#me think this father of all creation is a quote literal reference if not about egeria then about furina

[torgawl]

the furina jesus brainrot combined with my idea of her fragmentation of the self as well as the three thrones in fontaine is making me think of the holy trinity: father, son and the holy spirit. how they are all god but they're not one another. basically, this thing:

the father is the author of all creation and out of him come all good things. he's good and abundant in love.

the son is the physical embodiment of love who walked the earth as both example and sacrifice. he died as the ultimate gesture for mankinds' sins and his physical death is the landmark event of all history. the son is subordinate to the father.

the holy spirit, called "the unveiled epiphany of god", is the one without a physical form who empowers the followers of jesus with spiritual gifts and power that enables the proclamation of jesus christ, and the power that brings conviction of faith. the spirit is subordinate to the son and to the father.

can you guys see where i'm going? the holy spirit being something non-physical that empowers those who follow jesus sounds oddly familiar to the oratrice that feeds off of fontaine's people's faith in the justice system into a power source. jesus, who sacrificed himself for mankind for their sins... furina, is that you? now, who is the father? the hydro archon but not furina maybe or the other way around? no idea. my brain didn't go so far but tell me this doesn't actually make sense!!!

[jewreallythinkthat]

Wait.

You blew my mind with:

“Canonically in Tanach, there is an admittance that other gods exist”

I didn’t know this! I’m agnostic, and not in anyway Jewish, but trying to learn more about peoples and cultures other than the one I was raised.

I always thought Jewish monotheism was similar to Xtian (if we can call the trinity monotheistic!) in that, there’s only one god and any other claims are people being mistaken because people.

Is this not the view in Judaism then? Is it like, there’s only one god Jews care about because covenant? Others exist and it’s fine for gentiles to worship them?

Hey Nonnie!

So like everything in Judaism, it's a hotly debated topic - and please other people on Jumblr, feel free to join in the convo! I cannot speak for all Jews so this is just my opinion and conclusions I've drawn from chats about Thai with friends.

There's a couple of points you've mentioned which I'll address (a bit out of order) if that's ok?

So about the trinity in Christianity, I've always found it a little bizarre as to me, the monotheism of having three 'aspects' of god is a bit ... Dodgy? I've never really been able to see how it can count as monotheism when prayers are literally sent to the father, the son and the holy spirit. But also, I'm not Christian and I'm sure someone may be able to hop in and explain how that doesn't count as praying to different gods!

I'm regard to the Jewish view of deities - I think a few quotes from the Tanach may be useful for this one. The translation I'm using is from Chabad online as I cannot be bothered to get my Tanach from the other side of the room and transcribe. Translations often vary a bit here and I prefer the ones I grew up with but the general gist will be there. I've highlighted the bits I view as especially important in red.

So first -

Genesis, chapter 1, verse 26

And God said, "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness, and they shall rule over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the heaven and over the animals and over all the earth and over all the creeping things that creep upon the earth."

Genesis chapter 3, verse 22

Now the Lord God said, "Behold man has become like one of us, having the ability of knowing good and evil, and now, lest he stretch forth his hand and take also from the Tree of Life and eat and live forever."

I mean this, to me, implies G-d to be talking to others right? God says "our", as if more than one is there at the time, almost observing the creation. In the second one, again God is talking other beings which must be like God for they are referred to by the collective 'us'.

Exodus, chapter 20, verses 1-5 (the start of the first reading of the 10 commandments)

God spoke all these words, to respond:

"I am the Lord, your God, Who took you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.

You shall not have the gods of others in My presence.

You shall not make for yourself a graven image or any likeness which is in the heavens above, which is on the earth below, or which is in the water beneath the earth.

You shall neither prostrate yourself before them nor worship them, for I, the Lord, your God, am a zealous God, Who visits the iniquity of the fathers upon the sons, upon the third and the fourth generation of those who hate Me,

So this is where it gets interesting. There is specificity in the first line 'your God', not the God of other people but specifically the people Yisrael for this is addressed to them and them alone. This then is followed by explicit acknowledgement that other peoples have their own gods and to worship them is a BIG no no.

This is also where we get another famous antisemitic trope from - the idea that Jews think they are better than others because they are the 'chosen' people. This is, of course, bollocks. Not only is the 'chose' more like chosen to do the washing up rather than chosen as favourite, it is also specifically to do with the Jews as the ones with whom God, our God, has the covenant. We are the ones in the contract, chosen to have to fulfill the mitzvot. The Jews were the ones with the king list of things they had to do while others are not bound by the covenant and may do as they please.

Now from the Haggadah (which tells the story of the exodus and is ready during the Passover Seder) we have this - it's the section about the 10th plague so there is a lot of talk of death and child death.

As it is said: “I shall pass through the land of Egypt on that night; I shall kill every firstborn son in the land of Egypt, man and beast, and I shall pass judgment on all the gods of Egypt: I am the LORD.”

“I shall pass through the land of Egypt on that night” – I and no angel. “I shall kill every firstborn son in the land of Egypt” – I and no seraph. “And I shall pass judgment on all the gods of Egypt” – I and no emissary. “I am the LORD” – It is I and no other.

We have explicit mention that the Egyptians have their own gods. We also have the final line - 'it is I and no other' - why would God need to clarify it is Godsself rather than a different god, unless God I is acknowledging there are other godly beings? It's also worth nothing, the judgment and punishment on the Egyptians is not a punishment for worshipping other gods for the Egyptians never entered into a covenant with Hashem - the Israelites who built the golden calf however did suffer quite severe punishment.

If there are other gods, the others have nothing to do with me because theyre not the one my people have a covenant with. If others want to worship them, I don't care. It doesn't affect me in any way so they can do what they want 🤣

I also, from a personal pov, like the fact that this horrific thing, the slaying of the first born, would be performed by God rather than being delegated to an angel or a seraph. There's something about the big boss taking on the worst of the jobs (as it were) which I really respect as clearly God has emotions (from the line about God being jealous) and I cannot imagine that slaying the first borns (of all ages, not just children, it just says every priest born) is a task that would have been anything other than mentally destroying.

It's also important to note that I do not believe this happened - otherwise I'd not be so flippant about mentions of child death and murder. I view the Torah as the written version of the oral histories of the Jewish people, a tribe's oral history that like with many indigenous peoples oral histories, has been embellished and mythologised. It's a good story with grains of truth to tell the history of how the people Yisrael came to be, how our culture and people became not just a group of random tribes but a community with shared history and culture and traditions.

I'm never sure if I believe God exists. Some days I really do wish there ot be something else - often when I think about achievements that I've done which are the result of the help of family members who have since died and I like the idea that they could still be there in some way to enjoy and see how grateful I am for them helping me get to where I am. Other times, I look at things like October 7th, the famine in Sudan, the innocents dying in Gaza, genocides in Rwanda, Bosnia, Cambodia etc and I think "how could a god allow this to happen". There is so much suffering in the world and I cannot bring myself to believe that a god could condone that when they have the power to literally create the world, to strike Egypt with the plages, when they have the power to stop the suffering.

I'm glad that in Judaism, we don't focus on the afterlife in the way I see it centred in Christianity and Islam. I don't view the notions of Heaven and Hell as beneficial and while ther are notions of them in Judaism, they've generally very much sidelined and not centered in conversation.

While the beneficiary of help does not care if you have helped them altruistically or because you think it will help you get into heaven, the concepts of heaven and hell have been used to slaughter so many innocents in the name of religion and I am thankful that for me, I've never seen this in Judaism because the important stuff is what happens when you're alive. You should be focussing on the here and now, to try and complete as many of God's commandments as possible. What happens when you die? Well frankly that's a problem for you when you get there. (Obviously I know there are extremists within the Jewish world - ie WB Settlers - but they are such a small minority and certainly are not a major part of the history of our people)

Anyway, this answer sort of got away from me so sorry about that. I hope you at least found it interesting and enjoy the foray into learning about other cultures!

[blaithnne]

Lauren Master Post

EDIT - this post has now reached the 100 links limit so I can’t update it anymore 😭 I will be creating an off site link portal at some point, but for now this list is incomple, still - enjoy what’s here!

Hello! So realised that if anyone wanted to learn about Lauren then they had to venture out on a scavenger hunt across my blog - so I made a Masterpost! This contains every single Lauren Post I’ve ever made, each sorted into their own categories! This post will be continuously updated as more content is made, so if you are viewing this on a reblog please check the original post to ensure it hasn’t been updated since that person reblogged it!

Some basic context, for anyone who’s completely new - Lauren is a Hilda OC of mine, she is Hilda’s older sister who ran away from home at the age of 13. Not all information about her has been ‘released’ yet, but I have plans for the future :)

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Canon

Everything in this section is 100% canon information, generally being at least somewhat important to her character and story

Updated Reference Sheet

Cream Design

Cream Naming

Jason Origin Post

Lauren Smokes

Bi Lauren

Lauren’s Time Away Info

Ages

Birth!

Lauren loves plants, amongst other hobbies

Pianist Lauren + What she wants most

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AU

Self Explanatory :)

Runaway Hilda*

Miraculous

Miraculous 2

Mumswap*

Mumswap Ref

More Mumswap

Harry Potter

My Little Pony

Sketchbook Fake Dating AU

*The Runaway Hilda AU is owned by the lovley @cinnamon-sparrow-scout!

*The Mumswap AU is owned by the wonderful @calebs-hangout-corner!

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Misc

Contains Asks, Shitposts, and Vaguely Canon Content. Posts being here doesn’t mean they aren’t canon, but they may be subject to change

Original Lauren Post/Reference

Jason and Lauren

Hilda and Lauren (Martial Arts)

April Fools 2020

Lauren Joins The God Damn Mafia??

Incorrect Quotes Generator

Poly Mum Content

Sadie Being An Accidental Genius

Hilda and Lauren 2

Lauren Breaks The Timeline lol

Misc Fact

Amogus

Name Origin and Fears

Safest Place

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Misc Art

I draw Lauren a LOT - so here’s all my drawings of her, in order of their creation

Outfit Meme

👉👈 🥺

Just Go To Bed

Mirror Selfie

Jason and Lauren Meet

Little and Broken

Self Confidence!

Title Card

Painting

Woah

Frank

Brainrot

Lauren With Her Hair Down

Traditional Sketches

Lauren Listens To Tøp lol

Lauren is Currently Listening To Tøp

Smoking Sketch

Reaction Image - Free To Use!

Happy Father’s Day?

Lesbian Lauren (no longer canon)

Premiering Never

Librarian Lauren

Outfit Meme 2, Suit Edition

She’s Just Sitting There

Wear Heelies To Escape Your Feelies

Catgirl Lauren Lmao

Like a Fun Alt Outfit Thing

Lauren But In MY CLOTHES!!

Freedom

Good Hair

Misc Sketches

She’s a deer now lol

Lauren vs An Ostrich

Phone Wallpaper

Mario?!

Tag ya spoilers

Happy One Year!

Moss Tik Tok (vids will get their own category if I make more :))

Lauren and Baba

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Concept Art

Not all of these concepts are true to the final designs, but some of them are!

Older Lauren

How The Hell Does Lauren’s Hair Work

Kid Lauren

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Screenshot Edits

Self Explanatory :)

Edit 1

Edit 2

Edit 3

Edit 4

Edit 5

Edit 6

Edit 7 (The Tide Mice!)

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Fan(?) stuff!

I feel weird calling this ‘fan’ stuff but I literally don’t know what else to call it lol. Anyways - this section contains content not made by me! I absolutely adore everything here and I’m so grateful that people like Lauren enough to make their own content for her!! I included everything here, from finished artworks, doodles, and a few incorrect quotes - bc I cry tears of joy whenever anyone makes anything abt her LMAO

Incorrect Quote 1

Incorrect Quote 2

I Think This Was The First Lauren Drawing Not Done By Me 😭😭

MERMAID LAUREN

B e h o l d

Beautiful Full Body Piece!

The Greatest Animatic Of All Time

Beautiful Drawing of Lauren and Hope!

TEAM BIG SISTER

Adorable sketch

Cool As Hell Mario Kart Chase

More Mario Kart >:)

Pokémon!

Insanely Cool Anime Esque Screenshot Art!

Incorrect Quote 3

Incorrect Quote 4

[oh-for-fic-sake]

No Boyfriend’s

Masterlist

Henry comes home to find out his three year old princess has a boyfriend, whats a dad to do?

Warnings: swearing, fluff

A/n: so I had so much fun wrighting this fluff piece! Thank you to @jessevans​ for requesting it.

No Boyfriend's

You walked up to the preschool to pick up your daughter from her afternoon session. You had to admit when Henry had first sugested moving out of the city You had been a little skeptical. He had been adamant that he wanted your child to have a childhood much like his. Out of the hustle and bustle moving out into 'the sticks' as many londoners would call it. You'd settled in a quaint picturesque little village near Canterbury in Kent the location was perfect for henry's work with the port of dover thirty minutes away and the center of london with all the airports around an hours drive in the opposite direction it was ideal. And best of all it was out of the way and had all the amenities within the village itself a post office, shop,pub, Doctors surgery and pharmacy the local primary school and pre school was literally a five minute walk from your house and the closest secondary schools were a ten minute bus ride into canterbury itself and when the time came you had six to choose from.

The reason for the move? Your now three year old Daughter the apple of her daddies eye. You remebered the day you'd told your boyfriend you were pregnant, you'd been terrified as much as he said he wanted a family you couldnt help that twinge of doubt. But he was exstatic within moments he had darted out of the room when he returned he was clumsily trying to dial his mothers number with shaking hands tears streaming down his face as he kept asking if you were sure even when his mother picked up, you could here her laughs of joy as he told her. He paced the room leaving you to sit on the bed giggling as he refused to sit down whilst on the phone with his family every time he walked past you he move his hand pressing on Your flat tummy asif trying to feel the child already that or he was trying to imagine you with a bump and that grin? You'd never seen him smile like that before it truly melted your heart seeing him so happy. He was always and attentive boyfriend but once you was pregnant he was..Incredible always by your side when he was at home tending to your every need and he somehow managed not to be over bearing.

It was when you went to the first scan that he had proposed some might say it wasn't the most romantic but for you it was perfect! Leaving with the first photos of your little jellybean and a fiance. Fuck yes! You thought that you couldnt get any happier but then came the gender scan. You knew he didnt mind what they were but you also knew deep deep down you both wanted a little girl to coddle over and buhe wanted a daddies girl someone who he could be their knight in shining  armour. He could bearly keep still beside you holding your hand tight watching the screen trying to get a look at your little 'nugget' as he had called them he couldn't keep quiet either with every swipe of the ultrasound  wand he was changing his mind.

"Girl? Is that? I can see? nope Boy definatly boy"

"Henry babe...dont get to excited that's the umbilical cord...I think?" They were being a little bugger crossing their legs making the sonographer work hard to move them around as you had to move again and again trying to get the little one to move. Finally they spoke.

"And you two are about to have... Little....Princess! You have a baby girl on the way congratulations" you both froze looking at the screen seeing your baby...your daughter. Immediately you both burst into tears.

"A-a girl your sure?" Henry asked in a quiet shaky voice the woman smiled nodding handing you both tissues then moved slower over the child showing you exactly what she saw then printed off some of the photos for you. Once home Henry began refering to her as 'little lady' on account of her 'protecting her modesty' by crossing her legs.

