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19th August >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Saturday, Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Saint John Eudes, Priest

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Saturday, Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Green: A (1))

First Reading Joshua 24:14-29 'The Lord is a holy God, a jealous God'.

Joshua said to all the people, ‘Fear the Lord and serve him perfectly and sincerely; put away the gods that your ancestors served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. But if you will not serve the Lord, choose today whom you wish to serve, whether the gods that your ancestors served beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are now living. As for me and my House, we will serve the Lord.’

The people answered, ‘We have no intention of deserting the Lord and serving other gods! Was it not the Lord our God who brought us and our ancestors out of the land of Egypt, the house of slavery, who worked those great wonders before our eyes and preserved us all along the way we travelled and among all the peoples through whom we journeyed? What is more, the Lord drove all those peoples out before us, as well as the Amorites who used to live in this country. We too will serve the Lord, for he is our God.’

Then Joshua said to the people, ‘You cannot serve the Lord, because he is a holy God, he is a jealous God who will not forgive your transgressions or your sins. If you desert the Lord to follow alien gods he in turn will afflict and destroy you after the goodness he has shown you.’ The people answered Joshua, ‘No; it is the Lord we wish to serve.’ Then Joshua said to the people, ‘You are witnesses against yourselves that you have chosen the Lord, to serve him.’ They answered, ‘We are witnesses.’ ‘Then cast away the alien gods among you and give your hearts to the Lord the God of Israel!’ The people answered Joshua, ‘It is the Lord our God we choose to serve; it is his voice that we will obey.’

That day, Joshua made a covenant for the people; he laid down a statute and ordinance for them at Shechem. Joshua wrote these words in the Book of the Law of God. Then he took a great stone and set it up there, under the oak in the sanctuary of the Lord, and Joshua said to all the people, ‘See! This stone shall be a witness against us because it has heard all the words that the Lord has spoken to us: it shall be a witness against you in case you deny your God.’ Then Joshua sent the people away, and each returned to his own inheritance.

After these things Joshua son of Nun, the servant of the Lord, died; he was a hundred and ten years old.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 15(16):1-2,5,7-8,11

R/ You are my inheritance, O Lord.

Preserve me, God, I take refuge in you. I say to the Lord: ‘You are my God.’ O Lord, it is you who are my portion and cup; it is you yourself who are my prize.

R/ You are my inheritance, O Lord.

I will bless the Lord who gives me counsel, who even at night directs my heart. I keep the Lord ever in my sight: since he is at my right hand, I shall stand firm.

R/ You are my inheritance, O Lord.

You will show me the path of life, the fullness of joy in your presence, at your right hand happiness for ever.

R/ You are my inheritance, O Lord.

Gospel Acclamation cf. Colossians 3:16a,17

Alleluia, alleluia! Let the message of Christ, in all its richness, find a home with you; through him give thanks to God the Father. Alleluia!

Or: Matthew 11:25

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom to mere children. Alleluia!

Gospel Matthew 19:13-15 Do not stop the little children coming to me.

People brought little children to Jesus, for him to lay his hands on them and say a prayer. The disciples turned them away, but Jesus said, ‘Let the little children alone, and do not stop them coming to me; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.’ Then he laid his hands on them and went on his way.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

----------------------

Saint John Eudes, Priest

(Liturgical Colour: White: A (1))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading Ephesians 3:14-19 May Christ live in your hearts through faith.

I pray, kneeling before the Father, from whom every family, whether spiritual or natural, takes its name:

Out of his infinite glory, may he give you the power through his Spirit for your hidden self to grow strong, so that Christ may live in your hearts through faith, and then, planted in love and built on love, you will with all the saints have strength to grasp the breadth and the length, the height and the depth; until, knowing the love of Christ, which is beyond all knowledge, you are filled with the utter fullness of God.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 130(131)

R/ Keep my soul in peace before you, O Lord.

O Lord, my heart is not proud nor haughty my eyes. I have not gone after things too great nor marvels beyond me.

R/ Keep my soul in peace before you, O Lord.

Truly I have set my soul in silence and peace. A weaned child on its mother’s breast, even so is my soul.

R/ Keep my soul in peace before you, O Lord.

O Israel, hope in the Lord both now and forever.

R/ Keep my soul in peace before you, O Lord.

Gospel Acclamation Matthew 11:25

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom to mere children. Alleluia!

Gospel Matthew 11:25-30 You have hidden these things from the wise and revealed them to little children.

Jesus exclaimed, ‘I bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and of earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever and revealing them to mere children. Yes, Father, for that is what it pleased you to do. Everything has been entrusted to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, just as no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. ‘Come to me, all you who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden light.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

------------------------

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary

(Liturgical Colour: White: A (1))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

Either:

First Reading Genesis 3:9-15,20 The mother of all those who live.

After Adam had eaten of the tree the Lord God called to him. ‘Where are you?’ he asked. ‘I heard the sound of you in the garden;’ he replied ‘I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid.’ ‘Who told you that you were naked?’ he asked ‘Have you been eating of the tree I forbade you to eat?’ The man replied, ‘It was the woman you put with me; she gave me the fruit, and I ate it.’ Then the Lord God asked the woman, ‘What is this you have done?’ The woman replied, ‘The serpent tempted me and I ate.’ Then the Lord God said to the serpent, ‘Because you have done this,

‘Be accursed beyond all cattle, all wild beasts. You shall crawl on your belly and eat dust every day of your life. I will make you enemies of each other: you and the woman, your offspring and her offspring. It will crush your head and you will strike its heel.’

The man named his wife ‘Eve’ because she was the mother of all those who live.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

OR: --------

First reading Genesis 12:1-7 All the tribes of the earth shall bless themselves by you

The Lord said to Abram, ‘Leave your country, your family and your father’s house, for the land I will show you. I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name so famous that it will be used as a blessing.

‘I will bless those who bless you: I will curse those who slight you. All the tribes of the earth shall bless themselves by you.’

So Abram went as the Lord told him, and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he left Haran. Abram took his wife Sarai, his nephew Lot, all the possessions they had amassed and the people they had acquired in Haran. They set off for the land of Canaan, and arrived there. Abram passed through the land as far as Shechem’s holy place, the Oak of Moreh. At that time the Canaanites were in the land. The Lord appeared to Abram and said, ‘It is to your descendants that I will give this land.’ So Abram built there an altar for the Lord who had appeared to him.

OR: --------

First reading 2 Samuel 7:1-5,8-11,16 The Lord will make you great; the Lord will make you a House

Once David had settled into his house and the Lord had given him rest from all the enemies surrounding him, the king said to the prophet Nathan, ‘Look, I am living in a house of cedar while the ark of God dwells in a tent.’ Nathan said to the king, ‘Go and do all that is in your mind, for the Lord is with you.’ But that very night the word of the Lord came to Nathan: ‘Go and tell my servant David, “Thus the Lord speaks: Are you the man to build me a house to dwell in? I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep, to be leader of my people Israel; I have been with you on all your expeditions; I have cut off all your enemies before you. I will give you fame as great as the fame of the greatest on earth. I will provide a place for my people Israel; I will plant them there and they shall dwell in that place and never be disturbed again; nor shall the wicked continue to oppress them as they did, in the days when I appointed judges over my people Israel; I will give them rest from all their enemies. The Lord will make you great; the Lord will make you a House. Your House and your sovereignty will always stand secure before me and your throne be established for ever.”’

OR: --------

First reading 1 Chronicles 15:3-4,15-16,16:1-2 They brought in the ark of God and put it inside the tent that David had pitched for it

David gathered all Israel together to bring the ark of God up to the place he had prepared for it. David called together the sons of Aaron and the sons of Levi. And the Levites carried the ark of God with the shafts on their shoulders, as Moses had ordered in accordance with the word of the Lord. David then told the heads of the Levites to assign duties for their kinsmen as cantors, with their various instruments of music, harps and lyres and cymbals, to play joyful tunes. They brought the ark of God in and put it inside the tent that David had pitched for it; and they offered holocausts before God, and communion sacrifices. And when David had finished offering holocausts and communion sacrifices, he blessed the people in the name of the Lord.

OR: --------

First reading Proverbs 8:22-31 Before the earth came into being, Wisdom was born

The Wisdom of God cries aloud:

The Lord created me when his purpose first unfolded, before the oldest of his works. From everlasting I was firmly set, from the beginning, before earth came into being. The deep was not, when I was born, there were no springs to gush with water. Before the mountains were settled, before the hills, I came to birth; before he made the earth, the countryside, or the first grains of the world’s dust. When he fixed the heavens firm, I was there, when he drew a ring on the surface of the deep, when he thickened the clouds above, when he fixed fast the springs of the deep, when he assigned the sea its boundaries – and the waters will not invade the shore – when he laid down the foundations of the earth, I was by his side, a master craftsman, delighting him day after day, ever at play in his presence, at play everywhere in his world, delighting to be with the sons of men.

OR: --------

First reading Ecclesiasticus 24:1-4,8-12,18-21 From eternity, in the beginning, God created wisdom

Wisdom speaks her own praises, in the midst of her people she glories in herself. She opens her mouth in the assembly of the Most High, she glories in herself in the presence of the Mighty One: ‘I came forth from the mouth of the Most High, and I covered the earth like a mist. I had my tent in the heights, and my throne in a pillar of cloud. Then the creator of all things instructed me, and he who created me fixed a place for my tent. He said, “Pitch your tent in Jacob, make Israel your inheritance.” From eternity, in the beginning, he created me, and for eternity I shall remain. I ministered before him in the holy tabernacle, and thus was I established on Zion. In the beloved city he has given me rest, and in Jerusalem I wield my authority. I have taken root in a privileged people, in the Lord’s property, in his inheritance. Approach me, you who desire me, and take your fill of my fruits, for memories of me are sweeter than honey, inheriting me is sweeter than the honeycomb. They who eat me will hunger for more, they who drink me will thirst for more. Whoever listens to me will never have to blush, whoever acts as I dictate will never sin.’

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 7:10-14,8:10 The maiden is with child

The Lord spoke to Ahaz and said, ‘Ask the Lord your God for a sign for yourself coming either from the depths of Sheol or from the heights above.’ ‘No,’ Ahaz answered ‘I will not put the Lord to the test.’ Then Isaiah said:

‘Listen now, House of David: are you not satisfied with trying the patience of men without trying the patience of my God, too? The Lord himself, therefore, will give you a sign. It is this: the maiden is with child and will soon give birth to a son whom she will call Immanuel, a name which means “God-is-with-us.”’

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 9:1-6 A Son is given to us

The people that walked in darkness has seen a great light; on those who live in a land of deep shadow a light has shone. You have made their gladness greater, you have made their joy increase; they rejoice in your presence as men rejoice at harvest time, as men are happy when they are dividing the spoils.

For the yoke that was weighing on him, the bar across his shoulders, the rod of his oppressor, these you break as on the day of Midian.

For all the footgear of battle, every cloak rolled in blood, is burnt, and consumed by fire.

For there is a child born for us, a son given to us and dominion is laid on his shoulders; and this is the name they give him: Wonder-Counsellor, Mighty-God, Eternal-Father, Prince-of-Peace.

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 61:9-11 I exult for joy in the Lord

Their race will be famous throughout the nations, their descendants throughout the peoples. All who see them will admit that they are a race whom the Lord has blessed.

‘I exult for joy in the Lord, my soul rejoices in my God, for he has clothed me in the garments of salvation, he has wrapped me in the cloak of integrity, like a bridegroom wearing his wreath, like a bride adorned in her jewels.

‘For as the earth makes fresh things grow, as a garden makes seeds spring up, so will the Lord make both integrity and praise spring up in the sight of the nations.’

OR: --------

First reading Micah 5:1-4 He will stand and feed his flock with the power of the Lord

The Lord says this:

But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, the least of the clans of Judah, out of you will be born for me the one who is to rule over Israel; his origin goes back to the distant past, to the days of old. The Lord is therefore going to abandon them till the time when she who is to give birth gives birth. Then the remnant of his brothers will come back to the sons of Israel. He will stand and feed his flock with the power of the Lord, with the majesty of the name of his God. They will live secure, for from then on he will extend his power to the ends of the land. He himself will be peace.

OR: --------

First reading Zechariah 2:14-17 'I am coming', says the Lord

Sing, rejoice, daughter of Zion; for I am coming to dwell in the middle of you – it is the Lord who speaks. Many nations will join the Lord, on that day; they will become his people. But he will remain among you, and you will know that the Lord of Hosts has sent me to you. But the Lord will hold Judah as his portion in the Holy Land, and again make Jerusalem his very own. Let all mankind be silent before the Lord! For he is awaking and is coming from his holy dwelling.

EITHER: --------

Responsorial Psalm 1 Samuel 2:1,4-8

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

My heart exults in the Lord. I find my strength in my God; my mouth laughs at my enemies as I rejoice in your saving help.

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

The bows of the mighty are broken, but the weak are clothed with strength. Those with plenty must labour for bread, but the hungry need work no more. The childless wife has children now but the fruitful wife bears no more.

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

It is the Lord who gives life and death, he brings men to the grave and back; it is the Lord who gives poverty and riches. He brings men low and raises them on high.

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

He lifts up the lowly from the dust, from the dungheap he raises the poor to set him in the company of princes to give him a glorious throne. For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s, on them he has set the world.

My heart exults in the Lord my Saviour.

OR: --------

Responsorial Psalm Judith 13:18a-19

You are the highest honour of our race!

May you be blessed, my daughter, by God Most High, beyond all women on earth; and may the Lord God be blessed, the Creator of heaven and earth.

You are the highest honour of our race!

The trust you have shown shall not pass from the memories of men, but shall ever remind them of the power of God.

You are the highest honour of our race!

OR: --------

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 44(45):11-12,14-17

Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words.

Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words: forget your own people and your father’s house. So will the king desire your beauty: He is your lord, pay homage to him.

Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words.

The daughter of the king is clothed with splendour, her robes embroidered with pearls set in gold. She is led to the king with her maiden companions.

Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words.

They are escorted amid gladness and joy; they pass within the palace of the king. Sons shall be yours in place of your fathers: you will make them princes over all the earth.

Listen, O daughter, give ear to my words.

OR: --------

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 112(113):1-7

May the name of the Lord be blessed for evermore! or Alleluia!

Praise, O servants of the Lord, praise the name of the Lord! May the name of the Lord be blessed both now and for evermore!

May the name of the Lord be blessed for evermore! or Alleluia!

From the rising of the sun to its setting praised be the name of the Lord! High above all nations is the Lord, above the heavens his glory.

May the name of the Lord be blessed for evermore! or Alleluia!

Who is like the Lord, our God, who has risen on high to his throne yet stoops from the heights to look down, to look down upon heaven and earth? From the dust he lifts up the lowly, from the dungheap he raises the poor

May the name of the Lord be blessed for evermore! or Alleluia!

OR: --------

Responsorial Psalm Luke 1:46-55

The Almighty works marvels for me. Holy is his name! or Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who bore the Son of the eternal Father.

My soul glorifies the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God, my Saviour.

The Almighty works marvels for me. Holy is his name! or Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who bore the Son of the eternal Father.

He looks on his servant in her nothingness; henceforth all ages will call me blessed. The Almighty works marvels for me. Holy his name!

The Almighty works marvels for me. Holy is his name! or Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who bore the Son of the eternal Father.

His mercy is from age to age, on those who fear him. He puts forth his arm in strength and scatters the proud-hearted.

The Almighty works marvels for me. Holy is his name! or Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who bore the Son of the eternal Father.

He casts the mighty from their thrones and raises the lowly. He fills the starving with good things, sends the rich away empty.

The Almighty works marvels for me. Holy is his name! or Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who bore the Son of the eternal Father.

He protects Israel, his servant, remembering his mercy, the mercy promised to our fathers, to Abraham and his sons for ever.

The Almighty works marvels for me. Holy is his name! or Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who bore the Son of the eternal Father.

Gospel Acclamation cf.Lk1:28

Alleluia, alleluia! Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee! Blessed art thou among women. Alleluia!

Or: cf.Lk1:45

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who believed that the promise made her by the Lord would be fulfilled. Alleluia!

Or: cf.Lk2:19

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed is the Virgin Mary, who treasured the word of God and pondered it in her heart. Alleluia!

Or: Lk11:28

Alleluia, alleluia! Happy are those who hear the word of God and keep it. Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed are you, holy Virgin Mary, and most worthy of all praise, for the sun of justice, Christ our God, was born of you. Alleluia!

