#This also shows his unwavering act of compassion to the suffering of others

[ranminfan]

Once or twice, St. Dominic offered to sell himself into slavery in exchange to free the unfortunates who were imprisoned.

.

This man will not hesitate to give charity, even going forth to sell his books to help.

I've been reading a lot of stories of different saints and planning on making art pieces of it 'cause I find them really interesting.

#This also shows his unwavering act of compassion to the suffering of others #making him a patron saint for the falsely accused. #St. Dominic De Guzman #Saints #my art #Catholic art #Christianity #Order of Preachers #friars #monks #moors

[karniss-bg3]

The Tragedy of Faith

So between tumblr and twitter I've read various takes on Kar'niss and what draws people to him. For some it's the monster fucking appeal, for others it's the desire to fix a clearly broken individual. There are in-betweens and of course this is subjective and depends on the person. Act 2 spoilers ahead. Where my personal interest comes from is how good Larian communicated the tragedy of faith and what a cult can do to a person. Kar'niss is a creature that has been broken by not one God, but two. Lolth broke him physically, the Absolute broke him mentally. His entire identity has been lost to a deity to the point he raises her in his speech. Referring to her as "Majesty" and "Queen", two terms you don't really hear anyone else address her as, he has elevated her to his final savior and leader. He also often refers to himself as "we" and "us", cementing him as part of the hive mind rather than holding any individuality of his own. When he does refer to himself as "I", it's mostly to show further loyalty to the Absolute, to maintain a position of importance in his fractured mind. Cults are notorious for targeting the most vulnerable in society as they are the easiest to mold and manipulate to their doctrine. The fact that goblins are one of the main races that fall to the Absolute's influence is telling in that regard, as they are often dismissed by the other races. Kar'niss was ripe for the picking, an easy target to lure into her arms. No doubt he was found shortly after Lolth twisted him into a drider and banished him, he didn't stand a chance.

Not even taking those elements into account, Kar'niss came from a society that is infamous for cruelty and violence, especially toward males of their species. Drow greatest hits include, but are not limited to: -Killing their young if they are not aesthetically pleasing enough. In other words, ugly. -Sacrificing every third born son to Lolth.

-If a male finds the favor of two competing females, it often doesn't end well for the male. The rival woman will kill the male and chuck his dead body into his opponents bedchambers, just for the sake of being petty.

-Love and emotions of any sort are in short supply, if not outright unseen as a general rule. The nature of drow to backstab and seek to rise in the ranks makes it near impossible to be anything other than fierce and domineering.

With these things in mind, it's easy to assume that Kar'niss had a turbulent upbringing and likely suffered untold abuse from many around him. It's not to say that good or reasonable drow don't exist, it's just not commonplace in a Lolthite society. Unfortunately, the game doesn't give us a great deal to go on as far as his past. What little he reveals only happens after he's dead, and even then its really a cliffs notes version. What we do know is that his devotion is intense and unwavering. He's willing to die for the Absolute because in his mind the Absolute are the only ones who care about him. We even see fellow followers talk down to him, dismiss him, and verbally eye-roll the guy. To them, his fanaticism is over the top and they follow the same God he does.

All told, this leads me to the conclusion that Kar'niss has never, or rarely, known true compassion in his entire life. He's been used as a puppet for one deity or another, and likely mocked or cast aside even when he did everything right. It doesn't surprise me that there are folks who desire a romance option, or barring that a side venture to break him free of the Absolute's hold. We don't know if Kar'niss did terrible things in his past, or where his moral compass sits as his entire personality revolves around God. But I'd love to know, and I crave more background on him in one form or another.

I've spent too much time thinking about different paths that could happen in-game. I also understand it's incredibly unlikely he'll ever become a companion. The sheer amount of time and resources needed to give a character a satisfying arc is likely more than Larian can do with other constraints, but maybe we'll be pleasantly surprised. So Kar'niss lovers, platonic, romantic, or everything in-between...I gotchu fam. We stan the spooder bby. Someone get that man a blanket and a nice mug of hot cocoa. And a cult de-programming kit, one of those would be good.

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #bg3 #drider #karniss #baldurs gate 3 #drow #early morning ramblings #this entire post was the long way of saying “I can fix him” #no judgement to the ones who want an ass full of web #act 2 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #my writing

[wat-da-feck]

Once upon a time, in a land filled with magical creatures and enchanting wonders, there lived a humble pineapple named Philip. Philip was known for his vibrant colors and sweet taste, but deep inside, he harbored feelings of envy and resentment towards others.

In this same land, there was a remarkable banana named Benny. Unlike any other banana, Benny possessed the extraordinary ability to fly. With his golden wings, he soared through the skies, spreading joy and laughter wherever he went. Benny's heart was filled with compassion, and he used his powers to rescue animals in need, becoming a beloved hero in the eyes of all.

However, Philip couldn't bear to see Benny receive all the attention and admiration. Consumed by jealousy, he hatched a devious plan to steal Benny's wings and bring him down from the skies.

One sunny day, as Benny was busy rescuing a group of stranded birds, Philip seized the opportunity. With a swift movement, he snuck up behind Benny and plucked his wings right off his back. Instantly, Benny's ability to fly was taken away, leaving him grounded and devastated.

As news of Benny's misfortune spread, his bird friends, who had witnessed the treacherous act, felt a deep sense of sadness and anger. They couldn't bear to see their beloved hero suffer. Determined to right the wrong, they set off on a quest to retrieve Benny's stolen wings.

Through forests, over mountains, and across vast oceans, the loyal bird friends embarked on a perilous journey. Facing countless obstacles, they remained steadfast in their mission, drawing strength from their love for Benny and their belief in the power of friendship.

Finally, after days of searching, they discovered Philip's hiding place deep within a dense jungle. With bravery and determination, they confronted the jealous pineapple and demanded the return of Benny's wings.

Realizing the error of his ways, Philip felt a pang of guilt and remorse. Deep down, he had always admired Benny's selflessness and courage. Overwhelmed with regret, he handed back the stolen wings and begged for forgiveness.

With his wings returned, Benny's spirits soared once again. He thanked his loyal bird friends for their unwavering support and promised to continue using his powers for good. Together, they flew back to their land, where Benny resumed his role as the cherished hero, inspiring hope and spreading joy wherever he went.

The story of Benny and Philip serves as a reminder of the importance of perseverance in the face of adversity. It teaches us that envy and jealousy can lead to destructive actions, but it also highlights the transformative power of friendship and forgiveness. Ultimately, Benny's story shows us that even when our wings are taken away, the support of loved ones can lift us high above the clouds and help us soar once more.

#short story #banana

[dahlia-coccinea]

Wuthering Heights - Chapter 4

It seems strange that Nelly would tell Lockwood that Heathcliff does not live at the Grange because he is cheap. I think it would be obvious to her that he lives at the Heights because of the connection he has to it. Not that he isn’t also cheap, but I don’t think it is believable that is his main motivation. Perhaps what she says is just born out of bitterness because she wishes Cathy could be at Thrushcross with her? Her alliance is made clear moments later when she tells Lockwood that, “Hareton is the last of them (the Earnshaws), as our Miss Cathy is of us—I mean, of the Lintons.” 

Heathcliff being brought home by Mr. Earnshaw seems a little less strange when you consider how similar Nelly’s situation is. She may work at the house but she is also allowed to eat and play with Hindley and Catherine and Mr. Earnshaw promises to bring her back apples and pears along with the gifts for his children. I think Heathcliff has some aspects that allow for him to become more doted on than Nelly, such as, having no family fulfilling that role, and possibly because he is a boy and Hindley seems to already be somewhat of a disappointment to Mr. Earnshaw. Also in a strongly class-conscious society, it is apparent that by birth Nelly is beneath the Earnshaws. Even though one could easily be similarly prejudiced against Heathcliff’s utter lack of established social status, and his ethnic background (and many are) - it seems Mr. Earnshaw’s pity on the extreme state that he finds the “starving” and “houseless” child outweigh any possible apprehension and cause him to act with compassion. 

In the last chapter discussion, I mentioned that Catherine does show genuine affection for her father, besides just nostalgia, and I think that Nelly says, “often did little Cathy ask when he (Mr. Earnshaw) would be home” and that “the children got tired of running down to the gate to look” is a good example. Even it is partially because they’re waiting on the gifts he has promised them, it is a pretty typical father/child bond. 

This chapter gives us the most clues as to Heathcliff’s origins. Some points that I’ve mentioned before, that he has little enough experiences with English Nelly says he only “repeated over and over again some gibberish that nobody could understand.” But also a large detractor that the idea that everyone really knows that he’s Hindley’s and Catherine’s half-brother - Nelly does say she knows his whole story, “except where he was born, and who were his parents.”

I’ve always thought Catherine’s initial response to Heathcliff is kind of funny. Nelly says:

“Cathy, when she learned the master had lost her whip in attending on the stranger, showed her humour by grinning and spitting at the stupid little thing; earning for her pains a sound blow from her father, to teach her cleaner manners. They entirely refused to have it in bed with them, or even in their room; and I had no more sense, so I put it on the landing of the stairs, hoping it might be gone on the morrow.”

By the time Nelly returns:

“Miss Cathy and he were now very thick; but Hindley hated him: and to say the truth I did the same; and we plagued and went on with him shamefully: for I wasn’t reasonable enough to feel my injustice, and the mistress never put in a word on his behalf when she saw him wronged.”

In the first few years after Heathcliff's arrival, Nelly does admit to persecuting him along with Hindley. It’s details like this that make me question Nelly's later complaints about the way Catherine treats her or that she pinches her during Edgar’s visit years later. Yes, at that point Nelly is clearly in the role of a servant and below Catherine, but it can't be ignored that while she is 14 and Catherine and Heathcliff are 6/7 years old and she admits she mistreats at least Heathcliff, and sides with Hindley who regularly beats him. Not that it makes Catherine’s behavior right, but as I have mentioned before, she grows up in a house where corporal punishment is the norm and most people around her do antagonize and abuse her and Heathcliff. I think considering that she is really quite tame and she isn’t actually malicious where she easily could be.

We learn in Chapter 4, many of the dynamics that I think play into how Nelly and Heathcliff interact in the years to come, Hindley and his motivations, and also how Heathcliff develops from a child into the man we later know. Nelly (not for the last time) paints this image of Heathcliff as almost a curse saying that “from the very beginning, he bred bad feeling in the house.” His mere presence seems to destroy the natural bond between father and son: “the young master (Hindley) had learned to regard his father as an oppressor rather than a friend, and Heathcliff as a usurper of his parent’s affections and his privileges; and he grew bitter with brooding over these injuries.” 

In the most human descriptions that she gives him, where he is not depicted as foreign and strange, or a curse of some kind, she still doesn’t say anything truly kind about him. When the family catches the measles and Nelly cares for the children, Heathcliff, the illest of the three, Nelly says:

“...he would have me constantly by his pillow: I suppose he felt I did a good deal for him, and he hadn’t wit to guess that I was compelled to do it. However, I will say this, he was the quietest child that ever nurse watched over. The difference between him and the others forced me to be less partial. Cathy and her brother harassed me terribly: he was as uncomplaining as a lamb; though hardness, not gentleness, made him give little trouble.”

It’s such a complicated clash of traits we hear about Heathcliff. He is just a child, nothing supernatural about him, and illness and suffering cause a simple human desire for someone to care for him. She says he is a “sullen, patient child; hardened, perhaps, to ill-treatment.” He “said precious little, and generally the truth,” which should be a good quality, though Nelly tempers this by saying:

“I wondered often what my master saw to admire so much in the sullen boy; who never, to my recollection, repaid his indulgence by any sign of gratitude. He was not insolent to his benefactor, he was simply insensible; though knowing perfectly the hold he had on his heart, and conscious he had only to speak and all the house would be obliged to bend to his wishes.”

Then we have the story of Hindley’s and Heathcliff’s fight over the horses that Mr. Earnshaw bought at the parish fair. It seems to foreshadow much of his plotting for revenge, his ability to suffer greatly to achieve a goal, and his unwavering focus on that which he desires. 

We see the extent of Hindley’s early hatred of Heathcliff. In the exchange, he calls him a “dog,” a “Gipsy,” a “beggarly interloper,” and finally “imp of Satan.” We hear from Heathcliff that he’s beaten him three times that week, which has left his arm is bruised to the shoulder, that he threatens to throw Heathcliff out upon Mr. Earnshaw’s death, and during the scene throws an iron weight directly at Heathcliff (who must be only 10 or so), as well as push him under a horse with the hope of it trampling him to death. 

