it may not be Obron that the characters are referring to, since he's not the Emperor. But maybe he declared himself Emperor since he was basically the only one in charge by that point.

Makes me wonder if he hates humans under the delusion of 'I hate modern humans'. He hates what humanity has become and he's taking out his anger on modern humans; We also know the main reason he wants Luz in the pilot, to awaken the Titan. I presume Obron preserved William in stasis and hid him away, only for Luz to wake him up earlier than intended. I can imagine the scene/episode where Obron realizes William has been awake and roaming about for a while now...

There's the confirmation that Prince William and Hunter are the same character, or were. As I guessed, his witch-hunting tendencies would've been established early on as a strange gag, a quirk, only to become so much more darkly significant. I wonder if in this draft, Obron's past as a witch hunter also has relevance; Does he think he's 'saving' humanity by using the Titan to conquer both worlds, wiping out the denizens of one? Also him being a feral kid subsisting off of food given to him by friends is such Labyrinth Runners vibes. Was William always going to have his dynamic with Willow, given Luz plays a bigger role in him opening his mind?

Given we had a 'proof of concept' animation leaked a while back, I wonder if that was an even earlier draft to the pitch bible, given William is PRINCE William. Maybe he's meant to be an actual European human, because European bigotry towards witches existed back then I think, even if it wasn't as pronounced. And Obron does bear a resemblance to one of the Proto-Belos designs, though I'm not sure which came first.

…Huh. Would William have been Obron’s nephew or. God. Would he have been his brother. And while William never grew up because magical stasis, Obron did and now sees his brother be the exact same but also change. Man. And William just has to reconcile, when he gets his memories back, the jump from his brother, a kid like him, to Obron. So we still got the desperate attempt to preserve his brother, only for his brother/Hunter to ‘betray’ him.

[astral-herald]

as is our tradition, we must gather round, join hands, and manifest viktor's return.

times are tough, viktor nation. we have been scorned by the purple heart and then the trailer. but we have 3 final chances: another poster reveal, geeked week's sneak preview, and, if all else fails, the final trailer.

viktor nation thrives on delusion. we subsist on misguided hope. but we are eternal. we will win.

[crowbotss]

I forget if I already sent this ask or not but do you have a favorite Transformers dynamic between characters that you wish showed up more often in canon and/or in the fandom?

Hello anon! No, I do not recall getting any asks of the sort before, but thank you for asking nonetheless.

As for your question, I've two dynamics I absolutely crave, in fanon and canon. Number one of all time is my darling little shitstarter lambo twins!

First of all, why is it the case that, ever since the g1 cartoon and the comics, has Sunstreaker been completely left out of most canon transformer media? Sideswipe's popped up a good few times since (Armada, RiD2015, Bay movies), but they always leave Sunny out of it for whatever reason. They're a set and shouldn't be seperated :<

Maybe I'm biased because I'm a twin and a giant Sunstreaker fan, but I really wish hasbro would pick their whole dynamic back up in some mainline property (I don't even care if they're side characters, I'm desperate). They've charmed me ever since I watched the g1 cartoon, and I've always get so disappointed whenever I see Sideswipe somewhere without his brother (they don't even elude to him being somewhere off-screen or anything, he simply doesn't exist!).

As for fanon Sunny and Sides, I'm glad that fandom picks up some slack from all the lack of Sunnys, but I also feel like we could do with more Sunny&Sides-centric fanfics that aren't, ah, incest porn. Also, the commonly-referenced 'twin-bond' is very very interesting, along with their general backstory as gladiators in Kaon like Megatron. Combined with the mild consensus among fans that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are some of the youngest Autobots, I feel like there's just so much you can do with these characters--but unfortunately, since they hardly show up in any official properties anymore, they aren't the most popular subject of fan-content.

EHEM, enough about my favorite condement-colored duo, my second pick for my favorite underrated dynamic is Starscream and Sunstorm.

I would love more of Sunstorm and. . . well, anyone (hasbro has a habit of fridging any gold-colored character that isn't Bumblebee, I assume), but I think his dynamic with Starscream would be the most interesting.

In most continuites he's in, he's a clone of Starscream, but also happens to act nothing like him most of the time (prolly due to a combination of being raised in a tube and subsisting himself primarily on religious delusions). Throw in an 'unwilling cloning experiment' spin on Starscream's part and I feel like we've got the ingredients for the world's most interesting family(ish) dynamic.

For this to even have a chance of coming to pass in canon though, hasbro would have to let Sunstorm out of the basement they locked him in and they'd have to let Starscream get within 100 feet of an interesting character arc, so chances are slim.

Fanon, however. . . the scant few media I can find focusing on Starscream and Sunstorm are always superb, but just like with Sunstreaker, I feel like there's always so little content with Sunstorm in it simply because people forget he exists, which is a shame. I love my strange radioactive catholic son.

Anyways, done rambling! Hope this answered your question fine enough.

Some underrated dynamic honorable mentions: Starscream & Optimus/Orion (In my heart of hearts I cannot let Starop go), Starscream & Prowl (I've read two [count em, two] very good fics with Prowl&Starscream interactions and they haven't left my brain since), and the Aerialbots & Stunticons (more media should focus on the fact that they're all newbuilds, for humor and/or angst purposes).

