#their supports because like NO ONE compares to bishop.

[dahkis]

so beast tamer is getting replaced (lynched) by the new class 'lynn'

rip beast tamer 2023. couldn't make it to the end of the year LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[oneshotnewbie]

Carina DeLuca und Maya Bishop taking care after Reader has an operation and gets home. Readers emotions are wild because she is in so much pain

ᕚ---ᕘ

Hospital hallways have never been known for their warmth, but on this rainy afternoon the gray walls and sterile floor seemed to intensify the cold. You sat on the edge of the bed in a jogging suit that was way too big for you and didn't fit, trying to sit up.

One of the nurses on the ward had changed your wound bandage for the last time and the doctor had just handed over the discharge papers, but the pain that was still throbbing and burning in your body made every movement a challenge for you.

There was a gentle knock and your head snapped to the door as it opened and two familiar faces entered the room, their faces brightening at the sight of you. "Hey, sleepyhead. Ready to break free from this joint? How are you feeling?" the blonde asked happily, smiling as she made her way over to you. A hand cupped the side of your neck before her lips pressed slowly and gently against yours, her longing for you insanely strong.

“Better, I guess,” you murmured as you struggled to your feet, standing on unsteady legs. You tried to smile, but you couldn't hide the fact that the pain was deeper than you expected. "I'm so ready to get out of here."

Now Carina had finally approached you, with a bouquet of fresh flowers in her hand. She knew that you liked roses best and just the smell of them made you feel better and she was happy that you were finally feeling better. Nevertheless, concern shone through the loving smile and lively brown eyes as she handed you the flowers and also placed a big kiss on your cheek. "Ciao amore mio,"

"Thank you baby." You replied, feeling a breath of freshness flow through the bouquet. It was as if a bit of normality had returned to this clinical room where you had been lying for a week. But now it was time to finally get out of here and get home, where you could heal yourself properly with the help of your two wives.

Together the two of you slowly walked with you down the long hallway to the elevators. You limped slightly, supported by Maya's strong arm, while Carina led the way, clearing the path. The world outside seemed contrasting and loud compared to the quiet, sterile environment of the hospital room.

"You have to tell me if it gets too much, my love. We can always use a wheelchair," the blonde offered as you exited the hospital and you shook your head with a hint of determination, despite the pain was still deep. "It'll be fine, don't worry."

The rain enveloped you and Carina opened an umbrella to protect you from the falling drops while Maya still gently walked you to the car door. Quickly opening it, she carefully lowered you onto the back seat of the car. A small cry of pain escaped your lips.

"Where does it hurt the most, Bella?" The brunette asked as she started the engine and looked in the rearview mirror to catch your gaze. "Everywhere. But Bailey and Webber have made it clear to me that it will probably be like this for another two days before things go uphill." You replied, trying to smile, but it was hard to hide the pain.

Meanwhile, Maya sat in the backseat with you before buckling up her seatbelt. She squeezed your hand gently, running her thumb over your skin. "We're here for you, okay? You'll feel better at home."

You just nodded tiredly and closed your eyes. The way home was characterized by quiet moments and the gentle sound of rain on the car roof. When you finally reached the front door, Carina carefully helped you out of the car and up to the first floor, while Maya ran forward and opened the apartment door.

In the warm light of the hallway, the home immediately felt inviting and the blonde carefully placed the bouquet on the dresser while the brunette led you to the bedroom and gently lowered you onto it. "Rest, y/n. We'll take care of the rest," she spoke, covering you with a blanket before giving you a kiss on the forehead and quietly leaving the room.

Your eyes closed from tiredness and the feeling of the loving atmosphere of your home, which was definitely beneficial to your continued recovery, and you fell into a deep sleep that consumed you for quite a while.

Only when the sun's rays gently filtered through the closed curtains and bathed the bedroom in a mild light did you wake up and, still weak from the previous operation, looked at the ajar door. "Maya, Car?" you called out to the two, hoping they were home.

The two immediately entered the room with worried looks and a tray full of breakfast. The Italian carefully sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled encouragingly at you. "Buongiorno, tesoro. How did you sleep?" You looked at both of them confused, but returned the smile weakly. "Good morning? Did I really only sleep for a few minutes?"

"No, silly. You slept through the whole of yesterday and the night," Maya said with a soft giggle as she pushed herself off the doorframe and joined you on the bed. "How are you feeling today?"

"Not so bad, I guess. But the pain is still there." You answered, still slightly groggy, and the blonde handed you a cup of water and a bowl of freshly peeled fruit from the tablet. "Here, maybe this will help a little. Afterwards you'll get your painkillers."

You nodded gratefully and took a small sip of water. Meanwhile, Carina carefully placed a cold hand on your forehead to see if you had developed a fever overnight, but luckily there was no trace of it. "Since there were a few complications with your surgery, it will take some time for you to fully recover."

"I know, but the side effects suck hard," you spoke, thinking about them that had become more noticeable lately. You struggled with pain, nausea, and general exhaustion. Even the effort of standing up seemed overwhelming and Maya helped you up. "How does the pain feel?" She asked carefully, moving closer to you to place a hand on your thigh.

 You sighed, trying to find the right words for the aching and warm pain you felt, circling the sides of the bandages with your index fingers. "It's like my body is no longer mine. Everything hurts and I feel so weak."

They both nodded understandingly and lay down next to you on each other's sides. They cuddled and snuggled up to you, nothing stopping them - not even the household. You lay in bed together all day, only getting up when absolutely necessary and otherwise just watching trash TV.

The next few days continued with a gentle rhythm of care and support. Carina and Maya took turns making sure you weren't alone. They helped you walk, gave you medicine, and brought you meals to your bed or couch. Together they created an atmosphere of love and care that seemed to dispel the dark clouds of pain.

In the quiet moments, Maya would read you one of your new and unread psychological thrillers while Carina massaged your hands or shoulders. The sensitive and reassuring phrases of care penetrated your consciousness, creating a small oasis of distraction in the midst of the storm of physical discomfort.

One evening, as the sun slowly disappeared behind the horizon, you and Maya sat on the balcony while Carina prepared a light meal for you. The conversations were quiet, but the love and support spoke louder than the words they could ever offer you.

"I know, it's hard," the brunette said as she walked through the balcony doors and handed you a plate. "But you're doing great. Every day brings you one step closer to recovery."

You smiled tiredly, but with more energy than you had a few days ago. The pain had mostly subsided and your manner was slowly returning. "I'm glad to have you by my side. It gives me strength to carry on."

Together, strengthened by love and devotion, you went through the ups and downs of your health with them. In these moments of community, you found the strength to walk the path to complete healing together.

[jo-harrington]

Magnificum et Horribillis (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Pairings/Relationships: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Philosophical Themes, Allusion to Chronic Pain and Depression, Vague Smut, Life and Death as Abstract Themes, Suicidal Ideation, Big Feelings Ahead BEWARE

Note: This started as a poem for @somnambulic-thing but it evolved into fic. Because I kept writing more and of course it did. Will also give a little shout to @deathbecomesthem because they’re always here for my little sad girl writing.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

There are more bad days than good.

You are more bad than good.

A nidus of wicked thoughts and words and feelings that wrack through you, body and soul.

Pain.

Some ancient angel or large primordial bird put you together one brittle, misshapen twig at a time until, from the abstract, came you. And since then, you were a bitter pill that seemed to poison and infect those around you. It could have been the end for you time and again but the void spat you out, unable to stomach you.

Even Satan rejected you.

Or so it seemed.

The thoughts always weighed heavily on your mind, inescapable. But that's why you were where you were, staring somewhat unseeingly at the person across from you.

A stranger in a waiting room, fiddling with new patient paperwork.

“Edward?” The receptionist called.

“Eddie,” he insisted as he turned toward the little window. “It’s Eddie.”

"I forgot to give you Dr. Bishop's questionnaire."

