#flee overland

[milolunde]

[weirdosreignhere]

Pre-ROTG fan comic!

I cannot draw hands or Jack’s hair.

Help

The idea is that Mani has been watching Jack and knows what could happen. Jack notices and takes solace in the Moon, unsure of what he’s feeling.

[dathen]

We’re so used to the sexual reading of the entire book of Dracula, which takes the sensuality of the early chapters and jams everything that follows it into the same metaphor no matter how poorly it fits, but I feel the segment we’re approaching works much better with a lens of chronic illness and disease.

Vampire legends are inextricably intertwined with disease. Many of them are said to have been birthed by burying victims of disease too soon, who later seem to rise from the dead. But what’s more is that Stoker and his family have deep-seated trauma over disease: his mother had to flee her hometown at the age of 14 because of a horrific cholera epidemic, and Stoker himself was bedridden as a child from an illness that no one could identify.

Found this quote from Irish Historian Mary McGarry:

Bram as an adult asked his mother to write down her memories of the epidemic for him, and he supplemented this using his own historic research of Sligo’s epidemic. Scratching beneath the surface (of this essay), I found parallels with Dracula. [For instance,] Charlotte says cholera enters port towns having traveled by ship, and can travel overland as a mist—just like Dracula, who infects people with his unknown contagion.

I bring this up because a lot of academic analysis insists that Lucy sleepwalking is proof of her being the Slutty Woman archetype that needs to be punished. This suggested symbolism is hilarious when put next to the text saying she inherited it from her father, but I’d like to suggest a different angle from the lens of disease suggested earlier:

Lucy’s sleepwalking is a condition that predates Dracula but makes her an easy target for him to prey on. Through the lens of disease symbolism, she now is someone with chronic illness or disability who is especially vulnerable to infectious disease. This becomes a cross-section of Stoker’s trauma regarding disease: his own mystery illness and his mother fleeing a plague.

To wind down my rambles with a bit of a soapbox, I feel this adds a very poignant layer to the struggle to keep Lucy alive. The COVID pandemic showed a horrifying level of casual ableism vs disabled and immunodeficient individuals, shrugging off their vulnerability and even their deaths with “well COVID only kills them.” There’s something deeply gratifying at seeing the way everyone around Lucy fights to the bitter end to protect her and refuses to just give her up to Dracula, whether it’s Mina physically chasing him away or the suitor squad pouring their blood into her veins or Van Helsing desperately searching for cures. The vulnerable deserve no less than this. They’re not acceptable casualties.

[magz]

Gaza, Palestine.

"Several people have reportedly been injured and at least 5 killed after parachutes dropping aid over #Gaza failed to open. Video shows the aid falling quickly to the ground, as people gathered to collect desperately needed food and supplies."

March 8, 2024

(Aljazeera English post with video link)

Articles for context:

"Airdropping aid is inefficient—so why is the U.S. doing it anyway?" (NPR)

Article Date: March 4, 2024.

Quote.

[...]

Konyndyk (president of Refugees International): Well, the first thing to understand about airdrops is they are probably the most inefficient possible way to deliver aid. So they're used very, very sparingly and only when there is truly no other way to get aid in. So we would use them if a population was completely physically inaccessible, if they had been cut off by an earthquake or a hurricane or if there was fighting or if they were besieged. So, for example, when Iraqi Yazidis were fleeing the genocidal militia, the ISIL militia that had pushed them out of their town, they fled up Sinjar Mountain. And in 2014, when I was at AID, we organized airdrops by the U.S. military onto Sinjar Mountain to sustain them. Outside of those kind of situations, it's very, very rare. I can't think of one where we've used them in a place that was simultaneously being served by overland access.

Shapiro (interviewer): Can you just explain why it is so inefficient, why it is such a sort of last resort?

Konyndyk: Well, first is cost. It is about - you know, and obviously, every situation is a little different, but ballpark 8 to 10 times as expensive logistically to deliver by air as by overland transport. And the volumes are much smaller. So to put this in perspective, Samantha Power, the administrator of USAID, was in the Middle East last week. And she gave remarks in the West Bank, where she was bemoaning the fact that only about 96 trucks per day, on average, had been getting into Gaza. Well, the three planeloads that the U.S. dropped last week are equivalent to ballpark four to six truckloads. So it really is not a significant additional amount of aid relative to the already hugely inadequate amount that's getting in.

Shapiro: That's staggering, that not only is it eight to 10 times more expensive, but it's the equivalent of four to six truckloads. And the number that President Biden himself has described as wholly insufficient is something like 96 trucks per day.

Konyndyk: Correct.

[...]

"Gaza Authorities Say Accident Involving Airdropped Aid Kills 5" (New York Times)

Article Date: March 8, 2024; Updated March 9, 2024.

Quote.

The authorities in Gaza said at least five Palestinians were killed and several others were wounded on Friday after packages of humanitarian aid that had been airdropped fell on them in Gaza City.

[...]

In the clip, whose date and location were verified by The New York Times, it appears that one parachute failed to open, while multiple packages that were not attached to parachutes plummeted to the ground. In the clip, filmed near Al-Shati Camp, people can be seen running in different directions.

The government media office said in a statement that the packages fell “on the heads” of some people “as a result of landing incorrectly.” The office added that it had previously warned that a similar incident could occur during airdrops and “pose a death threat to the lives” of civilians in Gaza. Noting that some of the aid had landed in the sea or close to the Israeli border, the statement said that airdrop operations were “ineffective and not the best way to deliver aid.”

[...]

U.N. officials, aid groups and experts on humanitarian crises have said the airdrops are insufficient and largely symbolic, given the dire needs of the two million Gazans still trapped in a war zone. They have urged Israel to open up more border crossings and to speed up inspections of the aid shipments.

Airdrops can only deliver a fraction of the food a convoy of trucks can haul, and it is difficult if not impossible to control who takes possession of the goods once they reach the ground, these experts have said.

But dangers posed by failed parachutes and falling pallets of food, water and other aid are also a major risk in airdrop operations.

[...]

[uncle-mojave]

Help!

I was working as a freelancer but the lord that hired my company died in battle and the King who was against us decided to pursue us so we had to flee but access to the sea was blocked so we went overland and came upon an ancient city mostly abandoned but none of the locals know who built it and they think it was giants of the past

[goldenslumbersketchbook]

A ROTG Character Playlist: Mary Overland

The end of a month means a new playlist! Due to the overland witch comic I’ve been doodling Mary a lot lately! This somber and slightly spooky playlist follows a sisters woes as the weight of memories drive her forward into the unknown alone. No matter what happens though, she continues on, not daring to waste a single breath.

