#maybe augustine will have some answers for me

[kaladinstormsblessed]

about to put my clown shoes on (turn to classical literature in order to deal with the complex feelings surrounding losing my father)

[starberry-cupcake]

I didn't even give you time to rest and we're back for another round of this. Let's give it up for our sponsor @lady-harrowhark who has helped me get here ♥

previously, on the 1st entry of tlt, aka gideon the ninth:

this happened

also, I was made aware of the fact that there's a 4th book happening?????

??????

I thought they were three, I thought I was coming into this with all the answers out and available

emily has already explained to me the situation and I am taking it very well

I'm very at peace with the fact that I'm gonna have to wait

:)

this is how you all feel, huh?

now, get ready for harrowbean the ninth:

we start out strong with 25 new names

we got a list of lyctors and slurped cavaliers

I'm assuming the crossed out people means dead or slurped

we got another ortus, good for him, I'm gonna remember him

we got another two living new ones, it's likely I will remember an augustine, not likely I'll remember the other one

absolutely no way in hell I'm remembering their cavaliers

absolutely no way in hell I'm remembering the dead

I'm gonna have to think of new nicknames

not!dulcinea is listed and crossed out, as she should be

(the emperor's new groove, indeed)

we've got yandere simulator twin w/inner chad

BUT we'll talk about that in a sec

and then there's harrow

and where gideon should be we got g̵̙͉͚̼̾̽̓̏̾̒̒̂̎͆̕͝ͅi̸̱͍͕̎̆̾̐̇̍̀̎d̷̨̪̙̭̮̜̼͆͆e̴̡̻̰̞̓̈́̋͂̇̐̇̀̓̈́̿̅̚ǫ̷͇̟̳̯͇̤̪̻̩̤̒̅͐͛̒̃͑̂͌́͝ͅn̵̢̙͔̩̗͇͎̻͕̲̮͙̞̓͆̋̈́̿͑͋̈̒͌̀͐̕̚͜͜ ̷͍̫̝̖̮̺̩͖͕̞̾̀͂s̶̖͓̗̩̹̹̥͉̘̄͑͒̾̔͋̑͝h̷̯̲̞͗ơ̵̢͕͙̤̳͎̟̳̖͕͓͋̃̀̉̔̎̈́͆̏̄ͅṷ̴̧̨̢̦̭͈̰͓̪̱̠͓̈̿͆̇̀͑͜ľ̴̨͍͖̘̠̖͎̤̮̱̻͚̑̄͑d̸̢̛̛̻̙̪͙̖̋̃̄͛̅̀̃̐̈̿̏̏͘ ̷̢͚̦̱̩̬̟̺̀̄̈́͂͋̂̄̊̾́́̾̆̄b̷̡͕̲̗͇̠̗͓̈́̍̽͊̇͜ę̴̢̡̱͓̱͉̩̖͇̠͇͎̪̟͗ ̵̪̭͔̊̿͜h̸̢̛̙͍͎͖̻̟̗̫̄̐̀̄̃̽͑̚̕͠ͅe̵̘̳͆̉̿̔͘͘r̸̦̰͌̒̐̓̽́̾͋̏͝ȩ̶̢̖̩͙̗͚̲̈́͠ͅ ̶̡͌̃̏̐̑̀̄̉̀̈́͐̀͊̀͠

👀

I don't know

I think maybe la gideon del 9 isn't totally gone

maybe it's true, maybe it's wishful thinking

maybe her soul got back into her body like when you dream you're falling

her body slurped it back like a noodle

and her demigod powers regenerated her like wolverine

and camilla removed her from the location

and they're both alive and well

don't correct me, let me have this

me, waiting for camilla to come back

after all of this info and the poem/hymn/whatnot we got a prologue which starts with "the night before the emperor's murder"

WELL

OK THEN

WHAT HAPPENED WITH BEING GOD????

the emperor's new clothes and all, he was naked all along

this man is a joke, this man is the wizard of oz, what's going on here

anyway

the prologue is in second person with harrow's pv

I think I have experienced harrow's pv before while reading gideon

hoping for her to focus on one important issue and getting frustrated was very much harrow's pv

harrow is in some sort of battle situation getting directed by the emperor and, as I understand, acting in coordination with the other living lyctors

but also harrow is doing something she shouldn't be doing and they're telling her not to do it

which is like, the harrowest thing to do

so yandere twin comes in to talk to her into moving because she'll be targeted if she stays

and there's a moment when I was like...wait a sec

they say she has blue eyes with specks of brown

didn't she have lavender eyes?????

then harrow says "you should have killed your sister, your eyes don't match your face"

?????????????

yandere twin is very insistent on the helping but also cryptic

I am starting to stan her less

she's starting to get on my nerves and it's the prologue

she also says "choke me, daddy" which

THIS IS NOT THE TIME

gideon gets to do those jokes at terrible times, not you

gideon is allowed

so harrow gets in the fight soul-first and is spitted out of the fight and has a sword through her body

we're doing great over here guys

we're just— this is fine

we're fine

it's f i n e

IT'S FINE

I'm gonna leave the next bit for the next one because this is long enough with the reaction images that I think are crucial to understanding the feelings I'm trying to convey. I'm gonna go to sleep and possibly dream of these characters again. I'll try less pictures and more stuff in the next entry. Hopefully. And maybe read the short story that comes before book 1 because Camilla is in it.

[aealzx]

Opening his eyes brought a scene of sterile grey walls and blistering white light that had Donnie squinting after the darkness they had been sucked into. After a few grimaced blinks he simultaneously realized his wrists and ankles were restrained, and Lil Mikey was missing. No matter, he could break these chains with a bit of mystic tech. The magic came easily to him, bringing him comfort in his tech always being with him despite the physically crafted devices having been stripped from him. But this time his effortless attempts were sliced away from him by a wave of nullifying energy that also drilled into his head with a stabbing wave. A light noise of irritation escaped a sneered nose as the energy within him flickered out along with the lights on his markings. Anti mystic tech. Great. They apparently knew who they were dealing with.

But who were they?

A question that was answered sooner than expected when a near invisible door slid to the side, a group of people behind it. “Well,” the woman at the front started. “I’m glad Agent Bishop’s records included a small note about the possibility of you four having gained mystic abilities. I have to admit I’m not completely familiar with the concepts, but I did coerce some help in crafting the proper precautions, just to be safe.” She spoke with an even, familiar tone that didn’t match the situation as far as Donnie was concerned. Her path took her towards him before she stopped and sat in a metal chair that was brought to her from behind. A good signifier to Donnie that she was the one in charge. After a moment of staring at him, earning nothing but a silent glare back, the woman adjusted her glasses and held her hand up, her assistant placing a tablet in her hand. “I have to say, you’ve really let yourself go. Losing nearly a third of your weight. You really ought to take better care of yourself, Donatello Splinterson.”

That caused Donnie to blink, questions rising in his mind that he could mostly start to form answers to. That wasn’t his second name. Mistaken identity? With a mutant turtle? Not likely. But with a yokai? He didn’t know of any yokai turtles by the name of Donatello. She had data about whoever she thought he was though, and he had nothing on her. “Then I presume you’re….?” he trailed off, giving her the chance to fill in the information he was lacking.

“That’s correct. Agent Jane Augustine. John Bishop’s successor, and the one you and your brothers have persisted to be an annoyance to,” Augustine supplied, adjusting her glasses again before rising to her feet once more. “I have to commend you for the setbacks you’ve given me. No one else has managed to break into government security as often as you-...”

Augustine’s speech broke off when she noticed something, her head twitching to get a different angle. She was silent for a moment, then voiced the subject of her derailed thoughts. “Your eyes are the wrong color.”

Oh. Well that was easy. Apparently this other Donatello didn’t have delectably golden eyes like him. “Maybe your sources are just colorblind,” Donnie sassed back.

“And you have an attitude…,” Augustine noted, eyes narrowing slightly. Donnie knew the signs of a brilliant mind churning through possibilities when he saw it. And sure enough a bud of excitement was starting to rise in her frame. “...Where are you from?”

