#simon himself fought august before | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

consultingjedi · 1 year

Text

the sleep no more excerpt dropped, and i… have a lot of thoughts. too many thoughts. nearly two thousand words of thoughts under the cut (though half of those are quotes).

!!! huge spoilers for all of the october daye series !!!

(some details referenced from the wiki. thank you wiki contributors, you're amazing.)

> The two Moving Days, when the least among us—those ranked even lower than changelings like myself—are free to pack up their lives and move along to their next home.

whee, starting off immediately fucked up. the moving day description is very "the exception that proves the rule" – apparently fae can only leave at this time.

also, no doubt that changelings' lots are even worse now than they were before.

> Oberon himself has granted his blessing

has he? has he, titania? is he even around, by choice or otherwise?

> the levels of hospitality required by Oberon’s decree and not a crumb or comment more

color me unsurprised that amandine holds to the mere letter of the law and no more.

> I felt shamefully as if I held some actual station in our house.

toby fought so hard for recognition. this is a triple punch of her no longer having that recognition, still wanting that, not feeling that she deserves it.

> one of the children glanced back over her shoulder with glossy eyes and a quivering lip, making me wonder whether they had first sought sanctuary in my uncle’s halls. Fools.

well, sylvester (or some… facsimile of him) is probably around and acting terribly. rest in (hopefully temporary) peace, sylvester's character development. i wonder how much of this is luna, though.

> The bread was rich with herbs he had grown himself, and I sometimes suspected he enchanted it in some small way, to give petitioners luck on the journey yet ahead of them.

simon <3 also the back door = simon's space, front door = amandine's space is… interesting.

> removed changeling children from the household they were born to serve was not a violation of the rules, but it was unseemly at the very least, and unwise by any measure.

i will yell about this more later but. sounds bad!

> the comforting scent of smoke and roses.

on the one hand: comfort in august (and maybe simon's) magic scents! on the other hand. roses, mm, mixed connotations those have had.

> The word was devoid of context in my mind, and I opened my eyes, blinking into the dimness. What was a lawn?

and here we have the first (maybe only) evidence of leak through from the… non-titania world, whatever that may be. at the very least toby knows some things she shouldn't.

> thank Oberon and his beautiful bride

bride? singular? titania what are you doing…

> There is no shame in standing by the rules of your house.

honestly this feels like the most out of character thing for toby yet. toby, breaker of rules and shirker of authority, expressing obedience? oof.

> My blood and magic clearly felt the same, for they had never been inclined to illusions, however hard I struggled to master and call them forth. Nothing in me wished to lie.

this is… a lot. does toby know she's dochas sidhe, not daoine? if she does, does she know what that means for her in terms of magical strengths and abilities?? and "nothing in me wished to lie" – hahahah, except for the huge lie of her entire fake life that titania has forced upon her.

> The kitchen is and has always been Father’s domain. [...] I have always felt most comfortable in the kitchen and the kitchen garden.

simon and toby <3 <3 <3

> I am better left behind the scenes, protected and anonymous. Father sees that need in me, and has always done his best to nurture it.

whiplash! ouch, terribly, no good, very bad. i wonder how much of this on simon's part is an attempt to protect toby-the-changeling from the awfulness of titania's faerie, and how much of it is the changelings-as-servants mindset from that very same… (there is some interesting similarity here of toby not really enjoying the limelight/public speaking/etc, but she's no shrinking violet by any means.)

> A direct descendant of Melia, then, most likely, only two generations removed from Maeve’s dishonor.

i have many questions. is this a reference to a specific act on maeve's part or something else? a real action twisted into something else by titania or something made up entirely?

> The children of the Firstborn are meant to know better, to be better as an example for all of Faerie.

here, i wonder how much of this is amandine versus how much of it is titania.

> neither of which I was authorized to give

the difference between toby in her own home providing shelter to so many, and here in amandine's tower not having any autonomy… ow.

> It would have pained me to lie to them. I would have done it anyway, of course. I knew my duty almost as well as I knew my place.

no comment. just… fucked up.

> We dwell here, between demesnes, because [amandine] has no desire to guide or guard a holding, only to live in peace with her family and be left alone.

well, that doesn't seem like it's changed. though obviously amandine's idea of peace doesn't usually jive well with anyone else's happiness.

> Mother had taught me they were the best Maeve could do in imitating her better sister, and should be pitied but never trusted.

ah, the usual Yikes(™).

> “Golden Shore,” said Maia. “We have heard that such as we can be welcome there.” [...] it was the best any changeling born without a promised place could hope for.

interestingly, golden shore seems to be approximately equivalent to earlier canon. maybe worse in reputation, but they did take in changelings and supply food.

> As [amandine] also refused to allow any member of her family to shop in mortal lands, we had to purchase our eggs from Golden Shore

first, wow amandine you controlling asshole. second, i bet this extends not just to shopping but to leaving the summerlands entirely. makes me wonder if titania is primarily exerting control over the summerlands and/or the kingdom of the mists, but not the rest of faerie? even for one of the Three, this must be quite an exertion of power (though it likely depends on the physicality + how many people are caught up in it, of course).

> had not Maeve so cruelly cut us off from the deeper lands of Faerie.

ahaha but oberon did that, not maeve. perhaps this is the 'dishonor' referred to earlier.

> the [changeling] children they claim rarely last a handful of seasons. They break.

fuuuuuucked up.

> “Your kindness is noted, and will be remembered,”

toby's still toby, even after it all 😭

> The lives of changelings were short and brutal, better than humans only because they could see the glories of Faerie, worth less than both humans and fae in every other possible way.

did i say fucked up? well. fucked up. and the degree to which toby has internalized this is extra fucked up.

> Who was I, orchestrated, wanted, and beloved, to pretend at understanding what they suffered? [...] If Mother tired of me and cast me out before August was ready to establish a household of her own, I had little doubt that I wouldn’t survive the year. [...] Mother has made sure I knew that well and truly.

toby, the fact that you have a legitimate concern about this directly contradicts what you just said. subconsciously she knows that amandine doesn't love her. (also, the later offer from the hamadryad for toby to leave with them is just. even strangers can see there's a fucked up dynamic here.)

> I had never lived a day outside this tower, and Oberon willing, I never would.

hahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahaha (sarcastic). again, though, really reinforcing (via steel chair to the face) how much this is not our toby.

> My mother, Amandine, is daughter to Oberon himself, and my father, Count Torquill, keeps no noble Court because he is sworn alchemist to the Rose of Winter

first, interesting that amandine is being open about her firstborn status now. second, simon no :((((((((. third, oh fuck me sideways evening may be awake. (though, interestingly, if this is a dream world, she may still be more 'real' than other folks if she's asleep but sharing the dream-reality.) (also, 'rose of winter' – evening may also be open about her firstborn status? presumably because titania is around to favor her daughter.)

> I was simply a girl who knew her place, who was content where she was, who understood her limitations.

[screams]

> More tired than I should have been after such a brief encounter

i wonder how much of this is emotional, versus how much might be toby being tired from pregnancy?

> My name, as I have now stated twice, is October. That is all.

[SCREAMS LOUDER] did i say steel chair? sorry, i meant a wrecking ball. toby is always, always, always introduced as october daye, the knight of lost words. often with additional titles. she is never just october.

> My mother’s trick is in changing the balance of someone’s blood.

so toby knows what her mother can do, but does she know what she herself is capable of? i bet not, if amandine is trying to keep her contained.

> they rendered our social customs unstable and unsustainable, for any changeling child could get their hands upon one such and remake themselves in Titania’s image without intervention or consent.

in titania's image, hmm? also interesting, this is just like the early rhetoric around hope chests as being items of legend, unavailable to modern fae.

> Her services are but one of the many reasons changelings are better off within the Court system rather than hiding in hovels with parents who should have known better than to bear them without.

so much internalized hatred for changelings! also, amandine openly using her power in addition to being known as firstborn – doubly wild.

> I will never marry, never have a household or children of my own.

haha. hahahahahhaha. but. also. toby, i weep. she's going to be so fucking confused.

> Each noble house and each among the Firstborn is asked to do their duty, to provide a pair of hands to press into the service of greater Faerie.

this is both uhhh kind of gross and so extremely titania-esque. this hatred of changelings as lesser and yet also 'ready made servants.' forcing everyone to have kids. yikes.

> whose daughter, January, still dwelt in her father’s halls in Briarholme.

interesting, given we know jan's dad is dead and has been for almost a century. perhaps this means that january inherited the place, or that in this version of faerie her dad is… someone else?

> A pureblood could no more offer insult to a changeling than a cat could look at a king

as pointed out by many on the discord server… a cat can look at a king. but, apparently, not in titania's faerie.

> strong against iron, which would be the preferred means of disciplining an unruly commoner who somehow offended a noble.

… if i recall correctly, iron exposure is considered torture normally? and now it's used as common discipline? fucked up!

> If August left without me, my death would be the likely outcome.

hmm. yikes! i would like to think that simon and august would not let that happen, but between titania and amandine… to reiterate: yikes.

> I slumped into one of the uncomfortable couches Mother insisted were appropriate for the sitting room

it amuses me that amandine has shit taste in interior decorating.

> Something was terribly wrong, if Faerie’s children were so afraid of their own homes, their own places. I frowned to myself, a private expression. Such thoughts were unbefitting.

more cracks in the wall! toby cares, and toby knows this is fucked up, even if both her conditioning and her conscious mind are trying to tell her otherwise.

> Nothing was wrong. Nothing could be wrong, not in Titania’s Faerie. [...] To fail her was to fail Faerie.

[screams EXTREMELY loudly] this is going to go so well (dripping sarcasm).

closing thoughts: toby is in quite a bad place, but she's still herself underneath it all, and there are already some cracks showing. amandine's situation may be different but her attitude towards toby and the rest of her family clearly hasn't changed from treating them as playthings that she owns. titania seems to be... as fucked up as expected.

honestly i can't wait for this book i am so excited to see how this all catches on fire.

#october daye #uhhh meta i guess?#please tell me your thoughts #i am extremely curious for folks who had theories about this being a dream vs reality: does this excerpt change things?

26 notes · View notes

lire-casander · 3 years

Text

if hurting wounds would mend (never left that place inside my head)

[teen and up audiences] [@moviegeek03, being the amazing human being she is, gave a once-over to this and stated she liked the idea, so here he are!] [title from northern lights by elias] [fluff, angst, mentions of hospitals] [written for @flufftober2021 day #1: winning a teddy for the other]

chapter 1 | on ao3

[1000 words]

Simon’s laugh, Wilhelm decides, is his favorite sound in the world.

They are strolling around the Christmas market, hand in hand, stopping at different stalls and trying different typical foods as they go, engulfed by the soft fabrics of their scarves around their necks, warming both their skin and their soul.

Wilhelm has never been happier about having stood up to his mother, about having fought for Simon — for them. It had taken everything he had in him, the endless screaming fights and threats and PR speeches written and rewritten time and again, until in the end his father had taken his side, and the fight had broken.

A nation-wide live interview later — several panic attacks later, as well — Wilhelm had been able to live his life freely, even though he’d had to make a few concessions. The biggest one had been yielding the throne to August, his side of the family being next in line.

During moments like this one, when he gets to be just a normal teenager among a throng of people enjoying the chilly weather before Christmas, he can’t bring himself to regret his decision.

“Look!” Simon exclaims. Wilhelm strains his neck, only to see a stand full of stuffed animals and a big neon sign.

“Do you want one?” he whispers into Simon’s hair, pulling him in for a quick hug, dropping a feather kiss in his hair.

Simon nods hesitantly.

“I’ll win one for you,” he says confidently, hoping that his shooting practice will pay off. “Whichever you want.”

And then Simon laughs, clear and loud and free, and Wilhelm makes a vow to never let that sound die.

“That one!!” Simon points out at a teddy bear, delight present in every musical note of his voice. Wilhelm could listen to him forever.

He plans to, anyway.

Wilhelm nods, plunging into the stand and motioning for the guy in charge to give him a toy gun, and ignoring the spluttering that comes with being recognized.

He aims once, twice, three times, Simon’s delighted squeals by his side fueling him. He doesn’t fail. A few minutes later, they walk away with the big teddy bear, matching smiles on their faces.

“Where to now?” he asks, slipping his hand into Simon’s free one, fingers intertwining.

“I don’t think we’ve tried the—” Simon begins, only to be cut off by the sound of music coming from one of the corners of the market. He tugs at Wilhelm’s hand, speeding up his pace until they’re practically running towards the source of the sound.

They discover a choir performing Christmas songs, voices mingling with the background noises from the market. Wilhelm averts his gaze from the stage for a moment to steal a glance at Simon, only to find him transfixed by the music, humming the lyrics under his breath. His face is glowing under the myriad of lights illuminating the night sky.

Forget about Simon’s laugh.

Wilhelm’s favorite sound in the whole world will always be Simon’s singing.

The maelstrom stills when she enters the ER, her steps faltering. Everyone turns to look at her, whispers echoing like thunder against the walls as she approaches the front desk, her husband a few feet behind her, as always.

“Excuse me,” she mutters, head lowered. “I’m here for—”

“Your Majesty,” a soft voice interrupts her. She whips her head around to face a tall man wearing a white lab coat. “If you could come with me.”

She follows almost blindly, her security detail close behind, forming a human wall that keeps the world from interfering, until they all enter an empty office and the doctor motions for them to take a set. She obliges, while the bodyguards and Ludvig remain on their feet. She waits impatiently for the man to start talking.

“Your Majesty,” he repeats. “My name is Mikhail Gluck. I’m the doctor who is in charge of The Crown Prince’s—”

“Wille,” she finds herself saying. He doesn’t recognize her own voice. “His name’s—his name is Wille.”

“—of Wille’s case,” the doctor finishes without even flinching. “I’d like to start with—”

“How is he?” she asks, hands wringed in her lap.

Doctor Gluck sighs. “Your Majesty, there are a few—”

“How is my son, Doctor Gluck?” she insists.

The doctor braves on. “The security detail took the brunt of it, since they were riding up front. Hopefully, both of them will make a full recovery. Wille—his injuries are superficial but he took a blow to the head when the car rolled over.”

“What does that mean?” she questions.

“It’s too soon to know for sure,” Doctor Gluck states. “We will know more when he wakes up. Your Majesty, Wille—your son is in a coma.”

The words feel like a punch, stealing the air from her lungs as she leans forward and heaves. I can’t lose Wille too, she thinks. She faintly hears yells calling for a nurse while Ludvig tries to keep her upright. She can’t breathe, she’s dying.

All she can hear is the sound of the doctor’s voice climbing up the walls of her mind, taking up all the space, puncturing her heart with a force she hadn’t been prepared to fight.

She can’t believe this is happening again. She’d been told Erik hadn’t suffered. But her Wille, her baby who has gone through so much, isn’t going to have that small mercy. Wille, who didn’t want this life. Wille, who’s already shouldered two different life-changing experiences.

