#its not enough that we are born completely innocent and free of sin

[what-breaks-my-heart]

Mouse - Nature vs Nurture?

In the beginning, I wondered whether the main theme of this drama is about the concept of nature versus nurture.

It’s pretty straightforward. You have 2 kids born with a psychopath gene (don’t question the science here). 1 kid lives with a doting mother, but he grows up as the son of an infamous serial killer, Headhunter.

Whereas the other kid lives with an ‘evil’ stepfather who clearly favours his own children, with his mother tried to kill him once. All kids at the school keeps calling him a weirdo, because, well, he is a bit of an antisocial.

As you can see, both kids live in a controlled setup. Both grow up being perceived as the outcast. But the way their family treat them is different, so you can see if that kind of a difference plays a part in the outcome, i.e., whether or not they become psychopaths.

This is a clear set up by the writer for the theme of nature vs nurture.

I’m not going to go into details of what happened throughout the entire drama because hoo boy there’s a lot to unpack in this drama. As what Mortred, the phantom assassin says:

“Don’t blink, or you’ll miss me.”

 When the truth has been revealed, I keep asking myself if the whole fiasco would have happened had the experiment not been conducted by OZ, led by Choi Young Shin, the Presidential Chief Secretary, who wields great power and influence over governmental bodies.

Sure, the question of whether or not the government should be allowed to enforce mandatory abortion on fetus that carry the psychopath gene sparks a heated debate. I am not even going to bother to spare my brain cells to the question.

But here we have Young Shin, who dreams of a utopia free of war and crime, and to achieve her dream, she believes that eliminating psychopaths is of utmost priority.

So we have the whole experiment being secretly funded and operated under her authority. The modus of operandi is simple. Observe the three kids born with psychopath gene (yes, there were three of them), get experts to analyse their behaviours, and present evidence that people born with psychopath gene are monsters who deserve to be eliminated from the moment they are in the womb.

However, the experiment faced some challenges along the way. First, Yo Han was ruled out from being a psychopath. Secondly, despite the various aggression that Jae Hoon/Ba Reum displayed as a kid, he never go as far as actually harming other people. Only Woo Hyung Chul (the third kid) showed positive result for the experiment.

Frustrated by this, OZ decided to throw a bait to Ba Reum by feeding him intel on the whereabout of Su Ho, the perpetrator who ‘accidentally’ killed his family when he was a kid. Sure enough, Ba Reum took the bait and tortured Su Ho in the same way his family members were killed.

...”fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth...”

From that moment onwards, Ba Reum started to go on a killing spree, before completing his grand show of serial killing, by choosing to judge and punish people who refused to commit the seven deadly sins.

What bothers me is this, would Ba Reum have gone on a killing spree if he was not put in the environment he was set in? Would he have started killing people if he was not given the right stimulus?

His predator instinct was awaken after killing Su Ho. He blamed the deity for not answering his prayer as a kid for him to not become a monster. He was triggered to kill Su Ho, and he blamed the deity for letting him to become the monster he was becoming.

In a way, you can argue that Jae Hoon/Ba Reum was also a victim of the cruel experiment. We saw how as a kid, Jae Hoon resolved to live a fake life by wearing a mask of the kindest and the most righteous kid in the world. This was after acknowledging that he could not continue to demonstrate aggressive behaviour if he wants to live as a normal kid whose achievements, whose presence is celebrated by the people around him, just like the little annoying transfer student kid who took away his position as the first kid in the class (yes, it was Yo Han).

Deep in its core, when you finally untangle the twists of the red thread of fate intertwining between the lives of Jae Hoon and Yo Han, the story of Jung Jae Hoon/Ba Reum was about a kid who was given a side eye as a kid just because he was born different than the other kids. The kid desperately prayed to the deity to not become a monster, and when he believed his prayer was not answered, he decided to rebel against the deity by mocking deity punishment and the whole concept of the seven deadly sins.

Do I pity him? Yes. Do I wonder if his life would have been different had the OZ not orchestrated his life? Absolutely. Do I condone his killing innocent people whom he deemed as sinful just because they refused to commit the seven deadly sins? No.

I can understand his motive, and how the situations he was put in made him the monster he was. His entire life was basically a torture, a living hell.

But, after the entire ordeal, and when he finally accepted that the deity did answer his prayer, albeit much later than he had expected (and in the most unexpected way), he was finally able to shake free from the cruel experiment, feel deep remorse for his sin (which he was not capable of doing before), and rest in peace.

[hysterialevi]

Hagall - A Sigurd/Male Eivor Fanfic

**SPOILERS FOR SUTHSEXE ARC BELOW**

Fanfic summary: After rescuing Sigurd from Fulke's cruelties, Eivor works on helping his brother recover from his trauma.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

KINGDOM OF SUTHSEXE

BAELFRITH

Hair as red as fire. Eyes as cold as ice. A wrath that burned brighter than Surtr’s mythical sword.

The Saxons watched in terror as the Norse warrior carved his way through their settlement, tearing apart its very foundation in an attempt to find the woman who took his arm.

He shouted in a Devilish tongue that none of them understood, and with every guardsman that he cut down, the more the ground seemed to vanish underneath a new layer of blood.

There were fresh corpses scattered all over the village, and due to the flames that ravaged the settlement, most of its people now lay buried beneath a tombstone of ash, their faces frozen in fear as the world around them burned like a pyre.

It was Hell on earth, and only one man had caused it.

“BRING ME FULKE!” The viking roared above all the chaos, swinging his sword into another guard as he headed for the longhouse. “I know she’s here!”

Stomping his way up the hill that led to the longhouse’s entrance, the Norse refused to stop for anything as he stormed through a crowd of terrified civilians, all of them scurrying away in fear upon noticing his presence.

“Flee, everyone!” A Saxon man yelled in horror. “Flee for your lives! The Devil himself is in Baelfrith!”

Ignoring the panicked screams of the villagers, the viking continued on his fervent path for vengeance and planted a firm foot in the door of the longhouse, breaking it free from its hinges as it wildly swung open.

There were only a few people inside -- most notably, the thegn of this settlement -- and with no one around to stop him, the viking hurried into the building, ready to get the information he needed.

Just before he could progress however, a familiar voice called out to the Norse, halting him in his tracks.

“Sigurd!” Eivor exclaimed, jogging up to the man. “Wait!”

The viking turned around to face his brother, his gaze still wild from the recent battle.

“What is it?” He asked sharply, sounding more harsh than he intended.

Eivor furrowed his brow in concern, unable to hide the worry he felt.

“I just...” the younger man took a breath, trying to calm himself down, “...I want you to think about this, brother. Are you certain this is what you want to do? Interrogating Aldrich, I mean.”

The older man obviously didn’t share his partner’s skepticism. “Why wouldn’t it be? Thegn Aldrich can tell us where Fulke is hiding. He’s protecting her. I know he is.”

Eivor’s fear quickly turned into frustration. “And you really think he’s going to help us? After we just burned down his settlement and slaughtered his people? I love you, Sigurd, but this...” he gestured at the destruction around them, “this is not who you are.”

Sigurd stepped closer to Eivor, his figure towering over him.

“Then you haven’t been paying attention.” He said lowly. “We are warriors, Eivor. Sons of Odin. We are born and bred for Valhalla. We do not cower in the shadows like a rat, or hide in the grass like a snake! Fulke wrought every conceivable violation upon me, and so I will not rest until I throw her into the jaws of Garmr myself!”

Sigurd leaned forward, his voice rumbling like magma in his throat. “Either lend me your aid now, or return to Ravensthorpe. I will collect Fulke’s head, with or without you.”

The younger man shook his head in disapproval. “...There is no honor in this, Sigurd. You know that. You are not a barbarian, nor are you a murderer. But you are blinded by your hatred. Listen to me--” Eivor gripped him by the shoulders, “--Fulke isn’t worth it!”

His brother scoffed, shrugging his hands off. “You really think you can judge me? Or must I remind you of all the years you spent seeking revenge against Kjotve? What about when you endangered your crew simply to go after him? My methods may be brutal, Eivor, but do not pretend that you would not replicate them. Your claim to a virtuous disposition is meaningless, for we both know you are no better.”

Eivor sighed in annoyance. “Which is exactly why I know this isn’t worth it! My hatred for Kjotve tore me apart for years, Sigurd. It led me down a path that changed me for the worse, and I do not wish to see you lose yourself either.”

“You weren’t there, Eivor!” Sigurd insisted. “You did not see what Fulke did to me. She...” the man paused for a moment, trying to hold himself together, “...she took... everything from me. My strength, my dignity, my freedom. Fulke is nothing more than a witch in human form, and honor demands that I bring her to retribution. You can fight by my side, or watch from the shadows like a coward. It matters not.” He threw a cautionary glare at the other man. “But do not get in my way.”

Standing there in silence, Eivor watched hopelessly as his brother lost himself in his rage, consumed by a hatred that no one in their clan had ever seen before. He knew the man was hurting inside, and he knew it wasn’t Sigurd’s fault, but to see him lash out in such a violent manner... it broke Eivor’s heart.

Sigurd was a good man. A good leader. He cared deeply for his people, and had already sacrificed so much to keep them afloat. But to witness him undo all of his work in the name of killing Fulke -- a single woman -- Eivor knew he had to stop him sooner or later.

He did not want to fight against Sigurd as Valka predicted he would, but for his brother’s own sake, he feared he would have no choice.

Noticing the abrupt shift in his brother’s mood, Sigurd felt a sudden sense of guilt clutching at his chest as he took on a gentler tone, uttering a brief apology.

“F-Forgive me, my love...” he whispered, “that was... unworthy of me. I apologize. But I fear my point still stands. I can’t just walk away from this. I...” Sigurd glanced down at his amputated arm, doing his best to block out the abhorrent memories that came with it, “...I need to kill Fulke.”

Eivor sighed in defeat, not wishing to argue with his brother any further. “...If that’s truly what you wish, then I will stand by you, Sigurd. All the way to the end.” He placed a hand on the man’s cheek, gazing at him affectionately. “But please... do not forget who you are.”

Sigurd nodded reassuringly. “I won’t.”

Returning to the task at hand, the older man separated their embrace and brought his attention back to the longhouse, eager to get some answers from Thegn Aldrich as Eivor followed from behind. 

At the moment, the elderly nobleman was cowering behind the safety of his throne and had no more than a pitiful dagger to defend himself, somehow enhancing his already pathetic display.

Most of the civilians who once stood by his side had fled the safety of the longhouse, and the closer Sigurd got to him, the more Aldrich’s grasp on the dagger seemed to shake.

“No!” The Saxon cried out in fear. “Leave me be, Dane! Stay back!”

The thegn wildly swung his blade in an attempt to cut Sigurd, only to receive a fist to the face when the viking swatted the weapon out of his grip.

The dagger went flying off to the side and landed on the stone floor with a metallic clang, leaving Aldrich completely defenseless as he backed away from the Norse in panic.

“Filthy fucking pagan...!” He hissed under his breath. “Rendering a man defenseless in his own home -- slaughtering innocents! God will see you punished for your sins, Dane! Whether you believe in Him or not, He will condemn you and all your kind to Hell for the suffering you’ve inflicted on our people! You will--”

“--Enough of your piety!” Sigurd barked, striking the thegn once again.

Eivor flinched at the aggressive action, having to restrain himself from interfering.

“Brother...!” He warned in a hushed tone, causing Sigurd to glare at him.

“Stay out of this, Eivor.” He demanded before returning his focus to the thegn. “...Tell me where Paladin Fulke is! I know you’re hiding her!”

Aldrich stammered out a response. “M-Madwoman Fulke? That’s why you’re here? You wish to find her?”

Sigurd prowled closer to the Saxon, staring him down as a lion would its prey.

“I wish to kill her.”

The nobleman glowered at that. “Lord above... you Northmen and your thirst for violence. Is it any wonder that England crumbles under the hardships of war? We should’ve set you heathens to the torch the minute you set foot on our shores.”

Sigurd instantly raised his sword up to Aldrich’s throat, holding it dangerously close to his skin.

“Watch... your tongue, Saxon. Lest I tear it out through your teeth. Now, tell me where Fulke is! I grow weary of your rambling.”

Still, Aldrich remained obstinate. “That heretic is far away from here, and safely in the hands of God. She is to be tried by true Christians, and brought to justice in an appropriate manner. I will not let her fate fall into the hands of a bunch of barbarians!”

Sigurd gently pressed the blade into his neck, applying just enough pressure so that a few beads of blood began to form.

“...It’s not your decision to make.”

Aldrich nailed his gaze onto the sword, his teeth starting to chatter as small droplets of blood trickled down his skin.

“And who are you to decide, Dane? You who walks among the hellfire. What makes you think you’re any more suited?”

Sigurd grinned darkly. “Is the fate of your own life not already in my hands?”

When the thegn offered nothing but silence in return, the redheaded Norse took a few steps forward, carrying on with his interrogation.

“This is your last chance, Aldrich. Tell me where to find Paladin Fulke, and I might leave enough of a body for your kin to bury. Otherwise, I will personally see to it that my skalds use your bones to beat their war drums. Your head will adorn the tallest pike in my village, and I will spread your lungs into wings so that you may fly with the same birds that feast on your corpse.”

“Sigurd...!” Eivor said once again, causing the man to sigh in frustration.

“What?” He snapped.

“What are you doing?” The younger man questioned. “This is not who we are!”

The viking ignored his brother’s pleas, growing tired of their quarrel. “Enough, Eivor! You may be my brother, but do not forget who is jarl! My word is law, and if I wish for someone to be killed, I expect you to help me swing the sword! Now for the last time, stay out of this...!”

Sigurd turned to Aldrich, impatiently awaiting the man’s reply.

“And you! What say you? Will you tell me where Fulke is? Or shall I take my axe to your spine?”

The Saxon scowled at the Norse, refusing to give in.

“...Devil take you, Dane.” He spat at Sigurd’s feet.

The Norse warrior chuckled at the gesture, his temperament alarmingly calm.

“A foolish idea, thegn.”

Deciding not to hold back anymore, Sigurd suddenly threw a punch at Aldrich’s face and knocked the man flat on the ground, continuing to beat the Saxon as he helplessly crawled away.

“Sigurd!” Eivor blurted out in shock, unsure of what to do.

But the viking didn’t stop. Instead, he simply approached Aldrich and carried on with his assault as the thegn desperately tried to get back up on his feet, latching onto any piece of furniture that would support his weight.

“Sir Regnward...!” The Saxon shouted, calling out to his housecarl. “Cut this Dane down immediately! I want him killed!”

There was no answer.

“Sir Regnward!” Aldrich repeated in his absence, his voice trembling now. “For God’s sake, Cedric, where are you...?!”

Sigurd planted a boot on top of the thegn’s hand, grinding it into the floor.

“Your housecarl is dead, thegn!” He exclaimed, his tone dripping with venom. “He lies outside with a sword buried in his heart, just as you soon will.”

The Saxon whimpered under the pressure of Sigurd’s boot, frantically trying to wiggle his way out of the man’s hold, but to no avail.

“Please...!” He begged, his jaw clenched in agony. “Leave me be...! There’s nothing more I can offer you!”

Sigurd crouched on the floor, staring at Aldrich directly in the eye. “Are you as dense as you are cowardly? Tell me where Fulke is, and all this stops. It’s a simple concept, really.”

But still, the Saxon refused. “If I tell you, they’ll have me hanged!”

“And if you don’t,” The Norse growled, “I’ll do worse.”

Leaning closer to the thegn as he crushed the man’s hand, Sigurd prepared to punch Aldrich again and clenched his fist, only to find himself being dragged away from the Saxon when Eivor suddenly decided to intervene.

“Sigurd!” The younger man said. “Enough!”

The redheaded viking regained his footing, glaring furiously at his brother.

“Eivor! How many times must I tell you to stay out of it?”

“As many as you wish,” he replied, “but regardless, I cannot just stand by and do nothing while you torment these people! We will find Fulke, brother, but not like this. Not ever like this.”

Eivor turned to the fallen Saxon, gesturing to the longhouse’s ruined door.

“Take what people you have left and flee, thegn. There is nothing more for you in Baelfrith.”

Aldrich pushed himself off the floor and gripped his hand in a nursing hold, nodding appreciatively at his savior.

“Bless you, Dane. Bless you...!”

“Do not mistake my mercy for acceptance. If I see you or any of your other people near our clan after this, you won’t be walking away next time.”

It pained Eivor to speak to a defenseless man in such a way, but for the sake of not completely throwing his loyalty for Sigurd out the window, he figured he had to prevent the Saxons from seeking vengeance somehow.

“Oh, you won’t,” Aldrich promised. “I swear it.”

Scurrying off without another word said, the lone thegn hurriedly made his way out the longhouse as Eivor stayed behind, standing amidst all the chaos his brother had sowed.

He wasn’t sure if he did the right thing, allowing Aldrich to escape. The man appeared sincere enough in his promise to leave the Raven Clan alone, but as past experiences would have taught Eivor, no one could be trusted in a time of war.

For all he knew, the thegn could’ve been planning for revenge. He had enough survivors to rally a small fyrd, and it didn’t seem entirely impossible that the man would attempt some sort of retaliation.

Still, despite his uncertainties, the young viking was glad to have prevented further bloodshed. There was no love lost between him and self-righteous Saxons, but regardless, Eivor did not wish to see anymore unnecessary death.

There had been far too much of it already.

Turning back to address his brother, Eivor halted in his steps when he found the sullen man sitting quietly on Aldrich’s throne, his head hanging low in despondency. 

His brow was furrowed in deep thought, and the closer Eivor walked to the solemn jarl, the more he was able to see the exhaustion creasing his lover’s face.

Sigurd didn’t look well at all. 

A grim shadow seemed to loom over the man’s conscience like a dark cloud, and with the sound of wild flames crackling outside, Eivor only wondered how long it would be until Sigurd’s actions reflected the little sanity he preserved.

“Sigurd...?” He said worriedly, kneeling in front of the man so that he was eye-level with him. “Are you well, brother?”

The forlorn viking glanced up at Eivor, his expression heavy with remorse. There was no longer any strength in his face as there was before, and the dark circles outlining his sockets only seemed to harden his gaze.

“...What’s happening to me, Eivor?” Sigurd whispered, his tone devoid of any emotion. “That woman, Fulke... she turned me into a monster.”

The younger man cupped his partner’s face in his hands, looking at him affectionately.

“No, Sigurd...” Eivor comforted, “you are not a monster. Nor are you a saint. You are only human. Like the rest of us.”

The other man chuckled morosely at the statement. “...Human. If only you knew the irony of your words, brother. Fulke spent all our time together trying to convince me otherwise. She believes I am born of the gods. One of the... Ancient Ones. She believes that--”

“--What Fulke believes doesn’t matter.” Eivor insisted. “She’s a madwoman, Sigurd. A snake. And she will do anything she can to twist your mind, regardless of the cost.”

Eivor caressed Sigurd’s cheek, attempting to console the older man.

“But hear me when I say this. No matter how you see yourself, Sigurd -- no matter how long it takes for you to recover from this pain -- remember, you will always be someone who’s cherished among our clan. You will always be my most trusted friend, and my most loved companion.”

Eivor placed a kiss on the other man’s lips, afterwards resting the bridge of his nose against Sigurd’s.

“I love you. And don’t you ever forget that.”

