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#messianic tw
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No, Google. “Cameo magen David historical” is not another way of searching for “messianic appropriation” and I would like to stop seeing Jewish stars with crosses in the middle please.
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gay-jewish-bucky · 1 year
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ah yes, the antisemitic evangelical fundamentalist movement created specifically to trick jews into converting to christianity is totally the best person to answer that question 🙄
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kakashihasibs · 11 months
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I got my testosterone labs done today and had my 1st anti-choice protester interaction which was whatever. Just some old dude i ignored but he had a big wood cross with the flag of Israel on it ????
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thebookbin · 2 years
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Dune
Frank Herbert
Publisher: Ace Genre: sci fi Year: 1965
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So I just finished Dune. I first read it in 5th grade and I’m glad I took the time to reread it but also... not.
A lot of the hot takes about this book revolve around the white savior narrative but this book is a criticism of the white savior narrative. The only problem is that to criticize it, it includes the white savior narrative.
Paul, the main character, is the villain of the story. The interesting thing is that his opponents are also villains: imperialism has rendered the universe flawed with no obvious “good guy.”
Paul is definitely a white boy power fantasy. He is trained in all manner of fighting and his mother’s magic, but of course he surpasses her and eventually can see all of time: past-present-future. What starts as a boy’s quest to avenge his father becomes a new emperor’s takeover of the universe.
The first half of the novel is unbearably slow. So much time is dedicated to politics and such tiny machinations it comes as a shock when they are betrayed and the House Atreides falls to ruin. It really feels like the stakes are so high because we as the reader were invested in these politics only for them to become useless. But then the book just blasts forward so fast and abandons that attention to detail in order to skip ahead in time all of the sudden Paul is married with a baby. We don’t get to witness his rise of power within the Fremen, which makes sense if you’re looking at this story through the anti-white-savior lens. The story focuses on Paul’s rise to power as an evil dictator, so the politics of the Fremen aren’t really as important, but it’s such a jarring switch of pace.
It also completely escaped me the first time, idk how because it’s not subtle, but the lesser baddie is gay—but not really. The evil Vladimir Harkonnen, who enslaved an entire planet and who is the colonizer supreme has a taste for little boys. This is supposed to highlight his unnaturalness: at one point he tells his men to drug a slave boy and put him in his room because he’s “not interested in wrestling”. That and the fact that he’s fat are supposed to signal to us that he’s evil, and it just really doesn’t sit well. Yes, gays can be evil, but you get the sense that this isn’t that—we’re supposed to be disgusted with the fact that he’s gay. For me it was the fact that they’re just boys, but you just know how the author thinks about queerness.
But on the other hand, it’s strangely progressive. One of the main characters, Lady Jessica, is one of the most powerful characters in the story and has a lot of her own agency, and yet at the same time how Herbert treats women really doesn’t sit well. Lady Jessica is a witch of the Bene Gessirit, who has cool powers and is part of a religious order. Her storyline is awesome. But although she physically fights a few times, again it’s very clear how Herbert views women. There are no female soldiers or just regular women around—even when they are physically capable they are still limited to other roles: mother, wife, priestess. There are just no regular women they way there are men.
Yet the final lines of the book are dedicated to the women: Lady Jessica, although beloved by the Duke, was never married to him and only a concubine. Minor spoiler: [ And when Paul marries someone he doesn’t love at the end of the book, his mother consoles the one he does love: “We who carry the name concubine, history will call us wives.” 
(end spoiler)]
I am fascinated by Dune's portrayal of religion: in that it’s entirely skeptical. In the book the Bene Gessirit are an intergalactic organization that want to bring about a powerful being through complicated breeding and genes. In order to do this, they go to planets and seed religions, and both Paul and Lady Jessica know this. Paul’s position as the Lisan al Gaib is literally a fake religion that the Bene Gessirit planted in their culture thousands of years ago and—even though both Paul and Lady Jessica know this, Paul actually begins to think he is the Lisan al Gaib and Jessica just kind of….lets him.
And Paul is so sure he’s the messiah and his visions are accurate but there’s literally no indication he’s actually seeing the future, he’s just kinda really confident about it.
All in all I enjoyed the macro political machinations and the really cool worldbuilding of Arrakis. But as someone who grew up religious I also think this book is too subtle. Paul is the villain but I guarantee 85% of white men who read this will come away thinking he’s the hero.
I understand what it was trying to do, I just don’t think it did it completely successfully. And while I understand it’s considered a classic and revolutionary in the genre, I’m not interested in reading a straight white man’s take on politics and the universe when there’s so much out there that interests me more.
storygraph | bookshop.org | local houston
★★★ have the confidence of a straight white man stars
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whosplayerthree · 2 years
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Oh boy! Out of the burst of followers I for some reason got after that Jewish related post took off, only TWO were nazis and just ONE was messianic (who were then immediately blocked)! Aw yeah. hashtag-winning-while-jewish 
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isshua · 1 year
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Messianic Aureation
Chapter 7: The Deception of Freedom
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Summary: Separated from her friends and in a completely new environment, Cara must rely on a cast of new characters in order to survive the harsh conditions of Dragonspine. While the hunt continues, she gains a moment to read the mysterious book stolen from the library's restricted section so the secrets of the Creator can be revealed to her.
CONTENT WARNING: This chapter does contain mentions of vomit and the taking of blood using a needle. If these are things that are a TW for you, please read at your own risk! Enjoy the chapter! :)
Chapter 8 is here
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She was not in Monstadt.
That was the first thing Cara realized when she regained consciousness. As her eyes fluttered open and she was met with the sight of gentle snowfall drifting down from an overcast sky, she incoherently registered that she was not where she had previously been. The ice-kissed air stung her cheeks and left them numb and raw. A frigid winter wind was howling like a wolf; it was the only noise she could hear through the eerie quiet that was produced with the presence of snow. It didn’t take her long to realize that she was freezing. Her body was shivering profusely, and she could barely feel her limbs. A drowsy tiredness was tugging demandingly at her mind as it tried to pull her back into the jaws of sleep.
No. She couldn’t lose consciousness again, not in a place like this. Though her thoughts were jumbled and she could barely think straight, some part of her confused brain knew that if she fell asleep in this harsh environment, she would not wake up again. Cara forced her arms and legs to move, and she pushed herself to her feet.
She immediately regretted doing this. A sudden wave of nausea hit her like a truck with so much intensity, she staggered and nearly fell back over into the snow. Her stomach twisted and lurched. A burning sensation seized her throat, and before she knew it, she was bending over and vomiting. The vile stench of sickness filled the previously crisp air.
Cara gasped for breath when her stomach calmed and the horrible involuntary action was over. She wiped her mouth and turned away from the puddle of bile on the ground, disgusted. With clumsy, uncoordinated steps, she collapsed against the trunk of a nearby birch tree that was growing against the ruined remnants of an old stone wall. A teleport waypoint floated in front of her, giving off an inviting warmth that she could feel faintly and wanted oh-so-badly to press up against so she could combat the cold. She didn’t dare go near it, though, for fear that it might send her back into the vortex in which it had spit her out. This nausea from moving and the fact that she had just thrown up were surely products of using the waypoint as a means of travel.
She couldn’t think straight, and could no longer effectively move. All of her strength had been put into taking those few dizzying steps and then vomiting, and now it was all gone. Cara’s shivering was getting worse, and her eyes kept trying to droop shut on their own accord. She was tired, so very, very tired…it wasn’t a good idea, but maybe if she slept for a little while, she would manage to conserve her warmth… 
A new sound joined the wailing wind: the crunching of boots flattening snow. Cara looked to her left and saw a path hugging the side of a mountain that towered over her like a great stone giant. Walking along it was the figure of a human being-at least, she thought it was a human being. She wasn’t sure what was real or a hallucination at this point, being that she knew staying out in the snow for a long time might cause her to begin to see things that weren’t really there. The stranger didn’t look like they were dressed for the harsh conditions in which they were traveling through. The only thing they were wearing that looked relatively warming was a long white coat decorated with black-and-gold lining.
They seemed so familiar, yet Cara couldn’t remember where she had exactly seen them before. She shrank against the birch tree’s trunk and kept as quiet as possible. She still vaguely recalled the reason as to why she was stuck in this frozen wasteland in the first place: Eula and her entourage of knights. This person could be an enemy and might kill her if they caught sight of her face. Somehow, between the time the teleport waypoint had brought her here to when she had woken up, her mask and wig had been thrown off of her head. She could see them now, lying in a snowbank, too far away for her to reach without giving herself away. If she was spotted, nothing would be able to protect her true identity.
Just keep quiet, she thought. Not that hard. The person won’t find you.
Indeed, it seemed like she was in the clear: the mysterious stranger walked obliviously by her, heading for a broken bridge that was supposed to connect the path to its other side beyond the yawning mouth of a wide cliff. She wondered how they expected to get across.
And then, to her absolute horror, her nose started to twitch. The cold was biting at it, and before she could stop herself, Cara sneezed. Loudly.
The person halted in their tracks. They slowly turned in her direction.
Fuck, Cara thought.
They saw her. It was impossible for them not to have. The stranger walked towards her briskly with a sense of urgency in their step. No doubt they thought she was a lost traveler dying in the snow. What would they think when they got closer and recognized the face of Monstadt’s most wanted?
The person stopped about three feet away from her, and Cara found herself making contact with the teal blue eyes of Albedo.
  Both of them were completely still. Cara stared stupidly at him. Albedo stared back.
  “Hello,” he said. 
  Cara couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering. “Hi.”
  His head inclined slightly towards the teleport waypoint, eyes glancing briefly at the mechanism before returning to her. “I didn’t notice any footprints on the path while I was walking. Did you use that teleport waypoint to get here?”
  She couldn’t think of a good enough lie and submitted to telling him the truth. She nodded.
  “I see,” Albedo said. His breath puffed out in front of his face like clouds of white smoke. Dragon’s Breath. “How fascinating. These devices predate the founding of Monstadt by 1,000 years, maybe even longer. The legends say they were created by one of the Nine Choirs, specifically Pahaliah, the Throne.”
  Cara, not knowing in the least bit what he was talking about, made a noise of acknowledgment. Albedo studied her trembling form and seemed to notice her condition for the first time. “Ah, but this is no time for stories, though. You're obviously freezing, and Dragonspine is no place to be taking a nap. Here, let me take you back to my camp. We can get you warmed up there.”
  He moved forward, and a sudden sense of momentary clarity overtook Cara. Albedo was Monstadt’s chief alchemist, and thus a direct contact to the Knights of Favonius. He could be an active member of the hunt; he could be one of the characters who wanted to kill her. There was no way she could trust him, and yet here she was, chilled to the bone and completely at his mercy. This might be the moment when he took out his sword and ended her life.