Songs featured

1. Just the two of us - Lucy Ellis

2. Two Birds - Regina Spektor

3. Goodbye - Billie Eilish

4. Special Death - Mirah

5. Season of the Witch - Lana Del Ray

6. House of the Rising Sun - Lauren O’Connell

7. Little Bird - The Weepies

8. The Lonely- Christina Perri

9. Candy - The Blasting Company

10. Ready Now - Dodie

11. Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

12. Things to Do - Alex G

13. Ultimately - Khai Dream

14. Safe & Sound - Taylor Swift

15. Safe Travels - Lisa Hannigan

16. Here With Me - d4vd

17. The Bug Collector - Haley Heynderickx

18. Song of the Witches - S.J. Tucker

19. The Fruits - Paris Paloma

20. Flee as a Bird - The Secret Sisters

Don’t have Spotify? Listen on YouTube: Here

[thewatercolours]

Scrapped KQ Scene: "Roadtrip"

Ok, so I've been working on Goblin Graham again, and I was more or less following my outline from 2021, which is not the most coherent thing in the world. (That happens when the story is actually the decision, partway through a challenge, to see if you can force all the prompts to relate to each other.) And honestly, sticking with that original outline is no longer serving the story. Because I realized I had made Graham run away from Daventry while the castle was being besieged. mainly because I want his family to show him lots of love after the whole goblin transformation thing. Also back then I had never shown the Crackers, and I wanted to explore them. But - none of this works character-wise. Graham would die before running away from Daventry in its time of need. He is brave, and ready to fight for his people. He might falter, but not to the point of running off to Llewdor! And by this point, I've shown the Crackers many times. I don't need to shoehorn them in. I do need to do some rethinking to figure out how to keep certain things from the original storyline, because as clunky as Rippling Consequences is, I want it to work, at least technically. The setups are paid off, etc.

I was really grateful to @captmickey for talking this through with me and offering some helpful insights. She suggested that I take the scene where Graham flees and just make it its own thing. I don't think I'm going to reshape it, but I do like some of the things I did with this scene, so I am going to post it as is just for fun. It'll help me move on from the sunk cost and get the story back on track. So here we have it - the non-official, out of character scene where Graham behaves like a coward and runs, but also has bonding time with a bridge troll.

---

Those who have never journeyed overland in the palm of a bridge troll might assume that such a mode of travel saves time. Ordinarily, they would be right. Though trolls are a clumsy, lumbering lot as rule, the gigantic length of their stride makes up for it. Further, trolls never worry about following the twists of the road, or detouring at mountains and rivers. As long as you have no plans to cross the sea, you can more or less travel as the crow flies when you ride with a troll.

But if secrecy is an issue, well, you’re better off overloading a lame donkey with luggage and not watering it the whole way. You will get there faster.

Every day Graham and Olfie got just a bit further north, by way of an awful lot of east and west, and a significant amount of south. They chose secluded routes through the wilderness, giving towns and farms a wide berth. Bridge trolls weren’t unheard of outside of Daventry, but most surrounding nations distrusted them. Graham suggested that the best way to avoid attracting monster-slayers was to keep their heads down, sometimes literally. Olfie crept through the Miser’s Hills on his hands and knees. Graham rode on the bridge, trying to keep his balance. There wasn’t much to hold on to unless he sat by the very edge. That seemed unwise, but he tied himself in place with his cloak. His body lost height each day. The cloak was now about twice as long as he was, giving him lots of material to work with.

“Isn’t that the cape with big ol’ pockets?” his enormous friend asked after the first few hours. “Olfie could tie it to something. You could just ride in one of the pockets.”

But the experiment did not go far. The splint and poultice helped, but getting in and out of pockets proved difficult with Graham’s ankle. Besides, he found it easier to keep it from bending at odd angles if he rested on a flat surface. Once past the Hills, he spent most of his daylight hours in Olfie’s hand. 

He leaned back against the tremendous cupped fingers. and watching Serenia’s hinterlands thicken as they passed. By daylight, his vision blurred and most colours washed out, but the contrast between light and shadow was sharp. The sunshine itself felt glorious on his clammy skin. When night fell, the world came back into focus, alive in luminescent purples and greens. Even under the new moon, he could pick out insects crawling a quarter mile off. 

Scrub gave way to forest. Graham enjoyed trailing his hand on the overstory, much like he used to dip his hand into the water when he tagged along in the rowboat with his sister. Forest gave way to… well, a forest that clearly went to the gym and ate five dozen eggs every day. Massive paleghost trees dwarfed even Olfie, great-trunked and covered with what had to be the world’s thickest moss. Sometimes Graham snatched a leaf or a tree flower as they passed, just to give his overlong fingers something to fiddle with. He’d always been a fidgeter, but his goblin fingers were impossible to satisfy, just for sheer restlessness. 

It did help that he and the troll talked so much.

Roadtripping with Olfie was a revelation. They had always gotten on well, and Graham had never felt he needed to put on a kingly act for him the way so many had needed him to since his crowning. But Graham had never taken him exactly… seriously. He was grateful to him for all the times he has been kind and useful. But, well, he was Olfie.

But with nothing else to do day in and day out, they talked more than they had in the four years since the tournament. Olfie had infinite patience for his too-short tongue and stiff lips. He never once interrupted Graham as he tried to sort out his pronunciation. After the king had offered his fifth or sixth awkward apology for speaking unclearly, the troll had said, “Frankly, Goosie, Olfie doesn’t really notice. All us trolls got some got teeth that go outside our mouth, not in, so learning you tiny people’s words takes a while for us too.” He considered. “Kinda nice you slowed down, actually. Olfie can’t keep up when people talk too fast.”

And oddly, it was kind of nice.  If the path was slow and circuitous, the stories were allowed to be too. At first, they talked little besides choosing which way to go, when to stop and forage, when to bed down for the night. Then Olfie pointed out a ravine with flowers growing up its steep sides, which apparently looked something like the chasm where he had grown up.

“Funny,” said Graham.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen flowers like those in Daventry.”

“Olfie’s not from Daventry. Started out in the lowlands here in Serenia. Kind of far from here, though.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“Yup,” Olfie said, a tad wistfully. “You’re not the only outsider.”

The silence lingered. “When did you come to the kingdom, then?” Graham asked at last.

“I’m not great at keeping track. Maybe fifteen years? Ish?”

“And…” Graham’s ears sank a little despite himself, “you still think of yourself that way after fifteen years? As an outsider?”

“Nah! Livin’ the dream,” said Olfie heartily, stopping to ginger his way over a boggy patch which probably qualified as a whole bog. Then he swallowed. “But kinda.”

“I’m sorry.” Maybe he should have said more, find out if Olfie wanted to talk about it. But Graham wasn’t sure he had the stability himself, even to listen.

“Hey, it’s not the worst thing to be,” said Olfie, with a consoling, toothy grin. “Least you got an outside to go back to sometimes, ‘stead of being stuck inside.” He raised his hand up to his face so he could look Graham in the face. As usual, it was a little overwhelming to be so close to Olfie’s eyes, one of which had passed as his “eye of a hideous beast” entry. But right now ‘hideous’ was very much a relative sliding scale. “‘This is just a guess, but with all this heading north - you’re going back, right? Home?”

Graham nodded, staring down at his lap.. “Yeah. Home.” He hoped so.

“Good idea.”

Graham shrugged. “Maybe.” He could think of a few cynical responses to go on with, but cynicism hadn’t got him and the villagers through the caverns. He took the second option - curiosity. “So, what’s it like to grow up in a troll chasm?”

And so the stories began properly. They compared earliest memories, roared over most embarrassing moments, and traded lighthearted gossip about Daventryfolk. Nothing too recent at first, but one thing bridged another.  By the fourth day, Graham started to haltingly share the story of what had happened after Olfie had left him in the town square that night. Of the aching choices he’d had to make, and of the enchanted cell he’d been thrown into when his first escape attempt failed.

Olfie didn’t have much to offer by way of insights or comfort. But by gum, he listened, listened in a way that was almost better than talking. “And then what happened?” he would say every now and again. 

It was… a lot easier than he’d anticipated telling his story would be. Maybe it was because Olfie wasn’t human either. Or maybe it was just the nature of this strange journey that didn’t quite feel real, this step-by-step rise and fall with no crisis, no escape to plan, no friends to guess how to keep alive, no split second decrees to make, no previous king to live up to. Would the words come so freely when they arrived in Dapplethorpe and everything became real again?  