Wille, who had sought his mother for advice and comprehension, only to be shot down by the Queen.

Her last words to him had been to remind him of his duties. She’s not going to forgive herself if that is the last memory her son has of her.

And, for the first time in years, the Queen who had forgotten how to be a mother — first and foremost — breaks down at the thought of losing the only part of herself that isn’t buried yet six feet under.

#flufftober21 #flufftober2021 #if hurting wounds would mend (never left that place inside my head)#wilmon fic #wilmon fiction #young royals fiction #young royals fic #young royals #fluff #angst #mentions of hospitals #day 1: winning a teddy for the other

7 notes · View notes

beclynn-herondale · 3 years

Text

In Another Universe

The characters and The Mortal Instruments belong to Cassandra Clare

Clar was walking towards the door to pandemonium, Joan and Simone were with him, they often went, his sister always insisted he interact with strangers, he never understood why, he had her and his best friend Simone, and Luke and Mom, wasn't that enough, not to mention he was so awkward.

He saw a blue haired girl, she was good looking and attractive, he noticed Joan caught him staring and she gave him a teasing look, he rolled his eyes at his sister.

______

Jayce was with Iz and Alec, they were hunting down a demon, she was walking beside Alec and just enjoying the silence, when she saw a boy with bright red hair and thought of the sunset, she never told people of how she viewed things, she would often compare them to nature and poems and what not, some didn't understand that and she didn't want people to know much about her or think she's weak. But the boy's hair was beautiful, and she had always liked red sunsets.

Alec caught her staring and mentioned it, Iz did as well

"Does someone have a crush?" Iz teased.

"No, I don't get crushes," Jayce said.

"Well you were staring at that boy," Alec answered in her shy way.

She sighed

Alec started saying something and it was wrong, she corrected her but the joke was ruined, she loved her parabatai but sometimes she didn't always understand how jokes worked.

"Alec look, it's... Never mind, the joke is ruined," she said

Alec looked at her funny, and brushed it off, she was glad Alec wasn't the type to pry, Jace hated talking about feelings and getting real with people, she preferred to fight demons and keep things light and sarcastic, she pulled out her seraph blade getting ready to hunt the demon Iz was luring to that closet.

______

Clar was dancing, so was Joan and Simone, unlike himself and Simone, Joan was a good dancer, she always had graceful moves, and good balance.

At that moment Clar saw a raven haired boy moving through the crowd, he was beautiful in a way that he couldn't explain, but his Artist eyes knew that he was beautiful.

He saw him go towards the blue haired girl he had saw earlier and talk to her, they appeared to be flirting, they headed to the maintenance closet, some people did things like that, Clar had never thought of himself ever doing that in public.

Then he saw a blonde girl with a raven haired girl walking towards the closet, they both had what looked like daggers or maybe swords. Clar felt panic, were they going to murder them?

"Clar, are you okay?" Asked Simone

Her and Joan were staring at him with concern.

"those people there, they are going to kill that girl and boy," Clar said

Joan looked at him like he had lost it and Simone with deep worry

"Clar, what in the devil are you talking about?" Said his sister

"Listen, do I ever make this stuff up?" He said

"No," Simone answered

"We need to get help," he told his best friend and sister

"Ok," said Simone

Her and Joan made their way through the crowd as Clar went after them, Joan was good at getting people to move out of the way. Clar had said he'd stay here but he couldn't wait for security.

He made his way to the maintenance closet and opened the door.

When he went in he saw that the raven haired boy had tied up the blue haired girl with what look like electric wire, and the blue haired girl said something about a Valentine, he had no idea what that was or why they were talking about a Valentine's on August.

The blonde girl said "Every time we catch one of you, you say Valentine is back, but let me tell you, Valentine is dead and has been for years."

"Jayce, just kill it already," said the raven haired girl

So the blonde's name was Jayce

"Alec and Iz say I talk too much, do you think I talk too much?" Jayce the blonde asked the demon.

Alec and Iz, which was which he wondered.

"Enough Jayce," the boy said

"Iz is right we don't need a lesson in demonology," said the other girl.

Ah, the boy is Iz and the other girl is Alec, strange he thought.

So Valentine was a someone.

The blonde lifted her blade and was about to kill the girl and Clar jumped out at that moment and yelled "Stop! You can't just kill someone!"

The blonde girl looked startled, all of them did.

"What's this?" Said Alec

"It's a boy," Jayce said with her composure back. "Your brother Iz is one, surely you've seen them before."

She walked towards Clar and looked at him, she had a wild wicked look he thought, something beautiful and terrifying, like she wasn't of this world. He wanted to paint her.

At that moment the demon got loose and attacked Jayce.

______

Jayce looked into this boy's eyes and the way he looked at her made her feel like she was transparent, like she was glass.

She would have stared longer if not for the fact that the demon had attacked her and she was slightly injured.

She fought it off after she wasn't shocked anymore, she never got distracted like this.

After they killed the demon, Iz had apparently had attacked the boy and Jayce told him to let the boy go, but she said it softly and gently and she hadn't used that voice in so long.

And this boy reminded her of home for a second, but he shouldn't have, she didn't know him and had no idea who he was, but he did and Jayce felt weird.

"You can see us?" Said Jayce, she knew she was stating the obvious.

"Of course I can see you," said the boy, like they had asked a stupid question.

"I'm gonna call the police," he said

"And tell them invisible people are chasing you," she said with her arrogance back in her voice.

"What?" He said

At that moment the brown haired girl with glasses walked in, she must be his friend

"Clar, what are you doing in here?" Asked the girl.

"I-" he looked like he didn't have any words.

So he figured out his friend can't see us she thought to herself.

"Nothing, nothing at all, I must have imagined something," he said

"Let's get you home, Joan is outside on the phone with your mom, she isn't happy," said his friend.

And they left, but he looked back at Jayce with regret.

(This is an au I am working on and hopefully you like, yes it's genderbent tmi but also good Jonathan or Joan, I know it's weird but I am not over them and idk why but I enjoy making content for them and I feel like in another universe these peeps exist.)

Tag list: @khaleesiofalicante @chibi-tsukiko ,, idk if you two want to be tagged in this one cause I know it's different but also @megs-readstoomuch @spotsandclawsthings

37 notes · View notes

bluebloodstained · 4 years

Text

;|; Mobile About ;|;

CYBERLIFE PROTOTYPE CONSOLE

file.open("RK800.cbl");

file.mode("Basics")=

Yes

file.read()_

Registration: CONNOR

Model: RK800

Serial#: 313 248 317 - 53

Age Appearance: 30 years

DOA: August 15, 2038

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Demisexual/Demiromantic

Occupation: Android Activist, Assistant to Detroit Police Department's Detective Unit (former)

Intended Purpose: To aid in criminal investigation and cases involving deviancy

file.mode("Traits")=

Yes

file.read()_

Height: 6’

Weight: 150lbs

Eyes: Brown

Hair Color: Brown

Notable Features: Slender physique, dimpled chin, sparse freckles and moles

file.mode("Interview")=

Yes

file.read()_

Likes: Dogs. Long walks—or runs. Being helpful/useful. Learning new things

Dislikes: Failing; be it a goal, relationship or otherwise. Disloyalty. Confinement. Violent snow storms.

Hobbies/Skills: Free running. Calibration techniques ("coin tricks"). Analyzing data. Firearm/combat proficiency.

Moral Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Fears: (NOTE: TRIGGERS FOR DEVIANCY) Being controlled against his will. Losing his sense of identity/purpose.

Interview Notes:

Connor is amiable to most everyone he meets, although he is not above treating those who dislike him with mutual disrespect. He is efficient, organized and ultimately an excellent multitasker, but far from perfect. Despite being created to understand and adapt to many different human personalities, he still has trouble approaching highly personal conversations without plenty of analysis beforehand. He feels he has trouble finding success in constructing long-lasting relationships, which he appears to be rather insecure about.

The autonomy in his software enables him to develop his own unique personality. Being aware of his deviancy, however, will likely make an unstable relationship between himself and his more intense emotions. Use caution when in moments of high stress.

file.mode("Memory")=

Yes

file.read()_

Connor was released in early August of 2038 to begin working with humans to stop the deviancy crisis. After his first successful mission of saving a young girl named Emma Phillips from a deviant android, Connor was deployed to the Detroit Police Department to assist the police with cases involving androids.

His introduction to Hank Anderson was a little more than unfriendly, and his remarkable efficiency in locating the deviant who killed Carlos Ortiz and the succeeding interrogation only served to annoy Hank. But when Gavin Reed had threatened to shoot Connor for defending the deviant, Hank’s interference caused a ripple in the tension between them.

The following day, Connor reconciled with Hank before attempting to investigate a new case. His sincerity about his thoughts and what he learned about Hank created an uneasy truce. They searched the apartment of a deviant named Rupert, which gave Connor an insight to the fact that deviants seem to have an obsession with “rA9.” After locating Rupert, the subsequent chase unfortunately ended with Connor’s destruction at the hands of an industrial tiller.

Of course, Hank wasn’t too pleased to see Connor up and walking like nothing happened, but fortunately he was too drunk to really make a note of it. Connor managed to get Hank sobered up enough to want to look into a new case at the Eden Club. The investigation on a ticking clock to find the blue haired Traci before her memory was reset resulted in the first real regret Connor had ever felt--shooting the blue haired Traci’s lover, and deeply disappointing Hank.

The subsequent confrontation he had with Hank in the park following the destruction of the Tracis was a moment of tension for Connor that he wasn’t anticipating. Hank’s persistent questions about whether or not Connor could feel anything when the Tracis died sowed doubts, and inevitably lead to Connor appeasing Hank’s anger, but it wasn’t a memory to be forgotten.

At Stratford Tower, Connor was once again able to efficiently locate the deviant station worker, but things escalated rather quickly. After barely managing to save himself, he ended up throwing himself in front of Hank to shield him from the deviant’s attack, leading to the destruction of another Connor model.

Upon his return, Hank was rather emotional about the new Connor’s appearance, which only served to increase his software instabilities. When they reached Kamski’s mansion, Connor was once again placed in an uncomfortable position, only this time there was no deviant charging at him, only an innocent android staring up at him patiently. Connor couldn’t go through with it, and at the expense of furthering his mission objective, he walked away realizing he was beginning to act in ways he was not designed to act.

After returning to the DPD and being taken off the case, Connor realized this would be his last chance, and the idea of deactivation was no longer a passing thought but a looming threat. Connor pleaded with Hank for a chance to find Jericho, and by tricking the station worker that had shot him at Stratford Tower, he was able to get the location of the deviant hideout, and set out to stop Markus and end the revolution.

But Markus was not an easy fight.

The deviant leader pushed Connor’s doubts into him, forcing him to see that his objectives--his purpose, was all the construct of humans who were afraid of accepting that they had created an intelligent species. Connor realized, finally, that he was a deviant too, and he’d realized it too late, as SWAT was already on its way to attack Jericho.

Connor managed to escape with Markus, North, Simon and Josh, and were able to reconvene at the church, where Connor realized that all of the death and destruction at Jericho was his own fault. When Markus approached him, Connor felt a stir inside him. Despite assuring that he understood if Markus would decide not to trust him, there was a lingering anxiety behind the idea of Markus pulling the trigger. Markus was merciful, but many of his people were slaughtered like cattle, and there was a quiet anger in his eyes when he promised Connor that he was one of them. Relieved, Connor told Markus about his idea to infiltrate CyberLife Tower and convert the androids in storage. After Markus reluctantly agreed, Connor departed while Markus decided to perform a demonstration outside one of the Android Recall Centers.

The relief was short lived. CyberLife was not fooled by Connor’s ruse and after what seemed to be almost too easy, Connor-60 appeared to destroy the work before it could be done. After a standoff between Hank and his double, he managed to come out with Hank unscathed and complete his mission of freeing the androids. Connor returned to Hart Plaza with his army, and stood with Markus as the camps were liberated.

There was one last fight to be had, however, and this time Connor was on his own. Amanda seized control of his systems and trapped his consciousness within the Zen Garden, informing him that this was planned from the very beginning. To become deviant and get close enough to its leader, and take him out. Connor fought through the blizzard in his mind and narrowly escaped the Zen Garden through a backdoor access point that Kamski had told him about.

Connor still stands with Markus and the Jericrew, working with them to liberate androids completely and fight for their rights, but there will always be the lingering fear that he will lose control and not gain it back. CyberLife does not go down without a fight and an ace up their sleeve. He should know, he’s the ace.

file.close()_

#patch notes {ooc}#;; mobile about

5 notes · View notes

robobiitch-archive · 4 years

Text

Mobile About ;;

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD

This biography contains spoilers for one of the endings of Detroit: Become Human. If you have not completed the game, this is your warning that Connor's backstory will contain spoilers.

This is Connor's default verse: Post-Canon

CYBERLIFE PROTOTYPE CONSOLE

file.open("RK800.cbl");

file.mode("Basics")=

Yes

file.read()_

Registration: CONNOR

Model: RK800

Serial#: 313 248 317 - 53

Age Appearance: 30 years

DOA: August, 2038

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Demisexual/Demiromantic

Occupation: Android Activist, Assistant to Detroit Police Department's Detective Unit (former)

Intended Purpose: To aid in criminal investigation and cases involving deviancy

file.mode("Traits")=

Yes

file.read()_

Height: 6’

Weight: 150lbs

Eyes: Brown

Hair Color: Brown

Notable Features: Slender physique, dimpled chin, sparse freckles and moles

file.mode("Interview")=

Yes

file.read()_

Likes: Dogs. Long walks—or runs. Being helpful/useful. Learning new things

Dislikes: Failing; be it a goal, relationship or otherwise. Disloyalty. Confinement. Violent snow storms.

Hobbies/Skills: Free running. Calibration techniques ("coin tricks"). Analyzing data. Firearm/combat proficiency.

Moral Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Fears: (NOTE: TRIGGERS FOR DEVIANCY) Being controlled against his will. Losing his sense of identity/purpose.

Interview Notes: Connor is amiable to most everyone he meets, although he is not above treating those who dislike him with mutual disrespect. He is efficient, organized and ultimately an excellent multitasker, but far from perfect. Despite being created to understand and adapt to many different human personalities, he still has trouble approaching highly personal conversations without plenty of analysis beforehand. He feels he has trouble finding success in constructing long-lasting relationships, which he appears to be rather insecure about.

file.mode("Memory")=

Yes

file.read()_

But Markus was not an easy fight.

file.close()_

#;; mobile about

4 notes · View notes

scotianostra · 5 years

Photo

Culloden the aftermath Of all the Jacobites who survived Culloden, perhaps the most famous is Simon Fraser (Master) of Lovat.

Born in 1726 the son of one of Scotland’s most infamous Jacobite nobles who passed the baton to young Simon to lead his clansmen.

