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#at least i think it was st. gregory
monty-glasses-roxy · 3 months
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We lowkey talked about this before but I feel this deserves its own moment. So, Prototype Freddy, the headless guy, right?
What if Cassie and the others get him all fixed into a whole Freddy again (I like the idea that his repaired self mirrors Glamrock Freddy's like earring on the other ear and chest bolt facing the other way,) so he becomes their friends too.
And most of them at least, especially Roxy I think, not only welcome him with open arms but straight up treat him as 'their' Freddy AKA totally replacing Glamrock Freddy-- which only further isolates and excludes him when "choosing Gregory over them" already did that too.
I feel like that'd sting for Glamrock Freddy especially with Chica if they being longtime friends or family for being older mascots is a thing.
Also sting in a different way if Roxy and Prototype Freddy actually end up with a far better affinity than she and Glamrock Freddy ever did.
And to rub more salt, eventually Cassie finds Bonnie as well and they try to fix him as much as possible until it's st least enough for him to come online. Then when it's time to catch up with old friends or meet new ones, they have Prototype Freddy there instead of Glamrock Freddy.
I don't think Cassie would do any of this to purposely target Glamrock Freddy but I kinda feel like Roxy would be bitter enough to. After all he "chose that brat he calls a son Gregory and CONTINUES choosing him over them all despite everything he's done to them, so if that's the bed he chose to make then he's going to have to lie in it."
Oooooo this is fun
Imma start by thinking that if Roxy never liked Freddy before, then she probably wouldn't welcome a repaired Freddy into the group very quickly. That whole dynamic would be pretty interesting though, like Roxy could be getting between him and the others every chance she gets to try and make sure he doesn't hurt them again... It might be appreciated at first, I mean this guy looks almost exactly like him and talks with the same mannerisms as him, it's gotta be a bit difficult seeing him around again. Presuming everyone's fixed up, then yeah I can see Roxy going the over protective route until she's outright told to stop. Roxy's a security node/guard dog with nothing to guard anymore, and several very hurt friends to watch out for, she just fell naturally into this without even noticing :(
But that just makes the turnaround more fun, right? Despite everything, Prototype Freddy is a good guy! He could listen to her, try helping her out with whatever it is she's up to, find it funny when she starts a golf club sword fight with Monty, be nothing but protective of all of them, be so damn respectful of her boundaries she starts to feel bad for yelling at him about it... and gradually, she stops watching him like a hawk, waiting for an excuse to kick his shit in. At some point, these two are hanging out and getting along perfectly well it's crazy to her how similar he is to the old Freddy but so different in every way that matters. They're friends now! She wishes this Freddy was the Freddy they'd had from the very beginning! Things would have been so different with this guy and it pisses her off sometimes!
And oh god yeah it'd sting so fucking bad for the others, especially Chica and Monty that the old Freddy chose Gregory over them. He basically sacrificed them and for what? It's such a betrayal, and since they and Sunny and Moon were all friends with him, I can see at least a few of them forgetting this isn't the same Freddy every now and then. He says something they don't expect and they flinch as the truth hits them all over again... that's gotta hurt. Were they not worth anything to him? How could they do this to them?
That's fun...
But yeeessss bringing Bonnie back in a situation like this (though without the prototype Freddy) is something that I have happen in my Meteors AU and it's gold. How do you handle waking up after maybe a year has passed to discover your almost boyfriend set a rabid child on all your friends and family, then ditched them when they needed him the most? How is he supposed to take that? Denial? A desperate spiral into camera footage and questioning, searching for answers? For any kind of evidence that they all might be mistaken? That this was all just one big misunderstanding? His Freddy wouldn't do that... He wouldn't! He's sure of it!
And this Prototype isn't Freddy! Why is he here?! Did everyone just replace him?! This is some Fazbear Entertainment levels of bullshit!! His Freddy was worth more than that!! How could they do exactly what Fazbear would have done and just swap him out for a new one?! What's wrong with them?!
The pain is so good for this oh my god I love it
I like to think that once the reality of what Freddy did sinks in, Bonnie grows to hate him. It hurts to hate him, but he's so fucking betrayed by what he's done, how can he not hate him? He can't still love him! He can't! (He does) It's not fair!
And Freddy would be devastated by all of this holy shit. Seeing everyone with the Prototype, happier with the Prototype, and feeling like everyone moved on and replaced him. Even Bonnie. Heartbreaking.
And yeah you're so right. Cassie wouldn't have done any of this to target Freddy, but Roxy would have for sure. Maybe the idea that this would upset Freddy if he ever sees it is what convinces her to give Prototype Freddy a chance? A kind of "I'm going to pretend to be your friend on the off chance Freddy sees and feels like shit for it" turning into her genuinely valuing his company kind of thing. Maybe he kinda figured that's what her plan was originally and decided to just go along with it and let her do her thing, being genuinely surprised himself to end up friends with her? Lotta ways you can play that!
I love this Prototype Freddy is neat!!
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cassianus · 2 months
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Of Theology and Theologians: The Science of the Saints and the Fruit and Method of Spiritual Healing
I have always been struck by the patristic understanding of the nature of theology. One of my earlier posts touched upon the necessity of “becoming theology”, stressing the need to assimilate the words and teaching of the scriptures and the fathers so that our very beings express their truth. Here, however, I would like to expand upon this notion and address more directly how the Fathers understood the idea of theology itself. In the glossary of the first volume of the Philokalia we are told that theology “denotes . . .more than the learning about God and religious doctrine acquired through academic study. It signifies active and conscious participation in or perception of the realities of the divine world. . . . To be a theologian in the full sense, therefore, presupposes the attainment of the state of stillness and dispassion, . . . of pure undistracted prayer and so requires gifts bestowed on but extremely few persons.” The present day idea of schools of theology where one pursues a degree abstracted from the absolute necessity of spiritual formation and the active pursuit of the life of holiness would have been completely foreign to the Fathers. The study of the patristic texts and particularly those of the hesychast Fathers of the Philokalia reveals that theology is both a fruit and a method of spiritual healing through which one is brought into communion with God.
To enlarge on what has been said we do well to look to the teaching of the Holy Fathers relating to theology and theologians. Bishop Hierotheos Vlachos in his work “Orthodox Psychotherapy” shows through the Fathers’ writings how theology is first and foremost a therapeutic science - principally a science that cures, that heals, the soul. He writes:
“I think that we should begin with St. Gregory Nazianzen. . . [He] writes that it is not for everyone to theologize, to speak about God, because the subject is not so cheap and low. This work is not for all men but ‘for those who have been examined and are passed masters in the vision of God and who have previously been purified in soul and body, or at the very least are being purified.’ Only those who have passed from praxis to theoria, from purification to illumination, can speak about God. And when is this? ‘It is when we are free from all external defilement or disturbance, and when that which rules within us is not confused with vexations or erring images.’ Therefore the saint advises: ‘For it is necessary to be truly at ease to know God.’
Neilos the Ascetic links theology with prayer . . . : ‘If you are a theologian, you will pray truly. And if you pray truly, you are a theologian.’
St. John Climacus [writes]: ‘Total purity is the foundation for theology.’ ‘When a man’s senses are perfectly united to God, then what God has said is somehow mysteriously clarified. But where there is no union of this kind, then it is extremely difficult to speak about God.’ On the contrary, the man who does not actually know God speaks about Him only in ‘probabilities’. Indeed, according to patristic teaching it is very bad to speak in conjectures about God, because it leads a person to delusion. This saint knows how ‘ the theology of demons’ develops in us. In vainglorious hearts which have not previously been purified by the operation of the Holy Spirit, the unclean demons ‘give us lessons in the interpretation of scripture’. Therefore a slave of passion should not ‘dabble in theology.’
The saints lived a theology ‘written by the Spirit’. We find the same teaching in the works of St. Maximus the Confessor. When a person lives by practical philosophy, which is repentance and cleansing from passions, ‘he advances in moral understanding.’ When he experiences theoria, ‘he advances in spiritual knowledge.’ In the first case he can discriminate between virtues and vices; the second case, theoria, ‘leads the participant to the inner qualities of incorporeal and corporeal things.’