Even wondering began to make it grow real again too soon.

One night, as the campfire in the clearing burned low and they finished off the last of their hunter-gatherer supper, Olfie cleared his throat. “So, King Goosie,” he said hesitantly. “You were pretty quiet today.”

“I guess so,” said Graham, gathering up the greasy pheasant bones. He could feel that with a little pushing, the day’s new thoughts would come out, and he wasn’t sure it was wise to share them.

Olfie pressed on. “Yeah. It must get a little boring for you. Anything Olfie can do to liven things up?”

Graham dropped the bones into the ashes and began raking them over with the roasting stick. “You’ve been great. Honestly the problem’s all on my end.” He should have stopped there, but something unruly in him went on. “ It can’t exactly be your fault when you’re just following the King’s orders.”

“Gosh.” Olfie raised an eyebrow. “Orders. Makes it sound all official.” He sounded slightly hurt.

The king sighed, trying to backpedal. “Sorry. I’m just a little out of sorts tonight. And I’m also sorry for… for dragging you into this. I can’t imagine this is how you were planning to spend your week.” But here it was again, the urge to pedal forward. “And, and if anyone gives you trouble when you get back for abandoning the siege, I want you to tell them it was on my order. Then they won’t blame you.” (Blast it, he knew where this would lead. Why push it?)

Olfie’s great eyelids narrowed. “You walked all the way to Daventry on that leg. You tried to get in but couldn’t ‘cause of the magic.You found out the goblins and little Manny Man had the place surrounded, and they’d grab you if they saw you, probably. You didn’t exactly just abandon the siege.”

Graham didn’t look up from the ashes. A note of anger he himself didn’t quite understand crept into his voice. “OK, to make it plainer -  I’m pretty much running away. When i said we should try not to be see, I admit I wasn’t thinking as much about monster-slayers as that… my own guards might be following us. To take me back. Because I ran away, like an idiot.”

“You got Baker Man and the rest of the little town people home safe. And you tried -”

He raised his voice further. “I’d been steeling myself to be okay with my friends seeing me as I am. But when my doctor screamed and crawled backward to get away from me, I chickened out. And ran away.”

“But home.”

The roasting stick snapped. “Even worse. Home with my tail between my legs and everything I tried for trailing behind me. Again. Don’t you get it?” The goblin snarl rose to the surface.

Olfie frowned and reached round the firepit with his thumb and forefinger. For a moment Graham thought the troll was going to grab him. But he stopped, and instead laid his hand down on the grass, right next to Graham. “So why are you going home anyway?” he said, lowering his great voice.

Graham didn’t answer. There were several things he could have said, but they all sounded childish. Funny how you could try to verbally whack someone over the head, trying to prove to them how stupid and cowardly and maybe even treacherous you’d been, and yet still have an inner eight-year-old who thought sounding babyish was worse.”I don’t know,” he said at last, the snarl gone. “I had all kinds of half-plans when I first told you we had to go. I thought I might make things worse. Or that there was nothing I could do. I mean, Daventry’s being attacked by goblins. And Manny. And Manny came to my cell while I was transforming, and he stopped me at the door to the surface. And, and I didn’t know what to do either of those times.”

“You kicked him,” Olfie reminded him encouragingly, clenching a fist and smiling.

“Yeah, I kicked him. Big deal. My point is - Daventry’s trying to defend itself right now. Even if they recognized me, they couldn’t trust me. Aren’t you constantly asking yourself what I might do, what I might try, now that I’m a goblin?”

“No?” said Olfie, puzzled.

Graham laughed grimly. “Thanks. But you’re you. Not everyone sees things like you. And even if they did… Look, I still plan to go back and handle this responsibly. Really. But I need to figure out what that would involve.” Olfie began to speak, but Graham cut him off. “I’m sorry I blew up just now. That wasn’t fair to you.”

The troll nodded soberly, and rose to his feet. The ground shook under him and Graham had to dodge a few unsettled sparks from the fire. “Ya know, this clearing’s a little cramped, and Olfie spotted a nice queen-size ditch just the other side of that treeline. Maybe we both could use the space tonight.”

(You know, I'm glad they had that conversation, because it was what alerted me to the fact that this scene felt all wrong. So - now we've had the scrapped scene, I can get on with writing stuff that works better.)

[princessanneftw]

mafuk As part of her four-day tour in Uganda last week in support of several charities, MAF enabled Princess Anne - accompanied by her husband Sir Tim Laurence - to access two refugee camps.

At Nakivale - the oldest refugee camp in Africa - near the Tanzania border, she officially opened Opportunity Bank - the first ever bank in a refugee camp.

At Kyangwali Refugee Camp in western Uganda, she visited a Save the Children’s ‘child-friendly space’ - a refuge for children fleeing conflict.

MAF saved HRH hours of overland travel, which would have otherwise eaten into her busy schedule.

[rhymeswithfart]

Hello hello! Just dropping in to say that your different Sonic SATAM verses are really really cool and your art is lovely! It’s so pretty! ;u;

I’m so interested in these verses now. I was wondering, do you have a story, or a comic, or a post about the lore of them? They’re just so neat I wanna know more! It’s so interesting!

Have a great day! :)

Thanks so much!!! 💖💖💖💖 I'm so glad you like it!

(I actually forget if I made an actual lore post with all the stuff in one place rip) my lore is also pretty disorganized for most stuff, I'm just doin whatever, but here's some of the more fleshed out lore I have.

The reverse aus mostly follow similar storyline points to canon, with diversions due to the characters having different personalities. The satam one is based on that plot point where Robotnik and Snively are the sole survivors of a space colony, while the Archie one is based on the overlander-mobian war thing.

Both Satam and Archie reverse have a bloody war (which Julian served in as a medic before becoming Minister of Medical Science) that ends in The Great Peace, ushered in by Jules Hedgehog. However the "peace" is only in name, as the empire of anti-King Acorn is fraught with oppression and state violence. The lower classes starve while being crushed under Acorn's brutal rule. Julian and Johnny, along with several other revolutionaries, succeed in overthrowing the tyrant, but the kingdom is thrown into turmoil in the process. Princess Alicia, (anti-Sally), takes this opportunity to throw her father into the Zone of Silence with the help of anti-Sonic (this happens later than Robotnik's coup in the canon universe).

The Suppression Squad (anti-FF) is either staging a coup, being mercenaries for whichever forces are fighting for power, or just being general troublemakers at this point. Anti-Sonic hasn't yet become known as Scourge. Julian retires from his position as minister and sets up his clinic. Johnny manages the security and more actively fights against any would-be tyrants/terrorists. He doesn't have the same code against violence as Julian.

As the Suppression Squad gets more violent powerful, and Scourge starts his conquest of Moebius in earnest, Johnny and Julian flee into the Great Forest and create a force-field that makes their encampment invisible to unwanted guests. They take refugees and injured people in.

Here's some of my reverse StC lore. It follows the "Ovi Kintobor was transformed into Doctor Robotnik in an accident" storyline, but it has Kintobor being part of a very suppressive, fascist ideology. Robotnik is the product of Kintobor's repressed kindness and compassion, things that Kintobor would see as weakness and treachery. The badniks (goodniks?) in this au are like ai life support systems and mobility devices for disabled Moebians, as well as protection from danger. They're like mech suits that protect their little buddies.

