#original divine principle

[whatisonthemoon]

Did Hak Ja Han Have A Marriage Ceremony With Jesus Christ Or Is She His Concubine?

Hak Ja Han claims under oath in her deposition in the court case between The Holy Spirit Association for the Unification of World Christianity and Hyung Jin Moon / Sanctuary Church that she as the Only Begotten Daughter of God and Jesus as the Only Begotten Son of God are the True Parents of humankind. Both Hak Ja Han and Jesus were born without original sin but Sun Myung Moon was born with original sin. Sun Myung Moon as a proxy for Jesus Christ failed in his mission and is completely irrelevant in God’s Providence. It is Hak Ja Han who established Cheon Il Guk, the Kingdom of God on Earth on the Foundation Day February 13th, 2013.

In the light of this official theological declaration of Hak Ja Han there are many questions which she must answer: 1) Did Hak Ja Han have an official marriage ceremony with Jesus Christ and when and where did the ceremony take place? Who were present at the marriage ceremony as witnesses? 2) Jesus was already married to Chung-soon Chang, one of the Six Marys of Sun Myung Moon. They were married by Sun Myung Moon at the beginning of the 1970s. Did Hak Ja Han divorce Chung-soon Chang and Jesus? How did Jesus react to his divorce? 3) The Original Divine Principle from 1952 claims that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene and they probably had children. Did Hak Ja Han divorce Jesus from Mary Magdalene, too? So Jesus already had a wife Mary Magdalene and a second wife or a concubine Chung-soon Chang. What is Hak Ja Han’s position in this marriage triangle?

https://www.tparents.org/Moon-Talks/HyungJinMoon-22/HyungJinMoon-220802.pdf

[brother-hermes]

GODS LIKENESS: OUR DIVINE IMAGE

Literalism would have us believe we are created in the image of a Sky Daddy looking over us from beyond the clouds. However, Moshe was anything but a literalist. He was an initiate trained in all the wisdom of Kemet. So in this episode lets go deeper into the mysteries and discuss how image and likeness tie into our concept of polarity.

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Five of the Many Ways in Which the Principle View of the Fall Is Nonsensical

The Divine Principle explanation for the fall is not just wrong, but is entirely nonsensical.

1. The Principle interpretation is biblically nonsensical. When God gives the commandment to be fruitful we must assume that God knows the meaning of the words he is using. From a botanical standpoint, an organism can only be fruitful after sexual reproduction has taken place. If God were to use the phrase “be fruitful” in the context of a commandment to not have sex until after attaining perfection then God would be demonstrating a fundamental ignorance of basic botany.

Eve says the Tree of Knowledge is “in the middle of the garden.” If she herself were the tree, why would she speak of the tree as being located in the middle of the garden?

Divine Principle says that Lucifer seduced Eve and Eve then seduced Adam. However, the Bible says (Gen 3:6) that Adam was with Eve at the time she first tasted the fruit. Adam then tasted the fruit immediately afterwards. This makes nonsense of the Principle’s claim that Eve repented after “eating the fruit” with Lucifer and then later had sex with Adam from a desire to return to her original place.

2. The Principle interpretation is historically nonsensical. Even if the Divine Principle account were a solid interpretation of the Genesis story the latter would still be only a story and not an actual historical event. Let’s look at the two explanations that Unificationists give of how the story came to be: 1) it is an ancient oral tradition that has been passed down from Adam and Eve’s family; 2) it is a revelation received directly from God at a later date.

It is impossible for an ancient oral tradition to have been preserved from the time of Adam and Eve for the simple reason that any original ancestors would have had to have lived at least 125,000 years ago, and probably over 400,000 years ago. We know that because control of fire by early humans was already prevalent 125,000 years ago and seems to have existed for several hundred thousand years before that. Control of fire is not something that animals are capable of, not even the most intelligent animals. In fact even today most educated people would not be able to successfully create and control fire if they were dropped alone into a remote wilderness. Could you? Unless you have been in the armed forces, or at least the Scouts, you probably could not. The control of fire is a complex set of behaviors that has to be learned. If there were such a thing as the human spirit then it would have to go back at least to the time when humans first learned to control fire. Can you imagine an oral history remaining intact for 125,000 years in the absence of any sort of writing? It is preposterous. And then, who decided to pass it on in a symbolic form? Perhaps Adam and Eve decided that the whole tale was too shameful to be explained clearly and yet realized that it would some day be needed by Divine Principle lecturers and so they cleverly disguised it with symbols. Not likely is it?

Neither is the Genesis account a revelation. If God were going to give the Divine Principle story by revelation in symbolic form he would surely get the order of events correct, make the symbols clear, and not mistakes about basic botany that could be spotted by an intelligent ten year old. And why would God talk about himself walking in the garden as if he were a human? Moreover, according to the documentary hypothesis (look that up!), Bible scholars have found that the Genesis story was not originally a single story but two, three, or more earlier stories that have been somewhat haphazardly edited together. This is why, for instance, Genesis repeats the story of creation of man in Genesis 1: 26-28 and then in Genesis 2: 5. Notice how there are no plants in Genesis 2: 5 despite the fact that God has already created them in Genesis 1: 11. Why would God give mutually contradictory revelations and then leave it to a tribe of uneducated ancient Israelites to create a coherent narrative out of the parts?

3. The Principle interpretation is nonsense from the standpoint of science. There are literally millions of pieces of evidence that creatures evolved gradually over hundreds of millions of years. Why all the dinosaur bones? There never were such people as Adam and Eve. That is a fact, not an opinion.

Would it make any sense for God to create all the different life forms by evolution and then cap it off by creating Adam and Eve as special creations? Why not use special creation for all the animals if that were the case? But let’s say that God did use special creation for humans only, then why did he also create so many transitional forms between the ape and man? Why Australopithecus? Why the Neanderthals? Why the Denisovans? Why would God create humans as special creations and then leave a long trail of evidence to make it seem as if they had evolved? And if God was just practicing when he made the earlier hominins, as some Divine Principle lecturers say, then why does Unification Thought declare that God already had the perfect image of Adam and Eve in mind before he began the creation?

Then there is this whole problem of angels. How exactly did they help God create the world? What do they do today? Do they help the True Children with their homework? Have you ever seen one? How do they get on with the pixies and the fairies? Why do spiritualists disagree on basic facts such as what sex the angels are and whether or not they really have wings? Are you so sure about these angels?

4. The Principle interpretation is nonsense from the standpoint of psychology. Would you make the whole success of your global master plan contingent on the ability of a sixteen-year-old girl to outsmart the brilliant archangel who co-created the universe? That’s what the Divine Principle God, Hananim, did.

Apparently, Hananim didn’t think through the relationships he was setting up at all carefully, and he didn’t even have any back-up plan. He just figured that he could leave a really hot teen-age girl alone with a very lonely male caretaker, who had no other sexual or romantic outlet, and that nothing could possibly go wrong. Even the worst parents in today’s world tend to be at least a little bit careful whom they leave their children with. But not Hananim, apparently. Not only did Hananim skip Botany but he flunked Common Sense 101 too.

Remember, all Eve had to go with was the commandment. The punishment for failure was the creation of hell, plus tens of thousands of years of suffering for the whole human race. And yet Divine Principle mocks Christians for saying that God threatened his children with death. The punishment in Divine Principle is far worse than the mere death of an individual. By its own standards, doesn’t the Principle deserve far greater mockery?

5. The Principle interpretation is nonsense from the standpoint of theology. The glaring problem here is that it does not explain how sin comes into the world or how it is passed from generation to generation. In the Unification Church there are as many different explanations for how sin is transmitted as there are members who are willing to venture a suggestion. Some people think sin is passed on socially. Others think it has something to do with the sung sang of the blood. Some think it is more of a legal predicament resulting from Satan’s claim over humankind – a bit like if you accidentally sign up with AOL and then find it impossible to cancel your membership. And then there are those who think it is connected with being deprived of the life element from God. Moon was never able to clearly explain it in spite of having over sixty years and tens of thousands of hours of sermonizing during which to do so. He left it up to the members because he didn’t actually have an answer. It’s like a criminal who gives a different account of his actions every time he is questioned; then, when he is put up for trial and asked which version is the truth, he shrugs his shoulders and suggests that the jury pick whichever story they find most believable.

If sin is simply passed on socially then why do we need a wine ceremony (with those special ingredients!) to change the lineage? Why did infertile couples always have to adopt from other blessed couples? Why did we have a True Family? Why all that sex in the early days of the movement? Clearly the view that sin is merely passed on socially cannot be considered an orthodox Unificationist position.

The notion of sin as a legal predicament certainly has some roots in Christian theology, where Christ is our advocate and God is our judge, and where Christ takes our punishment upon himself. But sin cannot only be a legal formality. There is certainly an element of inner corruption, of falling short of the glory, of concupiscence, too. Take away the devil and all his works and we are still sinners, from a Christian standpoint. There must be more to it.

What about deprivation of the life element inhibiting our spiritual growth? That sort of leaves it up to God. We are like an engine that doesn’t have enough gas. Hananim has the gas but he won’t put enough in the tank, or he can’t because Satan won’t let him, or something. How do we get to the point where Hananim is going to allow us enough gas? We go to the blessing but our gas allowance remains the same as before; perhaps it goes down a little. If we can’t get the gas how can we be blamed for not going the extra miles?

Most Unificationists would deny that sin is a material thing like a disease that is passed down from generation to generation. They would reject the notion that we ought to be able to identify it substantially in the blood, even if we had a really good microscope. Some would say that sin is a collection of “evil elements” that stained Eve’s spirit in some way. But are fear and jealousy transferable from one object to another in the same way that energy is? Is there a conservation of depravity that works like the conservation of momentum? Perhaps we can imagine ways that these emotions could have been transferred between individuals, but how do they then get into the “blood” and affect future generations?

I think the most common belief among Unificationists who even attempt to make sense of their own teachings is that sin is a corruption of some invisible inner essence (sung sang) of the blood, or the DNA — a spiritual condition that has a material effect in terms of our failure to unite mind and body. But, how did this come about? Can we really believe that it was somehow passed from Lucifer to Eve through his sperm, which was entirely spiritual, and then passed to Adam through Eve’s kisses or whatever, and then passed to the children through the blood? How did it go from the Luciferian sperm to the human blood? No answer. Perhaps we can think of a drop of ink spreading in a container of pure water. No, that is an analogy not an explanation. There is no real explanation, just a bunch of vague mumbo jumbo that every Divine Principle lecturer is free to make up as he goes along. Really, how does any of this work? What is the mechanism? It is not that the Unification Church has a poor explanation for sin: it has no explanation whatsoever. And yet its Messiah has already come and gone, and the removal of sin was supposed to be his main mission.

Graham C. Lester

______________________________________

see also:

Imagination Theology: The problem and the solution

Ten reasons why the atom is not a good role model for human couples

The Unification Church should follow the Anglican model

The Failure of Prayer

It is indeed official UC teaching that Jesus had sex with Mary Magdalene.

Ten differences between what the UC used to teach and what the church teaches today

Do you see it? Adam and Eve were husband and wife before the Fall, not brother and sister.

Moon taught that God did NOT create the angels in pairs – meaning that God broke one of his own “creation” laws

A Workable Plan to Fulfill the Three Blessings and Create an Ideal World

[finisnihil]

Zhongli is interesting to me because he’s very much an outlier among the other Archons.

All the Archons have some sort of “twin” except Zhongli. Ei and Makoto, Venti and the Nameless Bard, Nahida and Rukkadevata, and Furina and Focalors. One could argue Guizhong is his “twin” but I heavily disagree because the Archon “twin” is directly related to the identity of the Archon. Ei and Makoto were twins, Nahida was a new iteration of Rukkadevata, Focalors and Furina are the divine and the human sides of the same person, and Venti directly took on the identity of the Bard. Adding on, the “twin” usually dies. All this implies two possibilities. Zhongli either never had a “twin” or his “twin” was already rendered deceased long ago. Either way both of these imply he’s different from the others on a level we don’t know.

Next: his draconic motifs. His Exuvia form was a dragon (some translations I’ve seen Half-Dragon, Half-Qilin) and his character design is very heavily based in this draconic identity. Further still, no other Archon so far has this motif. They are associated WITH dragons sure, Venti and Dvalin, Nahida and Apep, Furina and Neuvillette, but no other Archon is depicted with both divine and draconic motifs. There’s theories about Zhongli being or related to the Geo Dragon Sovereign for a reason. In his ascension voicelines he comments on his power growing stronger which isn’t unusual that’s the point of them but the giving up of his Gnosis makes his odd because it almost seems like the removal of the Gnosis was suppressing an aspect of his power, possibly a draconic power. Even when his divine identity was mostly shed his draconic aspects remain.

Finally, the cubes. All the other Archons in their statues have a circle motif. Venti and Rukkadevata/Nahida old some sort of orb, Makoto/Ei has her circle behind her and Focalors/Furina holds a sword with circular designs. Zhongli, however, holds a cube. Not just any cube either, a cube that is reminiscent of the Heavenly Principles who kidnap the Traveler’s Sibling at the start of the game. Add to this Zhongli weird connections to Celestia/The Heavenly Principles, his weird motif with the sun and the whole sun chariot lore, his Archaic nature and unknown origins, it’s extremely odd.

Zhongli is one of my favorites because he definitely knows more than he’s able to tell and he’s so different in the pattern of the Archons. Anyways feel free to give thoughts, have a great day, mwah!

[taking-thyme]

🌅 Lucifer Deity Guide 🌅

Note: This is inspired by both my own experiences with Lucifer and the information I read on @scarletarosa's blog and her devotional guide to him. Please go read that one too!!

The divine rebel, Lucifer is the light of truth and divine wisdom; an ancient light which shines through the darkness, representing illumination. He is the driving force of innovation, liberation and transformation. According to Scarletarosa, who actively works with Lucifer and was told this by him, he was the first-born god of the Universe created by the supreme deity, the Source. He is so incredibly ancient and beautiful. Lilith was created to be his counterpart, the Queen of Heaven. However, Jehovah took the throne of heaven from Lucifer and cast him and his followers into hell. Most of them lost their connection to heaven and their energy became dark and intense. Jehovah claimed the throne of heaven and set himself up as the one true god, manipulating humans into betraying their original deities. Thus, Lucifer became the King of Hell and has been scorned by Christians for millenia. 

