#para: slayer danger

[declinlalune]

Slayer Danger || Andy & Fang

TIMING: current-ish. LOCATION: downtown. PARTIES: @ronin-for-hire & @declinlalune SUMMARY: andy comes across fang on a hunt. CONTENT WARNINGS: parental death.

Andy wasn’t exactly the type to go out after dark. She knew what went bump in the night, and in a town like Wicked’s Rest, there was too much of it to ignore, even for somebody who didn’t hunt. Or more like, refused to. But her sight in the dark wasn’t as bad as a regular human’s, and so she was appreciative of that fact, even if she swore off pretty much everything else about her increased… well, abilities. She hadn’t anticipated running into anything wrong tonight. It was supposed to be simple. Pick up take out for dinner, go home. Until she heard a song of desperate pleas and then another voice. 

She had promised herself she wouldn’t get involved. Not so much out of any kind of cowardice, but more or less to keep herself out of harm’s way. She couldn’t afford a mauling like Kaden had experienced, but it was hard to ignore the person’s voice getting louder. They shouted something and another person responded in kind. Andy decided she’d veer in that direction– take a look. Only, when she turned the corner and looked down the alley, she was surprised to see the glint of what had to be silver, and a fear stricken expression of the victim. She’d just run into a hunter and their target. Shit. “What’s going on?” She spoke before she knew what she was going to say, but anything for a distraction, she decided. She held her bag of sandwiches close to her chest as she peered down the alley, eyes adjusting to the darkness just fine. 

Another night, another job. That was all there to it for Fang. As long as she was stuck in this gods-forsaken town, the slayer wasn’t going to get involved with local hunter politics and shit. All she wanted to do was save enough money to get herself back home. Of course, that was a little difficult, considering she still had rent to pay, especially after the guy who was supposed to get her back home once her mentor’s killer was dealt with suddenly up and vanished. Fang didn’t even get to avenge her mentor, as another local hunter already took care of the damned undead before she could arrive. At least she found their accomplice tonight. That should be a good thing, right? “Plead all you want, I’m sending you back to where you truly belong, monster.”

Fang’s on-the-job voice was as gruff and as deep as she could make it. Coupled with her oni facemask and the silver in her katana, the whole ensemble tended to strike fear even in her most stubborn quarries. There were a few exceptions, though: Like the younger ones that always had a quip about Japanese Batman or anime Batman or something else she didn’t even understand. Even in their deaths, they’d try to meme. This time, this one wasn’t getting that opportunity. “N-no! Please! I didn't know what they were gonna do with the old man! I swear! I was just there to feed! I was just hungry! I didn’t know who he was! If I did, I w-wouldn’t have done anything! I just don’t want to die, man!”

That’s what they always say. Fang has heard it all. If they weren’t doing it for fun, they were just doing it to survive. As nature intended? Fair enough. But the other side of this messed-up coin has to survive, too, and that must mean Fang was the weapon nature intended to ensure that these undead’s prey had a chance of surviving. Or some shit like that. Fang didn’t really care. All she cared about was her own survival. “Nothing that involves you,” Fang growled at the passerby without even turning to her, instead standing menacingly tall over the groveling vampire on their back. “My friend and I are just having…a disagreement. Go home, miss.”

I was just there to feed! I was just hungry! 

Andy had to assume this was a vampire. It could have been any other undead, but she didn’t know enough about them or their vocabulary to understand the differences. There were a handful of slayers at the hunter camps she’d been to, but more often than not, their targets were different enough that they didn’t train much together unless it was in hand-to-hand combat. Andy had learned a few things here and there, as information was useful when traded, but they weren’t her family’s main priority. 

She didn’t care about what she had learned. She had discarded it all back in Tennessee, even before she and Alex were forced to run for their lives. Andy had shed that part of herself as soon as she understood the lack of care her parents had for her sister due to her inability to keep up. Andy saw a person crouched in fear, not a monster. Even if what they said wasn’t inherently true, was it right to cut them down like this? Shouldn’t they at least be able to speak their piece? It was difficult, she realized. Because vampires were mostly aware of what they were doing. Wolves were often out of their minds when becoming destructive, unless they were pushing for violence to begin with. 

This wasn’t her fight, but she couldn’t just turn her back either. 

“A disagreement? It sounds like a lot more than just a disagreement.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, craning her neck to get a good look at the vampire who was on his knees. “Are you okay?” Of course they weren’t, but maybe if she pissed off the slayer long enough to ask a series of questions, it’d offer the vampire an opportunity to leave. Still, she wasn’t sure how to feel about it given the fact that Andy wasn’t sure if he had actually killed anyone while feeding. 

Fang growled at the woman, turning to her in annoyance when she continued talking instead of getting out of her hair. At the sight of her, however, she had to take a quick second or two. Fang had seen a lot of pretty girls in this town, but a redhead with freckles? Now she’s seen everything. Everything gorgeous that is! She felt her heat skip a beat or two, but managed to rein herself in, growling again to resume her more hardened persona. Hard to lose that in the presence of her quarry, especially with her oni facemask on and her katana strapped to her back.

“Keep your distance,” the slayer muttered, holding out a hand as a way to keep her back, to discourage her from approaching any closer. As far as Fang knew about this town’s bloodsuckers, their so-called vampires, they’re easily tempted by the smell of warm blood. She took another quick look at the woman, just in case, eyeing her from head to toe, her eyes wandering all over her body. In search of open wounds and stuff. Yeah, that’s it. Least she wanted was to give the vampire another fresh body to ‘vamp’ over. “This…is no ordinary man.”

“P-please! I’m not like the others! I only feed on the bad ones!” The vampire turned to face Andy, her eyes pleading for mercy, though the lower half of its face was drenched in blood, crimson dripping off of its chin. Fang had found it feeding on an unconscious man in an alley, a perfect place for predator to consume its prey under the protection of shadows and the musky smell of urine. Sometimes, Fang hated having better senses than her peers. At least she thought it was better. 

Clenching her jaw, Fang wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her sword ever so tightly. Slowly, she began to remove it from its scabbard, the vampire whimpering at its impending doom. Eyes narrowed on her quarry, the slayer bid the other woman one final warning, hopeful that she would take it and go. She was too pretty to see what comes next. It wasn’t the most progressive of thoughts but that’s what you get when you get raised by her late mentor. “Go… You should go.”

The slayer was warning her against the vampire that she had cornered and Andy felt something in her twist. It was easy to act blindly when somebody thought they were doing the right thing. Andy only knew about vampires from the slayers that had attended the same camps as her, and even then, she’d felt sorry for them. They had been human once, and later made into something out of their control. Why should they be punished for it? Like all other undead, they were unjustly murdered. But did it make it okay for those same entities to do the same to others? Andy struggled with the answer, though she didn’t ask it aloud. 

The vampire’s mouth was covered in blood– Andy could see it under the pitiful night sky, clouds above them, their weight in condensation threatening to pour down at any moment. Andy wanted to help the vampire, but how could she do so if she didn’t know the details? The slayer drew their sword out and she heard the sound of flesh ripping against itself as the blade was removed. The slayer told her to leave again and Andy thought to do so, but the look in the vampire’s eye– she couldn’t just leave it, even if it had hurt someone. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Andy murmured, voice barely cutting through the darkness. “It doesn’t need to be like this. You can…” Can, what? Andy wasn’t sure how to get through to the slayer. She knew that she was an oddity, all things considered. She had rejected hunting the moment she understood what it was, and being in a situation where she could think for herself due to the traumas experienced, she had turned a blind eye to revenge, to continue the cycle. But Andy knew that if it weren’t this vampire, it would just be another. But Andy could maybe help this one. “Just this once. Forget about it, let her go.” 

Fang considered the attractive woman’s words. Forget about it, about all this? Let it go? Let the asshole who helped kill her mentor go? Just like that? Yeah, right… The slayer had traveled through oceans, through cities, to avenge the old man, left the only life she’d ever known behind, and risked everything she had and she was in this new world. She had to make numerous sacrifices, including parts of herself and a future away from this life. So many nights soaked in tears and blood and pain.

But it was all worth it, for the old man wasn’t just her mentor. He was like a second father to Fang. He didn’t need to adopt her all those years ago, to teach her the ways of the hunter, to gift her all that she needed to come to terms with her parents’ deaths at these monsters’ hands or claws or tentacles. He could have just left her to rot in an orphanage in a foreign land, forever a victim, a survivor, of forces she would never understand, for reasons she would never comprehend. He deserved better than to get killed by some gaijin vamp and left to die on the cold, empty streets of midnight Ginza. 

“Just this once…” Fang muttered as she slowly returned the sword to its scabbard, her hand steady, though her heartbeat was erratic. At this, the blood-soaked vampire heaved a sigh of relief. Live to see another day, yeah? Or another night? Well, not live live, per se. More like unlive, but that’s not an actual word is it? But just this once, right? And just like that… The slayer suddenly, and swiftly, slashed the creature’s neck, decapitating it in one fluid motion, its darkened, rotten blood spraying all over the street, as the blade was then swung against the air in the opposite direction, removing as much of the vampire’s blood on it through sheer momentum, before it was return to its sheath. 

Just this once… Fang gave mercy to a loathed enemy in the form of a quick, painless death. She closed her eyes, took a deep breathe, and turned to the woman one final time. “Forget about it,” she muttered before she started to walk away, in the opposite direction from her. “It’s gone.” And so, too, should she.

For a brief moment, Andy saw her father in place of the slayer. Instead of a katana, it was a knife, and instead of a vampire, it was a harmless beast she had been ordered to kill but hadn’t been able to follow through on. The slayer’s hesitance, for only a second, had been sidled with a sort of hopefulness, but it shattered the moment that the woman raised the sword, cutting clear across the vampire’s throat. The noise it made was sickening, and bile rose up her throat. 

She half-expected to see her father then, too, with an unwavering gaze from unseeing eyes. But the body turned to ash almost instantly and Andy was left behind with it, only a few feet away as the slayer sheathed her weapon and retreated. The sound of her footsteps akin to that of a war horse. She was close enough to grab. 

Andy whirled around, staring at the woman’s back. “Why? Why can’t you people just—“ forgive. Not everyone was like her. Not everyone had been forced into adulthood at an early age; though she could guess that this woman had been, only in a way that was fundamentally different than her own. She grit her teeth and looked behind her towards the pile of ash. “She begged you, and you still killed her anyway.” It was a series of complicated feelings that began to filter through her, and she wasn’t sure how to identify them or how to separate them. She couldn’t understand, but at the same time, that was why a part of her wanted to believe that the slayer had been in the right. This was not her battle, but it still didn’t sit right with her. 

Fang should have just left already. She could have, but the moment was too raw, too soon, and she was still lingering on thoughts of unresolved vengeance for her late mentor’s death. You people? The slayer barely considered herself a person anymore. If she ever was, the person she had been died with her parents all those years ago. What her late mentor saved, what the old man trained, it wasn’t her anymore, it wasn’t a person anymore, it was just a shell of her former self, a remnant of what she could have been, a weapon meant only to kill. 

But did Fang want to turn out like this? To lose her humanity, her childhood, her entire life, so she could go around saving ungrateful strangers from the monsters they didn’t even know existed? Hell, no. Putting down abominations might be cool to some, on paper, but she’d trade this life for a chance to stay as boring as possible with her mom and dad. She’d endure getting chased with a slipper or a clothes hanger, and even suffering the Asian parents stereotype of being “forced” to play the piano or violin and getting good grades and being a doctor or engineer, than being out here every god-forsaken night, hunting down disgusting nightmare fuel so she can pay her shitty rent. She’d rather be Eddie Huang than Asian Batgirl.

“It was mercy,” Fang growled without looking back at the woman. She wanted to make it suffer, the same way she had when it helped kill her mentor, the same way the old man did when his life was cut short in a dirty, empty street like he was nothing more than a rabid animal, like he was one of them. If Fang herself was one of them, would become one of them, she believed a quick death would be better than continuing on as a mindless monster that would kill to survive. Ironic, considering she was technically one, but she was oblivious to that fact. “It won’t harm anyone else. It won’t kill anyone else.” 

If Fang believed in life ever after, the promised paradise, she would say it was now in a better place. But she didn’t.

It was mercy. 

Andy wasn’t sure how much of that was true. She didn’t know a whole lot about the undead, only about what it took to kill them. She didn’t like thinking about it, because unlike the beasts she’d been taught to hunt, more typically it was a human face staring back at her. She couldn’t understand how that would make it any easier for anyone. In fact, it made her feel ill. 

“How? Where?” Her voice shook slightly and she watched the woman from behind, taking in the frame of her body, committing it to memory so that if perhaps she saw somebody with the same stature later, she could tell her friends to watch out. It was hard to trust that a hunter of one specificity wouldn’t go after another individual just because of the rumored hurt they may cause. 

“They,” Andy quickly interjected, “won’t, because now they’re dead.” It was easy to put herself in the shoes of those who still hunted. Of those who believed their actions to be the rightful ones. Not because she agreed with them in the slightest, but because it was all she’d ever seen be put on display. It was the only thing she could remember about her parents, and she detested them for it. “They begged you not to, but you still did it, anyway.” She wondered if their last words would haunt the woman, or if she would sleep peacefully knowing she’d put down another supposed monster. Andy tensed slightly, hands curling into fists. “I could pretend to understand that you thought you were doing the right thing, but I’m not sure I can do even that.” Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to piss off a slayer, especially when she didn’t personally know them.

“But sure, it’s none of my business. People being murdered in the street. What if you had gotten it wrong?” She thought about the vampire and the way they had pleaded with the slayer, of how she had begged to be understood. “What if there was some truth to her words? What then?” 

Fang paused. For a moment, she thought about explaining herself, about how she knew the monster she just ended personally, about how she had been tracking it for months, every night she could since she left Japan for this god-awful town with these dangerously bleeding hearts. She thought about arguing that it was more efficient to slay the monsters to keep the innocent people safe, as her late mentor used to say, the same mentor the monster she just ended had a hand in putting down, but then again, she didn’t even believe that herself. At least not anymore. 

There were no longer innocent people, according to Fang. Everyone was capable of sin, however way you perceive sin, and therefore didn’t deserve protecting. Not like one should an innocent child. Everyone can protect themselves these days. Can die for all she cared, too. Not unless they had money to pay for her skills, for her training, for her sword. Same could be said for the strange woman crying over some monster who’ve killed more than she probably knew. What point would there be in arguing then? 

“Then don’t,” Fang growled again. “Forget it. Forget me. Forget any of this ever happened. My business in this town is done. What your monsters took from me… Months don’t get anything wrong. This town is cursed.” The slayer heaved a sigh of relief, as if a massive weight was lifted from her shoulders, before she continued walking away.

Andy’s frown deepened as the woman continued to walk away. It was clear there’d be no getting through to her. Maybe it was a little stupid, putting herself in the position she was, especially because most hunters didn’t take kind to those who no longer practiced the lifestyle. But this woman didn’t know her, and she could come across easily as a concerned citizen. She forced her gaze forward, not wanting to look back at the pile of ash that had become the woman begging for her life. 

As the slayer spoke, Andy found herself rigid. She knew the types of things that could take. All her life, things had been taken, but she still had Alex. What if this had been a ranger? And a wolf at the end of the narrow alleyway begging for their life? It wasn’t any different than the reality, because at the end of the day, these were people, not just what they’d been made into. Andy scoffed at the woman’s attempt to gain understanding from her. “Sure, I’ll forget it all. Don’t worry about it.” It wasn’t like she could call anyone on the slayer, but at least now she knew who to be wary of. Even if she hadn’t shown her face, Andy was sure she’d remember the voice. 

[clayanddust]

Cadena's Clemency (Metzli + Clay)

Participants: Metzli Bernal (Vampire-Jojo), Clay Hale (Slayer, Tapir

Location: Crest Works Art 

Summary: Clay tracks down a group of Cadena Clan Vampires only to find them attacking Metzli outside their gallery. Sometimes you rush in too fast and end up fighting to save an evil crime family’s heir, .....it happens to everyone right?

Content Warning: Head trauma tw

Icy mist blocked out the night sky in a silver haze. Even on this rooftop Clay could only see into the next alley before the brick buildings and darkened storefronts of East End vanished in the winter fog. It meant the Slayer had to keep closer to the group of vampires he was tailing then he would’ve liked. Clay quietly moved across the closely packed group of snowy rooftops, the group of vampires distant blips of undeath at the edge of his Slayer clairvoyance.

Word had come up the grapevine from Mexico that forces from the Cadena clan were on the move and ranging far from their usual sphere of influence. Clay wasn’t an expert on vampire politics outside of the feuding clans that’d terrorized Appalatia, but this newest group hadn’t entered the city with the stochastic violence and feeding of your usual Lost Boys blood junkie types, and instead moved with focused purpose. Clay figured any objective the Cadena clan saw as worth sending squads of foot soldiers up some random beach town in Maine needed investigating.

Clay had caught up with his quarry at Crest Works Art, a local art gallery located in a Manhattan-style townhouse of red brick and black iron railings. Normally, the Slayer would’ve simply surveilled until he had more information, as superhuman immortals were plenty dangerous on their own without the advantage of numbers and their clan’s lethal training. But the Cadena squad was already in the process of dragging someone through the snow to behind the gallery building.

Clay descended the fire escape from his rooftop vantage point and jumped down to the alley, hitting the snowy cement at a run.

Metzli had said bye to their employees and were just finishing up final walkthroughs when they heard footsteps approaching the door. Death permeated from the group, and they growled. Never bothering to lock the front entrance was really proving to be a bad idea now. They’d never thought to lock it before, finding comfort in their skills as not only a vampire, but a more than capable fighter. “We’re closed.” Not turning to face the culmination of idiocy, they scribbled a few more check marks on their clipboard and set it down. They turned slowly, eyes glowing crimson and fangs sharp, displayed for the group as they removed their suit jacket. “Leave.” Authority bled through the single word, almost as much as the vampires would before being turned into piles of ash.

Some of the vampires faltered, taking a few steps back, as if they weren’t sure if they were supposed to listen or not. “No. Vinimos todo el camino hasta aquí y tú vas a venir para atrás con nosotros. (No. We came all the way here, and you’re coming back with us.)” One of the vampires spoke and came forward, trying to impose himself. Metzli met his gaze with a stoic one, suddenly lunging forward before he could react and twisting his neck. His body went limp, the death being very finite when they ripped his head off. “Who’s next?” They glared, standing fully erect and tilting their head in question.

Dead blood stained their clothes, skin, and floor, streaking as the group gathered their wits and attacked together. Metzli removed a stake from a back holster they began to wear after the incident with Emilio. Out of the 10 vampires left, they took out two more, ash parading the air as they thrashed to get away. It was no use. The snow depressed beneath them as they were dragged to the back of the building. “We’re gonna make this last.” The woman from before, whom they had met during their mission in Mexico spoke up. “You…” Metzli said, voice full of shock. She was Eloy’s second in command. “Yeah, me. You took our master, and now you’re going to pay.”