Reverse Sonic Underground is based on some of my conjecture about the ppl from the Six is a Crowd episode. Robotnik was once the music teacher for the triplets. Anti-Aleena ruled over a society similar to the "Great Peace" I described in Satam/Archie, where the upper classes thrived and the average citizen struggled in poverty. Robotnik was part of the lower class, and suffered from an ailment which he couldn't afford to have looked at (also lived in a dirty-ass apartment with nasty water and mold probably). Despite this, he did genuinely care about the triplets, even being closer to them as a parental figure than their mother. At some point, his illness caused him to develop necrosis in his arms and legs (or something I'm still figuring it out) and he had to have them all amputated, nearly dying in the process. Aleena arranged for him to have cybernetic limbs attached, and moved him out of his deathtrap apartment and into the palace. (that's the backstory and I'm still figuring out how they got to the point in the episode)

[kiastirling-fanfic]

for your warden Fenris au this dadwc, "say it to the dead bodies."

Y'know, I think I found the perfect place for this prompt. Specifically, the very start of the AU. Here's Fenris arriving in Amaranthine.

words: 1019 cw: fantasy racism, violence, gore

@dadrunkwriting

“Drop the sword, slave, and maybe we won’t even whip you.”

The men were ugly in a way that Fenris had come to be very familiar with on his journey south. Bounty hunters or slavers or simple mercenaries, it mattered little to him at this point, they all came from the same source and all came to the same end. From Danarius to the end of Fenris’ sword, or with his fist in their chest if they were especially unlucky, like horrible presents sent by his old master.

They couldn’t be earnest attempts to pull Fenris back, for all that Danarius was putting on a good show of it ever since he’d left Seheron. Chased south and south and south until he’d crossed the Waking Sea and found himself here.

With his fist buried in the seeming leader of the men sent after him, the rest crumpled slabs of meat lying in pools of blood. That was all the proof Fenris needed that Danarius wasn’t trying to bring him back yet, not really; he knew how strong Fenris was, how skilled. The magister trained him, molded him, knew his every inch and secret, better than Fenris himself.

If Danarius actually wanted him back, he wouldn’t hire such pathetic creatures to chase him.

Fenris pulled back his fist and the leader dropped, dead as all the rest of the beasts were. He flicked his wrist, blood spraying off the talons of his gauntlet and walked back to the last man whose corpse was serving to hold his sword upright.

“Halt! Don’t touch the sword, elf!”

Fenris turned. These men were not Danarius, he was fairly certain. Wielding matched swords and shields, wearing middling armor with yellow dyed tabard over the scales, it took Fenris only a moment to recognize them.

“You’re late, guardsmen,” Fenris scoffed and continued towards his sword. “I was assured when I arrived at the port that the local guards could be trusted to protect the people here, but it seems the reputation of your garrison was exaggerated. Or do you frequently allow slavers to wander your city?”

“He’s gone daft. Slavery’s illegal in Ferelden. And even if these louts started a fight, murder’s murder, right boys?” The crowd of guards jeered their agreement, and the hairs on the back of Fenris’ neck stood on end. They weren’t slavers, but they were not good men clearly.

Fenris spared himself the whip by killing the slavers, only to turn his back to the rod, it would seem.

“I wasn’t aware that Ferelden had laws against killing in defense of one’s life.” In point of fact, Fenris knew nearly nothing of law in Ferelden, other than that they didn’t permit slavery or the presence of slavers; it had been a deciding factor in his taking the boat from Ostwick instead of continuing overland to Kirkwall as he’d initially planned, switching roles in their game of cat and mouse. However, a man he’d met as he traveled the Marches assured him that such laws were commonplace in Southern Thedas, and Fenris expected that much to be true.

“Tell that to the dead bodies, elf,” one of the guards snarled. The ruse was dropping. “Hands at your sides.”

The rattle of chains decided the matter. Never again, Fenris had pledged when he made his decision to flee. Had they planned to escort him without manacles, he might have complied, phasing through the cell and departing the city. With them in the mix, he found his spine turned to steal and the lines of lyrium in his skin itched angrily.

There was little difference between these guards and the men Danarius sent, after all. His sword would gut them just the same, his incorporeal fist would phase through their breastplates without effort.

It would be easy.

“Ho there! Guardsmen!” The bright voice cut the atmosphere, and a stout figure in bright blue armor came into view from a nearby alley. A dwarven women, with sunburnt cheeks and golden hair to match the heavy jewelry in her ears. She seemed half the size of the guards, yet with only a bow on her back she seemed more confident in her stride than most magisters. “What seems to be the problem, sers?”

The reaction of the guards to her was night and day, hands snapping away from blades and into a salute. “M-messere! To what do we owe the honor?”

“I was just walking the streets, overseeing my holdings. After all, I’m sure your old arl did the same, didn’t he?” Her face was round and pleasant, but her smile was as sharp as her words. Fenris knew how to catch the rebuke, even as he held back his surprise at a dwarf claiming to be the lord of Amaranthine. Did Ferelden have dwarven lords alongside the human ones? “Appraise me of the situation.”

“It’s nothing to concern yourself with,” the guards leader coughed into his hand. “Only apprehending this ruffian. You can see the damage he’s done.”

“I’ll decide what I’m to be concerned with,” she maintained that sharp smile, devious as any magister of the magisterium. “I see dead men, with serpent crests on their scabbards. Do you know what nation uses a serpent in its heraldry, guardman?”

“I… cannot say that I do, messere.”

“It’s Tevinter, guardsman. And he’s an elf. Please do put two and two together, I’ll wait.”

“That’s- that can’t be true. No slavers would dare step foot in Ferelden, and certainly not so soon after the Blight. You can’t say that these were slavers with such conviction, not when he massacred them so brutally!”

“I can, actually. I’ve met Tevinter slavers, in Denerim in fact, invited by your beloved Arl Howe during the Blight. I’ll not have you telling me what can and cannot happen in my city nor what I can or cannot do about it. But I’ll save you the trouble for now.” She finally turned her gaze away from the guards and her eyes bore directly into Fenris. “You seem quite good in a fight. I’m conscripting you. Welcome to the Grey Wardens, Conscript.”

[kyoswimm]

dunno where else to say it so. Kyo sonic au shit I’ve had rattling in my brain ;

- the eggman was created in a freak lab accident involving a chaos emerald; the radiation created a split personality in ivo robotnik, with the two struggling for control

- Metal sonic (prime) had a “good half” the ivo part installed- a conscience. Much like eggman, Metal sonic was plagued by contradicting directives… until, much like himself, eggman split metal in two

- sonic isn’t the Big Public Hero Number One. While he’s certainly heard of as the fastest thing alive (and Eggman’s archenemy), the freedom fighters get more recognition than him. Sonic doesn’t care but it drives eggman up the wall

- Angel island is still populated by echidnas, their Imperator being Ix. Knuckles fell from his home when he was young, and has been searching for a way back ever since

- the super special sonic search and smash squad is made up of Eggman’s three previous sonic robots; silver sonic, robo sonic, and led by mecha sonic. Though they have loyalties to eggman, they aren’t directly connected to the Eggnet like lesser badniks, only tuned into it like a radio station. It means they, most of the time, are off doing their own thing.

- sir Charles hedgehog takes in the good metal sonic after it flees from eggman, and helps repair him into shard. shard still has his combat functions, but would rather be part of rescue services like firefighters or extraction

- shadow is half-hedgehog, half-black arms. his power is unstable, and has to be held in check by his inhibitor belt. rouge is a former G.U.N. spy, and E-123 Omega is a violent cousin to robotnik’s E-Series robots. they answer to no authority, and help or harm whoever they want (though in the end, they’re ultimately a force of good)

- as I mentioned the e-series were built by robotnik (NOT eggman), and are instead learning robots meant to aid in research and sample gathering. Omega and Beta were both yoinked by eggman to create weapons, but only omega was able to escape his ultimate fate. Beta was robo-lobotomized. Gamma has learned to fight out of necessity, from Amy rose’ cousin Rob. He acts as a sniper instead of a front-liner.

