#permiter over flow pools

[kewlgifs]

Pool Hot Tub Hot tub - huge contemporary backyard stone and rectangular lap hot tub idea

[8o8sims]

New York Pool Inspiration for a massive contemporary backyard hot tub renovation using rectangular lap stones

[katnapsh]

Lap Pool Inspiration for a huge contemporary backyard stone and rectangular lap hot tub remodel

[katemids]

Lap New York a sizable contemporary backyard image with a rectangular lap hot tub

[viirinsims]

New York Pool

[ikinremu]

Just A Taste

james potter x fem!reader

A smut drabble!

tags: oral (f receiving), praise

! Smut Warning !

“Fuck, can’t wait anymore.” James whined, sultry breath grazing over the mild separation of your thighs, “I need that pretty pussy on my tongue.”

He’d found zero hesitation in the swift removal of your skirt, tossing it God knows where, before switching his heated intentions to the damp fabric of your panties.

His warm, callous digits seized the waistband, so hungrily guiding the sodden material to pool around your knees without a mere invitation for mercy - let alone patience.

Your abdomen whirred with a deep, anticipatory heat as his thick, bare biceps propped themselves within the silk underside of your thighs. Fiercely, he yanked your arousal toward him, gently flexed forearms looping over your thighs.

“Can I taste you, baby?” James heaved out, just barely permitting the slick angle of his tongue to graze your slit - shocking a harsh shiver down your spine.

Eyes subtly widening, you rolled your lips against one and other, a soft confirmation flowing from your own tongue.

“Jesus,” He breathed, as though granted his greatest wish, allowing no slight ounce of time before delving in like a man starved.

His thick, wonderfully familiar fingertips dug upon your upper-thighs as the damp, poised angle of his tongue stroked your soaked folds - gently flicking at the dire ache of your clit, drawing bundles of tormented mewls from your lips.

“Oh, fuck-” Your whimper crept through a following sharp intake of breath. It was almost as though each singular time James’ supple lips met your arousal, your pupils clouded over, body somehow replenished by the warm chamber of his mouth.

Betrayed by reflexes, your fulfilled frame wiggled a little, sensitivity overpowering any and all competitors as your gently spread legs began to squirm.

“Stay still for me baby, I know you can.” James encouraged, tipped tongue slowly breaching your walls, wet, skilful point circling over your pulsing entrance, “Good fucking girl.”

Rather to your own avail, his words shot straight through your entirety, fluttering down in a path of sheer humidity. His large, splayed palms began to desperately knead the thick flesh of your thighs, tongue trailing your clit with new-found pacing.

He groaned against your soaked, softly beating cunt, offering your, now somewhat warmed, thighs an appreciative squeeze, “Never gonna get bored of my head between these sweet fucking thighs. Never.”

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the requests/asks feature on my page - it’d be greatly appreciated!

[agirlandherquill]

the killing crown

"What have you done?" Shock numbed her fingers. In a way, it was a relief, a small mercy. It meant she did not feel the crown being torn from her grasp and flung at her feet. The sound of crystal shattering on the dais stung her senses, she breathed in sharply and repeated her question, firmer. "What have you done?" His response took a moment. He was too busy marvelling the spectacle from his perch on the throne. Her throne. His lopsided grin only sickened her stomach. "Righted a wrong, something that's been in the making for many a year now." "Many?" Her heart battered her ribs, as if her chest were a cage it could not escape. She would have doubled over if it were not a sign of weakness. He had destroyed her crown, placed himself upon her throne - she was damned if she would let him see her fall at his feet. "It took time of course, and plans, many, many lovely plans - to find a way to see you, to study you, and eventually, meet you," He mimed tipping a hat at her, "Your Highness. Though I never did plan for things to go this far. It wasn't an unwelcome turn of events of course." He swung his legs off of her throne and bounded over to her, grasping her by the elbows. "Calm that fire in your eyes, this," He squeezed her flesh, tenderly, "Was no betrayal. It was simply an unexpected affair. I did not take it for granted, I hope you know that." She could not tease her arms free from his grasp, her heart would not permit her to do so, instead she leant her head as far from him as it would go. "You manipulated me. You betrayed me." "I told you, we were never my plan, but we happened all the same. Oh, the times we had, didn't we?" "Time you stole, just as you steal from me now." One hand travelled from her elbow to her face, his thumb gently stroked her cheek. "Do not pretend that you never got anything from it. You enjoyed it as much as I." "This enjoyment has reached its end. As have you." Her forehead slammed into his nose with enough force to break it, blood hit her skin, it singed on her flushed flesh, her anger heating her body as if it were the fuel for the fires of hell. He stumbled back, his leg caught on one of the long, flowing overskirts of her gown that had pooled at her feet and he went flying to the ground. She flung herself at him, her fingers slicing themselves open on the jagged edge of her crown as she swiped it from the floor and pressed the shattered point of its helm to his throat. "I would have let you take the crown, all of it," She breathed in his ear, leaning over him, "But the one thing I will never allow you to take is my heart."

[phnmnt]

Shen Yuan shixiong AU - Part 14

Upon returning to the sect, Shen Yuan goes to report his work to the sect master and his shizun. When everything has been said, Yue Qingyuan surprisingly praises Shen Yuan for his skills while Shen Qingqiu states a little more reasonably that he will not permit him to go out again without an emergency summoning talisman. Yue Qingyuan seems happy to hear that and a gentle smile spreads on his face. “Shidi is so doting with his first disciple. Shizhi is very lucky.” Which earns him a "Hmph!" and an angry silence. Shen Yuan, used to their (comedy) routine, ignores them both with a polite smile. (He had tried mending things between them before, but to no avail. His shizun refused to tell him anything and the Yue Qingyuan always gave him a kicked puppy expression whenever he mentioned their relationship and it drove him crazy.)

To consolidate his new foundation and gained techniques, Shen Yuan asks his shizun if he can enter seclusion, to which Shen Qingqiu eventually agrees. His expression still as cold as usual, the latter fills his disciple's hands with various immortal medicines like a mother hen. (Mu Qingfang and Qi Qingqi, who were passing by, both try to fight the urge to laugh when seeing the look of hopelessness on Shen Yuan's face as the elixirs and small bottles starts to form a small mountain in his arms.) Shen Qingqiu then tells Shen Yuan to use the Ling Xi Caves, usually reserved for the seniors in the sect, instead of the low-level ones, confusing his disciple. The latter knew his shizun planned on using the spiritual caves himself, but now seems to have changed his mind… why? Before he’s able to ask, Yue Qingyuan gives his consent. Shen Yuan bows to his shizun and shibo, and returns to his room to tidy up before entering seclusion.

There, he finds Luo Binghe studying his old cultivation book that he gifted him on their way back from the city. Seeing him enter, his shidi puts the book down and Shen Yuan can see additional notes written in the margins, next to his own, giving the book a rather chaotic energy. Shen Yuan can’t help but smile at the sight. “Binghe, you have to study even harder from now on. Shixiong is leaving to enter seclusion.”

A few hours later. Shen Yuan enters the Ling Xi Caves and instantly marvels at the ethereal atmosphere. Feeling like a kid in a toy shop looking at all those strange stones and plants, it takes his whole willpower not to crouch down and observe both the ground and walls. His sight eventually stops on the countless gashes and traces of both steel and sword glares, making him swallow his excitement. There was even dried blood… Shen Yuan shakes his head with a sight and goes to sit on the stone bed laying in the middle of the clear pool. But as soon as his mind is calm enough to enter meditation, he hears a strange sound. Panting?

He opens his eyes and glares at the opened system screen who was about to announce a new mission, but awkwardly feigns a bug under Shen Yuan angry gaze and disappears without a word. A burst of night-rampant spiritual energy shakes the cave. Oh. Shen Yuan knows what this is about. Grumbling, he stands up and goes to investigate.

Following the chaotic qi, he soon arrives at another cavern. There, a figure in white faces away from the entrance. There’s blood everywhere and a longsword is stuck in a nearby rock. Sword glares fly in every direction, without order or pattern, and creating terrifying tremors as they hit the cavern floor and walls. Shen Yuan gulps and starts regretting his decision of investigating. He’s way too low level for this!! Shen Yuan nervously looks around, mulling over his options. This was one frighteningly bad qi deviation!