It must be emphasized that a theology that is not the result of purification, that is, of ‘praxis’, is demonic. According to St. Maximus, ‘knowledge without praxis is the demons’ theology.’
In the teaching of St. Gregory Palamas it is those who see God who are properly theologians, and theology is theoria. ‘For there is a knowledge about God and His doctrines, a theoria which we call theology. . . .’ Anyone who without knowledge and experience of matters of faith offers teaching about them ‘according to his own reasonings, trying with words to show the Good that transcends all words, has plainly lost all sense.’ And in his folly ‘he has become an enemy of God.’
Thus, Vlachos tells us, theology is not abstract knowledge or practice, like logic, mathematics, astronomy, or chemistry . . . . A theologian who is not acquainted with the methods of the enemy nor with perfection in Christ is not only unable to struggle against the enemy for his own perfection, but is also in no position to guide or heal others.”
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checkoutmybookshelf · 5 months
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Ok, so I've been thinking about my favorite Bridgertons (admittedly mostly I'm ANTSY for Season 3 news, but we're going to pretend I was doing something productive with that energy), and I have decided to make Book and Show lists of my favorite Bridgerton men and partners.
Disclaimer: I'm a Polin girl. Colin is topping every list and everyone else is competing for silver, so bear that in mind.
Book Bridgertons
Colin Bridgerton. Our boy is a writer and basically the human incarnation of a golden retriever. Best Bridgerton, no questions.
Anthony Bridgerton. Say what you want about the daddy issue, but this man managed to keep things together throughout his dad's death and the antics of seven siblings. As a fellow oldest child, RESPECT.
Gregory Bridgerton. Despite this man being objectively the dumbest of the Bridgerton boys, he's at least a bit of a sweetie.
Benedict Bridgerton. I do not understand why people like Book Benedict. He spends the entire book going "women are stupid." He has a literal bowl of rocks. Dislike.
Show Bridgertons
Colin Bridgerton. I warned y'all. Babyfaced boy who wants to be in love and has a white knight preoccupation? I feel like Angelica Skylar looking at Alexander Hamilton and going "I want to take him far away from this place".
Anthony Bridgerton. The single most relevant recipt: "Do you even know all the ways a woman can be seduced?" Also, despite flaws and arrogance, still a kickass older brother holding the ship together.
Benedict Bridgerton. Show Benedict is a sweetie pie and sensitive and frankly I am here for sensitive artist.
Gregory Bridgerton is ten. He should not be on this list.
Book Partners
Michael Sterling. I would bring the merry rake into the family. This man...yes, Michael, I do want another kiss AND I want you to tell me about when you were wicked.
Gareth St. Clair. Daddy issues aside, Gareth is a decent human with critical thinking skills and a wicked sense of humor. I can get behind this.
Simon Basset. He's...fine? I guess? I'm not super enthusiastic, but I'm also not necissarily kicking him out of bed.
Philip Crane. *yeets into a lake*
Who is at the top of your list of Bridgerton men and male partners? Or heck, your list of Bridgerton ladies and female partners? (I am a Penelope and Francesca girl myself!)
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charmanderxerneas · 9 months
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(going to be tagging this as ruin spoilers but please dont comment any spoilers because we're not actually done with all the game. We've gotten 2/3 endings and are working towards the secret ending where you have to find hidden cameras while also replaying and seeking out the secrets we missed. This is seriously just insane ramblings aimed at no one i just need to get my thoughts out and suggest u scroll past.)
I seriously like. Am struggling to figure out the whole plot of ruin in an analytical story timeline sense. No i do not read or care about fan theories, i interpret the game and the lore by playing it and looking at all the clues myself thank you very much, so my interpretation of the lore is. different from most fans (you have to consider: very autistic, fnaf a Huge special interest for me. So when i analyze lore, i analyze as much as i can, every single secret. And i feel like a lot of people Miss main lore secret plot points. Im not trying to be a contraian, id love for the fans to have good theories. But like 70% of the time they dont. Or theyre dumb lil kids who blindly listens to mat pat)
my interpretation of sb is different from most fans and theories (mostly because I actually take help wanted and ar into account and can like. Use my brain to understand the differences between the vanessas (there are two. The murderer vanny, who we play as in help wanted, is referred to in ar, and is the one in the therapist tapes) and vanessa the nightguard, who's COMPLETELY unrelated and just an innocent nightguard who happens to have the same name and face as vanessa murderer (though it is also possible to me that like. Murderer vanessa chose to try to look more like nightguard vanessa in an attempt to shift the blame of her crimes, but we dont know this for sure.)and i dont think the therapist tapes are two different people because thats STUPID and it obviously is murderer vanessa (people just. Cannot possibly understand that a person being possessed by an entirely different entity might have changes in her prrsonality. Or that a person with anxiety might have something similar to selective mutism or at the VERY least: troubles speaking because of said murderer in her brain)
ANYWAYS THATS A HUGE ASS TANGENT. MY MAIN THOUGHTS AS OF PLAYING RUIN RN (Please dont spoil things for me im not completely done) is that mainly: i dont know who is speaking to us or who mimic is.
There may be two different people communicating with us with the vanni network (as evidenced by helpi changing eye colors and how like. Some of the motives seem conflicting?) Initially i was like "oh its glitchtrap or williams spirit or something." But that doesnt make any sense because glitchtrap gets Trapped and is worked against.
Even tho that was my first thought: i dont think mimic is burntrap, or william, or glitchtrap. But i dont know what it is, because there are no other obvious characters that it could be in mind (tho since its michaels old fnaf 6 restaurant theyre in, and we saw the blob down there, god knows it could be any number of old ass animatronics or spirits)
Another very fuckin obvious thought is: hey where the fuck is vanny. With the whole mask mechanic, the plot revolving around glitchtrap, ect, you THINK we'd see her st least once. And though she has a cameo in the bad ending which is clearly a vision/fantasy/trick, she doesnt actually appear. The INSTANT That we started this game i speculated: is she talking through helpi? The yellow eyes reminded me of an early sb teaser artwork where we see a close up of a vanessas face with striking, yellow eyes, and i was never sure the significance of that... But i dont think its related at all, as mimic seems to be the one speaking when helpi has yellow eyes. Is mimic related to vanny somehow? I wouldnt assume so.
Whats weird about vanny not being there is it makes it seem like shes not carrying out glitchtraps bidding, which is odd. Dont y'all come at me with that "Gregory helped her!" Crap, the burntrap ending is the canon ending so that never happened. It makes sense for her to be against him (shes never really been on her side, shes the RELUCTANT follower. She explicitly does not want to do any of the horrible shit, but shes beinf forved to) but i just. Gahh i cant figure it out
I WILL figure it out just you wait. I will figure out what my interpretation of the lore as so good as soon as I finish the game just you wait
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whats-in-a-sentence · 1 month
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The list also includes a rare mention of a Jewish woman. I quote the misogyny and antisemitism for the benefit of accuracy:
Miss Lawr-e, No 6, Church- St. Annes Soho
The religion of the Jews will not permit them to eat pork, or feast with Christians; how strictly this lady may adhere to particulars in her articles of faith we cannot positively tell; but this we can say for truth, that she has not the least objection to Christian concupiscence, and will open her synagogue of love, even on the Sabbath, either to Jew, Turk or Infidel, if they think proper to call on her as above. This young Israelite renounced her Levitical friends for the sake of a Christian, who gave her inward proofs of a new faith, which were so convincing to her, that she has continued a thorough orthodox convert ever since. She is of a sprightly disposition, has good teeth, dark hair, black eyes, a Roman nose, a fresh colour, of a middle size, and is very wanton in her looks.
"Normal Women: 900 Years of Making History" - Philippa Gregory
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"I have heard non-Orthodox describe their use of the Jesus prayer, but it is possible to hear (almost in tone if not in words) they are not hesychists."
An opinion to ponder.