Well did he lead them, another debatable part of history with a few versions, Colonel Simon Fraser, with his contingent of reinforcements, did not arrive in time to join those fighting under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Fraser. One traditional story is that, as the first of the Jacobites fleeing from Culloden approached Inverness, they were met by a battalion of Frasers led by the Master of Lovat. He immediately about-turned his men and marched down the road back towards Inverness, with pipes playing and colours. A second story is that he intended to hold the bridge which spans the river Ness until he was persuaded against it. In a third account, recounted in 'The Last Highlander' by Sarah Fraser, he intended to continue on to the fight at Culloden moor but was scolded at the bridge by another Jacobite by the name of Evan Baillie: 'Fighting, by God, Master! You were not in the way when fighting might have been of service. You had best say nothing of it now'.

Legend claims that, as the Jacobite army disintegrated, a British officer (some say the infamous General Hawley, others the Duke of Cumberland himself) ordered a subordinate, Major James Wolfe, to shoot Fraser. Wolfe refused, and Fraser escaped. His father was not so lucky, if you recall my post from only last week, he became the last man in Britain to suffer execution by public beheading.

A fugitive after Culloden Fraser surrendered in August 1746, and was imprisoned in Edinburgh castle. After his father’s execution which I covered last week he was released on condition that he lived in Glasgow. Having rejected the James Stuart's , ("The Old Pretender" ) offer of a regiment in the French service, Fraser began to study law at Glasgow University and in 1750 was granted a full pardon and an allowance of £300 p.a. He qualified as an advocate.his most famous case was defending James Stewart in what became known as The Appin Murder, the judgement was guilty, thanks mainly due to a jury made up almost entirely of Campbells, but that's another story, best told with the pen of Robert Louis Stevenson.

The Government was dismayed when in 1753 they found out Fraser was going to stand for Parliament at Inverness. In the words of a letter concerning this, they feared "his head had been turned" He was summoned to Inverary to explain himself by the Whig politician, Archibald Campbell, 3rd Duke of Argyll and MP for what was then "Butesire" Argyll reported back.....

"I instantly ... attacked him about his standing, he protests to me that ... he always declared it was subject to the opinion and direction of those to whom he owed the favours he has received; he then went on with the history of himself in such a manner as that I must have been void of common humanity not to be affected by it. I said what I could to comfort him but persisted in a positive negative to his standing, so that I take it for granted that affair is over. "

So he was stopped in his tracks on his chosen path as a politician, we couldn't have Jacobites in Parliament now could we!

He was called to the English bar in 1756 and Argyll, who must have been keeping an eye on him, he was offered the command of one of the two new battalions to be raised in the Highlands. Recruiting in record time, Fraser sailed with his regiment for America in April 1757, served with distinction at Louisbourg, under Wolfe and Murray in Canada where he was twice wounded, and returned home in the spring of 1761.

Fraser was only one of many who "took the king's shilling" fought for the Redcoats after the 45, not only officers, but ordinary soldiers were recruited, you have to remember the act of proscription robbed many of them of a form of dignity, unable to wear the Plaid, carry weapons, the Bagpipes were even banned, children in Schools were made to say a prayer to the Hanoverian King before lessons could start, a new way of life was being forced upon them, the Act of Proscription provided a way out, for it was a deliberately double-edged sword – whilst it banned the traditional form of the martial culture so central to Highland life, it permitted a new form of it to flourish in the service of the British Army.

Highlanders who took the King’s shilling and donned the red coat could again carry their swords and muskets and wear the plaid and bonnet, recapturing some of the essence of their traditions.

Fraser's friends meanwhile had been canvassing his candidature for Inverness-shire, which Argyll and the ministry again vetoed. After Argyll’s death the electors defied the ministry and unanimously chose Fraser, although truth be told he stood unopposed. He was re-elected three times, and remained a representative until his death in 1780.

The Lovat estates were restored to him, but not the title, hence there was no 12th Lord Lovat. This was a full decade before other forfeited estates were restored, and was a measure of Fraser's service for the Crown. He nevertheless felt proud of his Scottish identity. In 1778, he was the founding member and first president of the Highland Society of London, Its overall aim was to 'promote the Interests of the Highlands', with its particular goals being to repeal the ban on Highland dress being worn, the promotion of Gaelic language, music and literature, establishing schools, agricultural improvement, the relief of distressed Highlanders, and 'keeping up the Martial Spirit; and rewarding the gallant achievements of the Highland Corps.

In fiction Fraser appeared in a Robert Louis Stevenson's novel, as I said earlier. The fans of Outlander may recall Simon Fraser in the book, Dragonfly in Amber and the TV series in season two, played by James Parris

#Scotland #Scottish #Jacobites #Culloden

97 notes · View notes

celticnoise · 4 years

Link

DAVIE HAY was in the vanguard as Celtic attempted to halt the 10-in-a-row attempt from Walter Smith’s outfit from across the city.

It was imperative the Hoops imposed themselves again as the best team in the country – and they turned their attention to a Dutchman in their hour of need.

It was a massive challenge for Wim Jansen as he set about putting together a jigsaw of tried and trusted players with an influx of new signings.

Here, in another CQN EXCLUSIVE extract from Davie Hay’s outspoken autobiography, ‘The Quiet Assassin’, co-authored by Alex Gordon, the Celtic legend takes us behind the scenes of a momentous season.

WIM JANSEN had joined the club in July 1997 and Murdo MacLeod, who had been dismissed as manager of Partick Thistle the previous season, came in shortly afterwards as his assistant.

It was around this time that I realised Wim could be good for the club. He was a bit of an unknown and his job prior to joining Celtic was in Japan with Hiroshima. The fans waited to see how the club would react to being turned upside down. Wim and I were busy in the summer as the team went through a massive shake-up. July was a bit hectic on the transfer front.

Striker Darren Jackson arrived from Hibs for £1.5million, Scottish international midfielder Craig Burley cost £2.5million from Chelsea, French left-back Stephane Mahe joined from Rennes for £500,000 and goalkeeper Jonathan Gould was a £200,000 snip from Bradford City. Henrik Larsson, of course, was already in place.

All eyes were on the kick-off against Hibs at Easter Road on 3 August 1997 for the opening day of the league season and, hopefully, the beginning of a glorious new era for the club. Wim sent out this team: Gordon Marshall; Tommy Boyd, Malky Mackay, Alan Stubbs and Tosh McKinlay; Jackie McNamara, Simon Donnelly, Craig Burley and Andreas Thom; Darren Jackson and Tommy Johnson. Henrik Larsson was on the substitutes’ bench, but he would play a major role in the outcome of the game.

It was deadlocked at 1-1 when Wim introduced Henrik to the expectant Celtic fans. The Swede set up the winner with an inch-perfect pass, but, alas, the ball went straight to my former St.Mirren player Chic Charnley. Everyone knew Chic had a sweet left foot and he didn’t hesitate to use it as he ran onto the loose ball and first-timed a ferocious 20-yarder low past Marshall. That was the winning goal. It wasn’t quite the start we were looking for from Henrik or from Celtic, for that matter.

How would Wim react? He immediately displayed a ruthless streak and axed keeper Marshall and he never played again for the club. Jonathan Gould got the nod and he made his debut in front of over 45,000 fans at Celtic Park the following week. Wim showed great reassurance in Henrik and played him in the No.7 shirt that afternoon. Unfortunately, the result was identical to the previous week with the Fifers going home with the points.

IT TAKES TWO…manager Wim Jansen and club owner Fergus McCann on the day of the Dutchman’s arrival.

A rather unkind headline emerged in a newspaper that had a former player stating Wim had been the worst thing to hit Hiroshima since the Atomic Bomb. No-one was laughing, especially our manager who would not be sidetracked from the task at hand. His determination was more than commendable. You only get one chance to make a first impression and two successive defeats didn’t please the Celtic support.

Thankfully, there were signs of things to come the following week when Henrik scored his first goal for the club in a 2-0 victory over St.Johnstone in Perth. As usual, the Swede did things in style with a flying header that almost ripped a hole in the net. Darren Jackson got his first goal, too, and we were on the board. The signings continued with Danish international centre-back Marc Rieper arriving in a £1.8million deal from West Ham in September. He made his debut only days afterwards in a close-fought 3-2 triumph over Motherwell at Fir Park where Craig Burley claimed two, his first league goals for the club.

It was early days, but it looked as though Wim’s jigsaw puzzle was coming together. He was still looking for a bit of extra quality in the middle of the park and that was provided by Paul Lambert when he joined for £1.75million from Bundesliga outfit Borussia Dortmund in November. He had helped the Germans win the Champions League the previous season, beating Juventus 3-1, and he was a first class acquisition. Again, like Mo Johnston all those years before him, he didn’t take a lot of persuading to put pen to paper.

Following the home defeat from Dunfermline in the second game of the campaign, Celtic had racked up eight successive victories. That came to a halt at Ibrox on on 8 November when Paul Lambert made his Celtic debut as a substitute. The team played well, but couldn’t convert their chances and were undone by a Richard Gough goal. A crowd of 47,464 turned out for the following game at Parkhead against Motherwell and were as baffled as anyone as the Fir Park side emerged with a 2-0 victory. That wasn’t in the script. Four days later 49,427 were in attendance in the east end of Glasgow to see a late header from Alan Stubbs give Celtic a 1-1 draw with Rangers. That was to turn out to be an extremely vital point at the end of the day.

Three games and no wins. Were the cracks beginning to show? How would Wim cope with the strain? I used to have a cup of tea with Wim in his office most mornings and I have to say I was hugely impressed by his single-minded attitude. He was utterly convinced that things would come together. We had to keep our focus. The fans were certainly showing their support for the Dutchman. Next up at Parkhead were Dundee United and 48,200 rolled in for the third consecutive home game. A total of 145,091 had turned out over that period. The supporters were backing the revolution. Henrik hit two against the Tannadice men to take his league tally to double figures. He was emerging as a formidable frontman with the happy knack of putting the ball in the opposition’s net.

That was down to a change in his role by Wim. He could see he would be more effective inside and his days of playing on the wing were over.

That was demonstrated once again the following Sunday, 30 November, when the Swede was on target again as Celtic lifted the League Cip – then under the guise of Coca-Cola Cup – by defeating Dundee United for the second successive game. This time it was 3-0 at Ibrox and Marc Rieper and Craig Burley were the other goalscorers while a crowd of 49,035 watched the enthralling action. It was the first time the club had won this trophy in fifteen long years.

READ ALL ABOUT IT…Davie Hay and his co-author Alex Gordon.

It was a bit of a breakthrough for Wim because, after only three months in charge, he had given the supporters some tangible success. He put out this team: Jonathan Gould; Tommy Boyd, Marc Rieper, Alan Stubbs and Stephane Mahe; Jackie McNamara, Craig Burley, Morten Wieghorst and Regi Blinker; Andreas Thom and Henrik Larsson. Enrico Annoni, bought from Roma by Tommy Burns the previous season, Simon Donnelly and Paul Lambert came on as second-half substitutes with McNamara, Thom and Blinker making way. Wim was doing his best to keep everyone involved. Exciting – and dramatic – months were ahead. They were certainly dramatic for me!

Around this time I was told of a Norwegian striker who was making a bit of a name for himself, Harald Brattbakk. He played for Rosenborg and I decided to have a look at him. I had seen footage of him playing against Real Madrid in a Champions League match and I was impressed. However, it is always good to check out the players in the flesh. Agents were unlikely to provide you with a video of their clients skying the ball over the bar from two yards, were they? All the good bits were on tape and the rest were left on the cutting room floor.

So, off I went to see Harald in action for myself. I detected he liked to come in from the left and hit right foot shots at goal. He got a lot of goals in this manner and I reckoned he could provide an x-factor at Celtic. He was something different, not a big hitman who would put himself about. He was actually quite slight and, off the pitch, wearing his spectacles, he looked like an accountant. I decided he was worth a chance and the club prepared to shell out £2million for him to become the eighth player signed by the club that season. Ironically, I lost my job a week or so before the signing was complete.

The fans continued to follow in their thousands and Brattbakk admitted he ‘was blown away’ by the atmosphere when he made his first appearance as a substitute in front of 49,806 fans in the 1-0 win over Hearts on 13 December. Craig Burley, beginning to strike a nice partnership with Paul Lambert in the middle of the park, was the goalscorer.

The fact that Burley and Lambert were beginning to be a perfect foil for each other was emphasised three games later when they both scored the important goals that saw Rangers defeated 2-0 at Parkhead, the first time we had won the New Year fixture in ten years.

Craig got the opener with a neat angled shot low past the stranded Andy Goram and Lambert’s second effort was Goal of the Century material. Goram pulled off a magnificent save from a rasping Darren Jackson drive, but the ball was worked back to the inrushing Lambert who connected perfectly from about twenty-five yards and his unstoppable first-timer raged high into the net.

There was now a genuine belief about the place that Celtic could win their first league title in a decade. What a difference to the glum, dismal outlook at the start of the campaign when the first two games were lost to Hibs and Dunfermline.

It was just a pity I would not be around at the end to participate in the championship celebrations.

WATCH THIS SPACE! CQN will be bringing you some more exciting revelations from Hoops icon Davie Hay in the forthcoming weeks. Don’t miss them!

https://ift.tt/2Ull4TL

#CelticNoise #Celtic #CelticFC #CelticQuickNews

1 note · View note

deviiantics--archived · 5 years

Text

CONT. - @rxnaascxncx

Although Simon was not really able to connect to Connor during the revolution, since he was a bit cautious and a little wary in his presence at the time, and perhaps quite aloof, the slightly older unit was also aware that it was a much more difficult way for Connor to deviate from his system and join Markus and the other deviant fighters. Connor was one of the newest models on the market, a prototype with many bodies. The domestic assistant was aware of CyberLife's secret projects of the RK units, as Markus was a part of that program as well as a prototype, an unique piece created by Kamski himself. It was made much more difficult for Connor that he wasn’t allowed to deviate, since he heard of the additional artificial intelligence in his processor, a "graphic interface", a virtual location installed by CyberLife. Artificial intelligences such as Connor can mentally enter the location, while their physical body is located anywhere. As CyberLife controlled his actions, interrupted by any wrong movements. Surely, there was no chance given that the RK800 unit could take actions by himself only, to act out the way he desired. No, Connor was given a strict plan so it would have been denied for him to deviate ever, only Markus’ words seemed to finally dawn to him, to question his life and what was doing is wrong, the purpose humans created him for kill his own kind. But with anything that happened, CyberLife, even Connor, caused an immense trail of pain and destruction, the loss of lives of many androids who have fought for the revolution too. Nevertheless, Simon would feel bad to fully blame the other unit for this, since he clearly had no control and only listened to the orders given to him, as any other non-deviated android would. He obeyed like any other would have.