[committingwarcr1mes]

unpopular opinion, but i really do like viserys iii. as much as i love daenerys, i also just cannot hate him, cause, you know, i understand perfectly both of them. they both are traumatized homeless orphan kids — they just deal with it differently.

just imagine that viserys always had to think how to subsist himself and dany, had to sell their mother's crown in order to have some money, like it probably was the most valuable thing in the world for him. In addition to that he had to think of how get back the iron throne, his legacy, and all these while remembering what was done to his family. he left with nothing, only with a little sister whom he had to take care of. so of course he became cruel, grumpy and paranoid.

he always had to humiliate himself to get food and roof over their heads, people mockingly called him the "beggar king", so maybe he was so harsh, severe and pressing towards dany just to feel authoritative and less pathetic at least for a moment. and of course he could not forgive her their mother's death. i know it wasn't dany's fault that rhaella died, but try to think of it from viserys' position, he left with mother only, and then she passed away cause she gave a birth to daenerys. it's a huge trauma for a kid, for whom mother was probably the only good thing left, and now he lost her too.

viserys was foolish for thinking that people in the 7k are waiting for him, that's true, but maybe this delusion, this selfdeception was the last thing for him to not fall into total despair. he needed some hope to think that there's a future for him and dany, that one day all these horrors will end, that they will return home and their family will be avenged.

i'm not trying to excuse him, i just want to figure out what made him act this way, so you stop think of him as just a dumb crazy villain boy who enjoys abusing his sister.

i feel so sorry for him.

[stationed-radio]

LISTEN OKAY strahmheight is special to me. just because i feel if they had ever met they’d have that sort of dad-and-the-cat-he-said-he-didn’t-want dynamic. i subsist off of alternative universes and a vision. special agent peter strahm and his weird pet stalker/photographer. i think he needs someone who will backtalk him but lightheartedly so he doesn’t automatically go into his default dismissive asshole mode.

NO I SEE THE VISION I GET IT

A lot of Adam fans thrive on alternative delusions me included,,

Strahm is so used to going unopposed and we can see that in the way that he loses his marbles when interrogating Jill or arguing with Hoffman, he's used to being the one in the right like constantly

So for someone has snappy as Adam to be there to combat that is a really interesting dynamic that I would love to see

I was just saying that y'all are thriving only off of vibes alone and honestly I'm kinda here for it

[sephirthoughts]

The Ghost of Shinra Manor 👻

It's still spooky season till after Día de los Muertos so it's not technically late!

summary: It's been two years since the events of Dirge of Cerberus. Cloud visits his hometown, and investigates a rumor of a ghost, haunting Shinra Manor. If you're surprised by who it turns out to be, you are beyond my power to save, comrade.

tags: g-g-g-ghosts!!! sefikura, sephiroth x cloud, sane!sephiroth (sort of), post advent children, post dirge of cerberus, canon timeline, delusions, intermitten amnesia, low drama, enemies to…whatever the hell they have going on

NOTE: i was raised by outdoorsy, log cabin, roughing-it parents and there will be a lot of details about this type of living because that is what i like

warnings: references to death, PTSD, past abuse, etc. all of hojo's greatest hits, mention of animal death in the context of ethical subsistence hunting/fishing, canon-typical violence, technical nudity but i didn't describe anything so you'd have to imagine it yourself which is not on me, pervert

rating: teen and up [for now]

Part 1: Reunion

A big, black, Fenrir model motorcycle roared up the dirt road, leaving clouds of dust in its wake. Its golden-haired rider adjusted his goggles and pulled his black scarf up, over his nose and mouth. It was late spring, which was still mid-winter in the Nibel region, and as he drew nearer to the mountain, the wind grew colder and sharper, till it felt like it was full of tiny, icy needles.

He had a little hunting cabin, up there, that no one else knew about. They knew he went somewhere, it was just that he didn’t specify the location to anyone but Cid and Vincent, who had helped him fix the place up, and were sworn to secrecy.

Why didn’t he tell the others where it was? Why would he? He went there to be alone. To decompress, when the weight of people’s lives got too heavy to carry. When their voices began to cut into his skull like buzz-saws, and he felt the thread of his tolerance strained to the snapping point.

Even for a person with a normal brain and no life-altering trauma, things would have been claustrophobic, in their little house. Marlene and Denzel were underfoot every minute of the day, and their continued presence meant that when Cloud wasn’t out on long deliveries, he and Tifa had to share a bedroom. He couldn’t fall asleep, with another person in the room, though, so they didn’t use it at the same time. He was a night person, anyway. 

She tried to act like she wasn’t hurt by his refusal to share a bed with her, but she was a shit actress. He had attempted to make her feel better by explaining that he didn’t have those kinds of feelings for girls—or for anyone, really—but he could tell she didn’t really believe it. Or that she at least thought of it as something they could work on.

Everyone (except Vincent) thought that. That something was wrong with him, and that he’d get better, if they persevered in telling him so. The way he was didn't make sense to them, therefore it wasn't normal, therefore it was a problem that needed to be solved. Hooray for the neuro-typical majority.

No one ever asked Cloud what he thought. They just told him what he should think, and then made decisions for him. Most of the time, it was easier to just go along with it, especially since he didn’t want everyone to be mad at him. Them being mad at him meant they’d talk to him even more, and use louder voices. He hated that.

He should have insisted on getting his own place, a long time ago. He and Tifa had been playing house from necessity, at first, but there was nothing actually keeping them together, now, aside from habit. Habit and guilt.

Who knew when she started to think of it as a real family. As if she and Cloud were a mother and father, with a couple of kids. As absurd as that was. They were barely more than kids, themselves.

When Cid and Vincent got married, people got even more obnoxious with the hints and "jokes" about when him and Tifa were going to tie the knot. She’d act all embarrassed and explain that their relationship wasn’t like that, but she’d glance at him, with that look in her eyes, when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. 

He sighed, as he rounded a long curve in the road. He knew himself well enough to know that he’d probably wind up giving in and just marry her. Didn’t seem like a very happy ending, for either of them, but who got one of those, these days? 

It did seem like an especially shit deal for her, though. Marry the kid no one liked, from your backwater hometown, live in a shithole two-bedroom over a bar, slinging booze and taking care of two adopted kids, while your asexual husband spends most of his time away, for work. 

