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mtgbracket · 3 years

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Tiebreaker - Mazirek, Kraul Death Priest vs Polukranos, Unchained

Hi folks! Yesterday, these two cards both got 177 votes in Batch 2.3, leading to a tie. I don’t vote in the polls so that I can be the tiebreaking vote when it’s needed. So here I am doing that.

I am going to be using the same format as I did for the ties in the original Magic Bracket - see this old post for an example. Essentially I will provide a written analysis on each card over five categories, and then finish with scores. If the scores also tie then my personal favourite gets the nod. The categories are:

- Quality of design, scored out of 10 - Power level, scored out of 5 (overpowered cards will score lower) - Flavour, scored out of 5 - Art, scored out of 5 (combined across multiple arts if there are any) - Place in Magic history, scored out of 5

Let’s get stuck in.

Mazirek, Kraul Death Priest

Design

Fittingly for a death priest, Mazirek cares about death - specifically, he’s one of the relatively few cards that care about sacrificing. While we’re more used to seeing this on black-red cards in recent years, Mazirek was printed in Commander 2015 and the sacrifice-matters element is perfectly at home in black. While it doesn’t feel green, the reward you get - +1/+1 counters on all your creatures - certainly does, and Mazirek has a solidly black-green feel as a result. And by both caring about death and growth/life, he also feels specifically Golgari - which matters as the Kraul are a Golgari insect group. Sacrifice-matters probably does play better in black-red (where red’s ability to sacrifice its own stuff lines up nicely), but it’s not massively out of place here.

Having flying (which makes sense for an Insect) but a measly 2/2 body for 5 also guides the player to imagining growing him into a massive threat through adding lots of sacrifice effects. The design is also kept light by not having Mazirek provide any inherent way of sacrificing things or making sacrifices happen - the player has to provide their own. This is pretty common for these kinds of designs, but is good because it means the rewards can be a bit juicier, as the player has to provide a sacrifice payoff, an enabler, and likely some fodder - although making your opponent sacrifice things also works!

One ding against the sacrifice trigger is that it does require players to handle a small bit of rules knowledge - specifically, identifying the “sacrifice” keyword action and understand which things are and aren’t sacrifices. And effects that make temporary tokens are annoyingly inconsistent about whether the tokens are exiled or sacrificed, which sets up a bit of a reading debt.

Power level

Fittingly for a card from a Commander precon, Mazirek is pretty potent. He can grow your team quite substantially with a few triggers, even if he doesn’t provide you an in-built way of getting them, and promises unbounded payoff. Combined with a sacrifice outlet and something with Persist can even make infinite combos, which is pretty compelling as a power option. Mazirek is technically legal in Eternal formats, but isn’t up to grade there - but that’s not a mark down on him as few cards are.

Mazirek ranks #278 on EDHREC, as the Commander of 424 decks, and as a card appears in 4% of decks on the platform. This indicates a potent and popular Commander card.

Flavour

Mazirek, as mentioned above, is the leader of the Kraul, the Golgari insect race. His card name certainly conjures up a lot of what’s going on with him - “Death Priest” is quite a title, and gets across both the death-focused aspect of the Golgari as well as the Kraul’s society - Mazirek was the leader of the Kraul race until his death in the War of the Spark storyline. His name is also fun to say - and feels quite insectile. It’s a shame that the “priest” title, which feels more like a Cleric, is not matched with his typeline, where he is a Shaman. There are plenty of green and even black-green Clerics, so this does feel like a minor ding.

Mazirek’s flavour text reinforces the “insect” thing nicely, with talks of clicks and buzz, and the very Metal “incarnation of decay”. Overall the picture of a rotten, death-feeding entity is well sold. Being empowered by death is a flavourful concept, but “sacrificing” specifically is hard to convey as a flavourful concept - it’s a bit too mechanical.

Art

Mathias Kollros’s piece revels in the black-green colour palette we’d expect from a Golgari legend, and shows the central figure suggestively in dark greens and yellow highlights, but with the details hidden by strong green-white backlighting. The posing emphasises the many additional limbs that Mazirek has over a humanoid figure, with his wings and extra legs, as well as his elevated position. Some drippy, slimy looking moss decorates his podium and the darker edges of the piece give us the sense that we’re in the Kraul’s tunnels. After adjusting to the main image we also see the eggs at the edges of the image, adding to the insect / creepy vibe for an overall very effective piece.

Note that the colour palette appears to have been significantly darkened from the original printing for the later Double Masters version for no clear reason. I think the original printing is the superior.

Place in Magic history

Other than a supporting role in the Ravnica / War of the Spark storyline, Mazirek doesn’t have much to write home about here - no particularly unique or interesting things about him.

Polukranos, Unchained

Design

From this year’s Theros: Beyond Death, we have the zombified version of Polukranos. Originally gaining infamy as Polukranos, World Eater, this hydra is now presented in a black-tinged version - our second black-green card. He starts out with square stats as a very undercosted-seeming 4-mana 6/6, before later promising to escape as a 6-mana 12/12. The “permanent damage” drawback here is something originally seen on Judgment’s Phantom creatures, which only ever lost one counter per instance of damage; the counters-per-damage version was premiered on M11′s Protean Hydra as a “heads” metaphor, and was also seen on Ugin’s Conjurant. Conjurant and Polukranos share an important improvement - they only apply the replacement effect while they actually have a +1/+1 counter, which stops them becoming invincible if you raise their toughness some other way.

As well as being a big reservoir of power and toughness, this newer version of Polukranos connects mechanically to the original by including a fight ability - and a very rare repeatable one at that. This opens up some interesting options whereby if Polukranos has shrunk too much, you can fight him off in order to have him die and then be able to escape and reset him with his final Escape ability. Polukranos has the highest card-cost for any Escape card, needing six other cards to come back - justified by his massive size upgrade when you do so.

The design overall hits some of the right notes for the established Polukranos power set - beefy and activated-ability-fighting - while adding some interesting play patterns with the Escape mechanic. It doesn’t do a great job of feeling green-black to me instead of just green however - monogreen has Escape cards and that’s all that black is really bringing to this package other than a generic multicolour power injection and the Zombie creature type. And the design is very busy, with a lot of text and moving parts that is a bit confusing to play.

Power level

While being a Limited powerhouse, Polukranos hasn’t managed to get anywhere in general constructed thanks to competing for resources with the far superior Uro, Titan of Nature’s Wrath, which is commonly played with black.

In Commander, EDHREC shows Polukranos, Unchained at rank #494 as a Commander of 170 decks, and appearing in 3% of decks. The combo with Vigor is particularly nice - you can choose to apply Vigor’s replacement effect instead of Polukranos’s own one and have him grow every time he fights instead of shrinking!

Flavour

The name is straightforward enough - and connects with the art - but not inspired. The lengthy rules text doesn’t even leave room for Escape reminder text, let alone flavour text. The character of Polukranos is of a dangerous monster that Elspeth had to defeat in the original Theros storyline as the champion of Heliod, but the new version is just “that same guy from before, only he escaped from the Underworld”.

Art

Chris Rahn is one of Magic’s most notable current artists, with a great ability to render detailed fantasy images with beautiful details. The purple-and-grayish hues of the underworld are used here to show the location, and nicely we see the upper purple head of Polukranos blending with the beautiful night sky.

And those purple heads are shown coming from the same root - I believe they are actually regrowing at the time of the art! There are a lot of nice visual indicators of this - a pinkish glow showing where the stump was, the purplish colour of the two new heads, and the fact that those are a little smaller than the other four. The new heads both have collars on so I imagine these are magical collars designed for a hydra - but the art also shows that the chains weren’t strong enough, as the name tells us. A close look shows a loose chain breaking a statue in the foreground - and the other foreground figures help sell the size of the monstrous creature in front of us. The overall mood is “Oh s***, the monster has got loose!”.

Place in Magic history

We have a minor storyline character here and the card has no particular resonance or important part to play, so not looking at a whole lot here.

Final verdict

Mazirek, Kraul Death Priest

Design - 7/10 Power level - 4/5 Flavour - 3/5 Art - 5/5 Place in Magic history - 2/5 TOTAL - 21/30

Polukranos, Unchained

Design - 6/10 Power level - 3/5 Flavour - 2/5 Art - 4/5 Place in Magic history - 2/5 TOTAL - 17/30

Good luck to Mazirek, Kraul Death Priest in Round 3!

#mtg #magic the gathering #mtgbracket #tournamentofchampions #magic bracket tiebreaker

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timeless-hollywood-classics · 3 years

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James Francis Durante (February 10, 1893 – January 29, 1980) was an American actor, comedian, singer, and pianist. His distinctive gravelly speech, Lower East Side accent, comic language-butchery, jazz-influenced songs, and prominent nose helped make him one of America's most familiar and popular personalities of the 1920s through the 1970s. He often referred to his nose as the schnozzola (Italianization of the American Yiddish slang word schnoz "big nose"), and the word became his nickname.

Durante was born on the Lower East Side of New York City. He was the youngest of four children born to Rosa (Lentino) and Bartolomeo Durante, both of whom were immigrants from Salerno, Italy. Bartolomeo was a barber. Young Jimmy served as an altar boy at St. Malachy Roman Catholic Church, known as the Actor's Chapel.

Durante dropped out of school in seventh grade to become a full-time ragtime pianist. He first played with his cousin, whose name was also Jimmy Durante. It was a family act, but he was too professional for his cousin. He continued working the city's piano bar circuit and earned the nickname "ragtime Jimmy", before he joined one of the first recognizable jazz bands in New York, the Original New Orleans Jazz Band. Durante was the only member not from New Orleans. His routine of breaking into a song to deliver a joke, with band or orchestra chord punctuation after each line, became a Durante trademark. In 1920 the group was renamed Jimmy Durante's Jazz Band.

By the mid-1920s, Durante had become a vaudeville star and radio personality in a trio named Clayton, Jackson and Durante. Lou Clayton and Eddie Jackson, Durante's closest friends, often reunited with Durante in subsequent years. Jackson and Durante appeared in the Cole Porter musical The New Yorkers, which opened on Broadway on December 8, 1930. Earlier the same year, the team appeared in the movie Roadhouse Nights, ostensibly based on Dashiell Hammett's novel Red Harvest.

By 1934, Durante had a major record hit with his own novelty composition, "Inka Dinka Doo", with lyrics by Ben Ryan. It became his theme song for the rest of his life. A year later, Durante starred on Broadway in the Billy Rose stage musical Jumbo. A scene in which a police officer stopped Durante's character—who was leading a live elephant across the stage—to ask "what are you doing with that elephant?", followed by Durante's reply "what elfin!?" was a regular show-stopper. This comedy bit, also reprised in his role in Billy Rose's Jumbo, likely contributed to the popularity of the idiom "the elephant in the room". Durante also appeared on Broadway in Show Girl (1929), Strike Me Pink (1934) and Red, Hot and Blue (1936).

During the early 1930s, Durante alternated between Hollywood and Broadway. His early motion pictures included an original Rodgers & Hart musical The Phantom President (1932), which featured Durante singing the self-referential Schnozzola. He initially was paired with silent film legend Buster Keaton in a series of three popular comedies for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Speak Easily (1932), The Passionate Plumber (1932), and What! No Beer? (1933), which were financial hits and a career springboard for the distinctive newcomer. However, Keaton's vociferous dissatisfaction with constraints the studio had placed upon him, his perceived incompatibility with Durante's broad chatty humor, exacerbated by Keaton's alcoholism, led the studio to end the series. Durante went on to appear in The Wet Parade (1932), Broadway to Hollywood (1933), The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942, playing Banjo, a character based on Harpo Marx), Ziegfeld Follies (1946), Billy Rose's Jumbo (1962, based on the 1935 musical), and It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963). In 1934, he starred in Hollywood Party, where he dreams he is Schnarzan, a parody of Tarzan, who was popular at the time due to the Johnny Weissmuller films.

On September 10, 1933, Durante appeared on Eddie Cantor's NBC radio show, The Chase and Sanborn Hour, continuing until November 12 of that year. When Cantor left the show, Durante took over as its star from April 22 to September 30, 1934. He then moved on to The Jumbo Fire Chief Program (1935–1936).

Durante teamed with Garry Moore for The Durante-Moore Show in 1943. Durante's comic chemistry with the young, brushcut Moore brought Durante an even larger audience. "Dat's my boy dat said dat!" became an instant catchphrase, which would later inspire the cartoon Augie Doggie and Doggie Daddy. The duo was one of the nation's favorites for the rest of the decade. Their Armed Forces Radio Network Command Performance with Frank Sinatra remains a favorite of radio-show collectors today. Moore left the duo in mid-1947, and the program returned October 1, 1947 as The Jimmy Durante Show. Durante continued the show for three more years and featured a reunion of Clayton, Jackson and Durante on his April 21, 1948 broadcast.