What does it mean to be a hesychast in the current world, living a modern life, in a modern culture?
Can a suburbanite try to embrace hesychasm while still dealing with a job, family, kids in college?
From Wikipedia -
Metropolitan Kallistos Ware, a scholar of Eastern Orthodox theology, distinguishes five distinct usages of the term "hesychasm": 1. "solitary life", a sense, equivalent to "eremitical life", in which the term is used since the 4th century; 2. "the practice of inner prayer, aiming at union with God on a level beyond images, concepts and language"; 3. "the quest for such union through the Jesus Prayer"; 4. "a particular psychosomatic technique in combination with the Jesus Prayer", use of which technique can be traced back at least to the 13th century; 5. "the theology of St. Gregory Palamas", on which see Palamism.
Now, to be fair, I consider myself a failure in pretty much any metric used by our modern society to define success. I understand that this is a conceit. Some are homeless, while I do have a home. Some have no family, while I have at least a wife who tolerates me, if not children who do so too. I have a few other meager possessions, such as a car to get me to work. Nevertheless, scraping by is not really a measure of success in the modern world.
I have experienced modern "management", and am not impressed. The youngest generations are fighting back and I am supportive of their struggle.
To the specific points - I do not live a solitary life, so point one does not apply.
I have not followed "psychosomatic techniques" unless they were developed unconsciously by me, at least to my knowledge. So point four doesn't apply either.
I have not pursued the works of Gregory Palamas to the point where I understand his thinking at any depth, so point five does not apply to me either.
I would say that point two definitely, and possibly three are a focus in my life - I do want to aim "at union with God on a level beyond images, concepts and language", and it could be said that I, "quest for such union through the Jesus Prayer".
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Recently on the 23rd of December I lost my keys.
In hindsight I think they were stolen.
On the 3rd of January our family car disappeared, and has yet to be recovered. At this point, if found, it will probably be a total loss.
Throughout the whole process, walking the roads looking for my keys, dealing with the police and the insurance company after the car theft - through all this and more, the only things that kept me together were these…
The Jesus prayer - calling on God's mercy kept me from spiraling into waves of anger and depression. And the verse - "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God…" (Romans 8:28)
And especially parts of Matthew 6:25-34
“Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature? “So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? “Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.
All these thoughts gave me hope that there was a larger purpose to my pain. Further thoughts included Job, the taunts of his friends, and Ecclesiastes.
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The point of all this is to meditate upon my usage of the Jesus prayer.
It is all I think of when I am troubled, or realize that my mind is wandering - is it an appropriation, and if so, does it matter?
It is so much a part of my default thinking anymore that I don't know how I could function without it running in the back of my mind whenever I'm not actively thinking of something else. If nothing more, it seems more healthy than anything else I could be meditating on when my mind is idling.
Should I even worry about it? Officially, I am not Orthodox. But I must confess, my idiosyncratic bastardization of Orthodox theology keeps me together and sane.
Maybe the highest praise I can ever eventually attain is to be called an Orthodox Heretic.
Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have mercy upon me, Your sinner.
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madeliefkrans · 1 year
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her portrait
gregory’s completely smitten by janine so it was def time for my first fic from his pov!! i can’t wait for the moment he tells her. 
fandom: abbott elementary (tv series) type: longing, teasing, flirting pairing: janine x gregory pov: gregory’s word count: 1,042 on ao3 as well
summary: not your ordinary lunch hour at abbott elementary for gregory and janine.
her portrait
When Gregory walks into the staff room during lunch, he’s met with an overly enthusiastic Janine. Even more excited than she usually is. He’s reminded of the time she ran circles around him. She could always find a way to lift his mood, even without trying. As a smile breaks out on his face because of her bubbly mood, he catches her eyes across the room.
“Gregory! Take a look at this!” she exclaims, waving her arms so enthusiastically, she almost hits herself in the face. Adorable. She’s bent over a table. Jacob is standing next to her, focused on the contents spread out before him.
He walks over to them. After all, doing something is the easiest thing when she’s the one asking.
“Here, look.” She plucks a sheet of paper from the table and shoves it into his hands.
He eyes the paper. It’s a portrait. Of him.
When his gaze meets Janine’s expectant expression again, she grins: “It’s amazing, right?!”
“Janine, I didn’t know your drawing skills were this evolved.”
She laughs out loud. He doublechecks the portrait. Whose kid drew this? He then looks at the other drawings on the table before him. There’s a few of them there, different teachers with different Picasso faces meet his eye. He doesn’t spot one of Jacob, explaining the intense disappointment in his eyes.
“So, what’s the story here?” he asks her.
“Well,” Janine starts, beaming at the portrait of her. Pink lips. Just like the Marilyn Monroe dress she wore at Halloween. That look deserved a portrait on its own. “Zoe, a kid in my class, made drawings of her favourite teachers. She gave them to me this morning.”
“That’s sweet.”
“I know, right,” she boasts. She’s a bundle of sunshine.
“Wanna hang them up in our classrooms right now?” he proposes.
“Yes! Let’s do that.”
The next moment they’re making their way through the hallway with Janine carrying the portraits close to her chest. They pass Mr. Johnson, who raises his eyebrows knowingly, smiling, as if he knows something they don’t. Gregory’s classroom is first. After shifting around some of the exquisite kid drawings that cover all his walls (Gregory has gotten better at identifying the artworks with help of Janine), they find a place to put his portrait. It’s a great addition.
Next up is her classroom. Janine has a big bulletin board next to the door with a colourful collection of nails and pins that hold up all the posters, drawings, and signs on it. The bottom half is covered completely, the upper half less. Gregory imagines Janine climbing on top of a chair, reaching for some free brown space.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Janine interrupts Gregory’s imagination, “but the reason for putting most of it at the bottom is because of the kids. So they don’t have to crane their neck so much.”
She hands over her portrait to Gregory and reaches for the board to remove some of the pins, shifting posters around. Then she turns around to face him, pointing at the free spot she created. Proud.
“You can nail me here!”
A millisecond later, they’re both thinking the same thing. She freezes in pose for a moment, averting her eyes. Then jerks her hand back. Gregory just stares at her, struggling to process what she just said. The image of Janine climbing on top of a chair is officially erased from his mind. He’s trying to push its substitute away from his consciousness.
“Uh. The drawing of me, I mean,” she sputters, looking at him apologetically with a small smile.
Gregory clears his throat and does what he knows best: regain his composure. Or at least tries to.
“Yeah. Okay,” he replies. “The drawing of you.” Repeating her words to remind himself of the task at hand.
He steps forward to nail the portrait to the board, standing next to her. She’s watching closely. When he’s done, he looks down at her. Are her cheeks pink?
“Perfect,” she smiles, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Both of them hold each other’s gaze. A bit too long. The classroom grows smaller, her eyes bigger. Until she breaks the eye contact and looks at the board again. Gregory does too.
“It’s a great portrait,” he notes. “Looks like you’re Zoe’s muse.”
“You think I’m muse material?”
Gregory’s face automatically breaks out in a smile. He turns to face her, Janine’s smirk doing things to him he’d rather not say out loud. She’s cute.
“Well, you’re a great teacher. Your compassion and clumsiness would make great characteristics of anyone’s muse.”
“Yours as well?”
She holds his gaze. Is she flirting with him? She’s teasing him, but there’s something more. Something that he hasn’t noticed before. He grins at her. She doesn’t know that she should be careful. She doesn’t know what he’s told her when he watches from afar as she explains something to her students, walks to her car in the parking lot, sends out emails from behind her laptop. The moment she opens the door even a little, he will want to open it wide and take in everything she’s got to give him.
The space between them is buzzing. He could reach out and his hand could touch hers or travel up her arm, lock in her curls. He doesn’t. Instead, he answers her expression.
“You could be.”
He almost misses it, but he’s sure that her eyes grow the tiniest bit bigger. Her grin unmistakably grows wider. Maybe she doesn’t need to be careful. Maybe she knows exactly what she’s doing.
“You’ll have to share me with Zoe,” she teases. “We cannot disappoint her, of course.”