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia! Happy is the Virgin Mary, who, without dying, won the palm of martyrdom beneath the cross of the Lord. Alleluia!

EITHER: --------

Gospel Matthew 1:1-16,18-23 The ancestry and conception of Jesus Christ

A genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham:

Abraham was the father of Isaac, Isaac the father of Jacob, Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers, Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah, Tamar being their mother, Perez was the father of Hezron, Hezron the father of Ram, Ram was the father of Amminadab, Amminadab the father of Nahshon, Nahshon the father of Salmon, Salmon was the father of Boaz, Rahab being his mother, Boaz was the father of Obed, Ruth being his mother, Obed was the father of Jesse; and Jesse was the father of King David.

David was the father of Solomon, whose mother had been Uriah’s wife, Solomon was the father of Rehoboam, Rehoboam the father of Abijah, Abijah the father of Asa, Asa was the father of Jehoshaphat, Jehoshaphat the father of Joram, Joram the father of Azariah, Azariah was the father of Jotham, Jotham the father of Ahaz, Ahaz the father of Hezekiah, Hezekiah was the father of Manasseh, Manasseh the father of Amon, Amon the father of Josiah; and Josiah was the father of Jechoniah and his brothers. Then the deportation to Babylon took place.

After the deportation to Babylon: Jechoniah was the father of Shealtiel, Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel, Zerubbabel was the father of Abiud, Abiud the father of Eliakim, Eliakim the father of Azor, Azor was the father of Zadok, Zadok the father of Achim, Achim the father of Eliud, Eliud was the father of Eleazar, Eleazar the father of Matthan, Matthan the father of Jacob; and Jacob was the father of Joseph the husband of Mary; of her was born Jesus who is called Christ.

This is how Jesus Christ came to be born. His mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph; but before they came to live together she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph; being a man of honour and wanting to spare her publicity, decided to divorce her informally. He had made up his mind to do this when the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because she has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you must name him Jesus, because he is the one who is to save his people from their sins.’ Now all this took place to fulfil the words spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel,

a name which means ‘God-is-with-us.’

OR: --------

Gospel Matthew 1:18-23 How Jesus Christ came to be born

The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel,

a name which means ‘God-is-with-us.’

OR: --------

Gospel Matthew 2:13-15,19-23 The flight into Egypt and the return to Nazareth

After the wise men had left, the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, ‘Get up, take the child and his mother with you, and escape into Egypt, and stay there until I tell you, because Herod intends to search for the child and do away with him.’ So Joseph got up and, taking the child and his mother with him, left that night for Egypt, where he stayed until Herod was dead. This was to fulfil what the Lord had spoken through the prophet:

I called my son out of Egypt.

After Herod’s death, the angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, ‘Get up, take the child and his mother with you and go back to the land of Israel, for those who wanted to kill the child are dead.’ So Joseph got up and, taking the child and his mother with him, went back to the land of Israel. But when he learnt that Archelaus had succeeded his father Herod as ruler of Judaea he was afraid to go there, and being warned in a dream he left for the region of Galilee. There he settled in a town called Nazareth. In this way the words spoken through the prophets were to be fulfilled:

‘He will be called a Nazarene.’

OR: --------

Gospel Matthew 12:46-50 My mother and my brothers are anyone who does the will of my Father in heaven

Jesus was speaking to the crowds when his mother and his brothers appeared; they were standing outside and were anxious to have a word with him. But to the man who told him this Jesus replied, ‘Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?’ And stretching out his hand towards his disciples he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers. Anyone who does the will of my Father in heaven, he is my brother and sister and mother.’

OR: --------

Gospel Luke 1:26-38 'I am the handmaid of the Lord'

The angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the House of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary. He went in and said to her, ‘Rejoice, so highly favoured! The Lord is with you.’ She was deeply disturbed by these words and asked herself what this greeting could mean, but the angel said to her, ‘Mary, do not be afraid; you have won God’s favour. Listen! You are to conceive and bear a son, and you must name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David; he will rule over the House of Jacob for ever and his reign will have no end.’ Mary said to the angel, ‘But how can this come about, since I am a virgin?’ ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you’ the angel answered ‘and the power of the Most High will cover you with its shadow. And so the child will be holy and will be called Son of God. Know this too: your kinswoman Elizabeth has, in her old age, herself conceived a son, and she whom people called barren is now in her sixth month, for nothing is impossible to God.’ ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord,’ said Mary ‘let what you have said be done to me.’ And the angel left her.

OR: --------

Gospel Luke 1:39-47 Blessed is she who believed the promise

Mary set out and went as quickly as she could to a town in the hill country of Judah. She went into Zechariah’s house and greeted Elizabeth. Now as soon as Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leapt in her womb and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. She gave a loud cry and said, ‘Of all women you are the most blessed, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. Why should I be honoured with a visit from the mother of my Lord? For the moment your greeting reached my ears, the child in my womb leapt for joy. Yes, blessed is she who believed that the promise made her by the Lord would be fulfilled.’ And Mary said:

‘My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord and my spirit exults in God my saviour.’

OR: --------

Gospel Luke 2:1-14 'In the town of David a saviour has been born to you'

Caesar Augustus issued a decree for a census of the whole world to be taken. This census – the first – took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria, and everyone went to his own town to be registered. So Joseph set out from the town of Nazareth in Galilee and travelled up to Judaea, to the town of David called Bethlehem, since he was of David’s House and line, in order to be registered together with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. While they were there the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to a son, her first born. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them at the inn. In the countryside close by there were shepherds who lived in the fields and took it in turns to watch their flocks during the night. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone round them. They were terrified, but the angel said, ‘Do not be afraid. Listen, I bring you news of great joy, a joy to be shared by the whole people. Today in the town of David a saviour has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. And here is a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly with the angel there was a great throng of the heavenly host, praising God and singing:

‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace to men who enjoy his favour.’

OR: --------

Gospel Luke 2:15-19 The shepherds hurried to Bethlehem and found the baby lying in the manger

Now when the angels had gone from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let us go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened which the Lord has made known to us.’ So they hurried away and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in the manger. When they saw the child they repeated what they had been told about him, and everyone who heard it was astonished at what the shepherds had to say. As for Mary, she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.

OR: --------

Gospel Luke 2:27-35 'A sword will pierce your soul too'

Prompted by the Spirit Simeon came to the Temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the Law required, he took him into his arms and blessed God; and he said:

‘Now, Master, you can let your servant go in peace, just as you promised; because my eyes have seen the salvation which you have prepared for all the nations to see, a light to enlighten the pagans and the glory of your people Israel.’

As the child’s father and mother stood there wondering at the things that were being said about him, Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, ‘You see this child: he is destined for the fall and for the rising of many in Israel, destined to be a sign that is rejected – and a sword will pierce your own soul too – so that the secret thoughts of many may be laid bare.’

OR: --------

Gospel Luke 2:41-52 Mary stored up all these things in her heart

Every year the parents of Jesus used to go to Jerusalem for the feast of the Passover. When he was twelve years old, they went up for the feast as usual. When they were on their way home after the feast, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem without his parents knowing it. They assumed he was with the caravan, and it was only after a day’s journey that they went to look for him among their relations and acquaintances. When they failed to find him they went back to Jerusalem looking for him everywhere. Three days later, they found him in the Temple, sitting among the doctors, listening to them, and asking them questions; and all those who heard him were astounded at his intelligence and his replies. They were overcome when they saw him, and his mother said to him, ‘My child, why have, you done this to us? See how worried your father and I have been, looking for you.’ ‘Why were you looking for me?’ he replied. ‘Did you not know that I must be busy with my Father’s affairs?’ But they did not understand what he meant. He then went down with them and came to Nazareth and lived under their authority. His mother stored up all these things in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom, in stature, and in favour with God and men.

OR: --------

Gospel Luke 11:27-28 'Happy the womb that bore you and the breasts you sucked!'

As Jesus was speaking, a woman in the crowd raised her voice and said, ‘Happy the womb that bore you and the breasts you sucked!’ But he replied, ‘Still happier those who hear the word of God and keep it!’

OR: --------

Gospel John 2:1-11 'My hour has not come yet' - 'Do whatever he tells you'

There was a wedding at Cana in Galilee. The mother of Jesus was there, and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited. When they ran out of wine, since the wine provided for the wedding was all finished, the mother of Jesus said to him, ‘They have no wine.’ Jesus said ‘Woman, why turn to me? My hour has not come yet.’ His mother said to the servants, ‘Do whatever he tells you.’ There were six stone water jars standing there, meant for the ablutions that are customary among the Jews: each could hold twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to the servants, ‘Fill the jars with water’, and they filled them to the brim. ‘Draw some out now’ he told them ‘and take it to the steward.’ They did this; the steward tasted the water, and it had turned into wine. Having no idea where it came from – only the servants who had drawn the water knew – the steward called the bridegroom and said, ‘People generally serve the best wine first, and keep the cheaper sort till the guests have had plenty to drink; but you have kept the best wine till now.’ This was the first of the signs given by Jesus: it was given at Cana in Galilee. He let his glory be seen, and his disciples believed in him.

Or:

Gospel John 19:25-27 'Woman, this is your son'.

Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala. Seeing his mother and the disciple he loved standing near her, Jesus said to his mother, ‘Woman, this is your son.’ Then to the disciple he said, ‘This is your mother.’ And from that moment the disciple made a place for her in his home.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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themovieblogonline · 1 year

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Mickey 17 Teaser Shows Off Bong Joon-ho’s New Movie With Robert Pattinson

Bong Joon-ho is easily one of the most acclaimed international filmmakers in the world. After his Oscar-winning sweep in Parasite, Joon-ho is also one of the hottest directors in the world. After three years now, we finally have a look at the latest movie from the acclaimed director, with one of the most interesting actors out there too, Robert Pattinson. Check out the Mickey 17 teaser, and what we can glean from this mysterious new movie. Bong Joon-ho’s Latest Movie Is From A Book The latest movie from director Joon-ho and actor Robert Pattinson is Mickey 17. There’s not a lot that we know about the movie itself, but we’re in luck! Mickey 17 comes from the book, Mickey7 by Edward Ashton. The book follows the story of an expendable employee whose role is to assist a space expedition to an ice planet. The unique aspect of Mickey7 is that whenever one body gets damaged or dies, a new body regenerates with the memories of the previous body within it. The Mickey 17 Teaser Looks Like Eery Science Fiction https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26uTcwSriMg The Mickey 17 teaser looks like it shows one of the moments when a new body regenerates and wakes with its previous memories intact. Pattinson is seemingly playing Mickey, and the teaser shows a spinning camera angle as it closes on a body within what looks like a cryogenic chamber. As the camera tightens on the face of a naked Pattinson, his eyes open. Ominously. The story feels very familiar to the idea of androids in the Alien franchise. Most notable, are the subsequent new-generation sequels of Prometheus and Covenant. In those movies, Michael Fassbender played David, an android in charge of assisting the human crew on a faraway expedition. As is the case with artificial intelligence or lifeforms, David goes crazy and kills everyone and becomes both movies’ main antagonist. I’m simplifying the story of both those movies, obviously. Now, I’m not sure if Mickey 17 will follow a similar storyline. But we’ll have to wait to see. The Mickey 17 Teaser Doesn’t Show the Rest Of The Cast One thing missing from the Mickey 17 teaser is the other amazing cast members in this new movie. The film stars Naomie Ackie, Toni Collette, Steven Yeun and Mark Ruffalo in leading roles. Despite the stacked cast, these sci-fi movies about expeditions have a habit of killing some characters pretty early on in the story. So while I’m excited to see this cast, I’m worried about how many of them will actually be in the movie for more than what qualifies as a cameo or guest appearance. Mickey 17 releases in theatres on March 29, 2024. What did you think of the Mickey 17 teaser trailer from Bong Joon-ho and Roberts Pattinson? Are you excited for a new movie by the Parasite director? Let me know in the comments below. Source: Youtube. Read the full article

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agxthahxrkness · 3 years

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Heartbeats Under the Floorboards

After the events of Westview, Agatha Harkness is forced to reflect on herself in order to have a chance to save another.

Rated M

Agatha/Wanda (mentioned)

Chapter 1: Reflections

It had taken weeks to break free of the mind control, but in the aftermath of the lowering of the Hex, her mind has started to register what had occurred. As the oppression dwindled, Agatha became herself once more, albeit a little exhausted from the strain. The girl had been powerful, just as the myths foretold, although as she had mentioned to young Wanda, the chaos magic cast within the Hex were doomed to be broken eventually. After a few short days of regaining her strength, she caught herself curious of the after effects of all the chaos magic. What had it done to those around her, to the very fabric of reality that surrounded the town?

She was gone in the blink of an eye. All of her belongings, every shred of evidence she could've left behind, even her rabbit familiar. It was as if Agatha... Agnes, had never existed within the small town of Westview. Even though she was well aware that someone would come looking. The Sorcerer Supreme would've most definitely felt the aftershocks of power and chaos colliding over Westview. Perhaps the echoes were felt through the Multiverse as well. It was best that she lay low. Even though this place had felt like a home, it definitely wasn't one in the slightest, even if she did enjoy her stay for the most part.

Agatha sat back in an old leather chair in her residence safely tucked away in her own little pocket dimension she had conjured in Salem. As painful as this place was, it was her first and only real home. Her blue eyes gazed over at one of her many bookshelves. Not looking at anything particular as she pondered what that young witch was looking for in the Darkhold. That book was too powerful for someone with such little practice. You needed to protect yourself with that old tome. It irradiated dark energy, corrupting energy. Something that Agatha was far too intimate with even for her own liking. She let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over her eyes as she conjured a cup of tea with the other. Bringing it up to her lips as she opened her eyes to just focus on something, anything, that wasn't Wanda Maximoff. But the nagging notion of that young witch playing with dark forces she didn't understand pulled at her thoughts. That book would kill her if she wasn't careful. Agatha knew that she wouldn't even feel it's dark presence seep into her mind until it was too late. That poor girl wouldn't know what hit her.

Wanda Maximoff.

Why did her thoughts always travel back to her? Was it that she had been disabled by the younger woman, or was it something more? She thought back on their interactions, all the small smiles and winks. The bump of one's hip against the other's. The way Wanda had squeezed her waist while ushering her out of a room. How she had gladly accepted Agatha's arm when offered. Even how the younger woman allowed herself to be guided away from Monica, easing into Agatha's arms. The older woman would've been lying to herself if she said she hadn't felt Wanda's pull of conformity in her mind the moment she had set foot in that town. Even when the young witch had locked her into her own mind, Agatha had remembered the slightly forlorn look in Wanda's eyes, and the small smiles at Agnes' playful flirtations. Funny enough, she had kind of enjoyed that name. Had she really been playing a role in Westview? Or had the older woman felt... something? Maybe hidden below just under the surface. Feelings she hadn't thought about in so very long. Not since her original time in Salem when the world was simpler, yet the prejudice was the same. The tea was cooling in her cup as she replayed the events and dwelled on her memories.

She finally looked back down at her cup, draining it quickly before rising out of her chair. Already missing the warm leather, she lit her ornate iron fireplace with a flick of her fingers as she moved over to the closest bookshelf. She perused it as her thoughts poked at her composure. Agatha selected a tome, flipping through it, and not finding anything that interested her, placed it back on the shelf smoothly. Wanda was still in her mind, rooted in her.

In her.

Agatha's eyes went wide for a moment as the idea entered the forefront of her thoughts. The chaos magic. The older woman lifted her hand in front of her, focusing her attention on creating just a standard purple orb in her hand, letting the wisps play around her fingers. If it was still there, if Wanda hadn't somehow reclaimed all of the chaos magic she had siphoned in their duel, how would she know? From what bit of field research she had on the girl, it had to do with her emotions and the lack of their control. In a way, it went against everything Agatha had known for centuries. Even her magic was precisely controlled, and in some ways, so were her true emotions. She had to know. She had to discover the truth. She had to help the young witch that had reminded her so much of herself when Agatha was her age.

She took a moment to reflect on base emotions, finding the ones that had always haunted her. Agatha has been hunted, persecuted, suffered abuse in her own right. Her breaths became shallow as the memories slid into her mind's eye. The sideways looks over the years from those she had thought of as friends. Feeling like an alien in her own skin. Feeling like there was a monster inside that she didn't know how to control or sate.

Agatha remember the events that lead to her trial. How she sought answers to her questions and was met with betrayal by her own coven. How her own mother had betrayed her. How the old crone had created something she considered a monster, an abomination, an abuser of power.