Although Durante made his television debut on November 1, 1950 (on the Four Star Revue - see below) he continued to keep a presence in radio, as a frequent guest on Tallulah Bankhead's two-year NBC comedy-variety show The Big Show. Durante was one of the cast on the show's premiere November 5, 1950, along with humorist Fred Allen, singers Mindy Carson and Frankie Laine, stage musical performer Ethel Merman, actors Jose Ferrer and Paul Lukas, and comic-singer Danny Thomas (about to become a major television star in his own right). A highlight of the premiere was Durante and Thomas, whose own nose rivaled Durante's, in a routine in which Durante accused Thomas of stealing his nose. "Stay outta dis, no-nose!" Durante barked at Bankhead to a big laugh.

From 1950 to 1951, Durante was the host once a month (alternating with Ed Wynn, Danny Thomas and Jack Carson) on Wednesday evenings at 8 p.m, on NBC's comedy-variety series Four Star Revue. Jimmy continued with the show until 1954.

Durante then had a half-hour variety show - The Jimmy Durante Show - on NBC from October 2, 1954 to June 23, 1956.

Beginning in the early 1950s, Durante teamed with sidekick Sonny King, a collaboration that would continue until Durante's death. He often was seen regularly in Las Vegas after Sunday Mass outside of the Guardian Angel Cathedral standing next to the priest and greeting the people as they left Mass.

Several times in the 1960s, Durante served as host of ABC's Hollywood Palace variety show, which was taped live (and consequently included ad-libs by the seasoned vaudevillian).

His last regular television appearance was co-starring with the Lennon Sisters on Jimmy Durante Presents the Lennon Sisters Hour, which lasted for one season on ABC (1969–1970).

Durante's first wife was Jean "Jeanne" Olson, whom he married on June 19, 1921. She was born in Ohio on August 31, 1896. She was 46 years old when she died on Valentine's Day in 1943, after a lingering heart ailment of about two years, although different newspaper accounts of her death suggest she was 45 or perhaps 52.[9] As her death was not immediately expected, Durante was touring in New York at the time and returned to Los Angeles right away to complete the funeral arrangements.

Durante's radio show was bracketed with two trademarks: "Inka Dinka Doo" as his opening theme, and the invariable signoff that became another familiar national catchphrase: "Good night, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are." For years no one knew who Mrs. Calabash referred to and Durante preferred to keep the mystery alive until 1966. One theory was that it referred to the owner of a restaurant in Calabash, North Carolina, where Durante and his troupe had stopped to eat. He was so taken by the food, the service, and the chitchat he told the owner that he would make her famous. Since he did not know her name, he referred to her as "Mrs. Calabash". At a National Press Club meeting in 1966 (broadcast on NBC's Monitor program), Durante finally revealed that it was indeed a tribute to his wife. While driving across the country, they stopped in a small town called Calabash, North Carolina whose name Jean had loved. "Mrs. Calabash" became his pet name for her, and he signed off his radio program with "Good night, Mrs. Calabash." He added "wherever you are" after the first year.

Durante married his second wife, Margaret "Margie" Little, at St. Malachy Roman Catholic Church in New York City on December 14, 1960. As a teenager she had been crowned Queen of the New Jersey State Fair. She attended New York University before being hired by the legendary Copacabana in New York City. She and Durante met there 16 years before their marriage, when he performed there and she was a hatcheck girl. She was 41 and he 67 when they married. With help from their attorney, Mary G. Rogan, the couple were able to adopt a baby, Cecilia Alicia (nicknamed CeCe and now known as CeCe Durante-Bloum), on Christmas Day, 1961. CeCe became a champion horsewoman and then a horse trainer and horseriding instructor. Margie died on June 7, 2009, at the age of 89.

On August 15, 1958, for his charitable acts, Durante was awarded a three-foot-high brass loving cup by the Al Bahr Shriners Temple. The inscription reads: "JIMMY DURANTE THE WORLD'S MOST FAMOUS COMEDIAN. A loving cup to you Jimmy, it's larger than your nose, but smaller than your heart. Happiness always, Al Bahr Temple, August 15, 1958." Jimmy Durante started out his career with Clayton and Jackson and when he became a big star and they were left behind, he kept them on his payroll for the rest of their lives.

Durante's love for children continued through the Fraternal Order of Eagles, who among many causes raise money for handicapped and abused children. At Durante's first appearance at the Eagles International Convention in 1961, Judge Bob Hansen inquired about his fee for performing. Durante replied, "Do not even mention money judge or I'll have to mention a figure that'll make ya sorry ya brought it up." "What can we do then?" asked Hansen. "Help da kids," was Durante's reply. Durante performed for many years at Eagles conventions free of charge, even refusing travel money. The Fraternal Order of Eagles changed the name of their children's fund to the Jimmy Durante Children's Fund in his honor, and in his memory have raised over 20 million dollars to help children. A reporter once remarked of Durante after an interview: "You could warm your hands on this one." One of the projects built using money from the Durante Fund was a heated therapy swimming pool at the Hughen School in Port Arthur, Texas. Completed in 1968, Durante named the pool the "Inka Dinka Doo Pool".

Durante was an active member of the Democratic Party. In 1933, he appeared in an advertisement shown in theaters supporting Franklin D. Roosevelt's New Deal programs and wrote a musical score titled Give a Man a Job to accompany it. He performed at both the inaugural gala for President John F. Kennedy in 1961 and a year later at the famous Madison Square Garden rally for the Democratic party that featured Marilyn Monroe singing "Happy Birthday" to JFK.

Durante continued his film appearances through It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World and television appearances through the early 1970s. He narrated the Rankin-Bass animated Christmas special Frosty the Snowman (1969), re-run for many years since. The television work also included a series of commercial spots for Kellogg's Corn Flakes cereals in the mid-1960s, which introduced Durante's gravelly growl and narrow-eyed, large-nosed countenance to millions of children. "Dis is Jimmy Durante, in puy-son!" was his introduction to some of the Kellogg's spots. One of his last appearances was in a memorable television commercial for the 1973 Volkswagen Beetle, where he proclaimed that the new, roomier Beetle had "plenty of breathin' room... for de old schnozzola!"

In 1963, Durante recorded the album of pop standards September Song. The album became a best-seller and provided Durante's re-introduction to yet another generation, almost three decades later. From the Jimmy Durante's Way of Life album came the gravelly interpretation of the song "As Time Goes By", which accompanied the opening credits of the romantic comedy hit Sleepless in Seattle, while his version of "Make Someone Happy" launched the film's closing credits. Both are included on the film's best-selling soundtrack. Durante also recorded a cover of the well-known song I'll Be Seeing You, which became a trademark song on his 1960s TV show. This song was featured in the 2004 film The Notebook.

He wrote a foreword for a humorous book compiled by Dick Hyman titled Cockeyed Americana. In the first paragraph of the "Foreword!", as Durante called it, he describes meeting Hyman and discussing the book and the contribution that Hyman wanted Durante to make to it. Durante wrote "Before I can say gaziggadeegasackeegazobbath, we're at his luxurious office." After reading the material Hyman had compiled for the book, Durante commented on it: "COLOSSAL, GIGANTIC, MAGNANIMOUS, and last but not first, AURORA BOREALIS. [Capitalization Durante's] Four little words that make a sentence—and a sentence that will eventually get me six months."

Durante retired from performing in 1972 after he became wheelchair-bound following a stroke. He died of pneumonia in Santa Monica, California on January 29, 1980, 12 days before he would have turned 87. He received Catholic funeral rites four days later, with fellow entertainers including Desi Arnaz, Ernest Borgnine, Marty Allen, and Jack Carter in attendance, and was interred at Holy Cross Cemetery in Culver City, California.

On June 25, 2019, The New York Times Magazine listed Jimmy Durante among hundreds of artists whose material was reportedly destroyed in the 2008 Universal fire.

Jimmy Durante is known to most modern audiences as the character who narrated and sang the 1969 animated special Frosty the Snowman. He also performed the Ron Goodwin title song to the 1968 comedy-adventure Monte Carlo or Bust (titled Those Daring Young Men in Their Jaunty Jalopies in the U.S.) sung over the film's animated opening credits.

While his own career in animation was limited, Durante's distinctive voice, looks and catchphrases earned him numerous depictions and allusions in animation: A character in M-G-M cartoons, a bulldog named Spike, whose puppy son was always getting caught by accident in the middle of Tom and Jerry's activities, referenced Durante with a raspy voice and an affectionate "Dat's my boy!" In another Tom and Jerry short, a starfish lands on Tom's head, giving him a big nose. He then proceeds with Durante's famous "Ha-cha-cha-cha" call. The 1943 Tex Avery cartoon "What's Buzzin' Buzzard" featured a vulture with a voice that sounded like Jimmy Durante. A Durante-like voice (originally by Doug Young) was also given to the father beagle, Doggie Daddy, in Hanna-Barbera's Augie Doggie and Doggie Daddy cartoons, Doggie Daddy invariably addressing the junior beagle with a Durante-like "Augie, my son, my son", and with frequent citations of, "That's my boy who said that!" The 1945 MGM cartoon Jerky Turkey featured a turkey which was a caricature of Durante.

Many Looney Tunes/Merrie Melodies cartoons had characters based on Durante. One Harman-Ising short from 1933, Bosko's Picture Show, featured a caricature of Adolf Hitler chasing Durante with a meat cleaver. Two examples from the 1940s include A Gruesome Twosome, which features a cat based on Durante, and Baby Bottleneck, which in unedited versions opens with a Durante-like stork. Book Revue shows the well-known (at that time) 1924 Edna Ferber novel So Big featuring a Durante caricature on the cover. The "so big" refers to his nose, and as a runaway criminal turns the corner by the book, Durante turns sideways using his nose to trip the criminal, allowing his capture. In Hollywood Daffy, Durante is directly depicted as himself, pronouncing his catchphrase "Those are the conditions that prevail!" In The Mouse-Merized Cat, Catstello (a Lou Costello mouse) briefly is hypnotized to imitate Jimmy Durante singing Lullaby of Broadway. One of Durante's common catchphrases "I got a million of 'em!" was used as Bugs' final line in Stage Door Cartoon.

A Durante-like voice was also used for Marvel Comics superhero The Thing in the Hanna-Barbera cartoon Fred and Barney Meet the Thing. The voice and appearance of Crispy, the mascot for Crispy Critters cereal, was also based on Durante.[17] In Mickey Mouse Works, a character named Mortimer Mouse (voiced by Maurice LaMarche) was based on Durante, complete with the "ha-cha-cha!". One of the main characters in Terrytoons' Heckle and Jeckle cartoon series also takes to imitating Jimmy in 1948's "Taming The Cat" ("Get a couple of song birds today...").

Since Durante's death, his songs have featured in several films. Dan Aykroyd and Kim Basinger performed impressions of Durante from The Man Who Came to Dinner singing "Did You Ever Have the Feeling" in 1988's My Stepmother Is an Alien. His performance of "Young at Heart" was featured in City Slickers (1991) and his versions of "As Time Goes By" and "Make Someone Happy" played over the opening and closing credits of Sleepless in Seattle (1993). Michael J. Fox performed an impression of Durante singing "Inka Dinka Doo" in 1994's Greedy. His rendition of "Smile" featured in the film, and trailer for, Joker (2019).

#jimmy durante #classic hollywood #classic movie stars #golden age of hollywood #old hollywood #1930s hollywood #1940s hollywood #1950s hollywood #1960s hollywood #classic television #frosty the snowman #hollywood legend

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frizz22 · 5 years

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Prompt based on your last wonderfully written Spellwood piece. A time where Shirley caught Zelda giving Faustus a blowjob

Plus added request by @beretcheguevary wanting to see Zelda torture Shirley. Sequel to ‘Chaperones’. Read on ao3

They were safely sequestered in Faustus’ office. The door was locked, and classes had been over for an hour, so the likelihood of them being interrupted should have been zero.

Which was why Zelda thought nothing of the fact that she was sitting next to Faustus on the couch, bent over and pleasuring him with her mouth. While they may age slower than mortals, it didn’t mean kneeling on the ground for long periods was good on her knees. Faustus didn’t care that she was next to instead of in front of him, not based on the noises he was making, on how his hand fisted in her hair occasionally.

No, Zelda thought nothing of it. At least, not until she heard a soft click and a sharp inhale.

Bringing her eyes up, Zelda found Shirley standing there, eyes wide and frozen. Damn this woman and her ability to break the locking spells, though why she’d broken the ones on the high priest’s office was something Zelda stored away to think on later.

For now, though, Zelda could finally use the information Faustus had given her the other week; that Shirley wanted her, was jealous.

Maintaining eye contact with Shirley, Zelda continued to pleasure Faustus; her hand working the base of him while her mouth handled the rest. She hummed around him, relishing in his responding groan.

“Satan, Zelda, you’re glorious.” He gasped, oblivious to their guest, eyes still closed and head laying back against the couch.

Shirley still hadn’t moved.

Wanting to play with the woman a bit, Zelda inched her dress up more and spread her legs so she could slide her free hand between them. Eyes still locked with Shirley’s, Zelda dipped her finger in; first one, then two, then finally a third. At the third finger, Zelda couldn’t help how her eyes closed at the sensation.