The threat was interrupted by the plop of a snowball smacking against the back of a vampire's head. “¡Qué mierda!” But he had barely turned before the cursing  climbed into an agonized scream. The smell of moist boiling flesh filled the alley as the bone of the vampire’s skull lay bare amidst bubbling gore. He fell twitching to the ground, scarlet eyes wide and unfocused in pain.

Clay was spotted a moment too late, pouring a vial of holy water onto a snowball and clenching it between his fingerless gloves to freeze the snow and holy water together into a compact mass. In only took a second for one of the vampire’s to be in a full spring towards the Slayer, moving with the lethal grace of a predator, but it took less than that for Clay to finish his baseball pitcher windup.

“Heeeeeyoooooooo”

The holy water snowball slammed into the vampire’s face. Skin fizzled and frothed as the vampiress careened to the ground mid-stride, clutching at her blinded eyes

Clay knew the downed vampires’ wounds were merely temporary, but their captive was his priority. Two more captors lunged at him with blows that’d couldn’t shatter bone, but the Slay tore the simple necklace with a small cross out from under his shirt. The crude metal symbol blazed with the molten orange of welded iron so close to the vampires, stark against the winter gloom. The undead reeled back with a pained hiss.

Clay dashed across the snow  to take his place in front of Metzli protectively, upraised cross a fragile barrier against the enraged vampires now circling around the pair like wolves. “Leave em alone or I’ll dust you fuckers,”  the Slayer said threatened, the vampires clustered to close for the Hunter’s senses to discern his rescuee also carried the curse in their veins.

Metzli winced only slightly as remnants of the impacted snowball landed on their hand. There was no mistake in the scent of his blood or how well prepared he was, this man was a slayer. They swallowed thickly, analyzing the situation and realizing he didn’t know their condition matched his opponents. By being surrounded by them, they were covered. “Thanks…” it was a low mutter, too difficult to get out after being beaten for a few moments. “Thought I was a goner for sure.” Slowly, they stood up, eyeing the looming vampires that began to surround and close in.

“You take half and I take the other?” Metzli asked, dusting off their damp clothes from the snow and loosening their tie to take it off. One of the vampires lunged after Clay with a knife, but they stepped in and wrapped the tie around his neck to restrain. The swing barely missed as they whipped him around and body slammed him to the ground with a heavy thud. He was nothing in a matter of seconds, his own knife being forced into his chest. Before long, everyone jumped in. “Metzli is mine. No one touches it but me,” the lady vampire hissed and Metzli couldn’t help but scoff. “It? Seriously?” She swung carelessly, too consumed by her anger to fight properly. They took to dodging and assessing the fight in its entirety, taking special care to watch Clay should he need assistance.

“Look diggin the confidence an’ all but maybe you should ….oh uh…ok then, go off I guess.” Clay’s concerns about a civilian throwing themselves into the fray against superhuman immortals trailed off as this Metzli person saved him from a shanking with wardrobe-jitsu. “Thanks.”

Clay didn’t have time to contemplate his new ally’s prowess before he was fighting for his life. A nearby vampire unsheathed a Mexican Cuirassier saber. The long blade with its ornate hand guard was an archaic weapon, but brutally effective with vampiric strength behind it. The Slayer dropped to one knee to narrowly  avoid being decapitated by a swordstroke whose sheer force whistles through air, only to have to leap back and roll away from an unrelenting follow-through  of elegant bladework, each strike threatening to dismember him.

Morelos was a square-shouldered man with several inches on Clay. He had a broad oval face topped by a straight cut of black hair and a dimpled chin that jutted out beneath his fanged frown. When his commander declared that Metzli was her prey alone, the ex-soldier scowled disapproval at the irrational strategy but didn’t contradict her. He let out a soft hiss as the Slayer slipped beneath and away from his sword-strokes, only for his pale lips to twist in satisfaction for his blade came away wet with scarlet stains as Clay ducked through the icy fog into an adjoining alley.

“You heard her,”Morelos commanded the three underlings that still remained combat ready. “Eliminate the Slayer, back me up draw your pistols ..”

A bloody knife whistled from the silver mist and buried itself hilt-deep in the forehead of one of Morelos’ subordinates. It would have merely been inconsequential to one of the undead, except for the caustic Slayer blood that sent the clanmate into screaming convulsions. Morelos spared his clanmate only a glance as they thrashed on the ground, in agony from the acidic blood that the Slayer had intentionally slathered on the thrown knife. Morelos advanced into the fog with his saber at the ready, glowing scarlet eyes scanning the haze for the Slayer, two clanmate with drawn pistols at his back.

Slayers were always known to be more than capable fighters. Growing up was all training and learning certain codes and rules to live by, to hold close to their heart. But they were surrounded, and Metzli knew better than to think either of them would be okay on their own. Eventually, they’d end up having to help Clay, but they’d avoid that as long as they could. Protecting an enemy, one that loathed their existence, was against every moral they had. If one could call them morals.

Metzli charged at the woman, dodging her knife as best they could. She managed to slice their skin a few times before they twisted her arm. “Fuck off!” They slammed her against the wall, hearing her skull crunch between their hand and the wall. Now that she was out cold, they whipped their body around and tackled down one of the men holding a pistol. His gun went off, sending a sharp ringing in their ears. The bullet had just barely missed Clay, who was still fighting almost enthusiastically, like mine is the impacts were affecting him. Even his heart was calm. How could that be? It intrigued them, and they wondered what he’d seen. Perhaps he was similar to them? Perhaps the two could be friends. And wouldn’t that be funny? A slayer and vampire as friends. That was too much to ponder on for the time being, though.

“Watch out!” Metzli watched as the other vampire had his gun aimed at Clay. With a headbutt to the nose, their fighting partner was groaning and crying, too distracted with his own pains to stop them from tackling the slayer down as the bullet clipped through the chamber and hit their shoulder. They winced, staying on the ground and covering the wound to stem the black ooze. It was wrong, a vampire saving a slayer, but they had to repay the man despite what nature’s rules were.

For a moment Clay was in a state of fight or flight. Direct contact with undeath made the Slayer’s clairvoyant senses flare to the point of pain. Clay rolled from where he’d been tackled into the snow and kicked back up to his feet with trained economy of motion, machete already descending towards the vampiric ambusher before realization paused fighting instinct. The undead presence he’d just felt against him was Metzli. Clay could smell the necrotic rot in the blood oozing from their wound, a gunshot wound they’d taken in his place. “You’re a..”

But the Clay had to whirl around to narrowly parry a saber that'd swung out from the frozen mist, the clang and rasping screech of metal saving him from Morelos' attempt to decapitate him from hiding.

“Who even is Metzli to you,” Clay snapped as he ducked beneath another deadly arc of Morelos’ riposte and took a swipe at the vampire’s right leg. “Did they paint your Vampy Godfather with a hairlip or something?”

But the Slayer’s blade only chopped off a single leathery wing as Morelos’ form disintegrated into a dust devil of bats. The miniature tornado of furry bodies surged around Clay in a storm of darkness wings before the vampire abruptly reconstituted behind the Slayer, Cuirassier blade already in a downward stroke towards the mortal’s shoulder. “You still don’t get it, do you,” Morelos realized.

Yet the vampire was forced to reel back in pain as Clay’s freehand brought up the cruciform necklace, metal burning bright with ire. The path of Morelos’ sword went wide and the Slayer pressed his advantage, machete in one hand and holy symbol in the other, wielding this contradiction of sanctity and brutality to force the vampiric swordsman onto the backfoot. “I fucking swear to God, if this is another But Aren’t You The Real Monster After All cliche,” Clay groused as he maneuved the vampire against the alley wall, “I’m gunna garlic spray you.”

Morelos had to dissipate into bats again to avoid machete dismemberment, but this time the Slayer was ready for the chiropteran Houdini routine and was on the Vampire the moment he reformed. “Idiot,” snarled Morelos as his graceful bladework met the calculated savagery of Clay's chopping swings in a clang of metal. “Has it dawned on you that you’ve just risked your life to stop vampires from killing their on kin,” the vampire said, mist swirling around at the curving wake of his blade as it descended and ascended toward the mortal in a deadly unrelenting rhythm. “Do you even know who you’ve rescued?”

For a time Clay didn’t answer and for a minute the Slayer and vampiric knight put all their intent into murdering each other in this foggy alley behind Crest Works Art, the Slayer’s acrobatics keeping time with the Vampire’s continuous dissipation and reconstitution as swarms of bats, each side searching for his final opening to end this.

But then Morelos saw it, an uncertain flick of the Slayer’s dark eyes in Metzli’s direction. “Just leave this to us,” Morelos offered, splitting into a vortex of bats as the Slayer’s blade whistled through the air he’d occiped a nanosecond before. “The Cadena Heir isn’t yours to protect Slayer. Just walk away, we’ll end this threat for you.”

Clay did not dignify the rhetorical drama with a response, watching the bats carefully as he began to spin the cross necklace in one hand like he was winding up a bola. The Slayer had been counting the seconds it took Morelos’ to reconstitute very carefully throughout the fight, and now had his mark. With a snap of the wrist, the Slayer lobbed the holy symbol straight into the mass of bats as they recongregated to reform Morelos’ body.

Morelos’ scream echoed through the fog as he reformed with the cross partially buried inside of him. The vampire’s sabre fell to the ground as he thrashed in agony, burning from the inside out. “The heir! You damn foo,” but the vampire's suffering was ended by Clay’s headsman's chop. The knight became just more dust in the snow.

Clay exhaled, sweat streaming down his face as turned and walked towards Metzli, machete still drawn, holding the wound in his side with his freehand. “Is it true,” the Slayer demanded wearily. “Are you the Cadena Heir?”

Metzli’s eyes widened and stared at the machete that threatened to jam straight into their nose. Clay was just doing his job, but they had hoped against hope that maybe he’d make an exception. But even they knew he’d be stupid to let them live while thinking they were the heir of a dangerous clan, even if they took a bullet for him. “I don’t want to be the heir,” they groaned shakily. The bullet was lodged into their shoulder, and it burned. “I killed Master Eloy, but I—I didn’t know they’d look to me to take over.” Tears began to fill their tear ducts. Not out of fear about the slayer, but memories of torture and agony. “I just wanted him to stop coming after my friends, to stop coming after me. But now this is happening. People either want me to lead or dead.” Their words were coming out frantic, completely emotional. “All for a man that ruined lives and hurt everything he touched!” They practically shrieked at the last sentence.

They moved backwards, trying to get away from the blade. It loomed over them like death. Death wasn’t supposed to show its face, not until it was time. It was an ominous and creeping entity, waiting and watching behind you while you existed. Metzli was beginning to think that it was their time, and they desperately didn’t want it to be. But maybe it was okay that it was. All they did was cause problems. All they did was hurt their loved ones. They kept being told that it was okay, that they were willing to take that pain. It just never seemed right. “I guess this is where you kill me?” They stopped moving backwards, wincing at how their wound sent sharp needles down their arm. “I understand. It’s your job. You kill monsters. You kill problems. And…” their eyes shut tightly, stopping the flow of tears. “I’m a problem.”

Clay slid the machete into the sheath on his back. The Slayer could feel the signatures of the other wounded vampires retreating with their leaders disposed of. One by one the blots of cold oily undeath at the edge of his consciousness down the alleys and across rooftops, until the only presence Clay could feel was beside him. Soon they were alone in a foggy alley full of snow and vampire dust. The frosted brick walls and alleyways, reduced to just tactical obstacles in the thick of fighting, now loomed around them, reminding Clay of his smalness at they seemed to extend endlessly upward into the gloomy grey sky.

Clay became acutely aware of his own mortality as the flood of adrenaline began to leave his system.  Pain was throbbing fire in blade wounds on his side and right shoulder. He shivered in the cold, blood loss seeming to bring winter into his veins. For a time Clay held the cross necklace at the ready, to ward off any sudden lunge from the vampire. Yet, as he watched the vampire weep and back away from him, the Slayer placed the necklace back around his neck and tucked it under his shirt.

“You aren’t the main problem I see right now,” Clay said slowly, voice deepening in weariness as the numbing high of adrenaline left his system. “The one I do see is that we need to get that bullet out of your shoulder or you’ll regenerate around it,” he pointed out softly. “And that’ll keep hurting like a motherfuck later.”

Metzli looked and felt dumbfounded when Clay put his machete away, even more so when he noted how the bullet in their shoulder needed to be taken care of. He wanted to help them, he wanted to help a vampire. Was this a new pattern for them? Being targeted by hunters and slayers just to thwart them with…emotions? Their attempt at decent morality? They weren’t sure what it was, but it kept saving them. “You’re hurt, too. You should probably take care of yourself first.”

Their brows creased together, confusion covering their features. They weren’t truly concerned, but they knew how to appear to be. “I got myself covered. You should go.” For a few moments, they struggled to stand, but they eventually got to their feet and made an attempt to walk back to their gallery. “If this is a trick, well…that really sucks. But if it’s not…thanks. I’m trying to get this under control. Stop them from coming here and ruining shit.” Metzli kicked some of the bodies, dragging a few of the solid ones into a pile so they can be set ablaze. That was the only way to ensure they’d no longer be a problem.

“What’s the point of tricks when I could’ve beheaded you earlier,” Clay pointed out, helping drag bodies towards a central point on the pile. Metzli was right, he needed to see to this bleeding, but things would get complicated if the cops found these undusted bodies.

“Sooooooo,” Clay effused as he lopped a vampire onto the pyre pile after rifling through the undead’s pockets insearch of weapons, wallets, jewelry, and identifying information. “Not to be a hater but that doesn’t seem to be goin well so far, and I also vibe with not having Cadena squads rolling into town,” he said. “Would you wanna cooperate with getting rid of that problem…or?”

“A slayer and vampire working together? Is this Buffy?” Metzli was a little more relaxed, making jokes and not worried about death being near anymore. “I’m down to help. No problem there. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not your typical vampire. I’m…” They dropped the final body into the pile, rubbing their neck and sighing awkwardly. “I’m trying to be better. Our sire, the fucker I killed, he was a real piece of work. Torture, manipulation, you name it. He did it so he could have control.” Their hands gestured to the pile, relying on Clay to have the tools to set it ablaze. It was his job, so they just hoped they were right. “I guess this is your part. I generally stay away from fire.”

Clay poured sacred oil from a danter onto the bodies, the smell of gas and olive olives mixing with the stench of blood. Clay produced a zippo lighter and soon the bodies were burning merrily, pungent oils mixing with the acrid grainy scent of dead flesh disintegrating into ash.

“Fits what I’ve heard about the Cadena Elder,” Clay admitted, crouching down to warm his hands in their fingerless gloves by the blaze. “Killing you wouldn’t bring back those you’ve hurt anyway,” the Hunter pointed out with pragmatic dispassion. “I’d rather work together to protect the living right now rather than try to get vengeance for the dead.”

The fire and putrescent smell made Metzli’s eyes water as they watched the bodies burn, watched them turn into nothing. Long lives ended right before their very eyes, another piece of Eloy’s saga turned to dust just as he did. Again, by their hand. They wondered if they’d ever be done with the erasure of his mark on the world. “Yeah. He…he deserved what he got.” The urge to leave and hide away crept up, and so they turned to leave. “I own this gallery. Should you require my assistance, I will be here. Just ask for Metzli. This probably won’t be the last time we cross paths even if you don’t request my help.” Their shoulders faced the building, relief making them droop considerably. They were minutes away from dropping down into the loft bed. The door creaked as loud as their bones felt like they might, but fortunately their aches were silent to normal ears. “See you later, Slayer.”

Hours later Clay leaned back on the simple cot in his room, tightening the last of the gauze-laced bandages around his left shoulder and ribs. The recuperating soldier idly tossed a baseball in his free hand. It clunked against the ceiling, the neighbor’s floor, before Clay caught it again on the fall. Again and again the Slayer tossed the baseball, thunking in time with his thoughts.

“Fuck! Hale, swear to god…stop or i’ll fucking kill you! Son of a bitch, this time I’ll….”

His neighbor's fury brought a smirk to Clay’s face. Clay caught the ball one last time before turning it over in his hand, finger feeling the working of the stitches along its sides.

Clay looked at the phone on the floor beside his bed. Clay knew who and where the Cadena Heir was. Their very existence was dangerous, a potential point of conflict or unification for a dangerous vampire clan.

Dr. Lastrapes’ number was on that phone. Through Saul’s connections, Clay once had the privilege of attending one of Lastrapes’ secretive lectures on thanatology in Guadalajara. One call to Lastrapes would eventually trickle through Slayer communities across Mexico.

Saul trusted Lastrapes and Clay trusted Saul. The smart play was clear here.

But Clay kept rolling the baseball over in his fingers, phone remaining untouched in arms reach.

“Thanks…thought I was a goner for sure.”

“I guess this is where you kill me?”

“I understand. It’s your job. You kill monsters.”

“You kill problems. And…“I’m a problem.”

“I killed Master Eloy, but I—I”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not your typical vampire.”

Clay reached to touch the bare skin of his right pectoral, where a Cadena Clansman’s bullet would have torn through if Metzli hadn’t taken it in his place.

“I’m trying to be better.”

Clay reached over and clicked his phone on silent. “Glad one of us is,” the Slayer murmured before shifting onto his uninjured side and letting exhaustion claim him

[orbit-intl]

210129 KStyle Vol. 1 ― ORβIT, the 7 members are finally together. “The short time we can be together... We are enjoying it with lots of laughs.”

Vol. 1 ― ORβIT, the 7 members are finally together. “The short time we can be together... We are enjoying it with lots of laughs.”

ORβIT is a Japanese-Korean group composed of 7 unique members. They released their long-awaited debut album in November last year, to which many fans responded with enthusiastic support. 

It has almost been a year since ORβIT was formed and announced on February 9, 2020. We asked them about the steps that led to the decision of forming the group and about the reason for their career choices as an artist.

ENG TRANSLATION BY ORBIT_INTL  Source: KStyle News DO NOT RE-USE, REUPLOAD OR RE-TRANSLATE WITHOUT PERMISSION 

― The 7 of you are finally together for the first time in a long time, but how are you spending your time together? 

HEECHO: We spend our private time just relaxing together. Watching movies late at night, having deep talks. 

YOUNGHOON: We watched the movie “Midnight Runners”, it was interesting. We watch movies where we need to hold in our laughter.

YOONDONG: We watch Netflix together, but just simply being together is fun.

HEECHO: It’s been a long time since we’ve spent time together, so we try to have a fun time together. We can’t be together for a long time, so we are enjoying it with lots of laughs. 