God of: Illumination, Light, Darkness, Change, Rebirth, Challenges, Innovation, Logic, Truth, Knowledge, Wisdom, Strategy, Persuasion, Revolution, Luxury, Pleasure, Freedom, The Arts and The Morning Star (“Morning Star” is another name for the planet Venus)

Symbols: Sigil of Lucifer, The Morning Star, Violins and Fiddles (instruments traditionally associated with him)

Plants and Trees: Rose, Belladonna, Mulberry, Patchouli, Myrrh, Min, Tobacco, Marigold, Lilies, Hyacinth, Sage

Crystals: Amethyst, Black Obsidian, Onyx, Garnet, Selenite, Rose Quartz

Animals: Black Animals in general, Dragons, Snakes, Owls, Eagles, Ravens, Crows, Rams, Foxes, Pigs,  Bats, Rats, Moths, Swans

Incense: Rose, Frankincense, Patchouli, Myrrh

Colors: Black, Red, Silver, Emerald Green, Gold

Tarot: The Devil

Planets: The Morning Star, Venus

Day: Monday and Friday

Consort: Lilith

Children: Naema, Aetherea and many others

How was he traditionally worshipped?

There is not much to say about how Lucifer was historically worshiped seeing as he wasn’t worshiped at all for a large chunk of human history. He seems to have been worked with in some capacity according to the Gesta Treverorum, written in 1231, which is where we first see the term Luciferian being used to refer to his worship. This was by a woman named Lucardis for a religious circle, who was said to lament to Lucifer in private and prayed to him. However, the term Luciferians was later applied to basically any groups Christians didn’t like and wanted to fight, as one might expect. However, the modern Luciferian movement also sheds light on how Lucifer is worshiped. For Luciferians, enlightenment is the ultimate goal. Their basic principles highlight truth, freedom of will and fulfilling one’s ultimate potential, and encourage the same in all of us. Traditional dogma is shunned because Luciferians believe that humans do not need deities or the threat of eternal punishment to know what is good and the right thing to do. All ideas are to be tested before being accepted, and even then one should remain critical because knowledge is fluid and ever-changing. Regardless of whether Luciferians view Lucifer as a deity or an archetype, he is a representation of ultimate illumination and exploration in the name of personal growth. 

Epithets

Phanes

The Morning Star

Light-bringer

The First-born

Prince of Darkness

Son of Morning

The Glory of Morning

Lord of the Lunar Sphere

The First Light

Offerings

Red Wine, Whiskey (especially Jack Daniels), Champagne, Pomegranate Juice, Black Tea (especially earl grey), Chocolate (especially dark chocolate), Cooked Goat Meat, Venison, Apples, Pomegranates, Honey, Good Quality Cigars, Tobacco, Daggers and Swords, Silver Rings, Emeralds and Emerald Jewelry, Goat Horns, Black Feathers, Seductive Colognes, Red Roses, Dead Roses, Crow Skulls, Bone Dice, Devotional Poetry and Artwork, Classical Music (especially violin)

Devotional Acts

Acts of self-improvement, spiritual awakening and evolution, knowledge-seeking and dedication to spirituality ; Shadow Work ; Working to overcome your ego to become wiser ; Defending those in need ; Working to better yourself without being too self critical ; Fighting against tyranny and bigotry whenever you encounter it

Altar Decorations

Black or Red Candles, Snake and Dragon Figurines, His sigil, Roses, Fancy Chess Boards and Playing Cards, Silver Jewlery and ornaments, Black feathers, Goat horns

Appearance

For me Lucifer usually appears as a tall light-skinned man with long fiery red hair (so red it looks like it’s been dyed), a sophisticated face with a killer jawline, passionate eyes and dressed in a fancy black suit. From all my experiences with him and what I’ve heard from other followers, it seems Lucifer and most demons dress in full suits and tuxedos. 

Personality

Lucifer is nothing if not charming. He’s a protector first and foremost - one that always works to help you better yourself, but a protector nonetheless. He feels like a protective older brother taking care of you while your parents are away. He is a very complex entity, deeply wise and eloquent. He is more serious than one might expect for a demon given their popular depictions in our culture as chaotic forces of evil, but Lucifer is full of courage and love. I often feel him with me even when I’m not doing things related to him. He is proud of his follower’s accomplishments and congratulates them on a job well done, though he also reminds them that the job is never truly over. Growth is constant. Lucifer is the epitome of growth, blunt and gentle at the same time, telling you what you need to do and giving you space to figure out how to do it. 

Lucifer values resilience, the pursuit of self-betterment, intellectualism, courage, open-mindedness and responsibility in individuals and wants to see his followers develop these qualities. He is constantly rooting for you to reach your full potential. He won’t hold your hand the entire way, but he will help you take steps in the right direction. Lucifer, like all deities, is different for everyone and will adjust his approach depending on your needs.

^ The Sigil of Lucifer

[goblinsandgods]

Im just thinking about how Kipperlily manufactured her own villainous origin story by getting her most loyal friend murdered and cursed as a result of her own greed for public acknowledgment and power.

Kipperlily blamed the system for her own mediocrity. She saw her peers succeed against the odds - and came to the delusional conclusion that the injustice they survived was actually a stepping stone to greatness that she didn’t get.

She wanted what they had - perceived success and accolades. But instead of seeking out opportunities for her to showcase her own skills- she decided to try and bring others down to her level by cutting them off at the knees.

So she schemed to find loopholes in the rules to make the system bias in her favor. She believed she was right and had no interest in looking for information that could prove her wrong. Because she didn’t want fairness, she wanted success.

She decided that it was unfair that her peers suffered injustice- not because they were kids who deserved better but because she felt that they were getting something special she didn’t have. Clearly a shortsighted, childish jealousy but the stupidity of it all doesn’t make the hatred less genuine or dangerous.

In contrast: Lucy Frostblade was defined by her loyalty - loyalty to her divinity, loyalty to her increasingly unhinged friend, and loyalty to her own principles.

Lucy was the one person who backed up Kipperlily’s choices, mainly as a show of support for her suffering friend. And in return Kipperlily let her friend get brutally murdered (or possibly murdered Lucy herself).

Because in the end Kipperlily was only loyal to herself and her interests. And Lucy refused to abandon her principles and her goddess in the name of her friend's greed.

[ossifer-bones]

On the Mechanics of Lyctorhood

I want to preface this by saying this is a long, long post that is going to delve deep into lyctorhood, skim the surface of physics and biology, and fully embrace conjecture! If I'm right about all this then I'm very happy, but I also cannot wait to be disproven in Alecto the Ninth.

Thanergy

Thanergy is the product of the decay of thalergy: this is the principle that underpins all of necromancy. All necromantic adepts are capable of manipulating both thalergy and thanergy, but necromancy is shown to be reliant on thanergy specifically, and is most geared toward utilising thanergy as a result.

“Thalergetic decay causes cellular death,” you said carefully, pressing the nail in harder, “which emits thanergy. The massive cell death that follows apopneumatism causes a thanergetic cascade, though the first bloom fades and the thanergy stabilises within thirty to sixty seconds.” [Harrow the Ninth]

As shown by @pokkop15 in this post the term thanergy is almost certainly derived from Thanatos, the Greek God of Death, but thalergy's origins are more murky: likely candidates are thaleros (a greek word that means lively), Thalia (the muse of Festivity whose name also means blooming), or Thalassa (divine personification of the sea in greek mythology, which would fit considering how life is very associated with saltwater in TLT).

The Eightfold Word: What is Lyctorhood?

According to the resident tall glass of skank and questionably reliable narrator, Ianthe Tridentarius, the Eightfold Word is composed of the following steps:

Preserve the soul, with memory and intellect intact.

Analyse it—understand its structure, its shape.

Remove and absorb it: take it into yourself without consuming it in the process.

Fix it in place so it can’t deteriorate.

Incorporate it: find a way to make the soul part of yourself without being overwhelmed.

Consume the flesh [NOTE: Ianthe says 'a drop of blood is enough to ground you', which to me indicates that this step serves as a way to ground the incorporated soul into the lyctor's body, by having material from the soul's original body. This is very significant.]

Reconstruction—making spirit and flesh work together the way they used to, in the new body.

Hook up the cables and get the power flowing.

Lyctorhood seemingly works by providing the necromancer with, among other things, a near limitless reserve of thanergy that is presumably derived from the incorporated soul once the power is flowing: as we see with Cytherea healing herself, lyctors are either unable to generate thalergy—or their ability to do so is lessened in comparison to their ability to generate thanergy—and must instead siphon it from external sources when their own thalergy is depleted.

In Nona the Ninth we are introduced to Palamedes' conception of Lyctorhood in terms of Lysis: the Lyctorhood we are most familiar with is Petty Lysis, where only one of the components dies, while Grand Lysis is a mutual death—a gravitational singularity creating something new, as is the case with Paul. Lysis is a term used in biology that refers to 'the breaking down of the membrane of a cell', which as I've explored before

In the series, Lyctorhood is spoken of in terms of fire: there are repeated references to Gideon's soul being made the furnace of [Harrow's] Lyctorhood and serving as a furnace of power, Mercymorn refers to her cavalier's mortal soul burning in her chest, John says that the risk posed by fully incorporating Alecto into himself completely would be that he'd probably burn to death, and Paul's birth results in Camilla's body being consumed by flames. This leads us on to how lyctorhood is also characterised as consumption: eating the cavalier, absorbing their soul, burning it for fuel.

What is the mechanism behind the thanergetic generation of lyctorhood?

Lyctorhood is barbaric, it is cannibalism, it is taking another and burning them in yourself for power. But that raises the question of where that power comes from. By the way that thalergy/thanergy are spoken of with terms reminiscent of radiation, coupled with how lyctorhood is rendered through metaphors and imagery related to fire and/or consumption, it would seem that the logical conclusion behind this is that the soul is being subject to continual thanergetic fission.

The terminology Tamsyn uses is something that lends credence to this: nuclear fission 'occurs when a neutron slams into a larger atom, forcing it to excite and split into two smaller atoms—also known as fission products'. Sudden, sharp decay/conversion of thalergy into thanergy could be the mechanism behind thanergetic fission, as we see with Harrow's description of apopneumatic shock and how the burst of thanergetic energy (a neutron slamming into a larger atom, forcing it to excite) is sufficient to prevent liminal osmosis from taking place: "In cases of apopneumatic shock, where death is sudden and violent, the energy burst can be sufficient to countermand osmotic pressure and leave the soul temporarily isolated."

But from what we know of the nature of the thanergy, thalergy, and the soul, this explanation makes no sense. Thanergy is emitted by thalergy decay, but souls in of themselves are not a source of thalergy nor thanergy, as shown by Anastasia's tripod principle: “The body needs thalergy and a soul to keep the lights on. Anastasia’s tripod principle. Body plus thalergy, but no soul, is basically a very weird vegetable … after a while it gives up and shuts down.” [Nona the Ninth]

Going back to the nuclear terminology, I'm going to cut straight to the core of this theory: the mechanism behind the thanergetic generation of lyctorhood is thanergetic fusion.

What is thanergetic fusion?

The term I use here is a misnomer, because a more accurate term would be pneumatic fusion, considering how Tamsyn Muir is fond of using the Greek pneuma to refer to the soul: nuclear fusion 'is a reaction in which two or more atomic nuclei combine to form one or more different atomic nuclei and subatomic particles'.

A nucleus in physics is 'the positively charged central core of an atom, consisting of protons and neutrons and containing nearly all its mass', while in biology the term refers to 'a dense organelle present in most eukaryotic cells, typically a single rounded structure bounded by a double membrane, containing the genetic material'. Palamedes uses the term lysis for Lyctorhood, which as you'll recall refers to the disintegration of the cell membrane, thus exposing it's innards: such as the nucleus. The soul is the nucleus.

Nuclear fusion involves combining two or more atomic nuclei to form one or more different atomic nuclei and subatomic particles: the difference in mass between the reactants and products is manifested as either the release or absorption of energy; as a rule of thumb the fusion of lighter nuclei releases energy, making it an exothermic process, while the fusion of heavier nuclei results in energy being retained by the product nucleons, and thus the resulting reaction is endothermic. An exothermic reactions releases heat, causing the temperature of the immediate surroundings to rise, while an endothermic one absorbs heat and cools the surroundings.

In the context of this nuclear fusion explanation of Lyctorhood, an exothermic (exothanergetic) reaction releases thanergy while an endothermic (endothanergetic) reaction absorbs thanergy: the fusion of lighter souls release thanergy, the fusion of heavier souls absorbs it.

What are the implications behind these mechanics?

The question that comes to mind is what is a heavier soul? The answer, once again, lies in physics: "The heaviest atomic nuclei are created in nuclear reactions that combine two other nuclei of unequal size into one; roughly, the more unequal the two nuclei in terms of mass, the greater the possibility that the two react." [Wikipedia]

How does John explain the soul of a planet to Harrow?

John: “And what has a soul?” Harrow: “Anything with a thalergetic complexity significant enough to … have a soul. So, humanity.” [...] Harrow: “A planet’s a ball of dust. Its thalergy comes from the accumulation of microbial life. You can’t consider it one coherent system.” John: “Call it a communal soul. What’s a human being, other than a sack of microbial life?

Planets' souls are communal, formed from the thalergetic complexity of an entire world coalescing into a nuclei that lies at its heart, heavy in a way a human soul is not: a human soul is light, a planet's soul is heavy. In other words, Alecto is a heavy nuclei and John is a light nuclei, with the resultant nuclei of their combination forming something heavier than either: an endothanergetic reaction.

Moving back to thanergetic fission and the apopneumatic shock of a violent death, we can now examine what happens when John becomes God:

He becomes aware of Alecto when Cristabel kills herself in front of him.

