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therealbeachfox · 2 months

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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

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We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

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So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

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Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

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We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

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They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

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There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

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It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

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When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

#gay marriage #gay rights #gay history #gay

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katakaluptastrophy · 28 days

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"I’ve already pretty much revealed that Alecto begins with the descent of Christ into Hades." - Tamsyn Muir

That's right...it's time for more Bible study for fans of weird queer necromancers!

It's currently Holy Week, the week where Western liturgical Christians reenact the events of Jesus' death and resurrection in real time. And today, it's Holy Saturday. So Jesus died on the cross on Good Friday. He rises from the dead on Easter Sunday. But what happened in between? His body lay in the tomb...but his spirit was otherwise preoccupied. Because on Holy Saturday, Jesus went to Hell.

But why would Jesus go to Hell? Because the resurrection was not just about saving the people who came after it - it was a bit more...wibbly wobbly, timey wimey.

To be a bit more specific, he didn't visit Hell Hell. The place Jesus visited isn't Hell in the sense of eternal punishment of the damned, but Hades or Sheol or the Underworld or Limbo - a place for those who were mostly good but lived before Jesus' resurrection had made salvation possible. So before his resurrection, Jesus went to make that salvation retroactive. Particularly, according to tradition, to major figures from the Old Testament, including Adam and Eve.

So Nona the Ninth ended with Harrow walking off into the River in search of theological truth. And Alecto the Ninth apparently begins with Harrow in Hell:

Alecto the Ninth, ACT ONE HARROW IN HELL CHAPTER 1 At a point in the slit she was carving through life, Harrowhark Nonagesimus woke to find herself lost in a dark wound. She had been walking when it had all gone black– any path ahead or behind was blotted out; now she was here. - Tamsyn Muir reading at TorCon

This is riffing heavily on the beginning of Dante's Inferno:

"In the middle of the journey of our life I came to myself within a dark wood where the straight way was lost." - Dante Alighieri, Inferno

But lots of people go to Hell. What's so special about Harrow going there? Because the traditional name in English for Jesus' chthonic salvation adventures on Holy Saturday is "the Harrowing of Hell." "Harrow" comes from an Old English word meaning to attack or despoil - a very martial way of expressing the idea of Jesus as the victor over sin and death.

Harrow ended NTN realising that she cannot trust John's account of metaphysics. That she needs to discover the reality for herself. The faith of the Nine Houses and John's own styling as god rests on the foundation of the Resurrection - John is the "ransomer of death, scourge of death, vindicator of death", his power is understood to be absolute: "Let the whole of everywhere entrust themselves to him. Let those across the river pledge beyond the tomb to the adept divine."

And yet even that prayer - "let those across the river..." - introduces doubt. Magnus jumps in to silence Abigail when she expresses her heretical belief in the River beyond, and Harrow herself scoffs that "it has been thousands of years since anybody bothered to believe in the River beyond." Abigail believes that John knows nothing about what exists beyond the River. And what about Hell? In HTN, Ulysses the First is described as "languishing in Hell" after his run-in with a Resurrection Beast. John himself describes the stoma as "the mouth to Hell", "a portal to a place I cannot touch - somewhere I don't fully comprehend, where my power and my authority are utterly meaningless."

In the Book of Revelation - the Bible's account of the end of the world - Jesus holds "the keys of death and Hell". John may have resurrected the dead, but he does not comprehend what is beyond it. Both the destination of the good, the River beyond to which the souls of little Isaac and Jean should have traveled lightly after their short and brutal lives, and the Hell that lies beneath the stoma are outside of his power. He is a few keys short of the full divine bunch. He can manipulate death, but he is not really its master.

And so Harrow walks off into the River to look for something or someone she can call god. Harrow, who shares a name with the defeat of death across time and space. Harrow, who is of the unbroken line of Anastasia. Anastasia was kind to Alecto, who like Eve is the mother of all and like Adam walked on the empty earth with god.

In Orthodox icons, the Harrowing of Hell is depicted with Jesus triumphant, leading Adam and Eve by the hand from their tombs. The traditional term for this image is an anastasis, the Greek term for resurrection. Adam and Eve, whose sin broke the intended shape of reality, are restored to wholeness with god.

How will Harrow answer her questions about god? What really is beyond the stoma and what would it mean to conquer it? What does it look like, metaphysically, to restore the world of The Locked Tomb to wholeness, and what will it cost?

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #harrowhark nonagesimus #john gaius #alecto the first #anastasia the first

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stardust948 · 5 months

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do you have any zutara or atla fic recs?

Oh yes! I have plenty!

Fluffy fics

Questions & Answers by @gemgirl28

Kya and Lu Ten learn about the Hundred Years War, and Kya has a lot of questions for her Father about his role in the war. Or The Steambabies learn the origin of Zuko's scar.