Sigurd brought a hand up to one of Eivor’s arms, holding him gently in place.

“Freyja knows I don’t deserve you.” He replied softly. “After everything I’ve done, I’m not certain I deserve anyone.”

“Don’t say that,” Eivor reassured. “There is still hope for you, Sigurd. You’re not beyond redemption yet. But I can’t heal you by myself. Ultimately, your own recovery rests with yourself in the end.”

The younger man stepped back and rose from the floor, reaching a hand out to Sigurd.

“But I won’t abandon you. From here to Valhalla, I’ll always be at your side.”

The older man grabbed Eivor’s hand, pulling himself up from the throne as the two of them savored a brief moment of peace.

“I know,” Sigurd said earnestly. “And I won’t disappoint you, my love. I promise.”

Walking alongside each other, the peculiar couple removed themselves from the morbid scene and returned to the hellfire outside, prepared to face whatever threats awaited them in the chaos.

By now, the ferocious flames had dug into the very heart of Baelfrith and consumed its soul, leaving nothing but a sea of fire that drowned everything in its path.

There were golden specks of light flickering throughout the pillars of smoke, and with nothing more than a pile of corpses to commemorate the life that once thrived in this settlement, Eivor felt a new sense of grief tugging at his conscience.

All this destruction, all this ruin... it was entirely their fault. So many innocent lives had been condemned within a single day, and the blood would forever stain their hands.

But despite the tragedy, Eivor knew he couldn’t give up. Sigurd’s old self was barely hanging by a thread at the moment, and the younger man feared he would fall without someone there to help guide him.

So, without saying a word, Eivor simply reached over and took his lover’s hand into his grasp, holding him close as they traversed through the flames. 

He didn’t know how he was going to help Sigurd recover from his pain, or the torment that Fulke put him through, but one thing was for certain.

Fulke was going to have to kill Eivor if she ever intended laying her hands on Sigurd again. He would always protect that man at all costs, no matter what happened, and even if it meant he would lose his own life, he was prepared to defend Sigurd. 

All the way to the end.

[letitrainathousandflames-archive]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & CT-7567 | Rex Characters: CC-1010 | Fox, CT-7567 | Rex Additional Tags: post-jedi purge, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Order 66, Order 66 Aftermath, Angst, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, More Hurt Than Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Grief/Mourning, Survivor Guilt Series: Part 11 of Clone Trooper Files Summary:

Fox muses over what happened to him and the other clones after order 66, and an old friend shows up unexpectedly.

Full fanfic below:

-

The only time the clone troopers were recognized and praised for their work was when they were forced to slaughter their generals, their friends. Their only recognition came after the Jedi purge.

After learning of the Jedi’s attempt to the life of the Supreme Chancellor, on democracy itself, and hearing of the clone troopers’ brave choice to stand with the republic - now the Galactic Empire - and kill those traitors where they stood, the people sung praises to the armored soldiers, thanked them whenever they saw one of the soldiers patrolling the streets of Coruscant, and even demanded a statue representing a clone trooper to be placed next to the Senate building.

Commander Fox of the Coruscant guard raised his eyes to the effigy towering in front of him. It portrayed a clone trooper with blaster raised ahead, the Senate building farther ahead behind him as if under his guard. The ground by his feet was littered with clone trooper - stormtroopers, as they were called now - helmets, representing those fallen in the fight to maintain order.

Most people thought the tall obsidian wall behind him had engraved stripes on it, but if one bothered to inspect it closer, they would see that every inch of had been covered in listings of dead troopers.

Fox had been summoned to inspect something that had been target of questions and complains lately - the large aurebesh graffiti on it, painted on a deep blue shade he knew too well, the same of Commander Appo’s unit, the 501st.

The graffiti covered the entire wall, reading: “we are born slaves, we live as slaves, we die as slaves”; Under it, it continued: “the innocent jedi blood will always be in our hands”. And, beneath that, a word was written over and over until the wall was entirely covered in paint:

Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives Fives

Fox looked up at the clone stormtrooper statue, noticing that someone seemed to have taken a hammer and nail to where his right temple would be under the helmet, denting the durasteel and making a circular hole there a few inches deep. He touched his own helmet on the same place, wondering what it all meant.

-

That night, he requested his ARC trooper to cover his shift for him. Unprofessional, yes, but the sight of the statue and the wall left him with what felt like an itch he couldn’t scratch in his brain. Before he could chastise himself for doing so, his feet were carrying him back to the square, now lit by a few streetlamps and completely empty. That part of the city was mostly dead at night – no stores or restaurants there, only the official buildings that were out of duty that late.

Fox was a lonely shadow in the square, staring at the statue – the cleaning commissioned by the government would start the following morning, and soon enough the cryptic message would no longer be there.

Fox noticed someone approaching from his side, and he didn’t know if it was the fact that they were dressed in clone armor or the fact that he did not expect an ambush at this particular situation, but he took too late to draw his blaster, and soon the man was standing in front of him, hands up in a clear demonstration of peace.

It only took Fox a quick glance to recognize the pauldrons and kama, his eyes finally resting at the jaig eyes painted on the white helmet. His hand jumped to his holster, and he quickly drew his blaster, pointing it at the clone’s chest.

“You…!”

“Calm down, Fox.” Rex’s voice came through the speakers of his helmet, that same cadence of every vod’s voice carrying through his words “I’m not here to fight you.”

Fox fixed his grip on his blaster.

“You’re a traitor!”

“No, I am not.” Rex said, reaching for the clasps of his helmet, unsealing it and slowly pulling it off to reveal himself; he looks tired, his previously neatly trimmed blond hair now growing into a fuzz, his face darkened by a five o’clock shadow; there was a scar on his right temple, right where the statue had been damaged “I’m a clone trooper, just like you. And we need to speak, brother.”

Rex tucked his armor under his arm and Fox jerked his blaster forward, pushing its muzzle against Rex’s chestplate with a metallic clink that seemed to echo into the night.

“I’m not your brother, you kriffing traitor!” Fox growled, scowl deepening in his features “You disgraced your battalion, abandoned them at their moment of need! The only way you could’ve redeemed yourself would be dying in battle for your men! You being alive and breathing only means that they died for nothing while you hid away like a coward!”

Fox had his blaster at the ready. He could shoot Rex at any moment, but he believed he owed his fellow vod’e to make sure he died knowing how he had wronged them.

“Appo is still trying to clean the reputation of the 501st after you soiled it with your actions! The messages relayed by Jesse let everyone know that you sided with a traitor Jedi, that you chose her over the republic, over your own brothers!”

Rex did not flinch at the blaster being pressed to his sternum, ready to shoot him point-blank, his eyes remaining focused and calm even as Fox angrily spat at his feet, eyes burning at his brother.

“She had done nothing wrong.” Rex said flatly, tone calm like the one they had been instructed to use in negotiations “Nor have any of the other generals. Much less the jedi and children that my men killed in the temple.”

“We had orders.” Fox said tensely, his eyes narrowing at Rex “Orders we were expected to follow, that you were expected to follow.”

“Obeying questionable orders without question isn’t right, and you know it. We are not droids.”

“We are soldiers! We were bred and trained to follow orders, to obey.” Fox squinted at Rex “When the hells did you forget this?”

Rex sighed, or maybe he scoffed, waving his head.

“When my general in charge ordered me to shoot to kill at my own brothers of the 212th. When he betrayed us and sliced three of my men into bits in front of my eyes. When we were ordered to go back under heavy fire to retrieve a Jedi general’s body so that he could be buried, even if we had to die for it, while the body of his clone commander was left to rot in a ravine.”

Fox shook his own head, looking at Rex’s belt for a moment to see if he was unarmed to then lower his weapon.

“This is part of the job.”

“This is not a job.” Rex said between his gritted teeth “It’s slavery.”

Fox took a couple of steps back, eyes still trained on Rex.

“I don’t have time for your agitator talk, Rex”

“And yet you are listening.”

Fox raised his blaster again, pointing it at Rex’s head and scowling.

“Just tell me what you want from me before I blast you dead.”

Rex stared at him for a long moment, and the two troopers shared that brief silence in contemplation. Fox’s armor was different now, still carrying a few markings that identified him as a commanding officer, but most of his individuality had been stripped. It was a stark contrast to Rex’s armor, the kama on his hips and the tally marks drawn all over his vambraces and helmet, and the jaig eyes above his visor.

Rex turned his head to gaze at the night sky above them.

“That night at the warehouse… All your troopers had stuns in their blasters, except for you.” He lowered his head to look back at Fox “Yours had real heat. Why was that?”

Fox blinks in confusion, frowning. From the very back of his mind, he remembers the chancellor pulling him aside and speaking in a voice that made his brain feel like it had been wrapped in cotton wool.

“I want lethal force to be used on that clone. You must terminate him.”

“Sir…” Fox remember having said “He’s an ARC trooper, Captain Rex trusts him with his life. He offers no danger, he…”

“This is my order to you, as a soldier, and you will follow.”

Chancellor Palpatine’s words made him feel even more detached from himself, and he recalls having mumbled:

“Good soldiers… follow orders.”

“He was dangerous. The ARC trooper-”

“His name was Fives.” Rex interrupts him, sounding angry for the first time

“He had to die! I had to-” Fox frowned, lowering the blaster again and shaking his head

“Even you don’t believe that, vod.”

Fox grits his teeth, eyes going from one side to another.

“It was an accident!”

“That’s more like it.” Rex says like he’s playing a game of clue, leading Fox to a prize he won’t yet reveal “You knew him. Not too well, but you did. We had drinks together, we had joint missions to protect the senators during attacks to Cosruscant, you knew Fives. You knew he was a good man.”

Fox’s head hurts like it’s being squeezed by a wookie, and he hastily pries his helmet off his head, letting it fall to the ground with a dull clatter.

“No. I- I never…” he brings his free hand to his forehead, his throat feeling narrow “I didn’t want to! I didn’t! But my orders… Good soldiers… Good soldiers follow orders, good soldiers… follow… orders…”

“The same thing happened with every commanding trooper, all of them opened fire at the people they had sworn to protect, their generals, their friends. I know, Fox, because I felt it too, all my rational thought being replaced by a visceral bloodthirst that made me fire at my commander and send every trooper under my command after her with orders to shoot to kill. She was my friend, she was… like a sister to me.”

Rex took a step closer, voice fraying at the edges.

“And I know that Appo and every men in Torrent Company would never willingly shoot at unarmed jedi and little children, moons, no matter where in the nine hells the order to do so had come from. They would question, and refuse, and die standing if they had to, but they wouldn’t ever do that atrocity. Boost and Sinker would never willingly fire at their General’s ship. You know them as much as I do, vod! You know it!”

Fox jerks his weapon forward, aims the blaster right between Rex’s brown eyes, his teeth bared and his breath coming in shallow huffs.

“Shut up!” he screams, and his voice carries through the night “Shut up, they had it coming, they…!” he opens and closes his mouth, wetting his lips and moving his eyes around like he’s desperately seeking for an answer that never comes “We had orders, we…!” his finger shakes over the trigger, threatens to squeeze it “KRIFFING HELLS!”

The blaster drops down from his weak fingers, and Fox clutches his head between his hands. Rex hesitates to then walk up to him, reaching for his arm. Fox fought back, wrenching his hand away but Rex caught his wrist, fighting until he could wrestle Fox into a hug, the commander still weakly trying to break free from his arms.

“We didn’t want to… we didn’t…” he gasped, and his sight grew blurry, tears stinging at his eyes and spilling over his cheeks “Manda, none of us did… and we couldn’t stop… we couldn’t…”

Rex holds him with all his might. He remembers the day he punched Fox into a bloody pulp a couple of weeks after he had killed Fives. The inherent bond between brothers that every trooper had for one another no matter what felt like it had been severed between them after the ARC trooper’s death. But after learning of Order 66, of Sidius’ true identity, Rex couldn’t help but feel sorry for the Commander. None of that had been his fault. None of this tragedy was their fault.

Fox seemed to finally had given up the struggle, slumping into Rex’s arms and pressing his face to the captain’s pauldrons, his own shoulders jumping under his sobs.

“It made so much sense back then. We felt proud. Those of us that had successfully… eliminated their target received medals of valor for it.” Fox squeezed his eyes tight, the tears running non-stop now “And just last week… Bly’s men found him in his office, the medal and a holo of General Secura on his desk… he killed himself, Rex! Shot his own head, and I couldn’t understand why, just assumed he’d gone defective… Stars, what have we done…”

Rex shut his eyes in pain, grieving the lost friend. Everyone in the troops knew of Bly and Aayla’s case. He could only imagine how it must have pained him to realize, past the daze of order sixty-six, that he had shot his beloved point-blank like a droid.

“It’s not our fault.” Rex said, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was speaking to Fox or himself “They planted a chip in our brains since our tubes, and it was activated by order sixty-six. We were already doomed even before we were decanted. There was nothing we could have done to stop this.”

Fox cries harder into his arms, and Rex understands; knowing what happened and how doesn’t ease the pain, doesn’t fix what is broken, doesn’t wake the dead. The two men stand there, clone trooper and stormtrooper, and after what feels like several long minutes, Fox pulls back some, discreetly wiping his eyes.

“Leave Coruscant. I’ll turn my back now, and you’ll be gone, copy that?”

Rex frowns in confusion, shaking his head.

“No… No, vod, I came to bring you back.” He points at the scar on his head “We can fix this, we can free you too. You don’t have to stay. You don’t have to serve them.”

Fox leans down to pick up his helmet, hiding his face away under the safety of the white plastoid.

“And then what? I’m not like you, Rex, I’m not strong enough to just… desert the army. This is all I have.”

“We could fight against the Empire! We could fight for what’s right!”

Fox shook his head, and Rex could almost see the disillusioned smile he hid.

“I fought all my life for what I thought was right, and it turned out that both sides were wrong. I can’t bear to go through this again. I’m sorry.”

Rex’s eyes widened, tears collecting at their corners while Fox picked up his blaster, sinking it in his holster again.

“So you would rather continue to be their slave instead?!”

This time it was Fox who looked up to the night sky. He couldn’t remember the last time he had done that – always too busy commandeering his men and watching over his shoulder; it was beautiful, thousands and thousands of twinkling dots shining against the backdrop of endless black.

“Like you said: we are born slaves, we live as slaves and we die as slaves. I’m used to it.”

“But-”

“I can’t wash the blood off my hands, Rex. I hate myself, I hate my vod’e and what we have become, but at the very least, all there’s left for me to do is follow orders and wait for my time to die. It’s peaceful. It’s what I need. Don’t be cruel giving me hope. I can’t stand it.” He sighed heavily, the sound hissing through his speakers “I’ll enjoy the stars a bit more, and when I look back down, I won’t be your vod anymore. I hope you are gone by then.”

Rex merely stared at him for a couple of long minutes before nodding, placing his own helmet on his head again.

“I’ll miss you, brother.”

Fox merely nodded, and soon he could hear the sound of footsteps dying away, followed by the hiss of a jetpack. He sighed, gazing at the stars and feeling thankful for the helmet that hid the tears that streamed down his face.

“I’ll miss you too.”

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

The Not-So-Amazing Mary Jane Part 10: MJ has too much faith in the POSSIBILITY of redemption

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Last time I examined how MJ was repeating Peter’s ‘original sin’ in allowing Beck to not face justice. However I also raised the idea that the situation is different as Beck/his crew are arguably seeking redemption. Does that hold up to scrutiny? Well that’s what this instalment is all about.

At face value the crooks in the story certainly seem like they are seeking redemption.

Beck in particular is trying to make some form of amends and produce something good before he dies. It’s an opportunity he wants to extend to his fellow criminals (along with former felons).

Is shutting down this opportunity really  something Mary Jane would do?

Yep.

Let’s ignore for a moment how MJ’s efforts to help her friend Lorraine failed and she was totally tricked by her. After all Lorraine might’ve been doing something illegal but she was the real victim in that situation.

Instead let’s look at some examples from Spider History where Peter encountered seemingly reforming criminals. 

Black Cat

The most significant is perhaps that of the Black Cat; a.k.a. Felicia Hardy. Mary Jane doesn’t necessarily have an in depth knowledge of the ups and downs of Peter and Felicia’s relationship. But she would know that for a time Felicia was a criminal who reformed into a fellow crime fighter and then betrayed Peter by framing him for a crime. This all came to light in Spec #129.

Felicia reformed again after that and, after a very rough (somewhat violent) start, befriended MJ and became an ally to Peter. One of the key events that led to the thawing of Felicia’s relationship with the Parker family was her aiding a temporarily depowered Spidey. This occurred in ASM #342-343.

In these issues she helped the powerless Spidey defend innocents, protected him personally and bought time for him to regain his powers. These events entailed risking her life, enduring several injuries, losing her own powers (again temporarily) in the process. Specifically she had to single handedly battle a group of villains most of whom were beyond her weight class.

During and after these events Felicia showed signs of sincerely learning to love the Parkers’ friend Flash Thompson and wanting to start a new (costume free) chapter of her life with him. This was particularly notable because she had previously been dating Flash as a way to get back at Peter for marrying Mary Jane.

However, over consequent years though Felicia vacillated between anti-hero and outright criminal. Many people regard some of these takes out of character for Felicia post-OMD. 

However, even before OMD Felicia was still vacillating in her moral alignment. Case in point, in Marvel Knights: Spider-Man #5, Felicia reveals she is working for the gang lord known as the Owl. Although she claims she has boundaries she won’t cross whilst in his employ, Peter is still unhappy with her new job.

The facts are Felica was never consistently on the straight and narrow, a fact Peter and MJ were all too aware of. 

Sandman

Perhaps a more apt example can be found in the case of the Sandman; a.k.a. Flint Marko. In Marvel Team-Up #138 Sandman was trying to go straight. In the course of the story he defended his neighbours from the Enforcers and actively saved Spider-Man’s life in the process. After the battle Spidey presumes there are outstanding warrants for Sandman’s arrest and tries to bring him in.

Sandman calmly explains he’s trying to reform and requests Spidey let him go. Spidey contemplates the idea because Sandman seems sincere but also considers that he’d be repeating the same mistake he made with Uncle Ben. As such he apologetically explains he can’t take the risk and prepares to apprehend Marko.

Unbeknownst to Spider-Man the last crook standing tosses a grenade his way. Sandman warns Spidey and intercepts the blast, both actions saving Peter’s life.

Spidey leaves the scene uncertain if Sandman survived and how to feel about his alleged attempts to reform.

Spidey and Sandman encountered one another again in ASM #280-281. By chance Marko came across Spidey and mercenary Silver Sable at the mercy of several super villains. He once again saved Spidey’s life.

Soon after this Silver Sable officially hired him.  It should be bared in mind that Sable has access to advanced weapons and highly trained soldiers. Perhaps more importantly though, as the ruler of Symkaria she was international political resources. As such it’s likely that Spidey figured Sandman’s outstanding crimes were either pardoned or he was working off his debt to society. And were he to hypothetically get out of line Sable had the resources to reign him in. Later Sandman would join the Avengers, which would be enough for most people to give him the benefit of the doubt, including Spidey or MJ.

Sandman’s alignment with both Silver Sable and the Avengers was a matter of public record. MJ would’ve heard about it just via osmosis; Avengers activities are normally big news after all. Even if she hadn’t, Peter would’ve talked about it because (as discussed in prior instalments) he usually clues her into his super hero life. Sandman being one of the few villains of his to have reformed? That’d not be a topic that’d go undiscussed.