How the only person to ever look at her with true affection, true love, was taken from her by an angry mob from the town church. And how, in her grief and rage, she had burned down their house of God in the same way those fearful puritans had burned the woman she had loved all those years ago with a pure heart so full of love. Agatha was sure she saw God every time they touched.

It was the feeling of isolation, of vilification, of loss. So much loss.

Agatha stared down at her hands through angry tears, a floodgate of grief and sadness at all of the lost moments in her life, feelings of love and kindness that had been taken from her when she was so very young and full of hope. She struck the polished hardwood floor with a fist, rings of purple rippling across the surface like a detwave with each strike. The witch choked back sobs as the pain in her hand grew intense. But it didn't compare to the centuries worth of pain that had been smeared across her mind.

Her heart felt like it would burst and her head felt like it tilted of it's own accord for a moment as the fire now roared against the mantle. The gas lit lamps began dimming and burning bright without any real pattern. Chaotically. Her familiar purple energy lighting in both hands, nearly raging against her skin. Feeling like her own power would burn her flesh if she let it. But she had to let go, needed to feel it. Falling to her hands and knees against the floor, a white hot heat felt like it was rolling up her throat, her brunette locks whipping around her shoulders.

Wanda had pulled her emotions from their safe little box, whether the younger woman knew what she had done or not.

There was a snap in her mind and withdrew against herself, rocking herself back to sit on her feet as she cried openly for that young woman she had loved so much all those years ago. The girl Agatha hadn't been able to save or even protect.

Even if the feeling Agatha suspected she had for the younger witch were real, even if they weren't reciprocated or acted upon, she wouldn't let another young woman fall to the darkness and prejudice of this world. And perhaps she could undo what had been done, for both of them.

"Never again!" She broke the floorboard with the amount of force she had struck the floor, pushing all of those once locked away emotions into the energy she cast out, only then realizing... that it was a red glow.

She inspected her glowing hands through blurry eyes and watched as the red hue lingered for a moment more before shifting back to it's natural purple tone. It was there, a piece of it was still there. Even if it was a miniscule amount, it was enough for what she needed it for. With this, she could find her, find Wanda.

Agatha let the purple energy fade away, slowly standing and cradling her most-likely-broken hand, as she smiled to herself. She could help Wanda be prepared for what was to come, maybe even save her from herself should she need it.

"Now, I know how to find you."

#agatha x wanda #agnes x wanda #wanda x agatha #wanda x agnes #starting a series #post wandavision #agatha harkness #wanda maximoff

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octopodeez · 4 years

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Wasted Time (Elijah Mikaelson x Reader)

Based on this request: Can I request a Elijah X reader where the reader is good friends with Elijah and Klaus teases her to be in Love with him, and she acts like Elijah knows and might forces him to play along, turning out they both have feelings for each other but didn't admit it? Klaus playing match maker

Your coven warned you to stay away from New Orleans, but you felt you had a pilgrimage to make. The entire city was known to be bursting at the seams with magic, and you’d dreamt of going since the moment you cast your first spell. You longed to tap into that energy. Maybe even pick the brains of some of the local witches to see what they could teach you.

You also admittedly had a curiosity about the very thing you were warned about: the war. Word spread fast about the city’s chaos once the original family made their return. Vampires and werewolves and witches were battling in the shadows, right under the noses of every tourist and townie. It was fascinating, and you figured a little quiet observation wouldn’t hurt anyone. Your naivety was laughable.

Not 24 hours into your trip did you end up becoming a pawn passed back and forth between the witches and the vampires. A wildcard for every side to use—new blood in the game. It ended with your coven alienating you. They wanted no part in any of it, especially when the original family was involved, and to offer you safe harbor was to bring the bloodshed to them. The witches of New Orleans gave you a similar answer when you desperately sought refuge with them, though, theirs ended with plans to execute you.

And then there was Elijah. Elijah who found you labeled as a traitor, about to be sacrificed. Elijah who rescued you and gave you his word that he’d keep you safe.

The living situation wasn’t ideal, and you lost the ability to move freely about the city, but over time, you came to like it. Winning over his siblings wasn’t easy, especially Klaus, but after Elijah reminded him that he was the one to drag you into this, he softened slightly.

You did your best to earn your keep, though Elijah insisted you didn’t have to. You’d happily cast spells upon request, but mostly you found yourself cooking and cleaning. It irritated Rebekah to no end when she came around.

My brothers are over 1,000 years old, if they haven’t learned to pick up after themselves by now then they deserve to live in filth, she chided the first time you met. If you must do something, make it to be that you keep to yourself. The less involved with our family you are, the better. Trust me on that.

You nodded along for her benefit, and even took her advice for a bit while she was there. But the second she left again, you were back to making cookies and disposing of bodies.

Occasionally things would quiet down. Someone would propose a flimsy peace treaty, or a faction would be forced to withdraw as they licked their wounds. It was those times that Klaus was at his most dangerous. Without the distractions of war, he had time to turn his attentions to other things…namely your friendship with Elijah.

At first, he was relatively quiet about it. He’d shoot smug, knowing glances and take the occasional vague jab in one of your directions. But as time went on and his boredom grew, he became far more vocal about what he’d suspected since day one: you and Elijah were in love.

He was half right. You had it bad for his elder brother, and everyone knew, save for Elijah himself. Or rather—he did know and simply chose not to acknowledge it. The latter was more likely. Few were more perceptive than Elijah, and there was absolutely no way he didn’t catch you staring at him as he read or lighting up whenever he walked within six feet of you. You’d come to terms with it quickly, and decided it was probably for the better he didn’t say anything. He’d quickly become your closest friend, and you’d rather have that than nothing at all.

Klaus decided otherwise.

“Your affections for my brother are exhausting, you know,” he said one day. He was leaning against your doorframe with his arms loosely crossed, watching you change your bedsheets.

You sighed and fiddled with a pillowcase. Ignoring him had never made him go away in the past, but you could sure as hell still try.

He remained persistent. “It’s no secret you fancy our dearest Elijah, and your longing stares after him are losing their humor.”

“So you’ve caught me looking at your brother a few times. What’s the big deal?” You snapped.

Klaus clicked his tongue after finally getting the reaction he wanted out of you.

“It seems I’ve struck a nerve, little witch.”

“No, I’m just tired of having this same conversation. I don’t know what you’re hoping to get out of it. Or are you just jealous?” There was venom in your voice and Klaus looked more delighted by the second.

“You’re not my type, love, but thank you for keeping me in your thoughts,” he replied. His sarcasm made your blood boil. “A quick word of advice—my brother seldom opens his heart to others. If you do choose to grow a spine and act upon your feelings…just know I’ll gladly reach down your throat and rip it right back out, should you ever hurt him.”

***

Klaus’s words stuck with you. They kept you up that night and well into the morning as they played in your mind over and over again. My brother seldom opens his heart to others. My brother seldom opens his heart to others. My brother seldom opens his heart to others. You knew better than to read into it. Hearts could open for friends just as much as for lovers…but could they really?

“You look conflicted.”

Elijah appeared in the kitchen with impeccable timing, as usual. You had just shoved a large spoonful of cereal in your mouth, and now your cheeks were swollen with Cheerios. A dribble of milk dripped down your chin and you nearly choked as you scrambled to wipe it away. He smiled and waited patiently for you to recover.

“What?” You finally managed. It was the first time you spoke since rolling out of bed and the sound was less than pleasant.

“You look conflicted,” he repeated, and then added “did you not sleep well?”

“Oh, no, I slept fine. Or, I guess I had a little trouble falling asleep…woke up a few times, too. But other than that, fine,” you stammered. Each word was clumsier than the next.

“Mm. Perhaps you should take it easy today. Maybe draw yourself a bath later on. You’re welcome to use the tub in my room. I expect it’s a bit nicer than yours.”

You nearly choked again. In all your fantasies and daydreams, you’d somehow never pictured him in the bath until now. Your mind’s eye was practically whirring with excitement as you envisioned him relaxed. Head leaned back. Eyes shut. Breathing deeply as one arm hung lazily over the porcelain’s edge. The other had its fingers wrapped delicately around the stem of a wine glass, filled with an unmistakable shade of deep red liquid. An empty blood bag lay crumpled and discarded on the floor. Nothing sexual. Nothing romantic. Just the wonderful idea of Elijah experiencing a rare moment of bliss.

He must have heard your heart skip a few beats. The clearing of his throat snapped you back to reality.

“Sorry! Maybe I’ll take you up on, uh, that. I’m not really feeling myself today.”

“You don’t say. What happened?”

“Nothing. I just didn’t sleep well.”

Elijah stayed quiet for a beat. He looked at you expectantly. Waiting for you to confirm what he already knew: you were full of shit. You pretended not to notice. You’d sit at this table, stubbornly eating the same bowl of Cheerios for an eternity before you willingly gave up the fact that he was the reason for yet another sleepless night.

“I noticed Niklaus coming from the direction of your room last night…so allow me to ask you again. What happened?” His voice was firm and his eyes were narrowed. Had you not known better, you would have almost thought he was jealous.

“Nothing! Klaus was just being Klaus, I don’t know! He stopped by, bugged me while I was trying to clean my room, then left. No conspiracies. No secret love affairs. Nothing new to report.” You chomped down on another spoonful of cereal. Everything came out harsher than you meant it to, but you had no intentions of apologizing.

“Is that so? Because if I recall the conversation I had with my brother last night as he left your room, the placement of your spine was threatened on my behalf…I suppose the question I should be asking isn’t what happened, but for how long?”

You spent so much time daydreaming about Elijah over the short course of your friendship. You pictured a life together. Maybe even an eternity, if he offered to grant it. You imagined what it would be like to feel him drink from you. The way he’d rest his hand on your waist as you drifted to sleep in a shared bed. The taste of his lips between sips of champagne on some far-off beach.

There was a part of you that felt terribly foolish. If something were to happen, it would have happened. He would have acted upon the tension he damn well knew was there. Your relationship was platonic because that was all he wanted it to be. But then there was another part of you. The same part of you that brought you down to New Orleans to begin with. That voice in the depths of your brain that kept whispering Klaus’s words: My brother seldom opens his heart to others.

“A while,” you finally confessed. It felt anticlimactic. Of the thousands of heartfelt speeches you’d planned over the months knowing him, all you could muster was two miserable words.

“I see. And you said nothing.”

“Right.”

Unable to look at him, you grabbed your empty bowl and moved towards the sink, but only made it halfway before he was in front of you, blocking your path.

The way he studied you made you feel small and exposed, a feeling you’d experienced many times in your life, but never to this degree. His body was close to yours. You could feel his breath lightly on your skin. It rippled over every nook and cranny of your being, making your hairs stand on end. If you wanted to, you could reach out and kiss him—and you did want to, badly--but you remined frozen in time, waiting for him to speak.

He never said a word.

His hand found its way to you neck, and he tangled his fingers in your hair as he kissed you. It was tender, but had an underlying fire to it that made your knees buckle. You wrapped your arms around him for support. To draw him in closer, closer, closer, closer, until you had to come up for air. He allowed you to take a breath, just enough to keep your heart pounding, before kissing you again, somehow with even more fervor than before.

When it was finally done, Elijah smiled and held you against his chest. He kissed the top of your head. The side of your neck. The shell of your ear.

There was so much wasted time to make up for.

I’m not super crazy with how this one turned out, but matchmaker Klaus was a ton of fun to write! If you like what you see, check out my AO3 and master list :)

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #the originals #daniel gillies #elijah imagine #klaus mikaelson #reader insert #tvd #the vampire diaries

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tinyshe · 3 years

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Witchcraft 101

by Michelle Arnold • 7/1/2008 Catholic Answers

What springs to mind when someone mentions “witchcraft“? Three hags sitting about a cauldron chanting “Double, double, toil and trouble”? A pretty housewife turning someone into a toad at the twitch of her nose? Or perhaps you think of Wicca and figure that it is witchcraft hidden beneath a politically correct neologism.

Witchcraft has become a hot topic in recent years. From J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter books to self-described witches agitating for political and social parity with mainstream religious traditions, Christians have had to re-examine witchcraft and formulate a modern apologetic approach to it.

In an age of science and skepticism, it may be difficult to understand why intelligent people would be drawn to witchcraft, which encompasses both a methodology of casting spells and invoking spirits and an ideology that encourages finding gods and goddesses both in nature and within the self. In her “conversion story,” self-described Wiccan high priestess Phyllis Curott, an Ivy League-educated lawyer who was raised by agnostics, describes her journey from secular materialism to Wicca as a rejection of the idea that humans are made for mammon alone:

I discovered the answers . . . to questions buried at the center of my soul . . . How are we to find our lost souls? How can we rediscover the sacred from which we have been separated for thousands of years? How can we live free of fear and filled with divine love and compassion? . . . How can we restore and protect this Eden, which is our fragile planet? (Curott, Book of Shadows, xii)

These are indeed important questions that deserve answers, answers that can be found in their fullness in Christ and in his Church. In a homily then-Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger gave at the Mass just before his election to the papacy, he famously observed:

How many winds of doctrine have we known in recent decades, how many ideological currents, how many ways of thinking. The small boat of the thought of many Christians has often been tossed about by these waves—flung from one extreme to another: from Marxism to liberalism, even to libertinism; from collectivism to radical individualism; from atheism to a vague religious mysticism; from agnosticism to syncretism and so forth.

Witchcraft has been around for centuries, perhaps even millennia, but is emerging once more from the shadows as one answer to skepticism, to materialism, even to self-absorption. It is, so to speak, the wrong answer to the right questions; it is, as the Catechism of the Catholic Church says, “gravely contrary to the virtue of religion” (CCC 2117). Catholics should not discourage these questions but must be prepared to offer the only answer: Christ and his Church.

Witchcraft’s apologists like to claim that they are the misunderstood victims of centuries of religious prejudice. Unfortunately, all too many Christians make such claims credible when they misunderstand witchcraft and craft their rebuttals of it based upon those misconceptions. If someone you know is dabbling in witchcraft, here are five things you should know before starting a conversation with him.

Witches do not believe in Satan.

If there is one belief common to witches everywhere, it is that they do not believe in Satan and that they do not practice Satanism. Witchcraft’s apologists are quick to point this out.

Denise Zimmermann and her co-authors of The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Wicca and Witchcraft emphasize, “Witches don’t believe in Satan! . . . The all-evil Satan is a Christian concept that plays no part in the Wiccan religion . . . Witches do not believe that negativity or evil is an organized force. . . . Neither do Wiccans believe there is a place (hell) where the damned or the evil languish and suffer” (13).

Christian apologists should acknowledge that witches do not consciously worship Satan and that they do not believe he exists. But this does not mean that Satan needs to be left entirely out of the conversation. A Christian apologist should point out that belief in someone does not determine that person’s actual reality.

One way to demonstrate this is to ask the witch if she believes in the pope. “No,” she’s likely to answer. “The pope is a Christian figure.” True, you concede. But there is a man in Rome who holds the office of the papacy, right? Your belief or disbelief in the papacy does not determine whether or not the papacy exists. Put that way, a person will have to acknowledge that something or someone can exist independently of belief in its reality. That’s when you can make the case that Satan exists and that he does not require belief to determine his reality or his action in someone’s life. In fact, disbelief in him can make it easier for him to accomplish his ends.

In the preface to The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis notes that “There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them. They themselves are equally pleased by both errors and hail a materialist or a magician with the same delight.”

While it is true that witches do not directly worship Satan or practice Satanism, their occult practices, such as divination, and their worship of false gods and of each other and themselves—which they explain as worshipping the “goddess within”—can open them to demonic activity. To make the case though, it is imperative to present it in a manner that won’t be dismissed out of hand.

Witchcraft and Wicca are not synonyms.

Wicca, originally spelled Wica, is the name given to a subset of witchcraft by its founder Gerald Gardner in the 1950s. Although some claim the word Wicca means “wise,” in her book Drawing Down the Moon, Margot Adler states that it “derive[s] from a root wic, or weik, which has to do with religion and magic” (40). Adler also says that the word witch originates with wicce and wicca. Marian Singer explains the difference between Wicca and witchcraft this way: “Witchcraft implies a methodology . . . whereas the word Wiccan refers to a person who has adopted a specific religious philosophy” (The Everything Wicca and Witchcraft Book, 4).