He’d shot you a tight-lipped smile as he’d stood and you let it bounce off of you, not out of disinterest but from too-slow reflexes. Everything about you was too slow, layered in sludge, and corrupt. You blinked and watched him then, from your perch, waiting for your own name to be called. Watched the heavy way he carried himself. Legs slightly weak, whether his muscles couldn’t support his body or his troubles...you couldn’t be sure.

Possibly both.

Beautiful and broken.

You recognized that in him.

Beautiful because he was broken.

Just like you.

Dr. Crane opened the door and called your name now. You offered Eddie a similar smile as you walked past him.

Offer him a silent kindness.

You didn't know it yet, but this was the reason you were turned away from the gates of hell.

A second chance. For both of you.

It would be alright.

---

You held your hands out over the sticky table beside his. Comparing them. Size, shape, rings, and shakiness.

Yours worse because of your nerves, his because of his pills. Somehow he still can keep his still enough for his job at the sign shop. And you when you’re typing reports or writing up notes during meetings.

“It’s because they have a purpose,” he said sagely. “When we’re doing things they have a purpose so they know they can’t shake.”

“When did you get to be so smart?” You tease.

“Shut up.”

The waitress comes with your lunches and your hands try to retreat to your side of the booth but Eddie grabs one of them and runs his thumb over your knuckles as the plates get dropped and drinks refilled.

She comes with one more dish and begins the pomp and circumstance. You shoot a glare across the table at him; he always had to have some kind of spectacle about him, even now that he was, as he proclaimed, older and “mellowed out.”

You could only imagine how he was as a kid or in high school.

“I ordered flaming saganaki while you were in the bathroom,” he explained.

“I hate you.”

“You know you’ll have some.”

And you did.

These were special times. Cherished times between the two of you, where the dread of the world couldn’t reach you through the buffer of forks clacking on plates and ambient noise of people talking around you at other tables.

Late nights with Eddie at the Greek diner; holier than church.

“You know,” he said tentatively between mouthfuls of food. “You don’t have to have a purpose.”

“No?”

“I thought so for a while after…” he trailed off and you shifted in your seat.

“You don’t need to talk about it.” You told him. “We agreed that we were starting fresh. Together.”

“Yeah but I know how you are in there,” he grinned and tapped the side of his head. “Thinking of how you can be more purposeful, so maybe you’ll forget everything going on. I thought that way too, after everything. Keep busy. Play the guitar. Make the effort to see my friends. Otherwise they’d forget me. And all it did was…make me tired. Did too much, burned myself out.

“To rest is sometimes the greatest purpose you can have.”

Eddie shot a pointed look across the table.

“Ok,” you nodded. He was right. You had been thinking that. Fleetingly.

His brow got tighter.

“What? I said ok?!” You held your hands out. It was more than a fleeting thought. He grabbed fries off your plate and shoveled them into his mouth to distract from the awkward moment.

But he got his point across.

He knew you too well. Even after a few weeks. Two sides of the same coin.

Was it too early to say you loved him?

---

You’re so strong.

It echoes in your head as you lay there, too tired to scream and cry anymore, too much feeling, too much emotion.

You are simply too much for your body.

It was a bad day.

You told that to your mom on the phone and she came over anyway. "You're stronger than anyone realizes, even you." What a slap in the face. You didn’t need to be strong. You needed to be left alone to rot here for a little while. Broken body, broken mind, broken soul.

She didn't understand that, she never did.

And so you screamed it at her.

The culmination of how she could fix your life, you just needed to listen to her, when she refused to listen to you. You had always been this abstract concept. A doll for her to dress up and play pretend with, not a human.

Years of pain you didn't mean to reflect back at her, but you did anyway.

Because you were weak.

Because it was a bad day.

"Something's gotta change," she shook her head as she stormed out. "There's something seriously wrong with you."

You knew that.

But it still hurt.

And then she called Eddie.

"She's just worried about you," he laid down next to you.

"Can she stop?" you asked. "Her obligation to me is over. She's not a mother anymore. She's been released from her sentence."

"Wayne--"

"I don't want to hear about Wayne," you wrenched your eyes shut, squeezed them shut, because you could feel the poison building in you again and you knew that you couldn't control it if the beast deep inside you wanted to attack. You couldn't do that to him. "Wayne is great. And even if he wasn't, it's not the same. So please..."

"I just..."

You turn and stare at him with wide, pleading eyes.

"Please Eddie."

He's never seen you like this; you wanted to hide this part of yourself from him. You wouldn't blame him if he ran away.

And as your body gave up on you again, you expected the bed to shift and the door to squeak open and slam shut.

But it never did.

"Alright," he whispered and shifted closer. Not touching. Just...closer. The heat of him brushing the length of your body. Enough for now. "I get it."

---

If the diner was holy, this was a place of insurmountable divinity.

Whispered words floating over skin and evaporating.

An orgasm secondary to a confession.

The closeness to one another, in body and in spirit, meant more than anything.

“I thought it was going to be over,” he muttered against your cheek. “I wanted it to be over. Finger on the trigger. A friend stopped me. And I hated him for it.”

You’re silent as he uses you, just as you’ve used him a hundred times. You open your mouths and swallow one another’s sorrows. It’s your own form of soothing and healing. Like licking a wound.

A doctor, a therapist, a friend could only hear so much. This was an act of consuming…becoming…

Was it healthy? Probably not.

But neither of you were.

“I’m exactly what they said I am.”

You feel his tears now. Or yours. They’re one in the same here. You are one in the same. Magnificent and horrible, the two of you.

“I’m nothing. I’m a freak. I’m a monster.”

“You’re my monster,” you whisper.

He spilled himself inside of you and all of his sorrow, expelled, warmed you from within.

---

You stared at the casket.

There was no hole in your chest.

No pain, no fear, no anger, no sorrow.

No numbness either.

Simply peace.

Death was peaceful. An old friend. Even if He wasn’t here for you this time.

You and Eddie had joked, the many times when you dragged him and the single time he dragged you to funerals like these, how yours would be.

Everyone mourned in their own way. You both liked to laugh.

“I want the full weekend at Bernie’s treatment,” he whispered conspiratorially. “Call my friends Gareth and Jeff and have them walk me around the room.”

“I want,” you upped the ante then, “you to make a life accurate paper mache model of me for the casket and halfway through the memorial, you beat me with a stick.”

“Can I put candy inside? Like a piñata?”

“You see the vision,” you kissed him proudly, happy that you found someone who found humor in your twisted ideas.

And you both liked to be unapologetically yourselves.

“You know those songs?” He started.

“The ones you think I don’t know about?” You rested your head on his shoulder. “Yeah.”

“Don’t throw em out or anything if I ever…” he shrugged. “Yeah. Make copies of them at the library or something.”

“Maybe I’ll get them published, like poems. The Unfinished Works of Edward J. Munson.”

“Like Mozarts Requiem.”

“So you do listen to my tapes.”

“When you aren’t home and I need to clear the ol’ nog, yeah.”

“Knew it,” you grinned triumphantly. There was a beat.

You wanted to ask him to look through your pictures, to remember you for who you were and not some idealized perfect thing like other people spoke of in a eulogy. You wanted him to remember you for the raw and wild thing that fought and spat and hissed and also loved and loved.

But you didn’t need to say it, because you knew he would.

You saw each other. Honored each other. The good and bad. The beautiful, broken, and incomplete.

He would make sure, if the time came, the world would know exactly who you were. Because he knew.

You took his shaky hand in yours and squeezed.

“You ok?” Eddie asked and pecked a kiss onto your head as you watched the casket be lowered into the ground.

“Yeah,” you smiled.

It was a good day.