When she opened them again, Shirley was flushed, and her chest raising rapidly as her eyes stayed glued to where Zelda’s fingers were working. Fighting a smile as her head continued to bob over Faustus, Zelda opened her legs a little wider and swiped at her clit; making her groan around Faustus who made a corresponding sound.

Shirley licked her lips, an involuntary shudder running through the woman that even Zelda could see from her position.

Making sure to coat her fingers thoroughly in her own juices, Zelda pulled her head back just enough to only be teasing the head of Faustus’ cock. As Faustus gasped her name, Zelda wiped her fingers off along his shaft and then lowered her mouth to encase him fully once more; the taste now an intoxicating mix of both her and Faustus.

Faustus was getting close, but Zelda was only half paying attention to him; eyes still on the witch in front of her who’s legs were now pressed together in a desperate attempt for friction after Zelda’s latest little display.

Her attention was only recaptured by the warlock under her when he grunted. “Zelda, I’m, I’m going to—"

Ever the gentleman, Faustus normally tried to warn her when he came; she took it all every time, not minding, but it was nice to not be surprised. Returning her attention to where it probably should have been this entire time, Zelda doubled down, losing sight of Shirley.

It was only when she finished, raising her head and licking her lips to capture some errant drops, making Faustus smirk, that Zelda noticed Shirley had vanished.