Because witchcraft is often defined as a methodology and Wicca as an ideology, a person who considers himself a witch but not a Wiccan may participate in many of the same practices as a Wiccan, such as casting spells, divining the future, perhaps even banding together with others to form a coven. This can make it easy for an outsider to presume that both the witch and the Wiccan share the same beliefs. But, if someone tells you he is not a Wiccan, it is only courteous to accept that. The Christian case against witchcraft does not depend on a witch identifying himself as a Wiccan. (There are also Wiccans who reject the label “witch,” but this is often a distinction without a difference. Even so, use the preferred term to avoid alienating the person with whom you are speaking.)

Several strands of Wicca attract followings, including: Gardnerian, Alexandrian, and Georgian, which are named for their founders; Seax, which patterns itself on Saxon folklore; Black Forest, which is an eclectic hodgepodge of Wiccan traditions; and the feminist branch known as Dianic Wicca after the Roman goddess Diana. Knowing the distinctions among these traditions may not be important for the Christian apologist, but he should keep in mind that there are distinctions and that he should not make statements that start out with “Wiccans believe . . .” Rather, allow the other person to explain what he believes and then build a Christian apologetic tailored to that person’s needs.

Witches question authority.

When dealing with self-identified witches, remember that no two witches will agree with each other on just about anything. Witches are non-dogmatic to the extreme, with one witch apologist suggesting “[s]ending dogma to the doghouse” and claiming that “[r]eligious dogma and authority relieve a person of the responsibility of deciding on his or her own actions” (Diane Smith, Wicca & Witchcraft for Dummies, 32).

Generally speaking, witches prefer to give authority to their own personal experiences. Phyllis Curott, author of a book titled Witch Crafting, puts it this way: “Witches, whether we are women or men, experience the Goddess within us and in the world all around us. I love what Starhawk [witch and popular speaker and writer] said about this: ‘People often ask me if I believe in the Goddess. I reply, Do you believe in rocks?’” (121, emphasis in original). In other words, witches know “the Goddess” exists because they can experience her by at least one of their five senses. Faith in such a material deity calls to mind the demon Screwtape’s longing for hell’s “perfect work—the Materialist Magician” (Lewis, The Screwtape Letters, 31).

Throwing a bucket of cold water on a witch’s “personal experiences” will not be easy, particularly since one of the frightening.aspects of witchcraft is that some witches do have, and blithely report, extraordinary preternatural experiences. Incidents that could and should scare away many dabblers from playing with forces beyond their control are recounted by witchcraft’s apologists as affirmative of their path. Curott tells of a man who once dreamed of “being prey” of a monstrous creature; ultimately, in the dream, he was captured by the creature. Rather than taking this as a sign he should reconsider the path down which he was heading, he awoke “deeply transformed” by the dream’s ending because he believed “tremendous love” was felt for him by the creature. He eventually became a Wiccan priest (Witch Crafting, 154–155).

How can a Christian argue against a belief like that?

Ultimately, it may be that a Damascus-road moment might be necessary to sway someone that deeply entrenched in traffic with preternatural creatures. To those who are not as enmeshed, a Christian can point out that sometimes apologists for the occult have warned their readers not to be taken in by their experiences with spirits.

In a section of his book titled “Practicing Safe Spirituality,” author Carl McColman gives a checklist of “some common-sense precautions” occultists should be aware of “while meditating, doing ritual, reflecting on your dreams, or doing any other spiritual work that may involve contact with spirits.” The first item on the list is “Don’t automatically believe everything you hear. Just because a spirit says something doesn’t make it so” (The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Paganism, 129).

Witchcraft is an inversion of Catholicism.

Observers of witchcraft have claimed that it is remarkably similar to Catholicism. Catholic journalist and medievalist Sandra Miesel called it “Catholicism without Christ” (“The Witches Next Door,” Crisis, June 2002). Writer and editor Charlotte Allen noted that “Practicing Wicca is a way to have Christianity without, well, the burdens of Christianity” (“The Scholars and the Goddess,” The Atlantic, January 2001).

It’s easy to see why the assertion is made. Allen notes that as witchcraft cycles through its “liturgical year,” many of its adherents honor a goddess who births a god believed to live, die, and rise again. Fraternization with apparently friendly preternatural spirits is encouraged and eagerly sought. The rituals of witchcraft call to mind Catholic liturgies, particularly the libation and blessing ritual alternately known as “Cakes and Wine” and “Cakes and Ale.” Like Catholics collecting rosaries, scapulars, statues, and prayer books, witches have their own “potions, notions, and tools” as Curott calls them —some of which include jewelry, statues and dolls, and spell books and journals.

But to say that witchcraft has uncanny similarities to Catholicism is to understate the matter. Witchcraft is an inversion of Catholicism: Catholicism emptied of Christ and stood on its head. This is most readily seen in witchcraft’s approach to authority.

In his book Rome Sweet Home, Scott Hahn compares authority in the Church to a hierarchical pyramid with the pope at the top, with all of the members, including the pope, reaching upward toward God (46–47). With its antipathy to authority and its reach inward to the self and downward to preternatural spirits, witchcraft could also be illustrated with a triangle—every adherent poised at the top as his own authority and pointed down in the sort of “Lower Command” structure envisioned by Lewis’s Screwtape.

Witchcraft is dangerous.

In my work as an apologist, I have read a number of introductory books to various non-Catholic and non-Christian religions. Never before my investigation into witchcraft had I seen introductory books on a religion that warn you about the dangers involved in practicing it. The dangers that witch apologists warn newcomers about are both corporal and spiritual.

In her book, Diane Smith includes a chapter titled “Ten Warning Signs of a Scam or Inappropriate Behavior” (Wicca & Witchcraft for Dummies, chapter 23). Her top-10 list includes “Inflicting Harm,” “Charging Inappropriate Fees or Demanding Undue Money,” “Engaging in Sexual Manipulation,” “Using Illicit Drugs or Excessive Amounts of Alcohol in Spiritual Practice,” and “Breeding Paranoia.” Smith claims that such a need to be wary is common to religion: “[U]nscrupulous or unstable people sometimes perpetrate scams or other manipulations under the guise of religion, and this situation is as true for Wicca as for other religious groups” (317).

However true it may be that there can be “unscrupulous or unstable people” involved in traditional religions, most practitioners—Christian or otherwise—do not experience problems with these behaviors to such an extent that religious apologists see the need to issue caveats to proselytes. That Smith does so suggests that these problems are far more widespread in witchcraft than in traditional religion.

We noted one paganism apologist who warned his readers to “practice safe spirituality.” McColman goes on to caution that the “advice” of spirits “must be in accordance with your own intuition for it to be truly useful.” He goes on to say, “You remain responsible for your own decisions. Remember that spirit guides make mistakes like everybody else!” (Paganism, 128).

Catholics concerned about loved ones involved with witchcraft may not be attracted to witchcraft themselves, but there is danger for them in pursuing dabblers down the road to the occult in hopes of drawing them back. In preparing themselves to answer the claims of witchcraft, they may feel the need to read books like those mentioned in this article. If they are not fully educated and firm in their own faith, such Catholics may find their own faith under attack. Three suggestions are in order.

Not all are called to be apologists. If you are not intellectually and spiritually prepared to answer the claims of witchcraft, leave such work to others. Search out knowledgeable Catholics with whom your loved one can speak.

Prepare yourself. Common sense indicates that if you are about to rappel down a cliff, you do so with safety ropes firmly attached and in the presence of someone you trust who can help you if you are in danger. Don’t even think of rappelling down a spiritual cliff without seeking to fortify yourself intellectually and spiritually—particularly spiritually. Inform your confessor or spiritual director of your plans to study and answer the claims of witchcraft. Ask trusted Catholic friends to pray for your work. Regularly receive the sacraments of confession and the Eucharist. If you need to stop or take a break from this area of apologetics, by all means do so. And, most importantly:

Pray. Whether or not you are called to personally minister to those involved in witchcraft, the most fundamental thing you can do to help witches and other dabblers in the occult is to pray.

Saints whose intercession you can seek include Bl. Bartholomew Longo, the repentant former satanic priest who returned to the Church and spent the rest of his life promoting the rosary; St. Benedict, who battled pagans and whose medal is often worn in protection against the devil; St. Michael the Archangel (Jude 1:9), invoked especially by the prayer for his intercession commonly attributed to Pope Leo XIII. And, of course, there’s St. Paul, who reminds us: “For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:38–39).

SIDEBARS

The Catechism on Witchcraft

There are a great many kinds of sins. Scripture provides several lists of them. The Letter to the Galatians contrasts the works of the flesh with the fruit of the Spirit: “Now the works of the flesh are plain: fornication, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, anger, selfishness, dissension, factions, envy, drunkenness, carousing, and the like. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things shall not inherit the Kingdom of God.” (CCC 1852)

God can reveal the future to his prophets or to other saints. Still, a sound Christian attitude consists in putting oneself confidently into the hands of Providence for whatever concerns the future, and giving up all unhealthy curiosity about it. Improvidence, however, can constitute a lack of responsibility. (CCC 2115)

All forms of divination are to be rejected: recourse to Satan or demons, conjuring up the dead or other practices falsely supposed to “unveil” the future. Consulting horoscopes, astrology, palm reading, interpretation of omens and lots, the phenomena of clairvoyance, and recourse to mediums all conceal a desire for power over time, history, and, in the last analysis, other human beings, as well as a wish to conciliate hidden powers. They contradict the honor, respect, and loving fear that we owe to God alone. (CCC 2116)

All practices of magic or sorcery, by which one attempts to tame occult powers, so as to place them at one’s service and have a supernatural power over others—even if this were for the sake of restoring their health—are gravely contrary to the virtue of religion. These practices are even more to be condemned when accompanied by the intention of harming someone, or when they have recourse to the intervention of demons. Wearing charms is also reprehensible. Spiritism often implies divination or magical practices; the Church for her part warns the faithful against it. Recourse to so-called traditional cures does not justify either the invocation of evil powers or the exploitation of another’s credulity. (CCC 2117)

Prayer to St. Michael the Archangel

St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly hosts, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan, and all the evil spirits, who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.

Further Reading

Charlotte Allen, “The Scholars and the Goddess,” The Atlantic, January 2001 (Available online: www.theatlantic.com)

C. S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters (HarperCollins)

Sandra Miesel, “Who Burned the Witches?” Crisis, October 2001 (Available online: www.catholiceducation.org)

Sandra Miesel, “The Witches Next Door,” Crisis, June 2002

Catherine Edwards Sanders, Wicca’s Charm: Understanding the Spiritual Hunger Behind the Rise of Modern Witchcraft and Pagan Spirituality (Shaw Books, 2005)

Donna Steichen, Ungodly Rage: The Hidden Face of Catholic Feminism (Ignatius, 1991)

Alois Wiesinger, O.C.S.O, Occult Phenomena in the Light of Theology (Roman Catholic Books)

#catholicanswers #catholic answers

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sepublic · 4 years

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Y'know, I had a thought about Emperor Belos magic today. After all, what is a Sphere, if not a completed, absolute Circle?

…You know, I have to really wonder what this implies. Especially since Belos’ portal is circular in structure. Is he simply trying to cast a VERY powerful spell by casting an equally-powerful circle, and that involves making a sphere…? It’s a lot to consider, especially given how Belos potentially has FMA vibes with Father from that series, and the exact schematics of HIS plans involving a Portal still confuse me to this day… Obviously a lot of it was probably meant to be more metaphorical than literal, but you get the idea. There’s some sort of clever geometry word-play and puns here with what you said Anon, about a Sphere just being a ‘complete’ circle, and it’s making my mind think…

Does this imply that his magic is more ‘layered’ than those of other witches, like an onion or an ogre? Is Belos simply ‘concentrating’ his circle into a defined sphere, or is he SO powerful that he can cast multiple spells at once, and these powerful circles are combined and manifested as a sphere? Is this the result of his unusual nature and connection with the Titan, potentially him being able to communicate with it? The application of Glyphs with Bile, his devouring of Palismans? Is this a hint at incredibly powerful magic and/or knowledgable skill?

Keep in mind; Luz’s Witch’s Wool cloak deflects spells, yet Belos casually is able to envelop Luz –cloak included!- in his magic to telekinetically raise and throw her! And while it’s possible the cloak merely deflects outright attacks and blasts, and being raised in the air technically doesn’t count… It really makes one think about Belos defying the conventional rules and laws of reality, and reordering them as he sees fit! Perhaps this is hypocritical given his emphasis on obeying order and doing magic the ‘proper’ way, or merely an extension of his elitist belief that only those like his Emperor’s Coven should have the privilege to experiment as they so desire!

It’s like Belos is taking apart, analyzing, and putting back together magic as if it’s a machine made of constituent parts… And then with his better understanding from dissection, he’s remaking Magic itself! Reinventing the power of manner of Circles, evolving them into full-on Spheres! It’s the result of Belos simply looking at circles, realizing a sphere is merely a ‘completed’ one, and wondering why he can’t make that, and how he could if given the chance?

And because Spheres are such an alien and different method of magic, it’s able to completely bypass the Witch’s Wool cape, which is likely designed for Bile and Glyph-based magic! It’d be an interesting parallel to the speculation that Luz’s Glyphs counteract Coven Bindings in that they can’t be bound and are thus a ‘workaround’ to the system… Of course, while Luz is rediscovering a lost form of magic, it’s possible that Belos has invented an entirely new system that only HE can utilize, because of access to Bile AND his communication with the Titan and nature! And that form of magic is invincible for Belos, if only because nobody else is well-versed in it, can’t understand how it works, and thus how to defend appropriately! But the thing is…

We’ve also seen Luz combine Glyphs and Bile, through her pieces of paper and Owlbert’s own natural magic reserves! She’s even able to activate Fire Glyphs from a distance by invoking Owlbert’s power, which definitely suggests something in the future of the potential of Hybrid Magic… Especially when one considers what this show has to say about different things coming together to create a greater whole, as the entire concept of Mixed-Magic as done by Viney and the Detention Kids illustrates!

Honestly there is a LOT to consider about the heavy implications of what you’ve said, Anon, and I gratefully thank you for this observation! It’s making my mind think and race, and while I don’t have anything I can definitely say on the subject outright as of now, it’s nevertheless VERY intriguing and will hopefully lead itself to a theory or two about Belos and the mysteries surrounding him!

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house belos #emperor belos #speculation #magic #glyphs #ask

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tiny-maus-boots · 4 years

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The Howl pt 17

A/N: almost there. one last chapter. i think. thank you thank you thank you to my beta and bestie @chloes-yellow-cup for always do the thing. yes this is the unedited version, the fully (probably) edited version will be posted later on that ao3 thing.

17.

Stacie shut the door to the truck and glanced up at the sun, it was setting quickly and the pack would change soon. Aubrey joined her from around the front of the vehicle pulling the helmet from her head and giving the sun a snarling lip curl. She had to clear her throat to keep from chuckling as they clasped hands and laced their fingers in a gesture that was as reflexive and automatic as the act of breathing.

Her family gathered around them, boiling over with excess energy. They hadn’t asked for the whole pack to join them; it could turn out badly and she’d never fault a wolf for thinking of their family first. But they were there, every single one of them, prepared to do battle but finally willing to submit to her and let her lead diplomatically.

“I want you to know I... we appreciate everyone being here. I made you all a promise, someone would answer for what happened to Wade.” A low rumbling growl rose like a tide around them, the wolves of a single mind and focus. “Tonight we bring his murderer to justice, pack justice.”

Voices rose around them in union with shouts of agreement. Stacie closed her eyes and took a breath just as the sun dipped below the horizon. She could feel the pull of the moon as it rose high but it wasn’t strong enough to force her wolf to the surface anymore. The cool current of Aubrey’s power flowing between them steadied and calmed her. The Alpha opened her eyes to find her mate watching her, a slow smile easing on to her face when she realized Stacie wasn’t going to shift.

They had been banking on her newfound control over the moon to work in their favor. But breaking her shift to consummate her mating was not the same thing as holding back the hot prickling tide of power on the night when the blood moon was at its strongest. The pack quickly undressed and dropped to all fours, some of them shifting with much less effort than normal. Stacie didn’t think it was just the moon, there was something different about them in general. She felt connected to them all as if they were finally one mind, one voice, one joined howl.

Even Redd who stayed at the fringes still nursing a jaw that was quickly healing. He hadn’t exactly come crawling forward on his belly but he had quieted and seemed at least for now, willing to accept Aubrey’s place in the pack. Stacie’s gaze drifted over to his lean figure as it twisted and rolled in the shift between man and wolf. She watched him as the rest of the pack changed and resettled themselves around Aubrey and Stacie waiting for their word. The tall brunette gave Aubrey’s hand a gentle squeeze and raised a brow teasingly.