“Of course,” Gregory nods, pulling a serious face.
Janine beams up at him. It’s all he needs. Makes him wonder why he’s still trying to hide his feelings for her. Surely, one day, he will be able to put it down. To let his guard down. To tell her everything. Tell her about how her portrait looks in his imagination, right after he closes his eyes each evening. Tell her it’s similar to how she looks right now. Flush on her cheeks. Wide smile. Holding his gaze. It’s all he needs to keep him up at night.
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the-other-art-blog · 1 year
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How do you rank the whole bridgerton series?
This is not fair, I love them all! Truly, I think they are all fantastic stories.
But my favorite one is always going to be Benophie. Even though Benedict makes me so angry (as almost every other male character in the series), Sophie is the greatest character of the series for me. She’s just so amazing and I want her to stay exactly as she is in the books (so help me God if Shonda turns her into a girlboss like they did with Penelope and Eloise). And Benedict is the artist, so, I’m deeply biased.Also, Posy!!!!!!
Honestly everyone else is at the same level.
I loved Daphne and Simon. In the show they were very toxic and non-communicative. In the book, everything is much better. They communicate quite well and he opens up to her in a way the series never showed. Also, Simon reluctantly accepts to marry Daphne to save her reputation, instead of Daphne pushing him as she did in the show.
Kanthony is so amazing! The chapter where Kate learns about her trauma made me cry! I really like them and I wish the show would have followed the story as it was. But there’s still hope that we see her backstory on the show because it happened once they were married.
Polin! I love Penelope, she’s fantastic. Even though she is hopelessly in love with Colin, she still manages herself with such dignity. And I love that they both become writers and live in Blomsbury.
Philoise!!! Philip Crane is another of my favorite characters. I absolutely love their relationship and how he is the only man who takes her seriously and is honest with her. And the twins are just pehnomenal!
Franchael, well, it’s such a bittersweet story. A story about finding love again! Hannah Dodd has one hell of a story ahead. It’s going to be fantastic.
Hyareth is such a fun couple. And the twists! OMG! I need a whole book on Gareth’s parents. Gareth is such a better person than I, cause I would totally called “uncle” to Lord St. Clair if that were in his place.
Grucy might be a second place? I love Lucy. She is my second favorite character. And it’s also a very crowded story with so many twists. Also, Gregory might be the least problematic man in this series. I can’t really think of any point where he did something really bad like every other male character did.
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thevaudevilledemon · 9 months
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Death Battle: Grif & Simmons vs Lister & Rimmer; Who I think would win.
So, the polls are in for Grif and Simmon vs Lister and Rimmer, actually I've pre-written this so until yesterday I did not know who everybody voted for, (Though I had an idea).
With the polls now being in, I wanted to share my own opinions on this battle, because this was genuinely a really fun thing to think about, I'm a huge fan of both Red Dwarf and Red vs Blue, so digging into my memories of both and thinking about their strengths, weaknesses, arsenals, tactics and defenses was a lot of fun, however, in the end one duo had to die, and I think the winners of this battle would be...
Lister and Rimmer
"But Vaudevilledemon!' I hear some of you wanting to say, 'Grif and Simmons have actual military training, military grade weapons and armour, and have accomplished so much more than Lister and Rimmer, two normal ass looking dudes who have mining equipment."
So, let's talk about that, because the reasons I think Lister and Rimmer would win, kind of boil down to similar arguments, but let's take a look at each point separately.
1. Training Grif and Simmons have actual military training, whereas Rimmer's only experience in the military was a re-enactment society and temporarily commanding over wax-droid versions of Einstein, Stan Laurel, Elvis, Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Queen Victoria, Jean-Paul Sartre, Noel Coward, Santa Claus, Pythagoras, Abraham Lincoln, Marilyn Monroe, Pope Gregory, St. Francis of Assisi and the Dalai Lama... Red Dwarf could get weird.
However, it's worth remembering that the entire reason Grif and Simmons were part of the Blood Gulch Simulation was entirely because they sucked. Simmons was too much of a coward and Grif was too anti-authoritarian, so they were picked by Agent Florida, alongside Sarge, to be part of the plan to protect the Alpha A.I. in Blood Gulch, so they're training doesn't really amount to all that much, but training doesn't mean much if you have better weapons, but do Grif and Simmons have better weapons?
2. Weapons Grif and Simmons have standard battle rifles and Magnums, alongside SMGs, and a few other weapons they picked up and have lost, like Grif's Brute Shot and Suppressor, or Simmons Rocket Launcher. However, most, if not all, of these weapons have a limited ammo supply, which they have drained through pretty quickly. "Hey Grif, you remember that one bullet you have left? I just thought of the perfect use for it."
On the other hand, Lister and Rimmer have Bazookoids, mining equipment intended to blow apart rocks, and can fire plasma blasts. These devices do not eat up their power supply as fast, and have a heat seeking mode, useful for finding heat emitting resources, or hitting a spot multiple times. Plus, let's not forget that the Red Dwarf has crates of explosives, it is a ship under the Jupiter Mining Corporation (JMC) after all, and the Boys from the Dwarf have found several pieces of technological advancements over the years, including several forms of teleportation and time travel, a matter destabilizing gun, a triplicator, a DNA resequencer, and a bio-printer.
Even if we gave Grif his confiscated weapons, and Simmons the rocket launcher, Lister and Rimmer do have a slightly better, or at least a more varied, arsenal. But Arsenal doesn't matter if they can't get past their armour, and here is the big sticking point in Lister and Rimmer's favour.
3. Armour So, Grif and Simmons have military grade armour, which is great, and gives them an advantage over Lister, who has no armour. So, it is possible for either Grif or Simmons to get a lucky hit on Lister, and Rimmer is already dead, but a hologram.
Now, Rimmer has three stages of Hologram, soft light, hard light and diamond light. Soft Light is intangible and has no real physical presence outside of the light bee, hard light has more physical properties, plus is virtually indestructible, and Diamond light is (all information coming from Tongue Tied - The Red Dwarf Fandom Site) super-powered, with abilities like Super strength, super-speed, light manipulation and the ability to make anything he touches intangible or solid at will.
So, with his hard light form, Grif and Simmons have a slim chance of taking out Rimmer, and with Diamond Light, they'd have zero chance. Even if we assume that bullets can penetrate hard light and damage Rimmer's Light Bee (Like what happened to Ace Rimmer in Stoke Me a Clipper), the amount of time it would take for him to properly die, would be more than enough time for him to deal a fatal blow to Grif and Simmons, especially since their armour isn't completely durable, like when one sticky grenade to the face almost killed Donut.
Remember, it took a long time for the alternate universe Ace Rimmer to fully die in that episode, so it’s entirely reasonable that our Rimmer would take a similarly long time.
And about all those accomplishments
5. Feats and accomplishments Yeah so, Grif and Simmons have done a lot of massive stuff, like fighting against the Meta, saving a planet from a corporation's attempt to eradicate all its inhabitants, and something to do with Time A.I. and Shisno paradoxes, I dunno, I liked Singularity but the rest of the arc was... meh. Anyway, it is clear Grif and Simmons have some major feats under their belts, it's just that those belts are also wrapped around everyone else.
Grif and Simmons often share their feats with the other Reds and Blues, like Donut, Sarge, Lopez, Caboose, Tucker and let's not forget the real heavy lifters, Carolina and Washington.
Lister and Rimmer are kind of similar in that regard, plenty of great feats, such as defeating the Inqusitor, plugging a white hole by playing pool with planets, destroying a rogue simulant ship and literally giving the universe an existential crisis, yes that happened, but they also share these feats with Cat, Kryten... and that's usually about it.
Let me put it this way, assuming that they are all doing equal lifting, Lister and Rimmer would be doing a quarter of the work while Grif and Simmons would only be doing about a ninth, and that is being really generous with the numbers. We can argue more specific numbers, but it doesn’t matter the specifics when Lister and Rimmer share the work amongst less people.