Asexuality was a spectrum, though, and Cloud was somewhere near the middle. It just wasn’t the heterosexual middle. He made an earnest effort, once, but he couldn’t get it up for a woman, no matter how hard he tried, and it just wound up being awful and making the girl cry.

Fucked a couple of guys back when he was a trooper, but that was rare. Not that there weren’t plenty of interested troopers and even SOLDIERs, it was just that he had never wanted any of them. What he had really wanted was Sephiroth. 

Cloud was nine years old, when he fell in love with the perfect face, that he saw on television and the recruiting posters, that were always plastered all over every vertical surface, in town. The obsession only grew stronger, as he grew older. 

He joined up as soon as they’d take him, at age fourteen. The training was miserable and grueling, but he gritted his teeth and worked his ass off, keeping his idol firmly in his sights. Whenever the opportunity came up, he applied to the SOLDIER program. For all his diligent efforts, he met with rejection after rejection.

Several years passed, that way, with disappointment weighing ever more heavily on his heart. But just when he was losing hope that he’d ever meet the object of his worship face to face, he was assigned to a mission with the silver soldier himself. Wouldn’t you know it, that mission was to check on the reactor, in his very own hometown. 

They say never to meet your heroes, but the implication is that you’ll be disappointed. Cloud was not disappointed. Sephiroth was everything he had ever imagined, and more. Ten times more beautiful, and a hundred times stronger and faster. His legendary height was one thing to know logically, and another thing entirely to experience in person. He was literally superhuman.

And yet, despite his angelic appearance and godlike strength, he wasn’t arrogant or demanding, at all. He was thoughtful and soft-spoken, and obviously cared for his subordinates. He asked their opinions, and actually listened. Encouraged them, rather than berating them. He even learned and called them by their first names. It was the most humanely Cloud had been treated by any superior, apart from Zack.

Following those two around, on that mission, Cloud fell more hopelessly in love with his silver-haired deity, than ever. He loved Sephiroth with his whole young soul. Right up to the moment he watched that famous blade pierce his mother’s heart. 

Cloud Strife died, that night, as surely as Claudia had, and whatever this thing was, that he had become, was born. This thing capable of killing gods and monsters. This thing that survived years in a mako tank, being tortured by that bastard Hojo. This thing that had absorbed Zack’s memories, and remembered everything but Zack. This thing that hated Sephiroth, with every fiber of its being. Hated him as much as Cloud had loved him.

The sun was low in the sky, behind a blanket of grey clouds, when he finally pulled up to the clearing, where his unassuming cabin was tucked away.

He swung his leg off the saddle, then he winced and clutched his chest. His heart had been aching more and more as he approached Nibelheim. Not in the metaphorical sense, because of the tragedies he’d been through there—it was actual, physical pain.

He wasn’t exactly sure when it started, though, bcause he was so used to pain, it just got shoved to the back of his mind. Which it did again, now. It wasn’t bad enough to incapacitate him, so he ignored it, and unbuckled the leather panniers, which he slung over his shoulder.  

The cabin was locked up tight, just like he left it, with all the traps and wards in place. Not surprising. No one came up this way, anymore, since the reactor shut down.

Fortunately, the cabin didn’t need the reactor, for power. He’d bought an old, Wutaian, nuclear generator, to heat the water and supply electricity, and hooked it up with Cid's help. Thing was expensive as hell, but it was quiet, reliable, and would last literally forever. 

He stepped inside and typed in a code on a wall panel. When the generator hummed to life, he switched the electric lights on, and took a look around. The place was a little dusty, since he hadn’t been there since last summer, but otherwise, everything was just how he left it. 

It was a simple, single-room cabin. Nothing fancy, except he and Cid had redone the insulation and added the electrical wiring. Water came from a dedicated well, deep enough to take advantage of the Nibel region’s unique geothermal situation, and not freeze.  

There was a bed in one corner, with a frame of roughhewn logs, and a cedar trunk at the foot, where the blankets and pillows were stored. The bathroom door and the kitchen were on the other side (just a stove, small refrigerator, a few cabinets, and a sink), and the fireplace was central. In the opposite corner to the bed, there was a steel camp table, with two folding chairs, as if he’d ever have a guest here.

He tossed his panniers on the bed and went right back out to carry in firewood. Supply was getting low. The cupboards were pretty barren, too, but he’d go into town tomorrow to stock up on canned and dry goods. Those were just a supplement to the main source of food, up here, which was hunting.

When he was a kid, hunting was a long and grueling ordeal, with uncertain payoff. Now, augmented by Sephiroth’s cells and whatever else Hojo did to him in that lab, it was as easy as a trip to the grocery store. He left and returned with a brace of rabbits, within half an hour. It was late spring, so they were already nice and fat, too. 

With the ruthless efficiency of a seasoned survival hunter, he skinned, cleaned, and washed them, and set them roasting on the iron spit, over his little hearth. He was out of anything resembling spices, but the meat was good enough roasted, with just a little salt. 

That night, as he lay in bed, that ache in his chest seemed to grow worse, and made him toss and turn restlessly. When he finally drifted off, he dreamed of being impaled on Masamune and lifted into the air. Sephiroth’s green cat-eyes, staring up at him, with that deranged smile on his beautiful face. Black feathers fell like snow all around him.

I will never be a memory…

In the morning, Cloud went into town. Despite the reactor being shut down, Nibelheim was more lively than ever. With no Shinra, there was no one to pay mortgages to, so the residents weren’t eager to leave the homes which now belonged to them, free and clear. Then the WRO came in and added infrastructure, opened a school and clinic, and paid subsidies to local shepherds and artisans and the like, so the little town was actually prospering. 