After Hindley storms off Nelly says: 

“I persuaded him (Heathcliff) easily to let me lay the blame of his bruises on the horse: he minded little what tale was told since he had what he wanted. He complained so seldom, indeed, of such stirs as these, that I really thought him not vindictive: I was deceived completely, as you will hear.”

A great example of the complexity of his character and such a foreboding end to this chapter!

@astrangechoiceoffavourites

#wuthering heights #wh reread 2021 #wh reread #chapter 4 #emily bronte #tw abuse

[twoidiotwriters1]

Déjà Vu (Or are we losing our minds?) IX -Modern!Shirbert

Words: 2,967

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Nine: Captain Shirley and Prince Blythe.

Try not

       to

        forget me.

Gilbert woke up with the sea breeze hitting his face, the rotten fish also accompanying him on this journey, though he had no time for feeling sick, he had to find his way to Captain Shirley's room. It was easy if we were talking about finding it, harder if you take into account the fact that no one else could see him enter.

Why was he doing this in the first place? Easy.

Captain Shirley was the most vicious human to ever sail across the seven seas, and she had stolen something valuable from Gilbert's father, who was none other that the King of Prince Edward Island. Gilbert, being the impulsive young prince he was, decided to infiltrate the lines of this redheaded pirate in order to retrieve his father's treasure and take it back to safety.

There was a slight issue with this plan, though. Gilbert was infatuated with Shirley, and each day on that ship only meant a day more closer to irrevocably fall in love with her.

As he silently moved through the dark and cold night, Gilbert heard most of the tripulation downstairs, getting drunk or loudly snoring on their hammocks, he saw the dim candle light coming from the door in front of him, and he quietly opened it.

That was it, all he had to do was to kill the Captain and take back his father's crown back to where it belonged. He entered, the enticing smell of wine and dry flowers filling his lungs, he tightened his grip on the dagger he was holding and urged himself to move forward.

There was a curtain dividing one corner of the room, it looked light and thin, and the shadow of Captain Shirley was delicately drawn across it, she appeared to be laying on some kind of fancy bed for one, though he could hear a strange noise similar to moving water coming from it.

As he stepped closer, he heard her low breathing, and confident that she wouldn't wake up on time to avoid her imminent ending, he decided to take a moment before ending her life.

However, as he peaked through one side of the fabric covering her bed, Gilbert's eyes widened in disbelief. He didn't know how he managed not to scream, or even fall to his knees and cry, begging God for mercy and forgiveness after what he saw:

Captain Shirley was indeed fast asleep, but she wasn't on a bed, she was on a wide bathtub, long enough so it could cover most of her body, water was spilling thanks to the movements that the ship suffered from the nightly waves, but down where her legs were supposed to be, all Gilbert could see was a fish tail.

But that couldn't be a fish tail, because it was attatched to a woman! Or that could not possibly be a woman, that had to be... a siren, a mermaid.

Gilbert's stomach churned in horror as he remembered the horrid tales he'd heard during childhood, but he also found comfort in finding the reason why his heart had fallen victim of this creature's looks. It was obvious now, no human could have eyes like hers.

Though he was terrified beyong belief, he took in at every little detail he could catch, it isn’t every day that you get to see a real mermaid:

Her hair looked like fire, one that could live underwater and swing back and forth under the tides, her skin was white and freckled, like a snowy field with dry leaves of its trees and bushes. Her tail, though intimidating and hard to get used to, was of a charming pale blue, like looking at an early sky forever reflecting on her scales.

In her body Gilbert found the elements coexisting and sharing their home within every inch. Could she really be considered a monster when all she was built of was pure beauty?

Deep and raspy voices from outside the room caused Gilbert to quickly found his way to the door, waiting against it ready for any sort of attack that never came.

"We do it tonight," Said one of the voices. "Captain Shirley's a good leader all right, but she ain't gonna last forever. Remember the rumors."

"Rumors are rumors," The other man replied. "Do you really believe that she's some kind of creature that will abandon us as soon as we get too close to Green Gables Island? Wake up, Sloane! Mermaids aren't real!"

Gilbert gulped, his eyes going back to the curtain covering Shirley's real identity.

"Creature or no creature, we're taking her out," the other growled, "she's bad news. Willy and I have taken a decision, and the rest agrees, we're getting rid of Shirley, she's cursed."

"You're just a filthy traitor, that's it! Don't think I believe your little story, we know you're angry because she refused your advances, you're desperate to show her a lesson, aren't you? Heh! She'll have you begging for mercy in no–"

There was a sudden wrestling sound between the two man and a body crashing against the very same door Gilbert was standing, he prayed for Captain Shirley to be a heavy sleeper.

"I'd keep my opinions to myself, Jerry boy, if you don't want to end up at the bottom of the sea, sharing the same fate as our captain... she may give you a nice treatment, but I assure you, sirens get cranky when they starve."

Gilbert listened as Jerry pushed his way out of Sloane's grip and waited until they sounded far away. They were going to kill the captain and this had nothing to do with no curse, it was merely about a man having no honor, but what could he expect from a pirate?

New plan, he was going to search for the crown and then leave the rest to the tripulation, surely the mutiny was the perfect excuse in case some objects went missing from the Captain's room.

Something was bothering him though, and it was his moral compass.

Was he really going to let the tripulation kill her like that?

Well you were going to kill her moments ago, He thought bitterly.

Drowning in uncertainty Gilbert got closer to the bathtub, watching her lay there with her eyes closed. Only then he realized she was fully naked, he hadn't processed it since the fish tail was far more distracting, the scales only reach her sides and covered some parts of her chest, but she still had a human chest. Embarrassed and overwhelmed Gilbert turned around and weighed his options.

He could walk out of there with his father's treasure and never look back, or he could help the woman that was known across the world as this wickedly intelligent, viciously skilled pirate, survive the mutiny and have a new helping hand on his side that would assure him to return home safe and sound.

He convinced himself that this was a matter of clever negotiation and nothing else. No feelings of attachments whatsoever.

So he woke her up.

"Captain?" His voice came out weak and fearful, so he tried again. "Captain Shirley!"

Her eyes snapped open, quickly grabbing the gun that was hidden on the side of the tub Gilbert couldn't see. He flinched and closed his eyes, ready to get killed, but nothing came.

He opened his eyes and found the gun very close to his nose, the Captain's hand was unwavering and her eyes resembled the most vicious of hurricanes.

"What are you doing?" She asked in a low, dangerous voice.

"Good evening, Captain," Gilbert gulped, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm her to save you."

“Save me?" She let out sarcastically. Not even caring that he'd found her in such a vulnerable state, if anything, now that she was awake Gilbert was having a hard time trying to remember why did he ever thought she ever needed help.

"Sloane and company are planning a mutiny, they’ll attack later tonight and if you don't follow me they'll kill you."

"Oh, please," She replied. "Are you really expecting me to believe that, boy?"

"I'm only telling the truth," He frowned. "I can't do anything to convince you besides maybe the fact that I'm holding a dagger, like you can clearly see, and I didn't try to cut your throat before waking you up, did I?"

"No, because you're not that stupid," He felt a sting of annoyance at her retort. "Sloane's been on this ship for years, why would he try to kill me now?"

"I heard him speak to Jerry... he uh– I think his interests may be a bit... compromised… after the last talk you two had."

Shirley wasn't one to blush at such bold statements, not from embarrassment anyway. However, anger was a whole different thing. Her face shifted from understanding to tension, to a new calculating glare.

"I don't know you," She tightened the grip on her gun. "This is not the way men like you are meant to act. Who are you?"

"Men like me?" He asked back.

"Pirates," She spat. "In all my years of leading the Cordelia, no man has ever showed a glimpse of decency. Let alone to a woman they barely know."

"You're my captain," He replied in confusion. "Aren't I supposed to respect you?"

She blinked, her frown only increasing as her tail swung to a side, leaving the water and filling the room with a splashing noise. Almost instantly two perfect and fuctioning legs were hanging from the edge of the tub, and now she looked definitely naked to him.

Gilbert turned around instantly, the Captain let out a short and charming laugh.

"Boy you do not turn your back when someone's holding a gun in front of you!" She exclaimed. "You must be truly too new in this scene, why in the hell are you mingling with pirates?"

"Why is a siren leading them to victories?" He still has his back to her. "Aren't you supposed to... uh..."

"Finish that sentence, boy."

"I would rather not to," He said quietly.

He didn't hear her move, but somehow she'd circled the tub and was now standing in front of him again (thankfully now wearing a silky robe to cover her human form), the gun finding its way to his chest, and the cold metal causing him to jump back.

"I said," She repeated calmly, "finish that sentence."

"I'm sorry, Captain," He started, trying not to sweat. Were mermaids capable of hearing a man's heartbeat? "My father used to tell me stories about the sirens and their... unusual habits."

"Unusual indeed," She smirked. "All true as well."

Okay, now he was scared.

"All those treasures, all those stones you humans keep like they belong to you…” She started, “They all come from nature, and some of them belonged to us first. Some of my peers decided that eating the humans were the easiest way to get rid of you but you’re smart enough to learn not to repeat past mistakes. Soon enough you were avoiding our islands, and we were abandoned to our luck by our rulers. I'd had enough, if you can fight it, you can at least learn to control it, so I did.” Her eyes had a bit of sadness in them that she quickly covered with her usual glare.

"Sloane knows what you are, he’ll kill you…"

"Sloane was an accident," She frowned. "That nasty rat! Thought that after all these years under my protection he had at least a bit of loyalty towards me, but you humans have flimsy minds and those pesky emotions... I should've seen it coming, you're all liars. He got obsessed with who I really was and when I told him I cannot have those human feelings I guess he took it as an insult. Men are completely empty-headed.”

He was certainly insulted by this, but she still had her gun pointing at him so he decided not to make any comments.

"Why are you helping me?" She asked. "If you, like Sloane, are expecting to gain my favor..."

"No," He quickly responded. “It’s… it’s true, I'm not a pirate. I’m not like them.”

The hand holding the gun lowered, but only by half an inch.

"What are you?"

"I'm the son of King Blythe."

She froze in place, her eyes widening in shock and then... she laughed. She laughed and lowered her gun, walking away from him.

"A Prince!" She said in amusement. "Are you trying to teach dear father a lesson? Is this your way of showing him you’re not just a boy?"

"You stole his crown," He replied with more courage than the one he actually felt. "I'm here to take it back."

"So you were going to kill me," She smiled. "See? All of you, liars."

"I'm not!" He defended. "Listen, just give me the crown, we can make a deal."

"I don't make any deals with fake royalty," She eyed him up. "A human prince comes into my ship and demands I give him back the treasures his people stole from others. Not only that, but he promises he won't kill me if I cooperate! How charming must be, to have such an empty and conceited mind…”

Gilbert was about to answer when a lamp was thrown into the room through one of the windows, shattered glass spread across the floor along with flames and Shirley's mouth fell open in outrage.

"I told you!" Gilbert yelled in irritation. "We've lost precious time! It's too late now!"

"Get out of my way!" She yelled over the banging sounds her former men trying to break the door. She ran over to where her sword was and took it with her dominant hand while the other held her gun expertly.

"You're gonna need my help!” Gilbert insisted.

"Oh please, pretty boy," She scoffed. “You know nothing about me."

"I've done proper training, I can fight!"

"You won't last!"

"You have no one else!" They were shouting at this point, the door was going down splinter by splinter and lightining was falling from the sky, announcing the callous storm. "Give me a sword!"

"You'll kill me!" She replied. Her hair was still damp and every time she moved tiny drops would land on Gilbert's clothes. "I won't die like this!"

"I won't kill you if you give me the crown!" He growled. "You can keep everything else, I don't care for it! You're right, we steal, that's all we do, but I need that crown before winter!"

"Why?!"

"Because the King is dying!"

A harsh bang and one of the handgrips fell. The fire was spreading quickly and it was her against everyone on that ship. That could easily change though, she just had to trust the prince. Shirley groaned in frustration and ran over to were she kept her extra weapons, when she came back, it was with a second sword that she offered to him hastily.

"I'm going to regret this," She grumbled.

