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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Delight in Misery

- Chapter 10 (ao3) -

tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 (interlude), part 9

In Lan Wangji’s view, the best part about the upcoming visit by Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen wasn’t the excuse to drag a tetchy and reluctant Jiang Cheng night-hunting, nor the chance to meet such interesting and swiftly famous cultivators, or even the vanishingly rare opportunity to learn more about Wei Wuxian by exploring his heritage on his mother’s side.

No – it was definitely the way the mere concept transformed Jiang Cheng into a stuttering teenaged admirer about to see their revered idol for the first time.

“You remember that they are both nearly ten years your junior?” he asked as Jiang Cheng fussed around, alternating between worrying himself sick for not being prepared to receive guests (for all that the Jiang sect had been receiving honored guests for years at this point) and bragging about the exploits of their soon-arriving guests to the fascinated flock of children dogging his heels.

“No more than seven or eight at most,” Jiang Cheng objected, and Lan Wangji rolled his eyes. “Anyway, that’s not the point. Look at how accomplished they both are! When I was that age, I hadn’t done anything!”

Lan Wangji didn’t think that was entirely right. When Jiang Cheng had been the age Xiao Xingcheng and Song Zichen were now, he’d endured the loss of his sect and rebuilt it from nothing, acting more or less singlehandedly while still finding time to fight the Wen sect shoulder-to-shoulder with the other Great Sects and also search for the missing Wei Wuxian with Lan Wangji.

He opted not to mention it.

Let Jiang Cheng keep his illusions and ignore the steady encroachment of time.

“You’re calling me old in your head,” Jiang Cheng said accusingly, and Lan Wangji pasted an innocent expression on his face as confirmation. “You are, you bastard! You know you’re older than me, right?”

Lan Wangji could get a great deal of out of an admission like that.

“That’s not what I meant! We’re peers, you…!” Jiang Cheng huffed. “Listen, you’d better be on your best behavior around our guests, all right? I don’t want them to be scared off just because it looks like you’re glowering whenever you think –”

“I’ll follow your example, then, and simply not think at all.”

“Go jump off a pier!”

The children all giggled.

“You’re all going to be on best behavior too,” Jiang Cheng told them, fierce as a hissing domestic cat and just as adorably toothless. “You hear me? All of you! A-Yuan, A-Ling, that means you’re going to be cute but not spoiled, while A-Yu can – actually, just do the same as them in an age-appropriate way, you’re cute enough –”

Mo Xuanyu beamed.

“Still, we don’t know what they’re like. Start by being a little reserved – not too loud –”

Lan Sizhui waved for attention as if they were in a classroom.

“…yes?” Jiang Cheng asked, looking vaguely resigned and grumpy in a way that was clearly meant to conceal how unbearably charming he found the gesture.

“Can I be called Sizhui this time?” Lan Sizhui asked eagerly. “I’m old enough!”

Jiang Cheng frowned a bit, and Lan Wangji understood. The Jiang sect generally didn’t use courtesy names until the child in question had mastered a full sword routine, usually age eight or nine, and close family almost never made the switch in full; from what Lan Wangji knew, Jiang Yanli had called Jiang Cheng ‘A-Cheng’ right up until the end of her life, not to mention referring routinely to Wei Wuxian, who she’d only met when he was already old enough to use his courtesy name, as ‘A-Xian’. The Lan sect, in contrast, started using courtesy names almost exclusively once a child was old enough to leave his parents, typically age three or four – Lan Wangji had been calling Lan Sizhui by name for years already, and had been needling Jiang Cheng to pick it up as well without success.

“I’ll introduce you,” Lan Wangji offered, saving Jiang Cheng the awkwardness of having to explain or decline or, worst of all for someone like Jiang Cheng, accidentally slip up and say something sappy like you’ll always be A-Yuan to me.

Lan Sizhui nodded, satisfied, and next to him, Jin Ling frowned. “What about me?” he asked. “Am I going to be Rulan?”

“The Jin sect is the last of the Great Sects in using courtesy names,” Jiang Cheng said, finally on more solid ground. “Not until you get your sword, and that’s not until you’re eleven. Or twelve!”

“But I already have a sword…”

“The age you would be if you were getting your own,” Lan Wangji interjected. “To make it fair to all the rest.”

That seemed to reassure Jin Ling, who nodded. “Good,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna be Rulan, anyway…jiujiu, when did you say these guests would be arriving?”

That, of course, sent Jiang Cheng back into a flurry of activity, and Lan Wangji shook his head, long-suffering. “You’ve hosted entire discussion conferences,” he pointed out to Jiang Cheng. “There are only two cultivators this time. It is far easier.”

“Is it?” Jiang Cheng shot back. “Is it really?”

In contrast to the expectation and build up leading up to it, the actual arrival of Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen was rather unremarkable. They arrived just as the sun was setting, two young men, one beautiful and the other handsome, both valiant heroes with faces that shone with kindness and righteousness. Xiao Xingchen’s face was curved in a gentle smile, Song Zichen set in a neutral expression. Both seemed sincere and respectful when they bowed deeply in greeting.

“It’s a pleasure and honor to host such heroes,” Jiang Cheng said, nodding his head regally in return. He really had at some point learned how to fake being a competent and confident sect leader, and it might have even had the effect he was going for if it wasn’t for the small gaggle of children very eagerly stealing peeks from next to him – but Lan Wangji wasn’t going to be the one to tell on them. “I’ve heard many stories of your adventures, and I have long looked forward to meeting you in person. My Lotus Pier is open to you for as long as you require.”

“Sect Leader Jiang is upright and straightforward, well known for his righteousness,” Xiao Xingchen said, and perhaps only Lan Wangji knew precisely why Jiang Cheng flushed with such pleasure at a compliment more commonly applied to Nie Mingjue. “We are happy to be here as your guests.”

Jiang Cheng nodded a second time, still a little stiff and wooden. “You have traveled quite a distance. Are you tired or hungry..?”

They shook their heads in refusal.

Jiang Cheng darted a glance at Lan Wangji, then turned back to them, finally relaxing out of the excess formality that suited Jin Guangshan far more than it did Jian Cheng. “In that case,” he said, his voice a little dry. “Upon the suggestion of certain of my advisors, would you prefer to cut the boring small talk and go out on a night-hunt instead?”

Xiao Xingchen’s face split into a genuine smile, and even Song Zichen’s severity seemed a little eased.

“What an excellent idea, Sect Leader Jiang,” Xiao Xingchen said warmly. “We’d be happy to. I was just telling Song Zichen not long ago that it seemed as though we hadn’t been on a proper hunt in far too long.”

“You think you have problems, try being a sect leader,” Jiang Cheng replied impulsively, then turned red when he realized how rude he’d just been. “That is, I mean – well, there’s not nearly as much free time, that’s all.”

Xiao Xingchen laughed. It gave Lan Wangji a good impression of him: light-hearted and lively, his demeanor kind and good-humored. Despite the lack of blood relation, Lan Wangji was reminded of Wei Wuxian – although perhaps that was just his wistful thinking.

“Well, there’s a reason Zichen and I haven’t started our own just yet,” he said mischievously. “There’s time for that later, after all. Youth is when you make a name for yourself! And speaking of which, I’ve heard plenty about your own prowess, Sandu Shengshou. I admit I’m looking forward to seeing Zidian in action.”

Jiang Cheng looked unbearably pleased at the compliment, clearly sincerely meant, and something in Lan Wangji’s heart that he hadn’t even known was tense finally eased.

He hadn’t realized that he himself was nervous about this meeting – less for his own sake, although he burned with curiosity to learn everything he could about Wei Wuxian, than for Jiang Cheng, who had longed for this meeting so much, cared so much. Lan Wangji found to his bemusement that he had even been a little afraid: afraid that the two strangers would be cold or arrogant, afraid that they’d reject Jiang Cheng tentative overtures of friendship – that Jiang Cheng would be disappointed.

Lan Wangji might enjoy teasing Jiang Cheng into a frenzy, but that was his prerogative. In fact, one could argue that it was only what he was due for having lived with and put up with the man for so long. He’d been the one who’d been there all this time, the one who’d put in so much effort to help rebuild him back into the man he could be rather than the wreck he had been; he’d earned the right to mock him.

No one else was entitled to so much as touch the hem of his robes.

“I have heard much of your matchless skill as well, Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said, his voice unexpectedly deep, and Lan Wangji’s attention came back to him as he returned the man’s salute. They both had reputations for being closed-mouthed ice-blocks, and it seemed to Lan Wangji that Song Zichen was probably just reserved, like him, rather than truly standoffish.

“You’re in for a treat, then,” Jiang Cheng said with a faint smirk. “Whether in sword or music, few can match Hanguang-jun’s talents, and he never stints on displaying them.”

To the untried ear, perhaps Jiang Cheng sounded bitter or jealous, and given his competitive mania he probably was, a little, but to Lan Wangji he sounded more smug than anything else, as proud as if he were the one being praised.

With everything settled, they headed off at once.

The subject of the night-hunt was nothing terribly exciting – a troop of fierce corpses ravaging the countryside that someone had finally managed to divine the location of, with the only interesting aspect about them being that they were unusually fast-moving – so there was plenty of time for them to talk as they followed the trail.

Lan Wangji expected Jiang Cheng to start asking questions about the immortal mountain and Wei Wuxian’s mother at once – Jiang Cheng might be prideful and thin-faced, prone to shame and overthinking, but he’d been raised along Wei Wuxian, who was second to none in shamelessness, and Lan Wangji was well aware of how much he hungered for that knowledge.

Of course, probably as a direct result of Lan Wangji’s expectations, Jiang Cheng went for a completely different target.

“It’s said that we live in an age of young heroes,” he remarked, seemingly casual. “Of course, for most of us, that was simply the inevitable result of war – crisis demands the best from people, regardless of age. Without such necessity to spur us onwards, most of us probably would’ve been still kicking our heels even now, whereas you two became heroes as soon as you arrived…how old are you now, again?”

“We are both twenty-one,” Song Zichen said, and Lan Wangji used the moment to glare over at Jiang Cheng when he mouthed six years at him – was this really the time to quibble over something as pointless as the exact age gap between them, which he’d clearly inquired about for no other purpose than to prove Lan Wangji’s earlier assumption wrong? This was Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle here! They should be getting all the information out of him that they could!

(Lan Wangji had long ago decided that when it came to feuding over minor matters with Jiang Cheng, he would be as gracious in defeat as his opponent…which was to say, not at all.)

Jiang Cheng smirked at him, knowing what he was thinking, but then – finally – turned the subject onto the immortal mountain, or more specifically its former disciples.

This time it was Song Zichen’s turn to relax minutely, Lan Wangji noticed. A moment’s thought revealed the reason: they’d probably feared cultivators asking questions that were far more pointed than what they were getting from them – cultivators greedy for the secrets of immortality. No wonder they so assiduously avoided being hosted by the Great Sects, and had done so even before Lanling Jin had gotten in the way of their heroism.