6. Ways that Grif and Simmons could win However, there are ways that Grif and Simmons could likely take the victory, so let's run through them and counter them.
A) Hacking into Rimmer's light bee and shutting him off - Simmons could potentially do this, but it would mean getting access to a terminal, which has direct access to Rimmer's hologram projection unit, most likely the Hologram Projection Suite, and on a ship the size of a city, the chances of Simmons just happening upon the floor or terminal to shut Rimmer off is low, unless he had a dose of the luck virus, but that's a Red Dwarf thing.
B) Waiting for Rimmer's battery to drain - Once he's out of power he's vulnerable, but we don't know exactly how long Rimmer's battery lasts, or if it can even die while on board the Red Dwarf.
C) Blow up the Red Dwarf - So, the Red Dwarf has been blown up before, the improperly wired Triplicator caused the ship to blow up, however, the Red Dwarf itself has no self-destruct bomb, so the only way for them to blow up the whole ship is to utilize the on board explosives, which is not foolproof as Lister and Rimmer are clever and could hide the explosives, or even plan a trap around them.
So, while I’m not one-hundred percent on Grif and Simmons taking the victory, I can still see them taking a few victories, but I think the Boys from the Dwarf would take more thanks to their craftiness and Arnold’s hologramatic status.
That really is the crux of these arguments, it’s not “Who would win one hundred percent of the time?”, it’s “Who would win most of the times?”. If you run one battle a hundred times, both sides will win at least once. So, I can see why most people voted for Grif & Simmons... even if I’m fairly certain most of them voted because they’re shipping trash (No judgement there), but for my money, I have to pick the crafty, hard to pin and much more clever smeg-heads from space, David Lister and Arnold Rimmer.
However, whether we think Grimmons would win or Listold would win, we can all agree... Venom vs Bane was a terrible match-up, right?
This was fun, I think I’ll do this again sometime.
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 years
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Faith
Chapter Two - Poise and Precision
Warnings - None
Word Count - 2994
Chapter One
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Bridgerton House had always been a home filled with chatter, laughter, and love; it was an environment that Violet and her late husband, Edmund, had always encouraged.
The drawing room had become rather interesting, Benedict sat in the corner of the space sketching whatever came to his mind, occasionally peering upward to snicker at his younger sister who was trying and failing to dance with Gregory, "I do not think she is very good," Little Hyacinth spoke in what Benedict was sure she thought was a whisper, though, it was actually quite the opposite.
"I believe she can hear you."
"I can hear you," Eloise deadpanned rather loudly from across the room.
"Ow! Watch my feet!" Gregory complained as Eloise stepped on his toes for perhaps the millionth time that day.
Eloise was exasperated and threw her hands in the air in complete annoyance, "Might we be done?" Benedict and Hyacinth took pleasure in snickering at their sister in her bewildered state.
"If you are to catch The Queen's eye after this morning's events, then you must be perfection...."
"I believe it was the event that was perfection, mama," Eloise retorted, "The best thing that happened to me today was the return of Lady Marella, it means that all of the attention shall be on her, and not me."
"Shocking that Eloise Bridgerton was not named the season's diamond after all, was it not?" Benedict poked as he sent his sister a look of complete mockery just as a rather unsettled Anthony entered the room.
"Was anyone else aware that dear Colin has apparently decided to add Albania or some such place to his itinerary as he gads about the world?" Anthony's sleeves were slightly rolled up and his hair was tousled, he had clearly been pulling at the strands whilst he agonised at his desk.
Eloise had continued to dance at that point, albeit begrudgingly, "No. But how happy for him that he can simply decide to do that."
Violet rolled her eyes and leaned forward slightly in her seat, looking to her eldest son expectantly, "Joining us for tea, Anthony?"
Lord Bridgerton hummed, "I am afraid I must pass. Too many calls on my funds today. Now that the season has started, I shall need to fill your coffers at the modiste, and oversee the hiring of a few extra staff, and your ring, I shall need it. The field by Ferryhallow - I was thinking we might hold off on leasing them this year due to the hard frost-"
"I beg your pardon?" Violet had leaned evermore forward in her chair, examining her eldest with surprise.
"The frost hardens the soil, saps it of nutrients," Anthony spoke plainly to her.
"That is very well, but you requested my ring?"
"Father's betrothal ring," to Anthony, such a request should not have been questioned so much.
Benedict had placed his sketchbook down upon hearing the words spew from his brothers' mouth, "Did someone catch your eye at the presentation, brother?"
"I bet it was Lady Marella, was it not?" Eloise held a smug grin.
"I thought all of the young ladies looked beautiful."
Anthony sighed, "Not particularly," he posed the words to Eloise before he turned to Hyacinth, "All of the young ladies looked the same. Like young ladies," Anthony shifted his gaze to Violet, "I should simply like to be prepared when the opportunity presents itself."
"The opportunity...."
"I have already compiled an index of the season's eligible misses and have arranged interviews," the words came out and everyone stopped what they were doing in pure shock, interviews?
"Dearest, I shall be more than happy to give you my ring when you find someone with whom you are very much in love. Until then, you shall not receive it," Violet spoke boldly and plainly to her son, clearly not onboard with his latest tirade.
"Very well."
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"What on earth..." Marella's words faded as trawls of staff entered the drawing room where she was sat with her mother and sisters, they each held two large bouquets of flowers and at least thirty staff must have entered the room, placing the flowers on whatever surface they could before leaving just as quickly.
"It seems like your presence did exactly as we had hoped," Sofia looked unsure as she eyed all of the flowers, the presentation had only been that morning, and to have so many flowers delivered within such a short timeframe was certainly one of the highest honours.
"I am starting to think we may have moved a little too boldly, madre," Marella grazed about the room, her fingertips brushing against the velvet petals of every bouquet she could touch, "They are rather beautiful however," there was a faint smile upon her lips as she spoke.
"Well, we must begin to prepare you for the opening ball this evening," Sofia rose from her seat and approached her daughter, pulling at the skirt of her dress and prodding her fingers in her braids.
"It is far too early for that mama," Francesca called out from her place across the room where she sat reading as she always did.
"Agreed, I would propose that we keep Marella here, under lock and key where no man can ever touch her," Lorenzo entered the drawing room and seemingly glided to his sisters' side, glancing about at all of the flowers warily, "Tonight shall certainly be interesting."
Sofia scoffed at her children before turning her attention to Marella, "These flowers mean that you have already stolen the attention of all the men in the ton, if we go about this in the correct manner then you will have them all trailing at your feet come morning."
"I do wish to have a love match, madre," Marella paused as she looked about the room, "I would appreciate the chance at least, a chance to have the love you and father shared."
Sofia felt a lump form in her throat as she allowed herself to think of her late husband for a moment, and she cupped her daughters' face gently, "Of course, my dove."
There was a strange silence, one in which Marella knew everyone in the room was thinking of him, "I remember him dreading this," Lorenzo spoke softly and his eyes seem trapped in a distant memory.
"What do you mean?"
Lorenzo pulled himself back to their reality and gave his sister a small yet sad smile, "He dreaded the time when you would have to marry, he hated the thought of anyone taking you away from our family."
"Is that so?"
Sofia hummed in agreement, "Gabriele told me many times that no man from any walk of life would ever be enough for our shining sea, he said that the moment he had to give you away would be one of great sadness."
There was a pause and Marella's eyes glistened with sadness, reminiscing her father had not been something she enjoyed doing, "Well, enough of this. I do not wish to be a babbling mess this evening," she said with a chuckle, one that was mirrored by her family, "I will be in my room," she told them before taking one last glace at the array of flowers in the drawing room and leaving.
"She still blames herself, does she not?" Lorenzo didn't look to his mother, but she knew he was speaking to her as his orbs stayed trained on the door his sister had disappeared through.
"I fear as though she always will."
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Lady Danbury always managed to astound all who walked through her doors, and that night, that ball, was no exception.