TOMO: We made grilled chicken skewers with a special grill for it. Heecheon-san and I were the ones in charge of the grill (laughs). Other than that, Jun and I read manga often. 

JUNE: As for “Jujutsu Kaisen” and “Demon Slayer”, we even went to watch the movie and cried together. I also liked “Chainsaw Man”, which Tomo introduced me to. 

TOMO: I like the “Weekly Shonen Jump” (weekly manga anthology) type of manga, and my all-time favorite one is “Hokuto no Ken”. I’ve been re-reading it lately, and my inner child is getting excited. My favorite move is “Hokuto Shichishi Seiten” (Seven Star Points of Death). Even the sounds when the enemy loses are funny, like the famous ones “abeshi” or “hidebu”, but there’s also minor ones like “nani wo para~” (the word “what” followed gibberish), it’s the funniest. (laughs)

― You spoke at the last interview that you wanted to eat Yoondong-san’s cooking, but did that come true? 

SHUNYA: Yes, we ate it! It was so good~!

YOONDONG: I made them kimchi fried rice.

HEECHO: Wait, when? I didn’t eat any (laughs).

YOUNGHOON: When everyone left for BUGVEL’s recording, Shunya, Yoondong and I ate together.

HEECHO: We were eating takoyaki that time at the studio. I love takoyaki.

― There were some comments from overseas fans on the last interview, but are any of you studying any foreign languages? What word did you learn lately?

SHUNYA: I read Korean vocabulary books sometimes, but I watch a lot of Korean drama and I’ve been starting to understand some words that are said a lot in drama. 

HEECHO: My hands are already full from learning Japanese and I haven’t been able to learn other languages. I still need to work on my Japanese…

TOMO: But all 3 Korean members have been naturally studying Japanese, so they are very good in Japanese.

HEECHO: All the Japanese words that the members have taught me were all bad words… (laughs). 

TOMO: Hey, that’s the other way around! (laughs) I ask them to teach me Korean, but they always teach me bad words. 

HEECHO: (laughs). The world out there is dangerous these days, you need to know some strong words (laughs). 

TOMO: Other than bad words, they taught me how to say 삼겹살 주세요, which means “can I have pork belly?”

SHUNYA: (Heecho whispers something in his ear.) Just now, I learned how to say 그렇게 하면 죽도 밥도 안돼, which means “it’s going to be half-baked if you continue like this”.

TOMO: This is the type of thing they teach us (laughs). 

YUGO: 멋있지？I look cool, right? (laughs)

Everyone: Yugo is so cute~!

JUNE: The word I learned lately is “kaibyaku”. It means the beginning of the world, of time. I found it while searching for a more complicated word during the lyric writing process because the expression felt off and I thought there was another way to say it. 

HEECHO: For me, it’s “mugi to kome no nimousaku” (double cropping of rice and wheat). I learned it while studying a kanji practice book for Japanese grade school students and it left a strong impression on me. 

YOONDONG: I learned the word “kyakuashi” (customer traffic). The meaning was different from what I intended to say, but I learned the word. Is it a bad word?

TOMO: No, you can use it as “customer traffic increased, or decreased”. It’s not a bad word. 

YOUNGHOON: For me, it’s “waruagaki wo suru” (futile resistance). I resist fate in a futile way. I learned it while writing lyrics. 

What about the debut date? “I felt emotional at the CD shop… It didn’t feel real.”

― You debuted on November 11, but how does it feel like to have debuted?

HEECHO: Nothing much changed just because we debuted, but we got here as a result of pursuing what we wanted to do. That is why there wasn’t any big change, but I hope we can continue with the same mindset.

YOUNGHOON: After releasing our debut album and seeing everyone’s reactions, I thought a lot about our situation and our responsibilities and it made me feel like we need to make even better songs and show an even better version of ourselves in the future. We are preparing for our next release with utmost effort. 

�� For Heecho-san, Younghoon-san, and Yoondong-san, this is your second debut. Did you give any advice to the 4 others?

HEECHO: I think it’s just a number, and there isn’t much to mind about just because it’s our second time, but there are things we can say because we have experience debuting once previously. It is the first time (for the Japanese members), so I’d like to teach them what I know. 

TOMO: I think they do have a certain emotional leeway. There were hardships until we reached our debut, but there were a lot of moments the 3 helped and cheered us up. 

YOUNGHOON: If we could do more activities, I think there is more I can teach them, but there isn’t much we can do amidst the pandemic situation… Later, when we will be able to do more, I’d like to relay more of our experience. 

― How did you spend your debut date?

YUGO: Nothing much different, we just practiced as usual.

TOMO: I think we were doing voice training.

HEECHO: The Korean members were learning choreography and practicing dance. 

YOUNGHOON: Yoondong was buying pyjamas that day (laughs).

JUNE: We were just doing lessons as usual even though it was debut date, so although I was internally excited like “today is debut date!”, I was a little bit sad that the lesson menu was hard as usual (laughs). 

SHUNYA: The Japan members had the chance to go to CD shops for greetings. I was surprised seeing that the store decorations were, very, big? It made me really happy. It didn’t feel real. 

YOUNGHOON: I saw the pictures too and it made me really happy that the shop staff wrote descriptions of our songs in so much detail. If we have the chance, I want to cook for the shop staff (laughs). 

Everyone (laughs). 

YOUNGHOON: I also read the messages from EαRTHs in the notebooks placed at the CD shops. There were a lot of messages written in hiragana so that we understand too, it made me happy. EαRTHs are really nice. 

Struggles experienced especially because they are self-produced. “Thankful for all the support from many”

― The album “00” was definitely a challenging work, like you spoke about it in the previous interview. A lot of comments from fans were sent to Kstyle too. How were the reactions from fans after the release?

Everyone: Ohh~! (Clapping)

YOUNGHOON: We’re very grateful and happy. Every song was made with a lot of attention to details, so I hope EαRTHs listen to them a lot and enjoy it.

YOONDONG: My wanting to make something better and to perfect our performances got stronger, especially because we debuted. 

― Last time, we asked you about the recording process. How were the parts separated within the songs, and how were the solo songs and unit song “Mizutamari.” (written by Yugo-kun) chosen?

HEECHO: First, we all sing equal parts and then we adjust as we sing because some members suit some parts better. I chose the parts, but nobody complained. 

SHUNYA: ORβIT’s absolute leader (laughs). Heecheon-san knows everyone’s uniqueness and attributed the parts, so it turned out really nice naturally. 

HEECHO: For me, the part I thought over the most while making the album was attributing the parts. As for the solo song and unit songs, we just went with whoever wanted to do it. 

YUGO: I thought “Mizutamari.” could be the three of us (Yoondong, Shunya, Yugo) who don’t sing chorus parts often. I attributed the parts as the writer as well. It was my first time writing lyrics and I had never thought of doing it before, but after becoming part of ORβIT, I’ve been wanting to try new things such as piano as well. It’s a memorable song for which I challenged lyric writing for the first time. The track was composed first, onto which I wrote lyrics. 

― In Younghoon-san’s song “MOONCRYSTALPOWER”, the sole Japanese part amongst the Korean lyrics was also a hot topic. Many said that it’s a very “Younghoon-san like” song. 

YOUNGHOON: I always get the comment that the phrase “yuusha no sakebi” (a hero’s scream) is very “funny”, but I meant it in a serious way (laughs). At the time, there was a manga I liked a lot and I also thought of the word “boukensha” (explorer, adventurer), but it became this in the end. The lyrics are about a hero parting ways with his friends and waiting until they come altogether, but it felt like ORβIT and EαRTHs. I thought that maybe fans will understand if I put it like this, so I wrote the lyrics like that. 

HEECHO: It’s Younghoon’s scream, in the end (laughs). 

JUNE: When Younghoon-san asked me about the lyrics, I listened to him and gave advice. Every time people tell him that the lyrics are funny, he blames it on me and says “Jun said they’re nice!” (laughs). 

YOUNGHOON: It was all good as a result! (Younghoon and Jun exchange a hard handshake)

―You released from an independent label and even produced your goods on your own, but was there anything hard during the production process?

HEECHO: There were a lot of hard things, but we don’t want to make excuses about it because it’s something we chose to do. It was hard, but I think this was a good way to do it. It’s something we were able to achieve because of the members and staff we have now. 

TOMO: We separated the tasks between the 7 of us, and Shunya thought a lot about the goods and the CD jacket art. 

SHUNYA: There are many things I was able to learn because we are self-produced. For example, there’s a lot of scheduling in order to meet deadlines for production and other small tasks too. It has made me realize that making music isn’t just about singing, but there are a lot of people behind it who support it. I am glad I was able to realize this by releasing from an independent label. 

JUNE: The 7 of us are the ones on stage, but there are a lot of people behind it that you cannot see… Our work can only be done with the support of many, so we are very grateful.

ENG TRANSLATION BY ORBIT_INTL Source: KStyle News DO NOT RE-USE, REUPLOAD OR RE-TRANSLATE WITHOUT PERMISSION

[false-north]

Stranger Things: Resurrections (bringing back Billy...)

Since the Harringrove fandom has begun to demonstrate an amazing resilience to certain outside forces (thank you fandom <3 <3), I threw together a list of (some) resurrection precedents and possibilities, all “borrowed” from other actual media/TV/film canons adapted and applied to one Billy Hargrove: (Please do feel very free to add, expand, use, WRITEALLTHEFICS, etc. at will).

‘We Can Rebuild Him’: Still stuffed with remnants of the upside-down in his blood stream, the Russians scrape Billy up on their way out and rebuild him. Because alien world super serum goes a long way in building a super soldier (and unlocking more gates).  (Late 80s bonus points if they rebuild him with metal and wire that renders him part crude cyborg). (Re: Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier, Captain America).

Old School Resurrection: Unable to accept that Billy is gone, Max and Eleven tap into the upside-down to bring him back to life. Suddenly re-thrust into his old life that still includes systematic abuse at the hands of his father and the responsibility of facing up to all his past mistakes (including all the lives he took while possessed), Billy’s not exactly grateful to be back. (Hardcore 80s points if they forget to get Billy out of the coffin first, thereby making him have to claw his way up to the surface alla every 80s zombie film). (re: Buffy, Buffy the Vampire Slayer).

Super Powers Save the Day: Another secret child product of the MKUltra style lab experiments, Billy’s powers of cellular regeneration take a minute to repair that much damage, but revivify him in the morgue in a crazy cool special effects scene where he zips back up his body…(Also canonically explaining how a kid who gets shoved around by his father that often manages to still remain unbruised and shirtless as much as he does). (80s bonus points if filmed like a late 80s body horror film). (re: Clair Bennett, Heroes).

Cloning: Having been “impregnated” by the mind flayer (first with the ‘Alien’ face hugger reference, and then with the strange moment of the alien tentacle pushing into his chest…), Billy tries to kill the monster by sacrificing himself. Only the US government isn’t too keen on letting that kind of alien biotechnology go. They scrape up Billy’s body and clone him—a process that maintains the alien DNA that they can then harvest (and making Billy “patient zero” in their new attempts to use human hosts to create more).  Now confined to a laboratory cell, Billy has to fight to regain his own autonomy, not an easy feat when the military-industrial complex has labeled his body as government property. (Meta-Homage bonus points on account of Alien IV being one of Winona Ryder’s films…) (Ellen Ripley, Alien IV: Resurrection).

The Fake Out: Having made enemies of everyone in high school and knowing he’s in danger from both the law and his family (aka Neil), Billy takes the opportunity to fake his death. And yet, he can’t seem to stay away from Hawkins and the people he secretly cares about. (Re: Alison Dilaurentis, Pretty Little Liars).

Stranger Twins: Billy comes back as his brunette twin cousin to move in with the Hargroves and inexplicably looks exactly like him and might actually be him, because Hawkins is a weird dreamscape space (re: Laura Palmer, Twin Peaks)

Conspiracy!: With his body already broken and dying, Billy sacrifices himself to save Eleven, only to turn up (8) years later in a maximum security prison as a pawn in a larger government conspiracy (Cold War 80s bonus points for just being a larger government conspiracy…) (re: Micheal Scofield, Prison Break).

Deal with a “Devil”: Feeling guilty that they couldn’t save him, and unable to comfort Max, Elle uses her astral projection powers to make a deal with the Mindflayer or some other entity in the upside down to bring him back, but like all para-supernatural contracts, “the devil” wants to make a deal…(80s bonus points for really playing up any element of the “Satanic Panic” crisis) (Dean Winchester, Supernatural).

Time Travel: The alien tentacle pushed into his chest created a gateway that sucked his consciousness into the future, creating the dopple!Billy that greeted him in the upside-down, setting off a strange time line of events in which future Billy has to travel back in time to the 1980s to warn of or even jumpstart the Mindflayer takeover, as such a series of events is actually the only way to ultimately defeat it. Sacrificing his past-self to kill the monster, the ‘Billy from the future’ finds himself stuck in 1980s Hawkins, a changed man haunted by the things he’s seen (and the things he will see). Only now that this apocalypse has been averted, the things he can see in the future keep changing, not all of it for the best... (Essentially rendering Billy “The Party’s” Seer.)  (The Terminator (kind of)).

Alien Parasite: Closing The Gate weakens the Mind Flayer, but it doesn’t kill it, leaving the MF trapped inside the body of seventeen year old Billy Hargrove. Now both need the other to continue to survive, and Billy needs to learn to find some kind of harmonious compromise with his other-worldly parasite (Eddie Brock, Venom).  

(More theme-borrowed than direct references:)

(Psychic) Coma: After the events of the mall showdown, Billy is left in a coma with a healing fractured mind. The only problem, his psyche effects the world around him as it processes all its demons. As the gang gets sucked into the weird hellscape of Billy’s internal life made manifest on the streets of Hawkins, they must help him fight all his monsters before his lifetime of aggregate trauma destroys the town.

The War isn’t Yet Won: Billy’s demise was greatly exaggerated. The calvary came in, the ambulances scooped him up, and he’s fine now—physically. But the experience changed him, has left Billy quiet and hollow. He can still feel the mind flayer everywhere, phantom crawling over his skin. There’s only one other person who can even begin to understand—Will Byers. Everyone thinks the two former MF meat puppets are simply suffering from PTSD, but Will and Billy know better. They’ve seen the future; what the Mind Flayer has in store. The two form an unlikely alliance as the only two in town who know the war isn’t over.

(My personal head cannon for Season Four):

Nightmares on small town streets: After the events of season three, the gang starts dreaming: weird twisted nightmares that seem more vivid than the waking world. What’s more, they all meet up in their dreams: Will, Steve, Eleven, Dustin, Nancy, Lucas, Max. etc. who all physically went to sleep in different towns/places, find themselves in a sick simulacrum of Hawkins at night. What’s more, is that when they call each other up the next day, they all remember it: they were there. Soon it becomes clear that this dank space is even more dangerous than they ever could have anticipated. Whatever happens to them in the dream space follows them through to the waking world. And something is after them. They need to figure out how to defeat the shadows, but until they do, there’s only one solution: don’t fall asleep. (Meanwhile, Max and Eleven see Billy in the dream world, seemingly living at the Hargrove’s house and caught in a robotic glitch cycle of abuse at the hands of a nightmarish hybrid of the Mindflayer and his father. They become determined to bring this Billy back with them, unsure if that’s even possible, but Max refuses to leave him there. But waking him up and pulling him out is a much bigger task than they can handle alone. They bring Steve.).

(i.e. I actually do really want a Nightmare on Elm Street season…).

(And really, if all else fails, we saw *one* Billy go down, yes, but what about *second* Billy…?)

[theweekinarrowfic]

Completed Arrow Multichapters on AO3, September 8-14, 2019

NOTE:  I’m now crossposting to https://theweekinarrowfic.dreamwidth.org/

Need more Arrow in your life?  Why not try one of the multchapter fanfics recently completed by our talented fic writers?

Olicity

Dark Beauty by OliversMuse (19/19, 14 Sep 2019) - Meet Dr. Oliver Queen, local psychiatrist who specializes in PTSD due to his own experiences. He has finally settled into a normal life and his practice is going well. Then one day in walks Felicity Smoak, local mob boss. She is looking to change her ways, to escape the violence and death that has been her reality for far too long. She wants to change but her business keeps dragging her back to that dark place she is trying to escape. Can Dr. Queen see the light inside of her and help her change her ways??

and we're somehow caught up in a web of lies by inlovewithimpossibility (46/46, 14 Sep 2019) -  After their encounter with the Count and Moira's release from prison, Thanksgiving is upon the residents of Starling City but when an article arises in the gossip magazines that throws both Oliver and Felicity under scrutiny, the two of them somehow find themselves caught up in the most elaborate lie they've told. What was supposed to be a relaxing week at the Queen cabin in New Hampshire for Oliver and a week celebrating Hanukkah and Thanksgiving alone for Felicity turns into a week at the cabin of acting, the Queen women and bubbling not-so-platonic feelings.

Kerosene and Desire by SmoakingGreenArrow (5/5, 12 Sep 2019) - An Olicity Notebook AU with a darker twist.

Roll Over Beethoven by OhhMyyDarla (4/4, 12 Sep 2019) - Summary- Signing her name on the dotted line, she did what any other person would do. She Saved him.. she just hopes her husband agrees with what she did. Looks like the Queen Family has a new furry member.Adventures with Beethoven and the Queen FamilyI MPORTANT NOTE IN CHAPTER 4!!!

Run Away With Me by DMichelleWrites (15/15, 11 Sep 2019) - This is basically everything I hoped season 7 would be after the prison arc, but unfortunately we didn't get to see it.Join Oliver, Felicity, their friends, and family as they navigate their lives together post-Slabside. They really can have it all. Watch them balance being heroes, parents, and still manage to hold down day to day jobs. Enjoy their slice of maximum domesticity, and take a peek into their home life together with their four children. Part 7 of Hiatus Drabbles

The Cheese Festival by cruzrogue (2/2, 10 Sep 2019) - Ray Palmer invites the Queens to his home up on the mountains to do some business. The town is having their annual Cheese Festival and they have booked a double room suite but unknown to Oliver and Felicity, Thea cancels and all rentals are booked solid she even has Ray and his fiancé Anne agreeing to happily house them for a few nights. Prompt: Only one bed/hammock- Olicity summer sizzler bingo card 1. Part 4 of Who Knew?!?