“Howdy, Mr. Strife!” the round-faced, balding man at the general goods store said cheerfully, when Cloud brought his purchases to the counter. “Been nigh on a year, since I seen ya. Stayin’ a while?”

“Little while,” Cloud answered noncommittally. “How are things, in town? Anything needs looking into, while I’m here?”

The man scratched his chin. “Nothin’ particular. Just the usual rumors, is all. Monsters in the woods. Creepy things goin’ on at the old manor. That kinda thing.”

“Let me guess. The vampire, again?”

“Nah, nah, ain’t heard nothin’ about that fella in a long time. These days, it’s a ghost.”

“Fiends, or something else?”

“Folks are sayin’ it’s the ghost of a woman, with long, white hair. Don’t do nothin’ but wander around inside the manor, wailin’ and moanin’. They say if you go over there, at night, you can hear her, but if she catches ya snoopin’ around, she sucks out your soul.”

Cloud snorted. “Sounds like the usual bullshit.”

“You ain’t kiddin’!” the man laughed. “Folks got too much time and not enough to do, these days, so they get to tellin’ tales. Y’never know what they’ll say, next. Maybe devils or goblins.”

“Well, if it keeps kids away from the manor, the ghost stories are probably for the better. It’s a dangerous place,” Cloud said, taking his full grocery bags. “I’ll be heading over there, tonight, to clear out any monsters that may have got in, over the winter. I’ll be sure to look out for the ghost.”

“Haha, you do that! Have a good one, Mr. Strife!”

Despite his reticence and flat indifference to overtures of friendship, Cloud was rather popular with Nibelheim’s current residents, because whenever he was in town, he’d deal with any local wildlife problems. Even if no one had anything pressing, he always checked Shinra Manor, since the ruins attracted a lot of monsters, and if they started establishing nests, they could pose a real threat to the townsfolk. 

He spent the rest of the day chopping and stacking firewood, fishing using a thundaga materia and a net (which was technically cheating, but he was fishing for food, not sport), and scouting around for signs of dens, near the town. When the sun got low, he strapped on his sword and began the short, two-mile hike to Shinra Manor.

When he emerged from the woods, on the bumpy, neglected dirt road, it was already dark. The hulking ruin of the house loomed like the desiccated corpse of some titanic beast, off in the darkness, behind the bent and rusted iron fence. Cloud kicked the creaking gates open and strode in.

The property was overgrown with brambles and sedge grass, and ugly, grey vines, with huge thorns covered much of the half-collapsed structure. The front doors had long fallen off the hinges, so the entrance was just a yawning, black hole, like the mouth of a tomb. 

Cloud faltered and clutched his chest, as he approached the house, but not for any fear of the supernatural. He’d killed too many supernatural creatures to care about even the biggest and vilest ones. Besides, he knew firsthand that the scariest thing in Shinra Manor had been a living human being, named Hojo. 

It was just that the pain in the area of his heart had gotten steadily worse, on the walk here, and now it was throbbing insistently, aching so badly it was getting hard to ignore it.

What the hell could it be? He’d chopped wood and done other physical labor all day, without noticing it. Why was it getting worse, now, after a relatively light walk? 

He was thinking about this, in mild annoyance, when he heard a noise inside the house. In the blink of an eye, his sword flashed out and he shifted into combat mode, all senses on alert. 

As he stepped inside, the stench of dry-rot hit him in the face, like a wool blanket. He paused and surveyed the area. It was pretty dark, in here, but he had excellent night-vision, so it was more like dim twilight, to him. 

The noise was coming from the upper level, somewhere. A rasping sound, like dry corn husks scraping the walls. Every once in a while, there was a burst of creepy cackling. His lip curled. He knew exactly what that was. 

The main stairwell had collapsed, so he leapt lightly up to the landing on the next level, and stalked down the hall. Around the corner, the doors to all the rooms (which were miraculously intact), were closed tight. The scraping sound was coming from…pretty much all of them. How did those things manage to get into the rooms and shut the doors behind them?

“Dumbshits,” he grumbled, and kicked the first door open. 

Sure enough, a bunch of floating fiends, with markings like stupid jack-o-lantern faces on their balloon-like air-sacs, were bobbing around the room cackling at each other. When the door exploded inward, they shrieked and rushed at Cloud. With a casual swing of his sword, he obliterated all of them at once. 

Their dying howls riled up the ones in the other rooms. Apparently they couldn’t figure out how to get out, though, so they just rasped and thudded around, cackling like idiots. Cloud kicked the next door down and blasted those ones, too. 

He repeated this process, for each room, making his way down the hall, till he reached the room with the secret passage, to the basement levels. There was no noise from this one. He tried the knob. It clicked easily, and the door swung open, with a hollow creak. 

No fiends in here, but the passage to the basement was open. He’d better go down there and clear out anything else, that might be lurking. Monsters loved dark, dank places like that.

Slapping his sword back onto the magnetic holder, he hopped down the black hole, and landed on a stone floor, three full stories below. 

The impact of his boots was still echoing in the stone-walled chamber, when he heard it. A low, eerie moan, that seemed to come from somewhere far off. At the same time, that pain split through his chest like a crack of thunder, making him grab his heart and gasp for breath. 

The moan stretched out into a wail, rising in pitch and wavering, before it dwindled again. The sound sent chills racing up his spine. Things like ghosts and monsters held no terror for him, but this was different. He wouldn’t even call it fear. It was more like…a rush of numinous awe.  

He threw a firaga burst, to light a couple of the torches on the wall, and surveyed the crypt. Vincent’s coffin was gone. The others had been tossed about and smashed to bits. Bones littered the floor.

