#for legal reasons and for the sake of my immortal soul this is

[simmyfrobby]

― to: judas iscariot, thérèse naccarato.

Hockey Poetry Post 20/?

(Media: The Kiss of Judas by Giotto, Adam Glanzman, Kiss of Judas by the Master Trecentesco of Sacro Specol, photo credit nowhere to be found but here is the link)

Inspired by this video. Judas/Brad & Jesus/Bergy rant can be found here.

[a-non-ymouswriter]

Naturally, I am Very Interested in hearing literally anything about Remix. But aside from that, the titles of "God's Most Faithful Hater" and "My Son is the Final Boss" are very intriguing!

The later because I read that Webtoon (among many others); the former because I love Tommy angst /and/ religious themes in this fandom can be really fun. There's no telling what direction any given person will go for DSMP gods and thus no telling what new (to me) ideas they might have that I could fall completely in love with.

...And after looking up what CYMK is, I think I'm legally obligated to be curious about "Wandering The Border". Dimension hopping my beloved.

I hope that's not too many? I have so much fun with your stories, it's hard to cut it down from "all of them, please!"

i very much understand, there's a reason why i listed only those when i have a few more dusting away on my shelf lmao. BUT LET'S GET INTO THESE THREE!!

gonna cut this bc it's long

God's Most Faithful Hater - A DSMP Fantasy AU Summary -> Tommy Innit is the most devout, religious, faithful follower Ranboo has ever met. It's hard to believe at first, but everyday without fail, Tommy would pray to XD, hold the silver and green x-cross necklace (the symbol of his religion and his god's crest) whenever he got angry or anxious, and would reprimand Tubbo if he ever jokingly swore by XD or Prime's name.

Ranboo thinks it's nice that Tommy was so faithful to his god, it wasn't for him personally but hey, everyone had something they put their faith into.

Only he finds out that his initial thoughts to be very much, untrue. Well, Tommy is faithful. But he has no love for XD and his religion, no.

He has nothing but contempt and hatred for the malicious God that sunk its divinity into his very soul.

Details and Thoughts -> basically xd cursed tommy to be 'faithful' and be his unwilling follower.

i got this inspiration from Tanya the Evil, both the anime and manga. for those who don't know, it's about a man reincarnated as a little girl in fantasy imperial germany during world war 1 because he was agnostic and 'god' decides that the man needs to be faithful and believe in god. it's a cool anime, i suggest you pick it up.

but i only took 'forced to be religious' from the anime and applied it AND angst to tommy in this au. the more original side of it is that tommy is unwillingly immortal and constantly haunted and 'put to the test' by xd.

those tests are very dangerous, and the only way to get out of them? pray to xd, praise xd and such to save him, the unworthy and unwilling.

of course sometimes tommy can pass those 'tests' or other situations without praying to xd, but as time passes, tommy just ends up praying to xd. mostly after his past adopted family nearly died because he didnt pray to xd. that past family? sbi ofc but thats for later down the line.

the shot would be focused in ranboo's pov in the first part. how he and the others are friends with tommy and talking about how surprisingly religious tommy was. unknowing that tommy kept praying every day for their sake, and to stave off xd's malicious actions.

make no mistake, tho tommy prays and praises xd outwardly, he still fucking hates the damn god. and his internal prayers always, always has him damning xd. which both amuses and annoys said god, but somehow tommy's prayers are at least genuine and stuff, enough that he has to keep his word and not fuck shit up for tommy.

i'd say more but, we need to get to the others lmao.

My Son is the Final Boss - DSMP AU Wilbur-centric Summary-> None Yet

Details and Thoughts -> so this one is very unfinished and was back when techno was alive actually. around then i was reading a webtoon called My Daughter's the Final Boss or something- basically it was about a dad whose daughter, as told by title, became the final boss of a world-ending apocalypse.

it starts w the dad having to confront the daughter that he had abandoned in the past, who grew up terribly and abused and turned into an apocalyptic event boss. The Final Boss. and in that confrontation he...

turns his back on his allies and tries to protect his daughter from them. dying as a result.

but of course, the webtoon continues and the dad is time traveled back to BEFORE he sent his daughter away (he had issues and shit and was an asshole really) so he decides that he was gonna prevent every bad thing that happened to him, his daughter, prevent the death of his daughter's mother, etc etc

so yeah basically that, but with wilbur and fundy. i think i was reading a lot of fundy angst and sbi angst when i thought of it while reading.

i might revisit this shot again, but morph it bc im trying to catch up with QSMP and i love tallulah. and recently read a fic of fundy and tallulah being twins and i just love that. wilbur gets to be angsty over TWO children lol but no promises it's only an idea that hasn't even flourished

Wandering the Border - CMYK AU Dimension Hopping Summary -> Yeah this one doesn't have a summary either sorry

Details and Thoughts -> it says so on the tin; dimension hopping cmyk! EXCEPT

all four of them are dimension hopping separately and are constantly meeting each other... in the wrong order. in different spanning dimensions, and each of them hop dimensions in differing ways.

for example:

T̸̢̧̞̯̠̖̱͖̙͚͎̈́͒̅͑̇̋͐̃͒h̷͙̻̖̞̾̇̂̎̊̀̈̌̏͝ě̶͖̖͂̔͗̿̌̒͗̔̚s̷̛̫͙̤̯̬͕̺͂̐̊̓̐͒̂̕͠e̶̻̓̍̀͋͘û̶̲̾̊͒s̸͓̉͊̇̃̆͛̀͘͝͝ aka Tommy Innit- Chaos Demon currently cursed with dimension hopping because he pranked his dimension's Chaos Demoness Goddess Drista. He cannot stay in one dimension long, pain will overtake his body if he stays for more than a week, sometimes more than a few days or even hours. It's randomized whether or not he can stay or withstand the pain of staying. He is the 'youngest' and 'latest' of the friend group.

Experiment T-U88-Oasis aka Tubbo - A test tube experiment genius, actually the youngest (he's only been alive for 5 years, 3 of them dimension hopping) but technically the oldest in terms of dimension hopping? He always seems to be the one ahead of the curve, meeting others and referencing meet ups that haven't happened yet for the others. Rare instances of other others meeting a younger him that is so unlike the chaotic, hyper Tubbo that they know of. He stole an unfinished experimental device that lets him dimension hop, he keeps fiddling with it, which makes him hop dimensions- or well, it sometimes short circuits on its own and he's gone.

Lethe aka Ranboo - Initially from a superhero universe, Ranboo's powers were mostly about teleportation. Short range, sometimes long range if he could focus and had the stamina for it. He and his superhero mentor ended up busting a villain lair who was messing with powers. Something happened, Ranboo's powers got MAJORLY messed up and he ended up hopping dimensions and losing his memories. He didn't even know his name was Ranboo or his actual superhero name- Tubbo named him Lethe the first time they met, even gave him his trademarked memory journal. Ranboo's powers are unstable, each use has him forgetting all over again, but slowly, over time he doesn't forget. Slowly though.

Purpled - He's a regular teen and mercenary. He does odd jobs, REALLY odd jobs and somehow he's in every dimension all three of them have been to? Second 'eldest' to the group, he's been at this almost as long as Tubbo has. They have no idea how he's dimension hopping and Purpled refuses to answer it straight, not even Tubbo knows how he's going at it and technically he's the oldest! Purpled's the one with the most mystery, he's 'normal'. Fully human with no powers whatsoever, just pure martial skill, however from his travels that he somehow goes on, he has the most stuff. Weapons, items, etc.

so yeah, dimension hopping cmyk :) again i could go on but this has gone long enough.

maybe ask me again if you'd like to know more. or more about the other shots that are dusting away on my shelves. it was really fun talking about this stuff :DD

[reddish-green-personality]

Just to make things clear, the motive of me asking you these is merely to seek your perspective, because I have always been an ardent beleiver that the soul lives on.

And well, I love you answer even if I don't fully agree, I smiled while reading it. If I came off as argumentative, it really wasn't my intention.

..

Conscience leads to redemption, but it doesn't prevent bad things from happening, even if it's something we're all blessed with.

Justice like you said isin’t something supernatural its not an entity of its own, it doesn't exist without its perpetrators.

Its simply the act getting what you deserve, but in this world despite the the extensive and complex legislative systems, not everyone recieves justice. There are many reasons, but probably the most prominent are the countless social power hierarchies that we have created. We have created an imperfect system where those at the receiving end of Injustice cant simply "punch back" there are factors that hold people back, no one will consciously let Injustice happen to them.

If justice was something that happened on its own, or was something that could be handled by imperfect creations (aka us)

rapists, murderers, radicalists would all get what they deserve in this world, but more than often they don't.

So no, people who aren't privileged enough and are at the receiving end of the Injustice cant simply make peace with imperfect systems.

I agree when you say, that once you are kicked out there is no reason to care about this world, because this world will perish, after death you are all alone with the consequences of what you did in this world.

If you tilt the narrative, if the person who committed the crime does beleive if afterlife (irrespective of its existence) he dies with regret and fear, he doesn't know what lies ahead but whatever does he would have to repay, he dies in pain which may or may not compare to the pain that he induced.

However, if the person who was at the receiving end of the Injustice dies with the knowledge that justice will finally be served, and not with a frown but peace that he will finally be freed of the pain that he endured, and this has nothing to do with the one who wronged him, this is between this person and the universe.

These beleives can obviously co-exist, its about what we find comfort in, for someone who spent their entire life collecting riches, will fear death either because all his life's earning will be lost, or because it doesn't matter in the life that lies after. This is why historically rich people are obsessed with the idea of longevity and immortality in this world.

For me, death is not the end of life, but simply a part of it.

Oh absolutely, and ive been loving all the asks regarding this. really challenges my ways of thinking, and thats what i live for. arguments are totally not the intention here, just some friendly banter

..

bad things will happen, and if you believe in ‘prevention is better than cure’, fixing concience of people who do the bad things before the bad things are done, is ideal

This whole ‘banter’ is slowly slipping into the talks about legislative systems, and i cant comment anything on that for i do agree that it is terrible, and improper judgement is regularly passed

i 100% agree with you about the improper judgment given very often, and no reprecussions for those. and i absolutely do not ask anyone to make peace with imperfect justice systems

but i ask only to make peace with the injustice, if there is nothing you can do about it other than praying for a place of Hell

If someone does believe in afterlife, and Hell, then they shouldnt commit the crime in the first place right ?

what i come to realize is that you, would like some one who got away with legal reprecussions, to die with the idea that they may be punished in the after life,

but you cannot impart your ideologies into someone, just for the sake of them dying scared

if you want them punished, punish them. I absolutely cannot agree with the fact that you go to a dying old man’s house, to tell them that the 7 rings of hell are waitng for him to be punished in.

you can pray for it on your own tho

IT IS NOT ONLY THE RICH WHO WANT TO LIVE LONGER. EVERYONE FEARS DYING, EVERYONE WANTS TO LIVE LONGER. THATS WHY MEDICATION EXISTS.

when you say theres an afterlife, do you believe in rebirth, or a place of heaven and hell ?

either ways, i hear your way of thinking, and i respect it. if you want someone to die in fear, feel free to want, but if you seek that out, i think its inhumane

injustice is very bad, but theres a reason why death penalty is the highest offence. dying is bad enough. i wouldnt want anyone to die wiht not only the fear of whats beyond, but also the knowledge that the beyond is hell

[blacklister214]

Illusions: (Chapter 5) The Offer

L.A. 1983

Caleb stood in the stage wing, listening to the applause thundering from the ballroom. Usually this was the best part of the night for Caleb. Soaking in adulation. Being praised to the skies. At the moment though he couldn’t muster the slightest bit of enthusiasm. He knew very well the source of his ennui.

Performing in the park, even for a minute, had been a high Caleb hadn’t felt in quite some time. There were over a hundred ghosts here tonight, and yet somehow it didn’t come close to the two dozen lifers he’d mesmerized that afternoon. The energy just wasn’t the same.

Caleb marched up the stairs. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew that to keep drawing more ghosts to the hotel he needed to work the room. Convince tonight’s guests to bring friends to the next performance. That was how they’d grown their audience from five spirits to the crowd they’d pulled in this evening. Unfortunately his heart just wasn’t in it tonight. The others would have to carry on without him. Delilah would be irate, but then what else was new?

Caleb stopped in his tracks when he reached the green room. A large man with a thick black beard was sitting on the couch, flipping through what appeared to be an old magazine. Caleb was taken aback to see himself posed dramatically on the cover.

“Who are you and what are you doing back here?” Was this rather imposing individual a fan? Caleb had the vaguish sense of recognition, but he couldn’t quite place the face.

“To answer your first question: I am the man who now owns this hotel. As to your second question: I was waiting for you. I confess I presumed I would have to wait longer. You seem like a man who enjoys a good party.” Caleb felt sure he’d misheard. Probably staring into the man’s intense dark eyes had momentary confused him. Or maybe the slight Russian accent had thrown him.

“You own this hotel?” That was impossible. This man was clearly a ghost. Not only could he see Caleb, but he’d gotten to the green room without being noticed. A man this size could not have snuck past anyone.

“Yes, the legal documents are right there if you do not believe me.” Caleb grabbed the papers off the table. They certainly looked official, not that he would have known if they weren’t. In life Caleb’s lawyer had handled these sorts of things.

“Ghosts can’t own hotels.” Buying buildings took money and bank accounts, even Caleb knew that much. Both things were hard to come by without a pulse. The man, however, shrugged as if it were of little matter.

“They can if they have lifers in their employ and the savvy to make the most out of the gifts death has granted us. It is remarkable the fortune one can amass, merely by spying on certain bankers, wall street day traders, and CEOs. But I did not come here to bore you with drawn out stories of my business empire. I am here to offer you the opportunity to become part of it.”

Caleb blinked. That was a surprising offer. He wasn’t sure who this man was, but if he thought Caleb would be caught dead in a business office, he had another think coming.

“I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place. I couldn’t imagine a more boring fate than spying on hedge fund managers for eternity.”  The man didn’t seem at all perturbed by Caleb’s denial. In fact he cracked a small smile.

“You misunderstand me. I would never dream of asking a man of your talents to waste his time skulking around boardrooms. What I had in mind was you becoming my partner in running this club.” If Caleb had had a beating heart, he was certain that offer would have made it stop.

“Club?” The giant’s smile grew another half an inch. Caleb silently cursed himself. He was being too obvious with his interest.