  Mustering up a tiny amount of strength, she desperately scooted away from him, her breathing frantic and shallow as she stared at him in fear. Albedo paused, his eyes widening in surprise at her reaction, then softened. He slowly knelt down and held his hands up in a harmless gesture so as to not spook her again. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he murmured. “I just want to help. If we don’t stabilize your condition, you will surely suffer from an extreme case of frostbite. You are already experiencing symptoms of hypothermia. Uncontrolled shivering, shallow breaths, limited verbal and motor functions…if we allow this to continue, I have no doubt that you will die.”
  She sniffed pathetically. Albedo extended his hand further towards her, and she was so cold, she couldn’t even flinch. “Will you let me help you?” he asked.
  She knew the alchemist was telling the truth about her state of being. She could feel herself dying as they spoke, and knew that he was her only chance of survival right now. Yet, she wasn’t totally convinced that he didn’t mean her any harm. What was stopping him from taking her back to his camp and torturing her? What if this was all just a ruse so he could bring her to Monstadt City and hand her over to the knights?
  “I can see your doubt,” Albedo said. “Let me put it this way. If I truly wanted you dead, I would have simply ignored you and kept walking after I noticed you. Me talking to you right now should be enough to convince you that I mean you no harm. So, please…trust me.”
  He brought up valid points. Cara certainly didn’t want to die, and at this point, she really had no other option than to trust the man in front of her if she wanted to survive. After a fleeting beat of reluctance, she managed to dip her head in a small nod. Albedo noticed and smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “I promise I will carry you as carefully as possible.”
  He gathered her into his arms, one of his hands supporting the small of her back while the other slipped beneath her knees. He picked her up with a surprising amount of strength: he wasn’t someone she had expected to be physically capable of carrying a grown adult. “You're so cold,” Albedo whispered.
  He was so warm. Cara buried her face into his chest and sighed when she felt his body heat chase away the numbness in her cheeks. Her eyes closed on their own accord when he started to walk, and this time, she didn’t stop them.
  “You can sleep,” Albedo mumbled. “Unconsciousness shouldn’t prove to be fatal anymore.”
  She found herself believing him. Cara wasn’t about to object.
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 “Is she going to wake up soon?”
  “I’m not sure. It would be wise to let her sleep, though. She’s been through a lot.”
  “Who is she?”
  “She’s…someone special. Remember the stories your mother told you? The one about the golden god?”
  “Oh, yeah! Mommy talked a lot about the golden god. What did she call her again? Her Grace?”
  “Yes, that’s correct. Her Grace is the mother of Teyvat, and this girl here may be her.”
  “Wow! Is she really Teyvat’s mommy? That’s so cool! But why was Teyvat’s mommy lost in the snow? Wouldn’t Teyvat try to keep its mommy safe from the cold?”
  “Teyvat abides by its own rules. Perhaps its strength is limited, and it couldn’t come to the rescue of its mother all on its own. Maybe it was by Teyvat’s hand that I came across her in the first place.”
  Cara groaned, and the voices went silent. She sat up slowly and rubbed her head, having trouble registering where exactly she was.
  “You're awake!” the higher-pitched of the two voices cried. Cara blinked open her eyes. She was sitting on a wooden cot with fluffy blankets wrapped tightly around her. Sitting by her side was an eager-eyed young girl with elf-like ears, wearing a cap and red coat. Her eyes sparkled with fascinated excitement.
  “Klee?” Cara croaked.
  Klee gasped. “You know my name! Albedo, did you hear that? Her Grace knows my name!”
  “Indeed she does.” Albedo was tending to a cooking pot not too far away. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Your Grace. How are you feeling?”
  Cara tested her arms and legs. Everything was moving accordingly, and she hadn’t seemed to lose any body parts to frostbite. “Still a little cold,” she mumbled weakly. “My head hurts. Where…where are we?”
  “We’re at my camp in Dragonspine. The place where I found you wasn’t far, so it was no trouble bringing you here. I recovered these two items that were lying near you, as well.” Albedo gestured to a nearby table where the wig and mask Fischl gave her were laid out. “I’m afraid to say that both of them are in quite bad shape, though. Apparently, traveling between teleport waypoints isn’t good for clothing.”
  Cara looked down at her clothes and noticed how damp and tattered they were. She felt guilty when she thought about Uncle Elias, Razor, and Fischl; they had given her these items out of the goodwill of their hearts, and she had ruined them. I really am bad at keeping up with disguises, aren’t I?
  Albedo walked over to her and held out a plate with neatly cut fruits and vegetables laid out upon it, as well as a wooden fork. “Here,” he said. “Eat. It’s infused with flaming essential oil, so it will warm you up.”
  Cara accepted the fork and plate and tentatively took a bite from the food. A sweet, tender taste burst forth like a blooming flower on her taste buds, and she automatically hummed in approval. A welcoming warmth immediately filled her when she swallowed.
  “How do you like it?” Albedo asked.
  “It’s delicious,” she replied. “This has to be one of the tastiest dishes I’ve ever eaten.”
  Albedo smiled. “I’m glad you like it. This dish happens to be my specialty. I wouldn’t say cooking is my strong suit, but when it comes to satisfying you, I seem to be better at it than usual.”
  “Oh, oh, Your Grace!” Klee said eagerly. “You have to try my special dish sometime! I call it Fish-Flavored Toast! We can go fish blasting together to collect the ingredients, and I can show you how to throw a Jumpty Dumpty!”
  Albedo cleared his throat. “Why won’t we let her rest for a little while, Klee? Her Grace has been through quite a lot in order to get here, and we don’t want to overwhelm her. How about you go and fetch Sucrose? She should be just outside the camp. I’m sure she would like to properly meet Her Grace, too.”
  “Okay!” Klee hopped to her feet and adjusted her cap. “I’ll be back! It was so nice to finally meet you, Your Grace! I hope we can become even better friends than we are now!”
  Cara watched her skip away. She took another bite from her food. “I wouldn’t mind going fish blasting with her.”
  Albedo chuckled. “I’d recommend not indulging in those sorts of activities, unless you want to be put into solitary confinement with her by Jean.”
  “I think Jean would rather kill me than simply put me into solitary confinement,” Cara grumbled.
  “Indeed.” Albedo’s smile turned into a troubled frown. “You have no need to fear being discovered by the knights here. Rest assured that I meant what I said when I found you. You don’t have to fear me. I’m on your side.”
  “So, you don’t think I’m the imposter of Teyvat’s creator god?”
  “Well, yes and no. While I don’t believe you are an imposter with ill intentions, I am also not entirely sure you are the original Caratrice, either. The Acting Grand Master and a majority of the knights and their captains have been ordered by the Caratrice sitting on the Crossroads throne to have you captured and killed, and they are all too glad to follow those orders. Monstadt thinks you should be executed simply because of your face. I don’t, because I feel a sense of wholeness when I’m around you. It’s a wholeness I only feel when my status as a Vessel is being put into action, and I have never felt it anywhere else before. You carry the aura of the stars…so, I would like to study you, if you do not mind, to acquire the necessary information that will prove my thesis true.”
  Cara was silent for a moment as she processed his words. “You…want to study me.”
  “Correct.”
  “And I guess that also means you want to experiment on me, too?”
  “Also correct.”
  “Okay.” She laughed deliriously and ran a shaking hand through her tousled hair. Being studied and experimented on by Albedo. I’m living every Genshin player’s dream right now. “Okay, just-just let me ask you a few questions. What about me do you want to study, exactly? Because I’m not so sure I want to be one of your subjects for experimentation.”
  “That is a valid question, and I would be happy to answer,” Albedo replied. “The experiments I wish to conduct won’t harm you in any way. I only wish to see for myself if you are the real Caratrice or not.”
  “Well, my name is Cara,” she told him. “Not Caratrice, just Cara.”
  “Your name and the warmth you radiate are hardly enough evidence to confirm your divinity,” Albedo said. “Though they certainly are evidence, and I will regard them as such. I need further proof, and only then will I know for sure how deeply-rooted the corruption in Teyvat runs, if it exists at all.”
  “Corruption?” Cara echoed. “What do you mean by that?”
  Albedo glanced at the camp’s entrance, then leaned in closer. “Please, don’t repeat this to anyone,” he whispered. “But…I have a theory that not all in Teyvat is as it seems. There is something dark toiling beneath the surface, something that extends far beyond the work of the Abyss Order or any antagonistic mortal force. If you truly are Caratrice, then it will mean that this darkness is real. If you are an imposter…well, it would be bad news for you, but at least I would know I’m stressing over nothing.”
  “I am not a god,” Cara insisted. “I’m just a regular human being stuck in a world that isn’t my own, and I want out. I’m sorry that you think I’m Caratrice, but I don’t know what else to say at this point.”
  “Hm. You’ve convinced yourself that you are nothing special. Judging by the look in your eyes, you’ve said this sort of thing before. Now I am all the more curious to see if you are truly a god.” Albedo sat down beside her. “I can help you find the answers you seek regarding your identity. So, I’ll ask again. May I study you? I promise I won’t do anything that will endanger your life.”
  Cara sighed. “If I say yes, what do you plan on doing to me?”
  “I would like to take a sample of your blood, for starters,” Albedo answered. “Plenty of legends about Caratrice say her blood is made of gold, and I want to see if your blood fits those legends. I would also like to study your fighting skills and see if there are any signs of elemental manipulation that you can manifest without the assistance of a Vision. Since Caratrice is the mother of Teyvat, it would only be logical for her to have full control over the seven elements, no?”
  “I can tell you the answer to that without an experiment,” Cara said. “I can’t control the elements. But…I think I do have a connection to the wind.”
  “The wind?” Albedo inquired with a tilt of his head. “May I ask you to elaborate?”
  “The first time the Knights of Favonius tried to kill me, I only managed to escape because I got a boost of speed. I could feel the wind pressing against my back and legs to make me run faster. It was to the point where the people chasing me thought I was using an Anemo Vision to fly.”
  “I heard about that,” Albedo said. “A few weeks ago, a couple of members of the 4th Company paid me a visit. They questioned me about if I had seen you in Dragonspine, and one of the knights mentioned that he did indeed see you flying. Have there been any other occurrences of this sort of phenomenon?”
  “Yeah, actually. A friend and I sneaked into the restricted section of the Monstadt library to steal a book. While I was looking around, the air seemed to come to life and directed me to a specific one. I never would have found it if it hadn’t guided me.”