A piercing sound coming from the man’s sword startles him. Engraved incantations on the hilt, silver phoenix and flowing stream patterns… Oh no. But it’s already too late. The man’s head swings around, his bloodshot eyes falling on him like a predator.

The system seems to think that this exact moment is the most appropriate one to finally announce the mission: “Change the fate of the qi deviating Liu Qingge.” Shen Yuan cannot help but scream “Oh my god, SHUT UP!!” as his whole body follows his survival instinct and tries to flee. But the longsword finally decides to listen to his master and violently blocks his way by almost cutting his head off.

Trembling in fear, Shen Yuan turns to his shishu who is already charging him. The man pushes him to the ground with a growl. Terrified, Shen Yuan tries to push away Liu Qingge. “SHISHU! IT’S ME! SHEN YUAN!” His shishu freezes for a split second after hearing those words and Shen Yuan takes the opportunity to gather all the qi he can muster in this brief moment and fires a blow at the other man’s chest.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 8.5 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13

[kvntsugi]

invasion

Loud taps on the chalkboard as spurts of porous material cluttered up in the teachers hand when it filled his side of the podium. His large hand hitting on the green easel with a commanding tone filled the air.

"Alright, everyone. Class is dismissed. Those in student council - stay back. " His eyes gazed upon the classroom from one end to another before lips prying back open to speak out anymore. But it all came out as filler, the moment I was permitted to dip - I was already packing.

"I'm pissed off…" A nearby voice made my ears perk up to the sounds of her husky voice in front of my seat. Her dark locks and brunette highlights made her stick out like a sore thumb, my eyes darted up from the materials I was packing, and gazed at her with a confused expression.

"Yo, Oppa - my assignment for student council? Do mine as well." Fighting back the urge to bite down on my cheeks, giving out a stoic expression instead. Appalled at her request but not surprised, Suyun always seemed like the type to delay her assignments.

"I promised to go home with my boyfriend, and if I left without permission from the teacher he would end up yelling at me." She spoke while leaning back against the window, eyes looking down at her phone with fingers furiously typing away at the screen. My eyes naturally (male instinct, y'know…) went towards her legs. How voluptuously sculpted they were like a Greek goddess with her legs crossed one over the other. Just one chance -- I'm begging!!

"Hey." Her voice rang out again before I dawdled in my daydreams. Just picture-perfect thoughts of what could be done, if only I was a little better, just a little more handsome… "Do you really think I haven't noticed?" Her hand went towards my desk and mimicked the teacher and slammed it down - only loud only for me to hear and get slightly startled.

"Take off your pants." Her voice was more commanding than normal when I got put in a state of shock.

"Huh -- ?" Was all I could muster out, feeling the hairs on my forearm stick up and feeling a cool breeze in the air. Before realizing everyone in the classroom was gone. My savior the teacher was also nowhere in sight when I needed him most. Head darting from left to right to get a full view of the class, eyes leering everywhere from one corner to another before finding solace in nothing.

The sound of the chair scraping against the wooden floor creaked out loudly with her thick thighs now in full display, her phone and camera were aimed right at me like I was an animal on display at some zoo. Do I just give in? What could I possibly do? Was she going to scream out bloody murder or something even worse if I didn't comply?

I just whipped it out, slacks tugged and pulled to my ankles and slowly being whittled to the floor. My cock was out in full force. Gulping down a pool of saliva that formed in the back of my throat, slowly brought my head up towards the dark-haired girl to see a disturbance in her expression. Suyun, the no longer once confident girl had blush in her porcelain cheeks. Her fingers gripped the cellular device harder and her lips formed such a gaze as if she was either scared or amused.

"No way -- why are you hard? Why are you bigger than my boyfriend…? God, you're so disgusting." Her phone was swiftly brought away and her hands crossed on her chest, as if she were trying to claim dominance in the situation.

"I'm not hard…" My hand went towards my cock, the girl's stance changed and instinctively protecting the family jewels if my life were on the line. Not wanting to get injured myself but it just seemed like she just used that moment to yell at me more.

"Don't -- fucking lie to me!" She got closer, crouching down in position, and got incredibly close to me… and my cock. It must have been me, but it felt like her breathing became heavier. Not just mine. Feeling the air flow out her nostrils onto my own length had me grow, not by much but I felt something in my person.

She stepped back, standing back firmly and proudly with her hands tugged on the hem of her skirt. Lifting it above her hips and belly button to showcase her thong. "How about this…? Can you get hard for me?"

Sweat poured down my scalp and to nobody's amusement - yes. No words spoken out but my cock stood erect and upright. I felt her hands on my torso as she told me to get down on the classroom floor. My back laid on the cold surface, she was sitting on my stomach with her back facing my direction. Presumably, to not show off how sultry she was being, she was still this cocky, confident younger girl that ordered me around.

My cock grew more and more, getting so turned on just at the thought of fucking someone like Suyun. Where could it reach to, I wonder? Whenever watching those pornos - I felt average at best, below average most times due to the fact they all seemed so much… bigger?

"Don't get it wrong, you're just a dildo… Don't be so loud either. It's so disgusting." Her voice sounded like it was shaking, her faux-dominance was slowly wearing off as time passed by. I could see the tint blush on her cheeks when she looked back to speak to me in that demeaning tone.

Her hands plopped themselves onto me, using my body as support when she lifted herself up and angled her way in. "Say so when you're cumming, I'll kill you if you leave it inside." Second by second, her body slowly sank onto me. It was going inside. First the tip of my cock disappeared like magic, then the next few inches. A loud groan escaped my lips when I fought it to keep it in, but her insides were magical.

Her walls were getting split like two, the more she sank the more her voice started to come out as well. Suyun's insides were getting expanded. My cock should be at her womb now with how much she took in. A yelp of epic proportion filled the class with the girls head whipped back.

She stopped moving. Right then and there. Did she cum? Little spurts of murmurs and her walls sucking in on me like a leech. Her body gave out little twitches next. Hands drooped to the side before I spoke of her name.

"Sh-shut up!!' Her body slammed into mine with the sounds of what could only be described as animalistic came about. The girls hands went between my thighs and onto the floor. Her voice got louder with moans and the sloshing sound when she fucked me.

"Yes, yes yes!!" She kept it up, I was just a toy for her. I watched her asshole pucker with every movement she did, how her cheeks kept slamming into my hips and small groans came from myself.

Before I even knew it - before she even also knew it my body went upright. No longer was I sitting horizontally but my chest was practically back against hers. My hands had a mind of its own, reaching out towards her ample bosoms that always stood out. How her tight school uniform hugged them was so beautiful. Never before seen!

"H-hey…! Who said you could do that? Fuc--" Before she could finish my hands gripped onto her clothed bosoms like a handlebar. How delectable they felt as sooner or later I needed the real deal. No obstacles or distractions from what was to be of her perfect body. All the imaginationS I had in class finally coming to fruition. A sudden thrust upright came about, now I was slamming into her.

"I'll fucking -- " She was so weak. My hands went towards her hips and I went back towards teh original position as it became way more comfier to do what needed to be done. One after the other. Up and down. If I was a machine then I'll accept it, on my terms. The tip of my cock kept kissing the deepest depths of her insides. Her walls felt tight. Too tight with her lips gripping my cock and never wanting to leave. With more strength my hips found a way to thrust in more. A loud scream came from one of us, and it wasn't me. She must have just came. Did she even know she came?

Transparent white liquid squirted out onto the wooden floor. Her body collapsed in on itself with back lying down on my chest. Probably looking to get a breather the rough session she just had. There was no time to pause, time was of the essence before someone would have walked back in the room, but at this time of day… I wouldn't count on it.

I lifted the girl up. A squeal came from her mouth as she wasn't expected to be carried for a few seconds. Forcing her body and chest to go onto the closest desk as she now had to look up to me if she wanted to speak back. Whatever dominance she had on me was no more in this instance. Her dainty little hands held up her upper body, looking back to try to stop me as my cock was now aligned with her insides.