Well, luckily for them, the interest Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji had was a little more…down to earth.

“Cangse Sanren was a talent to shake the ages,” Xiao Xingchen said, his eyes bright and expression enthusiastic. “It was as if anything she turned her mind to, she excelled at, and she turned her mind to all sorts of things without discrimination – painting, poetry, swordsmanship…” He paused, then firmed his shoulders. “I heard that her son was much the same..?”

Lan Wangji felt a smile want to come up to his lips.

It seemed that Xiao Xingchen was just as interested in finding out more about his martial nephew as they were in finding out more about Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle.

Jiang Cheng glanced over at Lan Wangji, who nodded very shallowly, indicating his approval. In his judgment, both of them seemed safe enough: trustworthy, and not like people who would spread gossip.

They could talk about Wei Wuxian.

Talk truly about him, praising his good points and speaking fondly of his faults…these two, Lan Wangji thought, wouldn’t judge them harshly for failing to condemn him, and they wouldn’t tell anyone else, either.

Later, after they’d finished dispatching the ghouls – and the Wei Wuxian portion of the conversation, for which Jiang Cheng had taken the lead and which a listening Lan Wangji had enjoyed tremendously, largely on account of Xiao Xingchen’s genuine enthusiasm for learning everything he could about the martial nephew he had only just barely missed meeting, fearsome Yiling Patriarch or not – Jiang Cheng finally and regretfully brought them back to the original subject.

“I heard that you two are collecting allies to go after Xue Yang,” he said, and pretended (just as Lan Wangji did) to ignore the way Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen suddenly glanced at each other. “I’ll support that, of course. From everything I’ve heard, he’s become a mad dog, trying to bite anyone he sees. Hasn’t he been launching all sorts of raids on sects left and right these past few years?”

They nodded.

“Rather pointless ones,” Song Zichen said, a deep frown on his face. “He runs in and causes chaos, then flees into the night – he barely even stops to kill people, and almost never steals treasures. At most he goes to make trouble by defacing the walls of some of the ancestral tombs…we can see no sense in it. The only explanation is that his demonic cultivation has in fact driven him mad.”

Demonic cultivation didn’t necessarily drive a person mad. That was something Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng had painfully learned over the years, much to Jiang Cheng’s distress. However, it certainly didn’t help maintain calmness or peace of mind; there was every chance that a delinquent like Xue Yang had had his temperament worsened by demonic cultivation, leading to his present circumstances.

“Indeed,” Jiang Cheng said noncommittally. “I really have only question for you, then.”

Knowing where this was going, Lan Wangji turned his gaze on their guests’ expression.

“Haven’t you been chasing him on your own for all these years now, trying to get him to go to trial for his crimes, refusing any offers of help?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice suddenly pointed. “Why the sudden change in favor of asking for help now?”

Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen shared another long look between them.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen cleared his throat. “In truth,” he said, “we spread that rumor as a smokescreen. We’re not looking for allies, generally speaking…we really only wanted a reason to ask for your help.”

Jiang Cheng stopped and stared, visibly surprised. Lan Wangji kept his expression more neutral, but privately he was just as taken aback; when they’d discussed this earlier, planning out this conversation in advance, that wasn’t even remotely one of the possibilities they’d considered.

“My help?” Jiang Cheng asked cautiously. “Or…?”

“Yours and Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said. “We weren’t sure who else to turn to.”

“What’s the issue?” Jiang Cheng asked, waving a hand to halt their forward progress. A good idea, in Lan Wangji’s view: it was the middle of the night, and they were in the middle of the forest in the back hills near the Lotus Pier, with no one around for a good distance except for trusted Jiang sect disciples – if there needed to be privacy for this discussion, this was the best place for it.

Another shared glance.

Lan Wangji slanted a glance of his own to Jiang Cheng, who returned it: they’d been right, there really was something unusual with this visit.

They stood in silence for a while.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen yielded. “Very well,” he said, and met Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “Sect Leader Jiang…can you tell us what you know about the Ghost General?”

Jiang Cheng stiffened, his fists clenching.

Lan Wangji’s heart felt just as stiff. He stepped forward.

“There are many people who can tell you about Wen Ning,” he said neutrally, watching them carefully. “Assuming that what you wish to know is how he fought or his transformation into a conscious fierce corpse. Is your concern that Xue Yang has replicated the technique and created his own ghost general?”

He didn’t think it would be that. As he’d said, everyone knew what Wen Ning had done once he’d become the Ghost General – the Jin sect would know far better than either of them how fearsome he was, since it was at Jinlin Tower that he had erupted in his final massacre. If they wanted to know about fierce corpses in general, they could go there.

To come here, to Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji – the only two people who were known to have gone up to the Yiling Burial Mounds while Wei Wuxian lived there with Wen Ning at his side, the only living people who knew what the Ghost General was like when he wasn’t being a weapon, to know what Wen Ning was like as a person – suggested something different.

Something impossible.

Xiao Xingchen met his eyes. “It is not.”

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice tight and unsteady. “He murdered my brother-in-law, my nephew’s father, and when Lanling Jin demanded his head as retribution, he and his sister went to them under pretense of surrender and murdered even more of them before they were taken down. He was destroyed.”

They said nothing.

“The former Sect Leader Jin was very interested in demonic cultivation,” Lan Wangji said slowly. “While Wei Wuxian lived, he sought to claim the Stygian Tiger Seal. When he died…”

He glanced at Jiang Cheng a second time. They had not discussed the subject of the Siege of the Burial Mounds in any detail, as it inevitably put Jiang Cheng into a terrible frame of mind, and Lan Wangji remembered with a shudder the state they had both been in at that fateful meeting – he didn’t want to remember it himself, much less bring back bad memories for Jiang Cheng.

They certainly hadn’t discussed the subject of spoils. The only thing that had ever brought it to mind was the silent presence of Chenqing lying in place of pride in the Jiang sect’s memorial hall as the substitute for the memorial tablet they could not afford to raise for Wei Wuxian.

It hadn’t seemed relevant.

It was now.

“Sect Leader Jin took it,” Jiang Cheng confirmed, his voice shaking a little. “The Stygian Tiger Seal was broken in two, and Wei Wuxian destroyed one of the halves – the Jin sect claimed the other, saying that they were going to destroy it. I think they took more than that, too…I know they took Suibian, but they also took all the papers that’d been left in the cave. I always suspected that that was why they were so protective of Xue Yang, who was a demonic cultivator himself – that Jin Guangshan wanted to squeeze him for information, or maybe even use him to figure out some of Wei Wuxian’s notes…”

His voice trailed off, and he shook his head furiously.

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” he insisted. “The Jin sect scattered his ashes! They – they…”

“They lied,” Song Zichen said.

Lan Wangji pressed his lips together. He had no particularly warm feelings towards Wen Ning, who had been Wei Wuxian’s shadow in that last year or so of life when Wei Wuxian had turned his back on the world – a position Lan Wangji would have given his left arm to have, and over which he had had all sorts of inappropriate feelings of envy and stifled, unjustified possessiveness – but Jiang Cheng took the man’s existence far more personally.

In Jiang Cheng’s view, it had been for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had stolen the Wen sect remnants, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had abjured his relationship with the Jiang sect and Jiang Cheng himself, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had given up everything, and yet simultaneously it had also been Wen Ning that had pushed him to the very brink and over. Wen Ning who had murdered Jin Zixuan – Wen Ning who Wei Wuxian had so brutally avenged in the massacre at the Nightless City, at which Jiang Yanli had died.

Wen Ning, who they thought had been destroyed.

“We believe that the former Sect Leader Jin hid Wen Ning away instead of destroying him, then gave Xue Yang access to him, just as he did with the Tiger Seal and Wei Wuxian’s notes,” Xiao Xingchen said, his face solemn. “We also believe that Xue Yang took Wen Ning away with him when he escaped Jinlin Tower once the former sect leader died and the current sect leader took over. We believe that he has been controlling him through demonic cultivation, using him as something of an – accomplice, or something of the sort.”

“Controlling him how?” Jiang Cheng asked. They paused, and he continued, “I’m not stupid. You’re very sure that Wen Ning’s not gone, which means you located him and saw something that made you think so. What was it?”

Lan Wangji nodded shallowly, approving of Jiang Cheng’s deduction – and of the self-mastery he was demonstrating in not exploding in rage on the spot.

“He had nails in his head,” Xiao Xingchen said. “He…the Ghost General was mindless and unthinking, but strong. Very strong. He…”

He trailed off, and shook his head, seeming a bit sad.

“What help do you require from us?” Lan Wangji said, suddenly sick of the tension, and he saw Jiang Cheng throw him a look full of relief for having raised the question.

“Hanguang-jun is right,” Jiang Cheng said, backing him up at once. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you need us for? You two are heroes, and half the cultivation world would sell their firstborn child for a chance to bring down the Ghost General to increase their fame – there’s no way you came here just to get our help in bringing him down. If that’s what you wanted, it wouldn’t have needed to be us, and there wouldn’t have needed to be a smokescreen. What do you want?”

“We want to heal him,” Xiao Xingchen said solemnly. “To bring back his consciousness and return his sanity. But we don’t know what he was like, before Xue Yang. The only ones that do are the two of you.”

“You do remember that he killed my brother-in-law?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice sharp.

“At Wei Wuxian’s order,” Song Zichen responded, equally sharp. “You do not blame the sword for the men it kills.”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes briefly, in pain at the reminder. He took a breath, steadying himself, and then another.

He opened his eyes.

“We will help,” he said, and ignored the betrayed look Jiang Cheng shot his way. They would talk about it later, and he would help Jiang Cheng see that this was what they had to do, no matter how painful. “And we will not betray the secret of his existence.”

“Thank you,” Xiao Xingchen said, and saluted deeply; Song Zichen did as well. “And yet, we have more we would ask of you.”

“Spit it out, then,” Jiang Cheng growled.

“Finding Wen Ning had shown us that Xue Yang’s actions have gone truly beyond the pale, beyond redemption,” Song Zichen said, and his voice was fierce. That wasn’t surprising: it had been his childhood home, his master and fellow disciples, that Xue Yang had attacked. “He is, as you said, a mad dog, biting all that he can – I believe that Wen Ning was his only companion as he fled, chased by the whole cultivation world these past few years. I fear what Xue Yang will do now that his last connection to humanity is gone. He is capable of anything.”

“We must find him,” Xiao Xingchen agreed. “We must find Xue Yang, and we must stop him from doing – whatever it is that he will do next. I cannot even begin to imagine the atrocities he might perpetrate. And so we must ask…”

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng said, and they both looked at him, surprised. “We’ll help you heal Wen Ning, and we’ll even help you hunt down Xue Yang. But this time, no excuses, no dragging your feet, no waiting for a proper trial, nothing like that. He dies, you hear me? Xue Yang is to be killed on sight!”