“Yes. The Hollywood Ghost Club. We will close this section off from the main hotel, leaving only one clandestine entrance for the VIP lifers.” Caleb’s head was spinning. It was every fantasy he’d had since returning to the land of the living. But that was impossible.

“Lifers? I thought you said it was going to be a Ghost Club.” A ghost club Caleb could understand. A more polished version of what Caleb was running now.

“Only in that it will be run and staffed by ghosts. The audience, though, will be lifers of the highest caliber who will pay handsomely for the privilege of watching you perform.” Caleb’s stomach dropped in disappointment. He should have known it was too good to be true.

“Except they won’t be able to see me or the band. You do recall the little issue of us being invisible to them?” Caleb was probably being more sarcastic than was wise, but he didn’t care. He didn’t like being teased with his dream and then having it yanked away.

“You did not seem to have any trouble being seen this afternoon.” For a long moment Caleb had no words. How did this man know about the park? Caleb hadn’t even told Delilah yet. He suddenly felt uneasy. Had this stranger been spying on him?

“That was a fluke. I don’t know how it happened.” There was no way he was mentioning Alex. He had no idea who this man was or if his stated intentions were genuine. Caleb was dead, and thus relatively safe from harm, but the boy wasn’t.

The man cocked his head to the side and Caleb had the strangest sensation he had just been tested. Whether he’d passed or failed in the stranger’s estimation was anyone’s guess.

“Mr. Covington, do not be coy. We both are aware it had to do with the child. Alex, is it not? A fine name for a boy, I think.” Caleb didn’t have blood, but he could swear he felt it drain from his face. Was that a threat? If the behemoth even considered harming Alex, Caleb would find a way to destroy him.

“What exactly are you suggesting? That I kidnap a four-year old from his bed every night so he can play with me at the club?” Caleb scrutinized the man closely, watching for any hint of ill intent. He saw none. The giant stayed in his seat, posture relaxed as he shook his large head.

“No. The opposite, in fact. One of the conditions of you accepting this deal would be your ending your association with the child.” The gears turning in Caleb’s mind ground to a halt. Whatever direction he’d assume the conversation would take, it hadn’t been that.

“Excuse me?” End his association with Alex? That was...unthinkable. He felt like hitting the stranger for even suggesting it. Odd because he wasn’t generally a man given to violent impulses. Well...except where Greg Mercer was concerned, but given enough time with the man most everyone would feel that way.

“Do not worry, you do not need the child to be seen. Your connection allowed you to reveal a power that was already within you. The ability is rare, but the energy required to use it can be acquired in other ways.” Caleb was simultaneously intrigued and offended. Yes, he was desperate to learn how to be visible to lifers, but the statement seemed to imply that’s all Alex was to him.

“That’s not the only reason I spend time with Alex.” Caleb would never be so dishonest as to claim the abilities that came with the relationship weren’t a draw, but there was so much more to it than that. Alex filled a hole Caleb had never realized he’d had in him.

Once again he felt the man appraising him. Staring into his eyes as if to discover the secrets of Caleb’s soul. After a moment the giant nodded.

“You are genuinely fond of the boy. I can empathize. It is natural in circumstances like yours, but for your sake, as well as his, you must sever that connection as soon as possible.” That gave Caleb pause. The man’s tone seemed sympathetic, though Caleb was quite aware of how easy that was to fake.

“Why?” What harm could possibly be done to either of them? Alex strengthened Caleb, he was sure of it. He brought him peace and joy. And hadn’t Caleb improved the child’s life as well? Hadn’t he prevented Alex’s father from grinding his son down? Hadn’t he arranged for the boy to pursue his own passions? Hadn’t he taught Alex about music and more importantly about self-confidence?

“What do you know about ‘unfinished business’?” Caleb frowned, unsure where this was heading.

“I’m told the reason ghosts don’t ‘cross over’ when they die is that there is something they left undone in their lifetimes. If they complete whatever task they need to, then they vanish, to whatever awaits them on the other side.” Caleb suppressed a shudder. Crossing over was something he had absolutely no interest in. Even if his parents had been wrong and hellfire wasn’t waiting for him, what was the best he could hope for? It wasn’t like he had anyone potentially waiting for him. Anyone he missed and wanted to be reunited with. What else could heaven hold for him? Wings? A harp? An eternity of serenity? Caleb would pass on that fate, thank you very much.

“Precisely. I do not know what your unfinished business may be, but I can tell you with certainty it is connected to your Alex. The more time you spend with him, the more you risk your existence. Even if that weren’t a concern, you do understand the boy is a lifer. He will eventually die and at present you have no way of ensuring he will return as a ghost.”

Caleb felt his throat close up. The man was right. Alex would die. That shouldn’t be news to Caleb. Intellectually he must have known it, and yet he had never considered it. Alex was so young and Caleb hadn’t really spent much time pondering his own immortality.

Ghosts were uncommon. The small number he’d found in LA told him that. He could be grieving Alex for millennia. Suddenly Caleb remembered something the man said and latched onto it like a drowning man to a buoy.

“At present?” What did that mean? Was it possible to ensure Alex would return as a ghost when he died?

“I can teach you how to bind his soul to yours so that when he does pass on, he will be tethered to you, here in this plane. In the end you’ll have everything you want.”

Caleb thought he’d been tempted before, but now he understood the expression ‘I’d give my right arm for _________.’ A club of his own. A live audience. Alex with him forever.

But he would have to leave him. Leave Alex. He’d miss everything. Watching Alex grow from boy to man. Caleb would be unable to celebrate his successes with him. He  would be barred from consoling Alex through his hardships. He’d have to look in Alex’s tearful face and tell him he wasn’t ever coming back.

“I can’t. I can’t just abandon him. It would break his heart.” No. He couldn’t do that. Nothing was worth that.

“What if I told you I could take that pain from him? Lock the memories of you away in his mind. Let him live a normal life. He would not have to grieve you, and when the time is right you could open that box and be joyfully reunited.”

Caleb tried to think rationally, but it was difficult with the pain emanating from his chest. Alex forgetting Caleb would hurt Caleb deeply, but would it hurt Alex? You can’t miss what you’d don’t remember. And loath as Caleb was to admit it, the man wasn’t wrong about a ‘normal life.’

Typically Caleb scoffed at the term ‘normal’, but he was aware it was what most people wanted. By staying in Alex’s life, Caleb would be denying the boy any hope of that. If the incident at the park was any indication it was already creating tension between Alex and his peers. It would only get worse as the boy got older. Forcing Alex to keep a secret of this magnitude would eat at him. The cookie incident was proof of that fact.

He couldn’t decide. He needed time to think. Time to determine if the offer was even genuine.

“Why me? I’m sure there have been other performers over the years who would have leapt at this offer.” How many people had they asked before him? Why had they turned it down? What had happened to them after they did?

“Los Angeles has seen many talented ghosts, but you have more than just talent. You also have intelligence, ambition, and power. It is a rare combination. We have been looking to establish a club here in Hollywood for some time, but we needed someone special to run it.”

Caleb pondered that ringing endorsement for a moment. How much was true and how much was the man blowing smoke up his ass? Intelligence and ambition? In less than a year Caleb had managed to lay the foundation for a ghost business. His was the only such place in town. Objectively he had to admit that spoke to his drive. Power? He’d discovered for himself his abilities were unusual, especially for a ghost as young as he was. The club only worked if lifers were able to watch the performances. If the man was to be believed Caleb had the ability to make that happen. Perhaps the man was being sincere after all.  

“Are there other Ghost Clubs?” The way the man spoke suggested he’d struck this arrangement at least once before. Los Angeles was relatively young in comparison to other cities around the world. Surely some of them had to have established clubs already in place.

“Rome. Paris. London, Madrid. Moscow. Berlin. Buenos Aires. Tokyo. Hong Kong. Cairo. Athens. The list goes on. Ghost Club performers routinely swap venues. You can travel the world. Be worshipped by fans from every major country.” It was funny he hadn’t even considered travelling since rematerializing in LA. Now that it was offered to him though, it was an extremely tempting prospect. There had to be a catch. Things that were too good to be true usually were.

“You said there was more than one condition. What were the others?” The big man motioned Caleb to sit opposite him. He’d never stood when Caleb had entered and had let Caleb have the physical high ground up until this moment. Was that deliberate? Allowing Caleb to feel more secure? In control of the situation? This though, suggested they had entered a new phase. The business deal.

“The second is very simple. If you come across any exceptionally powerful spirits, you contact us. We are always on the lookout for new talent.” Caleb nodded once. The request made sense. It wasn’t like there were ghost Help Wanted ads. Some kind of headhunting model would be the only way a ghost organization could find suitable personnel. Caleb himself must have reported by someone, and now he was being offered the opportunity of an afterlife.  

“What else?” There had to be more to it than simply picking up the phone from time to time.

“The third condition is that you will take responsibility for the ghosts of Los Angeles.” Caleb was not thrilled with the sound of that.

“In what respect?” Was he supposed to be some kind of undead mayor? Hear grievances. Mitigate petty squabbles? Where was he supposed to find the time, not to mention the patience, if he was running the club?

The man steepled his fingered and fixed Caleb with a penetrating stare. He tried not to be intimidated, but it was unsettling.

“It is crucial to the survival of all ghosts that we remain urban legends. Myths. Stories the world at large scoffs at. We can not afford to become a widely acknowledged reality.” Caleb raised his eyebrows. That didn’t jibe with what he’d already been told.

“You said the guests of the club would be lifers.” If they didn’t know the performers were ghosts, then why would they pay such extravagant fees?

“Select lifers, yes, but we have ways of ensuring their silence. The public at large can not gain proof that we are as real as they are. It would be a disaster. History has proven time and time again that whenever two groups come into contact with one another it only ends one way. War. Sometimes even extinction of one of the sides.” Caleb couldn’t argue with that thinking. Hating the other was something humanity always seemed to excel at.

“What would I be expected to do?” Hopefully the man had the means to enforce this code, because nothing in Caleb’s current repertoire would be much good subduing another ghost.

“Deal with any ghosts who threatens to expose us. How will be up to your discretion as long as the issue is contained. There are skills I will teach you to bring recalcitrant spirits to heel. No one minds a little innocent haunting. A light switch flickering. The car horn beeping. But things on a larger scale, for insistence on your little performance today, would need to be curtailed.”  

That gave Caleb pause. It hadn’t crossed his mind that he’d already broken the man’s policy. Twice actually if you counted his possession of Greg Mercer. He pondered mentioning that incident, then decided against. If the man didn’t know, Caleb wasn’t going to risk the deal by telling him.

“Anything else?” The third condition would be a hassle, but considering what he would be getting in return, it was worth the price.

“One last thing. We would need to establish a soul link.” That sounded very new age, but Caleb suspected it was not.

“What is that?” The giant leaned forward, somehow sensing Caleb’s reluctance despite his poker face. Perhaps this was the least attractive condition for the other potential club owners as well. Undoubtedly it was why he saved it for last.

“It is an energy channel. I put my mark on you and I have the ability to tap into your energy reserves if necessary. You, in turn, will establish your own links with less powerful spirits and be able to siphon some of their energy.” Caleb suddenly had an image of the symbol that had appeared on Alex’s head when Caleb had kissed him. Had he already forged one of these ‘soul links’? His stamina had increased since that day. Was that as a result of his constant practicing, or had he been unintentionally stealing energy from Alex?

“Do they hurt?” Alex hadn’t experienced any pain, if anything he’d seemed comforted by it.

“They can be uncomfortable when they are first laid. Beyond that, it is about intention. The kind I will establish with you and that you will make with your fellow performers will be unnoticeable most of the time. It’s only when you draw on an extreme amount of energy that those with your mark will feel any effects. This is why it is important to have as many soul links as possible. The more ghosts, the less power each has to contribute.”

That made sense. Alex usually became sleepy after Caleb performed tricks for him, but Caleb had just assumed it was because he was a young growing boy who needed naps.

“But there are other kinds of links?” The ‘intention’ comment hadn’t escaped Caleb. Caleb’s intention had been benevolent when he’d kissed Alex, ergo his mark shouldn’t harm the boy. That was comforting. What wasn’t comforting was the implication that marks could hurt ghosts.

“It is possible to lay marks that will drain a spirit’s energy completely.” Completely? What did that mean?

“What happens to those spirits?” What happened when a ghost’s energy reached zero?

“They are completely absorbed by the mark-layer.” Dead. That’s what the man was saying. Ghosts could kill each other. Perfect. So much for his earthly cares being over.

“Sounds a bit like ghost cannibalism.” The giant nodded, as if conceding the point.

“I suppose it does. However, there are dangerous spirits in the world and sometimes extreme measures are necessary to deal with them.” Caleb finally understood. Not only was he potentially going to one day face spirits that could end his existence, he was expected to be ready and willing to do the same to them.

“I see.” Caleb couldn’t help but feel doubt. Before this had been a hard decision, but now it was an impossible one. Caleb had no idea if he could hold up his end of the deal if he accepted. He was many things, but a killer? He just didn’t know.

“I’m sure this is very overwhelming, but think about what you’ll be getting out of this bargain. Your own club, designed exactly to your specifications. A suite in this hotel all to yourself where no lifer or ghost will ever trespass. The opportunity to perform before packs houses around the globe. The chance to one day spend an eternity with your Alex. Not to mention the opportunity to learn tricks like this.”

The man waved his hand and suddenly Caleb’s wardrobe had completely changed. Gone was his magician’s garb, which after wearing it for most of the year, even Caleb was a bit tired of. Instead he found himself in a very familiar looking black suit. It wasn’t contemporary, but from Caleb’s time. There was even a pocket watch. He looked down at the magazine on the table. Of course. He’d worn this suit in the photo shoot.

The giant wasn’t done. Another wave of his hand and two brandy glasses appear on the table. Caleb blinked. That was new. Moving an existing object was one thing but conjuring drinks and, dare he hope, food was quite another.

“May I?” Caleb nodded at the glasses. He’d eaten and drunk nothing since his death. The need wasn’t there anymore, but the longing was.

“Of course.” The man picked his own glass and raised it. Caleb followed suit. “Do smerti!”

They clicked their drinks and Caleb sipped. It was exactly as he remembered. The taste. The warm feeling spreading through his limbs. Incredible.

“What did that toast mean?” He was fairly certain it was Russian, but beyond that he had no clue.