It wasnt long after youd began talking about moving seroiusly, the house was big enough sure but now you knew the baby was a girl it all seemed much more real. Sure you'd both spoke about buying a house together on and off as youd moved in to his place earlier in the relationship but this time it was more feasible the idea of raising your precious little girl in the middle of london didn't bode well for Henry he was also concerned about haveing photos of her taken he was an actor hell your relationship was posted all over social media by your third date! He didn't want that attention on his daughter so you both started seriously looking. It only took another nine weeks to find a place you both fell in love with the Georgian detached house it looked like a mini manor with its decorative columns and tall windows had a huge garden to for kal it was perfect.

At six months you had a small private wedding and it was then that he anounced your marriage and baby Cavill, potsing your favourite wedding photo of you in you and Henry facing each other laughing witb your foreheads together, you were wrapped around each other as close as ou could get considering the bumb that had seemingly grown overnight his hand resting on the cute bump you were laughing because she had just kicked him when he had told you he loved you. Almost like 'dont forget about me!', Kal had photo bombed to his head poking out between your an Henry's legs smiling , a part of your flowy dress caught up on the bears ear head tilted the only one looking at the camera and in the same post he added an ultrasound of your baby girl. You got congratulations from many of yours freinds and family. And Henry's freinds and costars each wondering the same thing 'how the fuck did Henry keep it quiet?'. You wondered that as well, the hole pregnancy was just memory after memory. Henry made sure you did everything you could to document your daughters creation, you did the photo of your bump once a week the last one being you in the hospital in the middle of slow labour holding the gown tight around you a mere half hour before she was born. He had made sure you did the belly casting which had been tidied up and trimmed painted pink and was in the cupboard, then the 4d scans expensive tho they were nothing and you mean nothing compared to seeing her little face for the first time, it was then you realised she looked nothing like you! She was all her father although a slightly more feminine and less sharp and it was also there you were told she had lots od hair...Curls you felt like you'd hit the jackpot. At the birth he had been incredibly supportive until he wasn't, well you disagreed  he wanted to film it and not just your face  he wanted to film it you said no but regretted it after as it would have been solid proof of what happened.  You see one moment he was there then mid contraction....you heard quiet 'nope' a huge thump is what alerted you to his fall.... there was an alarm pressed and nurses came running in each giggleing, it was rare now days to have a fainter.

"Are you FUCKING KIDING ME?! HENRY?! OI! HERNY? CAVILL GET YOUR ASS UP!" You had to stop shouting and started breathing heavy as another contraction pulled at you once over you began barking orders to the nurses.

"KICK HIM...KICK HIM IN THE NUTS! DONT WORRY ABOUT STERILISING SUPERMAN HERE! NEVER AGAIN! HE WONT THEM TRUST ME... HENRY GET UP! ARE YOU LISTENING? STOP BEING A LITTLE BITCH! I AM NOT DOING THIS AGAIN COS HE FUCKING MISSED IT! LOOKING WHEN I TOLD HIM NOT TO!"  The nurses didn't know what to do it took three of them to place im in the chair each trying desperately not to laugh as you had a melt down screaming at him to 'wake the fuck up' You swore you even heard laugher from outside signaling that his family had heard. Yes your wonderfully supportive husband had fainted through stress? Excitment? Anxiety? Low blood sugar? Each time you asked him it had been different answer but and to quote him 'it was definitely not because I looked' which neither you or his brothers will ever believe or let him forget. Luckily he came to as you finally birthed his daughter. A stunning screaming little dark haired bundle. He sobbed when he held her for the first time leaning over her cradeling her so gently leaning over her kissing her as many time he possibly could he was the first one to hold her, hug her kiss her and change her. The photo of his first cuddle hung proudly in the hallway ,you will never forget that moment, the moment when Henry's whole world changed  you could see then just how much he had wanted this. Your daughter was going to be the luckiest little girl in the world.

Paige had grown into a daddies girl, through and through which made today much better. Henry was coming home from filming man from u.n.c.l.e he had been away for months and you had kept his arrival home a secret. Henry was going to make it home in about twenty five minutes. You stopped just before the colourfull gates unable to go in with Kal, you could see the kids lining up in twos underneath the oak tree in the small garden. You smile moving to stroke Kals ears hushing him as he barked loudly vibrating with exciment his tail thumping on the floor as he sat like the good boy he was. At his bark you could hear the kids all squeal with excitment, they loved it when you brought the 'wolf' to the preschool. It was funny hearing Paige whine to them that 'his name is Kal and he's a bear'. He was quite the spoilt pup when he helped you pick up his sister getting hugs and kisses of all the Paige's class mates. Finally the small class was walked out of the garden one of the teachers holding the gate lettjng them leave to their parents. Paige waited in line pointing to you then was let out you ducked down hugging her kissing between her her curly little pigtails.

"Hey baby! Have a good day?" She nodded passing you her small bag and a small potted plant? You looked at her confused but said nothing. She turned and giggled hugging kal smoshing her face in his chest making him stand up she pulled back and squealed as he latherd her with kisses three hours away from her was apparently to long!

"Oh no Kal! Stop it silly bear!" You laughed watching her push weakly at kal who began to settle down now that his 'pup' was with him. You noticed the other parents hovering there kids all pulljng itching to come get Kal cuddles. You smiled to them nodding suddenly they came over all giving him pets and love which he lapped up. You also used it as a sort of lesson the do's and donts of petting dogs, which did some of the other parents a favour. Kal wagged his tail and droped to the floor he couldnt roll over fast enough directing the tiny hands to scratch his belly mouth open tongue lolling about as he panted one happy little bear. After you were sure all the kids got there cuddles you moved calling kal he huffed at you ignoring you instead wanting more love. You smirked down at him sighing as the children giggled. Finally after much coaxing from the other parents you and Paige managed to heave kal away with promises of chicken and snuggles at home. Soon you was on your way home kal padding beside you happy as can be.

Paige took he spot beside you holding his lead with you she was talking about her 'boyfriend' a little boy who she had taken a shine to. It was really sweet he had just moved to the area a little asian boy who paige had bonded with quickly. Really they were just best freinds but he was the first boy she had made freinds with hence she had opted to call him her boyfriend.

"So then Micah played let me play and-and he let me be a knight!" You smiled at her as she beamed excited.

"Really? A knight?" She stopped at the road with you looking both ways then crossed quickly.

"Yeah! Like in daddy's games!! And he gave me some of the bany tomatoes in his lunch...did you he grew them in his own garden!!" You gasped sown at her.

"Really? Oh my, sound like a little dream boat!" she scrunched up her nose lookjng up at you placing a tiny hand to he forehed sheildjngnher eyea from the afternoon sun

"Wha?" You chuckled shaking your head at her.

"Never mind jummy is just being silly" nodded to you her lightl blue eyes sparkling at you then Continued talking about her day mostly about Micah and the games they played.

When you reached home you watched as kal began barking and whining which could only mean one thing. Henry was home already, you unlocked the gate and released the dog with a quiet 'go get daddy' he tore off whining running to the door scratching and pouncing barking the whole time.

"Mummy whats wrong with kal?" You looked down at her knowingly"I'm not sure why don't you go see to him?" She nodded her head biting her lip then licking it, she looked so much like her father doing that. Then she was off running to the house just as Henry opened the door. She froze then screamed for him quickly falling to pieces with grabby hands wantjng her daddy. You watched all choked up as always she was bawling her eyes out by the time he had jumped the steps to the house scooping her up in his huge arms. He clutched her to his chest shushing and rocking her as she cried into him fisting her small hands in his shirt just calling him over and over. He moved his head kissing her trying to calm her, he hated and loved this. He hated her getting so upset when her returned but secretly loved that she missed him. The first few times he left he was worried she wouldnt remember him but juste as youd promised him she had.

The first time he came home you’d taken her to the airport to meet him...He had ended hup having to sit in the back with her as she refused to let him go getting hysterical  each time he tried to pry her off of him. She had gotten better as she got older understanding that daddy had to work and now she was older she could speak to him on the phone and video chat. Each time after the initial crying and snuggles she would stay stuck to his side weather she was sitting on the sofa between his legs when he was playing games or in the makeshift gym with him useing his reps to practice her counting...even if in five mineuts he managed two hundred by her count they were always together. Hell sometimes he even read a new script as a bed time story, which not even you were privvy to!

You laughed walking up to him winding your arms around them both cuddling your daughter between you he leaned in kissing ou on the lips.

"God its good to be home" you smiled smoothing  one of paiges high pigtails she whined calming down kicking her little legs wrapping an arm around his neck and moved suckling her thumb a little. He moved you all into the house patting her bottom lightly somthing he had done since she was born it always soothed her. You moved to the kitchen opening the back door letting air in it was to hot, you placed the small plant on the windosill by the sinck giving it a tiny bit of water as you noticed the siol had dried out. Henry stayed close behind you wanting to be around you, you moved to the slow cooker flicking it on to warm up the already cooked casserole. He came up behinde you movijng to have Paige on one hip still rocking her slightly even tho she had calmed down.

"Ohh look baby chicken casserole...Did you help mummy with that today before school? " She giggled peering over the pot.

"Yes daddy! I putted in the veggies! And tatoes! Daddy!" He smiled at her gasping.

"You did the veggies and the potatoes?! Such a clever girl making daddies favourite dinner" she giggled at the praise nodding.

"And-and I tasted it to!" he gasped at her as she got all excited

"And what do you think?" She grinned and 'whispered'

"Needed salt" you spun round and gasped at her offended.

"You little!" You chased her and Henry around the kitchen island wriggling your fingers as if to tickle her.

"AHH HAHAHa NOOO! DADDY RUN RUN!" you giggled as he scarperd out of the kitchen hovering by the door and moved all you saw was the tops of their heads peering into the kitchen. You rolled your eyes as they made a 'plan of attack' you turned back to the pit placeing the lid back on.

Suddeny Henry had you, arms pinning yours to the sides as Paige 'tickled' you making you laugh.

"Oh my god! Stop I give I give!" Finally Paige relented koala climbing Henry who quickly scooped her up to his hip.You moved in kissing her cheek then henry as he wrapped his free arm around you nuzzling in to your neck giving a quick nip before licking at your skin.You giggled trying to escape yet all he did was grab you around your waist and hoist you up.

"HAHA! I have you both now!" You laughed and Paige squealed as he spun around holding you both before making his way to the living room  you wriggled free pretendingnto run from him making paige call out to you for help as he threw her up in the air holding her with 'slam dunking' paige to the sofa making her laugh and  scream as he followed lifting her littl tshirt blowing rasberries on her tummy makeing her squeal and laugh louder. You smiled at the two, this is what you missed when he was away, the laughter of a full house. You sat down in Henry's armchair as he and Paige 'wrestled' soon attracting kals attention who like the loyal steed he was came to paiges aid pouncing henry making him groan and roll off her givingnher and kal the chance to escape to the garden, you both let them the garden was safe and having  kal around was like a live in nanny he wont let anything happen to her.

Henry rolled over on the sofa lounging back panting crooking a finger at you. You crept over moving to sit in his lap, he tugged you down to him pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He moved sitting up more cupping your ass smirking.

"Soo? Did you think about what I mentioned?" You grinned and pretended to think for a second making him groan leaning in leaving kisses on your neck and jaw.

"I did" you finally replied, you felt him hold his breath as his nose ghosted your ear.

"I stopped them that night~ all back to normal now" he pulled back staring at you

"Really? You mean it?" You nodded them brought you forward for a deep kiss. He had mentioned trying for another child when he came back, youd always intended to give Paige a sibling but not when she aas still a baby baby. Now that Paige was older and going to be in school next year you had felt ready to try again and had be over the moon whne henry had suggested it in a video chat instantly stopping your contraception so eveything would be back to normal and you could start trying asap asfterall you knly had him home for a few months then he was off to play superman again. He smiled lunging forward pinning you below him devouring your mouth you moaned as things got heated.

You felt them. Eyes. Blue eyes to be exact. You both sighed and turned to Paige who was staring unblinking at the two of you from the door. You moved pushing him up.

"Mummy? Wheres my plant I wana show daddy what I grew!" He looked at you and sighed a little, you could tell he was a bit dissapointed but you waved him off as he stood pulling you up with him you moved in whispering.

"Tonight love" he grinned and jumped up a bounce in his step holding his hand out to paige who took it.

"Its on the windowsill in the kitchen" Henry nodded left the room letting you relax for a while already knowing you were picking up your kindle to read. Once in the kitchen he lifted Paige placing her on the counter and pulled over the small plant.

"So whats this then?" She smiled touchingnthe leaves softly

"Its a strawberry plant daddy...I did it from a tiny seed!" He smiled at her looking to the plant it wasnt half bad small but alive which is more then he could say for his when he tried.

"Oh you did this? At school?" She nodded at him and moved the leaves about.

"Yes and it will get bigger and grow pretty flowers...And the flowers will grow a strawberry! Miss bou said we cant pick em till they are a bright red like in the shops... and we can take pictures in to show em off!" He nodded to her

"So your gardening at school now? Is it fun?" She giggled putting the plant down

"Yeah we got lots in our vegetable patch...we got some lettuce and peppers and spinach and and tomatoes! But they not ready yet...Micahs is! Micah grows the at home... can we grow some veggies daddy?" He smiled at her

"We certainly can...Besides we will need to plant your strawberries in the garden...I will make your ownn little growing patch amd we can grow anything you want how does that sound?" She squealed and bounced on her bottom making him smile.

"Lets make a list and we can go get them tomorrow" she nodded in agreement. You walked in the kitchen as henry and Paige leaned over the counter making a list

"Whats going on here then?" Paige quickly riped the paper from under Henry's nose.

"List mummy! Of palnts for my veggie patch! Daddy wants to help!" You smiled peaking over the paper seeing two halves one side had strange 'paige writing' the other a list Henry had written. Compost, tools, string, pots then lots of different fruit and veg. You chuckled shaking your head.

"You missed watering can...maybe we could get a waterbutt? And one of thows plastice green houses to start the seedling off?" He smiled nodding addjng them to the list as you went and checked dinner. You nodded then turned to the other two."Right you tow dinners done wash up then go wait at the table...Had it in the slow cooker all day just needed to be heated up" he leaned over kissing you once again thanking you then helped Paige was her hands leaving to the dining room with Paige.

You did this everytime he came home early dinner meant an early bedtime for Paige and then You could give Henry a proper homecoming. You dished up the dinner home made chicken casserole you moved quickly with the three bowles placing them on the table then sat down ready to eat as Henry began talking about work. you smiled letting him gush about his work, you loved seeing him like this he blushed slightly.

"Any way enough about that, how have my two girls been?" You watched at Paige grinned across the table to him.

"I made a new friend daddy!" You swallowed your mouthfull choosing to keep quiet you knew where this was going you grinned into you bowl. He smiled at her leaning over to wipe her mouth quickly making her giggle at him as he stuck his tongue out at her.

"Oh really? And whats her name?"

"Haha nooo! Daddy its not a girl...I've got a boyfriend!" Henry choked onhis mouthfull paiges face dropped and she looked to you worriedly you smiled reassuringly at her. Henry hit his chest coughing finally getting himslef under control, he looked at you shocked and terrified you nodded at him chuckling.

"A-a boyfriend? Poppet dont you think your a bit err young for that?" She frowned at him shaking her head.

"No daddy! He is really nice! He lets me be a knight! And today we had lunch together and he fed-ed me his tomatoes."

"Gave paige he gave you his tomatoes" you corrected as Henry gaped at her unsure what to make of it.

"So he is just a friend?....he better be"  he grumbled the last part under his breath.

"He is a friend...My boyfriend I love him daddy... he gives me hugs! And Kal likes him to! He's my hero" You giggled as Henry was panicked and at a loss.