  “I see. This is definitely valuable evidence. I would say that the wind is indeed alive, being that it is an extension of Teyvat, which is said to have a free will to act upon in necessary moments. We should find a way to test this connection so we can see just how strong it is. You haven’t been in our world for very long, so it would be natural for your connection to Teyvat to be relatively weak. However, the fact that the wind has been speaking to you and helping you in times of crisis is compelling, and we may find a way to strengthen that connection…hold on. Did you say you sneaked into the library’s restricted section to steal a book? What could you have possibly done that for? I’m surprised Lisa didn’t try to stop you.”
  “Oh, trust me, Lisa didn’t have to. Eula already had that covered.” Cara brought out her backpack and took out the stolen book. “This book will apparently tell me how to get back to my own world.”
  Albedo held out his hand. “May I?” he asked.
  Cara shrugged and gave the book to him. Albedo studied the cover with intense scrutiny and occasionally glanced at Cara’s face. “Your eyes match the color of the dragon’s,” he mumbled. “And your connection to the stars and the sky is so strong…your draconic attributes are already beginning to manifest. Tell me, have you felt any considerable aching near your shoulder blades? Have your teeth grown any sharper? I don’t see any feathers anywhere, but those could appear with due time…”
  “What the hell are you going on about?” Cara asked. “What are you saying?”
  Albedo tapped the book’s cover. “I’m saying that you are-or could be-this dragon. Caratrice is a six-winged wyvern who wields the power to command every single element in Teyvat. From the depictions I have seen of her in a human form, you are an uncanny resemblance.”
  Cara stared at him.
  “Huh?” she said disbelievingly.
  Before Albedo could continue, there was a commotion outside of the camp. Klee came bounding back in with a mousy green-haired girl in tow. “Big brother, Your Grace, I’m back with Sucrose!” she sang. “She’s so excited to meet you! Go on, Sucrose, say hi to the Creator!”
  Sucrose shrank back behind Klee and ducked her head. Her voice was barely audible when she spoke. “U-Um, Klee, I really don’t know how to act around new people.”
  “It’s okay, Sucrose, don’t be scared. Her Grace is super nice! Big brother saved her from freezing in the snow, and she complimented his cooking!” Klee hauled her forward. The bio-alchemist desperately dug her heels into the ground and mumbled excuse after excuse in an attempt to get away, but it was all in vain. For a young child, Klee was incredibly strong, and she easily propped Sucrose in front of Cara’s cot. “Your Grace, you know Sucrose, right? She’s a Vessel too! I’ve seen you travel with her sometimes, so I know you two are friends!”
  Sucrose stuttered and covered her face. “Y-Your Grace, p-please forgive me for intruding upon your holy presence so suddenly. I-I didn’t want to, I-I-”
  “Sucrose,” Cara interrupted. She reached out and grasped the other girl’s wrists to gently pull her hands down. “My name is Cara. Please don’t call me Her Grace. I’m just a regular person, and I’m really happy to meet you.” 
  Sucrose stared at her, her terror morphing into shock. “You're happy to meet… me?”
  “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?” Cara answered. “I’m even happier to see that you don’t want to kill me. I was afraid that if we ever crossed paths, you would try to wipe me off the face of the earth the moment you saw me.”
  “Oh, no, never!” Sucrose shook her head. “I don’t agree at all with what the Acting Grand Master is doing! I-I mean, I really don’t know much about what is happening within the Knights of Favonius exactly…Archons know I would never have the courage to ask Master Jean personally…b-but still, it’s just wrong to hurt someone because of their face! And-and you are the real Creator, so if anything, the knights are the real heretics for hunting you!” She covered her mouth and let out a horrified gasp. Um…p-please don’t tell Master Jean I said that.”
  “Don’t worry, I won’t. I don’t think I’ll be talking to Jean any time soon.”
  “Right. Neither will I.” Sucrose smiled softly, now much more relaxed, then looked at Albedo. “Mr. Albedo, Klee told me that you wanted to see me? Is it, um, is it about Her Grace-I mean, C-Cara here?”
  “Yes.” Albedo nodded. “If Cara is willing, I would like to have a sample of her blood taken.”
  Cara paled. “Do we have to have that done?”
  “No, not if it makes you uncomfortable,” he replied. “But if you are okay with it, I would be very appreciative. It wouldn’t be a large amount, just enough to run it through some tests.”
   Cara hesitated. She knew her blood was golden now, but she had no idea as to exactly why it had become that way. Could her blood possibly have some magical properties? Was there a way she could use it to get back home? Or was it just a dramatic change of color as an attribute of her supposed newfound divinity?
  Albedo seemed to sense her hesitation. “You are allowed to say no. Do not feel pressured to do something you aren’t okay with.”
  “No, no, it’s fine.” She forced the words out of her mouth. “It’ll, um, it’ll be quick, right? You’ll just take one vial?”
  “One vial is all we need,” Albedo answered.
  “Okay. Okay, fine.”
  Sucrose hurried over to a work table, and when she returned to Cara’s side, she was holding a needle attached to a thin tube on one end and a vial on the other, as well as a piece of cloth and another vial filled with a light blue liquid. Her heart started to hammer when the bio-alchemist settled down next to her and held the needle up. “The needle has been prepared for use,” Sucrose explained. “I was planning on using it to extract some blood from a hilichurl, but this is a much more important matter. May I see your arm?”
  Cara didn’t move. Albedo noticed that something wasn’t quite right. “Do you not like the sight of blood?” he asked.
  “No, it’s not that,” she answered. “I just really don’t like needles.”
  “You can hold my hand, if you want,” he offered. He held it out to her; she gladly took it. Albedo’s hand was warm, and it was a welcoming source of comfort as she stared at the needle Sucrose held.
  Sucrose showed her the vial of blue liquid. “This is extract from a Cryo Slime,” she said. “It will numb the area of skin where I will take the blood to limit the pain you will feel, so don’t be alarmed when I apply it to you.”
  Cara couldn’t take her gaze off of the needle. “Right. Got it.”
  “Mommy always tells me that talking is a good way to distract you from things that hurt,” Klee said. “So while Sucrose takes your blood, I’ll tell you about some things I know! Let’s see…oh! Have you ever met Dodoco, Cara?”
  “No, I haven’t,” Cara replied. Sucrose took her left arm and uncapped the filled vial. She poured a small amount of the extract over the inside of her elbow and rubbed it in. A chill settled over the area, and soon, Cara lost all feeling in that specific part of skin.
  “Well, Dodoco is my oldest and bestest friend! Now that I’ve introduced you, don’t forget her name, alright? A lot of people call Dodoco “that silly doll Klee always hangs on her rucksack.” That’s not even true! Dodoco isn’t a doll at all!”
  “I’ll be sure to remember her name, I promise.” Cara’s breath hitched when Sucrose tied the white cloth tightly around her bicep. Albedo soothingly traced the knuckles of her hand with his thumb. She took one glance at the needle approaching the blue of her cephalic vein and turned away, closing her eyes and holding her breath.
  A sharp pain pricked through her skin, but was quickly conquered by the numbing effect of the Cryo slime extract. Cara squeezed Albedo’s hand and focused on her own breathing. She felt Klee place a tiny hand on her knee, another source of reassurance.
  “Just a little more…and, done.” Sucrose removed the needle and quickly untied the cloth from her bicep to retie it around the puncture spot. Cara heard a gasp leave her lips. “Oh my Archons!”
  When Cara opened her eyes and looked at the vial, she saw it was filled with shimmering blood that shone with the brilliance of a block of gold. When Sucrose held it up, it caught in the light of the fire beneath Albedo’s cooking pot and glowed even brighter. It was a perfect match to the color of her scars.
  “So, it is true,” Albedo said. “You do have golden blood. Fascinating. Sucrose, please, could I ask you to test its contents?”
  “Yes, of course. I’ll have the results shortly.” Sucrose stood up and headed back over to the work table, where she started to clean the bloodwork needle and tinker with various pieces of alchemy equipment that Cara didn’t understand.
  “Are you feeling alright?” Albedo asked her. “No dizziness or nausea?”
  “No,” Cara replied. “I feel fine.” She studied the cloth covering her vein. “I’m never going to get used to my blood being that color, though. It’s still shocking.”
  “Dodoco thinks you were very brave!” Klee said. “She says that you were very still and didn’t even squeak when Sucrose took your blood! Both of us say good job!”
  “Yes, you did very well. I would say that this discovery helps prove you are indeed the golden god.” Albedo picked up the book from the library’s restricted section. “While we are waiting for the blood test results, why won’t we read the contents of this book? Since you went through so much trouble to get it, it would be a good idea to look it over. Would you like to do the honors?”
  Cara nodded. Albedo handed her the book, and she had to take a moment to stare at the cover and comprehend what was about to happen next. After all of this time, she was finally going to get some answers. Would this book tell her how to get home? Would it explain how she even got here in the first place? Nerves wracked her, but there was an excitement, too, an excitement at the prospect of finally gaining some ground and making progress as to where she went from here.
  Albedo and Klee were watching with interest, and she knew she couldn’t stall any longer now. Cara shakily flipped open the book’s cover and began to read from the first page.
  “In the beginning, there was the Light, and there was the Abyss. Both existed, but neither mingled, for they were opposites, and enemies eternal. And then the Light roiled and came together, and out of it emerged the Divine Dragon Caratrice in a glory of gold. With a flap of Her six wings and a puff of Her breath, She brought all of Teyvat into being with a single mighty roar. She became the Almother of all living things. The Original One, the Primordial One.” Her throat went dry when she saw the last word of the paragraph. “The…the Genshin.”
  “Very few people call Caratrice the Genshin, anymore,” Albedo said. “It’s an old world term, mostly forgotten.” He peered closely at her features. “You’ve heard the name before?”
  Cara’s eyes remained glued to that single word that seemed so insignificant, yet so incredibly impactful at the same time. “It was a pretty popular word to say back in my own world.”
  “Keep reading, keep reading!” Klee squirmed ardently. “I wanna hear more!”
  Cara forced herself to move on to the next page. “The Genshin lived among Her creations and helped them grow. The first civilizations were formed under Her watchful eye, and all of Teyvat flourished. Caratrice loved Her creations with the adoration of a mother, and gave every form of life Her equal time. However, Her favorites among the many creations were the humans, and all of those close to them. She loved them so much, She bestowed upon a select few of them pieces of her power which would give them the ability to be masters of Teyvat’s seven elements. These chosen ones became the leaders of their people, the envoys of the Genshin. They were called Vessels.”
  “Oh, oh!” Klee raised her hand. “Mommy’s told me this story before, so I know who those people were! They had little marbles like we do, and some of them could control fire like me!”
  “They are called Visions, Klee,” Albedo said. “And yes, they could control the elements, just like us. They were the first Vision bearers.” He nodded to Cara. “Continue.”