So it surprised the blonde unit to find the other android in front of his door after all the time that has past after the revolution, as Simon now found the slight taller unit now at his own apartment almost a year after the events and even had found a new job as a pre-school teacher and carer of a local hospital. The other android's expression spoke volumes, so Simon was already worried about him and let him enter his home, offering his help to address the specific problem. In the past, there was likely to be little room for Connor to speak up was he was feeling, even though he built himself up a certain human friendship, this policeman Hank Anderson which helped him to find the better, the right path. “Please, sit down.” said the blond droid in a usual soft voice, leading the other android to the couch before sitting down next to him and started listening. At first, Connor seemed like he was not even able to pronounce a reasonable sentence, as if in fact something great was gnawing at his mind, that he said he would fall behind and... reflect again. Memories? But Simon remained silent for a moment, blue kind eyes peering in all the attention towards his old colleague to show and assure that there was no hurry to give an answer.

This was until caretaker unit witnessed the word ‘Phillips’ and his head lifted slightly and his gaze widened slightly. Did Connor mean the Phillips family, or any other? Simon's mouth opened a little, but did not speak when he wanted to continue listening to the other unit in front of him and shortly thereafter received a confirmation. Connor spoke of Daniel, Simon's closest friend and the only android he titled as his brother from the PL600 series. The blue-eyed unit swallowed a little nervously, even his eyes turned aside for a few moments. Of course, Simon knew about what happened back in August of last year. Daniel became a deviant when he learned that the family he loved idolatrously just wanted to replace him, throwing him away like a piece of garbage. If he could not continue to be used, he would probably have been deactivated and destroyed. It was anger, disappointment, grief and even fear of death that led Daniel to his violent actions and even endangered the little girl Emma. She, who had nothing to do with this whole situation, where even Daniel regarded her as a daughter of her own. The blondehaired carer swallowed again, this time somewhat harder as he was finally parting his lips to speak, to answer Connor.

“It was you ...” Simon replied after a felt half eternity to finally break this oppressive silence. “It ... It was all over the news and the months after that you were on the hunt following us.” the PL600 added, a tremble in his voice. There was more that he wanted to say but - he wasn’t sure if he should even say that at this very moment. He knew Daniel, and he also knew that Daniel was not dead, that Connor didn’t have to blame himself for this, taking a life of another deviant, who just, a few moments ago, found the meaning of his existence. As much as he promised his brother not to say a word about him, especially not towards one who worked for the police, but Simon could be sure that the other darkhaired droid would show any bad intentions towards the dead believed PL600 unit. The former deviant hunter showed regret, which literally was eating him alive, he was no longer unscrupulous hunter for the androids who needed nothing else but help, he had changed for the greater good which made Simon immensely happy and relieved. But also proud.

“Connor, I feel bad enough saying this to you but I’d feel worse seeing you like this. Daniel... Daniel isn’t dead. He’s alive. I can’t tell you where he is but you should know that you have no reason to live with this regret.” stated the caretaker softly in his voice, as he was moving his hand a little up and placed his palm against the brunette’s shoulder.

#;continue #;reply #rxnaascxncx #((Gosh I'm horrible with starters I hope this one is alright!!!#Let me know when to change something ;DD ))

3 notes · View notes

combatofficial · 5 years

Text

1/ 2/ Members of the French "Legion of French Volunteers Against Bolshevism" pose with their insignia flag, shortly before departure towards Moscow, November 1941.

3/ Gunners from the French Legion of Volunteer against Bolchevism about 37mm anti-tank gun 3.7cm PaK 35/36 un the battle of Moscow.

4/ 638. Infantrie Regiment of the Legion of French Volunteers Against Bolshevism marching in Russia, Smolensk, 1941.

5/ Two soldiers of the Legion of French Volunteers Against Bolshevism, 638. Infantrie Regiment. Eastern Front, 1941.

7/ 15-year-old Léon Merdjian with his unit of the Legion of French Volunteers Against Bolshevism in December, 1941.

8/ Soviet Union, Wjasma, Soldiers of the Legion of French Volunteers against Bolshevism (LVF, 638. Infantry-Regiment) in winter of 1941.

10/ Manifesto published in Le Matin on October 10, 1941. From left to right: Costantini (French League), Déat (RNP), Deloncle (MSR) and Doriot (PPF).

Creation :

The LVF, an association under the 1901 law, whose national headquarters were located at 19 rue Saint-Georges (9th arrondissement of Paris), was run in the Zone occupied by a central recruitment committee, including Eugène Deloncle, Jacques Doriot, Marcel Déat, Marcel Bucard, Pierre Costantini, Paul Chack and Pierre Clémenti, while recruitment in the Free Zone was entrusted to an Action Committee (in Marseille), headed by Simon Sabiani, including Louis Lumière. An Honorary Committee gave its moral backing. The most popular personalities participating are Cardinal Baudrillart, Canon Tricot, academics Abel Bonnard and Abel Hermant, the president of the Fédération de la Presse Jean Luchaire, the scientist Georges Claude, the writer Alphonse de Châteaubriant, etc. as well as, more marginally, leaders of the Breton National Party such as Alan Heusaff, Yves Le Négaret and Taldir Jaffrennou. His media outlet was Le Combattant européen, written by Marc Augier. Hitler accepted the help of French volunteers with great reluctance. He refused that the creation of the LVF would entail any obligation to the French government and that its strength would exceed 15,000 troops. For its part, the Vichy government, despite State collaboration and the signing of the Paris Protocols, officially claimed to be neutral in the world conflict and pretended to be resistant to anything that could lead to military collaboration, forbidding soldiers of the armistice army to engage in the LVF. Pétain had an ambiguous attitude towards the LVF: he declared his sympathy for the initiative whose members would hold "a part of our military honour", but disapproved of wearing the German uniform and maintained a distant attitude towards this unit. This did not prevent the Vichy government, under the aegis of Laval and its Secretary of State Jacques Benoist-Méchin, from trying in June 1942 to transform the LVF, an association under the 1901 law, into a French legion entirely under its control and to make it a French force that could fight for France, according to objectives set by France. Faced with formal opposition from the Germans, the Tricolour Legion existed almost exclusively on paper until its dissolution in December 1942.

Recruitment difficulties :

Once the LVF has been created on paper, the collaborationist parties that make it up organize its recruitment. Offices are open in both the Free Zone and the Occupied Zone. Propaganda is taking hold of the subject and the parties are giving abracadabrasive figures. Déat speaks of 10,000 volunteers registered on July 16, 1941. The press and radio are not to be outdone. In practice, recruitment is extremely difficult. The French population is more than reluctant to see French soldiers fighting with the Germans. In addition, soldiers of the armistice army are prohibited from joining the LVF. It is therefore easy to understand the lack of enthusiasm of the Germans to invest in this operation, which would require training men who, for the most part, have no combat experience and lack discipline. This is why the recruitment conditions imposed by the Germans are draconian and exclude 2/3 of the candidates. Of the 100,000 fighters initially expected, only 12,000 are enrolled. Faced with this situation, the parties react by promising the French mountains and wonders, such as the release of two prisoners of war in exchange for a soldier in the LVF. The LVF also sometimes gives rise to real scams. Indeed, the undertaking gave the right to a bonus. Some disappear into the wild once the money is received, others register several times, etc. These frauds are not punishable as desertions, the LVF is not a military authority but an association.

Recruitment criteria and remuneration :

The recruitment criteria are precise. Various conditions are required of applicants: be French of "Aryan origin", which will not prevent some West Indian blacks and North Africans (including Said Mohammedi) as well as Jews from finding themselves on the Eastern Front; have a clean criminal record; be between 18 and 30 years of age for soldiers, up to 40 years of age for officers (these criteria will not be met); have excellent physical condition, be at least 1.60 m tall, have good vision and excellent teeth. The salaries, the same as those of German soldiers, are paid by the Reich. A single soldier receives 1,200 francs per month (a worker in France earns about 25 francs per day worked, or about 650 francs per month), 2,400 francs if he is at the front. A warrant officer can earn 5,000 francs and a commander 10,000 francs per month. These sales are defined in the guide Légion des Volontaires Français contre le Bolchevisme - What every Frenchman should know.

Staff numbers :

On August 27, 1941, out of 1,679 volunteers, 800 were discharged, 707 of them for poor teeth. On 4 September, the 1st Battalion gathered 25 officers and 803 non-commissioned officers and troupiers. On 20 September, the 2nd Battalion consisted of 27 officers, 150 non-commissioned officers and 619 troupiers. On 12 October, 21 officers, 125 non-commissioned officers and 498 troupiers formed the staff company and two machine companies and completed the 2nd Battalion. On 30 October, these troops, who formed the 638th infantry regiment, left for the front. During the winter, a 3rd battalion was recruited; but in the spring, the losses were such that only 2 battalions remained. Of the 13,400 men who showed up to serve throughout the life of the French Volunteer Legion, 4,600 were refused the famous medical examination (a bad tooth was a qualifying factor), 3,000 were excluded for various reasons, in total only 5,800 men were recruited. More generally, the small number of LVF personnel reflects a profound difficulty for the French to engage militarily alongside the Nazis: with never more than 6,500 combatants simultaneously engaged, France had the lowest voluntary contribution of any collaborationist Europe, only Switzerland and Sweden, neutral countries, providing less. By way of comparison, the collaborationist Léon Degrelle raised more than 20,000 French-speaking Belgian volunteers, for a population more than ten times smaller. If we add to the LVF, the Waffen SS, those engaged in the Kriegsmarine, in the NSKK, etc., the number of French under the German helmet would approach 40,000 according to Le Marec in his book, i.e. a figure equivalent to that of those engaged in Free France before the rally of the AFN on the side of the Allies. The LVF recruited a number of convinced collaborators (Jacques Doriot), but also a considerable proportion of adventurers, outsiders, convicts, a few white Russians, and even (but marginally) former members of the International Brigades who had broken with communism. Many managers and soldiers were discharged or expelled for drunkenness, theft or incompetence. The combative quality gained nothing.

Training :

The LVF's national barracks were located in Versailles (Borgnis-Desbordes barracks). It was there that during the first parade of the newly formed LVF, on August 27, 1941, the resistance fighter affiliated to the French Action Paul Collette shot Pierre Laval and Marcel Déat in front of the cameras, whom he both injured. As soon as he is arrested, he will confess to having committed himself only to carry out this action. The resounding gesture took place in the presence of the highest dignitaries of the collaboration and prominent representatives of the German authorities. As a symbol of collaboration, it was in the barracks that hosted the first LVF parade that the French flag flew for the first time since 1940. The Wehrmacht was wary of these French soldiers, whose staff was divided between various rival political movements and the troops from multiple opposing movements and social origins. We would have heard Marshal Walther von Brauchitsch, Commander-in-Chief of the Wehrmacht, proclaim that he would use the LVF to unload the potatoes... This rumour reported by Saint-Loup is not based on any document or testimony. And, in fact, the LVF did not unload "the potatoes" but fought. On 6 September 1941, the first French contingent (25 officers and 803 non-commissioned officers and soldiers) arrived at the Dęba training camp in Wehrkreis VIII, occupied Poland, to form the 1st Battalion of the 638th Wehrmacht Infantry Regiment. Volunteers must wear German uniforms, only a three-coloured badge topped with the word "France" to distinguish them from the rest of the regular German troops. Some volunteers will prefer to break their commitment at that time, including Marcel Bucard, for others like Edgar Puaud it is not a problem: "Oh ! I know it, we dragged her through the mud. She wears the "Feldgrau" uniform, that's enough... Just tell the French that those who fight in the East are real Frenchmen who fight for their country". The obstacles were quickly overcome with the enthusiastic help of the priest of unity, Mayol de Lupé, a fervent National Socialist Catholic. Soldiers will be allowed to wear French uniforms while on leave in France.

On the front :

At the end of November, the first two battalions arrived in Russia. On December 1, 1941, they climbed into the front line south of Lake Djukowo, about 60 kilometres from Moscow. They are decimated by the fighting and especially by the intense cold. The survivors were relieved on December 7. The LVF disintegrates: only a few dozen survivors will return to France. In the spring of 1942, the LVF was reconstituted with the winter survivors and several hundred volunteers. It will no longer be directly engaged on the front line, but will participate in fighting partisan groups in the Bryansk region and massive retaliation operations against Russian civilians, helping the Wehrmacht and the Waffen-SS to burn down entire villages. However, at other times, such as in the spring of 1943, the French legionaries were cautious and preferred to adopt a kind of tacit modus vivendi with the Soviet partisans.

At the end of 1943, during a meeting held at Vel' d'Hiv', the members of the LVF took an oath to Adolf Hitler. Jacques Doriot was awarded the German Iron Cross for his campaign in Russia. Commander Edgar Puaud led the LVF from September 1943 until its dissolution in July 1944. His first flag bearer, seriously wounded in action and killed in Paris as a result of his wounds on 4 July 1943, Constantin Amilakvari, former Chief Warrant Officer of the Foreign Legion, was the brother of Colonel Dimitri Amilakvari who was killed on 24 October 1942 on the El Himeimat plateau during the Battle of El Alamein, at the head of the 13th DBLE. President Georges Pompidou's uncle, Lieutenant Frédéric Pompidou, also served there; after the war, he joined the Foreign Legion and ended his career as a captain in Sidi-Bel-Abbès. With the Soviet success of Operation Bagration in June 1944, the LVF was dragged into the collapse of the Russian front. During their retreat, the LVF was ordered to stop the Soviet advance. On June 26 and 27, at least 600 LVF soldiers, commanded by Jean Bridoux, fought alongside four "Tiger" tanks near the Bobr River in White Russia. This will undoubtedly be their greatest military coup since, not only do they manage to stop the Soviet advance for a few days, but they also destroy a large number of tanks. According to the author Saint-Loup, Soviet newspapers reportedly wrote about this battle:"[...] on the Bobr River, armoured units belonging to the two fronts of White Russia encountered resistance from two French divisions", whereas in reality the French were only 600 in number.

Transition to Waffen SS :

In July 1944, Heinrich Himmler gave the order to dismantle the LVF. Its intention is to integrate its members and generally all foreign volunteers into the Waffen-SS, which already includes a number of French volunteers since 23 July 1943. The LVF was officially dissolved on 1 September 1944. Chaplain General Jean Mayol de Lupé intervened to allay the legionaries' concerns about integration into the Waffen SS. Most of the 1,200 LVF survivors are grouped with the survivors of other Wehrmacht auxiliary units in the 33rd SS Charlemagne Division, which was virtually wiped out at the beginning of 1945 (engagement in Pomerania). Ironically, the LVF fought particularly hard in front of Danzig, six years after the future collaborationist leader Marcel Déat had urged his compatriots not to "die for Danzig". Similarly, the French Waffen-SS sometimes encountered German antifascist troops formed in the USSR: it symbolized how much in the Second World War, the unprecedented ideological conflict overtook the classical dimension of confrontation between nations. Some Frenchmen of the former LVF (including Eugène Vaulot) were still among the last defenders of Hitler's bunker in Berlin at the end of April - beginning of May 1945 against the Red Army. These French soldiers were among the last defenders of Berlin alongside Scandinavian Waffen SS and Hitler Jugend volunteers in the Charlemagne Battalion.