"O-oppa wait… I'm still cumm-…" Another drive going in. Another loud moan escaped hers. She held onto that desk for dear life with my feet planted firmly to give myself the best way to fuck her like no tomorrow. My husky voice mixed in with her whiny voice. My cock was twitching inside of her core and I felt myself leak as time passed on by. "Suyun - I'm gonna -" No care in the world for the consequences she spoke of earlier. I just had to fulfill my desires. Everything now coming to light.

"Don't screw with me -- Stop…! I told you --!" As much as I would have loved to spank her, my focus was entirely on thrusting my hard meat throughout her vaginal tunnel. Over and over, picking up speed and pumping my cock into her fine ass. Every second, it went further and harder. My thick balls slapped the undersides of her small figure. Her voice screamed with so much enthusiasm out to me. I grunted out and listened to her voice yelling out to him. She wanted this, he wasn't going to stop but eventually coming to a halt. I was already so close.

Thick white spurts of cum splashed all over her insides. Suyun remained still beneath me as I began to lazily move my hips. Her cheeks were glued to the desk and drool seeped out of her mouth. A cry of pure ecstasy continued to fill my ears until we were both all spent. Stream after stream of cum poured her pussy. My juices mixed with her own, creating a hot stream of liquid that made the movement only more pleasurable.

Her voice wasn't anything of despair or anguish. Quite the opposite. As I slowly pulled away, she laid there. Mummified. Both of our juices leaked out of her and dripped onto the floor. The smell of sex filled the classroom as she held herself up by standing on her toys. Tiny bits of noise escaped her lips as she had a crazy expression. Something I couldn't make out of. Something one could see in porn.

I came back to my reality. Realizing what I had done. Feeling utter shame and remorse. My hand raised up but I stopped myself for my own good - nothing positive would have come from this and I knew it. I reached for my slacks and pulled them up, escaping the classroom while buttoning myself to look like a student once more. Sweat pouring all over my face and leaving Suyun there.

[sagesariadnd]

Just Rambling About My D&D characters, Part 2: Melanthieae, Dryad Circle of Land Druid

Art by Lyssie-chan https://www.patreon.com/leafsways

Backstory - CW: Chronic illness, environmental destruction

Melanthieae spent the majority of her hundred or more years of life in her forest, next to a small human town. In those hundred years, however, the human settlement grew into a larger city, and industry began to bloom. The dryad saw the danger coming, but her warnings fell on deaf ears until it was too late. Her home was overhunted, deforested, polluted, and almost completely destroyed, forcing Melanthieae to flee.

But the forest wasn't the only thing harmed by the humans' carelessness; after escaping to safety, Melanthieae fell severely ill. She recovered, but was never the same; the toxins that destroyed her home now flowed through her veins. No other forest spirits would take her in, fearing they also contract her pollutants, and so she was forced to wander the world as a nomad, fighting back against injustices against nature so that no more forests die as needlessly and painfully as hers.

Assorted thoughts

Melanthieae is easily one of my favorite characters that I've ever created, and the crux of her entire character more or less a spur of the moment decision. The game she was created for was extremely casual, so there was no pressure to even have a full backstory. The game also encouraged to play races that fell outside of the standard humanoids (humans, dwarves, elves, etc.), so homebrew and expanded books were all over the place. So I went into character creation with nothing but the elevator pitch of "I wanna play a dryad!" But then while I was looking through druid spells, I noticed Poison Spray, and because I'm me, I decided I wanted an in-universe reason for taking it. So I thought of a poisoned dryad, then of a polluted dryad, and next thing I knew I had a whole backstory.

Over time, the details of her condition have altered slightly. Initially, I put it as the pollution from the forest getting destroyed infecting her permanently, but after a while I started to get attached to the idea of her conditioning worsening in more polluted environments. Part of the inspiration from the start was the toxic trees from Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, which were toxic because their environment was toxic. So, it felt natural to take even further inspiration - the trees were absorbing the toxins from the earth and water and filtering them, leaving them cleaner than they were, and so that's what Melanthieae is doing. I started treating it more like a chronic illness - there are good days and bad days, heavily affected by her environment, she's always in some level of pain even on the good days, there's no cure, and it was always there. She just never realized she had this condition until her home was destroyed and she was forced to venture out into the world more tainted by humans. I've also expanded the concept of pollution to not just mean man-made; evil energy and toxic oozes also qualify.

Despite her circumstances, Mela pretty much immediately got the nickname 'tree mom' in the game I played her in; she is incredibly gentle and nurturing to her party, and a soft-spoken, calming presence. Somewhere along the way her character voice ended up adopting the verbal tick of calling everyone 'dear.' Or 'darling' in the case of the cleric she ended up developing a romance with. It's cute. But she can also be pretty brutal when the need comes for it. I try to think of it like nature itself; it can be beautiful and comforting, but it can also call down the freaking thunder and wreck your shit.

One of the really fun house rules of that game, was every character had a Limit Break - basically, you were permitted to pool up to four points of inspiration instead of one, and there were additional rules that gave you points (such as getting a point if you go unconscious or are hit for half your HP). Once you had four, you could blow them all for a special effect that lasted 1d4+proficiency rounds. Melanthieae's Limit Break created a 30 foot cube of polluted forest that destroyed any structure it had to grow through, did small amounts of poison damage to hostile creatures, and best of all, allowed Mela to use her Tree Stride ability to move anywhere in that cube, with no attacks of opportunity from enemies. She could Tree Stride twice per turn (each time cost 15 feet of movement) so I would often use this to zoop over to an enemy, attack, and zoop back to safety. Apparently this was the gateway to my addiction to teleportation powers, since now I also abuse Shadow Step as a Way of Shadow monk in my current Friday game

We also ended up in an unspoken tradition of naming our Limit Breaks after songs. Apparently it's a Jojo's thing? Anyway, Melanthieae's Limit Break is named Resonance of the Earth, a famously awesome Yoko Kanno song from an anime I otherwise don't care for; Earth Maiden Arjuna. ...come to think of it, I think the 'you feel the pollutants in your environment' thing probably came from Arjuna too. Though in my defense, I hadn't watched the anime in a long time when I made Mela and only recently rewatched it. Anyway, listen to the track here, it kicks ass and I think embodies the spirit I want to invoke when I play Mela in combat.

I've made a few cameos in my mom's Tuesday game with Melanthieae, before I ended up joining her game long term, and I think she's my mom's favorite too. She sometimes found excuses to mention her or have me read Sendings in-character. I'd love another chance to play her, especially in a long-form game when I can put more focus on the pollution angle - her first game was more episodic with not much downtime roleplay, and in mom's game she was a guest, so I didn't have too much chance.

[elfyourmother]

FFXIVWrite 2022 - 1: Cross

“Believest thou this shade to be Nidhogg returned? Is it not merely a manifestation of his vengeance—the shadow cast by thy brood-brother’s rage? I would not command thee, but ponder well thy course lest it lead thee unto greater remorse…”

Midgardsormr’s words hung heavy in the air of Zenith; mayhap for the first moment Gisele could recall in these parleys, a flicker of doubt cast a shadow within great eyes of untold power. But a flicker, and it planted a seed of hope within her anew. If his sire could move even a wounded heart cast in stone, mayhap...

And so she gazed up at Hraesvelgr.

“Though the flame of my life’s span be but a flickering candle before the brilliant incandescence of thy immortal Sun, my lord, I have lost much. So much, my lord,” she said softly. “Grief is my milk tongue.”

Duncan. Niall. Riordan. Alistair. Leliana. Zevran. Loghain. Minfilia. A litany of beloved names, of beloved faces, cruelly stolen from her by the indifferent provenance of fate. The manner of it, the purpose of it, mattered not; whether it be by their deaths or her own, she was bereft in the main of so many she had come to hold so dear, all the same. Tears pooled within her violet eyes once more, all unbidden, when she thought upon them.