Step by step, he descended deeper into the basement. Toward that old library. Toward that horrible place, where he was stuck with needles and probes, cut open and sewn back together, had his eyes blinded with chemicals and his lungs filled with burning mako, till his throat was too scorched and raw, to even beg for death.

His stomach churned and cold sweat was beading on his forehead, but he kept going, compelled by that ghastly moaning and the splitting pain in his chest.

He passed through the library, still scattered all over with heaps of old books, smelling heavily of their musty scent. The door was open, on the other side. The moaning had turned into a low whimpering, punctuated with choking sobs. It didn’t sound like a woman’s voice, though.

Drawing his sword again, and clenching his teeth against the agonizing ache in his heart, he stepped into the next chamber, all his hyper-tuned senses on high alert. There were collapsed pillars and scorch marks, and slashes made by huge claws in the stone walls, from their fight with Vincent, in his beast form. 

Along the far wall, were several heavy, steel doors, with locking bars on the outside. The one the noise was coming from was ajar. It wasn’t the lab he’d been confined in. It was on the opposite end of the long chamber—the one with those strange vats, labeled Project-S, which Vincent had taken umbrage to them entering, back then. 

Cloud pushed the door the rest of the way open and scanned the room. In the inky, underground darkness, even his night-vision was pushed to the limits, and he could only see very dimly, but it was enough to spot the source of the noise. 

It was a naked, ash-white, human figure, curled up in the corner of the room, trembling and whimpering. Its pallid body seemed insubstantial, almost transparent at the edges, like it was fading out of reality. That was probably just an illusion, brought on by the heavy darkness.

He used a materia to summon a little ball of light, and as the white glow filled the room, the figure gave a hoarse cry and curled up tighter.

Cloud squinted at it. This must be the ghost, people claimed was haunting the place, but why would they say it was a woman? Its back was to him and its head was down, wrapped up protectively in its arms, but he could see that it was a man, from the broadness and muscularity of the shoulders.

“N—no, please,” the ghost stammered, in a weak half-whisper. “Please, don’t hurt me. I’ll be good. I won’t…I won’t ask about her anymore, I promise. Please.”

“Hey. What’s wrong with you?” Cloud said. 

His own voice startled him, sounding solid and very loud, compared to the feeble murmurs of the ghost, which were muted and distorted, as if Cloud was hearing them through water.

“No, g—go away! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” the thing wailed, as Cloud stepped closer. 

“Will you shut up and listen to me?” Cloud said, keeping the sword trained on the huddled figure. 

The ghost’s piteous pleas cut off abruptly, but it kept trembling and cowering. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Cloud soothed. “Calm down, ok? What are you doing here? Did you get lost?”

Hesitantly, the figure lifted its head. 

Cloud’s heart stopped.

Time seemed to stop.

Long, silver hair hung over the ghastly-white face, and cascaded to the floor, pooling around its bare feet, like water. From between the moon-colored strands, pale-blue eyes peered up at him, with slit, catlike pupils. 

“Who…who are you?”

next chap

ao3

[sshbpodcast]

Character Spotlight: Kes

By Ames

Star Trek: Voyager may have only had Kes on the show for three seasons, but that’s actually a pretty large percentage of her Ocampan life! And in that time, she definitely made her mark. It was just a mark that struggled to hold a candle against the character who swoops in and takes her place (more on that next week!). But we here at A Star to Steer Her By came to really appreciate the short show life of the short-lived character, even if the show rarely gave her much to do.

Kes is one of those nuanced characters (boy, Voyager sure is full of those), who you may not notice unless you’re looking for her. She’s compassionate, curious, and clever, and her eidetic memory really makes sense for someone who needs to grow up licketty split. Was the quick lifespan a good idea or a terrible one? You decide as we compile our Best and Worst Moments for Kes below and listen to our chatter on this week’s podcast episode (jump to timestamp 1:32:15). YOLO!

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best moments

I’ve learned very well. I saw the sunlight. The very first thing we learn about Kes (other than the fact that she’s dating Neelix) is that she’s left the safety of the Ocampan homeworld, a stagnant culture subsisting almost entirely under the eye of the titular “Caretaker.” This young prodigy has greater ambitions though, and she seeks to encounter more of the universe while she’s got the chance, and we give her credit for it!

What crop has sprung from the seed you planted today Immediately after joining the Voyager crew, Kes shows some initiative and starts up an airponic garden to supplement the ship’s rations. It’s only her second episode in “Parallax” and already we start to see her not only as a nurturer and someone who shows compassion to her fellow shipmates, but as someone who can take charge of a task and handle herself.

One lung to give While overall our opinion on the Kes-Neelix relationship is that it’s cringey, the two of them clearly care for each other. So Kes’s offer to donate her lung to Neelix in “Phage” is quite touching. She doesn’t even hesitate in the moment of crisis when the EMH is floundering, and then gets to carry it through when the Vidiians are able to perform the procedure.

He’s your Medical Officer. He’s alive. The EMH may complain and complain that no one gives him the credit he deserves, but Kes has always had his holographic back. We get to benefit from her outside perspective in “Eye of the Needle” when she requests that the crew treat him more nicely. And she also advocates for his existence in “The Swarm” before they risk losing him by restarting his program.

Someone was walking your grave When the show remembers that Kes has telepathic powers, she is frequently at her best. The way she learns whatever the hell was going on in “Persistence of Vision” depicts how she’s learning to master her mental capabilities while also keeping firmly in reality. Everyone else has succumbed to their delusions, and Kes is able to save the day by keeping a cool head.

Get down with the sickness Like how Torres insists the Doctor not take shortcuts in creating his holo-family in “Real Life,” Kes makes sure his Levodian flu is just as unpredictable as normal illnesses in “Tattoo.” How is the Doctor supposed to feel vulnerable if he always has control over his virus? Kes sneakily adds two hours to the ailment to show him how uncomfortable and stressful working while ill can be.