However, for reasons we need not cover extensively, Sandman returned to crime. This too was a matter of public record and MJ was very aware of it since Sandman tussled with Spidey during this time. If nothing else she’d have known he was a villain again from his alliance with Doc Ock in ‘Ends of the Earth’. 

Venom

Another Spidey villain who flirted with reform was of course Venom. There have been many ups and downs in Peter’s relationship with both the Venom symbiote itself and its most famous host Eddie Brock. For the purposes of this essay though we’re just going to be focussing upon events that transpired in the 1990s.

The first of these occurred in ASM #362 where Peter controversially formed an alliance with Venom to stop his sadistic spawn Carnage. Peter banked upon Venom’s sense of justice and desire to protect innocents as a way to gain his aid, but he also had to promise to allow Venom to walk free when their mission was complete.

As it turned out though that was a risk Peter wasn’t willing to take. This was he had secretly plotted for the Fantastic Four to capture Venom once Carnage had been dealt with.

It’s worth remembering that Mary Jane had had a particularly bad experience when Venom first showed up and dealing with him was as much for her protection as for the world’s at large.

At the conclusion of their next encounter (ASM #375), Spidey and Venom made another arrangement. This controversial deal amounted to Spidey allowing Venom to walk free in exchange for Venom staying away from him. Peter’s rationale for this deal was born from a ‘live to fight another day’ mentality as he was exhausted and would’ve likely died had he continued to fight Venom. Mere moments after agreeing to this though Peter tried to tag Venom with a spider tracer.

The very next story though (Venom: Lethal Protector) a recovered Peter tracks Venom down all the way to San Francisco and attempts to bring him in. Peter even acknowledges Venom being a disturbed killer and that his talk of ‘protecting innocents’ is bull.

During the course of the story Venom at times helped Spidey. But more importantly he refrained from killing Spidey (his life’s ambition) and asked for his help in saving countless innocents at the story’s climax. This was enough for Peter to temporarily help Brock again.

During the final battle Venom had no choice but to go through flames; fire being one of the things symbiotes are especially vulnerable to. Spidey is shocked by Venom’s selflessness, especially when Venom commented that Spidey himself would’ve done no different.

At the end of the story Peter tells MJ that he now believes in Venom’s change of heart, but qualifies that he’s returning to NYC in part because he can’t hunt Venom forever.

Essentially these experiences convinced Peter that Venom was sincere in his desire to turn over a new leaf, but that he should still be brought to justice nevertheless.

Inevitably Venom returned to his old ways and from there vacilated wildly in his moral alignment. As one of Peter’s most famous foes Venom’s activities were heavily covered in the news. Peter and MJ would’ve also kept an ear out and kept one another informed due to how personal Venom’s vendetta against them was and how dangerous he was. Basically MJ would’ve been aware Venom was rarely consistently  on the side of the angels. 

Boomerang

Next up we have a much more recent example, Spidey’s roommate Fred Myers, a.k.a. Boomerang. I would ask you to bear in mind that at the time of writing this I have only read up to ASM v5 #36 so events after that issue might further support or undermine my arguments.

One might argue that MJ giving Mysterio and his crew a chance at redemption is no different to Peter doing the same for Boomerang in very recent stories. However, there are very important nuances that differentiate the Peter/Fred situation to the MJ/Beck situation.*

The most important of these was that Myers got a full pardon for all his past crimes following H.Y.D.R.A.’s defeat in Secret Empire.

Boomerang committed crimes after his pardoning, notably robbing a museum. However, for reasons that baffled and concerned Spidey the mayor (Wilson Fisk, the ‘former’ Kingpin of Crime) allowed Myers to escape and even spun his crimes in such a way to exonerate him.

Spidey did let Boomerang initially escape but his rationale was purely because he didn’t know what Fisk wanted. This might seem contentious but it adds up when you think about it. If Fisk were the mayor then apprehending Boomerang would be tantamount to delivering him directly to Fisk, who is a far more powerful and dangerous threat. This logic would then extend to when Myers became Peter’s roommate.

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, especially when bringing them in could potentially help a much worse enemy. In the meantime Myers living with Peter could allow him to monitor him (using a spider tracer) and gather valuable information about what he (and Fisk) were up to.

Peter remains sceptical and lays out his concerns directly to his other roommate Randy Robertson.

In ASM v5 #6-7 Boomerang took Peter (out of costume) to ‘The Bar-with-no-name’ (a hang out for super villains) for a trivia night. One might argue this situation echoes MJ being surrounded by super villains on her film set. But what distinguishes this situation from that one is the safety Peter’s abilities afford. He’s taken on groups of baddies before and most of the ones here are B-listers at best. More importantly though is that this presents an opportunity for Peter to gather valuable information, a fact that is framed as the  reason he sticks around.

True, he also begins to enjoy himself but he also begins to empathise with them through spending time with them. Nevertheless he acknowledges that tomorrow he will be back to trying to catch them.

Peter’s reluctance to turn them in immediately can be viewed as a human flaw on his part. He empathises with the villains up to a point and begins to genuinely enjoy himself. Isn’t Mary Jane allowed to be flawed as well?

Sure she is, except MJ’s ‘flaw’ in AMJ is markedly worse than Peter’s here. In AMJ Mary Jane is complicit in several crimes via her silence and is allowing dangerous crooks with outstanding warrants for arrest to operate freely. Peter might be somewhat in the wrong for not turning them in then and there, but he at least intends on apprehending them eventually and in the interim uses the opportunity to gain information that will over all help combat more crimes. In theory he could simply put a call through to the cops or the Avengers that night. MJ on the other hand seemingly has no plan to apprehend the criminals she’s working with at all.

As the story progresses the Kingpin puts a bounty on Boomerang’s head prompting the assembled crooks to turn on him and Peter. The pair are forced to fight their way to freedom, during the course of which Boomerang  provides some cover for Pete and a weapon to defend himself with.

At a critical point in the battle Boomerang selflessly takes a nasty hit meant for Peter; which leaves the latter shocked and baffled.

After Pete buys a little time Fred follows this up with an exploding boomerang and shoves Peter to safety.

Fred reveals he refrained from using his explosive earlier because he genuinely loved the bar; further exemplifying his sincere desire for companionship. In spite of this Peter still doesn’t regard Fred as redeemed nor reformed. Fred then confesses that he created robot duplicates of his old gang members (known to readers as the Superior Foes) due to missing their companionship and recognizing that his betrayals of them left him lonely. Moving in with Peter and Randy seemed like a second chance to him and Peter, in spite of his better judgment decides to give Fred that second chance.

What differentiates this from what MJ is doing (besides Boomerang not being half as bad as Mysterio and not backed up by a whole crew of crooks) is that Peter is giving Fred this chance after he has actively demonstrated  redeeming qualities.

Fred might  be lying about his desire for companionship (just Mysterio might be lying to MJ about everything else) but Fred didn’t and couldn’t have faked saving Peter’s life at risk to himself.

Actions speak louder than words and in AMJ all Mary Jane has is the word of a notorious deceiver that neither he nor his crew are up to no good and will behave themselves…you know apart from all the crimes he already fessed up to like identity theft.

In fact all of the instances listed above involve the criminals actively demonstrating redeeming behaviour. Typically these have taken the form of risking their lives to protect innocents and/or their enemy Spider-Man.**

However Peter has also not trusted them blindly. 

In Felicia’s case she lost her powers so her ability to commit crimes was reduced and she had saved his life and been a crime fighter enough that it’s likely he felt she deserved yet another chance.*** In Sandman’s case he began working for someone who could arrange for his legal situation to be straightened out and had the means to keep him under control too. In Venom’s case Peter recognized his change for the better but never fully trusted him, merely letting him go because he was physically unable to find him. And in Fred’s case turning him over the authorities could prove worse  than temporarily allowing him to walk free whilst Peter kept a close eye on him.

Mary Jane was either a witness to these incidents or at least would’ve likely heard about them from Peter. As I demonstrated in parts 3-5 Peter shares most of his experiences with Mary Jane. Additionally, her own sense of justice and responsibility is clearly shaped by Peter’s (to some extent).

So in the case of a guy she has no means or monitoring, can’t be sure she’s keeping an eye on because he’s a master illusionist (who literally has highly convincing holograms/robot duplicates), has no reliable means of restraining and has never demonstrated any redeeming actions to her she should NOT be trusting him to go straight; let alone a whole crew of villains…

…But if you are reeaaaaaaaaaalllly still unconvinced…let’s talk about the Black Fox.

The Black Fox

The Black Fox is an elderly gentlemen thief/cat burglar that Peter had an encounter with back in ASM #265. The story ended with Peter learning that the Black Fox’s latest scheme was merely his last after which he hoped to retire and be with his family. In response to this Peter helped the Fox escape, although he recovered the stolen goods first.

Years later in ASM #305 Spidey again encountered the Fox who in fact hadn’t retired. And yet Spidey once again let him go again out of pity.

In ASM #349 he once more found the Fox in mid-crime and let him go again. Afterwards Peter confessed to MJ that this cycle of behaviour with the Fox was deeply upsetting him.

Spidey allowing the Fox to go free once again actually resulted in a major incident involving Doctor Doom of all people!

After a concussion induced conversation with Uncle Ben (a creation of his subconscious) Peter realized his leniency on the Fox was born from a general sympathy for older men (who naturally reminded him of his uncle).

Having resolved his issues Peter was then capable of bringing the Fox to justice.

Mary Jane was obviously aware of this adventure as Peter actively talked to her about her hang ups with the Fox during the course of it, and it would be baffling to believe that he wouldn’t have then told her he brought him in eventually.

If MJ is aware of how Peter’s morality played out here, the repercussions of his leniency on the Fox and  the internal strife caused by letting him go there is no way in Hell she’d make the same mistakes with Mysterio. She doesn’t even have the same excuse as there is no huge trauma from her youth inclining her to be unreasonably sympathetic to Beck or his crew.

The Black Fox is honestly nowhere near as dangerous, manipulative or as unethical as Mysterio. If the Black Fox deserves to face justice for his far less damaging crimes, then Mysterio and his cohorts ethically shouldn’t be given a free pass by MJ or even the chance to do something good before they’ve paid their debts to society either.

The situation with the Fox proves the dangers of simply giving criminals the benefit of the doubt blindly, whilst every other reforming or reformed criminal has either proven themselves somehow or done so within some kind of controlled environment.

That wasn’t the case for the Fox, and it certainly isn’t the case for Mysterio from MJ’s point of view.

Finally let’s talk about one very significant instance that some might bring up to counter all I’ve said above.

Let’s talk about Mary Jane’s father.

Phillip Watson

You will recall in the last instalment I examined how MJ ultimately turned him into the cops for his crimes for the greater good and even at the risk of her sister’s freedom.

Well in the Clone Saga they met again. MJ felt compelled to settle some unfinished family business and thus confronted her sister and then (separately) her father.

For some context not only had her father committed a crime, not only had he exploited MJ’s sister Gayle and thereby caused her to wind up arrested, but in her childhood he had routinely verbally abused both girls along with their mother and physically assaulted Gayle once.

MJ had major beef with her father over this and hadn’t let it go by the time she met up with him again in ASM #292. In said issue she even referred to him as ‘Phillip’ rather than ‘Dad’, father, etc.

It could be speculated that her decision to turn him in might’ve been influenced by this bad baggage. Although she was also uncertain of that due to her attachment to him and possibly perceived guilt over her parents’ break up.

In Spec #219 MJ nervously confronts her father. After making some small talk she is enraged when she sees he’s kept a picture of her mother. She feels that after how he treated her he doesn’t have that right.

However her surprises her when he breaks down in tears admitting he’s ashamed of how he acted and that he’s haunted by how he hurt and abandoned MJ’s mother. MJ connects with this, drawing a comparison with how she abandoned her sister Gayle in her time of need. She even states this to her father.

Spec #119

She manages to emotionally connect with her father and even forgive him. Whilst it’s only a start she feels complete and like in some way she has her family back, which fills her with joy.

You could take this situation and make a strong case for MJ being willing to forgive Mysterio right?

She did it for someone who had been a criminal and personally hurt her and her family in a very serious way. So why wouldn’t she extend that so someone who had also harmed her and her family. Harmed them in ways that might be argued to be not as  bad as her father?

The problem with such a comparison is that it’s not exactly a fair equivalency at all.

To begin with, though he had been a criminal, MJ’s father had served his time and faced the legal repercussions for his crimes. MJ had no hint that he was in the midst of committing any other crimes when she reunited with him, nor that he’d be likely to go on to commit any crimes.

Even the crimes h had committed were far less numerous and far less bad than those in Mysterio’s criminal career. MJ’s father for instance never drugged and sexually violated a teenaged girl or attempted murder. And given his age, health, intelligence and history the chances of him committing further crimes if

Now there was a lot of emotional baggage and pain MJ carried in relation to her father but as evidenced in ASM #292 her feelings towards him were not black and white. A part of her felt some combination of guilt and loyalty towards him. Furthermore, when we learned of MJ’s past in ASM #259, she also revealed that  following their separation, she tried to write to her father a few times.

Why would MJ as a tween/teen do such a thing? Why try to connect with someone who abused her and her loved ones, someone she intellectually knew was bad for everyone concerned?

The sad truth is such things are often happen in real life in similar situations. It is born from an immensely strong natural and innate need  within all human beings to form bonds with our parental figures.****

MJ’s earliest (and therefore some of her most formative) memories involve her father, about how (in her mind at least) she loved him and he loved her. How he was the one man in her life who was supposed to always  love her no matter what.

So even if he wound up far from that ideal, there is still a yearning within MJ on some level for that. Hence her attempts to reconnect with him both in ASM #259 and Spec #219, along with her uncertainty in ASM #292.

And that’s the single most critical difference between this situation and the one with Beck.

Beck is not her father.

She hasn’t got any positive emotional attachment to him (imagined or otherwise) nor is there a potent need  within her to have one.

From her point of view he is simply a very bad and very dangerous person who has done horrible things, has hurt her and hurt the people she cares about.  Someone who is doing something very bad right now  and who stands a very strong chance of consequently doing further bad things that might harm other people (including herself and her loved ones).

Not to mention her father was not a slick professional liar like Mysterio was. MJ has no reason to believe his emotional breakdown is a performance whereas with Beck it’s extremely possible that he is just acting.

There is one other aspect of this example to explore though. Namely how MJ saw herself and her father as kindred spirits. Is it possible she sees herself and Beck in a similar light and thereby affords him the benefit of the doubt? Well, that’s a topic for another time.

Suffice it to say that all the experiences we’ve looked at would give Mary Jane a belief in redemption…but not a blind faith. For her there would have to be particular factors in play to justify such faith in the first place and neither Beck nor his crew fit those factors whatsoever.

Thus MJ would not give them a chance, at least not under these circumstances. In fact, in Mysterio’s case, she wouldn’t give him a chance under pretty much any circumstance. This is because, however much sympathy MJ might hold for the death of a fellow human being, her sympathy would only go so far for Mysterio. It would most certainly not stretch to believing him capable of redemption.

That’s a subject more for next time though.

*There are certain obvious physical differences in these two dynamics, but we’ll discuss those another time. Right now we’re strictly looking at MJ giving Beck and his crew a chance to make good.

**One could argue in saving Peter’s life he owes them at least the chance to prove they can turn over a new leaf.

***Of course we could just say his old feelings for her were affecting his judgement, but obviously that wouldn’t be a factor for MJ and Beck.

****There are countless examples of this within real life and fiction, a particularly poignant example can be found in the Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Will Smith’s character is presented the chance to reconnect with his father who abandoned him as a child and ultimately takes up the opportunity. When his father abandons him again he tries to shrug it off but his anger and grief is immense.

P.S. I shouldn’t have to spell this out but I will. Beck claims in AMJ #1 that he is trying to do something good by making his movie and giving fellow crooks a chance to help him. Despite the issue’s framing this absolutely would not count as a good deed. Not to MJ and according to just common sense.

Making a movie or a piece of art is not inherently a good thing. Even if it was as good deeds go it’s not the most meaningful or helpful. Certainly not the most actively helpful thing Beck personally could do.

It certainly doesn’t constitute a good deed when you consider the subject matter of the movie is himself. This is just a criminal’s vanity project which he is making with the aid of other criminals. Nothing more.

It is hardly equivalent to protecting innocent people or risking your life as many of the above characters did.

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[nakamoto-papoyaki]

Don’t Misbehave (M)

so um this kinda came about from a conversation i had one night with a mutual about an anon i read on another nct blog and this scenario was born, also heavily influenced by the very hot  sudsapda shoot because wow that made me feel so many things lksjldfkdj 

Genre: dom! taeyong, a bit of fluff, smut

Warnings: dom/sub themes, oral (male receiving), teasing in public

Word Count: 3.8k

Ft. Nct 127

Taeyong flops onto his back. Huffing out of breath, pushing his hair back with his hand. Lying sprawled out on the bed, only the thin white sheets covering his lower half. Placing his arm behind his head, pressing it against the headboard. You collect yourself and begin to scoot off the edge of his bed. The sheets are completely undone from their once pristine condition, now in a crumpled mess over Taeyong’s exhausted body. He watches you collect your scattered clothes from the floor.

“Leaving already?” he asks innocently but with a smirk plastered across his thin lips.

You chuckle, “I thought one of the rules was no spending the night with each other”. Tossing his discarded boxers in his face.

“Hey” he laughs just barely catching it with his free hand. “And I thought you were someone who never paid attention to rules”.

It's been a few weeks since you and Taeyong started seeing each other. Both of you are adults with hectic schedules, so most times you do manage to see each other its for a quick fuck. Tonight was different however. He had invited you over for dinner with him and the rest of the members in the 127 dorm. You hardly interacted with them whenever you would come over to see Taeyong, mostly due to the fact that you were too busy doing other things with him in his room, but when you would see them you would engage in light small talk. Often occurring in the late hours of the night when you get up to get a drink only covered in one of Taeyong's t shirts. Meeting a flustered Mark and Winwin or a flirtatious johnny and Taeil in the kitchen on some nights.

You walk into the dorm wearing a short black chiffon pleated skirt with a white cotton loose-fitted v neck t shirt with your hair tied up in an effortlessly neat but messy bun. You enter the kitchen area where all 9 members are. Johnny is leaning against the island counter talking with Doyoung, Mark, Taeil, Yuta and Winwin who are sitting sitting on the kitchen stools. Taeyong has his back towards you as he's making dinner with the help of Jaehyun and Haechan. You stop in the archway and the conversations suddenly stop. You can only hear the sizzle of the stove with Taeyong mummering directions to Jaehyun. Everyone seated at the island stops and turns towards you.

“Woah” Mark lets out with his mouth hanging open.

You giggle and shyly wave, “Hi everyone” sending a sweet smile displaying your adorably rosey cheeks.

Doyoung lifted his hand under Mark’s chin to close his still gaping mouth.

Johnny clears his throat since taeyong has yet to turn around, “Hey, um Taeyong”

He hums in response not lifting his head from over the pot of boiling noodles.

“Your..” he pauses trying to find the right word to call you since he knows either of you haven’t labeled it “...friend is here”.