But the peculiar, bitter calculus of war was one with which Gisele Surana was intimately, brutally familiar, more than Ser Aymeric could ever comprehend. Twas the very equation by which she came to dwell upon another world entire: the death of one, to purchase salvation for the many. Twas the calculus of all Grey Wardens, who swear it before the Joining chalice:

In Death, Sacrifice. 

And Gisele fulfilled her vow gladly; what was one Orlesian elf from the stews of Denerim with magic in her blood, when measured against the scion of a beloved monarch, and the hero who freed Ferelden from the bitter yoke of Orlesian oppression at long last, no matter his deeds since? 

But it was a choice she made, by her own will, seizing her fate with all she was, in the profoundest measure of love. She could not make it for another, much less one she loved so well; not then, when Denerim burned, and not now, when the shadow of a fury most ancient was cast long over the Holy See and threatened to consume it. She could not permit such men she loved to die, even to see saved the land they held so dear; she could not lose Alistair or Loghain, and so she took up the burden herself, to perform a Warden’s final duty with the profoundest measure of love.

Would that she could do the same for the Azure Dragoon, a man who had become no less dear to her; that she could take the vengeful wyrm’s rage unto herself, that it claim her flesh and not his, that she might suffer in his place. But for all the eldritch blood which cursed him, it did not flow in her veins as that of the darkspawn once did. She could not suffer it in his place. But she would not sacrifice him to see this land saved, no matter that she came to love it so, for it embraced her when she bore naught but borrowed garb upon her back and a promise from her beloved Haurchefant. Of a surety, did Gisele love Ishgard with all her heart, foibles and all. 

She loved Estinien more. 

“Gisele…” Alphinaud murmured, reaching for her, but she lifted her tear-stained faced to the great wyrm, the patriarch of the First Brood, in defiance and conviction. 

“I love him, my lord—I love Estinien with all my heart, as much as I have ever loved another. And I cannot lose him to this vengeful shade,” Gisele cried. “I refuse to add his name to the litany of those I have so cherished and have had torn from mine arms, not so long as the light of hope be even a distant glimmer, not so long as he can as yet be saved. I cannot! I will not condemn him to die as I once did, consumed body and soul! I shall not—I cannot lose him!

Tears streamed down her bronze cheeks, streaking murky kohl and pigment by turns, but she was undaunted, and stood tall and defiant. Gisele inhaled deeply of the mountain air, crisp and thin, bidding the thunderous pounding of her heart to settle, though it did little to ease the palsy in her hands. 

“Of a surety does thy sire speak candidly, great Hraesvelgr, and I shall speak no less plainly. I am not Aymeric, who swore oaths to protect Ishgard at any cost; only bonds of affection and the profoundest gratitude doth bind me to the Holy See. Thus, do I plead the boon of thee that he cannot: pray, my lord, help us save our companion, the man we both love,” Gisele asked. 

Alphinaud’s gasp was audible, to her right; precocious though he was, brilliant and perceptive though he was, the lad was unseasoned in the ways of the heart, and it was made plain betimes. These long weeks into months they’d spent in Ishgard, and still he did not take the fullest measure of the bond between the Lord Commander and his Azure Dragoon, though twas plain as day. For all his guileful cunning, betimes the inexperience of youth rang truer. Gisele could not help the silent amusement which tickled her at it, even in so dire a circumstance. 

But twas uncommonly soft, when the great wyrm’s words echoed at last through the vaults of Gisele’s mind in response, his gaze gentle when finally it lowered upon her. 

“Thou wishest to rescue the dragoon from his fate along with all the rest? I do begin to see why Ysayle entrusted her hope unto thee. So alike you are,” Hraesvelgr said. 

“She remains in the care of the Hospitaliers, within the city,” Aymeric said. “Tis not merely my own people I seek to save; I shall not repay her aid, her sacrifice, with faithlessness.”

Again, a flicker of doubt, when the great Eyes drifted between Gisele and Aymeric. “Truly? Thy purpose is pure. But so, too is my brood-brother’s wrath, and tis that which lendeth him his all-surpassing might. Thou doth beg mine aid to save thy people, yet by thine own confession thou art a kinslayer, young knight. The city thou doth hope to save seems divided, and it shall not stand before the singular purpose of mine brood-brother’s fury, so divided, e’en should I lend mine aid. Would it not be spurned?”

Aymeric did not waver.

“I do not deny the wisdom in your words, Lord Hraesvelgr; my people are fractious indeed, and a house divided cannot hope to stand. But in this purpose, the defense of our city, have we ever been of one mind. It remains as such, despite the perfidy of our ancestors being difficult to accept by some,” Aymeric replied. He paused then, his steely blue eyes narrowing before he continued.  “Once, long ago, your people and mine made a covenant to protect this star. And though we have done naught to deserve it, I would restore the trust that was broken. Lend us your aid, I beg of you, and let us begin anew.”

“Thou wouldst seek to restore the covenant?”

“Aye,” Aymeric replied simply, with a graceful incline of his head. 

“Dost thou sit the throne of Ishgard?”

Gisele’s blood ran cold in her veins, her heart pounding in staccato once more, at the question posed by the great wyrm. Aymeric’s words returned to her then, unbidden; the words he spoke with such anguish and determination before they embarked upon this journey, retracing that long road through Dravania, once more to beg Hraesvelgr’s aid.

Whatever price the dragon asks of me, I shall pay it—such was my oath to defend the people of Ishgard. 

She turned her gaze to him; still he did not waver. Surely, he must have marked the greater implication of the dragon’s inquiry, but it did not show upon his person, when he made his response, guileful though he was.

“Nay. That throne has stood vacant nigh unto a thousand years, since the death of King Thordan and the abdication of his only heir. The stewardship of Ishgard was divided, then, between the nobility and the Ishgardian Orthodox Church; I rule as acting Archbishop of the latter, until such time a true successor is chosen,” Aymeric explained, even as Gisele fought back the rising tide of panic within. 

“Ysayle spoke oft of thy church—and its falsehoods. Yet thou doth bear its mantle, and seek to begin anew upon such crumbling foundations? Nay. The covenant between our people was made by an Elezen king, then rent asunder by one. So shall it only be restored by one. If thy heart be true and thy purpose pure, Aymeric de Borel, then ask of me as a King.”

Aymeric’s eyes grew wide with alarm, his mouth uncharacteristically agape, and Gisele raised a trembling hand to her own. He had not known, then, what Hraesvelgr would ask of him til it was made plain—for all his chary cunning. Of a surety, the olive color drained from his handsome mien, and his wide eyes filled with abject shock. Mayhap in believing him the consummate politician, Gisele underestimated the Lord Commander’s sense of humility. For surely that was the source of his surprise.

He swallowed hard, his chest rising with the depth of his slow inhalation. It was clear to Gisele then—as clear as the starry heavens above them—that Aymeric did not anticipate such a demand, because he did not deem himself worthy of it.

“Lord Hraesvelgr, with due respect, what you ask of me—tis a steep price to be paid, and with coin not mine own,” Aymeric said gravely. “I can no more compel my people to recognize such a claim than you can compel yours to refuse the siren call of Nidhogg’s dread song.”

“I doth heed the words of my Father; I know the spirit which doth claim the flesh of thy mate to be little but a shade born of rage eternal. Still, what you ask of me is equally grave. Shall I war with mine own brood-brother for aught less than a royal oath?”

Gisele’s heart sunk within her breast, and she felt the thinness of the mountain air most acutely as the breath was stolen from her lungs. For it seemed to her then, in that moment, that she was no longer stood amongst the soaring heights of ancient Dravania, but the palace in Denerim what seemed now a lifetime ago (and was).

Then, a land which teetered upon the precipice of utter annihilation by a wyrm rendered nigh unstoppable by unholy and preternatural corruption stood fractured against itself even in the face of such a dire threat. Then, a misguided ruler stood between those who would save it, and what must needs be done. Then, Gisele stood at the side of a man who did not deem himself worthy of the duty fate and necessity most dire would press upon them both—a man of humble stock who nonetheless held the power to save his people, if he but had the courage to seize it. 

A man she loved with all her heart, and knew would be forever lost to her if he did. 