Use the Force, Kes! It was obviously too good to be true when Kes met a batch of hyper-powered, slightly longer-lived Ocampans like Tanis in “Cold Fire” offering to teach her their ways. When their caretaker, Suspiria, is trying to destroy the ship, Kes uses her new abilities back against Tanis in a display of defiance against their corrupted ways because she’d never hurt others willingly.

I don’t know how to say goodbye to Neelix and Tuvok No matter which side of the “Tuvix” debate you fall on, you’ve got to admit Jennifer Lien nails the scene with Janeway in which she breaks down over being caught in the middle of things. Even if you’re pulling for Tuvix to keep existing, you feel for Kes. She’s put into such a devastating position, admitting that while she doesn't want Tuvix to die, she wants Neelix back.

I can’t wait to see if Blaine’s twin brother is the father of Jessica’s baby She may barely be in any of the two-parter “Future’s End,” but Kes might be in the funniest moment. She and Neelix are scrutinizing the televised feeds from Earth in the past, and they immediately get addicted to soap operas. It’s quite a cute little moment. As Kes says, “There's something to be said for non-interactive stories like this, being swept away in the narrative.”

I walk through mindfields Jennifer Lien doesn’t get a ton of episodes to stretch her legs and show her range, especially since Kes herself is typically such a reserved character. So it is a delightful surprise to see what she can do when Kes is possessed by Tieran in “Warlord.” And it’s an even better surprise to see Kes fighting back in her own mind with a ferocity we’ve never seen from her before.

Kes has become unstuck in time Every so often, you get glimpses of just how intelligent Kes is, as Ocampans need to have eidetic memories and amazing deductive reasoning to develop mentally as quickly as they develop physically. So when she’s traveling backwards in time in “Before and After,” Kes is able to put together the out-of-order puzzle and keep from getting winked out of existence.

Something to remember me by Kes’s final episode with us (or really, what should have been her final episode with us, as you’ll see in our next section) sends her character off in a very satisfying way. “The Gift” does a great job completing her arc, as Kes’s mental powers improve off the scales until she uses them to send the ship ten years closer to home. It’s yet another selfless act from the ship’s sweeting.

—

Worst moments

Chekov is finally redeemed Firstly, is the wig we see Kes in for early episodes like “Parallax” worse than the one they put on Walter Koenig when he first joined TOS? We’re willing to give Walter the benefit of the doubt since it was the 60s and wig technology wasn’t where it was in the 90s. So what’s Voyager’s excuse then? Why does Kes look like she’s wearing a lhasa apso on her head?

I saw them burn. Their bodies ashes where they stood. The main complaint I can muster against the Kes character is how criminally underused she is throughout Voyager. The couple of times we lauded her mental powers above are just that: a couple of times. Most of the time, like in “Time and Again” when she senses Janeway’s presence in the other timeline, exactly nothing comes of it and it’s a huge wasted opportunity!

I felt like there was someone in the room with me Another episode where Kes’s telepathic powers could have benefited the story is in “Cathexis” when Tuvok is being possessed by the Komar. The entity sees that she could pose a threat and knocks her unconscious for the whole episode. It feels like such a tease! Remember how Kes has superpowers? Well, we’re not going to actually use them for literally the whole first season.

Then I guess our marriage is over Look, I’m grasping at straws because Kes doesn’t get to do much, let alone bad stuff. So it’s not technically Kes as the Doc’s wife in that weird fakeout scene toward the end of “Projections” – it’s another layer of holodeck malfunction. But I still don’t like it because it’s an unnecessary twist. And when the EMH is back to reality, it’s just as weird that Kes acts like maybe he’s not?

Kes, you’re baby crazy Can we just say all of “Elogium” here and be done with it? No? Ugh. While we can’t blame Kes for experiencing Ocampan heat, we sure can blame her for how she acts during it, hormones or no. And we also can blame the writers for making this forced pregnancy plot a thing in the first place because it turns a huge personal decision into a cringey couple’s squabble.

That green-eyed pus hog called jealousy It’s been said on the podcast so frequently that you’re probably over it that Kes and Neelix would have made better friends than romantic partners. But you love who you love, so who are we to judge? What we can judge is how Kes stayed with Neelix during his jealous, clingy phase, and barely even spoke up in “Twisted” when he basically accused her of being the town pump.

A watched Tuvok never boils As one of a couple episodes that remembers Ocampans have mental powers, “Cold Fire” really gives Kes a lot to do when Tanis and the other space-venturing Ocampans try to teach her their ways. And in the typical Kes fashion of someone who barely has any experience in the world, our girl immediately goes and boils Tuvok’s blood. Slow down, girl!

Help people, hurt them, give life, kill, it’s all the same Even when she’s gotten a [slightly] better handle on her powers later in “Cold Fire,” Kes still plays the innocent as she trusts these rogue Ocampans. Anyone watching the show could tell you right away they are trouble. But this young emancipated woman becomes so obsessed with her newfound powers that she nearly leaves with Tanis and crew, whom she’s only just met!

Caution: No Kes Allowed What on earth, or whatever stupid planet this is, makes Kes think she can wander off from her tour group and go trespass in these people’s sacred temple in “Sacred Ground”? Even though she didn’t know it would knock her into a coma, you’ve got to think someone as respectful as Kes usually is of other people wouldn’t think to go anywhere without asking permission first.

I think we should be possessed by other people Like last week when I included the omission of a scene that we desperately needed for Neelix to not seem like an asshole, we’ve got another scene that never happened for Kes. Kes never actually breaks up with Neelix! Tieran does it while possessing her in “Warlord,” and that guy’s an asshole! So why do we never actually get acknowledgment from the real Kes of what their status is?