- E-Merl is a lost echidna weapon that’s roamed the world for centuries. Despite being created with the capacity to destroy entire civilizations, E-Merl has a child-like personality and is easily roped into others’ schemes. The deception always ends in broken bones, however.

- G-Merl is an updated Gizoid designed by Shade. Like Gamma, he despises fighting- *unlike* gamma, he refuses to use any offensive weapons altogether. His most dangerous gadget is a taser.

- humans and anthro animals have been in contact for ages. The anthro animals (coined ‘mobians’) first called humans Overlanders, due to first contact being via crashing aircraft.

- the Black Arms are a roaming alien race, facing extinction. all they want is a home, but their way of life can be brutish and distressing. Shadow was created to be an envoy between the two worlds, but something happened to the Black Arms since then; they haven’t returned in 50 years. Shadow remains vigilant

- both shadow and Maria escaped the ark, but Maria’s disease caught up to her on earth. Shadow still holds his final promise to her. Due to being on earth for *much* longer than in canon, he’s come to understand both the good and evil in humanity. His greatest mission is to save the last living robotnik from his own alter ego.

- omega’s pissed all the time because eggman Fucked Up his reprogramming. Omega loves to make noise, be it from explosions or making actual music. He has more of a ‘bad boy’ persona than ‘DESTROY ALL EGGMAN ROBOTS’

- the chaotix are a much larger group, containing the duo of mighty and ray, alongside bomb and heavy. Knuckles is also an honorary member.

- if sonic could choose any adversary to keep personally, it’s the SSSSSS. mostly because they don’t really hate sonic, and their schemes and traps are always fun to evade.

- tails doesn’t know what pronouns are

[onslaughtsixdotcom]

My Wilderness Hexcrawl Rules

This post began life as an attempt to redesign the Ranger for 5e. I'm still going to do that, but it diverted to an explanation of my wilderness hexcrawl procedure, which I don't believe I've ever shared online in full.

I am on record as saying "exploration" is everything the players do that isn't talking to people or fighting monsters, but for the sake of this, we're going to focus on wilderness "exploration" and parts of the game that use that.

So to do that, we need to talk about what this looks like in my game and at my table. All overland travel in a dangerous area is on a 6 mile hex grid, and we engage in the "gritty realism" rest variant when we use it. This means a short rest is 8 hours overnight, and a long rest is every 7 days/short rests or if the party spends 24 hours within the same hex (which also puts them back on "normal" resting; unless, of course, they travel outside that hex again). Again, this is a "dangerous area," which is most of the parts of the world that adventure takes place in. If the players are travelling a long distance that isn't the focus of the adventure (for example, they travel weeks from the city of Dawnharbour to the city of Steelhaven) then that can be handwaved; they're sticking to roads and not worrying about it, because the Adventure is not The Travel.

When the party travels through hexes, we determine their planned route and weather. This determines how many hexes they can go through. The party can travel 24 miles per day through normal terrain, which equals 4 hexes; difficult terrain like swamps, deep forest or mountains may reduce this to 3 or even 2 hexes.

For each hex, the players roll what I call "Advancing d6s." This means they roll, in order: 1d6, 2d6, 3d6, and finally 4d6. This produces several results, between 1-6, 2-12, 3-18 and finally 4-24. This corresponds with this simple table:

The d6 table is landmarks such as burial mounds, obelisks, etc. The d8 table is several encounters that are not necessarily combat related, such as a group of fake adventurers, a Peryton that attempts to capture a player, or a golden Fey steed appearing on the horizon. It also contains an entry called "Character Event," which is a series of encounters built around the PCs. (I'll go more into Character Events in a later post.) The d12 table is larger landmarks and mini-dungeons or lairs, including things like wild magic zones, dead magic zones, etc. Finally I have lists of combat encounters. Embphyrkhaksis is the BBEG of the campaign this particular table is taken from; an adult red dragon who can appear any time all four players roll 6s. (For each encounter with Embphyrkhaksis, I raise the threshold for him to abandon the encounter by 10hp; initially they just had to deal 10 damage to the dragon for him to flee, but after 4 or 5 encounters they need to do 40 or 50 damage for him to leave. Exciting!) I then arrange the encounters we rolled into the best narratively cohesive order, based on my judgement as a DM and my absolute, flawless, omniscient knowledge of what is Actually in the hexes ahead of them; I ignore results that are boring or have been used recently if there is a legitimate feature in a hex that I've previously determined. At a later time, I'll update this post with a formatted PDF of my table so you can alter it and make your own.

When the party spends the night in the wilderness, they need to set up watches. My rules assume a 4 person party using 2 hour watches. (Elves can take 2 watches and still gain the benefits of a short rest.) During a watch, they roll 1d6; on a 6, an encounter happens. The character makes a Perception check to see if they notice the encounter; this is contested against a DC equal to a passive stealth check made by the monster. (If there are multiple monsters, I use the monster with the highest bonus.) If they fail, they are Surprised, which can be really dangerous with 3/4 of the party still sleeping, outside of their armour. If they pass, the party member has the opportunity to wake up the other players and put on their armour. (Realistically, this takes 10 minutes, but the start of the encounter is a little abstracted in this case.)

This is the core of my wilderness overland travel system. It's easy to see, when it's laid out like this, that there are several "hooks" by which the Ranger can key into to make them feel very useful in this style of campaign.

Next time: We fix the Ranger.

[hiccanna-tidbits]

@jackunzel-time

Jackunzel Month Week 2 - Songs Rocks at my Window - Bridgit Mendler

***

Sitting at home I turn on the TV It’s all reality And I don’t wanna watch stupid people Got my phone I check the text between Between you and me ‘Cause I guess you popped into my head and It shouldn't be Friday night Why am I here home alone when

We can run away for the weekend But I’m here alone Wish you’d go throwing rocks at my window We could count the stars from your car hood But I’m here alone Wish you'd go throwing rocks at my window

See it’s been Far too many movies Sinking into me So now I wait for my Prince Charming But I’ve got this picture in my head Of the chapel for our wedding So I guess that I’ve got it bad Just one step at a time Why am I here home alone when

We can run away for the weekend But I’m here alone Wish you’d go throwing rocks at my window We could count the stars from your car hood But I’m here alone Wish you’d go throwing rocks at my window

T-H-R-O-W-I-N-G You’re throwing rocks I wish you were throwing rocks, rocks T-H-R-O-W-I-N-G You’re throwing rocks I wish you were throwing rocks, rocks T-H-R-O-W-I-N-G You’re throwing rocks I wish you were throwing rocks, rocks T-H-R-O-W-I-N-G You’re throwing rocks at my window

We can run away for the weekend But I’m here alone Wish you’d go throwing rocks at my window We could count the stars from your car hood But I’m here alone Wish you’d go throwing rocks at my window

***

Rapunzel lays sprawled on her bed, feet impatiently kicking the comforter. Another Friday night in--but almost never by choice.

Her mother keeps a death grip on all her social activities...a death grip as in she’d kill them off if she could. Hanging out with friends outside of school is forbidden, spending her measly allowance on fast food or amusement parks is forbidden, checking out library books that made moving away just a little too enticing is forbidden.