“I agree,” Lan Wangji said, folding his hands together behind his back. He had helped Jiang Cheng in pursuing and judging demonic cultivators before – there were those that could be granted mercy, and those for whom the only just answer was death; time and too many second chances had made inescapably clear that Xue Yang was the latter. “Each time you have sought to bring him to trial, he has taken advantage of your devotion to justice to escape.”

Xiao Xingchen looked at Song Zichen, who nodded firmly; a moment later, Xiao Xingchen sighed and nodded himself. “Agreed,” he said. “You will help us?”

“We will,” Jiang Cheng said grimly, and Lan Wangji nodded in full support. “It would be a pleasure to wipe that trash off the face of this earth.”

The town was full of mist and fog, choking the throat and making it hard to breathe or see; the feng shui of the entire valley was as bad as could be, and there was more miasma than there was air.

“You there, drunkard, what are you doing!” someone shouted at a figure lying halfway in the door of a house that was filled to the brim with coffins. “Don’t mock our livelihood! Just because it’s a coffin house doesn’t make it a good place to play dead!”

The figure stirred.

But I’m not playing dead, he thought, rubbing his aching head with one hand, noticing that he seemed to be missing his little finger. I actually was dead, wasn’t I?

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes.

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #xiao xingchen #song lan #my fic #my fics #delight in misery

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cucumbers-and-olives · 3 years

Text

When All Is Said And Done

⚠️stop! have you read part one, the winner takes it all yet? if not, click the link and read it cause idk if this will make much sense!

Summary: You slowly repair you relationship with Reggie as you get closer to the end of the show.

Category: high school au, musical au?

Fandom: JATP

Paring: Reggie x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings/Includes: mentions of cheating

A/N: this is for @reggiepetersappreciationweek day 5? whatever yesterday was, i have a trash memory, and i forgot to post this so... whoops!

(also @williexmercer asked to be tagged in this so.... ta da?)

Mandatory Thanking of the Betas: ahhhh ty so so much @wrhen for helping me give this story the ending it deserved, i had no idea how to end it, so thank you!

AO3 link here (nope)

Please don’t repost my work without my permission, in part or whole. My work can also be found on AO3 under the same username. Thank you!

Here's to us

One more toast

And then we'll pay the bill

Closing night was always a sad thing. But after the last three months, all of the drama, and the nightmares… You could tell that the smile on Reggie’s face was his, and he was happy. Truly happy.

Deep inside

Both of us

Can feel the autumn chill

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’ll be better. I want to explain, so I’ll be at our spot at 7 pm tomorrow.” You listened to his voicemail over and over, trying to decide if you should trust him this time. You got one of these voicemails every week on Monday. It had been a month since “the incident” and he wasn’t giving up.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’ll be-” You tossed your phone at the wall as hard as possible, but with your bad luck it landed on the soft white sheets of your bed and you let out a scream. It was loud and heart-wrenching, and you collapsed into the shag carpet. The soft blue carpet he had bought for you when you found out you had landed the role.

And from your spot on the floor, there was the photo of the two of you that you had framed after your second date. When you knew he was the one. He had taken you to the fair, and one of his friends had come over to take a photo of the two of you, but someone had bumped into him, and there was a ton of bright pink cotton candy in his hair. That was your favorite moment with him.

You rolled over, and like a bad omen, your phone played the voicemail again. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I’ll be better. I want to explain, so I’ll be at our spot at 7 pm tomorrow.” You had crawled onto your bed to turn it off when you heard him whisper something he hadn’t in any of the other voicemails. “I love you.”

As you lay down to sleep that night, your brain looped his words. I love you, I love you, I love you. I. Love. You.

He hadn’t ever said it before.

Birds of passage

You and me

We fly instinctively

The cast all had slight tears in their eyes. Most of them were seniors, including you and Reggie, so this was your last show at a school you had grown to love.

When the summer's over

And the dark clouds hide the sun

Neither you nor I'm to blame

“Y/N and Reggie.” Your science teacher moved on and continued calling out other pairs to work together.

He moved to where you were sitting. It seemed as if his personality had changed. He was no longer the confident, happy boy you knew, but a shy, quiet one. “I- I can ask for a different partner. You probably don’t, don’t want to work with me.” His eyes were transfixed on the desk.

You don’t know what led you to do this, but you slipped a finger under his chin and tilted his face to look at you. “We have 5 minutes left in this period, and then we have rehearsal. You have that long to come up with a convincing argument as to why I should trust you, go it?”

He nodded softly, and you released his face. Now you had that long to figure out if you should trust him again.

As the bell rang you began to pack up your stuff when a note fell out of your bag. You picked it up and began to read it.

“Y/N. I kissed him. I’m not trying to cover for him, it’s the honest truth.” You looked up at your teacher.

“Y/L/N, get to rehearsal, or at least get out of my classroom.”

“Yeah, sorry!” You said, hurrying out of her classroom. You stepped into the hall, and you continued to read the note.

“I know it sounds like I’m covering for him. I’m not. I came into his dressing room, I kissed him. (I’ll spare you the details) But you two are an amazing couple, and he’s been a mess without you. There’s a hole in his heart that only you can fix.”

And just like the “I love you,” those last words rang in your head through rehearsal.

“There’s a hole in his heart that only you can fix.”

When all is said and done

In our lives

We have walked

Some strange and lonely treks

He crossed the stage and looked back at you. The strength it would take the entire cast to not laugh like children would be incredible.

Slightly worn

But dignified

And not too old for sex

We're still striving for the sky

No taste for humble pie

“Thank you.” He said, passing you a coke. “The pie will be out in a second.”

The booth in the back of the diner was a quiet one, but there were so many memories here. Your first date, your first kiss, Reggie asking you to be his girlfriend, and getting cast as Donna and Sam. You had found out sitting in this booth.

The waitress came over. “Two slices of apple pie, enjoy you two,” She said, with a little wink.

You took a fork and stabbed the pie like an enemy. “Talk.”

“I didn’t mean to. She came in, and she started it, I-” You shoved some pie in his mouth. His face was alarmed for a second, and then he smiled.

“Not about that, idiot, about the project. We have to present tomorrow.” You took a bite of your pie.

“I thought…” He was lost in thought for a moment and then he spoke. “I was thinking we could alternate slides? Or if you just want to do the chunks you wrote, that’s cool too!” He said, eating some more of his pie.

“That sounds good, we can alternate slides. Also, could you help me with my math homework? I’m- well, I’ve got a D. Can you help me? I brought it with me if you want to now, I have it with me, or we can do it later?” You rambled off.

“Scooch over,” He said, standing up. As you did, he sat down next to you. “Okay, pull it out, and show me what you’re struggling with. We’re not leaving till you have it down.”

He smiled at you, and you knew you were back to normal now. Or at least, a new normal.

Thanks for all your generous love

And thanks for all the fun

Neither you nor I'm to blame

As he sang that line, you both glanced into the audience where your former-best-friend-now-acquaintance sat. Your relationship had healed over the last month. He and you were clearer, and when/if anything happened, you both gave each other a chance to explain your side of the story. It was better now.

When all is said and done

It's so strange

When you're down

And lying on the floor

“Okay look up when you open your eyes,” He said, removing his hands from your face. You looked out at the beautiful rolling hills and then up. Up to the sky, and the shining stars. You gasped as you saw them, each one more beautiful than the last.

“Woah, Reggie this is so beautiful, I-” You turned around to face him. He had a picnic all laid out. There was a full apple pie and ice cream, along with a bunch of your favorite sweets and some popcorn and pretzels.

“Reggie, when did you have the time for this? It’s almost tech week,” You said as you sat down next to him. “Not that I’m ungrateful but seriously, when did you-” He cut you off as he stuck a bit of pie in your mouth.

“Did you?” He nodded. “You bought a full pie from the diner?” You smiled at him so big. And it was a wonderful night.

How you rise

Shake your head

Get up and ask for more

Clear-headed and open-eyed

With nothing left untried

Standing calmly at the crossroads

No desire to run

“I’m scared Alex.” It was Reggie’s voice you heard as you walked up to the garage. Over the past 2 and a half months, your relationship had changed, and now, it was the Saturday before tech week.

You froze outside the garage as you listened to Reggie.

“I- I, I messed it all up before, and I keep feeling like I’m gonna mess up again,” Reggie said. His voice was shaking if it was even possible for a voice to do that.

“Reg,” Alex said. “What happened wasn’t your fault. They came in and kissed you.”

“I should’ve stopped it. I should have stopped them.”

“Reggie, she forgave you. And trust me, Y/N wouldn’t be with you if she thought you had done it on purpose.”

You knocked on the garage door. “Reg, you in there? We’re gonna be late to rehearsal!”

“Yeah- yeah, I’m coming, I’ll meet you in the car babe!” He hollered back.

There's no hurry anymore

When all is said and done

Then he did something unexpected. Something unscripted. You just felt him pulling you in and dipping you down, and for a moment in one amazing kiss, the audience wasn’t there.

You pulled away, smiling and breathless as the audience cheered.

Send me an ask or fill out this form to be added to my tag list! Send me an ask to be removed from my tag list!

JATP Tag list: @screwunsaidemily @crybabyddl @n0wornever @crybabyddl @dream-a-little-bigger-x @crybabyddl @badwolf00593

Reggie Tag list: @willex-owns-my-heart

Everything: @funsizearsonist

#reggieappweek #more tags coming soon (im slow okay)#reggie x reader #reggie peters #jatp #julie and the phantoms #fanfic #reggie fanfic

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mayakern · 4 years

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hi maya! i've been following you for years and you've been a big inspiration to me! i'm moving back to my home state in 9 months and when that happens i want to be a full time artist. i've started emailing art directors and opened up commissions, but generally i can't get people to engage with my work. i'm coming to you because i've seen you try so many things throughout the years. if you have any insight, or if i need a reality check, it would be greatly appreciated! thanks for reading!

i don’t know you and i don’t know your situation so i can’t give you any specific advice, so i’ll try and just type out some general “i wanna do art online” tips:

1. make your art easy to find. whether that’s a separate art blog or a prominently displayed art tag, just make sure people can find it within 1-2 clicks!

2. keep practicing, keep doing things you enjoy, keep posting. online following is a snowball. it goes painfully slowly for ages and ages and ages. once it starts to pick up, the rate tends to increase exponentially. there’s also a lot of luck involved. it’s hard to predict what will or won’t resonate with people, so just try to make sure that you genuinely enjoy whatever you make.