“‘To death.’ Typically my people toasted to heath, but in our cases, ‘death’ seemed more appropriate. What do you say Mr. Covington? Will you accept my deal?”

It was a lot, everything he’d learned in the last few minutes. Everything he’d been offered. He appreciated how the man had answered all his questions. He’d been as upfront about the drawbacks as he had the incentives.

“I’d say it’s an offer I can’t refuse.”  Perhaps if he were another type of man he’d walk away from this opportunity. Be satisfied with what he had, and accept its limitations. Caleb, however, was not that type of man and never had been. He’d risk anything if it meant he could have everything.

“Excellent.” The man extended his hand to Caleb and after only a moment’s pause Caleb took it. The moment his hand made contact, he felt a brief burning sensation on his wrist. When he pulled back to look, he saw a dark red circle and within the circle what seemed to be an upside down capital L followed by an uppercase P. Odd. After a few seconds it sunk into his wrist and disappeared. Caleb rubbed the spot, the pain fading as quickly as it had come.

“It just occurred to me. We’ve just established this ‘soul link’ and I don’t even know your name.” The man grinned wider than he had at any other point in the conversation. Caleb suddenly had the unnerving impression that it was less of a smile, and more of a wolf baring its teeth.

“Grigori. Gregori Yefimovich Rasputin.”

[upperstories]

I made some notes for my Beetlelands Role Swap AU!

Lawrence Shoggoth

Age: 25

Gender: Intersex, trans masculine

Sexuality: Pan

Physical Appearance: dark brown scraggly hair, 5’2”, slightly overweight, strong chin, chubby cheeks, slight overbite, patchy facial hair, resting face has a look of perpetual anxiety, dark circles under his hazel-green eyes from insomnia. Usually found in unkempt business wear or a hoodie and sweatpants.

Lydia’s “deadbeat” cousin who works odd jobs while waiting for his “big break in showbiz” which will never come.

Juilliard Graduate, knee-deep in student loan debt

Has a history of drug abuse, mostly marijuana and LSD, but tries to kick his habit for the sake of being emotionally supportive to his cousin. Still smokes and drinks socially [excessively when in a depressive slump or when he has trouble sleeping]

Emily was his aunt and they were very close when he was little. She was a better maternal figure to Lawrence than her sister Juno. So close that Emily practically adopted him in all ways aside legally, giving Lawrence their spare bedroom.

Lawrence immediately took a shine to Lydia when she was born and was like a big brother to her. There are lots of pictures of Lawrence holding baby Lydia and making scary faces at her while she giggles.

Had a big goth/punk/MCR phase, bleached and dyed his hair often. Preferred green or purple. Charles never understood why, but Emily would help him bleach it, and was there for his first piercings and tattoo.

Was a vocalist for a screamo alternative garage band for a few years. His stage name was Betelgeuse, but his band mates always spelled it like “Beetlejuice” to mess with him.

Took Lydia to her first pride when his was 20 and she was 14. She came out as Bi and Ace to him and was so shocked at his immediate, unshakable acceptance that she cried.

He‘d come out as masculine to the Deetz when Lydia was very young. Lydia didn’t quite understand it at the time, but later on she overheard Aunt Juno screaming at her son, calling him lots of weird words like hermaphrodite, claiming she wouldn’t pay for “Lauren’s” surgery. She walked in on the whole scene and told Juno to leave Lawrence alone, hugging his leg until her parents awkwardly escorted Juno out.

A big turning point in his life was when Emily passed away after he turned 21. Lydia clung to him during the entire funeral. He’d been close to flunking out of school at the time, but he pushed himself to graduate, got 2 parttime jobs, and helped Charles support Lydia while they were all spiraling.

After losing parttime job after parttime job due to various reasons which might-have-been-Lawrence’s fault, eventually becomes an amateur freelance exorcist to try and make ends meet. Lots of superstitious people in New England, lots of haunted houses. It goes pretty well for a while.

He knows ghosts and ghouls are all mumbo jumbo, but it gives him a chance to put his acting degree to good use, and he does a decent job of at least putting on a big show for clients. And it’s pays well in cash!

He lets Lydia tag along because she becomes fixated on the macabre and morbid after Emily’s passing. She helps keep him grounded/from getting too carried away with his ghostbusters act, and he helps her follow her fixation with death in a marginally healthy manner. She might treat him like she thinks he’s a dumbass, but he’s the only family member he can really trust and talk to about dead mom. Since Charles won’t.

Adam and Barbara Maitland

Age: Unknown

Gender: None

Sexuality: Endless

[Meta]Physical Appearance: Pale white skin with purple bruises under their sunken in eyes. Adam wears glasses with one broken lens, a green plaid over shirt, khaki pants and a leather work belt where he keeps his tools. Barbara wears a matching sundress and leather gloves. They have visible striped horns and black hair with an odd oil-puddle-like rainbow sheen, and their hair seems to float strangely, as if underwater. Their boots look strangely wet, but don’t track mud or water anywhere. Aside from appearing dead and demonic, they otherwise give off a 50s-esque timeless “smiling couple on a Wisconsin postcard” vibe.

Kicked out of hell for being too “friendly”. They’re outwardly a very sweet couple, which in and of itself is a major annoyance to other denizens of the netherworld, but otherwise can get a little too..... handsy, if left unchecked.

They’re not all that different personality-wise than their canon counterparts. Adam still likes wood working and renovation. Barbara loves being married to him and is the more adventurous of the two.

But. Well. With Millenia of being trapped as immortal souls in an endless void of unfeeling nothingness, they’ve become a little more OPEN with their relationship. A little more desperate to Feel Things.

After being kicked out of hell for excessive politeness and loving, they try to commandeer an abandoned house in order to make it their permanent home. Living people feel more love that dead ones, so it’s sort of a win-win for them.

They don’t enjoy scaring potential house buyers and paranormal investigators away, but they are Very Good At It [think movie Barb and Adam].

[piermanwalter]

Thief’s Apprentice: Civil Servant Triumvirate

What does it take to keep a city of immortal skeleton wizards functioning? These revenants are the antithesis of the bros: a semi-legitimate politician who won’t fall for petty scams, another large sealed container, and a guy who breaks into houses and attacks people but legally.

The Mayor of Veilheim

Although elected by the literate class as The Mayor, The Mayor isn’t a Veilheimer or even from Surenia. His outsider status is celebrated as bringing an end to cultural and political stagnation, but has caused some problems. Counter to Veilheim customs, he still treats his children and grandchildren as family even though he died decades before. The Mayor’s continued contact with them is seen as unnecessary interference with the affairs of the living. Integration between living and dead society has swung back and forth throughout history, although recently the living in Veilheim have gone from viewing the world outside the living district as another plane of existence to coming and going as they please (only if they are plaguebearers) within a few generations, as orchestrated by The Mayor. 

The Mayor’s political platform is normalising death so the living die happier and produce less madmen. Under his rule, living apprenticeship under dead Masters has increased, a few living businesses such as perfumers and the Rambush family distillery now serve the dead, and skeleton prostitution is decriminalised (for health and safety reasons it’s still illegal for anyone who’s not a skeleton to be a prostitute). The Mayor also implemented the infamous and controversial Destitution Inducing Tax Law, which reduced 1000 of the richest Veilheimers being taxed 0.1% of city budget per year to 100 of the richest Veilheimers being taxed 1% of the city budget per year. The repercussions of this law will be discussed later. With increased working population and ending a few monopolies, Veilheim’s self-sufficiency caused some diplomatic issues with other cities, such as Villa Princeps and Alhambra, which used to count on Veilheim for trade. The Mayor dealt with this by decreasing staple food and fabric imports, but increasing imports of luxury items from outside.

As well as being a functional statesman, The Mayor is also a great wizard. As covered before, magic is the energy derived from souls dying outside the body. Wizards can’t perform magic on their own, but can effectively use magic items, objects with pieces of mage souls in them. To use a magic item, a wizard needs to convince the soul piece inside to die for their sake. Thus wizards are all monstrously manipulative. The Mayor keeps a stash of magic items from his home country that nobody else can use because the souls inside all speak a different language. 

During the uncertain early years of his reign, The Mayor resorted to a lot of secret crimes to stay in wealth and power. After things stabilised, The Mayor has been able to stay in power via legitimate means for a long time and has worked to erase his history, but some elements of his criminal past come back to haunt him, including you. Some of his deals have gone on for so long with people so dangerous he hasn’t figured out how to end them yet. 

Noble Porter

About 10 years ago, a pirate crew attacked the city and were all arrested. While awaiting trial, some pirates died in the cell and went mad, killing and eating the rest, forming into one single creature composed of at least 8 pirates. Temperament stabilised by being made of so many people, the resulting being’s imposing size and treasure-protecting pirate instincts led to new employment. Noble Porter, most noble of porters, delivers state documents within Veilheim and also to other cities by putting them in the big cabinet. The key is delivered separately a few days earlier to the document’s recipient. Then Noble Porter finds you and kneels so you can reach the cabinet and unlock it. Noble Porter’s head is literally and metaphorically filled with state secrets. Noble Porter is constantly surrounded by guards and seems physically incapable. Despite Noble Porter’s helpless appearance, don’t forget the composition of at least 8 pirates who spent their lives killing and looting and died cannibalising each other.

Noble Porter has a very nondescript personality, can’t speak, and takes a very long time to make decisions. Noble Porter must always be referred to without pronouns, since Noble Porter lacks the mental faculty to comprehend anything other than the proper title. It’s easy to infer complete stupidity from this, but Noble Porter has a surprisingly good idea of the general vibe and often bails out of suspicious situations before they begin. How much Noble Porter likes you is determined by how long it takes you to unlock the cabinet. If you use the wrong keys too much or unlock the wrong drawer first, Noble Porter won’t like you. Noble Porter may also relock locks, change pin combinations, and shuffle documents into other drawers. It usually takes a few minutes to get the cabinet open, but you can use this to your advantage by robbing people while they are distracted. This has inevitably led to Noble Porter liking several specific nobles because they get delivered important documents a lot. This is about as fair and efficient as the standard workplace email. How has Noble Porter managed to accumulate the wealth and prestige prerequisite to being a noble without any language skills? Pirate hoarding instincts.

If Noble Porter doesn’t like you, documents will take much longer to be delivered. If Noble Porter likes you, documents will be delivered quickly and sometimes Noble Porter will deliver extra handwritten nonsense letters and random objects. These nonsense letters are starting to become a currency in high society. Noble Porter is also married to Cylinder Locksmith, who has an unfair advantage because she installs the locks into the cabinet. Is she purposefully being exploitative? It’s hard to tell.

Tax Collector

Despite being rich and influential, Tax Collector is seen as being on the same level as other Collectors, such as Rag Collectors, Dung Collectors, Ash Collectors, etc. Tax Collector has been around for at least 500 years and thus has cultivated an extensive legacy of terror. As per Veilheim’s traditional tax policy, if someone can’t or won’t pay taxes, their share will be paid by increasing taxes for other taxpayers and also Tax Collector will drag them out into the street and stab them, after which they are ridiculed by the general public and reviled by other taxpayers who had to pick up their slack. It’s possible to regain some clout by stabbing Tax Collector back. This happens often enough that it’s legal to stab him as he’s stabbing you (it’s still illegal to stab him at any other time). If you are a chronic tax evader, instead of stabbing you in front of your house, Tax Collector will drag you into the judicial district and stab you in the main square. It’s considered a great honor if Tax Collector stabs someone with the same thing you stabbed him with. Sometimes there are multiple rounds of tax collecting, where Tax Collector collects taxes from those who can pay, stabs those who can’t, then calculates how much extra needs to be paid, collects that from those who can pay, stabs those who can’t, and so on until he reaches a monolith of riches who pays for like 18% of the city budget.

Aside from tax collecting, Tax Collector is also involved with antiforgery, crime scene investigation, and tracing the origin of stolen goods. His giant soul from old age and also work experience makes him an excellent alchemist. Alchemy is the study of how souls affect chemistry. For example, if a chunk of limestone is mined by someone and put on the back of a donkey and unloaded by someone else, then burned into quicklime by a different person, the resulting calcium oxide still carries tiny fragments of the souls of three people and one donkey. Not nearly enough to be a magic item or affect its physical behavior, but still enough to be detected by an alchemist. If you touched something, Tax Collector knows. 

After his workload of 1000 people a year was reduced to 100 people a year by the Destitution Inducing Tax Law, Tax Collector is much more involved in normal law enforcement, turning him from an annoying figure among high society to widely reviled by all. As intended by the law, 1% of Veilheim’s yearly budget is enough to drive someone to destitution. Because productive property (things like food, tools, buildings of labor, working animals, and industrial materials) are counted for tax purposes as much less than other things like leisure buildings, precious metals, and jewels, people on the verge of being in to top 100 rush to convert their riches into raw flax, iron bars, and live sheep. Those unfortunate(?) enough to still be considered rich after this often have their life’s work erased. If revenants don’t die, to maintain a functioning economy they must be killed financially. The young by comparison are still afraid of this, but old revenants driven by greed to accumulate as much as they can often lose the will to live after they can no longer grow their wealth as fast as they used to and even the biggest diamonds makes them feel nothing.

Tax Collector! Render me destitute and give my life meaning again!

Then there are people like Noble Engineer and Sporadic Miner who are so absurdly rich that paying 1% of the city’s yearly budget doesn’t significantly affect them.

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

you got any headcanons for vampires in the wizarding world?

Oh, this is an excellent question, thank you. In thinking about it, we don’t know much about Potterverse vampires. All we really know is that they appear to be more socially accepted than Werewolves. Slughorn had one as a guest at one of his parties. Despite him creeping on the underage students...

With that in mind, I can only assume that being infected with Vampirism doesn’t work the same way as Lycanthrophy. Perhaps people can only be turned into Vampires voluntarily. Either way, I suppose a Vampire could kill someone if they got “carried away,” but they could also do that more efficiently with the Killing Curse. So there probably wouldn’t be as much stigma. 

That’s the thing. Vampires, as far as I can tell, don’t have the periodic transformation into a “monster” that Werewolves have to go through. They likely don’t have any sort of “inhuman” self that would lead to them being demonized in the same way. There are apparently rumors in-universe (and at one point, among the fandom) that Snape is a vampire. To me, that suggests that you could know a Vampire for years and not know it. That there wouldn’t be anything suspicious about their behavior, nothing like disappearing every full moon. 