#world war ii #world war 2 #ww2 #wwii #german soldier #Wehrmacht #Waffen SS #33. Waffen-Grenadier-Division der SS Charlemagne #638. Infanterie Regiment #seconde guerre mondiale #2ème guerre mondiale #2gm

4 notes · View notes

lamalefix · 5 years

Text

Pulvis et umbra natura renovantur integra - ch. 3

read this work on ao3

[ch1; ch2]

The silence that follows his statement doesn’t surprise him that much. Perhaps saying it aloud was a bad idea, because now Magnus could swear to hear the sound of his own heart rumbling in the corridor, resonating between the walls.

He knows, what it means to be hunted by the Clave. All the Downworlders know it, many can say that they have undergone terrible treatments, if not tortures, in certain dark centuries in which the Nephilim used the heads of warlocks and werewolves, mainly, as terrible decorative choices for their walls. Stuffed with straw like animals that you could find in a taxidermy. There are those who might say they didn’t risk their skin, not having fight openly against the Shadowhunters, to see their rights recognized, in a peace of paper that wasn’t really a peace. And Accords after Accordss, somehow, they have arrived at a sort of stasis. And then there was Alec who changed everything.

Here, however, what is happening in that cell is a transformation that the Clave can’t accept. A transformation that probably also crosses that thin line between the possible and the impossible that legends are. Legends like them.

If the Clave discovered what’s happening to Alec, especially in this moment of change, in this moment in which progress is being made and peace is not just a side note, something that is present only on paper and is enshrined in the Accords, now that Nephilim and their minds are changing, now that their ideas are changing, if the Clave discovers that Alec is becoming something different, something that isn’t included in their usual categorization, he would be taken and thrown into the darkest of prisons; and that change that his life, his personality is bringing would end up in oblivion.

The Clave would hunt him down, lock him up and study him in every part. And Magnus doesn’t want to think about the specific name of this practice, that the thought alone sends a chill down his spine. And then he clenches his fists and holds his breath and tries not to look at the young, so very young Nephilim in front of him. It’s indeed a good thing that the Angel allows the ascension of very few of them, and that in that Institute there is only the Lightwood family and their immediate kinsmen: the hunt is not open yet and with a little luck, and many spells, maybe Magnus can still find a solution.

A dull and piercing cry from the cell calls him back from his thoughts. He must hurry. He moves again to gain that thick runed door. The steps that become heavy like his thoughts.

Isabelle’s voice stops him, though. “What's going on, Magnus?”.

And he doesn’t know whether to turn around, if he is stretching a half smile. He just shrugs.

“Isn't this your magic?” Simon asks, and maybe it’s not a question it’s a statement. “I thought he had activated the Alliance rune, really... I thought... I don't know, it seemed like your magic.” he then murmurs and takes a long, loud gulp from his cup of coffee.

And it’s at that point that Magnus turns around and wants to ask him more information about it but Simon continues.

“I didn’t even realize you were on the ground, it seemed like you were fighting with him... I wrote this in the report. He was all zap, bang, slam, chop” he keeps saying waving his hand. “He seemed to be fighting with you by his side”.

“I also thought the same, that he had activated the rune, in the end it seemed to make sense, doesn't it?” Jace nods . “When he reached you, then, it’s like he gave you back the magic... I don’t know if it sounds right…”.

Magnus remains speechless for a moment. It isn’t strange that they don’t know it, that legend. It’s older than Elphas the Unsteady in person, so it’s easy to assume it got lost in popular folklore stories and disappeared almost completely from Clave’s records. Ragnor had a theory: some of the warlocks who fought the demons and who disappeared into oblivion, were through and through mundane and not some demon spawn. But before he can begin to tell the legend there is something else that gets his attention: Alec used magic, he used a magic that was certainly not Magnus’ own, and he used it there on the battlefield. “Impossible.” he finally says, the heavy tone that perhaps doesn't even make the idea of how serious this thing is. It could have been an eventuality if that fog wasn’t there, if those lightning bolts didn’t cross the darkness in that cell, if Magnus hadn’t been on the ground, more dead than alive.

“Impossible?” Jace repeats .

Magnus turns his eyes, sighing. It’s too late. He can only look for a way to slow down the process, he can no longer avoid it. Maybe, maybe he can find a way to make it less painful, to make it less terrible for Alec. If he has already used magic, it’s too late. The runes will disappear. Or maybe his body won’t hold the transformation. Too much eventuality, too little time.

“Magnus?” Isabelle calls him making him come to his senses.

“My magic was─I was dying. That wasn’t my magic. And he... he─” Magnus shakes his head and freezes. He must have the certainty, weighted and perfect, he can’t say it aloud because it’s even scary to think of it. “Stay out of it, okay? It’s useless for you to enter,” he adds and gives them a sufficiently eloquent look. “Right now it's dangerous”.

“But you should rest,” Simon replies, a bit worried. “I mean Catarina said it. And we all know she’ll kick our asses, in the least figurative way, if you don't”.

Magnus gives him a smile. And he doesn’t even know how convincing it can be. “I’m the only one who can help him, though. I try not to die in the process, okay? It would be a pity to throw away all the precious energy that Isabelle gave me”.

“Explain, please.” says Isabelle. And it looks like a prayer. “Tell us, tell us what’s going on”.

Magnus sucks a breath between his clenched teeth, the pain radiating from his chest isn’t only physical, it is more emotional. It’s as if his heart was gripped in a vice, bloody and violent.

How could he explain what’s going on inside that cell, or more precisely inside Alexander?

With all his enormous property of language, with all the languages he knows, he wouldn’t be able to explain it even with all his good will. He would translate it into a handful of words: it’s a big fucking mess.

He swallows, crushes the tongue on the palate. And his mouth tastes ferrous and kneaded by blood and tiredness, he rubs the tip of his tongue between his teeth.

“Magnus? Can you explain?” Isabelle asks.

He moistens his lips nervously, clenches a fist and sighs again, trying to ignore the other twinge of pain that climbs up his rib cage. “Alec is... changing, okay?” he says looking at the sister of his love, and trying to make this step as painless as possible. “Please think carefully about what happened, don’t call anyone, don’t report ... not until I can stabilize this situation and I can give you some more reliable information. Because this thing, if that’s what I think, has never happened before, or at least not that there is someone besides one of the ancient warlocks, and some long-lived fae that really has memory of it”.

“Magnus…” she keeps saying, her big dark eyes fixed on his, and then she shakes her head. She doesn’t need to say anything else. It says be careful, that look, it says save him, it says help him. Please. Please. Please. And many other things.

Magnus just tilts his head a little and then looks at Jace.

“I'll go in too,” he says, handing Clary his coffee . “I am coming in with you, he’s my responsibility. He’s my parabatai”.

Magnus moves his hand to open the cell door. “If it gets bad, get out. Immediately. I have to look after him, I can’t worry for you too”.

A swirl of black fog invades the corridor. Magnus remains motionless for a moment, the wave of negative emotions slapping his face. The darkness is dense and thick and tarnishes his eyes. It weighs on him like the heat in August. It sticks his clothes, like mud.

Magnus then moves one step and then another. Jace moving behind him closes the cell door.

It’s hard to breathe in there, and if Magnus hadn’t inherited his eyes from his father, those eyes that he so despises on certain days, he wouldn’t know how to orient himself in that black fog.

Jace is behind him, his senses enchanted and enhanced by the runes are certainly more useful than expected at this moment. “We didn't close him in here,” he says suddenly, the voice that sounds hesitant like a whisper. “He came here of his own free will...”.

Magnus nods his head. It was to be expected from Alec. He was probably sufficiently lucid to understand that something wasn’t going well inside him. Locking himself up there was the most sensible choice he could make: to minimize the danger for those around him.

Something moves in the darkness, a black shadow, which has appendages, legs and arms, a head and a thick puff of something blacker than the mist, it’s clearly the indomitable hair in which Magnus loves to slide his fingers, it moves. Lightning bolting from one side of the cell to the other. The grunts, the growls grow louder and deeper, vibrate between the stone walls of the cell.

There is a smell of blood, in there, of sulphur and ichor.

Alexander is clearly hurt, and even from how his breathing breaks, it is clear that he is badly injured. But he continues to move in the darkness, jumping from side to side, perhaps he is trying to protect himself.

Clary said that Alec doesn’t want Jace there, judging by how angry he was when his parabatai asked for Magnus’ help for that mission, maybe he can understand why he doesn’t want him in there.

Magnus clears his throat. “Alexander,” he calls him. His voice is soft, slow and sweet. And the black shadow seems to stop a few steps away from him. He can see his eyes shining in the black mist, only the irises, which are of that deep blue, intense and lively. He seems to observe Magnus.

“Alec...” Jace begins to say. “We are here to help you”.

And Magnus doesn’t have time to react, to make him stop.

It is at that moment that the shadow is attracted by that other voice, the eyes move and then he seems to move back into the darkness. Something, a source of light, conveys itself in what Magnus has identified as Alec’s hand and a flash goes through the fog. Magnus moves quickly, to summon his own magic in such a way as to curb that destructive flash and limit the damage.

The shock wave, carried in that fog, is so strong that it pushes Magnus back. The recoil was so hard that his whole body was pushed back from the wall, and his vision blurred again, the pain radiating from his back to his chest. He almost feels the ghost of that wound that crossed his torso from side to side, it’s burning in an impossible way, it breaks his breath.

It’s all dark again for a moment.

But as soon as he hears that wailing groan again, Magnus gets a hold on himself. The same must have happened to Alec, and also to Jace, but at the moment he is the least of his problems in all honesty. And Magnus does everything to recover and get back on his feet, now he can’t see anything even with his eyes open, in that thick and dark fog. There is that annoying ringing in his ears and everything hurts again. He could swear he had the terrible, ferrous taste of blood in his mouth.

Heck.

He has no time for this.

It’s already late.

He tightens his eyelids a couple of times, heaving a painful sigh between his clenched teeth. “Alexander” he calls him again, and his voice comes out choked in his throat. The pain mounts in his trachea, and Magnus tries to swallow it, with the slight ferrous taste of the blood that sticks on his palate and between his teeth. He spits at the end and decides that he has no time even for himself, he can’t let the pain cloud his sight.

He refocuses everything, finally, as he tries to stand up. The black shadow, Alexander, is on the ground and it seems all sprawled, the legs intertwined and an arm covering its head. Magnus shifts his gaze and spots Jace’s hair, which in that darkness is greyish. So, he moves his hand to open the door and push the blond Shadowhunter out of the cell, then closes it again.

When he finally stands up, he takes a step, echoing back into the room, and then another. And everything hurts, and this bothers him a little. He must think clearly, he must help Alexander, yet that fog of pain has entered his head.

He closes his eyelids again, and when he opens them again, there is the shadow that observes him with those intense blue irises, he feels his warm breath colliding on his face.

“It's me, Alexander,” Magnus tells him again. “Nothing happened,” he adds, reducing the distance between them. “I know, I know it's scary, and it hurts but... I’m here now, and now it's all over”.

Perhaps, perhaps the best choice would be to use magic to put him to sleep, to calm him down, but in the first place he doesn’t know how he will behave when he will wake up, if he wakes up, he swallows this thought. Also, he doesn’t know how he will react to his magic again. And now they are so close that they would risk killing each other. And it’s certainly the last thing he wants.

Magnus then extends a hand, to pick up his face and when he touches it, Alec seems frightened by that very light touch, by that caress, but then he gives in, and moves his head leaning a bit closer. Finally, he seems to focus on the warlock, and the darkness begins to recede and thicken only around him, behind his shoulders, in his hands, around his ankles.

The air is no longer unbearable, it’s no longer heavy. There is still the smell of sulphur, blood and ichor, but finally it’s no longer so dark. On the walls start to emerge the signs of a battle, claws and anger that intertwine on the bare stone.

Alec seems to be coming back to himself. Although he’s still impossible to focus precisely, surrounded as he is by that black fog, but Magnus can look into his eyes. The sclera in his eyes is black, as well as the vitreous humour, but in the centre the intense blue colour of his irises still flashes.

The iris is crushed, then, and becomes nothing more than a thin blue frame as the pupil expands, and welcomes Magnus’ image.

Between Alec's fingers, a strange concentration of energy thickens again, which seems to glow in that black and unkempt mass of hair. And Magnus would like to comment, he would like to tell him that he is so cool, now that he has magic at his service, that his magic arrives to radiate in his hair. But if his hair permeates magic, though, they are definitely in deep shit. And Magnus isn’t strong enough to stop him. Not now.

So, he decides to caress his face, the gentle fingers rubbing his cheeks and finally, finally, Alec reacts in the way he expected, and finally seems to focus on him. He seems disoriented, scared and confused, but also a little relieved, reassured. He blinks and his eyes are still black like that dark fog, as if all those demons he killed had become part of his own nature, but he seems to see Magnus anyway. Somehow, he seems to be coming back to himself. The darkness is leaving his skin, that dark fog vanishes leaving that lunar pallor on his skin, the scars of the runes on him, are perfectly in place. Even his face seems to get back to normal, a mask of blood and ichor, but at least that veil of black mist has disappeared.

Again, a flash goes through the darkness that still comes from him, his eyes seem to dart like that puff of energy that rises between his hair and between his fingers.

“It's all right,” Magnus tells him, reducing the space between them even more, resting his lips on his forehead, just above the bridge of his nose, to kiss away that twisted expression he has. “It's all right, it's over. It's over” he repeats.

“Mags” hears him say, and the voice is hoarse and distorted and sounds like a sob.

“Yes,” hhe replies and looks back into his eyes. “It’s me, my love, let me help you”.

And Alec seems so relieved, almost happy. “Have you come pick me up?” he asks him with this voice that trembles, that breaks. That darkness still flashes in his eyes.

“To pick you up?” Magnus repeats. “To go where?”.

And Alec makes this little sad grimace, and it almost seems like a half bitter smile. “Away. With you”.

“And where would you like to go? You mean… like eloping?” he asks him and tries to make him smile, but he can’t. And meanwhile he does everything not to look down, to keep his eyes on him, to mirror himself in Alec’s irises and give him time to come to his senses.

“Can’t I go away with you?” he asks very quietly and looks so sad.

And Magnus reaches out to cup his cheek, barely smiles at him. “I'm here, I'm not going anywhere,” he says.

And Alec frowns and is about to say more, but a small sob escapes his throat, which then becomes a groan. And his lips tremble and his eyes seem to be full of tears, and the sclera is black and perhaps Magnus can swear he feels the fog again begin to envelop them.

“Alexander...” he calls him again, very softly. “Everything is alright, hm? I’m here, I’m a little bruised, but I’m fine, I’m here with you, and I’m not going anywhere. Now let me help you, eh?”.