3. if you approach working professionals/people you admire for help, demonstrate off the bat that you are familiar with them/their work and keep your email/message brief and be polite. well known/popular artists get a lot of cold emails/messages from all sorts of people, and most frequently from people who just see a follower count or a popular post or something and cold email them without any care or specificity to them as a creator. these sorts of emails usually get dismissed out of hand.

if you are looking to someone for help, be sure there is something specific about them that resonates with you that’s more than just “i see you are popular or successful and i also want that.” no one really likes getting those emails/messages because it feels like they could go to anyone as long as they had a high enough follower count or worked at X company. instead, look at their work or accomplishments and go “this aspect of this person’s work speaks to me, they work this job that interests me, i want to learn, etc.”

AND AGAIN: KEEP IT BRIEF. it’s really tempting to want to perfectly explain yourself/your situation, but you are a stranger and most people working in art are pretty busy, and you are not the only person sending them this kind of inquiry.

for art director stuff specifically, i recommend reading through @dearartdirector. i’m not an art director so i can’t help with that.

4. remember that online following/popularity and success are NOT the same things. i know plenty of popular artists who struggle financially, who can’t break into the industry. i know tons of working professionals who have very small online followings. i know in this hyper connected world, it is very easy to conflate those two things. DON’T DO THAT.

5. similarly, it is very easy to compare yourself to other people and to feel inadequate because others seem to have an easier time of it. this is a horrible illogical thing your brain does to spite you, don’t listen to it. you don’t know other people or their stories. you don’t know their struggles. lots of people work very hard and experience hardships that you will never be aware of, but it will seem externally like they have an easy time of it. it’s the old duck in the pond thing -- above the water they look serene and easy, underwater their flippers are going crazy to churn water.

6. it is okay to fail. everyone fails. it is not shameful or a waste of your time. it is just part of being alive and trying to do something you love.

7. similar to 6 -- be careful with your notions of what failure even means. it’s ok to not work in art, it’s ok to work part time, it’s ok to do whatever you need to do (that doesn’t hurt others) in order to find your way to a happy and sustainable life. similarly, being able to make money off your art is not necessarily a question of skill. there are... a lot of factors. you should not tie your worth to money in general, but you especially should not tie your value to your ability to monetize your art.

8. this is going to be an unpopular one... do not let your passion or desperation control you. sometimes the healthier thing is to not pursue something you love. i had to give up comics after years of making them because even though i loved them, they were terrible for my mental and physical health. it’s ok to love something and let it go and it’s ok to let your goals change. it is not worth ruining your health just for the privilege of making things.

there are a lot of exploitative companies that will try to leverage this to make you take work for terrible pay and no rights. those jobs are never worth it. it is almost always better to do a non-art job and pour that time and love and passion into a project you care about, rather than being someone else’s cheap labor.

9. make friends who are around your age and skill level. i know it’s tempting to want to reach out to artists you admire and try to befriend them -- but it is not comfortable on the other end. usually those artists will be significantly older than you and in a different place in their lives and from their perspective, you are a stranger who is only interested in them because they make a thing you like. it’s a very awkward situation to navigate because you are not treating that creator as an individual, but rather as the conduit for Content You Like.

it is important to find peers to learn and grow with. real, genuine friendship will do so much for you as a person and an artist.

also -- older creators who are very receptive to young, untried artists and who easily let them into their space on the pretense of friendship or mentorship... i won’t say this is always a bad thing, but it can be indicative of bad intentions. there is an inherent power imbalance in that sort of relationship and there are people who will exploit that. this is a painfully common practice

this is a sour note to end this on, but it is a very important one. recently we have seen many industry pros in comics, games, and animation get ousted for exactly that sort of behavior. it sucks that it is a thing we need to look out for -- but it is.

#ask #long post #art tips #faq #xollos

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araitsume · 4 years

Text

The Desire of Ages, pp. 698-715: Chapter (75) Before Annas and the Court of Caiaphas

This chapter is based on Matthew 26:57-75; Matthew 27:1; Mark 14:53-72; Mark 15:1; Luke 22:54-71; John 18:13-27.

Over the brook Kedron, past gardens and olive groves, and through the hushed streets of the sleeping city, they hurried Jesus. It was past midnight, and the cries of the hooting mob that followed Him broke sharply upon the still air. The Saviour was bound and closely guarded, and He moved painfully. But in eager haste His captors made their way with Him to the palace of Annas, the ex-high priest.

Annas was the head of the officiating priestly family, and in deference to his age he was recognized by the people as high priest. His counsel was sought and carried out as the voice of God. He must first see Jesus a captive to priestly power. He must be present at the examination of the prisoner, for fear that the less-experienced Caiaphas might fail of securing the object for which they were working. His artifice, cunning, and subtlety must be used on this occasion; for, at all events, Christ's condemnation must be secured.

Christ was to be tried formally before the Sanhedrin; but before Annas He was subjected to a preliminary trial. Under the Roman rule the Sanhedrin could not execute the sentence of death. They could only examine a prisoner, and pass judgment, to be ratified by the Roman authorities. It was therefore necessary to bring against Christ charges that would be regarded as criminal by the Romans. An accusation must also be found which would condemn Him in the eyes of the Jews. Not a few among the priests and rulers had been convicted by Christ's teaching, and only fear of excommunication prevented them from confessing Him. The priests well remembered the question of Nicodemus, “Doth our law judge any man, before it hear him, and know what he doeth?” John 7:51. This question had for the time broken up the council, and thwarted their plans. Joseph of Arimathaea and Nicodemus were not now to be summoned, but there were others who might dare to speak in favor of justice. The trial must be so conducted as to unite the members of the Sanhedrin against Christ. There were two charges which the priests desired to maintain. If Jesus could be proved a blasphemer, He would be condemned by the Jews. If convicted of sedition, it would secure His condemnation by the Romans. The second charge Annas tried first to establish. He questioned Jesus concerning His disciples and His doctrines, hoping the prisoner would say something that would give him material upon which to work. He thought to draw out some statement to prove that He was seeking to establish a secret society, with the purpose of setting up a new kingdom. Then the priests could deliver Him to the Romans as a disturber of the peace and a creator of insurrection.

Christ read the priest's purpose as an open book. As if reading the inmost soul of His questioner, He denied that there was between Him and His followers any secret bond of union, or that He gathered them secretly and in the darkness to conceal His designs. He had no secrets in regard to His purposes or doctrines. “I spake openly to the world,” He answered; “I ever taught in the synagogue, and in the temple, whither the Jews always resort; and in secret have I said nothing.”

The Saviour contrasted His own manner of work with the methods of His accusers. For months they had hunted Him, striving to entrap Him and bring Him before a secret tribunal, where they might obtain by perjury what it was impossible to gain by fair means. Now they were carrying out their purpose. The midnight seizure by a mob, the mockery and abuse before He was condemned, or even accused, was their manner of work, not His. Their action was in violation of the law. Their own rules declared that every man should be treated as innocent until proved guilty. By their own rules the priests stood condemned.

Turning upon His questioner, Jesus said, “Why askest thou Me?” Had not the priests and rulers sent spies to watch His movements, and report His every word? Had not these been present at every gathering of the people, and carried to the priests information of all His sayings and doings? “Ask them which heard Me, what I have said unto them,” replied Jesus; “behold, they know what I said.”

Annas was silenced by the decision of the answer. Fearing that Christ would say something regarding his course of action that he would prefer to keep covered up, he said nothing more to Him at this time. One of his officers, filled with wrath as he saw Annas silenced, struck Jesus on the face, saying, “Answerest Thou the high priest so?”

Christ calmly replied, “If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil: but if well, why smitest thou Me?” He spoke no burning words of retaliation. His calm answer came from a heart sinless, patient, and gentle, that would not be provoked.

Christ suffered keenly under abuse and insult. At the hands of the beings whom He had created, and for whom He was making an infinite sacrifice, He received every indignity. And He suffered in proportion to the perfection of His holiness and His hatred of sin. His trial by men who acted as fiends was to Him a perpetual sacrifice. To be surrounded by human beings under the control of Satan was revolting to Him. And He knew that in a moment, by the flashing forth of His divine power, He could lay His cruel tormentors in the dust. This made the trial the harder to bear.

The Jews were looking for a Messiah to be revealed in outward show. They expected Him, by one flash of overmastering will, to change the current of men's thoughts, and force from them an acknowledgment of His supremacy. Thus, they believed, He was to secure His own exaltation, and gratify their ambitious hopes. Thus when Christ was treated with contempt, there came to Him a strong temptation to manifest His divine character. By a word, by a look, He could compel His persecutors to confess that He was Lord above kings and rulers, priests and temple. But it was His difficult task to keep to the position He had chosen as one with humanity.

The angels of heaven witnessed every movement made against their loved Commander. They longed to deliver Christ. Under God the angels are all-powerful. On one occasion, in obedience to the command of Christ, they slew of the Assyrian army in one night one hundred and eighty-five thousand men. How easily could the angels, beholding the shameful scene of the trial of Christ, have testified their indignation by consuming the adversaries of God! But they were not commanded to do this. He who could have doomed His enemies to death bore with their cruelty. His love for His Father, and His pledge, made from the foundation of the world, to become the Sin Bearer, led Him to endure uncomplainingly the coarse treatment of those He came to save. It was a part of His mission to bear, in His humanity, all the taunts and abuse that men could heap upon Him. The only hope of humanity was in this submission of Christ to all that He could endure from the hands and hearts of men.

Christ had said nothing that could give His accusers an advantage; yet He was bound, to signify that He was condemned. There must, however, be a pretense of justice. It was necessary that there should be the form of a legal trial. This the authorities were determined to hasten. They knew the regard in which Jesus was held by the people, and feared that if the arrest were noised abroad, a rescue would be attempted. Again, if the trial and execution were not brought about at once, there would be a week's delay on account of the celebration of the Passover. This might defeat their plans. In securing the condemnation of Jesus they depended largely upon the clamor of the mob, many of them the rabble of Jerusalem. Should there be a week's delay, the excitement would abate, and a reaction would be likely to set in. The better part of the people would be aroused in Christ's favor; many would come forward with testimony in His vindication, bringing to light the mighty works He had done. This would excite popular indignation against the Sanhedrin. Their proceedings would be condemned, and Jesus would be set free, to receive new homage from the multitudes. The priests and rulers therefore determined that before their purpose could become known, Jesus should be delivered into the hands of the Romans.

But first of all, an accusation was to be found. They had gained nothing as yet. Annas ordered Jesus to be taken to Caiaphas. Caiaphas belonged to the Sadducees, some of whom were now the most desperate enemies of Jesus. He himself, though wanting in force of character, was fully as severe, heartless, and unscrupulous as was Annas. He would leave no means untried to destroy Jesus. It was now early morning, and very dark; by the light of torches and lanterns the armed band with their prisoner proceeded to the high priest's palace. Here, while the members of the Sanhedrin were coming together, Annas and Caiaphas again questioned Jesus, but without success.