“Earth,” Donnie answered automatically, giving the vaguest response as possible just to be a pain.

Augustine didn’t seem perturbed, instead gripping his chin for a moment. “Which Earth?” she asked.

Donnie realized what was going on the moment Augustine’s thoughts were confirmed by his raising brows. Drawing a breath to smother back her breakthrough, Augustine released him before turning to the others hanging back at the entrance of the room. “Get me a full blood, fluid, and tissue sample immediately. From this one, and the one that was with him. Documented currently under the name Michaelangelo-”

She started to direct her workers, but as soon as Donnie heard enough evidence they had Lil Mikey as well he snapped. “If you even scratch my brother I will blow up this entire establishment. With or without people in it.”

Augustine looked surprised to be interrupted, but politely let him finish before she laughed. “And how will you do that? You’re my ward now. And I have you in chains, and your mystic abilities effectively nullified.”

As her assistants moved to comply with her orders Augustine stepped back, a smile growing on her lips as she watched her new toy squirm and try to pull back from the prying hands. The restraint holding his left arm was transferred to a separate device that allowed them to keep it taught as they lowered it to where they could more easily access it. Donnie struggled fruitlessly against all of the chains, yanking until he could feel the metal biting into his hands and feet, especially when one of them circled wordlessly around behind him. It immediately made him feel isolated, and claustrophobic. His scarred shell was exposed to their invasive hands, the contact delicate but still earning a warning hiss from him. Another set of hands was reaching towards his face, and Donnie pulled back for just a moment before lurching forward without fully thinking.

The monotonous emptiness with which the assistant had been working shattered with shriek from the one Donnie currently had his teeth sank into. It didn’t matter that they had a surgical gown covering their forearm, it was already shredded through. Donnie was aiming for blood, and he got it. The other assistants scattered with various startled noises as Donnie’s victim punched him in the nose, as if they could get him to let go like some rabid dog. They drew their own blood from him, but he refused to release them, even as they yanked against him.

“Doctor, please,” Augustine spoke up calmly, raising her hand to still the commotion as soon as a fist had been used. “I prefer to have my wards physically unharmed as much as possible,” she chastised, striding forward and moving her raised hand to the side of Donnie’s jaw. “There are much more efficient ways to open a mouth…”

Donnie yelped as her finger wedged into his joint, pressing against a nerve and making him snap his jaw open and pull away from the source of the pain. As soon as they were free the assistant scurried back to the others and Augustine calmly withdrew her hand. She paused for a moment to let Donnie spit the blood from his mouth before reaching forward again to snatch his chin in her hand once more. Forcing him to look in her direction, Augustine gave him a slight smile. “Behave yourself, Donatello. I might be a forgiving woman, but many of my employees are not. Especially when you’ve damaged them as such,” she cautioned, reaching her free hand up to smudge away the blood dripping from his nose, but ignoring the lines running down his chin.

Donnie just gave a snarled hiss in response. “Try it again and we’ll see if they lose a finger or two next.”

The response earned a single syllable, mirthless chuckle from Augustine. Pausing for a moment, as if daring him to try biting her, she eventually released him again. Turning for the door, she casually grabbed a damp wipe from one of the carts that had been pulled in to clean her hands. “Evangeline, you’re excused to wash up. But please take samples from the wound for me if you will,” she directed on her path to the exit. “The rest of you finish up here, then meet me in the other rooms. Drop him to the floor if you must.”

Apparently the fear of being bitten was overridden by whatever hold Augustine had over them, for the assistants returned to their assigned task with just a bit more caution than before. At first Donnie thought he was going to be knocked unconscious, but instead the other restraint on his arm was moved like the other one. And this time, instead of just being stretched across a clothesline, mechanical arms with mildly padded poles at the ends curled out from the walls. A breath half left Donnie’s lungs as the poles collided with the back of his shoulders and legs, pushing him forward as the chains kept him taught, lowering him forward until he was pressed against the floor. It made the inside of his elbow harder to reach, but they didn’t seem to care, a clasp slipping over his hand to keep him from twisting his arm as they brought a needle towards it. Donnie snarled, and hissed, and forced his body against the abundance of fetters binding him in place to no avail. It was too much. The wrong kind of weight against his exposed skin. Cold, unforgiving pressure on his scarred back, squeezing air from his lungs. Sharp edges digging into his limbs while they stretched his muscles just barely below the point of damage. Drawing the largest breath he could manage, Donnie released his irritation in the form of a long, headache inducing bellow.

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This scene was plaguing my brain all day today |D

If anyone is worried this is the most I'll get into in regards to violence against someone that can't fight back. I'm not planning on getting all that dark =u=b

[oblivionsdream]

Hey @oblivionsdream !

I have 2 questions - bear with me…

As you know, I love your work, but have only just recently started actively engaging with it.

I actually first came across you and your Jester x knight OC’s at least a year or two ago, when a fellow DinLuke shipper tagged it with #dinluke, so it showed up on my feed. If you aren’t into Star Wars and are unfamiliar with it - that’s the romantic pairing between Din Djarin (the Mandalorian) and Luke Skywalker.

For a while, I actually thought that it was a medieval DinLuke au because there are quite a few fanarts exploring that ship in different universes (including ours) and different timelines, etc.

One of the things that lent credence to this idea was the fact that the king looks so much like the Jedi, Quinlan Vos.

The characters do also closely match the personalities that a lot of the fandom have collectively given Din and Luke on tumblr - like Luke actually being a feral mischievous gremlin underneath his serene Jedi facade, and Din actually being the more composed (and often lovingly exasperated) of the two.

It was a surprise when I looked more into it and realised that they are original characters, completely unrelated to DinLuke and Star Wars as a whole.

So I guess I’m just curious what was the inspiration behind the Jingly Menace and his steadfast, taciturn knight? Was it a song or a meme or just watching a medieval show and during a scene with a jester, you had a sudden burst of creative juices like “Eureka! Pretty jester x hot knight!”

Sorry if you’ve already answered this and I’ve just missed it while scrolling through your page.

My other question (this I know has been queried to JM himself but he nervously evaded the question) when JM is shown crying in one of the first pictures you posted of him, what was the actual reason that you had in mind behind it? Was it just simply because his attempts to get the hot mysterious knights attention had thus far been unsuccessful (from his perspective anyway) and he succumbed to a private moment of vulnerability?

Every time I look at it, I’m dying to know!

Anyway, love you! Hope the JM comic is still on the horizon at some point - coz I would buy and read the crap out of it!

Hey there!

I honestly had no idea what DinLuke is though I've seen the tags. My knowledge of Star Wars comes from whatever I have absorbed against my will being online and when my best friend made me watch the prequels a few years ago 😂

So Jester solely came to be because I've loved jesters for many years at this point. I just find them fun but there's never enough content for them out there so I just wanted to make my own oc. I also just love trickster characters- anything fae like or I always adored Loki in Norse mythology so he's very based into those kind of mischievous vibes and humor.

Augustine was purely accidental. I saw some Tumblr post about a knight or maybe it was about a jester and a knight (I no longer remember) so I thought it would be funny to doodle Jester with a random knight being a menace asking him about his big sword. Augustine was never supposed to be a character. But then I just kept coming up with other ideas for Jester and this random knight whose face he never saw and whelp here we are.

Soooo the crying. It was definitely a private moment no one else was supposed to witness. Part of something I find interesting with playing with Jester's character is the idea that sometimes the seemingly happiest and funniest people are also the saddest but they just cover it up with a smile. His backstory before coming to the castle is still something that affects him but also he feels lonely at court. He constantly craves the validation of attention he didnt really get as a kid and is constantly surrounded by people but also he feels very lonely in court. He is in a strange place of being neither noble but also not quite a commoner/servant. Nobility will look down on him and not take him serious because he's just a silly guy but the servants are wary to get too close because of his close relationship with the king and the fact that he technically has a higher status as Court Jester. He is one of Monty's closest confidantes but his own secrets keep him from being fully honest with his king. It's a strange place of feeling alone in the middle of a crowded court where everyone sees his silly jester persona and make up but no one sees beneath it.