Now aware of Alecto, he creates a massive flood of thanergy by inciting the violent deaths of millions, possibly billions, through the detonation of nuclear devices.

Empowered by the mass thanergetic fission caused by an untold number of apopneumatic shocks, 'I became a demigod', he finishes off the rest.

He kills Alecto, takes her soul in his hands, and attempts to become one with her.

He almost fails, and during this flawed process is forced to split her soul between his body and another, hiding himself in her and herself in him.

Fusion still occurs, this reaction is endothanergetic and allows him to near absorb a massive amount of thanergy in one sitting: "And when we were together … once the shaman had claimed the sun … I became God."

He violently kills the rest of the planets in the system, flipping them and creating a surplus of thanergy, a process of large-scale energy creation and transferall: to quote Ianthe once again, "You see, my field has always been energy transferral … large-scale energy transferral. Resurrection theory."

What this all means is that the secret behind the Resurrection is that John's Lyctorhood works fundamentally differently to that of his Saints, because his is endothanergetic where theirs is exothanergetic, a reaction between a heavy and a lighter nuclei.

Not only is it endothanergetic instead of exothanergetic, it generates a different form of energy. Emperor John Gaius produces thalergy.

Resurrection Theory

As we know from Anastasia's tripod principle, thalergy alone cannot make life, a soul is also needed—meaning that the inverse is true, in that a soul alone cannot make life, thalergy is needed; In order for John to have performed the Resurrection, he would have needed to imbue bodies with both their soul and thalergy to recreate the life he took in the first place. Logically, this means that John would have to be able to create thalergy. John is the only being in the universe who is able to generate thalergy, namely via the continual fusion reaction between a heavy soul and a light soul, also known as Alecto and himself, to produce it.

Let us return to what Augustine says of the nature of his power: “You don’t get your power from Dominicus,” said Augustine. “It gets its power from you. There’s no exchange involved, no symbiosis. You draw nothing from the system. It relies on you entirely, as we all know. You’re God, John. But—as the Edenites are fond of pointing out—you were once a man. So whither that transition? Where does your power come from? Even if the Resurrection had been the greatest thanergy bloom ever triggered, it would drain away over time.”

John is the source of fresh thanergy in the system: he produces thalergy, which he can decay into thanergy. The thanergy in the system is finite, it would drain away after enough time, but his heavy and light soul reaction producing thalergy that can then be decayed into thanergy allows for new thanergy to be introduced into the system; John's necromancy's unique in that it relies on the rapid creation of thanergy via accelerated thalergetic decay, resulting in thanergetic fission.

Why do I say thanergetic fission? Becase it could explain why his necromancy is shown to manifest as large amounts of light, because what does thanergetic fission result in? We see when Palamedes utilises the rapid thanergetic fission of his thanergy reserves to blow up in Cytherea's face:

The sickroom exploded into white fire, and the bonds pinning Gideon snapped. She fell hard against the wall and spun, drunkenly, lurching back down the corridor as Palamedes Sextus made everything burn. There was no heat, but Gideon sprinted away from that cold white death without bothering to spare a glance behind as though flames were licking at her heels.

White light that gives off no heat. What happens when John reassembles himself?

White light. It bleached the insides of your nose and the back of your throat. It hurt coming out your ears. It bled out your eyeballs. It wasn’t a flash of light, more … a suddenness; when it was gone—as though it hadn’t even existed, but had been a luminous hallucination—time stopped.

Speaking of that scene, it is likely the most definitive proof we see that John produces thalergy, because there is no way for his body to function without thalergy, and thanergy cannot be converted to thalergy (as far as we know). That thalergy has to come from somewhere. John, the Resurrector, is able to create thalergy.

Do you know where else we see what is explicitly called a form of resurrection? The endothanergetic reaction that created Harrowhark Nonagesimus: "My parents gassed fifty-four infants, eighty-one children, and sixty-five teenagers, and harnessed that thanergy bloom to conceive me. My mother used the resultant power to modify her ovum on a chromosomal level, so thanergy ignition wouldn’t compromise the embryo. She did this so I would be a necromancer." [Harrow the Ninth]

A large amount of thanergy is generated within an instant by closely-timed apopneumatic shocks caused by sudden death via what Harrow specifically names as nerve gas [Gideon the Ninth]. This brings to mind thanergetic fission as opposed to fusion, due to the fact it relies on thanergy, but the key detail here lies in two factors: the unequal size of the nuclei (souls) involved here, and the fact these souls are shown to have been manipulated.

The souls—emphasis on souls, as opposed to thanergy—of a large amount of children, of varying ages, are forcibly prevented from passing to the River via liminal osmosis due to the sheer amount of thanergy involved, and they are tied to Harrow's soul, as shown by Abigail commenting on her unique spiritual signature: "I’ve counted up to one hundred and fifty signatures contributing to you, and there’s more—they’re stamps rather than complete revenants, of course, which means their spirits were manipulated to leave marks on you in some way, which is fascinating if it means…"

What is a planet's soul? A communal one, the thalergy complexity of a world. What is Harrow's soul? A communal one, exactly two hundred sons and daughters of her House, manipulated to be stamped on her original one. I cannot speak of what this means, but it means that Harrow's soul is naturally heavier than John's: a nuclei formed from two hundred others.

Conclusions

Lyctorhood is nuclear fusion, with souls as the nuclei: the combination of souls produces thanergy as a byproduct of the process of forming a new nuclei; Souls are not a perpetual energy source, and are unable to generate thanergy or thalergy on their own, it is the combination of them that creates thanergy or thalergy.

Petty Lysis, the Lyctorhood of the Saints, is an exothanergetic reaction which produces thanergy as the two souls involved are melded over untold years: it is not a one-way consumption, it is a fusion, but the power transferral does only go one way, due to the fact it is not a mutual death. Grand Lysis is a more complete, and thus powerful, version of this reaction wherein the two nuclei are fully combined within an instant, as opposed to gradually combined.

John's joining with Alecto works on the same fusion principle of Lyctorhood, but the difference lies in the nature of the reaction at the heart of it: he is endothanergetic and produces thalergy as opposed to thanergy, which he can subsequently decay into thanergy to fuel his necromancy. The Resurrection was made possible by him generating thanergy.

Final Note:

I want to point out something before anyone else can, and that is the fact Lyctors could be interpreted as working on pneumatic fission as opposed to fusion: meaning that the constituent souls are split to produce power, and that the exothanergetic and endothanergetic reactions would be reversed—John exothanergetic instead of endothanergetic, and vice versa with Petty Lyctors, which explains why they appear to be thanergy voids: they absorb all thanergy in their surroundings.

I considered this while writing this theory, but ultimately I found that fusion seemed more likel. Alternatively, both Paul and John are examples of pneumatic fusion due to their more complete Lyctorhood while the Petty Lyctors are working on pneumatic fission. I prefer the idea that all Lyctorhood is pneumatic fusion, which is why I ultimately leaned into that interpretation in this post.

Thank you for reading.

[jessicalprice]

christian universalism strikes again

(Reposted from Twitter)

So a rabbi I know came back from LA pretty jazzed about a Jewish addiction treatment facility there called Beit T'shuvah and so we talked about their approach and that got me curious about non-AA approaches to dealing with addiction which, my friends, was fascinating.

I’ll admit that almost everything I know about AA is more or less from The West Wing. I'm fortunate in that no one in my immediate family has dealt with substance abuse issues, and as far as I know, none of my close friends are alcoholics. My knowledge is pop culture knowledge.

But hearing about Beit T’shuvah was very interesting to me because:

I'd heard that a lot of people who aren't Christian have a hard time with AA because it's so Christian.

The difference in philosophy was subtle at first glance but actually paralleled a lot of the differences between Judaism and Christianity if you dug into it.

Anyway, I got curious about whether success rates were different for Christians vs. non-Christians and started googling. I didn't find much in the way of the data I was looking for, but I did find something a lot more disturbing, which is that the whole 12-step thing is not science-based. At all. For example:

The National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse compared the current current state of addiction treatment to medicine in the early 1900s, when there weren't a lot of standards for who could practice medicine. In order to be a substance abuse counselor in many states, you don't need much more than a GED or high school diploma.

A 2006 survey found "no experimental studies unequivocally demonstrated the effectiveness of AA or TSF approaches for reducing alcohol dependence or problems."

And I want to make clear here that I'm not saying AA is bad--clearly it's helped people. The problem is that it's touted as a universal approach, which is a problem when it's not based on any sort of actual science. 

AA claims that its success rates for people who "really try" are 75%. (And boy does that mirror gaslighting diet language.) But the most precise study out there that's NOT coming from AA (https://amazon.com/dp/B00FIMWI1O) put actual success rates at 5-8%. One of the major textbooks on treating addiction ranks it at 38th out of 48 on its list of effective treatments.

So just like most fad diets, it fails for almost everyone who tries it, and then blames the individual for its failure.

A glaring issue is that the 12 steps don't really acknowledge--or provide any guidance or structure for dealing with--other mental/emotional health issues. That’s a giant problem when people with substance abuse issues have higher than average rates of those issues. (Take a moment to consider how the victim-blaming approach of “if you didn’t succeed, it’s because you didn’t try hard enough” is going to intersect with someone’s major depression.)

Now, if 12-step programs were just one available treatment approach out of many, this wouldn’t be that big of an issue.

But 12% of AA members are there because of court orders. Our legal system is requiring people to undergo treatment that is: 

Christian-based

Not scientifically supported

A failure for the vast majority of people

I mean, here's a pretty comprehensive breakdown that talks about the lack of scientific support for it, alternative treatments (like those in Finland, and naltrexone), and the fundamentalist origins of AA. 

The founder was a member of the Oxford Group, an evangelical organization that taught that all human problems stemmed from fear and selfishness, and could be solved by turning your life over to divine providence, basically. Sound familiar? He based AA on those principles, and given that the only alternative was "drying out" in a sanatorium, and that AA members would show up at bedsides there and invite inpatients to meetings, it must have looked really enlightened to people. In 2022, it bears a queasy resemblance to evangelizing to people in prison, literally a captive audience. 

To be fair--to their credit--they were some of the first people out there saying alcoholism was a disease, and not a moral failing. But they didn’t treat it like a disease when it came to testing treatment options:

Mann also collaborated with a physiologist named E. M. Jellinek. Mann was eager to bolster the scientific claims behind AA, and Jellinek wanted to make a name for himself in the growing field of alcohol research. In 1946, Jellinek published the results of a survey mailed to 1,600 AA members. Only 158 were returned. Jellinek and Mann jettisoned 45 that had been improperly completed and another 15 filled out by women, whose responses were so unlike the men’s that they risked complicating the results. From this small sample—98 men—Jellinek drew sweeping conclusions about the “phases of alcoholism,” which included an unavoidable succession of binges that led to blackouts, “indefinable fears,” and hitting bottom. Though the paper was filled with caveats about its lack of scientific rigor, it became AA gospel.

And then Senator Harold Hughes, who was an AA member, got Congress to establish the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism, which promoted AA's beliefs, and sometimes suppressed research that conflicted with them:

In 1976, for instance, the Rand Corporation released a study of more than 2,000 men who had been patients at 44 different NIAAA-funded treatment centers. The report noted that 18 months after treatment, 22 percent of the men were drinking moderately. The authors concluded that it was possible for some alcohol-dependent men to return to controlled drinking. Researchers at the National Council on Alcoholism charged that the news would lead alcoholics to falsely believe they could drink safely. The NIAAA, which had funded the research, repudiated it. Rand repeated the study, this time looking over a four-year period. The results were similar.

The standard 28-day rehab stay, prescribed and insured:

Marvin D. Seppala, the chief medical officer at the Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation in Minnesota, one of the oldest inpatient rehab facilities in the country, described for me how 28 days became the norm: “In 1949, the founders found that it took about a week to get detoxed, another week to come around so [the patients] knew what they were up to, and after a couple of weeks they were doing well, and stable. That’s how it turned out to be 28 days. There’s no magic in it.”

The last sentence here (bolded for emphasis) is especially chilling. 

That may be heartening, but it’s not science. As the rehab industry began expanding in the 1970s, its profit motives dovetailed nicely with AA’s view that counseling could be delivered by people who had themselves struggled with addiction, rather than by highly trained (and highly paid) doctors and mental-health professionals. No other area of medicine or counseling makes such allowances.

There is no mandatory national certification exam for addiction counselors. The 2012 Columbia University report on addiction medicine found that only six states required alcohol- and substance-abuse counselors to have at least a bachelor’s degree and that only one state, Vermont, required a master’s degree. Fourteen states had no license requirements whatsoever—not even a GED or an introductory training course was necessary—and yet counselors are often called on by the judicial system and medical boards to give expert opinions on their clients’ prospects for recovery.

And, again, the idea that this is the One True And Only Way to deal with alcohol abuse leads to medical professionals ignoring research and treatment options that could be helping people. They are, in essence, taking all this completely on faith. 

There has been some progress: the Hazelden center began prescribing naltrexone and acamprosate to patients in 2003. But this makes Hazelden a pioneer among rehab centers. “Everyone has a bias,” Marvin Seppala, the chief medical officer, told me. “I honestly thought AA was the only way anyone could ever get sober, but I learned that I was wrong.”

Stephanie O’Malley, a clinical researcher in psychiatry at Yale who has studied the use of naltrexone and other drugs for alcohol-use disorder for more than two decades, says naltrexone’s limited use is “baffling.”

“There was never any campaign for this medication that said, ‘Ask your doctor,’ ” she says. “There was never any attempt to reach consumers.” Few doctors accepted that it was possible to treat alcohol-use disorder with a pill. And now that naltrexone is available in an inexpensive generic form, pharmaceutical companies have little incentive to promote it.

I'm not saying that AA is bad. I'm saying its hegemony is bad. It clearly is effective for some people--a minority of people. But it's not for the majority of people, and that's a problem when it's being prescribed by courts (and doctors) as if it's a one-size-fits-all approach.

It’s not an accident that a Christian approach to treating addiction presents itself as the One True Way For All Humankind, insists that courts and doctors privilege it, demands that people take its effectiveness on faith, and blames anyone for whom it doesn’t work for not believing/trying hard enough.