A Month of Sundays by ok_boomerang

Fire Lord Zuko is desperately trying, and continuously failing, to successfully propose to Ambassador Katara. She's oblivious; everyone else is entertained. Meanwhile, Zuko is giving weekly Sunday speeches to the Fire Nation in an effort to help his people feel closer to their government. This effort was not supposed to include telling the entire Fire Nation about his plans for a future with Katara before even she knew about them. But it's fine! They promised not to tell!

Even Dragons Need Hugs by EKWolf2020

Zuko is missing his wife while off for business. While she is gone, he can't help but feel prickly and clearly misses having her near him.

Fire Dance by HomeAgainRose

Zuko goes with the gang following the events of Crossroads of Destiny. This is what happens when they're first in the Fire Nation and Aang ends up at the Fire Nation School. Katara wasn't exactly prepared for the feelings that come out.

little rays of starlight by JasmineTeaLatte

Izumi had been a mere babe during her first and only trip to the Southern Water Tribe, back before Druk had even joined their family or the twins were even born. She remembered freezing white snow flurries and huddling in her father’s arms for warmth, but little else... Or, the Fire Lord and his wife take their infant daughter out on a trip to see the Southern Lights during the crown princess' first visit to the Southern Water Tribe. Takes place in the timeline of "The Phoenix and the Dragon" but can be read as a standalone.

vitamin z by thetasteoflies

Katara has a cold and there's only one person in the world she wants to see.

Angst/More Mature Fics

Incendiary by Anon

Bizarrely, the first thing Katara felt was a wave of relief. Zuko. Not Ozai. They just wanted her to marry Prince Zuko. And then the horror of it washed over her, cold and harsh and insistent; an iron grip on her heart.

Past the World's Horizon by Mauve_Avenger / @the-badger-mole

When Katara finds herself with an unwanted secret admirer, she and Zuko end up on a frightening adventure.

The Scourge of the Mo Ce Sea by ajstyling

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and with one look at her face he understood the truth of her words. She would kill him and not lose a minute of sleep.

i'm still here by owedbetter

"You see me."

And somehow, that makes all the difference.

thicker than water by akaiiko

Zuko tries to pick up the pieces of Katara.

AUs/Slice of Life fics

The Worst Prisoner series by @emletish-fish

What if Sokka was there during the events of the Blue Spirit? What if he accidentally kidnapped Zuko? It's not a poor life choice of it's an accodent, right?

The Prince of the Fire Nation by HarrisonHolmes2014

Zuko was raised in the Fire Nation royal family alongside his sister Azula. He has never known any life outside the palace, his family, or his homeland. But when two slaves claim that he is their brother, Zuko must face a destiny he never asked for.

The Fire and the Flood by @badlucksav

Katara has lived in the same town with the same people her whole life, and since the death of her mother, she feels like her life has been on hold. But then she meets Zuko, an intriguing stranger, and everything changes.

what you want is what i want by zelzenik

Katara isn't alone. She has Bumi and Kya. The three of them are family.

Zuko isn't alone either. He has Izumi. The two of them are family.

But maybe... just maybe, they can all be family together.

It Runs In The Family by Anon

Katara and Zuko were a lot of things. War heroes. Master benders. Fire Lord and Fire Lady. Their favorite occupation? Parents. They'd managed to find each other again and had children, who are part of a brand new world and mixed nations family. While isn't exactly easy, as shown through a repeating series parent teacher conferences.

Or basically, steambaby shenanigans because they have Sokka as their uncle and how could they not be wreaking havoc?

Shameless Self Plugs

They have stolen the heart inside you; but this does not define you series

At a young age, Katara is taken to the Fire Nation as the first candidate in an experiment to assimilate the 'savages' instead of wiping them out. She grows up alongside the Royal Family before eventually escaping. Years later, an oddly familiar Fire Nation solider shows up at her village looking for the Avatar.

Kintsugi series

Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with gold. It treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise. Zuko is tortured by Ozai after helping Katara and Aang escape Ba Sing Se.

Head Above Water

While running away from home after the Agni Kai, Zuko befriends a curious mermaid. He later learns how protective merfolk are.

Dead Hearts

Ozai is a mass serial killer who forces Zuko to lure his victims to him. It’s the same drill for as long as Zuko could remember until his father sets eyes on the new girl who just moved from the Southern Water Tribe.

Let beauty come out of ashes

Zuko is done with Spirit tales. Everyone knew worthless nobodies like him didn’t receive happy endings. He wasn’t even allowed to go to the ball to see his love, a veiled waterbender he met in the woods, in person. Zuko lost all hope until a mysterious dragon helped him with a bit of magic.

Always With Me

While moving away from the only home she’d ever known, Katara finds herself spirited away to a strange in between realm. There, she struggles to ink out a living with the help of a mysterious masked boy who promised to get her home.

Are There Still Beautiful Things?