Taeyong turns his head towards you. His eyes widen as soon as he sees you, in that outfit you picked just for him. You send him a delicate smile and begin to sway making your skirt twirl side to side. His face and body melt at the sight, a drunken smirk playing across his lips. Placing his hands behind him on the counter to support his weight causing him to nearly knock over the pan of food to his right.

Yuta snorts and Johnny almost chokes on his drink. You try so hard to suppress your childish laughter, holding your bottom lip down with your teeth as Taeyong tries to collect himself.  

“Y/n” he clears his throat dropping his voice an octave trying to brush off his embarrassment  “you look really beautiful tonight...” shifting his gaze to the floor rubbing the back of his neck. Sending the kitchen in a roar of ‘oooo’s. You blush and make your way over to taeyong with everyone’s eyes following your graceful movements. Gently placing your hand on his shoulder you lift up off your toes a tiny bit to give him a quick peck on the lips causing everyone to erupt again, Johnny and Mark cheering loudly with everyone else clapping and shouting along, while Haechan trying to wash out his eyes in the sink. You and Taeyong can’t help but laugh. Amidst all the chaos Jaehyun manages to speak up, “so if we all call you beautiful does that mean we get a kiss too” he teases playfully poking your side. Everyone starts shouting in a agreement throwing out compliments to you left and right.

Taeyong retorts coldly, “Not unless you all want to go hungry tonight”.

You chuckle at the thought of Taeyong getting jealous. The relationship you two have had up till now has been purely physical. In fact this is the first time you’ve come to his dorm for something other than sex. Although the two of you are exclusive, it's only because both of you didn’t feel the need to have multiple partners. Things were simple between you, sex whenever either of you felt like relieving some stress, without the worry of baggage and drama that comes with relationships. you never took Taeyong to be the jealous type especially since you aren’t even dating. But this peaks your curiosity and you would love to explore the more possessive side of him tonight.

Taeyong offers you the role of being his official taste tester for the evening. Gladly accepting the task as your mouth has been watering from the aroma since you stepped inside the dorm. You lift yourself to sit up on the counter next to Taeyong but still facing the members sitting at the island tabletop. More specifically, facing Yuta, the object of your attention for the night. You saw the way he was looking you up and down when you walked in. You were instantly drawn to him the moment he flashed that unbelievably gorgeous smile. With his silky dusty pink hair cascading over his forehead. Every time he would laugh his hair would bounce slightly,  just enough to move over his eyes. Every so often he would lightly move the strands of his hair that were touching the tips of his lashes with just the tip of his index finger. If you hadn’t been seeing Taeyong, he wouldn’t be sitting there wondering what lies under that pretty little skirt. It was mesmerizing just sitting there watching him, this would only make things more fun.

After staring at Yuta for some time, sending each other playful smiles with the occasional flirtatious comment. You are seated atop the counter with your legs crossed over one another. With Taeyong’s back to the other members you take this opportunity to whisper lewd comments into his ear regarding your choice of underwear for tonight. He freezes cutting vegetables to take in that delicious image of you and you slowly snake your hand under his apron placing your hand over his stomach. Everyone else is focused on their own conversations to notice, except Yuta. During this you uncrossed your legs and opened them just wide enough for Yuta to get the smallest glimpse of your panties, craning his neck to peak at them.

Taeyong turns to you with cooked meat held together between two metal chopsticks, his hand hovering underneath as he guides it to your mouth. You close your mouth around the chopsticks and Taeyong slides them from your wet lips. The flavors play a symphony against your taste buds, your eyes flutter causing a moan to emit from your throat from the sheer taste of the food. Yuta bites his lip at the sound of you, adjusting his position on the stool as something begins to gain shape.

Taeyong notices your legs are slightly spread and places a hand on your thigh, “Does my baby like it?” he asks with a low breathy whisper that sends a chill down your spine. You were always weak for that deep raspy voice of his, and he knew exactly what it did to you. Especially since this is the first time he’s used it outside of the bedroom. You hum in response to his question. You place a few more teasing touches over Taeyong’s body while he cooks. Grazing your hand along the small of his back, lightly tapping his thigh, resting your head on his shoulder while you make eyes at Yuta who happily plays back.    

Taeyong finally finishes preparing the meal. You offer yourself to help set the table and Yuta immediately volunteers to help you. The dining table is no less than 10 feet behind the island counter where everyone else is. You quietly distribute the plates while he sets the utensils once you move to the next place setting, you’re purposefully avoiding eye contact with him as you feel his gaze begging you to look up at him next to you. You bite the inner corners of your mouth to keep yourself from grinning, you’re the one who has to stay in control.

He’s racking his head to try to find the right thing to say to spark conversation, “So you and Taeyong” he proposes catching your attention.

You chuckle in response “Yeah what about it?” still looking down at the table, but you can see him looking directly at you through your peripherals.   

“You guys serious or..” he drags out.

You stop. Your hands still around the plate you just placed down on the table. You turn your head to look at him with a wicked grin, “Or what?” causing him to hitch his breath in surprise from your response.

He recollects himself almost immediately moving closer to you with a deep sinful look in his eyes. It’s as if you can almost feel his heinous thoughts playing out on your body just from looking at his face. But just as lips begin to part to respond with something you can guarantee will be inappropriate. Taeyong calls your name.

Looking back at the kitchen you see Taeyong is looking directly at you, with a look you’ve never seen him give before. You turn to see that he’s montioning you towards him with his finger and with dead expression. You slowly make your way over to him, without the slightest notion of knowing what he wants.

When you reach him you look up at him with big innocent eyes, “Yes?”.

Taeyong looks at you with a blazing fire in his eyes, sending an overwhelming rush of adrenaline through you. He moves until he’s hovering over top of you, feeling the heat of his breath against you. He drops his head by your ear, “Or do you want me to show you what I do to girls who misbehave” I felt that he straightens himself a goes back to cooking like nothing happened. You stand there for a moment, frozen. He was listening to everything you said to Yuta at the table….what else was he paying attention to? Things just got a lot more interesting.

The table is set and everyone takes their seats. You save the seat to your right for Taeyong as he and Jaehyun are bringing the food over to the table. To no surprise Yuta claims the seat to your left. Taeyong finally takes his seat next to you and everyone excitedly indulges in the mountain of food he prepared for them.

All the members are busy with their own conversations. Including Taeyong who is carrying on a conversation with Johnny, who is sitting across from him, about their upcoming personal schedules regarding recording sessions, photoshoots, Johnny’s radio show, practices, etc. You can’t really relate to what they’re talking about. So you turn to Yuta and start a conversation with him. Starting off with small talk since you don’t know him all that well. But things quickly begin to escalate.

You begin to slowly rub your leg against his, making his voice waver in the middle of his sentence. The constant flirty remarks and subtle touches to his arms gains the attention of Taeyong. Still engaged in conversation with Johnny, Taeyong would turn his head towards you everytime Yuta made you laugh, shamelessly hanging onto his arm exaggerating your giggles. Occasionally Taeyong would try to chime in or ask you a question and you would coldly brush him off. Once Yuta made the remark that he should your boyfriend instead of messing around with Taeyong, he completely shut off.  You could easily tell Taeyong was upset. You could hear his responses to Johnny and the other members were short and monotone. He stayed quiet for most of the dinner, only looking down at his food. Something about seeing him so jealous so easily ignited a fire within you. You would love to see how possessive he can be over you. If you ever got caught flirting with someone else you would want him to show you who you belong to right then and there. The scenarios running through your mind cause you to stir in your seat. You want to make it reality.

You instantly back off of Yuta and call Johnny and Jaehyun’s attention to start conversation with them. Strategically so you would have to turn to the right and talk over Taeyong who is still quietly eating. During the conversation you start to ask personal questions, to get to know them better of course. The topic shifts to past relationships. You inch your hand to rest it on Taeyong’s thigh, slowly and methodically rubbing it from outside to his inner thigh. He tries to shift his position in his chair to try to remove your hand, which he succeeds.

You ask Johnny and Jaehyun if they ever got jealous with their girlfriends. Which starts Johnny on the whole chaotic backstory of his crazy ex. Your full focus is on Johnny, nodding along with what he says. But you creep your hand back up Taeyong’s thigh, placing it directly on his crotch. Taeyong nearly spits out his food, eliciting concern from both Johnny and Jaehyun.

“You good?” Johnny chuckles followed by Jaehyun patting his back to make sure he’s not choking.

Taeyong sips some of his water, “Yeah, I’m fine” almost gritting his teeth when he says ‘fine’.

Johnny carries on with his story and you resume where you left off. You lightly rub your hand over the area where his bulge should be. Cupping it as you feel his member start to harden. This time Taeyong isn’t trying to fight it. But two can play this game. Taeyong takes his the back of his hand and slowly trails it from your knee to your mid thigh, just meeting the fabric of your skirt. You begin to feel his length jut out to the left side of his pant leg as it grows in size. You take your finger and trace from his center, along his shaft, until you feel the tip sending a spasm to his torso. As you trace the outline of his tip through his pants with just your index finger, Taeyong’s hands wander up your thigh getting closer to your core. You shut your legs together, rubbing the bone of your ankle up and down your shin to try to lessen your aching for his fingers. Taeyong reaches his hand towards your inner thigh forcefully opening them forcing you to let out a small gasp that luckily no one heard. As he moves his hand over your sex he can feel how warm you are just from the tips of his fingers. You follow by stroking his already fully hardened member. But within moments you pull your hand away, this was only supposed to tell him what you want from him later and he clearly got the message.

Dinner ends and Taeyong is stuck with the chore of cleaning up after everyone else. You happily offer your assistance. The other members retreat back to their rooms as you say goodnight to them but not before Yuta sends you a playful wink as he walks out of the kitchen that he makes sure Taeyong sees. He starts to act distant again after that.

You gather all the plates from the table with the help of Taeyong and begin washing. Taeyong hasn’t said one word to you yet even though you’re both alone.

“Taeyong~” you whine getting him to look over at you, “are you mad at me?”

He goes back to focusing on washing the dishes,“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend, Yuta” responding coldly.

“Are you jealous?” you laugh.

He immediately stops cleaning the dish. Carefully sets it down and turns to look at you.

“What did you just say?” the iciness of his voice sends the hairs on the back of your neck standing on their ends.

The corner of his lip curls into a smirk. “I warned you about misbehaving.” He lifts his hand to gently brush the underside of your jaw. “Do you really want me to punish you babygirl?” looking you up and down as he licks his lips. You hum in response moving against him with your hand at his waist. He forcefully pushes you against him, clutching you by the waist, until your bodies are flush causing you to gasp at his abruptness.

“Get on your knees” he commands sternly. You obediently follow, lowering yourself to the floor. Not breaking eye contact with him as you slink down, hastily undoing his belt. You’ve been hungering for this since you first laid eyes on him tonight. Something about Taeyong showing his dominance over you made your core ache with pleasure, the fact that you two weren’t even dating made it so much filthier in a sense. He wants to be possessive over you. He wants to make you his. And no one else’s. He would never admit it, so you made him.

You take your time unzipping his pants, shimming them just midway down his thigh exposing his boxers.  His white button down hangs below his waist no longer tucked in by his black ripped skinny jeans. His chest heaving up and down faster as you move your face towards his groin, clenching his hands around the edge of the countertop. You slowly graze your fingers along his length through the cloth, sending a shudder through his body as he hisses at your touch. You tug at his boxers to free his growing member. Gently taking it in your hand, you pepper kisses from the base of his pelvis up his shaft looking up at him for approval.

“Fuck,” he hisses moving his hand down to untie your hair, letting your locks fall to your shoulders. Tangling his long slender fingers through your trestles as you give him the attention he’s been aching for all night. His member quickly turns pink with anger, oozing precum which you compliantly lick off his tip.

“Let me see those pretty lips around my cock baby,” he huffed strengthening his grip around the back of your head. You open your mouth to let him in, swirling your tongue as he moves deeper. He parts his mouth to let out a groan as you start rhymically moving your mouth back and forth. Using your left hand to assist you, stroking whatever you can’t fit in your mouth. Taeyong steadies your head in his hand, throwing your hand down from his length so you can fully take him in with your mouth. Occasionally bucking his hips, sending his throbbing cock to the back of your throat. Your nose just barely brushing against his happy trail as you reach his base.  

Lightly stroking the back of your head with his stretched palm, he hums, “That’s a good girl”. Your eyes search back up his lean figure, back arched against the counter. His head tilted back, eyes fluttering every time your cheeks hollow. Mouth just barely open to let his groans of pleasure escape his perfectly shaped lips. You tap your fingers against his thigh to gain his attention, looking at him once more with pleading eyes. Letting him know that you don’t want him to hold anything back. Tonight, you are his.

His thrusts become brisque and violent. Both his hands are intertwined in your hair, gripping the back of your head as he guides it along his seething member. The corners of your eyes fill with water. Locking your gaze with his, feeding on his hunger that only sends the blood violently coursing through your veins. You want him to come undone in you, releasing his jealous rage in the form of his sweet sticky seed.    

His breathing becomes sporadic, holding his breath at times to fully concentrate on the immense pleasure running through his body. Contorting his torso as you push him closer to the edge, uttering curse words under his breath. His thighs tense, letting out a deep moan as the snapping of his hips begin to waver. Clutching your hair in between his fingers. You feel his warm release fill your mouth, allowing it to flow over your taste buds. Taking in the decadent flavor of his salty discharge, balancing bitter and sweet. Feeling it run down your throat as you swallow. Making sure to lick up any remainders left on his tip. 

“You did so good baby” he mutters in his low raspy resonating voice as he comes down from his high. Briskly bending down to meet you, tilting your head up with his thumb under your jaw and index finger against your chin. Forcefully parting your lips with his tongue, catching you completely off guard. His nose brushing against yours as his tongue searches your mouth for the last bit of him that remained in your mouth, just for the smallest taste.

Pulling his swollen wet lips from yours, he looks at you with an almost soothing gaze. Rubbing the side of your cheek with his thumb as you lean into his hand cupping your face. A childish grin creeps across his perfect lips.

“How about we break a few more rules tonight?”   

[revadamhayden]

A rant

I am positive that the majority of Western Religion (Judaism, Christinaity and Islam) itself can be termed an abusive institution.

1. Mankind is taught that its very existence is sinful and that they will never be 'good enough' for a Heaven where only the 'Good children go".

2. That God (the big bearded man in the sky) gave mankind rules which are impossible (even he admitted such) to completely fulfill, and told them to await for someone else (a human) comes to die because they are sinful.

3. This 'Christ/Messiah' was supposedly perfect, and since he was, he had to die.

4. We are on one hand called 'Children of this abusive father figure', but that we are created and treated like some pet project and that, since he molded us like a potter and clay, he can destroy us just as simply because he screwed up.

5. The Earth itself is flawed and is the realm of 'The Enemy', the evil step brother, but we are to be the stewards of God's earth...so by this, GOd and the Enemy are God's of this earth.

6. Let's no even get into the Monotheistic Polytheism "Trinity" debacle...

7. God in the old testament does a lot of screwed up things to HIS chosen people, from telling an old man to sacrifice his only son and saying nevermind at the last second. To telling the Israelites to go and kill everyone in Canaan: men, women, children, animals, armed or 'innocent'. Just so they can have the land and be a nation.

8. Psychological abuse in children and other adults occurs through creating modes of fear and indoctrinating the child that other perspectives contrary to their scriptures will lead them to being BAD and go to Hell (even though they are born in sin anyways). They become reliant on parental and authoritative roles to tell them that they are inherently good, only when they are doing what THEY tell the child.

9. Physical Abuse. On the further end of the spectrum, beatings, confinement, neglect and other cases can be caused by not being "Godly" enough...when seeking their own inner truths, can cause parental figures with a lack of tools in their toolboxes to esculate anger and cause actual physical abuse to be done, and then referencing "Spare the rod; spoil the child", as confirmation that it is okay to beat their children.

Spiritual Abuse includes:

psychological abuse and emotional abuse

physical abuse including physical injury and deprivation of sustenance.

Sexual abuse

Any act by deeds or words that shame or diminish the dignity of a person.

Intimidation and the requirement to submit to a spiritual authority without any right to dissent.

Unreasonable control of a person's basic right to exercise free will in spiritual or natural matters.

False accusations and repeated criticism by labeling a person as disobedient, rebellious, lacking faith, demonized, apostate, an enemy of the church or of a deity.

isolationism, separation, disenfranchisement, or estrangement.

Financial exploitation or enslavement of adherents.

[edennohebi]

after only 12 days of suffering, one would figure that the snakes would leave you to adjust to your surroundings. they had offered you promise of freedom from not only your impediment, but from the hell around you -- all for the price. you were instructed to commit a murder; to stain your hands in red & get away with it, as if they had been pure & cleansed all along, your sins washed away without ever coming to true light. that was their “bargain” -- philosophies whispered themselves on the wind’s trail, only uttered in the hissing of snakes that ‘grand wishes had come at a grand price.’ it appeared that your captors were stubborn on the matter: there would be no flexibility, no loophole for you to worm your way through in an attempt to be rid of this binding, constricting world.

yet even then, no one had stepped up to the plate. why, you had wondered? were they waiting? planning?

whatever the reason may have been, you wouldn’t be gifted the time to think it over: clearing eyes himself had demanded that you all find your ways to the castle grounds. though he was not the Queen, it was within your best interest to listen; the cries of snakes that filled even the deaf’s minds had insisted so & his violent nature had suggested it even further. of course, he had threatened: when you were ordered to come, you would obey it no better than a dog would. if you had refused ( or perhaps if you had no idea of it due to your disability; but that mattered not to him. whether it was your choice or not, you would be forced just as anyone else ), then his snakes would drag you there themselves: they cared little for the livelihood of pawns on his chessboard. snakes would wrap themselves around your limbs & sink their teeth in, & your body would skid through dirt, mud & stone until you were where you so needed to be. whatever state you’re in at the end of it matters not to him, but simply that you are there at all, even if it was against your will.

it seems that the courtyard is packed with your fellow players, the sea of bystanders bustling & drowning out any audible conversation pieces to pick up on. not that it was necessary -- not with how clearing rises from the ledge he’d seated himself upon, & the way he stalks forward so effortlessly; even to the blind, every step he took still carried his presence through vibrations on the ground.

( was he to relieve you of your burdens for this? the answer was clearly no -- those who could not see, could not hear, would receive a different telling of this foreboding story. were the best tales not ones you were forced to interpret? the serpent promised wisdom -- & so he would deliver upon those who were fortune, & those who weren’t would need to grasp at straws. )

❝   have you finally decided to surrender yourselves? ❞ it’s a sick joke -- he knows more than well that he left no options of refusal. his boots scuff against the ground as he stops. ❝  how kind of you.to showcase your miserable forms at last -- honestly, how long had i waited for this? ❞ a self-satisfied hum rumbles out of his chest, eyelids lowering. ❝  decidedly, far too much. still, i welcome you & that curiosity of yours. ❞

❝  though, ❞ his eyes graze among the crowd, as if counting heads, ❝  i’m certain some of you haven’t the faintest of idea of what’s going on -- tragic, is it not? to be so robbed of your senses, unaware of your surroundings -- so i can’t help but to wonder, what’s stopped you from regaining them? ❞ his eyes narrow, pupils sharpening in acid-shaded hues. ❝  could it be fear? are you all too cowardly to butcher those around you, like mice? or is it a misguided belief that you may all survive on a pacifist’s agenda, & we will grow bored & set you free in due time? ❞ the words tumble out in between laughter, cruel entirely as he heaves out a sigh of, ❝  such stupid things. ❞

❝  perhaps you need a farther push -- an example of how this is not a waiting game. ❞ as the words hiss off of his tongue like poison, snakes emerge from the darkness once more. their beady eyes lock onto one soul in particular; one that saeru had handpicked from the very start of it all. 