  Cara flipped to the third page. “For years, Teyvat was at peace. But peace does not last forever. Light and darkness are pieces of the same whole. While the light throughout Teyvat touched every corner and filled the land with prosperity and good things, the darkness festered. Out of the Abyss came Armageddon, the Destroyer, god of the apocalypse, Caratrice’s twin brother and corrupted counterpart. Armageddon saw all that the Creator had made, saw how the world loved Her, and grew jealous with longing. With a plan to usurp his sister and steal Her power, he spread the tendrils of the Abyss and infiltrated Teyvat’s civilizations. Slowly, he gained a mass of followers, and they joined him within the shadows of his darkness and became twisted monsters. This was the founding of the Abyss Order.” She paused. “Wait, so the Abyss Order is that old?”
  “They’ve been around for quite some time, but didn’t gain true traction in the sabotage of Teyvat’s nations until about 500 years ago,” Albedo said. “To this day, many people refuse to believe that they exist at all.”
   500 years ago. The destruction of Khaenri'ah. This opened a whole new source of questions for Cara. She had already put two-and-two together to realize that this world of Teyvat was not an exact copy of the Teyvat that existed within her computer. Her Traveler, Lumine, didn’t exist here, and therefore neither did Aether, the Abyss Twin. So how did the Abyss Order and the destruction of Khaenri'ah fit into the history of this Teyvat?
   There’s no time to figure it out now. She could ponder over these mysteries later-and maybe gain a few answers from an Abyss Mage if she happened to encounter one throughout her travels. She started to read again.
  “With every new follower Armageddon gained, he grew stronger and stronger. He used his minions as pawns, possessing them with the dark art of the Madness to see through their eyes and speak with their tongues. The red mist of the Madness infected their minds and turned those who were filled with it against the Creator who adored them. When Caratrice discovered this, She was heartbroken and angry, for Armageddon was filling Her children with a hatred that wasn’t their own. With a mission to free those infected with the Madness and to vanquish Her brother once and for all, She chose nine human beings to rise to godhood and fight as Her warriors. They were named the Nine Choirs. And thus, the First War began.
  “The First War lasted for 30 years. Teyvat was in ruins, and life was on the brink of extinction. The Nine Choirs were tired. Humanity was tired, and the world was close to being consumed by the Destroyer’s darkness. So, the Creator, in all of Her compassionate glory, sacrificed Herself to save Teyvat. She gave up Her light to chase back the Madness and died with the promise to return someday to finish off Armageddon once and for all. For this solution was only temporary: Caratrice’s light did not kill Her brother, only wounded him. Beneath the earth in which the Crossroads was built is where Armageddon slumbers. Someday he will awaken, and the god of the apocalypse will rise once again.”
  Klee whimpered. “So sad,” she murmured. “This part of the story is so sad.” But then her eyes filled with a glimmer of hope. “But if you're here, it means you kept your promise, right? You came back, and now you're going to get rid of your bad guy brother once and for all!”
  Cara didn’t know what to say. This was so much to unpack. Not only were the Knights of Favonius hellbent on killing her, but now she had to worry about some great apocalyptic god of destruction coming after her, too? I’d honestly rather fight Eula, Jean, and Lisa all at once than do that. “Klee, I-I don’t think I’m strong enough to take on a bad guy with this much power.”
  “Oh. Well, that’s okay! You aren’t strong now, but you will be! Big brother Albedo can teach you how to use a sword, and then when that evil Destroyer wakes up and sees you, all you’ll have to do is go swoosh, and whoosh, and wa-pow!” Klee swung an imaginary sword wildly through the air. “That big meanie Armigeedon won’t know what hit him!”
  “Oh my stars!” Sucrose suddenly exclaimed. She ran over to Albedo and shoved a piece of marked-up paper into his hands. “Mr. Albedo, look! These-these readings! I’ve never seen something so extraordinary! Her blood!”
  “What about my blood?” Cara asked, both worried and intrigued.
  Sucrose was so excited, she looked like she was about to faint. “Your blood has the regular four main components that are seen in a normal human’s blood: plasma, red blood cells, white blood cells, and platelets. But existing beside those four components are the components of auric chloride and chloroauric acid! These two components are the most common compounds found in gold. How your body can survive with such components flowing through your bloodstream is a mystery…but-but the important thing is that your blood is not just golden in its color! It’s quite literally liquid gold!”
  “Woah! I don’t understand most of what Sucrose just said, but I do know what gold is!” Klee exclaimed. “Liquid gold! That’s so cool!”
  “Sucrose is correct,” Albedo said after reading over the paper. “Your blood indeed does have components that exist within the element of gold. This goes beyond my initial expectations.” He handed the paper back to Sucrose. “Starting tomorrow, please continue studying the sample. See if it holds any other attributes seen with normal samples of gold. Try exposing it to heat or electricity.”
  Sucrose nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Mr. Albedo! I’ll get to it first thing in the morning!”
  Cara’s mind was reeling. “Liquid gold,” she whispered. “It’s impossible.” There was no way her blood should have such components within it. And yet, Sucrose was the bio-alchemist, not her. One would be foolish not to trust in her conclusions. Still, how could she go from having regular human blood in her own world to suddenly developing golden blood here?
  The book might have answers. She started browsing through the pages, searching for any mention of golden blood among its words. While Albedo, Klee, and Sucrose continued to freak out over their discovery, she got lost in the legends of the Creator, learning more about Caratrice than she ever knew before. She saw more drawings of the six-winged wyvern, as well as depictions of nine god-like deities, each represented by a title. Jehoel, the Seraph. Pahaliah, the Throne. Seraphina, the Power. Michael, the Archangel…these must be the names of the Nine Choirs that the creation myth mentioned.
  And then, a sentence on a different page caught her eye. One belonging to another legend. And Cara’s heart stopped.
  There is a false god in Teyvat.
  “Albedo.” She shook his shoulder to gain his attention. “Listen to this. This legend talks about a false god. Could it be about me?”
  “No,” Albedo answered. “I am quite certain now that you are the reincarnation of Caratrice. But it could be about the Caratrice that is currently sitting on your throne. Go ahead, read it.”
  Sucrose and Klee went silent when the words began to flow off of her tongue. “There is a false god in Teyvat, and they have tricked the people of this world. Gods and mortals alike bow before them and swear their undying devotion to a puppet. They cannot see through the trickery of the heretic’s words…and there is a prophecy. One written in the stars and banished from all forms of text by the hand of the false god. It speaks of the Divine Creator rising up and defeating the false god to reclaim her rightful throne and free the people from the Madness with the aid of her nine champions… Lupus, Rota, Ocellus, Fila, Peregrinus, Alatus, Monoceros, Iracundus, and lastly, Palmatum …those are constellation names. Albedo, do you recognize any of them?”
  Albedo rubbed his chin. “No, I don’t. Constellations are the speciality of astrologists, not alchemists. These names must be the constellations of the new Nine Choirs.”
  “But I thought there already was a group of pre-existing Nine Choirs?”
  “Yes, but those gods existed a long time ago. There is no telling whether any of them are even still alive.” Albedo’s eyes sparkled with interest. “So, the Caratrice sitting on the Crossroads throne right now is indeed an imposter…it seems I need no further proof. The Creator has returned. And this Madness, this dark art the book alludes to, has to be what is causing so many Vessels to turn against you. The fake Caratrice is using magic to control minds.”
   The red mist of the Madness…infected minds…the thing that spoke through Jean, the way every single character who wants to kill me has some sort blood red color in their irises… it had never occurred to Cara before that the hunt being enforced throughout Monstadt might be an order enacted against the wills of those leading the charge, but now, it all did truly make sense in a strange way.
  She turned the page, and an elaborate drawing of Caratrice’s true form with her six wings completely flared out was revealed to her. Encircling the mighty dragon were seven small lights, each one a single specific color: red, green, teal, purple, dark blue, light blue, and yellowish-orange. Curious, she peered more closely at the description underneath the drawing.
   A dragon reborn has no control over its fire. The same is said for the Creator. When She returns to Teyvat to vanquish the Madness of the heavens and the Abyss, reincarnated flesh will close around renewed muscle and bone, and Her power will be limited. But if the hearts of the Seven are absorbed, true power will be gained.
   Wait, Cara thought. Those aren’t lights. Those…those are the gnoses. This picture depicted Caratrice regaining full control over Teyvat’s seven elements by absorbing the gnoses of the Archons! Could this be a way for me to get home? If I get all of the gnoses, will I gain the power to return to my own world?
  “Did you find something?” Albedo asked.
  “Yeah,” Cara replied. “I think I finally found the answers I’m looking for. Here, read this page.”
  Albedo took the book and looked it over. Cara watched his face, searching for any sign of shock, or disbelief, or even amusement as he came to the conclusion of the plan that was starting to form in her head. But he didn’t; he just slowly lowered the book down after he was done reading and stared at her.
  “Well?” Cara questioned.
  “What you are thinking of doing is impossible,” he stated. “To gain an audience with an Archon, let alone all seven of them, and then proceed to challenge them for their gnosis is practically a death wish.”
  “You want to do what?” Sucrose squeaked.
  “But it’s the only lead I have,” Cara argued. “If I get the gnoses, maybe I’ll finally be able to go home. Whether I’m an imposter or not, this book says that something will happen if someone is in possession of all seven.”
  “Do you know what you're saying?” Sucrose cried. “Cara, as much as I want to believe that this legend is true, there is no proof of whether such a plan will give you the abilities you seek! The Seven are-are gods at their full power! Some of them have been alive since the Archon War! Do you really want to risk your life and challenge them when you aren’t even sure that having all of the gnoses will be the way to regain your full power?”
  “Yes,” Cara said, with so much conviction and determination, she rendered Sucrose silent. “I will do whatever it takes to get back to my own world. I have people there waiting for me, people who I know will miss me if I stay here forever. If fighting the Archons is the only way I’ll see them again, then so be it.”
  “But Cara,” Klee said. “Aren’t you afraid?”
  Cara looked at her. “Yes,” she answered after a moment. “Yes, I’m afraid. No, I’m terrified. I don’t want to die. And despite all my big talk, I-I really don’t want to face the Archons, either. But I have to do whatever it takes. I haven’t had any leads until now. The wind pointed me towards this book for a reason. I have to believe that it was because it wanted me to know that getting the gnoses is how I get back to my world.”
  Sucrose looked down her hands with confliction. Albedo didn’t say a word. But Klee’s entire face lit up with admiration. “Wow, you really are one of the bravest, coolest gods ever, Your Grace! You may be even braver than Barbatos! I wanna help you find the Anemo Archon so you can get his gnosis thingy! Albedo, can we please help Cara?”