Katara befriends a lonely boy and they spend the summer together until he suddenly moves away. She doesn't learn the dark truth about why he left until years later.

#long post #atla #zutara #zutara fics #fanfic recs

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 3 months

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Amplification: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Summary: A deadly spread of Anthrax is going around infecting and killing people. One of your own is affected that completely tears your world into two. How will you over come this?

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

The bookstore has been closed ever since Albert died, and Gayle's purchase happened right before it closed down. It would explain why only three people were hit, and when General Whitworth sent his men in for testing, they came back positive for Anthrax.

Albert's bookstore was the unsub's test run. He's gotta have a history with the place, so Penelope needs to come up with a list of present and past employees of the place, customers with grievances against the owner, and if any of them had a science background.

An attack of Anthrax isn't meant to kill three people inside a bookstore, it wants to be out in the open where it can feed and multiply in the way that it wants to. Just a small amount can wipe everyone out, and they'd never see it coming.

Another hour goes by and the six survivors of the attack are now down to four. This attack is killing people left and right and there is nothing you can do about it. The more they die off, the more family members demand answers for what's happening.

"It feels like the plague of Egypt," Linda says.

"Ten scourges created by God. Plague six was unhealable boils believed by biblical scholars to be caused by Anthrax."

"You never missed Sunday school, did you?"

"Actually, I've never been before. How is she doing?" Spencer asks about Abby.

"She's a fighter. She's held on this long because she's young and strong, but she's started to bleed into her lungs. We're running into another problem, though. When the next of kin have questions, what do we tell them about the cause of death?"

That is a question only Hotch and General Whitworth can answer. You can't tell anyone anything without punishment if it didn't come from Hotch. Instead of thinking things like that, you can try and think of the unsub and profile you have on him. It might help your team catch whoever is doing this.

Because the locations aren't symbolically significant, the attacks are personal. Understanding the significance of the locations will be the key to identifying the unsub.

This personal element strongly indicates a home-grown terrorist like the Amerithrax case. This is someone from the science or defense community. That's why the CIA is here. Hotch thinks they may know him. These home-grown terrorists are myopic zealots that believe that their work is of the greatest importance.

He may have preached about the threat of an attack on America. His coworkers would describe him as histrionic, paranoid, and secretive. He may have logged excess hours at work in the past weeks preparing for the attack. He even might have taken the full dosage of Anthrax vaccines over the recommended eighteen-month schedule and had yearly boosters.

This guy has his own workspace where he makes his product in privacy. He also has access to large, expensive, industrial-grade equipment at work. He's written about the threats of Anthrax attacks and published papers about it, yet he feels no one is listening, and that angers him. Now, he may have recently experienced some sort of professional humiliation like being demoted or fired. Now, that would have been his trigger, the moment he decided to go rogue.

He may have betrayed his loved ones to his cause and may be recently separated or divorced. This is somebody who knows every detail of the 2001 Anthrax attack and has talked about what that suspect did right or wrong. He's watching the news very closely to see how the country reacts, and it's not a good one.

The CIA dug deep into their records and found a video of a classified hearing with the Subcommittee on Defense and Homeland Security in January of 2002. Dr. Lawrence Nichols used to work at the institution and left in 2002. The video is sent to your team at the hospital, Derek's team in Maryland, and the main office with everyone else. You and Spencer go into an empty hospital room to watch the video. Dr. Nichols went to the Senator to ask for money for a project he wanted to do with dangerous chemicals. He went to talk to the Senator about the attack in 2001 and why he should have funding for his project.

"Five people died. If you ask me, we're lucky it was just five. We're lucky that whoever sent these letters used cheap porous envelopes and not a crop duster. America's enemies are capable of wiping out entire cities, and we are woefully unprepared."

"I'm looking at your proposal--"

"Yes, sir," Dr. Nichols cuts the Senator off. "Every household needs gas masks and a two-month supply of Cipro for each resident. Every major city needs hospitals with bio-safety decontamination capabilities."

"Regarding the budget you propose for this operation--"

"Anything short of fifty billion would be grossly negligent."

"Dr. Nichols, you've got to realize how unrealistic that is. We can't justify spending that kind of money on an attack that may not happen."

"You people are in denial!" Dr. Nichols exclaims.

"Doing this would incite fear and panic among the public."

"This country should be panicked! We should live in utter fear of being attacked! We live in a time of war and WMD proliferation. If you continue to be blind to our lack of preparedness, then Americans will die, and I will have no problem in pointing the blame at you!"

The committee didn't fund his project and rejected him because he was becoming unstable and fanatical, which is why they removed him from Fort Detrick and blacklisted him from other prominent positions. Even though he believes in preparedness, he felt like people weren't listening. He might have done this to prove a point.

He fits the profile of the unsub to a T. He had access to research on Anthrax, had the resources available to do something like this, lost a highly respected job, and got divorced in the process. The job he has now is through a company called Bio-Design Technology that doesn't deal with Anthrax but with the Flu. If he got demoted from working with such deadly diseases to working with the flu, he might be angry enough to use Anthrax as a weapon.