As for headcanons? Well, vampires are often depicted as being paler than the average person. But I prefer the idea that the skin tone takes on a more purple-ish hue. Maybe the veins are more visible. But it wouldn’t be entirely noticeable unless you look close, or perhaps have fed recently. 

There are “blood potions” available for Vampires, so they don’t need to drink blood raw, although fresh blood would probably be the tastiest, “civilized” vampires would have no excuse to go for fresh blood when there are doners available and blood potions around. 

We know teeth can be regrown, the same as any other type of bone, with Healing magic. To that effect, I think Vampires have different dental structures. I think they do have “fangs” but they frequently fall out and regrow. And vampire fangs are probably potion ingredients. Maybe Vampire fangs were once longer, and sturdier. But they aren’t being used as much anymore, due to blood potions, so they’re slowly being lost to natural selection. 

While there would have been Vampire “hunters” and they were likely a lot more popular and accepted in days past, the current climate accepts vampires thanks to them generally being pretty chill, and the management options that exist. Vampire hunters in present day would not be taken seriously, nor would they have the backing of the Ministry, like the Werewolf Registry does. 

At the core, I think the social difference is not so much a lack of discrimination, but how strong it is. I mean, it’s legal to literally hunt werewolves down, and they have to have their names added to a Government registry. Vampires? We don’t see any of that. But I can imagine that it’s socially acceptable to be afraid of them, or creeped out by them. No one is going to run screaming, but I bet most people don’t want to be alone with a vampire if they can avoid it. Just based on the uneasy idea that they might get “hungry.” Likewise, it’s probably acceptable for shops and such to refuse service and not allow Vampires in. 

I think the reason the discrimination is stronger with werewolves, has everything to do with that transformation. Again, no one ever has to think about Vampires being as “inhuman.” I can see a lot of solidarity between these two sub-types of wizards and witches, but some werewolves might feel like Vampires don’t appreciate how easy they have it by comparison. 

Let’s talk about sunlight. I don’t think it actively harms them. They probably could lead relatively normal lives, as they seem capable of doing, if that were true. I think it’s uncomfortable for them and probably makes them sick in extreme doses, but so long as they have a hat or a hood or something, they’re okay. Like, they wouldn’t be winning any duels under the sun. Prolonged exposure, over the course of years? It could be like gradually developing cancer. 

But under the moonlight? At least by comparison, they’d be faster. Stronger. On higher alert. I don’t see them actually sleeping in coffins, except perhaps for tradition’s sake, like a cultural thing. But I feel like the condition would overall affect their ability to have restful sleep. Maybe it’s more comfortable for a Vampire to sleep on a flat, hard surface. 

Like ghosts, they probably have no need or use for ordinary food. They could eat it, but I’d imagine that it’s tasteless for them. It wouldn’t provide any nutrients either. So eating normal food would be pretty much pointless, unless they were trying to keep up appearances and didn’t want to “out” themselves. 

They do drink blood, of course, and I’m pretty sure they even have candy specifically made for them to simulate the taste. So it’s not as simple as “I drink blood because biologically, it’s what my body needs now.” It seems like they really do develop a craving and a taste for blood itself. And that’s another thing, the candy is kinda proof that Vampires are more accepted than Werewolves. 

The garlic allergy is probably a myth. As far as I can tell, the silver allergy is treated as a myth in the Potterverse too. I mean, it never comes up, does it? According to HPHM, silver with dittany can seal a werewolf bite, so that’s probably where the idea comes from. Maybe there was a famous vampire like Dracula who was allergic to garlic for reasons unrelated to his vampirism. 

They are not immortal. They do not live forever. True immortality is impossible in the Potterverse, the books made that fairly clear. I mean, even Nicholas Flamel was dependent on his potion. If it was as simple as becoming a Vampire, Voldemort would have just done that. It’s possible that they don’t age, or age slowly. I’d imagine their lifespan would be unaffected, but they might not show signs of age. Alternatively, they could be “biologically” immortal, meaning they never die of age or natural causes, but can skill be killed by outside means. I have to assume that not feeding, for example, would kill a Vampire pretty quickly, as well as extended exposure to sunlight. 

They can see in the dark. A little thing, but I like the idea that they see better in darkness. Their body temperature also does down. But their bodies aren’t “dead.” At least, not functionally. Hell, here’s a spooky thought. If a ghost is the footprint of a departed soul...what if a Vampire is something similar, just in physical form? What if you “die” in becoming one, but for all intents and purposes, you’re still alive or at least appear to be? Maybe I’m not making sense, but that would be one crazy idea. 

Like what if it is functionally some kind extended curse, that is sustained through continued ingestion of blood? If you break down vampirism, that could be what it is at the core. 

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/7090918/1/01-Albus-Potter-and-the-Forgotten-Memory This fanfiction has some pretty epic Vampire representation (and is just excellent overall)

[glasspalaceshq]

𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘: Please reblog post to indicate members that you would like to receive asks relating to this ask meme. Only reblog the roleplay’s meme post from the main, not from someone else’s blog.

THE TUDORS SEASONS 1-2 SENTENCE STARTERS

❝ I cannot disguise my distress and unhappiness. ❞

❝ What about his legs? Are his calves strong like mine? ❞

❝ It’s an activity fit only for beasts yet practised by no kind of beasts. ❞

❝ Do you really think we should go to war? ❞

❝ I think we should try to do as the King wants us to do. ❞

❝ That victory made him famous [Name]. It made him immortal! ❞

❝ The thing I care for most is my integrity. ❞

❝ You must be prepared to give him the thing you most care for, in all the world. ❞

❝ There’s something deep and dangerous in you, [Name].   ❞

❝ Those eyes of yours are like dark hooks for the soul. ❞

❝ Do you see that young woman over there? ❞

❝ Should I like something that accuses me of being cruel? ❞

❝ You are a poet as I am a woman.  ❞

❝ Poets and women are always free with their hearts, are they not?  ❞

❝ You give us no choice but to attack and breach your defences! ❞

❝ What we lack in men, we can more than makeup for in ships. ❞

❝ Don’t tease me. I don’t like it. ❞

❝ Will you like it when an old man tries to make love to you? ❞

❝ Gospel says the truth will make you free. ❞

❝ I write poems, I don’t know how to be “a poet”. ❞

❝ Of course, I loved her, but from a distance. ❞

❝ Why do you let them talk to you like that? ❞

❝ Did you love her? ❞

❝ Oh, I hope so. I certainly do hope so, for your sake. ❞

❝ You will remove yourself from my sight. Do you understand? ❞

❝ I have yet to decide whether to make your bedmate a head shorter. ❞

❝ I won’t have a thought or an affection for anyone else.  ❞

❝ I promise I’ll take you as my only mistress. ❞

❝ Look, I don’t mean he is banished forever. Just as long as he breathes. ❞

❝ You’re going away, why? ❞

❝ Forgive me, I spoke of things I should not. ❞

❝ What would a silly girl like you have to say to a king? ❞

❝ I give you leave that we may always speak freely with each other. ❞

❝ How do you like your charge, sweetheart? ❞

❝ It makes a man, any man… extremely vulnerable. ❞

❝ Diplomacy is nearly always settled by such proximity. ❞

❝ I do not sleep with her. Not whilst you and I are still married. ❞

❝ Someone told me taking infusions was the worst thing. ❞

❝ It will make you feel sick, but it’s better than the sickness it prevents. ❞

❝ I must stay in the king’s good graces or we are nothing. ❞

❝ I didn’t see all of his game. Now I do. I despise him. ❞

❝ You can love, perhaps for a year, a month, a day, even for an hour. ❞

❝ I do believe you love as well and deeply… as any man. ❞

❝ Your love is most generous where it is most hurtful. ❞

❝ You speak to me of chastity. Have you not a mistress and two children?   ❞

❝ I shall have to share [Name]’s table, and sometimes her bed. ❞

❝ I hear you’ve been unwell? Is it true? ❞

❝ Have you no kind things to say? ❞

❝ You treat me so unkindly and in public neglect me. ❞

❝ We were never legally man and wife. ❞

❝ I don’t think anything, but I imagine everything. ❞

❝ Do you… do you have a message from the King? ❞

❝ I would rather see her hanged than acknowledge her as my mistress! ❞

❝ Aren’t you supposed to be running the country? ❞

❝ Would you prefer them to be women? ❞

❝ I would only be unhappy if you ever stopped loving me. ❞

❝ Have I made you unhappy? ❞

❝ I believed with all my heart that he would return to reason, but now, I … ❞

❝ I notice you allow yourself none of the trappings of your great office. ❞

❝ Now, my love, let me conceive… and we will have a son. ❞

❝ Can you not plead some indisposition? ❞

❝ Don’t act impulsively; it’s always a mistake. ❞

❝ I’m not heartless, whatever some people think- quite the contrary. ❞

❝ I could still do it. I could find a way to poison her. ❞

❝ But, why should anyone ever know? ❞

❝ You understand? You don’t act alone.  ❞

❝ You’ve never even seen a man being tortured, have you? ❞

❝ I’m sure we both know the object that has brought us together. ❞

❝ I would rather lose my own son than to see any hurt come to you. ❞

❝ I have no opinion. I neither murmur at it nor dispute upon it. ❞

❝ I must confess, I rather like the liberty of not being married again! ❞

❝ Don’t you know I love you a thousand times more than [Name] ever did!? ❞

❝ I cannot think whether it would be a bad thing, or a good thing if he died. ❞

❝ What about your daughter, will you watch her suffer? ❞

❝ Tell me, [Name], was it all worth it?! ❞

❝ We found no evidence against you. You’re to be released…eventually. ❞

❝ Do you believe this to be true? ❞    

❝ How can you say that to me!? ❞    

❝ Then you should smash and destroy it- utterly, totally and without pity. ❞    

❝ I’m a woman, and I demand equal respect for my ideas! ❞  

❝ I don’t think that you are going far enough, or fast enough. ❞    

❝ So, tell me- you are suppressing some religious houses? ❞    

❝ Now he will die ashamed and alone in a prison cell. ❞    

❝ We forgive him because he is a genius… whatever that means. ❞    

❝ Do you know who that was? ❞    

❝ You should know that the King himself has no mind to coerce you. ❞    

❝ I say no harm, I think no harm- but I wish everybody good. ❞    

❝ I need hardly remind you of the consequences of not doing so. ❞    

❝ Will you take the Oath? ❞    

❝ May I ask your opinion of the King’s new marriage? ❞    

❝ They would find you and torture you, and you would tell them everything. ❞    

❝ Perhaps, one day this little girl will preside over empires. ❞    

❝ I’m going to have to attend on the king and that bitch of his at her coronation!  ❞  

❝ Yes, I must forgive you, I must always forgive you, BUT I GROW TIRED OF FORGIVING YOU! ❞  

[pokemonruby]

1, 2-18 even only for ravi and oswald!!

MY BOYS!! 

1. their voice

well, ravi’s tone is usually very… upbeat? it has an airy sort of feel to it, the kind of voice that could immediately raise your spirits.. but at the same time, if you listen close enough, it can sound quite… strained? as if he’s faking this whole “cheerful” act. hmm

now, as for oswald? well, he doesn’t really speak often; he much prefers sign language of course, but whenever he explodes it’s uh… let’s just say oswald doesn’t care about the volume of his voice. he’s essentially a cantankerous old man in the body of a young adult. 

2. their smile

again, if you inspect ravi’s smile closely… you’ll find that it’s just as feigned as his merry tone. an unfading, almost creepy smile to those aware of its truth; moreover, it can serve as comforting to those ignorant. the entirety of ravi’s demeanor is nothing but a facade built to hide the insecurities of a broken and daresay, maddened man. 

as for oswald, it’s rare that he smiles due to his aforementioned foul attitude. but whenever that opportunity arises and he does show a smile, let’s just say… the whole world would stop and stare at it, it’s so adorable and pure. 

4. their insecurities

as i mentioned before, ravi has many insecurities that he’d rather keep tucked away beneath a cheerful mask. he’s suffered quite a bit in his past, and therefore isn’t true to himself any longer - fearing that he’ll be taken advantage of, due to how unstable he is. so, ravi puts on an elaborate act to trick himself into thinking he’s sane, that nothing’s wrong, even as the pain gnaws away at his very soul. 

not to mention… ravi cursed with immortality, which is yet another burden to carry on his brittle shoulders. the fact he’s unable to die to be with the loved ones he’s lost… is truly the worst form of punishment in the universe.

now, with oswald’s insecurities… he’s rather upfront about it, incomparable to ravi’s mindset of ignoring everything until it blows out of porportion. oswald doesn’t necessarily attempt to fix his insecurities, rather… he acknowledges them. he knows he isn’t particularly the best person to be around, due to his waspish personality… and he doesn’t consider himself to be very talented, despite being a high-ranking member of the country’s largest bureau. but he refuses to make a big deal out of something he can’t change. oswald just isn’t the kind of person to accept positivity, since he honestly cares less. 

he just wants to do his job and get paid for it. that’s really it.

6. how they deal with grief

well, uh.. if you’ve been following along with ravi’s internal conflict, you’d understand that he doesn’t handle grief properly in the slightest. i mean, after he lost his former spouse and child, ravi decided to avenge them by… y’know, massacring the village responsible for their deaths. he’s definitely the type of person to choose revenge over forgiveness - i mean, he wasn’t exactly stable to begin with. ravi’s faced tragedy again and again, and when he finally found happiness - it was taken away from him in a heartbeat. 

also there’s the whole plot in which ravi attempts to become god to bring back his deceased family but let’s…. discuss that later. 

oswald, on the other hand, hasn’t faced much tragedy during his life. he never had a family who cared for him, so… upon their deaths, he felt nothing. in a way, oswald was relieved to finally be free of their abuse… but they’ve taught him to keep his distance from people henceforth. such has caused oswald to avoid relationships and isolate himself in his own, little world. it isn’t until he met ravi that oswald knew compassion from another person… 

good thing his only friend is an immortal, right? maybe he’ll never face grief because of that. 

8. what they like to eat

finally, i don’t have to hurt my boys anymore. so, ravi is an impressive chef - i mean, he’s downright masterful in the kitchen. he prefers traditional food from his homeland overall, but is very much open to trying new things. believe it or not, ravi has quite the sweet tooth! his favorite would have to be eclairs, with macarons as a close second. 

oswald doesn’t particularly have a favorite meal? i mean, he’ll really eat anything that you’d present to him… but he does have a soft spot for seafood. which is something his dear friend happens to excel at making. but if i’m being honest, oswald could survive on nothing but coffee and be fine. 