“Ready to bring me home to the fam?”

“Hm. I hope you can keep up, Puppy.”

Stacie gave her a playful growl and Aubrey bolted through the trees in a pale blur, her bare feet hardly making a dimple on the soft dusting of light snow. She chuckled as several of her wolves, many of them outliers, turned and bounded after the vampire. A barrel-chested wolf padded forward and shook his shaggy head. She reached out and ran a hand through Angus’ fur, more as a comfort for herself than him she suspected.

“If anything happens, you keep the pack together. Understand?”

He sneezed at that and groaned but bobbed his head in understanding. Stacie gave a nod of her own and sprinted off after Aubrey and her entourage. She could feel the rest of the pack keeping pace with her, and the wild thrill that came with running under the light of the full moon. She couldn’t tell if Aubrey had slowed down or she had just finally caught up but the miles flew by under their feet as they ran side by side. The trek was effortless and it seemed that the woods swayed gently in a breeze that wasn’t there, a way opening easily through the Tongass to let them through.

They crested a low ridge that brought them in view of a small cabin that looked more like an abandoned hunter’s shack than the home of a coven of vampires. They slowed to a stop at the ending edge of the copse that surrounded the clearing the cabin sat at the center of. It was eerily silent there and she realized that outside of the pack no living creatures claimed the area. Stacie gave Aubrey an uncertain look but the blonde only nodded and stepped forward out of the shelter of trees. She waited a beat and stepped out after her, wolves flowed around them out of the forest in light trot that belied the alert flick of ears parsing out every sound around them.

The door swung open on well-oiled hinges and a tall blonde woman stepped out. Others followed in her wake but they didn’t hold her focus the way the woman had. She was beautiful and Stacie could easily see the family resemblance but there was something terrifying about the weight of power that surrounded her. They met in the middle, Aubrey stopping just out of arm’s reach from the other woman. Stacie moved into place at her mate’s left side giving her room to draw her ever present machete from the sheath on her back if necessary.

The older vampire cast a glance at Stacie and dismissed her without so much as a second glance. Her focus was for Aubrey alone as she studied every line and contour of her niece’s face searching for something. She was flawless but everything about her moments seemed wrong and unnatural. If she had ever shown any semblance of humanity it was long ago and all that was left was an alien and incomprehensible to the Alpha.

“The prodigal has returned at last.”

“Yes, and with news of the revenants and their maker”

It was said just loud enough for the other assembled vampires to hear. A whisper slithered among them as they watched Aubrey curiously. Aubrey’s aunt stiffened her back and narrowed her eyes at Stacie’s mate. There would be no way now to make any of this private and The Lady didn’t like that. It was enough of a confirmation that she was guilty of something and Stacie exchanged a look with Bree.

“Do you?” It was dangerous and low and Stacie wanted to take a step closer to Aubrey when she circled them both, having to weave around furred bodies that had fit themselves between them and The Lady of the coven. It made her stop short and she gave the wolves a look of irritation before transferring it to Aubrey. “And you brought home strays it would seem.”

A low sound of dissent rumbled through the pack and it compounded whatever grave imagined insult Aubrey had had given her. The woman glared down her nose at Stacie’s mate and pulled a lip back in a disgusted curl that was all too familiar.

“You’ve been gone a month to lie with dogs and yet you have forgotten how to heel. Have you forgotten your place, niece?”

For a moment, the wolf in her threatened to take over in a roar of anger at the insult but that would only push them into dangerous waters. The Lady was obviously baiting them for a reaction either to immediately discredit them or to tip things past the point of no return. Stacie swallowed down the anger, hands reaching out to pet and soothe the snarling wolves around them. The brunette tipped her head to the side with a lazy smirk, her voice slow drawl.

“Her place is at my side. And the mate of an Alpha kneels to no one.”

Stacie was sure however old this creature was she had seen and heard many things and found none of them surprising. But it was pretty clear she’d done just that. The vampire moved forward to examine her with the same intense focus she had shown Aubrey.

“That is not possible. Humans cannot be Alphas of wolf packs.”

“Who said I’m human?”

Pale green eyes flickered with curiosity before that impenetrable mask fell into place. Stacie raised her chin slightly a challenging smirk on her face.

“It is the blood moon is it not? No wolf has been able to resist that lure, not even Alphas.”

The scoffing disbelief irked her and Stacie let power swell inside of her as the wolf spilled forth. She couldn’t feel them change but she knew the moment her eyes had gone soft glowing amber with a ring of icy silver around them by the quiet gasp of surprise the ancient woman made.

“And yet here I stand…”

It was a little flippant and she knew it but she was giving less and less fucks as every minute slipped by them during this little power play. The older vampire turned abruptly and deliberately swished the last few steps to stand in front of Aubrey. Her voice a hiss of a whisper not meant to carry past the three of them.

“Quite surprising niece. Such power and for how long I wonder? How long have you been lying to us all?”

Aubrey’s back straightened and she rolled a shoulder in an unconcerned shrug. “Not as long as you have…”

Something passed between them like a lightning bolt, charging the air and raising Stacie’s hackles. Power flared and pulsed through her connection and she felt Aubrey’s emotions roil with unexpected defiance. Aubrey was done being pushed around and bullied; she was finally able to stand up on her own against her tyrannical aunt.

The Lady appraised her again, her sharp eye assessing a new and unexpected adversary in Aubrey. Stacie could see the shift in her demeanor as real fear flickered in the depths of her eyes. Her deep red lips twitched with momentary uncertainty before she pulled herself together. Her eyes flared silver with barely contained rage.

“Have a care niece, what secrets you lay bare. You may regret your existence for your choices. Remember who has protected you all these many years.”

Stacie felt the growl rise in her throat at the threat, her shoulders tensed as she struggled to contain her wolf. Aubrey gave a dainty snort and stepped closer to her aunt; each movement filled with tightly coiled energy. If menace were a tangible thing her mate would be wearing it like a cloak.

“I have regretted every moment since my birth under your protective hand. Have a care aunt, what existence you threaten when your own rests so perilously in mine.”

It was totally an inappropriate time to be turned on but it was hard not to be. Aubrey brushed past The Lady and stood before the rest of the vampires to address them directly. It was different than watching Aubrey confront the pack, at least with the wolves there was something to read. Tiny movements, gestures, rumbles of agreement or growls of anger. But vampires gave nothing but the barest awareness of what was happening. They watched stone faced and silent as thought they were waiting for something to animate them.

“You tasked me with tracking and hunting the revenants to find the source and eradicate the contamination…”

“Yes, and you still have not done so.”

A low murmur went through the vampires and she gave a slight nod of agreement. Stacie focused her attention on the one who had spoken. He was tall and slightly stoop shouldered, and there was something predatory about the way he looked at Aubrey that make Stacie’s lips pull back in a warning growl as he approached.

“Unfortunate circumstance kept me from pursing the source…”

“You mean you killed the creatures before you could learn anything of value.”

He wasn’t going to let her get a word in if he could help it and Stacie wondered if that was because he didn’t like Aubrey or because he had something to hide. She stepped forward, pushing into the tense space between him and her mate.

“Luckily for you she got to examine the last victim of your little problem.”

He hissed at her but backed up a step, unwilling to stand too close apparently. A spark of something flickered through the vampires and the wolves closed in tighter around their Alpha.

“One of your own took the life of our brother and friend. I hold the coven accountable for his death.”

The Lady turned sharply to look at her and Stacie met her cold gaze. If they didn’t get what they were asking for they would tear the coven apart and scatter the ashes to the wind. She didn’t have to say it out loud, the vampires knew what they were facing in the moment.

“And what do you propose would make this right for you?”

It didn’t hold an ounce of the disdain and venom that her earlier tone had but there was still something calculating just under the surface. It made Stacie wary and she glanced at Aubrey for reassurance. The vampire gave her a slight nod back and she sighed.

“I want his killer. It’s a win win for both of us, yeah? We get justice and you get rid of your problem child.”

Aubrey’s aunt went still in a way that the living can never truly be. Power crackled like electricity around her as she leaned forward slightly, head inclined and a Cheshire like smile crawled across her face. It was a nothing gesture but the articulation of it was all unnatural and creepy as hell.

“But we have no killer to produce. Aubrey was apparently too busy fucking you to do her job.”

Some people snickered snidely at that but Aubrey herself seemed to have zero shame about it and shrugged idly.

“I had time between orgasms to work.”

Several wolves pawed at the ground and bayed their amusement. Stacie chuckled and crossed her arms over her chest as her mate prowled back to her aunt with regal grace.

“When I examined Wade, I found a hint of a scent. Faint certainly but there was no mistaking it for a pure bloodline. The Alpha of the pack has confirmed the presence of…”

“And what makes you think we trust your bitch?”

It came from the circle of listening vampires and it seemed surprised even them. The tall mouthy vampire from before strutted forward boldly despite the snarling barks and growls. Rage filled their connection and she guessed he made it three full steps before Aubrey was on him, fist rocketing forward with blinding speed. The pack raised their voices in a low howl that made the vampires take a few steps back toward the cabin as if it alone would keep the wolves at bay.

The blow landed hard sending him staggering to the ground but he was quick to recover and skitter back behind the safety of numbers. Aubrey moved to give chase but Stacie tugged lightly on their connection drawing the vampire’s gaze. Focus, love. This was a distraction from what they came for and she knew that under the anger, Aubrey knew it too. The blonde vampire bared her fangs and hissed him before making her way back to Stacie’s side.

“You can trust in one thing if you will not trust my word as a Posen. The wolves only want the killer, but they’ll take the whole coven if they have to.”

Bodies shifted nervously and all eyes turned toward The Lady of the coven. She gave a resigned nod having already expected the statement. A weary eyed knowledge settled on her features and she waved a hand dismissively.

“Yes, yes. Utter annihilation of the coven. It was foretold, it’s the only reason I agreed to this meeting in the first place. Just tell us what you want so we can be done with this before the sun rises.”

Aubrey nodded in agreement, and all the vampires glanced up at the sky to track the position of the moon.

“There are but a handful of vampires that could be responsible. Someone older than I, but younger than you, Aunt.” Aubrey glared at the other woman standing just a few feet away. “Someone close enough to your council to know my every move as I make it. Some bitten vampire pretending to be high born, sitting in our midst and threatening our very existence. Can you think of no one at all that fits this description?”

“Why would I know of such a person?”

“Because they came from our line.”

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zombiescantfly · 4 years

Text

Halo and the Burden of the Extended Universe

Halo, as in the initial trilogy of games one through three, has been about one man, known only by his rank, traveling to exotic alien superstructures hanging in deep space, traversing their surfaces on foot and in a variety of human and alien military vehicles, and mowing down literally hundreds of enemies per level. Throughout that trilogy, we’re supposed to believe that these aliens, the Covenant, pose a great risk to all of humanity. We’re told, by way of the instruction manuals and some NPC chatter, that these aliens have pushed our own species, at the time a massive space-faring empire, back to the singular planet of our birth.

In all three games, we just barely make our way to the latest superstructure, clawing our way there against what's said to be insurmountable odds. We're constantly told that we're low on resources, low on time, we barely have a foot in the door while the Covenant have already made their bed. And yet, every single game, we win. Effortlessly. Constantly.

And not only do we win, but we prevent the total annihilation of all life in the universe no less than once per game, sometimes more! Untold hordes of enemies fall at our controller-wielding fingertips, but somehow we're meant to accept that this one is our last chance, for real, we swear. Still, problems come and go at the whim of an inattentive scriptwriter, built up to be the most important thing we've ever seen, left perfectly resolved at the end of a 20-minute level.

In every game, the goalposts are constantly shifting, pushed further and further back by writers who realize, sweat on their brows, that they've started with the destruction of all life in the universe and have to somehow amp it up from there. For three games.

To put it mildly, they are not successful.

What do we have to be afraid of? Not the Covenant, because even the worst weapons we have available to us can tear them apart. All life on Earth, the last bastion of our species, is put at risk a full three times over the course of two games, and every single time we, as the protagonist, turn our back on the problem and are promised it will be solved when we aren't looking. If the Halo rings are fired, all life in the universe dies! Except when it was fired in Halo 2 and only sent a standby signal before being deactivated. Except when it was fired in Halo 3 using a never-before-heard-of "tactical pulse" that is at perfect odds with everything it was stated to do in all three games.

There's no threat that sticks, no threat that matters. Everything the games have told us to be afraid of are continuously revealed to be utterly inconsequential. Even the moment-to-moment threats become routine, the moment-to-moment losses, unnoticeable. How many times have you gathered a squad of friendly Marines only to lose them all in the next gunfight? Well, don't worry, here comes a Pelican with four new ones, no questions asked. Yes, we're running low on fuel and men and supplies, but here you go Chief, you're special.

But why are we special? Who is The Master Chief? We know some things, but not a lot. We're a supersoldier, a Spartan. We have a ship's AI in our head who tells us what LZs to clear and does all the talking for us. Across three games, approximately thirty hours of gameplay, our main character has a mere sixty-eight lines of dialogue, and most of it doesn't pass the five word mark. Cortana, in comparison, has nearly six hundred spoken lines. Our hero is characterized only by lines like "boo," "green, sir," "I need a weapon," "understood," and "we'll make it."

Truly, a fascinating and deep character to go down in the annals of gaming history. A man brimming with all the personality of a cardboard box, all the empathy of a brick, and all the motives of a potted plant.

And yet, every Halo fan out there will tell you how cool he is, how haunted by his past he is, how deeply he feels the loss of his comrades, and how much he cares for his tiny blue Garmin.

Why? We played the same games, right? With all the same plot holes and haphazardly shifting priorities, the miniscule cast of named characters that never do anything to extend past their paint-by-numbers archetype? What are they getting out this that I haven’t?

Well, they read the books.

To them, Halo has an excuse. There aren't any plot holes, none at all, because you can just read this piece of licensed fiction to plug it. Are you still uncertain, well over a decade after the fact, just how much time passed between Halo 2 and 3? There's a graphic novel to answer that for you. What about the Arbiter, why didn't he stick around to try to form a proper treaty with humanity after the end of Halo 3? Read the book to find out. Okay then, the Flood invasion of Earth, how'd that get cleaned up so fast? Don't worry, watch the animated short.

This isn't how storytelling works.

You don't get to present a player of your game, a buyer of your product, with one third of a story and then tell them the rest exists as multiple books. You don't get to ignore key plot points that would bring your story together just so they can be sold off years later in a different medium.

External media, should your property have it, should be to expand on things the primary property has no room for. Hinted-at background events. Formative character experiences. Something tangentially related that still ties in to the main story. If it's really that important, tell your writers to make room for it in the main product.

Halo has the room for it. Each game will probably take a first-time player around ten hours for a first playthrough, and far less time on subsequent runs. These games are short, but they attempt to tell a story many times larger than they make room for. So make more room. End the focus on getting players in and out in a single weekend sitting. Let your characters talk to each other beyond exchanging stiff one-liners in cutscenes. Stop making every level a bombastic, breakneck setpiece and give the story room to breathe, to actually be told. If it’s the end of the universe we’re dealing with, surely you can spare us more than nine measly levels? Let us actually see the larger situation rather than being told about it. Do you really think Halo fans would complain about a campaign taking fifteen to twenty hours to beat? They love Halo, they want to spend time with it. Capitalize on that, and take the opportunity to finally, actually tell a story with all the parts in it instead of just a third.

Which brings us, finally, to Halo: Reach.

Certain Halo fans, largely the same group of them that defend the poor storytelling because “it’s in the books,” have a reaction to Halo: Reach that can best be described as ‘vitriolic.’ They don’t like it. Why?

Because it’s not like the book.

You see, while Halo: Reach came out in 2010, a book by the name of Halo: The Fall of Reach came out some months before the first Halo game in 2001. They are both about the same event, but with quite major differences. This caused quite a lot of contention at the time of Reach’s release, mainly from the part of the fanbase that believed they were going to get a one-to-one retelling of this book in videogame form.

They didn’t get that. Halo: Reach is an original story that tells the tale of a world’s final hours and one team of elite supersoldiers as they attempt to do anything they can to help delay the inevitable end. It’s not the most compelling story ever written, or even the most compelling version of that story ever told, but it’s effective. Even though we’re dealing with the imminent destruction of an entire planet, the story manages to stay small. Reach’s ultimate destruction is a common piece of wall graffiti or NPC combat barks, so the ending is known, leaving room for smaller objectives to take the spotlight. Rescue civilians trapped behind enemy lines. Delay an invasion force to buy evacuation efforts another hour. Clear the skies so supplies and medivac can go out.