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Sorry if that's already been asked but what do you think about the "King's word is the law" in hotd/dance discourse? I'm not sure where that even came from and for me there is 0 evidence that suggests it's true

Hi anon, excellent question! Sorry it took me so long to reply, this got a bit long! This is actually something that comes up a lot when I teach feudalism to my high school students. I've found that most people in general do not know the difference between feudalism and absolutism, and conceive of all kingship as a form of tyranny. And compared to most modern systems of government, of course feudalism and absolutism are both oppressive and restrictive, so the difference can feel a bit like splitting hairs. Neither system gives the the common people any real voice, but the difference is that feudalism is a system with a relatively weak monarchy that has to, both directly and indirectly, answer to both the church and to his vassals. But Westeros, even under the Targaryens, even with the dragons, is not, strictly peaking, an absolute monarchy but rather a feudal monarchy.

Broadly speaking, in a feudal system "the king's word is law" is only true insofar as the king can enforce that law, and to enforce his laws he needs the support of his vassals, the landholders who supply him with his armies and revenues. The feudal relationship between the king and his vassals looks roughly like this (this is the actual diagram we use in my world history curriculum):

Notice how the relationships are all reciprocal? The king might technically own all the land in the realm, but he has no standing army of his own. Knights pledge their service to the lords, rather than the king (he will have some knights in his personal service too, but not nearly enough to make war). It is in the king's best interest to keep his vassals happy. He needs them! They help him keep other unruly vassals in check, help defend against foreign invasion, and help him wage his own wars of expansion. They also provide the crown with revenue in the form of taxes, and their farmlands are what provide food for the people of the realm. In Westeros in particular, the royal family does not hold much land of its own (the land held by the royal family is called the royal demesne and the Targaryen royal demesne is very small compared to that of irl kings), so it's particularly dependent on the support of the vassalage. This makes it a relatively weak feudal monarchy, all things considered.

(also, notice the bishop up there with the lords? Usually, he would usually be appointed by the king with the approval of the pope, but the question of whether or not church officials were subjects of the king and subject to the king's laws was a huge point of contention hat caused many power struggles in medieval monarchies, and there was a whole separate court system, the ecclesiastical court, to deal with the crimes of court officials)

Anyway, a feudal king who just does whatever he wants without regard for his vassals will quickly find himself being named a tyrant, and the accusation of tyranny is a serious one in a feudal system, because vassals will rebel rather than serve a tyrant. Rebellions were not usually done with the goal of overthrowing the king completely, they were done in order to pressure the king into listening to their demands. We saw this happen with King John, whose barons were unhappy for a number of reasons including what they saw as avaricious economic policies, costly wars with France, increased royal interference in local administration of justice, and conflicts between the king and the church. Eventually, John's barons pressured him into signing the Magna Carta, a document that specifically limited the power of the king and stated outright that the king was not above the law and that the king could not impose new laws without the consent of the lords. John later repudiated this document, which led to further rebellions, and his son and heir Henry III had to reaffirm it after his death (and a series of rebellions still plagued Henry III). Eventually, this leads to a formalization of the idea that the king must not act without the consent of his lords and the creation of parliament.

Now, we never see a Westerosi Magna Carta or the creation of a set parliament, there is the small council and the occasional great council, and lords can and do object to the king's laws, force concessions, and remove kings. Notably, Robert's rebellion in the main series is an example of vassals losing faith in their king and eventually removing him. Aegon V cannot push his reforms through because he lacks the support of the lords, and in his desperation tries to bring back the dragons. But if we look back, even dragonriding Targaryens could not simply impose their will without the cooperation of the realm's lords. Aenys was considered weak and his rule was beset by rebellions, eventually coming to a head when he arranged an incestuous marriage for his heir, this after the Faith was already displeased with his brother's polygamous marriage. This led to Aenys being known as known as King Abomination and the Faith Militant uprising forced him to flee to Dragonstone. Maegor, who followed him, is ousted (and killed) as a tyrant for going further than that, suppressing the faith and committing kinslaying against his nephew. What makes Jaehaerys' rule notable and successful is that he's very good at appeasing the lords and when he is going to do something controversial, like the Doctrine of Exceptionalism or changing the succession, he campaigns and politicks for their support (I maintain that he knew Viserys being picked at the council was a forgone conclusion, but he did not want to unilaterally go against Andal custom without consulting his lords, it's a CYA move). This is something Viserys completely fails to do, not only failing to drum up support for his unconventional choice of heir, but actively alienating potential supporters.

It's worth keeping in mind that "law" means something different in this context than what many of us are used to today. Medieval law, and Westerosi law, was a hodgepodge of custom, statute, and precedent. Westeros, like England, operates on "common law." Successions are disputed all the time because competing claims exist. If Viserys named Mushroom heir, is his word law? What if he names Helaena? Jace? And in a normal situation, if it wasn't the succession of the throne in question the rival claimants would present their petitions, citing evidence and precedent, and the master of law, magistrate, or the king would make a ruling. The will of the lords is especially required to enforce an unconventional royal succession because succession takes place after the king is dead, and so if the succession is disputed, the claimants and the lords of the realm have to settle the dispute, nonviolently if possible, or else civil war will follow.

And you can get the lords behind an unconventional succession, but you have to have a good reason. "She's my favorite child from my favorite wife" is not actually good enough. For instance, when Robb chooses to legitimize Jon and disinherit Sansa in order to keep Winterfell out of Lannister hands, this is widely accepted among his vassals and allies because the reasoning is sound. Jon may be a bastard, but it would be worse for everyone to have Winterfell pass to a Lannister, even if it's shitty for Sansa. By the same logic, initially, Rhaenyra is accepted as heir because the lords do not want Daemon on the throne (the man she is now married to!). But after Aegon is born most assumed he would naturally become his father's heir. And remember, there's no reason for Alicent to marry Viserys if he cannot even ensure he inheritance of his own firstborn son. And Viserys never builds a case for Rhaenyra while he is alive, never tries to present Aegon as unworthy, he never has the lords come reaffirm their oaths, never writes a decree to formalize Westerosi succession. He doesn't take action because he knows he would not achieve anything near consensus (despite certain houses choosing Rhaenyra when it comes to war, it's doubtful they would have made the same choice if it had been a great council), so instead of dealing with the problem, he passes it on to his children.

I think it's fair to view the challenge to Rhaenyra's succession as an objection to what some see as tyranny on the part of the king. Viserys and Rhaenyra set themselves above the law in multiple ways-- not just jumping ahead of a son in the line of succession, but the way she has destabilized her own rule by placing bastards in her line of succession. What they are doing defies all precedent, and in a world where law is built in large part from precedent, this is not something the lords of the realm are obligated to accept.

[viaviv124]

Angst Leshy headcanon/concept

So Leshy is the youngest right? What if he has a bunch of underlying issues bc of that? Like, we don't know the bishop's parents and all but what if Leshy was always compared to his more successful siblings? Like even before they found the crowns they had their skills etc. Leshy probably has a huge inferiority complex due to always hearing "be more like your siblings", considering their ages their upbringing might've also been really strict. So Leshy, who has always been energetic, grew fond of chaos, espacially causing it through pranks etc. He tried to make people see and acknowledge Leshy, not just view him as 'the youngest of the 5'. He wanted to be seen. (In a modern setting he was probably also a bully and troublemaker in school for these exact reasons.) He also probably started to pick on Kallamar occassionally because his cowardice could provide Leshy with a needed feeling of power and control. Shamura probably tried their best to be there for him and i think Narinder and Leshy used to also be really close, but there's only so much they can do when they're partially responsible for his issues in the first place.

When he found the green crown he probably thought that's HIS chance to prove himself to be more as to what people see him as, only to find out his siblings all found a crown as well, causing him to still stand in their shadow. So he keeps trying to one-up the others constantly, in turn becoming the god of chaos whilst also granting safety, he wants to always be on top. And he's acting oh-so prideful to keep this devine aura that he's better than everyone else.

I think that's why he'd fall so head over heels for the yellow cat when he's under the lambs rule. The cat sees him for HIM. When they look at him they see Leshy, not his siblings or even the power he once held. They look directly at him and they're always honest around him, as well as supporting him as good as possible with his lack of sight. They bring out this lost child that has been trying to get attention and praise for so long and nurture it. They're also the first one to see him cry ever since he was a child.