The door finally gave in, and as the dust and storm made its way into the room, she asked him:

"Ready, Prince of Blythe?"

"Yes," He lied.

As a large group of men ran into the room holding swords, guns, and knives, a dazzling lighting turned everything white, blinding him briefly.

____________________

Gilbert woke up.

Outside his room a second thunder caught his attention, there was a storm outside but he'd forgotten to close the window before going to bed and now the breeze was hitting his face fully. He got up, slightly dizzy from his sleepy state and with the memories of his dreams making everything confusing.

He touched his desk on his way back as if to make sure he was in his real room. The light from the street illuminated the place where Gilbert had been sleeping moments ago. Half of his covers were a little wet from the time the rain started and he was knocked unconscious by all the time he'd spent walking around town with Winne.

He pulled the covers out of his bed and left them on the floor, Mary would certainly be pissed the next morning if those covers ended up smelling, but he was too tired to care, he'd wash them later.

He crawled his way back and fell heavily on his pillow, the smell of dry roses raising like a faint reminder of this other world, this other life he'd shared with this striking redheaded pirate.

"The mermaid…” He mumbled, half asleep. His eyes widened, Gilbert sat up abruptly and repeated, this time in a much more shocked tone, “Pirate!"

____________________

"I'm..." Anne mumbled, half asleep. "I'm... Pirate!"

Her eyes opened lazily in the dark, her own voice had woken her up though she didn't remember what she'd said. In her phone the time said four in the morning and the sound coming from her window told her it was raining outside. It was too dark to see anything but what the lightning showed her from time to time whenever it blasted across the nightsky.

Anne sighed in contentment, this was her favorite weather to wake up to apart from that early morning bliss she could get from hearing the birds singing outside on the cherry tree every summer. What a treasure it was, to be able to experience these kinds of sounds and smells, and colors. How sad that the king wouldn't get to witness those in the near future...

Anne frowned as she caught her own thought. What was she talking about?

Her dream of course! -She turned once more on the bed, hiding under the covers- She's not going to remember all this tomorrow, of that she's sure… but what a nice dream though, the Prince was specially endearing.

Taglist.

@ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @fuckthisshitimoutyall @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​​ @little-boats-on-a-lake @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual

#twoidiots writing #anne with an e fanfic #anne with an e #anne shirley x gilbert blythe #anne shirley cuthbert #Gilbert Blythe #awae #shirbert #shirbert fanfic #DV fic

[ty-talks-comics]

Best of DC: Week of November 20th, 2019

Best of this Week: The Question: The Deaths of Vic Sage #1 - Jeff Lemire, Denys Cowan, Bill Sienkiewicz, Chris Sotomayor and Willie Schubert

The Question is one of the best Objectivist heroes.

By extension, that also includes Rorschach since he’s a pastiche of good old Vic Sage himself and it’s easy to see why people gravitate towards them so much. The idea of Objectivism is… iffy to say the least, but being rational, utilizing one's free will and choosing to act in one’s own self interest can be seen as good qualities, especially in the ways that Vic and Rorschach operate. They have good, unwavering moral compasses and do their best to persuade others to their reality.

But their strengths are also their greatest weaknesses.

When Steve Ditko created The Question back in the 60s, he was all into Ayn Rand’s philosophy and that carried over heavily into Vic Sage’s characterization which saw him use almost any means necessary to keep Hub City’s chaos at bay, even going so far as to let criminals live or die on their own merits if Sage left them in precarious situations (Once leaving a man in a sewer drain and calling the cops to either find him or his body.). He was not a good person, but he was what the city needed to survive, much like Rorschach who chose to die rather than live in Ozymandias’ world built on a lie.

This book continues to build off of that characterization while mixing in elements from Dennis O’Neil and Denys Cowan’s 1980s run with the character and brings in his cast of characters and modernizes Hub City’s issues, hopefully to the delight of those wanting to see a return of everyone’s favorite conspiracy theorist/detective/agent of justice. Honestly, it’s a damn good job.

The book begins with The Question savagely breaking up a prostitution ring operating out of the city. He smashes faces into walls, elbows a big guy in the face and when he runs out of people to hit, he turns to the Councilman of Hub City who just so happens to be one of the patrons of the seedy motel. In fear, the Councilman pleads with The Question to not kill him and he responds by pulling out a phone and recording as much as he can, he then elbows the Councilman in the head and steals his ring, hoping that it might help him with other cases. One of the prostitutes thanks The Question for his help, but he rebuffs her and essentially says that she has no future, but the innocent little girl does.

In just one scene we learn everything we need to know about this iteration of Vic Sage; while he’s not a murderer, it is implied that he may have killed before, but he also knows that getting evidence and ruining someone's life with their evil deed is just as effective as a bullet. Though he saved the lives of the prostitute and the child with her, he insults her by calling her a whore, but insists that the little girl be given to the soon to arrive police. It’s another Randian idea that he doesn’t feel sorry for those that have “ruined” their lives in his eyes and he even notes this when he speaks about how Hub City itself is rotten and dying.

Soon after the bust, Vic Sage appears on his news channel and grills Myra Fermin, a character from the O’Neil and Cowan run, on the activities of her brother - incumbent Mayor Wesley Fermin. This is a bit of a change from the O’Neil run as Wesley was Myra’s husband in that series, but Lemire seems to be doing this in an effort to showcase some kind of family loyalty between the two. Sage accuses Wesley of being the man behind Hub City’s wave of crime, linking him to video evidence from an “anonymous source” of the Councilman in the brothel and this catches Myra off guard.

He then continues by saying that the Councilman’s arrest wasn’t mentioned in the police report, obviously showing that they’re corrupt as all hell and when the cameras are cut off, she lambasts him for ambushing her with his accusations and he says that she lacks spine and that the longer she chooses to ignore things, the more complicit she becomes. When the family lawyer comes to take her away from Sage’s “slanderous accusations” and threatens a lawsuit. Vic asks Myra what happened to her that she has to hide behind a lawyer and she replies by saying she grew up, labeling Vic’s objectivism as childish.

In some ways it’s easy to agree with her that the world isn’t necessarily black and white, but at the same time, it’s because of that that Vic’s able to operate in the way that he does. Of course, this doesn’t necessarily mean that either of them are right as Hub City is still suffering and neither of their actions seem to have changed much in that regard. It’s a sad reality that only Vic is able to see since it’s so plain in his face, but when his only solutions are to beat people up and occasionally have evidence that can easily be dismissed by bought off judges, it’s clear that cynicism would win out in the end.

Denys Cowan really does remind me of why the early Question series was so memorable as his style his only improved from the old days. His signature style of hatch shading, Sienkiewicz’s inks and Sotomayor’s colors really set the noir tone of the story. Though it takes place in the modern day, it looks like a 90s book set back in the 50s or 60s and I love that about this. Cowan manages to pull so much emotion out of a character whose most distinct feature is the fact that his mask has none. Vic Sage is angry, he’s tired of this shit and has been for a little while.

Sotomayor does an amazing job contrasting Sage’s double identities with The Question wearing his normal dark blue suit and orange undershirt and Vic Sage wearing a bright brown suit. This symbolizes the dual natures of the man himself, with one operating in the dark and other in the light. This is brought up when Vic goes to speak to his former Chemistry teacher, Tot. Tot is one of the few people that knows Vic is The Question and as they discuss Hub City’s need for Vic Sage more than The Question right now.

Cowan’s art is absolutely beautiful in these scenes. As I will continually state, everything feels very noir-inspired, grimy and dak. Chris Sotomayor is able to beautifully use all of his colors to illustrate the gravity of the situation and show how easily Vic is able to move between his two personas. Using the compound that affixes the featureless mask to his face, a puff of smoke is created and that allows for Sotomayor to transition the blue into brown and vice versa through the scene. It’s amazing to look at when combined with Sienkiewicz dark inks. What’s even better is that the smoke almost forms a question mark in some thematic fun.

Vic says that The Question can do things that Vic Sage can’t and it’s debatable as to whether or not that’s always going to be a good thing. Throughout this scene they also discuss the ring that Vic took from the Councilman and how he seems to have some sort of odd memory or attraction to the symbol on it. While we’re left in the dark initially, I have some speculation as to what it could possibly be and how it may tie in to another incarnation of The Question or if it’s just something completely new and interesting. Sage is convinced that Fermin is involved with it somehow and the conspiracy begins as he notes that Fermin’s lawyer had a similar ring.

When Vic gets back to his office, he starts obsessively drawing the symbol almost from memory and then he questions how he can Google search it...then he does just that, commenting on how the internet has taken the fun out of detective work. It’s a funny crack, especially as he finds information that he absolutely needed and starts building a board for every piece he has, focusing on an old society that used to call Hub City home.

One of the best bits of the book have to be The Questions inner monologue throughout each page. He details, moment by moment, his actions and the actions of two other occurrences at the same time. It feels very Ditko-esque with just a little bit of Rorschach omnipresence thrown in there for good measure, though Sage mentions how he was actually oblivious to the other two events. Likely meaning that he’s writing a journal of the important things shortly after everything’s gone down.

As he enters the former home of the Hub City Elder Society, Myra accidentally walks in on her brother in the middle of putting the screws to the Councilman and in another part of the city a white police officer shoots an unarmed black man. We don’t get to see much more of the other events as the book then mostly spirals into a nightmare for Vic.

Cowan’s art takes a dark turn as The Question walks through the dark tunnel, discovering the symbol on the wall and starting to see horrific visions. Eventually, he stumbles upon the bodies of the Elder Society and a dark hole in the middle of the cave. Cowan and Sienkiewicz turn this into a horror show as the skeletons are strewn across the cave and The Questions visibly hit with fear, wondering if he should let his identity slip away and let the darkness tell him his real name. 

Sienkiewicz earns his money through his dark inks in these pages and the few panels he’s given to illustrate nightmares on the level that he did with The New Mutants. The lines are scratchy, dark, sometimes incomprehensible and I absolutely loved them. At one point we get a close up on The Question’s blank face as done by Coan and the following panel is one of those nightmares - a jagged, green face begging “Charlie Victor Szasz” for help. The panel that follows sees The Question jolt back, his body language being the only thing that betrays his blank face as we can clearly see how afraid he is.

He runs out of the tunnel monologuing about how fear pushes one away from the truth and how he only knew fear, especially after having found a blank face mask similar to his own in the cave, only… it was far older than he. Tot calls him soon after and tells him that he’s been trying to reach him for three hours, much to Vic’s surprise. The city is in chaos after the shooting death of David Fuller, the black man mentioned earlier, and there are riots in the streets. Vic’s talk show would have been airing during the time The Question was in the tunnel and the City NEEDED his commentary, but whatever’s going on with the Elder Society and the mask demanded his attention more.

It’s astounding just how bad Hub City was able to get in a few short hours as Cowan portrays the riot as deafening and violent with Vic standing on one side of the street with no violence and the other side being a madhouse with car windows being smashed, bricks being thrown and molotovs flying in the background. At the same time, Myra wasn’t supposed to see what her brother was doing and unfortunately, she picked the wrong time to attain a moral high ground to things. Wesley has her detained in the room to decide which side she’s on, especially knowing that she’s turned a blind eye to his activities in the past.

Vic goes to visit his friend Richard Dragon, the man who taught him how to fight. While he drives, he listens to Wesley Fermin’s statement on the shooting and Fermin tries to deflect any blame from the Officer in question even though there is clear video evidence, he calls it “supposed video evidence.” He comments on the Officer’s history on the HCPD and says it’s too early to lay blame on anyone, claiming that the officer had just cause to “defend” himself. The riots only get more heated.

Vic and Dragon’s prior history is acknowledged, even Vic’s time as a man of Zen is brought up before we learn that he dismissed the “new-age bullshit” in favor of just hitting people. Dragon pours him a cup of tea and Vic tries to seek answers about things he’s seeing, calling them more than visions - memories maybe. Vic notes that all of this has an occult “mumbo-jumbo” feel to it and says he doesn’t believe in superstitious nonsense to which Dragon replies that he must feel the same way about metempsychosis. Before Sage is able to question him about what that means, he feels the effects of whatever drug Dragon put in his drink and he’s sent into a colorful rainbow of a dreamscape, waking up in the past without his face.