  Albedo sighed. “What kind of Vessels would we be if we were to refuse? We’ve been by Her Grace’s side since before she got here, and we will continue to be by her side from now on. Cara, we will help you get the Anemo gnosis, and after that, we’ll find a way to get you out of Monstadt so you can continue your journey through Teyvat. You have my word.”
  “Mine, too!” Klee cheered.
  “No doubt this will be dangerous,” Sucrose said. “But I want to help, too. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll try my best for you, Your Grace.”
  A wave of emotion swept over Cara, and she wanted to burst into tears. “Thank you, guys,” she said, voice warm with gratitude. “I-I don’t know what to say. If you really do want to help me, then I’ll accept it. But, um, before we start putting together Operation: Let’s Fight God, can I ask you guys if there’s any way to get in contact with people in Monstadt City? I have friends who were helping me back there, too, and I didn’t mean to get separated from them. I want to let them know I’m okay.”
  “Of course,” Albedo said. “Who are they?”
  “Kaeya, Bennett, and Razor.”
  “Oh! Oh!” Klee cried. “Kaeya, Bennett, and Razor are the best! Kaeya wrote the Favonius Survival Rulebook for me and he always helps me cover it up when I make a big disaster, Razor always knows the best way to fix bad things when disasters happen to keep me safe, and I always find way more treasure if I go adventuring with Bennett..even though he never finds any. I’m so glad they’re your friends, too!”
  “It’s good to know you have them on your side,” Albedo said. “Though I don’t know Razor and Bennett very well, they are good influences for Klee. Kaeya, however, sometimes isn’t, but regardless, he’s a trustworthy ally. Sucrose, Klee, can you go down to Monstadt City and find the three of them? Let them know that Cara is safe, and they can come see her whenever they wish to. But do so discreetly, please. We can’t have the knights finding out.”
  “Of course,” Sucrose said. “We’ll head off. Come along, Klee.”
  “Okay!” Klee took Sucrose’s hand. “We’ll be back soon!”
  They left the camp, and then it was just Cara and Albedo. Reassured that Razor, Bennett, and Kaeya would know she was okay, and hopeful that they in return were safe as well, she allowed herself to relax. I hope they’re alright. I hope Bennett escaped the knights. I hope they weren’t captured.
  “I would suggest you get some rest,” Albedo told her. He stood up. “We have a full day tomorrow. I will be on the lookout for Sucrose and Klee when they return.”
  “Wait, what? What do you mean, we have a full day tomorrow? What are we doing?”
  Albedo smiled knowingly at her. “If you are planning on fighting gods, then you need to be prepared for the battles to come. Without the seven gnoses, you will never regain your full power, so we need to assure that you have the physical fighting skills to take on an Archon.”
  “What are you saying?” Cara asked.
  “I’m saying this,” Albedo answered. “Starting tomorrow, I am going to teach you how to wield a sword.”
  “Oh,” Cara said. “Oh. Makes sense, I guess.” To fight, one needed a weapon, and she had always favored the idea of learning how to use a sword even before she arrived in Teyvat.
  Albedo nodded. “Your training begins in the morning. If you need me, I’ll be right outside. Get some sleep.” And then he left the camp as well to disappear into the Dragonspine wilderness. Cara was left alone with her thoughts.
  She looked at the book, stared into the eyes of Caratrice, and sighed, before placing the book on the floor and laying down to nestle deeper into her blankets. She closed her eyes.
Steal the seven gnoses. Or die trying.
God, I am so doomed.
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Noelle wished she weren’t so nervous.
  She understood that she was here to gather information. In order for things to go smoothly, being here was necessary. Standing at the side of the Acting Grand Master’s desk, the maid listened intently to the conversation between Lisa, Amber, and Eula. Jean was sitting down, her hands folded over her mouth with her eyes closed, lost in thought. Leaning against the handrail of the office’s elevated portion was Mona Megistus, an astrologist that Noelle did not know well. Hovering before the Hydro user was a conjured scryglass depicting a muddled circle of hazy stars. Her brow was furrowed in frustrated concentration, and every now and then, she muttered something under her breath.
  “We have no idea if she’s even in Monstadt, anymore,” Amber was saying. “Those teleport waypoints are connected all over Teyvat. She could be halfway across the world right now, and we wouldn’t even know!”
  “I don’t think she’s left Monstadt,” Lisa said. “If she did, Her Grace would have told us by now. She must have been transported to another region nearby the city.”
  “But how did she even activate it in the first place?” Amber started pacing back and forth. “It makes no sense. They only respond to us Vessels when we’re being envoyed by the Creator. You…you don’t think she’s a Vessel going rogue, do you?”
  “Impossible,” Eula said. She wore dueling emotions on her face: one was shame, most likely due to the fact that the “imposter” escaped on her watch. The other was pure rage. “I refuse to believe such a heretical creature could ever be in the good graces of the Almother. Her Grace told us that we are dealing with an agent of chaos sent by the Destroyer himself to upheave the peace in Teyvat. She must have some sort of power born from the Abyss that allows her to use the waypoints.”
  “Well, then where do we go from here?” Amber asked. “How are we going to find her?”
  They both looked at Lisa. The librarian shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I may be a librarian, but I’m not all knowing. Jean, do you perhaps have anything to add to this?”
  Jean opened her eyes. “Mona,” she said. “Have you found any information on the imposter’s future?”
  “Well, you see, that’s the problem.” Mona waved her scryglass away and sighed. “In order to truly obtain a reading that will accurately tell me a person’s fate, I must know their constellation. All I have to do is look at the stars, and this piece of information is easily revealed to me. And it was. The heretic’s constellation is Veritas Primalis. However, that is all I know. Every time I try to look into her future or attempt to figure out where she landed after using the teleport waypoint, my scryglass becomes virtually impossible to read. It’s like there’s some elemental blockage preventing me from learning anything about her beyond what her constellation is.”
  Noelle relaxed when she heard this news. Good, she thought, but she didn’t let this be known. Amber and Eula looked troubled. Lisa didn’t look surprised, just slightly annoyed. Jean nodded calmly, but the protruding jugular vein on her neck showed her silent anger. “I see.”
  “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Acting Grand Master,” Mona said apologetically. “My only guess as to why my scryglass is acting up like this is that the heretic is using the power of Armageddon to keep her fate obscured. Hydromancy can tell us mortals many things, but in the face of a god’s power, it can be rendered useless.”
  “There’s no need to apologize, Mona,” Jean assured. “You’ve done all you can here, and I will forever be thankful for it.”
   Maybe they will give up the hunt, Noelle hoped. Maybe this will finally be when they stop this madness. There are no leads, no ways of even knowing whether she’s in Monstadt, anymore. This is good. Perhaps I won’t have to fight my friends, at all.
  “However,” Jean continued. “There is more you can do later on, if you would accept the position I am offering to you.”
  Noelle stiffened. What?
  “Hm?” Mona said. “Well, I’ll listen to your offer. What is it?”
  Jean pulled a piece of paper lying on her desk closer to her. Noelle could see a list of names written on it. “I took counsel with Her Grace before this meeting. She told me to put together a hunting party. The four people on this team were handpicked by her. Mona, you are one of those people. If I asked you to join three others to travel Monstadt’s regions to find and kill the imposter once and for all, would you accept?”
  Mona looked absolutely flabbergasted. “Me? Her Grace handpicked me? I-I cannot believe this! It’s a great honor-ah, I mean, yes! Of course I accept! Who are the other three people, if I may ask?”
  Jean read off of the paper. “These are Her Grace’s own words. “Find Sister Rosaria of the Church of Favonius, Amber the Outrider, the astrologer Mona Megistus, and Diluc Ragnvindr of Dawn Winery. The imposter is still somewhere in your nation. Where exactly, I don’t know. But I want these four to find her and bring me her head. They will be the hounds. The rest of you will be the hunters. Stay in Monstadt and be on guard. I have a feeling that the heretic will be back in the city soon.”
  “I was chosen by Her Grace, too?” Amber cried with astonished glee.
  “Ooo, so we are to be the hunters and the hounds, are we?” Lisa said. She was grinning like a cat. “How fun. I’m looking forward to seeing the little fox caught.”
  “It will be a glorious day when that happens,” Eula growled. “It will be the day when vengeance is officially served!”
  “This is certainly news I wasn’t expecting to hear,” Mona said, still obviously shocked. “But if this came directly from Her Grace, then I will accept her orders gladly. I…do not want to know what would happen if I were to refuse.”
  “Good.” Jean nodded. “I’ll gather the other hounds here later today. You four will set off tomorrow.” She smiled. “This is the highest honor I can ever think of receiving. I know you and the others won’t disappoint. None of us will. We will kill that imposter if it is the last thing we do.”
  “M-Master Jean,” Noelle blurted out. Everyone stared at her. She gulped and tried to steady her voice. “Um, if I may ask, why wasn’t I, or Master Kaeya, chosen?”
  Jean blinked. “I…do not know. But don’t think this means that Her Grace doesn’t care for you, Noelle. Everyone here knows that you put enormous effort into everything you do, including the Creator. You are Monstadt’s strongest Geo user, so you were probably chosen to remain in the city to act as an impenetrable defense.”
  “Yeah, Noelle!” Amber agreed. “You're super resilient, and super strong! You swing that claymore like it’s a child’s toy, and that shield of yours can take on any attack!”
  “Amber speaks the truth,” Eula said. “You are an incredible asset to Monstadt’s safety. I cannot think of anyone who would be better equipped to keep our citizens safe from harm.”
  “As for why Kaeya wasn’t chosen as well…” Jean hesitated before continuing. “It may have to do with the fact that Diluc was chosen to be on the hunting party. But, let’s not get into that. Noelle, I’ll make sure that both you and him are well-informed on the hunt for the imposter, so please, don’t feel rejected or left out.”
  “Oh, no, I never thought that at all!” Noelle said. She withheld her true thoughts. I hope Kaeya and I aren’t suspected by the false god. “It is my honor to serve as Monstadt’s defense. I will do everything I can to keep all of us safe from the imposter.”
  “That’s what I like to hear,” Jean praised. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. We will catch her.” She pushed her chair back and stood up. “Meeting dismissed. Mona and Amber, please come with me. We’re going to go find the rest of your team members. Everyone else, begin preparing surveillance throughout the city. We need to make sure that if the heretic returns, we will know, and we will be ready.”
  Everyone shuffled out of the office and went on their way. Noelle pretended to adjust her priestess hat as the others left. When she saw they were gone, she quickly darted up to the headquarter’s second floor. Her destination was the first room to the right.
  This is bad, she thought. Four of Monstadt’s strongest Vessels, all on the same team…oh, Barbatos, how could this happen? I have to warn Kaeya. I have to do something. If we don’t act first, Her Grace is as good as dead.