Suffering from severe FOMO Kes is indeed back on the market after that nebulous breakup, and she’s already found herself a new boy in “Darkling.” Zahir seems perfectly nice as far as Mikhal Travelers go, but Kes is ready to pack her bags and get whisked away right after meeting this guy! I guess when you live as short as she does, you’ve got to follow your heart. But Kes is too quick to trust cute strangers.

You blame Captain Janeway, but the choice was yours But possibly the worst moment for Kes is whatever the hell happened in “Fury.” The episode feels like a “fuck you” to Jennifer Lien for leaving the show. Instead of the character we loved, the Kes who returns has been rewritten as a bitter, jaded, apathetic husk. And worse, there’s no good reason for it except that she forgot how good she had it on the show- I mean the ship.

—

And we’ve reached the end of our very short Ocampan life, so let’s hope we transcend into energy beings or whatever. Next week, we’re replacing our Ocampan sweeting with the show’s sex symbol, and I don’t mean Sandrine! So keep tuned here for more character spotlights, finish off our watchthrough of Enterprise with us over on SoundCloud or your favorite podcast app, reach out to us with your minds over on Facebook and Twitter, and thank you for changing out that wig!

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Bowen's Daily Meditations by Rev. George Bowen

"When I sit in darkness, the Lord shall be a light unto me." – Micah 7:8

He will, thou prophet of the living God! More happy art thou in this thy strong and well-warranted persuasion than if a tiara of the most effulgent diamonds were set upon thy brow, to light up the chamber of thy darkness. Didst thou always know this? Couldest thou from the beginning look thus serenely along the paths of life, conscious that betide whatever might, thou shouldst enjoy the manifested presence of thy God?

Perhaps not. Perhaps there was a period in thy life when thou hadst indeed a strong conviction of the incomparable desirableness of such an assurance, and hadst a belief in its attainableness, but couldest not possess thyself of the privilege. Without this distinct perception of a present God, thy Saviour, Friend, and Guide, life seemed an odious blank. For this thou wert willing to sacrifice all things, and deem thyself an infinite gainer by the exchange. But how enter this hidden life? By faith, was the answer. But how believe? Oh how immense this difficulty seemed to one accustomed to the death-state of the soul, to unbelief, to the insane vision that perceives everything save Him by whom all things subsist. But he that had given thee so much faith as to perceive the all-surpassing blessedness of a life in which God is throughout consciously intermingled, forsook thee not; and soon enabled thee to open wide the eye of faith, and behold Him gloriously nigh, overpoweringly manifest; enabled thee to take into thy very soul his indestructible promise to abide with thee as thy Helper, Lover, and Satisfier, for ever.

When God gives faith, he gives the opportunity of proving it. He loves the sweet expression of it in confidential words, loves still better the exhibition of it in indubitable acts. "Thou shalt sit in darkness," he says to his trusting servant. But first he leads the believer along some flowery walk, and accustoms him to a high measure of spiritual prosperity. Then suddenly an unexpected tempest gathers about him, and he finds himself in deepest, strangest night. Darkness is come; but it is different in some of its elements from what the believer had contemplated in the day of his declared faith. Yes, designedly different. It was needful that his darkness should be something never anticipated, in order that his faith might have its full proof. The darkness seems to say, " God is not in me, I am sent in wrath. Thy faith is presumption. I am come to banish from thee the promises which thou hast hitherto delighted in ― to dispel the delusive idea of God thy Comforter. Despair is the only thing that harmonizes with me." The shadow thus speaks and frowns. But faith comes nobly out of this conflict. It lets not go its talisman. It seizes the word of God with a compulsory grasp. Immediately the believer is compassed about with light, and looks with an air of complacent triumph at the baffled shadow.

[hiswordsarekisses]

“In life, as I walk through the fields and plains. I stumble upon a single wild flower that has blossomed and sprouted.

A reflection of God's glory on display. It's fills my eyes with unfathomable beauty and majesty. The intricate details and immaculate design. The subtle, pervasive, and distinctive aroma. It's tenacious and unrelinquishing roots. It's rigorous and vigorous stem. And the variegated radiance of its leaves.

Our hearts always seem to be drawn to such an evasive array. It is unimaginable. It was never intentionally seeded nor planted. Yet, here it lies before my eyes. Existing and subsisting.

Predetermined and deliberate.

More than humanity could ever hope for. I can't fathom but to think aloud.

Even Solomon in all of his splendor was not dressed and adored like this dear wild flower. Yet, it did not labor or even spin. Still, here it is. But, am I the only one?

Out of the billions of people that walk this land; am I the only one that has stopped to enjoy such glorious beauty? To be transfixed on such variety and diversity? But before I blink, I see a petal fall.

It's fatal flaw. The reality of what is to come.

The curse of our brokenness.

The sign of its next season.

As my heart drops, it is filled with appreciation. The feared realization. I am the only one to ever witness this distinct flower.

To comprehend and grasp such tranquility. To notice its existence. It's intended and fixed purpose. To know that I will never understand this moment until it has now become a memory.

An echo within my thoughts.

To show me the state of my well-being. My own fragile humanity. My drained and frail spirit.

My delicate life.

But will it ever count?

Will it fulfill its holy purpose? To herald such a triumphant and glorious truth?

To be sent or be spent?

Will my reply be yes to both?

To be ready for either?

Oh how my heart clamps to comfortability and false security.

To chase my own dreams and desires. My redefinition of myself in my selfish pursuits.

My false delusions and distorted realities.

My schemes and plots to achieve such perfection to only discover a misconception.

My heart to remain unsatiable and determined to answer my preposterous plea.

To hide behind my own pride.

To try to create my own story and act like I give You the glory.