"Really....love I thought daddy was your hero?" Creased up he actually looked a bit hurt from her words she gave him a sympathetic look.

"Yes daddy you are...But Micah is to! He is soo pretty and fun and he don't make me be the princess all the time...And he shares his colours"

"Okay so you love this boy Micah?" She nodded pushing her food around in her bowl.

"What do you love about him?"

"His hair! Its black and shiney! And and he is cute!"

"Aha but you do know he isnt your boy friend right? Your not aloud boyfriends yet....No boyfriends untill your older." He said she looked at him wide eyed then you her bottom lip quivering.

"What? But but I love him!" Henry crossed his arms at her she mimicked him scowling

"No absolutly not baby" .she whined and smaked the table in a huff

"NOOO! MY BOYFRIEND!" He raised a brow at her as she had a paddy.

"No boyfreinds untill your 21 and thats final ittle lady"

"No! Micah is mine! My boyfriend! A-and you cant stop us from playing! So there!" Henry rose a brow trying to ignor your quiet chuckles as Paige made huffed and stuck her nose in the air being a right little madame. You watched givjng Henry the stink eye as a grin crawled across his face. Here we go.

"Its illegal...he could get in trouble, daddy could get in trouble" Henry tilted his head at her as she gasped trying to read him, you could see her mind trying to work him out. Is he lying? Or not? but her father was an actor...And a damn good one he had a poker face like no other. You knew where this was going, you knew you should stop it but his was gold! You had a feeling that henry was not gojng to ckme out on top.as she opend her mouth.

"W-well we wont tell..Keep it a secret!" She said holding a finger to her lips Henry tutted shaking his head.

"Oh poppet...Do you know where daddy has been these past months?" You squinted at him trying to see exactly where this was going knowing you were going to have to pick up the pieces. She nodded then shook her head no. He smiled devilishly at her. Oh shit here he goes.

"Daddy has been to spy school" you gasped at him oh hell no he wouldnt...yes he fucking would you could see the twinkle in his deep blues.

"Spy school?" She spoke in a small voice then turned to you looking fro one to the other he nodded at he

"Y-your a spy?" He nodded and she gave him a sa look.

"Yes, and I made friends with lots of spies" she twitched slightly shaking her head.

"And they told me that the spy rules says that a spy's little girl isn't allowed a boyfriend until they are twenty one....If they did find out daddy could get in trouble...You dont want daddy to be in trouble do you?" She shook her head bottom lip trembling as she was torn. She looked like she would explode as she tried weighting up her 'options'.

 Suddenly Henry dropped his smug look and looked more like a deer in the headlights as Paige began wailing moving her arms making grabby hands to you. You sighed and hoisted her into your arms rocking her trying so hard not to laugh.

"W-why is da-daddy mean?....I ju-just want to pl-play with my boyfreind!" You patted her back rocking her.

"No-now D-daddy will get i-in trouble! But I-I just w-wana plaayy!" She cried harder hicupping between her words.

"Oh sweety come here shh shh" you gave Henry a look as he leaned back in his chair crossing his arms at you shaking his head. Stubborn and protective of his little lady.

"Nope..Not having it" you hissed at him knowing you had to spell this one out for the big idiot.

"Daddy didn't mean it,he wont get in trouble at all baby girl"

"Yes I did"

"HENRY!" he shut up at your hiss

"Bu-but d-daddy said-"

"Hey look at me...Dont listen to daddy he is an idiot and just jealous of Micah" she sniffled an nodded

"Y-yeah cos he-he's got pretty Shiney hair... D-daddies just got stupid curls!" You giggled as Henry looked aghast at her not believing wht ha was hearing

"Exactly daddy is just being a grump! you can still play with Micah...He is your best friend isn't he?" She nodded sniffling

"and you love his like a friend right?" Henry now realised his mistake blinked at you as you rolled your eyes shaking your head at him like 'what the fuck? Really? Shes three' .oh. She pulled away wipinng her eyes looking to henry's matching blues.

"Really daddy? C-can I still play w-with micah?"

"Yes of course...I'm sorry baby...you and mummy was right I just got jealous...daddy is used to being your only hero." Smooth cavill real smooth. She bought it tho nodding he tilted his head down.

"Yo-you wont be in tr-trouble" he shook his head at her

"A-and Micah wo-wont be in t-trouble?" Again he shook his head and reached for her.

"No baby daddy was just being silly...Come here Can you forgive me poppet?" She thlught about it then nodded lunging for him cuddling him he mouthed a sorry to you but you just rolled your eyes at him. Idiot.

It was later that night when Henry returned to your bedroom after reading Paige to sleep,. You both flitted about one another getting ready for bed ou was brushing your teeth when he brought it up.

"So who is this micah then?" You rolled your eyes still hearing a little hostility there...To a fucking three year old. You spat out the toothpaste and looked to henry leaning on the door.

"A little boy...He moved to the village just after you left...Paige was instantly taken with him, he is asian so was avoided by the other kids...you know what she's like with hair and shes never seen straight pitch black hair before... she gushed about him for a few days then they became best freinds....And she call's him her boyfriend because he is the first male friend shes made! God henry really shes three! There none of that shit yet...not for a good few years!" You turned away from your sheepish husband.

"So? nothing i need to know? theres nothing going on? whats his parents like?" You blinked at him..

"Seriously? Like are you being serious now?  Ok well fuck it his dad has taken over the doctors surgery and is actually your and my doctor now that dr marsh has retired! His mother is a stay at home wife, they have a cat called fuji; cos he is fat and a gold fish called mino because its a mino...he is a sweet polite boy ...his favourite colour is green he grows fruit and veg in his garden and you know what Henry he fucking loves batman! and whne he batman versus superman comes out he is gonna want batman to kick your ass! there you happy Jesus fucking christ almighty!" Henry smirked moving towards you slowly stalking towards you really.

"Fuck off" he just chuckled quickly wrappjng himself around you.

"God your so sexy when our mad come here~" you blinked at him

"Oh hell no You did not get me riled up to have rough sex.....Henry I!....you little shit!" He laughed knowing you’d caught onto him making you more irritated and dragged you to the bed kissing at your neck along the way.

"Come on love time for number two...A boy to keep and eye on Paige for me when I'm away!" You chuckled relenting as he laid you down on your bed.

[insingersfall]

Are dreamers descendants to fallen angels?

So I’ve been thinking a lot about the origin of dreamers, especially in relation to Ronan’s faith and his anxiety about creating life - a job he feels should be exclusive to God.

This is going to be long so the short story: Maybe dreamers are descendants to fallen angels?

Here’s my long ass thesis on why I think so:

Since CDTH I’ve seen this quote a lot:

In a wider sense it doesn’t have to mean anything, just a powerful ending to Bryde’s cheesy monologue about Ronan being too good for basic humanity, but I immediately read it literally.

-       do you long back?

And just two pages afterwards we get this:

Coincidence? I think not.

Bryde knows what Ronan is and where he comes from - the sky.

The question of “what am I” is something Ronan struggles with during the entire course of TRC and a vital part of his storyline.

And it’s always this:

Not who am I, What am I.

During the first four books Ronan struggles both with this huge existential dilemma of “what” and with more mundane questions regarding “who” he is. I think Ronan’s coming of age-arc, especially the “why do you hate yourself”/ “I don’t” - scene in TRK is one of the most moving scenes in YA. I read that as being about “who” he is. And In CDTH he’s older, he’s figured a lot of shit out. There are no negative feelings left about him being gay for example. Not in relation to his family, himself or to his religion.

But he still has a lot of negative feelings and anxiety about being able to create life. He still struggles with his identity as a dreamer alongside his identity as a catholic.

Ronan being religious adds so much to his character and this is why I can’t help but read A LOT into the religious symbolism. And it’s there.

Maggie herself posted this a while ago to clear up why Ronan gets so mad in BLLB when the copy of him dies. It clarifies multiple things - that Ronan is very much stuck in toxic masculinity and refuses to show vulnerability while also being very vulnerable, as well as how the situation mirrors his suicide-attempt, which is obviously triggering. But for this theme I want to highlight these two paragraphs:

“First, the setting. Adam is not religious, but Ronan is, and St. Agnes is a place he goes with the broken remains of his family. Now Ronan takes Adam — someone Ronan has only just allowed himself to admit internally that he likes, a lot — not just to the church, but to a private part of the church Ronan frequents on his own. “

And

“But to Ronan, it’s not just a copy. It’s a person who just happens to look like him. Remember that Ronan has spent his life loving dreamed people just as hard as real people. Ronan has spent enough time with Matthew and Aurora to know that even though they came from dreams, their feelings are real. They are not disposable. This other Ronan is really terrified, really in pain, and really dying.

And the real Ronan killed him. He’s killed someone.”

This is one of the very few times Maggie has explained something that isn’t explicit in the book. As we know Maggie is a major spokesperson for “the only things canon are the things in the book” but here she adds additional information. Why? Because it’s really, really important to Ronan’s character. Both the religion and his feelings about creating life. Especially these two combined.

He hates himself for a lot of things, and he hates himself for the ability to create -and therefore take away- life. Something only God is allowed to do.

Well yes Adam, maybe there are two gods in this church. Or something like it.

So - fallen angels? What does that mean really?

The story of fallen angels differ a lot from religion to religion, I’ll focus on the Christian tradition since that’s what our lord and savior Ronan Lynch would like. There isn’t a lot of Bible stories about it, it’s more of a tradition arising from later accounts in religious texts and poetry.

The Devil is a fallen angel who together with a bunch of other angels rebelled against God and was expelled from Heaven to Earth.

In some older interpretations the “angels” on Earth had children with humans and created giants, who in time became demons. Or, if you’re writing YA fantasy with a religious MC, maybe these descendants of angels became dreamers.

Lucifer rebelled against God because he too wanted the power that God possessed.

“Lucifer apparently became so impressed with his own beauty, intelligence, power, and position that he began to desire for himself the honor and glory that belonged to God alone. The sin that corrupted Lucifer was self-generated pride.” 

I sure think that sounds like Bryde, and it sounds a lot like the sin Ronan fears God will judge him for.

And on the subject of the Devil. Who in this series is often referred to as a “devil of a boy?”

It’s our man, Ronan.

A quick search of the word “Devil” in the Raven Cycle (1-4) led me to a number of passages, mostly as part of a saying, but at some occasion to specifically describe someone, or as a direct reference to someone.

Ronan, Niall, Kavinsky and Aurora. Dreamers and their dreams.

Coincidence? I think not.

The same search in Call Down the Hawk I would say really confirms this recognition of mine. It has for starters this wonderful paragraph:

But it also broadens the parable to all of the Lynch brothers.

The upper quote about the three brothers all being handsome devils is the only time not even Matthew can avoid the metaphor. A character who up until then has only been compared to an angel.

Contradiction? No, not in the question of descendants to fallen angels.

A creature who are - by definition - both angel and devil, savior and sinner, companion of God as well as a child of Satan.

We don’t know for sure yet how one becomes a dreamer. But we do know that it in some way it’s inherited. In some peculiar way from parent to child. From one devil father to one of his devil sons, the one he created together with another one of his creations. Because Ronan therefore is a clone of Niall? Is Hennessy a clone of her mother? Kavinsky one of his parents? Maybe the next two books will tell. Regardless I still like the idea that they all descend from the first angels on earth, mixing with humans.

I also just have to mention that Ronan not only dream of the sky, but also on multiple occasions dream about flying. Not as a bird, but with his own wings.

So what do I think this will mean in the big scheme of things?

Not a lot honestly! I’m not even sure I’m arguing that this will be a plot point.

But I do think the paradoxical identity in descending from something so torn between good/evil is fucking perfect for Ronan. Someone who’s constantly torn between his own fuck-ups and wanting to do the right thing.

Who creates marvelous life in form of magical animals, angelic brothers and light where there needs to be light, but who also creates monsters, horrors and dangers.

Who wants to protect the world from climate change and protect the people he loves from danger and for all we know might instead accidentally end the world.

Who turns to God and fears hell at the same time as he’s presenting himself to the world as a devil of a boy.

I just think it’s beautiful, whether Maggie has a storyline planned with this or not.

So I’ll just end this thread with the upper picture and with the quote describing Ronans’ birth.

[nullset2]

Death Stranding and The Last Man on the Beach

I had a very personal connection with Hideo Kojima's Death Stranding last year. I liked its aesthetic, the symbolism, and really enjoyed the story and characters (even though they were a bit too deviantart for my tastes at some points). Its bullet points really resonated with me. It's a fantastic and misunderstood game, with obviously undercooked parts, but still more than worth its price of admission. It's a game about estrangement, heartbreak, loneliness, stress, death, sadness, crying (oh so much crying), and humanity coming together in the face of a catastrophe of massive scale.

In DS, people live in individual isolated rooms, cannot touch each other, interact exclusively through the Internet, and have to cover their faces around each other, and the amount of impact of a voidout is communicated through a map full of expanding dots, interesting, right? Turns out DS is also very apropos with the zeitgeist.

I like its depiction of The Beach. In DS, every character has the ability to travel to an interdimensional space called The Beach after Sam Porter disrupts the balance between life and death as the first repatriate, the first baby able to come back from the dead after he gains that power from Bridget Strand's gift as an extinction entity, which eventually led to the creation of the Chiral Network.

Chiral means "hand" etymologically, by the way. I didn't know. It makes an allusion to the current state of things, where we have a very powerful network that provides wifi everywhere, and that has enabled a lot of technology, but where at the same time we're still at a "crossroads", and we still need people to deliver our packages and drive our cars. We're still a ways to go from the Singularity where all of those things will be fully automated I guess. It also makes an allusion as in how the network can be a way to seek "connection", to reach out for the touch of the Other.

And I loved it because of its implications in an era of isolation like ours. I think that people, more and more, are opting out of relationships and interconnection in the age of the Internet, because it's the easy, clean and uncomplicated thing to do. The Internet can provide bastardized facsimiles of everything you could ever want and then some. There's no reason to suffer with the real world if you can just get hooked addictively to the saccharine world Online. For more and more people every day, the Internet is enough.

In Jungian literature, bodies of water represent the unconscious mind and by proxy, chaos. Taming the balance between consciousness and unconsciousness, between order and chaos, and between light and dark truly is one of the fundamental --if not, THE fundamental-- problem of the human condition. The fact that we evoled from beasts, unaware of their own nature, unable to recognize the future and plan ahead and think, to the curreht Homo Sapiens Sapiens is nothing short of marvelous. So, that's why I like depictions of water: it represents the abyss of the unconscious and how problematic it can be for the mind. Truly, if one goes into the water without due precautions, they will drown, much as how states of depression, anxiety and all neuroses are excesses of the unconscious mind seeping into our conscious life.

Being in the beach is being in the fringe between two worlds, which is a fantastic analogy for the modern middle aged man and for the modern, technological man. Living between two realities, with two natures, is the state of many if not all, in an era where reality trascends through the Internet. By being in between, we are nowhere -- neither here nor there. By living in the culture of the Now Now, we live in the never ending present, future nor past evermore. A soothing place, if also eerily lonely --and a place that is starting to give us all feelings of Death, of maybe being the last man standing after all.

It's an allusion to the Millenial generation: stuck between the future and the past, between the digital and analogue world, a cynical, fatigued generation that had to learn to be adults twice but feels at home nowhere in the world who uses social media a FUCKING LOT.