“ --- huh ?”

in an instant, they move -- their speed is beyond comprehension in itself, striking out & wrapping around HIYORI’S ankles & wrists tight enough to bruise & break blood vessels. 

“ NO -- ! s--stop, it hurts! what are you doing? stop it, let me go! ”

as quickly as they come, they pull back with their grip entirely vice -- her body is forced forward, pathetically so, chin knocked into the harsh, unforgiving earth & her body dragged towards him. as he glowers down at her, those who would have attempted to stop him, to object, are found to be bound by snakes as well -- they constrict themselves around the crowd’s ankles to root them in place. interference is far from preferred.

a hand reaches down, & fingers knot in her hair to yank her up onto her knees & face the crowd. this is a show -- they will bear witness to this event whether they want to or not.

❝  the thought has crossed your minds once before, has it not? this game promises you freedom -- but is death not an ‘out’ of this world? perhaps, you’ve wondered, what will become of the dead’s bodies? ❞ the smile he wears is sick & twisted, teeth bared for all to see his fangs. ❝  i wonder, i wonder! ❞ though his tone had remained on a manic, gradually raising high, it soon drops into a whisper: 

❝  have you ever watched a child die? ❞

( he knows well of the mothers here, of those with weak hearts for children -- their suffering will be delicious. )

“ stop it !!! ”

she’s sobbing now, trembling within his hold -- incessantly begging a variety of ‘please stop’ and ‘don’t do it’ born from the lies she was prior fed. why was this happening ? she wasn’t a part of the game , right ? kagerou wouldn’t lie to her about that, he wouldn’t of done this --- and hibiya! oh god, hibiya -- he’s here, he’s right there in the crowd. she’s sorry, she’s so sorry, she hadn’t even had the nerve to approach you and apologize for FAILING . 

but here she is, letting him down yet again. with vision blurred by tears and a frightened gaze -- his name wants to leave her lips, but it hangs dry in her throat. she’s sorry -- for once in her last moments she can’t force a smile nor mouth her final words for only hibiya to witness -- only succumb to what very well may be her millionth demise.

the moment he dares to release her hair, serpents rise above to wrap around her, lacing & lacing time & time again, squeezing & crushing bone as they further harshen their hold. fangs rip through her skin & suffocate her in complete darkness as they gather, one after another. it becomes apparent then, that they are mere entities: ones that use their shadows to consume her whole, shrouding her figure in complete, utter darkness. it’s a disgusting sight in its own right, to see one’s body outlined by nothing but scales & hungry reptiles; & oh, how clearing laughs & laughs, looking so pleased with himself. he even sighs.

❝  a shame, truly, that those of you without hearing, ❞ a hand raises & a finger taps to his headphones. ❝  cannot bare witness to these magnificent screams of agony! wonderful, truly wonderful! ❞

clearing allows himself to laugh -- his moment of pleasure as the snakes slowly begin to disperse & melt off of her very form like nothing more than ink. they drip & drop onto the ground around her like a blackened puddle, staining her now whitened skin. 

what was once a girl by the name of hiyori now stood something far different -- though structurally the same, her hair had been singed, & her skin had been dyed a white & icy blue hue. whatever life radiated in her eyes is long gone, dead with her very soul; instead blank, lifeless eyes & an even more lost expression remained. if you were to stand too close to her, perhaps you would feel a chill. 

dying down from his laughing fit, the snake sneers & draws closer once more -- hands resting upon her shoulders far too casually. ❝   ahh -- i can see it in your face! surely, you must all be wondering what’s happened to this child, hm? simple: when an ego dies, the corpse is useless -- & “we”, ❞ he drawls the word with specific emphasis, as if he wishes to hold no direction association, but is making a point, ❝  desire bodies -- what better than those with life torn from them?  ❞

his fingers drum against clothed shoulders, & his head falls to the side. ❝  this must be a relief to some of you, yes? my, how unfortunate in your case -- as their memories & selves has been wiped. they are nothing more than husks -- but please, be at ease. at least you’ll still see them, you know? ❞

he leans forward somewhat, smile still intact. ❝  of course, this brat is a special case -- she has been gifted a snake that contains a world, whereas your measly lives will not be so lucky, only left with the bottom of the barrel. really, it is quite funny, ❞ his nails dig into her shoulders. ❝  those of you who believe so blindly in your faith -- did you believe that this was Hell? a child like this, bearing your proclaimed innocence -- she is your “Heaven” that you so desire. but she-- ❞ his hands slither upward, fingers knotting over her throat & his palms squeezing against her neck, 

❝  --can die just as easily once more. ‘Heaven’ is a concept here, one that can be crushed. ❞

but his hands drop once again, & his body pulls back, curling into himself. his mouth opens, & then it hesitates -- a tremor can be felt in the ground, & the air suddenly spikes up in heat. you can feel the sky becoming foggier, more blurred as the temperature rises & haze scorches at your skin. clearing, however, seems anything but startled -- his brow furrows as he glances into the distance, but his temporary scowl twists into a satisfied smirk.

❝  do with that information as you all will -- if you value your lives so much, i’d advise you kill before you turn into nothing more than a shell. such a fate would be worse than dying in itself, don’t you think? but if you continue dragging this out,” his eyes flick back sharply, pupils mere slits, ❝  one by one, will you be slaughtered by my hand & turned into nothing but tools for the Queen. understood? ❞

the silence in the crowd, the lack of your voice -- he takes it as confirmation.

❝  delightful. now disappear. ❞

slowly do the serpents that kept you locked in place vanish, & clearing turns sharply to take his leave, heading towards the castle. 

> CONTINUE?

UPDATES:

✘ for better or for worse, the kogoeru daze has been born from hiyori’s unwilling sacrifice. ✘ hiyori is now considered dead as the white haze holds no memories or recollection of hiyori’s personality. you can now access the OBITUARIES PAGE. ✘ HOWEVER, the white haze is now an NPC you can interact with through the ENH askbox as well as through hiyori’s blog. she will not be permitted to commit murders and you cannot kill her, but she can participate in trials if she wishes.  ✘ depressing as it is, hiyori had left behind a will. all of her items and coins have been split between @heathazetired , @raginxtempestas and @harukanosekaijiju. you can find the list here: [ GOOGLE DOC ] . ✘ the haze is unstable with a constantly fluctuating temperature now. something must be wrong with the queen’s son. if not careful with where they stay, players can suffer from sunburn or heat stroke.

[dfroza]

the silence of the night sky...

should inspire us to “believe...” in our beautiful mysterious Creator

which is seen in Today’s reading of Psalm 19 for march 19 of 2020:

The celestial realms announce God’s glory;

the skies testify of His hands’ great work.

Each day pours out more of their sayings;

each night, more to hear and more to learn.

Inaudible words are their manner of speech,

and silence, their means to convey.

Yet from here to the ends of the earth, their voices have gone out;

the whole world can hear what they say.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 19:1-4 (The Voice)

and the whole Psalm in The Passion Translation:

[God’s Witnesses]

For the Pure and Shining One

A poem of praise by King David, his loving servant

[God’s Story in the Skies]

God’s splendor is a tale that is told;

his testament is written in the stars.

Space itself speaks his story every day

through the marvels of the heavens.

His truth is on tour in the starry vault of the sky,

showing his skill in creation’s craftsmanship.

Each day gushes out its message to the next,

night with night whispering its knowledge to all.

Without a sound, without a word, without a voice being heard,

Yet all the world can see its story.

Everywhere its gospel is clearly read so all may know.

What a heavenly home God has set for the sun,

shining in the superdome of the sky!

See how he leaves his celestial chamber each morning,

radiant as a bridegroom ready for his wedding,

like a day-breaking champion eager to run his course.

He rises on one horizon, completing his circuit on the other,

warming lives and lands with his heat.

[God’s Story in the Scriptures]

God’s Word is perfect in every way;

how it revives our souls!

His laws lead us to truth,

and his ways change the simple into wise.

His teachings make us joyful and radiate his light;

his precepts are so pure!

His commands, how they challenge us to keep close to his heart!

The revelation-light of his word makes my spirit shine radiant.

Every one of the Lord’s commands is right;

following them brings cheer.

Nothing he says ever needs to be changed.

The rarest treasures of life are found in his truth.

That’s why I prize God’s word like others prize the finest gold.

Nothing brings the soul such sweetness

as seeking his living words.

For they warn us, his servants,

and keep us from following the wicked way,

giving a lifetime guarantee:

great success to every obedient soul!

Without this revelation-light,

how would I ever detect the waywardness of my heart?

Lord, forgive my hidden flaws whenever you find them.

Keep cleansing me, God,

and keep me from my secret, selfish sins;

may they never rule over me!

For only then will I be free from fault

and remain innocent of rebellion.

So may the words of my mouth, my meditation-thoughts,

and every movement of my heart be always pure and pleasing,

acceptable before your eyes,

my only Redeemer, my Protector-God.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 19 (The Passion Translation)

accompanied by Today’s additional reading in the ancient book of Psalms and Proverbs for Thursday, march 19 of 2020 with Proverbs 19 along with Psalm 90 for the 90th day of Winter and Psalm 1 as it transitions into the first day of Spring, as well as Psalm 79 for day 79 of the year

[Proverbs 19]

It’s better to be honest, even if it leads to poverty, than to live as a dishonest fool.

The best way to live is with revelation-knowledge, for without it, you’ll grow impatient and run right into error.

There are some people who ruin their own lives and then blame it all on God.

Being wealthy means having lots of “friends,” but the poor can’t keep the ones they have.

Perjury won’t go unpunished, and liars will get all that they deserve.

Everyone wants to be close to the rich and famous, but a generous person has all the friends he wants!

When a man is poor, even his family has no use for him. How much more will his “friends” avoid him—for though he begs for help, they won’t respond.

Do yourself a favor and love wisdom. Learn all you can, then watch your life flourish and prosper!

Tell lies and you’re going to get caught, and the habitual liar is doomed.

It doesn’t seem right when you see a fool living in the lap of luxury or a prideful servant ruling over princes.

A wise person demonstrates patience, for mercy means holding your tongue.

When you are insulted, be quick to forgive and forget it, for you are virtuous when you overlook an offense.

The rage of a king is like the roar of a lion, but his sweet favor is like a gentle, refreshing rain.

A rebellious son breaks a father’s heart, and a nagging wife can drive you crazy!

You can inherit houses and land from your parents, but a good wife only comes as a gracious gift from God!

Go ahead—be lazy and passive. But you’ll go hungry if you live that way.

Honor God’s holy instructions and life will go well for you. But if you despise his ways and choose your own plans, you will die.

Every time you give to the poor you make a loan to the Lord. Don’t worry—you’ll be repaid in full for all the good you’ve done.

Don’t be afraid to discipline your children while they’re still young enough to learn. Don’t indulge your children or be swayed by their protests.

A hot-tempered man has to pay the price for his anger. If you bail him out once, you’ll do it a dozen times.

Listen well to wise counsel and be willing to learn from correction so that by the end of your life you’ll be known for your wisdom.

A person may have many ideas concerning God’s plan for his life, but only the designs of his purpose will succeed in the end.

A man is charming when he displays tender mercies to others.

And a lover of God who is poor and promises nothing is better than a rich liar who never keeps his promises.

When you live a life of abandoned love, surrendered before the awe of God, here’s what you’ll experience:

Abundant life. Continual protection. And complete satisfaction!

There are some people who pretend they’re hurt—deadbeats who won’t even work to feed themselves.

If you punish the insolent who don’t know any better, they will learn not to mock.

But if you correct a wise man, he will grow even wiser.

Children who mistreat their parents are an embarrassment to their family and a public disgrace.

So listen, my child. Don’t reject correction or you will certainly wander from the ways of truth.

A corrupt witness makes a mockery of justice, for the wicked never play by the rules.

Judgment is waiting for those who mock the truth, and foolish living invites a beating.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 19 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 90]

A Prayer of Moses, Man of God

God, it seems you’ve been our home forever;

long before the mountains were born,

Long before you brought earth itself to birth,

from “once upon a time” to “kingdom come”—you are God.

So don’t return us to mud, saying,

“Back to where you came from!”

Patience! You’ve got all the time in the world—whether

a thousand years or a day, it’s all the same to you.

Are we no more to you than a wispy dream,

no more than a blade of grass

That springs up gloriously with the rising sun

and is cut down without a second thought?

Your anger is far and away too much for us;

we’re at the end of our rope.

You keep track of all our sins; every misdeed

since we were children is entered in your books.

All we can remember is that frown on your face.

Is that all we’re ever going to get?

We live for seventy years or so

(with luck we might make it to eighty),

And what do we have to show for it? Trouble.

Toil and trouble and a marker in the graveyard.

Who can make sense of such rage,

such anger against the very ones who fear you?

Oh! Teach us to live well!

Teach us to live wisely and well!

Come back, God—how long do we have to wait?—

and treat your servants with kindness for a change.

Surprise us with love at daybreak;

then we’ll skip and dance all the day long.

Make up for the bad times with some good times;

we’ve seen enough evil to last a lifetime.

Let your servants see what you’re best at—

the ways you rule and bless your children.

And let the loveliness of our Lord, our God, rest on us,

confirming the work that we do.

Oh, yes. Affirm the work that we do!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 90 (The Message)

[Psalm 1]

Book 1

The Genesis Psalms

Psalms of man and creation

The Tree of Life

God’s blessings follow you and await you at every turn:

when you don’t follow the advice of those who delight in wicked schemes,

When you avoid sin’s highway,

when judgment and sarcasm beckon you, but you refuse.

For you, the Eternal’s Word is your happiness.

It is your focus—from dusk to dawn.

You are like a tree,

planted by flowing, cool streams of water that never run dry.

Your fruit ripens in its time;

your leaves never fade or curl in the summer sun.

No matter what you do, you prosper.

For those who focus on sin, the story is different.

They are like the fallen husk of wheat, tossed by an open wind, left deserted and alone.

In the end, the wicked will fall in judgment;

the guilty will be separated from the innocent.

Their road suddenly will end in death,

yet the journey of the righteous has been charted by the Eternal.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 1 (The Passion Translation / The Voice)

and in Psalm 1 in The Message translation a tree in Eden is mentioned as a sign of rebirth:

Instead you thrill to God’s Word,

you chew on Scripture day and night.

You’re a tree replanted in Eden,

bearing fresh fruit every month,

Never dropping a leaf,

always in blossom.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 1:2-3 (The Message)

[Psalm 79]

An Asaph Psalm

God! Barbarians have broken into your home,

violated your holy temple,

left Jerusalem a pile of rubble!

They’ve served up the corpses of your servants

as carrion food for birds of prey,

Threw the bones of your holy people

out to the wild animals to gnaw on.

They dumped out their blood

like buckets of water.

All around Jerusalem, their bodies

were left to rot, unburied.

We’re nothing but a joke to our neighbors,

graffiti scrawled on the city walls.

How long do we have to put up with this, God?

Do you have it in for us for good?

Will your smoldering rage never cool down?

If you’re going to be angry, be angry

with the pagans who care nothing about you,

or your rival kingdoms who ignore you.

They’re the ones who ruined Jacob,

who wrecked and looted the place where he lived.

Don’t blame us for the sins of our parents.

Hurry up and help us; we’re at the end of our rope.

You’re famous for helping; God, give us a break.

Your reputation is on the line.

Pull us out of this mess, forgive us our sins—

do what you’re famous for doing!

Don’t let the heathen get by with their sneers:

“Where’s your God? Is he out to lunch?”

Go public and show the godless world

that they can’t kill your servants and get by with it.

Give groaning prisoners a hearing;

pardon those on death row from their doom—you can do it!

Give our jeering neighbors what they’ve got coming to them;

let their God-taunts boomerang and knock them flat.

Then we, your people, the ones you love and care for,

will thank you over and over and over.

We’ll tell everyone we meet

how wonderful you are, how praiseworthy you are!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 79 (The Message)

[livvywrites]

https://www.fictionpress.com/s/3312862/1/Summer-Sands

Summary: Alinora has left her homeland behind, guilt and fear churning in her gut as she seeks a way to defeat the man who has oppressed her people. Unfortunately, she needs training to do that–and she knows just where to find that training: with the assassins’ guild in Verdani. The Black Swans.

This is one of two prequels for my in-progress novel, Metanoia. It is highly recommended that you read Innocence Lost first, as it provides background for Alinora’s behavior. 

Summer Sands is mostly complete, with a few missing scenes and some editing to be done. My primary focus is on my novel, however, and so I might miss some errors. Feel free to let me know and I’ll do my best to change them :)

Both Innocence Lost and Summer Sands were written when I was planning on telling my story a different way–switching between the past and the present. The present would focus on a young woman with connections to Alinora trying to learn more about Alinora’s past. However, the past had too much detail to cover, and the present not enough, so that was scrapped. These are leftover from those days–before I realized that I had started writing the story too early. Thus, each chapter is prefaced with a journal entry–except in the case of the few times in Summer Sands when I had to split a chapter due to length issues.

Enjoy a preview below:

METANOIA: SUMMER SANDS

Livvy Moore

Sometimes the little girl who is afraid of the dark becomes the thing she fears most... just so that she isn't afraid anymore—Nikita Gill

Chapter One

I left Mynera. It was… a difficult decision. It haunts me daily. I wonder, even to this day, what might have happened if I had stayed. Could I have changed anything? What–who–would I have become? Would I have liked her better? I didn’t know. I will never know. It’s agonizing.

I kept to the forests until I reached the village of Illeth. The population was almost entirely made up of the Valai–valley elves–who had settled here to be close to the Elenai. They did not recognize me as princess… but they did realize very quickly that I was one of the Alarai–one of the Elenai-human hybrids. The term was not widely spread–truthlfully, it had not reached my ears yet; it was months before I heard it, but it is much simpler to write Alarai than Elenai half-elf.

In Illeth, I first went looking for a butcher. I sold him most of the meat that “Liera” and I had hunted. There wasn’t a lot, as we had been preoccupied by… other things… but it was more than I could eat on my own before it spoiled. Had I been a spellcaster, I could have kept it fresh with preservation spells, but I had no such talent. And I needed the coin. The castle funds were far from my reach. I made a decent amount of coin off of it. Once the meat was sold, I went to a furrier. The furs, too, fetched a decent price. Most were common animals, but we had one more rare pelt.

Then came the most difficult part of my excursion to Illeth.

I couldn’t keep both of the da'lia with me. I wanted to–oh, how I wanted to. But I was going to the desert. Even if Verdani sat at its edge, it was going to be difficult terrain. Especially for creatures used to a valley, with verdant grasslands and plenty of water.

I couldn’t part with Ezzi. I’d helped to raise her–the black fur a stigma that only I seemed to see past. Ezzi was loyal to me above all. Only death can separate a da'lia and rider.

It had to be Brynoir, yet that didn’t make the decision any easier.