I love the fact that Denys Cowan returned to a character that he really helped popularize back when he was first being showcased at DC Comics and Bill Sienkiewicz does an amazing job with the inks in this issue, really helping set the grimy tone. Chris Sotomayor knocked it out of the park with his coloring to give this book life. Of course, the book wouldn’t have been nearly as good if not for Willie Schubert’s expert lettering as well.

This book was an amazingly fun and dark read that really returned The Question back to… at least his 80s roots while still acknowledging the characters past and potentially some of the unexplored parts of his New 52 self. Jeff Lemire does a good job of reintroducing Vic Sage as a nightly news host as well as his supporting cast from Tot to Myra and Richard Dragon. He’s still a good detective and conspiracy theorist, only this time, he’s going to have to go to places that he normally wouldn’t.

As it tends to happen, I’m sure that Book Two will be the absolute best issue of the series and will give us some insight over the many times The Question has lived or died and that’s a mystery that I’m sure Vic Sage would love to solve and find a rational answer for. I honestly also hope that we get some clarity on the other reboots and retcons that he’s endured over time as that seems to be one of the main themes of the book. Vic Sage isn’t enough, so the Question is the other half, but if the Question is no one, then who is he?

#the question #vic sage #charles victor szasz #dc comics #dc black label #jeff lemire #denys cowan #bill sienkiewicz #chris sotomayor #comics #objectivism #steve ditko

[dapper-ships-herself]

@dokiqx @raudrfox2

The answer changes a bit depending on the s/i, so I'm gonna start with more general and like personal and then go into my s/is.

Dazai and I both, let's say wrestle with certain feelings about life and the world around us. When it feels like you're adrift and very little matters, it helps a great deal to have someone to ground you, and that's Dazai and I for each other. When the world is cruel, we can reach out our hands and feel the warmth, and through that feel safe and real. Neither of us are used to letting ourselves be fully vulnerable to the people around us, we're always masking something, maybe not for entirely the same reasons, but we are. Our relationship is when we both let those walls fall bit by bit, letting go of fear and trepidation. He never even thought he could feel real love before, both of us had thought we weren't worthy of it.

And Dazai is a genius, he's amazing and confident in his abilities, he can see straight through pretty much anyone, so I think why would he even want me, I'm so boring and predictable, I'm not a fan of taking risks and putting myself out there. But Dazai sees all my good qualities, he appreciates my strong empathy and my compassion, he sees how even though I struggle with my own worth I put so much worth into the lives around me, and I have a fun way of thinking about a lot of things, I'm creative bright even when I think I'm not. I become like a fresh, sunny spring day for his soul. And Dazai, his hands are so stained and his mind so jaded, even as he works to redeem himself and be on the side that saves people, he thinks there's too much darkness to ever truly be washed away. But I know that even though he's done a lot of bad, what matters most is what he's doing now; he's trying so hard to be good, to move away from the darkness that only acted as a negative feedback loop for him, that was never good for a boy with a mind like his. He is actively trying to be a good man, and I remind him of that. Neither of us are ever going to be perfect, but that's fine when we're together through our flaws. And through it all, we help each other see the beautiful things to live for.

Okay, now let's go into some specifics for the s/is.

ADA! Gillian has been through some pretty deep trauma with the loss of her little sister when they were kids, and at the time she thought she'd never ever recover from that and stay in the emotionless darkness forever, but with the help of Fukuzawa and Ranpo and the other agency members, she was able to heal. Despite the guilt and trauma that still sticks to her, how easy it would be to write the world off as simply cruel and uncaring, that's not her style. She loves the world, she loves the people in it, she knows that there's darkness but that only means that the rest of them should try their hardest to spread as much love and compassion as they can to balance that out. To Dazai, her unwavering light is strange but so calming. She's so strong in her determination to protect her family and everyone and everything that needs saving, it really touches something in him. She teaches him that it's okay, that they deserve to laugh and love and live, and she helps show him how to actively view the world for it's good parts. Even if someday it's hard, some days she's sad and can't forget the past, some days she tries very hard to push away the anger that festers in her at the unfairness that abounds, she still tries and now they can stand by each other's sides and try together. And he also knows what it's like to suffer and lose the one person who's most important, and he helps her confront the guilt that still clings to her, in fact that's something mutual. And she also, even though she accepts and appreciates her ability for how it lets her help people, it's also an ability that takes away a person's free will and can cause a lot of destruction, and she is afraid of the inherent evilness of it, and though Dazai respects how she's made the concious choice to only use it to help people, he sees her fear and helps her accept it.

Mafia! Gillian and Dazai probably have the most complicated relationship of all. Neither really wanted friends or saw the use of them, but they became each other's first real friend after he joins the mafia. They connect and resonate in a much stronger and more natural way than either were really prepared for; and then they were part of the quartet with Ango and Oda too, and she loved them all. She could be quoted as saying the three of them were probably the only things keeping her sane in the Port Mafia. And then she went away on a mission for a few weeks, no contact with her friends, and suddenly that little slice of joy she had was shattered, Oda was killed, Ango had been a double agent the whole time, and Dazai had abandoned her without so much as a good bye, much less and explanation. It sent her to a dark place for a while. She wanted to hate Dazai, and she certainly felt bitter, but she couldn't bring herself to hate him; how could she, really. She disliked being in the Port Mafia, but not only does she feel she'd have no where else to go, that if she left she'd be leaving her father, Ougai, aka the only person who's ever seen to genuinely want her around and stay that way, but her ability is literally to control darkness and too much light literally causes her pain and discomfort, it's clear to her that she was born to forever stay in the world of darkness and never be able to stand in the light. When she and Dazai eventually meet again four years after he left the mafia, there's a lot of complicated feelings too work through. She's bitter and angry and can't understand why he'd leave her like that if their friendship really meant anything; Dazai thought it was the right move at the time, he justified it to himself by reasoning that he knew she felt chained to the mafia and he had to leave quickly and cleanly in order to successfully rid himself of his dark past, he couldn't risk waiting for her to come back from her mission and having to convince her. But, really, he was afraid. After all, he's convinced that everything he desires will slip through his fingers the moment he obtains it. If he tried to hold on to the happiness she brought him and selfishly took her with him, he'd only bring her ruin some other way, and he wasn't deserving of her. He genuinely does regret it though, and it's not easy for him to admit that he was wrong but he knows that this is one instance where he was so terribly wrong. They have to work through these feelings in order to get anywhere, and she also has to realize that she does have the capability to step into the light, which she does partially with Dazai's help. There's a lot of fighting through the bullshit to finally be together.

Jekyll! Gillian takes the stuff mentioned earlier about always masking some part of ourselves to the extreme. Her ability, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, literally manifests her jaded view of the world into a physical creature of chaos, aka Hyde. And she rejects Hyde hardcore, that's why she's so unstable, destructive, and difficult to control, as well as hates her in return. She puts on the sugariest of sweet faces to try and mask this darkness, but Dazai is able to see it. He recognizes her mask easily, because he's basically doing the exact same thing. Eventually, after a lot of plot haha, they're able to help each other let go of their facades a bit and better accept themselves for who they are. They find this kinship in each other that honestly makes it easier for them to let go of their guards at least a little bit. They both hold a lot of jaded darkness with themselves, and they've both done some pretty terrible things and dirtied their hands, him in the mafia and her in the Order of the Clocktower, and they were both able to break away from that to try and become better people, and that's really nice for them to be able to relate to each other.

Circus! Gillian is, true to the name of her troupe the Circus of the Disillusioned, disillusioned about much of the world. It's dirty and cruel and not on your side. But, the circus always promoted family, the whole reason Voltaire formed the troupe was to attempt to not lay there and accept their wretched fate, that they as humans should try and create at least small pockets of a world more right and colorful. And this ideal stays with her. So yeah, they're both not huge fans of the world, but she has a more innate desire to change that, and she believes it's the duty of humans to fight through and not back away from the world through means like suicide (does that make sense? Trying to word it properly). So she actually is pretty, hm, disgusted is too strong of a word to use, she clashes a lot with Dazai's suicidal jokes. And she's too tsundere and jaded herself to outright be all flowery ~I will help you~, but that sort of discussion is a theme between them early on. Their abilities are foils for each other as well, Dazai is an ability nullifier, she's an ability amplifier, and that sort of reflects their views too.

Guild! Gillian at first seems to have the most innocent view of the world, after all she's rich and spoiled by her father, Francis. And she acts rather carefree too, like someone who's always been secure and never known difficulty. But she has known pain, and there's more than a naive rich girl beneath the surface. She's cunning and knows how to read people, she's been trained in the art of business since she was a child and had it drilled into her that you must never roll over for the world. She's also been taught that she's the daughter of the great Fitzgerald, which means she's meant for greatness too, and she hides it from her father but that's left her with a desperation to prove herself and live up to a great big shadow. But she's genuinely kind too, she loves the world for it's flaws and wants to support the people in it. So yeah, they're ways of thinking clash a bit, but at the same time they work perfectly in other aspects. At first, it's more like he's interested in her for the sort of contradictions she poses, but he starts to genuinely respect her and admire how she chooses to see kindness and work for it, how she takes things in to her own hands to make the world she sees in her mind real. And she respects him for his intellect and eventually for his resolve once she learns of his past. And respect is pretty much the bud that will bloom into love.

There's a lot of fighting to find the light in the dark and acceptance of ourselves.

I hope this was all coherent and not to rambly ha.

#self ship #selfship #self shipping #selfshipping #self insert #dapper answers #dazian #dapper inserts #dapper inserts: ada #dapper inserts: mafia #dapper inserts: jekyll #dapper inserts: circus #dapper inserts: guild

[thetruthseekerway]

The Cobbler’s Hajj

New Post has been published on http://www.truth-seeker.info/oasis-of-faith/the-cobblers-hajj/

The Cobbler’s Hajj

By Majd Arbil

The Cobbler’s Hajj

The Pilgrimage to Makkah is one of the essential elements of the Islamic faith. It is obligatory on all believers provided they have the financial capability and physical ability to endure the challenges of the pilgrimage.

According to Islamic tradition the Kaaba, a simple square cube structure in Makkah, was the first house of worship established to remind humanity of the One Supreme God. The structure was reconstructed by Prophet Abraham and his son Prophet Ishmael.

“And when We made the House (at Makkah) a destination for humankind and a sanctuary, (saying): Take as your place of worship the place where Abraham stood (to pray). And We imposed a duty upon Abraham and Ishmael, (saying): Purify My house for those who go around and those who meditate therein and those who bow down and prostrate themselves (in worship).” (Al-Baqarah 2:125)

The gathering of millions of faithful in Makkah during the days of the annual pilgrimage, Hajj is a fulfillment of Prophet Abram’s prayer.

“And, lo, Abraham prayed: “O my Sustainer! Make this a land secure, and grant its people fruitful sustenance – such of them as believe in God and the Last Day.” (Al-Baqarah 2:126)

The Pilgrimage to Makkah is a sign of supreme significance. It was Prophet Abraham’s unconditional commitment to God that led him to leave his wife Hagar and his infant son Ishmael in this desolated desert. Prophet Abraham was rewarded for his unwavering submission to God, by a promise from Him to make this uninviting land into a place of promise and plenty.

Muslims who visit Makkah for Hajj become part of God’s promise to Prophet Abraham.

Like any other article of faith, the pilgrimage can become meaningless if it is regarded as an end in itself rather than a means for the attainment of a meaningful life.

The following story reminds us of the spirit of Hajj

It is related that a noted Muslim scholar Abdullah bin Mubarak, had a dream while he was sleeping near the Kaaba.

Abdullah bin Mubarak saw two angels’ descend from the sky, and start talking to each other.

One of the angels asked the other: “Do you know how many people have come for Hajj this year?”

The other angel replied: “Six hundred thousand have come for Hajj.”

Abdullah bin Mubarak had also gone for Hajj that year.

The first angel asked: “How many people’s Hajj has been accepted?”

The second replied: “I wonder if anyone’s Hajj has been accepted at all.”

Abdullah bin Mubarak was grieved to hear that. He thought, “So many people have come from all over the world, crossing so many obstacles like rivers, jungles, mountains, suffered so many hardships, and meeting so many expenses. Would their effort be wasted? Allah does not let anyone’s effort go to waste”.

He had thought only so far when he heard the other angel speak: “There is a cobbler in Damascus. His name is Ali bin al-Mufiq. He could not come for Hajj, but Allah has accepted his intention of Hajj. Not only will he get the reward for Hajj, but because of him, all the Hajjis will be rewarded.