A passage from Seneca's epistles also makes an allusion to the beach, and I quote: "People may say: "But what sort of existence will the wise man have, if he be left friendless when thrown into prison, or when stranded in some foreign nation, or when delayed on a long voyage, or when out upon a lonely shore?" His life will be like that of Jupiter, who, amid the dissolution of the world, when the gods are confounded together and Nature rests for a space from her work, can retire into himself and give himself over to his own thoughts." So the beach is kind of like a purgatory of the self where people can retire into themselves and their own thoughts according to the cultural baggage of the Western world to be reborn and to emerge a better person.

So, is this going to be the gold standard for the Aeon? Every man an island? I think the signs are pointing to it as I said before. I think we are seeing a sharp decline in personal relationships, and it's going to become more exacerbated in the future.

But is all lost? Of course not, there is Hope.

From the collision of extremes, man and woman, sun and moon, order and chaos, comes the Child. The Otter, as literally Jung says, a version of the messianic/heroic archetype, which Sam Porter very obviously takes after. I'm certain that the fact that Sam Porter's spirit animal is the Otter and wears an "Otter Hood" was a very obvious reference to this, complete with how Sam swims like an Otter when in water. It's an allusion to its two-natured self.

The Child is the androgynous Otter, who, like Bridges between nations, lives across two Universes seamlessly, yet "neither here nor there". It's the Irrational Third, between categories, the collision of two Universes, Mother and Father, which brings the panacea through his sacrifice, brought forth by being constantly in pain, in suffering and at risk of extinction. The child is the Bridge to the future, the redemption of your bloodline and the one who brings us all together under his salvation. All heroic myths are versions of this --of very high notoriety, the story of Christ.

Now, before you start typing your insults, hear me out: it's not that I'm abiding for the Christian mythos here or that I want to become a preacher. Rather, it's that I believe that the Messianic myth is the most important artifact of our Modern Society and its very foundation. It comes from the notion of the self, which is a miracle exclusive to the Homo Sapiens Sapiens; the ability to be self-aware, to self sacrifice and think forward. The Messiah is the self inside every one of us, who selflessly and through constant sacrifices moves the World forward. Death Stranding ultimately is an ode to this, to the idea that no matter how horrible the world gets, as long as we all selflessly come together in sacrifice, we will make it in the end. By seeking not division and classification, but Unity and collaboration. Neither man or woman, sun or moon, or ying and yang, but the Syzygy of them both. Neither red or blue, but purple, and royally so

Like the Messiah with its Death and Resurrection, Sam Porter gets stuck in his Beach for an indeterminate amount of time to fullfill his mission in Death Stranding, yet manages to come back once his loving friends pull him out of the beach through a line of connection, reaching out to him and bringing him back to Earth. This is a beautiful allegory too --I urge you to reach out to the friends in your lives, and telling them that you love them. They may appreciate it more than you could EVER IMAGINE. It may be the difference between life and death for a lot of people right now.

And finally, by the way, I still stand behind the comparisons I made about Death Stranding to Chul-Han's material. Have at me bro.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Stormlight Archive Epigraphs (3) - Last Words

The epigraphs in TWOK Part 1 and Part 4 record the dying words of Rosharans.

We later learn that these “death rattles” describe prophetic visions, and are caused by the Unmade called Moelach, as well as that Taravangian is actively killing people in order to document their words.

I’ve tried to organize them by content. Minor spoilers for the prereleased chapters of Rhythm of War.

The Death of Honor

1) Ten orders. We were loved, once. Why have you foresaken us, Almighty! Shard of my soul, where have you gone?

- Collected on the second day of Kakash, year 1171, 5 seconds before death. Subject was a lighteyed woman in her third decade.

Refers to both the Recreance and the death of Honor.

2) Three of sixteen ruled, but now the Broken One reigns.

- Collected: Chachanan, 1173, 84 seconds pre-death. Subject: a cut-purse with the wasting sickness, of partial Iriali descent.

The Heralds

3) Ten people, with Shardblades alight, standing before a wall of black and white and red.

- Collected: Jesachev, 1173, 12 seconds pre-death. Subject: one of our own ardents, overheard during his last moments.

4) The burdens of nine become mine. Why must I carry the madness of them all? Oh, Almighty, release me.

Dated Palaheses, 1173, unknown seconds pre-death. Subject: a wealthy lighteyes. Sample collected secondhand.

This is pretty clearly spoken from the point of view of Talenel on Braize, the only obe of the ten Heralds to keep the Oathpact.

5) A woman sits and scratches out her own eyes. Daughter of kings and winds, the vandal.

Dated Palahevan, 1173, 73 seconds pre-death. Subject: a beggar of some renown, known for his elegant songs.

This is a reference to Shallash, the Herald associated with the Lightweavers (and with creativity and art generally), who now goes around vandalizing art of herself

The ‘Voidbringers’ (in quotes due to revelations in Oathbringer)

6) They are aflame. They burn. They bring the darkness when they come, and so all you can see is that their skin is aflame. Burn, burn, burn...

- Collected on Palahishec, 1172, 21 seconds pre-death. Subject was a baker’s apprentice.

7) I see them. They are the rocks. They are the vengeful spirits. Eyes of red.

- Kakakes 1173, 8 seconds pre-death. A darkeyed young woman of fifteen. Subject was reportedly mentally unstable since childhood.

8) That chanting, that singing, those rasping voices.

- Kaktach 1173, 16 seconds pre-death. A middle-aged potter. Reported seeing strange dreams during highstorms during the last two years.

Reference to the Parshendi calling the Everstorm.

9) Victory! We stand atop the mount! We scatter them before us! Their homes become our dens, their lands are now our farms! And they shall burn, as we once did, in a place that is hollow and forlorn.

- Collected on Ishashan, 1172, 18 seconds pre-death. Subject was a lighteyed spinster of the eighth dahn.

This seems to be referencing the humans (the actual Voidbringers) deplacing the Singers, as described in the Eila Stele.

The Everstorm

10) The love of men is a frigid thing, a mountain stream only three steps from the ice. We are his. Oh Stormfather...we are his. It is but a thousand days, and the Everstorm comes.

- Collected on the first day of the week Palah of the month Shash of the year 1171, 31 seconds before death. Subject was a dark-eyed pregnant woman of middle years. The child did not survive.

11) I have seen the end, and have heard it named. The Night of Sorrows, the True Desolation. The Everstorm.

- Collected on the 1st of Nanes, 1172, 15 seconds pre-death. Subject was a darkeyed youth of unknown origin.

12) They named it the Final Desolation, but they lied. Our gods lied. Oh, how they lied. The Everstorm comes. I hear its whispers, see its stormwall, know its heart.

- Tanatanes 1173, 8 seconds pre-death. An Azish itinerant worker. Sample of particular note.

Specific Events in the Books

13) A man stood on a cliffside and watched his homeland fall into dust. The waters surged beneath, so far beneath. And he heard a child crying. They were his own tears.

- Collected on the 4th of Tanates, year 1171, 30 seconds before death. Subject was a cobbler of some renown.

I think this is referencing something from Dalinar’s visions in TWOK, but I don’t remember them clearly. I’ll keep an eye out for it on this read-through.

14) He must pick it up, the fallen title! The tower, the crown, and the spear!

- Dated Vevahach, 1173, 8 seconds pre-death. Subject: a prostitute. Background unknown.

Could be a reference to Kaladin, Dalinar, or both. “The Tower” could be the rock formation of that named where the main battle occurs in TWOK, or (more likely) Urithiru. Dalinar has now taken up rulership of Urithiru. The spear is generally identified with Kaladin, as his primary weapon. Probably broadly referring to the need to refound the Knights Radiant.

15) They come from the pit, two dead men, a heart in their hands, and I know that I have seen true glory.

- Kakashah 1173, 13 seconds pre-death. A rickshaw puller.

Shallan and Kaladin returning from the chasm in WOR, specifically referenced in the chapter title “True Glory”. The use of “two men” for a man and a woman indicates that these statements do not need to be taken precisely literally.

16) All is withdrawn for me. I stand against the one who saved my life. I protect the one who killed my promises. I raise my hand. The storm responds.

- Tanatenev, 18 seconds pre-death. A darkeyed mother of four in her sixty-second year.

Kaladin defending Elhokar against Moash in WOR. Specifically referenced in the chapter title “The One Who Killed Promises.”

17) In the storm I awaken, falling, spinning, grieving.

- Dated Kakanev, 1173, 13 seconds pre-death. Subject was a city guardsman.

This may be Szeth in the Everstorm at the end of WOR, after Kaladin defeats him, but I’m not sure of it. His ‘awakening’ would be the awareness that he was, in fact, right about the return of the Knights Radiant and the Desolations.

18) The darkness becomes a palace. Let it rule! Let it rule!

- Kakevah 1173, 22 seconds pre-death. A darkeyed Selay man of unknown profession.

I think this is referring to the two Unmade in the palace of Kholinar in OB.

19) Above the final void I hang, friends behind, friends before. The feast I must drink clings to their faces, and the words I must speak spark in my mind. The old oaths will be spoken anew.

- Dated Betabanan, 1173, 45 seconds pre-death. Subject: a lighteyed child of five years. Diction improved remarkably when giving sample.

I think this is referencing Dalinar’s third oath at the climax of Oathbringer, and his creation of a contact point between the three realms; the phrasing is similar to Dalinar’s in the preface of (in-universe) Oathbringer (I hung between realms...), and “friends behind, friends before” describes him having loved ones in both the physical realm and in Shadesmar at that moment.

The Unmade

20) Re-Shephir, the Midnight Mother, giving birth to abominations with her essence so dark, so terrible, so consuming. She is here! She watches me die!

- Dated Shashabev, 1173, 8 seconds pre-death. Subject: a dark-eyed dockworker in his forties, father of three.

21) Let me no longer hurt! Let me no longer weep! Dai-Gonarthis! The Black Fisher holds my sorrow and consumes it!

- Tanatesach, 1173, 28 second pre-death. A darkeyed female street juggler. Note similarity to sample 1172-89.

This one is particularly interesting, but I’ll discuss it in combination with the other epigraphs on the Unmade.

Taravangian’s Murders

These quotes are included specifically to reveal that people are being deliberately killed to obtain these visions.

22) You’ve killed me. Bastards, you’ve killed me! While the sun is still hot, I die!

- Collected on the fifth day of the week Chach of the month Betab of the year 1171, 10 seconds before death. Subject was a dark-eyed soldier 31 years of age. Sample is considered questionable.

23) I’m dying, aren’t I? Healer, why do you take my blood? Who is that beside you, with his head of lines? I can see a distant sun, dark and cold, shining in a dark sky.

- Collected on the 3rd of Jesnan, 1172, 11 seconds pre-death. Subject was a Reshi chull trainer. Sample is of particular note.

Very interesting. The speaker may be a potential Lightweaver, as they are seeing Cryptics and seeing into Shadesmar. Or the Cryptics may be drawn by the deception of the Healers who are killing people.

24) I wish to sleep. I know now why you do what you do, and I hate you for it. I will not speak of the truths I see.

- Kakashah, 1173, 142 seconds pre-death. A Shin sailor, left behind by his crew, reportedly for bringing them ill luck. Sample largely useless.

Miscellaneous

25) I’m cold. Mother, I’m cold. Why can I still hear the rain? Will it stop?

- Collected on Vevishes, 1172, 32 seconds pre-death. Subject was a lighteyed female child, approximately six years old.

26) Light grows so distant. The storm never stops. I am broken, and all around me have died. I weep for the end of all things. He has won. Oh, he has beaten us.

- Dated Palahakev, 1173, 16 seconds pre-death. Subject: a Thaylen sailor.

27) The death is my life, the strength becomes my weakness, the journey has ended.

- Dated Betabanes, 1173, 93 seconds pre-death. Subject: a scholar of some minor renown. Sample collected secondhand. Considered questionable.

A general reference to the first oath of the Knights Radiant, but inverted.

Unknown

28) I’m standing over the body of a brother. I’m weeping. Is that his blood or mine? What have we done?

- Dated Vevanev, 1173, 107 seconds pre-death. Subject: an out-of-work Veden sailor.

Interesting.

29) I hold the suckling child in my hands, a knife at his throat, and know that all who live wish me to let the blade slip. Spill its blood upon the ground, over my hands, and with it gain us further breath to draw.

- Dated Shashanan, 1173, 23 seconds pre-death. Subject: a darkeyed youth of sixteen years. Sample is of particular note.

Very interesting. What could this be referring to? Seeing the future is deeply taboo on Roshar, so it would be very strange for everyone to foresee doom from a newborn child. Based on the published chapters so far from ROW suggesting that Shallan has even more secrets predating her mother’s death (and given that her mother tried to kill her when she was still young), could this be related to her?

[something-in-the-seas]

November 18th, 1968

Ryan proves that he has not learned a thing since Bioshock. 

“Sally can say whatever she wants, just because she was one of the millions born today does not give her authority over me.”

One would think that after nearly ten years of dealing with Andrew Ryan, Jack would be immune to his rants and demands, but his father was exhausting. Truly exhausting. Just attempting to have a simple conversation with him was draining.  He could say the sky was blue and Ryan would then argue that the sky was actually green. Or, he could say that the weather was nice, and Ryan would then complain about how it was too hot or cold for his liking. Nothing ever satisfied him.

Jack supposed it was to be expected given how devoted he was to his beloved city. He put his heart, soul, everything he had into its creation, including his billion-dollar fortune, which, in turn, kept him trapped here; with them. None of his rich buddies in New York cared enough about him, Ryan alienated practically every ally he had there by considering them too ‘simple’ for his grand utopia. Besides, if any of them were as callous he was, they would have laughed him right of the city for daring to ask for a handout. Hell, not even the media cared. When word got around that he had somehow been spotted on the shores of Saratoga Falls after nearly twenty years, the only mention of it was a small paragraph in The National Enquirer. The grand return of the prodigal son was instead a fizzle; unbefitting for the once richest man in America.

 And so, Andrew Ryan was stuck in a small town, full of people he loathed, depending on his ‘greatest disappointment’ to provide for him in his senior years. It was like some twisted purgatory for him, but instead of somehow learning from this and bettering himself as a person, he decided to make everyone as miserable as him. If he couldn’t be happy, no one could.

How very collectivist of him.

“Dad, it’s gonna take five minutes tops,” Jack said as he rubbed his temples. Yep, there was that migraine. “Come on, all she wants is for everyone to be here.”

“Everyone will be here, and when they arrive, they can go to the fridge and take a slice,” Ryan replied with a wave of his hand. “I’m sure there will be plenty left unless your wife sucks them down like the human vacuum cleaner she’s become lately.”

Jack scowled. “You don’t talk about Elizabeth like that, you got me?” he warned, wagging his finger.

And the older man crossed his arms and huffed, as if he were a child being scolded. “General Hospital is almost on, it is the one fulfilling thing I have left in my life, so I demand silence while I watch it.”

“You want to watch your soap opera? Fine, you can watch your soap opera. I’m sure Sally will compromise with you and we can do cake during a commercial break.”

Ryan shook his head. “No, that will not work.”

“What do you mean that won’t work?”

“ABC’s commercials are only thirty-seconds long, I’d miss too much in the time it takes for you to gawk at the cake, snap unnecessary pictures, and harmonize off each other like hyenas in coitus.”

Leta, who had been silent the entire time, cringed at that lovely metaphor. She looked at her father to see what he was going to say next, but frankly he didn’t know how to respond. His blood pressure was sky-rocketing. It was taking everything in him not to lose his patience, which was exactly what his father wanted so he could have the upper-hand.

If Ryan’s stubbornness was genetic, Jack was really going to be in trouble in the next few years with the baby.