No matter, she knew where to find the woman. But first… she leaned in and kissed Faustus, letting him taste himself and a little bit of her as well, and guided his hand between her legs so he could finish what she’d started.

~~~~~~~~

Just as she’d thought, Shirley was in her office. In just the state Zelda expected her to be in; skirt hiked up to her waist and fingers buried deep inside herself.

Zelda couldn’t help but smirk. “What a wanton hussy we have here.” She intoned, Shirley’s head snapping up, eyes wide when they met hers—not that this shamed the witch into stopping. “Masturbating in your office. Why, Shirley,” Zelda purred, stalking closer. “Whatever has you so… worked up?” She placed her hands on Shirley’s exposed thighs spreading them a bit further and the woman whimpered with want and her hand moved faster between them.

“Please, Zelda.” She begged breathlessly; pupils blown wide with lust.

Unable to suppress it, a wicked smile spread across Zelda’s lips. “Please what, Shirley?” She dropped her hands and Shirley’s free hand shot out to grab Zelda’s.

“I want,“ she panted, "I need—”

Stepping back into Shirley’s space, and then a little closer still; Zelda stopped when she was standing between Shirley’s legs, her arms bracketing the woman where she was sitting on her desk. She then dipped her head as though she were going to kiss the woman’s neck. “You will stop spying on Faustus and I.” She breathed in Shirley’s ear, pulling back just enough so they were now eye to eye, inches apart. “You will stop breaking locking spells.”

One of her hands came up and squeezed Shirley’s hip and the woman gasped, fingers pumping furiously. Zelda flicked her free wrist, freezing Shirley’s efforts. “I need you to focus, Shirley,” she took the woman’s chin in her hand and lifted it, so she was looking Zelda in the eye. The woman mewled in desperation but remained stuck. “Stop spying, or we will have problems, and you don’t want that, do you?”

Shirley shook her head the best she could with her chin still in Zelda’s grip.

“Be good for me, help me out here at the academy and I may just reward you for it.” Zelda let her eyes sweep over Shirley as she freed her from the spell, the woman’s hand resuming its earlier frantic pace immediately.

With one last appraising look, Zelda turned to leave and Shirley grasped at her again, voice raw with emotion. “Zelda, please, please don’t go. I—”

“Haven’t done anything to earn a reward yet, Shirley.” She arched a brow and shook herself free, breathy gasps and moans following her out the door.

Faustus stood waiting for her at the end of the hall, eyebrows lifted. “Get what you need?”

Just then Shirley’s cries of release filtered through her door and down the hall.

“I believe all of us did.” Zelda grinned wickedly and Faustus wrapped an arm around her waist as they made to the front of the building to leave. “She won’t be bothering us anymore. Or snooping.” She informed him in a self-satisfied manner. “I even managed to turn her into a lackey.”

Eyes glinting darkly, Faustus’ nails bit deliciously into her hip. “And what did you promise her in return?”

Zelda turned, walking backwards a few steps, a sinful smile on her lips. “A reward, for if she was good.” Faustus smirked and took a few predatorial steps towards her. “Do I get a reward?” She asked demurely, lowering her eyes a bit in faux submission as he continued his approach; desire and anticipation building inside her at his expression. “For being good? For dealing with our Shirley problem?”

A growl escaped him, and Faustus closed the remaining distance between them, his lips marking her neck. “It’s only fitting.” He murmured, nipping her ear, before teleporting them to his house.

#caos #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #writing prompt #zelda x faustus #Zelda Spellman #faustus blackwood #father blackwood #spellwood #shirley jackson #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #AO3 fanfic #ao3fic

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dianagabaldonthegoddess · 6 years

Text

“Fergus,” Fergus repeated, with a note of strain in his voice. Fergus was the only name he had ever had—bar his original French name of Claudel. Jamie had given him the name Fergus in Paris, when they had met, twenty years before. But naturally a brothel-born bastard would have no last name to give a wife.

“Fraser,” said a deep, sure voice beside me. Fergus and Marsali both glanced back in surprise, and Jamie nodded. His eyes met Fergus’s, and he smiled faintly.

“Fergus Claudel Fraser,” he said, slowly and clearly. One eyebrow lifted as he looked at Fergus.

Fergus himself looked transfixed. His mouth hung open, eyes wide black pools in the dim light. Then he nodded slightly, and a glow rose in his face, as though he contained a candle that had just been lit.

“Fraser,” he said to the priest. His voice was husky, and he cleared his throat. “Fergus Claudel Fraser.”

“Do you think it’s safe to leave him loose like that? What kind of soup is this?” The last spoonful had left a delightful, lingering taste on my tongue; the next revived the full flavor.

“Turtle; Stern took a big hawksbill last night. He sent word he’s saving ye the shell to make combs of, for your hair.” Jamie frowned slightly, whether at the thought of Lawrence Stern’s gallantry or Ishmael’s presence, I couldn’t tell. “As for the black, he’s not loose—Fergus is watching him.”

“Fergus is on his honeymoon,” I protested. “You shouldn’t make him do it. Is this really turtle soup? I’ve never had it before. It’s marvelous.”

“Jamie was unmoved by contemplation of Fergus’s tender state.

“Aye, well, he’ll be wed a long time,” he said callously. “Do him no harm to keep his breeches on for one night. And they do say that abstinence makes the heart grow firmer, no?”

“Absence,” I said, dodging the spoon for a moment. “And fonder. If anything’s growing firmer from abstinence, it wouldn’t be his heart.”

“That’s verra bawdy talk for a respectable marrit woman,” Jamie said reprovingly, sticking the spoon in my mouth. “And inconsiderate, forbye.”

I swallowed. “Inconsiderate?”

“I’m a wee bit firm myself at the moment,” he replied evenly, dipping and spooning. “What wi’ you sitting there wi’ your hair loose and your nipples starin’ me in the eye, the size of cherries.”

I glanced down involuntarily, and the next spoonful bumped my nose. Jamie clicked his tongue, and picking up a cloth, briskly blotted my bosom with it. It was quite true that my shift was made of thin cotton, and even when dry, reasonably easy to see through.

“It’s not as though you haven’t seen them before,” I said, amused.

He laid down the cloth and raised his brows.

“I have drunk water every day since I was weaned,” he pointed out. “It doesna mean I canna be thirsty, still.” He picked up the spoon. “You’ll have a wee bit more?”

“No, thanks,” I said, dodging the oncoming spoon. “I want to hear more about this firmness of yours.”

“No, ye don’t; you’re ill.”

“I feel much better,” I assured him. “Shall I have a look at it?” He was wearing the loose petticoat breeches the sailors wore, in which he could easily have concealed three or four dead mullet, let alone a fugitive firmness.

“You shall not,” he said, looking slightly shocked. “Someone might come in. And I canna think your looking at it would help a bit.”

“Well, you can’t tell that until I have looked at it, can you?” I said. “Besides, you can bolt the door.”

“Bolt the door? What d’ye think I’m going to do? Do I look the sort of man would take advantage of a woman who’s not only wounded and boiling wi’ fever, but drunk as well?” he demanded. He stood up, nonetheless.

“I am not drunk,” I said indignantly. “You can’t get drunk on turtle soup!” Nonetheless, I was conscious that the glowing warmth in my stomach seemed to have migrated somewhat lower, taking up residence between my thighs, and there was undeniably a slight lightness of head not strictly attributable to fever.

“You can if ye’ve been drinking turtle soup as made by Aloysius O’Shaughnessy Murphy,” he said. “By the smell of it, he’s put at least a full bottle o’ the sherry in it. A verra intemperate race, the Irish.”

“Well, I’m still not drunk.” I straightened up against the pillows as best I could. “You told me once that if you could still stand up, you weren’t drunk.”

“You aren’t standing up,” he pointed out.

“You are. And I could if I wanted to. Stop trying to change the subject. We were talking about your firmness.”

“Well, ye can just stop talking about it, because—” He broke off with a small yelp, as I made a fortunate grab with my left hand.

“Clumsy, am I?” I said, with considerable satisfaction. “Oh, my. Heavens, you do have a problem, don’t you?”

“Will ye leave go of me?” he hissed, looking frantically over his shoulder at the door. “Someone could come in any moment!”

“I told you you should have bolted the door,” I said, not letting go. Far from being a dead mullet, the object in my hand was exhibiting considerable liveliness.

He eyed me narrowly, breathing through his nose.

“I wouldna use force on a sick woman,” he said through his teeth, “but you’ve a damn healthy grip for someone with a fever, Sassenach. If you—”

“I told you I felt better,” I interrupted, “but I’ll make you a bargain; you bolt the door and I’ll prove I’m not drunk.” I rather regretfully let go, to indicate good faith. He stood staring at me for a moment, absentmindedly rubbing the site of my recent assault on his virtue. Then he lifted one ruddy eyebrow, turned, and went to bolt the door.

By the time he turned back, I had made it out of the berth and was standing—a trifle shakily, but still upright—against the frame. He eyed me critically.

“It’s no going to work, Sassenach,” he said, shaking his head. He looked rather regretful, himself. “We’ll never stay upright, wi’ a swell like there is underfoot tonight, and ye know I’ll not fit in that berth by myself, let alone wi’ you.”

There was a considerable swell; the lantern on its swivel-bracket hung steady and level, but the shelf above it tilted visibly back and forth as the Artemis rode the waves. I could feel the faint shudder of the boards under my bare feet, and knew Jamie was right. At least he was too absorbed in the discussion to be seasick.

“There’s always the floor,” I suggested hopefully. He glanced down at the limited floor space and frowned. “Aye, well. There is, but we’d have to do it like snakes, Sassenach, all twined round each other amongst the table legs.”

“I don’t mind.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, “it would hurt your arm.” He rubbed a knuckle across his lower lip, thinking. His eyes passed absently across my body at about hip level, returned, fixed, and lost their focus. I thought the bloody shift must be more transparent than I realized.

Deciding to take matters into my own hands, I let go my hold on the frame of the berth and lurched the two paces necessary to reach him. The roll of the ship threw me into his arms, and he barely managed to keep his own balance, clutching me tightly round the waist.

“Jesus!” he said, staggered, and then, as much from reflex as from desire, bent his head and kissed me.

It was startling. I was accustomed to be surrounded by the warmth of his embrace; now it was I who was hot to the touch and he who was cool. From his reaction, he was enjoying the novelty as much as I was.

Light-headed, and reckless with it, I nipped the side of his neck with my teeth, feeling the waves of heat from my face pulsate against the column of his throat. He felt it, too.

“God, you’re like holding a hot coal!” His hands dropped lower and pressed me hard against him.

“Firm is it? Ha,” I said, getting my mouth free for a moment. “Take those baggy things off.” I slid down his length and onto my knees in front of him, fumbling mazily at his flies. He freed the laces with a quick jerk, and the petticoat breeches ballooned to the floor with a whiff of wind.....

“Oh, Lord!” he said. His hands tightened in my hair, but he wasn’t trying to push me away. “This must be what it’s like to make love in Hell,” he whispered. “With a burning she-devil.”....

“Is this what a succubus does, do you think?”

“I wouldna doubt it for a moment,” he assured me. His hands were still in my hair, urging me back.

A knock sounded on the door, and he froze. Confident that the door was indeed bolted, I didn’t.

“Aye? What is it?” he said, with a calmness rather remarkable for a man in his position.

“Fraser?” Lawrence Stern’s voice came through the door. “The Frenchman says the black is asleep, and may he have leave to go to bed now?”.....

“Ah…is Mrs. Fraser feeling somewhat improved?”

“Verra much,” said Jamie, with feeling.

“She enjoyed the turtle soup?”

“Greatly. I thank ye.” His hands on my head were trembling.

“Did you tell her that I’ve put aside the shell for her? It was a fine hawksbill turtle; a most elegant beast.”

“Aye. Aye, I did.” With an audible gasp, Jamie pulled away and reaching down, lifted me to my feet.

“Good night, Mr. Stern!” he called. He pulled me toward the berth; we struggled four-legged to keep from crashing into tables and chairs as the floor rose and fell beneath us.

“Oh.” Lawrence sounded faintly disappointed. “I suppose Mrs. Fraser is asleep, then?”

“Laugh, and I’ll throttle ye,” Jamie whispered fiercely in my ear. “She is, Mr. Stern,” he called through the door. “I shall give her your respects in the morning, aye?”

“I trust she will rest well. There seems to be a certain roughness to the sea this evening.”

“I…have noticed, Mr. Stern.” Pushing me to my knees in front of the berth, he knelt behind me, groping for the hem of my shift. A cool breeze from the open stern window blew over my naked buttocks, and a shiver ran down the backs of my thighs.

“Should you or Mrs. Fraser find yourselves discommoded by the motion, I have a most capital remedy to hand—a compound of mugwort, bat dung, and the fruit of the mangrove. You have only to ask, you know.”

Jamie didn’t answer for a moment.

“Oh, Christ!” he whispered. I took a sizable bite of the bedclothes.

“Mr. Fraser?”

“I said, ‘Thank you’!” Jamie replied, raising his voice.

“Well, I shall bid you a good evening, then.”

Jamie let out his breath in a long shudder that was not quite a moan.

“Mr. Fraser?”

“Good evening, Mr. Stern!” Jamie bellowed.

“Oh! Er…good evening.”

Stern’s footsteps receded down the companionway, lost in the sound of the waves that were now crashing loudly against the hull. I spit out the mouthful of quilt.

“Oh…my…God!”

His hands were large and hard and cool on my heated flesh.

“You’ve the roundest arse I’ve ever seen!”

A lurch by the Artemis here aiding his efforts to an untoward degree, I uttered a loud shriek.

“Shh!” He clasped a hand over my mouth, bending over me so that he lay over my back, the billowing linen of his shirt falling around me and the weight of him pressing me to the bed. My skin, crazed with fever, was sensitive to the slightest touch, and I shook in his arms, the heat inside me rushing outward as he moved within me....

I love these moments because we finally get to see some happiness in the Fraser clan. Fergus is officially a son to J&C and they finally get to have a fun married couple moment that we haven’t seen in a while. Definitely fun, exciting, heartwarming moments.

Favorite J&C Moment Season 3:Ep Uncharted Countdown to Season 4 Day 40

(Gifs from different sites)

#outlander #sam heughan #caitriona balfe #countdowntoseason4 #outlander fandom #starz outlander

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web-novel-polls · 7 days

Text

Priest (Author) Character Lower Bracket

[“Anti-propaganda” is not allowed. Please only give reasons to vote FOR a character, and please be courteous in the notes.]

Cheng Qian from Liu Yao: The Revitalization of Fuyao Sect

"Now, in Cheng Qian's eyes, there were only two kinds of people in this world: people who are no match for him now, and people who will be no match for him in the future." - Liu Yao: The Revitalization of Fuyao Sect, Chapter 38

No propaganda submitted

Sassy child who cares about his found family/sect SO much

The “meanie” from the description - “A cultivation story about how a declining sect is restored by a narcissist, troublemaker, meanie, idiot, and wimpy kid.”

“No matter how many foes, they cannot bend my will.” - Cheng Qian, ch.29

"He believed that when he was alone, he could do anything all by himself. For a lone person, when he reaches the peak of his achievement, he's still alone; when he falls to the depths of the abyss, too, he's still alone. Even if his head were to fall from his shoulders, wouldn't that just be a scar on his body? What was there to fear?" - Ch. 36

Feng Xiaoshu / Princess Jing’an from Lord Seventh

"How could a good-for-nothing hedonist like me be a match for a heroine like her? Don't be silly, Your Majesty." - Jing Beiyuan, Lord Seventh (Tumblr)

Submission: Badass lady who leads troops and can split a person's head in half with her spear <3

Differences between FXS in Lord Seventh & Word of Honor (she’s wildly different lol)

#cheng qian #liu yao #feng xiaoshu #lord seventh #qi ye #priest #polls #priest lower semifinals #priest lower bracket #priest character tournament #queue

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johnhardinsawyer · 2 years

Text

The Only Sure Things in Life

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

11 / 14 / 21 – Pathways to Generosity, Week 3

Matthew 22:15-22

“The Only Sure Things in Life”

(Pathways to Generosity – Part 3)

The saying is sure and worthy of acceptance, that, “. . . [I]n this world, nothing can be said to be certain, except death and [what?] taxes.” Way back in 1789, Benjamin Franklin, one of the more colorful founders of our country, was writing a letter to a scientist friend he had met in France. He wanted to tell his friend about the newly-adopted Constitution of the United States. “Our new Constitution is now established,” Franklin wrote, “and has an appearance that promises permanency; but in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.”[1]