Basically, anything that demonstrates there’s more to life than being her mother’s pretty little maidservant is off the table.

She checks her phone. Almost 7:00. By now, she’d hoped to be hearing the rattling of pebbles against glass.

Rapunzel’s technically forbidden from hanging out with her friends outside of school, yes. Not that that had ever stopped them before.

At 7:43, she hears a car rumble through her open window. She wonders if Mother’s home early.

Because of course Mother’s allowed to go out on Friday night, hitting up clubs and bars and the like. It’s different when she does it, apparently.

And then comes the sound of her mother’s neat, polished, perfectly-landscaped garden stones hitting her bedroom window. Seconds later, a face framed with messy brown hair is grinning at her from behind her hanging yellow moon-and-star lights.

He’s standing in the branches of a tree a few feet from the house. Rapunzel rolls her eyes.

“I told you to stop climbing that.” Although she shakes her head, she can’t help but smile. “You’re going to fall out and sprain your ankles.”

“Have I ever?” He balances nimbly along a limb, making his way toward her room. She shoots a couple concerned glances at the branch, not much liking the way it creaks beneath him.

Still, she can’t bring herself to be too worried. Jackson Overland’s balance is nothing short of incredible.

“There’s a first time for everything,” she argues anyway.

He smirks. “Yeah, and it’s not today.”

He helps her over the windowsill and onto the branch. She tries not to think about her heart racing when he grabs her hand to steady her, or when he keeps his grip as he guides her toward the trunk.

Dignity discarded, they scurry down the tree like a couple of grimy squirrels and make a dash for Jack’s car. No night to waste before Gothel inevitably stumbles home at 3 am, wasted and potentially furious about her precious flower missing.

They turn onto the highway and drive into the sunset, fleeing the bland, identical streets of suburbia behind. In the distance, downtown lights up, glowing in the growing dusk.

Rapunzel grins, a trickle of excitement running through her. Everything is so much more dynamic in the big city. So much less…stifling. She rolls down the window, taking in the crisp air and the lively chatter and the splashes of autumn color on the tree-lined avenues.

When she first met Jack, she figured all his hours ditching class were spent holed up in his basement, beating some Dark Souls high score. Not so, it turned out. Jack explored the city when he played hooky, chatting people up and making connections in even the most absurd places. He was the champion of knowing a guy, and then that guy knew a guy, and then that guy knew yet another guy.

Tonight she finds out that, because Jack hit it off with some janitor last week, they have exclusive roof access for a 15-story office building.

The city view is breathtaking. A sprinkling of golden yellow windows on gleaming metal, interspersed with the reds and pinks and purples and greens of neon lights.

“It’s amazing,” she murmurs, leaning against the railing. “It’s like you can see the whole world from up here.”

Jack raises his eyebrows. “If you think that’s amazing, wait until I show you a slightly bigger section of urban sprawl. Would that be like…the whole universe, then?”

Rapunzel laughs. “No, no. That’s what you can see from a plane. A larger metropolitan area would be like…a galaxy, at most.”

“It fits. You know, stars and void and all.” He shrugs, gesturing abstractly between lit windows and dark building silhouettes.

She studies him, watching him gaze pensively at the darkening cityscape. For all his pranks and jokes and general tomfoolery, Jack’s thoughts are far deeper and more philosophical than one would initially think.

He’s hardly the shallow doofus he wants people to see him as. Maybe that’s easier—letting people believe he’s nothing but a goofy, fun-loving class clown and not a sensitive, broken teenager tormented by more demons than most.

“You’re so beautiful when you think like that.”

The words come out before she can think better of them.

He turns and gawks at her, dying sunlight giving his chocolatey hair an amber sheen. “Wha--?”

She takes a shaky breath. No turning back now.

“You’re just--you’re really beautiful.”

Although his lean against the building’s railing is casual, there’s an unmistakable challenge written all over his face.

“I am no such thing.”

“Are too!” She scowls defiantly. “You make friends with everyone you meet and get access to some of the most secret, magical spots in the whole city. You’re so smart and you think so deeply and I want to know every part of you. You feel sad and inadequate so much of the time, and you channel it into making people laugh. You’re one of the only people in the world who makes me feel like I’m worth more than how much I can please Mother, and you’re one of the only escapes I get from her. And I think that’s all pretty gorgeous of you.”

For a long time he just stares at her, moth hanging open. Rapunzel blushes.

“Sorry if that was...weird.”

“No, no, not at all." He takes a step toward her. “Just...do you really mean all that?”

“Of course I do.”

An energy hangs in the air between them, tension buzzing like the power lines weaving around the building’s satellite disc. Jack Overland looks ethereal, sunset light glowing off him and city lights reflected in his eyes.

And that's when she decides to hell with it.

Life is short, and she never knows how much time she has until Mother gets home, and it's high time she starts going after what she wants fully and ferociously and unapologetically.

She steps forward and kisses him.

He doesn't know how to react at first, freezing and grunting in surprise. Then he leans into her touch as one of her arms comes up to rest on his chest and the the other loops around the back of his neck.

His arms loop around her legs, and she lets out a delighted laugh as she's lifted off the ground. Jack's always been stronger than he looks, but now it feels euphoric.

Behind them, the sky is a darkening mosaic of pink and purple clouds. An evening chill creeps in, but Rapunzel barely notices it.

All she can feel is Jack.

After what feels like an eternity, he pulls away and grins at her.

“If you’re not too busy, miss.” His voice is a purr in her ear. “I know another place you might like.”

She checks the time. Still a few hours until Mother comes home.

Rapunzel grins back, pressing her forehead against his. “Lead the way, captain.”

“It’ll be my pleasure.” He puts her down with a heavy thump as he says it. “But I’m not carrying you all the way downstairs. I have skinny arms, and they are very tired.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Well, I guess I can find it in me to forgive you.”

***

It’s a whole different world twenty minutes outside the city.

Now they’re sprawled on the hood of Jack's car, listening to crickets in the trees and watching for shooting stars. Rapunzel’s trying to pick out constellations, the night sky suddenly uninhibited by hazy light pollution.

Their fingers are entangled, all pale skin and pink nail polish. Rapunzel doesn’t think she’s ever felt more at peace.

She leans on his shoulder and breathes in his scent, all pine bark and apple cider and ice cream parlors. She wishes she could capture this moment and keep it cupped in her hands, like a firefly glowing through her fingers.

“I don’t want to go home,” she murmurs into his neck. “I know Mother will kill me, but. I’m so sick of bending to her every whim. I wish I could stay with you.”

“Maybe you can.” He turns to her with raised eyebrows. “We could run away, you know. Just for the weekend.”

Rapunzel shakes her head. “Mother would never--”

“It’d be good for her, honestly,” Jack mutters, cutting her off. “Give the woman a good scare, but maybe not make her mad enough to ground you forever. You’ll show up to school on Monday bright and early, prim and proper and ready to jump back into the perfect little image she’s made. But for now? Well...” He grins. “Two days of absolute freedom. No rules, no restrictions, just us driving around and doing whatever the hell we want. A well-deserved break from teen angst. What do you say?”

She smiles cheekily. “Whatever the hell we want?”

“Within reason.”

Rapunzel studies his face, radiant in the starlight. She couldn’t say no to him if she tried.

“You’re on, Overland.”