The conservatory had been newly built that year, it was crafted from brilliantly clear glass, so clear that you could see every star that stared down at the extravagant affair from their cradle in the sky. Lamps glittered every inch of the building, mountains of exotic flowers caressed the walls, beams and tables; and genteel chatter filled in whatever gap the decor could not. The lights reflected off of every petal, allowing a golden hue to bounce about the room.
Amongst all of the gentle and refined conversation, the Bridgertons entered the first ball of the season, just arriving to the affair themselves, “Stop fussing with your dress,” Anthony ordered under his breath, sending curt smiles to passers-by.
“You look lovely, dear,” Violet looked about, checking if any soul was peering at her daughter in distaste for her strange behaviour.
“I look like a prize calf, trussed up for auction,” Eloise was in clear distress at that point, a thin layer of sweat on her brow as she glanced about the room, praying that no man approached her position.
“Moo...” Benedict teased into her ear, only to gain a harsh swat from their mother who was most unimpressed.
“Even Daphne felt most apprehensive at her first official ball, and look how well her season turned out.”
From the corner of her vision, a young boy approached the clan, making Eloise visibly tense, “Come, sister. The cakes at these occasions are surprisingly good,” the pair linked arms and disappeared into the crowd.
Meanwhile, Anthony looked about and frowned tightly, “It truly is a sparse crop,” he told Violet is disdain.
“I am sure there is someone here who will charm you,” she noted the flocks of eligible women nearby and inwardly smirked to herself, “After all, this is the season the Viscount intends to find a wife,” Violet announced to the room, and sure enough, the simple sentence was enough for the sharks to take the bait.
“You honestly just did that.”
“I believe I did.”
Swarms of mamas and their daughters circled Anthony, their wrists held out with their dance cards dangling for Anthony to scribe his name on to. It was quite overwhelming for him, and all he wanted to do was retreat in a dark corner and be free from the attention.
Anthony did not realise the open doors behind him, not until one of the ladies before him pulled her wrist away whilst gazing upward. The Viscount turned slightly and saw her, at first he thought he had found an angel, but then he realised that angels did not walk amongst men. 
Guided by her brother, the Duke, and her mother, Marella made her way down the steps with her chin raised and shoulders pinned back; so poised that Anthony was sketching her collarbones deep within his mind. As she passed, Marella glanced sideward and locked eyes with the man who was staring at her with parted lips, with perfectly groomed hair, and dark yet hypnotising orbs.
Lorenzo nudged her softly, breaking her gaze from the man on the steps and focusing ahead, “Not him,” his voice was low and hushed as he guided her through the crowd of hungry-eyed men.
“Why not?” Marella attempted to find the man again over the crowd, only to be confronted by a scowling brother and a flute of lemonade.
“Anthony Bridgerton is a rake, dear sister,” Lorenzo sipped from his glass and looked about unapprovingly at all the men who had migrated to their position.
“Anthony...”
“He is a Viscount, Lorenzo. Perhaps he would be the best choice of them all,” Sofia squeezed her daughters’ hand, “My dove, all of these men are desperate for a moment of your attention, let us get that dance card filled, shall we?”
The night moved on rather quickly from that point, Marella’s dance card was filled in a matter of minutes by men of her choice, though she was not allowed to decline any offer. Anthony seemingly did not leave the dancefloor, and Eloise had sunk into some dark corner of the room.
“There you are!” Eloise exclaimed once she had finally found her best friend, Penelope Featherington, who was startled by her friends’ sudden appearance, “Oh, Pen. I am so glad to see you. Mama is already being insufferable,” her voice was tense, and Penelope felt sorry for her friend, it was clear that Eloise was not ready for that side of society, and she had been thrusted into it with no choice.
“At least she did not see fit to dress you as a sunflower. I declare a bee keeps mistaking me for the real thing,” Penelope attempted to lighten to mood slightly, though it didn’t seem to work.
“I think the yellow suits you well, My Lady,” an angelic voice found them, and they both turned to find Marella stood there looking as beautiful as ever, “Penelope, is it?”
“Yes, Lady Orsini,” Penelope bowed her head slightly, “What are you doing here of all places? Surely there are rows of men waiting for the mere opportunity to dance with you?”
“Please, call me Marella,” her smile was warm and kind, “I suppose I needed a minute, the men in this city are rather demanding.”
“I concur, Lady Marella,” Eloise glided into the conversation and stole Marella’s attention.
“I am glad that someone does, Miss Eloise.”
“You look beautiful this evening, Lady Marella. That dress compliments you wonderfully,” Penelope told her, she had noticed the dress before all else when she had entered the room. The garment was tight at the bodice and composed of pale pink silk with white lace that flowed from the bodice to the waist, and then continued down the skirt like a waterfall; the sleeves were tight against her skin and gloves reached up to her elbow.
“Thank you, it is Italian lace, I have many more that are much more impressive that this one.”
“We shall look forward to seeing them.”
Marella hummed as she looked back out to the dancefloor, realising her moment of respite had come to an end, “Thank you for the conversation, it was a pleasant and welcomed change.”
As the Orsini walked away, Eloise couldn’t help but watch her as she did, noting that she seemed to float everywhere she went, “I do not know if beauty like that is a blessing or a curse.” 
“I presume both,” Penelope muttered as she too watched Marella, and the eyes of the room as it followed her movements like an owl peering down at its prey in the dead of night.
The orchestra swung themselves into something more upbeat which Marella was quite pleased about, if she was being honest, which she always was, she had quite simply had enough for one evening, “I do believe it is my honour to offer you my arm this dance, My Lady,” a deep voice sounded beside her, and she turned her head slightly to the left to get a better look at the owner.
Marquess Evans was by no means a bad looking man, he was actually quite pleasant, with dark features and well-tamed facial hair, and eyes the shade of the sky on a summer morning; his voice was also smooth like honey, and he stood straight with a soft glint in his eye, “You would be correct, Lord Evans. Thank you,” she linked her arm with his own and allowed him to pull her onto the floor just before the melody began and the pair moved in a synchronised manner.
“You are the most graceful partner I have had the pleasure of dancing with this evening, Lady Marella,” he drew her closer to him and looked down on her with a look she couldn’t quite decipher.
“Does that imply that I’m the most graceful of the best or the worst, I wonder,” Marella twirled under his arm and felt him behind her as they circled the dancefloor like every other pair, much to the enjoyment of the eager ton.
“I will let you decide.”
“There is no joy in that,” she felt his hand on her waist, and she noted how large it was as it rested on the curve.
The comment drew a chuckle from his lips, the air scraping across the nape of her neck which sent a somewhat delightful shiver down her spine, “If I gave you all of the answers you seek then we would have nothing to converse about come tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? I think you are rather presumptuous, Lord Evans. Who has allowed you to believe that you shall utter a single word to me tomorrow?”
“I have,” he told her as he turned her to face him, his hand steady on her waist whilst the other guided her own in the direction he desired, “I like my chances, Lady Marella.”
“You flatter me, My Lord.”
“Then allow me to promenade by your side tomorrow, I do not find affairs like this one to be the best way to get to know a person.”
The melody slowed slightly, signalling that their time was nearly over, “Find me and I will consider your proposal,” they stepped away from one another and she dropped in a low curtsey as he bowed.
“I will look forward to it.”
The floor dispersed, some couples stuck together like glue whilst others glanced at one another from afar, much like Marella and Lord Evans; he sipped from his flute with eyes trained on her, and she had her head craned to the left, her collarbone flexed in perfect view whilst her mother droned on about the lovely event that Lady Danbury had put together.
“Tell me you are done with this, I beg,” Lorenzo appeared, “I do not know how much longer I can stand all of these men gazing at you with such desire.”
Marella hummed and shifted her line of sight to her brother who was fidgeting with discomfort, “We may leave, Lorenzo. I do feel as though I have had enough for one evening.”
“And it would not be the worst thing to leave them wanting more,” Sofia spoke softly, sending wide smiles to all those who passed, “Take your brothers arm and let us be done with this.”
“Please, before another man advances on me-”
“Take my arm right now.”
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Hello my loves,
Here’s chapter two! I hope you like it!