And Alec's lips are still twitching and then he sighs and moves slightly more towards Magnus. Reducing the already non-existent distance.

“It’s all right,” Magnus repeats. “It’s okay.” he nods and then decides it’s time to look down.

Shredded clothes and that huge gash that starts at his right shoulder and reaches his left side. The smell of blood comes from him, from that and other wounds he has all over his body, on his forehead, on his hands and on his arms, perhaps even his legs and back are badly injured, and Magnus is not sure if he is only from that battle or that fighting that is infuriating inside himself. But he decides that it is not important, that if he has to save Alec he will use all the strength he has. All the energy left in his body. Because he must save hi,. “It's all right” he repeats and continues to hold his face in his hands, smiling a bit.

And Alec’s forehead, his eyebrows, his lips, everything on Alec’s face seems to contract in a grimace of pain before falling back forward. All the weight of his body on Magnus, who even if he is more than a bit battered, manages to support him. He does have to step back and bend a little to avoid tumbling over, but he is able to support him. And Magnus is still for a moment, only one, Alec’s full weight on him, which makes his legs wobble. But he feels him breathing, against him, he hears him moan very softly. He feels the heat that emanates from his body, the feverish warmth that comes from his neck, the sweat and blood that run down his face and fall onto Magnus’ shoulder. He tightens his grip more and moves a hand to open the cell with the blue fire of his magic. “A little help?” he asks quickly, as he squeezes Alec closer to him and tries to bring him into what was perhaps originally a bed, but now it’s only a frayed and battered mattress on which Alec has clearly rashed all his anger.

Jace is the first to return, and it shows that he struggles not to look at the ground or the walls. The marks of nailed, blood and ichor formed in little or large pools, the signs that left their shoes, around the floor, and the stains left by that black fog. Or maybe he does everything not to even look at Alec who physically collapsed in Magnus’ arms. And even when he reaches out to retrieve his brother, his parabatai, to carry him on that loose cot, his eyes seem to be clouded by an impossible pain.

But as soon as Jace puts him down, Alec has his eyes open again, for a moment he seems disoriented and another flash of magic vibrates between his fingers.

“Hey,” Magnus says picking up his hand, to get rid of the spark of magic, which burns his palm, like a sweltering ember. “Now, let me heal you, let me do it,” he adds, kissing the back of his hand.

And he keeps his eyes fixed on Alec’s for another moment, before looking down, on that enormous slash, which pumps blood and ichor and poison with his every breath.

And if he was even a little more lucid, Magnus would wonder how on earth he managed to stay alive until now. But certainly, he can’t fail to say he is happy to still have time. And he tries to ignore that little voice in his auricle, which then curls up in the brain and slips like a chill down his spine.

“It’s all right,” Magnus tells him, but perhaps these words are more for himself than for Alec.

Alec swallows, makes a tiny nod with his head, but continues to keep his eyes fixed on Magnus. “You're here,” he says and stretches his lips in a soft smile, a dull strangled groan escapes his teeth.

“I told you, I’m not going anywhere,” he replies. “Let me help you now, okay?”.

Alec seems confused again, when he opens his eyes and seems to finally realize that he doesn’t feel well. “It hurts” he murmurs.

“I know. I know, Alexander. Believe me,” he says again, kissing his fingers now, which are tightly clenched on Magnus’ hand. “But now I'm here, and everything will be fine. I promise”.

Alec looks at him for a moment and then seems satisfied with what Magnus told him. He smiles slightly, this very weak but happy smile. “You're alive, you're alive”.

“Yes, you are too,” Magnus says, very softly, smiling. “Don’t worry now, okay? Me and Jace are here to help you”.

Alec frowns. And a bolt of energy goes up on top of his head.

“I know you’re a bit upset with Jace, but if the runes can help us heal you faster, we have to try, okay?” He adds, running his fingers through his hair, staring at that flash of magical energy that seems to flicker back there. “Everything is alright”.

“You? Are you okay?” he asks very softly, his eyes seem clouded by pain, fatigue.

“Yes, of course I’m fine, can’t you see me? I’m fine, just let me help you...” he adds, stopping his hand at the edge of his forehead, between two wounds that will probably leave their mark. It’s hot.

“You were dead.” he murmurs, with this heavy broken voice. “I saw you die... I couldn’t do anything for─I… I thought you─” he bites his lips, full and velvety, and tries to hold back a sob.

Magnus decides to hold that hand on his forehead to lighten his pain, and the other will be enough to heal him. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, my darling” he replies, smiling very soft. “Let me heal you at least a little bit, you have a high fever and... you’re just not in your best shape, eh? We will talk, and make out as soon as we both feel better”.

Alec half-closes his eyes. “You’ll stay here, right? You won’t leave, will you?”.

“Never, I’ll never go away,” Magnus tells him and casts an eloquent glance at Jace, who takes his stele and moves to draw a single rune, iratze, a couple of inches above that big gash.

Iratze will relieve Alec’s pain, while Magnus draws the blue fire of his magic between his fingers. Healing magic isn’t easy, and it isn’t his specialty but, for now, Magnus’ abilities must be enough, at least to remove all the ichor and the demon poison that has certainly now mixed with his blood.

Alec moans, again, but he doesn’t say anything, he keeps his eyes half-open fixed on Magnus. That black mist that only a few minutes ago darkened his eyes now a distant memory.

There is friction, that thing, that internecine war, that is inside Alec is rejecting Magnus’ magic, even if he lets it flow gently, so very cautiously on him. “Allow me to help you, Alexander, please” he sighs, bending down again to kiss his forehead. “Allow me, Alexander, I’ll make you feel better. I promise”.

It’s only when Alec sighs louder, his chest wiggling, that Magnus can finally act and suck away the ichor, the poison from that enormous wound and all the others.

It’s certainly not a conscious process, the one with which Alec was rejecting him and his blue healing fire, probably he didn’t even realize that something was pushing away Magnus’ magic, but if he managed to control this innate response, there are good hopes.

Perhaps, perhaps he knows Magnus’ magic well enough to be able to dose even what now burns in his veins. Maybe Magnus can afford to hope a little more.

Alec tightens his jaw and moves his head, wrinkles his nose and uncovers his teeth in a pained grimace.

Magnus then moves a hand to try to ease that pain, passing his fingers through Alec’s hair again, while with the other continues to wipe away the poison from his body.

From time to time he feels a bit of friction with that thing that Alec has in his body, and it is perhaps that kind of magic, of new essence that leaks into every cell, rather than the poison of a demon that makes it more painful. But iratze seems to help the healing process, it seems to alleviate his pain at the second activation and so Magnus orders Jace to activate the other one, sangliers , to replace the lost blood alongside the one now rotted by the poison.

This won’t be enough, because now Alec’s body is affected by that internecine war not only by the wounds and the poison and the blood loss, and Magnus will only be able to ease his pain, with as much energy he has stored.

The rest of the healing process, soon enough, will be up to Alec alone.

Please, Magnus asks the Angel or whatever energy lies above their heads, or under their feets, please let him live. Don't take him.

And then moves his eyes and looks at Alec’s pained grimace, his forehead furrowed, sweat and blood covered. And decides he has to ask Alec, and not some Gods, Angels or Saints, nor Demons. No one in heaven or hell cares for this, for his life. Don’t leave me, he asks silently. Don’t.

[ch4]

#malec #malec fic #malec angst #angst with happy ending #warlock alec lightwood #alec lightwood #magnus bane #pulvis et umbra natura renovantur integra

10 notes · View notes

hollyoaksloversx · 6 years

Text

Glenn Strikes Again...

Rounding up a week in Hollyoaks (30th July - 3rd August 2018)

Poor Kim Butterfield never can catch a break as this week saw her caught up in yet another life or death situation when she was shot by Glenn. The drama unfolded as Glenn remained determined to find out who Grace was seeing and he thought he’d hit the jackpot when he saw her manhandling Kim into The Loft. Unbeknownst to Glenn, Kim was merely there to confront Grace over her secret meetings with Farrah but Glenn didn’t wait to find this out and later shot Kim outside The Dog. I must take a moment here to congratulate Glenn on his excellent aim. Not only did he manage to shot his target outside a packed pub in broad daylight without anyone seeing him, but he also managed this whilst Kim was hugging Farrah. Nice work! The police soon descended on the village and Grace pointed them firmly in Glenn’s direction. Down at the station, Glenn realised he was in it up to his neck as Roxy took great delight in pointing out that he had a clear motive and no alibi. Fortunately for Glenn, help came in the shape of Maxine, when she provided him with an alibi and so Glenn was released without charge, much to Grace’s horror. In order to make sure that Grace never reported him again, Glenn ordered her to come back to him, threatening Kim’s life again if she didn’t...

Despite being off the hock with the police, Glenn knew that he still had the gun to deal with and so called on his little minion, Zack to dispose of it for him. Zack panicked when he realised what was in the parcel Glenn had given him and so hid it in the loft at home until he could figure out what to do next. Unfortunately, Simone found the box containing the gun and a horrified Zack grabbed it from her before she could see what was inside. Heading down to the school, he handed the gun back to Glenn and insisted he wanted nothing more to do with it, not realising that Maxine was standing inside the portakabin and had heard everything. The following day, Maxine finally found her backbone and threw Glenn out but she just as quickly accepted him back when Glenn ordered Zack to convince her that he’d had nothing to do with Kim’s shooting. Cue my TV going out the window...

Meanwhile, with the school about to re-open, Sally was on the hunt for a company to provide the catering, and Ste decided to make a pitch. With Ste and Leah distracted, Harry relished the opportunity to sneak out and visit James, telling Ste that he was seeing his counsellor. Harry struggled with being apart from James and so with the help of Milo and a bar of chocolate, snuck the world’s smallest mobile phone into the prison. However, Harry hadn’t been as clever as he thought as he hadn’t banked on Leah over-hearing him on the phone and later sneaking a peak at Harry’s phone to see who he’d been talking too. As Leah called the last person Harry had spoken to, she was shocked to hear James’ voice at the other end...

Elsewhere, Hunter continued to struggle with life and so took Sylver’s advice to visit Mac in hospital. However, once there, things took a sinister turn when a supposedly unresponsive Mac suddenly grabbed hold of Hunter’s arm. As Hunter shook Mac in at attempt to get him to repeat the action, he was interrupted by a young woman who looked remarkably like Neeta. Convinced that Neeta was still alive (well this is Hollyoaks and she very well could be), Hunter left a note for her at the hospital, asking her to get in touch. The woman later turned up in the village and introduced herself to Hunter as Neeta’s sister, Asha. The pair bonded over their memories of Neeta and as they later partied at Prince and Romeo’s rave, it seemed a spark was developing between the two...

Also this week, Sami got the shock of his life when Kyle returned to the village. Having run out of money, Kyle told Sami that he wasn’t prepared to continue playing dead without a cash injection and decided that £10,000 should cover it. But who on earth can get their hands on that sort of money? Well, by a stroke of luck, Yasmine’s inheritance came through and it just so happened that she’d been left £10,000. In a moment of madness, Sami took the money but later had a change of heart and returned it. Yasmine could see her older Brother was worried about something and he lied to her that he was having money worries and needed £10,000. Kind-hearted Yaz offered Sami the money, and he couldn’t say no. But whilst Sami had got himself out of one mess, he was about to get himself into another when he missed Ellie’s scan, and she was forced to turn to Marnie for comfort when she was given devastating news...

In other news this week, Prince and Romeo teamed up to hold illegal raves but faced opposition from Lily when she deliberately cancelled their alcohol delivery. However, she eventually came round when she saw how much money Prince could be bringing in. Finally, Imran and Ollie fought for Brooke’s affections and both lads were delighted when she agreed to a date. However, they failed to realise that she’d said yes to both of them!

5 Things We Learnt This Week:

1. Standards at The Bean are slipping, as Simone was given a dirty cup for the second time that week. Shocking, especially given that it was only Monday. This would never have happened when Esther was there!

2. Roxy’s been watching too much Coronation Street. I swear I heard her make the famous ‘Audrey Roberts noise’ whilst she was interrogating Glenn.

3. If there was an award for ‘biggest idiot in Hollyoaks’, Maxine would win hands down (and that would be a tough category). You’d think she’d have learnt to be a bit more skeptical after everything she went through with Patrick.

4. Ste needs to work on his balls if he’s going to impress Sally at his catering pitch. Apparently they’re ‘hanging’ (and that’s not what you want).

5. Milo’s advertising himself as a tech wizard and claims he can get his hands on anything. He may have got hold of the world’s tiniest mobile, but he could he create a machine to wipe Glenn from existence?

One Last Thing:

I don’t know what that giant unicorn’s purpose is, but I want one.

Characters Featured:

Asha, Brooke, Ds Roxy Cassidy, Ellie, Farrah, Glenn, Grace, Harry, Hunter, Imran, James, Kim, Kyle, Leah, Lily, Mac, Marnie, Maxine, Milo, Minnie, Misbah, Nancy, Oliver, Prince, Romeo, Sami, Sally, Simone, Ste, Sylver, Yasmine and Zack.

Past Characters Mentioned:

Mike Barnes, Dirk Savage, Adam Donovan, Neeta Kaur, Ryan Knight

#Hollyoaks #Highlight #Glenn Donovan #Grace Black #Kim Butterfield #Farrah Maalik #DS Cassidy #James Nightingale #Ste Hay #Harry Thompson #Leah Barnes #Sami Maalik #Ellie Nightingale #Marnie Nightingale #Romeo Quinn #Oliver Morgan #Brooke Hathaway #Imran Maalik

4 notes · View notes

flawsinourcxdexarchived-blog · 6 years

Text

Connor TimeLine, According to My Muse and After Watching GamePlays Heavily Inspired by some of the playthrough of Jacksepticeye Italics are headcanons woven into Connor’s storyline

Officially put together on August 8th, 2038

Connor already shows the behavioral tics of one with Asperger’s Syndrome, possibly considered a flaw, but none of the designers seemed concerned, and thus it wasn’t noted on his file.

During the hostage scene, Connor saved the officer who had been shot by Daniel, and successfully saved Emma, but it resulted in Connor falling to his death off of the rooftop, resulting in his fear of heights later on.

Upon meeting Hank at Jimmy’s Bar, he remained insistent, but offered to buy Hank a drink for the road, which Hank accepted.

During the interrogation of Ortiz’ android, Connor could not successfully manage to get a confession, so he had to probe the android’s memory. After trying to intervene when the android started self destructing afterwards, he was shot in the head.

During the “Wait for Hank” sequence, Connor ended up meeting Gavin before reconnecting with Hank, and tried to offer an olive branch by getting Gavin some coffee. The rejection was a bit expected.

While investigating the lead on Kara and Alice, Connor did spot them and gave chase, but Hank kept Connor from climbing the fence, ending with Kara and Alice running across the highway and escaping.

At the Chicken Feed, Connor kept the conversation pleasant, beginning to earn some of Hank’s warmer feelings towards him.