Thankfully, what sounded to be a herd of elephants stomping down the steps meant that his two other girls. Sally and Masha, were coming down, and with them, his wife. Finally, a united front. Dealing with Andrew Ryan was a family affair and he desperately needed reinforcements.

Ryan reacted appropriately for a man of his age when cornered by his son, his pregnant daughter-in-law, and three teenage girls. He huffed like a toddler during a tantrum. It was a pitiful sight. For a man who used his wealth and talents to build the most advanced societies ever conceived to get away from welfare to pout in his bathrobe and bunny slippers as he relied on his son to survive must have been humiliating.

But, Andrew Ryan would never admit defeat. That would take away the last shred of dignity he desperately clung onto. From an underwater city full of deranged addicts to soap operas and birthday cake, he’d go down kicking and screaming, never admitting being wrong or pinning the blame on someone else.

Sally’s the first one to speak. Unlike the other girls, who were much more combative and aggressive when it came to ‘debating’ with their grandfather, she had a different approach. “Grandpa, I know you want to watch your show,” she began as she sat on the edge of the kitchen table, playing with one of the straps of her faded, pink denim jumper shorts. “And, of course, your happiness matters. So, we can do cake after your show is over, how does that sound.”

Ryan paused for a moment. His brows furrowed as he put a hand to his chin. Jack was impressed. It was looking as if she had him, a nigh impossible feat. “No.”

“What do you mean no?” Sally, taken aback, asked incredulously.

“What, you can’t spare five minutes of your time to sing?”

“No, I cannot, Elizabeth,” the older man replied matter-of-factly.

Leta, who had been silent since entering the kitchen with Jack, finally chimed in. “You get to watch your show, though? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“After the show is over at nine, it will be my bedtime.”

“Bedtime?” Masha scoffed with a smirk. “What are you? Five?”

“No, it is called aging, Masha!” Ryan snapped, his eyes narrowing at the fifteen-year-old. “And while it may be hard to understand due to your youth and the seemingly infinite energy that comes with it, as people grow old, they get tired earlier. Therefore, they have to go to sleep earlier.”

“Oh, so you’re Benjamin Button, then? Got it, with every passing year, you turn more into a man-child.”

“Very smart, Masha. I’m surprised you knew that reference. I would think it’s too old and complicated for your small, feeble mind, unlike, say The Beatles high on whatever brain-frying drugs they take to spew their bolshevik propaganda garbage-”

Elizabeth put her hands on her hips. “Sally’s willing to hold off and wait until your show is over, and here you are, doing what you always do: being selfish and inconsiderate of everyone else around you!” Her lips pursed. “One day. That’s all we were hoping for. One day of you just going with the flow and not arguing-”

“Well, then let’s just do cake now then!”

“We’re waiting for Janice and Rosie! I want everybody here so we can all do this as a family!” Sally said, though her sweet facade was beginning to crack and show a hint of annoyance.

“And there will be plenty of cake left for them when they are here!”

The stress-induced migraine Jack had finally reached its boiling point. He was putting his foot down, figuratively and literally. He pressed his finger into his father’s chest. “You’re doing cake with us no matter what time we do it, and that’s final,” he hissed. “I don’t care if it’s three in the morning, your ass is going to be there.”

“Or what? You’ll drag me out of bed?” Ryan asked, staring down at his son’s much larger finger as if it were a joke. “Frankly, this country may be a husked shell of what it used to be, but I know I am well within my rights to go to bed when I please and you can’t force me to do anything.”

Jack scowled. His index finger poked deeper.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You thought that ten years ago,” the younger man said. “You really want to test that hypothesis again?”

That seemed to change Ryan’s tune. His bemused, smug expression dropped as his brows raised and eyes shot open. He glanced down at the finger jammed into his chest and then back up at his son’s frown for a few seconds before slowly brushing away his hand. “I see, you have made your point.”

“I know what’s going on.” Masha chortled, nudging at Leta with her elbow. “He doesn’t want to meet Janice’s new boy-toy, Daniel-”

“David,” Elizabeth corrected.

“Yeah, sure, David,” Masha continued, rolling her eyes. “Why else would he want to do cake now and run up to bed with his tail between his legs?”

“I’m not running with my tail between my legs. As I recall, I am not a dog, but a human being, Masha, and human beings do not have tails-”

“Oh, shut the fuck up-”

“Hold on, this is what the problem is?” Jack put his hand up, silencing everyone. Now it was all starting to make sense. “Janice’s boyfriend? Really?”

Ryan crossed his arms. “You know how these college kids are today! They all fall into the collectivist group mentality and are pumped out by schools to hate the free market! The very same system that has given their mommy and daddy wealth and the cushy, comfortable life they have!” He turned his head away and huffed. “Especially in California, the breeding ground of parasitic degenerates like those goddamn hippies.”

“You haven’t even met the kid and you’re already got him out to be a bum!” Jack cried.

“Oh, but I have heard plenty about him! He’s from California! I bet he’s ‘free-spirited.’ A real ‘bohemian.’” Ryan said with finger quotes. “The last thing we need is her bringing a hippie into the house. They don’t bathe because they believe all the water on Earth is going to magically dissipate, so they roll around in their own filth. Like bringing a farm animal into your home.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Janice wouldn’t date a slob, Andrew.”

“You don’t know what that college has done to her! It’s changing her!”

“Whatever you say.” Jack shook his head. “Listen, they’re going to be home in the next ten minutes so I’m expecting you to be on your best behavior-”

Ryan was flabbergasted. “I am not a child, son-”

“Then stop acting like one,” he replied as the group began to disperse. “You’re going to be there for cake and you’re going to be nothing but polite to David. End of discussion.”

“Now, wait a minute-”

Jack wrapped his arm around his wife and led her out of the room, but not before waving his hand, his back turned away from his father. “No, no, this discussion is over.”

And before Ryan could open his mouth again to argue, he was alone in the kitchen. He turned his attention down to the floor, where Spot, the nine-week-old Australian Shepherd laid, completely exhausted from barking at a beetle an hour prior. The puppy blinked at him.

“I’ll tell you this,” he said. “I’m not shaking that parasite’s hand. I’d rather not risk getting the bubonic plague, thank you.”

Spot tilted his head. His big ears flopped over. 

“Well, at least you listen.” 

[shyvioletcat]

Kingdom of Ash Tour Sydney

Oh my gosh, I’m sorry this took so long. My notes were much more extensive than I thought and then just a lot of poor time management. Anyway, here it is.

A few choice bits of information/quotes:

“Being a dork pays off you guys. Who knew?”

Says Melbourne like a local

Loves our coffee. Says she’s moving here because of it.

Advice to aspiring writers: find someone to share your work with. Giving and getting feedback teaches you so much. Gives you a form of community.

Got into writing because it’s what she loves and it makes her come alive like nothing else does.

Music plays a Huge part in her creative process

Daily writing schedule. Plays with Taran then about 930/10 she starts. Gets admin stuff done first 9-8 job.

Nothing compares to sitting down and writing a scene she’s wanted to write for years and years. Describes it as time stopping and the closest thing to magic, at least for her.

Had a question about her creative circle for bouncing ideas around and talking about her stories. Sarah didn’t talk to her family about her stories at all when she was younger. Doesn’t like her parents reading her books. She referred back to writing ACOTAR and she asked the audience “do you know what it’s like to write an on the page sex scene knowing my father was going to read this?” Said it took her about three glasses of wine to deal with it.

About her dad reading said scenes: He said “I just skip those scenes.” Sarah’s reply “I’ll do you one better. I’ll just rip those pages out.” Then she talked how it was much worse when ACOMAF came out the next year.

Josh has become her creative sounding board over the last few years. He reads the early drafts of Crescent City and lets Sarah ramble to him for hours. She thinks it’s really cute they get to do that.

He thinks he’s every love interest in all her books. At events people ask if he’s what Rhys was modelled from. Josh will say yes. Sarah was very adamantly said it was a no.

Fellow writers help her from looking like a complete idiot. In particular Lynette Noni. Calls her a secret Disney Princess. Has become her can’t live without critique partner.

She said don’t listen to the people who say writing is a dumb dream. But said it’s a long long road to getting published but not impossible. “Don’t ever listen to the haters man.”

Her parents were always incredibly supportive. Her mum would leave snacks outside her door so she wouldn’t disturb her while she wrote

When her parents told her that she needed a job to support herself Sarah didn’t want to listen. But she said they were ultimately right because there are no guarantees in publishing. One of her favourite moments is when she became a New York Times best seller and she got to call and tell her parents. The first thing her mum said was she regretted telling Sarah to be realistic about the expectations of yourself. But Sarah was adamant they were right.

She thanked us and got quite emotional. Thanked us for supporting her books, she was walking around Sydney harbour and thought to herself how lucky I am to do this for a living.

Someone from the audience screamed “I love you” she said “I love you too, I love you all so much” (insert my hysterical tears). She couldn’t express how much she appreciates everything we all have done for her and her family, the fact we have allowed her to live out her dreams. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart for this being the loveliest group of people I’ve ever had the honour to meet”. SHE LOVES US.

Crescent city

Doesn’t think her parents can read a single page of crescent city. Joking, it’s every other page. Started as excess creative energy, a real passion project. 

Describes it as taking the ToG/ACOTAR worlds and jumping ahead over 3000 years to where they have modern technologies and comforts. Magical creatures living together in complex hierarchies. Feels different because of the modern setting but has familiar aspects, e.g. snarky sassy heroines and brooding sexy muscled men. Says there are so many. So many.

Josh: “why are there so many attractive men in this book?” Sarah “because it’s a fantasy. FAN-TA-SY.”

No real defined plot yet.

Knew it was the story she wanted to tell because of an experience on a plane. Sarah was listening to a piece of music and saw a scene play out and she burst into tears. She didn’t know the characters or how they got there. The scene will be in the first book and is like THE MAJOR BIG SCENE. Kept thinking of that moment of creation and how much it overwhelmed her and that was the deciding factor that that was the next story she needed to tell.

World of Throne of Glass

World of Throne of Glass. Started off as an encyclopaedia. It will be a chronicle that exists in world and Sarah describes it like going into the library of Orynth and pulling it off the shelf. The premise of the book is that Aelin has hired this cranky old scholar to travel around all the kingdoms/continents and includes the travel logs, transcripts from interviews with the characters, insight into how they felt, letters between characters. The book itself is like the the Terrasen courts private copy so it has letters between characters. Glimpses into the future.

BUT THIS MEANS IT WILL COME OUT LATER

ALSO SAID THERE ARE POCKETS OF HISTORY SHE REALLY WANTS TO FILL IN AND THERE’S ALSO LOTS OF STORIES THAT MAYBE ONE DAY SHE MIGHT WANT TO TELL SHE JUST NEEDS TIME TO THINK ABOUT IT. SORRY I’M JUST REALLY EXCITED ABOUT THIS.

Throne of Glass/ACOTAR

The idea of Throne of Glass came to her when she was 15/16 years old. Gripped her like no other story had. Throne of glass has a special place in her heart because it’s what started her on this journey.

Sarah was changing Kingdom of Ash right up the very last minute.

Mystery questions from the lobby:

What would happen if all your villains met?

The thought of Maeve and Amarantha gave her chills to think about. Would they rip each other to shreds or form and unholy alliance? Undecided.

Did you cry during the writing of the final book? If so which moments?

Number one scene. The Thirteen. 

Gave lots of details about when Manon first appeared, a piece of music from the Fright Night remake was playing and she saw the cottage scene play out. She saw Manon disembowel the farmers and how her teeth and claws came out and just thought “I love you”.

Loved witches since she was little because she realised witches were often women with power when women weren’t allowed to have power.

Sarah went to the mat for Manon. She hadn’t sold the rest of the books, only up to Heir of Fire. Writing about Manon gave Sarah her courage and came into her life when she needed her attitude. She said “Over my dead effing body” when editor said to cut Manon.

Sarah listened to a song from the original star wars and that was when she saw the sacrifice of the Thirteen. She needed to have Manon start where she did in Heir of Fire so when we all got to the scene in Kingdom of Ash is would really hit us strongly as it had hit Sarah for the first time. Sarah was sobbing at her desk when she saw them making their final run. She saw then Manon screaming and begging them to to stop because she realised she had a heart and loved them.

Sarah said she needed to lie down afterwards, she considered a happy ending for a moment, but then she thought about how the ladies never get to make the big heroic sacrifice and she really wanted the Thirteen to make the badass sacrifice and she wanted to make that moment when their exploding with light and not darkness absolutely destroyed Sarah.

Happier scene is the last goodbye between the main three, sobbing so hard. Really ugly crying not Frodo crying nicely at the end of The Return of the King, but bodily fluids spraying everywhere. So many tears.

Sarah would also get super amped up. Example: When Elide saves Lorcan she got so amped up she literally straddled her chair like she was riding a horse. (She re-enacted it on stage too). Then it was just more ladies were doing their badass thing like:

as Aelin flies down on the bird and explodes and destroys the wave and then Rowan is like that steam is going to boil every one like lobsters, got to get rid of that.

When Aelin makes her run and Lorcan sees her and he’s crying, you know if Lorcan’s crying some intense shit is going down

Then when Aelin is trying to get the mask off. That hit Sarah hit her so hard, didn’t expect it. Felt physically ill writing it. It was one of the few times Aelin was unhinged and in a panic. Seeing Aelin in a panic out Sarah in a panic.

Aelin has been like a person to Sarah and has carried Sarah through a lot of hard stuff. Sarah has said to herself “my name is Sarah J Maas and I will not be afraid”

Would say “What would Aelin do?” to give herself that swagger. Any time Aelin is in pain Sarah was in pain and would be like “My baby my baby! Let me help you”. 

Such a joy to write. Aelin was telling her and showing Sarah where to go.

ABOUT THE ENDING OF KINGDOM OF ASH: Travelling in Costa Rico to a rainforest exists at cloud level. (Side note from Sarah: Vote for the environment! Do it for the golden toad). One of the most beautiful places she has ever been. Sitting in the backseat listening to music from John Carter of Mars. Sun broke through the clouds and lit up the mountains and Sarah heard the last line of Kingdom of Ash about the kingsflame blooming and she knew what the last line was and that’s what she wanted to get to. She starting crying (surprise surprise) didn’t want to tell her travelling companions so she lied and said she was crying because the view was so beautiful. Writing with Aelin at the helm guaranteed her nothing. Aelin did it though, she stuck to Sarah’s plans and Sarah got the ending she wanted.

Call out from the audience about Gavriel. Uproar from the audience. “Why did you do that!?” “Why would I do that? Because I’m a horrible person.” Any time a hot guy full of muscles dies it’s a sad day. Poor Aedion. “It would have been so hot! Not in a weird way! The two of them hanging out, the lion and the wolf and oh my heart... you mean I have no heart, that’s what you’re thinking.” Evil cackle.

Who of all your characters do you see sitting in a rocking chair and knitting and telling their grandchildren the wildest stories in their old age?

Throne of Glass. Dorian. Don’t know why.

ACOTAR world would 1000% be Cassian. Nessian book will come out after Crescent City. She started it just for fun, hadn’t planned to write last ACOWAR. Sarah was out to lunch with her editor and got a little drunk and pitched her other books, but then forgot. Agent called a few weeks later telling her the editor wants to buy these books.

She literally doesn’t have the time to get all the stories she wants out of her. Wishes she had Hermione’s time turner.