Feeling the yellow cat's face, or just touching them in general, is Leshy's favorite past time next to gardening.

Oh yeah, i think that's also a reason why he loves growing flowers etc and he probably picked that up ever since he was young. They grow and bloom for him. They're his responsibility and without him they'd wilt. Not to mention, plants cannot speak. They're perfect to talk and vent to. It's just comfort for him.

[scotianostra]

On February 28th 1638, the Second Covenant was signed in Greyfriars Churchyard.

You will have seen many of my posts regarding battles that came after this date in what eventually led to "The Killing Times" in Battles between those loyal to King Charles II called Royalists and those who that believed in the Covenant, the Covenanters. The whole affair covers from about 1637 to 1688.

When Charles I took the throne of England and Scotland, one of the things he tried to do was make the Scottish kirk more like the English church. He instituted a new Book of Common Prayer without input from the National Assembly. This angered the Scots, and riots broke out against the imposition of what was seen as Charles's English-influenced changes.

You might have heard of Jenny Geddes, who is said to have been the one who started the riots with throwing a stool in St Giles on 23rd July 1637, as she hurled the stool she is reported to have yelled: "De'il gie you colic, the wame o' ye, fause thief; daur ye say Mass in my lug?" meaning "Devil cause you colic in your stomach, false thief: dare you say the Mass in my ear?"

Well all this led to this day in 1638 when a group of nobles met at Greyfriars Kirkyard in Edinburgh and signed an agreement that they called the National Covenant of Scotland. They affirmed their loyalty to the king, but asserted the legality of the kirk and its customs. It was essentially a statement of independence in religious matters and a protest against English influence in church matters.

The Covenant was circulated around the country and those who signed it were called Covenanters. The Covenanters called a National Assembly which gathered in November 1638. The National Assembly abolished the system of bishops imposed by James VI, rejected the Book of Common Prayer, and refused the rest of Charles I's plans for church reform. They also raised an army; which might seem odd considering they made clear their allegiance to the king.

The Covenaters army was under the leadership of Alexander Leslie. Charles promised to meet with the Covenanters if they disbanded their army. They did, but Charles did not keep his word. The Covenanters raised a new army led by James Graham, the Earl of Montrose, and marched into England. The king was forced to meet with them. This time, however, the Covenanters did not trust Charles, and they reached an agreement directly with Parliament, by which terms all of the National Assembly's terms were accepted.

Unfortunately, after these resounding successes, things went sour. The Covenanters quarrelled amongst themselves. some wanted to force the king to abdicate. Others were alarmed because people were being forced to sign the Covenant.

However, the power struggle in the Covenanters army was nothing compared to the struggle in English society; Parliament and King Charles were about to embark on a civil war, and both sides courted the Scots. The Scots saw their chance and demanded a Scottish-style church in England in exchange for their help. Parliament agreed with these terms, and signed the Solemn League and Covenant. The Covenanters army then joined the English Civil War on Parliament's side. The Scots played a leading role in the decisive Royalist victory at the Battle of Marston Moor.

However, though the Covenanters joined Parliament, their erstwhile leader, the Earl of Montrose, could not bring himself to turn against the king. He felt that the Covenanters had gone far beyond the terms of the original Covenant and he joined the Royalist side. With Charles's blessing he returned to Scotland to raise a Royalist army. This he did, drawing heavily on support from the Highland clans, and fighting a guerilla war with small, quick moving forces. His tactics proved a huge success and within a year he had taken almost all of Scotland for the king. He was on his way south to England when he met a Covenanters army under Leslie at Selkirk. The Covenanters won a massive victory, and Montrose was forced to flee.

Charles surrendered to a Covenanting army in England. The Scots were now unsuccessful on several fronts; Charles would not agree to sign the Solemn League and Covenant, and Parliament refused to pay the Scots expenses as promised. The Covenanters finally returned to Scotland, and gave Charles over to the English Parliament after they affirmed that no harm would come to the king. That promise, of course, was not kept, and Charles was eventually executed.

The Earl of Argyll took over control of Scotland. He declared war on England and proclaimed Charles II as king. Even with the support of a Scots army under Argyll, Charles did not trust the Scots. After all, he reasoned, they had handed over his father to Parliament. Charles did not trust the Earl of Montrose, nor did he feel he could sign the Solemn League and Covenant. The Earl of Montrose was betrayed by his enemies and executed in Edinburgh.

Charles II eventually agreed to sign the Covenant, though it seems only as a pretext so he could gain Scottish support in his bid to reclaim the English throne.

Now roles were reversed and the Covenanters in Scotland fought on behalf of a Stuart king. Oliver Cromwell led his Parliamentary army into Scotland and defeated Charles and Covenanters and Charles was forced to flee the country once again.

Finally, in 1660 Charles was restored to the English throne. Now he showed his true colours in regard to Scotland; he declared invalid all laws passed by the parliament since 1633. He replaced the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland with bishops on the English model, and they were placed under control of Parliament. Not unnaturally, Charles's measures were resented and caused more religious turmoil.

The ministers of the church either had to accept the terms or leave there Kirk's, most left rather than be forced out, this led to open air field "conventicles", The Royalists didn't take kindly to this and fines were dished out to those not attending the now near empty churches, the death penalty was imposed for preaching at these outdoor gatherings, torture was used on those captured to give the names of those organising the Coventicles. This went on until King James VII fled to France.

There are monuments scattered around Scotland to the martyrs who died during the killing time, most notably on the spot where many were executed on the Grassmarket in Edinburgh, The Wigtown Martyrs Monument at Stirling and Martyrs' Memorial, Barony North Church, Glasgow.

The pic shows The Signing of the National Covenant in Greyfriars Kirkyard, by the distinguished Scottish historical painter William Allan and a replica Covenanter flag in The National Museum of Scotland, which you can see in the painting.

[bethanydelleman]

In one of my most popular posts, I pointed out that Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë's writing styles don't have a ton in common, despite being constantly recommended to Austen fans looking for further reading.

Anthony Trollope is another name I hear frequently as similar to Austen. And let me say now.

No. Stop it.

I read his most famous and popular novel, Barchester Towers. The whole time I had this vibe, though I couldn't exactly find a quote to support it, that this author did not really respect women. The main hero is explicitly said to treat women like children. A main plot is about a bishop being hen-pecked (controlled by his wife). Another main plot is a woman who is a heartless, magical siren.

Well then the vibe stopped being a vibe (woman is ivy, man is tower):

When the ivy has found its tower, when the delicate creeper has found its strong wall, we know how the parasite plants grow and prosper. They were not created to stretch forth their branches alone, and endure without protection the summer's sun and the winter's storm. Alone they but spread themselves on the ground and cower unseen in the dingy shade. But when they have found their firm supporters, how wonderful is their beauty; how all-pervading and victorious! What is the turret without its ivy, or the high garden wall without the jasmine which gives it its beauty and fragrance? The hedge without the honeysuckle is but a hedge.

Yeah, I want to vomit. Women are a parasitic vine that cannot grow properly without a man? Fuck you, Anthony Trollop.

And why in the world would anyone compare this author to Austen?

Before someone fights me:

Yes, I realize that an author from 1857 might have unfortunate views about women. I'm not an idiot. I choose to read those who don't.

Yes, I know I only read one novel. I'm not going further because that was enough for me. I also wasn't very fond of his writing style besides the misogyny.

The main problem here is the comparison to Jane Austen, not Anthony Trollope himself. I didn't find them comparable at all besides being British and the presence of clergymen. If you love Trollope, this is not an attack on you personally.

[spurious]

It’s Cultural

The day after the data burst including news of the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell comes through, Rodney walks into Sheppard’s office and notices a little rainbow flag sitting unobtrusively in the cup where John keeps two pens and five perfectly sharpened number two pencils.

“Ah,” Rodney says, nodding to the flag, “congratulations to your government for joining the rest of us in the twenty-first century.”