Then, she let him go--gave him up in the name of duty, to save their land. The scholars of ancient Nym oft said that time flowed as a river, and history repeats. There upon the heights of Zenith, before the great wyrm, the echoes of the Landsmeet reached across that river to haunt Gisele, across the cosmos. Once more, a choice must needs be made. Once more, her heart bled, and she saw no other way.

She could not help the tears that flowed anew as she turned from Aymeric; she raised a trembling hand to her face, fearing he would see it. But once more she found herself grateful for Alphinaud, his calm demeanor and steady presence at her side.

“Pray, Ser Aymeric: none protested when you took up the Archbishop’s miter, did they?” he asked. Aymeric shook his head. 

“Nay; by the laws of succession was it done. Twas the bishops themselves who pressed it upon me, and the High Houses concurred. For the sake of continuity, to avoid a perilous vacuum of power in a time of great upheaval,” Aymeric answered. “But with due respect, Master Alphinaud, tis another matter entirely to restore a throne laid dormant for a millennium. Particularly in light of the truth that vacated it.”

“But the peril has only grown since then, and none would deny it. Not after Falcon’s Nest,” Alphinaud said. “Hraesvelgr spoke truthfully: your people are divided, the faith they once held in stalwart institutions shattered. They need somewhat to unite them, somewhat to shine a light to illuminate the path forward. A new way for a new era, yet one rooted firmly in the traditions of the past. Restoring the throne wouldn’t be the worst way to do it, I think.” 

Gisele could not gainsay Alphinaud’s words; the lad had a brilliant mind steeped in politics, and it showed at moments such as these.

Aymeric turned his gaze to Gisele, and she swallowed down the lump which rose within her throat as her heart sank yet deeper to mark a turmoil she had as yet never seen within those beautiful eyes of steel-blue. Nay; she had seen it once before—but once, the night he and Estinien kept Halone’s Vigil with her in the Congregation’s chapel, praying for Haurchefant to awaken after his injury.

Did the anguish that threatened to consume her choke his own heart as vines, as well? Gisele could not help but wonder, and believe it true, when he looked upon her this way.

“What say you, my lady? Forgive me, but I have come to value your counsel,” Aymeric said softly.

It took every onze of discipline she possessed not to run to him, to fall into his arms, to beg him not to do it, for none in Ishgard would countenance a foreign adventurer as the King’s consort, any more than Ferelden would countenance an Elvhen mage as queen.

However, twas not the heartsick woman who yearned for his embrace that answered, but the Antecedent.

“I say that those who believe themselves unworthy of power are those with whom it can be trusted most, for they alone understand the weight of it,” Gisele replied. She lifted her hand to clutch the amethyst pendant about her neck; so tight was her grip, she felt the stone digging sharply into her palm. The pain helped; her mind drew into focus, and she shut her eyes. “I say that I have known many kings, in many lands, and few raised from birth to sit thrones are as suited as you, my lord, who claim you do not come from good stock. You said yourself that no price was too high, to see your people saved—so I say pay it, ser knight, and damn the consequences. Tis a far simpler thing to beg forgiveness of men who yet live because of it, then ask permission of men who can not see the dire peril in refusal. And without Hraesvelgr’s aid, there shall be neither Pillars nor Foundation to protest the boldness of your presumption, for Nidhogg shall not rest till every stone of your city be cast down into the Sea of Clouds. You must know this better than I, Lord Commander.”

Aymeric lowered his gaze, and was silent for an interminably long moment. As he seemed lost within his own tumultuous thoughts, Gisele feared that she may have overstepped her bounds. But when he lifted his eyes once more to meet her own, they were shed of the turmoil they once held, replaced anew with the burning fires of conviction, and then she feared her knees might grow weak. 

“Once more, I find myself within your debt, dear lady. You remind me who I am, and I am grateful beyond measure,” Aymeric said, at last, sweeping into a bow of heartstopping grace. When he rose, he turned once more to Hraesvelgr.

“Hast thou made thy choice then, young knight?” the great wyrm asked. Aymeric stood tall before Hraesvelgr, the delicate point of his chin raised high; the very picture of regality and stalwart determination.

“Aye, Lord Hraesvelgr. If a King of Ishgard be required to see it saved, then so be it: I ask once more, as one who would take up the duty my people cast aside so long ago: pray lend us your aid in the coming battle with your brood-brother, that we might save all we hold dear. For you have my most solemn vow, upon the Sacred Hoplon of the Fury and all the heavenly host that should we live to see the morrow, no more shall the fires of war rage on between Ishgard and Dravania!”

“Very well, child of Man. I shall,” Hraesvelgr replied. 

Midgardsormr had been silent, content to observe and little else, until that moment; the diminutive wyrmling nodded his assent, to each of them. “I say to thee, it is done, and well. For now, I shalt return to my rest; Daughter of Hydaelyn, thou mayest call upon me, should such witness be required by the children of Men.”

Gisele nodded, and he departed, vanishing in a shimmering burst of aether. She felt the weight of Hraesvelgr’s gaze upon her then; it fell upon them each in turn, she, Aymeric, and Alphinaud.

“Thy conviction tis unwavering, it seems…but hast thou the strength of will to stand against so terrible a shadow, I wonder? Twould seem I must put thee and thy companions to the proof,” Hraesvelgr said. “I shall await thee in the ruins where Ratatoskr once dwelled. Heed well the words of my children, and hasten thee to the place of thy trial!”

With that, Hraesvelgr too departed, the sheer strength of his mighty wings sending a tremendous gust toward them as he took to the night sky.

So it was, amidst ancient ruins, that a new covenant was formed between man and dragon; so it was the Azure Throne came to be; so it was that Aymeric de Borel took up yet another burden for the sake of his people.

But this one would not be his alone to bear, any more than had Haurchefant’s been hers, or Estinien’s his; thus Gisele made her own vow silently, as she drifted to his side, gazing up into the starry skies, reaching for his hand. And Aymeric clasped it tightly within his grasp, in silent acceptance.

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&Reading: Saturday, December 17,  2022

december 17_december 4

THE GREAT MARTYR BARBARA OF HELIAPOLIS IN SYRIA (306)

The Holy Great Martyr Barbara lived and suffered during the reign of the emperor Maximian (305-311). Her father, the pagan Dioscorus, was a rich and illustrious man in the Syrian city of Heliopolis. After the death of his wife, he devoted himself to his only daughter.

Seeing Barbara’s extraordinary beauty, Dioscorus decided to hide her from the eyes of strangers. Therefore, he built a tower for Barbara, where only her pagan teachers were allowed to see her. From the tower there was a view of hills stretching into the distance. By day she was able to gaze upon the wooded hills, the swiftly flowing rivers, and the meadows covered with a mottled blanket of flowers; by night the harmonious and majestic vault of the heavens twinkled and provided a spectacle of inexpressible beauty. Soon the virgin began to ask herself questions about the First Cause and Creator of so harmonious and splendid a world.

Gradually, she became convinced that the souless idols were merely the work of human hands. Although her father and teachers offered them worship, she realized that the idols could not have made the surrounding world. The desire to know the true God so consumed her soul that Barbara decided to devote all her life to this goal, and to spend her life in virginity.

The fame of her beauty spread throughout the city, and many sought her hand in marriage. But despite the entreaties of her father, she refused all of them. Barbara warned her father that his persistence might end tragically and separate them forever. Dioscorus decided that the temperament of his daughter had been affected by her life of seclusion. He therefore permitted her to leave the tower and gave her full freedom in her choice of friends and acquaintances. Thus Barbara met young Christian maidens in the city, and they taught her about the Creator of the world, about the Trinity, and about the Divine Logos. Through the Providence of God, a priest arrived in Heliopolis from Alexandria disguised as a merchant. After instructing her in the mysteries of the Christian Faith, he baptized Barbara, then returned to his own country.