10. their fashion sense

i’m not necessarily sure how to describe ravi’s fashion sense, as he’s usually dressed in robes and sleeveless tops. i’d say traditional, but not really at the same time? to be honest, he believes in looking formal, yet being comfortable first and foremost. 

moreover, oswald wears his uniform 99% of the time but that in itself is fancy and suits his character quite well. while he doesn’t “dress to impress”, oswald does make an effort to make himself look presentable for the sake of his workplace; however, i’d be lying if i said he’s never smiled at his own reflection before. to be fair, he does look rather elegant in his uniform. 

12. their romantic life

after a lot of trial and error, ravi eventually accepts he’ll never reunite with his family… and begins a stable, happy relationship with my boyfriend’s oc, luther! they’ve been married since the moment their eyes first met, honestly. very lovey-dovey and ravi will cook his favorite meals and they’ll go on extravagant dates and… sigh. i love these husbands. let’s hope nothing happens to luther

meanwhile, oswald love life is… empty. while he developed feelings for ravi long before he met luther, oswald never had the courage to confess. therefore, he can only watch as the man he loved flies away in the wind… while oswald begrudgingly carries himself to his job each day and is smothered to death by a mountain of paperwork. rip oswald 

14. how they react to burning their tongue on food

well, ravi has an incredibly sweet husband who will kiss away the pain… while oswald overreacts and acts as if he’s dying. listen… as a gay he’s legally obligated to be dramatic about every minor inconvenience. 

16. their dreams

currently, ravi’s dream is to marry luther and live happily ever after with him… while completely ignoring the fact he’s immortal and there’s a cult after his head for that very purpose. but hey! as of right now, they’re perfectly fine! :) 

sadly, oswald doesn’t have any dreams… because he’s accepted his lonely existence as unchanging, and will continue to drag himself to the office each day without a real purpose. hopefully a certain grayson will come along and convince him otherwise… but oswald’s already decided he’ll just spend the rest of his life working, as if it’s the only thing he’s capable of. 

18. how they sleep

sometimes, it’s difficult for ravi to sleep due to the nightmares that plague his mind… but nowadays, he’ll often find peace within luther’s arms. as if he’s keeping the ghosts of ravi’s failure away, which is yet another reason ravi is so indebted (and in love) with him. i know i’ve gone on about them enough, but ravi and luther’s relationship is so beautiful to be honest. two, broken men who’ve lost everything find solace at last with each other. 

…. as for oswald, he collapses immediately the moment he’s home from the office. exhausted doesn’t even begin to describe his condition; oswald hardly cares about eating dinner, he just wants to SLEEP

and when he does sleep, it’s rather soundly. the only time oswald isn’t troubled by anything. 

[quillandsaber]

30 Days of Beauty and the Beast: Day 6 (First)

I had great fun designing the castle chaplain's backstory and personality.  I hope to involve Pére François heavily in the future, because he's pretty uniformly awesome.  Adam did not deserve him.

BE WARNED: There is a premature newborn in this story.  As in, might-not-live premature.  I can assure you as the author that the baby survives (he's been referenced in an earlier short), but my characters don't know that.

"Your Highness, you have a son."

Cogsworth delivered the news gravely, and Adam knew instantly something wasn't right.  From the moment he'd been told Belle's pains had started, he'd sat in the chapel, alternatively praying, hoping, fearing, feeling utterly powerless...and now it had all come to this.  Cold dread settled in the pit of his stomach.  "What is it?  What's wrong?"

"The midwife and doctor agree it best that the baby be baptized immediately," the older man said carefully.  "I was asked to fetch you; I've already found the chaplain."

Adam did not need to be told twice.  He raced out of the chapel, up the stairs, dodging servants as they came from Belle's rooms carrying linens, ewers, other random items he couldn't make out in his mad dash towards his wife's bedchamber and the small cluster of people gathered outside the door.

Pére François was already there, stone-faced, preparing the holy water and the oil--he must have had it with him in readiness, Adam thought, and his stomach sank further--but Adam barrelled past them towards the doctor and midwife.  He could see blood on their hands, the smell of it frightening him even more.

"What's wrong?" he asked, darting between the two.  "How are they?"

"The princess is as well as she can be, but your son is...very small, and his cry is weak.  We believe he was born earlier than he ought."  The doctor looked to the midwife, who nodded.  "It is possible he may live--thrive, even--but for the sake of his immortal soul, I cannot recommend taking that risk.  However..."

"The princess won't allow anyone to take the child from her," the midwife finished.  "It's not uncommon for new mothers to be possessed with this sort of madness when they know their child is...unwell, but he is still unbaptized, and he will need to be fed if he is to thrive."

"I can perform the sacrament for the child in his mother's arms, there is no impediment," the priest interrupted, bowl and cloth in hand.  "But for the sake of his soul, we must act now.  His Highness should come with me and be witness."

"I'll go first," Adam returned, mind racing with all the new information; it was too much, too much at once to absorb.  "I might be able to calm her down."  Actually, he had no idea if he was able to calm her down--it would be a first if he did--but he needed to see that she was all right, at least.  The vague notion that he might have lost her (might still lose her, a voice said in the back of his head) was near enough to drive him insane.

With trembling hands, he opened the door to look in on the birthing room.

From what little he knew of birth, it seemed as if the servants had already been in to remove the soiled sheets and other things, but the smell of blood was still in the air, barely masked by scented candles.  Belle sat in her bed, hair a tangled, damp mess, eyes sunken and red, but--God be praised--alert and alive.  In her arms she clutched a tiny linen-wrapped bundle as if she was afraid it would disappear from her arms.

"Adam!" she whispered, fear coloring every syllable.  "Adam, is the priest here?"

"Yes, love, he is."  Adam glanced over to Pére François, who had bustled past him to the bedside.

"I won't let him go," she insisted, and the bundle let out a weak whine.  "They won't take him from me, not if...not if…"

"Be at peace, daughter," the old priest said, placing the bowl of water on the bedside table.  "All I need is to be able to see his face to baptize and anoint him, and to know his name."

"Jean-Alexandre," Belle said, her tight grip loosening just enough for the bundle to start turning, though Adam couldn't see past the black-coated back of the priest.  "We agreed that it would be Jean-Alexandre for a boy."

The priest began muttering in Latin so quickly Adam couldn't follow it, and he craned his neck to try to catch a glimpse of his son.  When Pére François backed away, he could finally see the child's face peering out from swaths of linen and silk wrappings.  It looked like no child he had ever seen before, pinched, somehow pale and ruddy at the same time, and so unbelievably small.

Then the child's nose twitched, and he gave out the tiniest wail Adam could possibly imagine, and a surge of some primal nameless emotion threatened to overwhelm him.  That was his child, his son, his and his wife's.  His firstborn, no matter what else happened tonight or tomorrow or the day after that.

A woman--the wet-nurse, Adam was fairly certain, though he only vaguely remembered being told that Mrs. Potts had selected one to be added to the nursery staff--shuffled past him.  "The young master is hungry.  Madame, if you please--"

Belle's eyes flashed with desperate fire as she clutched the swaddled baby close to her chest.  "'It is fit that every mother should nurse her own child because her milk, which is nothing else but the blood whitened of which it was made and wherewith he had been nourished the time he stayed in his mother's womb,' that's what Guillemeau says."  She looked to the ancient book that she'd kept next to her nearly as long as she'd been sure she'd been expecting; she must have read it cover to cover at least five times.  "You aren't taking him!"

"Madame--" the nurse began again, but a withering look from Belle silenced her.  The nurse looked to Adam, who looked to his terrified, distressed wife, then to the doctor.  He hadn't the faintest clue what to do, he didn't even know if there was anything he could do that would actually help, but everyone was looking to him to make a decision.

"Is there any reason this would be dangerous to either of them, anything that wouldn't be in the book?" Adam asked at last.

The doctor seemed to choose his words carefully before speaking.  "If you will permit me to mention it, ladies of noble lineage are often too delicate for it, and if any tried, it is likely that their milk would be insufficient.  However, considering the...unusual circumstances of the princess's birth..."

"It's her decision, then."

The entire room was silent for a long moment after Adam's proclamation except the small cries that came from the child.  Then the nurse spoke.  "Very well, Highness.  If his Highness would…?"

"No, let him stay, if he wants."  Belle's voice cracked.  "I want Alex to know his father, no matter what happens.  As much as he can."

The nurse looked startled, but as soon as the doctor left, she proceeded to assist his wife, murmuring quietly as they adjusted chemise, baby, and breast according to some set of rules Adam couldn't guess at, but he took the opportunity to sneak around to get a better look at his wife and son without intruding on what seemed strangely like a sacred scene, perhaps reminiscent of the Madonna and Child paintings he had seen in Italy in his youth.  Finally, the nurse backed up, muttering something about being back in ten minutes, and then the small new family was alone.

"You can come closer," Belle said, gaze fixed on the child at her breast.  "He has your eyes.  I was hoping he would."

His hands were still shaking so much he was afraid to even suggest he touch the baby, but he scooted onto the edge of the bed so he could wrap an arm around his wife's waist and look over her shoulder at their child.  The baby had stopped nursing, lying very still with his eyes closed, moving just enough to indicate that he was still breathing.

"This is your papa, Jean-Alexandre," Belle whispered.  "He's been waiting very patiently to meet you for many months now, and he's loved you every minute of it.  Didn't you?"

Adam nodded, blinking back tears.  Sitting there, arms around his wife and son, he vowed to be grateful for this day.  God only knew they might not have many more of them, but he'd always cherish this memory of his firstborn in his heart.

Some important history information for this one, presented as an information dump: the Prince and Belle would necessarily be Catholic, being French post-Huguenot removal.  According to Catholic tradition (as in, how most people believed, which is not necessarily what the detailed theological texts said), an infant's soul would be condemned to hell if they died unbaptized, so a baby who was born weak or sickly would be baptized as quickly as possible.  It's very realistic that Adam would have never seen an infant before; noblewomen didn't raise their own children until they were four or five, and even servant women sent their children away to be wet-nursed as soon after birth as possible so they could return to work.  90% of all French babies at the time were wet-nursed for practical or traditional reasons, and modern scholars believe this was a contributing factor to high infant mortality rates.

Jacques Guillemeau (1550-1613) was the first French obstetrician.  While his seminal work on birth and nursing would have been considered ancient and questionably-sound in Belle's day--which is why Adam doesn't trust it as much as Belle does and why a lot of its information was ignored by doctors and midwives of the era--it was (to the best of my ability to determine) the only obstetrics text to be written in French until later in the 18th century.  The line in the book immediately after the sentence Belle quotes lists reasons why women would have to use a wet-nurse, one of them being that their husbands won't permit it; Adam, legally-speaking, had the power to force Belle to give the child to a wet-nurse, which is why everyone looked to him to make the call.

[scriptmyth]

Persephone, Kore, and the Brides of Hades

Persephone and Hades, and their relationship, is a story told and re-told. You might have heard that Persephone went willingly with Hades, or that she came to love him, or that she died, or that her name was originally Kore.

There are many versions of the story, and it’s hard to pin down the “original” version. So while the following version (and subsequent interpretations) may not be from the version you’re familiar with, it is based on the common elements of the ancient sources (such as Homeric hymns, Hesiod, and Ovid).

Who is Kore and how did she become Persephone?

Kore (also spelled Core) was a goddess of spring, growth, and bounty. Her name meant “maiden.” She was worshiped alongside her mother, Demeter, in the Eleusinian Mysteries. It is only after she has eaten the pomegranate seeds (which mean she must return to the Underworld) and emerged back into the land of the living that her name changed to Persephone (which means “she who brings doom” or “the chaos bringer” depending on who you talk to).

In most translations, and even many ancient sources, she is only ever referred to as Persephone. In the case of translations, it is likely that this is to reduce confusion. In ancient sources, it’s interesting that only some of them call her Kore prior to her abduction. This could be a case of two distinct goddesses with similar stories or domains of influence being combined into a single one, or it could simply be that by the time of the Homeric Hymn of Demeter (for example), the name of Kore had fallen out of common usage, leaving only her transformed name--Persephone.

Did Persephone go willingly with Hades?

While it makes for a more romantic story to envision Persephone running away with Hades, this appears to be a later variant. In Myths of the Underworld Journey: Plato, Aristophanes, and the Orphic Gold Tablets (by Radcliffe G. Edmonds, III) Persephone is reported to be a guardian of the Underworld/challenger of those attempting to gain entrance to the Underworld; she completes this function without Hades. There are also further references to her being the sole (or supreme) ruler of the Underworld and though I have no original sources for it, there is a version in which Persephone wanders willingly down to the Underworld and becomes its Queen because of the pity she feels for the abandoned souls there. Again, with no mention of Hades.

Dating these versions is difficult. The ones reported by Edmonds are linked to the Eleusinian Mysteries (which would have come after the Hades/Persephone version), but that doesn’t mean they weren’t based on proto-versions of the myth, or even adopted from another culture with a similar story of how the goddess of the Underworld came to her position.

Did Persephone come to love Hades?

Once more, it is romantic to assume that Persephone and Hades came to have a mutually loving relationship, but the sad reality is that the pair are very rarely shown interacting with one another. In myths, such as that of Orpheus, they may appear together, but only interact with the hero of the myth.

It’s interesting to note that in southern Italy, their version claimed Persephone refused to leave the Underworld (as reported by Edmonds [see above], though no mention of Hades or her relationship to him).

Women at that time did not marry for love. Nor was it something that was expected to “blossom over time.” Marriage was a relationship of utility, specifically meant to increase the status, power, and wealth of the families of the two getting married. (A little silver lining, there are recovered love letters between husbands and wives, so that proves at least some of the couples in antiquity loved one another)

And right in the Hymn to Demeter, Demeter slams Hades directly to Persephone, calling him loathsome. Though it isn’t stated explicitly, I imagine such Hades-bashing would occur every time Persephone returned from the Underworld.

Metaphor for the Seasons

Most people can recognize that the myth is explaining why the seasons change. For a third of the year, Persephone is in the Underworld and nothing grows upon the earth. She returns and brings with her spring.