Now, the “death and taxes” saying didn’t originate with Franklin over 200 years ago. It’s actually older than that, but Franklin did popularize the saying to such a degree that some of you were able to fill in the blank just a moment ago. And, what Franklin was trying to say with a knowing wink from behind his bifocal glasses is something that some folks know all-too-well. It is certain that nobody lives forever in this life. And, it is certain – or almost certain – that while we’re living (and sometimes after we’re dead) we’ll have to pay some taxes. In truth, the “death” part of “death and taxes” is pretty certain. But the “taxes” part might not be so certain, especially if you know all the right tax loopholes and make enough money to hire people to help you take advantage of all of the loopholes. . . which some people do.

Just so you know, today’s sermon is not about the perceived inequities and injustices of the US Tax Code or how it is interesting that the CEO of a major American company pays, essentially, 1.1% in taxes while people who have a lower income pay a much higher rate.[2] Just because it seems to be legal doesn’t mean that it is, for lack of a better term, fair. To paraphrase the Apostle Paul, just because it is lawful does not make it beneficial or useful for building up.[3]

I wonder. . . Did Jesus pay taxes? As an itinerant preacher and healer with no known children and no known home ownership, I’m not sure which tax bracket he would have ended up in. I am sure that he did know about taxes, though – what they were for and how unjust they could be. We see this in today’s reading from the Gospel of Matthew.

In today’s passage, we find Jesus in the Temple in Jerusalem, being questioned by the ruling religious elites of the day. As I mentioned a few weeks ago, Jesus is being grilled by the people in charge and almost everyone is impressed by just how well Jesus is doing under pressure. I say “almost everyone” is impressed, because the chief priests and the Pharisees hear Jesus’ parables and they want to arrest him for usurping their authority. At almost every turn though, the crowd of people gathered around is on Jesus’ side. So, in today’s passage, the Pharisees are plotting to entrap Jesus with his own words, and they say, “Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality.” (Matthew 22:16) It’s almost funny how, even though their words are tinged with sarcasm, they are, indeed, telling the truth about who Jesus is. Jesus is aware of their insincerity, though, so I’m sure he listens carefully to what they say next. “Tell us, then, what you think, Jesus,” the Pharisees say. “Is it lawful – according to our Jewish laws – the Law of Moses – to pay taxes to the emperor or not?”

Just to refresh your memories, Jesus is living in a time when the Roman empire has conquered his homeland (along with most of the known world). Jesus’ people are all subjects of the Roman emperor, whether they want to be or not. Many of them do not want to be subjects of Rome, but if they speak out, they will be arrested and/or killed. When it comes to Rome, the people living in Jesus’ day are divided – neighbor against neighbor, tax collectors against the people, the religious leaders who have compromised with the empire in order to continue to practice their religion versus true practitioners of the Jewish religion outside the bounds and influence of the Temple. The whole thing is one big complex political and religious conundrum.

So this question from the Pharisees is a tricky one. If Jesus speaks out against paying taxes to Rome then he is clearly speaking out against the Roman empire and is subject to arrest. But if he says, “Yes, you should pay your taxes to Rome,” then the Pharisees will say that he is on the side of the empire and is betraying his own people. “We’ve got him now,” the Pharisees say, greedily rubbing their hands together. To which Jesus says, “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites?” (22:18)

He then does a curious thing. He asks to see a Roman coin – one with a picture of the emperor on it. You should know that Roman coins would often have a picture of the emperor with some kind of statement about how great the emperor was. Some coins would even say that the emperor was some kind of god or on equal footing with a god. But the Jews gathered in the Temple with Jesus know that there is only one God – the God of Abraham, and Moses, and David, and the prophets.

So, someone pulls a Roman coin out and hands it to Jesus and Jesus asks, “Whose face is this on the coin, and whose title is printed on the coin?” And, they answer, “Ummmm. . . the emperor’s head and title are on the coin.” Then Jesus says, “Give to the emperor the things that belong to the emperor and give to God the things that belong to God.” (22:20-21)[4]

There are several ways of interpreting this saying of Jesus. One commentator writes that it could mean that the people should pay nothing to the emperor because everything – including the land[5] – belongs to God. Or, it could mean that the emperor does God’s will and should be honored because of it – that the people should be subject to the ruling authorities, even if those authorities might appear, on the surface, to be unjust. Or, it could mean that the people should pay the emperor while recognizing God’s greater demand of loyalty.[6]

This third option is the most convincing – at least, to me. Jesus is saying that “a tax can be paid without payment being a vote of support for Rome.”[7] I mean, when was the last time your tax dollars went to pay for something that you didn’t like? And yet, as residents and citizens of this country, we are required to pay what the law requires. But this does not mean that we cannot or should not have other loyalties. . . higher loyalties.

The example that Jesus sets is one of another loyalty – a higher loyalty to God and God’s kingdom. For Jesus, this means that yes, death and taxes might be sure things, but really the ultimate certain and sure thing, in the end, is the sovereign power of God and God’s kingdom. And, for us, too, yes, death and taxes might be sure things in this world, but, as people of faith, this world isn’t the only world we live in. As one commentator writes, “Disciples, who live in God’s world and Rome’s world, are challenged to live faithfully to God “in both” worlds until Jesus returns to establish God’s empire over all.”[8]

In other words, when it comes to living in these United States in 2021, there are a lot of people and ideas vying for our loyalty – from the talking heads on TV to nationalism to authoritarianism to capitalism to environmentalism or just about any kind of “-ism” from “racism” to “woke-ism.” And there are a lot of zealots and fundamentalists out there calling for complete allegiance to one thing or another, be it the flag, or political party, or fossil fuels, or vaccination status, or. . . you get the idea. And some folks are content to place their loyalties in stuff like this and think that it gives them value or meaning as people. Yes, we do live in this world and we might think our loyalties are uncontaminated by anything impure or anything that goes against the party line. But those who put their faith in the systems and structures that are made by human hands and ideas open themselves to the human imperfections that are built right into the DNA of those systems and structures. Some things like our own Constitution might seem permanent, but Benjamin Franklin knew otherwise. Systems and structures are fragile and can fail. In other words, you can’t count on any of these things, completely. They aren’t a sure thing. . .

But God is. God is the sure thing. The love of God is the sure thing, the power of God is the sure thing, the hope that God offers us is the sure thing, the healing wholeness of God is the sure thing, the peace of God is the sure thing, the callof God to lives of faith and faithfulness is the sure thing – above and beyond all other things.

I wonder how Jesus would respond if he heard Ben Franklin say the thing about being certain about “death and taxes.” What would Jesus do? I imagine that if he heard that nothing is certain but death, Jesus might respond by saying, “Well, yes, but not for long. Definitely not forever.”

And, if Jesus heard that nothing is certain but taxes, I imagine him saying, “Give to the emperor the things that belong to the emperor – the things that do not last or, in the end, do not matter all that much. But, people of God – children of the Most High – give to God the things that belong to God – give your whole self over to the One who offers you abundant life, and love, and power, and hope, and healing, and peace. . . the One who is calling you even now to generously offer more and more of yourself in ways that are sure and certain, ways that are just, and kind, and humble, and loving.” These are the sure and certain things found in the kingdom of God – the sure and certain building blocks of God’s kingdom, a kingdom founded – right here before our very eyes amidst the tottering empires of this world – on the sure and certain love and abundant life of God.

Friends, give to God the things that belong to God for the building of God’s kingdom – a higher loyalty, a deep generosity, and a wide love for God and all of God’s children. God asks much of us. But, as Jesus says, “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded.” (Luke 12:48)

The only sure thing in life is that God is always pouring out grace upon grace on us. And yet, this gracious God helps us, by the Holy Spirit, to rise and respond to this grace with faith and hope and love, and with glad and generous hearts.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

-------

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_and_taxes_(idiom)

[2] https://www.cbsnews.com/news/income-tax-wealthy-bezos-buffett/.

[3] See 1 Corinthians 10:23-.

[4] Paraphrased, JHS.

[5] Leviticus 25:23.

[6] Warren Carter, Matthew and the Margins: A Sociopolitical and Religious Reading (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 2000) 440.

[7] Warren Carter, 440.

[8] Warren Carter, 440.

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turistprinro · 6 years

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The village was recorded in 1584. The wooden church, under the spiritual protection of the Holy Archangels, was moved to the present site, named Dealul Carjii, in 1810, having been brought from Suciu de Jos.

The simple rectangular construction has a square apse narrower than the rest of the church. The single span roof covers the entire structure, while the eaves are lowered more than usual.

The oak walls have double Loints at the corners. In the upper part, short brackets support a very high roof truss, covered with zinc-plated sheets.

The bell-tower rises above the pronaos; and it is covered with shingles up to the watch-tower. Its parapet is hidden by boards decorated with triangular fretwork. The balcony is supported by eight short pillars fixed to the upper corona by braces. On top the ﬂared steeple is rounded at its pinnacle, and is covered with zinc-plated sheets.

The entrance door, placed on the southern side, has a massive frame made of oak, decorated with rosettes, which are partly reserved. The arched door panel has an applied, decoration, in the shape of a wreath, on its upper part.

The Holy Doors are painted with the Holy Spirit, symbolized, by a dove, on both panels. In the lower part there are the four Evangelists, with no other decorations.

The Deacon’s doors are painted with the Annunciation on the right and the Holy Archangels on the left.

The sidewalls of the nave reserve a beautiful scene painted like a rug, with the motif of the cross, enclosed between rhombus-shaped frames. There is no other evidence of ainting.

White stars on a blue background can be seen on the vault and on the Iconostasis.

The Sanctuary does not house religious objects except for two beautiful wardrobes, where the priest keeps his clothes. These are painted with bunches of flowers and with Angels with two heads. There is also a painted wooden cross on both sides.

Boereni wooden church, general view

BOERENI wooden church, Tg. Lapus, Maramures, Romania The village was recorded in 1584. The wooden church, under the spiritual protection of the Holy Archangels, was moved to the present site, named Dealul Carjii, in 1810, having been brought from Suciu de Jos.

#Boereni #Lapus #Maramures #Romania #Tg. Lapus #tourism #tourist #turist #turistprinro

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leviathansloft · 3 years

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Nations of Naramen: [Classified - Class 5]

The beginning of a new age

Name:

Grania

Location:

Tylarian continent

Gov't type:

Imperial Parliamentary

Reign:

2492(IC)-2651(IC) (current day)

Current leader:

Emperor Salice

Raised from a Solian noble family, Emperor Karelia, though that would not be her title just yet, saw how those from other towns were forced to relocate after tribal raids and colony land disputes. By the age of twenty-five, she decided that law was needed in this Cycle of War. Along with sixteen other families, she began to unify neighboring towns that were angry to be governed by a foreign government that was not protecting them. By 37 AHL (2492 IC) Karelia had gathered the support of another thirteen noble families. With its allies, the Granian forces had gained control of the islands of Bracket Bay and her peninsula, it also controlled Eagle Cape and the lands stretching towards Lake Perenery. After another nine years of war, where Emperor Karelia managed to gain the support of the church of the Heavenly Family. Due to a now rearmed Grania peace was declared, and the Cycle of Recovery was declared by the Heavenly Families head priest, who chose three families to give up their name and become clans, granted a voice and vote in the Imperial Council. Emperor Karelia built infrastructure and defenses from bandits, tribals, and foreign nations until Grania became the most well-fed country of Tylaria, and one of the most secure. unfortunately, she grew sick in 48 AHL and passed shortly after where Emperor David was appointed as the new emperor at the age of thirty-five.

Governing system:

The Granian Empire is led by its emperor, chosen by the 32 clans, from the 32 clans. Each clan was once a critical supporter of the first emperor. As they joined Grania's council they were to give up their names and solidify their families as their new position so that their loyalty would be to Grania first. The emperor is usually chosen from the second born or lower, only in an emergency has an Emperor ever been the heir to their clan seat, this being Emperor Michael I.

Below the Imperial council, made up of the Emperor and the 32 clans, is the People's Pit.

Each town when granded a city charter is given one noble seat to fill within a year. They will be granted an estate along with the supplies and structures outlined in the charter. The noble would then become responsible for the city in it's dealings, should the city grow the government will divide up the city, and have nobles appointed to the new districts.

The Pit is where these nobles gather to discuss the Grania's policies, though do not be confused, though they are granted a voice in the Imperial Council, it is only a voice, they do not hold a vote in policy.

#worldbuilding #Grania #Naramen

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we-are-monk · 6 years

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Warrior Monks

One inspiration for the Monk class outside of Chinese inspired martial arts fiction is the historical idea of the warrior monk. Militant members of religious organizations exist in almost as many places as there are religious organizations, and monastic communities are no exceptions to the call to arms.

The sōhei and yamabushi are two Japanese concepts of the warrior monks. Militant Buddhists existed in Japan though the Heian period (794 to 1185) all the way into the Muromachi (1336–1573, ending with the Tokugawa Shogunate.) For centuries, they were a force in politics that became famous and at times reviled. [This is mostly written like a research essay, with my editorials in brackets and italicized. I’m going to be drawing comparisons to Western Christianity periodically, because I am specialized in European history and not really a scholar of Buddhism. This is gonna have less sources than I’d usually use too, since it’s a blog post.]

The Buddhist Monk Unlike in the Latin Church, the monk and the priest do not have the delineated differences between their roles. Both monks and priests can be ordained or authorized to perform liturgical rites. Of special importance [to this blog] is the position of women, who were also able to perform rites, despite the role of the nun being problematic at times. Monasteries from the Heian often had sister convents. [Because I organized monasteries by doctrine and downplayed any sexist baggage, I wrote a monastery where the male and female buildings share a campus and a hierarchy. Equality is more fun.] Though some Buddhist scriptures placed nuns in a junior position to monks regardless of seniority, others restricted how able monks were to subordinate nuns. Often, nuns were able to exist, though nominally overseen by a male cleric, in their own physical and discoursive space with the male overseer off-site. Female theological writing tends to downplay sexist rhetoric and has highly sophisticated scholarship not derivative of their male counterparts. Nuns occasionally crossed into the faintly shamanistic territory of spirit channeling, ecstatic religion, and other esotera perhaps cross-pollinated from Shintō practice. [Here’s where monk runs into medium, shaman, or even cleric.]