My wondering heart always wants to flee. Yet, it conceives utterly absurd lies to me.

Why can my eyes never seem to see?

I do not plan my life.

I didn't will to exist.

The hardships, temptations, and trials.

The waiting, anxiety, and worrying.

The pain and disappointment.

I did not ask for any of this.

Yet, I did. Because I live to die.

But die to live.

I am not much; but I invite others. For all to be gathered.

To witness me dying to my worst enemy. Myself.

So they can see You live.

For me to count a cost. And be indebted to grace.

To run a race to see my Savior's face.

Because of a stained tree and empty burial place.

To be here and gone within a short distinction and variance of time.

To exclaim though You slay me, I will still hope in You.

That if I perish, I perish.

All that matters is it is for Your Gospel and name to be known.

For others to cherish.

My heart just lingers to see the true source; the reflection of that glorious flower.

To see the scarred hands that wove its pattern and outline.

To see you bind the chains of the Pleiades and to loosen the cords of Orion.

To seek You and live.

To know that being close to You was always still too far.

As my heart cries out to be where You are. To perceive such divine love that I fail to assimilate.

To know You.

To know You as you have known me.

To participate in Your sufferings and death.

To know the power of Your resurrection.

To know the depths of your love based off the depth of Your sacrifice.

To know You intimately.

Being greater than all I have ever wanted.

To understand the wondrous mystery. How you do not accept me just as I am; yet you love me despite how I am.

I don't want the knowledge.

I don't want the information.

I do not want the opinions.

I want the truth.

I want to know you more than I know You.

I just want to know You.

Please just let me know You.

To know You as my Father and to be known as Your Son.

Because You are God and I am not.”

~ Soli Deo Gloria

[thana-topsy]

2, 5, 13, and 14 for Harukar for the Skyrim OC Ask Game, please!

"I certainly appreciate all the interest!"

Which cities do they prefer to stay in and why? Which cities to they avoid at all costs?

"I prefer to stay in any city with a vetted contact. When your personal safety hinges on strong allies, all other factors become moot. Falkreath is one that comes to mind. The shade of the tall trees also provides a bit of relief from the sun, which is a pleasant bonus. I tend to avoid Morthal due to nearby Vigilant activity, but I fear my duties will lead me there sooner rather than later. I've heard rumor of vampiric activity that needs to be dealt with."

Would they be able to live off the land if they were lost in the wilds of Skyrim? How skilled are they at foraging and hunting?

"Well, unfortunately, I have a very restrictive diet." He laughs. "Vampires can survive off of animal blood for a short while, which I don't think many know or realize, but it would be akin to subsisting off of broth. It can stave away the feeling of hunger, but you'd still starve to death eventually. Before I was turned, however, I considered myself skilled at living off the land. That was in Hammerfell, however. Skyrim presents an entirely different set of survivalist skills."

Do they believe the old nordic tales about the Dragonborn?

"Old tales from any culture should often be taken with a grain of salt. It is hard to say what has been warped by time and exaggeration. Do I believe that an individual could swallow the soul of a dragon? Perhaps. I have witnessed many strange phenomena in my extended lifetime. At this point I know better than to discount possibility, even in the seemingly impossible. Do I believe that Alduin might return to devour the world? I certainly hope not. Though, perhaps the 'devouring' is something to understand in metaphorical terms. The dawning of a new age, as opposed to a literal end of life. All things that begin must also end."

Who is their mentor? Who do they go to most for lessons?

"Ah, an interesting question. I find myself in the role of mentor more and more these days. I used to lament the fact that I had outlived most of my elders, and I felt that there was no one that I could turn to for wisdom or guidance. But, as it turns out, my greatest teacher has been Sarel, especially when he was very young. His perspective was so unique and thought-provoking. With a single observation he could shatter whatever delusion I'd been clinging to for decades. Not that he isn't still capable of that now that he is grown, but there was something almost mythical about him when he was a child. It's hard to explain."

[dispactke]

from The Underground Railroad, Colson Whitehead:

"Here's one delusion: that we can escape slavery. We can't. Its scars will never fade. When you saw your mother sold off, your father beaten, your sister abused by some boss or master, did you ever think you would sit here today, without chains, without the yoke, among a new family? Everything you ever knew told you that freedom was a trick—yet here you are. Still we run, tracking by the good full moon to sanctuary."

"Who told you the negro deserved a place of refuge? Who told you that you had that right? Every minute of your life's suffering has argued otherwise. By every fact of history, it can't exist. This place must be a delusion, too. Yet here we are."

"And America, too, is a delusion, the grandest one of all. The white race believes—believes with all its heart—that it is their right to take the land. To kill Indians. Make war. Enslave their brothers. This nation shouldn't exist, if there is any justice in the world, for its foundations are murder, theft, and cruelty. Yet here we are."

"The word we. In some ways, the only thing we have in common is the color of our skin. Our ancestors came from all over the African continent. It's quite large. Brother Valentine has the maps of the world in his splendid library, you can look for yourself. They had different ways of subsistence, different customs, spoke a hundred different languages. And that great mixture was brought to America in the holds of slave ships. To the north, the south. Their sons and daughters picked tobacco, cultivated cotton, worked on the largest estates and smallest farms. We are craftsmen and midwives and preachers and peddlers. Black hands built the White House, the seat of our nation's government. The word we. We are not one people but many different people. How can one person speak for this great, beautiful race—which is not one race but many, with a million desires and hopes and wishes for ourselves and our children?"

"For we are Africans in America. Something new in the history of the world, without models for what we will become."

[teapotenuse]

Absolutely hate when you go to a party and the host is like there's gonna be so much food but then you get there and it's just a handful of canapés

Bruh you are so deep in delusion if you think a couple of arancini balls and a mini bruschetta is enough to subsist on