Either way, you need to bring him in.

Derek pulled you and Spencer from the hospital to go to his house while Emily and Rossi went to his work to see if he was there. Along with you, Spencer, and Derek, a hazmat team joined you so they can clear the inside of his house. You have to wait outside until they're done with their investigation.

"It's clear so far," one of the members says when he hears from one of his men inside.

"Alright, keep me posted." Derek turns to you and Spencer. "This guy just had people over for a charity event last month."

"We should probably take a look around anyway."

You three walk to the backside of the property when Spencer hisses in pain. You look over to see rose bushes with thorns sticking out of the stems. He must have cut himself on the thorns but isn't too concerned about it. For someone who messes with Anthrax, his backyard isn't too sketchy. There is a pool with a beautiful gazebo area and lots of blooming flowers. Derek's phone rings and he answers whoever it is.

"Yeah, Princess, what's up? ... Uh-huh. Yeah, we're here now. ... Sorry. what? The lab is clean? ... You're sure? ... All right." You watch Derek as he talks to Emily. You're not paying attention to Spencer who goes off on his own. He turns to you and Spencer to tell you what she said. "They got nothin'--Where's Reid?"

You look behind you to see Spencer run into the large shed in the backyard. You and Derek quickly follow after him, but he slams the glass door to keep you and Derek out of some kind of lab.

"Spencer!" you gasp.

"Morgan! Y/N! Get back!"

"What the hell are you doing? What's wrong?"

"Believe me, get back."

"Reid, open this door!"

"Spencer, open the damn door!" you yell and slam your hands on the glass.

"I'm sorry. You can't come in here."

"No, open the door," you whimper. The only reason he would be trapped inside there and refuses to let anyone inside is that this is the place where Dr. Nichols created his Anthrax poison. "Spencer, no, open the door."

"I'm sorry," he sighs.

"Come on," Derek says and puts his hands on your shoulders.

"No!" you gasp. "I can't leave him. I'm not leaving him. Call Hotch and get people out here now! I'm not going anywhere!"

Derek has no choice but to listen to you. He needs people out here now if Spencer has any hope of making it out of this alive. Derek leaves and gets Hotch on the phone, and you look at your boyfriend with tears in your eyes.

"Open this door, Spencer, or I'm gonna break it."

"Don't, Y/N. There is white powder in here, and the air is blasting."

You let out a heartbreaking sob and put your hands to your mouth to quiet them. Spencer's heart breaks at the sight of you crying for him. Hotch and the biohazard team arrive quicker than you thought they would, and Derek tells Hotch where you are.

"Y/N, get out of there."

"I can't leave him," you cry. "I'm not leaving him alone!"

"Please don't cry."

"Spencer, I've seen what this does to people. There has not been one survivor and you're infected now. If the cure is not in there, then you're gonna..." You can't even say it. "I can't lose you. I love you so much."

You place your hand flat on the glass and Spencer puts his hand over yours.

"You need to get out of here."

"I can't leave you!"

"I will be fine."

He doesn't believe what he's telling you because he doesn't know if he's going to make it out of here alive or not. He's lying to protect your feelings but he forgets that you can tell when someone is lying. Your chest feels heavy and your whole body is shaking from fear. Your legs can't hold you up any longer so you fall to the ground in a heap of tears. Someone from the biohazard team comes in and places their hand on your shoulder.

"Ma'am, you need to leave."

"Y/N, listen to them."

"Spencer," you gasp.

The man practically forces you out of the shed to where Hotch and Derek are. Derek catches you when your legs wobble.

"I need to be in there, please. I can't leave him alone. He's scared, Hotch," you cry.

"Y/N, you need to calm down."

"I can't," you hiccup. "I can't lose him."

Hotch needs you to calm down so he calls Spencer and places him on speakerphone so you can hear his voice.

"Hotch, I really messed up this time," Spencer sighs.

"Reid, we need to get you out and to the hospital."

"No, I'm staying right here."

The tears won't stop rolling down your cheeks.

"No, Spencer, please leave. You need medical attention," you cry. "Please!"

"Y/N, I'm already exposed. It's not gonna do me any good to stop working on the case."

"He's already infected," General Whitworth says. "If Nichols created the strain, he may have also created the cure."

"Look, Dr. Nichols is in here but he's dead. Someone must have bashed something in his head. My best chance is to stay here, see if there's a cure, and try to figure out who killed Dr. Nichols."

"Hotch, say something to him!"

"He's right. His best chance is inside. We're gonna get a suit and mask into you right away."

"Don't bother. it's not gonna do me any good. I'm already infected."

This thing killed the first three victims within hours.