I still hope to make a comic! Just trying to find the time to get all my ideas in order. Thanks for liking my silly guys!

[mayasaura]

So Anastasia is waiting in the tomb to reseal it of it gets opened. Does John know this? Because I am remember him at some point telling Harrow she can't have opened the Tomb it's (currently) closed. Because one - well that's a strange capability to hide from John unless you see a need to open the Tomb either multiple times or without him finding out. Two - Anastasia's reaction to Harrow coming in and then walking out would be interesting. And also the timing of when given Alecto's haunting.

That is a very good question. Does John know that Anastasia has been made into—or made herself into—a construct that can reseal the Tomb? Or did he only mean for her to die there, and take his secrets with her? I honestly have no idea. My first assumption had been that John arranged it so he could visit Alecto in secret, but that would be very risky and there's no evidence to support it. We don't know if he even knows it's possible for the ward to be breached and then resealed.

I do think what we saw in there was a construct made from Anastasia's corpse, rather than Anastasia's revenant. Maybe she's a hideous corpse, her revenant bound to a construct of her own bones, but it's impossible to say at this point how much of Anastasia is left after ten thousand years. She may or may not have been aware of Harrow's coming and going. But let's say she's in there, and conscious, and has been standing guard over Alecto for ten thousand years. Who put her there?

Anastasia worked closely with Cassiopeia, and Cassiopeia knew a great deal more than John about blood wards. It's possible she and Anastasia planned to be able to access the Tomb without John's knowledge. Cassiopeia has been known to build secret mechanisms at the heart of Houses. And if Augustine meant it about Harrow being very much like Anastasia, then using her own bones as the material for the mechanism sounds just like her, too.

Evidence from the labs suggests that it was Anastasia and Cassiopeia who created the skeletal servitors at Canaan House, but also that they asked for John's input on that project. So that's sum zero; any of them could have done it.

Putting aside for a moment who set it up, you bring up another great question: Has anyone other than Harrow been in there?

If it's John's doing, he probably has. Boring answer, doesn't delve into any deep mysteries. If it was Anastasia and Cassiopeia... Well. I can think of at least one time the Tomb was a sitting duck. At the moment of Harrow's conception there was a thanergy bloom large enough to irradiate the planet, and the key to the Tomb was already on the Ninth. Literally anyone could have rolled the Rock away, provided they knew who Gideon was and knew that the thanergy bloom was going to happen. I can't say whether or not anyone did, but it would have been possible.

This has me thinking about some of the other unanswered questions. Like how weirdly convenient it is that Harrow's parents were able to reinvent the Resurrection to make her, when there's no evidence of them having an expertise in spirit magic. And how oddly coincidental the timing, that preparations to put the plan into action must have started around the time of Gideon's birth. Why create one last child of Anastasia's direct line, if it comes at the expense of any future for her House? How does Blood of Eden have inside knowledge of the Sixth House, millennia out of date? Who sent the message Aim carries, and who is it meant for?

It does seem like there's a third party working behind the scenes, and there has been for a very long time. Someone with a great deal of knowledge about spirit magic, who knows about the vow Alecto made to Anastasia, who has reason to want the truth to come out. Whether that third party is Anastasia, or Anastasia working in concert with Cassiopeia, or some secret third option, I can't be sure. But there is a whiff of conspiracy about it that has only gotten stronger with the revelations in Nona.

But really, I just want Anastasia to be there of her own volition, for some more dignified reason than to act as John's sepulchral porter. Might as well make Samael into a coat rack to complete the set.

[averseunhinged]

it's finishing things time and oh yes. things will be finished. this week, it's the augustine au that's been languishing, because it's at the brackets and pronouns part of the process.

snippet 1

snippet 2

snippet 3

“Gareth,” she exclaimed congenially, like they were old friends who hadn't seen each other in a long time, not someone who'd attacked her while she’d slaughtered everyone with him. “Gare. Gary. Gaz. Gazzy. Gazzer.” She laughed, bright and effervescent, and tilted to the side, clapped her hands together and brought them up to her chin. “Y'all have such fun nicknames. Just thinking about them gives me the giggles.”

Gareth showed his appreciation for her affability with a sudden flurry of struggling. The man holding him easily snapped Gareth's arm up and squeezed until he cried out, crushing his wrist. The long, slim knife he'd produced fell, useless, to the ground with a muted clang.

"Oh," the woman simpered. "That looks bad. So sorry about that. We usually try to make things quick, but you know how it is. Gotta keep someone around for a little chat. So many questions, so little time, and we're just dying to know the answers."

The woman paused and waited until the vampire holding Gareth said, "I don't think he appreciates puns, gorgeous."

"Aw!" she pouted. "That's no fun. Does Augustine remove your sense of humor when they hire you? A little brainwashing to go along with their other experiments?"

"You'd know all about our experiments, wouldn't you, Angel?" Gareth's voice was as vicious as it was hoarse and pained. His accent was faint, but recognizably Irish.

It was a poor attempt to antagonize her and only made her laugh, delighted. "Oh, you do know who I am! Yay! That's such a time-saver, you have no idea. So convenient when people already have some idea of what's about to happen to them.”

He spat in her face, but she dodged several feet to the side with supernatural reflexes, did a little spin, and retraced her path in a gleeful samba step, arms snaking in practiced ballroom precision.

“Nuh-uh, Gareth,” she sing-songed. “Bad boy. We know all your naughty, little tricks. Tell me, have you starting having stomach problems yet? A little gastric upset? We've noticed you buy a lot of Tums, so I'm going to go out on a limb and say you are. But it's not so bad yet. Right? Just a little discomfort and acid reflux.” She tittered again when he shook his head in denial. "There's so much vervain in your system; it's impressive you can eat anything at all. That takes fortitude. I admire that." She leaned in very close to him. "Sure, your spit'll make my skin sizzle like bacon in a cast iron skillet, but have you ever stopped to wonder what they've done to the herb they're pumping you full of?"

He was silent for a moment, the music's dance beat thumping with the steady, even breathing of the person holding the camera. “I don't listen to lying demons.”

She leaned back again and sighed. Shook her is manufactured disappointment. “Funny story. I'm the worst liar. Obfuscation, distraction, playing a character? That, I can do. But direct untruths? No way. I get so nervous and tongue-tied!”

“It's true,” the vampire holding Gareth confirmed. “You can always see the moment when she wants to lie, but can't quite figure out how. It's adorable. Makes a face like a disgruntled kitten.”

He let go of Gareth's injured shoulder and reached forward, his pointer outstretched.

“I will break that finger, if you use it to boop my nose,” she snarled. The giggly, ditzy sorority girl she’d been up until then was gone entirely.

“Someday, gorgeous. I'll get you to loosen up someday.”

“And maybe someday, you won't have brain matter caked in your nails, but I’m not holding my breath.”

“See?” he said to Gareth and poked him in the cheek instead. “Look at that face. Adorable.”

“I don't think Gareth agrees with you, do you, Gareth? No, Gareth thinks I'm a big, scary monster," she said and wiggled clawed fingers at him. "Your fanatical Dr. Mengeles didn't make me. Do you really think that's the only reason I'd give a damn about all of this? No, don't answer that. Of course you do." She stilled for a moment. In the background of the audio was a faint, but growing siren. Her voice was hard and hateful when she spoke again. "Sadly, we're out of time."

The man went to work then, letting go of the human's useless, shattered wrist and wrapping his arm under Gareth's shoulder, around his chest. The other arm was banded around his waist in an intimate hold. He leaned his head against the trapped man's temple and cooed like he would to a lover who had pleased him. "Brace yourself, darling. This is going to hurt."

[11cleyvaart]

Maybe Quimbget intimacy headcanons please?😘😘😘😘😘(I hope I’m not asking too much but I love your take on gadget and Quimby a lot🥰🥰🥰)

This has been sitting in my asks for a while because my dense self has no idea what intimacy means. So I'll try to answer this the best I can. I'll do both 1983 and 2015 because to me they're two separate worlds with two different perspectives.