That gets him a sharp, sarcastic smile, Sheppard leaning back in his chair and twirling a pen—his pen, not one of the crappy BICs from the cup—between long, clever fingers.

“Good of you to, um,” one of Rodney’s hands comes up, circling through the air, “show support.” He snaps his fingers, suddenly remembering the term Jeannie’d used to describe herself during one of those phone calls where Rodney felt like he was only following about half of what was being said, “Allies are, well, important, and all that.”

John blinks two times, twirls the pen once, and says, “Well, I’m gay, actually.”

“Oh!” Rodney says, half of his brain turning to static. He nods his head, hears himself say, “cool,” and watches John’s mouth do something before he rights his chair, looks like he’s about to speak.

“Gentlemen,” and Woolsey’s voice right at his left shoulder makes Rodney startle, whirling around with wide eyes. “Senior staff meeting?”

“Right behind you,” Sheppard says, sliding smoothly out of his chair, and then it’s just another day on Atlantis.

Another day on Atlantis for Rodney, right now, means spending four hours elbow-deep in the wiring of the city’s power systems, which have been acting screwy ever since they flew the city back to Pegasus. He makes good progress, actually, focused and in the zone, and he doesn’t even realize that some siloed-off part of his mind has been working on the morning’s revelation until Sheppard shows up for dinner and chess and Rodney suddenly has about fourteen pressing questions for him.

Over the years, Rodney’s heard John Sheppard share personal information about himself on vanishingly few occasions, even fewer if it’s narrowed down to times when he’s been in full possession of his faculties, but since it had been nine in the morning and they’d all already been vaccinated against most Pegasus truth serums, he has to conclude that this detail about Sheppard’s sexuality was, in fact, freely given. It’s that conclusion that makes Rodney open his mouth (though he waits till they’re alone in his quarters, chess board between them, because he’s got no reason to believe that John isn’t still near-pathologically private).

“So you’re,” Rodney says, setting down the pawn in his hand, “you’re gay gay? Not like, bi, or, or…uh, heteroflexible, or…”

John sighs like he’s expected this, and picks up one of his bishops, the piece looking long and ivory between his tanned fingers. “Gay gay,” he confirms.

Rodney nods, compares this to the data set. “What about—you were married, to a woman, and the, the ancient priestesses, and Larrin—“

John gives him a thoughtful look, like he’s trying to decide whether to brush this whole thing off or not, and then he sets the bishop down, leans back against Rodney’s couch.

“Look, it’s kind of like…” he pauses, furrowing his brow, and Rodney realizes he’s not getting the brush-off, he’s actually getting the hard-won John Sheppard honesty, which usually doesn’t show up unless someone’s nearly died recently. “You know how you’re a kid and your parents take you to church every Sunday, but when you grow up you just,” John shrugs, “you just go on Christmas and Easter ‘cause it’s what you’re supposed to do?”

Rodney blinks. Sometimes he forgets that John is actually just as weird as he is, underneath the hair and handsomeness and athleticism.

“So you’re saying you…” Rodney wavers, trying to speak within the analogy John’s set up, “you fuck women culturally?”

John shrugs. “Essentially, yeah.”

[celestialsister0918]

Fic Writing Review 2023

Thanks for tagging me, @gammacousin!

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either. (Copied and pasted)

Words and Fics

Word Count:

142,081

Fic Count:

6 started. 5 completed

Most Productive Month: February by far, thanks to Kinkuary!

Top Five by Hits

The One He Needs Right Now: Jim Gordon's Kinkuary: 5941

What I'm Thinking About (Sirius x Ginny): 3600

A Window Not Missed (Bruce x Nat): 2107

A Window Closed (Bruce x Nat): 1101

In the Sepulcher by the Sea (Sirius x Severus): 684

Top Five by Kudos

A Window Not Missed (Bruce x Nat): 96

What I'm Thinking About (Sirius x Ginny): 61

A Window Closed (Bruce x Nat): 47

In the Sepulcher by the Sea (Sirius x Severus): 32

The One He Needs Right Now: Jim Gordon's Kinkuary: 24

Fandom events:

Two @trulymadlydeeplyfest fests! 1 in February and 1 in October. Both Harry Potter. I'm so bad at knowing where all the fests are so those are my only two.

Upcoming Plans:

To Complete:

Finish "A Window Closed" (Bruce x Nat)

Start "A Window Opened" (Bruce x Nat)

Start "A Special Election" (Jim Gordon x NEW OC) - I have one chapter written and some dialogue prompts for chapter 2. I'm soooo excited for this one.

Other Ideas:

Continue one-off Sirius and other Gary Oldman character one-shots on Tumblr.

Write a Jackson Lamb piece

Maybe write a Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova one-shot if the mood strikes

Write another Gary Oldman RPF (many dialogue prompts already written). Here's my first Gary RPF if interested... it was set during the Dracula filming. The new one will be set after his divorce from Alex but before Gisele.

Reflection

I took a couple long breaks from writing this year. After finishing "Submissioner Gordon" in December of 2022, I was at a pretty bad low from lack of interaction with that fic. My heart has NEVER been in something as much as it was that fic, so to have so many hits and so little interaction made me think everyone hated it. Yet I continued the story with the Kinkuary prompts, where I wrote a short fic every day for 28 days. Again, I feel like it bombed.

At the same time, I made what I thought would be my last hurrah in the Harry Potter fandom, and it didn't do so great either. I was in a BAD spot comparing myself to other writers, so I took a long hiatus.

During that break, I started watching the entire MCU with my son, start to finish. My brain grabbed onto Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanoff and would NOT let go. So in May, I began publishing the "Never Say Never" series, where I try to fix their story.

The feedback from the Marvel fandom and Brutasha readers/writers really warmed my heart and got me back in the groove. I am forever thankful to them, because it truly restored my confidence in writing.

I will always be thankful for my Wizarding World series and the Submissioner Gordon/Daddy Issues universe, and my brain loves to revisit those stories and characters. It's just bittersweet because it never really found its audience. However the feedback I got from my foray into the MCU fandom has built my confidence enough that I am able to write in HP and Dark Knight without really worrying what others think. I am just doing it for me and my love for the characters. I know my writing isn't bad--- it's just not a lot of people's cup of tea.

I also want to give a shoutout to the small but steadfast Gary Oldman fandom I have found on Tumblr and Instagram. They've become very dear to my heart, and I love that we can share random thirst posts together when so many others just don't get it.

If anyone is reading this, please share your 2023 stats and reflections as well! I love writers supporting writers. Happy 2024 to you all!

[theoxenfree]

re: art and art history, this is one of my favourite pieces that I learned about during my one (1) art history class! (sorry it's a little long ajdhfhs)

It's "Pieta" by William-Adolphe Bouguereau, which is a biblical moment that has many artistic depictions (i think the most well known one is the statue "madonna della pieta" by michelangelo iirc)

the subject matter is mary grieving her son jesus after he passes on the cross, but the thing that makes this painting notable for the time period (according to my art history prof) was that most depictions of the virgin mary and jesus were very focused on depicting them as "beautiful" and "dramatic" as possible, so the raw (almost furious) grief that you see on Mary's face here was extremely unusual compared to the other depictions of pieta/virgin mary at the time.

it is important to note that the painter was grieving the passing of his own son when he painted this.

needless to say, this piece resonated so much with me in so many different aspects which solidifies its spot as one of my favourite art pieces of all time! (michelangelo's pieta is worth checking out too!)

heya, bitti!!! thanks for expanding on this conversation, I think this is so sick! I'd love to hear about more paintings/other aspects of art history that you like!

so, with the background info you gave me about how, at the time, paintings were made to be more "beautiful" and "dramatic", what I find really interesting here is that every other character within the painting are just that. beautiful and dramatic, particularly jesus. they really embody what I envision other similar paintings of the time are trying to encapsulate—but, mary is such a drastic departure from that. I can imagine it was a really jarring piece for ppl to see around that time period

bc even though most of the portrait is fairly muted in terms of the vividity of colors, it's all still fairly "bright", particularly jesus. but then you have mary here who is not only sitting there in raw, controlled anger, she's also much darker than any of the other characters in the painting, which effectively gives deeper depth and disquiet to the painting as a whole. you can really see just how intensely the artist focused on mary's darkness and shadows and the intensity of her stare. the artist probably thought he was seeing himself look back from the canvas.