Interestingly, the Eleusinian Mysteries were broken into two parts. The Lesser Mysteries took place in the spring and purified participants for the September Greater Mysteries. Initiates were sworn to secrecy on the pain of death, so even though this appears to have been a ritual many aspired to take part in, there is little that is known about the specific ritual. We know that the Greater Mystery starts with initiates (aka the participants) walking from Athens to Eleusis, calling for Kore, before resting beside the well that Demeter supposedly paused at. They would rest by the well, fasting, until they drank a special beverage called kykeon (some scholars think it was psychotropic).

After, the initiates would descend into an underground theatre and the secret ritual took place. Scholars theorize that it may have involved a (symbolic) re-enactment of Persephone’s death and rebirth. One of my professors in university thought it might have involved watching a maiden lose her virginity, though given that some ‘testimonials’ from ancient sources (like Plato and Plutarch), it seems that initiates may have participated in the ritual (instead of simply watching)--which makes the logistics of my professor’s theory unpleasant.

But that the Greater Mysteries took place in September, rather than in the spring suggests a different way of looking at the cycle of seasons. It could be a promise that the coming winter will end, or it could be a promise that even in death people will be cared for (many people left with a changed world-view and no fear of death), or it could even be a celebration of the coming winter. We just don’t know for sure.

Metaphor for Marriage

Beneath the obvious metaphor for the seasons, is a metaphor for marriage.

It was a tradition for young maidens in ancient Greece to be ‘kidnapped’ prior to their wedding. It was a rite known as “hand on wrist” and was a symbolic kidnapping--part of the transfer of power from a maiden’s father to her husband. It primarily consisted of the groom taking the bride by the wrist and leading her to her new home.

Then there is the tradition of the stephane--a crown made of metal or flowers that maidens wore on their wedding day. And Persephone is almost always described as gathering flowers prior to the abduction.

While many flowers are named, I find it interesting that almost all of them are purple (with the only exceptions being a rose and a narcissus). The wedding dress of women were purple gowns, trimmed in gold, with a red veil covering their face. The colours of the flowers she was gathering.

Further, in ancient Greece, women had no say in who they married. A maiden’s kyrios (guardian, generally their father) would make the agreement with the husband-to-be (or his guardian if, for some reason, the betrothal was being made between two under-age people). The Hymn to Demeter (the primary source of this myth) states repeatedly that Zeus had given his permission to Hades. It was, as far as ancient Greeks would have been concerned, a completely legal marriage arrangement.

Now, there are several marriage rites that are not observed according to the Hymn to Demeter, such as Persephone dedicating a lock of hair, clothes, and toys to Artemis; or the ritual bathing the morning of the marriage; or her mother/mother-in-law carrying a torch as she’s escorted to her new home--though Demeter does wander around with lit torches after she can’t find Persephone--but the Hymn to Demeter doesn’t dwell on Persephone again until Zeus commands Hades to return Persephone.

And many of the other parts of the marriage rites involved symbolic deaths (and actual deaths...there were a lot of sacrifices). The connection between death and marriage was strong, and cannot be ignored when considering the story of Persephone and Hades.

Metaphor for Death

Finally, there is the strong possibility that the story is a metaphor for Persephone’s death. The Eleusinian Mysteries (as far as can be determined) culminate in a re-enactment of the death and rebirth of Persephone after all.

In ancient Greece, if a maiden died before marriage, her family would still observe many of the marriage rituals. She would be ritually bathed, dressed in clothes reminiscent of wedding attire, and proclaimed to be a ‘bride of Hades.’

Though unwed maidens were called ‘brides of Hades’ they were not expected or believed to supplant Persephone. For women at this time, their purpose in life was to marry and have children, thus by claiming the title of ‘bride of Hades,’ even those girls who died young would have achieved at least part of their life’s purpose. This was a narrative meant to ease the pain of losing a daughter.

So it would have been understood by ancient Greeks that Persephone being carried off to be the bride of Hades was an allusion to all the young women who died before they could marry.

And let’s not forget that whatever secret ritual was part of the Eleusinian Mysteries, initiates left with no fear of death. Plutarch (an initiate) wrote to his wife after his daughter’s death and declared “because of those sacred and faithful promises given in the mysteries...we hold it firmly for an undoubted truth that our soul is incorruptible and immortal. Let us behave ourselves accordingly" [source] which supports the idea that the story of Persephone was understood on some level to be the story of a maiden dying.

Final Thoughts

While there are many versions of this myth, and it continues to be a common one to be re-interpreted for the sake of a story, it’s good to know the origins and allusions. Understanding the original themes and motivations for a myth allows you to better adapt it to your writing/story needs.

[simmyfrobby]

[timclymer]

It's A Wonderful Life

Sadly, many pro-choice advocates tend to label their counterparts primitive believers. It would seem that, to such ‘progressive’ people, all practices who oppose abortion are but lower species, and their faithful are merely a primitive herd. However, they do not dare to take a look at the man in the mirror, which is proof of hypocrisy and primitivism. Who is displaying a lack of tolerance in this story? Do not they say that a lack of tolerance is typical of primitivism?

What is the definition of primitivism? Every person must decide for themselves, because every person has been privileged on occasion, sooner or later in life (and by this I do not mean being in the cradle as a child, because this is where we are at our most tolerant). We should really think about it: if faith fosters love, compassion and kindness towards the other in people, then those who call all of this primitive must be the most primitive of all. Love connects people, hatred tears them apart. Each person, as a free individual, is entitled to free opinion, and life should be the judge of who’s right and who’s not. But how are we expected to get an answer from life if we kill it to begin with?

I do not know much about victories, but there is on thing I am sure of: compassion is the greatest of victories of the human spirit. I am writing from my own experience because, as a youth, I was a skeptic blinded by myself, by raw lust, alcohol, drugs, cynism, arrogance … and one day I arrived at the very edge of life. I thought I should simply leave this world because I never became as famous as I expected. I cheated on women who sincerityly loved me due to raw lust, and then I felt His hand on my shoulder. Even if you think that your aimless straying is over, know that you’ve only started off on the right path. , and it will take you into the hearts of many. Be the voice of those in need, be the voice of love, be the voice of freedom, and you will turn yourself and others into better people through your versions. “

Since that day, I feel much happier and fulfilled, not because I think that I’m special or free of sin, but because I realized that I am just a sinner who really wants to better himself, and I can safely say that there is a higher holy force that makes us better. I do not know what He looks like, but I do know He exists, with all my heart and soul. I will not attempt to look for Him here or there, because He teaches me that whenever you’re doing good to others, He is within you. Ever since then, I have learned that faith accounts for a strong spirit, which is any person’s best ally in times of temptation, because weak-spirited people will be the first to fall. Who is falling?

Those who fail to show compassion for others;

Those who are ready to rebuff themselves for the sake of power and money (such people become slaves to greed);

Those who hate more than they love;

Those who want to rule over nature (A person can only feel all the enchantment of nature if they love it as they love themselves, and in synergy with nature – the sun and the wind – people will create energy that will take them into space, to shake brotherly hands with other creatures of God);

Those who want to clone stem cells to create human beings in laboratories, while at the same time there are millions of people dying of hunger (We know that a human being is only complete with emotions, which comes from the soul that can never be created by another human);

Those who hope that hunger will decimate humanity, because there is too much people in this world anyway (If that happens, the cloned man shall rule, and tears, laugh, sorrow, hope and faith will be gone, as well as humans with souls );

Those who attempt to cure the emptiness within with futile lust (To love is to place our happiness in the happiness of another – Leibniz);

Those who are afraid of solitude (of the man in the mirror);

Those who consider the faithful to be primitive.

Many people like to play with statistics, but I say that those who are slaves to statistics are slowly losing the most important thing that makes them human – their emotions. Yes, life teachers us that the day we master our own emotions, we lose them forever. And, regardless of statistics, we have to listen to our hearts, which tell us that faith does not teach us anything bad. Is faith in compassion a bad kind of faith? Is helping those in need a bad kind of faith? Is faith in love a bad kind of faith? Is faith in the idea that every living being has the right to live a bad kind of faith? I will allow myself to quote a great comment by a forum member at a Croatian news portal: "Those who claim that there are ten thousand abortions a year due to a” bad social situation “, rape (or forced sex in marriage), or Medical indications during pregnancy, are fools. Most of these abortions are performed on the younger female population. These are mostly young girls who get pregnant, and then their mothers, who are around 40 and do not want to become grandmothers, drag them to the doctor to have an abortion. The worst thing is the fact that many of them have several abortions. The fact that it’s almost like going to the dentist is shameful.I am sickened by this society’s hypocrisy. long ago. Would any pro-choice coordinators dare to say – in public, and on that particular day – that it’s acceptable to have an abortion if tests show that the child will suffer from Down’s syndrome. reason, among ot hers! And it is legal. The test is performed during week 11 of the pregnancy, so that the pregnant woman may have an abortion in case of bad test results, as abortion is legal up to week 19. What is the difference between such a pregnant woman and the Nazis, who considered the ill to be degenerate and freaks that should be extinguished? ”

Why am I so touched by this unfortunate abortion story? Because I am an extramarital child of a poor mother with a rich soul. My late mother told me at her deathbed that my mother was a great dreamer, and that I must have inherited that trait from her. Grandma acknowledged that her young daughter was abandoned by her partner, who left her behind pregnant, with the promise that he would return for her as soon as he makes some money up north in the Big Apple, and he would take her to paradise, but she never heard from him again. Grandmother tried to talk her into having an abortion, because they were barely able to survive, even without a child, but at that point she joined her hands in prayer and, looking up, she said: “Thank God, she would not listen to me … your mother is a hero, she took up the toughest of jobs to be able to raise you … and when social services wanted to take you away and give you up for adoption to a wealthy couple from a big northern city, she said that it would happen only over her dead body! ”

My mother drew her indomitable strength from the Texas prairie. She always standing upright like a cactus, she withstood the winter, the wind, the drafts – to cut a long story short, the capricious winds of destiny never drove her to her knees (sadly, the man who left her pregnant and left off to New York was a weak-spirited coward, even though he was Texan). When I went to football games as a youth, I used to compare the football coach to my mother. I remember the words of the late coach, who was adored by the fans almost as if he was a saint. He himself was a fan of the working class, and he used to tell his players: “We always have to think and play from game to game, because this is the credo of the people of this city. we live in. People have to fight in order to survive. we can not let them down. What we feel when we take the field is not pressure … Pressure is when these people go home missing the money to feed their kids. ”

Yes, my mother was from a poor family, but her soul is noble, and that’s why I’m always proud to say that my mother is blue-blooded and nobility, because there is no greater nobility than love. I can proudly claim before the world that I have inherited my love of the earth, not just the golden Texas prairie, but our one only planet Earth, from my mother. SACRIFICE, modesty, humility, respect, hard work, faith … that’s the motto, not just of my humble family, but of most people across the proud Texas prairie. There is no government or money that could keep me from fighting for nature, and this is also why I fight against bankers, oil corporations, greedy dictators, political castes (by this, I do not mean political visionaries like myself, who fight to save nature) because, lest we forget, global warming is not a natural process, but a product of human greed. I remember my mother singing the old “Tennessee Waltz” to me when I was a kid. If you listen to the immortal Patti Page, you will know the kind of singing voice my mother had when she was young. I’ll never forget watching her sing and look through a small window into the distance, like a golden bird locked in a cage. But instead of her, her baby bird left the cage and flew off into the world in his early youth. What sacrifice it must be to voluntarily impersonate your youth and beauty into a small dark room for the sake of your child, I think while wistfully looking at a pale family photo. One Christmas Eve I asked her if she ever considered an abortion, and she looked into the distance and said in a tired voice: “I must admit that there were moments when I blamed all my troubles on God, but my faith was stronger .. My faith kept me from falling, and an angel who whispered to me that I should look for work as a cleaner in the maternity ward. Those newborn children have the strength to stand up and fight. Yes, son, there were troubled times. ahead, but I saw an ocean of craving in your big blue eyes that made it worth living for … ”

After listening to this story, I often thought how great it would have been if all the newborn children had mothers like that. I never turned out to be wealthy, or a great politician, but I wrote some poems, novels and plays that made it worth to live. After all, who gave us the right to decide whether to have an abortion or not ?! It’s not important what kind of country or family a child is born into, it may still become a great journalist, poet, actor, philosopher or humanist politician some day, someone who will make the world a better place to live. Or else, they might become the most important thing – a simple honored human being.

Yes, life is wonderful in deed, and when you think that there is no way out, just remember Frank Capra’s classic movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”. The younger generation should watch that movie in school, because the movie, with acting virtuoso James Stewart, teaches us that life is worth fighting for even when you think that there is no way out and, what’s most important, how to remain human. Yes, this movie proves the positive power art can have on the human soul, and this is why the world should pay more attention to art that enriches all the values ​​that make us human. Literature and motion pictures with noble messages deserve more attention from people, instead of slavery to raw profit.

It is common knowledge that every person has the freedom to choose between good and evil. When I read a true story about a homeless man in New York, who found a bag full of money and returned it to the owner, I was proud to be human, but when I read that the same man became homeless due to bankers’ greed , I am accused of being human. It is interesting to find out that the same story happened twice, in the USA and in Croatia. When journalists asked the Croatian homeless man in Split why he returned the money, he just shrugged and humbly replied: “Even though I lost everything, partly because of my own mistakes, and partly because of the bank’s usuries, all I want is to remain a faithful and honest man. ” Yes, this man is a hero of mine. Of course, I do not promote poverty. I want to be successful, but I do not want to lose my soul in the process. I always vote for capitalism with a human face and a human soul. Yes to success, but no to greed! This is my life’s motto, lest we forget that greed is a disease much more dangerous than the pest or cholera. The Croatian political caste is proof of greed being a dark bottomless pit. Imagine a small and beautiful country blessed by mother nature, with a thousand islands and a clear azure sea, fertile lowlands and paradise green valleys, yet with many thousands of people, both old and young, going through garbage bins because of the political caste’s greed. Now try to imagine how endless the politicians’ greed is: kind people who want to donate food to the poor must pay taxes to the state on any food or other goods they donate to the poor. Thus, the paradox is that it is easier to just throw away the food into garbage than to donate it to the poor. This political caste (the “reformed” communist party) is not satisfied by millions paid in bribery by “investors”, or by selling state-owned companies with brand names for peanuts, like insurance companies and banks, and other malversations. No, they simply must steal whatever little the paupers have left. Is not greed really an accursed disease? It does not simply destroy the body, no, it also destroys the human soul. It is a dark bottomless pit that can never be filled, and it feeds on human souls. This is what my noble mother taught me. She would never allow herself to be separated from the family brooch she inherited, displaying a smiling Christ figure. There are many people who look down on people like her, and they think that gold credit cards give them the right to consider them the betters of the poor faithful. Well, they’re wrong! The worst kind of poverty is the poverty of the spirit. Those who are working their way towards power and money, looking down on the faithful, should know that those who ridicule faith are those who call His name the loudest on their deathbed. I do not support fanaticism in anything, and certainly not in faith, because the Creator teachers us that tolerance and love for others is the best way towards faith. So, even when I criticize greedy people, I do not hate them. Instead, I am doing it from the depths of my soul, hoping for them to see the world through the eyes of the faithful someday.