So Suggestive topics I guess

Augustin, 1983

As Augustin, he was pretty much a regular man. He had feelings and drives as anyone else. But not to the same extent, he didn't have the push for sex until he finally got with Quimby. 

And once he got with Quimby did his life take a turn in ways, he found his ways in the bedroom. 

He's a top, no way around it. He likes the idea of being in control, and even driving the way of the intimate time. 

But he also is a little dense when it comes to understanding what Quimby wants. This got worse when he was turned into Gadget.

Quimby, 1983

Repressed and stunted as a man. He didn't know much about what he liked or didn't like. He just knew he didn't like being married to a woman. 

Quimby found has an appetite for sex when he got with Augustin. He loves it, and at times will do everything he can to get it. This gets worse when Augustin turns into Gadget. 

Quimby has a lack of sex in his life when Gadget comes to be, and he tries his best to make his intentions clear. But Gadget doesn't read them very well. 

Quimby likes to be taken and is extremely happy to be a bottom in his relationship. But he does at times ride from the top but mostly in cowgirl style. 

As as couple, these two arent much for snuggling or cuddle. They have love language of acts, Gadget/Augustin will take Quimby out for food and Quimby will boost his man with words and praise. But they are pretty normal when it comes to love making, Quimby likes it as Gadget gives it to him, rough at times. Most the time Quimby will try his hardest to get his intentions across.

~~~~

Augustin, 2015

2015 Augustin is a simple man, he's just not interested in the birds and the bees. He's only interested in a connection with a deep bond before he can open up sexually. He's a demisexual.

With that said, once he opens up he'll have times of intense and long love making sessions.

He's only had one lover in his life of just Quimby, being each other's first time.

Likes being in control of their time in the bedroom but will happily be on his back to get some attention to the lower half. Can be a little rough but doesn't mean it.

As Gadget he's more unlikely to understand the advances Quimby tries to get across him. Only when does Quimby stop his advances does Gadget turn it around and come after Quimby.

Quimby, 2015

Afraid to be active in the way of sex, firstly due to his religion but secondly due to being unsure if he could trust someone with him being trans.

Was the first to gain attraction to Augustin when he first saw him but was afraid to go forward with his feelings.

Once he found out what he liked and wanted in his life was able to open up.

Augustin was his first and only.

Loves being taken, usually under in missionary or on top riding.

Only time he's in control is when he's giving attention to Augustin's "gadget"

Once Augustin becomes Gadget did the love making come to a halt. With the occasional times Gadget remembers who he once was does he come back to Quimby.

Together these two like to snuggle, cuddle and just be around each other non-stop. Because Augustin doesn't always have the feeling for sex, they mostly just like to be in each other's presence. But they do have times they are nasty together and it goes for a while.

They match each other's crazy and can be considered freaks. Quimby likes a little roughness and Augustin likes to be rough. They also have kinks they like to partake in.

They're relationship took years to get to milestones in bedroom their behaviour.

[confusedbyinterface]

The thing I like about St Augustine is he can be very sarcastic and mean when he feels like it. You open up On Christian Doctrine and the first thing he does is start arguing with anyone who might criticize his book.

To those who do not understand what is here set down, my answer is, that I am not to be blamed for their want of understanding. It is just as if they were anxious to see the new or the old moon, or some very obscure star, and I should point it out with my finger: if they had not sight enough to see even my finger, they would surely have no right to fly into a passion with me on that account. As for those who, even though they know and understand my directions, fail to penetrate the meaning of obscure passages in Scripture, they may stand for those who, in the case I have imagined, are just able to see my finger, but cannot see the stars at which it is pointed. And so both these classes had better give up blaming me, and pray instead that God would grant them the sight of their eyes.

Just "If this book doesn't help you, don't blame me. Maybe try praying to be less stupid, so you can figure it out?"

He then goes after people who might say his book is useless because they already understand the scripture, and he just goes on and on for pages like "What about this guy who miraculously learned how to read? Should we stop teaching people how to read?" "Maybe you shouldn't teach children any language, since the Holy Spirit lets you speak in tongues?" "You think you're better than Paul? Better than Moses? You must be so holy" before finally "and if you're always telling people your interpretation of scripture rather than letting God miraculously put it in their brain, you can't blame me for doing the same."

And so although it will sufficiently appear in the course of the work itself that no one can justly object to this undertaking of mine, which has no other object than to be of service, yet as it seemed convenient to reply at the outset to any who might make preliminary objections, such is the start I have thought good to make on the road I am about to traverse in this book.

[holystormfire]

Luke 24:13-35

Easter Wednesday - The Supper at Emmaus

Friend of the Humble (Supper at Emmaus),

Painted by Léon-Augustin L'Hermitte (1824-1925),

Painted in 1892,

Oil on canvas

© Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

Gospel Reading

Two of the disciples of Jesus were on their way to a village called Emmaus, seven miles from Jerusalem, and they were talking together about all that had happened. Now as they talked this over, Jesus himself came up and walked by their side; but something prevented them from recognising him. He said to them, ‘What matters are you discussing as you walk along?’ They stopped short, their faces downcast.

Then one of them, called Cleopas, answered him, ‘You must be the only person staying in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have been happening there these last few days.’ ‘What things?’ he asked. ‘All about Jesus of Nazareth’ they answered ‘who proved he was a great prophet by the things he said and did in the sight of God and of the whole people; and how our chief priests and our leaders handed him over to be sentenced to death, and had him crucified. Our own hope had been that he would be the one to set Israel free. And this is not all: two whole days have gone by since it all happened; and some women from our group have astounded us: they went to the tomb in the early morning, and when they did not find the body, they came back to tell us they had seen a vision of angels who declared he was alive. Some of our friends went to the tomb and found everything exactly as the women had reported, but of him they saw nothing.’

Then he said to them, ‘You foolish men! So slow to believe the full message of the prophets! Was it not ordained that the Christ should suffer and so enter into his glory?’ Then, starting with Moses and going through all the prophets, he explained to them the passages throughout the scriptures that were about himself.

When they drew near to the village to which they were going, he made as if to go on; but they pressed him to stay with them. ‘It is nearly evening’ they said ‘and the day is almost over.’ So he went in to stay with them. Now while he was with them at table, he took the bread and said the blessing; then he broke it and handed it to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognised him; but he had vanished from their sight. Then they said to each other, ‘Did not our hearts burn within us as he talked to us on the road and explained the scriptures to us?’

They set out that instant and returned to Jerusalem. There they found the Eleven assembled together with their companions, who said to them, ‘Yes, it is true. The Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon.’ Then they told their story of what had happened on the road and how they had recognised him at the breaking of bread.

Reflection on the painting

Our painting combines today's Gospel story, where Jesus is breaking bread and the onlookers suddenly recognise him, with portraying Jesus as Friend of the Humble, the title of our painting. I do think this is a beautiful, gentle, gripping painting. Three generations of a family are depicted, sharing a meal. Before Léon-Augustin L'Hermitte painted this canvas it would be fair to say that artists always tried to represent Jesus as majestic, full of glory and maybe somewhat distant from normal day-to-day life. Our artist masterfully places Jesus in a contemporary setting of 1892, when this was painted. The painting emphasises that Jesus became human and that he did walk among us.

Vincent van Gogh was one of L'Hermitte's greatest admirers. In one of his letters he wrote: "If every month Le Monde Illustré published one of his compositions... it would be a great pleasure for me to be able to follow it. It is certain that for years I have not seen anything as beautiful as this scene by L'Hermitte... I am too preoccupied by L'Hermitte this evening to be able to talk of other things." Quite the accolade to have Van Gogh write about one's artistry this way.