When Abdullah bin Mubarak woke up, he decided he would go to Damascus and meet that cobbler whose Hajj intentions carried such a lot of weight.

On reaching Damascus, Abdullah bin Mubarak inquired if anyone knew a cobbler named Ali bin al-Mufiq. The town people directed him to a house. When a man appeared from the house Abdullah bin Mubarak greeted him and asked his name. The man replied “Ali bin al-Mufiq”.

Abdullah bin Mubarak asked: “What do you do for a living?”

Ali replied: “I am a cobbler”. Then Ali asked the stranger’s name that had come looking for him.

Abdullah bin Mubarak was a very well-known scholar of Islam when Abdullah bin Mubarak introduced himself, the cobbler was anxious to find out why such a well-known scholar was seeking him out.

When Abdullah bin Mubarak asked Ali to tell him if he had made any plans to go for Hajj. Ali replied “For thirty years I have lived in the hope of performing the Hajj. This year I had saved enough to go for Hajj, but Allah did not will it, so I couldn’t make my intention translate into action.

Abdullah bin Mubarak was eager to find out how could this man’s Hajj be accepted and blessed for all the people who went for Hajj that year when he didn’t go for Hajj in the first place. While talking to the cobbler he could feel a certain purity in his heart. Islam regards greatness not in wealth or in power, but in civility, in good manners and the goodness of heart.

Abdullah bin Mubarak further asked: “why could you not go on Hajj?” In order not to disclose the reason, Ali again replied: “it was Allah’s will”.

When Abdullah bin Mubarak persisted, Ali revealed: “Once I went to see my neighbour’s house. His family was just sitting down for dinner. Although I was not hungry I thought my neighbour would invite me to sit down for dinner out of courtesy but I could see that my neighbour was grieved about something and wanted to avoid inviting me for dinner.

After some hesitation, the neighbour told me: “I am sorry I cannot invite you for food. We were without food for three days and I could not bear to see the pain of hunger of my children. I went out looking for food today and found a dead donkey. In my desperation, I cut out some meat from the dead animal and brought it home so that my wife could cook this meat. It is halal (lawful or permitted) for us because of our extreme condition of hunger, but I cannot offer it to you.”

Ali continued: “On hearing this, my heart bled with tears. I got up and went home, collected the three thousand dinars I had saved for Hajj, and gave my neighbour the money. I too had to go hungry but that was to save money for Hajj, but I thought helping my neighbour during his difficult times was more important. Although I still desire to go for Hajj if Allah wills.”

Abdullah bin Mubarak was greatly inspired by the cobbler’s story and told the cobbler of his dream.

God is merciful and shows mercy to those who do likewise to his creatures. This act of compassion on the part of the cobbler was so pleasing to God that it not only earned him the reward of Hajj but was extended to all the people who came for Hajj.

Hajj is a journey that can ignite the soul to be reminded of the time it was created and takes it beyond the dimensions of this life to the time it will meet the creator.

The sincere performance of Hajj can transcend a person’s day to day life into a spiritual awakening of the highest magnitude. A successful Hajj experience connects us to our creator and the greater compassion of humanity.

#Allah #Faith #Featured #God #hajj #Islam #kaabah #Makkah #Muslims #pilgrimage #The Cobbler’s Hajj

[captainkurosolaire]

Prompt #8 : The Agreement

 Overlooking the pushing tides eye closed and hands clenched before a fallen wry smile befell a Captain of Gold, a seagull cawing and swooping up a smaller fish upon it’s beak, not far from the spot a cliff hungover nearside the Silver Bazaar where the flight of the free savored their delights peace of calmness was felt in the surrounding environment, “Ye gonna stay lurking in those shadows? It’s kinda of hard not to hear the excitement bubbling from the overgrown butterfly.” He lightly rotated and tilted and appearing before him was another Miqo’te with a blindfold but not simple one, this one held more history. For you see this was his biological Father. The man who gave himself to a Doma resistance group and led assassination operations instead of stuck close to true treasure...

A encapsulating figure of marvel and luminous speaking up in a squeaky high-pitched voice floating closely to the mysterious man, <What did you call me? Butterfly!!! I’ll show you.” The Eos getting pulled by two finger digits and held back by a dress. Softer and more gruff with experience and harden pitch, “Son.” He rung. Still coveting that mask of his eyelids. His perception of senses heightened and his trusty companion leading him.

The ruffian pirate retorted, “What brings you out of the shade and into my orbiting Sun? Huh old man? Came to assassinate me or for the better term attempt too? The bounty better be worth a nifty sum of gil to have you step to me reminds me, how’s the arm pops?” His golden amber hue looking towards a damned well limb that was ripped asunder in a battle that took place a few Moons passing now right before the crucible of a War of the Depths. Hoku’s metallic magitek augmentation lifting up lightly no sound slinking from it almost perfectly only to those with the most sensitive hearing. “Seems you’ve but still remained ever the delinquent and unwavering. Should know damn well why I returned to see how you’ve been training and coming along ensuring you haven’t slacked off just because one battle was over... How about we cut it out? He said wisely and seriously atone.” The toothed-fang smirk and arrogance returning back, “Aye? Ye wanna know how I’ve been doing. Absolutely dandy. I’ve got dead crewmates here and there some captured and held, I’m wanted. I’ve never felt more alive! I’m atop of the world. Hell I get a golden ovation every time I step in a room. They always remind me in applause of my upstanding Father and being raised!” Talking with sarcasm towards the ending response.

“Yes well, I didn’t expect you to be fine. You’re already lying to yourself still it seems, you’re miserable. Worse than that aren’t you? A parent knows...” Being cut off by the loudmouth scoundrel, “What the hell exactly do you know what I been through? Were you there! No, I had to do heinous things on the norm to survive. You least can abandon your emotions all behind and ditch what matters to you, NOT ME. When I see a Treasure, They are the object of my World. My closest parent was only one man, he’s in these depths. Leviathan, I can show you t’ spot!” “It’s not wrong, when you become a contract killer you abandon nearly all of you have to forget and be within coldness so it doesn’t dampen your inabilities to see too a well earned victory stricken when another head’s off the list. You’re right I might one day, I’ll be deployed to have to kill you. But it’ll be in pride and at this point... However, It’s not the worst option now either. I was controlled before but I fought you, I saw you. Truly within my Sight. You all but know how special our gift is... In a moment, I saw what you did, became, it was an omen.” The furrowing eyebrow tattooed and battered scarred pirate stood closer in, “What is that?“ An answer simple and held grave. “You sold yourself... To death. Your death or better of the like term for it the Ferryman. Only visited when sought with ambitions bigger. The individual offers to give up his Soul in due time as a bargaining chip but your Soul’s split before he could reap you and ever since then you been on borrowed time. Here is the thing though, no one outruns it. It’ll catch up. You already been experiencing the nightmares? You losing control? Slipping out of balance and touch with yourself waking up in sweats. I know you took the deal because your fighting style. While it’s true an assassin borrows the skills required to administer and serve as the reaper themselves. You instead borrowed it’s luck. Ever since then you been on borrowing. Everything you’ve done has led to this. You already want to cut your own heart out of your torso don’t you? The pain gets worse, that psyche is already acting distorted. You’ve already seen it fallen into shambles. Even THAT beast you chained, is frightened. You’ve brought damnation upon yourself and you.... smile.” He fatherly scolded and also act as a former Mentor of the pirate. That infamous smirk was placed on Kuro as he looked over at Hoku, “What’s the matter worried? You’re correct, I did give in to something bigger than me. Cause ye see that’s what I have to do. You weren’t left with nothing, screw the compass where did it lead me? Getting my ass-kicked and no friends at that shitty orphanage? How about every single thing I’ve stolen to survive in the Lanes? News flash there isn’t much to eat there. You have no where to go, or turn too, be alone with nothing! Even your caretakers don’t give a single shite. I appreciate your sentiment but it’s none of your business mate you’ve but sunken your opportune time for a lecture. Hell maybe it’s not a bad thing to give into what else lies dormant in me, let him have control wreck havoc and then let him get reaped shortly after. Surely, that’ll be any better!” “You’re the exact same as your Mother was stubborn and risky at a fault trying to prove something bigger. You’ll always run into curses but taking that of Death’s is the worst one. You wonder why your crew is dead? Why chaos follows you, because you bring it’s company with you on your adventures, It doesn’t matter at all that you can lead them. It’s the fact by them being around you their luck considerably has diminished. That specter knows no bounds and it’s swiping for your head to cleave it off! Yeah, you dodge it. But look who is with your in the cross-hairs being replaced.Seems you found yourself someone special, I’m happy. Though even she and partially in death’s favor can be disposed of and it’ll come by, you. So you’ve got two options, son. You let me end you right now, which is probably for the better as mercy for the pain you’ll be inflicted. You’d rather prefer any other cruelty. Or you can listen to me and take option two.” Boldly stepping closer and hearing his eye gave thought and looked over at the seas the clouds darkening. He felt ringing truth, “How did you obtain knowledge even of this?” The pirate’s father and guide in life, “My own Mentor you see is a rather unique individual an Immortal but not the type you’re accustomed too. This immortality is but a curse that leaves a man sick, he cannot be killed by any means but he has a fate worse than that. He suffers from Death’s Choke. Where his body becomes encased in the worst pain of any lifetime all at once constantly and causing him to have servants and others to draw upon aether and bring it to them to cope. There’s no telling when he’s allowed to move or do anything but sit on a weakly bed and be tarnished. People have associated him with many titles but lately he’s taken up in the creation of a Sky Pirate crew that you know runs the biggest black market and trade organization a fleet so big that there is Six Tiers too.” Scoffing and sighing lowly, “Seriously we’re going on that again? Flaming Pegasus or aka the ‘Arbiters Line’ It’s a rumor at this point the only people who’ve real contact has been Beast Tribe and a few odd strays. I’ve bought things from them and they helped us with the Sea Lurkers with their devices. But they’re but rumors. They’re a criminal organization in upper-world instead of underworld. Not many people can even reach them or touch them. You want me to go on a goose-chase, buy a sky ship find some sick old timer and just HOPE he can somehow find a solution to fix me? Am I really grasping at straws here with this, I’m cursed situation? This seems like a whole lot of dramatic theater for me, mate.” Lighter steps close in from the older Seeker to the more younger one equally battered and seasoned. “If you want treasures, freedom, to live. This is your only option. You can go return to biding your time out watching for which person is your downfall. You don’t fear death’s but it’ll come and that pain will be so destructive... You thought you knew nothing...” He’d frown, “Go, train. Find Arbiter’s Line. This isn’t something I can push you on. If you don’t do this... I’ll have to let her know. Do not be selfish on this one thing or allow your greed to consume you or be hesitant upon action.” Flicker the fairy strolled up and slapped Kuro with a stinging slap before heading back. “That’s for picking on me more lately!” She’d hide underneath a folded pocket on Hoku’s garb as they begun walking off to once again fade within the shadows. “Hey, old man.” The Cap’n of the Goldbrand spoke, Hoku stopped in tracks not turning but in listens. “Thanks, father... I’ll give it some thought.... I always did relish me some adventure! There’s got to be someone out there who can teach me something new!” He’d return his starry gaze to the seas before turning back and noticing they were gone and causing him splitting a gnarling-fanged curl of his lips.

#FFxivWrite2018 #hoku #kuro #father #son #developement #time to cut the bs #death #curses #pirates #assassins #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv rp #ffxiv miqo'te

[autumnslance]

A Lore Nerd’s Analysis of Oaths and Warriors of Light in D&D and FFXIV

This is @wearepaladin‘s fault. Kinda. Actually, I’ve been planning on doing something for awhile, and the idea began to solidify more in a r/ffxiv thread where someone asked “Anyone notice Dark Knight is more like a traditional Paladin lore wise?” My own comment can be found here, where I say I’ve been long thinking of the ways the Dark Knights and Paladins of Eorzea match up to the various Paladin Sacred Oaths of Dungeons & Dragons 5th edition. I figured I ought to expand on that sooner or later.

So yeah, “I’m your host LynMars/Dark Autumn, you can go below the cut for my TEDTalk on the Warrior of Light, Dark Knights, Paladins, and the Sacred Oaths of D&D 5e”:

Now, as a disclaimer, I have not completed the Paladin quest chains yet. I am nearly to the end of the original lvl 30-50 A Realm Reborn (ARR) chain, though, and since I usually don’t care too much about spoilers, already know what’s going to happen. Partially because I could easily guess and so just looked over the chain info. Anyway.