The thought of losing Spencer is something you can't even fathom. The thought hurts too much, and your chest starts closing up.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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tinyshe · 3 months

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The Five Joyful Mysteries (said on Mondays and Saturdays) 1. The Annunciation 2. The Visitation 3. The Nativity 4. The Presentation 5. The Finding of the Child Jesus in the Temple

The Five Luminous Mysteries (Said on Thursdays) 1. The Baptism of Jesus 2. The Wedding at Cana 3. The Proclamation of the Kingdom of God 4. The Transfiguration 5. The Institution of the Eucharist

The Five Sorrowful Mysteries (said on Tuesdays and Fridays) 1. The Agony in the Garden 2. The Scourging at the Pillar 3. The Crowning with Thorns 4. The Carrying of the Cross 5. The Crucifixion

The Five Glorious Mysteries (said on Wednesdays and Sundays) 1. The Resurrection 2. The Ascension 3. The Descent of the Holy Spirit 4. The Assumption 5. The Coronation

(Note: we say the Sorrowful Mysteries during the Sundays of Lent and the Joyful Mysteries on Sundays in Advent.)

#christianity #catholic #scripture #pray the rosary #pray the rosary every day

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scourge-sympathiser · 1 month

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SCOURGE SUNDAY 027/???

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

#scourge wc #warriors #warrior cats #scourge warriors #wc scourge #scourge #scourge warrior cats #bloodclan #scourge sunday #bit diff style thn usual LOL #itz funny bcuz variationz of this r sketched in like. a quarter of the sunday scourgez but ive nevr gotten him 2 look right until now #listening 2 the living tombstone on shuffle n my man how many different versionz of stuck inside r there. itz a bit much #anywayz funny 2 me tht it seemz most ppl nowadayz think of him as the five nightz at freddiez song guy.. he will alwayz be a pony 2 me #fun fact the colorz on this were originally picked from an inverted colorz ver of blessing leader of waterclan LOL #wanna mess with it more but itz uhh. 1:30am && im opening tomorrow so. oopz

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myremnantarmy · 1 month

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𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟐𝟒, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐆𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐥

Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion

Mk 15:1-39

As soon as morning came,

the chief priests with the elders and the scribes,

that is, the whole Sanhedrin held a council.

They bound Jesus, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate.

Pilate questioned him,

“Are you the king of the Jews?”

He said to him in reply, “You say so.”

The chief priests accused him of many things.

Again Pilate questioned him,

“Have you no answer?

See how many things they accuse you of.”

Jesus gave him no further answer, so that Pilate was amazed.

Now on the occasion of the feast he used to release to them

one prisoner whom they requested.

A man called Barabbas was then in prison

along with the rebels who had committed murder in a rebellion.

The crowd came forward and began to ask him

to do for them as he was accustomed.

Pilate answered,

“Do you want me to release to you the king of the Jews?”

For he knew that it was out of envy

that the chief priests had handed him over.

But the chief priests stirred up the crowd

to have him release Barabbas for them instead.

Pilate again said to them in reply,

“Then what do you want me to do

with the man you call the king of the Jews?”

They shouted again, “Crucify him.”

Pilate said to them, “Why? What evil has he done?”

They only shouted the louder, “Crucify him.”

So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd,

released Barabbas to them and, after he had Jesus scourged,

handed him over to be crucified.

The soldiers led him away inside the palace,

that is, the praetorium, and assembled the whole cohort.

They clothed him in purple and,

weaving a crown of thorns, placed it on him.

They began to salute him with, “Hail, King of the Jews!”

and kept striking his head with a reed and spitting upon him.

They knelt before him in homage.

And when they had mocked him,

they stripped him of the purple cloak,

dressed him in his own clothes,

and led him out to crucify him.

They pressed into service a passer-by, Simon,

a Cyrenian, who was coming in from the country,

the father of Alexander and Rufus,

to carry his cross.

They brought him to the place of Golgotha

—which is translated Place of the Skull —

They gave him wine drugged with myrrh,

but he did not take it.

Then they crucified him and divided his garments

by casting lots for them to see what each should take.

It was nine o’clock in the morning when they crucified him.

The inscription of the charge against him read,

“The King of the Jews.”

With him they crucified two revolutionaries,

one on his right and one on his left.

Those passing by reviled him,

shaking their heads and saying,

“Aha! You who would destroy the temple

and rebuild it in three days,

save yourself by coming down from the cross.”

Likewise the chief priests, with the scribes,

mocked him among themselves and said,

“He saved others; he cannot save himself.

Let the Christ, the King of Israel,

come down now from the cross

that we may see and believe.”

Those who were crucified with him also kept abusing him.

At noon darkness came over the whole land

until three in the afternoon.

And at three o’clock Jesus cried out in a loud voice,

“Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?”

which is translated,

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Some of the bystanders who heard it said,

“Look, he is calling Elijah.”

One of them ran, soaked a sponge with wine, put it on a reed

and gave it to him to drink saying,

“Wait, let us see if Elijah comes to take him down.”

Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last.

Here all kneel and pause for a short time.

The veil of the sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom.

When the centurion who stood facing him

saw how he breathed his last he said,

“Truly this man was the Son of God!”

#jesus #catholic #my remnant army #jesus christ #virgin mary #faithoverfear #saints #jesusisgod #endtimes #artwork #Gospel #word of God #Bible #bible verse of the day #biblevisuals #bible verse #Jesus is coming #come holy spirit

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wc-confessions · 3 months

Note

TPB is my favorite series like the basic ass mf I am but. BUT. It also contains one of my biggest personal pet peeves in all of Warrior Cats. Which is saying A Lot with how botched this series’s writing is is in places.

Nightpelt not getting his nine lives while Tigerstar does??? Make it make sense. Genuinely what the fuck Starclan. We know they knew exactly how Tiger would turn out but somehow decided that poor Nightpelt, who was just trying to guide his fractured and weak clan through Brokenstar’s wake, and through even more tragedy and misfortune afterwards, wasn’t worthy enough Apparently. What did Night even do for them to hold him in such contempt? Besides *checks notes* being middle-aged and having a chronic illness?

There’s the fact that Brokenstar was still alive and on his last life yeah, but so was Pinestar when he left Thunderclan and that didn’t seem to be an issue other than Sunstar only getting eight lives (which is still way better than no extra lives). Brokenstar also broke the Warrior Code seven ways to Sunday before being exiled so it feels weird for them to still have recognized his authority.

For a long time my headcanon was that Starclan didn’t *actually* give Tiger his nine lives, he lied about it when he became Shadowclan’s leader, and when Scourge killed him, it was his one single life ending in such a jarring and gory way that it just *looked like* he died nine times in a row. Even if it was kind of flimsy, it was still more acceptable than what canon said.

With what has been written since though, this headcanon falls apart pretty badly. First, Tiger’s destiny to be evil - even if there’s a strong argument to be made that it was a self-fulfilling prophecy by how adults like Pinestar, Goosefeather, Thistleclaw, etc acted around him or directly treated him as he came of age - has been known about from his birth to the point where they tried to get his own father to commit infanticide! Starclan has had plenty of time to communicate amongst themselves about it, let alone watch over what has been happening to all the living and recently-deceased cats.

Second, we see Tiger’s nine lives ceremony. While we only know the backstories and full motivations of a couple of these characters, there are at least nine named cats who support him being leader enough to grant him a life. Even though these lives are meant to symbolically help in areas he’s lacking, and could be read as just acting in the best interest of the living cats within the leadership decision already being made as opposed to meddling in it… why didn’t they offer Nightpelt the same chance? Why weren’t they like “here’s the areas you need to work on and the life lessons you need to learn, and we’ll respect the circumstances created by the living” to him, too?

The only answer that feels somewhat satisfactory to me is that Starclan isn’t a hivemind and that while many of the cats were cheering during Tiger’s ceremony, cats like Redtail and Goosefeather were in a corner somewhere bashing their heads against a metaphorical wall.

Content warning for US politics ahead.

This also relies on Starclan Tiger supporters to be the Warrior Cats equivalent of Trump voters. Maybe not all of them are bad people but they are at least very easily manipulated into the ideal image of making their nation “strong again,” and are emotionally pulled in by the idea of someone who isn’t going to take shit standing up for “normal people” who they perceive to be like themselves, and are willing to put a vocal bully with a history of opportunistic, shady, and malicious behavior in a seat of power to make that happen. I could see Badgerfang falling into this camp. We know he’s just a kid who was forced into combat too young and that he isn’t a dick but is a victim of circumstance and had his worldview colored by the adults around him. He could have a more optimistic view of Tiger as someone who isn’t going to take shit from another Brokenstar, while simultaneously having a blind patriotic streak because again he was just a child and doesn’t know better than to question the system even if it failed him (based on how he describes his own death as giving his life up for his clan). Someone like this could easily be sucked into wanting the “strong” leader over the one they perceive as “weak” even if the “weak” candidate is more qualified and responsible, or has a more appropriate personality for leadership. (Side tangent I wonder how much Starclan foresaw about how Tiger would die. “Beware small cats” is so… specific.)

Starclan isn’t just a handful of jingoistic Shadowclan cats (+ Pinestar), though. There still should have been enough vocal outcry to make it not seem so cut and dry with Nightstar/Tigerstar, with the information in canon that the reader does get.

I know I’m reading way too far into this silly series with its million plotholes and inconsistencies and retcons, but I just want some answers. Thank you if you endured my pet peeve Night/Tiger rant.

#text #anonymous #confession #warrior cats

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ijumpbridges · 9 months

Note

Your advice is disgusting like your being. social scourge. Jump off a bridge later. Okay?