If a distinction could be made between the monk and the priest, (especially in the context of those words and how they’re borrowed from Christian practice), we can say that a priest was situated amongst layfolk and a monk was in a monastic community. Not that monks didn’t have contact with the secular world; monks and nuns often came from the nobility and in the Heian period monks served certain administrative as well as spiritual roles. It was not until later that reforms, taken in part from certain China-trained individuals, who sought to return the monks to a “purer” form of Buddhism from the continent.

Buddhism was introduced into Japan as early as the sixth century and in the seventh, laws from the Imperial court “prohibited monks and nuns from stealing, killing, keeping or reading military manuals, forming rambunctious bands,and receiving donations of serfs, oxen, horses or weapons.” [I’ve done most of those, but at least nobody ever donated me a serf.]

The yamabushi comes from the tradition of Shugendō, a syncretic religion containing elements of esoteric Buddhism, Shintō, and Daoism. The shugenja, or yamabushi is a mystic. [Shugenja in the Legend of the Five Rings setting is a type of caster, I believe, but let’s ignore that for now.] Interestingly, the “bushi” is not written with the character for warrior but instead means “to prostrate one’s self.” Through asceticism, the human, who already contains “beast” or “doglike” aspects, can ascend to a more Buddhalike state. Socially, they existed both high and low in the spiritual hierarchy. This association with the holy places of mountains is key, as is the idea of being both sub- and super- human. They performed ascetic practices like meditating under waterfalls, hanging over cliffs, and firewalking. Climbing the mountain allows absolute focus on the laws and practices.

Yamabushi have power attributed to them even while thy suffer from contempt and distrust from the less esoteric community. They are associated thus with the tengu, a type of spirit creature. “Tengu” is written with the characters for “heaven” and “dog”; the crowlike yōkai carry the same power, demihumanity, and the sinister, protective, and at times comical reputation of the yamabushi. Becoming tengu is a punishment for evil monks, or a task undertaken by monks who wish to protect their temples. This reflects the frequent need for yamabushi to become warriors.

Becoming militant

At first, the rise of sōhei were attributed both to “deformed” Buddhism and to “privately ordained” monks, i.e. monks and nuns who declared themselves ascetics instead of being part of a religious or secular hierarchy. [Compare this to western Beguines, perhaps, who also declared themselves lay nuns in the absence of a hierarchy willing to take them?] They didn’t have the best reputation, as both secular sources and more established monastics condemned them in writing.

Warrior monks rose as either an increase in secular, former martially trained individuals entering the monastic community or the arming of layfolk associated with temples in order to resolve disputes (temple workers, bureaucrats). There are disputes by scholars as to why, but these theories state that monasteries had become militarized by the tenth century, in the late Heian period. Two more theories place the change as later, into the Kamakura period (1185–1333) , mostly by more strictly defining a sōhei as a monk who is trained in combat (rather than a warrior who takes vows or an armed monastic novice.)

It’s worth noting that despite many stereotypes and some scriptures against armed Buddhists the Chinese monasteries were armed as early as 446 CE and the Shaolin [maybe you’ve heard of these guys] became warriors in the early 7th century, fighting against the Sui. Korean Buddhists protected the Koryŏ dynasty. Buddhism has warrior deities and a concept of defending the faith against evil that seems to bleed from the deities to the clergy. Some of the most important defenses for the Korean Chosŏn dynasty against pirates in the fifteenth and sixteenth century, and against the sixteenth century invasion of Korea by the Hideyoshi armies, were the Korean warrior monks, sŭnggun. It's possible the Japanese sōhei comes directly from that word.

[You could, if you wanted, make a Buddhist-coded warrior on the paladin class if you liked. I find the overlap between the “divine” classes, (paladin, cleric, warpriest, inquisitor, shaman) and the monk to be interesting because logically speaking a monastery should have some of those thematically but not mechanically similar classes; people whose profession is ‘monk’ in addition to people whose character class is monk.]

Disputes over what makes a sōhei and whether individual or mass combats are needed to qualify are disputed by scholars [not that this blog finds it super important to understanding what sōhei are like.] More important is the assertion that the same factors that brought about a caste of secular bushi , the samurai,[maybe you’ve heard of those guys?] over the Insei period (1086-1185) brought us warrior monks.

Also, the term sōhei, though cool, is a derogatory and a little ahistorical; a contemporary term used was akusō, or evil monks. [Which is a cool term for, you know, villainous monks. Might use that for a dark monastery one day.] The term ransō, rowdy monk, is applied to monks who are either militant or simply unmonklike, though monks that take up arms in support of nobles were often conveniently forgotten instead of branded with that [awesome sounding] label. They were upbraided for being tonsured, evading taxes, and then continuing to eat meat, have children, and engage in riots.

The cowls worn by monks who wished to remain unknown (for sneaking around their own grounds for minor mischief, or even for lay nobles wanting to view exclusive ceremonies) became associated with monks who wore them to cause trouble. These cowls became a symbol of the armed monk in artist depictions. [They don’t seen historically common in battle for practical reasons but I’d recommend them on a fantasy character, since they’re, historically, visual shorthand for “this monk fights.”]

History of monastic warfare

By the tenth century monks from different lineages were hostile enough to one another to begin using swords and staves for protection (or attacks on one another.) Monks began to brawl over control of key temples. By the twelfth century, monks were beginning to solve factional differences not by skirmishes but by larger battles and by the thirteenth monks could be considered forces of professional warriors. Interference in monastic disputes by secular armies helped to blur the lines between disputes. Rebellions over nobles keeping control of the upper ranks of monasteries from the monks of lower-class origin were also common. [Like western monasteries, these temples controlled territories and relied on the support of those regions.] Thus, battles over land with other temples or with Shintō shrines were common. Some Shintō shrines were instead allied with temples, contributing to the factionalism.

The Hōgen Incident marked an increase from about 1180 on (the Genpei war) of monks aiding secular warrior factions. The infamous akusō Shinjitsu staged a coup against the Emperor Go-Shirakawa in favor of Retired Emperor Sutoku. Attempts were made, in between enlisting temple forces for power struggles, to ban armed clergy. Since by the Kamakura monks were largely subject to their own rules, this relied heavily on temples pledging to enforce disarmament on themselves. Complicating the matter was a confusion between workers who had Buddhist vows, tonsures and robes, but lead secular lives, and monks who were also scholars and priests. The term bōjin, worker, refers to the individuals, some with vows, but not full-fledged clerics, who performed tasks about temple grounds. Usually opposed to monastic violence were gakushō, educated monks, usually of higher class origin and more associated with the conservative traditions of the temples. Hosshi, cleric, is used to refer to any monk ordained enough to perform rituals, contrasting with the bōjin. [A player character might be the very cool term kyakusō, meaning itinerant monk.] Many of these people would take Buddhist names, but also wives. It’s possible the term yama hosshi refers to the shugenja.

So we have unordained vs. ordained, lower class vs. upper class, and other terms representing different categories of monks. The confusion between different types of person who, to the layfolk, are all just monks, contributes to the stereotype of all monks as martial warriors. To a random scholar or samurai, a monk who was formerly a samurai, a monk who learned the sword to fight other monks over which sutra to chant, and a warrior who was hired by monks all look the same.

The rise of the bakufu, the military government and the ascendancy of the shōgun in the fourteenth century increased the amount of lower class people who would bear arms. New sects of populist bands uniting under Buddhist teachings formed. By the Sengoku period (The famed age of warfare and samurai from 1467 to c.1603) there was little restrictions on who could be armed and more incentive for monks to be so. Sōhei fought much like samurai did, albeit sometimes in robes and cowl. They wore armor and were associated with the naginata (though they used the same broad range of weapons as secular warriors.) They built barricades and used shield walls. Some were even skilled at horseback archery.

[There is an archetype in Pathfinder for the monk that gives you exactly this. In another edition, if you want to play a more historical monk I would dip into fighter.]

The Ikki and the Sengoku Jidai

An ikki or "league" was a sworn group of like-minded individuals, usually warriors. Some formed between low-status samurai who needed the backup, or the tokusei ikki who formed to attack debt collectors and burn ledgers [anyone up to form one of those?]

One of the most famous sects of warrior monks, especially into the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries was the Ikkō ikki of Hongan-ji. They believed in a populist movement of Buddhism, called Jōdo Shinshū, or Pure Land. They believed in redemption through worship of the Amida Buddha and followed the teachings of their patriarch Shinran (1173-1262) and his successors. They were by the fourteenth century a collection of loose lineages of practices. The sect managed to acquire power using a tactic usually only available to samurai and nobles: marriage alliances. Members of this sect encouraged marriage rather than enforcing typical Buddhist celibacy. More importantly, they encouraged the chanting of their chief mantra/prayer to the exclusion of more expensive rituals. Women within Shinran's line served both to secure marriage alliances and to help guard orthodoxy as administrators in their own right.

Amida Buddhism was more accessible to common folk. This caused conflicts with more traditional sects like Enryaku-ji who objected to the exclusion, their loss of followers, or what they perceived as heresy; they sent their own warrior monks to attack Hongan-ji in 1465. Even after winning the war and making the Hongan-ji a branch temple they still came into military conflict with them over territorial, secular reasons. The defense against attacks lead to the formation of the first Ikkō ikki.

Buddhists, like those from Hongan-ji and other temples treasured their tax exemption status, called shugo funyū or “warlord exception.” This could range from “right to collect taxes instead of the local lord”, to “right to bar all samurai from your territory.” Understandably, this was a cause of tension between monks and secular authorities. Villages called jinaichō, temple towns formed, some with the authorization of the temples and the nobles, and others on their own simply for tax evasion purposes (the theme of “pretending to be a monk to avoid taxes” reaches an entire town.)

An Ikkō ikki formed in 1475 to back a shugo candidate; post Ōnin war they happened more and more to aid secular warriors, with sometimes a flimsy rationale like "the enemy is affiliated with a rival Amida branch." These ikki began to fall under the authority of the patriarch, until by 1525 it was possible for an Ikkō ikki to be called and the patriarch to command his monks like.a daimyō might his soldiers.

Sectarian violence and secular violence often intertwined. The Nichiren sect, who followed the Lotus sutra and were opposed to the Amida, formed ikki for similar reasons to the Hongan-ji. In 1532 the deputy shōgun asked Hongan-ji to aid in a battle against his secular rivals, beginning the Tenbun war. During the campaign, they attacked the Kōfuku-ji, a traditional temple who more conservative secular military supported. So the Nichiren ikki was called to help put down the rampaging Ikkō ikki. Now, the Nichiren administrated much of Kyōto for a time until deputy shōgun convinced Enryaku-ji to attack them. There is a real sense of attempts by the secular lords to play these rival schools against one another, and occasional moments where that fails utterly and causes something like the Tenbun war, which didn’t end until 1535.

As the Sengoku period came to a close, some of the era’s most famous samurai began some of the most famous campaigns against the warrior monks. Tokugawa Ieyasu, before he even had that name, was at war with the Hongan-ji in Mikawa in 1563. Like Nobunaga after him, his goal was unification and consolidation. To that end, he needed money, and so attempted to tax four Hongan-ji temples that were previously immune. This would not be the first not the last time war began due to a samurai ignoring funyū rights. Ieyasu faced both monks and retainers, secular samurai and jizamurai, (warriors of a lower class than samurai,) who used the opportunity to oppose him. Ieyasu was able to force a surrender, under the conditions that the temples “remain as they were.” He wanted them to convert to another sect, but they refused. So he destroyed the temples, claiming, “originally they were fields, so let them be fields as they were before.” [This blog does not approve of the destruction of temples, even if you have a line that coldblooded to mic-drop with.] He was less vicious towards the sects that supported him, like the Nichiren.

Oda Nobunaga’s war against the Ikkō Ikki began much the same way, in 1569-70, he entered Kyōto in triumph and began to tax the Hongan-ji, who were by then widespread, powerful, and not a thing Nobunaga could tolerate. He wanted sole control, after all. His tax on Ōsaka forced them into action. An advantage the Hongan-ji had over a daimyō was that their ikki were drawn from temples in multiple locations and across multiple social classes(not just monks.) So it was difficult to crush them in one go. The Patriarch justified this by noting that Nobunaga’s ambitions threatened not just the privilege of the temples and their leadership but the hope for rebirth in the Pure Land of every temple member killed, as well as that of the entire sect should a victorious Nobunaga force them to convert. “Advance and be reborn in paradise. Retreat and fall immediately into hell.”

Even with support from anti-Nobunaga daimyō and the nobles from court that the Hongan-ji sect had intermarried with, their defeat came in 1580. Oda Nobunaga was unable to assimilate the ikki, not while they clearly had greater loyalty to their sect over their lords; Ieyasu’s battle at Mikawa had shown that. [It’s possible that this was the reason for the post-unification ban on Christianity; fear that Christians would be more loyal to an invading Christian force than a daimyō, just as the Hongan-ji and Nichiren placed religious loyalty first.] The men who unified Japan went out of their way to end the age of militant Buddhism.

In the late sixteenth century at and after the end of the Sengoku period, the temple of Hōzōin at Kōfuku-ji took up the spear as its martial art much like the secular schools of combat that arose in the era. This is an example of the legacy of the warrior monk being tamed for a more modern Japan.

Abe, Yasurō, 阿部泰郎, and Nobuko Toyosawa. "THE BOOK OF "TENGU": GOBLINS, DEVILS, AND BUDDHAS IN MEDIEVAL JAPAN." Cahiers D'Extrême-Asie 13 (2002): 211-26.

Adolphson, Mikael S. 2007. The teeth and claws of the Buddha : monastic warriors and sōhei in Japanese history. n.p.: Honolulu : University of Hawai'i Press, 2007

Rambelli, Fabio. "’Dog-men,’ Craftspeople, or Living Buddhas? The Status of Yamabushi in Pre-modern Japanese Society." Cahiers D'Extrême-Asie 18 2009: 123-37.

Swanson, Paul L. "Shugendo and the Yoshino-Kumano Pilgrimage: An Example of Mountain Pilgrimage." Monumenta Nipponica 36, no. 1 (1981): 55-84

Tsang, Carol Richmond. War and faith: ikkō ikki in late Muromachi Japan. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2007

Meeks, Lori Rachelle. Hokkeji and the reemergence of female monastic orders in premodern Japan. n.p.: Honolulu : University of Hawai'i Press, 2010.

#warrior monks #monk #buddhism #monks in history #shugendo #tengu #yamabushi #sohei #heian #kamakura #muromachi #japanese history

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sapphicscholar · 6 years

Note

Hey, can you write a fic where Eliza Wilke realizes years later that she's gay and she tracks Maggie down to apologize cause she finally realizes just how much she hurt her and her life?

Hey, I just posted this chapter to AO3 here

A/N: Slightly nsfw at the beginning, then angst, CW for mentions of past homophobia and internalized homophobia

Also, some of this is written from Eliza’s point of view. I know she doesn’t always get the most sympathetic portrayal in fanfic, but I think hers (at least as it’s prompted here) is also a story worth telling. I think—and maybe I’m projecting—a lot of us have been Eliza, even if the consequences of our actions haven’t been nearly so dire. And maybe it’s just me who sent apology letters like this that were far too many years overdue, but I suspect that there’s something here that just might resonate for others too.

Chapter Text:

Maggie squinted down at her screen, pulling up the same notification that had been blinking up at her all day, constantly drawing her attention back to her phone, to her computer, to the memory of it. She’d gotten very little work done, pulled into focus only for a car chase that was over much too soon.