Halo: Reach has almost no connection to the series at large, and it’s quite the breath of fresh air. As a prequel, its ending is a forgone conclusion, but it does what it can with the time it has. The messy, convoluted politics of Halo 2 and 3 are far in the series’ chronological future, letting you fight two enemy factions at once for the first time in the series, away from the plot point that sees them at war with each other. The end of the universe isn’t constantly being dangled over our heads for the third time in as many games, so the characters have a chance to sit down and swap banter, tell us who they are. They aren’t anyone too terribly compelling - Bungie still hadn’t quite figured out character writing - but they’re tested archetypes played well enough for the story’s demands. The threat is known and static, the stakes grow higher by way of the ticking clock drawing us ever closer to the planet’s inevitable end. There’s no faffing around with “trading one villain for another” because killing the first one would have ended the story too quickly, so a new one has to show up with no lead-in.

Even at the very end of that original trilogy, Halo’s story was too big for the time Bungie gave it. Its own plot points were shoving at each other, jockeying for position, knocking parts off themselves in an effort to fit into nine half-hour levels until all that was left were fractions of what you’d need to find in the books afterward.

Reach suffers from its own short length, but not in the same way. It suffers in that you can point to the characters and they say needed more setup, more time with each other, maybe another level or two here or there to really draw the relationship out. It suffers by pushing a little too hard at the “imminent end” angle, hurrying you through and skipping over hours of in-world time that probably could have been their own level.

But surely even the superfans saw that this was preferable? That a standalone story was the best way to go about things? Surely they understood that attempting to simply recreate the book would have ended with them not seeing any of what Bungie came up with for this new game? There’s a lot to like about Halo: Reach, and a lot to do in it that you can’t do in any of the other games. Surely even the most fervent defenders of the extended canon ended up coming around and being able to separate the two for what they both were on their own.

Of course, that’s not what happened. See again, ‘vitriolic.’ And so here we are at the question this whole thing has been building up to. When a company leans as hard into external supplemental media as Bungie did for Halo, is it then obligated to play by the rules and plot points outlined in those external entities? It’s a tricky question, mostly because up until that point, Bungie had gone ahead as if every book and animated short and comic and webisode was one hundred percent canonical. The reason superfans tolerated those gaping plot holes in the games is, again, because they weren’t holes at all when paired with their companion media. So now, in the far-past year of 2010, Bungie has suddenly decided that one of those sacred tomes of external knowledge is incorrect.

I think the easiest answer would have simply been to...tell the proper amount of story in the first place, but I guess it’s a little too late for that, especially now.

So what, then, is the obligation put forward by such a slavish devotion to external storytelling? Were they wrong to do something different? Were they right to forge ahead with something new for the benefit of freeing players who had never read that book and any other related to it from the web of multi-author canon?

I’d say they made the right move. Let’s talk about Star Wars.

Star Wars and Halo share many a talking point, the most obvious of which is just the sheer amount of additional stories they have stapled to them. Great news for fans who are into it, but terrible news for the actual IP holders. All they do is get in the way when the primary vehicle wants to expand. Disney felt it more than Bungie ever did, but Bungie felt it first: cut away the myriad stories clogging up the canon or you’ll never make anyone happy. Try to appease the superfans and get burned by not touching on every single node of criss-crossing plot webs that is the result of decades of overlapping stories by as many authors, while alienating newcomers by being forced to pay lip service to concepts and characters they’ve never heard of and have no attachment to.

Disney made the right call, and so did Bungie with Reach. What came next in Disney’s case isn’t relevant, and Bungie washed their hands of Halo entirely afterwards.

If your story cannot survive without the propping-up of half a dozen pieces of external media, you have failed to tell a good story. If your answer to questions about this story is to tell the asker to read a book, you have failed to tell a good story. I understand the appeal of that expansion, of being able to have a celebrated setting grow and reach new places, but it shouldn’t come at the expense of the setup. The world has to exist before it can be expanded upon. The story needs to be in place for its offshoots to grow. And that’s what Halo fails at, so totally and repeatedly. Bungie was too excited by the prospect of having an extended universe that they forgot to make a universe to expand upon. As a result, the actual core universe exists smeared across half a dozen mediums and dozens of individual pieces, with no true convergence point someone can present a newcomer with and say, “Start here.”

The Halo games are a patchwork mess of uninspired characters, unexplored concepts, unknown stakes, and uninteresting locales. Because they rely so heavily on their companion media to fill in those blanks, there’s nothing there to entice a first-time player to do it themselves. If a character’s inspiration comes from one book, the exploration of a concept comes from another, the weight of the stakes is told through an animatic, and the otherworldly locales are shown in all their glory only in the pages of a comic book, what is the game even for? If everything you need to know about the Master Chief, the Covenant, the war, and the Halos isn’t in the games, what’s the point of them? What do Halo 1, 2, and 3 actually stand to add to a universe seemingly defined elsewhere?

They become wastes of time. Wastes of potential. Other people - artists and authors working under contract for Bungie, not Bungie themselves - did all the heavy lifting to create these worlds and these characters. Does Bungie even know who their own characters are? Could the original writer for Halo 1 tell me everything the Master Chief has become through the works of a dozen other authors over the course of twenty years?

The books might be good. I wouldn’t know; the games didn’t inspire me to read them.

#words about games #halo #master chief #Arbiter #cortana #Bungie #343

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exhaustedcommonsense · 4 years

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Just A Little Magic

Friday, October 30th – Enter Sandman prompt: sleep with one eye open… themes: dreams/nightmares, magic, psychics, and alternative realities

The existence of aliens was more surprising then it should have been considering they were witches. [AO3]

Taking a breath in, Alex leant forward and breathed out onto the candle wick, grinning as it ignited from his breath. Kyle grinned at him, holding his own lit candle, heedless of the wax dripping down his hand onto his wrist.

“You got your feather?” Alex questioned, holding up a long golden owl feather.

Kyle plucked his out of his pocket and waved it at him, practically bouncing in excitement as they both stepped into the ritual circle. They were both twitching in anticipation of their first big piece of magic; the first time they would need to offer sacrifice in blood.

“I offer blood,” Alex recited steadily, using the tip of the feather to cut a line across his palm. The feather shouldn’t have been sharp enough to cut, but it drew blood as easily as a knife. Unable to hide his wince, he placed the feather over the cut, watching as the golden feather turned red with blood.

Kyle copied his words and actions until they were both holding the red stained feathers in their cut hands. “I offer fire from my breath,” Kyle continued, gripping the feather by the quill and holding it over the flame. The flames flickered from the liquid before catching, the feathers lighting up in both of their hands.

“I offer my coven,” Alex held out the burning feather so that when Kyle copied him the two feathers were crossed.

“Will you offer your spirit?” They spoke together, gasping as the fire extinguished and they were left holding a black feather each. Instinctually, they placed the feather onto their wrists so that the quill was pointing towards the elbow, not even flinching when the feather sunk beneath the skin and the silence was broken by the scream of an owl.

“I think my dad’s onto us,” Kyle rushed out as his dad dropped him and Alex off at the cabin for an unsupervised sleepover.

“Your dad suspects we’re practising magic?” Alex raised an eyebrow doubtfully.

“I heard him talking to someone on the phone about strange occurrences,” he insisted. “And he’s started asking why we want to be up here so often.”

“Well look on the brightside,” Alex smirked. “He’ll assume we’re dating before he thinks we’re witches.”

Kyle pushed him into the doorway, frowning at him. “I’m serious, I think he was talking to your dad.”

Alex’s smile wiped away as he paled. Immediately, Kyle regretted bringing it up; they avoided mentioning Jesse Manes for a reason.

“Time to start plan B then?” Alex offered him a weak smile.

“One jerk jock coming up,” Kyle sighed. “I really hate plan B.”

“You really went all out didn’t you?” Kyle laughed once they’d both managed to sneak out and meet up. He gestured to Alex’s new clothing and accessories. “Were you seriously wearing eye liner at school?”

“Shut up,” Alex rolled his eyes and pushed him, allowing Kyle to see that his nails were also painted black, causing another laugh to break out.

“You’re a walking witch cliché, man,” he chuckled.

“Laugh it up, Valenti, but tonight I get to do the cutting,” he waved a knife mockingly at him.

“When you told me to fight you at prom, I didn’t think you’d use it as an opportunity to get laid,” Kyle raised his eyebrows and stared at Alex until he lifted his head from the symbol he was drawing on the floor.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denied, glancing back down and chalking in another letter.

“Bullshit!” Kyle exclaimed, stepping carefully over the chalk lines to poke him in the side. “You were practically stripping Guerin with your eyes.”

“Nothing happened,” Alex pressed harder with the chalk, sighing when it snapped in his hand.

Kyle picked the chalk up before he could and drew the final letter before placing it back in the cup they kept for all the other broken bits of chalk. “I’d say his loss, but I’m still betting he’s gonna jump you.”

Alex rolled his eyes, nudging him into position. “Concentrate,” he said sternly, ignoring Kyle’s smirk at the light blush Alex was sporting. “You’re lucky me stabbing you would ruin the ritual.”

“There’s always next time,” Kyle shrugged easily, reaching over and swiping a knife across Alex’s hand before he could reply, holding him in place so that his blood fell onto the chalk lines, both of them watching as the blood followed the lines without deviation until the whole symbol was painted over in blood.

“You can’t kill him!” Kyle protested, grabbing the knife before Alex could cut himself.

“Give that back!” Alex jumped up from his position and lunged at him, uncaring of the potential for injury. “You don’t understand!”

“I don’t need to!” Kyle pushed him away. “It’s a fucking full moon tomorrow, Alex! If you do this it’s going to backfire!”

Alex spun away from him, wiping at his eyes as his chest heaved. “He deserves to die.”

“I offer my blood,” Kyle intoned, causing Alex to spin back around with wide eyes. A line of blood dripped from Kyle’s hand to the floor where it soaked into the symbols, feeding the magic as it began to swirl around them.

“Kyle,” Alex chocked out, eyes wide. “You can’t.”

“Will you offer your spirit?” He looked up to the sky and opened his hands wide as everything seemed to still. They both held still as the flapping of wings was heard around them, followed by the screech of an owl. “I ask revenge for my brother-in-magic. I ask retribution for spilled blood.”

The power surged and then stopped; the wind died down and it was just the two of them alone. Kyle checked his hand to see that it had already scarred over; proof that the magic had worked. He would carry the scar until the magic had finished.

“Wasn’t sure I’d see you here,” Kyle commented idly, stepping up behind Alex.

They hadn’t arranged to meet up since he’d been home, so he hadn’t been sure if Alex would follow the obvious feeling of magic to his latest spot or if he’d given up magic while away.

“You cast this?” He gestured towards the protection symbol on the ground, stained into the dirt by a monthly sacrifice of blood. “For me?”

“Didn’t do much good,” Kyle shrugged, avoiding looking at him. “Was meant to stop you getting hurt.”

“Kyle,” Alex stared at him. “I survived an attack that killed nearly everyone else. I always wondered how, but now I’m pretty sure you saved my life.”

Alex reached out and grabbed his hand, flipping it over so that he could see the healed scar across the palm, making a small noise as he grabbed the other hand to see that one too.

“One each,” Kyle commented. “Protection for the son on one hand and a curse for the father on the other.”

“Neither has faded,” Alex let go of his left hand so that he could trace over the scar on his right that had been made for him.

“Guess the magic isn’t done with us yet,” Kyle sighed.

“I offer my blood,” Alex made an identical cut on his hand and held his hand over the stained symbol. “I ask protection for my brother-in-magic.”

“I’m almost disappointed there’s no skeletons,” Kyle commented as they finished packing away the furniture from the hidden room under the cabin. “Do you how much we could have done with a few human bones?”

“You work in a hospital,” Alex reminded him, passing him a box from upstairs so that he wasn’t aggravating his leg carrying boxes back and forth. “If you want a dead body then they can’t be too hard to steal.”

Kyle grimaced at the thought. “I don’t want a body, it’s bad enough dealing with animal bodies.”

“Just the bones,” Alex grinned, climbing down once they’d moved the last box.

“Just the bones,” Kyle confirmed, opening up the first of their boxes. They’d decided having a hidden room was too much of an opportunity to ignore, finally able to set up their own alter and have a permanent place to keep their magic supplies.

“I wish we’d had this place growing up,” Alex emptied out a box of candles, looking around the room for the best place for them. “Hiding stuff in my house was a nightmare.”

Kyle nodded in agreement, remembering all the close calls. “Think they’ll still be able to find us down here?” He tapped his right wrist to signal his meaning.

“I think they can find us wherever we are,” Alex said simply, tracing his own fingers over his wrist, eyes catching on the scar still in place on his palm.

“I guess we’re stealing that body after all,” Alex huffed as they pushed the trolley towards the morgue. “Shall we get an extra while we’re here?”

“We’re not shopping,” Kyle hissed. “I don’t even want to get one body, never mind two!”

“Do you think Max will pay us back once he’s alive again?” Alex wondered out loud, ignoring Kyle’s glare. “We stole a body for him, the least he could do is let us have a few bones if a body is ever reported.”

“How is this my life?” Kyle groaned. “…Though I wouldn’t say no to a rib or two.”

“To reviving the dead,” Kyle pretended to toast using his knife.

“Hopefully,” Alex corrected him. “We’ve not revived anyone yet.”

“Technically you’re not reviving anyone at all,” Kyle wandered closer to watch as Alex drew the necessary symbols onto the floor. “This is so much easier inside.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “You’re performing the surgery, and I’m performing this ritual, I think we can say we’re both playing a role in reviving someone.”

“You just want to be able to say you helped bring someone back from the dead,” Kyle accused playfully. “Get your dark witch points.”

“Do I get a patch?” Alex snarked, sitting back and holding his hand up for the knife.

“Nope, just a temporary scar,” Kyle passed it over and took his seat opposite. “Do you want any of my blood this time?”

Alex shook his head before he could finish the question. “We’re close to a new moon and this is a dark spell, best not risk it.”

They’d discovered in the early days of their magic use that Alex was better suited to the darker side of magic, and Kyle was suited to the lighter side. Similarly, Kyle’s magic worked best and was more powerful around the full moon, whereas Alex drew power around the new moon. They’d had more than a few magical mishaps when trying to include the wrong blood in a ritual that was better suited to only one of them.

They were sure the only reason the retribution ritual hadn’t exploded when Kyle stepped in was because of how close to the full moon it was. Kyle wondered if that was also the reason the magic hadn’t worked yet: he wasn’t made for the darker side of magic like Alex was.

“Should we have told everyone about this whole thing?” Kyle wondered. “I mean, is it bad we haven’t told them, or do you think they’d assume we were trying to make it about us?”

“You think it will be like we’re trying to upstage them?” Alex laughed. “I see your aliens and raise you witches.”

“We’re technically upstaging Maria,” Kyle pointed out.

“She has alien DNA,” Alex waved off that idea. “She’s never had any magic, we would have felt it.”

“You should do a tarot reading for her,” Kyle suggested with a smirk.

Alex rolled his eyes. “You know I’m no good with the cards…I could do a bone reading, but that might freak even her out.”

“Well we have enough small bones for it,” Kyle snorted, looking towards the box where they kept all of the animal bones. “The great thing about owl familiars I suppose.”

“Right,” Alex shook his head fondly. “Anyway, it’s not like our magic is much use outside ritual, we wouldn’t have been able to do anything differently if they knew.”

“Just feels a bit like lying,” Kyle sighed.

“There was a skeleton under your shed?” Kyle laughed. “No wonder you used to sleep better there than in your house.”

“You want to keep laughing or do you want to go steal some bones?” Alex asked easily, holding up his car keys.

“Grave robbing for the second time this year,” Kyle took the keys with a grin. “I think you’re a bad influence.”

“You’re the reason we’re witches!” Alex protested. “You’re the bad influence.”

#riproswell #riprnm #moodboard #my fic #my story #roswell nm #rnm #halloween story #witchy #i am rewriting this #to be completely canon divergent #but it won't be finished in time for halloween #so this version is being posted for now instead #and i'll link the new version later

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roman-catholic-mass-readings · 3 years

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14th August >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Saint Maximilian Kolbe, Priest, Martyr

Saturday, Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time.

Saturday, Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

(Readings for the feria (Saturday))

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Joshua 24:14-29

'The Lord is a holy God, a jealous God'.