History teachers us that even the greatest among unbelievers experienced a sincere conversion at the end of their lives (and I do not mean Pharisees). On his deathbed, Jean-Paul Sartre said to his best friend: “You know, Francois, I was a great skeptic all my life as far as faith is concerned … but there must be a higher deity that enriches the human soul with all those values ​​I was searching for like a castaway on the ocean of temptation … ”

Yes, and I would add: taking a step at a time on the path to true freedom is not easy, as the great Plato taught us. Weak-spirited people will choose their safety in the dark, while those who are blessed with faith search for light, becoming genuine messengers of freedom in their lifetime. Those who close the doors on a child at its conception should know that this is how they turn the light of life on themselves.

Walter William Safar

Source by Walter William Safar

from Home Solutions Forev https://homesolutionsforev.com/its-a-wonderful-life/ via Home Solutions on WordPress from Home Solutions FOREV https://homesolutionsforev.tumblr.com/post/184546720115 via Tim Clymer on Wordpress

[homesolutionsforev]

It's A Wonderful Life

Sadly, many pro-choice advocates tend to label their counterparts primitive believers. It would seem that, to such 'progressive' people, all practices who oppose abortion are but lower species, and their faithful are merely a primitive herd. However, they do not dare to take a look at the man in the mirror, which is proof of hypocrisy and primitivism. Who is displaying a lack of tolerance in this story? Do not they say that a lack of tolerance is typical of primitivism?

What is the definition of primitivism? Every person must decide for themselves, because every person has been privileged on occasion, sooner or later in life (and by this I do not mean being in the cradle as a child, because this is where we are at our most tolerant). We should really think about it: if faith fosters love, compassion and kindness towards the other in people, then those who call all of this primitive must be the most primitive of all. Love connects people, hatred tears them apart. Each person, as a free individual, is entitled to free opinion, and life should be the judge of who's right and who's not. But how are we expected to get an answer from life if we kill it to begin with?

I do not know much about victories, but there is on thing I am sure of: compassion is the greatest of victories of the human spirit. I am writing from my own experience because, as a youth, I was a skeptic blinded by myself, by raw lust, alcohol, drugs, cynism, arrogance … and one day I arrived at the very edge of life. I thought I should simply leave this world because I never became as famous as I expected. I cheated on women who sincerityly loved me due to raw lust, and then I felt His hand on my shoulder. Even if you think that your aimless straying is over, know that you've only started off on the right path. , and it will take you into the hearts of many. Be the voice of those in need, be the voice of love, be the voice of freedom, and you will turn yourself and others into better people through your versions. "

Since that day, I feel much happier and fulfilled, not because I think that I'm special or free of sin, but because I realized that I am just a sinner who really wants to better himself, and I can safely say that there is a higher holy force that makes us better. I do not know what He looks like, but I do know He exists, with all my heart and soul. I will not attempt to look for Him here or there, because He teaches me that whenever you're doing good to others, He is within you. Ever since then, I have learned that faith accounts for a strong spirit, which is any person's best ally in times of temptation, because weak-spirited people will be the first to fall. Who is falling?

Those who fail to show compassion for others;

Those who are ready to rebuff themselves for the sake of power and money (such people become slaves to greed);

Those who hate more than they love;

Those who want to rule over nature (A person can only feel all the enchantment of nature if they love it as they love themselves, and in synergy with nature – the sun and the wind – people will create energy that will take them into space, to shake brotherly hands with other creatures of God);

Those who want to clone stem cells to create human beings in laboratories, while at the same time there are millions of people dying of hunger (We know that a human being is only complete with emotions, which comes from the soul that can never be created by another human);

Those who hope that hunger will decimate humanity, because there is too much people in this world anyway (If that happens, the cloned man shall rule, and tears, laugh, sorrow, hope and faith will be gone, as well as humans with souls );

Those who attempt to cure the emptiness within with futile lust (To love is to place our happiness in the happiness of another – Leibniz);

Those who are afraid of solitude (of the man in the mirror);

Those who consider the faithful to be primitive.

Many people like to play with statistics, but I say that those who are slaves to statistics are slowly losing the most important thing that makes them human – their emotions. Yes, life teachers us that the day we master our own emotions, we lose them forever. And, regardless of statistics, we have to listen to our hearts, which tell us that faith does not teach us anything bad. Is faith in compassion a bad kind of faith? Is helping those in need a bad kind of faith? Is faith in love a bad kind of faith? Is faith in the idea that every living being has the right to live a bad kind of faith? I will allow myself to quote a great comment by a forum member at a Croatian news portal: "Those who claim that there are ten thousand abortions a year due to a" bad social situation ", rape (or forced sex in marriage), or Medical indications during pregnancy, are fools. Most of these abortions are performed on the younger female population. These are mostly young girls who get pregnant, and then their mothers, who are around 40 and do not want to become grandmothers, drag them to the doctor to have an abortion. The worst thing is the fact that many of them have several abortions. The fact that it's almost like going to the dentist is shameful.I am sickened by this society's hypocrisy. long ago. Would any pro-choice coordinators dare to say – in public, and on that particular day – that it's acceptable to have an abortion if tests show that the child will suffer from Down's syndrome. reason, among ot hers! And it is legal. The test is performed during week 11 of the pregnancy, so that the pregnant woman may have an abortion in case of bad test results, as abortion is legal up to week 19. What is the difference between such a pregnant woman and the Nazis, who considered the ill to be degenerate and freaks that should be extinguished? "

Why am I so touched by this unfortunate abortion story? Because I am an extramarital child of a poor mother with a rich soul. My late mother told me at her deathbed that my mother was a great dreamer, and that I must have inherited that trait from her. Grandma acknowledged that her young daughter was abandoned by her partner, who left her behind pregnant, with the promise that he would return for her as soon as he makes some money up north in the Big Apple, and he would take her to paradise, but she never heard from him again. Grandmother tried to talk her into having an abortion, because they were barely able to survive, even without a child, but at that point she joined her hands in prayer and, looking up, she said: "Thank God, she would not listen to me … your mother is a hero, she took up the toughest of jobs to be able to raise you … and when social services wanted to take you away and give you up for adoption to a wealthy couple from a big northern city, she said that it would happen only over her dead body! "

My mother drew her indomitable strength from the Texas prairie. She always standing upright like a cactus, she withstood the winter, the wind, the drafts – to cut a long story short, the capricious winds of destiny never drove her to her knees (sadly, the man who left her pregnant and left off to New York was a weak-spirited coward, even though he was Texan). When I went to football games as a youth, I used to compare the football coach to my mother. I remember the words of the late coach, who was adored by the fans almost as if he was a saint. He himself was a fan of the working class, and he used to tell his players: "We always have to think and play from game to game, because this is the credo of the people of this city. we live in. People have to fight in order to survive. we can not let them down. What we feel when we take the field is not pressure … Pressure is when these people go home missing the money to feed their kids. "

Yes, my mother was from a poor family, but her soul is noble, and that's why I'm always proud to say that my mother is blue-blooded and nobility, because there is no greater nobility than love. I can proudly claim before the world that I have inherited my love of the earth, not just the golden Texas prairie, but our one only planet Earth, from my mother. SACRIFICE, modesty, humility, respect, hard work, faith … that's the motto, not just of my humble family, but of most people across the proud Texas prairie. There is no government or money that could keep me from fighting for nature, and this is also why I fight against bankers, oil corporations, greedy dictators, political castes (by this, I do not mean political visionaries like myself, who fight to save nature) because, lest we forget, global warming is not a natural process, but a product of human greed. I remember my mother singing the old "Tennessee Waltz" to me when I was a kid. If you listen to the immortal Patti Page, you will know the kind of singing voice my mother had when she was young. I'll never forget watching her sing and look through a small window into the distance, like a golden bird locked in a cage. But instead of her, her baby bird left the cage and flew off into the world in his early youth. What sacrifice it must be to voluntarily impersonate your youth and beauty into a small dark room for the sake of your child, I think while wistfully looking at a pale family photo. One Christmas Eve I asked her if she ever considered an abortion, and she looked into the distance and said in a tired voice: "I must admit that there were moments when I blamed all my troubles on God, but my faith was stronger .. My faith kept me from falling, and an angel who whispered to me that I should look for work as a cleaner in the maternity ward. Those newborn children have the strength to stand up and fight. Yes, son, there were troubled times. ahead, but I saw an ocean of craving in your big blue eyes that made it worth living for … "

After listening to this story, I often thought how great it would have been if all the newborn children had mothers like that. I never turned out to be wealthy, or a great politician, but I wrote some poems, novels and plays that made it worth to live. After all, who gave us the right to decide whether to have an abortion or not ?! It's not important what kind of country or family a child is born into, it may still become a great journalist, poet, actor, philosopher or humanist politician some day, someone who will make the world a better place to live. Or else, they might become the most important thing – a simple honored human being.

Yes, life is wonderful in deed, and when you think that there is no way out, just remember Frank Capra's classic movie "It's a Wonderful Life". The younger generation should watch that movie in school, because the movie, with acting virtuoso James Stewart, teaches us that life is worth fighting for even when you think that there is no way out and, what's most important, how to remain human. Yes, this movie proves the positive power art can have on the human soul, and this is why the world should pay more attention to art that enriches all the values ​​that make us human. Literature and motion pictures with noble messages deserve more attention from people, instead of slavery to raw profit.

It is common knowledge that every person has the freedom to choose between good and evil. When I read a true story about a homeless man in New York, who found a bag full of money and returned it to the owner, I was proud to be human, but when I read that the same man became homeless due to bankers' greed , I am accused of being human. It is interesting to find out that the same story happened twice, in the USA and in Croatia. When journalists asked the Croatian homeless man in Split why he returned the money, he just shrugged and humbly replied: "Even though I lost everything, partly because of my own mistakes, and partly because of the bank's usuries, all I want is to remain a faithful and honest man. " Yes, this man is a hero of mine. Of course, I do not promote poverty. I want to be successful, but I do not want to lose my soul in the process. I always vote for capitalism with a human face and a human soul. Yes to success, but no to greed! This is my life's motto, lest we forget that greed is a disease much more dangerous than the pest or cholera. The Croatian political caste is proof of greed being a dark bottomless pit. Imagine a small and beautiful country blessed by mother nature, with a thousand islands and a clear azure sea, fertile lowlands and paradise green valleys, yet with many thousands of people, both old and young, going through garbage bins because of the political caste's greed. Now try to imagine how endless the politicians' greed is: kind people who want to donate food to the poor must pay taxes to the state on any food or other goods they donate to the poor. Thus, the paradox is that it is easier to just throw away the food into garbage than to donate it to the poor. This political caste (the "reformed" communist party) is not satisfied by millions paid in bribery by "investors", or by selling state-owned companies with brand names for peanuts, like insurance companies and banks, and other malversations. No, they simply must steal whatever little the paupers have left. Is not greed really an accursed disease? It does not simply destroy the body, no, it also destroys the human soul. It is a dark bottomless pit that can never be filled, and it feeds on human souls. This is what my noble mother taught me. She would never allow herself to be separated from the family brooch she inherited, displaying a smiling Christ figure. There are many people who look down on people like her, and they think that gold credit cards give them the right to consider them the betters of the poor faithful. Well, they're wrong! The worst kind of poverty is the poverty of the spirit. Those who are working their way towards power and money, looking down on the faithful, should know that those who ridicule faith are those who call His name the loudest on their deathbed. I do not support fanaticism in anything, and certainly not in faith, because the Creator teachers us that tolerance and love for others is the best way towards faith. So, even when I criticize greedy people, I do not hate them. Instead, I am doing it from the depths of my soul, hoping for them to see the world through the eyes of the faithful someday.

History teachers us that even the greatest among unbelievers experienced a sincere conversion at the end of their lives (and I do not mean Pharisees). On his deathbed, Jean-Paul Sartre said to his best friend: "You know, Francois, I was a great skeptic all my life as far as faith is concerned … but there must be a higher deity that enriches the human soul with all those values ​​I was searching for like a castaway on the ocean of temptation … "

Yes, and I would add: taking a step at a time on the path to true freedom is not easy, as the great Plato taught us. Weak-spirited people will choose their safety in the dark, while those who are blessed with faith search for light, becoming genuine messengers of freedom in their lifetime. Those who close the doors on a child at its conception should know that this is how they turn the light of life on themselves.

Walter William Safar

Source by Walter William Safar

from Home Solutions Forev https://homesolutionsforev.com/its-a-wonderful-life/ via Home Solutions on WordPress

[nileshisdied]

As Stuart Levine observes, “It is fair to say that in most of his stories which raise moral issues, Poe’s concern is focused elsewhere.” Edgar Poe: Seer and Craftsman (DeLand, Fla.: Everett/Edwards, 1972), p. 181.

In these and similar tales Poe’s interest centers on the processes of detection, leaving the moral issues of the crimes either largely unaddressed or curiously deflected.