Hegemony is a problem. 

(Photo credit: Pixabay)

[exceedinglygayotter]

One really neat little detail in Breath of the Wild I don't see get talked about that much is that Ancient Arrows are one of the only four things that can damage Dark Beast Ganon, alongside the Bow of Light, Twilight Bow, and energy beams from the Master Sword, the latter three of which are all sacred magical weapons.

It has the really interesting implication that either the ancient technology is divine in origin or created in emulation of divine power, either of which would make sense seeing as the ancient Sheikah are characterized as being very devout worshipers of Hylia.

It's entirely possible that the warping allowed by the Sheikah Slate was either inspired by or works using the same principles as that golden light thing that Zelda uses to transport Link off of the Divine Beasts after killing the Blights, and to move him to Hyrule Field for the fight against Dark beast. Both cause Link to turn into light and fly up into the air before rematerializing at the destination, even if it's not quite the same.

TotK adding Recall, a power that very likely originates with Hylia (and simultaneously heavily implying that Hylia is a goddess of Time, presumably the one mentioned in Majora's Mask), also puts Stasis in something of a new light. They're both color-coded as yellow, and Stasis basically does just freeze something in time. Stasis is likely an attempt by the ancient Sheikah to recreate the very power of the goddess herself.

The fact that a few characters refer to the Divine Beasts as being the guardian deities of their respective peoples (and indeed the very name "Divine Beasts") may be very literal, they might actually be artificial deities. Not major gods like Hylia, just lesser ones like Malanya and the Great fairies, but still.

I just think it has a lot of interesting implications.

[r--kt]

Okay, but why the "Kannabi" Bridge? I mean, why is this called that? Turns out, this is an amazing and very beautiful metaphor.

Kakashi Gaiden analysis. Kannabi — the bridge between two worlds

I will look at this from the side of Shinto culture (based on the materials that I could find, feel free to correct me if you know more about this) and from the side of Kakashi and Obito's storylines.

Contents | cultural code · significance for the plot structure · the idea itself (this one is really important!)

Cultural code

In Shinto culture, it is not customary to divide the world into human and sacred, especially into divine and demonic principles — everything exists in harmony with each other, in a single system.

Kannabi (神奈備) refers to a region that is a shintai (repositories in which kami reside) itself, or hosts a kami. In fact, Kannabi is a place of connection between the human and the spiritual. Usually these are mountains, rivers, and forests that stand out for their beauty. These are such accumulations of natural energy, so sacred that their presence requires observance of a certain rite. So, if in relatively modern times be present next to the blossoming sakura, picnics in picturesque mountains and the like has normalized in Japanese culture, then in ancient times people did not dare to disturb mountains or groves with their presence. In such places, people performed rituals of worship to the deity, wrestling matches, divination, sacred dances, offerings, etc. The territory of the kami did not completely coincide with the territory of worship to them, people still tried to move away from the center of the sacred place so as not to bother their deity. To mark the border of entry into Kannabi, symbolic gates were installed — most often in the form of torii.

examples of kannabi in real life. Mount Fuji and Nachi Falls. [ as I understand, shintai and kannabi are synonymous concepts, but kannabi is broader in meaning. ]

It's all about how important the term is in a cultural context. A place of divine power that cannot be desecrated. From here, the Kannabi Bridge and the surrounding area can also be considered endowed with divine energy — and here the most interesting thing begins.

Significance for the plot structure

Now about the scenario composition. In general, the Battle of Kannabi, as the event itself in Kakashi and Obito's storylines, according to Joseph Campbell's «hero's journey», is a stage of transition between worlds. That's what the symbolism of the place also works for. This is the moment when the hero assumes responsibility for the beliefs he carries and their consequences, and literally or symbolically crosses the threshold between the safe and familiar world to the dangerous and unknown one, embarks on the path of reflection and prepares to meet the unconscious.

Thus, briefly speaking, Kakashi finds the strength to resolve his internal conflict in favor of his father's attitudes about the value of each Shinobi, and Obito sacrifices himself, protecting his loved ones and defending his ideals. Then their paths got separate so that each one could face with the unknown by himself.

In the context of the monomyph model, this is how the beginning of the initiation stage is demonstrated (i.e., the transition from one state to another, which is accompanied by some kind of ritual). Since Kannabi in culture is the boundary between the human and the divine, it can be concluded that this very transition is shown almost literally, thanks to the sharingan awakening and the broken tanto. This is the first turning point in history, structurally coinciding with the end of the first act.

The idea itself

And what do we see in general? In the battle of Kannabi, the religious Shinto subtext is vividly read. For the battle in a sacred place, the moral positive change of the hero (Kakashi) or his original courage (Obito) and a certain sacrifice (Kakashi's eye), the deities give a reward: the power of sharingan, which helps them save Rin, which is shared between Obito and Kakashi and in the future generally serves as a direct demonstration of the spiritual connection between them. At the same time, for the desecration of a sacred place (the goal of the mission was to blow up a bridge), heroes are punished: from this point of view, Obito's death is a certain sacrifice for the damage inflicted on the deity.

There is also information that the name of the bridge - Kannabi-kyo (神無毘橋) - can also be interpreted as «A bridge where the gods won't help». idk if it's true, but sounds cool.

Moreover, the very name of Obito's mangekyo — Kamui (神威) — literally translates as «The Power of Gods». Perhaps it is based on the mentioned concept of the place where Kakashi and Obito received the power of sharingan. And maybe that's why they call the technique the same way: because they treat it rather with such a religious meaning.

and thanks for reading to the end ♡

[our-lord-satanas]

BAPHOMET

WHO ARE THEY?

Baphomet is a Pagan deity that represents duality and balance. Most people work with Baphomet in order to become more peaceful, understanding, and balanced. Baphomet is often referred to as ‘Satan’ or ‘The Devil’, which isn’t true. People mostly say that because Baphomet has pentacle on their head and they have the head of a goat. A goat represents fertility and spiritually.

BASIC INFO:

Appearance: in some Pagan traditions, Baphomet is seen as a symbol of balance and unity between the Divine Masculine and Divine Feminine, represented by a human figure with the head of a goat. In other traditions, Baphomet is considered the personification of the primordial chaos and oblivion. In some folklore and myths, Baphomet was a symbol of fertility and reproductive power, and was often depicted as a hermaphrodite or a hybrid creature.

Personality: Baphomet is often depicted as a fierce and formidable entity, representing the destructive and chaotic forces of nature. Although they can seem intimidating and unpredictable, they also have a nurturing and compassionate side. Their personality is often reflected in the dual nature of Baphomet, where they are both masculine and feminine, gentle and fierce, peaceful and intense. They are a symbol of balance and unity, the meeting point of opposites and contradictions.

Symbols: pentagram, head of a goat, human body with an animal head, pentacle, sword, key, male and female, and the words "As above so below"

God/Goddess of: sexuality, demonic forces, wisdom, nature, balance, darkness, and pride

Culture: Demonic

Plants and trees: rosemary, lilacs, irises, lavender, aconitum napellus, black walnut, and cacao

Crystals: obsidian, amethyst, onyx, crystal quartz, garnet, black tourmaline, ruby, selenite, and brown quartz

Animals: black goats, snakes, wolves, ravens, dogs, oxen, and black cats

Incense: dragon’s blood, black musk, opium, frankincense, and mag champa

Colours: black, white, yellow, red, green, purple, gold, and dark blue

Numbers: 8, 13, and 666

Zodiacs: Pisces and Aquarius

Tarot: The Chariot, The Hermit, The Empress, and The Devil

Planets: Saturn and Mars

Days: Saturday, Tuesday, Walpurgis Night, Halloween, Blavatsky Day, The Winter Solstice, and Yule

Parents: Lucifer and Lilith

Siblings: none

Partner: none

Children: Azazel and Astaroth (not official)

MISC:

• The Union of Male and Female: Baphomet is often depicted with both male and female characteristics, symbolizing the unity of the masculine and the feminine.

• The Balance of Good and Evil: Baphomet is an entity of balance, symbolizing the interplay between good and evil in nature and in life.

• The Sabbatic Goat or The Horned One: Baphomet is often portrayed as a goat-like creature with horns.

• Harmony

• Knowledge and wisdom

• Power and strength

• Spiritual knowledge and enlightenment

• A balance scale, which represents balance and harmony

• The word "Solve and Coagulo", which translates to "divide and combine" and refers to the dualism nature of Baphomet

• Rebellion and defiance

• Freedom and individuality

• Unity and togetherness

• Chaos and disorder

• Sexuality and sensuality

• Nature and wildness

• Protection and defense

• Magic and witchcraft

FACTS ABOUT BAPHOMET:

• Name: Baphomet is named after the Greek word "baphos," which means "the virgin."

• Symbol of the Satanist: the imagery of Baphomet has become a symbol of the Satanist church, with variations on the iconography being used by other satanists.

• Relatioinships: Baphomet is a figure in the Gnoetics who often represents the synthesis of female and male principles.

• History: the figure of Baphomet is believed to have originated among Gnostics, a group who blended early Christian and Greek-Roman mythology.

• Role: they are believed to represent the balance of male and female and the union of good and evil, acting in many ways as a symbol of the Satanist.

• Associations: they are often associated with the concept of balance, as well as various other aspects of Gnosticism, such as the concept of the duality of existence, the synthesis of opposing forces, and the merging of opposites.

• Connection to the beast: it is said that Baphomet symbolized the balancing of the inner animal nature with spirituality and intelligence.

• Nature: Baphomet is considered to be a symbol of the balance of opposites, blending the masculine and feminine elements into a singular whole.

HOW TO WORK WITH BAPHOMET: 

You must ask Baphomet if they want to work with you. Baphomet is a deity, so you shouldn’t be commanding them or telling them what to do. You must be patient with them. (Watch out for trickster spirits). Respectfully ask them to give you a sign, and if you’re respectful enough, you might as well get an answer. 

If they answer YES, you can create an altar to be more connected, but if you cannot then have something that reminds you of them. It can be small and simple. 

If they answer NO, respectfully apologize for disturbing them. If you connected through an object then you don’t have to throw it out, you can cleanse it and get rid of that intention. If it’s something from nature, you can bury it.

PRAYER FOR BAPHOMET:

To begin, you can address them by name and say something like: 

"Great Lord Baphomet, keeper of balance and bringer of harmony, I come to you seeking your wisdom and protection. I offer myself to you, my heart and my spirit, and I ask for your blessing in this prayer."

"Thank you, Great Lord Baphomet, for walking by my side and guiding me on this path. I depart from this space with balance and peace in my heart and with a sense of purpose and direction. Hail Lord Baphomet.”

WHAT ARE SIGNS THAT BAPHOMET WANTS ME TO WORK WITH THEM?

If your request to work with Baphomet has been accepted, you can look for these signs:

• A strong connection or attraction to Baphomet.

• Desire to explore or study Baphomet's teachings.

• Wanting to explore your own masculinity or femininity and find balance in your own nature.

• Desire to challenge social norms and embrace your own unique identity.

• Feeling of being guided by a force outside yourself.

• Feeling of being called to a higher purpose or feeling like there's more to your life than just everyday existence.

If your requests to work with Baphomet have not been accepted, you may see the following signs:

• Your intuition may lead you in a different direction and away from their teachings.

• Signs in your life may not align with their teachings or you may feel unclear or uncertain regarding their energies.

• Dreams and meditations may involve different figures or energies, and you may feel a lack of connection with Satan or Baphomet's energies.

Overall you need to be respectful of deities denying your request.

OFFERINGS:

• Your time.

• Meditation.

• Communication.

• Carving Baphomet’s symbol or name into a candle.

• Any kind of art of them.

• Being respectful.

• Learning about them.

• Candles.

• Liquor.

• Ropes.

• Incense: dragons blood, black musk, frankincense, etc.

• Animal skulls, bones, horns, etc.

• Dark or red flowers

DEVOTIONAL ACTS FOR BAPHOMET:

• Reject traditional values and social norms

• Embrace your masculinity and femininity

• Live a chaotic, self-guided life

• Reject authority and control

• Seek freedom and autonomy

• Balance your masculine and feminine energy

• Practice self-love and self-acceptance

• Live a hedonistic lifestyle of pleasure and indulgence

• Be brave, adventurous, and open to new experiences

• Live an unconventional life.

IS IT SAFE TO EAT OR DRINK AN OFFERING I GIVE TO THEM?

It is not recommended to eat or drink an offering that was given to Baphomet. Baphomet is a God of excess and self-indulgence and represents the darker sides of the human experience. Eating or drinking an offering made to Baphomet can carry risks of negative side effects, such as a lack of balance in one's life, a sense of greediness or addiction, or other negative energetic effects. Instead, it's recommended to dispose of an offering made to Baphomet in a respectful and safe way.

[breelandwalker]

Oh for fuck's sake, are we having the curse-shaming argument AGAIN??? Every time I think we're done unteaching this nonsense.....

Arright, quick rundown of the points, more or less in order, because I've already had this discussion a hundred times:

One - There is no universal moral or ethical code in witchcraft. Not every witch is a Wiccan or follows Wiccan principles. Not even all Wiccans follow every Wiccan principle, and that includes the Rule of Three / Threefold Law. The Wiccan Rede is ADVICE, not a set of hard and fast rules or divine mandates. You don't get to tell other witches what types of spells they should and should not cast.

Two - If you think the Rule of Three / Threefold Law means, "Whatever you give out comes back to you times three" or if you think it only applies to baneful magic, you don't understand the rule. The original rule, as stated by Robert Graves in "The White Goddess" (you know, the fictional novel that Gardner used as a model for Wicca) states that whatever a witch is dealt, they should deal back three times over. In fact, the passage cites a particular initiation ritual that involves symbolic flagellation, NOT a code of ethics for witchcraft.

It was picked up by later authors as "Whatever You Give" and popularized by media like The Craft and Charmed and authors like Silver Ravenwolf in the 90s when the modern witchcraft movement was having its' millennial boom. (This is a gross oversimplification, but that's when the concept became common enough in pop culture that non-witches were starting to become familiar with the term.)