After these things Joshua son of Nun, the servant of the Lord, died; he was a hundred and ten years old.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 15(16):1-2,5,7-8,11

R/ You are my inheritance, O Lord.

Preserve me, God, I take refuge in you. I say to the Lord: ‘You are my God.’ O Lord, it is you who are my portion and cup; it is you yourself who are my prize.

R/ You are my inheritance, O Lord.

I will bless the Lord who gives me counsel, who even at night directs my heart. I keep the Lord ever in my sight: since he is at my right hand, I shall stand firm.

R/ You are my inheritance, O Lord.

You will show me the path of life, the fullness of joy in your presence, at your right hand happiness for ever.

R/ You are my inheritance, O Lord.

Gospel Acclamation

cf. Colossians 3:16a,17

Alleluia, alleluia! Let the message of Christ, in all its richness, find a home with you; through him give thanks to God the Father. Alleluia!

Or:

Matthew 11:25

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom to mere children. Alleluia!

Gospel

Matthew 19:13-15

Do not stop the little children coming to me.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

-------------------------------------

Saint Maximilian Kolbe, Priest, Martyr

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Wisdom 3:1-9

The souls of the virtuous are in the hands of God.

The souls of the virtuous are in the hands of God, no torment shall ever touch them. In the eyes of the unwise, they did appear to die, their going looked like a disaster, their leaving us, like annihilation; but they are in peace. If they experienced punishment as men see it, their hope was rich with immortality; slight was their affliction, great will their blessings be. God has put them to the test and proved them worthy to be with him; he has tested them like gold in a furnace, and accepted them as a holocaust. When the time comes for his visitation they will shine out; as sparks run through the stubble, so will they. They shall judge nations, rule over peoples, and the Lord will be their king for ever. They who trust in him will understand the truth, those who are faithful will live with him in love; for grace and mercy await those he has chosen.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 115(116):10-13,16-17

R/ Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of his faithful.

I trusted, even when I said: ‘I am sorely afflicted,’ and when I said in my alarm: ‘No man can be trusted.’

R/ Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of his faithful.

How can I repay the Lord for his goodness to me? The cup of salvation I will raise; I will call on the Lord’s name.

R/ Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of his faithful.

Your servant, Lord, your servant am I; you have loosened my bonds. A thanksgiving sacrifice I make; I will call on the Lord’s name.

R/ Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of his faithful.

Gospel Acclamation

John 12:25

Alleluia, alleluia! Anyone who hates his life in this world will keep it for the eternal life. Alleluia!

Gospel

John 15:12-16

Go out and bear fruit, fruit that will last.

Jesus said to his disciples:

‘This is my commandment: love one another, as I have loved you. A man can have no greater love than to lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends, if you do what I command you. I shall not call you servants any more, because a servant does not know his master’s business; I call you friends, because I have made known to you everything I have learnt from my Father. You did not choose me: no, I chose you; and I commissioned you to go out and to bear fruit, fruit that will last; and then the Father will give you anything you ask him in my name.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

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voiceofghilannain · 4 years

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The Voice of Ghilan’nain: Introduction to my Blog

My beloved subjects: This is my first post on this blog so I will take a moment to introduce myself. My name is Gerasimos (though Jerry is what I usually introduce myself as out of courtesy, as both my name and surname sound like gibberish to most people). I’m a 23-year-old male biology student currently studying in Greece, and an aspiring entrepreneur with quite a long way ahead until I make that dream come true.

Before I introduce you to this blog, I would like to say a few more words about myself. I am a firm believer in education (scientific, technological, and financial) and I do enjoy learning new things, especially if they can be used to solve problems. I am interested in astronomy, biology with emphasis on plant biology, game design, and video game art. I also enjoy walking outdoors, cooking, relaxing at a beach while stargazing, talking about politics and money, teasing the cat (my friend, not the feline pet) and playing video games.

In regards to the latest subject, Bioware’s Mass Effect was the first RPG game I ever played. Though it took me a year to appreciate it due to its lackluster gameplay and limited weapon options, I eventually managed to see it for what it was rather than what I wanted it to be. I played through the trilogy with a dictionary next to me as my English skills were laughable back then. It was through Mass Effect and later Halo that I built my English skills, with the later giving me the opportunity to be part of a great community filled with incredible members such as Haruspis, Covenant Canon, HiddenXperia, LateNightGaming, and Halo Canon. I also had my ride as part of the Halo Archive community, with wonderful discussions and theories throughout the years, and I was fortunate enough to watch the community grow from 40 to over 2000 members and survive several crises until its eventual collapse. During the three or so years that I was part of the Halo Archive (known there as Faber of Will and Might), I got to see video games as far more than just games and develop a passion for delving deep into the lore of video game franchises and their extended media. It is for this reason, that I would like to take a moment and thank every member of the Halo Archive for the incredible conversations and debates we had during that time and particularly Haruspis, whose incredible analyses partially inspired me to start this endeavour (You can visit his blog by clicking here: https://haruspis.blog).

It was during the end of my first year at University that I got into tabletop gaming, but it took several years for me to discover the existence of Dragon Age. Eventually, both the release of disappointing games, like Halo 5: Guardians and Mass Effect Andromeda, and toxic fans caused my interest in these franchises to wane and the Halo Archive to fade. This caused me to search for new franchisees to fall in love with and this is how I got into the world of Dragon Age, starting with Inquisition. THE Dragon Age Setting is currently my favourite fantasy setting and the reason I started making “my own” tabletop RPG for it in order to play Inquisition with my friends. I used the quotation marks in the previous sentence because I started by homebrewing for the Official Tabletop DA RPG with each update and homebrew rule making it more and more distinct from the RPG it derived from and pushing it closer to the feel of the games, with mechanics like Barrier, Guard, Status Effects, Critical Hits, the addition of several dozen warrior, rogue and mage abilities and spells, the removal of the stunt mechanic, the introduction of sustained abilities and many more features.

I have always found Medieval English themed settings and happy worlds boring and dull. I don’t see fiction as escapism from problems but as an opportunity to do things I would normally be unable to do, such as setting foot on alien worlds, standing against the Covenant as they kill billions in their genocidal campaign or simply playing as an elf that throws fireballs at sleeping targets in the midsts of a death cloud and then paralyzing them or scaring them to death by casting Horror. Due to my bias against the classic medieval fantasy setting, Ferelden is the least interesting part of the Dragon Age setting for me. I do enjoy the extravagant gold and blue themes of Orlais, the Necropolis of Nevarra, the villainous city of Kirkwall, the Blighted Anderfels, the decadent Rome/Byzantium inspired Tevinter cities, the war-torn Seheron, the pirate heaven of Estwatch, the exotic Rivain and Par Vollen, the assassin filled Antiva and the mystery of the tainted Black City far more than the mostly bland Ferelden. It is thanks to these locations and their stories that, for me, Thedas trumps any setting with a million races each worth half a page of text or settings made for adventurers that go on a killing spree to get rich within a fixed world that refuses to change.

Thedas is a continent that never stops changing. Old feuds are resolved and new conflicts emerge. Racism, blood magic, squandering nobles, the blight and other horrors make the life of most people in the setting a challenge at best and a nightmare at worst. Within the span of three games, the setting has changed dramatically and the world has moved forward. Thedas is thus very different from what it used to be when Dragon Age Origins released. Being dynamic and reacting to player choice is a very important aspect of the setting, which is both a testament to Bioware’s own talent and the setting’s innate simplicity.

Thedas’ richness doesn’t derive from an army of races or from endless classes and deities, but from its smaller scale, with fewer races and emphasis on the dynamics between their societies and the struggles that various groups, societies, scholars, nations and individuals face. With fewer things in the setting, there is more room for them to be fleshed out and explored in depth. Furthermore, Thedas has a rich history, exposed to players mostly via codex entries written from an in-universe perspective. This allows events to be portrayed differently depending on whose perspective they have been witnessed by, encourages fan discussions and theories, turns new contradicting information into a quest for the truth that often results in revisiting old passages and finding new meanings after certain revelations. Unlike most fictional universes, Dragon Age’s lore takes effort to extract and while this might not be for everyone it has kept the community far more engaged and alive throughout the years.

Thedas is a land full of mysteries filled with danger. The Horror of Hormak, the Black City and the Blights, the Old Gods, Arlathan, the curse of Nahar, the Pyramids of Par Vollen, the Kossith, the ships from beyond the Volca Sea, the Executors, the history of the Dwarves, the Second Sin, the Cekorax and many more are all shrouded by the element of the unknown, which drives the curiosity, fear, dread, nostalgia and most feelings associated with them. It is elements like these that make me want to write about and share with others stories set in this world, whether official or my own.

Thus, after several months of thinking about it, I decided to create my own blog about Dragon Age. The Voice of Ghilan’nain is a blog named after my favourite Elven Goddess, Ghilan’nain, with me acting as an echo of her guiding voice through the world of Thedas. Just like She focused on creation, so will this blog focus on the things that can be, the transformation of what exists and the discussion of content that many people don’t talk about, navigating through the darkest, deepest and most obscure parts of the lore in search of stories, characters, creatures and their potential, expressing it either through my analyses or through attempts at poetry and short story writing. I will also make some posts that serve as feedback for Bioware on issues regarding gameplay mechanics, UI and story and if people are willing I can provide a few builds or ideas for DMs who want to introduce their friends to the world of Thedas through tabletop gaming. With that said, I hope you enjoy reading my future posts and I am looking forward to your feedback, suggestions and comments.

And now the melody begins, calling you to the depths of darkness:

Na melana sah’lin, La mala suledin nadas. Vir’enfenim ghilana Sulevin’an. Ma garas mir renan La ir las mir enansal.

#ghilannain #thedas #thevoiceofghilannain #bioware #dragonage

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matchcow29-blog · 4 years

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<h2 style="clear:both" id="content-section-0"> "Respektlos": Disneys "Mulan"-realfilm Erzürnt Chinesische ... ansehen: Jetzt kaufen! </h2>

Table of Contents FuLL Watch *) Mulan (2020) - Film - Cinema.de: Offline auf Android ansehen - Google Bewertung für Mulan Film (2020) · Trailer · Kritik · Kino.de: Film-Streaming online ansehen HB jetzt live anschauen: Mulan (2020) - Film, Trailer, Kritik - Kino-zeit - Kostenlos HD-Filme herunterladen Starten Sie das Streaming Mulan (2020) - Film, Trailer, Kritik - Kino-zeit - Starten Sie das Streaming auf: HBO GO App Jetzt ansehen - Mulan (2020) - Film, Trailer, Kritik - Kino-zeit

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Starten Sie das Streaming auf: - Mulan (2020)

Realverfilmung des Disney-Zeichentrick-Klassikers Mulan" von 1998 ber ein mutiges Mdchen, das sich als Junge verkleidet, um ihre Heimat zu beschtzen (jumanji: the next level). Die junge Hua Mulan (Liu Yifei) hat berhaupt keine Desire, sich als Frau lediglich um einen Mann zu kmmern, zu heiraten und den Haushalt zu besorgen. Stattdessen trumt sie von der weiten Welt, von Abenteuern und von ihrem eigenen Leben.

Jahrhunderts nach Christus herrschen strenge Regeln fr Frauen und die mutige Mulan kommt andauern mit ihrem Umfeld in Konflikt. Da ergibt sich eine Chance, aus ihrem Heimatdorf zu fliehen und Abenteuer in der Fremde zu erleben. Eines Tages kommt ein Gesandter des Kaisers in Mulans Dorf und ist auf der Suche nach kampffhigen Mnnern, um das Land zu verteidigen.

Mulan - 2020

Hat pass away talentierte Mulan ihre Entscheidung unterschtzt? Der Dienst beim Militr ist hart und gefhrlich vor allem fr ein junges Mdchen. Der lange Trailer zu Mulan" Mit Realverfilmungen wie Das Dschungelbuch" und Aladdin" hat Disney bereits eindrucksvoll bewiesen, dass sich der Erfolg seiner klassischen Zeichentrick-Mrchen nicht nur wiederholen, sondern sogar noch ausbauen lsst - jumanji: the next level.

HD 4K Mulan (2020) - Film, Trailer, Kritik - Kino-zeit ansehen - Filme streamen und ansehen Jetzt online!

Die Vielzahl der Neuverfilmungen im Jahr 2019 kann auch darber hinwegtrsten, dass Mulan" leider nach hinten verschoben wurde. Der deutscher Kinostart war eigentlich fr den 26. Mrz 2020 geplant, aufgrund des Coronavirus entschied male sich, den Termin zu streichen. Ein neuer Start ist fr den angesetzt. Verantwortlich fr pass away Neuverfilmung ist pass away neuseelndische Regisseurin Niki Caro, pass away mit dem mrchenhaften Whale Rider" bereits eine Geschichte inszenierte, pass away der von Mulan" sehr hnlich ist - jumanji the next level trailer.

Caro knnte sich damit als perfekte Wahl fr pass away Neuverfilmung der alten chinesischen Volkssage ber eine junge Frau, die sich als Mann verkleidet, entpuppen. Das Drehbuch zu Mulan" stammt brigens aus der Feder der beiden Newcomer Elizabeth Martin und Lauren Hynek und wurde von den erfahrenen Jurassic World"- Autoren Rick Jaffa und Amanda Silver berarbeitet. jumanji the next level review.

Auerdem wird China dieses Mal nicht von Hunnen bedroht, sondern muss sich gegen die bse und mchtige Hexe Xian Lang (Gong Li) und den Krieger Bori Khan (Jason Scott Lee) zur Wehr setzen. Ein weiterer Unterschied besteht darin, dass der Drache Mushu, der Mulan einst tatkrftig unter pass away Arme griff, wohl durch einen Phoenix ersetzt werden soll, wie erste Marketing-Logos suggerieren.

Jetzt kostenlose Filme herunterladen

Regisseurin Niki Caro hat in einem Interview auerdem erklrt, dass Mulan" komplett ohne Tunes auskommen wird. Stattdessen soll ihre Interpretation des chinesischen Mrchens als mdchenhaftes Martial-Arts-Epos daherkommen. Wie Sean Bailey, Prsident der Disney Studios, hinzufgte, knne die Realverfilmung sogar einen Hauch von Ridley Scott (Alien: Covenant") bekommen (jumanji the next level cast). Schon Das Dschungelbuch" zeigte sich arg sprlich in Bezug auf pass away berhmte Musik.

MULAN Trailer German Deutsch (2020) - YouTube

Mulan - 2020

Die Realverfilmung von Mulan Legende einer Kriegerin von 2009 steht hufig im Schatten der bekannteren Disneyverfilmung von 1998. Das ist eindeutig zu bedauern, denn die Unterschiede zu der Zeichentrickverfilmung heben den Film von Regisseur Jingle Ma hervor. Unter der Fhrung ihres Danyu ziehen die Rouran auf Raubzge im alten China, genau gesagt des Reiches der Wei-Dynastie.

Sein Vater steht jedoch einem ausgewachsenen Krieg und der Vereinigung aller Truppen der Rouran skeptisch gegenber. Seine Tochter (Liu Yuxin) untersttzt ihn und befrwortet friedlichere Lsungen. Im Reich der Wei-Dynastie wei guy nicht um die Unstimmigkeiten in der Fhrung der Rouran und lsst Mnner aus den Kriegerfamilien in die Armee einziehen.

Kostenlose Filme und Fernsehsendungen online ansehen

So reitet auch ein Botschafter in ein kleines Dorf, in welchem Hua Mulan (Zhao Wei) mit ihrem kranken Vater wohnt. Er war einmal ein groer Krieger, doch erzhlt er keine groen Geschichten und verachtet die Romantisierung des Krieges. Trotzdem kommt er seiner Pflicht nach, als der Botschafter berichtet, dass jede Kriegerfamilie einen Mann stellen muss, denn auer Mulan hat er keine weiteren Kinder.

Mulan jedoch, die schon seit ihrer Kindheit Kung-Fu trainiert hat und nie gezgert hat, ihre Freunde zu verteidigen, will dieses Opfer nicht akzeptieren und nimmt in der Nacht die Rstung ihres Vaters, um als Mann verkleidet anstatt ihrem Vater in die Armee einzutreten. Dort bewhrt sich Mulan mit ihren Fhigkeiten von Anfang an und hebt sich direkt durch ihre Kampffhigkeiten von den anderen ab (jumanji the next level trailer).