When the council had assembled in the judgment hall, Caiaphas took his seat as presiding officer. On either side were the judges, and those specially interested in the trial. The Roman soldiers were stationed on the platform below the throne. At the foot of the throne stood Jesus. Upon Him the gaze of the whole multitude was fixed. The excitement was intense. Of all the throng He alone was calm and serene. The very atmosphere surrounding Him seemed pervaded by a holy influence.

Caiaphas had regarded Jesus as his rival. The eagerness of the people to hear the Saviour, and their apparent readiness to accept His teachings, had aroused the bitter jealousy of the high priest. But as Caiaphas now looked upon the prisoner, he was struck with admiration for His noble and dignified bearing. A conviction came over him that this Man was akin to God. The next instant he scornfully banished the thought. Immediately his voice was heard in sneering, haughty tones demanding that Jesus work one of His mighty miracles before them. But his words fell upon the Saviour's ears as though He heard them not. The people compared the excited and malignant deportment of Annas and Caiaphas with the calm, majestic bearing of Jesus. Even in the minds of that hardened multitude arose the question, Is this man of godlike presence to be condemned as a criminal?

Caiaphas, perceiving the influence that was obtaining, hastened the trial. The enemies of Jesus were in great perplexity. They were bent on securing His condemnation, but how to accomplish this they knew not. The members of the council were divided between the Pharisees and the Sadducees. There was bitter animosity and controversy between them; certain disputed points they dared not approach for fear of a quarrel. With a few words Jesus could have excited their prejudices against each other, and thus have averted their wrath from Himself. Caiaphas knew this, and he wished to avoid stirring up a contention. There were plenty of witnesses to prove that Christ had denounced the priests and scribes, that He had called them hypocrites and murderers; but this testimony it was not expedient to bring forward. The Sadducees in their sharp contentions with the Pharisees had used to them similar language. And such testimony would have no weight with the Romans, who were themselves disgusted with the pretensions of the Pharisees. There was abundant evidence that Jesus had disregarded the traditions of the Jews, and had spoken irreverently of many of their ordinances; but in regard to tradition the Pharisees and Sadducees were at swords’ points; and this evidence also would have no weight with the Romans. Christ's enemies dared not accuse Him of Sabbathbreaking, lest an examination should reveal the character of His work. If His miracles of healing were brought to light, the very object of the priests would be defeated.

False witnesses had been bribed to accuse Jesus of inciting rebellion and seeking to establish a separate government. But their testimony proved to be vague and contradictory. Under examination they falsified their own statements.

Early in His ministry Christ had said, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” In the figurative language of prophecy, He had thus foretold His own death and resurrection. “He spake of the temple of His body.” John 2:19, 21. These words the Jews had understood in a literal sense, as referring to the temple at Jerusalem. Of all that Christ had said, the priests could find nothing to use against Him save this. By misstating these words they hoped to gain an advantage. The Romans had engaged in rebuilding and embellishing the temple, and they took great pride in it; any contempt shown to it would be sure to excite their indignation. Here Romans and Jews, Pharisees and Sadducees, could meet; for all held the temple in great veneration. On this point two witnesses were found whose testimony was not so contradictory as that of the others had been. One of them, who had been bribed to accuse Jesus, declared, “This fellow said, I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three days.” Thus Christ's words were misstated. If they had been reported exactly as He spoke them, they would not have secured His condemnation even by the Sanhedrin. Had Jesus been a mere man, as the Jews claimed, His declaration would only have indicated an unreasonable, boastful spirit, but could not have been construed into blasphemy. Even as misrepresented by the false witnesses, His words contained nothing which would be regarded by the Romans as a crime worthy of death.

Patiently Jesus listened to the conflicting testimonies. No word did He utter in self-defense. At last His accusers were entangled, confused, and maddened. The trial was making no headway; it seemed that their plottings were to fail. Caiaphas was desperate. One last resort remained; Christ must be forced to condemn Himself. The high priest started from the judgment seat, his face contorted with passion, his voice and demeanor plainly indicating that were it in his power he would strike down the prisoner before him. “Answerest Thou nothing?” he exclaimed; “what is it which these witness against Thee?”

Jesus held His peace. “He was oppressed, and He was afflicted, yet He opened not His mouth: He is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so He openeth not His mouth.” Isaiah 53:7.

At last, Caiaphas, raising his right hand toward heaven, addressed Jesus in the form of a solemn oath: “I adjure Thee by the living God, that Thou tell us whether Thou be the Christ, the Son of God.”

To this appeal Christ could not remain silent. There was a time to be silent, and a time to speak. He had not spoken until directly questioned. He knew that to answer now would make His death certain. But the appeal was made by the highest acknowledged authority of the nation, and in the name of the Most High. Christ would not fail to show proper respect for the law. More than this, His own relation to the Father was called in question. He must plainly declare His character and mission. Jesus had said to His disciples, “Whosoever therefore shall confess Me before men, him will I confess also before My Father which is in heaven.” Matthew 10:32. Now by His own example He repeated the lesson.

Every ear was bent to listen, and every eye was fixed on His face as He answered, “Thou hast said.” A heavenly light seemed to illuminate His pale countenance as He added, “Nevertheless I say unto you, Hereafter shall ye see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.”

For a moment the divinity of Christ flashed through His guise of humanity. The high priest quailed before the penetrating eyes of the Saviour. That look seemed to read his hidden thoughts, and burn into his heart. Never in afterlife did he forget that searching glance of the persecuted Son of God.

“Hereafter,” said Jesus, “shall ye see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.” In these words Christ presented the reverse of the scene then taking place. He, the Lord of life and glory, would be seated at God's right hand. He would be the judge of all the earth, and from His decision there could be no appeal. Then every secret thing would be set in the light of God's countenance, and judgment be passed upon every man according to his deeds.

The words of Christ startled the high priest. The thought that there was to be a resurrection of the dead, when all would stand at the bar of God, to be rewarded according to their works, was a thought of terror to Caiaphas. He did not wish to believe that in future he would receive sentence according to his works. There rushed before his mind as a panorama the scenes of the final judgment. For a moment he saw the fearful spectacle of the graves giving up their dead, with the secrets he had hoped were forever hidden. For a moment he felt as if standing before the eternal Judge, whose eye, which sees all things, was reading his soul, bringing to light mysteries supposed to be hidden with the dead.

The scene passed from the priest's vision. Christ's words cut him, the Sadducee, to the quick. Caiaphas had denied the doctrine of the resurrection, the judgment, and a future life. Now he was maddened by satanic fury. Was this man, a prisoner before him, to assail his most cherished theories? Rending his robe, that the people might see his pretended horror, he demanded that without further preliminaries the prisoner be condemned for blasphemy. “What further need have we of witnesses?” he said; “behold, now ye have heard His blasphemy. What think ye?” And they all condemned Him.

Conviction mingled with passion led Caiaphas to do as he did. He was furious with himself for believing Christ's words, and instead of rending his heart under a deep sense of truth, and confessing that Jesus was the Messiah, he rent his priestly robes in determined resistance. This act was deeply significant. Little did Caiaphas realize its meaning. In this act, done to influence the judges and secure Christ's condemnation, the high priest had condemned himself. By the law of God he was disqualified for the priesthood. He had pronounced upon himself the death sentence.

A high priest was not to rend his garments. By the Levitical law, this was prohibited under sentence of death. Under no circumstances, on no occasion, was the priest to rend his robe. It was the custom among the Jews for the garments to be rent at the death of friends, but this custom the priests were not to observe. Express command had been given by Christ to Moses concerning this. Leviticus 10:6.

Everything worn by the priest was to be whole and without blemish. By those beautiful official garments was represented the character of the great antitype, Jesus Christ. Nothing but perfection, in dress and attitude, in word and spirit, could be acceptable to God. He is holy, and His glory and perfection must be represented by the earthly service. Nothing but perfection could properly represent the sacredness of the heavenly service. Finite man might rend his own heart by showing a contrite and humble spirit. This God would discern. But no rent must be made in the priestly robes, for this would mar the representation of heavenly things. The high priest who dared to appear in holy office, and engage in the service of the sanctuary, with a rent robe, was looked upon as having severed himself from God. By rending his garment he cut himself off from being a representative character. He was no longer accepted by God as an officiating priest. This course of action, as exhibited by Caiaphas, showed human passion, human imperfection.

By rending his garments, Caiaphas made of no effect the law of God, to follow the tradition of men. A man-made law provided that in case of blasphemy a priest might rend his garments in horror at the sin, and be guiltless. Thus the law of God was made void by the laws of men.

Each action of the high priest was watched with interest by the people; and Caiaphas thought for effect to display his piety. But in this act, designed as an accusation against Christ, he was reviling the One of whom God had said, “My name is in Him.” Exodus 23:21. He himself was committing blasphemy. Standing under the condemnation of God, he pronounced sentence upon Christ as a blasphemer.

When Caiaphas rent his garment, his act was significant of the place that the Jewish nation as a nation would thereafter occupy toward God. The once favored people of God were separating themselves from Him, and were fast becoming a people disowned by Jehovah. When Christ upon the cross cried out, “It is finished” (John 19:30), and the veil of the temple was rent in twain, the Holy Watcher declared that the Jewish people had rejected Him who was the antitype of all their types, the substance of all their shadows. Israel was divorced from God. Well might Caiaphas then rend his official robes, which signified that he claimed to be a representative of the great High Priest; for no longer had they any meaning for him or for the people. Well might the high priest rend his robes in horror for himself and for the nation.

The Sanhedrin had pronounced Jesus worthy of death; but it was contrary to the Jewish law to try a prisoner by night. In legal condemnation nothing could be done except in the light of day and before a full session of the council. Notwithstanding this, the Saviour was now treated as a condemned criminal, and given up to be abused by the lowest and vilest of humankind. The palace of the high priest surrounded an open court in which the soldiers and the multitude had gathered. Through this court, Jesus was taken to the guardroom, on every side meeting with mockery of His claim to be the Son of God. His own words, “sitting on the right hand of power,” and, “coming in the clouds of heaven,” were jeeringly repeated. While in the guardroom, awaiting His legal trial, He was not protected. The ignorant rabble had seen the cruelty with which He was treated before the council, and from this they took license to manifest all the satanic elements of their nature. Christ's very nobility and godlike bearing goaded them to madness. His meekness, His innocence, His majestic patience, filled them with hatred born of Satan. Mercy and justice were trampled upon. Never was criminal treated in so inhuman a manner as was the Son of God.

But a keener anguish rent the heart of Jesus; the blow that inflicted the deepest pain no enemy's hand could have dealt. While He was undergoing the mockery of an examination before Caiaphas, Christ had been denied by one of His own disciples.