Three - Karma has absolutely nothing to do with it. Karma is not instant or sentient and the bastardized version of the concept that's been worked into much of modern witchcraft literature more closely resembles the Christian concept of sin and judgment than what karma actually is. Remove the word from your vocabulary when you're talking about magic. The universe does not give one single flying fuck what you do with your spells.

Four - The word you're searching for when you talk about these concepts is CONSEQUENCES. Every action you take, every spell you cast, everything has consequences and everything has a price. This isn't a divine mandate or a cosmic law either. It's a simple fact of life. BUT. It doesn't mean that baneful spells are morally or ethically wrong or that they're going to blow up in someone's face. The only reason a baneful spell might be more likely to rebound is that it's one of the only types of spells that witches actively ward against.

Five - Witches have a right to use magic for persuasion, defense, justice, retribution, binding, prevention, or outright harm if they so choose. If you don't like those types of spells, then don't cast them.

Six - Moral puritanism is a cancer that will destroy us all. Get off your high horse, drop the holier-than-thou bullshit, and remember that being a witch does not make you immune to propaganda.

Thank you for coming to my Toad Talk.

[reilliane]

Fatalism ⊱⊰ Scaramouche

✤ she/her ✤ words: 9.5k

The oh-so-great Balladeer was a puppet on strings. Despite this, he has a dream to fulfill, and he would do whatever it takes to achieve it—even if it meant forsaking his 'heart'. But pride always comes before the fall. He could never ever write over fatalism.

✤platonic angst :) ✤we're going to break him all over yall

“Awaken.” commanded the Electro Archon as the heavens growled. 

The violet pool within the golden laver swirled, the entwined hands coruscating with a divine spark of Electro. Her command was obeyed, and two pairs of eyes opened at the same time. 

His birth was most unorthodox. Disparate in the sense that he wasn’t born of flesh and blood, but of methods inexplicable to human comprehension—even to him. 

It began with a tranquility like no other, enclosed in a spacious black void in which no other creature lived but his consciousness. But in that cloister of nothingness, he felt safe, he felt a closeness to something he couldn’t pinpoint. The contiguity would be ascertained soon after he heard an obdurate voice calling- ordering him to be roused from slumber. 

So he did. 

And he bore sight to his creator, his mother, the Electro Archon, as she regarded him with a countenance that spoke little of what she felt. Her hand upon his forehead was warm, but her eyes withheld an everlasting winter that bespoke of no potential summers.

She murmured something under her breath before withdrawing her hand and turning her back for a moment. An inauspicious action.

This churn of discomfort was set aside upon recognizing the same warmth somewhere on his limbs and he followed its origin. With a short incline of his head and a twist to the left, he blinked.

There were two sets of long tables, occupied by two figures, him included. His left arm was outstretched to the side, dipped into a gilded laver that contained a liquid tinted with violets that reminded him of his creator’s eyes. It shimmered and emitted a sense of divine power.

But what kept his hand warm in the cold pool was the hand of another. 

Her gaze upon him was a mirror of his own upon hers. She spoke not with her tongue but her [c] eyes, and he too, did the same. They were parallel to one another, distant yet entwined by their fingers that had the same length, down to the fingertips. 

They were both without a name, without a defined personality. Canvases that were white and stark, hoping to be filled with color. Hoping to be a magnum opus. 

He wouldn’t be able to utter anything in that moment, as they were then separated, whisked away by strangers that appeared to be of service to the Electro Archon. He would only see his mother and that girl he reckoned to be his twin sibling later in a privy room, where the tall woman would first come to his sibling, who dipped her head. 

Her figure would close in on itself, glowing [c] until she became nothing but a small accessory floating upon their creator’s palm. It—his sister—had become tinier than his own hand. 

“A pawn piece,” a voice came from the left, and a sly-looking woman with pink hair hummed. “How appropriate for you to liken her to one.”

“But of course,” responded his mother. “If the puppet is to hold the Gnosis, then I must first see if he can handle something in its likeness. She holds at least half of the power, and for that I see no reason not to shape her as a pawn. I surmise it is the only piece in the board untouched by the Heavenly Principles.”

The foxy woman smiled impishly as she concluded. “For though pawns are capable of attaining majesty, they are still expendable.”

“Precisely. Now..”

The Electro Archon came upon him, her violet gaze stormy and steely as she neared the floating ‘pawn piece’ closer to his chest. “May your being be emboldened by that which is meant to be your core; a prototype heart of power.” 

Like congealed water, the piece disappeared through his clothes, into his skin, and into his very being. What previously was a mere accessory took a different shape in his consciousness, and he felt whole.

Complete. It was a feeling like no other. 

Raiden Ei hummed, satisfied at the sight of the spark of life in the puppet’s eyes. “So it has worked.” 

“A good thing, isn’t it?” Yae Miko questioned, her tail swaying leisurely at her back. “But her very case is a pseudo-power half of what is authentic, no?”

“Yes and no.” The little puppet did not understand what they were speaking of, there was only the innate kind of euphoria provided by the comfort of the pawn piece within him—his own heart. It was his twin sibling, his other source of power, if he managed to comprehend the conversation correctly. 

He felt full, like when he first opened his eyes and saw his mother. Felt safe, when he saw that his birth was in synchronicity with his heart. 

So when the hand plunged back into his chest like nothing to retrieve the small pawn, it felt as though he was engulfed in a banquet's inferno. His limbs lit with flames and it was difficult to get a grasp of his environment, mind befuddled, voice lost.

He could barely see the way the priestess scrutinized him as a different item was thrust into his chest. 

It was bigger and weighed much more. It was a heart that thrummed with so much divinity and power that he turned statuesque in its glory. The difference was profound. 

His little heart—his twin, rather—held a peace akin to a nest of comfort, but the heart his mother had newly provided was laden with somber wisdom. He sensed not the presence of the girl who bore only the slight likeness to him, but he felt that of a different one, kind and prudent, yet desolate with life. It was so much that it brought tears to his eyes.

And thus, with a sharp, narrowed look of his creator, the decision was set in stone. 

Not even a fortnight—no, a fortnight was most generous. Not even a week, and they’ve been forsaken.

“I need not a vessel whose gaze was more scrupulous than callous. He isn’t fit for the purpose I built him for.” 

Haunting words.

“And what of the nexus you built with him? Essentially, they are one.”

Sickening truths. 

“... She is a prototype I am not disposed to confine, either.”

Vexing failures. 

Reminders of the reason as to why he had pursued this path. Too many betrayals, too many faux promises, and too little mercy in a world that was filled with naught but the evil end of the spectrum. 

The puppet clicked his tongue as he gazed upon the lacerations on his skin, his clothes torn and tattered, fringed off the hems with licking flames. He stared at the remnants, condemning the beasts inwardly with a series of curses only unfortunate peers ever had the tragedy of knowing. 

“Closer,” he murmured as the mob dispersed, only for another horde to approach. “Closer, and closer..” to greatness. 

The Abyss was even more ruthless than the surface world of Teyvat, yet he found the darkness within it reminiscent of the void that came before his creation. He ignored the sting of his injuries and opted to gird himself with the beckon of power. 

“Don’t push yourself.” the warning was in his head, but it sounded as if the voice came from behind him, always in his shadow. “I can’t have the Doctor poking needles into you as though you’re a labrat again.”

Funny, isn’t that what he was to that man, anyway? Besides, that sort of event happened each time he returned from his expeditions and battles in the Abyss. 

“Kunikuzushi.” the voice was stern. 

“Fine.” 

He always meant to go overboard, that was a metier fit only for someone of his constitution. Fragile and enervated humans couldn’t hold a candle to his sturdiness as a puppet, and it was primarily this facet of his existence that corroborated his mileage to the Fatui.

So, he welcomed it with open arms, for he knew this path, though toilsome and arduous, would pave the road to his fate as a god.

He had forgotten the exact length of his ‘tarry’ in the sinister Abyss, but the darkness was a close companion that he’d known for his whole life. 

In the rare interludes in which there would be no scourge or cataclysm in his stygian ventures in the otherworldly realm, he would rest and allow the extent of his injuries to overwhelm him. Only then would there be an effulgent flicker in the suffocating coat of black, coming upon his will.

His twin sister embodied that light, as she was a creation more mystifying than he was in essence. 

She was—as he recalled his creator called her—his heart, who awoke in his moment of sheer desperation when he tried to ask the Electro Archon for help many centuries ago, and who had been with him ever since. 

Humans were born with one, and he was created with her in a similar aspect, and both their eyes opened at the same time. 

A puppet with a heart.

Kabukimono and Nisemono. 

Kunikuzushi and Kenkoroshi.

Names that undoubtedly would only stockpile on the other as they traversed this path to their shared dream. 

His heart was his main source of power.

Yes, he was strong on his own, but his sister was created from the godly power of Raiden Ei, emboldened by the influence of the Gnosis—the piece that was meant to be his. It meant that his sister was essentially a lesser version of the Gnosis, a facsimile—an imitation.

 

It was a connotation that conjured a frown on her usually blank face, but one that was wiped off with ease whenever Kunikuzushi would remind her that he was a literal puppet created in the likeness of their creator. There was a peculiar comradery in their shared existence as imitations, but that did not void their identities as ‘creatures of their own’. 

Kunikuzushi would receive word from one of Harbingers themselves to return to Snezhnaya sometime later when he would be in one of his seldomly taken respites. The puppet would wordlessly stare at his hand, which was in the grasp of his twin sister, who had taken up a corporeal form to accompany him in the physical realm.

He never failed to assert that it wasn’t needed—for he could literally hear her voice in his head—, but she also never failed to exhort that accompanying him physically was a different kind of company in itself. He disliked how it was a sound reason, so he relented every time. 

This mutually indulgent quietude was infrequently broken by either two, but it was fractured by the ‘pawn’ the second they arrived in Snezhnaya. Personally escorted by a handful of Fatui soldiers upon the Jester’s management following the order to return from the Abyss, she tugged away at his sleeve. 

“Something weighs the wind.”

During times like these, when she would speak in riddles and figures, the puppet would be less than enthused, yet he humored her. It was inexplicable, but his twin always seemed to have some kind of prescience. 

“It doesn’t feel dangerous, though.” Ah, so that meant it was something good. 

Kunikuzushi could not help the snark in his voice as he responded. “I’m disposed to believe that you’re lying in the face of our ‘life’s’ usual pessimism. When has anything remotely good ever come to stay?” 

“This one will, perhaps.”

It was unnecessary to tone down their voices, even though their peers regarded them with puzzlement. Why should they? No one would understand the context of their conversation, anyway. 

The factuality of Kenkoroshi’s presage would be ascertained in a castle bespeckled with the rigidity of snowflakes. Diamond flakes annealed with solemn ‘love’, sharpened as though to appear like icy dirks, yet refined as if they also symbolize frozen tears. 

The loveless motherland of Snezhnaya was a wintery Kingdom he had only come to at least once or twice. Little did he know, as his twin retreated back into the pawn piece in his chest, that he’d later be acclimated to the snow that was as pale and bleak as his perspective of life. 

“You are hereby appointed as the Sixth Harbinger, take upon a new name as Scaramouche, the Balladeer.”

Ah. So that was what the entourage was for. 

The Tsaritsa was with the voice of a daemon, yet the undertone withheld the echo of a lamenting cherub. Time was scant to bother wondering over why—after all, it wasn’t like it was a responsibility or duty of his to answer to the Cryo Archon’s emotions. He was yet to even cross his own quagmires. 

His inauguration as the Sixth Harbinger, the Balladeer, was well-received and esteemed within the Fatui, but he had no doubts that it was because it was mere pleasantries. The rest of the Harbingers could hardly be impressed, but that was his own personal conjecture, for they showed probable facades that probably belied their ennui. 

The celebration lasted a week, and he came to admit the complication in adjusting to the sudden attention brought with the bestowment of a rank he had come to travail over. 

On the eve of its final day, he was ‘alone’ in his personal quarters that were leagues above what he was used to. Or perhaps he should rephrase that and mention that it had been a long time since he had chambers he could call his own, one that supposedly matched the majesty of his identity.

The last time he had something of this splendor, he was still on the watch of the Electro Archon, and that lasted less than five days.

What an irritating reminder. 

“Is this everything you sought for?” as always, Kenkoroshi’s hand was void of any kind of temperature–she was insipid in a literal fashion, and it wasn’t meant to vilify her existence as an imitation. 

For a moment, Kunikuzushi—no, Scaramouche, was quiet.

It had been a long and exhausting week of celebration, no matter the novelty and pride it brought him to be able to reach such a monumental stone in his ‘life’.

He looked down at the hand on his own, finding [not admitting] the gesture comforting. It was a reticent gesture between them, to just hold hands whenever they were alone—it was homage to their ‘birth’, when they awoke to an unknown world.

They had nothing, no knowledge, just the hand of the other and their presence and existence split as two but deemed as one. 

“No.” He answered later, “I wish for what was meant to be mine.”

The Gnosis. 

In a fleeting moment, he sensed her slight tension before it was easily awashed with her usual nonchalance. “... Why do you covet it so much?”

He scoffed. That was a stupid question, why else would he want something that was his in all putative angles of logic and reason? He was solely created for it.

“My purpose—no, my destiny. It was mine, that power.”

“And my power is not enough for you?”

Snezhnayan winters were algid—bone-chilling. Albeit he was far too acclimated to such temperatures and was far from being bothered, he could feel its biting frost on his skin, still. It was something that a measly hearth in the far left of his chambers could ever hope to drub.

Yet the question that she asked sent a chill down his spine. She asked it with the same, monotonous delivery, but for some reason, it sounded much heavier in his conscience. He despised it. 

“Adequate enough.” He deigned to respond, their hands motionlessly entwined, still.  “Enough to last until my birth as a god.”

There was no response. He despised that, as well. 

For the first time that night, he turned to her—only to find her [c] gaze pointed towards the crackling flames of the hearth. He almost heard the crisp sound of burning wood and could almost smell the scent of burning flesh, but that was a memory in the crevices of his mind. Imageries and sounds that forego his mission to be divine. 