Felicity the Vampire Slayer by KimBug (12/12, 10 Sep 2019) - Felicity Smoak had a plan: graduate from Starling Prep with honours, go to MIT, start a tech company that will change the world. But that was before a stranger she meets at a bus stop tells her there are vampires out there and she’s the only one who can stop them.A vampire slayer AU based on the 1992 movie Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

1 8 1 3 by Vixx2pointOh (2/2, 09 Sep 2019) - Trapped in a loveless marriage, Felicity had resigned herself to a life of avoiding her husband and pretending to enjoy needlepoint. When a journey to accompany the dreadful man presented itself, she never considered she might meet a man worth falling in love with and risking it all. Part 1 of A Picture Tells

Other Ships/Characters

Walk You Down The Aisle (One Shot) by abcsupercorp (Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Oliver listed as character, 2/2, 14 Sep 2019) - Oliver has an offer for Kara. Lena asks something from Alex. "I already talked to Lena about it, and she's okay with it, in fact, she thinks it's a wonderful idea. So, Kara Zor El Danvers, as your best friend, and brother. I would like to offer to walk you down the aisle" Oliver told her. "Alex, you're my future sister-in-law, but before that, you were my family more than Lex or Lillian ever could be" She began, She saw Alex's eyes water, she knows, "I talked to Kara and she thinks it's a wonderful idea.. " she said, "Alex, I choose you to walk me down the aisle"  Part 12 of The SuperCorp Kiddos! Part 1 of Arrowverse Trio

I Told A Star by Vert (Flurkin) (Oliver & Thea, 3/3, 12 Sep 2019) - Thea Queen knew her brother was alive. She just never expected him to pop up, staring at his gravestone. Or... You know. Pop up at her house, period. I don't own Arrow: I can barely keep my Social Studies notes straight, forget a TV show! Part 2 of Different Encounters

In family we trust by Bl4ckHunter(Laurel/Oliver, 9/9, 11 Sep 2019) - When someone from family becomes chased by darkness, how far would the rest of the family go to protect them?  Part 31 of The Dar(h)k War Saga

A Tale of Lost Souls by Bl4ckHunter (Matt Murdock/Elektra Natchios, Sara/Oliver as side pairing, 11/11, 10 Sep 2019) - Team Arrow joins Sara in New York as they and new allies face a deadly alliance between their dangerous enemies, while struggling with a decision, whether certain people can be redeemed.

Reality Checks and Ignorance by bubbly_turtle333 (Thea-centric, 2/2, 09 Sep 2019) - When Ollie was away, Thea thought she had it bad. She has no idea what he went through.  Part 1 of The Ollie They Lost Isn’t The One They Found

Flash, Amigo o Enemigo by Vengador_Dragon (Barry Allen/Kara Danvers, several Arrow characters listed, 45/45, 09 Sep 2019) - Con la llegada de los dominadores Barry recurre a sus amigos para apoyarlo, pero tras saber de Flashpoint todos desconfían de él salvo Oliver, Kara, Wally, Iris, Felicity, Joe y HR. Barry y Kara empiezan una relación en todo esto y ambos acuerdan irse a Tierra-38 cuando los venzan, Oliver va a tratar de mantener a su amigo en Tierra-1, ¿Pero podrán lograrlo con Sativar iniciando su ascenso a Dios? Part 1 of Enfrentando al destino

Harry Potter and the Shadow of the Demon by ArlyssTolero (Harry Potter-centric, several Arrow characters listed, 19/19, 09 Sep 2019) - A mad plan two decades in the making has finally come to fruition and Ra's al Ghul, formerly Harry Potter, awakens in his 14-year-old body, intent on cleansing the Light and the Dark of those corrupting them. To do so, he becomes The Phoenix, and soon discovers that there is a new responsibility on his shoulders: to lead the magical equivalent of the League of Assassins.

[little-summers]

Joy | The Cruciamentum (1/2)

En los días de tormenta, su madre solía decirle que no debía temer de los rayos, los truenos o la fuerte ventisca porque se trataba de Dios y todos sus ángeles lamentando la muerte de un ser querido.

La noche que falleció su hermano, la luna brillaba con toda su majestuosidad y los días que siguieron, el sol se autoproclamó el soberano que obliga a sus hormigas a deshacerse de sus ropajes bajo su claridad de justicia. Imaginaba lo que hubiera dicho su hermano de haber vivido para ver su propio funeral <no hay que tomárselo como una ofensa indignante, sis, si no como un halago por ser diferente y especial.> Casi podía verlo frente a ella, con sus espesos rizos castaños, el brillo de sus ojos, idénticos a los suyos, y la sonrisa permanente que cubría su rostro.

Su hermano había sido la personificación misma de una belleza singular. Un Apolo con labia y sentido del humor entrañable. Por eso mismo, nadie esperaba que fuese el primero de los hermanos Summers en morir. Todos esperaban que ese honor se lo llevase Joy. Al fin y al cabo, ella era la hija de la Cazadora, la Elegida para cargar con el cargo que eso conllevaba. Por eso, fue un duro golpe para todos. Nadie esperaba que el hijo de Buffy Summers muriese en un accidente automovilístico. Un accidente tan estúpido como inesperado. Nadie que cargase con semejante apellido sobre sus hombros debía sufrir una muerte tan… humana. ¿Ser mordido por un vampiro? Por supuesto. ¿Decapitado por un zarpazo de hombre lobo? Claro. ¿Morir en un estúpido accidente de coche?

Jamás.

Y, aún así, mientras Joy corría todo lo rápido que podía, abriéndose paso entre la maleza que le rozaba las piernas con sus pinchos, pensó lo cómodo que esa muerte debía haber sido. Sencilla, rápida. Un párpadeo y su hermano había dejado de respirar.

En innumerables ocasiones quiso preguntárselo. A esa alucinación o presencia fantasmal que la acompañaba allá donde fuera con la apariencia de su hermano.

Le hubiera preguntado: “Does it hurt? Dying. Does it hurt?”

Tropezó con una rama y cayó de bruces al suelo. Tenía tantas ganas de llorar que por poco permitió al sollozo escapar de su garganta.

“No,” pensó para sí misma. “No.”

Si abría las compuertas, no estaba muy segura de cuando las podría cerrar. Y, en esos momentos, las lágrimas no la pondrían a salvo. Al contrario. Harían reír a su enemigo.

Lo último que recordaba antes de ser secuestrada era una melena pelirroja. Una pelirroja con un péndulo en la mano. Su mirada captó enseguida el brillo hipnótico que emanaba. Y, como una estúpida, había permitido que la hipnotizase. Sólo existía una razón para hipnotizar a una slayer. Giles se la había enseñado en esas largas y tediosas horas de estudio en el sótano de la casa.

“The Tento di Cruciamentum is a test for Slayers. Watchers are charged with injecting the Slayer with chemicals, such as muscle relaxants and adrenaline suppresors, which gradually weakened her powers until she has the average physical abilities of a human, if not even weaker. Watchers are ordered to keep the Slayer unaware of the test, using hypnosis so she wouldn’t notice the injection.”

Y eso había sucedido. Cuando despertó, en un ataúd a varios metros enterrada en el suelo, el pánico se apoderó de ella. Le costó sudor y lágrimas abrir un hueco en la madera y no morir ahogada cuando la tierra cayó sobre ella. Pataleó y luchó, abriéndose paso hasta que su cabeza rompió la superficie y pudo aspirar una bocanada de aire fresco. Una bocanada de aire fresco que se sintió como si miles de cuchillos la atravesaran por todas partes.

Por supuesto, estaba él.

“The Slayer would be taken to a location selected by the Council and pitted against a particularly dangerous vampire.”

Sin sus poderes, había sido una pelea injusta. El primer golpe le abrió una brecha en la frente. El segundo, por poco la dejó inconsciente.

Y su hermano no estaba si quiera presente para darle su apoyo moral. No era que él pudiese hacer mucho en su calidad incorpórea pero hubiera estado bien tenerlo con ella. Significaría que no estaba sola en ese inmenso bosque que parecía no tener fin.

“I am sixteen years old,” pensó para sí misma, con el corazón latiéndole desbocado. “I don’t want to die.”

[pucketknife-blog]

FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF~ self para [PG]

↪ TAGGING: Noah Puckerman ( @pucketknife ); mentions of Tzion and Calev Puckerman and Chevalier D. Syerus, Alderman of the SGA; ↪ LOCATION/TIME: NYADA Campus, Apeliotes #101; May 7th & 8th; Monday morning through Tuesday morning; ↪ SYNOPSIS: After the verdict, Puck has to figure out what comes next; ↪ WARNINGS: language and slight signs of depression, if any, but nothing major;

Monday morning starts just like any other day, before dawn with a quick run through the empty Campus, nothing but a few faces in sight (either drunk people still unaware the weekend is over or other runners, some people he recognizes from his slaying courses and people he sees on a regular basis, who wave or nod at him as he passes them by). Still, Puck doesn’t usually pay attention to anything but his music and the path ahead of him, the burn of his muscles and the rhythm of his breathing.

That's why he’s surprised when the music stops with the incoming call. He stops and answers as he walks to a water fountain and takes a sip, and it’s even more surprising to hear no one but Tzion Puckerman on the other end of the line. His uncle never calls, and his voice is stern even through his headphones, clearly unhappy to be having this conversation.

"What is it?" Puck asks, his breathing fast due to the jogging as he begins stretching, "Why're you callin'? Did someone die?" It’s not a joke. He couldn’t think of any other reason why Tzion would bother picking up the phone. For a moment, he thinks of his cousins, wonders if he should be worried, but his uncle is fast to blow him off, tells him everyone's okay and that there’s something else he’s calling about. 

"Then what is it? It's not like you're one of those people who just calls someone when they miss-"

"The Assembly's gonna call you in a moment," Tzion cuts him off, clearly not amused with Puck's little one-liners, "You're suspended without pay."

Puck freezes, and if the phone had been in his hand, he would’ve probably dropped it.

"The fuck? What the-"

"There was a trial,” he says, “something about a fire. You forgot to mention it, I assume. They said you killed some Lusus. I'd say good job, but, y'know. I'm not happy about the news."

He's most definitely not happy. Clearly. But neither is Puck.

"I didn't do shit," he replies through gritted teeth, adrenaline flowing through his veins, anger filling up his chest.

"Well, it's clear you didn't," Tzion barks back. "You didn't cover up your fucking tracks, Amram. And now it's our Clan that has to pay for your mistakes."

"That's not-"

Puck can't finish his sentence before Tzion is talking over him again.

"You were supposed to be better than this," he voices, low and dangerous. It reminds Puck of his own father. It makes him flinch involuntarily. "You were supposed to be the next big thing."

"Tzion..." He's frozen, unable to know what he's supposed to say, what he's supposed to do.

"Don't," the head of the Puckerman Clan states, and Puck can almost see the disappointment and anger painted on his face. "Don't dishonor our Clan any further with your excuses. Don't call us, Amram."

The call ends and the music comes back, but Puck feels like he's been beaten up with a bat, left bloody and broken in a ditch.

His life is over, and for what.

This cannot be happening.

He goes straight back to his dorm and checks the news, punching the keyboard keys loudly until the headline appears in the NYADAily.

"The end of an era..." It sure was.

Puck swallows hard as his eyes fly through the article, the monster inside him growing as he reads more.

Fuchs’ claimed that he had also been brainwashed by Lusus Naturae, a trickster who took advantage of his position to use his home as a “base for [their] illegal happenings.” Fuchs says he was also tricked into seeing his home as a “picture-perfect dollhouse. [He] was unaware of the decor or how it had been changed.”

Bullshit.

Defence lawyer Jennifer Walters, L.L.M, has acknowledged that Fuchs kidnapped various Lusus Naturae victims ranging from selkies to lamias, but successfully countered the prosecution’s claim that the defendant used enchantment magic and killed several victims in premeditated assault. 

Bullshit.

Evans and Puckerman had been charged with involuntary and voluntary manslaughter

Bull

Evans, under the prosecution, is getting off with a $20,000 fine for model behavior. The jurors believed it to be a honest mistake. 

Puckerman, however, has been demoted to an unknown rank in the Slayers’ Guild, has been stripped of his weapons and badge, and is on unpaid leave until further notice as internal investigations are underway.

Shit.

His knuckles go white as he holds onto the edge of his desk.

One trial member, who does not wish to be named, says it was “deserved… That brute was no different than a thug.”

His computer claps loudly as he closes it shut and he throws the chair across the room, feeling the tears prickling at his eyes, a painful yell toring his throat.

He should've never tried to help.

"You have to understand, Cal," Puck hurries his words, tries to find a way to explain himself to his cousin that calls as an official Secretary of the Guild to let put the final nail to his career's coffin. He tries to stop the unavoidable ending even when he knows neither of them have a voice in the situation, but he can't make himself stop.

"I don't know what happened. You have to tell your dad, it's not my fault." 

In other circumstances, he'd rather be caught dead than begging, but right then and there, he can't do anything but. "Please, Cal. I did nothing wrong. Nothing. I was set up by those fucking lawyers, I was protecting someone else! I was protecting myself! You have to know I'm not lying, you have to know, he's the one who should be paying, not me!”

"I'm sorry, A," he says, and even if his voice is warmer than his uncle's, more human and almost pitiful, almost caring, it doesn't make it any better. "There's nothing to do. One of the Aldermen is heading your way right now. Just hand him your badge and weapons. Don't make it harder than it needs to be."

Puck can't even reply, and he bites down on his lip hard.

"I'm really sorry," Calev repeats with honesty.

He feels the salty taste of tears on his lips.

"Yeah," he nods to himself, voice cracking only slightly. "Me too."

It's past midday when Alderman Syerus knocks at his door. Puck has finally managed to compose himself, but as he sees him there, his soul falls to his feet. The man asks for his things, and Puck is almost ready to plead his case, tell him exactly what happened in Fuch's house, tell the whole story again and again until he understood he was making the wrong call, he was punishing the wrong man for something he was forced to do.

He’s abotu to open his mouth when he remembers Tzion's words.

Don't disgrace us any further;

He remembers Calev's apologetic voice.

Don't make this harder than it needs to be;

So, he doesn't. He gives the Alderman his badge and his favorite gun, the first one his father ever gave him, the first one he's ever held, the first one he's ever killed with, and lets him know where his truck is, how he can get the rest. 

Just like that, his whole life comes to a halt.

Puck stands on the threshold long after Syerus leaves, eyes fixed on the elevator in which he disappeared as he tries to figure out his next step.

When he closes the door behind him, he still doesn't know what to do. He’s at a blank.

So he sleeps.

He wakes up in the middle of the night, the clock ticking loudly in contrast to the silence of the empty room. He's glad Finn's not here, that the school had chosen such a perfect moment to do their exchange program and that he won't have to talk about the result of the trial and his future for at least a week or two. His stomach is empty, growling, but he eyes the little fridge from his bed and groans, turning towards the wall as he curls into himself.

Maybe later.

He stares at the ceiling, eyes fixed in the white roof on top of him. His alarm had gone off a while ago, but unlike any other day, he's still in bed. The sun is up, shining bright, warm light through the open window, and Puck's gaze is blank as he replays the day of the Brownstone fire in his head.

He wonders what had been said about him in the trial; how he ended up without a future while Fuchs didn't get his magic revoked; how Sam had gotten away with a $20,000 fine while he had been punished for doing nothing but his job.

He had done everything he thought right, keeping a low profile after giving his statement, keeping cool and keeping to himself. He avoided all kinds of conflict and applied himself to school, studying hard and even getting good grades (at the very least, good for him). He had even rejected the few jobs the Guild had offered him only to keep a good appearance. Everything for a jury of people he didn't know, in a case he didn't care about, for a cause he didn't believe in.

If he had known how'd that go, he wouldn't have wasted his time in the first place. If he had let the Lusus burn in the fire, he wouldn’t be standing where he was right then.

A breeze seeps into the window, caressing his skin as he lets his eyes fall shut for a second, and he can’t help but wonder what comes next.

Puck doesn't remember a life before being a Slayer. 

He knows there was one. A place where he came from, somewhere he called a home, a kid he used to be, something that meant everything to him, a person he was supposed to be. 

But it’s all gone; he doesn't have it anymore. It was left behind when he met his father, and whoever he was then had died long ago.

He couldn’t look back. He simply couldn’t.

Yet the question invaded his mind, and the words seemed to glow up on top of him.

If I'm not a Slayer, then what am I?

It made him feel lost, like a faint memory of a previous life in which a kid called out for his mother in the middle of a supermarket as tears washed down his face. It made him feel useless and out of place, wonder what was he still doing there if there was a chance he would never become the person he had planned to be.

However, that was not all there was to it. Something brewed in his stomach, bubbling like a boiling cauldron, fighting to come out like an alien. It was something he had never felt before, or at least not with the same intensity, a question that was always there, but he never dared to ask.

If I can't be who I am, then, who am I going to be?

He can't remember the last time someone had asked him that and he had replied with anything but "the best Slayer ever known." Yet his response couldn't be that one anymore, at least not until he served his time. It only left an open door to a new answer, something he had never really asked his own self:

Who do I want to be?

He sighs and checks his phone to see it was just half past ten. He had never been in bed for so long. He had never slept for so many hours straight. He had never had so much time to just chill and do nothing. He had never had time to figure out what he really wanted.

A small smile formed on his lips as the realization dawned onto him.

Even after the trial, even after being suspended, even after being targeted as a brute and a thug, Puck was given something new, something he had never had before.

Puck had a choice.

The only downside to it was, Puck didn't have any idea what he was supposed to do with it.

[kaoskakitasikmalaya]

Grand Final PMNC 2021 kini mempertemukan berbagai tim andalan e-sport PUBG Mobile demi posisi PMPL ID S4! Penasaran dengan apa saja timnya? Cek aja selengkapnya di sini!

1. Ini dia para pesertanya!

Akhir pekan ini PMNC resmi mengadakan 2 mode grand final secara bergantian yaitu squad finals dan Ladies Match Grand Final PMNC 2021 setelah kualifikasi sejak awal perhelatan turnamen! Nah, daftar lengkap kontestan yang akan tampil di panggung ini adalah:

Squad Teams: 1. ACS ESPORT 2. ALTER EGO 3. BKG LIZARD 4. DEWA UNITED ESPORTS 5. DG SLAYER 6. EAGLE 365 ESPORTS 7. ERDITA DG 8. EVOS REBORN 9. LXB 10. MYRON REVOLT 11. NERO TEAM 12. NFT ESPORTS 13. POWER DANGER ESPORTS 14. TAKAE ESPORTS 15. WEST BANDITS ESPORTS 16. ZONE ESPORTS

Ladies Teams: 1. RUBIC VIPER 2. BELLETRON ACE 3. ALTER EGO DIONE 4. CAPITAL 9 AXE 5. SLEEPING FOREST 4F 6. FREAKOUT VICIOUS 7. VICTIM REAPER 8. FGID AMOUR 9. F5 DORAEMON 10. BOOM ARTEMIS 11. MONOCHROME LIT 12. ONIC GLORY 13. ICE 14. MTPS 15. ONEUNO NAVIN 16. MORPH ETERNITY

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dok. PUBG Mobile

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Baca Juga: Fitur Mission Ignition Hadir di Update PUBG Mobile 1.5!