After deserting their Master in the garden, two of the disciples had ventured to follow, at a distance, the mob that had Jesus in charge. These disciples were Peter and John. The priests recognized John as a well-known disciple of Jesus, and admitted him to the hall, hoping that as he witnessed the humiliation of his Leader, he would scorn the idea of such a one being the Son of God. John spoke in favor of Peter, and gained an entrance for him also.

In the court a fire had been kindled; for it was the coldest hour of the night, being just before the dawn. A company drew about the fire, and Peter presumptuously took his place with them. He did not wish to be recognized as a disciple of Jesus. By mingling carelessly with the crowd, he hoped to be taken for one of those who had brought Jesus to the hall.

But as the light flashed upon Peter's face, the woman who kept the door cast a searching glance upon him. She had noticed that he came in with John, she marked the look of dejection on his face, and thought that he might be a disciple of Jesus. She was one of the servants of Caiaphas’ household, and was curious to know. She said to Peter, “Art not thou also one of this Man's disciples?” Peter was startled and confused; the eyes of the company instantly fastened upon him. He pretended not to understand her; but she was persistent, and said to those around her that this man was with Jesus. Peter felt compelled to answer, and said angrily, “Woman, I know Him not.” This was the first denial, and immediately the cock crew. O Peter, so soon ashamed of thy Master! so soon to deny thy Lord!

The disciple John, upon entering the judgment hall, did not try to conceal the fact that he was a follower of Jesus. He did not mingle with the rough company who were reviling his Master. He was not questioned, for he did not assume a false character, and thus lay himself liable to suspicion. He sought a retired corner secure from the notice of the mob, but as near Jesus as it was possible for him to be. Here he could see and hear all that took place at the trial of his Lord.

Peter had not designed that his real character should be known. In assuming an air of indifference he had placed himself on the enemy's ground, and he became an easy prey to temptation. If he had been called to fight for his Master, he would have been a courageous soldier; but when the finger of scorn was pointed at him, he proved himself a coward. Many who do not shrink from active warfare for their Lord are driven by ridicule to deny their faith. By associating with those whom they should avoid, they place themselves in the way of temptation. They invite the enemy to tempt them, and are led to say and do that of which under other circumstances they would never have been guilty. The disciple of Christ who in our day disguises his faith through dread of suffering or reproach denies his Lord as really as did Peter in the judgment hall.

Peter tried to show no interest in the trial of his Master, but his heart was wrung with sorrow as he heard the cruel taunts, and saw the abuse He was suffering. More than this, he was surprised and angry that Jesus should humiliate Himself and His followers by submitting to such treatment. In order to conceal his true feelings, he endeavored to join with the persecutors of Jesus in their untimely jests. But his appearance was unnatural. He was acting a lie, and while seeking to talk unconcernedly he could not restrain expressions of indignation at the abuse heaped upon his Master.

Attention was called to him the second time, and he was again charged with being a follower of Jesus. He now declared with an oath, “I do not know the Man.” Still another opportunity was given him. An hour had passed, when one of the servants of the high priest, being a near kinsman of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, asked him, “Did not I see thee in the garden with Him?” “Surely thou art one of them: for thou art a Galilean, and thy speech agreeth thereto.” At this Peter flew into a rage. The disciples of Jesus were noted for the purity of their language, and in order fully to deceive his questioners, and justify his assumed character, Peter now denied his Master with cursing and swearing. Again the cock crew. Peter heard it then, and he remembered the words of Jesus, “Before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny Me thrice.” Mark 14:30.

While the degrading oaths were fresh upon Peter's lips, and the shrill crowing of the cock was still ringing in his ears, the Saviour turned from the frowning judges, and looked full upon His poor disciple. At the same time Peter's eyes were drawn to his Master. In that gentle countenance he read deep pity and sorrow, but there was no anger there.

The sight of that pale, suffering face, those quivering lips, that look of compassion and forgiveness, pierced his heart like an arrow. Conscience was aroused. Memory was active. Peter called to mind his promise of a few short hours before that he would go with his Lord to prison and to death. He remembered his grief when the Saviour told him in the upper chamber that he would deny his Lord thrice that same night. Peter had just declared that he knew not Jesus, but he now realized with bitter grief how well his Lord knew him, and how accurately He had read his heart, the falseness of which was unknown even to himself.

A tide of memories rushed over him. The Saviour's tender mercy, His kindness and long-suffering, His gentleness and patience toward His erring disciples,—all was remembered. He recalled the caution, “Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat: but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not.” Luke 22:31, 32. He reflected with horror upon his own ingratitude, his falsehood, his perjury. Once more he looked at his Master, and saw a sacrilegious hand raised to smite Him in the face. Unable longer to endure the scene, he rushed, heartbroken, from the hall.

He pressed on in solitude and darkness, he knew not and cared not whither. At last he found himself in Gethsemane. The scene of a few hours before came vividly to his mind. The suffering face of his Lord, stained with bloody sweat and convulsed with anguish, rose before him. He remembered with bitter remorse that Jesus had wept and agonized in prayer alone, while those who should have united with Him in that trying hour were sleeping. He remembered His solemn charge, “Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation.” Matthew 26:41. He witnessed again the scene in the judgment hall. It was torture to his bleeding heart to know that he had added the heaviest burden to the Saviour's humiliation and grief. On the very spot where Jesus had poured out His soul in agony to His Father, Peter fell upon his face, and wished that he might die.

It was in sleeping when Jesus bade him watch and pray that Peter had prepared the way for his great sin. All the disciples, by sleeping in that critical hour, sustained a great loss. Christ knew the fiery ordeal through which they were to pass. He knew how Satan would work to paralyze their senses that they might be unready for the trial. Therefore it was that He gave them warning. Had those hours in the garden been spent in watching and prayer, Peter would not have been left to depend upon his own feeble strength. He would not have denied his Lord. Had the disciples watched with Christ in His agony, they would have been prepared to behold His suffering upon the cross. They would have understood in some degree the nature of His overpowering anguish. They would have been able to recall His words that foretold His sufferings, His death, and His resurrection. Amid the gloom of the most trying hour, some rays of hope would have lighted up the darkness and sustained their faith.

As soon as it was day, the Sanhedrin again assembled, and again Jesus was brought into the council room. He had declared Himself the Son of God, and they had construed His words into a charge against Him. But they could not condemn Him on this, for many of them had not been present at the night session, and they had not heard His words. And they knew that the Roman tribunal would find in them nothing worthy of death. But if from His own lips they could all hear those words repeated, their object might be gained. His claim to the Messiahship they might construe into a seditious political claim.

“Art Thou the Christ?” they said, “tell us.” But Christ remained silent. They continued to ply Him with questions. At last in tones of mournful pathos He answered, “If I tell you, ye will not believe; and if I also ask you, ye will not answer Me, nor let Me go.” But that they might be left without excuse He added the solemn warning, “Hereafter shall the Son of man sit on the right hand of the power of God.”

“Art Thou then the Son of God?” they asked with one voice. He said unto them, “Ye say that I am.” They cried out, “What need we any further witness? for we ourselves have heard of His own mouth.”

And so by the third condemnation of the Jewish authorities, Jesus was to die. All that was now necessary, they thought, was for the Romans to ratify this condemnation, and deliver Him into their hands.

Then came the third scene of abuse and mockery, worse even than that received from the ignorant rabble. In the very presence of the priests and rulers, and with their sanction, this took place. Every feeling of sympathy or humanity had gone out of their hearts. If their arguments were weak, and failed to silence His voice, they had other weapons, such as in all ages have been used to silence heretics,—suffering, and violence, and death.

When the condemnation of Jesus was pronounced by the judges, a satanic fury took possession of the people. The roar of voices was like that of wild beasts. The crowd made a rush toward Jesus, crying, He is guilty, put Him to death! Had it not been for the Roman soldiers, Jesus would not have lived to be nailed to the cross of Calvary. He would have been torn in pieces before His judges, had not Roman authority interfered, and by force of arms restrained the violence of the mob.

Heathen men were angry at the brutal treatment of one against whom nothing had been proved. The Roman officers declared that the Jews in pronouncing condemnation upon Jesus were infringing upon the Roman power, and that it was even against the Jewish law to condemn a man to death upon his own testimony. This intervention brought a momentary lull in the proceedings; but the Jewish leaders were dead alike to pity and to shame.

Priests and rulers forgot the dignity of their office, and abused the Son of God with foul epithets. They taunted Him with His parentage. They declared that His presumption in proclaiming Himself the Messiah made Him deserving of the most ignominious death. The most dissolute men engaged in infamous abuse of the Saviour. An old garment was thrown over His head, and His persecutors struck Him in the face, saying, “Prophesy unto us, Thou Christ, Who is he that smote Thee?” When the garment was removed, one poor wretch spat in His face.

The angels of God faithfully recorded every insulting look, word, and act against their beloved Commander. One day the base men who scorned and spat upon the calm, pale face of Christ will look upon it in its glory, shining brighter than the sun.

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bostonfly · 4 years

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Partial list:

1. 100-year-lifespan We’re more likely than ever to live past a century. Whether this becomes a blessing or a curse for society and business depends on how much we can prepare for it.

2. 5G Self-driving cars, robotics and smart cities, to name a few, will be supercharged through the 5G wireless network. It’s the next step in mobile internet connectivity – and it’s here. Almost.

4. Algorithmic justice More machines than ever can recognise us, but they inadvertently discriminate on race, gender and more. People like Joy Buolamwini are trying to fix these built-in biases.

6. Autocomplete We’re starting to trust AI systems to write our emails for us. Is this time-saving tool changing how we communicate?

7. Automated hiring – and firing AI can screen your job application – the question is whether it should also be allowed to scan your social media, analyse your facial expressions and even fire you.

8. Biohacking Fasting, micro-dosing, supplements, some go to great lengths to boost productivity – even if the validity of such approaches is unproven.

12. Car-free cities Oslo is the latest city to make its central zone car-free. Though some diehard drivers and business owners have been sceptical, the benefits are substantial.

18. Degrowth movement Economic growth is leading to over-consumption and climate change. Degrowth argues that shrinking our economies can have benefits.

28. Flygskam Domestic air travel has dipped in Sweden as climate-conscious travellers opt for the train. If ‘flight shame’ becomes the norm, it could have significant consequences for business travel.

34. Gig reality Self-employment is more common than ever, but some are finding that the freedom of being your own boss comes with a price.

38. Hidden disabilities Some 700 million people have dyslexia – but innovation in website design and devices like smart pens could make workplaces more accessible.

41. Humanics More jobs will be automated as artificial intelligence advances. Here’s why embracing a learning philosophy may help you stay employed.

47. JOMO As the antithesis of FOMO, the ‘joy of missing out’ symbolises relief from the breathless and guilt-laden need to be perennially switched on and constantly productive.