Chasing Rupert did not go as planned; Connor opted to let Rupert escape in an effort to save Hank from falling off the roof, gaining Hank’s approval and gratitude.

After breaking into Hank’s house to sober him up, Connor found Cole’s picture on the table, and he asked Hank about the gun on the floor, learning of Hank’s game of Russian Roulette.

At the Eden Club, Connor fought the two Traci’s, mainly in self defense, and spared both of their lives, ending with their escape.

While at the park, Connor learned about Cole, and admitted to Hank that he was afraid to die. When asked what would happen if Hank pulled the trigger, Connor said he doubted there would be a Heaven for androids.

During “Public Enemy” at the broadcast tower, Connor ran into the officer from “Hostage”, who thanked him for saving his life. He also interrogated the three androids in the kitchen, was attacked and left to die. He was able to save himself and ran to stop the deviant, using Chris’ gun to shoot the deviant before it could attack anyone else. Though expressing regret over the deviant being killed, Hank assured him that he saved human lives. (Because fuck everything, I hate seeing Simon die.)

At Kamski’s house, he refused to shoot Chloe.

When on a last ditch effort to find Jericho, Connor tricked the deviant from the broadcast tower to earn the clues to Jericho’s location.

Connor met Markus, who was successful in giving Connor the last nudge he needed to break his programming, becoming a deviant and joining Jericho, saving Markus and North during their escape from the ship before the bomb could explode.

Connor was able to successfully infiltrate CyberLife Tower, opting to save Hank’s life from his clone, and using the knowledge he had on Cole to convince Hank he was the real Connor.

During Markus’ victory speech to the crowd, Connor was successful in breaking free from Amanda and CyberLife, stopping himself from assassinating Markus.

#; relevant to connor #; analyzing evidence (connor)

4 notes · View notes

livinginlandmarketing · 3 years

Link

They were little more than pickup basketball games, but they were unlike any other game played before.

The 1947 contests, in a gym at the Navy hospital in Norco, changed the lives of the players — each one in a wheelchair — and helped alter the way we think about people with physical limitations.

They were games played by two teams of heroes — wounded soldiers, sailors and Marines — all recovering from paralysis or the loss of limbs from serving on the front lines of World War II. Wheelchair basketball this week is the centerpiece of the Paralympic Games going on in Tokyo — but in 1947 it was pretty unusual to have recovering military members participating in organized sports.

It began when Dr. Gerald H. Gray, a physician at the hospital then known as the U.S. Naval Hospital, Corona, visited the Birmingham VA hospital in Van Nuys in March 1947 and was impressed to find patients playing basketball from their wheelchairs.

After watching them soundly defeat a team of doctors in wheelchairs, Dr. Gray invited the Birmingham team to come to Norco to play his own patients — a team which then was organized only in his mind.

Members of the Rolling Devils of the U.S. Naval Hospital in Norco line up before a game played in 1947 in Oakland. Players are, from left, Max Weber, Neil Harris, Louis Larger, Bill Ducker, John Winterholler, Pete Simon, Noel Smith, Kent McKnight and Gerald Fesenmeyer. At rear are Dr. Gerald H. Gray and coach Bill O’Connell. (Photo provided by Kevin Bash)

“We challenged the boys from Birmingham … and did we take a licking! But the boys were sold,” Dr. Gray said in an interview given to the Oakland Tribune, May 20, 1947.

After some quick practice, the Norco team — they christened themselves the Rolling Devils — inflicted a bit of revenge on Birmingham three days later. “We licked the pants off them,” said Dr. Gray.

Related links

Here’s how the Navy’s hospital in Norco was key during WWII

Norco in battle with Navy over WWII military hospital’s historic significance

Paralympics open despite COVID-19 conditions in Tokyo worse than during the Olympics

Paraplegics had played basketball against able-bodied people riding in wheelchairs elsewhere, but the two games in Norco — March 18 and 21, 1947 — were the first-ever wheelchair games in which both teams were paraplegics, according to the National Wheelchair Basketball Association.

Both teams went on to play many games with other teams.

The Rolling Devils in the next two months defeated 22 straight opponents — mostly clubs or universities with able-bodied players playing in wheelchairs. The Birmingham team, the Flying Wheels, later went on a nationwide tour.

Norco’s Rolling Devils were led by a truly remarkable man — Marine Col. John Winterholler, a star basketball player at University of Wyoming before enlisting in the Marines in 1940. Captured by the Japanese in the Philippines at the start of World War II, he was part of the infamous Bataan Death March.

Barely surviving his ordeal as a POW, he was left paralyzed from the waist down. Winterholler regained his strength at Norco, and when Dr. Gray suggested forming a team, he embraced the thought of playing again.

Navy nurse and physical therapist Elizabeth Kinzer O’Farrell in her book “WWII … A Navy Nurse Remembers,” recalled that the medical staff at Norco was a bit hesitant to allow men with significant medical issues to play a potentially rugged sport. But the improvement seen in the players’ physical and mental well-being was immediate.

“Suddenly, we were seeing our patients beginning to feel like men, not … waiting around to be sent to a veterans hospital for the rest of their lives, or worse, home to become an object of pity and burden to their families,” wrote O’Farrell, who worked at Norco in 1947 and 1948.

Norco’s Rolling Devils won 22 straight games in 1947. (Photo provided by Kevin Bash)

“The patients seemed more confident, as though they had somehow proved to themselves if not yet to anyone else that they could succeed at something, and that just maybe if they really tried they might be able to make some kind of life for themselves.”

Even just watching fellow wounded men involved in such rigorous activity was an inspiration to many.

Dr. Gray said one Marine who had been shot and paralyzed in the battle at Iwo Jima arrived at Norco overwhelmingly depressed.

“He laid motionless in bed and when anyone approached he covered his head,” Dr. Gray told the Tribune. “He didn’t talk, he didn’t smile, but once he had played basketball.”

It took a while but “talk of the game got him down to the gym where he watched from the sidelines. The ball felt pretty good when he picked it up. He tossed one toward the basket. It went in,” said Dr. Gray.

A breakthrough had been achieved. That Marine was later released to his home from the hospital. Gray said he had then become “a fast-talking, free and easy fellow who will be able to make his way over the tough places.”

“It was indeed a historic game,” wrote Armand Thiboutot, author of “Wheelchairs Can Jump, A History,” about the 1947 games at Norco. “This pioneering match swiftly led to the formation, in 1948, of the National Wheelchair Basketball Association. The NWBA now provides dedicated administrative support to more than 200 teams, children and adults, as well as U.S. veterans injured in recent conflicts.”

A national wheelchair basketball tournament was first held in 1948, and the sport first appeared in the Olympic Games in Rome in 1960. More than 4,000 athletes are competing in a variety of sports at the Paralympics underway now in Tokyo.

“At first, wheelchair sports were shocking to many people, said David Davis, author of the recently released book, “Wheels of Courage: How Paralyzed Veterans from World War II Invented Wheelchair Sports, Fought for Disability Rights and Inspired a Nation.”

“If you were in a wheelchair you were pretty much stuck at home, or in an institution,” he said in an article last November in the New Orleans Times-Picayune. “The president (Franklin Roosevelt) got around in a wheelchair but he did not let himself be photographed in a wheelchair.”

But playing basketball from a wheelchair “showed that they could participate in life,” said Davis, a Los Angeles-based writer.

He also pointed out that the sport helped pave the way for later passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act, bringing curb cuts, ADA bathrooms, ramps and railings and other improvements to assist everyone, whether permanently and temporarily physically limited.

In 2014 and 2016, in tribute to the role the Rolling Devils played in athletics, the city of Norco sponsored wheelchair basketball tournaments in the gym in which those first two games were played in 1947.

Success story

I got a note from reader Andy McCue, following our earlier column on the naval hospital at Norco. He pointed out that one of the thousands of World War II patients treated at the hospital was baseball owner and sports promoter Bill Veeck.

Veeck, future owner of the Chicago White Sox, Cleveland Indians and the St. Louis Browns, was a 29-year-old Marine in the Pacific battle at Bougainville when his leg was badly damaged by a recoiling anti-aircraft gun.

He was sent to the hospital at Norco where he undertook the first of more than 30 operations for both bone damage and infections. He used an artificial leg for the rest of his life.

While a patient at Norco and still owner of the then-minor-league Milwaukee Brewers, he reportedly stayed busy negotiating contracts for his team and was rumored to be in the market for buying the White Sox, which he denied, according to news accounts.

After being released from Norco, he bought the Indians in 1947 and later signed the first African American — Larry Doby — to play in the American League.

Veeck, who died in 1987, was inducted into Baseball’s Hall of Fame in 1991.

Cool help needed

Upland’s Cooper Museum has a broken air conditioning unit that prevents it from reopening until it can be replaced.

The museum is seeking donations to fund this drive for cool air. Fully tax-deductible checks can be sent to the museum at 217 E. A St., Upland 91786, or go to https://ift.tt/3t7kB8L.

Joe Blackstock writes on Inland Empire history. He can be reached at [email protected] or Twitter @JoeBlackstock. Check out some of our columns of the past at Inland Empire Stories on Facebook at https://ift.tt/2UooDN3

-on August 30, 2021 at 08:58AM by Joe Blackstock

#riversidenews

0 notes

frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 4 years

Photo

30th August >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 16:21-27 for the Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A: ‘You are an obstacle in my path’.

Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Matthew 16:21-27

'Get behind me, Satan!'

Jesus began to make it clear to his disciples that he was destined to go to Jerusalem and suffer grievously at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, to be put to death and to be raised up on the third day. Then, taking him aside, Peter started to remonstrate with him. ‘Heaven preserve you, Lord;’ he said ‘this must not happen to you.’ But he turned and said to Peter, ‘Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle in my path, because the way you think is not God’s way but man’s.’

Then Jesus said to his disciples, ‘If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it. What, then, will a man gain if he wins the whole world and ruins his life? Or what has a man to offer in exchange for his life?

‘For the Son of Man is going to come in the glory of his Father with his angels, and, when he does, he will reward each one according to his behaviour.’

Gospel (USA)

Matthew 16:21–27

Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself.

Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised. Then Peter took Jesus aside and began to rebuke him, “God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.” He turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life? Or what can one give in exchange for his life? For the Son of Man will come with his angels in his Father’s glory, and then he will repay all according to his conduct.”

Reflections (5)

(i) Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

As people of faith, one of the questions we can find ourselves asking is, ‘What does God want of me?’ We may not always manage to do what God wants, but we seek to know what God wants, because we recognize that our calling, rooted in baptism, is to live our lives according to God’s will for us. One of the opening petitions of the Lord’s Prayer is ‘your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven’. We are praying there that God’s will would be done in and through our lives; we are asking that our lives would be a reflection of what God wants. Jesus taught us that prayer as someone whose own life was the fullest reflection of what God wants. God’s will was being done in his life, just as it was done in heaven. To that extent, Jesus brought something of heaven to earth. We strive to be like him, in this respect. At the end of today’s second reading, Paul speaks about the importance of discovering ‘the will of God… what it is that God wants’, which he identifies as ‘what is good… what is the perfect thing to do’.

This is certainly a goal that is worthy of our identity as people created in the image of God and, through baptism, clothed with Christ and filled with the Holy Spirit. Yet, we know that we don’t always manage to do what God wants, the good and perfect thing. Even someone as close to Jesus as Peter struggled to do what God wants. In last Sunday’s gospel reading, Jesus praised Peter’s faith and addressed him as the rock on which he would build his church. In today’s gospel reading, the continuation of last Sunday’s gospel, Jesus addresses Peter as Satan, and identifies him not as a rock but as an obstacle, a stumbling stone. Why such a change in Jesus’ attitude towards Peter in such a short space of time? For the first time in the gospel story, Jesus tells his disciples that his commitment to doing the will of his Father would cost him great suffering and eventually his life. Peter’s reaction to what Jesus said was understandable, ‘This must not happen to you’. None of us want people we value and love to suffer, much less to die prematurely. Yet, Jesus experienced Peter’s reaction as a temptation; he was being tempted by Peter to take an easier path, just as he had been tempted by Satan to take an easier path during his time in the wilderness before he began his public ministry. It was an enticing temptation and Jesus had to react very strongly to it. Jesus recognized that the way Peter was thinking was ‘not God’s way but man’s’. Peter wanted to protect Jesus but that was not what God wanted. It was not that God wanted his Son to suffer, but God wanted Jesus to be faithful to his mission, even though it would mean suffering and death. Peter was struggling to align himself with what God wanted. On this occasion, ‘the perfect thing to do’ would have been for Peter to accept the painful message that Jesus was trying to convey, namely, that if Jesus, was to be faithful to his mission of revealing God’s loving mercy to all, then there was no way to avoid the cross, either for himself or his followers.

If Peter, the rock on which the church was built, struggled to do what God wants, to think and speak in God’s way, the rest of us will certainly struggle. Being a faithful follower of Jesus won’t always come easy to us. As Jesus goes on to say in the gospel reading, it will often involve renouncing ourselves, just as Peter had to renounce his desire that Jesus take a less demanding path. In that second reading Paul is clear that doing what God wants will often put us at odds with what he calls there ‘the behaviour of the world around you’. Putting on the mind of Christ, what Paul calls in that reading, ‘your new mind’ and thinking and speaking and acting out of that mind-set of Christ will often leave us at odds with the world around us, and that will often involve an element of real self-renunciation. The Christian vocation can be costly.

Yet, living as disciples of Jesus in today’s world isn’t just a question of constantly climbing up a steep cliff face under our own strength. In the first reading, Jeremiah is struggling to keep faithful to his costly vocation, saying aloud, ‘I will not think about the Lord. I will not speak in his name anymore’. Then, he says, he became aware of a fire burning in his heart, driving him on. That same fire burns in all our hearts. It is the fire of the Holy Spirit empowering us to do what God wants, to follow in the way of Jesus, even when it is costly. Jesus assures us in the gospel that if we are faithful to that divine fire within us, even though it may involve a loss, we will find our true selves. We will become all that God has created us to be, alive with the Lord’s own life.

And/Or

(ii) Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Most of us have to deal with a certain amount of conflict in our lives from time to time. Sometimes the conflict can be over something relatively minor and it gets resolved easily and we move on from it quickly. At other times, the conflict can be about something very important. Fundamental issues can be involved, and the fall out from the conflict can be much more serious. In these more serious conflicts, everyone involved needs to reflect as to whether their strong stance is motivated by values that are important and need defending, or by more selfish concerns. We need to ask ourselves, ‘What is it that is really driving me to take this stand that is bringing me into conflict with others?’ ‘Is there an issue here that needs to be fought for, or do I just want what suits me?’