Let me know what you think, my inbox is open for all feedback ♥️
Yours,
Ottie
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byneddiedingo · 1 year
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Neil Hamilton and Constance Bennett in What Price Hollywood? (George Cukor, 1932)
Cast: Constance Bennett, Lowell Sherman, Neil Hamilton, Gregory Ratoff, Brooks Benedict, Louise Beavers, Eddie Anderson. Screenplay: Jane Murfin, Ben Markson, Gene Fowler, Rowland Brown, based on a story by Adela Rogers St. John. Cinematography: Charles Rosher. Art direction: Carroll Clark. Film editing: Del Andrews, Jack Kitchin. Music: Max Steiner. 
Bradley Cooper's 2018 film A Star Is Born is often called a remake of the films by that title starring Fredric March and Janet Gaynor in 1937, James Mason and Judy Garland in 1954, and Kris Kristofferson and Barbra Streisand in 1976. But all four of them can trace their origin to What Price Hollywood?, produced by David O. Selznick and directed by George Cukor in 1932. The name is different but the plot's the same: A successful man in the entertainment business discovers a young woman whom he helps become a star, but as her career ascends, his personal problems send him into a tailspin. if there's any doubt about the link with What Price Hollywood? and at least the first A Star Is Born, both were produced by Selznick. RKO, which released What Price Hollywood?, threatened to sue Selznick over the similarities, but decided against it. Selznick also asked Cukor to direct the 1937 film, but Cukor declined, so William A. Wellman took it on. But then Cukor went on to direct the 1954 Star Is Born. I don't think there's any direct connection between What Price Hollywood? and the 1976 version, produced by Streisand and Jon Peters and directed by Frank Pierson, but the lineage by then was obvious. The idea for the original film is a natural in a Hollywood that had become increasingly conscious of its own myth, and many real-life rising-star-falling-mentor analogs can be found in the history of the industry. Selznick commissioned Adela Rogers St. Johns, a former reporter for Photoplay and the Hearst newspapers, to write the story for the film, and various other hands turned it into a screenplay, though St. Johns and Jane Murfin claimed most of the credit when they were nominated for an Oscar for best original story. The film begins with a touch of screwball comedy when Max Carey (Lowell Sherman), an alcoholic director, encounters Mary Evans (Constance Bennett), a waitress at the Brown Derby looking for her chance to break into the movies. After some funny scenes involving Max's drunkenness and Mary's initial ineptness as an actress, the movie unfortunately begins to get serious. Though it's clear Mary really loves Max, when she becomes a big star she marries a society polo player, Lonny Borden (Neil Hamilton), after a somewhat cutesy courtship. But Borden is unhappy being "Mr. Mary Evans," and eventually storms out, though she's pregnant. Meanwhile, Max's decline continues, and after Mary rescues him from the drunk tank and promises to rehabilitate him, he shoots himself, thereby embroiling her in a headline-making scandal. But then Borden returns to apologize and all is well again. What keeps the film alive despite its clichés are the performances. Bennett is quite charming, and Sherman clearly models Max on John Barrymore, whom he knew well: He was married to Helene Costello, whose sister, Dolores, was Barrymore's third wife. The supporting cast includes Gregory Ratoff as the producer of Mary's films, Louise Beavers as (of course) her maid, and Eddie Anderson as Max's chauffeur -- five years before he became famous as Jack Benny's chauffeur, Rochester, on radio.  
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primroseprime2019 · 7 months
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Happy STS! But oh no! One of your characters has been stabbed! What chaos does this bring about? Who's been stabbed, who did the stabbing, who yanks the sword out without thinking, etc.? ♥️
This has been going on in my head for at least two days. Since this is from a chapter in Transcendants: Skyfall, I might as well reveal it in story mode:
Miguel held Matthew close to him and he flinched as Paige suddenly got in front of the two but the Evaran Transcendant realized that she was standing between them and Manuel.
Manuel narrowed his eyes, “move, Paige.”
Paige narrowed her own eyes, “I’m not letting you hurt them, Manuel. Matthew’s no longer cursed.”
Manuel slightly bared his teeth, “he still hurt innocent people!”
Matthew gripped Miguel’s shirt. Hobie narrowed his eyes and he looked at Jemma who was frowning deeply. Gregory narrowed his eyes too.
Paige gave a low growl, her eyes narrowing. Manuel snarled before he raised his claws.
“Paige!” Natalia exclaimed, her eyes widening. “Manuel!” Preston shouted. But before anyone could move, the sound of flesh squelching pierced the air.
Paige glared up at Manuel, her eyes glowing golden. Blood ran down her arm as the Spinerius Transcendant’s claws dug into her arm. Her left hand was wrapped around his neck.
Montana raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk on her face. Miguel widened his eyes at the two.
A low growl rose in Manuel’s chest.
“Like I said… you are not touching him,” Paige growled, crystals slowly forming around her feet.
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cassianus · 1 year
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Of Theology and Theologians: The Science of the Saints and the Fruit and Method of Spiritual Healing
I have always been struck by the patristic understanding of the nature of theology. One of my earlier posts touched upon the necessity of “becoming theology”, stressing the need to assimilate the words and teaching of the scriptures and the fathers so that our very beings express their truth. Here, however, I would like to expand upon this notion and address more directly how the Fathers understood the idea of theology itself. In the glossary of the first volume of the Philokalia we are told that theology “denotes . . .more than the learning about God and religious doctrine acquired through academic study. It signifies active and conscious participation in or perception of the realities of the divine world. . . . To be a theologian in the full sense, therefore, presupposes the attainment of the state of stillness and dispassion, . . . of pure undistracted prayer and so requires gifts bestowed on but extremely few persons.” The present day idea of schools of theology where one pursues a degree abstracted from the absolute necessity of spiritual formation and the active pursuit of the life of holiness would have been completely foreign to the Fathers. The study of the patristic texts and particularly those of the hesychast Fathers of the Philokalia reveals that theology is both a fruit and a method of spiritual healing through which one is brought into communion with God.
To enlarge on what has been said we do well to look to the teaching of the Holy Fathers relating to theology and theologians. Bishop Hierotheos Vlachos in his work “Orthodox Psychotherapy” shows through the Fathers’ writings how theology is first and foremost a therapeutic science - principally a science that cures, that heals, the soul. He writes:
“I think that we should begin with St. Gregory Nazianzen. . . [He] writes that it is not for everyone to theologize, to speak about God, because the subject is not so cheap and low. This work is not for all men but ‘for those who have been examined and are passed masters in the vision of God and who have previously been purified in soul and body, or at the very least are being purified.’ Only those who have passed from praxis to theoria, from purification to illumination, can speak about God. And when is this? ‘It is when we are free from all external defilement or disturbance, and when that which rules within us is not confused with vexations or erring images.’ Therefore the saint advises: ‘For it is necessary to be truly at ease to know God.’
Neilos the Ascetic links theology with prayer . . . : ‘If you are a theologian, you will pray truly. And if you pray truly, you are a theologian.’
St. John Climacus [writes]: ‘Total purity is the foundation for theology.’ ‘When a man’s senses are perfectly united to God, then what God has said is somehow mysteriously clarified. But where there is no union of this kind, then it is extremely difficult to speak about God.’ On the contrary, the man who does not actually know God speaks about Him only in ‘probabilities’. Indeed, according to patristic teaching it is very bad to speak in conjectures about God, because it leads a person to delusion. This saint knows how ‘ the theology of demons’ develops in us. In vainglorious hearts which have not previously been purified by the operation of the Holy Spirit, the unclean demons ‘give us lessons in the interpretation of scripture’. Therefore a slave of passion should not ‘dabble in theology.’
The saints lived a theology ‘written by the Spirit’. We find the same teaching in the works of St. Maximus the Confessor. When a person lives by practical philosophy, which is repentance and cleansing from passions, ‘he advances in moral understanding.’ When he experiences theoria, ‘he advances in spiritual knowledge.’ In the first case he can discriminate between virtues and vices; the second case, theoria, ‘leads the participant to the inner qualities of incorporeal and corporeal things.’