So that’s it. Again, sorry it took me so long. Sarah was so lovely and I still can’t believe I got to see her in person. There’s a lot I took away from her talk for myself, mainly just how adamant she was about being yourself is the way to go. We’re better off when we’re true to ourselves and love the tings we love without feeling bad for it. 

[mittensmorgul]

Back to the tnt loop after the fact because Real Life interfered earlier... which brings us to 4.07, It's The Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester. Happy Halloween...

Even the title is meta on how little they actually know about what's really going on. From the superwiki quote about the title reference, it's from the Peanuts Halloween special I used to watch every year as a kid.

Linus believed that on Halloween night, the Great Pumpkin rose out of the pumpkin patch he deemed the most "sincere". The Great Pumpkin then flew around and delivered toys to all the good little children in the world. Each year, Linus would wait in a suitably sincere pumpkin patch hoping to see the Great pumpkin, who reputedly only appeared to those who believed in it.

Seriously, if you haven’t seen it (or if it’s been years since you saw it), go read the plot synopsis real quick: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It%27s_the_Great_Pumpkin,_Charlie_Brown

At every house the kids visit for trick or treat, all the other kids get candy but Charlie Brown gets a rock. And yet he keeps going, rock after rock. He’s only invited to the halloween party so they can draw a jack-o-lantern face on the back of his head for laughs. and yet he still quietly supports Linus even after the Great Pumpkin fails to show. Linus blames himself for “lacking sincerity” because exhausted in the middle of the night he said “if the great pumpkin” shows up, instead of WHEN. He lost faith, and blamed THAT for why he failed to draw the great pumpkin... and heck if that isn’t what Sam is struggling with...

Sam is confronted about using his powers by Uriel in an episode where his “job” as a “specialist” was to literally wipe the entire town off the map if Sam and Dean failed to save it. The confrontation comes off as an obvious threat, and yet by the end of the episode Sam is resorting to using his powers to send Samhain back to Hell, because it was either that or let Samhain kill him and go on to destroy the town anyway... He was manipulated into a situation where he felt he had no choice, in an episode where Uriel went out of his way to insist that they shouldn’t have a choice, and that he and Castiel should grab Dean and remove him from the town (no mention of what Uriel thinks they should do with Sam...), and just destroy it anyway.

This feels a heck of a lot like Ruby’s solution in 3.12-- kill the virgin and save everyone else-- that was never really a choice at all. Compromise your morals, or know that the Bad Guy is gonna potentially do even worse.

The two witches each thinking they’d sacrifice the other to bring Samhain back, but it’s Sam and Dean who end up inadvertently killing one of them, making the third sacrifice... (and then the surviving witch is killed anyway, despite having been loyal enough to raise Samhain herself). Following orders doesn’t really pay in this episode.

And the kicker is Cas's confession at the end:

CASTIEL: Our orders were not to stop the summoning of Samhain, they were to do whatever you told us to do. DEAN: Your orders were to follow my orders? CASTIEL: It was a test, to see how you would perform under... battlefield conditions, you might say. DEAN: It was a witch, not the Tet Offensive. So I, uh, failed your test, huh? I get it. But you know what? If you would have waved that magic time-traveling wand of yours and we had to do it all over again, I’d make the same call. 'Cause see, I don’t know what’s gonna happen when these seals are broken, hell I don’t even know what’s gonna happen tomorrow. But what I do know is, that this, here? These kids, the swings, the trees, all of it is still here because of my brother and me. CASTIEL: You misunderstand me, Dean, I’m not like you think. I was praying that you would choose to save the town. DEAN: You were? CASTIEL: These people, they’re all my father’s creations. They’re works of art, and yet, even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken and we are one step closer to hell on earth, for all creation. Now that’s not an expression, Dean, it's literal. You of all people should appreciate what that means. ( DEAN looks at him a little pained, and sad. ) Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul? DEAN: Okay. CASTIEL: I’m not a… hammer as you say. I have questions, I have doubts. I don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here. But in the coming months you will have more decisions to make. I don’t envy the weight that’s on your shoulders, Dean. I truly don’t.

The universe is attempting to crush Dean Winchester specifically, and the pressure is mounting... And even an angel has his own doubts and suspicions about the orders he's been given, and the motives of whoever is at the source of those orders. But he doesn't yet know enough to directly question what's really going on.

eta: omg how did I forget this episode had zombies in it? ZOMBIES. I mean... 

[weirendavidong]

what is “glorify”?

there are two questions that i’ve pondered about for the past few weeks:

Q1: What does it mean to “glorify” God... Q2: In everything that we do?

Definitely, these are just one man’s thoughts, I would not deem it definitive - it is just a personal way to understand a somewhat nebulous concept.

“What does it mean to “glorify” God...?”

Perhaps the best initial approach is to rule what “glorify” is not:

Some would come to think that it is ADDING glory to God - as if to say that when something great is done, God gets a +10 Glory from your endeavours. Who are we, worms and creatures of dust, to be able to produce glory that can be added to God? 

Glorify does not equal to ADDING glory to God.

Next is an analogy I heard when I was younger that meant to serve as a negative example as well. Some would equate glorifying God to being similar to magnifying God’s glory - essentially taking a ‘magnifying glass’ to make God’s glory look bigger. That is insinuating that His glory is so small that He needs you  to help make it look bigger so that other’s can see it.

Glorify does not equal to “MAGNIFYING” God’s glory.

Then, I heard another analogy which countered the second one - it did help provide a slightly better framework for me to use for a while:

Perhaps it is not a magnifying glass that makes a small object visible, but a telescope, which helps make large celestial objects visible. The thing that probably seemed incomplete to me is this: it kind of suggests that God’s glory is so distant and far away - which to me is not the case.

“20 For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead, so that they are without excuse, 21 because, although they knew God, they did not glorify Him as God, nor were thankful, but became futile in their thoughts, and their foolish hearts were darkened. 22 Professing to be wise, they became fools, 23 and changed the glory of the incorruptible God into an image made like corruptible man—and birds and four-footed animals and creeping things.”

Romans 1

To me, the glory of God is made plain for all to see - just by looking at the expanse of Creation itself. The problem is with US. The only reason why a person is unable to recognise something so blatant is because they are blind. This is one precious thing robbed from us ever since the Fall - when we exchanged the glory of God for lesser things.

Glorify does not equal to making a distant glory nearer.

Next: to understand “glorify” we need to understand what “glory” is when boiled down to simple words.

If I were to explain it to a 7 year-old, “glory” would refer to what is wonderful about someone or something:

For example:

- A football team has glory if they can score many goals and win matches,  because that would make them a WONDERFUL football team.

- A conquering army has glory only if they fight well and win many wars, because that would make them a WONDERFUL army.

Glory comes when something is great. If something is terribly useless and lame, it definitely has no glory. If I had to use an object to better illustrate this, it would be like a torchlight:

A torchlight has to be able to shine light for it to work (if not, it is useless). What glory is is like the brightness of that torchlight (radiance). So if God is like a torchlight, the His glory is so great, it shines brighter than a supernova.

So back to “glorify”:

Since it is not to ADD more light, or make the light BRIGHTER, or to make the light come CLOSER... I would want to suggest (in very human terms), that to “glorify” God is to modulate (shape) light into the visible spectrum. 

God’s glory is all around us

- His creative power, exercised in Creation - His holiness, displayed in His character and laws - His justice, meted out at the Cross - His mercy, poured out from the Cross - His redemptive love, expressed at the Cross

The list is definitively INEXHAUSTIBLE - but do we always see all this brightness? 

To glorify God is to take the wonder of all these attributes of God, and to express them for others to see - very much like how a prism works. It may not be a perfect analogy, but in following with the concept of light being invisible when the whole sum of glory is coalesced - a prism helps to distinguish out the different flavours of light.

OF COURSE! There are still bajillions of wavelengths that a prism cannot translate for the naked eye - but that reflects the reality of God’s glory as well: we will NEVER be able to fully come to a conclusive understanding of the glories of God. Unending.

18 But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord.

2 Corinthians 3:18

But like I said, prism probably isn’t perfect in explaining it - I would like to say it is a hybrid prism-mirror: it has to REFLECT that light, and also express it in a more VISIBLE way for a blinded soul.

And one Man did this the best:

15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.

Colossians 1:15

9 Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you so long, and yet you have not known Me, Philip? He who has seen Me has seen the Father; so how can you say, ‘Show us the Father’?

John 14:9

Jesus was the perfect prism-mirror: not only was He the reflection of God’s glory, He IS the LITERAL personification of God. And in His time on earth, He showed the glory of God to those who were in darkness.

And He is the perfect link to the next question:

“in everything we do.”?

There are a thousand and one things that we can “do” in life - but the question itself builds good boundaries for us to work with:

It queries “in EVERYTHING we do”, and not “in ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING we do” - meaning that you can’t just do ANYTHING you please.

And this is something I take cue from from Jesus Himself who said:

“19 So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise.”

John 5:19

I want that. I only want to be doing what I see the Father is doing. Jesus didn’t go around doing what HE wanted to accomplish - He went around doing what the FATHER wanted to be accomplished.

People often quote: In everything you do, do it to the glory God (from 1 Corinthians 10:31) (lol as I typed this, I realised it’s the tagline for my tumblr. #GCB.)

This verse was not meant to give guarantee that every action you fancy to take would glorify God. Instead, it serves as a command to say: MAKE SURE that in EVERY action that you decide to make, make it so that it glorifies God.

I think I would like to better sum up this question with a discussion that happened between me and some friends on a bus ride:

As humans, we live to glorify something - and usually it boils down to one of two possibilities:

- We live for our own glory

- or we live for Someone else’s glory

And this can be distinguished by what motivates us to do the things in life: Am I studying because I want the good grades (or because Sean’s mother is nagging him)? Or am I studying because I know this is what God is calling me to do to the best of my ability?

Am I excelling in my career because I want to be promoted and recognised, or do I want to be a blessing to my colleagues around me?

Honestly, it seems very obvious if we are glorifying ourselves or God. But honestly as well, sometimes we choose to feign ignorance that we are self-seeking.

At the bottom line - how do I ensure that I am glorifying God in what I am doing? It is when I stop looking to myself and how I can benefit myself. 

Stop thinking about YOURSELF!!! (yes, I shouted that on the bus.) Not everything is about me - in fact, in the end, nothing is about me... everything is meant to reflect my God.

Do what you see the Father is doing, and you will reflect His glory on earth.

[marginalgloss]

to cleave the sea

Gene Wolfe wrote a story called The Island of Doctor Death and Other Stories, which in turn enabled him to put it out in a collection earnestly labelled The Island of Doctor Death and Other Stories and Other Stories. As a literary joke this is rather fun. Was it only a joke? The more I read into Wolfe’s fiction the more sure I become that for this author nothing is ever really just a matter of wordplay. Later he wrote stories called The Death of Dr. Island and Death of the Island Doctor, both of which are also featured in this collection. All three are quite different in style and apparently unrelated.  

In The Island of Doctor Death and Other Stories, a boy comes upon a paperback novel in a drugstore. The boy has the pleasingly odd name of Tackman Babcock, though he’s mainly referred to in the second person singular — as if he were you, the reader. 

Tackman is fascinated by the book:  

‘The covers are glossy stiff cardboard, and on the front is a picture of a man in rags fighting a thing partly like an ape and partly like a man, but much worse than either.’ 

Jason, the older man he’s with, says: ‘That’s camp. Did you know that?’. Is it camp? Tackman doesn’t really know what this world means, but in this context it would seem to be Jason’s way of dismissing what he sees as meaningless frippery. 

The story unfolds at first in direct quotation from the books: a somewhat butchered version of The Island of Dr Moreau, complete with a sinister vivisectionist and his half-human, half-animal creations. It is not long, however, before those characters become part of Tackman’s world in a very immediate way. Jason is not his father, and there is something strange going on at the costume party that evening.

The story assumes a shape which is somehow comforting, even through the chaos. Adult life is complicated, even incomprehensible, to you; but a white man’s adventures on strange foreign soil somehow make sense of it all. The story has it all — even pleasant moral platitudes, like ‘the evil are always foolish in the final analysis’. It is an appealing balance.

And it ends on a strange note: a sudden tragedy — or a sudden crime — and Doctor Death at the boy’s elbow, reassuring him that when he starts reading the story over again the characters will resume all their old roles. You’re too young to realise, he says, but it’s the same with you. The dominance of these archetypes is eternal, it seems. It’s hard to decipher whether this is a promise or a threat. 

***

The Death of Dr Island works a little differently. It is a science fiction story, though that much takes a while to become apparent: at first it appears to be about a boy on a desert island. His name is Nicholas Kenneth de Vore. Something has happened to Nick. Paragraphs of description are peppered with uncanny details: initially he emerges into the world via a hatch; his body is marked with traces of sutures; he hears voices which seem to come directly from the flora, fauna, and waves. 

Sometimes he screams: 

‘His screaming was high-pitched, and each breath ended in a gibbering, ululant note, after which came the hollow, iron gasp of the next indrawn breath. On one occasion he had screamed in this way, without cessation, for fourteen hours and twenty-two minutes, at the end of which a nursing nun with an exemplary record stretching back seventeen years had administered an injection without the permission of the attending physician.’ 

And he is not alone on the island. There are at least two others there: Ignacio, a violent and unpredictable older boy, and Diane, a strange young woman with whom Nick becomes involved. The island is part of a facility designed to contain the mentally ill. Nick has been through surgery to separate the two sides of his brain. 

What is this story? It’s a wild, strange, linguistic safari. Wolfe’s prose has a tendency to skip lightly along, as if he had written it out then carefully excised every alternate excessive concrete detail. He seems to encourage that feeling of being slightly lost. At its best it is mysterious, but sometimes it is slightly confounding. Writing about this now I find myself slightly at a loss to explain what this story is about, or even approach a satisfactory description of it. 

The story ends with Nick destroying the island — with the literal death of the thing, Dr Island. Is it a metaphor for how fighting against mental illness sometimes entails the destruction of the system of treatment itself? I don’t know. There is an elusiveness here, a resistance to interpretation, that makes me think of Nabokov in its playful textual manipulations; but also writers like Cormac McCarthy in terms of that muscular, allusive, dark, and wholly American style. 

***

Death of the Island Doctor is only a few pages long. It describes a retired professor, a man ‘a little cracked’, who is given the opportunity of running a seminar by his university. His name is Dr Insula and he asks to teach about islands:

‘I may also decide to include isles, atolls, islets, holms, eyots, archipelagoes, and some of the larger reefs…it depends how they come along, you know. But definitely not peninsulas.’

It is not especially clear whether this is intended to be a history class or a literature class. But at first, the question turns out to be irrelevant; the university awards the course no credit, and so of course no students attend. Insula goes on teaching his none-existent class for six years until, by a happy administrative accident, it is awarded a tiny amount of credit, and two students show up. 

They are a young man and a young woman, and since it is only them they go to his house to receive the seminar. He serves them tea, and talks to them:

‘He told them of Lucian’s travels to Antioch, Greece, Italy, and Gaul, and this led him to speak of the ships of that time and the danger of storms and piracy, and the enchantment of the Greek isles. He told them of Apollo’s birth on Delos; of Patmos, where Saint John beheld the Apocalypse; and of Phraxos, where the sorcerer Conchis dwelt. He said, “‘to cleave that sea in the gentle autumnal season, murmuring the name of each islet, is to my mind the joy most apt to transport the heart of man to paradise.’” But because it did not rhyme, the young man and young woman did not know he was quoting a famous tale.’