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Sebagai sponsor utama PMNC 2021, Oppo Indonesia mengatakan, “Setelah sebulan penuh kompetisi level tinggi, kami bangga dapat berpartisipasi dan berkontribusi dalam industri e-sport Indonesia terutama PUBG Mobile yang kian populer."

"Kami harap turnamen ini dapat menjadi batu lonjakan bagi tim amatir maupun profesional untuk kemajuan karir mereka. Kami juga berharap dapat menyediakan kesempatan tambahan bagi masyarakat lainnya di lain waktu,” ujar Alinna Wen sebagai Marketing Director OPPO Indonesia.

Apa pendapatmu tentang Grand Final PMNC 2021? Sampaikan opinimu terhadap kompetisi ini melalui kolom komentar di bawah, ya!

[hawaiiayla]

FREE BOOKS TO READ ONLINE || The Land: Monsters (Chaos Seeds, #8) || FULL ACCESS

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The 8th Novel of the Internationally Acclaimed Chaos Seeds SagaA mesmerizing tale reminiscent of the brutality of Goblin Slayer and the majesty of Game of ThronesAudible's Customer Favorite of the Year!#1 Audiobook 2017#1 in Cyberpunk and Video Game FantasyOver 100,000 THOUSAND positive reviewsWelcome my friends!Welcome... to ?The Land!?The battle of the dead was won, but at a great cost. Sion, leader of the Mist Village was left with only pain and regret as Richter was claimed by the abyss.What no one but the abandoned chaos seed knows is that he narrowly avoided the curse of the lich Singh, a curse that still hangs above his head. Now, surrounded by miles of darkness and tons of crushing rock, Richter has to find his way back into the light.The only problem is that this monster of a man is being pursued by monsters, a demon and his own foolish choices. Faced with all the dangers of the deep dark, what will Richter say when the buried horrors of The Land come a calling and asked if

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Title : The Land: Monsters (Chaos Seeds, #8)

Author : Aleron Kong

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[lyra-morton]

The Aftermath || Self Para

Lyra lay propped up on against some pillows as she watched her sister speak with the nurse, not really hearing what they were saying, but hoping she looked engaged nonetheless. It was day two in the hospital and she was more than ready to get out of the stuffy room and back into her on clothes and her own bed. After all, her injury didn’t need surgery, so they’d done all they could do. Why should she continue occupying a bed someone in more critical condition might need?

The doctor had said she was healing up well enough, the gouge in her leg was mostly superficial, though she had heard him whisper about potential muscle damage-time would tell- and rehab to her sister. She had yet to see the actual wound, electing to state out the window as the dressings were changed throughout the day. Sooner or later she’d have to watch, to learn how to care for it herself, but she couldn’t quite stomach the thought yet.

Maybe tomorrow…

A moment later, her attention was brought back to her sister, who had returned to her chair beside the bed. “She said that hopefully you can go tomorrow, but you need to learn how to wrap your leg properly.” Jyn paused, her brow furrowing, before she spoke again, “Lyra, are you sure you won’t stay with me? Even just for a few days. I just want to make sure you’re okay,”

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head, “You’ve already missed enough work on my account. And I’m not an invalid. I can take care of myself.”

Lyra loved her sister, really she did, but the last time she’d been in her care, she’d hovered over Lyra, barely giving her any room to breathe. Of course, that might have been more the fact that Lyra’s injury had been caused by her- though she’d assured her sister is wasn’t her fault- but she didn’t want to take that chance. They were close, but had always been independent, and she wasn’t about to give up her independence again.

“Really, I’ll be okay. If you’re worried, you can always bring me a piece of cake twice a day. I’m sure that will help heal me right up.” She smiled as she joked, but a cold feeling settled over her as she spoke, and she knew immediately that Jyn had picked up on it.

“Lyra-“

Shaking her head, Lyra turned away to stare out the window. “I’m a little tired. Could we talk about this later. Please?”

She heard a heavy sigh behind her, followed by the scraping of a chair and the rustling of fabric. Lyra new she wasn’t being fair, but she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She wasn’t ready.

This all happened to her because she stayed for some more cake. Well, most of her knew that it ran deeper than that- her curiosity had gotten her into all kinds of troubler before, though nothing as serious as this- but it was easier to attribute the situation to something a little more tangible and the thought alone made her want to swear off the delicious treat forever.

“Alright. I’ll go and get some lunch from the cafe and I’ll call Mom and Dad. You just rest up, okay?” Jyn didn’t expect a response, nor did she receive one. With another sigh, she turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Lyra, for her part, felt a slight pang of guilt, but it was quickly overshadowed by al the questions swimming around in her head. Despite the large quantity of alcohol she consumed, she remembered the whole evening in stunning high definition- the blood, the screams, the werewolves. She closed her eyes as she recalled the sounds of shattered glass and the terror etched into the faces of those who were not as lucky as she.

She had read plenty about werewolves before and knew they lived in Wallcord- peacefully enough, considering there weren’t a whole lot of wolf attacks reported too frequently- but she’d never seen that many, nor one up close. Nor had she ever been chased down and injured by one. A small, dark part of her wanted to find the nearest slayer and convince them that all werewolves must be evil, but she knew that was just dead talking. The larger, more logical part of her reminded her that- just like humans- supernatural beings were both good and evil.

Shuddering, she thought back to Davenport, his red eyes and the emptiness behind them. She hadn’t figured out how, but she was sure he was involved. While she was no stranger to the supernatural, there was definitely something unnatural about him. Based on her research, he gave every indication to being a Witch, but clearly a dark one. The only other witch she knew besides her sister was Kaia, and she couldn’t reconcile the idea of either of them ever committing the kind of atrocities Davenport had influenced.

She had read his statement in the paper, claiming surprise and sorrow for the horrible and tragic accident that occurred in his estate and she scowled, tossing the paper away. Her sister had been surprised at the outburst, but said nothing as she picked up the paper and dumped it in the barrel. Several times, Lyra considered telling her what really happened, beyond the ‘I don’t really remember, it all happened so fast’ line she was feeding the doctors, but something held her back. Not distrust, but rather fear. There was something in the way he looked at her that told her she wasn’t out of the woods yet, and the last thing she wanted to do was to put her sister in danger.

Full of questions, and answers that only creates more questions, Lyra pushed the thoughts of the attack out of her mind for now. With no resources and the inability to leave her bed, thinking about the situation would only serve to continue to frustrate her. Instead, she turned her mind to the more positive. Kind of positive, anyway, since the thought alone had her heart racing, but for an entirely different reason than before.

She had a date.

Of all the things she expected from a drunk text, as date was probably the last on the list. Least of all with the girl who had been the queen bee of high school. The girl who had never glanced twice at her, who stood by as her friends mocked “that weird, nerdy girl who is always reading about vampires and werewolves”. It was almost surreal and if you had told her literally the day before that she’d be going on a date with Cecelia Blair, well, you’d probably be laughed out of the bookstore by both parties.

Yet, something had shifted that night.

Obviously, she was beautiful- Lyra would have to be blind not to notice- but their drunken texts had opened a door she didn’t realize was even in the room. As ridiculous as most of the conversation had been, it was real, and that was something Lyra didn’t realize she wanted. Well, maybe she did, but she never thought that it would happen while she drunk texted a girl who barely noticed her, who she barely ever spoke to. It was almost like something out of one of those stupid romance novels she kept stashed under her bed.

The Queen Bee and The Nerd.

Now that she was sober, the nervousness about the whole thing came back full force. What if she messed it up? What if she was weird and awkward- well that was a given- and Cecelia decided she never wanted to see her again? Lyra let out a disbelieving laugh. It wasn’t normally her style to worry about the opinions of others- people had been judging her all of her life, after all- but for whatever reason, she felt a pull to the other girl, one she’d never noticed, but suddenly realized had been there all along. It was a harrowing notion, really. Lyra has spent her entire life knowing who she was and what she wanted, and now this came out her out of the left field.

Glancing at her phone, she forced herself to pull up Cecelia’s contact information. Would she even want to talk to her after receiving for word for nearly three days? Her phone had spent the first day dead, and it was only after she woke earlier that day that she was able to ask her sister to bring a charger, but still. Lyra doubted that the other girl had ever been stood up before, intentionally or otherwise. That thought in and of itself was incredibly daunting and Lyra tried to force down the overwhelming feeling of dread as she typed out a single line of text.

Can you meet me outside the hospital tomorrow afternoon?

[culturizando]

#UnDíaComoHoy: 24 de septiembre en la historia

El 24 de septiembre es el día 267.º día del año. Quedan 98 días para finalizar el año. Estos son algunos de los eventos más destacados que ocurrieron un día como hoy 24 de septiembre.

-1493: Cristóbal Colón comienza su segunda expedición a América.

-1725: nace Arthur Guinness, un importante cervecero y el fundador de la compañía Guinness, bautizada como Arthur Guinness s St. James s Gate Brewery (empresa que recolecta las estadísticas acerca de plusmarcas mundiales.) Entre 1797 y 1799 expandió su negocio cervecero de forma notable. A partir de entonces elaboró sólo cerveza tipo porter (cerveza oscura), empleando a miembros de la familia Purser, que ya habían trabajado anteriormente en este tipo de cerveza en Londres en los años 1770. La familia Purser pasó a ser socia de la cervecera durante gran parte del siglo XIX. A la muerte de Arthur Guinnes en 1803, la producción anual de cerveza de su empresa era de 20,000 barriles.

-1783: Inglaterra reconoce la independencia de Estados Unidos.

-1789: en Estados Unidos el Congreso crea la Oficina de Correos.

-1869: en Estados Unidos sucede el Viernes Negro: especulaciones sobre el precio del oro causan el pánico en Wall Street.

-1870: nació Georges Claude, químico y físico francés, inventor de la luz de neón. Alrededor de 1902 fue el primero en aplicar una descarga eléctrica en un tubo sellado y con gas neón con la idea de crear una lámpara. Inspirado en parte por la invención de Daniel McFarlan Moore, la lámpara de Moore, Claude inventó la lámpara de neón mediante la descarga eléctrica de un gas inerte comprobando que el brillo era considerable. Es considerado el Thomas Edison de Francia. En Cuba, en 1930, gracias a la idea de Arsène d’Arsonval (1851-1940), construyó el primer proyecto de utilización de energía maremotérmica basado en el gradiente térmico oceánico.

-1896: nace Francis Scott Fitzgerald, escritor estadounidense. Su obra es el reflejo, desde una elevada óptica literaria, de los problemas de la juventud de su país en los años que siguieron a la Primera Guerra Mundial. En sus novelas expresa el desencanto de los privilegiados jóvenes de su generación que arrastraban su lasitud entre el jazz y la ginebra (A este lado del paraíso, 1920), en Europa en la Costa Azul (Suave es la noche, 1934), o en el fascinante decorado de las ciudades estadounidenses (El gran Gatsby, 1925). Su extraordinaria “Suave es la noche”, narra el ascenso y caída de Dick Diver, un joven psicoanalista, condicionado por Nicole, su mujer y su paciente. El eco doloroso de la hospitalización de su propia mujer, Zelda, diagnosticada esquizofrénica en 1932, fue manifiesto. Este libro definió el tono más denso y sombrío de su obra, perceptible en muchos escritos autobiográficos finales.

-1936: nace Jim Henson, productor y cineasta estadounidense, creador de los Muppets (m. 1990). James Maury Henson nació el 24 de septiembre de 1936 y falleció el 16 de mayo de 1990, fue uno de los más importantes artistas de marionetas en la historia de la televisión. Realizó varios largometrajes de animación de marionetas y fue un prominente productor televisivo durante los años 70. Para desarrollar sus proyectos fundó diferentes compañías The Jim Henson Company, the Jim Henson Foundation, y la Jim Henson s Creature Shop. Henson es especialmente recordado por ser el creador, en 1964, de los muppets o teleñecos, como se les conoce en España, un tipo de marionetas de tela dotadas de gran movilidad, y el líder creativo del equipo detrás de su éxito prolongado a lo largo de varias décadas. Henson consiguió crear un conjunto interesante de personajes desarrollando ideas novedosas con un sentido del ritmo y el humor que conectó con una audiencia tanto infantil como de adultos. Sus obras se recuerdan en parte por promover valores positivos en la infancia como la amistad, magia o el amor, temas que aparecían en la mayor parte de sus obras. El show de los muppets o teleñecos (The muppet show, 1976-1981) protagonizado por la rana Kermit (Gustavo o René) y la cerdita Piggy (Miss Peggy) junto a personas reales, se ha visto en más de cien países.

-1941: nace Linda McCartney, fotógrafa y cantautora estadounidense, esposa de Paul McCartney.

-1948: nace Phil Hartman, actor y comediante canadiense (m. 1998). En 1986, Hartman se unió al reparto del popular programa de variedades de la NBC, Saturday Night Live y permaneció durante ocho temporadas, lo que fue un récord en esa época. También fue famosos por prestar su voz a Troy McClure y a Lionel Hutz en la serie animada The Simpson, personajes que fueron retirados tras su trágica muerte. El 28 de mayo de 1998, Hartman fue asesinado mientras dormía, por su esposa Brynn Omdahl en su hogar de Encino, Condado de Los Ángeles (California). Omdahl entró a su habitación con un revólver y lo hirió fatalmente disparándole múltiples veces. Hartman tenía 49 años.

-1957: en Barcelona, (España), se inaugura el Camp Nou, estadio del Fútbol Club Barcelona.

-1984: en Oregón, EE.UU., miembros de la secta Osho contaminan con salmonella las barras de ensaladas de 10 restaurantes. El atentado fue realizado por la cúpula de un grupo de seguidores de Osho (conocido en esa época como Bhagwán Sri Rajnísh) que esperaban incapacitar a la población de votantes de la ciudad para que sus propios candidatos ganaran las elecciones del condado de Wasco en 1984. El incidente fue el primer ataque bioterrorista, y el de mayor envergadura, de la historia de los Estados Unidos hasta el momento. El ataque es uno de los dos únicos casos de terrorismo con armas biológicas con intención de dañar a seres humanos. Como resultado del ataque, 751 personas contrajeron la salmonelosis; 45 de ellas fueron hospitalizadas. No hubo víctimas mortales. A pesar de que en las primeras investigaciones del Departamento de Servicios Humanos de Oregón y los Centros para el Control y Prevención de Enfermedades no se descartó la idea de una contaminación deliberada, no se descubrió la fuente real de la contaminación hasta un año después. Dos de los principales administradores de la comuna fueron procesados y condenados a 29 meses de reclusión en una prisión federal de mínima seguridad.

-1988: en los Juegos Olímpicos de Seúl, el canadiense Ben Johnson gana la carrera de 100 metros, estableciendo un récord mundial (9,79 s).

-1990: en Rusia, el Soviet Supremo aprueba el cambio de la economía al libre mercado.

-1990: se publica el disco Rust In Peace de la banda Megadeth. Rust in Peace es el cuarto álbum de estudio de la banda estadounidense de thrash metal Megadeth. El álbum fue lanzado por Capitol Records en 1990, consiguiendo ser uno de los discos de thrash metal mas vendidos, consiguiendo vender más de 5 millones de discos solo en estados unidos. Una versión remixada y remasterizada, con varios bonus tracks, fue lanzada en el 2004. Para muchos fans es el mejor disco de Megadeth, y a menudo es considerado como uno mejores discos del thrash metal junto a Master of Puppets de Metallica, Among the Living de Anthrax y Reign in Blood de Slayer. Es el primer disco de Megadeth con la formación más exitosa de la banda (Mustaine / Ellefson / Menza / Friedman).

-1991: muere Theodor Seuss Geisel fue un escritor y caricaturista estadounidense, más extensamente conocido por sus libros infantiles escritos bajo su seudónimo, Dr. Seuss. Publicó más de 60 libros para niños, que a menudo se caracterizan por sus personajes imaginativos, rimas y el uso frecuente del contador de trisílabas. Dr. Seuss escribió libros tan populares como Hop on Pop, ¡Cómo el Grinch robó la Navidad!, El Lorax y El gato en el sombrero o ensombrerado. Usando cuentos e imágenes surrealistas, las obras de Seuss despiertan la imaginación de los lectores a la vez que tratan temas esenciales como el deterioro del medio ambiente o la adquisición de la propia identidad. El constante juego de palabras convierte sus textos en obras casi intraducibles. En el año 1984 recibió una mención especial del premio Pulitzer, por su contribución a la literatura infantil.

-1991: se publica el disco Blood Sugar Sex Magik de Red Hot Chili Peppers. Blood Sugar Sex Magik es el quinto álbum de estudio de la banda estadounidense de rock alternativo Red Hot Chili Peppers, lanzado el 24 de septiembre de 1991. Producido por Rick Rubin, fue la primera grabación de la banda lanzada por Warner Bros. Records. Blood Sugar Sex Magik vendió más de siete millones de copias sólo en los Estados Unidos e introdujo a los Chili Peppers a la popularidad mainstream y la aclamación crítica. Blood Sugar Sex Magik produjo varios sencillos de la banda, entre los cuales se incluyen “Give It Away”, “Under the Bridge”, “Sir Psycho Sexy”, “Suck My Kiss” y “Breaking the Girl”. La grabación también marcó la salida del guitarrista John Frusciante en 1992, durante el tour de la banda, hasta su regreso en 1998. Blood Sugar Sex Magik fue elogiado como el fundador del rock alternativo en los años 1990.

-1991:  se publica otro de los más representativos discos de los 90s: Nevermind, de la banda Nirvana. Nevermind es el segundo álbum de estudio de la banda estadounidense Nirvana, publicado el 24 de septiembre de 1991. Producido por Butch Vig, Nevermind fue el primer lanzamiento de la banda con DGC Records. El líder de la agrupación, Kurt Cobain, trató de hacer música fuera de los límites restrictivos de la escena grunge de Seattle, aprovechando la influencia de grupos como los Pixies y su uso de la dinámica de canciones ruidosas y calmadas. Pese a las escasas esperanzas comerciales por parte de la banda y del sello discográfico, Nevermind se convirtió en un sorprendente éxito a finales de 1991, en gran parte debido a su primer sencillo, “Smells Like Teen Spirit”. En enero de 1992 había desbancado al álbum de Michael Jackson Dangerous del número uno del Billboard. La RIAA certificó el álbum diez veces platino (10 millones de copias vendidas). Nevermind fue el responsable de dar a conocer el rock alternativo al gran público y la crítica lo calificó como uno de los mejores álbumes de todos los tiempos. Ha vendido 30 millones de copias en todo el mundo.

-2007: en Estados Unidos, se emite el primer capítulo de la serie The Big Bang Theory.

La entrada #UnDíaComoHoy: 24 de septiembre en la historia aparece primero en culturizando.com | Alimenta tu Mente.