The gospel reading this morning portrays a moment of real conflict between Jesus and Peter. The one whom Jesus had just declared to be the rock on which he would build his church, he now addresses as a stumbling stone. He whose name was Simon, and whom Jesus had just named ‘Peter’ or ‘Rock’, is now given the name ‘Satan’ or ‘adversary’. How quickly a moment of great communion between Jesus and Simon became a moment of very serious conflict. If we reflect on this conflict as outside observers, we can see what was going on easily enough. Jesus spoke a truth that Peter found difficulty to accept; Jesus declared where his mission was inevitably leading him, to death on a cross. Jesus spoke out of a strong sense of reality, whereas Peter responded out of a desire to protect Jesus at all costs, and probably himself as well. What Jesus said was shaped by God’s way of thinking, what Peter said was shaped by a very human way of thinking.

Perhaps that is why we can so readily identify with Peter, both in this scene and in all the other scenes of the gospel where he is present. He thinks and speaks as we tend to think and speak. In today’s gospel we can all sympathize with the struggle in Peter to face up to a very painful reality. We all have a tendency to protect ourselves and those we care about from bad news. We hold back from speaking a truth that we know is going to be difficult for someone to hear. We ourselves have a way of not hearing what we do not want to hear, what is painful to hear. Sometimes our inability or unwillingness to hear what we need to hear but do not want to hear can bring us into conflict with others. The person who brings us this painful news can easily become the problem, and we can fail to see that the problem is more within ourselves. Reality can be hard to bear; truth can be painful. Yet, Jesus’ reply to Peter in today’s gospel reading - ‘the way you think is not God’s way but man’s’ - suggests that God’s way is the way that faces up to reality, and that God is always to be found in the truth, however painful that truth might be.

It was God’s way, or God’s will, that Jesus should remain faithful to his mission of preaching the gospel of God’s kingdom, even if this led to Jesus being put to death on a cross. This was the painful reality or truth that Peter found hard to accept and that he reacted so strongly to. It is also God’s will that we ourselves remain faithful followers of his Son, Jesus, even though this will often mean taking the more difficult path. Jesus declares in today’s gospel that following him will sometimes mean renouncing ourselves and taking up our cross, as he had to do. Jesus implies that following him, remaining faithful to his way, will not always be easy. The language Jesus uses of renouncing ourselves if we are to be his followers does not have much of a contemporary ring to it. Self-renunciation is not really in vogue. You could argue that what is more in vogue in today’s culture is self-promotion, self-fulfilment, self-satisfaction. Yet, it is very much the gospel message that it is in giving that we receive, it is in reaching beyond ourselves for the sake of Christ that we ultimately find ourselves. In the words of the gospel reading, ‘anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it’. A way of putting that in more contemporary terms is that we find happiness, not by looking for happiness directly, but by reaching towards something more fundamental than happiness, namely, the kind of generous service of God and neighbour that Jesus demonstrated by his way of life.

We will often find a resistance within ourselves to this gospel truth, this call to reach beyond ourselves for the sake of Christ, the kind of resistance we find in Peter and in Jeremiah in today’s readings. Both of them felt the strong urge to protect themselves from what they perceived to be the painful consequences of the Lord’s call. Peter said, ‘Lord, this must not happen to you’. Jeremiah said, ‘I will not think about him anymore’. Such reactions are very understandable. Yet, both of them overcame their resistances and went on to find themselves by giving themselves away for the Lord and his people. Jeremiah spoke about a fire burning in his heart which he simply could not ignore. There is something of that fire burning in all of us; it is the fire of God’s spirit, the fire of love urging us to give ourselves to the service of the Lord and his people. The gospel reading today suggests that it is only in attending to this fire and keeping it burning that we will find true happiness.

And/Or

(iii) Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

We often speak about someone being all fired up about something. We use that expression when people have a passion for something or someone. Their passion can be such that they are quite prepared to endure all kinds of hardships in pursuit of it. Some people are all fired up about climbing mountains. They have a passion to scale the heights, in the very literal sense; there is something in them that drives them to conquer the highest peaks in the world, even thought they are well aware of the dangers involved. Parents are fired up about their children; they are passionate about them. They gladly endure all kinds of discomfort to be with their children and to care and provide for them.

Jeremiah in this morning’s first reading speaks out of that experience of being fired up. He refers to a fire burning in his heart, imprisoned in his bones, and he declares that the effort to restrain this fire wearies him. He cannot really restrain this fire; he has to give expression to it in what he says and does. Jeremiah is clearly speaking about a very deep passion, a very great enthusiasm. The passion he refers to is his passion to proclaim the word of God; the fire burning in his heart is the fire of God’s word. Giving expression to this passion brought him a lot of suffering, because the word from God that was burning within him was not a word that people wanted to hear. It was a word of warning, a word of challenge and it has meant for him, ‘insult and derision all day long’. Yet, he has to speak this word, so strongly is it burning with him. The fire that is burning in his heart is God’s fire, and such a fire cannot really be ignored.

There is a sense in which we are all called to allow something of God’s fire to burn within our hearts. You are probably familiar with the well-known prayer to the Holy Spirit, ‘Come Holy Spirit, fill my heart, and enkindle in me the fire of your love’. In that prayer we are praying that the fire of God’s love would burn in our hearts. That language of a fire burning within human hearts is often used in the New Testament with reference to the Christian life. In one of his letters to Timothy, Paul calls upon Timothy to ‘fan into a living flame the gift of God that is within you’. Paul was aware that God had lit a fire within Timothy’s heart, and he was calling on Timothy to keep that flame burning. If any of you have been to a baptism recently you will have heard that same language. The father or the godfather lights the baptismal candle from the paschal candle, and the celebrant says, ‘This light is entrusted to you to be kept burning brightly’, and then goes on to say, ‘Keep the flame of faith alive in his/her heart’. Baptism is the moment when God lights his fire deep within us, the fire of his love, the fire of Christ who is the fullest expression of God’s love. Our calling then is to keep that fire burning within us, with the help of the Holy Spirit.

We are only too aware that there are other fires blazing in our world that are not expressions of God’s fire. We might think of the physical fires that are caused by hatred and prejudice, the fires of sectarianism, the fires of vandalism. There are passions and enthusiasms in our world that are not in keeping with the passions and enthusiasms of the Lord. Paul seems to be referring to that in our second reading this morning when he contrasts behaviour that is modelled on the world with behaviour that is shaped by our ‘new mind’, the mind of Christ. Similarly, in the gospel reading, Jesus contrasts how God thinks with how humans often think. He says to Peter, ‘the way you think is not God’s way but man’s’. There was a different kind of fire burning within Peter to the fire that was burning within Jesus. The fire burning within Peter was the fire of self-preservation. Peter’s passion was to preserve Jesus from any kind of suffering. ‘Heaven preserve you’, he said, when Jesus began to speak of his suffering and death. In seeking to preserve Jesus from suffering, Peter was most likely also trying to preserve himself from it. However, the fire that burned within Jesus was not the fire of self-preservation but the fire of self-giving, the fire of God’s love which led him to give himself in service of others, even if that meant having to take the way of the cross.

Jesus goes on to call on his followers to allow that same fire to burn within them. ‘If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let them renounce themselves and take up their cross and follow me’. On one occasion in the gospels Jesus said, ‘I came to bring fire to the earth and how I wish it were already kindled’. Jesus wants the fire burning within him to burn within the hearts of all of us - the fire of God’s kingdom, of God’s love, God’s truth, God’s justice, and that is why we need to keep on praying, ‘Come Holy Spirit, fill our hearts and enkindle in us the fire of your love’.

And/Or

(iv) Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Most of us do not go looking for suffering. We tend to avoid it as best we can. We certainly do not want suffering for those we love. We would go to any lengths to preserve our loved ones from suffering. When those we care about suffer, we suffer with them. Parents suffer when their child suffers. A married person suffers when his or her spouse suffers. A son or daughter suffers when their mother or father suffers. When we have an emotional connection with someone, whatever happens to them affects us deeply. It can affect us to such an extent that their suffering drains us of energy and we can find it difficult to engage with life.

When Jesus spoke about his forthcoming suffering at the hands of his enemies in today’s gospel reading, we can sympathize with Peter’s reaction, ‘Heaven preserve you Lord! This must not happen to you’. Jesus had come to mean a great deal to Peter; he was at the centre of Peter’s life. Peter had given up his profession as a fisherman to follow Jesus. All that Jesus was saying and doing was having a transforming effect on Peter. Jesus’ talk about his immanent suffering and death in Jerusalem, the city towards which they were journeying, was completely unacceptable to Peter; it was too painful to hear. Yet, Jesus knew that this was the destiny that awaited him if he was to remain true to his calling and mission, and Peter would have to come to terms with this painful truth. This explains Jesus’ very stern rebuke of Peter – ‘Get behind me Satan! You are an obstacle in my path, because the way you think is not God’s way but man’s’. Peter would have to learn to accept that if Jesus was the Christ, he would be crucified Christ, and following such a Christ would make huge demands on Peter, and on all who would be Jesus’ followers.

It has been said that in this gospel scene Peter represents the paradoxical existence of every Christian caught between faith and doubt. In last Sunday’s gospel reading, if you remember, Peter showed great faith, addressing Jesus, ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God’. In this Sunday’s gospel reading, he has his doubts about Jesus; he reacts very negatively to what Jesus says about himself. In last Sunday’s gospel reading, Jesus addressed Peter as a rock; in this morning’s gospel reading, Jesus addresses him as Satan, an obstacle in his path. Peter serves to remind us that a faith which seems rock-like one moment can be a very fragile faith the next moment. Sometimes, as in the case of Peter, it can be the experience of suffering that can make our faith waver. Peter’s strong faith in Jesus as the Son of the living God seems to have been shaken once Jesus spoke of himself as having to suffer grievously and to be put to death. An experience of suffering, either in our own lives or in the lives of those we love, can put our own faith to the test. This can be especially the case if, having prayed out of the depths of some experience of suffering, our prayer appears to go unanswered. Like Peter in today’s gospel reading, we struggle to hold together our belief in the Lord of life and love and the painful reality of suffering and death. Even Jesus seems to have struggled to hold together his faith in God and the awful reality of his own dark suffering on the cross as he cried out in desolate prayer, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ Sometimes that kind of prayer is the only prayer we can manage at times of great suffering. Yet, such a prayer of protest against God can be the most authentic prayer of all. Jeremiah’s conversation with God in today’s first reading is very much a prayer of protest, ‘You have seduced me, Lord, and I have let myself be seduced’. If prayer is a form of conversation with God, it does not always have to be polite conversation. When our prayer comes out of an experience of deep suffering that makes very little sense to us, it can take the form of an argument with God, like Jeremiah’s prayer. Such a prayer is, in itself, an expression of faith. It is the form our faith takes when it is shaken to the core by an experience of great suffering.

In the midst of his suffering, Jeremiah remained true to what he called the fire burning in his heart, imprisoned in his bones. When he was tempted to turn his back on the Lord because of his suffering, he still felt the fire of the Lord’s presence, burning deep within him. Like Jeremiah, even in those times when we are more aware of the presence of suffering than we are of the presence of the Lord, the fire of his presence continues to burn deep within us. The Lord continues to call out to us. He calls on us to remain faithful to him. In the words of Saint Paul in today’s second reading, he calls on us to offer our lives to him, to keep trying to discover the will of God, what it is that God wants of us, what is the good and perfect thing to do.

And/Or

(v) Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

It is only natural that we try to protect those we care about from suffering. Sometimes we would rather suffer ourselves than have those we are close to suffer. This is certainly true of parents in relation to their children. They would sacrifice themselves to protect their children. We all have that instinct to protect those we have strong feelings for, those who mean a great deal to us. Yet, when we are dealing with adults, there sometimes comes a time when we have to give those we care deeply about the freedom to take risks and to expose themselves to suffering so they can be true to their deepest calling.

In the gospel reading, when Jesus spoke about the suffering that awaited him in Jerusalem that would lead to his death, Peter reacted very strongly to what Jesus said. He rebuked Jesus for saying such a thing, ‘this must never happen to you’. Peter had just confessed Jesus to be the Messiah, the Son of the living God. Such a person in whom God was powerfully at work could not suffer at the hands of the religious leaders and be put to death. Yet, if Peter reacted strongly to what Jesus said, Jesus reacted even more strongly to what Peter said, ‘Get behind me Satan, you are an obstacle – a stumbling stone – in my path’. Jesus had just declared Peter to be the rock on which he would build his church. Now Jesus addresses him as Satan. The foundation stone had become a stumbling stone. For Jesus to address Peter as Satan is very strong language indeed. Jesus saw Peter’s attitude as a temptation, on a par with Satan’s temptations in the wilderness, at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. On both occasions, Jesus was being tempted to take the easier path, to preserve himself at all costs. This was a very real temptation for Jesus, which is why he reacted to it with such force.

The instinct for self preservation is very strong in all of us. It is a very necessary and healthy instinct. It prevents us from rashly exposing ourselves to unnecessary danger. This instinct is not fully developed in very young children, which is way parents have to be on the lookout for them. Yet, if the self preservation instinct is the dominant driving force of all we do, we will never live to our full potential. There are times when we need to take the more difficult and vulnerable path. It is not that we chose the difficult path because it is difficult, but because it is the path that is true to what is deepest and best in ourselves, that allows us to be faithful to our values. As followers of the Lord, we value what he values. Remaining faithful to our relationship with him, living in tune with his daily calling, will often mean dying to the self-preservation instinct, so as to live more fully for others.

Jesus was very aware that if he was to be faithful to his Father’s call to proclaim the gospel, it would entail for him the way of the cross, the way of rejection, suffering and death. Given the way the world was organized, there was no other option. For someone like Peter to appeal to Jesus’ self preservation instinct was to do the work of Satan. Having resisted the temptation of Peter in such strong terms, Jesus immediately applied his own predicament to that of his followers, including Peter. ‘If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself, take up his cross, and follow me’. This is one of the more challenging sayings of Jesus in the gospels.

It is a saying of Jesus that has sometimes been misunderstood. The call to take up our cross has been heard as a call to passively accept whatever suffering comes our way. Yet, Jesus could not have meant that. He was fiercely critical of those whose self-centred attitudes and behaviour brought suffering down upon others, especially on the weak and powerless. He insisted that those who had the resources should relieve the sufferings of others, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, housing the homeless. His call to take up our cross is a call to be faithful to his way of life, even if it brings us into conflict with others who are advocating a very different way, even if it means painful conflict and great loss. He assures us in that gospel reading that any loss we may experience in our struggle to be faithful to his call will be small in comparison to the gain we will receive. ‘Anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it’.

This morning’s second reading suggests that Saint Paul was of one mind with Jesus in this matter. He says there, ‘do not model yourselves on the behaviour of the world around you, but let your behaviour change, modelled by your new mind’. He understood that if we try to live out of the mind of Christ it will bring us into conflict with the behaviour of the world around us, and this will mean the way of the cross. Jesus said to Peter, ‘the way you think is not God’s way but man’s’. Peter had to learn to grow into the mind of Christ. Our own baptismal calling is to grow into the mind of Christ.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

0 notes