I almost cried. I refused to. Crying was a weakness I couldn’t afford–or so I believed. Brynoir was one of the few pieces of Liera left in the world. But I would do her memory a disservice if he wasn’t taken care of properly. And he wouldn’t be. Not in the desert–not with me splitting my care between him and Ezzi. Not when I started training, and my days would become consumed.

Besides, what did I need with two mounts anyway? To carry supplies? If I could not manage my own supplies, I didn’t need to be traveling: pure and simple.

Brynoir stayed in Illeth, and I know not what became of him. I like to imagine that some young Volai girl or boy saw the gentle spirit in him, and… decided they wanted him. Their parents were kind enough to purchase him, and he served a new master or mistress until it came time for them to leave this world.

The thought was one of the few that could make smile, back then. I smile now, even.

The journey to Verdani was a long one, but I reached the city in record time. I barely stopped to sleep. Half-elf though I was, I inherited enough of my mother’s blood that I could get away with trancing instead of sleeping. I still needed about two hours, though–and I dreaded those two hours with everything in me.

Ezzi was blessed with plenty of stamina. It wasn’t as if I pushed her hard. We didn’t run. We just… walked. It gave me a lot of time to think. I spent a lot of time ruminating about the events that felled Mynera–about my own failures.

I spent a lot of time playing back the last time I saw Redd and Chloe.

“Something’s been prowling around the Sage’s house lately.”

Could it have been one of the shifters? Was it a trap?

“He doesn’t want you there.”

Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe there was never a beast. Maybe the Sage knew–maybe he saw it. Maybe he knew that Liera had been replaced and had assumed that the same fate had befallen me as well.

Or–maybe he knew it was just Liera. Maybe he regretted naming me as heir. Maybe he wanted me to die.

Or maybe he always meant for me to take the path I did.

I didn’t know. My emotional state was bad to begin with... but with those thoughts tumbling around my head; with no one there to pull me from them...

I had always been good at over-thinking. At worrying. At mentally backing myself into a corner. At working myself up over nothing.

It’s why I was always so… meticulous. So careful. I checked my bags at least thirty times. I kept a mental–and sometimes physical–checklist of everything I was going to do–and the things I wanted to–and the things I was supposed to do. I did nothing without considering it first.

I worked myself up and down, and up again. I thought about what would happen if Redd and Chloe and Sage Ethari were fine, and if they went looking for me. I pictured joyous reunions. Tears and laughter and hugs.

But my nightmares infected them.

Ethari, Redd, and Chloe became shapeshifters. I fell for the trap once again, and I paid the price. I couldn’t escape them–not this time. There was no magical serpent to save me; no convenient childhood memory to keep me from dying. I always woke up before the moment of my death, but... the dreams shook me. They changed me.

The worst of the nightmares, though, were not the ones where my friends had been replaced. They were themselves–no possession, no mind control, no shifters. And…

They told me, in those dreams… that they wished I was dead. I was a poor leader, who had abandoned my people without checking to see if any of them were alive, if they had survived. I was a poor friend, daughter, and lover. I hadn’t noticed that the person I claimed to know better than myself had been replaced. I was a terrible person, who deserved what she got.

The list of my sins ran for leagues. I couldn’t argue with them, because, as was the nature of a nightmare, they spoke only the words my own mind provided. The truths that I believed.

These dreams changed me. Irrevocably. I will never be the girl that I was… and I don’t want to be. She died with Liera, with her parents. She was lost with Mynera. A new woman was born that day... and those nightmares were part of her formative years, after birth.

You can’t trust, they told her. You cannot let anyone in. Everyone you care about is just someone to be used against you–someone who can stab you in the back, either as themselves or as someone else. Everyone must be kept at arm’s length. Further, even, if you can manage it.

You cannot love people. And people cannot be allowed to love you.

It is easier and safer to be on your own. And truthfully, it’s what you deserve. You don’t deserve to have people who love and care about you–not if you can’t even realize when they’re not themselves.

Those are the things that this newly birthed woman grew up hearing. These are the traits she adopted. And when she–when I—walked into Verdani, that was the personality she had adopted.

Verdani was the training grounds for the woman I would become.

[indigo-ra]

The Hungry Ghosts: No Face

I first saw this post on Facebook. I found it very interesting that these facts about  Studio Ghibli’s “Spirited Away” are inherent in Japanese culture, but not so obvious to the outside observer. The one thing, I would like to add to this breakdown is that No Face represents a hungry ghost and could literally be anyone, because of the lack of spiritual identity.

Below is  a list of the 6 realms of Samsara- or the Wheel of rebirth, broken down in layman’s terms for easy digestion :D

Deva-gati

In Buddhism there are 26 Deva realms which would be considered heavens to us. But for the sake of separating the different types of beings born into each realm and simplifying understanding a bit, I’m counting all of them as one: Deva-gati- is  the Realm of Devas (gods/angels) and Heavenly Beings. It is considered the most pleasurable. Being populated by godlike beings (the ones with all the arms and stuff) who enjoy great power, wealth and long life. Since they are all happy, secure and content, they have no understanding of the suffering of others, especially in lower realms. So in spite of their long lives, if they are simply born to Deva-gati - like Svargaloka, for example, where Indra is king, they gain neither wisdom nor compassion unless they make it their mission to understand suffering and pain (would you?). They live in splendor and happiness. Yet even the Devas grow old and die, likely to be reborn on the wheel of Samsara, because even in their realm, one’s actions are subject to good and bad karma.

Asura-gati, the Realm of Asura (Titans, Demi-Gods, and Demons)

Or as I like to call it: Aether. If you are a believer, like me, this realm, in theory, would have housed Mt Olympus as well as all the other demi-gods and titans that, to our knowledge, ever became legendary. In Islam, the Djinn are powerful beings that we cannot see or touch. They are said to be made of smokeless fire (so demons, in a fire-natured sense), but they can see us and  interact with us and don’t think very much of humans in general. They have free will, like man, can be good or evil, spiritual or atheist and are said to live in places like high mountains, where human beings would never survive. They too would likely be housed in the realm of Asura. They too are subject to the generation of good and bad karmas, and thus rebirth.

Manusya-gati, the Human Realm

Jambudvipa, or, the Terrestrial world, is probably not just limited to Earth, but I imagine, includes even parallel dimensions in which the carnal/tangible nature of our planet with interstellar coordinates is what defines the matrix for its existing parameters. When I say parallel dimensions, I mean a world very similar to ours that  may be housed in another galaxy and occupies 3-dimensional space. If time and space were folded like a piece of paper, and we could instantly be teleported, a parallel dimension would still be tangible and satisfy the perception of our 5 physical senses. The beings housed in this realm are you and me, obviously, and you know very well the extent of good and evil that humans are capable of - And That’s just counting the last 3000 years of recorded history on *this* rock.

 Tiryagyoni-gati, the Animal Realm

The animal realm is also within Jambuvipa. It includes all the wild and domesticated beasts. In Buddhism, the belief is that animal beings are marked by stupidity, prejudice and complacency. They lead sheltered lives, mainly led by instinct, avoiding discomfort or anything unfamiliar. Personally, I don’t agree 100% with that assessment, mainly because I’ve met and seen some animals have more selflessness, decency and civility than humans on their best day. BUT in terms of rebirth the Animal Realm is conditioned by a sense of ignorance. As intelligent as beasts are and can come to be, their emotional state is driven by instinct. They are sentient, but do not plan for the future or self-reflect, existentially... except maybe dolphins...because dolphins are awesome. But in all seriousness, people who are ignorant and content to remain so (in the human realm) are likely headed for rebirth in the Animal Realm if their karma isn’t great when they die; assuming they aren't there already *coughcough* because willfully and aggressively ignorant people are akin to wild beasts that can form speech *coughcough*

Preta-gati, the Realm of Hungry Ghosts

Hungry ghosts (preta) are pictured in old mandalas as beings with huge, empty stomachs, but they have pinhole mouths, and their necks are so thin they cannot swallow. A hungry ghost is one who is always looking outside himself for the new thing that will satisfy the craving within. So, in laymans terms, they likely reside on the Astral Plane/Limbo/Purgatory. They are constantly wandering, driven by insatiable hunger and craving. They are also associated with addiction, obsession and compulsion, and the real reason I think “Alcohol” is synonymous with “Spirits”. According to the Dhamma,  hungry ghosts and other restless spirits are caused by bad karma of excessive craving and attachments to addictive substances, material wealth and hedonism. They do not have a bodies, are invisible and constitute only "subtle matter" of a being. If you have ever experienced sleep paralysis, where it feels like some invisible force is sitting on your chest, holding you down, it’s likely you’ve met one. If you’ve ever had an out of body experience, there is a feeling that people have named “The witch over your shoulder” in which it feels like some evil invisible force is staring at you hungrily from behind<( this I can personally confirm) and it is because, while you’re out of your body, the being without one, is looking on in a jealous, vengeful, angry or disrespectfully hungry way. As soon as I looked in the direction though, nothing was there and the feeling went away. Buddhist traditions in Asia attempt to care for Hungry ghosts on ritual days every year, by leaving food and drinks out in the open, to feed any hungry ghosts nearby (How sweet is that?). But do not misunderstand, this is a condition of a human being with bad karma who died and ended up in the in-between...when their sentence is up, they can be reborn into another realm, but being that this realm is intangible, lends them almost no options as far as interaction with the terrestrial world, which means their actions (if they wanted to correct their bad karma) are very limited. So in most cases, they are stuck until their time is up and the suffering and discontent of being driven insane with insatiable hunger is, by design, incredibly intense.

One particular type of hungry ghost, that seems to grow in power by gaining the power to feed themselves are classed as No-Face.

No-Face

Remember him? Of course you do. He seemed lonely and innocent. In the movie “Spirited Away”, knowing what I know about the setting of the bathhouse, I would assume that No-Face was a rich pedophile when he was alive. That kind of karma will get you stuck for hundreds of years. So even though the movie is set in the modern era, this particular hungry ghost was likely wandering the spirit realm from the time there were Shogunates and Daimyos who would destroy entire clans villages, while giving orders and permission to rape the women and enslave the children to be sold as sex slaves or otherwise. 

Kaiken, like the above pictured, were pretty knives that women would hide in their kimonos, in the event that such a tragedy would befall them. They would often use them to commit suicide before they could be raped and killed by brigands or mercenaries. It was fucking horrible. Cute knife though.

The “Zero” Tails 

This parasitic abomination somehow made itself at home inside the host of a girl named Amaru in Naruto Shippuden the Movie: Bonds. Without going into too much detail about the plot of the film, Amaru became possessed by this demonic no-face after falling into a deep despair that it used to leech onto. In the end it made her a vessel of a large amount of chakra, comparable to the other Jinchuuriki, like Naruto. BUT the evil force of this powerfully hungry no-face fed on negative emotions, biding its time until it could completely consume its host and overtake her body. It called itself the “zero-tails” which is obviously misleading, because all the tailed beasts,  one through nine, had fucking TAILS. But to move quietly through the world until its endgame was realized, this was the lie it used to convince anyone who could sense its dark presence in a seemingly innocent adolescent girl. In the end, Naruto sensed the leech’s corruption in Amaru, despite the exorcism of it, which was why it had grown to a level of power, even remotely comparable to his own tailed-beast. She and her sensei were feeding it sin, and ultimately, both earned bad karma.

Talk about fucking done-If you are  a fan of Naruto and wonder how he stays so single and ignorantly innocent of the opposite sex for 17 years of his life, watch this movie with abject scrutiny. Actually watch every movie in which he saves the girl and watch how they all slowly disappoint the fuck out of him. Amaru was a piece of work....

Koh The Face Stealer

Koh was a hungry ghost residing in the spirit world of Avatar:The Last Airbender. It would silently stalk its prey and surprise them, using their emotions against them as a way to steal their face. Koh was a very dangerous, powerful and extremely insatiable hungry ghost, as it had a collection of faces that ranged from human to animal alike. The only way to escape it was to keep a stoic expression, no matter how it tried to provoke you. Take notes, kids. If you have shitty karma, you may be fated to wander the hungry ghost realm with debilitating hunger and rage, and if Koh gets the drop on you, no face to feed or express it. 

Koh’s full mukade appearance was shocking enough to put anyone into a frenzy, but all it takes is one gasp in a state of surprise and its got you. If I were to speculate on this being’s life before it was reborn a no-face preta, I could only say that this person had the type of greed that he was willing to kill and steal to satisfy. I can assume this much because for a being suffering this realm to become as powerful as this, their greed and hunger never ceased being their drive for existing in the first place. To actively accumulate bad karmas even after being reborn into a lengthy sentence as a hungry ghost, takes an apex predator level of evil. A being such as this could very well spend an eternity in this state unless it was ever destroyed, then would be reborn in Hell.

Which leads me to the lowest realm of rebirth:

Naraka-gati, the Hell Realm

In most every religion there is a Hell. If any philosophy teaches you otherwise, it’s a bold-faced lie *coughcough* Jehovah’s Witnesses *coughcough*. Hell is in the ground, underneath the topsoil of earth and shit. Antarctica is a good prison- not just some old story made up to frighten children and idiots into being good people, but it can be used to that effect. To teach that there is no Hell or divine retribution to that extent of the law and that one will simply cease to exist when they die, after a life of sin and accumulation of karmic debt measured in trillions, is a sin in itself. The one spreading that lie is ALSO subject to bad karma. It’s a slippery slope and all I have to say is some people take advantage of believing there is no Hell by being the worst and thinking the only thing that awaits them after death is a peaceful unconscious lack of existence entirely as literally and figurative pieces of shit. Though that is enough to terrify most people, The mindset of a person who is basically the living embodiment of a hungry ghost is the destructive and contagious equivalent of an evil epidemic to the karma of every person they come into contact with. These are No-Face in real life and they can literally be ANYONE. Beware of those who exercise arbitrary morality by defying labels and use that to the advantage of rationalization to make themselves tolerable, yet have no true identity. (For example somebody who cries the feminist victim, but is truly a  Male to Female Transgender  “woman with a penis” who rapes lesbians and justifies it under some LGBTQA-Z gender assignment label when the true label is actually just Rapist) I’m saying this because I personally know some such evil people, that specifically fly under the banner of “Jehovah’s Witness” and because they think there’s no retribution waiting after they die, there’s no limit to the evil deeds they are wont to commit. Ugh... talk about remedial... Anyway the Buddhist texts vary in their details, but typically describe numerous hellish regions each with different forms of intense tortuous design and suffering, such as eight extremely hot hellish realms, eight extremely cold, being partially eaten alive, beating and other forms of torture in proportion to the evil karma accumulated. If I want to bank on my promotion, personally, when I die and make even more karma, I will be an architect of this realm. Trust me, The former and current Devils or whoever is presiding over the torture designs of this realm cannot fuck your mind and soul like I can. I’ll even let you choose from little staycation packages uniquely designed to fit your individual sins.  But as always, this realm is also designed to be an impermanent state- at some point every soul reborn in the Hell realm *should*, in theory, be able to claw their way up to rebirth in a higher realm after finishing out a long sentence...but that doesn’t mean you can’t end up right back there if you don’t learn your lesson. Unfortunately that seems to be the one design flaw of Samsara. One never remembers their past life, but that’s okay too. Because if you’re reborn in karmic debt, or just starting at 0, all types of misfortune will be reflected  in the life of that Human/Animal/Hungry Ghost and passing those tests will either advance their evolution or trap them in a loop.  So in the end, I guess The wheel of rebirth or Samsara is perfect.

So you better act right.

A depiction of The wheel of Samsara, representing the 5/6 realms of rebirth.

[histrionic-lass-blog]

THEISTS ALL AROUND ME

"Imagine if there's no heaven, it's easy if you try; no hell below us, above us only sky....and no religion too." This line from John Lennon's song is enough to spark controversies. Most theists get the most fundamental satisfaction in life from religion. Human ignorance is where religion existed. The world's origin and people's death were very foreign to people back then. Explanations are devised on the basis of a complete lack of evidence. In mythologies, the ancient Greeks, Romans, and other civilizations gave the first explanations to the world but was eventually replaced when Western civilization under the influences of Judaism and Christianity barged in. However, all acceptance of religion is based on belief and not on the weight of evidence or the reaching of reasonable conclusions. Belief is the key to religion and also the problem. Religion should not be considered the source of knowledge because its teachings are not supported by visible evidence that could be examined by everyone. It doesn't have any vast acceptance in knowledge as there is in mathematics or sciences. Science understands the term that there can be no evidence of a supreme being who created the universe nor any evidence of life after death. These beliefs are matters of faith and not open to validation. I thank education for freeing me from ignorance. I remember reading about the period of Renaissance where many of its discoveries brought conflict with the traditional beliefs held by the Medieval church; Galileo was brought to trial for teaching unacceptable doctrines such as the earth was not the center of the universe. The tug of war between religion and science did not stop in the Renaissance period only but even today because there are still many religious people who condemn every teaching about the theory of evolution and almost everything. These things become very unacceptable because they assert the Biblical account of it. As I indulge myself to science, I have come up with a thought that there are still a lot of ostracized educated people because of the religious resistance to science. Religions fear their beliefs will be challenged that's why they disregard the findings of scientists. As a child, I was surrounded with religious people including my family. I was taught how to pray and use the rosary, read the holy bible, and attend different religious activities. On Sundays, we would always go to church even though there are other important things to do; pray and thank god before and after we eat when we should be thanking the farmers, fishermen and other laborers who worked so hard and get minimum amount of wages from it just to suffice the nation with meals; and give all the credits to god whenever something really good happens rather than recognizing the hard work that was done in order to achieve it and use it as a foundation to do better. Years later during high school, I stopped going to religious activities and started questioning a lot of things: "If Adam and Eve were the only people in the world back then and had only two sons, then how did the population expand when Eve is the only one person who can conceive and give birth? Would that mean that we're all products of incest?"; "If god loves all of his children, then why did he let all the people die and let only Noah's family survive? Why would god only spare those people who believed in him and let innocent skeptics or non believers die? Wouldn't he be an egotistical mass murderer?"; Why do people only do moral things in exchange that when they die, they will go to heaven? Is there even a heaven?"; "Why do some religious people play god all the time? They're too self-righteous to speak the words of the god when in fact, they're only basing their religious views on emotions rather than logic"; and "if Jesus Christ had already died for our sins, then why do we still have to carry that baggage? We aren't free at all!" I have become an atheist—yes—an atheist and these questions have paved me to a lot of troubles. I was condemned of going to hell and was even told that the devil was manipulating my mind. I just laugh at it because to believe in the devil means to believe in god, and luckily I don't believe in both fictional characters. When I was still a believer, I have plenty of inhibitions from the way I talk to the way I think. People would tell me that I'm not a good person and just a snotty little brat. They would always tell me that it's never too late to confess your sins and cleanse your soul, and surrender everything to the almighty god. That's absurd! I will never be apologetic for not being perfect. I'm sick and tired of being told that no good things will happen in my life because I don't believe in god. This made me extremely angry because life is about us and we make our own choices. People should stop indoctrinating other people that atheists have no morals just because we don't believe in a god to instruct or punish us. Studies have shown that our morals are a product of multiple factors. The milgram experiment shows authority plays a major role. The Stanford prison experiment showed the same but also displayed the role of social hierarchy. The "good or evil" puppet test for babies suggests we are all born with a basic sense of fairness, justice, and unfortunately, bigotry. Human morality is too complex to be explained by religion or lack of it. There are millions of believers and non believers across the globe that live moral lives everyday, even though some don't. There are atheist charities and atheist criminals. There are religious charities and religious hate groups. Studies have shown the basis of human morality is present even before we're exposed to religion. People think that just because I'm an atheist, I "allegedly" worship Satan and it really upsets me. Believing in demons permit a persistent externalization of one's own unconscious thoughts and preconscious impulses of avarice and malice, as well as thoughts which one suspected. I'm a scaredy cat and I admit that I'm afraid of the dark and what lurks behind it—be it an unidentified creature, insect, rapist, molester, sharp object and hole. People would eventually tell me how funny it is that I'm scared of the dark yet I don't believe in the light (god). Come on! Really? These people are deeply imbued with the idea of the universal presence of the "supreme being". The term "atheist" has been laboriously built up as a terrible and frightening label. No—I don't worship Satan and I'm not a monster. I'm also a human being. But in a more philosophical naturalist manner, an atheist is somebody who believe there is nobody beyond the natural, physical world, no supernatural creative intelligence —behind the observable universe. There is no soul that outrun the body and no miracles—except in the sense of natural phenomena that we don't yet understand. In a home where everyone is a theist, I'm very afraid to come out as an atheist. I will presumably be excommunicated because they think that our future depends on out faiths. This is the product of society's exaggerated respect for religion that makes me really furious. I know that there are atheists out there who are so afraid to come out. Religious issue is one of the most sensitive topic in most parts of the world because people are used to not challenge religious ideas and get absolutely frantic about it. I don't get why we are not allowed to say these things even though there is no reason why those ideas shouldn't be as open to debate as any other. Atheism means a healthy independence of mind and a healthy mind. It's nothing to be apologetic about. Respect.