[lunarmadison]

deep in this sleeplessness | self-para | 5.20.17

WHO: Madison McCarthy, ft. Éabha  WHEN: Saturday, May 20, 2017 | (November 2009)  WHERE: ??? WHAT: Madison hasn’t felt right. She hasn’t felt right for a long time. Something is missing, and she isn’t going to find it on campus, so she goes to a forest near her heart to search.  WARNINGS: Violence, violent thoughts, child endangerment, animal death (hunting).  (Also, it’s long, so strap in and bring a snack.) 

Training in the private rooms at Undique had not helped Madison. The practice dummies she battled would always remain practice dummies; even when they were enchanted to move across the gym, she could predict too easily what those movements would be.

She had gone to the marketplace, searching for an item that would create illusions for her, since she lacked the ability herself. Madison had found something close to what she wanted in the form of enchanted goggles, which could recreate several types of terrain in the gym. The next day, she watched as the bare walls of the room shimmered and morphed into a thick forest, the floor becoming a lush carpet of grass and earth, true sounds dimmed by the din of wildlife surrounding her. It'd do.

The moving targets became cloaked in guises of creatures pulled from the pages of her cryptozoology text -- some benign, some dangerous, and it was up to her to determine the difference.

The goggles had helped for a few days, a week at most. She'd cycled through forest, plains, mountain, and jungle, but nothing felt right. It didn't feel like she was anywhere but the gym, and her targets were always predictable, gliding along the paths that she'd planned for them. Frustrated, she pulled the goggles off her head and stuffed them into her bag before hitting the showers and heading back to her dorm.

The next morning, she booked a portal, claiming she needed a vacation. It wasn't a total lie. With Éabha perched lazily on her shoulder, she carried only what she needed through the portal. It opened into a dense green place, heavy with humidity and foliage, with tall trees looming overhead to cast long shadows on the ground below, with moist, dark earth that clung to her boots. It was a world not unlike what the enchanted goggles promised and completely failed to deliver, because most importantly, she could feel the life teeming in the hidden corners of the forest, the way the trees soared towards the sky, the way the place seemed to sing with Aether energy. The forest was alive, and in that moment, so was Madison.

Without knowing the lay of the land before heading in, Madison could not have formulated a specific plan, and so began her hike along the closest thing to a trail that she could find. Éabha took to the air, her dark wings spread wide under bright green leaves, and watchful eyes scouting ahead to keep Madison apprised of danger that the witch herself might not notice.

But there was little that Madison didn't notice. Back on campus, her hyperawareness of the chatter and footsteps that surrounded her stymied her attempts at meditation, but here, in the woods, each background noise meant something important. Everything she saw and heard, each last flicker of movement in the brush and each chirp or shuffle along the ground signaled to Madison that she was not alone. Her training told her what to be aware of, to filter out the steady sounds of life in the forest and hone in on what was unusual or different, what could most easily pose a threat to her safety.

She kept walking.

Morning turned to noon. The summer canopy blocked out most of the sun's light, but the heat still radiated through the air. So far, Madison hadn't found any sources of water, but she'd packed plenty, so she signalled to Éabha to descend, and the raven glided down to her witch to land on her shoulder with pinpoint accuracy. "Time for a break," Madison stated, and sat on the ground with her back against a thick tree.

'So you do talk,' Éabha teased, hopping onto the ground. 'I was starting to wonder how long you would stay in that head of yours.'

Madison sighed, but pulled her grimoire out of her bag and turned to a page with images of plastic water bottles marching across in rows. After lifting one bottle out, she stowed the book and took a long drink, pleased to find the water still cold. "Yes, I talk," she countered. Looking up and across, the forest seemed to stretch into forever, greens and browns fading to blues and greys as the plants grew more distant. "I haven't had a lot to say."

'I'd noticed.' Éabha strutted in a slow, small circle, stopping when she stood in front of Madison to peer at her curiously. 'I'd ask why we're here, I know that you know that I already know.' A beaky smile. 'You're looking for something, aren't you?'

Madison nodded, pulled a Madame Jason's EverEnergy bar from her bag, and took a bite. "I haven't felt ... right," she confessed. "I feel like something's missing."

'And you think you'll find it here?'

It was a genuine question, not an accusation, and for that Madison was grateful. "I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe. Probably."

'In the woods where you did your survival test.'

Madison pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them to herself with one arm. She couldn't even fully articulate what it was that she was looking for, only that a part of herself was no longer, well ... part of her, and she wasn't even sure how long it had been missing. "Yes," she confirmed. It was a complete sentence. Wordlessly, she polished off the energy bar, then sat in continued silence as she drank her water.

She had been barely thirteen years old when she'd done her test. Thin and small, she looked frail, but her frame belied her tenacity when faced with a challenge. Steely eyes glinted with her determination to succeed, and her eager mind was full of knowledge that would keep her alive and whole over the two weeks she was to remain in the forest, alone. She hadn't looked back when her dad dropped her off. Only ahead. Only towards victory, and the words of praise that would follow when she proved herself.

Madison stood and dusted the dirt off of her jeans. "We can keep going."

'And here I thought we'd stay right here forever,' came Éabha's sarcastic reply, as dark wings took her to the space above and just behind Madison.

Madison didn't answer, but kept walking, pressing on through the woods, one foot after another, eyes scanning between the trees for movement and flashes of color, constantly listening for the sound of nigh-silent footsteps over ground.

She hadn't touched her rations. She knew she wouldn't need them, after all, since she was the best Slayer in her whole age group, and she could easily hunt for her dinner. Touching rations meant giving up, and she wasn't going to give up on the first day. Of course, Madison had only the simplest bow, one that wasn't built to her specifications, and rudimentary arrows. She needed to restring it, and check the fletchings on her arrows, had to sharpen the arrow heads against rocks. By the time her equipment was ready to go, the sun had set, leaving only the quarter of a moon hanging in the sky to light her way. The shadows were dark and many, but Madison was determined to be just one more of them, one more long shadow looming in the night, ready to strike.

Madison pushed on through the forest, over trails and under brush, her custom bow in hand, with arrow nocked and ready for her draw. A flash of cottony white caught her eye. She drew back. Released. The arrow sailed ahead of the rabbit, hitting were she knew it would be by the time it got there. Perfect.

She stalked through the foliage to retrieve her kill. The ground felt a little steadier beneath her feet. Her hands had done this. It was what they were trained to do, and it had been done without the use of magic.

Magic was a tool, Madison mused, as she paused to clean the rabbit with the knife she'd brought along. Slaying magic, in particular, was used when conventional weapons were either unnecessary or would not subdue the target. Slayers were brought in as big guns, to contain big threats. McCarthy magic was kind. Madison's quiver contained more arrows bearing the sigil for 'sleep' than for 'explode,' after all, because they were compassionate people. They cared for the well being of their targets. They wove nets of magic to contain, and built great walls together that protected their clan.

Most importantly, McCarthy slayers were not bloodthirsty. They were not Puckermans. They did not charge willy-nilly into the field, spells blazing. They did not engage unless absolutely necessary. They were control and finesse. They had plans.

Bow abandoned, young Madison sank her knife into her moving target. The kill was easy -- an easy win that flooded her young mind with the thrill of victory. And of course, the meat would sate her hunger when it was roasted over a fire.

At dusk, Madison started scanning the ground for the remains of camp sites past, since it was best to use one that was established, rather than disturb more natural terrain than she had to. She found the pale scorch marks and scattered ashes of a fire that had once roared, and gathered enough dry wood to build a new one.

'Did you bring enough for me?' Éabha asked, breaking the silence while the rabbit cooked.

"You don't eat," Madison pointed out.

'I could if I wanted to. If you brought something for me.'

Madison sighed. "You're a hunter, too. Go hunt for something."

'I'm a scavenger,' Éabha reminded her, hopping in a little closer to the warm orange glow of the small fire.

"Then go scavenge," Madison said.

The fire crackled quietly, and Éabha stayed put.

'Did you find it yet? The thing you were looking for?'

Madison watched the flames dancing in front of her, licking the meat until it was safe enough for her to eat. It was tough and chewy, and not her first choice all told, but it fed her. "I think so," she replied, barely above a whisper, but she knew Éabha heard her. Her familiar heard everything.

'You sound disappointed.'

Madison collected handfuls of dirt to pour over the dancing flames. Earth covered fire. At best, it nurtured the heat, warming it radiantly. At worst, the same life-giving soil smothered the bright, blazing heat that illuminated all it touched.

"I tried so hard to do everything right," she said. She pursed her lips and looked down at her hands, streaked dark with dirt. "I wanted everyone to like me, and that sounds so stupid now. I can't keep changing myself for every different person. That's bonkers." She shook her head. Her eyes focused on the ground, instead of on Éabha. "I didn't want to f--"

'You can say it,' Éabha prompted.

"I can't f- I can't fuck it up," Madison said in a rush, her tongue skating over the expletive like it was still something that didn't belong in her mouth. "And I'm going to. Aether, I'm going to, I'm going to he-- I'm going to fuck it up again, somehow, in some way. And I'm the heir! I'm the heir of the McCarthy clan and I am not allowed to be anything other than responsible for my own family and the way people see us, and -- and the very first thing that happens, that I do, is I let my own brother get all caught up in dating a fae. A fae! That's weird, Éabha!"

'Isn't Marley your friend?'

"I still wouldn't date her. It's ... it's just weird, okay?" She sighed. "And then I stole the very next person he was interested in right out from underneath him, and why? So I could prove something to myself? I'm a horrible sister. The whole semester goes like that. I lose the election, I fail at making friends AND alliances, I lose my virginity to a gay guy, who --" Another hesitation, a pause, a word on the tip of her tongue that she hadn't allowed herself to say. Here in the woods, though, with night falling on her and her familiar, there is only truth. "I wasn't even a good girlfriend. I was selfish and weird and nutty and trying to be -- I don't know -- what I thought a good Bloodline girl was supposed to be. And I loved him, you know? I really did."

'You weren't honest.'

The simple statement seemed to sink into Madison's bones, right into the depths of her marrow. It wound itself around her skeleton, wriggled into her heart, fused to her DNA. "No," she agreed. "I wasn't."

'That's why you fail, Madison Laurel.' Éabha fluttered in even closer, and poked her beak in Madison's face. 'Slayer Madison Laurel McCarthy. If you speak and walk your truth, will it matter if everyone likes you? Will it matter if you beat your brother?' A pause. 'Won't it be easier to fulfill your destiny if you accept all of it, instead of only the pretty parts? Don't answer - that's a lot of questions, and we're both tired. Sleep, Madison. I'll keep watch.'

Madison was fairly sure that it was the most that her familiar has ever said to her in one go. She rolled the sleeping bag out of her grimoire and settled in for the night. The stars shone through the gaps in the canopy, like pieces of a great constellation puzzle, and they gave her no real answers, either. It was like the answers to those questions just didn’t exist; if she knew them, then she’d be living them right now, wouldn’t she? Instead of coming all the way out here to try and find what she still needed?

She never felt more disconnected from the concepts of destiny or truth than in that moment.

[to be continued]

[mindfulthrapy]

<strong>Rituals for the Blue-Clad Vajrapāṇi</strong><em>from the Words of the Buddha</em>

༄༅། །འཕགས་པ་ལག་ན་རྡོ་རྗེ་གོས་སྔོན་པོ་ཅན་གྱི་ཆོ་ག་ཞེས་བྱ་བའི་གཟུངས་བཞུགས་སོ། །

Rituals for the Blue-Clad Vajrapāṇi

from the Words of the Buddha

 རྒྱ་གར་སྐད་དུ། ཨཱཪྻ་ནཱི་ལཱཾ་བ་ར་དྷ་ར་བཛྲ་པཱ་ཎི་ཀལྤ་ནཱ་མ་དྷཱ་ར་ཎཱི།

In the language of India: ārya-nīlāmbara-dhara-vajrapāṇi-kalpa-nāma-dhāraṇī

བོད་སྐད་དུ། འཕགས་པ་ལག་ན་རྡོ་རྗེ་གོས་སྔོན་པོ་ཅན་གྱི་ཆོ་ག་ཞེས་བྱ་བའི་གཟུངས།

In the language of Tibet: pakpa lakna dorjé gö ngönchen kyi choka shyejawé zung

In the English language: The Noble Incantation entitled ‘The Rituals for the Blue-Clad Vajrapāṇi’

 དཀོན་མཆོག་གསུམ་ལ་ཕྱག་འཚལ་ལོ། །

könchok sum la chaktsal lo

Homage to the Three Jewels!

 གནོད་སྦྱིན་གྱི་སྡེ་དཔོན་ཆེན་པོ་ལག་ན་རྡོ་རྗེ་གོས་སྔོན་པོ་ཅན།

nöjin gyi depön chenpo lak na dorjé gö ngönpochen

Homage to the overlord of yakṣas,1 Blue-Clad Vajrapāṇi,

སངས་རྒྱས་གང་གཱའི་ཀླུང་གི་བྱེ་མ་སྙེད་ཀྱིས་རྗེས་སུ་གནང་བ།

sangye gang gé lung gi jema nyé kyi jesu nangwa

Authorized by as many Buddhas as grains of sand in the river Ganges,

མཆེ་བ་གཙིགས་པ་དང་འཚམ་པ།

chewa tsikpa dang tsampa

You who appear baring your fangs;

མིག་མེ་མདག་གི་ཕུང་པོ་འདྲ་བ།

mik medak gi pungpo drawa

You whose eyes are like masses of flames;

དབུགས་མེ་ལྕེ་ལྟར་འབར་བ།

uk meché tar barwa

You whose breath blazes with fiery tongues;

འཇིགས་པའི་ང་རོ་ཅན།

jikpé ngaro chen

You whose roar terrifies;

ལག་པ་དང༌རྐང་པ་ཀླུ་ནོར་རྒྱས་ཀྱི་བུས་བརྒྱན་པ།

lakpa dang kangpa lu nor gyé kyi bü gyenpa

You whose hands and legs are adorned with the nāga Vāsuki;

ཀླུ་ནག་པོ་སེ་རལ་ཁར་ཐོགས་པ།

lu nakpo seral khar tokpa

You who sport the nāga Kāla as a sash;

ཀླུ་དགའ་བོ་དང་ཉེ་དགའ་བོ་འབར་བས་རྣ་ཆ་བྱས་པ།

lu gawo dang nyé gawo barwé na cha jepa

You who make the nāgas Nanda and Upananda your earrings;

སྦྲུལ་འབར་བའི་རིན་པོ་ཆེའི་ཅོད་པན་ཐོགས་པ།

drul barwé rinpoche chöpen tokpa

You who don a jeweled crown of blazing snakes;

སྦྲུལ་གདུག་པ་འབར་བ་ཟ་བ།

drul dukpa barwa zawa

You who consume blazing poisonous serpents;

བཞིན་རྒྱས་པ།

shyin gyepa

You whose visage is expansive;

སྨིན་མ་དང༌དཔྲལ་བ་བསྡུས་པ།

minma dang tralwa düpa

You whose eyebrows and forehead are tensed;

ཡ་སོས་མ་མཆུ་མནན་པ།

yasö ma chu nenpa

You whose upper teeth bite your lower lip;

གཤིན་རྗེའི་ཆ་བྱད་ཅན།

shinjé chajé chen

You whose accoutrements are those of Yāma;

ལྕེ་གློག་ལྟར་འགྱུ་བ།

ché lok tar gyuwa

You whose tongue moves as fast as lightning;

གསུས་པོ་ཆེ་སྦྲུལ་ཟ་བ།

süpo ché drul zawa

You whose large belly digests snakes;

ལག་པ་བརྡབས་པའི་སྒྲས་འཇིགས་པར་བྱེད་པ།

lakpa dabpé dré jikpar jepa

You who terrify with the sound of clapping hands;

ཀླུའི་རྒྱལ་པོ་འདབ་བཟང་སྐ་རགས་སུ་བཅིངས་པ།

lü gyalpo dab zang karak su chingpa

You, on whose belt, Garuḍa, the ruler of nāgas, is tied;

ཨ་ལ་ལ་ཞེས་སྒྲོག་པར་བྱེད་པ།

a la la shyé drokpar jepa

You who proclaim, “A la la!”

རྒྱ་མཚོའི་ཟབས་སུ་དཔག་ཚད་བརྒྱད་ཁྲི་ཡོད་པ་རྐང་པའི་པུས་མོར་ཕྱིན་པ།

gyatsö zab su paktsé gyé tri yöpa kangpé pümor chinpa

You whose shins reach 80,000 leagues down to the depths of the ocean;

དབང་པོ་དང༌ཉི་མ་ཕྲག་པ་ལ་བཀུར་བ།

wangpo dang nyima trakpa la kurwa

You who bear Indra and Sūrya upon your shoulders;

ཀླུ་ཐམས་ཅད་རླག་པར་བྱེད་པ།

lu tamché lakpar jepa

You who annihilate all nāgas;

གད་རྒྱངས་ཆེན་པོ་སྒྲོགས་པས་ཀུན་ཏུ་འཁྲུགས་པར་བྱེད་པ།

gegyang chenpo drokpé küntu trukpar jepa

You whose bellowing laughter makes everything tremble;

གཤིན་རྗེའི་གཟུགས་ཅན།

shinjé zukchen

You who have the appearance of Yāma;

ཁམས་གསུམ་པ་འཇིགས་པར་བྱེད་པ།

kham sumpa jikpar jepa

You who frighten the three realms;

ཀླུ་རྣམས་འཆི་བར་བྱེད་པ་ལ་ཕྱག་འཚལ་ལོ། །

lu nam chiwar jepa la chaktsal lo

You, the slayer of nāgas!