Gerade der Heap und pass away Schwerpunktsetzung der Filme knnen nicht verschiedener sein. Whrend Mulan von Disney mythologische Aspekte wie einen sprechenden Drachen einbaut, verzichtet "Mulan- Legende einer Kriegerin" auf jegliche mythologische Elemente und bleibt damit auf dem harten Boden der Realitt. Dazu tragen auch die zahlreichen Kampfszenen bei, welche mit dem ntigen Dreck, wenn auch ohne das erwartete Blut (Altersfreigabe ab 12), aufwarten. jumanji the next level review.

Streamen und laden Sie HD-Filme noch heute hier herunter!

Zu dieser Inszenierung gehrt nmlich auch eine charakteristische Musikuntermalung, welche in dieser Verfilmung vollkommen fehlt. Aber es gibt einen Lichtblick: sowohl das Lied am Anfang als auch der Gesang in einer bewegenden Szene gegen Ende des Films ziehen den Zuschauer ins Geschehen hinein. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mulan_(2020_film) wird Zeuge der Entwicklung Mulans, nicht ihrer physischen Fhigkeiten, sondern ihres Pflichtgefhls, ihrer Heimatliebe und ihrer Durchsetzungskraft.

#mulan film 2020 #mulan film 2020 altersfreigabe #mulan film 2020 age rating

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dealnickel16-blog · 4 years

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<h2 style="clear:both" id="content-section-0"> [ANSEHEN] Mulan - Legende Einer Kriegerin Kritik - Autor: Marietrin ...: Wo kann man sich den kostenlosen Streaming-Service ansehen? </h2>

Table of Contents Jetzt schaue ich - Mulan - 2020 - Spielfilm.de HD 4K Mulan (2020) - Film - Cinema.de ansehen - Filme streamen und ansehen Jetzt online! Trailer & Erscheinungsdatum - Respektlos! Erster "Mulan"-trailer Von Disney Erntet Scharfe ...: Download Extraction This Movie - Full HD kostenlos online HD 4K Mulan (2020) - Film, Trailer, Kritik - Kino-zeit ansehen - Filme streamen und ansehen Jetzt online! [[Kostenloser Download]] Kritiken & Kommentare Zu Mulan - Moviepilot.de - Jetzt Filme online streamen und ansehen!

youtube

Starten Sie das Streaming auf: - Mulan (2020)

Realverfilmung des Disney-Zeichentrick-Klassikers Mulan" von 1998 ber ein mutiges Mdchen, das sich als Junge verkleidet, um ihre Heimat zu beschtzen (jumanji the next level review). Pass away junge Hua Mulan (Liu Yifei) hat berhaupt keine Lust, sich als Frau lediglich um einen Mann zu kmmern, zu heiraten und den Haushalt zu besorgen. Stattdessen trumt sie von der weiten Welt, von Abenteuern und von ihrem eigenen Leben.

Jahrhunderts nach Christus herrschen strenge Regeln fr Frauen und die mutige Mulan kommt andauern mit ihrem Umfeld in Konflikt. Da ergibt sich eine Possibility, aus ihrem Heimatdorf zu fliehen und Abenteuer in der Fremde zu erleben. Eines Tages kommt ein Gesandter des Kaisers in Mulans Dorf und ist auf der Suche nach kampffhigen Mnnern, um das Land zu verteidigen.

Mulan Film (2020) · Trailer · Kritik · KINO.de

4K WATCH: Mulan - 2020 - Spielfilm.de

Pass away Vielzahl der Neuverfilmungen im Jahr 2019 kann auch darber hinwegtrsten, dass Mulan" leider nach hinten verschoben wurde. Der deutscher Kinostart war eigentlich fr den 26. Mrz 2020 geplant, aufgrund des Coronavirus entschied man sich, den Termin zu streichen. Ein neuer Start ist fr den angesetzt. Verantwortlich fr die Neuverfilmung ist pass away neuseelndische Regisseurin Niki Caro, die mit dem mrchenhaften Whale Rider" bereits eine Geschichte inszenierte, die der von Mulan" sehr hnlich ist - jumanji the next level trailer.

Caro knnte sich damit als perfekte Wahl fr die Neuverfilmung der alten chinesischen Volkssage ber eine junge Frau, die sich als Mann verkleidet, entpuppen. Das Drehbuch zu Mulan" stammt brigens aus der Feder der beiden Newbie Elizabeth Martin und Lauren Hynek und wurde von den erfahrenen Jurassic World"- Autoren Rick Jaffa und Amanda Silver berarbeitet. jumanji the next level review.

Auerdem wird China dieses Mal nicht von Hunnen bedroht, sondern muss sich gegen pass away bse und mchtige Hexe Xian Lang (Gong Li) und den Krieger Bori Khan (Jason Scott Lee) zur Wehr setzen. Ein weiterer Unterschied besteht darin, dass der Drache Mushu, der Mulan einst tatkrftig unter pass away Arme griff, wohl durch einen Phoenix ersetzt werden soll, wie erste Marketing-Logos suggerieren.

Kostenlose Filme online herunterladen

Regisseurin Niki Caro hat in einem Interview auerdem erklrt, dass Mulan" komplett ohne Songs auskommen wird. Stattdessen soll ihre Interpretation des chinesischen Mrchens als mdchenhaftes Martial-Arts-Epos daherkommen. Wie Sean Bailey, Prsident der Disney Studios, hinzufgte, knne pass away Realverfilmung sogar einen Hauch von Ridley Scott (Alien: Covenant") bekommen (jumanji the next level cast). Schon Das Dschungelbuch" zeigte sich arg sprlich in Bezug auf die berhmte Musik.

Mulan Film (2020) · Trailer · Kritik · KINO.de

Die Realverfilmung von Mulan Legende einer Kriegerin von 2009 steht hufig im Schatten der bekannteren Disneyverfilmung von 1998. Das ist eindeutig zu bedauern, denn pass away Unterschiede zu der Zeichentrickverfilmung heben den Film von Regisseur Jingle Ma hervor. Unter der Fhrung ihres Danyu ziehen die Rouran auf Raubzge im alten China, genau gesagt des Reiches der Wei-Dynastie.

Sein Vater steht jedoch einem ausgewachsenen Krieg und der Vereinigung aller Truppen der Rouran skeptisch gegenber. Seine Tochter (Liu Yuxin) untersttzt ihn und befrwortet friedlichere Lsungen. Im Reich der Wei-Dynastie wei man nicht um pass away Unstimmigkeiten in der Fhrung der Rouran und lsst Mnner aus den Kriegerfamilien in die Armee einziehen.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mulan_(2020_film) :both" id="content-section-3"> Jetzt streamen: Mulan (2020) - Film, Trailer, Kritik - Kino-zeit - Kostenloser Download von Filmen in HD - BEST VALUE

Mulan jedoch, die schon seit ihrer Kindheit Kung-Fu trainiert hat und nie gezgert hat, ihre Freunde zu verteidigen, will dieses Opfer nicht akzeptieren und nimmt in der Nacht pass away Rstung ihres Vaters, um als Mann verkleidet anstatt ihrem Vater in die Armee einzutreten. Dort bewhrt sich Mulan mit ihren Fhigkeiten von Anfang an und hebt sich direkt durch ihre Kampffhigkeiten von den anderen ab (jumanji the next level review).

Gerade der Ton und pass away Schwerpunktsetzung der Filme knnen nicht verschiedener sein. Whrend Mulan von Disney mythologische Aspekte wie einen sprechenden Drachen einbaut, verzichtet "Mulan- Legende einer Kriegerin" auf jegliche mythologische Elemente und bleibt damit auf dem harten Boden der Realitt. Dazu tragen auch pass away zahlreichen Kampfszenen bei, welche mit dem ntigen Dreck, wenn auch ohne das erwartete Blut (Altersfreigabe ab 12), aufwarten. jumanji: the next level.

Anschauen! Mulan (2020) - Film, Trailer, Kritik - Kino-zeit - Film-Streaming ansehen: KOSTENLOS

Zu dieser Inszenierung gehrt nmlich auch eine charakteristische Musikuntermalung, welche in dieser Verfilmung vollkommen fehlt. Aber es gibt einen Lichtblick: sowohl das Lied am Anfang als auch der Gesang in einer bewegenden Szene gegen Ende des Films ziehen den Zuschauer ins Geschehen hinein. Der Zuschauer wird Zeuge der Entwicklung Mulans, nicht ihrer physischen Fhigkeiten, sondern ihres Pflichtgefhls, ihrer Heimatliebe und ihrer Durchsetzungskraft.

#film mulan 2020 #film mulan 2020 altadefinizione #mulan film 2020 altersfreigabe

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spookyspaghettisundae · 4 years

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Saving Face

He awoke in the middle of the night. But not in a gentle way. Not feeling rested. No. His eyes fluttered open. Panic made his heart race. He struggled to understand how much time had passed, how he had gotten here, where he even was. He had not slept for long and something was deeply wrong.

Clarity crashed into his mind: Father Simpson had slept in a guest room of the town’s overseer, Gregory Galway. The memories of visiting Hallowglen to investigate a series of disturbed graves now flooded his mind.

The air—a wintry, deathly cold—clawed into his exposed skin as he jolted up into a sitting position upon the soft bed. He stared into the darkness of this room and it stared back at him. A presence stood in here with him, causing the hairs to stand up on the back of his neck. Two tiny eyes glowed like the eyes of a cat. Judging by the height, they belonged to a child.

But his host had no children.

He scrambled, pushing up against the wall behind him, slipping and sliding on the sheets and blankets and failing to stand up straight on his bed. The priest’s hand pawed at the bedside table to find his host’s gaslight lantern and he knocked it over, catching it at the last second before it could fall to the floor.

When he switched it on and illuminated the room with it, the sphere of light it cast shook so violently that the shadows danced. The glow from the eyes of the creature in there with him vanished, but a raggedy, hairy figure shied away from the light, hiding behind a dresser and peering back at him through a single one of those cat-like eyes.

A grotesque hand of size disproportionate to the child-like figure clutched the side of the dresser. Its fingers ended in filthy black talons. They scratched over the wood, leaving deep marks. A single eye, catching a dull reflection from the light, stared at the priest.

The lantern in Simpson’s hand trembled and the light followed suit.

He breathed at it, “Who are you?”

No answer came from the creature, and he added, “What are you?”

The eye of the creature blinked—sideways—telling Simpson beyond doubt that this was no human being. The child-sized figure shook like a dog shaking off water, and the matted black fur upon its body rippled.

It whispered but the words eluded the priest’s understanding. They sounded like no language he had ever even heard before. Guttural and crude. Ancient.

The creature then hunched over and emitted retching sounds. It hacked, choked, and coughed until something wet and sloppy hit the wooden floorboards in front of it. A wad of slime with chunks lay there, and worms or maggots writhed within the goo. The creature whispered more and rounded the corner of the dresser with a strange grace, standing in the light so the priest could see it in its full unholy glory.

Its arms were far too long for its tiny height, and its short stout legs bent back like those of a horse, though they ended in talons like those of a huge crow. Shaggy fur concealed all skin and whatever face the thing had, a mat of fur hid all features, revealing only a pair of cat-like eyes that stared at him without blinking any more.

Simpson grabbed his silver cross and held it out in front of him, alongside the lantern. The priest hissed at the thing, “In the name of the good God! Stay back!”

Instead of a reply, it just coughed more. Instead of the demonic speech he expected to hear in defiance of his own words, it raised an arm and pointed a filthy talon at him.

Whispers came from its mouth—a small maw lined with tiny sharp teeth—and the incomprehensible words curdled Simpson’s blood. He could not understand a word, but the speech cut all the way down to his bone. His skin writhed and the quivering gob of slime with the maggots on the floor made his stomach churn. The vermin stopped squirming erratically and exploded in size, growing to the size of human fingers before crawling over the floor towards his bed with unnatural speed.

The priest wanted to scream as they slithered up onto the sheets and closed in on him, but his terror squeezed it out, allowing only a hoarse croaking noise to escape his throat. Before he knew it, he frantically swiped and scratched at his own sleeves and skin, desperately trying to get these slimy writhing wriggling things off of him as they slithered all over him, but they eluded his grasp and clung to him like tar.

One entered his mouth and he instinctively bit down on it, causing it to explode into a mass of warm fluid, but the end that he bit off slid down his tongue and continued to writhe, making him choke as it lodged itself inside his throat.

Another slid around his ear and would not come off, no matter how hard he pulled at it or squeezed, nor could he truly catch hold of it because it slipped away between his fingers and wriggled its way right into his ear, sliding so far in that his fingers were too big to grasp at it anymore.

The priest rolled around on the bed in a panic. The light danced, sheets tumbled off the bed as he kicked wildly without target. The world spun around him and he needed to vomit, but his body refused him even that. With the lantern still in one hand, his other waited by his mouth, trembling with dread.

He pictured having to claw these things out of him, imagining how he would bleed all over the place in doing so. And then the writhing and wriggling stopped.

As if the worms were gone. The foul taste of the worm’s fluids on his tongue remained, reminding him that this was real. All too real.

Simpson stared at the creature in his room through eyes wide with terror, and it stared back at him with an eerie, otherworldly calm. The priest broke out into a cold sweat and every limb felt both hot and cold at the same time.

“I am Prince Fainlahset,” said the nightly visitor in a tiny whisper. It sounded like a child yet devoid of any innocence. A melody that carried eons of knowledge but without a trace of surviving compassion. Its accent was strange, like it did not belong in this world nor had it spoken any tongue belonging to man. “This is my land. Your kind violated the covenant, so I will take back what I saved with my princely grace, long ago.”

The priest’s mind reeled. He held out the cross and his hand trembled with the panic that rode him. The sheer terror drowned out the power of his faith and he sensed it held no sway over this creature. This thing was no demon, nothing undead.

It sighed a raspy sound.

Simpson’s lips moved to respond, and he could tell the disconnect between what his lips and tongue tried to form, and what he heard. He spoke in a foreign tongue, the abhorrent sounds he had heard from the creature before without comprehending him, but now he understood every word.

“What covenant? I don’t understand what you’re saying,” the priest said. His chest heaved, his stomach wanted to expel its contents and his head swam. Tears welled up in his eyes.

“This is not your land, but we tolerated you. And when your Gwallag Galway needed our help, we entered the covenant. No foes to defeat or dishonor you, ever. One child, every thirteen years. A simple trade,” said the creature. Its talons clicked and scratched over the floorboards as it took a step towards the priest.

“By the power of the good God, I compel you to—stay back,” Simpson said. But his voice trembled, his spirit faltered. His faith waned in the face of this unnatural presence.

“Your trinket means nothing to me. It will not make up for what I am owed and I do not want it,” said the creature. It stared into his eyes—into his very soul—without mercy.

The temperature in the room dropped below freezing and the silvered cross in Simpson’s hand turned icy cold, colder than winter’s heart itself. The light of his lamp flickered. The cross cracked and exploded into a cloud of dust that made the priest cough, hacking as his throat tried to expel the thing lodged in it—he felt the worm wriggle, as if resisting his body’s urge to eject it.

“All the face I saved your kind,” the creature said, taking another step closer. “All these years, I returned and took what I was owed. But now you refuse me? Thrice?”

“I don’t understand!”

As it stepped closer yet, a faint scent hit Simpson’s nose. Like the dirt and grass of meadow after rain, upturned by the claws of a beast with wet fur; all earthy and wet. Not foul-smelling, but strangely familiar and alien at the same time. A part of it reminded him of the cemetery from the day before, when he covered up the grave of Mariah Kabble.

It whispered to the priest in a fevered pitch, “I helped you save face. And now I take them back. I take all of them back. I take the faces of those who died, and now I take those of the living.”

Simpson shrieked until his scream choked out into a gurgle and ceased altogether.

Gregory Galway, torn from his slumber, hammered at the door to his guest chamber in which the priest had rested that night. When nobody opened the door, he burst into the room.

The lantern’s light still burned, but the lamp stood crooked upon a jumble of sheets. A wad of something slimy and disgusting stood out from a puddle on the floor. Simpson lay sprawled out, an arm and a leg drooped over the disheveled mattress and the others on the cold ground. Face down.

Knowing full well what expected him, he had to see it anyway. The town’s overseer pulled at the priest’s shoulder and turned him over.

Father Simpson’s face was missing. Not disfigured, nor eaten, nor was it torn off. Just gone—smooth skin with no orifices. No eyes, no nose, no mouth. Nothing.

Galway screamed. A murder of crows took flight from the rooftop of his house, cawing and flapping their wings as they flew into the fringe of the forest nearby.

Prince Fainlahset would return.

—Submitted by Wratts

4 notes · View notes