He gives them homework, too: Dr Insula tells them to take a little boat to an actual island, a specific place in their locality. He instructs them to come to their next meeting prepared to describe what it is they found magical there. And so they go, and nothing at all of note happens. The reader knows, I’m sure, that when the young man and young woman return for their next seminar they will find that old Dr Insula has since died; but how much more mysterious for him to be found sitting in the old boat in his garage, as if to set out to sea again one last time. 

This is one of Wolfe’s more comfortable stories, I think. In some ways it is gently conservative. It has a tone reminiscent of Calvino or Borges: that sense of a bibliophilia beautiful for its own sake which regardless becomes a sort of mental prison, a labyrinth of its own making, in which the protagonist is never quite sure if he is Theseus or the Minotaur. Dr Insula will never do anything again other than teach this non-existent class. He there in perpetuity. I don’t know if there isn’t something horrifying about this. 

Hope is manifest in the young man and young woman. (They are pointedly described as ‘young’ throughout.) The final line implies that they formed a relationship, and that later they came to realise Dr Insula wasn’t wrong about the island at all. It’s an echo of the final lines of The Island of Doctor Death and Other Stories — a reminder that life frequently happens in spite of our best intentions, and that the shape of our lives tends towards archetypes which we find reflected in fiction and myth.

[missrkl]

The Temple Chapter Twelve

The interview

I wish I could feel better, Rachel had thought to herself. Her life was hard, everything was always a fight. She always had to defend herself, stand up for herself, stand up for what she believed in. A lot of the time nobody cared, nor paid any attention. Rachel had to work extra hard just to be seen and heard sometimes, which did mean becoming a nuisance to many members of the temple, to which they never could understood. They couldn’t see beyond past their own annoyances. Right now Rachel stood with the Ecclesiastes gang. Ecclesiastes was going to interview Rachel in front of the gang, just some questions to get to know her better, understand her better. It was about learning to trust your leaders and to prevent them from being seen as idols that could topple and fall at any given moment. So Rachel sat in the armchair and Ecclesiastes sat in the opposite armchair and he informed her that he would ask her a series of questions and all she had to do was answer straight from the heart. Being honest and being real was more important than being right than wrong. What mattered was Rachel showing her humanity as well as her spirituality, in order for the eaglettes to have a balanced view of her. Rachel confirmed that she understood and braced herself for the coming questions. Ecclesiastes had warned her last night that these questions was not something you could study for, or plan answers in advance to. All she had to do was share herself with the team for a stronger and firmer bonding time.

Ecclesiastes began the interview:

1. How did you meet the Lord? A relatively easy question. Rachel answered: I met the Lord when I was 8 years old. I was in Catholic Church and I was in the Sunday school and we was colouring in Jesus on the boat with his disciples. I remember being transported both physically and mentally, in every sense of the word, all of my senses and physical sensations to being in that boat with Jesus and his disciples fishing. I felt the greatest peace and joy that could never be experienced on planet earth (true story, reference my book on Amazon Rachel Leynes The Power and The Glory). This was very important to me, being raised in an abusive home and an abusive school, I didn’t want to leave. Mum came to pick me up from Sunday school and she wouldn’t let me finish my colouring in of Jesus in the boat. I got very upset with her. After we left the meeting, she pinched me walking down the road and that just made me all the more determined to get back to that place as soon as possible. I loved Jesus then.

Ecclesiastes continued:

2. When did you next encounter Jesus and did you give your life to Christ then?

Rachel answered: no, I didn’t know about those things yet. I next encountered Jesus in another Sunday school setting, I was older by then, don’t remember the age. The Sunday school teacher was reading the Bible story about Jesus on the boat fishing, again, and then she had this big massive net on the wall and we each had a fish and we wrote our names on the fish and put it in Jesus net. After that I ran around school shouting how I belonged to Jesus, I was his child, Mary was my mother and Adonai was my father.

Ecclesiastes and the crowd was like ‘wow, so amazing’ (true story, reference my book Rachel Leynes, the power and the glory Amazon kindle only). So Ecclesiastes continued:

3. When exactly did you give your life to Jesus and accept Christ as your lord and saviour?

Rachel answered: when I was 13 years of age, my mother was invited to a bible study, but she didn’t want to attend. I so badly wanted to attend because one day when I was left to fend for myself at home (illegally) at 10 years old, I watched this cartoon on tv about a little girl searching the entire world for a scarce bible. It was shown to be as precious. So, without knowing about prayer I asked God for one, and so the bible study invitation was I knew my answer, God giving me one. So I went to the bible study and was amazed and ‘happy’ to be around people who loved the holy book like I did. Who had a passion as much as myself. I was then allowed to go to their church service and when the evangelical pastor called for anyone who wants to give their life to Christ, I did and I literally saw in my minds eye a door of my heart and Jesus knocking and me opening and sunshine ray of light coming, bursting through the doors into my darkness, or the darkness.

Everyone was silent, nobody had really taken the time to get to know Rachel like this, they all thought they knew her, but clearly they underestimated her relationship with Adon short for Adonai.

Ecclesiastes continued further:

4. Have you ever been persecuted for the faith?

Rachel sighed, yes she had. Rachel recalled the time in high school, year 7, she had just given her life to Christ at 13 years of age and so excited she proclaimed it to all the students of a Catholic school. How they mocked at her. Most especially Margaret. In class, and she didn’t mock Rachel per se, but she mocked Adam and Eve, Gods creation creative beginning and the bible itself. Rachel cried, she loved mashiac yeshua, Hebrew for jesus saviour of the world. People laughed at her crying because they said she wasn’t being mocked, her God was, the bible was. What they didn’t understand was, when they mocked her God, they mocked her, because Yah was her God and they were one. Two weeks later Margaret’s mother died and the whole class came to the conclusion it was her God that took her mother’s life. They soon became afraid of Rachel’s God. This led up to the point that all bullying against her stopped, plus when someone shouted at her a year later and she cried, that girl named Khadesha fell down the stairs, unharmed, in school. The whole class cornered khadesha and begged her to apologise to Rachel in case Rachel’s God got angry again, they said it was better to be safe than sorry. She didn’t understand their fears but feeling the weight of their peer pressure she did and Rachel only knew this because she heard them talking and she pretended she didn’t hear at all.

This also included the time Ruth in her older teenager days laughing again at Rachel’s faith and she bowed knelt on the ground in front of Rachel in mockery and proclaimed she worshipped Satan. Rachel didn’t know what to say, but just walked away. Nothing she could do about that, obviously.

On top of that was the persecution at home as well. Her parents were unbelievers and when she was still in primary school Rachel loved the holy book and Yah so much that she sprayed the bible with perfume and her mum came in and took the bible and hit her with it and said in a very stern yet also threatening voice “do you really think God is happy with you?” Rachel’s mother also tried drowning her in the bathtub shouting at her ‘you want Jesus! This is Jesus!’ Rachel shed a few tears (true story guys, this is all my true story, reference again my book on Amazon kindle only Rachel Leynes the power and the glory! Yes it’s been and still is a hard knock life, #loveshouldnothurt by Fabio d’andrea against domestic violence!)

The crowd was on the verge of tears unsure as how Rachel got through all of this, alone. She wasn’t in any church yet, she didn’t know about being born again yet!

Ecclesiastes continued:

5) do you struggle with any flaws? What are your weaknesses and strengths?

To which Rachel replied that her strength was in her God. Adonai covered for all of her weaknesses and she quoted the bible “when I am weak then I am strong” and how “God’s strength works best in my weakness.” She acknowledged before how she couldn’t pray and how she desperately wanted to be a good prayer warrior, so she asked Adon for strength in this, his strength in this and that he did, her prayers within the prayer teams only got stronger. Her strength was only in worship, in the talent that the temple never knew she had because of being labelled as The Voiceless, she was a worshipper of Yah, a singer, a musician, someone who always went back to the heart of worship rather than showcasing a performance. She didn’t want to mention Kai but she did, he was a platform performer outside of the temple and that always clouded his judgment in terms of leading worship because it always led to performances and shows, great for evangelistic drawing crowds, but not really from the heart. She then continued to say that she is not stating that Kai didn’t have a heart of worship, neither the elitists, it was just the way things were, for now.

Ecclesiastes decided to end the interview with one final question:

6) what’s next for you Rachel?

Rachel thought a minute and replied that she was considering writing a novel, many novels in fact, ones that showcase the true glory of Yahushua, something that no Harry Potter book could ever outshine.

Rachel stepped outside after the interview and breathed in the fresh winter breeze, she was glad that was over, being questioned like that in front of a crowd, nerve wrecking, but she was glad to show that Adonai was exactly who he said he was, most especially in her life.

Reference again my book as all of the interview stories are 100% real authentic true rachel Leynes the power and the glory on Amazon kindle only.

[the-knights-who-say-book]

Girls made of snow, language made of thorns, and putting ourselves back in the narrative

I’ve had some ideas swirling around my head ever since I finished reading Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust that condensed while I was reading Leigh Bardugo’s short story collection The Language of Thorns, so I want to talk about it a little.

It started with the realization that Girls made of Snow, while it is a Snow White retelling (or perhaps better called a reimagining), completely leaves out the whole seven dwarves part of the story. In my review, I pointed this out as something I liked — the story didn’t need to sidetrack there, and it kept us focused on the real core of the story: Lynet’s relationship with her stepmother, Mina. Lynet being Snow White, Mina is the Evil Queen.

The book alternates chapters between Lynet’s present day and Mina’s journey from the daughter of a sorcerer to the bride of Lynet’s father, making Mina the second main character. This is where the book’s “feminist fantasy reimagining” tagline comes in. The point of Bashardoust’s story is to explore the stepmother-daughter relationship and how they could come into conflict without it being about who is the fairest of them all.

The point of tension Bashardoust goes for is about politics and power, a much more satisfying reason than “well, women get angry when another woman is prettier, that’s all”. But the framework of Snow White also gives her plenty of room to work with how women’s appearances and age are seen and judged. What if Lynet’s beauty binds her to her dead mother in a way that strangles her, while Mina struggles with knowing her beauty gains her what respect she commands and aging could steal it away? The commentary that emerges isn’t new — I think we all realize how damaging the value placed on women’s appearances is — but using the cultural touchstone of Snow White makes this version powerful. It’s probably my favorite thing about the book, even above giving Lynet a female love interest, which is something we’re going to circle back to.

Consider, for example, Mina’s power to control glass. The idea of giving a woman who is forced to care about her beauty the power to make looking glasses into weapons (the power to control what controls her in the original story) has an inherent message that’s only as powerful as it is because the iconography of Snow White is so well known to Bashardoust’s audience. That’s why she can give us a handful of Snow White parallels and then leave out one of the biggest story points and still have us understand the commentary she’s making. The messages are built in; she doesn’t have to build them first in order to tear them down. They’re already there.

Because we know fairytales. Reference Cinderella’s slipper, Sleeping Beauty’s spindle, or Snow White’s glass coffin and you can easily call up a whole set of values, assumptions, and feelings with hardly another word. Our reservoir of shared stories (consider also the Greek myths) is essentially a resource for writers who want to make it obvious they’re subverting our cultural mores. It’s shorthand for “Society is fucked up, hold my beer and watch this”. It’s a way of making subtle commentary in an... obvious manner? It’s a unique way of balancing obvious and subtle; it’s the equivalent of roadsigns you only need to glance at to know that you’re driving towards; it’s an ocean of potential stories waiting to be overturned. The ability of writers to take any of these classic objects or situations and drop them into their stories and immediately add a whole slew of connected ideas is fascinating to me. It’s magical.

Which brings us to The Language of Thorns. The collection isn’t exactly labeled “retold/reimagined faiytales” anywhere (it’s a collection of stories that would be read to children in her Grishaverse), but Bardugo says in her author’s note, “That unease [with the ending of Hansel and Gretel] has guided me through these stories […] The more I listened to that note of warning, the more inspiration I found.” The stories indeed feature a retelling of Hansel and Gretel, a prequel to The Little Mermaid, and a reimagining of The Nutcracker.

In one of my gleeful posts as I read the book I ended up gushing that “by writing her own fairytales [Leigh Bardugo] gets to play with our expectations, because we get all the references to our own stories — gingerbread houses, labyrinths holding monsters, clever talking animals — so we have a false sense of security that we know where it’s all going, and then she treats the ending of the stories more like writing a novel and adds more complexity than we expect of stories like Cinderella or Hansel and Gretel” and yes I’m going to quote myself in my own essay-thing because I still think that was a good reaction.

The first story of the collection, Ayama and the Thornwood, makes Bardugo’s intentions clear when the main character literally retells three different tales with improved endings to satisfy the boredom of a beast who finds fairytales too predictable and unrealistic. So it’s, you know, meta.

There’s an excitement there, in reading the fairytales you (sort of) know with their seams torn open to make room for you, stitched into something new. In Bardugo’s stories, the Grimm brothers’ female villains are reexamined, blame is shifted, new ideas are put forward (not all connected to feminism, but the treatment of Hansel and Gretel and The Little Mermaid’s villains, and the creation of a new female villain in Bardugo’s The Too-Clever Fox, make a clear argument about the roles women are given in our fairytales).

This is a nice connection to Girls Made of Snow and Glass: the deeper treatment of women’s motives that make familiar tales new. I’m almost disappointed The Language of Thorns didn’t include a Snow White story to compare and contrast with.

But let’s circle back to Lynet’s love interest in Girls Made of Snow: Nadia, the castle physician. It was the promise of a gay Snow White that drew me to the story, and it’s still a wonderful aspect of the book. Putting women into slots reserved for men is almost always a breath of fresh air, especially when the rest of the story isn’t then adjusted to keep it heterosexual. One reason is because it eliminates the “man always saving the woman” aspect by making it one woman saving another — consider Nadia filling the prince’s role in awakening Lynet from her coffin, and the female river spirit of Little Knife winning the hand in marriage of the beautiful girl. But of course the major reason is getting to see non-heterosexual people in fairytales.

We don’t get this when we’re younger. At least, I didn’t, though I hope that starts changing for kids now. So to read stories where the women love women, where men can love men and women (to reference The Language of Thorns specifically, since we get a bisexual protagonist in one story and a wlw couple in another) feels like — to quote a certain musical — putting ourselves back in the narrative. I can’t change the stories I was read when I was little, but I can (we all can) read the stories that are slowly but surely filling up goodreads’ “lgbt retellings” shelves.

(Possibly it’s weird to use the phrase “putting ourselves back in the narrative” when I’m actually not sure about either author’s sexuality, but this is mostly about the perception of queer readers getting queer retellings anyway. If I read Julia Heslin’s Once more recently I would have loved to add something about her version of reimagining queer fairytales but it’s been a bit too long for it to be fresh in my mind.)

“I put myself back in the narrative” isn’t a flawless parallel for other reasons as well. After all, the whole point about “Eliza and the narrative” is that she took herself out of it in the first place, and then put herself back in. The first action was as much an act of power as the undoing, and queer people never took ourselves out of fairytales in the first place (I don’t think that’s really a thing that happened, anyway). But I couldn’t get that line out of my head as I thought about this, so it seems like the right way to end this ramble.

When we put ourselves back in our narratives, when we tell our touchstone stories with us included, it’s automatically a powerful statement that we belong there. So yes, while this has mostly been me trying to figure out how to say “we all recognize fairytale elements at such an essential level that it gives authors an amazing tool to work with to make their works more nuanced and gives them a basis to build social commentary on”, I want to end this with the point that works created with these tools, narratives constructed on these foundations, are so liberating and important and wonderful because they not only make use of our childhood tales but tell us we belong there.