དེ་ནས་སངས་རྒྱས་བཅོམ་ལྡན་འདས་གང་གཱའི་ཀླུང་གི་བྱ་མ་སྙེད་ཀྱིས་གསུངས་པའི་རིག་སྔགས་འདི་བརྗོད་པར་བྱའོ། །

Then, recite the vidyā-mantra taught by as many blessed buddhas as there are grains of sand in the river Ganges:

ཏདྱ་ཐཱ། བྷོ་བྷོ་བཱཾ་ནཱ་ག་ཨ་དྷི་པ་ཏ་ཡེ། ཨི་དཾ་ནཱི་ལཱཾ་བ་ར་དྷ་ར་ཤ་རཱི་རཾ། བཛྲ་པཱ་ཎི་ཧྲྀ་ད་ཡཾ། ཡཿས་མཱ་ཏི་ཀྲ་མ་ཐ། ཨུཏྶཱ་ད་ནཾ་བྷ་བི་ཥྱ་ཏི།

teyata bho bho vam naga adhipatayé idam nilam bara dhara shariram benza pani hridayam yah smati tramata utsadanam bhabi shyati

tadyathā | bho bho vān | nāgādhipataye | idam nīlām-bara-dhara-śarīraṃ vajrapāṇi-hṛdayaṃ yaḥ smāti-kramatha uccāṭanam bhaviṣyati ||

ཏདྱ་ཐཱ། བུདྡྷ་བུདྡྷ། བི་བུདྡྷ་བི་བུདྡྷ། མ་ཧཱི་པྲཱ་པྟ། ཧ་ར་ཧ་ར། ནཱ་ག་ནཱཾ། པྲ་ཧ་ར་པྲ་ཧ་ར། ནཱ་ག་ནཱཾ། ཅྖིནྡ་ཅྖིནྡ། ནཱ་ག་ཧྲྀ་ད་ཡཱ་ནི། བྷིནྡ་བྷིནྡ། ནཱ་ག་མརྨཱ་ཎི། བི་སཱིརྱནྟུ། ནཱ་ག་ཤ་རཱི་རཱ་ཎི། བི་སྥོཊ་ཡ། ནཱ་ག་ན་ཡ་ནཱ་ནི།

teyata buddha buddha vibuddha vibuddha mahi prapta hara hara naganam prahara prahara naganam chinda chinda naga hridayani bhinda bhinda naga marmani vishiryantu naga sharirani vispotaya naga nayanani

tadyathā | buddha buddha | vibuddha vibuddha | mahīprāpta | hara hara nāgānāṃ | prahara prahara nāgānāṃ | chinda chinda nāga-hṛdayāni | bhindha bhindha nāga-marmāṇi | viśīryantu nāga-śarīrāṇi | visphoṭaya nāganayanāni ||

ཏདྱ་ཐཱ། ཧཱུཾ་ཕཊ། ནཱ་ག་བི་དཱ་ར་ཎཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ནཱ་ག་གོཏྶཱ་ད་ནཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ནཱི་ལཱཾ་བ་ས་ནཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཨ་པྲ་ཏི་ཧ་ཏ་བ་ལ་པ་རཱ་ཀྲ་མཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཀྲྀ་ཏཱནྟཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཀྲྀ་ཏཱ་ནྟ་རཱུ་པཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། རོ་ཥཎཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཏྲཱ་ས་ནཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཀུམྦྷ་ཎྜོ་ཏྶཱ་ད་ནཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། པྲེ་ཏ་པི་ཤཱ་ཅ། བི་ནཱ་ཤ་ཀ་རཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཡཀྵ་ཨ་པ་སྨ་ར། བི་ནཱ་ཤ་ཀ་རཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཧ་ས་ཧ་ས། དྷ་ར་དྷ་ར། མཱ་ར་ཡ་མཱ་ར་ཡ། ནཱ་ཤ་ཡ་ནཱ་ཤ་ཡ། སརྦ་བིགྷྞཾ་བི་ནཱ་ཤ་ཀ་རཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། སརྦ་ཤ་ཏྲུཾ་སཾ་གྷ་བི་ནཱ་ཤ་ཀ་རཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ།

teyata hung pé naga vidaranaya pé nagotsadanaya pé nilam vasanaya pé apratihata bala para kramaya pé kritantaya pé kritanta rupaya pé roshanaya pé trasanaya pé kumbhandotsadanaya pé preta pishaca vinashakaraya pé yaksha apasmara vinashakaraya pé hasa hasa dhara dhara maraya maraya nashaya nashaya sarva bighnam vinashakaraya pé sarva shatrun sangha vinashakaraya pé

tadyathā | hūṃ phaṭ | nāga-vidāraṇāya phaṭ | nāgoccāṭanāya phaṭ | nīlān vasanāya phaṭ | apratihata-bala-parākramāya phaṭ | kṛtāntāya phaṭ | kṛtānta-rūpāya phaṭ | roṣanāya phaṭ | trāsanāya phaṭ | kumbhaṇḍoccāṭanāya phaṭ | preta-piśāca-vināśakarāya phaṭ | yakṣāpāsmara-vināśakarāya phaṭ | hasa hasa | dhara dhara | māraya māraya | nāśaya nāśaya | sarva-vighnān vināśakarāya phaṭ | sarva-śatrūn-saṅgha-vināśakarāya phaṭ ||

ཨོྃ་ནཱི་ལཱཾ་བ་ར་དྷ་ར་བཛྲ་པཱ་ཎི་ཪཱ་ཛྙཱ་པ་ཡ་ཏི་སྭཱ་ཧཱ།

om nilam bhara dhara benza panir ajnapayati soha

oṃ nīlāmbaradhara-vajrapāṇir-ājñāpayati svāhā ||

དེའི་ཆོ་ག་ལ།

The rituals for this mantra are as follows:

གནོད་སྦྱིན་གྱིས་ཟིན་པ་ལ་ཆུ་ལ་སྔགས་ཀྱིས་བཏབ་ལ་གཏོར་ན་བཏང་བར་འགྱུར་རོ། །

If a person is infected by a yakṣa, bless water with the mantra, sprinkle it on the person, and then the spirit will be expelled.

ཀླུ་བཟློག་པར་འདོད་ན་སྨྱག་ཤད་ཀྱི་ལྕུག་མའམ། བལ་པོ་སེའུ་ཡི་ལྕུག་མས་བྱའོ། །

If you wish to repel nāgas, use a branch of meadowsweet or Nepalese pomegranate trees.2

ཡི་དྭགས་དང༌བརྗེད་བྱེད་རྣམས་ལ་ནི་སྐུད་པས་བྱའོ། །

Against pretas and apasmāras,3 use a blessed thread.

རིམས་ནད་མེད་པར་བྱ་བ་དང༌། གཞོགས་ཕྱེད་ན་བ་དང༌། ཡི་ག་འཆུས་པ་ལ་ནི་སྐུད་པ་སྔོན་པོས་བྱའོ། །

In order to dispel infectious diseases, hemiplegia, loss of appetite, use a blessed blue thread.

ནོར་འདོད་ན་ཞག་གཅིག་སྨྱུང་བ་འདུག་སྟེ་པོག་ཕོར་གྱིས་བདུགས་ན་རྨི་ལམ་དུ་དགེ་བ་དང་མི་དགེ་བའི་དོན་ཐམས་ཅད་སྟོན་ལ་གསེར་གྱི་དོང་ཚེ་བདུན་སྟོང་སྦྱིན་པར་བྱེད་དོ། །

If you desire wealth, fast for one day and burn incense. Thus within your dreams all the virtue and non-virtue will be revealed and eventually you will receive seven thousand gold coins.

རྒྱས་བཏབ་པ་དགྲོལ་བར་འདོད་ན་ཐལ་བས་བྱའོ། །

If you wish to release a seal, use ash.

སྒོ་ལྕགས་དབྱེ་བར་འདོད་ན་ཡུངས་ཀར་གྱིས་བྱའོ། །

If you wish to unlock something, use mustard seeds.

འཇིགས་པ་ཐམས་ཅད་སྲུང་བ་ལ་ནི་མར་རྙིང་པའམ། ཐལ་བའམ་ཡུངས་ཀར་གྱིས་བྱའོ། །

For protection against danger, use old butter, ash or mustard seeds.

ནད་ཀྱིས་འཇིགས་པ་ཐམས་ཅད་ལ་ནི་སྐུད་པ་སྔོན་པོ་ལ་བསྲུང་བའི་མདུད་པ་བྱས་ཏེ་མགུལ་དུ་བཏགས་ན་བསྲུང་བའི་མཆོག་ཏུ་འགྱུར་རོ། །

Against all dangerous diseases, tie a protection knot with a blessed blue thread and wear it around your neck. This will provide supreme protection.

བྱིས་པ་གདོན་གྱིས་ཉེན་པ་ལ་ནི་ཚོན་སྣ་ལྔའི་སྐུད་པ་ལ་བསྲུང་བའི་མདུད་པ་བྱས་ཏེ་མགུལ་དུ་བཏགས་ན་བསྲུང་བའི་མཆོག་ཏུ་འགྱུར་རོ། །

Against grahas that befall children4 tie a protection knot with a blessed five-colored thread and wear it around your neck. This will provide supreme protection.

ཆོམ་རྐུན་བཟློག་པར་འདོད་ན་སས་བྱའོ། །

If you wish to avert thieves, use earth.

དུག་ལ་ནི་རྩྭ་ཀུ་ཤས་བྱབ་པར་བྱའོ། །

For poison, use in cleansing with kuśa grass.

བདག་བསྲུང་བ་ལ་ནི་ཡིད་ཀྱིས་སམ་ཆུས་བྱའོ། །

In order to protect yourself, use it mentally or use water.

གཞན་བསྲུང་བ་ལ་ནི་སྐུད་པ་སྔོན་པོས་བྱའོ། །

To protect others, use a blessed blue thread.

ལས་དེ་ཐམས་ཅད་ལ་སྔགས་བརྗོད་པ་ནི་ལན་གསུམ་མམ། བདུན་ནམ། བཅུ་བཞི་འམ། ཉི་ཤུ་རྩ་གཅིག་གམ། བརྒྱ་རྩ་བརྒྱད་པར་བྱའོ། །དེ་ལྟར་བྱས་ན་འགྲུབ་པར་འགྱུར་རོ། །

For all these activities, recite the mantra three, seven, fourteen, twenty-one, or one hundred and eight times, and all will be accomplished.

མཆོད་རྟེན་སྐུ་གདུང་དན་ལྡན་པའི་དྲུང་དུ་མེ་ཏོག་སྔོན་པོས་མཆོད་དེ། སྔགས་སྟོང་བཟླས་བརྗོད་བྱས་ན་འགྲུབ་པར་འགྱུར་རོ། །

If you offer blue flowers and recite the mantra one thousand times in front of a stūpa containing relics, you will reach accomplishment.

འཕགས་པ་ལག་ན་རྡོ་རྗེ་གོས་སྔོན་པོ་ཅན་གྱི་ཆོ་ག་ཞེས་བྱ་བའི་གཟུངས་རྫོགས་སོ།། །།

This concludes The Noble “The Rituals for Blue-Clad Vajrapāṇi” Incantation.

རྒྱ་གར་གྱི་མཁན་པོ་ཛྙཱ་ན་གརྦྷ་དང་། ལོ་ཙཱ་བ་བནྡྷེ་ཀླུའི་དབང་པོས་བསྒྱུར།།

This text was translated by the Indian paṇḍita Jñānagarbha and the lotsāwa monk, Lu’i Wangpo.5

 | Translated by Stefan Mang and Peter Woods, 2019. Many thanks to Wiesiek Mical for checking the Sanskrit mantra.

↑ Yakṣas are a class of semi-divine beings that haunt or protect natural places and cities. They can be malevolent or benevolent, and are known for bestowing wealth and worldly boons.

↑ The plant smyag shad likely refers to Spiraea arcuata, a type of meadowsweet. The plant bal po’i se’u (dāḍima) appears to be a type of pomegranate tree commonly found in Nepal.

↑ Apasmāra (brjed byed) is the name for epilepsy, but also refers to the demon that causes epilepsy and loss of consciousness.

↑ Grahas are a type of evil spirit known to exert a harmful influence on the human body and mind. Grahas are closely associated with the planets and other astronomical bodies.

↑ The Tibetan edition and English translation of this text follow the Dergé recension (Tōh. 748). However, we have replaced the translators’ colophon with the one given in the Tibetan imperial translation catalogue (ldan dkar ma) as well as other editions of this dhāraṇī. As these sources confirm, this text was translated during the first dissemination of Buddhism to Tibet. The Dergé recension’s colophon is identical with that of the commentary attributed to Nāgārjuna (Tōh. 2675). Since the Dergé recension of this dhāraṇī differs only slightly from that of the older version, there is reason to believe that the Dergé recension is a revised edition based on Nāgārjuna’s commentary (Tōh. 2675). The colophon in the Dergé recension reads: “This text was translated by the Indian paṇḍita Dīpaṃkara Śrījñāna and the Tibetan Lotsāwa Gya Tsöndrü Sengé at the entrance gate of Śrī Nālandā.” (rgya kar gyi mkhan po dīpaṃkara śrījñāna dang/ bod kyi lo tsā ba rgya brtson ’grus seng ges dpal na len dra’i sgo ’gram du bsgyur/)

[hawaiiayla]

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The 8th Novel of the Internationally Acclaimed Chaos Seeds SagaA mesmerizing tale reminiscent of the brutality of Goblin Slayer and the majesty of Game of ThronesAudible's Customer Favorite of the Year!#1 Audiobook 2017#1 in Cyberpunk and Video Game FantasyOver 100,000 THOUSAND positive reviewsWelcome my friends!Welcome... to ?The Land!?The battle of the dead was won, but at a great cost. Sion, leader of the Mist Village was left with only pain and regret as Richter was claimed by the abyss.What no one but the abandoned chaos seed knows is that he narrowly avoided the curse of the lich Singh, a curse that still hangs above his head. Now, surrounded by miles of darkness and tons of crushing rock, Richter has to find his way back into the light.The only problem is that this monster of a man is being pursued by monsters, a demon and his own foolish choices. Faced with all the dangers of the deep dark, what will Richter say when the buried horrors of The Land come a calling and asked if

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[fretitan]

The White Dragon | Self Para

Everyone’s got a story, be it sad, happy, or downright disgusting. This is Titan’s story, though it might be a little long-winded, please bear with it. Titan doesn’t remember much from when he was little, the first thing he could remember was the soft and fluffy white wings of his Dragon parent, The White Dragon Weisslogia. For whatever reason, Weisslogia took him in and decided to raise him as his own. Weisslogia would always say he only took Titan in because he was in the market for a pet, which Titan still has a hard time believing. He was probably joking to tease Titan, right? RIGHT?

Weisslogia The White Dragon was a kind soul, he was selfless and always acted in the best effort for others, he just was that kind of person. Taking in a human child was a first for him, though. It was just something about Titan was so endearing, maybe it was his paternal instinct to protect him that compelled him to take this child under his wings; or was it the guilt welling up inside him that made him do it? No one will ever be certain what his intentions were, but it was one of  the best decisions he'd made for himself. Raising a child was no easy ordeal, but it was somewhat rewarding and a happy experience for the White Dragon dad. 

Before taking Titan in, Weisslogia had been flying around the country looking for a place to rest and make his home. Dragons are huge, but at the same time, they aren't a common thing to see. It's a good thing he's white, he can somewhat blend in with the clouds, but there wasn't much he could have done about his shadow. While on his search for a secluded nesting ground, he came across what he thought was a mountain pass, but he was wrong. It wasn't empty, it was a bandit hideout. No biggie, though. Bandits are tiny humans, what can they do against a dragon? Spoiler: Not much. With one swoop of his tail, all of the bandits were knocked down and out like a bunch of bowling pins. Gg ez. As he was about to depart to find somewhere not inhabited by scum of society, what emerged from the cave at the food of the mountain pass was a child, no more than 4 years old. Yup, you guessed it, that was Titan. He was the son, or well that's what Weisslogia assumed to be the son of one of the bandits. 

"Oh god, what do I do now? How will this human child take care of itself?" He was panicking a little internally, but on the outside he was calm and composed, he had to, he had image to upkeep! A dragon panicking? Huh? Unheard of! So what was he supposed to do now? Use some magic ninja skills and knock the kid out too? No! That would be too cruel, oh dear, what to do? He didn't want to be blamed for child abuse, so he couldn't possibly karate chop him in the neck like they do in those kung-fu movies and have him pass out. As the White Dragon had an internal strife with himself, the toddler had walked up to him and started cuddling one of his legs. He didn't even notice until since he was so deep in thought.Wait, what was this? He looked down at his food and saw the boy falling asleep on hid soft, furry leg. Awww, how cute. He let out a soft sigh, it was time to make a decision. He looked over at the toppled bandits and then to the child, how could he possibly leave a child like this behind with them? He'd probably be malnourished for most of his life then turn to a life of crime like his dead-beat dad. 

That's when he decided he needed to take this child with him, it was the only logical reason, right? It was the only one that seemed right. Damn it Weisslogia, always have to be the good guy when it's only going to be troublesome to you. Weislogia put the sleeping child in the palm of his hands and made sure he was safe before he spread his beautiful white wings and took off gently as to make sure the child wasn't in danger of  falling from such a height. He found a secluded forest to nest, finally, they were alone. "So how am I going to do this?" He sighed once more, but looking at the child and knowing he's safe from such a cruel fate he was subjected to, he felt relieved and kind of happy. You did good, Weisslogia. 

He built a treehouse capable of housing them, and that's where Titan spent most of his time growing up. A year later, Titan had grown quite a bit and Weisslogia made the decision to teach him how to read and write, and on top of that, Dragon Slayer Magic. It wasn't an easy decision for him make, but he thought it would have been for the best since he thought of Titan as his own son. He spent countless hours training under the white dragon, honing and polishing his skills. Weisslogia was the kind of mentor that wants everything to be perfect, so Titan would sometimes even train past the point of exhaustion. That was when Weisslogia taught him about eating his element to recharge. It helped him recover from fatigue faster, which was a huge relied to young Titan. Year after year, their bond as father and son grew stronger, and when Titan became a teenager, he started sparring practice with his dragon dad. Ofcourse the white dragon won every single time, but with every encounter, he grew stronger, both physically and mentally. Weisslogia couldn't be prouder as a mentor and as a father. 

The 7th day, of the 7th month of the year 2007, Weisslogia, The White Dragon vanished without a trace. Titan didn't know what happened, why his mentor and father left him. For about a year, he blamed himself. He went through an emo phase, but following that, he joined a guild. That guild was Sabertooth, and that was also when his healing process started. He was taught that was okay to feel the way he was feeling, but what wasn't okay was to blame himself the way he did. He learnt a lot under the guidance of his guild master and guild mates.

[ngakpakonchokdorjetsondonmystic]

<strong>Rituals for the Blue-Clad Vajrapāṇi</strong><em>from the Words of the Buddha</em>

༄༅། །འཕགས་པ་ལག་ན་རྡོ་རྗེ་གོས་སྔོན་པོ་ཅན་གྱི་ཆོ་ག་ཞེས་བྱ་བའི་གཟུངས་བཞུགས་སོ། །

Rituals for the Blue-Clad Vajrapāṇi

from the Words of the Buddha

 རྒྱ་གར་སྐད་དུ། ཨཱཪྻ་ནཱི་ལཱཾ་བ་ར་དྷ་ར་བཛྲ་པཱ་ཎི་ཀལྤ་ནཱ་མ་དྷཱ་ར་ཎཱི།

In the language of India: ārya-nīlāmbara-dhara-vajrapāṇi-kalpa-nāma-dhāraṇī

བོད་སྐད་དུ། འཕགས་པ་ལག་ན་རྡོ་རྗེ་གོས་སྔོན་པོ་ཅན་གྱི་ཆོ་ག་ཞེས་བྱ་བའི་གཟུངས།

In the language of Tibet: pakpa lakna dorjé gö ngönchen kyi choka shyejawé zung

In the English language: The Noble Incantation entitled ‘The Rituals for the Blue-Clad Vajrapāṇi’

 དཀོན་མཆོག་གསུམ་ལ་ཕྱག་འཚལ་ལོ། །

könchok sum la chaktsal lo

Homage to the Three Jewels!