As the risen Lord approached the two disciples, his first act was to draw them into conversation, asking them to share the nature of their discussion. He sought to hear their tale; a tale filled with sorrow and loss. He wanted to fully engage with them in their moment of grief. He accepted them as they were, demonstrating a profound respect for their current state on their spiritual journey. This is precisely how the Lord presents himself to us: he encounters us in our present circumstances, encouraging us to open our hearts to him, to express our deepest thoughts and feelings. It was only after attentively hearing the disciples' lament that the unrecognized visitor responded. His words cast their despairing narrative in an entirely new light. He made sense of their grief, by placing it in the greater narrative of God's plan - a narrative not concluded by death, but crowned with light and triumph.

by Father Patrick van der Vorst

[call-me-doll-face]

These Ties That Bind

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Warnings for chapter: slight angst

A/N: Sorry guys, this is a rewrite of the story i posted the other day! I didn't feel like I'd done the chapter justice. This is just getting to know the characters and setting the feel for the story! It's my firs time writing for avatar so please be patient! Any feedback or constructive criticism are welcome! Let me know what you think, if you like it I'll keep updating! @jakesullyfatjuicypeen thank you for giving me the confidence to try this! ❤️

“Hey, I’m Jake.”

“Rory. Nice to meet you.”

“Right back at ya, doc.”

Jake Sully had been right about one thing, the most dangerous thing about pandora IS that you may grow to love her too much... and love her I did.

I had been filled with a sense of wonder when I'd first arrived to be grace Augustine’s assistant. I thrived on the need to learn, the need to devour the information put in front of me. Grace really enjoyed that, i dare say she even respected it.

I was there when jake Sully arrived. I was witness to all his chaos, fell victim to his cocky tendencies a time or two. We struck up an unlikely friendship (that was very involuntary on my part) and that was the end of it.

Or the beginning... depends how you look at it.

“Will you stop following me? I have work to do jake.”

“You work too much, doc. Spend some time with your favorite cripple.”

“Jake!”

I was with jake every step of the way.

When he'd gotten separated on that fateful outing with grace and they couldn't recover him before nightfall, id sat beside his link unit for hours. I'd refused to leave, even though I had been completely and utterly exhausted.

“Where is jake?” I ask as grace and the others return from their outing, eyes searching for the obnoxious man and not finding him.

“What happened, what did you do?” I instantly start accusing, fear coursing through me. Grace gently grabs my shoulders, forcing my brown eyes to meet her own before speaking to me.

“Rory, he’s going to be fine. There was an incident and he got separated. He will pick him up tomorrow morning.” My hands shove her away from me. How dare she, how dare she downplay the seriousness of the situation.

“Why did you leave him out there! How could you! Rules be damned, they can go to hell!”

I'd been the first one he'd seen when he finally woke from the link, gasping wildly, filled with excitement, and instantly telling me about where he was, who he was with. Honestly, he talked so fast I could hardly keep up.

“Jake, open your eyes. Jake, look at me, come on you stubborn ass.” I say, tapping his stubbled cheek in attempts to get him to wake from the link. My breath leaves me in a harsh exhale when his pretty blue eyes slowly blink open. “Yeah, there you are… there you go.”

Gripping the back of his neck I help him sit up, eyes moving over him with worry. He just gives me a blinding smile, laughing as his hands grip my arms.

“You’ll never believe where I am doc!”

There were nights when we’d just sit laughing as he’d tell me about the wonders of the land. He’d teach me the language as he learned it, both of us giggling as he’d imitate how Neytiri would call him names.

“The stars are so different here… I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” We lay side by side, shoulders touching as we look up at the Pandoran sky.

“Nah, they’re the same stars. Just different perspective.” Scoffing over at him, all I can do is roll my eyes before looking back to the sky.

We lay there in silence for a little while. Every now and then his finger will lightly run over mine, seeking the warmth and comfort from the physical contact.

“Do you know which one is earth?” My voice is soft as I ask him the question, not willing to disturb the peacefulness of the moment. When the silence stretches on for another couple minutes, I start to think maybe he won’t answer.

“Yeah, its right-” Leaning up on an elbow, his big body leans over me slightly, pointing to a bright light in the sky. “-There.”

“It’s beautiful.” I whisper softly.

“Yeah… They are.” He murmurs, eyes that look like molten gold studying my face.

I got to watch how his affection and admiration of the Na’vi woman grew.

“I just… She makes me feel so alive doc!” Jake motions excitedly as he follows me, trying to get in front of me so that he could have my full attention. Needy man. “I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s fierce, proud, always keeps me on my toes!” When he once again gets in my way and interrupts my work, I glare up at him in aggravation.

“She sounds wonderful, jake. Now please, every time I try to work you make it impossible. Go. Away.”

The good also came with the bad though… I was on his side every step of the way when things went to shit. I stayed in that little trailer in the hallelujah mountains, hiding from Miles Quaritch.

Jake somehow got the clan to accept grace and I, though they were very wary of us. What had happened with the school grace and ran had a lasting affect on them… who could blame them right? Humans always have a way of destroying everything they touch.

Seeing that I was always the one to tell jake how it is, the two of us always butting heads, it was only natural I was the one to yell at his over mating with Neytiri. I love her, but she was promised to tsu’tey, they both had their responsibilities to the clan and pig headed jake had gone and fucked it up.

I’d gotten over it quickly of course, knowing how much he loved her.

Then the attack on the home tree happened. Then grace.

“JAKE! JAKE, WHERE ARE YOU?” I shout out as I stumble through the destruction. My skin in hot to the touch, some spots burnt. Soot and ash cling to my skin and hair and my throat burns due to the heavy smoak surrounding us.

The Na’vi people scream and cry around me. Some stumble around, shouting much like I am in search of their families… others sit on the ground, sobbing as they hold someone to their chest…

I refuse to let my eyes settle on the bodies... I know that if I see them, if the reality that these people had been massacred in front of me sinks in before I can find jake… God I might just lose it.

“I’m here! Doc!” I hear him before I see him, his big blue body emerging through the smoke and barreling towards me.

“Oh god, oh thank god!” a sob is torn from my burning throat at the sight of my best friend, very much alive and moving towards me with desperation in his eyes.

We reach each other at the same time. He couches down, gathering me in his arms before standing to his full height, lifting me easily off the ground. Usually, I would complin when jake uses his strength to treat me like a rag doll but right now all I want is for him to pull me closer.

“Are you hurt? Doc, focus, are you hurt?” He cups my face, hand covering the entire side of it, fingertips pressing into my hair and onto the back of my head. Those pretty eyes of his search my dirty face. Hand shakes my head slightly to get my attention on him, prevent me from spiraling out of control.

“I-I’m okay… Neytiri?”

“She’s okay. She’s safe.” Pulling me back into his chest he presses my ear to his chest, letting me listen to his heart as his body heaves under me. He’s sweaty, dirty much like I am but I just cling to him as he shushes me gently, chin resting on my head.

Devastation had consumed my very being… I felt like I was dying inside as I took in the destruction around me. Everyone had lost so much, and all for greed.

When Jake had become Toruk Makto and united all the clans in order to fight the sky people, I’d been so proud. However, when the day came, I couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down my face.

Jake had seen this, his face dropping, and confidence quickly replaced with worry.

His big hands gently gripped my arm, knowing how easily he could hurt me in his avatar body, and pulled me aside. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s with the tears, little bird?”

I can’t help but laugh at the nickname. He’d given It to me the first time he’d taken me for a ride on his ikran, Bob. He’d laughed at how happy I’d been in the sky, flying with the wind in my hair. Had said with a fond yet teasing voice that if I weren’t born a human, I would have been a bird. Probably had been, in a previous life.

The nickname had obviously stuck.

“I can’t lose you too Jake.” My voice comes out small, so unlike my normal loud self. I’d be ashamed of the way I’m acting if I weren’t so afraid I’d never see him again.