I'm really not an art history person, never once took a class, but one painting that I see which never fails to evoke emotion from me is:

The Execution of Lady Jane Grey by Paul Delaroche. I particularly like this one because of the historical background to it wherein she was only queen for nine days before mary tudor had her deposed and beheaded. poor kid was only 17. to me, this piece is extremely emotive and so powerfully so that I can spend, like, minutes just staring at each character in the painting.

my favorites are jane grey's ladies in waiting (particularly the one who is thrown against the wall with her back turned) and the priest/bishop/whoever. the lady in waiting is trying to create distance from jane, hide herself from the sight, and dressed immensely dark compared to jane, whereas I feel like the priest/bishop/whoever is almost embracing her, supporting her, gently guiding her to the slab—maybe a final act of kindness towards her??? you can absolutely tell the executioner doesn't want to be there, either.

I also find it very interesting that lady jane grey is also so vivid compared to the rest of the characters in the painting. my brain automatically interpreted it as the artist trying to portray her "innocence" (she was 17, man).

idk man, it's such a good piece to me. I love it!

[faytalepsy]

Hi Fay! I was admiring some of your drawings yesterday and this little thing popped into my head 😊 i'm a great fan of your work (not just your drawings but your fics too) so i thought i'd share how they inspire me. It's not much but since it's the first time i write anything at all i'm trying to not be too hard on myself (apologies for any mistakes and formatting, english is not my first language)

you're a gift to this fandom ❤💫

Farah had never bothered to learn how to play chess; truth be told she didn't have the patience for it nor did she care much about strategy (luckily for her and the rest of the batallion, Saul had a natural talent for it).

At first, Rosalind had tried to encourage her to learn by using analogies (that Farah barely understood) and explaining pieces and rules and tactics and other things that Farah didn't pay much attention to. At the end of the day she couldn't remember any of it but to her relief (and surprise) her mentor didn't press it. So Farah never learnt.

Sometimes she felt guilty about it but why should she waste time with that? Her strength was her magic. She was training to become a soldier, to fight in the war. All she had to do was follow Rosalind, she'd train her and lead her into battle. She'd lead all of them to victory.

When she was young Farah used to try to work out which chess piece each member of the batallion represented, even though she only had a vague idea of their value and how they moved: were the specialists meant to be the pawns? Rosalind probably thought so, but surely Saul and Andreas were worth more than an average pawn... and what about the fairies? Would Rosalind consider the less powerful ones in the same regard as the specialists? A fairy like Ben had to be a rook at the very least; he might even become a knight or a bishop one day.

As for the king, Farah decided early on that it represented the inhabitants of the Otherworld. The queen was the most powerful piece in the board which meant it could only be Rosalind. So what was Farah supposed to be?

When she was feeling confident, Farah even dared consider herself as the queen, which left Rosalind in the place of the king. It made sense, she'd tell herself, her mentor didn't take much part in the actual fighting anymore but she remained the most important member of their army. She was the head, their leader, the only piece they couldn't afford to lose.

How stupid she'd been. How blind and ignorant. Pawns and rooks and knights, even the king and queen, they were all just pieces in a game. Rosalind had been the player all along.

Hi my wonderful amazing anon!! I'm incredibly sorry it took me this long to respond but I wanted to do it right and not just type a quick answer crammed in between lectures or other assignments!

First, thank you so so much for your message. I am truly honoured that you shared this with me and everytime I hear one of my works inspires people I could jump with joy! I feel like inspiring others is one of the most beautiful things art can do and it doesn't happen often to me that I'm on the inspiring end!💕

And of course I'm also beyond happy you like ny drawings and fics, thank you for the support!!!💕

As a chess lover (although quite the amateur I fear) I always love chess analogies!! But I have to admit I found it hard to apply them to fate characters because in my mind they only work for specific situations because everyone switches places in my head depending on situation and relationship. That's why I love love love how you had Farah deliberating the pieces and her place on the board from her perspective as a soldier in the war! And the king as the inhabitants of the otherworld would make so much sense! But also Farah deliberating both herself and Rosalind as Queen, comparing how she would measure up to her mentor just to realise that Rosalind was the player all along because she absolutely was.

Again you so much for sharing this and I hope you write more whenever inspiration hits!!

Also can I just say that this message made me happy everytime I opened my inbox for the past week?? because it absolutely has been brightening my day!💕

[kyogre-blue]

Staring the Kingdom half of CF!

The standout point is obviously the interplay regarding Arianrhod. Taking it is part of a strategy to attack Fhirdiad in a pincer maneuver, but a side goal is killing Cornelia, who Edelgard and Hubert know is an Agarthan. The whole thing is cloaked in plausible deniability and doubletalk, but Arundel pretty much immediately retaliates by dropping javelins of light onto Arianrhod as a warning. Of course, Edie then proceeds to lie and claim the church did it. Woof.

As a side note, there was a lot of supports this chapter because I went to the monastery a few times and ate a bunch of meals. I don't care too much for the Black Eagles, so I didn't have too many impressions (though some pairings seem to work better than others imo), but one interesting thing is that Edelgard is... hm, more patient that I would necessarily give her credit for?

I know people say they admire her drive and determination, but given her nonsense and unfounded goals, I never really saw those as positives. However, I have to say her self-control is quite impressive. She really can keep a straight face through anything (only giving actual emotional reactions to Byleth once she's very comfortable with them) - compare to Claude quite easily losing his cool and getting defensive if something hits too close to home. But she also keeps a very even keel when dealing with the Black Eagles' "quirks." In particular, she's quite calm in regard to Bernadetta's nonsense in a way that is quite humanizing.

It's not anything deep, but I did find it interesting.

Live blogging:

Hum... the way they go "we're marching to Fhirdiad!... except we're not! we're going to Arianrhod!" really feels like they realized they needed to squeeze in at least one more chapter to pad out the route. Edelgard's promotion to Emperor class also feels very random.

In-universe, we're sending most of the army toward the capital, while our little group goes to assault a famous fortress. Somehow. How are we even reaching it...

Hubert and Edie know about Cornelia having a "weapon" (Titanus, as we see later).

Lysithea is touched at being trusted with this secret plan (as part of the strike force) and says she's now fully into Edie's cool aid. Petra likes surprise tactics. Leonie... does not. She slips up and calls it cowardly lol.

Felix insists he's totally cool with betraying his homeland and his family, he'll kill his king, his father and the goddess, you just watch... but his sword feels heavy u.u

Ingrid says she's... not cool with being a traitor everyone who ever loved her, but you see, she must because uh Byleth said so and she trust Byleth (and their C rank in lances or whatever it was).

Sylvain is thinking about Dimitri and wants to train. He's mentioned before that he's afraid he'll get killed in battle, as well as the rest of us.

Dimitri is called the Tempest King because there's nothing left in his wake, like after a storm.

Edelgard has locked herself in her room. She also painted a portrait of Byleth. Sure, ok.

120 years ago, the Southern Church in the empire "had a massive insurrection" and the bishop who participated was exiled by the emperor. Boy, the Empire sure has a lot of insurrections, huh?

Bernie has decided she wants to travel and draw pictures of (cute carnivorous) plants she sees.

Caspar's supports with Petra and Shamir both bring up his feelings of guilt about his father's and the empire's war and the human toll of that. It's... kind of something that both of them seem to mostly sidestep the issue in the end.

I think the quest to get the dark merchant to appear on this route only gives you... Brigid and bandit battalions, so the Morfis battalion being linked to it on SS was just a coincidence, I guess.