55. Longevity economy The idea of ‘oldness’ stifles business thinking. Embracing elderly workers alongside younger generations could combat what economic doomsayers call a ‘demographic time bomb’.

60. Microbreaks Taking regular miniature pauses from intensive work – even if they last just seconds – can yield big benefits.

63. Nanoinfluencers Big-name influencers can connect with millions in a single post, but there’s a whole new industry evolving for creators with much fewer followers but who have a more authentic or approachable voice.

72. Platform co-operatives Tech giants like Uber and Deliveroo rely on gig workers, but draw heavy criticism for shifting risk onto their armies of independent contractors. A global movement is trying to build alternatives, combining the platform model with established principles of worker ownership.

79. Radical candour A way of giving feedback that draws a happy medium between the blunt, harsh management of the 1980s and the touchy-feely compassion of the 21st Century.

80. Remote workforce Some cities are paying people to move in, hoping new remote workers can boost local economies and populations.

81. Reverse mentoring There’s plenty for older generations to learn from their younger counterparts. But some cultures are more resistant to the idea than others.

82. Right-to-repair movement Many companies make it hard for you to fix the gadgets you buy from them. Some people want to change that.

88. Soft skills Employees need abilities computers and automated systems don’t have – like creativity, adaptability and persuasion. Yet recruiters are struggling to find these kinds of candidates.

90. Superapps Wildly popular in Asia, apps that can do everything from ordering rides to paying for everything are changing the way that people live and do business.

91. Superjobs If you already feel like you’re doing three jobs at once, the superjobs of the future will make certain it stays that way.

92. Telepresence Rather than giving a robot the smarts to do a task by itself, it’s easier to let someone guide a dumb robot from afar. This move is going to upend who does what jobs where and when.

96. Universal Basic Income A no-strings-attached income has been advocated by Thomas More and others. The idea has gained new popularity amid the automation of jobs, but it’s still untried on a major level.

98. Unretirement Pensioners are re-entering the workforce – some out of choice and some out of necessity. But can their need for jobs be accommodated?

#future #ideas

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xianityisafraud-blog · 5 years

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Christianity is misogynistic.

Misogyny is fundamental to the basic writings of Christianity. In passage after passage, women are encouraged—no, commanded—to accept an inferior role, and to be ashamed of themselves for the simple fact that they are women. Misogynistic biblical passages are so common that its difficult to know which to cite. From the New Testament we find "Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church. . . ." (Ephesians 5:22-23) and "These [redeemed] are they which were not defiled with women; . . ." (Revelation 14:4); and from the Old Testament we find "How then can man be justified with God? Or how can he be clean that is born of a woman?" (Job 25:4) Other relevant New Testament passages include Colossians 3:18; 1 Peter 3:7; 1 Corinthians 11:3, 11:9, and 14:34; and 1 Timothy 2:11-12 and 5:5-6. Other Old Testament passages include Numbers 5:20-22 and Leviticus 12:2-5 and 15:17-33.

Later Christian writers extended the misogynistic themes in the Bible with a vengeance. Tertullian, one of the early church fathers, wrote:

In pain shall you bring forth children, woman, and you shall turn to your husband and he shall rule over you. And do you not know that you are Eve? God's sentence hangs still over all your sex and His punishment weighs down upon you. You are the devil's gateway; you are she who first violated the forbidden tree and broke the law of God. It was you who coaxed your way around him whom the devil had not the force to attack. With what ease you shattered that image of God: Man! Because of the death you merited, even the Son of God had to die. . . . Woman, you are the gate to hell.

One can find similarly misogynistic—though sometimes less venomous—statements in the writings of many other church fathers and theologians, including St. Ambrose, St. Anthony, Thomas Aquinas, St. Augustine, St. John Chrysostom, St. Gregory of Nazianzum, and St. Jerome.

This misogynistic bias in Christianity's basic texts has long been translated into misogyny in practice. Throughout almost the entire time that Christianity had Europe and America in its lock grip, women were treated as chattel—they had essentially no political rights, and their right to own property was severely restricted. Perhaps the clearest illustration of the status of women in the ages when Christianity was at its most powerful is the prevalence of wife beating. This degrading, disgusting practice was very common throughout Christendom well up into the 19th century, and under English Common Law husbands who beat their wives were specifically exempted from prosecution. (While wife beating is still common in Christian lands, at least in some countries abusers are at least sometimes prosecuted.)

At about the same time that English Common Law (with its wife-beating exemption) was being formulated and codified, Christians all across Europe were engaging in a half-millennium-long orgy of torture and murder of "witches"—at the direct behest and under the direction of the highest church authorities. The watchword of the time was Exodus 22:18, "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live," and at the very minimum hundreds of thousands of women were brutally murdered as a result of this divine injunction, and the papal bulls amplifying it (e.g., Spondit Pariter, by John XXII, and Summis Desiderantes, by Innocent VIII). Andrew Dickson White notes:

On the 7th of December, 1484, Pope Innocent VIII sent forth the bull Summis Desiderantes. Of all documents ever issued from Rome, imperial or papal, this has doubtless, first and last, cost the greatest shedding of innocent blood. Yet no document was ever more clearly dictated by conscience. Inspired by the scriptural command, "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live," Pope Innocent exhorted the clergy of Germany to leave no means untried to detect sorcerers . . . [W]itch-finding inquisitors were authorized by the Pope to scour Europe, especially Germany, and a manual was prepared for their use [by the Dominicans Heinrich Kramer and Jacob Sprenger]—"The Witch Hammer", Malleus Maleficarum. . . . With the application of torture to thousands of women, in accordance with the precepts laid down in the Malleus, it was not difficult to extract masses of proof . . . The poor creatures writhing on the rack, held in horror by those who had been nearest and dearest to them, anxious only for death to relieve their sufferings, confessed to anything and everything that would satisfy the inquisitors and judges. . . . Under the doctrine of "excepted cases," there was no limit to torture for persons accused of heresy or witchcraft.

Given this bloody, hateful history, it's not surprising that women have always held very subservient positions in Christian churches. In fact, there appear to have been no female clergy in any Christian church prior to the 20th century (with the exception of those who posed as men, such as Pope Joan), and even today a great many Christian sects (most notably the Catholic Church) continue to resist ordaining female clergy. While a few liberal Protestant churches have ordained women in recent years, it's difficult to see this as a great step forward for women; it's easier to see it as analogous to the Ku Klux Klans appointing a few token blacks as Klaxons.

As for the improvements in the status of women over the last two centuries, the Christian churches either did nothing to support them or actively opposed them. This is most obvious as regards women’s control over their own bodies. Organized Christianity has opposed this from the start, and as late as the 1960′s the Catholic Church was still putting its energies into the imposition of laws prohibiting access to contraceptives. Having lost that battle, Christianity has more recently put its energies into attempts to outlaw the right of women to abortion.

Many of those leading the fight for women's rights have had no illusions about the misogynistic nature of Christianity. These women included Mary Wollstonecraft, Victoria Woodhull, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and Margaret Sanger (whose slogan, "No God. No master," remains relevant to this day).

#bible #biblestudy #jesus christ #christian #anti christian #christianity #church #christmas #religion #hipocrisy #mysoginy #feminist #feminism

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rubadubdub3nunsinatub · 6 years

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How the Wraith see the Atlantis Expedition

“They came some time ago — we do not know exactly how long — from a world of humans in another galaxy. They came to the City of the Lanteans and held it as by birthright under the control of a very great Queen, She Who Is A Strong Place. We do not know why she came, with her clevermen and blades. Perhaps she had the losing end of a struggle in her own place, or perhaps she desired greater dominion than she could wrest from the queens there. We do not know. But we do know that she was of full years and at the height of her powers, and that her blades and clevermen were skilled. And she was worthy of her name. When a rival hive of humans captured her own Consort, the one they call Guide, she watched him tortured in front of her and betrayed nothing. That is the act of a Queen, Quicksilver! Only a great Queen would have such courage and such dignity.”

“But the Asurans rose up, as they did to the detriment of many hives, and many of our lives were lost in fighting them, the enemies of all life, for they killed humans as they did us, and their ire was directed toward the Lanteans as toward us in equal measure. And they did kill She Who is A Strong Place, as they did so many of our queens, leaving the Lanteans queenless.”

“As in so many of our hives, there was no heir at hand, for the Young Queen was untried and too young yet, and was also carrying her firstborn. So the Consort, Guide, sent back to their place and made an alliance with one of the mightiest Queens of Earth, one who is called She Who Carries Many Things. And She Who Carries Many Things came to the City of the Lanteans and there she confirmed Guide as her Consort.”

“No doubt it was for form’s sake alone, as these things often are. We have heard that she has a Consort in her own place, an older blade named Trickster, as is to be expected. She Who Carries Many Things is a warrior Queen, and in little time had pressed the Asurans to the bone and destroyed them, to the glory of us all and to the rejoicing of every hive that is — for surely all of us, Wraith and Kine alike, would be dead if not.”

“But She Who Carries Many Things had a greater realm and much to do in other places, so after the Asurans were defeated she went away, leaving in her stead one of her blades, called Hairy.”

“We think it is a joke, as he is an ugly man with little hair. And so Hairy and the Consort Guide rule over the Lanteans while the Young Queen grows. We do not know what assurance the Young Queen has given She Who Carries Many Things that she and her son should be let to live, but perhaps they are kin through their mothers, and She Who Carries Many Things is content to let her be her proxy. We do not know. But that is where things stand. It is this Consort, Guide, who is the power among the Lanteans, unless She Who Carries Many Things returns.”

Stargate Legacy Book 2 - The Lost Chpt. 7

Care to take a guess at who’s who? Clues in tags. Doesn't count if you have read the books but ;)

#stargate atlantis #stargate #stargate atlantis legacy #wraith #samantha carter #Elizabeth Weir #richard woolsey #teyla emmagan #john sheppard #Rodney McKay

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way2dubai · 3 years

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All about Evening desert safari Dubai with Quad bike experience

Explore the expansive desert landscape of UAE in a four-wheeled companion as you explore new destinations. You will be delighted by the unconventional, untried and less traveled paths. Dubai is unsurpassed and unrivaled when you feel you would like to experience an experience that is different from a smooth ride on a powerful quad bike in the mesmerizing desert. We offer a variety of off-roading adventures such as racing through the sand and other thrilling activities at Desert Safari Dubai. Quad bikes are the most thrilling and exciting form of transportation in the rugged terrain of deserts. A quad bike can glide smoothly over slopes and cut through sand with ease. Experience the thrill of riding a bike while enjoying the safety of four wheels when you rent a quad bike. Dubai offers a variety of boundless deserts which will provide you with the opportunity to experience an adrenaline rush. Dubai is the only place where you can enjoy quad biking and there is no better place. Riding a quad bike in the desert is one of the most popular outdoor activities for both domestic and international visitors. We invite you to take part in a quad bike desert safari in Dubai.