“Oh, come on. You know damn well that I’m too stubborn to die.” He laughs light heartedly, trying to cheer me up as he kneels so he can be level with me.

Even with me standing, my face is level with his while he kneels. Any other time the size difference would make me laugh… now I just can’t bring myself to find it funny.

When I don’t give him a response and continue to stare at the ground, he lets out a heavy sigh. “Come on kid, I don’t want to leave here knowing you’re upset… just in case...” He doesn’t have to finish. The words go unspoken but we both hear them clear as day.

In case I don’t come back.

His hand engulfs the entire back of my head as he pulls me forward, pressing his forehead against mine in a rare display of affection between us. I don’t fight him for once, just lean into the embrace and breathe him in.

Neither of us notice Neytiri approach, but I jump when I feel her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll take care of him, human.” she says gently.

Neytiri hated me at first, telling jake that I needed to be with my own kind. Over time, seeing how much jake cared for me had softened her. After that it didn’t take long for me to grow on her as well.

“Take care of yourself too.” I demand as I hug her tightly. Well, it probably didn’t feel very tight to her, but you know.

After that I watched them fly away.

“Come on tiri, you got this! Come on, just one more push!” Her screams fill the mauri as she tries to push the baby out. Jake and I are flanking her on either side, letting her grip our hands as the pain wracks through her.

She whimpers, head rolling to the side so her tired eyes can meet mine. I can tell she wants to give up, the labor being complicated and long, taking everything out of her. Jake is panicking, worried to death something is going wrong and that something will happen to her or the baby. Right now, I have to be her strength, so I stroke her hair out of her face and give her a stern look.

“One more. Give me one more.” Sweat rolling down her face, tears filling her eyes, she nods her head to me. Gripping my hand tightly once more I watch in amazement as she gathers her strength and once more lets out of loud scream as she pushes.

My eyes widen and my head whips to the side as a cry, strong and mighty, is heard.

I’d never seen anything so beautiful, watches as the little blue baby is cleaned and wrapped in a blanket. “You have a son… You did so good, tiri. He’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, little human.” Neytiri is wrecked, absolutely exhausted but she still reaches a hand out to stroke my cheek in thanks.

“Come here little bird, come meet your nephew.” Jake says, and my heart has never felt so full.

“Oh, I’m going to get you, you little rat!” I threaten, lunging after Lo’ak as he squeals in mock fright.

I chase him in circles around his mom and dad, both laughing at our antics.

“Oh no! neteyam, save me!” He shrieks diving to the side.

I gasp loudly as the older boy (who is damn near the same size as me) jumps onto my back, sending us both to the ground in a pile of giggles.

“Dog pile!” Jake shouts and I quickly send him a glare before all of the kids jump onto me, laughing and screaming.

“No, no! mmph!” I gasp as I try to wiggle out from under the little brats that are my nieces and nephews. “Help!... Can’t… breathe!” I wheeze out, greatly exaggerating that fact.

Of course, stupid jake makes absolutely no move to help me.

‘I hate you.’ I mouth to him, and he just sends me a cocky grin.

‘I hate you more.’ He mouths back, playfully flashing his fangs.

“What is it, sweet boy?” I ask as lo’ak walks to me, dropping his head onto my shoulder while I chop fruit. I’d grown a soft spot for the younger boy, so much like jake when I’d first met him that my heart grows with joy.

“Nothing.” Instantly I can tell he’s lying to me. Dropping the knife, I turn to him, sitting so we face each other, knees touching.

“You have never been able to lie to me. What is it?”

“Nobody sees me. All I am is a disappointment to the family. They all want me to be like Neteyam, the perfect son, But I never will be.” He refuses to look at me, but I can still see the water that gathers on his lash line. His ears fold back, tail winding around himself and giving away just how badly he feels.

Reaching out, I run a soothing hand over his ear. “I see you, sweet boy. I am so proud of you.” Scooting closer to him, I gather him in my arms, which is comical given how much bigger he already is than me.  “I promise your father is also proud of you, lo’ak. He just doesn’t know how to show it.”

---

“DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND HOW YOU’RE MAKING THEM FEEL, JAKE? HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO THEM THE WAY YOU DO!” I shout at him, hands shoving at him as he flashes his fangs in anger at me. We are standing in the middle of their mauri, all the kids kneeling on the floor while me and their father fight. Neytiri stands to the side, ears folded against her head and watching us with sad eyes, but not stepping in.

“I AM THEIR FATHER, ITS MY JOB!” he shouts back, stepping into my space threateningly as his chest heaves with rage. His hands tremble at his sides, tail whipping behind him.

“THEN ACT LIKE IT! THEY ARE YOUR SONS, NOT SOME RANDOM SQUAD! EVEN NEYTIRI HAS TRIED TO TALK TO YOU AND YOU JUST BRUSH HER OFF!” The argument is getting more and more heated, tension levels rising to an almost catastrophic level.

“Tsmuke… it’s fine, really.” Lo’ak says in a quiet voice, not wanting his dad and I to fight because of him, feeling like he’s already caused enough trouble.

“Yeah guys, please don’t fight.” Neteyam agrees, trying to play mediator.

“No boys. No.” it takes everything in me to not snap at them, take my anger out of them. Instead, my words are just stern, firm. I watch as they duck their heads and nod in compliance before turning back to jake. “Fix. This.” I hiss, before turning and storming out of their home.

---

“I got nothing. I got no plan. But I can protect this family. That I can do.” My heart breaks at his words, not looking at them as they share a moment of intimacy. “Little bird.” Jake says to get my attention and finally I look up at them.

I let him take my hand, let him gently tug me into the circle of their arms. “Wherever we go, this family is our fortress.” His words are full of conviction, and my heart breaks further as I gently pull away from them. They both watch me with confusion, not understanding why I all the sudden need space from them.

“Jake, Neytiri…I...” my voice breaks off as I try to remain strong. How do I tell two of the most important people in my life that I can’t go with them? That as much as I’m dying inside, I NEED to stay here…

Thankfully (and selfishly) I don’t have to. Much like he always does, jake picks up on the words I’m not saying. I watch as his big body stiffens. My golden eyes narrow on me harshly, ears pressing back and baring his fangs as his tail whips in anger.

“No. No, you ARE coming.” He snarls, and I raise my chin defiantly. I know he doesn’t mean to be harsh, I know he’s just scared and doesn’t want to lose me.

Neytiri senses the tension rising and presses a gentle hand to Jakes chest to calm him before looking to me, ears folded back as well. “Why, Yawne?”

My heart breaks further as the softness of the voice, the pain lacing it.

“I’ve been teaching the children here… making a difference... they need me...” I see jake open his mouth to retaliate, already knowing what he’s going to say, I need you, but Neytiri senses there’s more and sends him a silencing look. “I’m not Na’vi jake… I won’t be accepted into another clan after everything that’s happened… I can’t go... this is my place.”

Nobody says anything after my confession, a heavy silence filling the marui and suffocating us. I can see that jake is having a hard time accepting it, every bone in his body wanting to fight it, but finally his shoulders fall in defeat.

Letting out a shaky breath he pulls me against his hard chest, cradling me there. “What will I do without you, little bird?” He asks, and all I can do is hug him tightly as I squeeze my eyes shut.

----

Shortly after that, with a heavy heart, I watch as them and the children leave the clan.

Jake doesn’t look at me as he walks past, knowing if he does, he won’t have the strength to do what needs to be done.

Neytiri just sobs loudly, gripping my forearm before forcing herself to move on.

Kiri and tuktuk wrap me in tight hugs, whispering how much they’ll miss me and wish that I’d come with them.

Lo’ak is quick to pull me in, pressing his forehead to mine. “Nga yawne lu ere (I love you)” he says quietly, and I murmur it back to him before letting him go.

Neteyam is last, and he just gives me a sad smile. Taking my hand, he presses a beaded bracelet into my hand, and upon further inspection I see it’s not a bracelet at all. My eyes widen as I look up at the boy, gripping the song cord. “For when we meet again, tsmuke. (aunt)” and then he’s gone.

They’re gone…

But that’s just the beginning of the story.

[the-fluffiest-trainer]

[A video is attached, taken on Twilight's holocaster. It shows the road outside the pokeball factory, following a group of four: Twilight herself, Lysandre, and two Team Flare scientists. One of the scientists has green hair and matching sunglasses, and the other has pale purple hair and a similarly colored visor.]

That could have gone better. I don't like leaving Fluttershy like that.