Arianrhod is a fortress city that was built about 400 years ago. It was built by the Empire (using their "money and technology") against the Kingdom, I guess during their independence war. However, the head of House Rowe betrayed the empire and sided with the kingdom, making it change hands right before its completion. It has not fallen since. It's called the Silver Maiden due to its beautiful white walls.

Cornelia brought some Titanus with her, along with dark mages and... Gwendal. She tells the Titanus(es?) to go ahead and kill Kingdom troops too.

Doesn't seem to be any special dialogue for Cornelia vs Edelgard.

Immediately after we beat up Cornelia, Arundel comes over lol. Lots of double talk between him and Edelgard but the main point is that, per the paralogue, Edelgard is beginning to act more impudently toward the Agarthans, since she is gaining more and more power and getting closer to her goal (after which, they're next on the chopping block). This includes intentionally targeting Cornelia while still maintaining deniability about how she totes didn't know Cornelia was an Agarthan mole.

btw, the fact that I know we do not have a section for fighting the Agarthans on this route is high-key ridiculous, given the buildup.

The Agarthans nuke Arianrhod as a warning, though that's uh... quite pointless, honestly. Based on Hubert's panicked reaction and Edelgard's obvious surprise, they did not know this was a thing.

However, they had previously investigated Aillel and thought it was the goddess's doing. They know better now... but that won't stop them from blaming it on the church anyway!

The scene of Edelgard calmly lying to the crew is amazing as a contrast. I haven't seen whatever equivalent there is on AM, but iirc VW had a pretty direct parallel where Claude explains stuff to the team. It had the usual Church Bad issues, but that's at least his honest perspective and not... flat lying. This route is really just lies all the way down.

[crystalelemental]

The unfortunate thing is that, in spite of Bravely Second being as poor story as its predecessor, I am...kind of enjoying this gameplay quite a bit.

Bravely Default's class system I remember being more annoying to me, and couldn't fully articulate why. I think this game handed me the answer. Apparently your damage scales DOWN if you aren't proficient in the class, making experimentation a nightmare. Go figure.

This game does not do that, resulting in a more streamlined experience, I suppose. Moreover though, I'll have a difficult time continuing to talk about Bravely Default 1 because I legitimately do not remember it. So I'll only talk on this game's merits.

Your introductory set of classes defy convention. It's not the expected Black Mage, White Mage, Knight, whatever fourth. Instead, you get...well, options kinda similar but different a bit.

First up is Wizard. This takes inspiration from Black Mage, but notably integrates the Brave/Default system in a way I like. See, Wizard spells are AoE by default, hitting everything for fairly low damage. However, this is combined with Spellcraft, which lets you customize how the spell operates. Initially, you get Needle and some other type. By using these, you take up a second action, but deal concentrated damage that's...actually pretty huge. At later spellcraft levels, you get access to my personal favorites, Hammer and Mist. Mist applies a persistent spell effect for three turns, while Hammer is just tremendous damage dealt as blunt damage. Hammer dealt 3600 on a crit once. For comparison, a special move from Edea dealt around 1200. It's great damage. The Mist is even more nutty. See, you can combine these effects with general spells as well. So I got the Red Mage class, and can combine Fira with Mist to apply an AoE fire burst every turn. But the real money is in supportive effects. See, I can also use Mist with Cura, to provide a mist that will restore a solid amount of HP every round. I have not tried with Raise, but I assume it works comparably. So this is a great effect, I adore Wizard skills. Admittedly, I currently took their Spellcraft skill and applied it to my Red Mage, in order to build up the BP accumulating skills. I think Wizard is the better base class; two skill slots for Spellcraft is a lot. Worth it, but a lot.

Next up is Charioteer. This is a sort-of offensive class, in that its function is to build weapon proficiency every action in battle, and has early access to a great +20% Phys Atk buff as a skill. In truth, I don't care for it. Charioteer isn't doing anything too interesting. There's a toss weapon skill I haven't used. That might do it. There's also the ability to equip three weapons, taking one on the head part, which is fine but never my style. I value defensive ability too much. So this one's shifted off.

Then you get Fencer, which is a bit more rounded. Fencer works with stances, having Wolf Stance to boost offenses 25%, and aurochs stance for defensive boosting of the same value. There's also Falcon Stance but that's later. By rank 4, Fencer gets the ability to use skills in either stance that shift them to the other. Which should be cool! Unfortunately, when you use Brave, all actions are counted under the current stance, so as far as I can tell you cannot just use both interchangeably to keep pressure going. Sad. Moreover the later phases will give options like immediately starting in Wolf Stance, or letting buffs persist as you stance change. Their big final skill is 4x0.8 damage to random targets, which...look. I just got Swordmaster. Our skills can swing for 3x damage without separating hits. I am not particularly worried. Fencer is interesting, but I feel like the most interesting aspect of it fell short of expectations so it will not be staying.

Lastly there's Bishop, the spin on White Mage. Bishop seems to just...do exactly what White Mage does. I literally cannot tell the difference. The spells are the same, down to the time you get them. I have no strong feelings about them.

The first distinction decision is Thief or Red Mage. I went Red Mage because come on. Thief does stealing stuff, but Red Mage does magic, so obvious decision even outside of the ethical conundrum. Red Mage has a few skills that can restore BP, and my main focus is on "Restore 1BP when you evade." I have a feeling there will be a combo with this.

Like Astrologian! Who I hate. I'm sorry, it's a single-target impermanent buff of like 30%, it's not that good. It can boost evasion by its second tier of spells, which can combo with Red Mage a bit, but there's going to be better I'm sure.

Then there's the decision between Summoner and Swordmaster. I got Swordmaster because come on, I'm not gonna side against Mephilia. This gives skills for follow-up attacks and counters at full damage, which is delightful. I needed a new physical class too, since I didn't care for the first two.

Right now the party is Bishop (Yew), Swordmaster (Edea), Red Mage (Magnolia), and Fencer (Tiz). I haven't encountered anything too difficult, and no game overs yet. We'll see. Chapter 2 is usually a serious increase in challenge with these games. Our next skill should be dealing with this Catmancer assassin, and let me tell you, Catmancer will definitely be on the team.

[racefortheironthrone]

It was a line in this lecture by David Starkey. If you look on YouTube for "David Starkey: Was Henry VI that bad? David Starkey Lectures" at around 7:45 time mark, he talking the colleges Henry VI founded and how England still maintains a lot of them or the old tradition of endowments "by accidents of our bizarre non-Reformation" and didn't really understand what he meant by that.

Ah. As a bit of introductory advice, I would recommend watching YouTube videos from historians other than David Starkey. There are other, better British historians of the same period who aren't racist loons.

But I think I understand what you were originally asking; unless I mistake you, I think you missed out a negative here which I will add:

Maybe I'm wrong, but the English Reformation seems very different and not a "true" one (maybe "true" isn't the right word) compared to other nations like Scotland or Germany or Scandinavia or wherever?

While the English Reformation has certain unique features, I don't think it's accurate to say it wasn't a "true" Reformation or a "non-Reformation" just because Henry VIII was a crypto-Catholic. I think this attitude is something of an artifact of the tendency in Starkey and other more traditional British historians to overly focus on monarchs rather than taking a broader (dare I say social history) view.

Regardless of what Henry VIII thought, the English Reformation was real and important to Cranmer and Cromwell and the Seymours and the rest of the Protestant faction, and (in a strange way) to Gardiner and More and Fisher and Norfolk and the rest of the Catholic faction. Likewise, it was real to the ordinary people who marched in the Pilgrimage of Grace or who engaged in iconoclastic riots in the reign of Edward VI or during the Civil War.

To make some international comparisons:

it was true that the Scottish Reformation was driven by a lot of mad lads and lasses who could not get enough of tearing down cathedrals with their bare hands, but it was also true that it was driven by very pragmatic considerations of Anglo-Scottish relations, and conflict between the French and anti-French factions in Scottish politics.