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Kaeya was afraid.
  He wasn’t one who enjoyed admitting to himself when such an emotion held him hostage. He tried to remain cool-headed in any situation, showing nothing but confidence and a leveled outlook as he endured whatever obstacle he was faced with. But now though, as he sat as his desk in his office and scanned a map of Monstadt’s various regions with a frantic eye, he knew he had to acknowledge that this was a time of his life where he would not be able to combat his terror.
  Last night, he had made a dire mistake. While standing guard for Cara during her errand in the library’s restricted section, he had been shocked to see Lisa walk out of said library with Razor by her side. At first, he had feared the worst: Razor had sold them out, and now Kaeya, Bennett, and Cara would be executed together. But for a split second, when the two of them shared a brief interval of silent conversation through eye contact, he understood the truth. The wolf boy was acting as a distraction. And Lisa was not supposed to be here. She should have been investigating the false tip he had sent in about a sighting of the imposter in the area around Dawn Winery with the rest of the knights. It was a completely unanticipated move, and it frustrated him to see that his carefully laid out plan of leading their adversaries astray had gone wrong.
  He had met Lisa with practiced manipulation, explaining to her that he had taken the night to complete some last-minute paperwork and was just heading out to the Angel’s Share for a drink. She didn’t question him about why he wasn’t at Dawn Winery with the other captains; no one had even asked him to go, most likely due to his strained relationship with Diluc. In an attempt to save Razor from being pulled away, therefore potentially inhibiting Cara’s success, Kaeya followed the two of them outside, though he knew this wasn’t a very intelligent move on his part. What would Cara think when she saw he was gone? What if the knights returned early? Would she deem him a traitor? Would she refuse to trust him again?
  The knights won’t return early, he had reminded himself. You specifically planned for them to remain at Dawn Winery well into the night. Cara will get out of the headquarters without any hindrance. She knows I wouldn’t betray her. Young Bennett will bring her somewhere safe, and once I get Razor away from Lisa, the four of us will reconvene. It will be fine. I have this under control.
  As it turned out, Kaeya, for all of his meticulous planning and smooth talking, did not have everything under control. Because as cunning as he was, he could not anticipate that the false Creator would somehow discover that Cara was in the library. He did not expect “Her Grace” to use Eula and a group of knights as surprise attack dogs with the command to wait outside of the library entrance for Cara to walk right into their clutches. By the time he had made it back to the headquarters, Cara was gone. Bennett was now suddenly a wanted criminal, and to keep him safe, Razor had whisked him away to Wolvendom. Kaeya was left completely alone-and thus, he was officially afraid for his god.
   How did this happen? he thought. His gaze continued to rove over the map, its weathered parchment filled with scribbled notes and thumbtacks that identified possible locations as to where Cara could be hiding. How did the fake Creator find out? Was she using Lisa as a set of eyes? Does she have spies within the city? No, that can’t be it. If that were the case, I would be arrested right now. It has to be something else. Damnit, why was Lisa even in the library in the first place? Jean must have told her to stay behind as backup. That’s the only logical explanation.
   His knee was bouncing, and his hand unconsciously went to pull at his hair. Frustration and desperation were building up inside of him as he stared at the map. He had to find Cara before the knights did. He couldn’t let her die. Not only was she his god, but she was his friend, too. She was most likely the only friend he had. He would not abandon her in her time of need.
  Something on the map caught his attention. Stormterror’s Lair was circled-not by his hand, but most likely from a knight who had previously used this same map for tracking. High numbers of Abyss Mages here, an old note was written at the top of the circling. Do not engage unless you have a Vision.
  “The Abyss Order,” he mumbled. “It was your people, wasn’t it? You were the spies.” An Abyss Mage sneaking into Monstadt City’s walls to cause havoc was not unheard of. He knew of the Abyss Order’s founding, how they were sworn enemies of the Creator and would do anything to soil her name. Could the false Creator be striking a deal with the Abyss Order in order to stop Cara from regaining her true power? It was not an unlikely theory, and it made sense. An Abyss Mage would use its magic to locate Cara and then proceed to send that information to the real imposter. It would explain why neither him, nor Razor, were arrested too, since only Cara was the known target. He would keep this prospect in mind for the future; if Cara really was being stalked by the Abyss Order, then he would have to put a stop to it. His loyalty to his god came before his past.
  A series of knocks on his office door made his head shoot up. Kaeya quickly rolled up the map and tucked it carefully into his desk. “Come in,” he called.
  The door opened, and in stepped Noelle. Kaeya did not relax; if anything, her presence gave him even more anxiety, for he knew she had essential information for him that would confirm Cara as either alive or dead.
  Noelle did not salute to him, or run through any of the typical Knights of Favonius formalities she took so much care in enacting. Instead, she only clasped her hands together and immediately informed him of what he needed to hear. “They’re putting together a hunting party. An official one, made up of four Vessels chosen by the false Creator herself. They’re going to scour every region of Monstadt until they find Her Grace and kill her.”
  Just as he feared. “Who did the false Creator choose?”
  “Sister Rosaria of the Church of Favonius, Mona Megistus the astrologer, Outrider Amber, and…and your brother.”
  Kaeya stiffened, his hands clenching. Of course, he thought. Because why wouldn’t he end up being involved? But it does make sense. Mona combats Bennett, Rosaria cancels out both him and Razor, Amber is a natural tracker and can use her bow to take out Cara from a far distance, and Diluc…Diluc cancels out me. The false Creator really did think of everything.
  “Master Kaeya, what are we going to do?” Noelle asked. “If the hunting party finds Her Grace, she won’t stand a chance against their combined strength. How are we going to find her first?”
  Kaeya shook his head. “I don’t know.”
  “You don’t know?” Noelle sounded shocked. “B-But Master Kaeya, you always have a plan. We just can’t sit here and do nothing! We must act first!”
  Kaeya pressed a hand to his temples and closed his eye. “I know,” he said. “I know we have to act first. But without any leads, we’re as lost as the hunting party. Our only option is to track their movements and hope we can snatch Cara out of danger before they attack.”
  “Master Jean did say she was going to keep us informed on what is happening with the hunting party,” Noelle said. “So, I guess that could work…Oh, Barbatos will have to send us a miracle though if we are to outsmart the entirety of the knights.”
  Kaeya thought of Venti and wanted to laugh. “Don’t bother praying to him. Barbatos will sooner join the hunting party than go against it.” He stood up and made for the door. “Come along, Noelle. I have an idea. We may be able to gain some information by wrenching it out of an Abyss Mage or two-”
  As he was walking out, someone crashed into him. Kaeya went flailing backwards, but was quickly caught by Noelle to stop his fall.
  “Ohmygosh, Mr. Kaeya, I’m so sorry!” The young figure of Klee came rushing over to him. “I didn’t mean to run into you. Please don’t tell Master Jean, I can’t be put into solitary confinement today!”
  “Oh, Klee.” Kaeya felt relieved. “It’s only you.” At first, he had been afraid that he had stumbled upon an eavesdropper, but he was sure that Klee was far too young for Jean or even the fake imposter to involve in the hunt. “What are you doing running around in the halls? Didn’t Jean tell you not to do that? You could trip and hurt yourself.”
  “I know, I know, and I’m sorry. But you don’t understand! We came all the way from Dragonspine to talk to you about something very, very important!”
  “We?” Kaeya questioned.
  “I’m with her.” A new person joined them; it was Sucrose, the young bio-alchemist who worked as Albedo’s assistant. She gave him a polite nod. “H-Hello, Master Kaeya. Um, Mr. Albedo, he-he sent Klee and I to give you an important message.”
  “Oh? And what could that be?”
  Sucrose looked over her shoulder nervously. “Can we talk about it inside your office? It’s, um, a very private matter.”
  “Certainly.” Kaeya allowed the two newcomers to shuffle inside, then dutifully closed the door. Sucrose opened her mouth to begin, but when she saw Noelle, she froze. “Oh, Noelle! I, um, didn’t notice you were here at first. I apologize for not saying hello. Klee and I, we practically ran here, so I’m a little winded.”
  “Oh, that’s alright, Sucrose. It’s wonderful to see you.” Noelle side-eyed Kaeya, silently asking him if he wanted her to leave. Kaeya shook his head. Stay. If this important message Albedo had for him involved Cara, then he wanted her to hear it. Noelle could lead a rescue mission if he was unable to, so it was essential that she was aware of every detail.
  Sucrose still seemed hesitant to talk. Klee was watching Noelle carefully, then tugged at Sucrose’s hand. “I think it’s okay to tell her, Sucrose. Noelle is a nice lady. She would never do anything bad!”
  “Sucrose,” Kaeya said. “If I may ask…does this message Albedo has for me happen to be about the conflict about the imposter?”
  “Yes!” Klee answered before Sucrose could. “Only she is not an imposter, and I know you don’t think she is too, because she told me so!”
  “Klee!” Sucrose cried. “You're revealing too much information!”
  “It’s alright,” Kaeya said. “You can tell us everything. I take it Her Grace is with Albedo, then?”
  Sucrose sighed. “I suppose since Her Grace did say you were a friend of hers, it’s okay to tell you everything. Yes, she is currently with Mr. Albedo right now. We found her by a teleport waypoint near his camp. She’s safe, so you don’t have to worry. She wanted Klee and I to tell you, Bennett, and Razor that.”
  “Oh, that is certainly a relief,” Noelle sighed.
  “Yes, it definitely is.” Kaeya felt like slumping to the floor; after being worried for an entire night and morning about whether Cara was dead or alive, it was welcoming news to hear that she was alright.
  “Where are Bennett and Razor?” Klee asked, slightly disappointed. “I wanted to see them.”
  “They’re in Wolvendom,” Kaeya replied. “Bennett was seen helping Her Grace escape the city last night, so he’s currently not welcome here anymore, and he’s in hiding. We should find the two of them right away. I know they’re eager to hear about Cara’s safety.”
  “Sucrose, have you heard about what Master Jean is planning?” Noelle asked the other girl. “There’s going to be a hunting party! If they show up in Dragonspine, it is essential that you keep Her Grace hidden from view!”
  “A hunting party?” Sucrose repeated, paling. “Oh, no, that’s-that’s not good at all!”
  “No, it isn’t,” Kaeya said. As he did, however, a lightbulb suddenly went off in his mind. The hunting party was made up of only four people…but here he was with Noelle, Sucrose, and Klee, three Vision users who were on Cara’s side. Add in himself, Bennett, Razor, and Albedo, and that was six Vessels who believed in the true Creator. If they were forced to face the hunting party in combat, they would have a high chance of winning. And of course, there were others as well…“But while it is something we should worry about, I think I may have a plan to stop them from killing Cara.”