I understand that. She is your friend, and disagreements between friends can be... messy. I know too well. But I was able to patch things up with Augustine, and so may you and Fluttershy.

I know. I'll... talk to her, when I feel up to it. Right now, though, I'd rather think about anything else. How did everything else go at the factory? What were you guys doing there?

[The green-haired scientist is the one to answer.]

Oh, we had a complete success, isn't that right, Celosia?

Absolutely! We've got all the insurance we need, now.

Insurance? What do you mean?

Master balls. In case anything ever goes wrong with the two legendaries, if they wake up one day and choose violence, we need a plan. Go on, Celly, show her what you've got.

[Celosia looks all around, and sees no one else around besides the group she's with. She reaches down the front of her shirt, frowning with the uncomfortable positioning, and then withdraws two master balls to show to Twilight. With them removed, she appears almost completely flat-chested.]

And here we go, two balls capable of containing gods, if need be. Or anything else, for that matter, but why use a master ball when something less will do?

[Celosia looks down at herself and sighs deeply.]

Bryony, you've got my usual pads in your purse, right? Please tell me you didn't leave them at the factory. Why must HRT be so pathetically slow and ineffective...

[Bryony, the green-haired one, opens her purse and hands over a pair of roughly hemispherical foam pads. She tucks the master balls away in their place.]

There's an idea. Hey, Lys, can we make a team to research better hormone treatments? Maybe if we extracted some life-power from Xerneas it could boost the effectiveness?

Ooh, I'll join that project, if you don't mind! My friend Rarity is going to fall into this world someday soon, whether she's in the next portal or the one after that, and she'll need a ready supply of pony-compatible HRT as well.

Hey, if we're waking up one of them, why not make it both? Let me feed my deadname to Yveltal and make it really dead.

[Lysandre puts one hand to his face as he walks, and shakes his head slightly.]

If we could please stay on topic... I believe we have enough dedicated research teams, but I suppose if you wish to use the labs on your own time, I shall not stop you. Just so long as your experiments do not interfere with ongoing work. That means the legendary pokemon should remain dormant.

Aww. Well, there's still lots to learn! Can't wait to get back to Geosenge!

[Video ends.]

[bigbadboyyo]

I've been forgetting to draw after work recently. I'm not honestly sure why. I've just been kind of going home watching Street Fighter 6 streams.

I got asked recently why I draw ghosts so much. It's a good question...They're simply just so easy to draw. I'm sure there is more than that... but I don't really think about it. I just draw them. I've always adored the concept of ghosts and how differently you can interpret them. It's very loose and interchangeable. If you asked me if I believed in them, I wouldn't know if I could answer that with certainty. I don't think I do, it'd just be too tragic to never die. Can you imagine being bound to this world even after death? (In a ghost voice) hell noOOooOOOoOOOo.

When I was young we had a school trip to St. Augustine. I was really hyped for it. I didn't really know what was gonna be there, I just was glad I didn't have to be in class for a day. It was a painfully long bus ride. I remember the seats felt so cramped. It felt like every student was going. The day before the trip a friend and I were hanging out around our neighborhood. There was this one house that looked empty. I don't know what it was but something made us stop there and look at the windows. Maybe it was the tall grass obscuring the house, or the way some of the windows didn't have curtains and all you could see was a formless void inside barely lit by the sunlight. The house was for sure abandoned, you could tell by the furniture left outside. It was inviting us to explore it. Before I could even get close to the entrance I remember being stopped by my friend as they pointed towards the window and we saw what looked like a ghostly figure. Two dark eyes and its mouth wide open. We ran. (I tried drawing it for the post. It looked kind of like this.) The next day was the trip, I'd just about forgotten about the events that preceded the day before. I was just so damn happy to have some fun. My friend must have felt the exact same way until we reached the gift shop. The gift shop had tons of goods, and I had a couple of dollars for some snacks. There was, however, a book about the ghosts that haunt the local spots in St. Augustine. I flipped through it in curiosity just to be shocked by what I saw. One of the ghosts in this book looked exactly like the one we saw the day before. When I showed my friend, we were both just silent.

I think about that day a lot. I know it for the most part, it was just a huge coincidence. My memory probably altered what I thought I saw in the book, but it's such a cool story to tell. I do have plenty of more bizarre encounters to tell. But those are actually real and dangerous, and they scare me way more than a ghost could ever.

[paradoxcase]

Chapter 30 of Harrow the Ninth

So, Harrow hasn't said anything about her age to anyone other than Mercy, and knowing Mercy, probably no one on the Mithraeum has actually gotten the number "15" out of her regarding Harrow's age, but she's canonically short and scrawny and gremlin-like so I can't imagine that anyone is overestimating her age, but Augustine's plan is still to introduce her to a lot of alcohol and then start making out with John and Mercy in front of her and all he says to her to prepare her for this is "don't get involved"

And for all that Mercy seems horrified by how young Harrow is, she doesn't object to this plan at all based on Harrow's age, it seems like in the last chapter she mainly punched Augustine because she was personally not a fan of the making out with Augustine part of this plan. Like, you would think that if she saw Harrow as that young she would be somewhat protective of her and worried about her, but she doesn't really seem to be at all?

Aside from the obvious absent friend that she no longer remembers, I just realized that she also doesn't remember any of her interactions with Palamedes, either. I don't know if they were exactly friends, but they seemed on reasonably good terms by the end of the book. It's also interesting that Ortus also doesn't come to her mind as an absent friend, and she doesn't think of him when they start talking about their cavaliers, either, even though she has the memories of him being her cavalier at Canaan House

Yeah, she definitely does miss Cristabel

So what I'm getting from this is that Alfred and Cristabel hooked up at some point and Augustine was Not Happy

Maybe Pyrrha wasn't so well-liked as that? Or he just doesn't enjoy the other three thirsting over her? Really curious about this now

So, way back when, Mercy and John were wondering if Gideon the First was putting two and two together about something, probably the nuclear missile event that was current at the time, and now it looks like maybe he has some history with this Blood of Eden commander. Augustine is talking like the commander is long-gone and nuclear missile attack didn't have anything to do with her, but I'm guessing maybe it actually did. John says the stuff with the commander happened 25 years ago, which is less than a decade before Harrow and Gideon were born, so I wonder if the commander has something to do with Gideon's mom? Or even is Gideon's mom, since the commander was female. I'm pretty sure Gideon the First had something to do with Gideon's mom, and I think Mercy seemed to be worried about Harrow having something to do with her back on the Erebos, and it's discussion of the commander that sends Gideon the First out of the room

Also, the idea of making weapons out of Heralds sounds brilliant, and also an incredible feat based on what we know about them so far. He says "even a dead Herald can drive a necromancer insane", which makes me wonder if Heralds are really only dangerous or project their fear aura to necromancers for some reason?

I assume this is A.L.-related?

Honestly surprised the answer wasn't "Valancy"

Also funny to know that Cytherea liked to chitchat about how hot other people's cavaliers were considering all her interactions with Gideon

I mean, what's happening right now is probably real. Probably. But all the stuff you remember from Canaan House wasn't

This is making me think that whatever kind of relationship or whatever Alfred and Cristabel had is now sort of affecting how Augustine and Mercy feel about each other, because of the differences of opinion they had with their cavaliers about the other set that's why their relationship is so fraught? And maybe this also helps with the whole making out part of this scene

I know earlier John commented on how his Lyctors had spend 10,000 years in and out of inadvisable romantic relationships, but I actually did sort of think he would be above that, or at least above doing that with his Lyctors, he had some kind of thing with A.L. probably. But like, I also accidentally create aroace characters by just not giving characters in their 30s any history of romantic relationships because it just genuinely does not occur to me that that is a normal thing to have most of the time. So I'm going to blame me not expecting this on that. I really should have though, because I think this scene showed up in that "which one of these things do you think didn't happen in the Locked Tomb" poll way back when