It must be emphasized that a theology that is not the result of purification, that is, of ‘praxis’, is demonic. According to St. Maximus, ‘knowledge without praxis is the demons’ theology.’
In the teaching of St. Gregory Palamas it is those who see God who are properly theologians, and theology is theoria. ‘For there is a knowledge about God and His doctrines, a theoria which we call theology. . . .’ Anyone who without knowledge and experience of matters of faith offers teaching about them ‘according to his own reasonings, trying with words to show the Good that transcends all words, has plainly lost all sense.’ And in his folly ‘he has become an enemy of God.’
Thus, Vlachos tells us, theology is not abstract knowledge or practice, like logic, mathematics, astronomy, or chemistry . . . . A theologian who is not acquainted with the methods of the enemy nor with perfection in Christ is not only unable to struggle against the enemy for his own perfection, but is also in no position to guide or heal others.”
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stevhep · 2 years
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Hesychasm and the Seven Sorrows of Mary
From early morning, freeing oneself from everything, it is necessary to keep remembrance of God, by prayer and silence of the heart. (St Gregory of Sinai: Texts on Commandments and Dogmas, 99)
The Encyclopaedia Britannica defines Hesychasm as a “type of monastic life in which practitioners seek divine quietness (Greek hēsychia) through the contemplation of God in uninterrupted prayer.” The practice began about a thousand years ago and has since spread beyond the monasteries into the spiritual lives of many Christians, particularly in the Orthodox tradition. It has, I think, mostly come into the world of Latin Christendom via translations of two texts; the Philokalia, a compilation of writings mostly about prayer by monks who practiced hesychasm, and the anonymous Way of a Pilgrim, a nineteenth century Russian story about a wandering holy man who practices the ‘inner doing’ which the Philokalia recommends.
The chief elements of Hesychasm in its contemporary manifestation are, it appears to me, these- 1) Begin the day with a prolonged period of silence focussing almost entirely on the Jesus Prayer (of which more later) 2) Associating the incoming and outgoing breath with the words of the prayer 3) Moving the prayer down from the head and into the heart (also, of which more later) 4) Continuing to recite the prayer, silently or aloud, for the whole of the rest of the day whatever else one might be doing.
Before moving on it is worth stressing that hesychasm is not intended to be a free-standing, all-sufficient practice. It was developed in the context of monastic communities where in addition to the Jesus Prayer monks would be expected to recite all 150 Psalms at least once a week, attend the Divine Liturgy (synaxis) of the Church on Saturdays and Sundays, offer up the appropriate Orthodox prayers and hymns for the seasons and saints days (akathists, troparia, kontakia-very long liturgical pieces which monks memorised) and be subject to the authority and direction of an abbot or spiritual director. Lay people taking up the practice as well should do so only in the context of the Body of Christ and not as some sort of individualist path to self-enlightenment. Further, the Philokalia authors repeatedly stressed that success comes through the grace of God not through effort or technique. The purpose of the exercise is to prepare us to receive and to respond to such grace not to create it. And if it does not (apparently) come then to patiently persevere nonetheless in faith, hope and love...(click here to read more)
(via Hesychasm and the Seven Sorrows of Mary)
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colleenmurphy · 4 months
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"Please tell me you're kidding. Please tell me you're kidding me, Eddie!"
Running her hands through her long dark hair Colleen repressed her ID's need to do two things; knock Eddie Spina flat out on his stupid ass and scream until she lost all the air in her lungs and so help anyone that tried to revive her. In their twelve years together the subject of children was approached with caution, almost hesitation on her part because she was afraid that Eddie truly didn't want children with her. Perhaps he was embarrassed for a low sperm count? An embarrassing injury in his youth? No. He had said it was all his ex wife's doing and that at the time he hadn't planned on having kids or getting divorced. He hadn't planned on meeting someone like Colleen let alone getting married a second time.
"I thought you'd be happy if I got it reversed...maybe I should have just told you I was sterile."
The fact that he was sitting on their couch with a bag of peas sitting on his crotch half looped on a low dose of Tramadol he was prescribed for the after care bit of the reversal surgery made Colleen partially pity and love him a little more. He had lied, yes. But he had tried to fix whatever he had been talked into and he seemed remorseful, even like he was in more emotional pain than physical.
"You could have but you didn't. You tried...you're the first guy that's loved me enough to try for my benefit. Can I get you another bag of peas?"
A shocked expression painted Eddie's face and morphed into a bewildered smile. She wasn't going to try and scream and curse at him, divorce him and she hadn't even kicked him. That's what Tracy would have done, but Colleen wasn't Tracy. She had shown him again and again.
"Yeah...please."
A small smile bloomed across her face as she wandered into the kitchen and back with a new fresh bag of homegrown English peas in a gallon freezer bag. Sitting down on the overstuffed couch next to him she studied him.
"You know I've had lists of names ready since you asked me out back at the Old Towne."
That tidbit surprised him, back then she had been splitting her time between waiting tables at a crumby little down town diner and Go Go dancing at an even crumbier hole in the wall club called The Cherry Bomb just make enough for nursing school. He was tending the bar there and helping his old man with the florist business and trying to keep Tracy Matsek-Spina happy. They were both burning the candle at both ends. Which was why when they got together after the divorce was finalized it surprised everyone. They hadn't slowed down. He now owned both the diner, the family florist shop, a newer fine dining establishment, and now a construction company all the while Colleen was content to leave dancing behind and focus on a floating department RN for St. Luke's General. He had to hear what she had planned.
"Christopher Michael and Gregory Stephen."
Both very nice dependable stable names for two very strong boys.
"No girls names?"
"In my family we let the father have first crack at baby girl names. Get to thinking because if you're anything like your cousin Niko you're going to have at least four daughters..."
"Shit.."
She was right, like many things. Maybe Helene wouldn't be too upset with having her name added to the list of names for their future daughter?
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sab-cat · 8 months
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This summer, the state libraries in Montana, Missouri and Texas and the local library in Midland, Texas, announced they’re leaving the ALA, with possibly more to come. Right-wing lawmakers in at least nine other states — Arizona, Georgia, Illinois, Louisiana, Mississippi, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, South Dakota and Wyoming — demand similar action....
“When you see state governments kind of replacing that type of control by librarians with greater control by politically motivated, politically ambitious, politically polarized government officials, I think that’s really troubling for the prospects for free access to ideas,” [Washington University in St. Louis law professor Gregory] Magarian said....
In Campbell County [Wyoming], recent library policy changes remove the ALA’s “Library Bill of Rights,” which states: “A person’s right to use a library should not be denied or abridged because of origin, age, background, or views.” The new policy says the library system takes seriously keeping “obscene sexually explicit or graphic materials” out of youth sections and can apply that priority in the routine “weeding” of damaged, unused and out-of-date books....
“People should be running their own libraries based on common sense, community standards and the law,” said Kleinman, the ALA critic and blogger. “And if library directors don’t want to go along with that? Goodbye.” Kleinman last month launched an alternative to the ALA, the World Library Association, which he said will offer new policy guidelines for libraries. “We’re going to return things to commonplace, community standards,” Kleinman said....
So far, state library associations — private, professional organizations that resemble the American Library Association, but on a state level — are sticking with the American Library Association. Wyoming librarians don’t always see eye-to-eye with the ALA but the Wyoming Library Association has no plans to cut ties, President Conrrado Saldivar said. Wyoming librarians are being “constantly critiqued” but they — not the ALA — are the ones who control their collections based on community needs, Saldivar added. “ALA is not telling our library workers, our collection development librarians, you have to have this book in your library collection,” Saldivar said.
Republican Gov. Mark Gordon looks to be on the same page, criticizing as a “media stunt” a recent letter from 13 state lawmakers and Wyoming’s secretary of state asking him to pull the Wyoming State Library from the ALA. “The letter implies that Wyoming citizens — Wyoming parents — are not capable of deciding how best to govern themselves and need the self-appointed morality police to show them the way,” Gordon said in a statement.
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