During this time a luxurious bathhouse was being built at the house of Dioscorus. By his orders the workers prepared to put two windows on the south side. But Barbara, taking advantage of her father’s absence, asked them to make a third window, thereby forming a Trinity of light. On one of the walls of the bath-house Barbara traced a cross with her finger. The cross was deeply etched into the marble, as if by an iron instrument. Later, her footprints were imprinted on the stone steps of the bathhouse. The water of the bathhouse had great healing power. Saint Simeon Metaphrastes (November 9) compared the bathhouse to the stream of Jordan and the Pool of Siloam, because by God’s power, many miracles took place there.

When Dioscorus returned and expressed dissatisfaction about the change in his building plans, his daughter told him about how she had come to know the Triune God, about the saving power of the Son of God, and about the futility of worshipping idols. Dioscorus went into a rage, grabbed a sword and was on the point of striking her with it. The holy virgin fled from her father, and he rushed after her in pursuit. His way became blocked by a hill, which opened up and concealed the saint in a crevice. On the other side of the crevice was an entrance leading upwards. Saint Barbara managed then to conceal herself in a cave on the opposite slope of the hill.

After a long and fruitless search for his daughter, Dioscorus saw two shepherds on the hill. One of them showed him the cave where the saint had hidden. Dioscorus beat his daughter terribly, and then placed her under guard and tried to wear her down with hunger. Finally he handed her over to the prefect of the city, named Martianus. They beat Saint Barbara fiercely: they struck her with rawhide, and rubbed her wounds with a hair cloth to increase her pain. By night Saint Barbara prayed fervently to her Heavenly Bridegroom, and the Savior Himself appeared and healed her wounds. Then they subjected the saint to new, and even more frightful torments.

In the crowd where the martyr was tortured was the virtuous Christian woman Juliana, an inhabitant of Heliopolis. Her heart was filled with sympathy for the voluntary martyrdom of the beautiful and illustrious maiden. Juliana also wanted to suffer for Christ. She began to denounce the torturers in a loud voice, and they seized her.

Both martyrs were tortured for a long time. Their bodies were raked and wounded with hooks, and then they were led naked through the city amidst derision and jeers. Through the prayers of Saint Barbara the Lord sent an angel who covered the nakedness of the holy martyrs with a splendid robe. Then the steadfast confessors of Christ, Saints Barbara and Juliana, were beheaded. Dioscorus himself executed Saint Barbara. The wrath of God was not slow to punish both torturers, Martianus and Dioscorus. They were killed after being struck by lightning.

In the sixth century the relics of the holy Great Martyr Barbara were transferred to Constantinople. Six hundred years later, they were transferred to Kiev (July 11) by Barbara, the daughter of the Byzantine Emperor Alexius Comnenos, wife of the Russian prince Michael Izyaslavich. They rest even now at Kiev’s Saint Vladimir cathedral, where an Akathist to the saint is served each Tuesday.

Many pious Orthodox Christians are in the habit of chanting the Troparion of Saint Barbara each day, recalling the Savior’s promise to her that those who remembered her and her sufferings would be preserved from a sudden, unexpected death, and would not depart this life without benefit of the Holy Mysteries of Christ.

Troparion — Tone 8 Let us honor Saint Barbara, for she broke the snares of the Enemy, and like a bird, escaped from them by the help and weapon of the most Honorable Cross.

THE MONK JOHN DAMASCENE (760)

Saint John of Damascus was born about the year 680 at Damascus, Syria into a Christian family. His father, Sergius Mansur, was a treasurer at the court of the Caliph. John had also a foster brother, the orphaned child Cosmas (October 14), whom Sergius had taken into his own home. When the children were growing up, Sergius saw that they received a good education. At the Damascus slave market he ransomed the learned monk Cosmas of Calabria from captivity and entrusted to him the teaching of his children. The boys displayed uncommon ability and readily mastered their courses of the secular and spiritual sciences. After the death of his father, John occupied ministerial posts at court and became the city prefect.

In Constantinople at that time, the heresy of Iconoclasm had arisen and quickly spread, supported by the emperor Leo III the Isaurian (717-741). Rising up in defense of the Orthodox veneration of icons [Iconodoulia], Saint John wrote three treatises entitled, “Against Those who Revile the Holy Icons.” The wise and God-inspired writings of Saint John enraged the emperor. But since the author was not a Byzantine subject, the emperor was unable to lock him up in prison, or to execute him. The emperor then resorted to slander. A forged letter to the emperor was produced, supposedly from John, in which the Damascus official was supposed to have offered his help to Leo in conquering the Syrian capital.

This letter and another hypocritically flattering note were sent to the Saracen Caliph by Leo the Isaurian. The Caliph immediately ordered that Saint John be removed from his post, that his right hand be cut off, and that he be led through the city in chains.

That same evening, they returned the severed hand to Saint John. The saint pressed it to his wrist and prayed to the Most Holy Theotokos to heal him so that he could defend the Orthodox Faith and write once again in praise of the Most Pure Virgin and Her Son. After a time, he fell asleep before the icon of the Mother of God. He heard Her voice telling him that he had been healed, and commanding him to toil unceasingly with his restored hand. Upon awakening, he found that his hand had been attached to his arm once more. Only a small red mark around his wrist remained as a sign of the miracle.

Later, in thanksgiving for being healed, Saint John had a silver model of his hand attached to the icon, which became known as “Of the Three Hands.” Some unlearned painters have given the Mother of God three hands instead of depicting the silver model of Saint John’s hand. The Icon “Of the Three Hands” is commemorated on June 28 and July 12.

When he learned of the miracle, which demonstrated John’s innocence, the Caliph asked his forgiveness and wanted to restore him to his former office, but the saint refused. He gave away his riches to the poor, and went to Jerusalem with his stepbrother and fellow-student, Cosmas. There he entered the monastery of Saint Savva the Sanctified as a simple novice.

It was not easy for him to find a spiritual guide, because all the monks were daunted by his great learning and by his former rank. Only one very experienced Elder, who had the skill to foster the spirit of obedience and humility in a student, would consent to do this. The Elder forbade John to do anything at all according to his own will. He also instructed him to offer to God all his labors and supplications as a perfect sacrifice, and to shed tears which would wash away the sins of his former life.

Once, he sent the novice to Damascus to sell baskets made at the monastery, and commanded him to sell them at a certain inflated price, far above their actual value. He undertook the long journey under the searing sun, dressed in rags. No one in the city recognized the former official of Damascus, for his appearance had been changed by prolonged fasting and ascetic labors. However, Saint John was recognized by his former house steward, who bought all the baskets at the asking price, showing compassion on him for his apparent poverty.

One of the monks happened to die, and his brother begged Saint John to compose something consoling for the burial service. Saint John refused for a long time, but out of pity he yielded to the petition of the grief-stricken monk, and wrote his renowned funeral troparia (“What earthly delight,” “All human vanity,” and others). For this disobedience the Elder banished him from his cell. John fell at his feet and asked to be forgiven, but the Elder remained unyielding. All the monks began to plead for him to allow John to return, but he refused. Then one of the monks asked the Elder to impose a penance on John, and to forgive him if he fulfilled it. The Elder said, “If John wishes to be forgiven, let him wash out all the chamber pots in the lavra, and clean the monastery latrines with his bare hands.”

John rejoiced and eagerly ran to accomplish his shameful task. After a certain while, the Elder was commanded in a vision by the All-Pure and Most Holy Theotokos to allow Saint John to write again. When the Patriarch of Jerusalem heard of Saint John, he ordained him priest and made him a preacher at his cathedral. But Saint John soon returned to the Lavra of Saint Savva, where he spent the rest of his life writing spiritual books and church hymns. He left the monastery only to denounce the iconoclasts at the Constantinople Council of 754. They subjected him to imprisonment and torture, but he endured everything, and through the mercy of God he remained alive. He died in about the year 780, more than 100 years old.

Saint John of Damascus was a theologian and a zealous defender of Orthodoxy. His most important book is the Fount of Knowledge. The third section of this work, “On the Orthodox Faith,” is a summary of Orthodox doctrine and a refutation of heresy. Since he was known as a hymnographer, we pray to Saint John for help in the study of church singing.