“You’ll help me, won’t you, my dear twin.” there wasn’t exactly venom in his voice, just a poignant edge that prompted the [c]-haired pawn to look at him. When she said nothing again, he clicked his tongue. 

“Kenkoroshi.” he admonished. 

Finally, she answered.

“I will.” He could tell that it was genuine, it just took her some time to respond. 

Good. With that, he turned away, and she did as well, though their hands remained connected. It wasn’t sooner when he spoke again, his tone carrying a sense of realization and pride altogether. 

“We’ve to think of a new name for you. I’ve already taken up another. Any grand ideas?” 

Silence. He wasn’t surprised. He was the one that offered to establish themselves with new names each time they decided to leave a piece of unwanted tragedy behind, so it came to perspicuous reason that he was to do the honors again—

“[Name].” in awe, he turned to her. “I’ll go with [Name].”

The astonishment would’ve lasted had she worn an actual expression on her face. He did not give any sort of critique about her chosen name, however. He simply nodded, testing the name on his tongue. 

“Good.” he squeezed her hand. “A new chapter burns bright. One step closer to the finale.”

Their work was cut out as a Harbinger, although, technically speaking—[Name] wasn’t the Harbinger. Missions for the Tsaritsa and her endeavors proceeded without fail, and under those zealous quests, she was aware that the Harbingers had personal assignments of their own. 

It was ostensible in an organization like the Fatui, she knew, that people’s interactions were transactions in their own right. Her twin brother preferred to intuit it the same way, in contrast to her own beliefs. When she told him of this, that she thought that there needn’t be any ulterior motives to causeries, he rolled his eyes.

“I looked at the world similarly once.. Look where that landed us.” he had sardonically quipped, and the conversation ended there.

Still, even with the facts transfixed, the way she conceived things did not change. It was to the chagrin of her sibling, but he did little to dissuade her from thinking otherwise—for she knew that as long as it wasn’t an impediment to his goal, he’d let her do and think as she pleased. 

He was bitter about it, though, later on mumbling that the ‘ginger-head war addict’ must’ve influenced her. He spoke of Tartaglia, the young soldier who somehow found and believed that there could be goodness in a league that founded morally questionable coups and schemes, the pawn noted.

Although she never truly met the youth who eventually came to be promoted as the Eleventh Harbinger face to face—her existence wasn’t broadcasted for the entire organization to know—maybe, she thought, maybe she was influenced a tad.

Or perhaps she always was just meant to be on the spectrum in opposition to her twin. 

It had always been that way since the start of their lonesome ventures and idiosyncrasies about the nation of Inazuma. 

When he had gotten jaded over the betrayals the world had thrown them in, he swore to scrub every trace of emotion that stained him until not even vestiges could be sensed. Yet, here he still was, the one who felt emotions the most. It was not to disregard the fact that she could also feel, but rather, he was just a feelings-kind of puppet and there was nothing wrong with that. 

Scaramouche said that it was because he had her, his heart, so he could feel. 

[Name], ever circumspect, was worried—but she knew it to be true. If he had no heart, if he just had power, then what would he be like? She didn’t want to imagine it.

What, exactly? Didn’t want to imagine him without a heart? Or didn’t want to imagine him with all the power he could ask for? She didn’t know, either, and that in itself was frightening. 

He assured that he would not get rid of her, however, he always did—for they were twins, they were two beings as one. Kabukimono and Kunikuzushi said it himself, and she took comfort in that. 

But a wise man knew better. Someone, a third party guided and led by pragmatism and reason, stated otherwise. 

“While it is true that you were created as an expendable tool, even the most churlish will know that your power is valuable.”

[Name] merely shook her head, her legs swinging absently as she sat on a rather tall, metal table that surely must’ve felt cold to most humans. “I’m not interested in your spiel, sir. Spare me the talk.”

The Doctor was that wise man, Dottore, the Second Harbinger. From the start, he had been fascinated by their existence as one being split in two, and whether he was intrigued by which one if specificity was in context, well, she didn’t know. 

He unnerved her; his wisdom, his tact, and his rationales. 

“Come now, there’s no harm in being honest, is there? The Balladeer isn’t awake.” 

She didn’t like how he somehow knew how to transfix ideas through her head, a feat none other than Kabukimono could do. The former was a formidable man, and she had forgotten how many times she expressed that to the puppet. 

“I would not have furthered this level of strength without Dottore’s pricking needles,” he had told her before. “So just put up with it.”

Kabukimono was powerful with her, but the Doctor unsealed the hidden strength—that was a truth that she could not deny. So, as advised, she tolerated the Sumerian. Her patience was running thin, however. 

The number of Dottore’s laboratories exceeded the amount of fingers a human had. Throughout her time in the Fatui, she had gone to visit them all, and aside from the location of each tool and table, the interior looked ever the same—not to mention the scent of rubbing alcohol and antiseptic. Nowadays, or ever since he had unlocked the full capacity of Kunikuzushi’s powers, it carried the scent of something inexplicable. 

It might’ve come from the odd, violet substances she always saw him inject into her sibling.

“You may try to hide under that expressionless facade, but I know you are just as emotional. Not even he knows that, does he?”

The Doctor’s footsteps reverberated in the silent laboratory, coupled with the clinks and clanks of the tools in the metallic tray beside the equally metallic table. 

She ignored him, opting to regard the place where Kunikuzushi laid to act as some kind of distraction. To Sandrone, it was an inventing table as much as it was a dissecting one. She mentioned that the names differ with purpose, so if she were to account that into the present, then was it something akin to an inventing table??

The Doctor stopped in front of her, and since her line of sight was pointed to the floor, she was staring at his neatly shined footwear. By then, with him up front, she knew there was no use in blocking out whatever he wished to blabber about. 

“It’s precisely the reason why he exploits your power. Because someone who can’t ‘feel’ is therefore less apt to act out on sentimental grounds. They simply obey—like a tool.” 

Ah, if he meant to incite something by means of depreciating—more like likening—her existence to her twin sibling, then it was unlikely to work. From the genesis of it all, she already knew who she was. What she was. It came with innate acceptance, so there was no way she’d ever think of herself as more than that; a tool. 

“Because that is my purpose for living, to be used as his source of power.” 

“Purpose for living or existing? There’s a difference.” Of course, the Doctor always had a rebuttal, and they were eloquent. “Are you truly alive?”

A good question to ruminate over; was she alive? She was, but was she living or existing? 

The answer, albeit unsaid, was reticent between them. She was simply existing because she came to this world as such. Beyond the names and purposes she had been given, there was nothing of her own will. Or at least, nothing that extended beyond her will to serve as a means of power.

There was nothing wrong with that… she liked to believe. 

It was like being a Vision to a Vision-holder. 

The sight of the Doctor’s feet ambling away recaptured her attention, and so, she looked up for once. She glanced at him with his hands at his back, his steps taken leisurely as he wandered about the cold, sterile laboratory. She wished she hadn’t though, for it seemed like he knew whenever someone looked at him, for he tilted his head to meet her eyes with a small, sharp smile. 

“You mention being more than fine with being used, but I doubt that it doesn’t bother you, not when you know of his objective.”

He turned to her and she stiffened.

“You don’t wish to see him be a god, am I correct, [Name]?”

The place grew even colder than it normally was. 

She felt as though she was being adjured and criticized at the same time as the Doctor detoured to traipse back to her location upon the table next to the sleeping figure of the Balladeer. Subconsciously, she scooted closer to the latter, his presence her sanctuary, be it awake or not. 

Her lacking response seemed only to serve as reason for him to continue and oh—

“Because once the Gnosis is fully in his hands, then he will have no use for you anymore. And you don’t want that, no?”

—how she hated it. 

“Be quiet.” she mumbled. 

He did not stop. “As far as I know, the Electro Archon created both of you at the same time; him, in the likeness of your mother, but to be a vessel. And you, in the likeness of a Gnosis, you are his heart…”

“Be quiet.” she demanded, this time transferring her gaze to her sleeping twin brother in dire hopes of the sight of him easing the turmoil in her chest. It was rare that she felt willful acrimony, as more often she was influenced by Kunikuzushi.

But now—now she felt its poignant swath within, which left no room to circumvent the intense emotion. The Doctor knew this, of course, he always knew when anyone’s buttons were pressed, it was in his repertoire of endless moxies. 

“... A heart that he’ll willingly cast aside in favor of reclaiming true divinity.” he whispered close to her ear and she snapped.

“I said be quiet!”

Dottore retreated with a smile as he felt an invisible shockwave cleave through the atmosphere, distorting space itself. His laboratory, which was pristine and kempt a mere second ago was now in complete disarray. Broken test tubes and glass lay scattered, metallic tables and shelves were capsized, and charts and papers were either torn or a mess.  

Tiny zips and zaps of electricity surrounded [Name], ensconced by the power that was created in imitation of a true Gnosis. It flickered and jolted like a shield, warning the Doctor not to take a step further—ah, she was an elaborate picture of power. Her [c] hair floated all around her figure, [c] eyes gone, replaced with stark white. It looked like she could float off the ground at any moment or launch things to her will. 

He understood thoroughly her ability, despite being ‘faux’. It was the power the Balladeer often harnessed.

A power that still held hidden potential. 

“Mother? Sister? There’s no such thing as familial bonds to a pawn and a puppet. It is as you said, you are just an expendable pawn.” he spoke, noticing how in spite of the destruction from her rare outburst, the table Scaramouche was laying on remained untouched.

Oh, how she cared for him. The Doctor grinned. Perfect.

“But I can make you greater than you are now.”

The gradual return of the pawn to her ‘docile’ state cemented his conjecture; he had her hook, line, and sinker.

“What do you mean?”

[Name] was seldom swayed by promises. Compared to Kunikuzushi, she had always been a tad more cynical, but the Second Harbinger was a man of his word despite his devious and unscrupulous manner of handling affairs. She knew he was genuine—and that was what made his offer so tempting that she could not resist asking him to elaborate. 

And he gladly did. 

“I’ve only tapped and tinkered with the gears of your ‘twin brother’, and have unlocked a myriad of possibilities. What if I were to do the same unto you—his main power reserve? In theory, you will become far better than what you are now.”

He was not vigilant, he was far too complacent as he trailed his steps back to her, his towering figure peering down from his mask. 

He snapped his fingers. “You mentioned that taking up a physical form and consciousness demands power from your very being, no? This means that if you seal your consciousness and become a simple pawn piece as you were originally created, then he will be able to use your power as freely as he wishes. Without thresholds.”

Sacrifice her consciousness and physical form to be a raw core of power-?

“You will be enough.” he added. “Don’t you want that?”

She sucked in a breath. “I..”

It was everything she wanted; being enough. To her chagrin, she was reminded of the night of her twin’s inauguration as the Sixth, in those chilly, chilly quarters where she took up a new name. She recalled asking the question she dreaded the most.

“And my power is not enough for you?”

She did not have a heart of her own, but she could easily grasp the emotion she always felt whenever she was with him in the aftermath of his tragedies; dread. Fear. 

“Adequate enough.” his voice was still clear in her mind, “Enough to last until my birth as a god.”

That time, the world blanked out on her—she had so many things to say. So many things to ask. 

When had he become so detached from their inherent bond to the point of saying without hesitance that he would disregard her as soon as his godly form was built? As soon as he was fit to centralize the Gnosis he had taken from their [mother] creator? They had been together for so long it was not even an exaggeration.

For centuries, through the names, there had been no one but her and him. And countless tragedies that shouldn’t be named. 

Wasn’t it she that held him close when they awakened in the domain as he shuddered and cried when they realized that they were abandoned? Wasn’t it she that was with him through thick and thin, holding his delicate hand that refused to leave hers when Katsuragi and Niwa welcomed them in Tatarasuna? Wasn’t it she that accompanied him in the Abyss? 

She, that promised that she would not let their story as twins be as tragic as the supposedly blessed encounters they had with humans.

[Name] had done her part, she had done exceedingly well, she knew. He even told her countless times. So why—why, why, why did he even begin to entertain the idea of casting her aside? It was unfair, it was unacceptable. 

Ah! She was to blame. 

There was bliss in ignorance, and she chose to be willfully ignorant. Ever since the death of the child that succumbed to Tataragami, he burned and charred the ambitions he usually had. She remembered watching the little doll in his likeness turn into ash and couldn’t help but assimilate it to him.

For in a way, he and the little doll were one and the same. 

Except, the little toy doll had no heart of silver, but Kunikuzushi had one; her. 

She had refused to believe it then, but the moment he denounced emotions, he denounced her existence. Sure, it wasn’t her that directly influenced how he felt, because even without her in his chest he could still feel—but in essence, wasn’t that the ability of a heart?

To make one feel? So when he anathematized emotions, he condemned her willfully.

Shared dream?

No, it was but a mere bandaid to swathe over her insecurity.

It was only her dream because it was her twin’s. There was only one thing that they shared—the same fear of abandonment. Kunikuzushi had grown strong, he chose not to consort with humans any longer for they were the progenitors of their angst and pain. It would no longer hurt if he was the one to shut down and do the abandonment. 

Where did that leave her? 

The signs were all present ever since the Doctor and the Jester gave him a place in the Fatui organization, in a land of loveless frost. He was set on obtaining the Gnosis, set on becoming a power of pure and utter authentic divinity like he was meant to be. 

And that path did not include her, because she was a simple imitation with a power that was only half the legitimacy of the Gnosis’ power. 

He sought more, and that ‘more’ was something she could no longer provide—or so she thought. 

“Well, [Name]?” she became aware of where she was at the moment and blinked. 

For once, she was not doubtful nor fearful of the Doctor, she was hopeful. And it was a dangerous thing to feel around the guileful scholar, but at that very second, she did not care. In the face of a promise that would serialize and cement her future with her twin sibling, how could she start to care about anything else?

Power… she needed it to be enough. 

If she was powerful enough, then he would not need to cast her away. 

“I–”

There was shuffling from the other end of the room that prevented her from speaking further. 