REFERENCE:

Dawkins, R. (2006). The God delusion.

Erickson, E. (1958). Young man Luther

[mygrace]

A Journey I Wish On No One By Eugene Allen

I was born in 1951 in a barn and I'm not kidding. Our family was very poor but my parents worked hard to take care of us, six children.  It was around from the age of five up to age thirteen I had survived horrible child abuse but not by my parent's fault whatsoever. I began running away from home, doing drugs, drinking alcohol, and living a criminal lifestyle at a very young age. I now understand after many years of therapy I was running from the abuse all my life until I hit bottom in a prison cell. I lived in a prison in my mind for those years. My first time being confined was at the age of thirteen in a Boys Reformatory, from age thirteen to nineteen and escaped three times running from the law until joining the army at seventeen, ran from there also because I joined wanting to go to Vietnam to fight the war. Because of my mental health and physical health, I wasn't going to be able to go to Vietnam so out of disappointment, I escaped several times from stockades and was apprehended. It had taken me three attempts to enlist in the army before I was finally allowed to join. I was sixteen, forged my dad's name, and had to wait for my birthday at seventeen before I was on the bus to Fort Dix for basic training. My escape from the Boys Reformatory was suspended because I enlisted in the army instead of being drafted which I wasn't old enough to be drafted in the first place. My heart was in the right place but my emotional life was so messed up, I had become an accident just waiting to happen. After escaping several times at age nineteen I was given a General Court Martial and transferred to Fort Leavenworth Military Penitentiary, in Kansas, when eventually my case was overturned in Washington and I was released with a bad discharge which was turned over eventually into a good discharge. I continued on my journey living a criminal and addictive lifestyle until age twenty-five when I ended up in the Adult Correctional Institution, in Rhode Island, serving a twenty-year prison term with eight of those years suspended, twelve to serve. This is just what can happen on a one-night crime spree under the influence of drugs. I was so messed up I called the police and waited for them to come and apprehend me. I was released after four years for good behavior on parole. It wasn't but one day I was right back to my old lifestyle and violated parole one month later and received a thirty-year prison term at age twenty-eight in another one-night crime spree so to support my drug habit in another state. I was given a thirty-year prison term and having to serve the twenty years for violation of parole after the thirty prison term was complete meaning I had a fifty-year prison term at this point. I had finally hit bottom and stopped running from God and myself. During all this journey, I felt the Holy Spirit many times drawing me to Jesus but I was like a Jonah. The first morning in prison I was sitting on the loading dock of the prison warehouse and God gave me this message, "As I chose and Jonah chose to run away from thee a great fish you prepared for him and a prison cell for me." This began my journey to finally stop running from myself and God and let go of trying to do it on my own. My true change in my life was when the Holy Spirit Counselor and Comforter began its work to renew my mind and transform my entire life from the inside out. As time passed and many years faded into the distance with good time I served twenty- years straight time until I was forty-eight years old and much wiser because of God and His miracle of changing my life. By another miracle, the violation of parole on the twenty-year prison term was suspended due to a technicality I had nothing to do with filing for. It happened in one day. I know God did this for me because I had asked Him to never let me leave prison ever again until He knew I was healthy and never going to hurt any innocent person again, including my family and myself. He gets all glory, honor, and praise. After serving the thirty-year prison term with good time I began transitioning out of prison at age forty-eight and I've now been home and living a good life crime and drug-free nearly twenty years now at the young age of sixty-eight. I must say that my life must seem to many to be like a living nightmare and to some who thought my life was hopeless and I'd never change they now observe a true miracle of God of Him raising me up when I didn't deserve it. He raised me up just so to confound the wise and mighty. All and all It has been quite the journey. But for the Grace of God alone, I survived this life. God gets all the glory. I'm a bit older now but my memories of the past have been being healed and restored. God has been restoring all the years the locust has stolen from my family and myself by my choices to accept all responsibility. I never blame anyone else for my criminal actions but myself.However, I did blame God a few times in my past until I finally stopped my running from Him and grew up and become wiser so to realize it was God who was healing my life all along and always has been since day He formed me in my momma's womb, God rest her soul. I've forgiven those who have hurt me as a child which as also set me free from bondage and set me free from the prisons in my mind as well. God's Grace is and always has been sufficient for my life.  I hope this journey has helped some of the hurting families who travel this journey with their addicted child or loved one in prison. I no longer live in my past for it is not good to do emotionally and I never want to give the enemy any praise, or glory for doing so. I do visit my past but only so to help others who travel the same road my family and myself traveled. I paid my debt to society and rightly so. Old things in my life have all passed away and behold all things have become new. Through Jesus, my sins have all been thrown into the sea of forgetfulness never to be remembered no more and thrown as far as the east is from the west. I always pray for the innocent victims I caused in my life and that includes all my family, friends, and loved ones as well. I truly hope in my heart this story of my journey and life has helped you in some way. If it does always remember it is not I but it is God inside me that gets all glory. For many years now and when I was in prison I've had this scripture spoken into my life.  Jeremiah 29:11 says “I know the plan I have for you says the Lord” this is one of my most favorite verses. It gives me so much comfort knowing that no matter what happens to me, He always has His reasons and His plan for me is always to help me and never to hurt me, or my family. Our Lord guides us through all that happens good or bad and walks us through His plan. This is just what God's true Grace is all about. When you find and understand what the Grace of God means in your heart and life and what it really is, you have found a treasure that keeps on giving. It is the only peace that anyone could ever need, or want and this peace passes all understanding. No other peace can ever be found in the love of money, the love of crime, the love of lust, nor the love of any drug whatsoever. Those who are trying to find peace in these things are only fighting a losing battle which will only destroy their lives. They give up their own dignity to satan himself who seeks them like a roaring lion destroying their brain and their souls if not for Jesus rescuing them first. Prayer is the key and the only key so to open up the hearts of those traveling this endless journey of hopelessness. We don't have the power to change anyone who travels this journey of doom. We can only love them and their souls by being an instrument and example of God's love in their lives. This is the desire of my heart in my life now and has been for a while to plant the seeds of Jesus and His love and hope into the lives of those families who have children addicted, or loved ones behind prison walls, and this through the love of God, is just what I'll do. He gets the glory.

[vanna-ch]

Auteur Theory about Mike De Leon Films: Batch 81´ & Kakabaka Ka Ba?

Auteur Theory about Mike De Leon Films: Batch 81´ & Kakabaka Ka Ba? A Movie review for Film Language, Midterms part 2

 Introduction & Auteur Theory

 Mike De Leon a Filipino film director whom also made an amazing amount of recognitions as well as several types of film that becomes outstanding later on at the awarding because of how he was able to handle and manipulate his own imaginations and ideas that he tried to express silently that shows the interactive oppressive side of our society with his creations to provide deep meaning, intention and was they were later showed on as a movie also especially during the Marcos era too, later then proves what he is trying to tell President Marcos back then on how Filipinos are being pained during the days of his regime. From his films he then latter inspires the youths as they keep watching the films that he made, watching films again and again can let you see that the movie he makes is trying to explain or tell you something. He was an intentional, and creative as a film maker when he experimented on his films and you can tell from the way he directed his films with meaning and there are actors that are only prescribe to his films over and over again starring his films without any difficulty designating them and the repeating patterns from the casts to who it dedicates to could be seen from every part of his films. His films created in the 90’s are the types of films that has several dictations and they each have their own flows in their parts, not just your ordinary series meaning, that the film he creates has hidden agendas and he completely has control over the variables in each of the scenes and literally you just do not stare at the cinema just to see how the movie comes and goes, you somehow become intrigued and questioned that what if you were in their shoes what would you do, how will you survive in those situations. It’s one of those movie directors that gives emphasis on what reality can do to you and how your mindset will be evolving of, but that is if you had not watch the film he makes yet. You’ll end up beguiled and unexpectedly want to change the fate of the protagonist’s choices and ended up doing it for them in your seats. The way he writes his scripts are with the ordinary, harsh, reality life that anyone goes through and you will understand what will happen next but you won’t actually get the right concept that it will shock you and you will think that the characters will obviously do that, but only ending up doing other decisions that you have not thought of. You never expect a Filipino to get these kinds of achievement in life, a wise and cunning tactic he had created to hide the root of his intended target for his films. Mike De Leon creativity does not often appear much like the creators of this generation, yes some current directors can satisfy the wants of millennial youths with their genres but the agenda to that is how the directors will be able to actually satisfy the mind of the youths into understanding the factual truth of today’s actualization like how he was able to confidently hide his true message to the masses much more to the President Marcos back then which he was attacking the system of President Marcos because of how he was handling the country and it’s fellow citizens with communism, the difficulty of being able to provide and be provided is thought to be simpler with Marcos as the leader thinking that he’d do great things, which in some ways President Marcos did but the citizens were never satisfied with anything for the pain and suffering were the cries and that made Mike De Leon think that maybe he’d create something for fun but with realization of the countries situation that is how amazing Mike De Leon was and his mindset for every film remained the same and still sane for all he could use his skills was to announce to the public that are qualified enough to understand his films to shout the prejudice of many Filipinos. Moreover, the films that was chosen for us to watch and critique were that of the contently the same that of Lino Brocka films that was also chosen and watched then critiqued with all the creative idea of the society in general within the Philippines no hidden secrets but actually showing the brutal side of those people with power of how much they are able to do.

 Batch 81’

 Philippines of today never changes from the old times during the reigns of many Presidents that either created a havoc or do a small change of something anew in the eyes of the Filipino community way back then and it was never placed into a consideration to the heads of many members of the nation that to never forget their own rights as a human living for the betterment of their family or for themselves  to keep up to the ever growing community standards that the society gives to the people who are trying to grind their way to survival and could finally be able to catch up without anyone in peril but all we can say to see that there have been shortcuts to victory that leads the necks of others in need to their demise and despair that thought to give them a free ticket to the good pathway of the pyramid. Society the sole root of burden to those many unwanted human needs of the hierarchy where it claims to be the number one leading standards for a human to normally live and survive without any troubles and diving in to the sins of the many citizens that have sacrificed many parts of their life and soul just to be a part of the invitation to good life to get to the best service that they can experience and be at to know which ones can be the best choice for them. Hardships are seen to our every daily actions in this rugged country that was once beautiful and acknowledgeable to the eyes of foreign and local people, to work through the very top one must endure the harsh environment that they are set up on once born onto this world unless you’re one of the lucky random generated human being that has all the cheat codes enabled and got everything without doing oh, so, much to step up on the ladder of society. Issues of politicians handling these damned system is also one of the cause of hardships that we Filipino’s are facing altogether because of the greed from the entire face point of papered accumulating finances that runs the whole wide world crazy to be rich to afford all of the materialistic totems in the manmade world we are at right now. Family a word, sentence, phrase describe to ensure the strength of trust and love placed in that word so that all will face the harsh trials without anyone dying and leaving the world beforehand while oaths are becoming an ordinary rule to let sure that everyone stays in their path and to not get lost from the road that their family leads them to be. The film Batch 81’ or from its full name Alpha Kappa Omega Batch 81’ sets its title from a fraternity established at a certain unnamed college university to be of assistance to incoming new students that require the need of relationship as a hood altogether to get through many tough times and ensure that all will be able to graduate and finish all the task that is given to them by the fraternity leader. The story begins with the protagonist named Sid Lucero who studies from an untold university taking the course recommended by his mother and lives near the university by boarding alongside his friend. Sid who is struggling from his daily school activities, to tardiness, from low grades and the daily struggle of an ordinary college student stigma until now and does not know what would he do just to make up for all the missed and low grade classes and can’t tell his mother that he is having a trouble breaking down all the necessary goals to become studious once more to be able to finish and graduate without any problems. Alongside with his dorm mate and the best friend that he can always count on in which they both dreamt to succeed without any hardships in their path and tried to find alternatives so that they can graduate with a sweep clean and free of trouble, as they try to survey the different organizations handed out and approved by the university and there Sid ended looking up to the so called fraternities as described by the Webster’s dictionary a fraternity is a group of people associated or formally organized for a common purpose, interest or pleasure such as becoming a future leader to the organization, or someone looking for a guild, and all fraternities is a men only student organization formed chiefly for social purposes having secret rites and a name consisting of Greek letters, and a student organization for scholastic, professional, or extracurricular activities like debates, sports, etc…more indication of its meaning is the quality or state of being brothers or so called brotherliness and finally about the hierarchy as stated of a person in the same class. Profession, character, tastes, etc…and a fraternity can also be synonymy indicated as ‘brotherhood’ more or less. Moving on to the film, as Sid was looking for a group there he was handed out a paper of the ALPHA KAPPA OMEGA printouts and made a realization to see if he will decide to let this fraternity group be of aid to his academics, although innocently Sid doesn’t know the true horrors behind joining a fraternity that entitles you as their brethren, yet. Unafraid and strong willed, Sid Lucero also invited his roommate best buddy to join together in the Alpha Kappa Omega fraternity so that it may be an advantage to them both academically to be known all the while in the school and enjoy the life of someone with brothers looking out for them mindset, but unknown to the horrors about to befall them just to ensure their life in the campus. The fated day for the applicants for Alpha Kappa Omega fraternity to be gathered and tested in the same day immediately, for the new applicants they are called the neophytes as stated by the Webster’s dictionary a neophyte is a novice, a new convert, fresh from the university alternative synonym for neophyte is an abecedarian or apprentice. As the neophytes gather and went inside the designated room for the application to start Sid begets and nervously went ahead like the others did, as they enter everyone lined up and was ordered to be blind folded to test their confidence and attitude in the midst of shame and trials. Many have failed and feared the ongoing tests that will later on fall upon them, letting only a few remain like Sid and his roommate buddy. Further onto the film, the new recruits along with Sid and his roommate buddy ended up in a horrible tragedy where the gang war between Alpha Kappa Omega and Sigma Omicron Sigma, another fraternity group that was angered because of Sid’s roommate friend had an affection towards the sister of the leader of Sigma Omicron Sigma but besides that another reason why the gang war actually preparedly happened because someone from Alpha Kappa Omega member died and it was Sid’s best friend that was drowned in front of him on a toilet in an abandoned place, making Sid furious and initiated their fraternity leader to start a fight to get revenge to what Sigma Omicron Sigma did to their brethren. Finalization of the film is that Sid ended up being a ‘master’ of the new recruits and handled the brother’s rituals for new neophytes and ending up finishing his college work and many more.

 Kakabakaba Ka Ba?

 Ever wondered what a broken film looks like but holds a deeper intention to the Filipino nation back then? Well, as addictions were later introduced into the industrial life of Filipino apart from the chaotic world that was given to use by adding systems that later on disrupt the many living patterns of all the people living in this county. Different race, identity, uniqueness, personality, attitude, world, interest, and many more mixing our cultures and identities sculpting our traits to be what we are being invaded on. Finding your purpose and meaning while growing into the person you want to be without any one stopping you. Having a mindset of relying to others on a higher levels like of the government to expect them to do something about this problematic chaos that everyone is expecting in which they should, which Filipinos are putting their hopes onto them and becoming more lazy that maybe someday the government will actually do something for them manually. Placing their hopes onto someone else but finding out that they will literally do nothing and deal with the nation’s political problems instead of the state the country is in. Persuading people who are unfriendly and being unaware that the environment that they are currently in endangers them to only be noticed when realization appeared and change to be more obvious to become a motivational act. Losing passion to work, not achievement your dream because of some unseen able force that makes you question your entire purpose in life because of the obscure and confusing actions that many people do to you physically, spiritually, mentally, and emotionally in which makes you become unstable and unable to create a beautiful difference in this country. Cults a secretive organization that hides their selves amongst the faces of many different people masking their true identity for a single objective or purpose to either oppress and process a destructive yet creative thinking that makes their mind become a dangerous weapon for the politicians or the government in general, exposing the different experiments and actions truer than words that speeches are shown in televisions from the press making the people confused and think that they are in the position to think that we are all living a great life where in fact that it was already stolen from us, our very existence and actions monitored as it is getting sold to the heads of the powerful people without our mentions and approval to as they continue to obstruct the very loud voices of the mass to be closed and unidentifiable forever. This is where the four protagonist from the film involved themselves into a shady people and business with an unseen trouble coming ahead of them because of a single cassette tape that was secretively placed into the first protagonist’s jacket in the airplane boarding to Manila from Japan. All the while the four protagonists that ended up meeting altogether within the plane became buddies and went to dinner, have fun, etc. Suddenly weird people from the Japan branch of cult as well as the Chinese cult wants to get their hands on the cassette tape making their lives in danger as two of the cults tries to pursue the four protagonists unknown to what the cassette hides inside its tasty melody. The four protagonists ended up to certain sites near their areas just to find clue as to what the cassette tape includes and questions why they are after this single tape when the two tried to listen to it at their home they just find a few notes but then goes blank afterwards making it a very mysterious tape for all of them who are both trying to help them and find what it truly holds inside. As they search for clues they ended up in places they thought that were safe and free of touch from the society, a church in the hills of their village and so they decided to explore the sides by disguising as nuns and pastors in practice, unknown to them that the nuns are immediately conspicuous of them and tries to get away with a scent of glare in their eyes to the four protagonists, there they explores the sides to see if one gets to find something like a hidden switch or something that could access into another spot within the vicinity of the church inside or out. No more, no less further along in the film they ended finding a secret door leading to an elevator giving a secret code for the members to enter, spying there they knew the code and went to the elevator going to the basement along with the Chinese cult. There they saw the mastermind of all their troubles and screams, it was a Japanese master the head of all troubles that they’ve been facing and to their addition knowledge it was he who created the cassette tape that holds the ingredients in creating an unending source of opium more likely drugs and other paraphernalia for them to never stop indulging and continue to process and send out by selling making them rich and in control of all the business happening around Asia, like trading pointing out that they are powerful and will continue to reign. But in the end of the invitation of choirs and comediatic pauses the evil doers are always caught and jailed for the crimes and wanted images that they are with their sentenced spoken and the four protagonists ended up helping with a great term and all of them ended up having the nice time of their lives once more and the four of them got married where the action and catching happened, under the hidden area of the church.