MARK 5:24-34

24 So Jesus went with him, and a great multitude followed Him and thronged Him. 25 Now a certain woman had a flow of blood for twelve years, 26 and had suffered many things from many physicians. She had spent all that she had and was no better, but rather grew worse. 27 When she heard about Jesus, she came behind Him in the crowd and touched His garment. 28 For she said, "If only I may touch His clothes, I shall be made well." 29 Immediately the fountain of her blood was dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of the affliction. 30 And Jesus, immediately knowing in Himself that power had gone out of Him, turned around in the crowd and said, "Who touched My clothes?" 31 But His disciples said to Him, "You see the multitude thronging You, and You say, 'Who touched Me?' " 32 And He looked around to see her who had done this thing. 33 But the woman, fearing and trembling, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell down before Him and told Him the whole truth. 34 And He said to her, "Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace, and be healed of your affliction."

GALATIANS 3:23-29 

23 But before faith came, we were kept under guard by the law, kept for the faith which would afterward be revealed. 24 Therefore the law was our tutor to bring us to Christ, that we might be justified by faith. 25 But after faith has come, we are no longer under a tutor. 26 For you are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus. 27 For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. 28 There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus. 29 And if you are Christ's, then you are Abraham's seed, and heirs according to the promise.

Commentary of the Church Fathers

St John Chrysostom AD 407: See what an insatiable soul! For having said, We are all made children of God through Faith, he does not stop there, but tries to find something more exact, which may serve to convey a still closer oneness with Christ. Having said, you have put on Christ, even this does not suffice Him, but by way of penetrating more deeply into this union, he comments on it thus: You are all One in Christ Jesus, that is, you have all one form and one mould, even Christ's. What can be more awful than these words! He that was a Greek, or Jew, or bond-man yesterday, carries about with him the form, not of an Angel or Archangel, but of the Lord of all, yea displays in his own person the Christ.

St Augustine of Hippo AD 430: difference of race or condition or sex is indeed taken away by the unity of faith, but it remains embedded in our mortal interactions, and in the journey of this life the apostles themselves teach that it is to be respected…. For we observe in the unity of faith that there are no such distinctions. Yet within the orders of this life they persist. So we walk this path in a way that the name and doctrine of God will not be blasphemed. It is not out of fear or anger that we wish to avoid offense to others but also on account of conscience, so that we may do these things not in mere profession, as if for the eyes of men, but with a pure love toward God.

[tonkifruit]

Definition riffle

Semi-automatic-only rifles with fixed magazines like the SKS are not assault rifles they do not have detachable box magazines and are not capable of automatic fire.ĭistinction from assault weapons.Semi-automatic-only rifles like the Colt AR-15 are not assault rifles they do not have select-fire capabilities.Select-fire rifles such as the Fedorov Avtomat, FN FAL, M14, and H&K G3 main battle rifles are not assault rifles they fire full-powered rifle cartridges.Select-fire M2 Carbines are not assault rifles their effective range is only 180 metres (200 yd).Rifles that meet most of these criteria, but not all, are not assault rifles according to the U.S. It must have an effective range of at least 300 metres (330 yards).Its ammunition must be supplied from a detachable box magazine.It must have an intermediate-power cartridge: more power than a pistol but less than a standard rifle or battle rifle, examples of intermediate cartridges are the 7.92×33mm Kurz, the 7.62×39mm and 5.56×45mm NATO.Army defines assault rifles as "short, compact, selective-fire weapons that fire a cartridge intermediate in power between submachine gun and rifle cartridges." In this strict definition, a firearm must have at least the following characteristics to be considered an assault rifle: Today, the term assault rifle is used to define firearms sharing the same basic characteristics as the StG 44. The StG 44 is generally considered the first selective fire military rifle to popularize the assault rifle concept. Furthermore, Hitler was initially opposed to the idea of a new infantry rifle, as Germany lacked the industrial capacity to replace the 12,000,000 Karabiner 98k rifles already in service, only changing his mind once he saw it first-hand. It has been suggested, however, that the Heereswaffenamt was responsible for the name Sturmgewehr, and Hitler had no input besides signing the production order. Allied propaganda suggested that the name was chosen for propaganda purposes, but the main purpose was to differentiate the Sturmgewehr from German submachine guns such as the MP 40. The term assault rifle is generally attributed to Adolf Hitler, who used the German word Sturmgewehr (which translates to "assault rifle") as the new name for the MP 43 ( Maschinenpistole), subsequently known as the Sturmgewehr 44. The two most successful modern assault rifles are the AK-47 and the M16 designs and their derivatives. By the end of the 20th century, assault rifles had become the standard weapon in most of the world's armies, replacing full-powered rifles and sub-machine guns in most roles. While immediately after World War II, NATO countries were equipped with battle rifles, the development of the M16 rifle during the Vietnam War prompted the adoption of assault rifles by the rest of NATO. The first assault rifle to see major usage was the German StG 44, a development of the earlier Mkb 42. Assault rifles were first put into mass production and accepted into widespread service during World War II. It fires the 5.56×45mm NATO cartridge, and is the most produced assault rifle in its caliber.Īn assault rifle is a selective fire rifle that uses an intermediate cartridge and a detachable magazine. Riffles are typically found in the middle course of rivers, and are theoretically found at intervals around 6 times the width of the river, although local conditions cause this to vary.The M16 was first introduced into service in 1964 with the United States Armed Forces. Nevertheless, the coarse-grained bedding of riffles suggests erosion of smaller particles, according to the Hjulström curve. Although simple fluid flow suggests slower flow in deeper water and faster flow over riffles, the true flow pattern pool and riffle waters is often helicoidal flow or turbulent, which permits more rapid erosion of the wetted perimeter. Riffles are instrumental in the formation of meanders, with deeper pools forming alternately. Riffles are usually caused by an increase in a stream bed's slope or an obstruction in the water. As a result of the lowered velocity and heightened turbulence, small ripples are frequently found. Riffle A riffle is a short, relatively shallow and coarse-bedded length of stream over which the stream flows at slower velocity but a higher turbulence than it normally does in comparison to a pool.

[ebookporn]

Op-Ed: How an antitrust trial could reshape the books we read — and who writes them

by Douglas Preston

The outcome of an antitrust trial currently underway in Washington could reshape the kind of books Americans read — and who writes them.

Last November, the Department of Justice sued to stop the proposed merger of two of the country’s largest publishers, Penguin Random House and Simon & Schuster. At the time, U.S. Atty. Gen. Merrick Garland said: “If the world’s largest book publisher is permitted to acquire one of its biggest rivals, it will have unprecedented control over this important industry.” The consolidated company, according to Garland, would control half the market for top-selling books.

The Authors Guild, America’s oldest and largest association of published writers, opposes this merger. As we argued to the Justice Department in January 2021 — a position it adopted in its complaint — less competition in the industry, particularly allowing one publishing house to dominate all others, will be bad for authors and readers in general, and it could harm the free flow of ideas in our democracy.

Agents seeking a publisher for a book by one of their authors, especially those with commercial or other potential, often offer the manuscript up for auction to publishing houses, which bid against each other to acquire the right to publish it. When I first entered the publishing world 30 years ago, an auction might attract bidding from eight or nine major publishers.

Over the years, consolidation and mergers have reduced the pool of dominant bidders to five — known to insiders as “the Big Five.” The merger of Penguin Random House and Simon & Schuster would not only reduce that to four, it would create a company larger than the other three publishers in the Big Five combined. This could lead to further mergers, as publishing houses consolidate in reaction to their growing competitors in a kind of self-reinforcing cycle.

READ MORE

[innovativemethods]

5 Ways Oracle HCM Revolutionizes Workforce Management

In the ever-evolving business environment, effective workforce management becomes essential to business success. Oracle HCM Cloud Technology is a lighthouse that points businesses in the direction of cutting-edge approaches to effective people management. We go into great detail about the seven main advantages of reshaping strategic human resources for greater impact—Oracle HCM—in this blog post. Oracle's integrated solutions continuously modernize antiquated processes, from flexible staffing and recruitment to engaged performance and tailored learning. These solutions give management the critical analytical tools they need to drive organizational success in the face of changing circumstances.