  “You have a plan now?” Noelle said. She sounded delighted.
  “Yes, and it may just work. To make sure the hunting party doesn’t endanger Her Grace…perhaps we should form a party of our own.”
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will-o-the-witch · 2 years
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TW For Antisemitism, Gentiles pretending they're Jewish
Oh my fuck I hate living in a family with a bunch of evangelical christians who think that they have some claim to Judaism because they have some (male) ancestors who were raised as christian jews
Like I keep learning about all these amazing and interesting things from my (jewish) friends about judaism, and from ppl like u & jacob geller on the interwebs and it's so interesting and fascinating and i wanna talk about it with everyone i meet who'll listen because just *stimmy noises*
But if i bring stuff up with my family they'll just be like ah yes I think this connects to jesus in this way and if i call them out they'll be like *gasp* "but i have jewish blood!" and i just wanna punch them sometimes lol
Sorry just seeing that transphobic antisemitic person on ur feed just reminded me of them and it's just very ughhhh
One time I told them about the Golem and they compared his death to Jesus on the cross and said (direct quote: A: "was that intentional" B: "the jews are waiting for the messiah so it does make sense that their stories would have messianic undertones")
I'm going to go scream again. Farewell and sorry for venting in your ask box (I hope you skip this if it's too triggering/frustrating for you)
No worries at all!! I feel the pain of people trying to Jesusify everything lol. I think a lot of people just dont quite understand how Judaism works and try to supplement it with the DNA of other stuff and it just.... doesn't work lol
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redmusex · 3 months
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#003: MUSE - TOP 10 BOOKS OF 2023
I just started this blog so I'd better fill you in on something: I set a goal to read 100 books by the end of this year. Right now I'm at 101, and I still have about a week left before we wrap up the year. First thing next year I start grad school, which is not something I want to do but I have to due to a promotion at work. so I will not have nearly enough time to read 100 more books. So I'll probably set a goal of 20 or something for next year.
This list has 2 books from the following categories in the following order: graphic novel, biography, theory, poetry, and fiction. These books range from powerful to incredibly sad to just plain strange. TWs included in the description.
Anyway, here are my Top 10 books that I read in 2023 in no particular order!
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Wake: The Hidden History of Women-Led Slave Revolts by Rebecca Hall / Hugo Martínez
Beginning the list with a graphic novel, this book tells an incredible story. It provides a visual depiction of what the Trans-Atlantic slave trade actually looked like. It describes the story of the authors journey to find the truth about her ancestors' past. It is as dark and haunting as it is illuminating. Rebecca Hall is a hero for writing this graphic novel. TW for depictions of anti-Black violence, slavery, and lynching.
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2. The Harrowing of Hell by Evan Dahm (@evandahm)
Another graphic novel, this is a very intriguing rendition of Jesus' descent into hell. Its a subject that's only been mentioned in passing when I would attend church. To see it depicted in this very vivid art style is a very awakening experience. Although the art and sparse dialogue can be a bit abstract at times, overall the work is really solid and the liberating message comes across well in the end. 
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3. The Holly: Five Bullets, One Gun, and the Struggle to Save an American Neighborhood by Julian Rubinstein
The most incredible thing about this book is that it is a true story years in the making. Anyone who lives in Denver or is invested in social justice must make time to read this very important chronicle of anti-gang and anti-police activists in Denver. I don't want to say too much about this book, but please do check it out. Also, I read this book as an audiobook—it is narrated by the author and contains original audio taken from archival footage of the events that take place in this book. TW for descriptions of violence, including anti-Black violence and police brutality.
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4. Joan of Arc: A Life Transfigured by Kathryn Harrison
I read this book for research I was doing into a poetic project that I may or may not complete one day. The author does a great job explaining in great detail the particular reasoning behind Joan's decision making and how her story fits into a messianic narrative utilizing the wealth of biographical information about Joan of Arc's life. The audiobook narrator, Cassandra Campbell, also does a decent job with the French names and terms. TW for descriptions of sexual assault and war.
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5. Constructive Criticism: A Handbook by Vicki Legion
Written about 50 years ago, this book still contains practical advice crucial for organizers to struggle with each other and come to correct conclusions. Vicki does a great job explaining how our emotions develop in a dialectical way, demystifying communication issues between comrades. Activists, organizers and everyday people alike should read this book to learn how to communicate better. I'm re-reading it right now and I'm still learning upon the second read!
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6. Strategy for the Liberation of Palestine by the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine
We better talk about this book while it's still legal to do so! The PFLP released this text in 1969 (?) to elucidate the Palestinian and global masses of the conditions Marxist-Leninists face in organizing for a revolution within occupied Palestine. The information contained in this book is dated, written before the Intifadas and the formation and consolidation of Hamas, but the dialectical materialist methods of analysis are still crucial to understanding present-day conditions.
**You can get both this book and Constructive Criticism from Foreign Languages Press as a free PDF/audiobook or a cheap paperback.**
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7. Short Film Starring My Beloved's Red Bronco: poems by K. Iver
This book fucked me up for real. This is a short yet devastating collection of poems detailing the loss of their childhood friend and lover. The speaker of these poems conveys the relationship between these two young people as one of mutual self-discovery, as both of them were trans and were having to learn to process this truth on their own. It's incredibly well-written and still sits with me months after reading. I borrowed it from the library but I may have to pick up a copy to keep on my shelf! TW for suicide and transphobia.
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8. Abuela, Don't Forget Me by Rex Ogle
I guess the poetry this year fucked me up for real in general. If you're familiar with Rex Ogle's other works like Free Lunch or Punching Bag, you're already somewhat familiar with the main character. This is a sort of memoir-in-verse that tells the story of Ogle's relationship with her grandmother, his only safe adult caregiver whom he could trust. He was prompted to write the poems in this book when his grandmother was diagnosed with dementia. The poems are so simple yet impactful, great for young readers. TW for domestic abuse and neglect, and casual anti-Latino and xenophobic racism.
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9. Mandíbula (Jawbone) by Mónica Ojeda
Rounding off the list with some fiction...and this was probably the weirdest book I read all year. I read the book in Spanish, which may have had something to do with it, but even so, the story of a bunch of high school girls at a preppy high school in Ecuador who are really into creepypastas and doing occult internet shit to torture each other was surprisingly well-written. The character development is also pretty strong between the two main girls of the group and the neurotic teacher whom they torture the most. If you were into really weird, fucked-up creepypastas as a teen, you might like this one. This book has also been translated to English under the title Jawbone. TW for abuse and kidnapping.
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10. Fledgling by Octavia E. Butler
Finishing with easily one of the strangest books I've ever read, period. This book tells the story of a vampire-like creature who wakes up in a cave and doesn't remember who she is. The story that unfolds is harrowing and confusing for the main character, but Butler does a good job of making sure the reader can keep track of the myriad of characters that the main character comes to encounter. I also read Octavia E. Butler's other standalone novel Kindred for the first time this year, but I wanted to highlight this one for how odd this story is and the risks that Butler takes with this book. I need to write an essay on Octavia Butler soon; there's so much to talk about with her novels. TW for genocide, racism, and war-like violence.
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stevefinnellhope · 2 years
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▼  February (60)
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angelofmusings · 2 years
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hi this is just a reminder that if you are a “messianic jew” the word you are looking for is “christian” and if you’re actually interested in judaism then jesus-worship is not a part of that. even if you call him by a different name. either stop appropriating judaism or remove jesus from your practice. the only place jesus truly belongs is xtianity… or a history class.
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murdershegoat · 4 years
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Ok, I don’t know why I keep bothering, but for the thousandth time:
You cannot be Messianic and Jewish. Messianic “judaism” is cultural appropriation and harms Jewish people. Belief in Christ as the messiah makes you Christian. So I don’t care how pulled you are to Jewish traditions. I don’t care that you think a yarmulke is a cool symbol of devotion, or that you really wan to get your hands on a shofar because maybe Jesus did it. Stop. Leave our practices alone.
Goyim please don’t be disrespectful if and when you interact.
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gay-jewish-bucky · 11 months
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there is so much going on here and all of it is bad, i think their desire to claim him as one of their own says a lot about the movement as a whole than any narrative they could ever spin could say
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1zdex · 5 years
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Any other rp blogs out there who love their bible and would die for Jesus Christ [Yeshua the Messiah]?
I want a headcount so please reblog if this applies to you. Any fandom or fandomless.
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eclipsenoir · 2 years
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tw: death mention, religious introspection. purely for fictional indulgence. i'm personally not religious. just an angsty idiot with internet connection.
The moon sits cold and remote in a pale, unforgiving winter sky, stained alight with stars and the coming of snow.
The needling frost in the wind announces as much as it chases by, sticking painful pinpricks in his cheeks like acupuncture. But it's a far cry from the seething bonfire of agony lit in his shoulder. Even the curdled knot of regret in his abdomen outdoes the cold.
Taeil is sitting on a worn stretcher, unawares of the examinations bustling around him. Completely absent inside his own body.
Suspended in time: held hostage in a second so excruciating he would rather be dead.
Watching with vacant eyes he experiences a strange, detached projection; witnesses the accident reverting, then escalating again on the asphalt ahead. Repeating it at first only to pin a point in which he could've done different; turn his wheel the opposite direction, or step on the break a little earlier. Then it's just white noise.
Where was God in all of this?
Taeil was five years old when he'd first come to register what it meant to sit in a dusty pew with his tiny palms kissing in the name of Jesus.
In the primal mind of a small boy, being woken at dawn every Sunday morning to go have a staring contest with the statue of a bearded man he'd never met was a privilege he couldn't explain. He only knew it just was because his parents had sowed the thought in his head. Hoping it would soon yield healthy crops, if only to please themselves. And because they looked like they genuinely believed it themselves, the boy hadn't dared once to question them of it.
"I want to see God, if he's so important." Taeil had said. Innocent. Curious.
Though church itself wasn't particularly fun, it was large–beautiful. Thickset arches that rose up to a dark ceiling supported its anatomy, and scattered in between them, reticulated windows covered with dust tinted glass. The tall, bleached-white walls were a striking contrast against the black oak door that gaped wide at the frontside, heavy and studded pretty with iron. In the chancel Jesus stood, silent behind the altar and the priest. He infinitely basked with his hands leveled towards Heaven in the thin layering of colour yawning from the rich, glass window frames at his back.
None of which proved enough to inspire passion of any degree in Taeil's tiny heart. At least not for his religion.
He did love that glorious sliver of a second when passing the old footstep-worn threshold upon arrival, and it felt as though he were being swallowed whole into the pale, haunted belly of a dormant beast. Comparably, that breath-suspending instant when everyone was to stand to repeat the holy testimony of God; more than a thousand footsteps striking the floor alongside the dull thrum of voice pitches mingling, all in disordered harmony as a choir.