[shiningrey]

thoughts on tlj

so its no secret that im not the biggest fan of riad johnstones fucking flaming mess of a movie. and i think finally, after a slew of smaller rants, i’m finally emotionally stable enough to summarise how i feel about tlj as a whole star wars movie; my views on which can be summarised in a quote from this awesome review; ‘the impersonal nature of star wars is starting to give me the creeps’ (and fuck how it is). through its awkward dialogue (and awkward delivery), odd and jarring self depreciating comedy, broad mischaracterisation, sweeping commercialisation, unnecessary subplots and resulting laborious run time, and overall complete lack of any creative, visual, narrative and underlying thematic originality and flair that defined the original trilogy, this blunderous commercial failed to resonate with a large percentage of audiences (myself included). hating this movie the way that i do has made me unbearably upset, just really fucking sad, because i love star wars, i love its characters and creative originality, its unique flavour. tlj has kind of just left this behind completely. and trust me, we’re allowed to critique this film because when one is given all the materials to make a star wars movie (namely $200 million), there is little excuse for producing something that is anything less than incredible, plot holes and flaws become inexcusable.

(cont under the cut, spoilers obv)

for general cohesion i’ll list my arguments in dot points (because if i write paragraphs i’ll just start getting sad again and ranting) - this mostly has to do with characters as opposed to broader narrative issues

➣ the complete disrespect and mischaracterisation of luke. his character integrity and development is sacrificed (and even regressed) purely for the purpose of rian johnson’s shitty marvel-esque humor. (which i talk about here) 

➣ THE HUMOR. oh my god, its absolutely strange, terrible and out of place. its self aware and self depreciating, completely ignoring the flavour of past star wars humor. (for example the alien tiddy scene, the poe and hux scene?) ‘A phrase often repeated in reviews is that the movie is self aware, and they’re applauding that as though it is a new benchmark in intelligent filmmaking. For me this isn’t the venue for that. The constant winking to the audience is not boldness, but a lack of confidence in the material. It was hyper colloquial, trying to be hip’ x. this is a good example too

➣ finn & rose’s entire subplot was a literal sidelining of poc characters, the narrative of which ultimately culminates to.. absolutely nothing? they add maybe 40 minutes to the run time but contribute absolutely fucking nothing to the plot. the story seemed to target the audiences ‘feels’ but seemed strangely devoid of emotion (explained well here), and sadly i think the romance felt forced (despite this i think kelly and john did an awesome job and i love them both)

➣ REY is completely shunted into just another character in kylos redemption arc, which feels like such huge disrespect to a character that i love and look up to, my thoughts on this summarised in this awesome post. (and kylo mostly sulks for the majority of the film? i literally cant take him seriously as a villain anymore, and this) 

➣ snoke was just killed off? we learned absolutely nothing of what ‘it’ is, character background & motivations, why is it so powerful with the force etc. such a waste. same arguments can be made for phasma.

➣ hux, who is established as what could possibly be a genuinely threatening, and interesting character in tfa, is immediately shunted into a comedic role, literally just there to diffuse the tension (the tension being a huge part of what makes these films fun to watch). this is one of the most obvious examples of jj’s hard work on tfa going to waste, a whole character is now absolute trash. i mean watching this (hux’s speech) it becomes so evident that rian has squandered his potential (and domnhall is an amazing actor as well so like yeah...what a fucking waste)

➣ the dialgoue.. the characters bark out their inner monologues and motivations like they’re hosting TED talks on mindfulness, infusing the film with this awful emotional sterility. And heaps of the lines feel strangely out of place in a star wars film? for example when poe says ‘i’ll hold’? and when they refer to the jedi order as a ‘religion’, which seems openly sloppy as i don’t think this is done in any other star wars film?

➣ leia (my favourite star wars character of all time) spent most of the film silent.... Awesome. (AND WHEN SHE FLIES THROUGH SPACE.. DEADASS I CANT!! but like humor aside didn’t she renounce the use of the force because of her fathers misuse? hm). her dialogue was just bad and her very minor slice of screen time left me feeling pretty fucking disappointed, she seems to now be reduced to just ‘kylos mother, lukes sister’, which sucks more than i can describe, carrie deserved more respect.

➣ and i mean.. the blatant attempts to create merch for disney (it seems to have rightly backfired), at least wookies had a place in the narrative

➣ rian’s plot seemed really formulaic but somehow still in a clunky and strange way, just really lacking in any creativity. (for example on crait when poe says ‘theres only one way in and out’, but not 5 seconds later they’re shown a ‘secret’ exit, this just seems lazy)

➣ the casual destruction of what were probably hundreds of rebellion lives, picking off the ships one by one toward the climax of the narrtive? i mean an argument can be made that this was necessary to the plot (i don’t make this argument at all), but regardless it sat wrong with me that this blasé mass murder was brushed over. we feel nothing for these hundreds of dead characters? this seems really really wrong - the complete opposite of what Rogue One was trying to accomplish

➣ the beauty of the CGI visuals often felt patronising. like i was meant to sit there and mindlessly go ‘oooh’. whilst i was appreciative of the CGI during certain moments, generally i just felt it didn’t really excuse the empty plot and characters. 

➣ even more minor things, where was the ‘i have a bad feeling about this’. did rian even watch the other movies????? for a movie thats referred to as pure fan service, it sure does a poor job at servicing fans

so all these things culminated to create a super bland, flattened, sterile and commercial star wars movie, with no actual creative vision (besides some admittedly beautiful visuals), disney has failed to create a star wars movie. even jar jar binks was, for better or worse, a bold creation, nobody could say he was a rehash of pre-existing characters, and tlj lacks this quality utterly and completely. in trying to both adhere to the structure of previous films, whilst also being ‘different’, it loses its sense of cohesion entirely. not to mention this movie is completely out of sync with tfa, besides basic plot points it seems to have no continuity whatsoever. all of jj’s beautiful work on tfa characters and dialogue, has gone to waste. i look forward to him salvaging the burning scraps of this trilogy.

maybe i am reading into this too much, maybe i am critiquing for no good reason, and the reviews would certainly suggest that. but this movie has really upset me, not only in concern for star wars, but for the wider film industry, the business of blockbusters, sequels and ‘subtle’ commercialism. the future, it seems, does not look bright. 

[lokgifsandmusings]

Definitive Ranking of Book 1 Episodes, #12/12

12. 1x12 Endgame

Amon stands and lets Korra expose him for drama, Asami and Hiroshi are just like Kevin Bacon, let’s hide in an empty room from the bloodbender, people weren’t all that into justice anyway, and Aang brings the funk.

What? It hasn’t been over 4 months since I last did one of these...get out of here!

For those who don’t know, I’ve been going back and rewatching each LoK episode, then definitively ranking the entire season with a series of metas, starting from “worst” to “best.” Wait, no quotes because it’s DEFINITIVE.

I began with the beautiful, heart stopping, breathtaking, life-changing shitshow that was Book 2, because its flaws in some ways became the show’s greatest strength, so it felt very worth the dive. Then I went to Book 4 probably because that’s the time period that interests me a ton, and it was a solid season, but one that sort of felt like it needed some polish. Book 3 is damn near perfect in my opinion, and the one I want to end on for that reason.

So yup, we’re in Book 1! And here’s the thing: rewatching this show, the first season is the one that gives you the least back. It’s not particularly deep or nuanced. And that’s fine! It did a good job expanding the world building, the aesthetics were beyond on-point, and I’ll stand by the characterizations as pretty dang compelling, even if Mako never landed for me until Book 3.

At the same time, had this been the one season mini-series it almost was...I just don’t see still talking about it. And yes, I say that knowing the end game (you see what I did there?) would have been a bit different. But it doesn’t really change that the greatest success of Book 1 was its set up and potential. So, I guess it’s not a shock that the episode at the bottom of this list is its finale. Which is best depicted here:

Yeah, it sounds harsh for something that was ~fine~, but each time I rewatch it, it gets even less fine. However, there’s also been a lot on this already. If you haven’t already, read @got-your-back-always-will’s piece on why it was so damn disappointing. Or you could read my words where I call it a narrative beer fart (I think I use this term a lot, to be fair), point out the leaps in logic and reasonable action necessary for it everything to occur, and then talk about kind of shitty, sexist, ableist implications. Hell, even my photo recap touches on this.

Yes, it was all unintentional, but just imagine a character as intersectional as Korra being sent off with her depression having been magically healed by a male character (yes I know Aang is her, but imagery matters and she was passively sitting while he did his thing) and then hooking up with the guy who treated another woman as something stuck to his shoe.

And I mean, add to that the way the main plotline just FIZZLED. Oh man, people aren’t oppressed anymore because the guy who wanted to help them was actually a bender? WHAT. Everything Amon and the Equalists were set-up to be, and it just ends with a crowd shrugging and looking sad.

Like...this ending isn’t the worst thing that’s been on TV. It’s just formulaic and feels not well-planned, which is kind of weird because wasn’t this the only season that *had* been fully scripted? I really don’t want to pile on as if it’s the most toxic thing ever (not by a long shot), but would this have actually been satisfying to anyone?

I feel like I’m going to just end repeating myself, and I really don’t want to pile on. So instead, I think it’s important to zoom out and look at what the season was supposed to be accomplishing as a whole.

Korra is the opposite of Aang. Not in a moral sense, but in the sense that Bryke’s process in creating her was literally, “instead of a spiritual, not-super-physical, reluctant male hero who was not happy about his role, what if we had a girl who was super into it, non-spiritual, and kind of a hockey-kid type?”. They talk about this on podcasts and stuff. Aang’s narrative was about how he needed to embrace his role since the world needed him. We’ve seen this before (though Aang and ATLA was very unique, don’t get me wrong) with stories like Harry Potter, or LOTR, or the Star Wars OT, and so on.

That kind of arc is sort of best summed up by this quote from our pal Dumbledore:

“It is a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well.”

But when you have a character that WANTS to be the hero, what do you do? You write a world that doesn’t want *them*. You write a struggle in their quest to find a place for themselves when the role they’re so ready to take on doesn’t really make sense anymore.

This is the point of the Equalists. Benders are the privileged minority, extorting the oppressed masses in the nonbenders. The Avatar in some ways represents the ultimate bender (with her inherent abilities), and is now in a world skeptical, scared, and teaming for revolution.

Specifically against her and her power structure. There’s the spiritual aspect to her role, but she was out-of-touch with it in the first season, while also facing a very here-and-now kind of problem.

The conclusion that Korra needed to reach as a character, and where she gets at the end of Book 2 actually (and then spends Books 3 and 4 fine-tuning that role while also going through a very powerful healing arc) is one where she stakes her OWN claim in the world. She defines her role in a way that’s significant to her and the meaning in her heroism comes from her assertion of that agency, and the way she basically screams for her right to exist into being. The world will find it *does* need her, and here’s why, damnit.

Book 1 didn’t get there at all. Fuck, it didn’t even address things like how Korra’s actions out of bravado were because of her horrible fear of appearing weak. That fear...it’s only something she got over after her healing arc, when she learned that being afraid isn’t a weakness, and she can recontextualize that fear and find a kind of strength in it. Now, it’s possible that whenever it was decided that Book 1 would be 1 of 4 seasons, they made sure to keep room for Korra’s character growth. Except...in 2x01 she’s rather backdialed, so it’s a difficult case to make.

Then, remember how her solution had been (more or less) to punch things? Which is why @projectvoicebend has been referred to as “biting satire” thanks to their exaggerated depiction of that? But in Endgame, she literally saves the day with brute force. Not that Amon *shouldn’t* have been knocked out of a window, but this is rather bizarre messaging.

She unlocked airbending in a time of desperation, and used it aggressively to get rid of the threat. Like...okay. But, we didn’t need to see an entire season to buy this kind of thing happening. Hell, if she had been de-bended in 1x04 and someone else was threatened, I could still see this happening.

Was the implication that it’s the power of love? Had it been Bolin or Tenzin there, just sucks for them? I kind of find that hard to swallow, too. Really, they just needed Amon to be unmasked, and this is the way they contrived Korra to do it. It wasn’t exactly a huge character moment as much as it was leveling up in a video game.

Now, I do think overall it’s good that Korra didn’t find a place for herself in the world at the end of the first season. That was hard-earned, and even creating the new spiritual age wasn’t the endpoint of that theme since people were resistant to change—of losing control. However, could there have at least been an indication that REFORM WAS GOING TO HAPPEN? Yeah, the revolutionaries aren’t exactly blameless here seeing as they bombed an entire city, but Endgame literally reset the tensions in Republic City. Well, until Shiro recapped the creation of an entire democracy for us in 2 sentences.

It was like...the set box that Bryke had created at the beginning of the season needed to stay perfectly intact. And it wasn’t organic at all for Korra to be the person upholding that, because she is inherently such a transgressive character. This is why I’ve called it a round peg in a square hole, and this is why had *that* been the ending to the series, my own reaction would have been as dejected as the people who realized Amon painted a scar on his face.

Hell, what does this even mean on a thematic level? Desperation breeds education? Never idolize anyone who promises simple solutions to your problems? Reincarnation has its uses if you’re in enough pain?

Really, this show is supposed to be about Korra’s growth and trajectory, and...I just am struggling to see much of anything here.

Frankly, it gets worse the longer I think about it too. Equalists are like, bad and junk. Bombing cities and brutalizing your enemies (while evoking genocidal language with that whole ‘impurity’ thing) is not good, mmkay? But from another entirely valid angle, isn’t part of what Amon stood for really about disarmament? Should they have been so cartoonishly evhul that they suddenly needed to de-bend the pacifistic airbender children?

The only thing that kind of worked in this plotline was Asami and Hiroshi. And yeah, I know I’m the ultimate Asami fangirl so it’s going to read biased, but I’m serious: she was the only nonbender we really heard from about this. She was the one who had the same pain that her father had (her mother’s death at the hands of bending gangs), and experienced the same type of oppression he did, and still resoundly rejected violence. I’m not sure what she saw as a pathway to reform, but she could tell that Hiroshi’s actions weren’t coming from a place of empathy any longer, even if it might have begun like that.

Rewatching everything today when nazi punching discourse is disturbingly not theoretical, there is something a little frustrating about how simplified even this conflict was made. I’m not saying the Equalists are fascists at all, but can we at least try and position ourselves in the nonbender perspective, when there’s a lot of valid grievances, and Amon is just doing exactly what Aang did to Yakone (initially, back when he was targeting just triad members)? That’s worth a conversation! Sure, we got Asami standing up to Tarrlok in 1x08, sure, but her drive to take down her father was so clearly personal thanks to the years of deception, that the nonbender oppression sort of got swallowed in it all.

I still think it worked better than anything else, especially how Asami was not able to bring herself to harm her father the way he was willing to do. It’s tragic, and I don’t even begrudge Bolin swooping in for the save for that reason, even though the whole passive-woman/active-man thing is what I’m bitching about for Korra. But it’s different. Right?

I also found Tarrlok and Amon’s ending perfectly fine (and VERY jarring for a Y7 show) given that it was another exploration into abuse, the cycle of violence, and a kind of poetic self-fulfilling prophecy. But that’s more for 1x11.

God, you know what it is? Bryke never figured out what they wanted to say with Book 1. They had great worldbuilding ideas, and the tensions set up were quite compelling. It just lacked a *point* beyond “this might be cool to explore.” It was, and then the time came to tie it up, so it splatted.

In the end, they’re just damn lucky that Korra had something to say of her own.

Book 2 ranking/essays found here

Book 4 ranking/essays found here