Stop crying on my dms and go and suck someone else’s dick since that’s what you are good at or jerk off to pics of your mom or 076 since thats what you are also good at. 🥰

You still free on Sunday?

#scp 076 #spit on your hand and stroke my cock at a medium pace

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cazzyf1 · 14 days

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Some of my favourite quotes from Mike Hawthorn's car reviews in the Sunday Times

Did you know Britain's first world champion, Mike Hawthorn wrote car reviews? Every so often when a new car came out Mike was given it to drive around and give his expert review on the car. Though often times speeding them down Fleet Street as he went to test them out at the Silverstone track, Mike did have a good sense of what was needed in a car. In the reviews, his wit and typical British humour come through, and there were some parts I just had to write down, so here's my collection.

'Stop fiddling with things on the dashboard. Forget the burnt toast or the row with your neighbour. Don't look at the aircraft's or the pretty girls. The way ahead is the only view that matters to the expert driver.'

'I WAS DEPRESSED BY the dangerous way the large and heavy doors opened forward.'

'It may seem unfair on the hawk that I should test it in such weather when other cars go through their paces in sunshine and on dry roads. I don't agree.'

'What a car it is...and oh! what a price it is, just under £7,000. I ignored the price and concentrated on the fun'

'And when I reluctantly left the Bentley I just had to take one more walk round and admire the perfect lines of its body.'

'Engine: 9, Comment: This Minx purrs'

'Cornering: 9, Comment: Does just as its told'

'It is frustrating to find a car that won't be bullied. As a tester it is my job to make a car sequel for mercy'

'The new Standard Ten just purred at my treatment'

'Get in your car, relax. No more wheel hugging, no more clutching at it with hands like ham. Caress it, for only gentle fingers can feel what the car wants to do on corners.'

'Shame on you if you have to look out of the window to find out what three feet of clearance is.'

'Trimming and finish: 10, Comment: Those fussy French men liked it'

'A phrase for the place: The French motorists say snails are for eating not emulating'

'I sat in the T.R.2 full of suspicion and as cold as charity'

'I have never been so flattering about a car before and it embarrasses me'

'In a phrase: Hawthorn in wonderland'

'The absence of a fourth gear is a thing I deplore, but mine is a voice in the wilderness.'

'I have been accused of bad manners in desiring to head the car queue. I don't agree.'

'Dislikes: The cheap ash tray'

'"Typical American," I grumbled'

'Oh the anxiety as the time grew near and the car was still to be delivered'

'A skid is as easy to correct as a 5 year old's homework'

'Those critics of road-test reports make one accusation. They say I am too kind.'

'But if mother expects to get her handbag, a face cloth and towel for whipping sticky juvenile hands and all her bits and pieces on it she will be disappointed'

'A phrase for the car: A fastish hussy is the minx'

'There's no stocking big enough for the present I would have liked for, only a garage would hold it. A large garage with a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A garage with old masters on the wall. I'm dreaming of a large Bentley'

'I am not going to the trouble of filling in a score card this week. Just assume that the Bentley gets a ten plus for everything'

'Compromise... that's the world right out of a politician's dictionary'

'I am a back seat driver. Every time I test a car I climb into the back and view life from there. And what a task it can be sometimes'

'Off on a holiday...with the kitchen sink'

'I shook my head to clear the thunder from my ears'

'My wind-scourged face thawed into a glow as I settled myself in'

'Trimming: 6, Comment: Oh dear!'

'Mike Hawthorn interrupts a road test to air a pet hate...those lumbering diesel buses which travel along in a reeking miasma of black fumes'

'Comfort: 9, Comment: My passengers slept'

#classic f1 #f1 #formula one #formula 1 #vintage f1 #mike hawthorn

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boatemlag · 2 months

Text

Cleo sub-DPS Build Guide (MUST BUILD 4*!!)

Hello Everyone! In this post I will share with you the detailed build guide of the 4-star Electro Claymore User Cleo. She is rate up on this current banner and since Etho is rerunning next patch, I figured now is the perfect opportunity for you to learn why she is a must build for any hyperbloom team.

✦✦✦ Kit and Playstyle ✦✦✦

Cleo is a 4-star ATK scaling Electro Claymore user who works well as a Physical DPS but really shines on teams based around Elemental Reactions. This guide will focus on her application as a sub-DPS, especially for hyperbloom teams.

◇ Normal Attack: Grave Vengeance

Cleo's normal attack performs four consecutive strikes dealing physical damage. Like the other claymore users, Her charged attack Performs a spinning attack on nearby enemies which gradually draining stamina.

◇ Elemental Skills (E) : Expert Puppeteer

Cleo leaves an electro marker on the ground, referred to as an Ethereal Clone, that does periodic AoE Electro DMG, though this amount is very small. This skill has two charges, and two markers can be on the field simultaneously.