***

YAAAAAY ANOTHER JACKUNZEL THING THAT TOOK ME AN UNREASONABLY LONG TIME AND VERY MUCH PAST MY BEDTIME! Hahahahahahaha *collapses in exhaustion*

Wow, this Jackunzel month is kind of kicking my ass. In a good way, of course!!! But still!!! TOO many ideas!!! TOO much inspiration!!! Like I only have so much time and was trying to FIX my sleep schedule, WHY!!!

ANYWAYS. This song popped up on a randomly-generated Spotify playlist a few weeks ago, and it had MAJOR Jackunzel vibes, so...here we are! First the song happened. Then the moodboard happened. Then a drabble that was much longer than I planned happened. Starring Brunette Jack because, much like Brunette Rapunzel, he doesn’t get enough love!!! Also I am very much running out of scene white-haired boy pictures to use, god bless </3 I’ve been wanting to use that middle moodboard pic for a long time now, though, so I’m glad I finally got around to it <3

Moodboard pic credits available upon request, as always!

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

22nd May >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Monday, Seventh Week of Eastertide

  or

Saint Rita of Cascia.

Monday, Seventh Week of Eastertide

(Liturgical Colour: White: A(1))

First Reading Acts of the Apostles 19:1-8 The moment Paul laid hands on them the Holy Spirit came down on them.

While Apollos was in Corinth, Paul made his way overland as far as Ephesus, where he found a number of disciples. When he asked, ‘Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?’ they answered, ‘No, we were never even told there was such a thing as a Holy Spirit.’ ‘Then how were you baptised?’ he asked. ‘With John’s baptism’ they replied. ‘John’s baptism’ said Paul ‘was a baptism of repentance; but he insisted that the people should believe in the one who was to come after him – in other words, Jesus.’ When they heard this, they were baptised in the name of the Lord Jesus, and the moment Paul had laid hands on them the Holy Spirit came down on them, and they began to speak with tongues and to prophesy. There were about twelve of these men.

He began by going to the synagogue, where he spoke out boldly and argued persuasively about the kingdom of God. He did this for three months.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 67(68):2-7

R/ Kingdoms of the earth, sing to God. or R/ Alleluia!

Let God arise, let his foes be scattered. Let those who hate him flee before him. As smoke is blown away so will they be blown away; like wax that melts before the fire, so the wicked shall perish at the presence of God.

R/ Kingdoms of the earth, sing to God. or R/ Alleluia!

But the just shall rejoice at the presence of God, they shall exult and dance for joy. O sing to the Lord, make music to his name; rejoice in the Lord, exult at his presence.

R/ Kingdoms of the earth, sing to God. or R/ Alleluia!

Father of the orphan, defender of the widow, such is God in his holy place. God gives the lonely a home to live in; he leads the prisoners forth into freedom.

R/ Kingdoms of the earth, sing to God. or R/ Alleluia!

Gospel Acclamation John 16:28

Alleluia, alleluia! I came from the Father and have come into the world, and now I leave the world to go to the Father. Alleluia!

Or: Colossians 3:1

Alleluia, alleluia! Since you have been brought back to true life with Christ, you must look for the things that are in heaven, where Christ is, sitting at God’s right hand. Alleluia!

Gospel John 16:29-33 Be brave, for I have conquered the world.

His disciples said to Jesus, ‘Now you are speaking plainly and not using metaphors! Now we see that you know everything, and do not have to wait for questions to be put into words; because of this we believe that you came from God.’ Jesus answered them:

‘Do you believe at last? Listen; the time will come – in fact it has come already – when you will be scattered, each going his own way and leaving me alone. And yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me. I have told you all this so that you may find peace in me. In the world you will have trouble, but be brave: I have conquered the world.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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

Saint Rita of Cascia 

(Liturgical Colour: White: A(1))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading Philippians 4:4-9 If there is anything you need, pray for it.

I want you to be happy, always happy in the Lord; I repeat, what I want is your happiness. Let your tolerance be evident to everyone: the Lord is very near.

There is no need to worry; but if there is anything you need, pray for it, asking God for it with prayer and thanksgiving, and that peace of God, which is so much greater than we can understand, will guard your hearts and your thoughts, in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, fill your minds with everything that is true, everything that is noble, everything that is good and pure, everything that we love and honour, and everything that can be thought virtuous or worthy of praise. Keep doing all the things that you learnt from me and have been taught by me and have heard or seen that I do. Then the God of peace will be with you.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 1:1-4,6

R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord.

Happy indeed is the man who follows not the counsel of the wicked; nor lingers in the way of sinners nor sits in the company of scorners, but whose delight is the law of the Lord and who ponders his law day and night.

R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord.

He is like a tree that is planted beside the flowing waters, that yields its fruit in due season and whose leaves shall never fade; and all that he does shall prosper.

R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord.

Not so are the wicked, not so! For they like winnowed chaff shall be driven away by the wind: for the Lord guards the way of the just but the way of the wicked leads to doom.

R/ Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord.

Gospel Acclamation Matthew 5:3

Alleluia, alleluia! How happy are the poor in spirit: theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Alleluia!

Or: Mt5:6

Alleluia, alleluia! Happy those who hunger and thirst for what is right: they shall be satisfied. Alleluia!

Or: Mt5:8

Alleluia, alleluia! Happy the pure in heart: they shall see God. Alleluia!

Or: Mt11:25

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom to mere children. Alleluia!

Or: Mt23:11,12

Alleluia, alleluia! The greatest among you must be your servant, says the Lord: the man who humbles himself will be exalted. Alleluia!

Or: Mt11:28

Alleluia, alleluia! Come to me, all you who labour and are overburdened and I will give you rest, says the Lord. Alleluia!

Or: Lk21:36

Alleluia, alleluia! Stay awake, praying at all times for the strength to stand with confidence before the Son of Man. Alleluia!

Or: Jn8:12

Alleluia, alleluia! I am the light of the world, says the Lord; anyone who follows me will have the light of life. Alleluia!

Or: Jn8:31-32

Alleluia, alleluia! If you make my word your home you will indeed be my disciples, and you will learn the truth, says the Lord. Alleluia!

Or: Jn13:34

Alleluia, alleluia! I give you a new commandment: love one another just as I have loved you, says the Lord. Alleluia!

Or: Jn14:23

Alleluia, alleluia! If anyone loves me he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we shall come to him. Alleluia!

Or: Jn15:4,5

Alleluia, alleluia! Make your home in me, as I make mine in you, says the Lord; whoever remains in me bears fruit in plenty. Alleluia!

Or: Jn15:9,5

Alleluia, alleluia! Remain in my love, says the Lord; whoever remains in me, with me in him, bears fruit in plenty. Alleluia!

Gospel Luke 6:27-38 Love your enemies.

Jesus said to his disciples: ‘I say this to you who are listening: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who treat you badly. To the man who slaps you on one cheek, present the other cheek too; to the man who takes your cloak from you, do not refuse your tunic. Give to everyone who asks you, and do not ask for your property back from the man who robs you. Treat others as you would like them to treat you. If you love those who love you, what thanks can you expect? Even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what thanks can you expect? For even sinners do that much. And if you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what thanks can you expect? Even sinners lend to sinners to get back the same amount. Instead, love your enemies and do good, and lend without any hope of return. You will have a great reward, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.

‘Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate. Do not judge, and you will not be judged yourselves; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned yourselves; grant pardon, and you will be pardoned. Give, and there will be gifts for you: a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap; because the amount you measure out is the amount you will be given back.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[awkwardpariah]

--Timeline--

Fortress Florida Falls: After a year of blockades, limited air strikes, and supply drops to partisans and loyalist units behind the lines, Federal forces finally launch the combined air, land, and amphibious invasion of Florida. No state had a higher concentration of NDF troops or better equipment. Casualties on both sides were high, and the MAGA government was able to exfiltrate itself from Palm Beach before Federal troops reached the provisional capital of the pretender government.