“Whatcha looking at?” Alex asked, leaning over and wrapping her arms around Maggie from behind. She kissed her cheek and brought her hands up to Maggie’s shoulders. “You feel tense.”

“I’m sure you could help with that,” Maggie flirted, closing her laptop and standing up from the desk. “Why don’t we head into the bedroom and find some way to relax together…”

“Mm, you know I’ll still want to know what happened today to make you this stressed, right?” Alex murmured, even as she dropped her lips to Maggie’s neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there. She smiled as she felt Maggie shudder, felt her breath catch as she let out a small gasp when Alex’s teeth found her pulse point.

“But bed now?” Maggie managed, unwilling to deal with this conversation at the moment and very much in need of a distraction to drive it from her thoughts.

“I suppose…” Alex trailed off, a teasing smile playing at her lips. With a bend of her knees and a swift movement, Alex scooped Maggie up into her arms and carried her over to the bedroom. Maggie’s squeak of surprise quickly morphed into a needy whimper as Alex slid a warm hand up Maggie’s shirt and flexed her abs, urging Maggie to grind against her. Rather than taking Maggie straight to the bed, Alex turned and brought them over to the wall, pushing Maggie up against it and groaning as Maggie hooked her legs around Alex’s waist, drawing her closer as she claimed her lips in a searing kiss that left them both gasping for air.

Feeling Maggie shifting in her arms, desperately trying to find friction, and hearing the steady stream of needy whimpers just barely stifled when she dragged her teeth across Maggie’s lower lip, Alex pulled back. Before she could ask what Maggie wanted, the other woman was gasping out an order: “Bed. Now.”

With a look of pure want, Alex pivoted and crossed the room in two long strides, tossing Maggie down into the pillows and quickly joining her, bracketing her with arms as she leaned over and flicked her tongue across Maggie’s lower lip, begging for entrance.

Eventually Alex grew impatient and tugged at Maggie’s jeans. “Off?”

Maggie nodded, helping to expedite the process by shimmying them over her hips and down her legs, biting her lip as Alex cast a hungry gaze down at her. Alex hooked her fingers beneath the waistband of Maggie’s boyshorts and slipped them off and down her legs. She dropped to her stomach and trailed teasing kisses and gentle bites up and down Maggie’s inner thighs until Maggie’s fingers tangled in her hair and urged her toward her dripping center.

Deciding there had already been enough teasing, Alex dipped her head down and flicked her tongue between Maggie’s folds, groaning at just how wet she already was. “You taste so good,” she murmured.

Maggie’s grip tightened in Alex’s hair at her words. It had taken a while to get Alex comfortable with really speaking up in bed, but god, when she did…

Maggie let her head drop to the pillow and her eyes flutter closed as Alex worked her up, pushing her higher and higher—but with her eyes closed, all she could picture was the blinking red notifications, the reminders of a past that apparently refused to stay in the past. Shaking her head, she tried to focus in on the moment, to be here with Alex, her very sexy girlfriend who was doing amazing things with her tongue that were apparently not going to have any effect until she dealt with her stress. With a loud sigh, Maggie dragged herself up onto her elbows. “Why do you think Eliza Wilkie sent me a message request on Facebook?”

Alex pulled back, her mouth sticky and an eyebrow arched. “I’m going to assume sex is over?”

“Sorry! I just…I don’t think anything is going to work until I know.”

“Well…did you open the message?”

Maggie shook her head.

“Do you think maybe you should try accepting it to see?”

“Just—I mean, why? Why, after more than 15 years does she suddenly care?”

“Do you really think she didn’t care all those years?” Alex asked, pulling herself up the bed to settle in next to Maggie.

“She’s the reason—the reason for, you know,” Maggie trailed off, finally giving up with a shrug of her shoulders. She had never been one to dwell on all the ways that things could have turned out differently—it wouldn’t change anything; it could only ever upset her—but Eliza’s message had sent her spiraling back into her own past, to all those what ifs she’d tried to suppress for so long now.

“But does she know? Did she know? I’m not defending her—god knows I’d love a chance to go back to Blue Springs and ruin the lives of everyone who made yours a living hell. But I can’t help but think…I don’t know, what would it mean if I reached out to Vicky after all these years? It’s not the same! Not at all. We hurt each other, but not in that same immediate kind of way. But I just, I guess that I’d hope that even after all these years, she’d at least listen to what I had to say, even if she didn’t want to forgive me or try to go back to what we had or anything like that.”

“I—I want to know. I want—I don’t know exactly what I want. I want her to be sorry. I want her to realize that even if she didn’t mean for my parents to find out, for the whole fucking town to find out, that’s what happened. And I had to go through it all alone. She didn’t have to say yes; she didn’t have to like me back; but it would’ve been nice if she—if she didn’t just leave me,” Maggie finished, her voice cracking as she rubbed roughly at her eyes.

“Oh, Maggie, I know,” Alex whispered, wrapping her arms around Maggie and holding her close. “And you don’t have to open her message. You don’t have to respond. But I think, well, if tonight was any indication, I think you need to figure out what you want to do about it, even if it means deleting it.”

“You mean you don’t want to talk about it during sex again?” Maggie joked, trying for lighthearted.

“You know, it wasn’t my favorite form of dirty talk.”

An almost full carton of vegan ice cream and a glass of wine later, Maggie sat in bed with her laptop, Facebook open, mouse hovering above the message icon. She knew Alex was right; she wouldn’t rest until she’d made up her mind about what she was going to do with Eliza’s message. And deep down she knew that if she deleted it, she’d always wonder, always want to know if maybe something had changed over the years, if maybe some part of her felt guilty for the way she’d treated Maggie, the girl who was supposed to be her best friend, all those years ago.

With one swift motion, Maggie clicked and squeezed her eyes shut, finally forcing them to open as she let out a shuddering exhale.

Hey Mags (or maybe it should be Maggie? I probably don’t deserve to call you Mags anymore…),

This message is so, so many years overdue. I didn’t—I tried. I started this message a lot. I tried it as a letter a few times, but I didn’t know where to send it. So I thought about Facebook. Sorry, these sound like excuses. There aren’t any excuses. None that make up for what happened, for how I let you disappear from my life without putting up a fight. I guess I should start with the two words I’ve wanted to say to you for the past 15 or so years: I’m sorry. They don’t erase anything that happened, I know, but I just…they’re true.

I don’t know that you want to relive any of what happened, so maybe skip this part…I don’t know. If you don’t want to read it, maybe just skip to the bottom?

I got your card, and it was sweet, but I was scared. I didn’t know how to feel about it, and at 14 everything that you don’t understand just feels like the biggest deal, like…like everything could come crashing down around you at any point in time. And so I did what I always did—I went to my big sister. She was cool, you know, at least that’s what I thought. She was 18 and knew about things like boys and makeup and didn’t rat us out that time she found us with dad’s cigarettes. And I figured if anyone would know about these things, it was her.

But I guess…well, she wasn’t okay or cool or chill when it came to gay people, and she took the card straight to my parents—never told me what she was doing. And then they called your parents and came down to the basement and told me I was never seeing you again. And they were, god, I just—I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you. Because my dad thought I was perfectly innocent and even then I got yelled at for hours, sent to a priest and taken to extra services down at St. Mary’s. And you—well, you disappeared.

Eventually word spread about what had happened. Part of me didn’t believe it. I knew that our parents were angry, but I never really thought—well, I never thought it would be like that. I thought they’d get over it. That you’d show up to school a week or two later like that time you were gone for almost a week after your dad caught you sneaking out of the garage with his whiskey. So I didn’t try to call. And then weeks stretched into months, and still you weren’t there. But at that point…well, I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’d forced myself to get over it. I heard what everyone was saying about you—the kids, the parents. The few people that tried to say you were just a kid and didn’t know better—god, the town was ready to tar and feather them too. And I didn’t think I was strong enough. You’d been forced to be strong enough, but you were always the brave one out of the two of us. I just…I sat back and acted like you hadn’t been my best friend, like I hadn’t loved you more than anyone else in that bumblefuck town.

My dad threw out all of our pictures and stuff, but I kept that bucket list we made in the back of my copybook huddled together during Mrs. Sanders’ English class. It had all the places we wanted to go—the things we wanted to see. I saw on Facebook that you got out and ended up in California. It always was the first place on your half of the list. Did you drive there and eat Red Vines and blast Destiny’s Child the whole way there like you’d planned? I hope you did. You deserve it—you deserve to accomplish every dream that seemed like a lifetime away on that list.

Anyway, I’m going to be in California just half an hour or so away from National City for a conference this week, and I thought—I don’t know, it’s probably stupid. But I’d like to see you, Mags. I don’t have a right to ask or to think that you might say yes, but it’d be really nice to apologize in person, to see the amazing woman you grew up to become even if…even though I wasn’t the best friend you thought I could be for you.

I’m on Facebook or you can call me at 402-767-1349. I hope you’re doing well, Maggie.

Eliza

—

Alex found Maggie in the bedroom tears streaking down her cheeks as she read and reread the message. “Do you need anything?”

Sniffling, Maggie shook her head, looking up at Alex through watery eyes. “No, no, you’re good.” With a shaky breath, Maggie shut her laptop and gently placed it on the bedside table. “If it’s okay with you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course. Anything you need.”

Maggie nodded and held up the covers for Alex to join her, dropping her head to Alex’s shoulder as she curled into her side, letting herself be held and comforted like she could have used all those years ago.

—

Eliza tapped her foot nervously against the bricks, pressing her back into the wrought iron chair and letting the cool firmness, the slight twinge of discomfort, ground her. She checked her phone again, checking that it was still early, that she hadn’t gotten any messages. It was still just the single one: “Coffee. 3pm on Saturday at Noonan’s?” She’d quickly agreed, but the only confirmation she got in return was the small checkmark indicating her message had been read. She wondered if Maggie would show up. She certainly wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. She hadn’t really expected a response. All the times she’d ever drafted something before, she’d deleted them, too scared of the indictment she deserved, too nervous that somehow she’d end up fucking up Maggie’s life yet again.

As she looked down at her phone once again, she saw a pair of boots step in front of her, followed by the sound of a throat being cleared. She snapped her head up, finding Maggie Sawyer—her best friend, if a little taller and with a much better fashion sense—standing in front of her. “Maggie! Um, hey.”

“Hey,” Maggie greeted with a small wave, stepping back awkwardly as Eliza rose to her feet.

“I, um, I got you coffee—or well, I got you your usual. I don’t know if it’s your usual anymore. I just, um, I know it used to be your favorite. But I guess, I mean, people change. I don’t know. Here,” she finally said, thrusting the cup to Maggie.

Maggie glanced down at the sleeve, finding the markings for a vanilla soy chai tea latte. “Thanks.”

“Is it, um, is it okay? I can get you something else?”

“It’s good.” She sipped at it as if to demonstrate that she was okay with it.

“Okay, cool,” Eliza nodded, drumming her fingers against the side of her leg before grabbing the other cup on the table and busying herself with picking at the sleeve.

“Do you want to walk?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure.”

Eliza followed as Maggie led them down a few blocks until they got to a park with a small path that wound around the perimeter. As they fell into step with one another—Eliza tried not to dwell on how they used to spend days down by the track trying to match each other perfectly or be the exact opposite; it was how they always won the three-legged races—Eliza spoke up. I guess, well, maybe not, but, um, you saw my Facebook message?”

“I did,” Maggie confirmed, her gaze trained straight ahead.

“Right, well, I just wanted to say—I wanted to say how sorry I am. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen, but I know, I know it’s my fault. We were best friends; I should have asked you.”

“You said it yourself; you were confused.” Maggie shrugged her shoulders, biting at her lip as she tried to look nonchalant.

“Yeah—I was. But I never meant—I didn’t mean for it to end up like that. But that’s not an excuse.” When Maggie didn’t say anything, Eliza forced herself to keep talking. “I should have tried harder to find you after.”

“Would’ve been pretty hard to find me—wasn’t exactly down the street anymore.”

Eliza winced. “I know, I know. I biked past your house a few times—after, you know. Your light was never on.”

Maggie nodded, gritting her teeth as she tried not to let her emotions get the best of her.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone, Maggie. I’m so sorry I wasn’t the friend you needed, the friend you thought you had.”

“Thank you,” Maggie finally managed.

With those two words, Eliza let herself break just a little. And when Maggie pulled up short, pulling her into a hug that was certainly nothing like the bone-crushing ones they’d once shared but was more than she’d ever imagined she would have again, she felt a sob heave its way through her chest, and when she felt warm, wet drops on her shoulder, felt the shudder that racked Maggie’s small frame, she pulled her closer, willing the embrace to somehow make up for years of lost time.

“On your left!” came the cry of an older woman on a bright blue bicycle—her basket filled with groceries and a small bouquet of wildflowers.

With a watery chuckle, Maggie motioned to the bench a few feet up the path. “Maybe we should sit?”

Once they had settled in on the bench, Eliza began, “So,” just as Maggie asked, “Why—?”

“Sorry, you go,” Eliza gestured.

“I was just going to ask how the conference was going.”

“Oh, um, yeah…it’s okay,” Eliza answered with a small chuckle. “It’s not the most fun I’ve ever had in my life, but it’s a beautiful state.”

“Yeah, I won’t complain.”

“Have you been here long?”

“No, I was in Gotham for a while until I made it out here about two years ago.”

“Following the superheroes?” Eliza teased, hoping it was okay to do so.

“Something like that.”

“Have you met the Girl of Steel?”

Maggie laughed, thinking of how Kara had spent the night at their apartment, lounging around in a novelty Supergirl snuggie Winn had gotten her for the DEO’s holiday Pollyanna while shoving inhuman amounts of pizza into her mouth. “I have—work and all.”

“That’s so cool,” Eliza gushed. “Now, I know that meeting Superman was on your bucket list, but does this count?”

“How do you have such a good memory of that list?” Maggie asked. Sure, she remembered a fair amount about freshman year of high school, but she thought she had a pretty good reason for it.

Eliza blushed a faint pink as she reached into her bag and dug out her wallet. Maggie looked on quizzically as she dug through and pulled out a graying, square. Eliza deftly unfolded it, carefully smoothing out the creases as she handed it over.

“You kept this? After all those years?”

“I’d been a shitty enough friend to abandon you once. I couldn’t do it twice.” Eliza chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked for a reaction, wondering if she’d gone too far. But then Maggie’s gaze dropped back to the paper as she skimmed the list, her mouth finally breaking into a smile that lit up her features.

“So, did you ever get to see Britney Spears in concert?” Maggie asked, barely covering the laugh in her voice.

“Tragically I did not.”

“Shame…I did make my roadtrip to California, so I’m winning 1-0 now.”

“But the important part is obviously the snack list. Did you get your Red Vines?”

“Yep, and a whole tub of Oreos—all the surprisingly vegan snack staples.” She shook her head as she made her way further down the list. “Now, did you ever make it out to Broadway?”

“That I did, thank you very much.”

“Important follow up: did you act on Broadway?”

“That dream was abandoned. Alas, I ended up a mere high school teacher, though I supervise the drama club, so it’s basically the same thing.”

“Basically.”

Eliza let out a snort of amusement. “Now what about you? Did you play professional women’s soccer?”