 གནོད་སྦྱིན་གྱི་སྡེ་དཔོན་ཆེན་པོ་ལག་ན་རྡོ་རྗེ་གོས་སྔོན་པོ་ཅན།

nöjin gyi depön chenpo lak na dorjé gö ngönpochen

Homage to the overlord of yakṣas,1 Blue-Clad Vajrapāṇi,

སངས་རྒྱས་གང་གཱའི་ཀླུང་གི་བྱེ་མ་སྙེད་ཀྱིས་རྗེས་སུ་གནང་བ།

sangye gang gé lung gi jema nyé kyi jesu nangwa

Authorized by as many Buddhas as grains of sand in the river Ganges,

མཆེ་བ་གཙིགས་པ་དང་འཚམ་པ།

chewa tsikpa dang tsampa

You who appear baring your fangs;

མིག་མེ་མདག་གི་ཕུང་པོ་འདྲ་བ།

mik medak gi pungpo drawa

You whose eyes are like masses of flames;

དབུགས་མེ་ལྕེ་ལྟར་འབར་བ།

uk meché tar barwa

You whose breath blazes with fiery tongues;

འཇིགས་པའི་ང་རོ་ཅན།

jikpé ngaro chen

You whose roar terrifies;

ལག་པ་དང༌རྐང་པ་ཀླུ་ནོར་རྒྱས་ཀྱི་བུས་བརྒྱན་པ།

lakpa dang kangpa lu nor gyé kyi bü gyenpa

You whose hands and legs are adorned with the nāga Vāsuki;

ཀླུ་ནག་པོ་སེ་རལ་ཁར་ཐོགས་པ།

lu nakpo seral khar tokpa

You who sport the nāga Kāla as a sash;

ཀླུ་དགའ་བོ་དང་ཉེ་དགའ་བོ་འབར་བས་རྣ་ཆ་བྱས་པ།

lu gawo dang nyé gawo barwé na cha jepa

You who make the nāgas Nanda and Upananda your earrings;

སྦྲུལ་འབར་བའི་རིན་པོ་ཆེའི་ཅོད་པན་ཐོགས་པ།

drul barwé rinpoche chöpen tokpa

You who don a jeweled crown of blazing snakes;

སྦྲུལ་གདུག་པ་འབར་བ་ཟ་བ།

drul dukpa barwa zawa

You who consume blazing poisonous serpents;

བཞིན་རྒྱས་པ།

shyin gyepa

You whose visage is expansive;

སྨིན་མ་དང༌དཔྲལ་བ་བསྡུས་པ།

minma dang tralwa düpa

You whose eyebrows and forehead are tensed;

ཡ་སོས་མ་མཆུ་མནན་པ།

yasö ma chu nenpa

You whose upper teeth bite your lower lip;

གཤིན་རྗེའི་ཆ་བྱད་ཅན།

shinjé chajé chen

You whose accoutrements are those of Yāma;

ལྕེ་གློག་ལྟར་འགྱུ་བ།

ché lok tar gyuwa

You whose tongue moves as fast as lightning;

གསུས་པོ་ཆེ་སྦྲུལ་ཟ་བ།

süpo ché drul zawa

You whose large belly digests snakes;

ལག་པ་བརྡབས་པའི་སྒྲས་འཇིགས་པར་བྱེད་པ།

lakpa dabpé dré jikpar jepa

You who terrify with the sound of clapping hands;

ཀླུའི་རྒྱལ་པོ་འདབ་བཟང་སྐ་རགས་སུ་བཅིངས་པ།

lü gyalpo dab zang karak su chingpa

You, on whose belt, Garuḍa, the ruler of nāgas, is tied;

ཨ་ལ་ལ་ཞེས་སྒྲོག་པར་བྱེད་པ།

a la la shyé drokpar jepa

You who proclaim, “A la la!”

རྒྱ་མཚོའི་ཟབས་སུ་དཔག་ཚད་བརྒྱད་ཁྲི་ཡོད་པ་རྐང་པའི་པུས་མོར་ཕྱིན་པ།

gyatsö zab su paktsé gyé tri yöpa kangpé pümor chinpa

You whose shins reach 80,000 leagues down to the depths of the ocean;

དབང་པོ་དང༌ཉི་མ་ཕྲག་པ་ལ་བཀུར་བ།

wangpo dang nyima trakpa la kurwa

You who bear Indra and Sūrya upon your shoulders;

ཀླུ་ཐམས་ཅད་རླག་པར་བྱེད་པ།

lu tamché lakpar jepa

You who annihilate all nāgas;

གད་རྒྱངས་ཆེན་པོ་སྒྲོགས་པས་ཀུན་ཏུ་འཁྲུགས་པར་བྱེད་པ།

gegyang chenpo drokpé küntu trukpar jepa

You whose bellowing laughter makes everything tremble;

གཤིན་རྗེའི་གཟུགས་ཅན།

shinjé zukchen

You who have the appearance of Yāma;

ཁམས་གསུམ་པ་འཇིགས་པར་བྱེད་པ།

kham sumpa jikpar jepa

You who frighten the three realms;

ཀླུ་རྣམས་འཆི་བར་བྱེད་པ་ལ་ཕྱག་འཚལ་ལོ། །

lu nam chiwar jepa la chaktsal lo

You, the slayer of nāgas!

དེ་ནས་སངས་རྒྱས་བཅོམ་ལྡན་འདས་གང་གཱའི་ཀླུང་གི་བྱ་མ་སྙེད་ཀྱིས་གསུངས་པའི་རིག་སྔགས་འདི་བརྗོད་པར་བྱའོ། །

Then, recite the vidyā-mantra taught by as many blessed buddhas as there are grains of sand in the river Ganges:

ཏདྱ་ཐཱ། བྷོ་བྷོ་བཱཾ་ནཱ་ག་ཨ་དྷི་པ་ཏ་ཡེ། ཨི་དཾ་ནཱི་ལཱཾ་བ་ར་དྷ་ར་ཤ་རཱི་རཾ། བཛྲ་པཱ་ཎི་ཧྲྀ་ད་ཡཾ། ཡཿས་མཱ་ཏི་ཀྲ་མ་ཐ། ཨུཏྶཱ་ད་ནཾ་བྷ་བི་ཥྱ་ཏི།

teyata bho bho vam naga adhipatayé idam nilam bara dhara shariram benza pani hridayam yah smati tramata utsadanam bhabi shyati

tadyathā | bho bho vān | nāgādhipataye | idam nīlām-bara-dhara-śarīraṃ vajrapāṇi-hṛdayaṃ yaḥ smāti-kramatha uccāṭanam bhaviṣyati ||

ཏདྱ་ཐཱ། བུདྡྷ་བུདྡྷ། བི་བུདྡྷ་བི་བུདྡྷ། མ་ཧཱི་པྲཱ་པྟ། ཧ་ར་ཧ་ར། ནཱ་ག་ནཱཾ། པྲ་ཧ་ར་པྲ་ཧ་ར། ནཱ་ག་ནཱཾ། ཅྖིནྡ་ཅྖིནྡ། ནཱ་ག་ཧྲྀ་ད་ཡཱ་ནི། བྷིནྡ་བྷིནྡ། ནཱ་ག་མརྨཱ་ཎི། བི་སཱིརྱནྟུ། ནཱ་ག་ཤ་རཱི་རཱ་ཎི། བི་སྥོཊ་ཡ། ནཱ་ག་ན་ཡ་ནཱ་ནི།

teyata buddha buddha vibuddha vibuddha mahi prapta hara hara naganam prahara prahara naganam chinda chinda naga hridayani bhinda bhinda naga marmani vishiryantu naga sharirani vispotaya naga nayanani

tadyathā | buddha buddha | vibuddha vibuddha | mahīprāpta | hara hara nāgānāṃ | prahara prahara nāgānāṃ | chinda chinda nāga-hṛdayāni | bhindha bhindha nāga-marmāṇi | viśīryantu nāga-śarīrāṇi | visphoṭaya nāganayanāni ||

ཏདྱ་ཐཱ། ཧཱུཾ་ཕཊ། ནཱ་ག་བི་དཱ་ར་ཎཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ནཱ་ག་གོཏྶཱ་ད་ནཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ནཱི་ལཱཾ་བ་ས་ནཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཨ་པྲ་ཏི་ཧ་ཏ་བ་ལ་པ་རཱ་ཀྲ་མཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཀྲྀ་ཏཱནྟཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཀྲྀ་ཏཱ་ནྟ་རཱུ་པཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། རོ་ཥཎཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཏྲཱ་ས་ནཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཀུམྦྷ་ཎྜོ་ཏྶཱ་ད་ནཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། པྲེ་ཏ་པི་ཤཱ་ཅ། བི་ནཱ་ཤ་ཀ་རཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཡཀྵ་ཨ་པ་སྨ་ར། བི་ནཱ་ཤ་ཀ་རཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། ཧ་ས་ཧ་ས། དྷ་ར་དྷ་ར། མཱ་ར་ཡ་མཱ་ར་ཡ། ནཱ་ཤ་ཡ་ནཱ་ཤ་ཡ། སརྦ་བིགྷྞཾ་བི་ནཱ་ཤ་ཀ་རཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ། སརྦ་ཤ་ཏྲུཾ་སཾ་གྷ་བི་ནཱ་ཤ་ཀ་རཱ་ཡ་ཕཊ།

teyata hung pé naga vidaranaya pé nagotsadanaya pé nilam vasanaya pé apratihata bala para kramaya pé kritantaya pé kritanta rupaya pé roshanaya pé trasanaya pé kumbhandotsadanaya pé preta pishaca vinashakaraya pé yaksha apasmara vinashakaraya pé hasa hasa dhara dhara maraya maraya nashaya nashaya sarva bighnam vinashakaraya pé sarva shatrun sangha vinashakaraya pé

tadyathā | hūṃ phaṭ | nāga-vidāraṇāya phaṭ | nāgoccāṭanāya phaṭ | nīlān vasanāya phaṭ | apratihata-bala-parākramāya phaṭ | kṛtāntāya phaṭ | kṛtānta-rūpāya phaṭ | roṣanāya phaṭ | trāsanāya phaṭ | kumbhaṇḍoccāṭanāya phaṭ | preta-piśāca-vināśakarāya phaṭ | yakṣāpāsmara-vināśakarāya phaṭ | hasa hasa | dhara dhara | māraya māraya | nāśaya nāśaya | sarva-vighnān vināśakarāya phaṭ | sarva-śatrūn-saṅgha-vināśakarāya phaṭ ||

ཨོྃ་ནཱི་ལཱཾ་བ་ར་དྷ་ར་བཛྲ་པཱ་ཎི་ཪཱ་ཛྙཱ་པ་ཡ་ཏི་སྭཱ་ཧཱ།

om nilam bhara dhara benza panir ajnapayati soha

oṃ nīlāmbaradhara-vajrapāṇir-ājñāpayati svāhā ||

དེའི་ཆོ་ག་ལ།

The rituals for this mantra are as follows:

གནོད་སྦྱིན་གྱིས་ཟིན་པ་ལ་ཆུ་ལ་སྔགས་ཀྱིས་བཏབ་ལ་གཏོར་ན་བཏང་བར་འགྱུར་རོ། །

If a person is infected by a yakṣa, bless water with the mantra, sprinkle it on the person, and then the spirit will be expelled.

ཀླུ་བཟློག་པར་འདོད་ན་སྨྱག་ཤད་ཀྱི་ལྕུག་མའམ། བལ་པོ་སེའུ་ཡི་ལྕུག་མས་བྱའོ། །

If you wish to repel nāgas, use a branch of meadowsweet or Nepalese pomegranate trees.2

ཡི་དྭགས་དང༌བརྗེད་བྱེད་རྣམས་ལ་ནི་སྐུད་པས་བྱའོ། །

Against pretas and apasmāras,3 use a blessed thread.

རིམས་ནད་མེད་པར་བྱ་བ་དང༌། གཞོགས་ཕྱེད་ན་བ་དང༌། ཡི་ག་འཆུས་པ་ལ་ནི་སྐུད་པ་སྔོན་པོས་བྱའོ། །

In order to dispel infectious diseases, hemiplegia, loss of appetite, use a blessed blue thread.

ནོར་འདོད་ན་ཞག་གཅིག་སྨྱུང་བ་འདུག་སྟེ་པོག་ཕོར་གྱིས་བདུགས་ན་རྨི་ལམ་དུ་དགེ་བ་དང་མི་དགེ་བའི་དོན་ཐམས་ཅད་སྟོན་ལ་གསེར་གྱི་དོང་ཚེ་བདུན་སྟོང་སྦྱིན་པར་བྱེད་དོ། །

If you desire wealth, fast for one day and burn incense. Thus within your dreams all the virtue and non-virtue will be revealed and eventually you will receive seven thousand gold coins.

རྒྱས་བཏབ་པ་དགྲོལ་བར་འདོད་ན་ཐལ་བས་བྱའོ། །

If you wish to release a seal, use ash.

སྒོ་ལྕགས་དབྱེ་བར་འདོད་ན་ཡུངས་ཀར་གྱིས་བྱའོ། །

If you wish to unlock something, use mustard seeds.

འཇིགས་པ་ཐམས་ཅད་སྲུང་བ་ལ་ནི་མར་རྙིང་པའམ། ཐལ་བའམ་ཡུངས་ཀར་གྱིས་བྱའོ། །

For protection against danger, use old butter, ash or mustard seeds.

ནད་ཀྱིས་འཇིགས་པ་ཐམས་ཅད་ལ་ནི་སྐུད་པ་སྔོན་པོ་ལ་བསྲུང་བའི་མདུད་པ་བྱས་ཏེ་མགུལ་དུ་བཏགས་ན་བསྲུང་བའི་མཆོག་ཏུ་འགྱུར་རོ། །

Against all dangerous diseases, tie a protection knot with a blessed blue thread and wear it around your neck. This will provide supreme protection.

བྱིས་པ་གདོན་གྱིས་ཉེན་པ་ལ་ནི་ཚོན་སྣ་ལྔའི་སྐུད་པ་ལ་བསྲུང་བའི་མདུད་པ་བྱས་ཏེ་མགུལ་དུ་བཏགས་ན་བསྲུང་བའི་མཆོག་ཏུ་འགྱུར་རོ། །

Against grahas that befall children4 tie a protection knot with a blessed five-colored thread and wear it around your neck. This will provide supreme protection.

ཆོམ་རྐུན་བཟློག་པར་འདོད་ན་སས་བྱའོ། །

If you wish to avert thieves, use earth.

དུག་ལ་ནི་རྩྭ་ཀུ་ཤས་བྱབ་པར་བྱའོ། །

For poison, use in cleansing with kuśa grass.

བདག་བསྲུང་བ་ལ་ནི་ཡིད་ཀྱིས་སམ་ཆུས་བྱའོ། །

In order to protect yourself, use it mentally or use water.

གཞན་བསྲུང་བ་ལ་ནི་སྐུད་པ་སྔོན་པོས་བྱའོ། །

To protect others, use a blessed blue thread.

ལས་དེ་ཐམས་ཅད་ལ་སྔགས་བརྗོད་པ་ནི་ལན་གསུམ་མམ། བདུན་ནམ། བཅུ་བཞི་འམ། ཉི་ཤུ་རྩ་གཅིག་གམ། བརྒྱ་རྩ་བརྒྱད་པར་བྱའོ། །དེ་ལྟར་བྱས་ན་འགྲུབ་པར་འགྱུར་རོ། །

For all these activities, recite the mantra three, seven, fourteen, twenty-one, or one hundred and eight times, and all will be accomplished.

མཆོད་རྟེན་སྐུ་གདུང་དན་ལྡན་པའི་དྲུང་དུ་མེ་ཏོག་སྔོན་པོས་མཆོད་དེ། སྔགས་སྟོང་བཟླས་བརྗོད་བྱས་ན་འགྲུབ་པ��་འགྱུར་རོ། །

If you offer blue flowers and recite the mantra one thousand times in front of a stūpa containing relics, you will reach accomplishment.

འཕགས་པ་ལག་ན་རྡོ་རྗེ་གོས་སྔོན་པོ་ཅན་གྱི་ཆོ་ག་ཞེས་བྱ་བའི་གཟུངས་རྫོགས་སོ།། །།

This concludes The Noble “The Rituals for Blue-Clad Vajrapāṇi” Incantation.

རྒྱ་གར་གྱི་མཁན་པོ་ཛྙཱ་ན་གརྦྷ་དང་། ལོ་ཙཱ་བ་བནྡྷེ་ཀླུའི་དབང་པོས་བསྒྱུར།།

This text was translated by the Indian paṇḍita Jñānagarbha and the lotsāwa monk, Lu’i Wangpo.5

 | Translated by Stefan Mang and Peter Woods, 2019. Many thanks to Wiesiek Mical for checking the Sanskrit mantra.

↑ Yakṣas are a class of semi-divine beings that haunt or protect natural places and cities. They can be malevolent or benevolent, and are known for bestowing wealth and worldly boons.

↑ The plant smyag shad likely refers to Spiraea arcuata, a type of meadowsweet. The plant bal po’i se’u (dāḍima) appears to be a type of pomegranate tree commonly found in Nepal.

↑ Apasmāra (brjed byed) is the name for epilepsy, but also refers to the demon that causes epilepsy and loss of consciousness.

↑ Grahas are a type of evil spirit known to exert a harmful influence on the human body and mind. Grahas are closely associated with the planets and other astronomical bodies.

↑ The Tibetan edition and English translation of this text follow the Dergé recension (Tōh. 748). However, we have replaced the translators’ colophon with the one given in the Tibetan imperial translation catalogue (ldan dkar ma) as well as other editions of this dhāraṇī. As these sources confirm, this text was translated during the first dissemination of Buddhism to Tibet. The Dergé recension’s colophon is identical with that of the commentary attributed to Nāgārjuna (Tōh. 2675). Since the Dergé recension of this dhāraṇī differs only slightly from that of the older version, there is reason to believe that the Dergé recension is a revised edition based on Nāgārjuna’s commentary (Tōh. 2675). The colophon in the Dergé recension reads: “This text was translated by the Indian paṇḍita Dīpaṃkara Śrījñāna and the Tibetan Lotsāwa Gya Tsöndrü Sengé at the entrance gate of Śrī Nālandā.” (rgya kar gyi mkhan po dīpaṃkara śrījñāna dang/ bod kyi lo tsā ba rgya brtson ’grus seng ges dpal na len dra’i sgo ’gram du bsgyur/)