[besomethingblog]

50 Best Mahatma Gandhi Quotes to inspire you

Mahatma Gandhi Quotes

Mahatma Gandhi was born on 2nd October 1869 on Porbandar, Gujarat. Gandhi full name is Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi.

He is also known as “Bapu”.

Here are some best Mahatma Gandhi quotes:

Gandhi Quotes

It’s easy to stand in the crowd but it takes courage to stand alone.

Service without humility is selfishness and egotism.

Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.

Seek not greater wealth, but simpler pleasure; not higher fortune, but deeper felicity.

Our greatest ability as humans is not to change the world; but to change ourselves.

A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave.

Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.

The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.

I suppose leadership at one time meant muscles; but today it means getting along with people.

Earth provides enough to satisfy every man’s needs, but not every man’s greed.

You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.

Nonviolence is a weapon of the strong.

The true measure of any society can be found in how it treats its most vulnerable members.

Prayer is the key of the morning and the bolt of the evening.

Where there is love there is life.

Live simply so that others may simply live.

Doubt is invariably the result of want or weakness of faith.

If I have the belief that I can do it, I shall surely acquire the capacity to do it even if I may not have it at the beginning.

Many people, especially ignorant people, want to punish you for speaking the truth, for being correct, for being you. Never apologize for being correct, or for being years ahead of your time. If you’re right and you know it, speak your mind.

Namaste. I honour the place in you where the entire universe resides… a place of light, of love, of truth, of peace, of wisdom. I honour the place in you where when you are in that place and I am in that place there is only one of us.

Truth resides in every human heart, and one has to search for it there, and to be guided by truth as one sees it. But no one has a right to coerce others to act according to his own view of truth.

There are two days in the year that we can not do anything – yesterday and tomorrow.

Unwearied ceaseless effort is the price that must be paid for turning faith into a rich infallible experience.

A principle is the expression of perfection, and as imperfect beings like us cannot practise perfection, we devise every moment limits of its compromise in practice.

I do not believe that multiplication of wants and machinery contrived to supply them is taking the world a single step nearer its goal… I whole-heartedly detest this mad desire to destroy distance and time, to increase animal appetites and go to the ends of the earth in search of their satisfaction. If modern civilization stands for all this, and I have understood it to do so, I call it Satanic.

Rights that do not flow from duty well performed are not worth having.

The golden rule of conduct is mutual toleration, seeing that we will never all think alike and we shall always see Truth in fragment and from different points of vision.”

The roots of violence: Wealth without work, pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, commerce without morality, science without humanity, worship without sacrifice, politics without principles.

Man often becomes what he believes himself to be. If I keep on saying to myself that I cannot do a certain thing, it is possible that I may end by really becoming incapable of doing it.

The Seven Sins are: Wealth without work. Pleasure without conscience. Knowledge without character. Commerce without morality. Science without humanity. Religion without sacrifice. Politics without principle.

Morality which depends upon the helplessness of a man or woman has not much to recommend it. Morality is rooted in the purity of our hearts.

Just as a man would not cherish living in a body other than his own, so do nations not like to live under other nations, however noble and great the latter may be.

Whether humanity will consciously follow the law of love, I do not know. But that need not disturb me. The law will work just as the law of gravitation works, whether we accept it or not.

A man who was completely innocent, offered himself as a sacrifice for the good of others, including his enemies, and became the ransom of the world. It was a perfect act.

Let the first act of every morning be to make the following resolve for the day: I shall not fear anyone on Earth. I shall fear only God. I shall not bear ill will toward anyone. I shall not submit to injustice from anyone. I shall conquer untruth by truth. And in resisting untruth, I shall put up with all suffering.

Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent then the one derived from fear of punishment.

Love is the strongest force the world possesses and yet it is the humblest imaginable.

Constant development is the law of life, and a man who always tries to maintain his dogmas in order to appear consistent drives himself into a false position.

There is really no slavery equal to that of the desires. All the sages have declared from the house-tops that man can be his own worst enemy as well as his best friend. To be free or to be a slave lies in his own hands. And what is true for the individual is true for society.

If by abundance you mean everyone having plenty to eat and drink and to clothe himself with, enough to keep his mind trained and educated, I should be satisfied. But I should not like to pack more stuffs in my belly than I can digest and more things than I can ever usefully use. But neither do I want poverty, penury, misery, dirt and dust in India.

Just as one must not receive, so must one not possess anything which one does not really need. It would be a breach of this principle to possess unnecessary food-stuffs, clothing, or furniture. For instance, one must not keep a chair if one can do without it. In observing this principle one is led to a progressive simplification of one’s own life.

I know that I have still before me a difficult path to traverse. I must reduce myself to zero. So long as a man does not of his own free will put himself last among his fellow creatures, there is no salvation for him. Ahimsa is the farthest limit of humility.

There is an orderliness in the universe, there is an unalterable law governing everything and every being that exists or lives. It is no blind law; for no blind law can govern the conduct of living beings.

Truth never damages a cause that is just.

The seeker after truth should be humbler than the dust. The world crushes the dust under its feet, but the seeker after truth should so humble himself that even the dust could crush him. Only then, and not till then, will he have a glimpse of truth.

All that I can in true humility present to you is that Truth is not to be found by anybody who has not got an abundant sense of humility. If you would swim on the bosom of the ocean of Truth you must reduce yourself to zero.

We do not know whether it is good to live or to die. Therefore, we should not take delight in living, nor should we tremble at the thought of death. We should be equiminded towards death.

Unity to be real must stand the severest strain without breaking.

A man must arrange his physical and cultural circumstances so that they do not hinder him in his service of humanity, on which all his energies should be concentrated.

I believe in the essential unity of all people and for that matter of all lives. Therefore, I believe that if one person gains spiritually, the whole world gains, and if one person falls, the whole world falls to that extent.

Also see:

Narendra Modi Quotes

Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan Quotes

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#propertyofparrishforever #jackandreina #brandedbythebulldog

.•´✶Blurb.•´✶

It’s not a wicked world that drives a man to sin, it’s a deranged mind. Baptized in dirty water by Satan himself, I’ve spent my whole life fighting the good fight, searching for the light in the darkness of insanity. Now, the light I’ve basked in for so long is finally dimming and the time has come for me to take my final bow before the curtain closes on my sanity.

After making a deal with the district attorney and providing my club with full immunity for the crimes we’ve committed, I have twenty-four hours to remind my wife, Reina, why she fell in love with a bastard like me before I turn myself in and break her heart.

But twenty-four hours isn’t enough.

Not for me and certainly not for the Devil.

Tragedy strikes, and my world implodes. It’s lights out for Jack and Reina and a man can’t survive without his sunshine. Engulfed in darkness, consumed by the crazy, I’m a weapon of mass destruction, ready to wreak havoc on the wicked world.

Word to the wise—proceed with caution, motherf*ckers.

The Bulldog is back!

.•´✶Excerpt•´✶ © Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved by Janine Infante Bosco.

“I didn’t realize you would be joining us today, Mrs. Parrish,” the district attorney, Matt Ritzer, says, tearing his eyes away from me to glance thoughtfully at my wife. Turning my head, I watch Reina lift her head and stare at the man looking to lock me up and throw away the key. Without responding, she tucks a golden strand of hair behind her ear and for a split second I forget we’re in a room full of attorneys and federal agents. I forget we’re teetering on the edge of a sentence and imagine fisting those locks as I bend her over the table and fuck her raw.

Raw and hard.

Wild and reckless.

Like a ruthless savage, branding her over and over so that long after those iron bars close in on me, Sunshine feels me between her legs.

“I go wherever he goes,” she says calmly, forcing me back to reality. Without looking at me, she reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. “Until you take him away from me and I no longer can.”

To the room full of suits, her voice is strong—her words cunning but I hear the despair laced with every syllable and I feel her hand slightly tremble against mine. It forces my gaze downward. Dripping in faded ink and silver rings, my fingers intertwine with hers. Pale, dainty and perfectly manicured—that’s my Sunshine.

The beacon of light in my dark and cruel world.

Lifting my head, the voices around us fade and I just stare at her profile, cementing her delicate features to my failing mind. I remember the first time I saw her face, the first time she acknowledged my existence. Her dull eyes called to me, beckoning me to dig deeper and discover the heart and soul of their owner.

Her soul was broken, that I knew but, her heart—I never expected it to be as generous as it’s been and I sure as fuck never thought I’d be the bastard she gave it to. She saved me the trouble of stealing it because come hell or high water I would’ve taken it, anyway.

I’m selfish like that.

Always taking what I don’t deserve.

Dirtyin’ up the clean.

Tainting the pure.

Corrupting the innocent.

Playing God with everyone who comes into my life. Reina never stood a chance with me as her acting messiah but, fuck if I don’t love her. For every bit of wrong I’ve done in my life, I must’ve done something right for her to stick with me.

You can say it’s because she loves me but, I’m no fool and I’ve lived enough life to know love isn’t always enough. Another woman would’ve run for the fucking hills. Another woman would’ve committed my mentally deranged ass. And another woman wouldn’t be sitting next to me holding my hand as I break her heart and destroy our lives all for the sake of brotherhood.

It’s more than love.

It’s salvation.

It’s knowing you were born to complete the other half of someone. It’s finding the remedy to heal your fractured soul, to piece together the broken parts and make them whole.

“There’s always visitation,” my lawyer whispers to her. That’s when she breaks her stare with the district attorney and turns her eyes to me. I watch them fill with tears and I lean into her, lifting my free hand to her face. I pull her closer, touch her forehead to mine and give her what she needs to hear.

“You,” I murmur, taking us back to the beginning.

Back to basics when two words defined a lifetime.

After a beat, she nods slightly and returns the gift, giving me what I need to serve my impending sentence.

“Me,” she assures.

Always her.

Clearing his throat, Ritzer commands my attention. Releasing a growl, I pull back and slice my gaze to the man sitting across from me.

“We’ve gone over the deal legal counsel has proposed and are willing to negotiate the terms,” he says, sliding a stack of papers across the mahogany table. Before I can lift a finger, my lawyer reaches over and takes the proposal.

Still holding Reina’s hand, I lean back in my chair and watch intently as my five hundred dollar an hour lawyer skims the deal.

“I thought he said it was solid?” Reina whispers.

Squeezing her hand, I don’t respond. Instead, I clench my jaw and wait for someone to tell us what’s going on. The room goes silent as my lawyer continues to flip through the pages and then it happens…

The voice of my maker calls in the distance.

You’re fucked Parrish.

“Fifteen years?” Reina shrieks, releasing my hand. Her outburst drags me away from my mind and the two words that we weren’t expecting to hear.  “No one said anything about fifteen years,” she cries, turning her attention to me.

Not willing to see the heartache reflected in her eyes, I cowardly keep my attention focused on my attorney, hoping he pulls a rabbit out of his hat or creates a miracle of some kind. Jeffrey Holden has gotten rich over the last two decades but he’s also kept my ass out of prison.

Every dog has its day, Bulldog.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I struggle to fight the voice inside my head. That vile bitch who loves to drag me down to hell any chance she gets.

“Jack,” Reina croaks next to me, demanding answers. Blinking, I slice my eyes back to hers, watching as she angrily wipes at the tears falling down her cheeks. I know the thoughts running through her head because they’re exactly the same as mine.

Like me, she’s calculating the age our son will be when I’m released and already mourning the years I’ll miss of his life. My chest starts to ache as I picture the boy I’m leaving behind and the grown man he’ll be in fifteen years. I’m losing out on all the moments I never got to share with his brother who was taken from the world too soon.

Then, there’s also the promise to teach him all the things in life a boy needs to learn in order to become a man that going away will force me to break.

Reina’s also thinking about my daughter Lacey, wondering if her mind will withstand this latest blow to our family and acknowledging the fact that the baby, she’s carrying won’t know its grandpa. Again, I close my eyes and allow myself a moment to recall walking my daughter down the aisle, kissing her cheek and giving her hand to the man I trusted most in the world. My throat constricts with emotion just as it did on her wedding day and one cherished memory bleeds into another, taking me back to yesterday when she shared her sonogram photo with me.

I finally let myself look at Reina—really look at her. I memorize her features and pray to whatever god will listen that while I’m alone, rotting in my cell my mind will allow me to remember all the many expressions her beautiful face has gifted me over the years. May I always recall the sound of her laugh and the sweet fucking sounds she makes when she comes undone.

You’re going to lose her, Parrish.

[jazzellecayaban-blog]

ILLEGITIMATE CHILD: Still a product of love

                    If you’re an illegitimate child your life is shattered as your identity, your heart is broken as your home. You always seek for something yet you fail to find what’s your looking for. A vagabond that travels from place to place never finding rest, a bird that flies from one distant land to another never ever finding its own nest to lay. Yes – I am a child out of wedlock, try as I may, it is one thing I can never change. People may judge me for being dramatic like this but I’ll tell you it’s not about dramas it’s about being real. Many illegitimate child may ask this question, “Whose child am I?” they often say “I have the rights to rebel in this world, I am just a mistake.” Guys! Wake up! You’re still a product of love. As Professor Ariel Guban once told me. “There has no such thing as illegitimate child, only illegitimate parents.” To be an illegitimate child is to be like a solitary star in the night sky – incomplete but this feeling shouldn’t be the reason to rebel against life.

                  We are incomplete when it comes with our own identity and with the judgmental eyes of the people around us. When I was a kid, I kept on finding my dads’ presence. My mom would just give her sweet smile and warm hug to me. It’s her routine every time I asked that silly question. Every activities in school where father is required to attend, I will just bow down my head and feel different among others. As time passed by, I’ve realized, maybe my dad is just somewhere in the planet Venus, Mercury or Mars and dream that one day he will come back and bring a lot of aliens with superpowers for me. Thanks dad, my imagination widen because of you. My mom works hard and never had the time to explain everything to me. When I was in grade 3 she left me and works to other country. So, who’s with me? Nothing. I felt so incomplete, I may be rich in materials things but I’m a penniless when it comes with the presence of the people I love the most. Even with my classmates or friends, they often bully me for being alone. “You’re a weak child, having no parents at all, maybe you’re too bad that’s why your parents leave you alone.” That exact words filled my heart with rage and longing for the people I should love the most. This anger and incompleteness poisons me but I couldn’t let it go for these people who wounded me even the day I was born. How can I ever forgive them? Too many child have been hurt already and if I don’t find my way now, this cycle of brokenness will only happen over and over again.

                      As you grow up, you will feel something is really missing. My dad wasn’t there when a guy first courted me in high school nor he was there when I survived the first break up. I find him mean for stealing my mothers’ future but that’s another story. I grew up being protected by my Mom, cousins, aunts, uncles who conspired on fabricating a safer, albeit fragile, world for me. My father is a married man, and that is the whole point that renders this story illegal, or that which renders my existence, illegitimate. I had the time to be with him at once with his another family and I can say I am him in so many ways, I got his eyes, the shape of his face, the color of his skin, the way he laughs, the way he speaks up when he want things done right, the way he captures my mothers’ heart. I hate the fact that I’m a carbon copy of his face because it’s undeniable. I really want those fantasy movies which always ends up with a happily ever after, I wish that thing would happen in reality. From social gatherings to department stores, or in public I wasn’t allowed to call him ‘Papa.’ I had to treat him as a stranger. Fair enough, it wasn’t easy for a child to engage in such a roleplaying game. I’ve seen it in the movies, but then again, I never thought a tragedy of this kind can surface beyond the silver screen.

                    Different experiences in life can cause individual to react differently and possibly result rebellion, and being a child out of wedlock has a great impact with it. When I opened and widen my eyes in my younger years I pity myself for being a bastard and for being alone. To rebel is a normal stage of a teenager maybe because of their strict parents or maybe they want freedom and to be independent. But us Illegitimate child, we rebel because we want a parent! We don’t need freedom and to be independent because we already have it since the day that we were born. I do a lot of stuffs, drinking alcohol, party rock, not going to school at all, and worst not going home at all. Why? Because I am free, illegitimate child have freedom because no one cares. From my high school days I’ve experienced all of this. And when something bad happens, I keep blaming my dad, even my own mom. How could they possibly make a child and leaving that innocent human being like a biodegradable trash? I felt it that way before, but as I understand things I know that’s the foolish thoughts and acts I’ve ever made. I even question God for giving me this unfortunate life, that’s how pathetic I am that time. Others will say I’m stupid for doing that whole thing but they don’t feel the turmoil that keeps me awake even at night.

                               Despite of being incomplete, the world slapped me and realized that it is not a valid reason to rebel against life. One sunny day I woke up very late in the morning and extrapolate a lot of things. Yes – there has hundreds of reasons to rebel but there has still thousands of reasons not to rebel. Why? The first thing I knew is that were still lucky to have a mom, a brave and intelligent mom that guides and supports us single-handedly. Don’t you feel a little bit guilt if you do stupid things that can hurt your one and only parent? I am sure that of all people, you love your mom the most. Second, we have a life and we’re not the only one who has problems in this world. Whatever it is always look for the positive sides. Be thankful that our mother give us the chance to live a life and not even try to abort us when we were on her womb knowing that our father has another woman or legal family. Third, put on your head that being illegitimate is not your sin, maybe your parents does, but you’re out of it. The only thing that makes it sinful if you believe in the thought that it is your fault. Lastly, being complete is not the presence of both parents living with you nor any superficial things that this world can buy, not the perfect physical and intellectual beauty but the only one who made us whole despite of every brokenness, the one who completed us the lord our maker who made us completely perfect, who made us whole inside and out. And that’s the only thing Illegitimate child should put in mind, that’s the only way to accept and endure the feeling of being incomplete.

                      Almost 16 years I live my life finding his love and presence out of nowhere, the father figure, the middle name, the complete weekends with a complete parents, the dance with my father thing. Maybe I can’t have it all. Maybe it will just be a dream but I’m contented with what I am know. I am an illegitimate child and I am never ashamed of being one, that’s one thing being illegitimate have taught me. Having raised by my mother single-handedly does not make me less. Acceptance is the only cure for such cruel things in life. It can make an illegal thoughts be legal. To rebel in this kind of situation shows how weak you are, no matter how hard to be an illegitimate child is, I can say we have always our choice to make this illegal thing be the best thing in our life. Still, I’d choose this path over a lifetime without missing parts. Nothing feels complete until you own it, I guess. Months ago, I happened to see him again somewhere in Bicol, He walked and talked slower this time, he is paralyzed and still recovering from heart attack. He praised how beautiful and intelligent girl I have become without him. He even told me that he is very proud of me not being a rebel after what he have done with us. Before we parted ways, he said, “Always remember you’re a product of love.” And that is one thing I can never change. To be an illegitimate child is to be like a solitary star in the night sky – incomplete but this feeling shouldn’t be the reason to rebel against life. Indeed, it gives me a mark and a new name that tells how lucky and precious child I am.

(July 18 , 2014)