1. Boost Workforce Efficiency with Oracle HCM

Oracle HCM is a driving force behind the transformation of traditional workforce management strategies. Through talent acquisition and development tools, its advanced functionalities enable organizations to seamlessly align their entire workforce strategies with overarching business objectives. This encourages flexibility and builds a workforce that can respond quickly to changing market conditions.

The strategic approach of Oracle HCM guarantees effective workforce governance over the course of the employee lifecycle. The platform reduces manual labor and error risk by streamlining processes from initial hiring to eventual retirement. By utilizing their vast talent acquisition capabilities, organizations are able to efficiently locate and entice highly skilled individuals, thereby enabling prompt hiring to guarantee workforce congruence with strategic objectives.

2. Elevate Employee Experience with Oracle HCM

Oracle HCM places a high priority on empowering employee journeys in the contemporary workplace. Its full suite of cutting-edge tools, including innovative Oracle HCM Cloud mobile features, allows for customized self-service via dashboards optimized for mobile devices, improving productivity and job satisfaction. Oracle HCM is essential to the creation of environments that optimize potential because it cultivates a work culture where vibrant employees naturally come together.

The dedication to improving every person's experience is demonstrated by Oracle HCM's self-service features. Personalized dashboards give users control over both mundane and revolutionary tasks, such as performance management and profile updates. Flexibility is further improved by mobile access, which permits interactions to flow naturally across different life contexts. Oracle HCM's emphasis on individual empowerment highlights the company's central tenet, which is that personal development opportunities must be maximized in order to maximize organizational growth opportunities.

3. Strategic Talent Management with Oracle Fusion HCM

One of the main advantages of Oracle HCM Cloud is the strategic approach to talent management that Oracle Fusion HCM, a crucial part of Oracle HCM, provides. It incorporates powerful tools for learning management, succession planning, and performance management to guarantee that businesses consistently develop a diverse pool of qualified workers to support ongoing projects and long-term goals. Through deliberate talent cultivation across the entire employee lifecycle, organizations can sustain a continuous flow of driven staff, promoting stability and expansion even in the face of shifting leadership or shifts in the market.

Oracle HCM's strategic talent management capabilities are extensive and cover many important facets of human resources. Performance reviews provide organizations the ability to define, track, and assess workers' contributions in relation to overall goals. Tools for succession planning make sure companies have backup plans for when important employees leave.

4. Ensure Robust Compliance & Security Measures with Oracle HCM

Oracle Cloud HCM places a high priority on protecting sensitive employee data and adhering to HR regulations. Organizations can be assured of employee confidentiality and data integrity thanks to the platform's strict compliance and security measures. Sustaining compliance raises credibility and dependability in general.

Respecting rules is essential to human resource management. Oracle HCM provides a comprehensive solution that complies with both local and international employment regulations, allowing businesses to lawfully manage their workforce. Strict information security protocols, like encryption and access controls, further guard private HR data against breaches and illegal access. Additionally, the system effectively automates repetitive tasks to save time while streamlining generally complex HR processes. However, adjustments may be required to account for regional quirks due to the varied demands of global corporations.

5. Streamline Onboarding Processes with Oracle HCM

Oracle HCM is aware of the importance of effective onboarding for the employee experience. The platform streamlines new hire workflows and helps them quickly gain insight into their roles and integrate into the company culture. Automation streamlines onboarding procedures by making administrative tasks easier. A swift yet thorough onboarding process helps new hires get up to speed and start contributing right away with the help of mentors.

An employee's onboarding experience establishes their tenure. By automating repetitive tasks like document submission and module completion, Oracle HCM improves this process. In addition to ensuring that new hires feel appreciated from the start and are motivated to focus on value-added work, this lessens the workload for HR teams. At the beginning of their careers, talent is empowered by the seamless completion of administrative requirements.

Final Words

In conclusion, strategic human resources management is about to undergo a radical change thanks to Oracle Cloud Human Capital Management. These seven main advantages highlight how it helps to simplify conventional HR procedures and set businesses up for long-term success. Good budgeting for Oracle HCM implementation alongside the utilization of Innovative Methods Consulting's expertise as an Oracle implementation service provider, businesses can achieve previously unattainable levels of excellence in their HR strategies. Modern HR technology working in concert with customized implementation advice drives businesses toward long-term success and expansion in a cutthroat market. Get in touch with us right now to start your journey toward strategic transformation and HR innovation with Oracle Cloud HCM!

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Embroidered Elegance: The Emalina Fashion Guide to Embroidered Kaftans

The kaftan, a flowing garment with a rich history, has transcended cultures and trends to remain a timeless symbol of elegance and comfort. At Emalina Fashion, we understand the allure of the kaftan, and we're particularly enamored with its embroidered variation. Embroidered kaftans elevate the classic design to a whole new level, adding a touch of luxury, personality, and cultural flair to your wardrobe.

A Journey Through Embroidery:

Embroidery is an art form with a long and illustrious past. From the delicate hand-stitching of ancient civilizations to the modern marvels of machine embroidery, this technique has been used to embellish garments, tell stories, and showcase artistic prowess.

Embroidered kaftans come in a dazzling array of styles, each reflecting different cultural traditions and design sensibilities. Here's a glimpse into some popular embroidery techniques you might encounter:

Zardozi: This intricate Indian embroidery uses metallic threads like gold and silver to create stunning, richly textured patterns.

Chikankari: This delicate embroidery style from Lucknow, India, features white threads on sheer fabrics, creating a beautiful and airy look.

Shisha Work: This dazzling technique incorporates tiny mirrors into the embroidery, creating a shimmering effect that catches the light.

Suzani: This colorful embroidery from Uzbekistan features bold geometric patterns and vibrant threads, often depicting flowers and other natural motifs.

The Emalina Fashion Embroidered Kaftan Collection:

At Emalina Fashion, we curate a collection of embroidered kaftans that celebrates diversity and craftsmanship. Whether you seek a bold and colorful statement piece or a more subtle and sophisticated design, we have something for you. Here are just a few ways you can incorporate an embroidered kaftan into your wardrobe:

Beach Bliss:  A lightweight embroidered kaftan in breezy cotton or linen is the perfect cover-up for a day at the beach. The loose silhouette keeps you cool and comfortable, while the embroidery adds a touch of effortless style.

Poolside Chic: Make a splash by the pool in a luxuriously embroidered kaftan. Choose a design with bold colors and intricate patterns for a truly head-turning look.

Summer Soirees:  Elevate your summer evening look with a luxuriously embroidered kaftan. Opt for a silk or satin design in a jewel tone and pair it with statement earrings and heels for a glamorous touch.

Effortless Elegance: The embroidered kaftan's adaptability is what makes it so beautiful.

. Throw on a simple embroidered kaftan over your swimsuit for a chic lunch date, or dress it up with a belt and sandals for a night out.

Caring for Your Embroidered Kaftan:

Embroidered kaftans are works of art, and proper care will ensure they stay beautiful for years to come. Here are a few tips:

Read the care label: Always follow the garment's specific care instructions.

Hand-wash or delicate cycle: For delicate embroidery, hand-washing is always the safest option. If machine washing is permitted, use a gentle cycle and a mesh laundry bag.

Air dry: Avoid the heat of the dryer, which can damage the embroidery. Allow your kaftan to air dry flat or on a hanger.

Proper storage: Keep your kaftan out of direct sunlight and in a cool, dry environment.

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Embroidered kaftans from Emalina Fashion are more than just garments; they're conversation starters and wearable pieces of art. With their rich cultural heritage, timeless elegance, and endless styling possibilities, embroidered kaftans are a must-have for any fashion-forward wardrobe. So, browse our collection today and discover the magic of the embroidered kaftan!

Emalina Fashion: Where Style Meets Sustainability

At Emalina Fashion, we are committed to offering our customers beautiful and ethically sourced clothing. We work with artisans who use traditional embroidery techniques and high-quality materials.

Looking for more inspiration?

Follow us on social media for styling tips, behind-the-scenes glimpses into our design process, and exclusive promotions on our latest embroidered kaftan collection. Let Emalina Fashion be your guide to a world of effortless style and timeless elegance.