Paladin (PLD) is a traditional sword-and-shield wielding class of holy light users in Final Fantasy, like in most settings. In FFXIV, the primary group of paladins is the Sultansworn. As the class trainer, Captain Jenlyns Aesc, explains when you first approach him:

“A paladin swears allegiance to the sultanate. A paladin shall be the sword and shield of the sultanate. A paladin defends the people of the realm. Sellswords and gladiators and others of their ilk wield their blades for themselves, but a paladin serves the greater good. Do you understand me?

“The battle arts that the paladin learns have been held secret, nurtured, and perfected within the ranks of the Sultansworn elite for nigh on these six hundred years. Of all those sworn to protect the sultanate--the soldiers, the mounted guards, and the knights--we are the elite of the elite. Our conviction unwavering, our hearts true, our sword skills without peer.

“But the glory of the Sultansworn...Well, much of it is buried in the past now. Our brotherhood grows smaller by the year, we are a shadow of what we once were, and the sultana turns to sellswords to defend her palace. All this, because of one traitor--no, because of a blot of dishonor left by one who shall not be named...And because of him, we have been forced to seek the help of able-bodied adventurers.

“And here you are. We shall instruct you in the paladin military arts. You will not be inducted into the Sultansworn, but serve as a free paladin. However, first you will show us that both your sword and heart have mettle, and you are worthy of the honor.”

So how does this relate to the best-known traditional tabletop RPG? In 5th edition (5e), the traditional classes are handled a little differently than before. To add customization, early in leveling (mostly lvl 3, though a few classes start off right at lvl 1), players can choose a type of their class they want to be; what Bard College they study, what Cleric Domain they know, what Druid Circle they are attuned to, etc. For paladins, they choose a Sacred Oath to swear. This gives them their moral code to follow in the service of their deity or ideal that grants them their divine abilities, while also loosening some of the constraints of the old alignment system, and gives both players and game masters a framework for what the paladin’s behavior should follow, lest they stray and lose their divine favor.

The Sultansworn would fit best into the Oath of the Crown:

Law: The law is paramount. It is the mortar that holds the stones of civilization together, and it must be respected. Loyalty: Your word is your bond. Without loyalty, oaths and laws are meaningless. Courage: You must be willing to do what needs to be done for the sake of order, even in the face of overwhelming odds. If you don't act, then who will? Responsibility: You must deal with the consequences of your actions, and you are responsible for fulfilling your duties and obligations.

This oath is for those paladins “sworn to the ideals of civilization, be it the spirit of a nation, fealty to a sovereign, or service to a deity of law and rulership.” (Sword Coast Adventurer Guide, pg 132). As the name implies, the Sultansworn are dedicated to Ul’dah and the Sultan(a) sitting on the throne. As the Sultansworn train free paladins, however, the Oath of the Crown doesn’t apply. A free paladin, Solkzagyl Keltnaglsyn, challenges the player:

“Simply learning paladin swordplay does not make you a paladin--nor does the armor you wear, or the status you claim...Strike off the shackles that bind your spirit, lift the visor that blinds, and find the true path of the paladin.”

Free paladins would fit better under the more traditional Oath of Devotion, from the Player’s Handbook (PHB):

Honesty: Don't lie or cheat. Let your word be your promise. Courage: Never fear to act, though caution is wise. Compassion: Aid others, protect the weak, and punish those who threaten them. Show mercy to your foes, but temper it with wisdom. Honor: Treat others with fairness, and let your honorable deeds be an example to them. Do as much good as possible while causing the least amount of harm. Duty: Be responsible for your actions and their consequences, protect those entrusted to your care, and obey those who have just authority over you.

All the things the Sultansworn strive for, but without the strictures of devoted service to the sultanate. The Knights of Ishgard (often called Temple Knights if part of their military), though not called paladins in game, can also fall into one of these two oaths. In fact, let’s turn to the Holy See of Ishgard now...

(Aside: “But LynMars,” you might say. “My Warrior of Light doesn’t fit either of those Oaths.” Hold that thought for the end, fam.)

So where do Dark Knights fit in? Why consider them “paladins” in all but name?

Dark Knights (DRK) are from Ishgard, like the Temple Knights; most knights of the Holy See should fit into Crown or Devotion, especially with the emphasis on the worship of Halone the Fury, one of Eorzea’s Twelve gods. But, sometimes...holy men aren’t so holy, especially when so many are younger sons sent to the Church because there’s just no other place for them in the noble household structure. When many are orphaned poor joining out of desperation--and finding they’re still given short shrift over their nobleborn brethren. When sometimes, those in power are corrupted by power, or were corrupted to begin with. What then?

I already have a post about the historical origins of Dark Knights in Eorzea, from the Encyclopaedia Eorzea lore book and the official website. In summary, a lowborn knight, Ser Tryphaniel, solid and true and everything a knight ought to be, saw a priest doing unspeakably evil things to a child. Tryphaniel killed the priest on the spot in rage, and as a result--and thanks to Tryphaniel’s unpopularity among the elite due to his staunch beliefs--the knight was stripped of his rank for killing a “holy man.” Tryphaniel gave up his shield, with its crest and symbology, and used only a great sword.

“A heart bleeds, a man weeps, a soul burns. Thence comes the darkness, to consume…Yet even in the depths, the flame endures…Submit to the flame and harness the abyss…” - Ser Ompagne Deepblack

The Dark Knights appear as heretical monsters to the pious of Ishgard. Their abilities are given names such as “Souleater”, “Abyssal Drain”, “Salted Earth,” “Bloodspiller”, “Shadow Wall,” “Living Dead.” They glow with red and black energy. Ser Tryphaniel decided to fight using “any means necessary” in his crusade to protect those the Church could/would not, the great swords of those few Dark Knights acting as beacons in the dark. Those he trained, those also disaffected by the Church and the corruption in its heart (the plot of Heavensward addresses that), followed in his bloody footsteps.

Dark Knights fit perfectly into the framework of the Oath of Vengeance:

Fight the Greater Evil: Faced with a choice of fighting sworn foes or combating a lesser evil, I choose the greater evil. No Mercy for the Wicked: Ordinary foes might win my mercy, but my sworn enemies do not. By Any Means Necessary: My qualms can't get in the way of exterminating my foes. Restitution: If my foes wreak ruin on the world, it is because I failed to stop them. I must help those harmed by their misdeeds.

This is still a paladin oath from the PHB. The Oath of Vengeance is described as “a solemn commitment to punish those who have committed a grievous sin.” The PHB even says Vengeance Paladins are “sometimes called avengers or dark knights--their own purity is not as important as delivering justice.”

“To walk the path is to suffer. To sacrifice. Justice demands no less. But we must never lose sight of why we chose to walk it.” - Sidurgu Orl

I rather like @castthemintotheabyss’ low-spoiler summaries of the DRK quest chains. Identity and duty to yourself vs others; family and justice vs vengeance and mercy; to guilt and grief and acceptance of self.

Dark Knights are considered “edge lords” and “emo” and “gothy” and sure, some of that is true to an extent! But this is a class where the capstone lvl 70 ability, “The Blackest Night”, is a protection cooldown based on love. The “flame in the abyss” is the love the DRK feels for those dearest to their heart, their friends and found family--that is what fuels their darkly named and appearing powers.

If you’ve done the DRK quests, and/or don’t mind some spoilers, I highly recommend @haillenarte‘s translations (part 1, part 2) of the original Japanese text for the ARR DRK quests; the English version is rather different, though I think there’s room for both interpretations of Fray to inform each other. I’m also eager to see translations of later quests in this chain (and how the Stormblood NPC matches up).

I also have a Dark Knight tag where I link some of these resources, thoughts, art, and summarize several of the DRK story quests to be minimally spoilery and showcase how the WoL progresses through the self-reflection these quest enforce (kinda amazing for a MMO, actually). I originally completed the lvl 30-70 quests between October-November 2017, if you check the archive.

“They say the war’s over now, but it never ends for people like you, does it?” - Lowdy

There is one more oath I would like to touch on, due to the unique nature of the player character--the Warrior of Light (WoL)--in ANY of the FFXIV jobs, and how the game’s canon generally tends to assume they’ll roughly behave:

Oath of the Ancients: Kindle the Light: Through your acts of mercy, kindness, and forgiveness, kindle the light of hope in the world, beating back despair. Shelter the Light: Where there is good, beauty, love, and laughter in the world, stand against the wickedness that would swallow it. Where life flourishes, stand against the forces that would render it barren. Preserve Your Own Light: Delight in song and laughter, in beauty and art. If you allow the light to die in your own heart, you can't preserve it in the world. Be the Light: Be a glorious beacon for all who live in despair. Let the light of your joy and courage shine forth in all your deeds.

I think FFXIV players see how it fits. In D&D 5e, the Oath of Ancients has naturalistic/Fey origins. The PHB describes Oath of the Ancients as:

“...paladins who swear this oath cast their lot with the side of the light in the cosmic struggle against darkness because they love the beautiful and life-giving things of the world, not necessarily because they believe in the principles of honor, courage, and justice.” (pg 86)

The WoL is Chosen of Hydaelyn, the World Crystal Herself. Certain enemies call them the “Bringer of Light.” To other NPCs in the storylines, they are the “Weapon of Light.”

If your Warrior of Light fits Crown, Devotion, or Vengeance, awesome! I hope you find some inspiration in roleplay and/or writing from seeing those oaths and how they can interact with the FFXIV lore. These aren’t even all of the Sacred Oaths, either! There are others out there, some official and some homebrew, and some even for evil characters (traditionally anti-paladins or blackguards).

A big part of me, though, feels like the Warriors of Light in general due to the storyline, are on the path set by the Oath of the Ancients; the WoL goes through the main story as a beacon for others, struggling to preserve the light in others, in themselves--and, in the case of the Dark Knights, in the depths of the abyss.

Still, it’s up to each player, and this is just some personal analysis on how the classes presented in FFXIV coincide with elements in D&D. In the end, it’s something that can be used, or not, as one likes (or not). I’ve just found the comparisons neat and wanted to get it down, and fate kept conspiring to push me to do that until I finally wrote all this. So thanks for reading my rambling on about nerdy things.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Dungeons & Dragons #D&D #Dark Knight #Paladin #Warrior of Light #minimal spoilers

[dalyunministry]

Pas. Pablo Puja

❤

It is a great blessing to be able to be online with you, and also to connect with the Lord to pay attention to His Word for us.

We hope these moments will be a blessing for each of us as we listen to what the Spirit has to say to our lives and hearts.

We know that without the Lord we are nothing. That is the reason why we will go to His presence calling on His Name, we will praise Him and ask for His guidance, according to His will:

Oh Lord Jesus!

Oh Lord Jesus!

Oh Lord Jesus!

We call on Your precious Name because only in You do we find salvation. There is no other Name under Heaven in which we can be saved. We thank You very much for being able to find us connected, in these moments, in prayer and in communion with You and with many brothers and sisters in different countries.

Yours is the glory and the honor. Without You, we are nothing. Without You, we can do nothing.

Oh Lord Jesus, help us! Amen!

TITLE OF THE MESSAGE: The Son: Heir of all things.

BASE TEXT: Hebrews 1: 1-4.

«1 God, Who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets,

«2 Hath in these last days spoken unto us by His Son, Whom He hath appointed Heir of all things, by Whom also He made the worlds;

«3 Who being the brightness of His glory, and the express image of His Person, and upholding all things by the word of His power, when He had by himself purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high:

«4 Being made so much better than the angels, as He hath by inheritance obtained a more excellent Name than they.»

MESSAGE PREACHED BY: Ps Pablo Pujá, from Chile, South America.

I. THE GRAINS OF SAND STOP THE WAVES OF THE SEA

Jeremiah 5:22:

«Fear ye not Me? saith the Lord: will ye not tremble at My presence, which have placed the sand for the bound of the sea by a perpetual decree, that it cannot pass it: and though the waves thereof toss themselves, yet can they not prevail; though they roar, yet can they not pass over it?»

The Bible shows us that God put a limit on the power and energy of the waves of the sea, based on the sand on the beach (Job 38: 10-11).

In various countries, we have experienced two or three successive waves, which have wreaked havoc on those societies and the entire world.