Winter 2029-2030: Nothing is more deadly than logistics, and during the Winter of 2029-30 more people died from fuel and food shortages than any other cause. In the highly contested Midwest fuel supplies had dried up and overland transportation had evaporated, leaving people behind the lines without food and heat during the Polar Vortex of '29. Those that didn't flee stayed behind thinking they'd live comfortably on generators and canned goods left behind by their panicky neighbors. Power plants died within the first few weeks, and generators ran out of gas not long after. Food supplies in the contested zones lasted only until January, by which point temperatures in Ohio had dropped to as low as -90 degrees F with the windchill. People were burning garbage to stay warm, eating dogs, cats, and rodents to stave off starvation. Most people who died froze to death in the night, others froze trying to flee on foot, and the few that were left were too cold and too sick to last much beyond that. Both sides attempted to keep the region supplied between the Continental Air Lift by the Dems, and rail and truck supplies by the Reps, but after a month of losing troops to frostbite and small skirmishes, the Dems pulled back to the I-80 corridor. The Reps continued probing attacks and roadside bombs along I-80 for much of the winter, but by February most of their troops had withdrawn over the Ohio River into Kentucky. So when the snow melted in Spring 2030, and the 1st Army began its long awaited march into Southern Ohio, all they found miles and miles of abandoned suburbs full of rat gnawed corpses

The War Against Humanity: By spring 2030, US troops from Army Group West began pushing into West Texas, while the 1st Army continued its advance into the South. Everywhere they went, they found evidence of crimes against humanity by the MAGA regime. Slavery, not pre-war prison labor, but the brutal system of the antebellum South had returned. The first to be manacled were existing prisoners, however the hyper punitive laws of the MAGA regime quickly grew the ranks of the incarcerated to virtually anyone who spoke out against their regime. Ethnic minorities were particularly targeted by the NDF and thus made up the bulk of the slave population. An entire market had emerged for the trading of prison labor contracts between agricultural and manufacturing corporations, and while the elites took people as servants and sex slaves. Then there were the death camps. First discovered late in 2029, the extent of the program was now impossible to deny. Dozens of camps had been found, built out of existing prisons. Troops would usually uncover these places by the stench of human remains in uncovered mass graves, their guards having fled to avoid capture. The locals tended to deny outright that they knew about the camps, or in many cases were totally unrepentant about "doing the Lord's work.

Midterm Elections: By Election Day 2030, the war has been dragging on for a year and a half and another winter is approaching with food and fuel rationing, albeit less severe than last year. Needless to say, a lot of voters are well and truly sick of a war that has only brought suffering on a level unseen in American history. The National Union Party exploits this by running a slew of candidates that oppose the Democrats' wartime rationing policies, demanding AOC re-open the oil wells in the Gulf of Mexico and ANWR, and even negotiate with the MAGA regime to bring the war to a peaceful conclusion. Most voters don't buy into this, especially in newly liberated Ohio, Indiana, Florida, Louisiana, North Carolina, and Georgia, and military voters hearts have only hardened against the MAGA regime. But in otherwise well-to-do parts of the country that are unused to the hardships imposed by the war effort, the National Union party's message resonates. Ultimately, the Democrats still hold super majorities in both houses, with the House majority particularly impressive thanks to the repeal of the Permanent Apportionment Act earlier in the year.

Crisis in Canada: 16 million American DPs have turned Ontario into a madhouse. Every resource and essential service was stretched well past its breaking point, and Prime Minister Poilievre's ineffective response resulted in his removal in a vote of no-confidence. Melissa Lantsman fails to form a government, and the Governor General refuses to call for an election with the country in crisis. Despite their pleas for the US to intervene and get their citizens under control so Canada can focus on fighting their own white nationalist insurrection in Alberta, the US can't pull troops from its own front lines. Instead, the US calls on the European members of NATO to intervene, pulling what few US troops are left in Europe to join as a symbolic gesture of solidarity. The International Counteraction Force or ICFOR, more commonly known as Icy Force, deploys to Ontario providing additional security and giving Canada the means to start organizing the deportation of the American refugees to the Eastern Green Zone.

D-Day on the Mississippi: After 2 years of reorganization and rearmament, 2 years of fighting to retake the Midwest and much of the South, Army Group East is finally ready to begin the long awaited Drive Across the Plains. On August 1, 2031 a quarter million troops launch a combined amphibious and air mobile assault on Iowa, Missouri and Arkansas while ground forces in South Texas push north. Canadian troops and Army Group West begin their own advance from British Columbia and West Texas. After a month more than a million troops have landed on the western side of the Mississippi. Casualties are high on both sides, but the NDF's last best troops are simply outnumbered, outmatched, and undersupplied, especially after the Great Fire of 2030 devastated their food supplies. Repairs to bridges will take many more months, but Federal troops can finally begin moving across the Great Plains, eventually uniting the country from Sea to Shining Sea once more.

The End of All Things: As Federal troops move across the plains in armor and with air support the NDF is being chipped away with each passing day. After years of inaction and now repeated defeats, its simply too much for most NDF soldiers, leading to a string of mutinies. Meanwhile MAGA leaders, seeing that defeat is now immanent begin to try to flee or take their own lives in a campaign of uncoordinated mass suicide unseen since the fall of Nazi Germany. As the MAGA government in their new provisional capital of Rapid City tries to determine a course of action, Trump Jr. and the comatose Trump Sr., along with much of their extended family attempt to flee by plane over Canada to a non-extradition country. They're intercepted by NATO F-35s over Nova Scotia and remanded to Federal custody. The capture of Trump and the flight of Trump Jr. demoralizes most of the remaining die hard MAGA supporters, leading to a wave of surrenders. This leaves only the Secessionist factions of the rebel government in Rapid City, and they vote to dissolve the united front and fight their own secessionist campaigns.

<-Part II  \ Part III \ Part IV ->

[scotianostra]

On 28th June 1746 Flora MacDonald and Prince Charles Edward Stuart "The Young Pretender"  set sail from Benbecula to Skye.

One of the most romanticized events in Scottish history, please ignore the pictures,  shortbreid-tin romantic-pish. The first two, with the occupants of the boat adorned with tartan, and one with a saltire flying- Come on, they would be as well having a sign saying “Jacobites aboard”. The third pic by 19th century Scottish artist  John Faed is more likely how they would have looked. 

After the defeat at Culloden the Prince was forced to flee for his life. After two months on the run he arrived at the island of South Uist where he met 24-year-old Flora. As both her step-father and her fiancée Allan MacDonald were in the Hanoverian army of King George II, she would have seemed an unlikely ally. However after some initial hesitation, she agreed to help the Prince escape.

She managed to get permission from her step-father, the commander of the local militia, to travel from Uist to the mainland, accompanied by two servants and a crew of six boatmen. They didn’t sail to the mainland though, instead landing in Kilmuir at what is today called Rudha Phrionnsa (Prince’s Point).

After hiding overnight in a cottage, they made their way overland to Portree where the Prince was able to get a boat to the island of Raasay and from there, passage back to France. Charles is said to have presented Flora with a locket containing his portrait. They never met again. Charles died in Rome on 31 January 1788.

You can read Flora’s account of the whole story at the link below

http://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/education/resources/jacobite-1745/flora-macdonald/