Likewise, Germany is a bit of a mixed bag. Yes, there were people who believed so strongly in their faiths that they were willing to die and kill for them - you don't get the Thirty Years War otherwise. But there were plenty of Protestant princes who jumped on the bandwagon because they wanted to get their hands on tithe money and Church lands and didn't give a damn about the theology, as we can see from the examples of the Protestant Prince-Bishoprics of Lübeck and Osnabrück.

Finally, Scandinavia: the Swedish Reformation had a lot to due with Papal support for the Kalmar Union and Gustav Vasa's very personal grudge over the Stockholm Bloodbath. Ditto Denmark-Norway, where it had a lot to do with Christian III not getting along with his father (who he deposed) or the bishop-dominated Rigsraad.

So no, I don't think the English Reformation was that unusual by comparison.

[pardonmystardust]

this has to sit in ur inbox until you have time.

Okay so first thing, now that I sit and think about it, I'm really comparing the song itself for No Chances to the music video for Jumpsuit and basically making do by playing with my dolls because we haven't gotten a No Chances mv.

Big picture, both of these are stories about an attempted Perimeter Escape, and the lengths that the Bishops will go to in order to bring (Tyler, Clancy, the clique, me, you, etc.) back to Dema. "This is a story about cycles, and trying to break them."

In Jumpsuit, Dema attempts to recapture their subject by force, sending a Bishop on horseback to collect the escapee like a sheep that's veered from the flock; the tactics in No Chances focus more on negotiation and emotional manipulation, seducing the subject to return under the false premise of free choice.

The comparisons I want to draw here really narrow in on the bridge of Jumpsuit and the stripped down part of the second chorus in No Chances (2:24-3:05) which honestly feels about as close to a "bridge" as No Chances gives us. That chorus didn't have to repeat there, and certainly didn't have to be as painstakingly slow and intentional, but it makes for one of my favorite moments on the album, and I'll try and describe why:

Like many controlling and manipulative power structures, Dema's message in No Chances is two faced and double sided: the feigned concern of "We get bodies every day/ We want you home in once piece now" frames the act of submission to the Bishops' control as being in the escapee's best interests i.e., "We only want what's best for you," a line of thinking that's sure to resonate with many victims of abuse- whereas the ominous chanting refrain "We come for you/ No chances," is fully mask off and let's the victim know in private that the threats are just as real and vile as ever.

This second chorus though, to me feels like a moment of weakness, where the seductive appeal of settling back in to the familiar begins to take a grip.

The Bishops have caught up to you-

And their message is starting to seep in- perhaps you're actually listening to what they're saying for the first time instead of railing against it on instinct alone.

And right then, it's all so simple. It's all so easy. You've been running for so long. You've been fighting. You're tired. Trench is not where you belong, child, even you admit this much. It's cold. Wouldn't it be easier to just come home? To come back where you belong? Where it's safe? After all, "We want you home in one piece, now."

And this is where our two stories diverge. In both, something alerts our hero that this path is an errant one. In Jumpsuit, the Banditos rally around him, throw out their support, and give a striking display of solidarity that reminds him that this line is not the only way; you are not alone here and this is enough to fuel your fight. Unfortunately, in No Chances, our friend is not so fortunate. He learns that his submission is a mistake, not from a jolt of support, but from from a reinforcement of the knowledge that what he's known all along has been true. Even as he tries to cling to the seductive call of a safe home, he hears the sirens in the background- the red flags start to go off, the mask begins to lift.

In Jumpsuit, the newfound confidence in our strength and our networks of supports allows us to flee. But in No Chances, it's far too late. There is no flight. Dema's teeth are already sunk into you and you're theirs again. It's over.

At last, the mask is now completely off once again. The reality crashes in around you, and it crashes hard. "We come for you/ No chances." It's deafening. It's inescapable. And even in your defeat, even as you lie shivering and captured...

There is no protector this time. This story does not end with hope. There is no watcher on the cliffside. Truly, "Nobody's coming for me."

[minecraft-llama]

Chess Blog Day #38 - Chess and Its Family

Although there still remains some debate on whether chess originated in India or Persia, most historians believe chess to have originated in India.

The common ancestor of chess-like games would then be Chaturanga.

"Chaturanga" literally means "four divisions". The four divisions were infantry, cavalry, elephants and chariotry. These would later become the modern pawn, knight, bishop and rook.

Chaturanga was played on an 8x8 board but this board wasn't checkered like a chessboard.

Chaturanga was probably the earliest game to have two things that chess has that other board games like Go don't: Different pieces with different powers, and a single piece that the game centres around trapping (a "king").

Chaturanga was then introduced to Persia (modern Iran) and became Chatrang, which was eventually given the Arabic name Shatranj.

In Chaturanga the king could be captured. Persian players must have decided that this was no fun because at some point in the 700s the rules of Shatranj were changed so that you couldn't put yourself in check and had to move out of it.

Shatranj had the king, knight and rook equivalents move the way they do to this day; but the pawn, queen and bishop equivalents were much less powerful.

This didn't entirely solve the problem of instantly losing games via a silly mistake though, as any online blitz player will attest. Oh well.

Players also had to announce "shāh" (meaning "king", the origin of the modern "check") when they attacked their opponent's king. And of course they also had to declare "Shāh Māt!" ("the king is dead!"), the origin of the modern checkmate.

Later on they started to engrave half of the squares and the iconic checkerboard came into play.

Shatranj sets are typically more minimalist than Chaturanga sets, likely because of the Muslim ban on idolatry that we mentioned yesterday.

Here's a Chaturanga set (left) compared to a Shatranj set.

Before we continue down the descent of chess, we need to take a look at its cousins.

Chinese chess, xiangqi, is thought to be derived from Chaturanga. There are some niche historical theories that it was the other way around, but these aren't well supported. It has the two properties of a chess-like game that we mentioned before - a "king" and pieces with different moves. Xiangqi doesn't have squares though. Pieces are placed on intersections like in Go.

Shogi, or Japanese chess, is also thought to be derived from Chaturanga and may have been invented in India. Some historians even believe that it was originally played with 3D Chaturanga pieces and not the 2D set that it is today. Shogi has the interesting property of being able to use your opponent's pieces after you capture them, reflected in the western variant of bughouse chess.

One theory is that this rule was added at a time in Japanese history when there were a lot of mercenary fighters switching loyalties.

Makruk, or Thai chess, is another Chaturanga derivative. It's actually much more similar to Chaturanga than Chinese or Japanese chess, and is probably the closest thing to Chaturanga still played today aside from chess itself.

In fact Chaturanga derivatives spread so far east that they reached what is now the USA, as chess-like pieces have been found belonging to the Tlingit people of Alaska.

Back to chess.

Eventually Shatranj was introduced to Europe and became associated with violence, revelry and gambling (I know). The historical cultural impact of chess could be its own blog post.

Eventually chess became more prestigious and associated with knights and royalty, who played with ornate pieces. Christian cultures didn't have the same issues with idolatry at that point in history and began making the sort of elaborate sets we saw yesterday.

At this point the rules hadn't really changed from Shatranj.

There were a couple of early European rule changes though. Pawns were allowed to move two squares on their first move and en passant was added to balance this out. King and queens could jump on their first move (queens were still weak and king jumping eventually became castling).

People also experimented with the idea of setting up the pieces behind the pawns however they wanted, although this never caught on.

Then around 1500 AD the Spanish came along and decided that chess was just too slow. They decided that bishops and queens should have the move ability that they do today.

This was initially called "Mad Queen Chess" or "Chess with the madwoman".

This update spread like wildfire though because clearly everyone found it led to much more action.

Finally in the 1800s the modern rule around stalemate was added, castling was standardised, and all later rule changes like threefold repetition were more technical in nature.

We talked a little bit about the rule changes over history, but some of them are quite interesting so it's worth looking into them in more detail.

Tomorrow: The rules of chess's ancestors.