But otherwise, beauty wasn't enough. There were no slides and swings and building blocks–even enough kids around to play kickball with their ignorance. Most of the time, service began with his back glued to their seats and his mother's slender fingers squeezing her faith around his stubby ones. Followed by the gritty smell of bibles he disliked. Prayers. Prolonged hisses of sermons that sounded alike to fables the teachers read for him in school. Amen. Amen. Amen.
"Amen."
Then he'd wake up with the balmy scent of cigarettes and pine marrying in his hair, enveloped by what felt like the afternoon sun in his father's arms. The black oak door shrinking out of sight, Jesus' unblinking gaze locked away. Wake up, little prince, we're headed home now. I can't hold you forever.
Other times when he could endure, he would seek amusement in the priest's speech. Not the sermon, but a lisp on a grown man that, combined with his messianic passion for Christ, made him bathe those perched in the front pews in his spit every time he had to pronounce a word with 's' in it. Slippery tongue, watering the pulpit and staining feeble bible pages. After a while, five year old Taeil believed that's what the process of baptism was.
Until he were twelve, then fifteen and skeptical as his understanding of what it meant to press his palms together in the Lord's name shifted towards abandon. He vividly remembers crawling into the backseat after worship one day and thinking, fuck this.
Eighteen: the blessed crops of religion had gone unwatered long enough for death to finally lay waste of the yielded masses. He couldn't remember anymore what it was about how poorly the Jesus statue had been painted over that amused him so much, or why he still saw nothing valuable hidden in the otherwise verbose holiness that echoed in church like a thick storm.
He hadn't yet grown out of his childish lisp, though, so he was starting to sound like the greyed priest he thought was unfortunate. Took that as punishment for counting every Sunday how many times he'd seen spit snowing in the air and thought Jesus' rigid stare blinked at him sometime through the fall.
Maybe God had abandoned him the same second Taeil turned his back to the small wanting boy cradled in the pews. Wanting to see. Wanting to please. That's what he'd thought before.
"Dear God, are you still there?"
Twenty-four. An inviting, slow drag of callused fingertips from jaw to throat. The dulcet taste of bourbon on a stranger's lips. A xanax. I can't feel anything. Another.
Dirty tiles of a public bathroom floor pressed against numb knees. A violent, excruciating swell of dread gripping his heart, eclipsing even fear. Eight breaths per minute. Six. Six.
Maybe had become certainty, and Taeil finally understood so within the same heartbeat he'd realized he was going to die. Twice.
Cold plagues Taeil's lungs even from within the ambulance, and he has to swallow constantly to keep his throat from drying. A temporary sling carries his arm, Sera seated across from him with her narrowed stare following his shifting, looking as though she'll never forgive herself. No miracles line her eyes. Only fright.
Are you still there?
He sees his reflection in the glass door like a mirage in the desert. A hazy clot blurs his profile in the center, dressed by a violent peach fuzz around the edges.
It feels displaced—he feels displaced, as if hallucinating.
The wheelchair paramedics stuff him in is too small for his frame and makes him claustrophobic, when he'd never been. His legs drag and skewer uncomfortably but still they rush, voices humming far from his ears even if they aren't whispering.
Blind as he feels, Taeil still pinches his eyes shut against the glaring brightness that welcomes him a fraction of a gasped breath later. Wheeled and parked into a gaping room where no warmth exists for too-long a while, neither familiar nor the opposite of. Just a cold, brittle atmosphere saturated with the pungent smell of antiseptics and chilled blood.
An eerie disquiet he feels brushing greasy fingers at his nape roams flat among the chairs, expelled on the breaths of patients and worried family members alike. Intentionally there. Inescapable.
It holds someone on the opposite side at hostage, frozen still in a silent prayer that falls deaf on Taeil's heart. Or does it?
His mind shies away from investigating further what more there is while waiting for his unease to abate and painkillers to kick in. Eyes peeling open and slowly blinking away the blurry sheen, he stares at hands he can hardly feel—deadpan.
Distantly around him, more emergencies pour in as nurses and doctors rush about to their stations and the wailing even sedatives can't bandage. Everyone vastly different from the last person, though all equally caged in by walls as pale and oppressive as those he knew at five. Only shorter, and adorned by sparse notice papers taped back and forth, clocks that seem to tick backwards, and medical posters.
The emergency room.
"You will be tended to shortly."
After a while, Sera reappears. When had she disappeared?
Taeil sees painted toes stop in the far corner of his eye-line, before he raises it to her face–then training behind her. His mother is a beacon of light and hope at his friend's heels.
If only neither of them looked so awful in their own respective ways. Sera, battered up post accident as he were–and his mother, telling horror draining her pretty face pastel. That sick look of a woman who'd just seen worse than a ghost; who's heart was breaking to witness her child's suffering firsthand.
Shame, remorse and anguish wells up in his throat in a silent, bruising scream, clogging his throat with tears he has no energy left to shed. He wants more than anything in the world to encase her in his arms and apologize for being so careless; for valuing the life she gave him less than he should've. Playing with it more than he should've. Meeting death twice.
But he can only sit back with hands folded on bruised thighs and let her see the bald truth without his help. Can only watch the agonizing series of emotions pass on her small face as naturally a temperatures rise and fall.
She peels off the first glove from her hand and forgets immediately about the other pair. Then, in a small voice she murmurs, "My love–"
This visibly breaks him from prow to stern. With all the sound he can possibly muster without his voice cracking or heart erupting, Taeil manages–pleading, "Eomma."
And just like that, his lulled pain suddenly loses association with his bleeding forehead, and the luxated bone in his arm. His stomach clenches in a tight fist with the added effort of talking, the contraction causing a new layer of pain to flourish throughout his protesting body. He bites it down.
"I'm sorry–"
"Don't be. You'll both be okay. I'm here with you."
Around his mother's neck, Taeil sees a tangle of necklaces neatly tucked under her scrubs, where he knows a little cross hangs in between. He almost expects her to reach for it instinctively, though at length, his mother just swallows what seems to be all her lingering pain, sticky words, and sits with them both flanking her.
Partially as his mother–telling by how she slips her gentle fingers in the weakened grip he can feel mostly in his knuckles, like the young mother did with her son in church, anchoring herself there. But mostly as a professional on duty, despite looking out of place in any other space than the surgery room.
Taeil looks at her steeled face, traces thin brushstroke brows and a small, angular nose she hadn't bequeathed to him, and wonders how many cigarettes she'll smoke later at home. If she'll be able to sleep at all while at mercy of this reality.
From a hidden corner none have noticed, Jesus watches them with that faded, unblinking gaze from his stand.
In his divine eyes, Taeil was twenty years younger again; bangs a smooth cowlick over his tiny forehead, his plaid button up ironed to perfection on his back. His small mouth pressed in a fleeting line as he held in a string of giggles, and swung short legs that were too long for a five year old.
From the pulpit, the priest slipped his tongue around the letter 's' and preached about the gift of life itself, appreciation for such often overshadowed by arrogance and taken for granted. How, unfortunately, people only learned the hard way. God existed in desperate times of peril alone for the selfish, he spat.
In time present, Taeil squeezes his mother's hand and recalls none of it.
Stitches. First x-ray. Another x-ray. Another, for good measure. By the time they finish with him, it's past midnight, and Taeil is left seated with a chorus of ghosts in the now-desolate emergency room. Somehow, it had gotten much colder as it emptied. No one paces about anymore save for the grey wraiths of those who hadn't made it in this place.
His injured arm no longer looks like the bone is trying to tear itself out from under his skin anymore. It hangs now in a steady sling, uselessly laid on his chest, the other weighed in Sera's grip.
His friend sits in a glacial stillness on his side, her pretty face sagged with exhaustion, full lips a thin line. There's a bruise on her cheek that reminds him of being tenderly kissed by the universe, stars and moon and all.
She holds him so fiercely, so stubbornly and doesn't need to talk for him to understand all of what her silence whispers. Guilt was possibly the most fatal wound she'd sustained besides tiny cuts and bruises. It's all she has left now after her vanquished shock. And his hand.
In this moment he's vulnerable and she resembles an angel, moving in coercion with whatever force of nature that kept them intertwined this long. It could simply be his whelmed emotions and exhaustion adorning innocence on her face, or something else entirely, but Taeil abandons the thought before it grows legs and wanders.
Instead he turns away to face the ghosts in the room again so he wouldn't have to hear the tragic answer to the question of why Sera's parents never showed up, and meets a bible left behind on a chair. From his stand, Jesus stares.
Five year old Taeil flips aimlessly through the flimsy pages, cowlick bangs neatly arranged on his forehead. Tiny brows wrinkled in confusion. Eighteen year old Taeil is more decisive, folds his fingers under the book spread in his palms and swears that'll be his last time tracing its spine for a while.
Now twenty five and acquainted with death more than he ever was with God, Taeil wonders if the person who'd left it there tonight experienced such a moment only hours earlier, alike him who'd been there years ago.
Dear God, are you still there?
"I'm so fucking tired."
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isshua · 1 year
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~Welcome to the Domain of the Dragon!~
You can call me Isshua, and this is just my funky little blog where I like to write about Genshin Impact, mainly sagau content. This is all extremely self-indulgent for me, but if you happen to come across my writing and enjoy it, feel free to drop a follow and stick around!
Some things to remember:
Asks are always open and always encouraged! Don’t be afraid to ask me anything!
I am 18+, so be prepared to see strong language in my writings and posts, as well as possible TWs! The writings I make for Sagau will almost always be Imposter aus, so expect these sort of things to be recurring!
I will not be taking any requests for the foreseeable future. College is a bitch and rarely gives me time to write. I will post updates if this is to ever change!
If you have any more questions about anything, please let me know! I love interacting with people and sharing thoughts and ideas, so do not be intimidated to drop an ask or comment!
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Messianic Aureation: Main Imposter Sagau Series:
Masterlist
Imaginative Examples of Cara's Appearance
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Independent Writings:
Lies and Deceit, the Wrath of the Prodigal: In which Scaramouche shares his thoughts about the Creator, and why he despises them so much.
Breaking the Wall (Find Comfort in Those Who Might Here You): After hearing you start to cry while you are logged into the game, Xiao takes it upon himself to break through the wall between your world and his in order to tell you that everything is going to be alright.
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The Dragon's Thoughts:
Venti is too self-aware for his own good
Scaramouche harasses the Creator
How Cyno would protect you in an Imposter AU situation (CONTAINS SPOILERS)
Thanks for your time! The dragon appreciates your attention :)
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