In Chile, for example, since October 18, 2019, we have suffered what some call a “social outbreak”, which caused serious problems of disorder, protests, fires and robberies throughout the country, based on demands unsatisfied social conditions and pressure from violent groups that tried to overthrow the National Government.

The same was happening in different countries, and under the same social premise.

On the other hand, at the beginning of this year, the whole world was shaken by the wave of Covid-19, which caused serious damage from infections, deaths of people, worn out health teams and saturated hospitals and clinics.

Another terrible wave, which is appearing, is related to the serious economic crisis, a product of the social and health problems already described, but also because of the mandatory lockdowns and quarantines, which have stopped the growth and development of the economies of the countries.

For these reasons, we realized that the Church needed to rise up and each of its members to unite like those grains of sand on the beach, which resist the power of the waves (Jeremiah 5:22).

It has been very necessary to take action.

The Bible shows us that we must take up the whole Armor of God, to be able to resist in the bad day.

Let's look up what Ephesians 6: 10-20 says.

Much of our battle is won through Prayer and standing on the Word of God.

It is very good to put into practice what the Lord has shown us, to persevere in Prayer and Word.

It is very good that we agree to pray together, based on the promises of God, that if two or three of us agree on Earth, it will be done in Heaven.

Do you realize the great power that the Most High has given us into our hands?

It is enough that 2 or more people pray together in agreement… And God will respond and act!

Oh Lord Jesus!

We may have little strength, but for those who keep the Lord's Name and His Word, there is an open door that no one can close, and also the promise that He will keep us from the hour of trial that is to come upon the whole world (Revelation 3:7-8, 10-11). With our unwavering trust in God, we can defeat the spiritual hosts of evil and slow the advance of the waves that are causing great devastation in this world!

REFLECTION QUESTION:

How can you put this word into practice today?

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II. JESUS AS OUR HIGH PRIEST:

Hebrews 2:17:

«Wherefore in all things it behoved Him to be made like unto His brethren, that He might be a Merciful and Faithful High Priest in things pertaining to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of the people.»

We will try to understand what the Bible tells us about the Lord being our High Priest, and see what are His characteristics and functions.

Hebrews 5: 1:

«For every High Priest taken from among men is ordained for men in things pertaining to God, that he may offer both gifts and sacrifices for sins.»

In the first place, we see that the High Priest is placed in favor of human beings, and offers gifts and sacrifices for them.

The Lord Jesus himself performed these two services, for our benefit, so that we may be accepted by God and have communion with Him.

Hebrews 5:2:

«Who can have compassion on the ignorant, and on them that are out of the way; for that he himself also is compassed with infirmity»

We have a High Priest who knows us as we are. There is nothing hidden from Him.

I know that I am very weak, and that I continually offend God and other people. I commit sins frequently.

But, just as the High Priest knew that he himself was weak, and had to offer sacrifices for his own sins first, he was also surrounded by weak people, for whom he also had to present sacrifices before God.

All of us need God's forgiveness.

In any local Church, to whom the Lord has given us leadership, we must remember this: We are surrounded by weakness. I am weak, and my brothers and sisters in Christ, too.

Here's the big difference!

Jesus knows our weaknesses. He also was tempted. Therefore, he knows everything about us, because he also experienced it. BUT, HE DID NOT COMMIT ANY SINS.

That gives us great confidence, according to the Word of God:

Hebrews 4:16:

«Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.»

He can help us at any time, and in whatever situation we are experiencing.

Hallelujah!

Believe in Him!

Trust Him and His Word!

All things, the Father has done through the Son.

The first creation, of this whole world and of the universe, was made through the Son.

And the second creation, ourselves, was accomplished through the redemptive work of the Son on our behalf.

With so much reason, the opening verses of the Letter to the Hebrews show us why the Father honors the Son!

Hebrews 1:1-4:

«1 God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets,

«2 Hath in these last days spoken unto us by His Son, whom He hath appointed heir of all things, by whom also He made the worlds;

«3 Who being the brightness of His glory, and the express image of His Person, and upholding all things by the word of His power, when He had by Himself purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high:

«4 Being made so much better than the angels, as He hath by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they.»

As much as there have been so many prophets of God in the Old Testament and He used so many ways to communicate with His People, now He speaks through the Son!

God the Father made Him the Heir of the entire Universe… The Father is honoring the Son.

And you?

We are going to believe and trust only in Jesus!

REFLECTION QUESTION:

What does it mean to say that Jesus is our High Priest?

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May the Lord continue to bless your lives, dear brothers and sisters!

A warm greeting to all of you, from Chile, in South America ...

Oh Lord Jesus!

[seekfirstme]

The following reflection is courtesy of Don Schwager © 2020. Don's website is located at Dailyscripture.net

Meditation: Who do you love and cherish the most? God did not intend for us to be alone, but to be with others. He gives us many opportunities for developing relationships with family, friends, neighbors, and co-workers. Why does Jesus seem to ignore his own relatives when they pressed to see him? His love and respect for his mother and his relatives is unquestionable. Jesus never lost an opportunity to teach his disciples a spiritual lesson and truth about the kingdom of God. On this occasion when many gathered to hear Jesus he pointed to another higher reality of relationships, namely our relationship with God and with those who belong to God.

What is the essence of being a Christian? It is certainly more than doctrine, precepts, and commandments. It is first and foremost a relationship - a relationship of trust, affection, commitment, loyalty, faithfulness, kindness, thoughtfulness, compassion, mercy, helpfulness, encouragement, support, strength, protection, and so many other qualities that bind people together in mutual love and unity.

God seeks a personal intimate relationship with each one of us

God offers us the greatest of relationships - union of heart, mind, and spirit with himself, the very author and source of love (1 John 4:8,16). God's love never fails, never forgets, never compromises, never lies, never lets us down nor disappoints us. His love is consistent, unwavering, unconditional, unrelenting and unstoppable. There is no end to his love. Nothing in this world can make him leave us, ignore us, or withhold from us his merciful love and care (Romans 8:31-39). He will love us no matter what. It is his nature to love. That is why he created us - to be united with him and to share in his love (1 John 3:1).

God is a trinity of divine persons - one in being with the eternal Father, Son, and Holy Spirit - and a community of undivided love. God made us in his image and likeness (Genesis 1:26,27) to be a people who are free to choose what is good, loving, and just and to reject whatever is false and contrary to his love and righteousness (moral goodness). That is why Jesus challenged his followers, and even his own earthly relatives, to recognize that God is the true source of all relationships. God wants all of our relationships to be rooted in his love and goodness.

The heavenly Father's offer of friendship and adoption

Jesus Christ is God's love incarnate - God's love made visible in human flesh (1 John 4:9-10). That is why Jesus describes himself as the good shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep and the shepherd who seeks out the sheep who have strayed and lost their way. God is like the father who yearns for his prodigal son to return home and then throws a great party for his son when he has a change of heart and comes back (Luke 15:11-32).

Jesus offered up his life on the cross for our sake, so that we could be forgiven and restored to unity and friendship with God. It is through Jesus that we become the adopted children of God - his own sons and daughters. That is why Jesus told his disciples that they would have many new friends and family relationships in his kingdom. Whoever does the will of God is a friend of God and a member of his family - his sons and daughters who have been ransomed by the precious blood of Jesus Christ.

Through Jesus Christ we become brothers and sisters - members of God's family

Lucian of Antioch (240-312 AD), an early Christian martyr once said that "a Christian's only relatives are the saints"- namely those who have been redeemed by the blood of Christ and adopted as sons and daughters of God. Those who have been baptized into Jesus Christ and who live as his disciples enter into a new family, a family of "saints" here on earth and in heaven. Jesus changes the order of relationships and shows that true kinship is not just a matter of flesh and blood.

Our adoption as sons and daughters of God transforms all of our relationships and requires a new order of loyalty to God first and to his kingdom of righteousness and peace. Do you want to grow in love and friendship? Allow the Holy Spirit to transform your heart, mind, and will to enable you to love freely and generously as God has loved you.

"Heavenly Father, you are the source of all true friendship and love. In all my relationships, may your love be my constant guide for choosing what is good and for rejecting what is contrary to your will."

The following reflection is from One Bread, One Body courtesy of Presentation Ministries © 2020.

POOR ME

“He who shuts his ear to the cry of the poor will himself also call and not be heard.” —Proverbs 21:13

Whatever we do for “the least of the brethren,” we do for Jesus (see Mt 25:40). When we don’t give to “the least of the brethren,” we also deprive ourselves of receiving. We’ll have possessions which we’ve withheld from the poor, but we won’t have power, peace, joy, or fulfillment.

If we don’t answer the prayers of the poor, the Lord doesn’t answer our prayer (see Prv 21:13). “If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share its joy” (1 Cor 12:26). We’re either happy all together or we’re all unhappy. For example, if one part of your physical body is hurting, your whole body is suffering. Even if you try to ignore that part of your body, it still hurts, and so do you. We’re in this together, whether we like it or not.

The first world is depressed because the third world is oppressed. When we love the poor, we love a part of our own body. The Lord promises: “Happy is he who has regard for the lowly and the poor; in the day of misfortune the Lord will deliver him. The Lord will keep and preserve him; He will make him happy on the earth, and not give him over to the will of his enemies. The Lord will help him on his sickbed, He will take away all his ailment when he is ill” (Ps 41:2-4).

Prayer:  Father, may I lavishly give to the poor (Ps 112:9).

Promise:  Jesus “told them in reply, ‘My mother and My brothers are those who hear the word of God and act upon it.’ ” —Lk 8:21

Praise:  Peter and his family work together serving at a monthly soup kitchen.

Reference:  (For a related teaching on Beatitudes, order, listen to, or download our CD 44-3 or DVD 44 on our website.)

Rescript:  "In accord with the Code of Canon Law, I hereby grant the Nihil Obstat for One Bread, One Body covering the period from October 1, 2020 through November 30, 2020. Most Reverend Joseph R. Binzer, Auxiliary Bishop, Vicar General, Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio February 25, 2020"

The Nihil Obstat ("Permission to Publish") is a declaration that a book or pamphlet is considered to be free of doctrinal or moral error. It is not implied that those who have granted the Nihil Obstat agree with the contents, opinions, or statements

[integrativeaddiction]

Dual Diagnosis Treatment Centers Georgia

Contents

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Group (tag) releases

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[phaylenfairchild]

The Future Of Trans Americans Still Hangs In The Balance

It’s easy to get excited about the House Of Representatives becoming majority Democrat, but what does that really mean?

For transgender people, the last two years have exposed us to a steady onslaught of relentless attacks. From fear-mongering televised advertisements that posture us as inevitable sex predators to rile of the evangelical voters, to the attempted ban on transgender people serving in the military, the ban of the word “Transgender” or “Vulnerable people” in any missives between the CDC and the White House, the redactions of protections for transgender students in public schools and college campuses. Then came the establishment of the United States Department of Health and Human Services founding a new branch called The New Conscience and Religious Freedom Division intended to allow medical caregivers the right to refuse treatment to LGBT individuals citing their religious convictions.

Most recently, we’ve seen the proposal to remove us of from inclusions beneath the 1964 Civil Rights Act which will, consequentially, expose to to further acts of violence, discrimination and harassment. In a memo that was leaked to the Washington Post which had been drafted and amended by four judicial branches, the Department of Justice, the Department of Education, the Department of Health and Human Services and the Department of Labor since early 2018, it stated that the Obama Administration, by force “…wrongfully extend(ed) civil rights to people who should not have had them.”

Within days, Trump appointed renowned anti-LGBT attorney Eric Dreiband to the head of the Department of Justice’s Civil Rights Division who immediately sent a directive to the United States Supreme Court saying trans identifying people can now be fired without legal recourse.

The latest series of attacks came from all sides, fast and furious. In true Trump fashion, so many other stories dominated the headlines that the conversation, the outrage, the backlash disappeared within days, buried. This is truly the era where it seems impossible to keep up or even stay proactive when something new arises every day, provoking more shock, more fear and more cultural division.

But, transgender Americans were watching this election from the edge of their seats. We knew that the unfolding results had direct implications on our lives, our safety, our security and our future ability to thrive in this nation as an equal. There were throngs of cheers as Democrats swept the House of Representatives, but that alone cannot protect us from the political missiles ready to launch in our direction.