The trip will provide an exciting opportunity to travel across the deserts and to climb over the dunes. It is likely that you will observe many frenzy bikers enjoying the deserts during your visit to Dubai. In Dubai, we are the most reliable and authentic bike rental service provider. Enjoy quad bike safaris in Dubai when you visit the UAE. The option of a desert safari can also be considered, where you will be entertained and treated to a delicious dinner while you are in the desert. Our experts ensure that you are completely safe and provide all of the necessary equipment. During our desert safari, you will have the chance to enjoy a quad biking session in the sand dunes. In addition, you can experience camel riding while you are here, as it is the best way for you to understand the old ways of life in this region. Furthermore, you can choose between an evening or morning desert safari. In the morning and at dusk, the desert has different vibes to offer, so both are exceptional experiences. We are the only option for quad bike desert safari Dubai.

What to Experience at Dubai Desert Safari Tour ?

An adventure-filled 7-hour desert safari tour will take you into Dubai's most famous desert known as Lahbab. In addition to its red sands and towering dunes, Lahbab is located 50 kilometres from the city, providing for an ideal location for an adventurous outing. In addition to providing a perfect blend of adventure and relaxation, this tour is perfect for adventure seekers, families, couples and solo travellers.

A 4x4 vehicle will pick you up from your hotel; the drive to the desert spot takes approximately 45-50 minutes. Do not hesitate to ask your expert guide about the history of Dubai, the famous monuments, or even the height of Burj Khalifa!

The guide will deflate the tires after reaching Lahbab, and we will take a 20-minute break while we wait for the other convoy to catch up. While you are waiting, you can ride your quad bike or take a bathroom break.

As soon as you are ready, you will be taken deeper into the desert where you will enjoy 30 to 45 minutes of dune-bashing excitement as you skim across the sand dunes. Following the delightful drive, there is an opportunity for a relaxing photo stop atop the highest dune. You do not want to miss this opportunity to take an Instagram-worthy picture of a stunning sunset. You may wish to try the sand-boarding activity during your visit. Sand-boarding is an extremely popular sport suitable for all ages and abilities, and it requires no previous experience or training.

As a result, head to our Bedouin-style camp, tucked away in the heart of the desert, after stopping for a picture. Be greeted with Qahwa (Arabic coffee), dates and Lugamat (traditional candy) as you enjoy the many activities organized in the camp such as camel rides, shisha pipe, henna tattoo artists, take photos in traditional Arab costumes and shop through the souvenir stand to discover unique and exotic adornments for your loved ones back home. Possibility of taking pictures with a Falcon as well.

Enjoy a delicious and luxurious barbecue spread of kebabs, hummus, salads, and soft drinks as the night draws in. The Tanura performance will be followed by a colourful belly show during your meal.

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#Youtube

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arensondental · 3 years

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Why Get Professional Teeth Whitening Instead of At-Home Treatments

At-home whiteners may tempt many people who are looking for a quick, teeth-whitening solution. However, the best and safest method is to use in-office bleaching or professional treatments that contain higher percentages of peroxide, such as our cosmetic dentist in Richmond Hill.

The levels of hydrogen peroxide used in tooth whiteners can range from 3% up to 43%. Professional treatments skew towards these higher numbers, whereas at-home kits will have lower concentrations, such as between 3% and 20%.

For those looking for the most convenient, low-cost option, at-home teeth whitening kits can be a good fit. But there are some drawbacks to using these products. Like our cosmetic dentistry in Richmond Hill, expert tooth bleaching often has more suitable and noticeable results than do-it-yourself methods. Further, it doesn’t involve any of the risks that come with using an untried home product on your mouth or gums, which could lead to infection or other health problems down the line.

Other potential risks of at-home treatments include using tooth whitening gel for too long. If you do, it can dehydrate your teeth and make them more sensitive. This can cause pain or other dental problems, which is why at-home products are not always the best option. It’s also much more likely that patients will misuse an at-home system, while a professional treatment, such as cosmetic dentistry services in Richmond Hill, is more likely to be successful. So, there may be no need to worry about using one of these methods for yourself!

Arenson Dental & Associates 815 Major Mackenzie Dr E,Unit 7 Richmond Hill, Ontario Zip Code: L4C 9X2 Phone No: (905)770-3000 E-Mail: [email protected]

#cosmetic dentist in Richmond Hill

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bbcbreakingnews · 3 years

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Canadian socialite Jasmine Hartin to be moved to Belize Central Prison

As the daughter-in-law of a British lord, she is accustomed to a life of luxury, rubbing shoulders with billionaire ex-pats and hosting lavish parties at her luxury resort on a wealthy Caribbean island.

But socialite Jasmin Hartin – dubbed the ‘Queen of the Alaia’, the swank hotel she operates with her husband, Andrew Ashcroft, the son of Lord Michael Ashcroft – will soon be swapping her idyllic surroundings for a squalid cell in one of Central America’s toughest jails.

The Belize Central Prison in Hattieville is the nation’s only prison and has been slammed for its inhumane conditions and overcrowding.

Nicknamed the ‘Hattieville Ramada’, it currently houses 1,041 prisoners, many of whom are forced to wait months or even years for trial, in austere, concrete cellblocks, undergoing strict religious instruction.

As of today they had one sole Caucasian inmate, DailyMail.com can reveal.

Canadian socialite and resort owner Jasmine Hartin (left) was drinking with Belize Police Superintendent Henry Jemmott (right) before he died early Friday. She has insisted she accidentally shot the officer while handing him his service weapon

DailyMail.com has learned Hartin, who is charged with manslaughter by negligence, could soon be moved to Belize Central Prison, in Hattieville, the only correctional jail in the country

‘Thus far she stands accused and will be dealt with just like any other untried prisoner. And I will leave it at that,’ said Virgillio Murillo, CEO of the Kolbe Foundation, a nonprofit that runs the notorious facility.

Mother-of-two Hartin, 32, insists she fired by accident as she was handing Superintendent Henry Jemmott back his service weapon last Friday morning.

The two friends had been drinking on a wooden jetty close to her hotel when a single bullet struck Jemmott in the back of the head, causing the 6ft officer to topple off a pier in the luxury coastal enclave of Ambergris Caye.

Hartin has been charged with manslaughter by negligence rather than murder or full-fledged manslaughter which means she could be let off with a short prison sentence or more likely a fine.

Her influential attorney Godfrey Smith implored a magistrate in San Pedro, the island’s only town, to release her during a closed-doors arraignment Sunday but the official sided with cops who said she was a major flight risk.

Hartin will be transferred to the Belizean mainland by plane or boat in the next day or so, where she will settle into life in prison while Smith, the former attorney general of Belize, appeals to the Supreme Court to overturn the decision.

Hartin has spent the past four days holed up in a tiny concrete cell at the stiflingly hot police and magistrates court complex in San Pedro, the tropical resort’s only town.

The jail houses both men and women, as well as youths, and has been featured on Netflix documentary series, Inside the World’s Toughest Prisons. Pictured: Inmates at the BCP

Nicknamed the ‘Hattieville Ramada’, it currently houses 1,041 prisoners, many of whom are forced to wait months or even years for trial, in austere, concrete cellblocks

Inmates at the facility, which is run by the the Kolbe Foundation, are made to do farm work or other laborious tasks as they undergo strict religious instruction

She was seen pictured behind bars by local media in Belize on Monday evening.

Hartin, who is married to the son of British billionaire Lord Michael Ashcroft, was taken into custody last Friday after Jemmott was fatally shot behind the ear with his own revolver.

It comes as DailyMail.com revealed that Hartin, who was pictured in jail on Monday evening, could escape with just a fine.

Local news reports indicate that Hartin had initially told police Jemmott had been shot by someone passing them in a boat.

She clammed up when she was in police custody and summoned a lawyer, sources say.

Hartin started cooperating with police after being told she was facing cocaine charges, according to 7 News Belize.

Jemmott, who had arrived in San Pedro last week and was staying at a downtown hotel, had been fishing and visiting bars with a friend.

In her statement to police, Hartin claims she invited the veteran officer to her apartment where the pair drank and discussed her personal security.

She told cops they later walked a short distance to the wooden pier by the Mata Rocks hotel, which was closed because of the pandemic.

Hartin told police that Jemmott said he was suffering from shoulder pain so she offered him a massage while he placed his service weapon on the dock.

It was when she picked it up to pass it back to him that that loaded gun fired accidentally, according to the statement.

The blonde socialite has spent the past four days holed up in a tiny concrete cell at the stiflingly hot police and magistrates court complex in San Pedro, the tropical resort’s only town. She was pictured behind bars by local media on Monday evening

Hartin was in custody in a holding cell at the San Pedro police station jail (pictured) which one local described as ‘hell on earth’

Hartin was found at the scene by a security guard ‘hysterical’ and covered in blood, but clammed up and summoned a lawyer once she was in police custody, sources said.

The blonde socialite has spent the past four days holed up in a tiny concrete cell at the stiflingly hot police and magistrates court complex in San Pedro, the tropical resort’s only town.

Hartin was arraigned behind a cloak of secrecy on Monday in San Pedro, despite authorities insisting the glamorous mother-of-two would not receive any preferential treatment.

Police abruptly ejected reporters and members of the public from the building before she was taken from the tiny, concrete holding cell to the court, one floor above, at around 3:30pm local time.

Officers cited COVID social distancing rules that ban assemblies of more than ten people, though more than double that amount were stood in a waiting room earlier in the day.

Hartin will spend another night in a squalid Belize jail cell after her attorney, Godfrey Smith, emerged from the courthouse late Monday saying his client had been denied bail.

‘The charge is manslaughter by negligence. Bail has been denied. We appeal to the Supreme Court as is normal,’ he said.

Late on Thursday evening, Hartin left her luxury hotel, Alaia (pictured) and walked a short distance down a beach to a small wooden jetty to meet Jemmott

Belize Police Superintendent Henry Jemmott, who had arrived in San Pedro last week and was staying at a downtown hotel, had been fishing and visiting bars with a friend before he was killed

Police Commissioner Chester Williams said on Sunday morning that Hartin had given a statement under caution and a file was passed on to the Director of Public Prosecutions, Cheryl-Lynn Vidal.

The punishment for manslaughter can be ‘life’ in prison – up to 25 years – in the Belizean criminal system. However, Hartin is facing a maximum of five years, sources told DailyMail.com.

Sources with knowledge of the island’s secretive justice system said the punishment could alternatively be just a fine of around $20,000 Belizean dollars, or $10,000 in US money.

source https://bbcbreakingnews.com/canadian-socialite-jasmine-hartin-to-be-moved-to-belize-central-prison/

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