Edward Davidson, for example, observes that “Poe removed all moral and religious considerations as far as possible from any social code or body of religious warrants.” Operating in a universe in which there is “no other god but the self as god,”4 each of the characters “in Poe’s moral inquiries is his own moral arbiter, lodged in a total moral anarchy. Society has invented law and justice, but these are mere illusion and exact no true penalty.”5 Similarly, Vincent Buranelli insists, “Poe does not touch morality. Although his aesthetic theory admits that goodness may be a by-product of art, he himself does not look for it. Sin and crime are absent from this part of the universe; and the terrible deeds that abound there are matters of psychology, not of ethics.”6

Thus, to deflect the significance of a crime from the social and moral to the psychological has a specific social and legal meaning, most apparent in the instance of an insanity defense. Such deflections, in fact, were a significant part of a controversy over the use of the insanity defense in the first half of the nineteenth century, particularly in the early 1840s. Three stories from this period—“The Tell-Tale Heart” (1843), “The Black Cat” (1843), and “The Imp of the Perverse” (1845)—especially invite a reading in the context of the insanity-defense controversy because each of the three tales includes a self-defensive, insane murderer whose story is told within the processes of legal justice.7 The stories suggest that Poe’s narrowed focus on the aberrant psychology of the accused criminal, for whatever it owes to his aesthetic theory, general “otherworldliness,” and private demons, also has a locus in specific jurisprudential issues of his day. Poe’s familiarity with the scientific/medical accounts of insanity of his day has been well established,12 and his awareness of the issues of the insanity-defense controversy can be linked to two specific cases in which the defense was employed, both occurring in the environs of Philadelphia where Poe resided between 1838 and 1844, and both featuring the same attorney, Peter A. Browne, who “had distinguished himself … for his great subtilty and deep metaphysical research in the matter of insanity.”13 In the first of these, James Wood was acquitted on the grounds of insanity of the deliberate murder of his daughter. Lengthy accounts of the trial appeared daily in the Philadelphia Public Ledger from 24 to 30 March 1840, and a comment at its conclusion appearing in the 1 April 1840 issue of Alexander’s Weekly Messenger has been attributed to Poe.14 The importance of the Mercer case for Poe’s fiction, however, may be less its notoriety and lurid details than the fact that insanity was made the primary grounds of defense.18 A complete transcript of Browne’s opening remarks on the defense was printed on the front page of the 31 March 1843 issue of the Philadelphia Public Ledger. In light of the likelihood that Poe read them, Browne’s arguments are interesting and significant because they include a fairly thorough synopsis of the main legal, medical, and philosophical issues underlying the insanity defense. They also reflect the terms of the controversy surrounding its increased use. Thus, at the very least, Browne’s remarks provide a window on the public consciousness of the insanity defense—for both Poe and his readers—during the time in which “The Tell-Tale Heart,” “The Black Cat,” and “The Imp of the Perverse” were written and published.19

In “The Black Cat” this attempt at rational explanation also reveals a pattern of madness that in certain respects parallels the monomania in “The Tell-Tale Heart.” In the narrator’s perception of the images of a cat on the wall of the burnt house and of a gallows on the breast of Pluto’s successor, both of which he interprets as signs of a demonic persecution, we may recognize elements of delusion.

Clearly there is an imbalance in the narrator’s makeup. His exceptional sweetness can find a reciprocating perfection of fidelity and kindness only in the mindless devotion of animals. Although no “wild beast” himself, the narrator ironically exhibits his monomania in attributing the values of both good and evil to the bestial. It is in this regard that the play of issues recognizable in the insanity-defense controversy becomes particularly interesting. The narrator, by his own account, is driven to his crimes by an irrational compulsion which he calls “the spirit of PERVERSENESS.” This spirit, “one of the primitive impulses of the human heart—one of the indivisible primary faculties, or sentiments, which give direction to the character of Man,” is defined as a principle of negation, the “unfathomable longing of the soul to vex itself—to offer violence to its own nature—to do wrong for the wrong’s sake only.” That this “irresistible impulse” has nullified his will against the dictates of a still viable conscience is manifest when he hangs Pluto, as he says, “because I knew that it had loved me, and because I felt it had given me no reason of offence;—hung it because I knew that in so doing I was committing a sin—a deadly sin that would so jeopardize my immortal soul as to place it—if such a thing were possible—even beyond the infinite mercy of the Most Merciful and Most Terrible God” (p. 852).

[l-in-c-future]

Worldviews and the discourse of history 2d: Two heavens view

Going back to my 2a previous post about the Eternal Love TV series, it was an interesting example showing how folklores, fairy tales about deities reflected people’s views of politics and societies in their imagination. The TV series was adapted from a novel  To the Sky Kingdom (in English) by Tang Qi. 

In this Sky Kingdom, there are different tribes but the main antagonistic forces are those categorically belong to the heaven tribes and non-heaven tribes. The Heaven tribes are made up of the dragon clan, the nine-tails fox clan and the phoenix clan. Under the non-heaven tribes are the wings (or ghost) clan, the demon tribe (already eliminated at the beginning narrative of the TV series), the mermaid clan and mortals. The heaven tribes and non-heaven tribes do not mingle with each other as the norm. At the worst time of their relations, wars were fought, typically because either the demon tribe, the wing clan and the mermaid clan rebel against the ruling of all universes. Mortals are the most filthy low capabilities and wisdom creatures. If they want to ascend to become a non-mortal form of life, they must go through vigorous trainings as well as to pass the test of suffering through many Kalpas as described in 2b-2c before they could be promoted to become a junior god/goddess in the heavenly tribe. After becoming a non-mortal, all creatures continue to practice and strengthen their supernatural capabilities for the promotion to the next higher rank through the Kalpas. A clear and vigorous class/caste system exists within the Sky Kingdom. 

The lowest class of these creatures serves as maids and servants in the heaven palace. The most noble class is the ruler of the Nine Heavens and his royal families. In this Nine Heavens, the Heaven Emperor rules by rigid and harsh legalism. Everything is strictly enforced according to the rules of heaven. Anyone being caught of not following the rules of heaven will surely be punished and the punishment they receive depends on the gravity of the breaches. Nobody can be exempted, even the Crown Prince. The justification of strict adherence to the heaven’s laws is to maintain a balance of the universe and the fates of creatures of all realms. The disturbance of such balance will bring chaos in the universe.

Also known as Emperor Lord, one of the oldest five Great Kings of Heaven. He is the ultimate guardian and judge for all  cases involving the heaven’s laws. He is revered by many, but is indifferent to the admiration of any goddess he receives. He does not care about anyone or anything, until the youngest princess of the Fox Clan enters his life and deeply fallen in love with him. However, they could not be together as he had erased his name from the three lives stone (stone that foretold the love destiny and love matches of all beings in the universe).  In order to maintain his absolute impartiality in executing the justice of the heaven’s laws, the Emperor Lord must not be related to anybody. An eternal life of bachelorhood is his trademark.

Life in the Nine Heavens is prescribed by the observation of extensively elaborated rituals, etiquette and procedures that prescribed details of how people behave and wear or live every ‘day’ in the heaven. Inside the harem of the royal family’s palaces, there are severe competition of palace politics between the goddesses to gain favour from the Heaven Emperor and his sons, especially the Crown Prince. Being chosen as one of the concubines of the Emperor or the Crown Prince means a ticket pass for promotion in the class, eventually depends on how much the Emperor and the Prince are attracted by and favoured these women. The Consort becomes the ultimate Queen in heaven. However, this is strictly decided by pre-arranged marriage between the most royal clans within the heaven tribes for the sake of maintaining the balance of power in heaven. In this story, the pre-arranged betrothal was between the Crown Prince of the Nine Heavens and the Queen of the Nine Tails Fox Clan.

Parallel of the Nine Heavens is a Shangri La paradise where the fox and the phoenix clans live. This is a piece of 10 miles of all seasons round peach blossoms in the valley of the green hills. It is ruled by the Fox King and his children and descendants. The current ruler is his youngest daughter, the Fox Queen. The eternal beauty of this paradise is sustained by a phoenix, the first and the oldest one since the creation of the universe.  He keeps out of the affairs of the eight realms, choosing to guard and nurture the ten miles of peach blossoms he planted. He is excellent at wine brewing and also possesses remarkable medical skills.

In contrast to the legalistic life in the Nine Heavens, life in the green hills is free to explore, free to work, as well as free to play. Happiness is the first criteria because the foxes and phoenix clans are famous for their sassy and forthright personalities. The apex icon is the fox Queen, despite her highly revered beauty and the seniority among all heaven tribes, she just loves living out to the maximum of her free roaming style as a fox, a very naughty fox when she was young, most of the time. Even though the fox and the phoenix tribes possess great supernatural powers, they never use any of the magics in daily life. Everybody works as a normal mortal in the absence of wars. The Queen considers that life will become too boring and empty if everyone just exercise their immortal powers to accomplish everything. Out of this philosophy, she always sneaks out to the mortal realm alongside with her elder brother and her niece to find funs and adventures.  Occasionally, she will trespass to other dangerous realms (such as the wing clan territory as they are plotting to overthrow the Emperor in the Nine Heavens) because of her poor directional sense. Nevertheless, blessed by her indescribable beauty and her characters, she steals the heart of almost every man she meets, all deeply attracted by her and eventually fallen in love with her even though sometimes the other party belongs to the antagonistic side. Love affairs in this paradise are characterised by eternal loyalty and faithfulness to only one mate.

It is in this background that her adventures start and her three lives’ love life stories began and ended with her eternal lover- the Crown Prince of the Nine Heavens. 

In the first life: he was a golden lotus (being the younger twin son of the Father God, his mother died from the first heaven war with the demon clan after she exhausted all her energies. She could only give birth to the elder twin with a body form. The Father God collected the spirit and soul of his unborn younger son in a golden lotus nurtured by his elder brother at Kulun Mountain. He was awaiting the right person to be incarnated in a body form) while she was just a young naughty fox princess disguised herself as a young man learning and sharpening her heaven capabilities at Kulun Mountain. One of her most favourable activities at Kulun Mountain was to take care of this golden lotus. The lotus transformed itself into a human shape spiritual figure whom developed a deep acquaintance and affection with the fox princess because of her caring and tendering. In this form, she cannot see him because he was a spiritual being without a body form.

In the second life: the golden lotus has reincarnated himself into the womb of the wife of the eldest son of the Emperor in the Nine Heavens. At birth, he becomes the designated next Crown Prince and the parents of both side had sealed their marriage though they hadn’t met each other yet. 

In this life, the fox princess fought a lonely battle in the second heaven war between the Heaven Tribes and the Wing Clan. In the previous war, the Wing clan lost, resulting in the imprisonment of the king inside a bell captivated by a magic seal. However, the seal would be broken in 70,000 years’ time. Unless someone reinforces the seal to keep the wing king in captivity, the released wing king would revenge by summoning all his evil powers to burn all realms in the universe. The fox princess is the only person who inherited her late master’s skills to reseal the wing king inside the bell. 

After the battle, the fox princess was able to strengthen the seal yet she was cursed by the wing clan king. She lost her heavenly beauty, the supernatural powers and the memory. She was thrown to a remote mountain to live as a mortal.  Out of a very incidental encountering, the fox princess met the Crown Prince in one of the caves where the latter was temporarily injured after a battle with a monster in the region she lived. Because of the injury, the Crown Prince could not transform back to his humanoid form, he was hiding in his minimized true form-a little black dragon. As a mortal, the fox princess could not recognize the immortal nature of the dragon. She mistook it was just a poor little injured black snake. She took the creature home to tender it for 3 months. During which, the Crown Prince was deeply impressed by her endearing caring. He  fell in love with her and eventually married to her.

However, the great difference in class and species makes it extremely hard for them to be together. A normal mortal will never be accepted in the Nine Heavens. If the prince is found falling in love with a mortal, he will be punished by the heaven emperor while his mortal lover will be instantly killed. For this reason, he tried to hide her existence and worked out with a plan to fake a death of himself in order to escape from the role of Crown Prince. Unfortunately, his plan failed. The fox princess was eventually captured and being taken to heaven awaiting the death penalty. Her life was only spared because the heaven emperor was informed that she was pregnant, inside her womb was the great grandchild of the Nine Heavens. i.e. another generation of the Crown Prince. 

Despite this, she was despised by ALL creatures in the Nine Heavens as a filthy low class mortal. For numerous occasions, the concubine of the Crown Prince wanted to set her up so that she would be harshly punished by breaching various heavens’ laws. In one of her plots, the concubine successfully convinced the heaven’s emperor to believe that the fox princess wanted to injure and kill her. Eventually, the Crown Prince sets off the troubles by scooping out her eyes to pay back the concubine’s lost sight in order to keep her alive. 

Having experienced the cruelty and dangerously dirty politics in the Nine heavens palace, the fox princess lost all her hope of having any happy future with the Crown Prince. She decided to suicide soon after her baby son was born. A great leap into the slaughter well (which kills all forms of lives), she meant to return to the mortal realm. Indeed, she didn’t even know the well kills. She was just tricked and deceived by the concubine that she could return to the mortal realm by doing so. Surprisingly, she wasn’t killed. In the process of the leap, the curse spell of the wing king was broken. The fox princess regained all her supernatural powers and memories before she fell unconscious. After being rescued by the old phoenix, she decided to re-erase all her memories in her mortal life as she didn’t want to remember all the sweet, sour, bitter and sad things relating to the Prince.

At the other side, devastated by the suicide of the fox princess, the prince followed suit to leap into the slaughter well. It took him months to recover from the severe injury. In the next 300 years, he exhausted all his means and efforts awaiting for the reincarnation of his dead mortal wife.

In the third life: After experiencing the sufferings of Kalpa in her mortal life as well as the lonely battle with the wing king, the fox princess had long promoted to the most senior rank of goddess among all the heavenly creatures. She is also the current ruler of her paradise kingdom: the Fox Queen. All creatures in heaven are longing for the formal wedding of the Queen and the Prince, only that she has completely forgotten anything about him in her former life. The Prince needed to re-court his lover and hopefully she might forgive him for the lost of eyes.

Before that, the Prince also needed to experience the mortal life Kalpa because he had a minor breach of one of the heaven’s laws during a battle with some monsters and beasts. Apart from that, he has to go through a big Kalpa because he is the next appointed person to permanently defeat the wing king and to eliminate the wing clan once and for all so that they cannot destroy the universe. However, this comes with prices of two deaths in two lives of the Crown Prince. The first death in the mortal realm after his short mortal life ends serving the Nine Heavens’ punishment for the minor breach of the heaven’s laws and the second death through surrendering his own soul as a life sacrifice to permanently destroy the soul of wing king (in this way, the wing king will not able to reincarnate). It takes him 3 years to reborn his soul and to resurrect from the second death before he could finally reunite with his lover of his three lives’ love: the Fox Queen.

If fairy tales and folklore describe people’s cosmetic views from where they live and how they live, how does this fairy tale inspires you about lives on earth that shaped two distinct heavens from differences in societies?