The House of Representatives has several powers assigned to it, including financial oversight, introducing or reforming revenue bills and even the ability to impeach a federal official- yes, they can move to impeach the President. However, what passes through the House must also pass through Senate… and if you, like millions of others, watched the election results come in on November 6th, you know that Republicans not only maintained control of the Senate, but picked up two seats.

The Senate can block every effort that the House of Representatives makes. This is the dark reality of having two branches each run by opposing factions. They don’t care about the issues as much as they care about keeping score. They vote with each other, not against each other. They are more like National Sports teams than a body intended to represent everyday folks like you and me. We must accept there is no bipartisan effort in government.

Even before all the votes had been counted, the future for transgender Americans began to look more bleak when Trump demanded the resignation of Attorney General Jeff Sessions– who was, himself, notoriously anti-LGBT- and appointed a younger, more bigoted version of Sessions in the form of Matt Whitaker. A Man who has historically weaponized his political power against LGBT people. A man who insists that Federal Judges must rule by Biblical Law.

We trans folks and our allies can fight these immeasurably damaging lawmakers all the way to the Supreme Court, but Trump has been ahead of the ball, stacking the bench with Conservative Judges- and one specifically, Justice Kavanaugh, is very eager to please the President who defended him against multiple sexual assault claims to ensure his confirmation- a decision made by Senators who, unsurprisingly, voted along party lines to put him there for the duration of his lifetime despite evidence he may have perjured himself during his testimony.

It’s been hard for the nation to stay on course, however, with so many minorities coming under fire by Trump Administration and the venomous candidates he has devoted the last two years campaigning across the country for. Amidst blatant voter suppression, bombs sent to leaders of the Democratic Party by a Trump loyalist, more devastating gun violence, the latest at a Country and Western Bar in Thousand Oaks, California marking the 307th mass shooting since the beginning of the year, it’s easy for us to get lost in the chaos.

And it is chaos. The entire Nation is reeling.

As a Transgender person, I get a lot of critical feedback. Some are polite and some are violent threats. The argument most often posed to me is this:

Many people say; “There are just too few of you to matter.”

They can’t even agree on how many of us there are. All our detractors care about is there being more of “Them” than there are of “Us.” Those are the politics this administration relies on. Them vs. Us.

Trumpists vs. Immigrants.

Trumpists vs. Muslims

Trumpists vs. Transgender people

Trumpists vs. Women

Trumpists vs. People of Color

Everywhere you look, the Trump administration is starting a war on people. Their goal is to keep everyone scattered. Like a pride of Lions attacking a herd of wild buffalo, they keep the attacks coming with a rapid intensity, thus there is no time to organize against or even react to the last. They go for who they perceives as the weakest first. It is not unnatural, if you are a member of any of the disenfranchised communities that have suffered as a result of this cancerous presidency, to be concerned for your own fate or be hyper-focused on issues that explicitly target you. It’s hard to be angry with others for having already moved on from the discussion of my civil rights. That only happened two weeks ago, although it feels like years by now. As a social activist, or, more accurately, a humanist, it’s a challenge to determine where my own efforts are best served. Every day it feels like a new crisis and another marginalized community in need of our collective acknowledgment and more importantly, our compassion as acts of hate are emboldened and then escalated by Presidential rhetoric. He winds up his base with lies and fuels their white, cisgender, heterosexual anxieties over sharing spaces with people unlike themselves. He gives them a show, they give him unwavering loyalty. It isn’t entirely dissimilar to the time he was a mainstay on the World Wrestling Entertainment Stage. That was a gig Trump maintained for awhile, appealing mostly to those who enjoy watching others being kicked, punched and body slammed, but in a ring rather than at a rally. Although not a wrestler, he was combative sidebar; A character of antagonism and the audience loved him… and he loved the attention. Great entertainment for denizens of a sports bar, a tragedy for a country under his unqualified leadership.

For several years there has been talk about developing an Equalities Act, one akin to that already adopted by the United Kingdom in 2010. Again, for that to ever see the light of day, it would have to pass Senate. It does not, sadly, rely solely on the House of Representatives. In Senate, transgender Americans have absolutely no representation. While several trans candidates were elected to local and state offices, Vermont’s Christine Hallquist is the first trans person to win a Gubernatorial primary, but lost in the race Tuesday night. She immediately expressed her concerns for the future of transgender Americans and their potential loss of more rights.

The Department of Health and Human Services has already moved to replace references to “Gender” with “Sex” as they have decided- behind closed doors as the world spun off its axis and we were all distracted- that sex is binary and gender identity that contradicts genital does not exist, nor will it be acknowledged by government agencies despite scientific evidence that anatomy does not determine gender. This reformation of policies, not just from the Obama era, but as far back as 1964, will have far reaching implications, including limiting or removing our right to vote given that some are arguing the constitution directly references sex, not gender, and some have had their government documents amended to reflect their gender identity, not their birth assigned gender. If Republicans succeed in their efforts to remove insurance coverage for people with pre-existing conditions, that will undoubtedly include those diagnosed with gender dysphoria. Suddenly, transgender people could find themselves without affordable access to medications vital to their health and emotional well being. Those in the House of Representatives claim they will prevent this when they assume office in January, 2019.

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[sarahburness]

Soften into Life and You Will be Strong

“It’s the hard things that break; soft things don’t break…You can waste so many years of your life trying to become something hard in order not to break; but it’s the soft things that can’t break! The hard things are the ones that shatter into a million pieces!” ~C Joybell C

Language is a powerful thing. Though often dismissed as “semantics,” the imagery our words and terminology impart often adds unintended or even misguided connotations onto what we intend to say.

This is why it is so difficult to speak about spirituality. When we say “God” or “salvation” or even “peace,” those words can bear an unintended doctrinal, political, or social stamp on them that means something very different to the listener than it does to the speaker.

A prime example of this is the “hardness” imagery that is woven into many words intended to be positive, such as “strong” or “tough.” We want to be “strong” and “tough,” to be able to handle all of life’s trials and tribulations without cracking.

However, these words often morph into an image of hardness. When we are strong, we hunker down, grit out teeth, and bear it. When we are tough, we “power through” the bad times.

The short-term result is often satisfying. The hard person bounces back quickly from a failed marriage or an illness or losing a long-term job. The trouble, however, is often found beneath the surface and in the long-term. What happens when someone spends a lifetime hunkering down and powering though?

To use a cliché, the tree that doesn’t bend, breaks. A hard tree can endure a lot, but when a strong wind blows, it cracks and falls over. Let’s look at a bunch of images to see this more clearly.

Brené Brown talks of armor. We put on armor to avoid the hurt. That used to be a way of life for me.

I once knew someone who had endured a lot of trauma as a child, having been abused and betrayed by people to whom he was vulnerable.

His survival mechanism developed through these experiences was to not go too deep with people, to hold his cards close to the vest and not open up. This was easier, he explained, because when you were done with someone, you could just move on easily without feeling the hurt.

What followed in his wake were broken relationships and broken people, who he was able to step past.

But what does it mean when you don’t let people in and open yourself up to them? You avoid the hurt, but you also miss the intimacy, the connection, and the depth of an open, honest relationship.

Indeed, how can you even really be in love with someone if you erect an emotional barrier in the way? You can’t.

As Brené Brown explains, you can cut off feelings—the good and the bad—but you can’t isolate and block out specific types of feelings.

In order to feel joy and intimacy, you need to allow yourself the vulnerability that will also inevitably lead at times to pain.

In order to love, you have to deal with the eventual certainty of loss. Otherwise, you’re just kind of numb. You’re not really there.

People need connection. What happens to someone who moves through life while keeping everyone at arm’s length? What happens to people who don’t show themselves for who they are? I should know—I often avoided authenticity and vulnerability in order to protect myself.

I was an alpha male. Having grown up in a household where I was set upon by my parents, I learned not to be vulnerable. I became a go-getter—determined, accomplished, and always putting on a strong front, strutting around to ward off those who would hurt me.

What this meant, though, is that I struggled to find that one person with whom I could be completely honest, and when I did, I put all my eggs in that basket. Hence, when my relationship ended, I was destroyed.

The more you hurt, the more you fear. The more you fear, the thicker the armor you wear. The thicker your armor, the more it weighs you down. When my armor finally cracked and fell off, it led to a complete breakdown. It was during the recovery from that breakdown that I learned what real strength was.

I had been determined. I fixed my sights on goals, typically those that would bring me recognition, and I achieved them.  These goals conformed with what is commonly viewed as “success”—wealth, influence, and renown. So, I doggedly stuck to the path, my eyes always forward instead of looking around me. I was tough.

Life is a long road with many forks. My eyes on the prize, I was unwavering and kept going left. Unfortunately, life was telling me in so many ways to go right.

I lived in a city that didn’t at all conform with what I valued. I stayed in a relationship that exhibited many warning signs. I had a high-powered, well-compensated job that drained all of my time and energy. I was literally sick—in the hospital multiple times each year when I had almost never been in one before that.

When the pain became too much, I fell apart, and at that point, I had no choice but to go right.

In that moment, all my hardness couldn’t see me through. And that’s what suffering is: it’s the great teacher that tells keeps telling you where to go, and the more you try to power through, the more painful and prolonged it will be. Then you soften up and go right, and everything changes.

Not surprisingly, nature inspired me with the most fitting, if obscure, image: a salt marsh.

Salt marshes are a natural habitat along coastlines. During storms, salt marshes absorb the force of large waves, which travel into the marshes, lose momentum, and dissipate. If they even hit the shore, the waves retai a fraction of their former strength, and the coast is thus protected. Sand dunes serve a similar function.

Over time, people have degraded and destroyed these fragile habitats, making storms even more dangerous and destructive.

To protect harbors, people have built sea walls made of stone. These walls appear strong, but over time sea walls crumble with the force of being slammed by powerful waves or can even cause more destruction when waves ricocheting off of them create violent chop in the water.

When you are a sea wall, you smack the waves away. The waves hit other people and objects and smack you back. Your resistance creates wake, which damages others and eventually, after a long time, causes you to collapse.

Instead, be a salt marsh. Absorb the waves and let them pass through you. Accept them. You will be hit with enormous force, but you will not lend that force any more energy. If left unpolluted and unspoiled, salt marshes will survive forever.

Underneath the hard armor that weighs you down, you’re soft. When you are a salt marsh, your softness absorbs the waves. The hard sea wall smacks them away. A flexible tree bends with the storm, while the hard one doesn’t waver—until it breaks.

Somehow this image works for so many of spirituality’s life lessons. Let hurt soften you; don’t let it harden you. Let that time someone hurt you open your heart up to compassion for all of those who are hurting. Let it be a reminder in the moment to be more forgiving.

When an experience is difficult, you can fight with it. But if you surrender to it, let down your walls, and be open to the experience, and you will grow from the pain. Give up the hard walls and soften yourself up to what comes your way.

When floating down the river of life, you’re totally right to swim in the direction you’d like to go. But paddle too hard against the current, and you’ll drown. Try going soft and floating, seeing where the river will take you—it’s not like you have that much of a choice anyway!

Bravely learn to relax with life and see what happens, and you will make decisions with more wisdom and take actions with more power than if you were fighting.

As Pema Chödrön says, “stop protecting your soft spot…stop armoring your heart.” Likewise, “wretchedness humbles us and softens us…Gloriousness and wretchedness need each other. One inspires us, the other softens us.”

Maybe it’s something like a rule: when you’re in a moment in which your instincts are telling you to be hard, before you act at least take a moment to consider what being soft would look like. What would the soft option be, what could result, and who might you become?

As a hard alpha-male, I made it far in life. By age thirty, I had been in meetings in the West Wing of the White House, worked with Fortune 500 Company CEOs, been to more than fifty countries, and made lots of money. But that year, I also fell apart, and it took a few years to put myself back together again.

Now, I’m a struggling entrepreneur. I gave up the suits and the flights and the tough talk. However, though I’ve been through a lot since the big change, I walked—not powered—through it with so much more clarity and even strength than before. I went soft.

Contemplate softness.

About Joshua Kauffman

Joshua Kauffman is a recovering over-achiever and workaholic. Leaving behind a high-powered life in business, he has become a world traveler, aspiring coach, and entrepreneur of pretty things. Amateur author of a recent memoir Footprints Through The Desert, he is trying to find ways to share his awakening experience, particularly to those lost in the rat race like he was.

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