“What’s all the racket for?” Kunikuzushi was waking up with that permanent scowl on his face, his eyes briefly glimpsing the mess that was the laboratory. He looked confused, but not enough to warrant his actual concern. “What, an experiment gone wrong?”

“No. The doctor just got clumsy.” [Name] responded stiffly as she turned to walk over to the Sixth Harbinger.

The Doctor nodded, raising his hands. “My hands do get rather shaky sometimes.”

A stupid lie that was. 

Obviously, it did not work on Kunikuzushi, but he remained indifferent. The pawn knew that as long as it had nothing to do with him, then it did not matter. 

She held his arms to steady him as he swung his legs off the table, but he shrugged her off. It was rude at worst and nonchalant at best, but with the pitiful memories fresh in her mind and the fear throbbing in her, it affected her immensely. Her fingers twitched. 

He did not notice as he gruffly said, “I can walk fine on my own.”

He could and he did. He was stronger. During the first line of experiments he was put through, he required her assistance to get by, but he didn’t now. Did he remember, or was she the only one who relived those times? 

Who am I kidding? She thought with a lump in her throat as he passed by her without so much as a second glance. He dares not think about episodes that entail any of his weaknesses. 

He had grown so much during the course of the centuries, and he had developed a zealous attitude that was admirable as it was intimidating. Intimidating and fearful on her side, because she knew she was shackled on borrowed time. 

Wordlessly, she followed after the Sixth Harbinger, her head kept straight despite the weight she felt that tempted her to look down. As she passed by, Dottore’s words were quiet, serving to be heard by no one else but the one who had the need to hear it. 

“Think about my offer, will you?”

She did think about it. In fact, nothing else had been in her mind except for the offer he proposed; a promise of power. Whilst accepting it may not vouch for her stay as her twin’s heart, it presented a chance.

And to her, a chance was all she needed. 

“Kunikuzushi,” she called one day after he had overlooked the progress of building his godly form, Shouki no Kami. She had been in his mind when she spoke, and could not deny the sting of alarm when he regarded her with frustration, demanding what it was she required. 

“Scaramouche.” he corrected. 

She conceded. “Scaramouche.”

He had been rather perturbed the last few days because of the Traveler, but that aside, he was delighted. She could feel him agog with the idea of finally claiming the Gnosis, of finally being dubbed a rightful deity. 

“Must you really seek the Gnosis?” she questioned without tact. No beating around the bush, just a direct question, which surprised him, she knew. 

The puppet stopped in his tracks, the shadows cast by the sunset across the colonnade enshrouding him in its twilit curtain. Over the centuries he had been with his sibling, not once had she asked about their shared dream. He thought nothing of it, but he was oddly irked that she did—perhaps it was because of the Traveler that she did. 

[Name] always was the most acquiescent between them. He wouldn’t be surprised if the Traveler’s spiel about morality had managed to dent her thinking process. 

“What do you think?” he remarked, resuming his steps. “The Gnosis is my objective for the last hundred years. Do you think I’d replace it for anything else when I am one step closer to reaching my goal?”

There was silence in his head. For the last few days, [Name] had been quiet, there was nothing new to that, but her current muteness was unsettling.

The bitterness within him gyrated his thoughts and spun them negatively, but before he could speak, she already beat him to it.

“If I’m powerful enough,” he did not like where that phrase was going. “... if I’m powerful enough, will you not take the Gnosis?” 

A look of incredulity arose from his expression as he proceeded to traipse towards the workshop, the towering gears and turning wheels welcoming his arrival. 

“Do you realize how ridiculous that question is, [Name]? I’ve been created for the Gnosis, it was my destiny to seize.” his words were acerbic and factual, but why would that matter when it was the truth? Besides, [Name] was used to it. There was no need to worry. 

“Besides,” he gruffly stated as the elevator took him up to the next level where his godly form awaited, powered by the Electro Gnosis. “We both know you’re a mere imitation of the Gnosis, your power is only ‘half of what is authentic’, a pseudo-power, if you will. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that?”

“I haven’t..” her voice was tiny, but it was firm. 

“Good.” 

He huffed as he was brought to the top floor, wherein he was greeted with the mighty mechanical form that he will soon occupy. The Sages that have turned from their pitiful Dendro Archon were already present, alongside the Doctor, who passed a small wave of formality. 

Of course she wouldn’t forget that piece of crucial information, it was the very definition of her being; a tool used for empowerment. 

He began to walk towards his future, but with each step he took, he found it heavy to press on. His eyebrows furrowed and his chest twisted. There was only one explanation for such sensations and he knew what it was and where it was coming from. 

“Where will I go when you acquire the Gnosis?” her next question made it harder to walk forward. “What will happen to me, Kunikuzushi?” 

“Don’t call me that.” he gritted his teeth. 

The Sages and the Doctor were too preoccupied with whatever conversation they were having to notice his balking. Whatever—he preferred it that way. 

His voice low, he proceeded to snap. “And how am I supposed to know? We may be twins, but we’re two different beings. I’m not in charge of delegating what you wish to concern yourself with after I become a god. Do whatever you want.”

His body felt cold. 

“We’re not different,” she protested. “I’m your heart. I’m a part of you.” 

“Then do you support me gaining a new Gnosis?” he asked. “If we are one and the same, then my ideals are yours and so are my dreams. Tell me, do you want me to be a god to fulfill that dream?”

Silence. The world was slow as he waited, unbreathing. 

When the answer came, he was not surprised—not any longer. 

“I still want to stand with you.” 

It was not a direct answer to his question, but given that he had known her for so long, he knew the implication she endeavored to convey through those equivocal words. To this, he laughed sardonically, feeling his chest twist in some kind of bitter acquiescence.

“In other words,” he chuckled. “No, you don’t want me to be a god. You want me to remain shackled to your inadequate power when you know that I seek more?” 

“I can be stronger!” her voice rose in his head and he faltered in genuine surprise. Not once had he ever heard her raise her voice. But that awe gave way for resentment. 

Scaramouche balled his hands into fists, feeling his anger rise and bubble. There was no use in hiding it because this conversation was pointless! From the moment he burned that child’s house down and left everything in the ashes of time, he had made up his mind—he was resolute in becoming a true deity.

They both knew what that implied. 

“Even if you can, you’re just a phony Gnosis.” the words cut and stung, he knew. He was not reviling her in any way because it was the cold, hard truth. “Why else would she create you in the likeness of a measly pawn piece in the chessboard?”

“Even pawns are capable of attaining majesty!” ah, yes, Guji Yae said that herself, that even pawn pieces could be Queens and any other stronger pieces upon reaching theend of the board, but this was no chess game. 

It did not remove in essence, the fact that his twin’s power was not authentic. There was no ‘end of the board’ for her to reach—this was her limit and they both knew that. 

Baring his teeth, the Balladeer trudged on despite the heaviness in his chest weighing him down. He refused to be swayed by a sentimental sibling. Zealous in his steps, he disregarded the growing feel of dread for he knew it was not his emotion, but his twin’s.

It was a sickening feeling and he despised it, so he forwarded with zero hesitation. 

“Quit it. All I hear is my own twin sister refusing to let me achieve the dream I’ve always chased after.” 

He had hoped they would be on the same page—after all, hadn’t it always been the world against them? Them against the world? It left a hollow feeling inside and he swore he felt his eyes burn, but he did not succumb to such a pathetic weakness. He wasn’t a human, nor did he want to be. 

“Our dreams were meant to be shared.” he heard her voice falter. “We were meant to work together.” 

He never thought her to be this sentimental. But he supposed that after that conversation they had a few days ago, she was more inclined to feeling emotions just as he was [forcibly].

The Doctor welcomed him as he stopped in front of them, his hat tipped down to obscure his expression from their prying eyes. He answered his twin sibling sullenly, in a mere whisper. 

“Yeah, I thought so, too.”

“Kabuki—”

The Balladeer thrust his hand in his chest, retrieving the pawn piece—his sister—from the spacious dimension within him. Immediately, her voice ceased to exist in his mind and all was silent. Withdrawing, he looked at the small item in his hand, glowing a faint [c], as if urging, insisting—begging him to return her where she belonged. 

But he could no longer look at it with distant fondness. Now, there was only betrayal. 

I thought so, too. He repeated his own defeated response in his head as the Doctor stepped forward. 

“It’s time, Balladeer.” Dottore smiled. 

The puppet looked up at him, then back at the pawn piece, which he gripped tightly in one hand, as if willing himself to shatter it into pieces—but he did not. He realized that, even with her gone, his chest was hollow. But that did not matter, for he would soon be filled with a power that could void the emptiness inside. 

“I know.” he scowled, pocketing the faux Gnosis as the Sages adjusted the mechanical body, opening the cockpit which held a number of tubes and other small equipment. 

He stepped into it as the familiar aura of the Electro Gnosis captured his attention, glimpsing it just in time before it was inserted in the center piece of the body that bore the insignia of Electro. He looked back as the Doctor spoke, though the latter’s line of sight seemed to be directed elsewhere on his person.

“We will begin the process. Are you prepared?” Dottore smiled placidly. 

What a stupid question. It seemed like he was being bombarded with tons of it today, but no matter, for this coming dawn was to be a divine advent. 

Scaramouche allowed his hand to fall beside him, subtly feeling the figure of the small piece of faux power in his pocket as he answered.

“Of course I am.” 

He was awakened not as the perfidious Sixth Harbinger that had absconded his position, but as a newly born god. It was a dreamless sleep, filled with the thrum of divine power. 

“Do you remember?” Cloaked from within the penumbra of a false sky, two beings stood—not quite human, yet capable of humanity, regardless.

One so refused to act on it, not any longer, at least. And the other remained in the grey.

The wind was howling with the nightly breeze of Sumeru, cold, and chilly, but it affected neither. A voice spoke, sounding blank. “I do not understand the need to tirelessly search for a heart… when you’re already capable of feeling, anyway.”

“Such outdated information, I don’t seek a heart any more.” Cut a voice so sharp the wind stopped. “I’m looking to crush these filthy emotions. You should, too.”

Silence. It wasn’t the uncomfortable kind, but it was tense with acquiescence, a muted clash of perspectives, ones demanding to be forced upon the other. The response came, sounding bland, if not defeated.

“No.”

That was the last proper conversation they had—it was annoying to recall such things, especially during a time when he was battling against the pesky Traveler who knew nothing but to scupper his plans.

He didn’t know why he would recall it now out of all times, as he heaved breath after breath, the power from the tubes slotted into the sockets of his back not enough to cement his victory.

“I don’t think I will.”

So annoying, so, so infuriating everything was. Everything be damned to hell.

He could almost see her stupid blank face in the back of his mind; he knew she would be disappointed, but when was she not? For someone who put emotions on such a pedestal, she knew only how to be dismayed by him. Well, good riddance.

“I quite like feeling.”

Good riddance, indeed,  as the ginormous mechanical figure that housed a supposed god fell to its knees. What a weakling he was, putting himself above others who he deemed unfit for the world; humans who succumbed to desperation like a beggar to a coin.

Yet there he was, the same miserable picture of the puppet he swore to no longer be, hand outstretched towards a Gnosis meant to be his, but arbitrary fate deemed should never be.

The pain of hitting the ground was dull compared to the various other experiments he went through in all the years being a subject to the Doctor’s experiments—and though he thought his own consciousness would pity and leave him be, it did not.

Through the ringing of his ears, he heard Buer usher the damned Traveler elsewhere. And the fact that they did not once acknowledge his pitiful descent only went to show how he truly was a puppet strung along in the grand scheme of a play dolled up by the fate of this accursed world.

“Scaramouche.”

He could not move, no, he did not have the strength and will to move at the moment. His crushing defeat was like a torrent that swallowed him underwater, flooding his being and forcing him to think of nothing but it as he drowned further.

The Doctor’s figure as he hovered over him, like what a scientist would to a specimen, displayed the kind of hierarchy there currently was in the battlefield meant to be the location of his rise as a god.

A failed one.

“It may be difficult to see, what with your pitiful state right now, but you’re far from being average, are you not? So, you are still capable of response. Now tell me.” The man hovered something above his line of sight. “Is this familiar to you?”

He dared not to feel, he swore not to feel—yet he could not help the churn in his empty chest.

A pawn piece. Its homely [c] glow beckoned him to reach out to it, and he did so with a weak, trembling hand as he struggled against the lapse of his consciousness.

It was a reaction out of instinct—to grasp for something that was his, that belonged to him, that was a part of him. 

But then it was whisked away and he swore it felt as though he crashed to the ground for the second time. He disliked the nagging trepidation in the back of his head as he shifted to adjust with all that he could, suddenly deeming the tubes that made him powerful a while ago now heavy, burdened with the reminder of his shameful defeat in a war that he began. 

What on earth did that Harbinger planned to do? How was he able to take her? 

He took her with him in his newly assembled form. 

“Dottore…” his voice was weak and he hated it. “How..”

What was he going to do– what did he plan to-

The Doctor laughed as he stepped away with a flourish, gloved hand allowing the piece to float above his palm as he recounted a time of long ago.

“My word! But I thought you sought the bonafide power from an Archon and not from some prototype!” he grinned, “Didn’t you say… that you have no need for her? You fallen ‘god’?”

He wasn’t going to-

“Dottore-!”

“I’ve given you what you want, is it not only fair for me to take my share?” resumed the victor in this play. 

And that measly reply was all that poor Scaramouche needed to understand what the Doctor intended to do.

The realization seized him like a serpent, and all of a sudden he loathed his nihilistic, pragmatic view that everything to the world was a simple transaction.

Yes, he wanted Dottore to make his dream a reality. But what did that spell in exchange?

[Name]. 

Hearing the puppet’s spasming breaths made Dottore huff. He initially had no plan to further taunt someone who was already so pitiful, but he could not resist the morbid pleasure it brought him; a puppet who was a puppet through and through.

Being a god was none other than a foolish position unfit for the latter in the first place.

The hand that shot to wrap around his ankle prevented him from taking another step, and instead of feeling irked, he was only amused. 

“What desperation…” he commented.