[eoinmcgonigal]

May I request Augustin Jordan for the Character break down, please my lovely?

Of course ^^

How I feel about this character I kinda don't know what to make of him. He's Mr 'we're trained not to ask questions' and I tell myself that line is probably just exposition to show the contrast in how the SAS function compared to other military units, but did they have to give it to him? He's got balls and he's very attractive pretending to be a P.O.W. and being pedantic over sentence structure, but for the most part I don't know what to do with his noodlyness. He's competent enough, but I just wish we'd been given more of a man who, as David said, had killed more Nazis than all of the SAS put together.

All the people I ship romantically with this character The usual 'whoever seems like fun' answer XD I've read some very lovely and persuasive Bill/Augustin as well (agodavampireandtwoheirsofdurin on ao3), and of course Augustin/Eoin/Paddy because I so badly want to see Augustin try to understand Paddy, Eoin explain as best he can, and Augustin realising he's the only sensible/sane person left on the planet

My non-romantic OTP for this character I actually really want to see more of Augustin and Mike? Idk why but my brain thinks this would be a really nice idea, but there we have it.

My unpopular opinion about this character Okay now I really am going to say something unpoplar XD But I really don't think he's right for Paddy at all in the show. And that's what's so heartbreaking about that whole thing, because Augustin really just doesn't click with Paddy in a meaningful way. Augutin is too sensible, while Paddy is just... Paddy. The big thing for me is the 'it's just the piano' line which kinda shows that Augustin may be smart, but he's not good-at-reading-people smart, and he's atrocious at Paddy-wrangling. It's a shame his character was smooshed into Paddy's grief/trauma over Eoin storyline. I think Augustin is just fine independent of the Paddy stuff because he's interesting enough on his own.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. More of him distinct from Paddy! We also didn't get to see him fuck anyone up :( Maybe miracles will happens and he'll come back and go feral and fuck shit up in future series. I want to see him sneaking about in the dark being a ruthless, efficient killer, because we KNOW he is. Come on, give it to us!! I also would really like to see him and Jock interact now.

Give me a character and I'll break their ass down

[centuries-of-thoughts]

The more I read Dostoevsky and understand how articulates the dangers of rational/logic centric values of belief, I feel that the only correct “intellectual” answer is to be the fool; The holy fool, the “Idiot”.

These tie into The scriptures I think about the most are from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians:

“For Christ did not send me to baptize but to preach the gospel, and not with words of eloquent wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power.” - 1 Corinthians‬ ‭1‬:‭17‬ ‭ESV‬‬

And

“Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe.” - 1 Corinthians‬ ‭1‬:‭20‬-‭21‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Paul and Dostoevsky are introducing this intellectual tension, Augustine himself worded it in my favorite way:

“For just as that man who knows how to possess a tree, and give thanks to thee for the use of it--although he may not know how many feet high it is or how wide it spreads--is better than the man who can measure it and count all its branches, but neither owns it nor knows or loves its Creator: just so is a faithful man who possesses the world’s wealth as though he had nothing, and possesses all things through his union through thee, whom all things serve, even though he does not know the circlings of the Great Bear.” Confessions, book 5, chapter 4

I believe these words were written for this time, this time of an over intellectualized soul, that forgets the proper uses of reason. Where logic is praised more than wisdom, cynicism more than curiosity, traditions more than the a growing culture, and systems more than justice. When everything is categorized, the only thing that is left is to be the Panio key or join the underground.

Christians have fallen into that trap, so has every soul in some way. Then, I believe, the freedom and liberation for this generation will be a nameless moving of the Holy Spirt to do something foolish again… maybe that’s why I look at Asbury so fondly.

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Orchids

The Locked Tomb fanfiction, about how Mercy might have learned about the events at the Canaan House. Probably an AU since, lets be honest here, I have no idea what was going on in Harrow. Or in general.

Anyway, enjoy?

There is an orchid in Mercy’s room.

An actual, real, honest-to-god orchid, with no teeth or eyes or bodily fluids leaking out of weird places. Which meant John hadn’t grown it himself – his brief gardening hobby somewhere around their third millennium, please don't remind her – and flowers? Gifts in general?

Well, that could only mean one thing: John has done something exceptionally stupid. Again.

(It could be Augustine being stupid, too, but that fucker still hadn’t apologised for when he ate the last of her favourite biscuits four hundred and sixty six days ago. Yes, Mercy has been counting.)

Alas, John; and Mercy has no choice but to ask, god, what is going on?

She lets himself into his room without knocking; if he didn’t want her to come, he’d lock it. He knew she was coming anyway.

„Mercy,“ he greets her, and he offers her tea and biscuits, that bastard. She grits her teeth as she watches his smile grow nervous – she can almost feel the speeding heartbeat in the black hole that he is.

„Anything is the matter, Joy?“ he asks, and why, yes, everything is the matter! „Did you like my present?“

Another insufferable presence shows up by the doors; Augustine, leaning on the doorframe and smoking a cigarette. She sends him a glare just to remind him that nothing is forgiven, then she turns back to John and marshes to his desk.

She hits her hands on it, spilling the tea her beloved emperor poured for himself anyway, and for her too, and says: „My Lord, what did you do?!“

His smile grows wider and his eyes twitch as he answers: „What did I do? Mercymorn my dear, can’t I just give you flowers?“

By the door, Augustine falls into a definitely unrelated coughing fit, the effect ruined by occasional wheezing laughs.

Mercy wrinkles her nose at that and then accuses The King Undying: „You never give me flowers! Only when you did something exceptionally stupid, beyond mortal comprehension stupid – actually, you don’t give me flowers enough for that either. So, what did you do, John Gaius?“

The God mutters something about full-naming and women that Mercy chooses not to hear, and Augustine gets out in between his barely subdued coughing: „You don’t give me flowers at all!“ He even manages to sound genuinely hurt enough for John to bloody get him some, and:

„This isn’t about you, Augustine!“ Mercy scolds, „John, stop trying to divert attention, what did you do?“

„…Tea?“ he says instead.

„I’m going to skin you alive and have you wear itchy sweaters and listen to It’s Raining Man for all eternity,“ complains Mercy as she takes the tea. She is seriously tempted to dump the hot liquid into God’s face. It’s not like it would hurt him. Much.

„Augustine, tea?“

„Nah I’m good.“

„John!“

And so, God sighs, and tells her that he didn’t have a choice, and that it wasn't his fault it all went so terribly askew, and that he had no control over what happened at the Canaan House, and poor Cytherea, horrible that this happened, neither of us saw that coming, I just wish we could have helped when we had the chance–

And Mercy listens to him as he speaks, sipping her cooling mint tea. Mint, she doesn’t even like mint!

The Mithareum is quiet as a graveyard.

Finally, he stops speaking – not his fault, and a funeral, and two new Lyctors, two new baby Lyctors – and Mercymorn the First looks God in the eyes as she says: „Flowers aren’t going to fix this, my Lord.“

(Maybe nothing isn’t going to fix this – she shoots a quick look at Augustine.)

On another completely unrelated note, Mercymorn would like to take this opportunity to remind everyone about her own meticulously planned funeral, the by half-a-minute program to be found in the second drawer of her bedside table–

She doesn’t get the bloody opportunity, as John speaks again: „…You could choose which one of the new Lyctors you want to mentor. I was just going to assign you one, but, for you, you can choose.“

„I don’t want a Baby Lyctor to mentor!“ bursts out Mercymorn, „Have you considered that?!“

„Well, the first pick is still yours,“ the God smiles, ever so bloody understanding, and Mercymorn doesn’t have the nerves for this anymore.

She pushes past Augustine and towards her room, which is not nearly far away enough. She can still hear the men, feel their presence. And she would rather not.

„Well now you’re just playing favourites,“ accuses Augustine.

„I don’t have favourites,“ the God answers, and: „I need to buy her more flowers, don’t I. Help me choose some?“

Flowers.Flowers. The only flowers that had ever fixed anything were the poisonous ones, and even these are no good for her.

Flowers.

With that thought projected into the aether, Mercymorn slams the door behind herself.

She hopes God all-knowing gets the freaking message.