◇ Elemental Burst (Q) : Imitation of Life: Destructive Light

Much of Cleo's DMG comes through in her Burst, which really shines when effectively using her E skill. Deals massive AoE Electro DMG around the placed markers, which then become summons who deal additional Electro DMG to nearby enemies. When using this burst without markers on field, the AoE will come from Cleo and no summons will appear, so it is advised to make effective use of her E skill. Summons, referred to as Ephemeral Imitations, deal DMG for 4s.

Cleo's burst has an energy cost of 60 and a cooldown of 20s.

◇ Passives

- Precision and Might: Having maximum markers on the field increases Cleo's EM by 30.

- Harsh Truth of the Undead: If below 50% HP, Cleo has a 25% chance every 3s for one Normal Attack to be infused with electro.

- Deft Hands: 25% chance to refund materials when crafting Character and Weapon materials.

✦✦✦ Ascension & Talent Materials ✦✦✦

◇ Vajrada Amethyst

Like all Electro characters, Navia will need Vajrada Amethyst for ascension. Players will need to collect the following amount to get her final ascension:

Vajrada Amethyst Sliver x1

Vajrada Amethyst Fragment x9

Vajrada Amethyst Chunk x9

Vajrada Amethyst Gemstone x6

◇ Drops from Undead Hoardes

Undead Hoardes are found all throughout the world, most commonly in early regions like Ention or Riveia. To get Cleo to final ascension, you will need:

Rotten Tooth x18 (x18)

Decaying Fang x30 (x66)

Jaw of the Undead x36 (x93)

(Parentheses are for all talents to level 10.)

◇ Singing Fruit of the Choir of Leaves

Singing Fruit of the Choir of Leaves can be claimed by defeating the Central Leybeast in Riveia. Like other bosses, it costs 40 resin to collect materials. You will need x46.

◇ Glowberries

Glowberries is Cleo's local specialty from Hermitopia. Unlock the Hermitopia Archon quest to be able to travel there. You will need x168. They can be grown in the teapot.

◇ Persistence Talent Books

Persistence Talent Books can be gotten from Mooncalled Depthstrider's Palace (Hermitopia) on Tuesdays, Saturdays and Sundays.

◇ Coin of the False God from the Scourge of the Mirror Factory weekly boss

Complete the Hermitopia Archon Quest to unlock this Trounce Domain.

✦✦✦ Artifacts & Stats ✦✦✦

Cleo's best Artifact set is now Widow's Encore in the 5.3 update.

2-piece set increases Elemental Mastery by 30. 4-piece set increases the DMG of elemental burst when an elemental reaction with electro, such as Electro-Charged, Overload, Superconduct, Hyperbloom, Quicken, Aggravate or Spread, has occurred within the last 2s.

Sands: ATK%/EM

Goblet: Electro DMG

Circlet: CRIT rate/DMG

Substats: ER, CRIT rate and DMG, ATK%

ER: ~130-160%

Another good option for Cleo is 2-piece Thundering Echo set, 2-piece Widow's Echo, which increases Electro DMG and EM respectively.

✦✦✦ Weapons ✦✦✦

Cleo's best in slot is The Twin Splitter (Weapon banner), but other standard 5* options include Forge's Spine and the BP weapon Carrion Vengeance. 4* weapons that are good for Cleo include the forge weapon Whiteout and the standard weapon Bornagain Ashfinder. If necessary, for new players and f2p players, the best 3* weapon for Cleo is the Talking Stick.

✦✦✦ Talent Priority ✦✦✦

Burst > E. Skill > Normal Attack

A good suggested level for folks who do not want to go all the way is 9/8/6.

✦✦✦ Team Comps ✦✦✦

GOATed Hyperbloom - Cleo's best team by far. Cleo as sub-dps and electro application, Bdubs as hydro application and support, and Etho as on field DPS and dendro application. A flex healer is good for this team, especially considering Bdubs's HP mechanic. Personally I use Joe Hills for her grouping abilities, and anemo is always welcome in a hyperbloom team.

Cleo Superconduct (DPS) - Cleo as main DPS, then Xisuma for electro resonance and support, Iskall as sub-dps and cryo application, and Ren for cryo resonance and heals.

✦✦✦ Constellations ✦✦✦

C1: ATK speed up related to E skill.

C2: Increases charges on E skill.

C3: Talent level increase.

C4: Increases Cleo's ATK based on party member HP.

C5: Talent level increase.

C6: Burst duration increase.

Cleo's cons are nice, and she is a perfectly good DPS/sub-DPS at C0, but C2 is absolutely incredible for anyone looking to play and build her long term.

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That's all for the guide! Happy wishing and hope you enjoy the current Rate UP (get those cons)! Let me know in the comments if you're planning on building Cleo and if you're considering pulling on the Etho rerun next patch!!

#what ive been doing for the past like. week. btw #zombiecleo #um. i have no idea how else to tag this.#wizard scrolls #genshin impact au #??????????? i dunno man.

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