Deciding to take things up a notch for his own entertainment, he bent on a knee over the piteous Scaramouche, the once great Balladeer, who was now in the shambles of his own mechanical body.

He had to commend him, for despite the obvious asthenia, the fire in those violet eyes were never snuffed out.

“You once wished to be a mortal with a heart, so enlighten me. Between the two of us, who is the closest thing to a weak human being now?” he allowed the piece to float closer to the loser, and he could see the natural effect it brought.

The Balladeer’s easing body, the slight serenity in his expression at the thought of being so close to the being he had with him from the very start…

… And the absolute desperation on his face when the Doctor pulled it away.

“Dottore!” ah, that scream of madness as he clawed the ground, breaths heaved between demands. “Do not… even think of laying a hand on her! She’s not yours! She’s—!”

“Yours, then?”

Dottore asked upon the shambled excuse of a god, the floating item in his possession that glowed a faint [c] and resembled a pawn piece in the chessboard being hidden into his coat.

Over his heart, where it throbbed the same color of [c], almost tauntingly.

“No…” he smiled, kicking off the clasp around his boot, and walking away. Leaving the puppet to the isolation he was so used to. “I don’t think you’ve any right to say that anymore.”

Truly, he wished to stay for a moment longer to watch the show of the desperate Balladeer, whose actions at the moment bespoke nothing of the menacing Harbinger he once was. But the desperation and agony of someone who was once just Kabukimono.

But alas! There were things to be done, and places he needed to go.

Agony—the ugly, distasteful twist of his chest was the sole reason for why he wanted to rid his emotions. To be a superior being incapable of it, for feelings were weak.

He no longer desired a heart, so he threw it away.

Yet at that moment, the godforsaken feeling of having let go brought about a pain and denial that no words could ever describe. He was helpless. Again. To the hands of fate and his own failure. Who was he to be mad, when he had been the one to forsake his heart?

It was beyond hypocritical if he were to ask for it back.

Oh, and where was he now? A measly bug on the cold stone floor.

On shaking arms, he attempted to push himself up. With nonexistent strength, he urged himself to move, but it was the very equipment engineered and produced by the Akademiya that reined him back like a literal puppet on strings—and he was soon crashing back to the floor. But he was nothing if not recalcitrant. 

“No- no, don’t-” the consciousness he earlier begged to be taken away was doing its job, and he realized for certain that he would be rid of it.

To his utter desperation.

“Get back here, this isn’t what we agreed on… !”

Deep in the crevices of his mind there resounded the voice so raw with emotions he wished to burn. An ache—a defect in him that he could not, for the artificial life of him, destroy.

His chest hollowed as the Doctor went farther and farther away, carrying with him, the prototype heart he had replaced for the Gnosis.  

Anything but her— no more- don’t take any more from me!

[How bastardous he was, to forsake her but in the end demand that she not be taken away from him? What irony.]

That time, he wanted nothing more but to curse everything and himself as he shook. With fear or anguish, he no longer knew.

The [c] glow he had been acclimated to over the centuries was vanishing, just like he wanted to, but now selfishly wanted to take back. Was it because he failed that he wanted her again? He didn’t know anymore—he was afraid to know. 

Black spots bedecked his vision, the bile of emotions rising into his throat, threatening to spew in hysteria. Words died in his chest and his voice faded, but still, even with his fading consciousness, he dragged his body across the pavement, fixated on the Doctor’s back, who was now walking away.

Far.. far.. away. 

Scaramouche, Kunikuzushi—Kabukimono raged and cried with a hand that could not reach for anything.

Not his goal of transcending into a deity.

Not his mother and creator, the Archon of Inazuma.

With the last of his consciousness and strength, he cried out. “[NAME]!!” 

Not the heart he called his twin sister. 

His hand fell and his consciousness left, leaving him in the swathe of familiar blackness. One that spoke without the company of the one who knew him most. 

It wasn’t fair—this wasn’t fair. 

But alas, perhaps fatalism had written that, even if he was far from being a powerfless human being, he could still do nothing to determine his own fate.

That of which included his desertion of his heart, his defeat, and the grand consequence to a dream he had ambitiously chased for himself. 

a/n: boop. see you post-irminsul, boy.

also, mc's as "kenkoroshi" is made up of the kanji 剣 [ken/sword] and 殺し [koroshi/kill], so whilst kunikuzushi is literally country destroyer, i opted to have mc be named something that implies her nature as a weapon. 偽物 [nisemono], on the other hand, means 'fake'. or in fatalism context, she's a fake/imitation of a Gnosis.

This has been stewing in my mind for,, a year and a half? Finally out of the basement.

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Take away ‘original sin’ and the gears stop turning

The concept of original sin was the greatest invention since taxation (if you are in the upper echelon of a religious hierarchy). Just as the major oil companies need to support the auto industry, ‘sin’ and by extension, it’s conditioned, psychological reflexes of guilt, inadequacy, fear of damnation, etc., are absolutely needed by organized religion. Take this away and the gears stop turning. It’s not that they need people to be ‘sinful’ per se, but that they maintain the conviction that they are (sinful) and that the religious authorities have the god given authority to discern what defines and constitutes sin and, of course, have the only, exclusive solution to the problem.

So a need is created and then catered to. The physician creates the psychosomatic illness and just happens to be the only doctor in town who has the right pill.

Sam

______________________________

Moon taught that God did NOT create the angels in pairs – meaning that God broke one of his own “creation” laws

Five of the Many Ways in Which the Principle View of the Fall Is Nonsensical

A Korean perspective on Moon and his ‘Fall of Man’ teaching

The concept of original sin seems to have been developed about 200 years after Jesus by Irenaeus and later by St Augustine.

The Garden of Eden story reconsidered

Adam and Eve, the human male Y-chromosome and Sun Myung Moon

Sun Myung Moon’s theology used to control members

Harry Potter vs The Divine Principle

[socialjusticeinamerica]

🤦🏾🤦🏼🤦🏽

Excerpts:

“Launched in 2020 and hosted by pastor Gene Bailey, “FlashPoint” at times looks and sounds like other right-wing cable programs. But unlike Fox News hosts, the rotating panel of conservative pastors and commentators on “FlashPoint” pepper their political analysis with messages that they say come directly from God.”

“Viewers hear regularly from Lance Wallnau, a self-described prophet known for popularizing the Seven Mountains Mandate, a philosophy increasingly embraced on the right that says Christians are called to claim positions of power atop seven key “mountains” of society, including government, education, business and media. “FlashPoint,” which presents itself as an alternative to mainstream news, embodies that strategy.”

“In a January broadcast, pastor Hank Kunneman, another “FlashPoint” mainstay, said the Lord told him that 2024 would be a year of “divine reckoning” and “vengeance against the wicked.” In the months since, the show has portrayed the presidential election as a spiritual clash while depicting Trump as a flawed leader — like a modern King David — who’s been anointed by God to save the nation.”

“Trump has embraced elements of this framing, warning in speeches that the left wants “to tear down crosses” and promising that his return to office would restore Christian power. He also has promised to eliminate the Johnson Amendment, a rarely enforced federal law that prohibits nonprofit foundations and religious organizations — including the one that operates the Victory Channel — from endorsing political candidates.

“White evangelical Protestants remain among Trump’s most loyal voting blocs, with more than 80% planning or leaning toward voting for him in November, a recent Pew Research survey found. Hoping to push that number even higher, “FlashPoint” has called on pastors to start preaching a pro-Trump message on Sunday mornings.

Bailey, the “FlashPoint” host, did not respond to messages requesting an interview.

Rick Green, a regular “FlashPoint” panelist, is the founder of Patriot Academy, a Texas nonprofit that teaches courses about what it calls the nation’s explicit Christian origins — an idea disputed by historians. He told NBC News that he believes many critics of the show’s mixing of religion and politics are ignorant “about the founding principles of America.” Others, Green said, harbor “hatred and intolerance of differing views.”

“This seamless weaving of immersive religious expressions, apocalyptic preaching and right-wing political organizing worries some religion and extremism experts, including Onishi, who pointed to the Jan. 6 attack on the Capitol as evidence of what can happen when people come to believe a candidate has been chosen by God. There’s long been a strain of American evangelicalism that portrays current events as signs of the coming apocalypse. But tying the fate of humanity to a particular candidate is “something new and novel in modern U.S. history,” Onishi said.”

[diedikind]

the first chapter of TGCF “spoils” the entire novel 

The two stories presented in the first chapter / prologue of tgcf act as miniatures of the larger story/theme.

The first story, “Upon the Grand Avenue of Divine Might, A Fleeting Glimpse of Beauty”:

“At the Heavenly Ceremonial Procession, the God-Pleasing Warrior wore a golden mask. Dressed in glamorous attire and with a sacred sword in hand, he played the role of the subduer of evil, the number one martial god for the past thousand years: the Heavenly Emperor, Jun Wu.”

Here it’s hinted that Jun Wu wears a mask but more importantly Xie Lian was “supposed” to become Jun Wu. In the revised version he has the nickname “Little Jun Wu”. Interpreting the idea of a mask in two ways:

Bai Wuxiang wears a physical mask but 

Jun Wu also wears a metaphorical mask insofar as he hides his true identity under three layers:  A. His literal identity as evidenced by “After blood-washing the heavens, he returned to the mortal realm, patiently waited for a while, crafted a new name, and fabricated a new identity. As a 'human,' he 'ascended' once again. All the former divine priests of the heavens perished, leaving no one to know who he truly was, nor did anyone know what he was like before. Now, the widely circulated tales of the ‘Heavenly Martial Emperor'—his origins, anecdotes, amusing stories, appearance, temperament... all are false, intricately woven lies by him!" B. His hatred / what he truly thinks or feels about the common people and the world as evidenced by: “Now, he is the number one Martial God of the heavens, radiant and glorious on the surface. Yet within his heart, he harbors boundless darkness. Resentment, pain, anger, hatred... these emotions need to be released. Only by doing so can he maintain his equilibrium, continuing as the leading Martial God overseeing the Three Realms, instead of embarking on a massacre.” This layer of his mask only comes off after the final battle: 【As the number one Martial God of the Three Realms, Jun Wu's appearance and demeanor are always impeccable, pristine. However, now, stripped of all his aura, Xie Lian realizes that even without the three faces, his complexion is too pale. His features are too sharp and cold, with slight darkness under his eyes, casting an indescribably gloomy air, far from the gentle demeanor presented under the halo of light. But now, he seems more alive, albeit in a languid state.】 C. His dream/idealism. This is the most important layer in my opinion because it relates to the theme of the novel. Jun Wu was in effect “forced” to give up on his dream/idealism / the third path after hitting the wall that is reality. I mentioned in another meta that the crown prince of Wuyong’s vassals accused him of changing and forgetting his original intentions, suggesting that in the pursuit of his dreams, he had deviated from his path, gradually breaking his principles and the basic decency of being human, losing his humanity in his quest to become a god. This criticism was what executed (Zhu) his heart (Xin) rather than anything that hurt his body physically, which relates to the meaning of 杀人诛心 (sha ren zhu xin). By abandoning his own values he conformed to the expectations of society, becoming the God-Pleasing Warrior.

Xie Lian is different from Jun Wu in all these ways. 

He does not accept Bai Wuxiang’s physical mask and refuses to come to his side

A. After 800s years he still lives as Xie Lian. He tells Yin Yu: "Look at me, I've also managed to live up to now with quite a thick skin." He lives in his own skin and own body and does not hide behind a false identity out of shame. B. He does not construct a grandiose image of holiness.  C. He does not give up on his dream/idealism. 

Xie Lian is unlike Jun Wu in all the ways that matter, and Chapter 1 / the prologue tells us this.

【People only had time to glimpse a bird-like white shadow soaring against the sky, before the Crown Prince, holding the child, safely landed on the ground. The golden mask fell off, revealing the young and handsome face hidden behind it.】

The mask fell off to reveal his true self. He is not Jun Wu. He will not follow in his footsteps. 

Why did the mask fall off? Because he went to save Hua Cheng. In other words, he did not become the second White-Clothed Calamity because: 

Intrinsically, he is the type of person who would save the falling child. He is the type of person who would give the common people one last chance by postponing his revenge for three days. He is the type of person who would wait for someone like the bamboo hat guy, the type of person who would search for a flower in a city of ruin, who would hold on to his idealism despite a world that punishes him so.

Extrinsically, people like Hua Cheng and the bamboo hat guy played an important role 

The second story, “At Yinian Bridge, Demon and Immortal Meet”:

【Legend has it, to the south of the Yellow River, there exists a bridge named “Yinian Bridge,” haunted for years by a ghost.

This ghost is terrifying: clad in tattered armor, stepping on flames of karma, its body covered in fresh blood and pierced by swords and arrows. With each step, it leaves behind a trail of blood and fire. Every few years, it would suddenly appear at night, wandering at the bridge’s end, blocking passersby to ask three questions:

“What place is this?”

“Who am I?”

“What should be done?”】

The ghost at Yinian bridge is a symbolic representation of the crown prince of Wuyong. The bridge, the armour, the flames, having been pierced by swords — everything lines up perfectly. Xie Lian only had a chance to answer the first question before they start fighting, but I think the other two are also important. 

“Who am I?” Again, Jun Wu has lost his sense of self hidden beneath the mask. He does not know what he stands for.

“What should be done?” The dichotomy and cognitive dissonance have driven him crazy. He does not know whether he can still turn back after the choice he’s made. 

That said, Xie Lian defeats the ghost at Yinian Bridge. This foreshadows that he will defeat Jun Wu at the end of the novel. 

If you read this from a succession lens it also works, the good ol’ conflict about boys either having to kill their fathers or vowing to never become their parents; it’s portrayed over and over again in modern media such as Daenerys Targaryen saying “I am not my father” but going mad in the end of Game of Thrones anyway or Siobhan Roy growing into her mother in Succession. The trope usually ends in tragedy but TGCF is a novel about dreams and idealism and defeating your fate. 

Anyhow, this is my two cents — that the first chapter of TGCF sorta-kinda-if-you-squint-hard-enough “spoils” the entire novel.