“I slept with a professional women’s soccer forward. Does that count?”

“I mean, this list was all about our biggest dreams. I can only imagine that idea might have been a recurrent dream…or at least a fantasy,” Eliza teased, watching as the last layer of defensiveness in Maggie’s posture seemed to fall away.

“It was pretty great,” Maggie agreed. “Your turn. Did you ever…let’s see… Oh! Did you marry Justin Timberlake and spend your honeymoon in the Bahamas?”

With a dramatic sigh, Eliza shook her head. “No, JT and I just couldn’t make it work. Though I did spend my honeymoon down in Turks and Caicos, so I think maybe I get some points.”

“Well congratulations on the wedding! Who is the lucky guy? Anyone from back home?”

Eliza swallowed harshly, shaking her head. “No, uh, definitely not from back home.”

“Eh, you could do better than any of those jackasses anyway.”

“Yeah, um, I think I did.”

“So meet in college?”

“Yeah, senior year. She was one of the grad students in the department.”

“Wait, what?” Maggie asked.

“Her name is Gabriella.”

“You’re gay?”

“Funny how that worked out, huh?” Eliza tried for light, though her voice was strained as she waited for some reaction—anger, perhaps, or disgust with how long she’d spent denying it, spent playing straight, being accepted and getting to stay in Blue Springs with a family that loved her and friends that didn’t look at her with revulsion and fear.

“Wait—what? Why didn’t you open with that?” Maggie asked with a slightly incredulous bark of a laugh.

“I didn’t want you to think you had to forgive me or talk to me just because I ended up being gay too. I didn’t—I didn’t necessarily deserve that.”

“I,” Maggie paused, letting Eliza’s point sink in, “I appreciate that.”

“Yeah.” Eliza shrugged, waiting for Maggie to make the next move.

“So when’d you end up coming out?”

“Uh, senior year of college. It, um, took me a little bit to, uh, admit to certain things.”

“Hey, everyone comes out in their own time in their own way. There’s no shame in that. Not exactly like a lot of people make it feel particularly safe.”

“Yeah…I don’t know. I was taking a creative writing class. Gabriella was actually the TA, though she was only two years older. We had some prompt about a memory of a person who’d meant something to us, and I, well, I wrote about you. Got an A,” she added with a chuckle. “But, uh, during office hours—and god, I should have known I was gay when I was always the first in line for Gabriella’s office hours instead of wanting to meet with the actual professor who was assigning the grades—but she said something. She asked me if it was a memory of a first love.” She heard the catch in Maggie’s breathing but ignored it, looking down at her now empty coffee cup and picking at the lid. “I, well, I kind of panicked and mumbled something about needing to get to work. It wasn’t totally a lie… Anyway, I spent a couple of weeks avoiding her, but I couldn’t help thinking—maybe other people didn’t think about their friends the way I did. Maybe it wasn’t normal to want to hold your best friend’s hand and snuggle with her and spend all of your time together. Maybe my appreciation for beautiful women wasn’t just wanting to look like them or have their outfit or hair or whatever. I walked back and forth past the LGBTQ Center so many times, just trying to gather my courage to go in. Well, one day Gabriella was in there and happened to see me. So she came out and asked if maybe I wanted to get coffee with her—just to talk. She said she thought I could use a friend right now.”

“I’m glad you had someone.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t.”

“It’s—it’s in the past. It doesn’t do much good to dwell on things we can’t change.”

“Right, well, we got coffee, and I ended up blurting out that I thought she was really pretty and asked if that was normal.” Maggie snorted and tried to cover it up, only to find Eliza laughing right along with her. “No, you’re right. It was humiliating. She sort of sat me down and told me she could be there for me as a friend, but only as a friend—TA and all. Anyway, eventually I came out. Actually came out in my final writing piece for the semester.”

“Another A?”

“But of course,” Eliza joked. “So, a few months later—right around spring break time—I ran into her at the LGBTQ Center again. And she asked if I wanted to grab coffee. And, well, coffee one day turned into drinks the next, turned into dinner, turned into spending whole days curled up reading together while everyone else went home for break. And eventually I think I managed to convince her that it was worth a shot and that since she wasn’t my TA, she should have no ethical qualms about it.”

“That’s awesome, I’m so happy you found someone like her.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty amazing,” Eliza agreed, a dreamy expression on her face. “What about you? Still sleeping with all the professional athletes?”

“No, no,” Maggie shook her head. “I’ve settled down—engaged, actually.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. She’s—god, she’s just incredible. She’s smart and beautiful and passionate and a total badass.”

“Well it sounds like you met your match, Ms. Sawyer.”

“Aww, now you sound like Mrs. Sanders.”

“Did I not mention that I teach high school English these days?”

“Oh god, you’ve become her!” Maggie shrieked, teasingly pushing at Eliza’s shoulder.

“Whatever, she was cute.”

“In retrospect…yeah, she kinda was,” Maggie agreed with a chuckle. “So, still go back to Blue Springs pretty regularly?”

“Oh, uh, not really. My parents got divorced, and my mom moved out to Michigan, so I mainly just visit her.”

“Don’t spend much time with your dad?”

“Ah, yeah, no. As it turns out, his reaction to everything was pretty indicative of just how he felt… We haven’t talked since graduation when he met Gabriella.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t worry. I mean, I still see my mom, and Gabriella’s family is amazing.”

“Yeah, Alex and I have our own little makeshift family here too—they’re a bit on the weird side but—”

“You’re a bit on the weird side,” Eliza interjected, shooting Maggie a knowing look.

“Yes, well, if you’d let me finish, I was going to say, but I wouldn’t have them any other way.”

#ask me #anon #sanvers #maggie sawyer #eliza wilkie #alex danvers #some smut #angst #cw homophobia #fanfic #supergirl #prompt fill #ao3feed

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fvaleraye · 4 years

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Political Correspondence

Oh hey would you look at that, I made another chapter Amazing what a few kind words will do... I see y’all ;w;

Anyway, this one is... a little different? It’s mainly worldbuilding, and a peek at the goings on of the political shit of the Council that runs the world, or, more specifically, their more... uncooperative members, and it’s not very long. I may do a follow up that’s just the council members who don’t get along messaging each other ASDLFKJN

I hope y’all enjoy reading ^^

The lands of Magna Terra have been dominated by the Ten Great Cities for generations. Though still a relatively young civilization, all things considered, it has manage to stand tall despite much strife. Or, at least, that's what they say. The Council, the leading body of the government, are believed to be a unified and benevolent group, unshakeable in their will to lead Magna Terra to greatness and prosperity. While this is not... entirely accurate, the continent has not descended into anarchy yet, so that must mean something. The Council are, on paper, made up of ten exceptional, hand-picked individuals from each of the ten cities. In reality, only six of them consistently show up to any meetings. One is typically busy with research, another has many spiritual responsibilities, while the other two quite honestly only have a seat on the council in name only. No-one complains, however. Forcing all attendants to appear in person would most likely do more harm than good. So. Written correspondence is the next best thing.

Technically speaking, Finley was the one and only Free Lands representative on the council, as he was the only one who had the patience for all the paperwork and political dealings, but all four Pirate Kings typically debated, or argued, on any decision that the Free Lands would make on council proceedings. Odysseus was usually busy raiding ships for "volunteers" in his bloodsports and shiny metals to decorate his opulent ships with, and clearly cared very little for anything else. Delphine mostly guided the various ocean dangers away from the ports, as she was expected to, as every siren emissary from the Deep Kingdoms did. And Finley's brother, Lockley, mostly just got into barfights and raided ships that Odysseus hadn't already picked clean, when he wasn't nursing hangovers.

So, with all these... colorful individuals, it fell to Finley to keep track of everything, and make sure that the Council didn't come down on their less than legal activities like a hammer. It was stressful, and he didn't want to be the one to do it, but someone had to. And no-one else was going to volunteer. So he spent most of his time sitting in his study, or in the captains quarters if he was on the sea, writing to the other Council members and keeping track of all the numbers in his fellows... escapades. This is why he had his own private grog stash kept stocked at all times.

"Fellow Members of the Council.

I appreciate your continued tolerance of my fellows activities, and we're all thankful for the shipment of various goods. Odysseus in particular was overjoyed at the crates of fine wine, and I doubt you'll be seeing much of him and his crew for a bit, as they've managed to drink themselves into a stupor these past few nights with the stuff. Delphine is doing well, and, as a result, so are the seas, so you should have no trouble getting your other shipments here and back. I must admit that I am continually thankful, though not surprised, at the generosity and tolerance you have shown us, despite how the citizens of the Free Lands continue to do what pirates, outlaws, and scoundrels do. Again. Thankful. Not surprised. After all, we're the ones with all the cannons, muskets, and flintlocks. And, to answer your last letter, no, they're still not up for trade. You have magic, don't you? You'll be fine. I'm sure. As long as we're all in good standing with each other, that is.

Signed Yours Truly, Finley Bracket, Third of The Name, Lord Pirate King of The Free Lands."

The Charred Lands, meanwhile, wanted very little to do with the land beyond the forests, and the pyromantic Council members, understandably, stopped attending any meetings after the Third War of Embers. They still weighed in on any decisions the Council made, but they were governed by their own Council, the Council of The Charred Ones, presided over by the Nine Charred Lords. Quite honestly, they were more united in their efforts than the actual Council, but they still had their squabbles. They hardly payed lip-service to any laws the Council made, and were simply self ruled. The Charred Lords had been around since the dawn of the Sparking, they did not need to listen to these petty mortals in their gilded tower.

The cold war between them and the Golden City went back ages, as the words of the Sacred Embers and the teachings of the Holy Church often conflicted, and the animosity between them was only strengthened after the war. The Church didn't take kindly to any "pagan" religions who did not worship their Lady of Light, and the people of the Charred Lands believed in only the Nine Unburnt Gods. Most Council members were thankful when the Lords stopped attending, honestly, as they spent most of their time bickering with the Archbishop than actually adding anything to the decisions. It was far more productive this way, even if they still didn't add much at all to Council decisions.

"Councilman of The Uncharred.

We have deigned to hear your requests for the holy metals, and the rare ores they are crafted from, that our holy guard uses in defense of the most holy Citadel of The Everlasting Embers, resting place of the gifts of the Unburnt Ones. We shall decline. These metals are for the use of true believers, and you have shown yourselves to be quite the opposite time and time again, as the wars prove. Remember, you have earned our tolerance, not our forgiveness. We have not deigned to give you any of our resources. We, however, deign to give our thanks for the fine jewels you have sent. We shall return them to you in a few suns time. The Unburnt Gods have no need of such finery, and neither do we. Bribery will get you nowhere in these discussions. As for your requests to remove the demons currently creeping through your lands, isn't that what your "Holy" Order is for? To kill or restrain these Blessedly Charred Beings is to betray the teachings of the Holy Ember, which your "Church" should take no issue with. Deal with it yourselves.

May The Blessings of Ember Touch Upon Your Woefully Uncharred Minds. The Council of The Nine Charred Lords, Children of The Unburnt Gods."

The Councilman Argentum, or Silver Councilman as most people call him, spent most of his waking hours researching the magic and history of Sparks, as well as contributing to the Historum in the Silver City. While he had very little interest in politics, his decisions and opinions were weighed very carefully by the rest of the Council, and his mind was held in high regard, even if his more logical approach to things rubbed the Church the wrong way at times. While he is a well regarded and respected member of the Council, more and more often he fails to attend Council meetings, as he becomes more and more absorbed in his work, hoping for a breakthrough before the end of his long life.

He keeps in very close contact with the High Magus of the Historum, though the two have been falling out with each other in recent times. Mostly due to a difference in scientific opinion. But still, he contributes to the Historum, and to the Magus's research, as well as his own. Still, the other Council members have recently begun to raise brows at his decision making in his old age. But he hasn't gone senile yet.

"Regarded Members of The Council.

While I am shocked and appalled at what has transpired in the eastern villages, I must protest the investigation of my Magus's. These men and women are respected historians and valued sorcerers, not barbarians who burn villages and steal children. And the accusations laid against the High Magus himself are absurd at best. I refuse your request to investigate any of my inner circle, as internal investigations have already taken place, and nothing has been found. I doubt the Church's Inquisitors would find anything that my investigators haven’t. You can tell the Archbishop that. As for your request to have the lower levels of the Historum searched, I must refuse that as well. The only things down there are dust and things too valuable to be within reach of the public. If you want to poke around at dusty old relics, go to the Old Lands and find some for yourselves, it will be close enough. And the fresh air should do you some good. I am old. Not senile. And I'm a better judge of character than any of you seem to assume.

Signed Stephan M. Moores, Councilman Argentum."

The Archbishop, the spiritual leader of the Holy Church, and representative of the Golden City within the Council, could very easily attend more Council meetings, as she lives directly within the Golden City's Holy Ring, but she values her spiritual teachings more than the political intrigue of the Council. Which, given how often the other members of the Council grate on her nerves, is understandable. She leads the processions of the Holy Church within the Golden City, and personally teaches aspiring priests and priestesses of the words of The Lady of Light, as well as dealing with the backlash of the more zealous actions of the Order. Many people who do not hold the church in the absolute highest regard often raise brows at the steps taken to "protect" the Cities from the "harmful" or "heretical" religions spread around Magna Terra.

Still, the Archbishop is not a cruel woman, and would rather convert a "heretical" individual than kill them. Though, as the other members of the Council know, she is more than willing to take a morally grey stance on things if she believes it would do more good than harm in the long run, and that she can be rather terrifying when angered. While not the oldest, or wisest, member of the Council, she is level-headed enough to be a key component in keeping the other Councilmen from ripping each others throats out. When she actually attends meetings, that is.

"Dearest Councilmen.

I have heard your fears and concerns regarding the pagan cults cropping up across the outskirts of Magna Terra. I, too, am worried for the spiritual future of our fellows, so far from Her light. I have already sent several cohorts of clergymen, and, while many found success, most were repelled. I have, with a heavy heart, authorized use of the Order's Paladins to quell these dissidents. I did not want it to come to this, but some just cannot see the light until they are brought to Her judgement. As for your reports of Abyssal Kin in Crystalbarrow, I have dispatched several Inquisitors. They will arrive before the Scaled Moon rises. If the Silent Titan's misbegotten children are hiding there, they will be found. I promise you that. And, as for evidence regarding the attacks on the eastern villages, I am sorry to report that no new evidence has been found. It seems that we have found all we're going to.

May Her Light Shine Upon Your Path. Yours Truly, Lilliana Beneficia, Archbishop of Her Holy Church."

The other members of the Council, while just as important to the wellbeing of Magna Terra, are not as noteworthy as those who cause the most issues with the formal proceedings. They are, while still colorful individuals, rather normal in comparison. Most are often exasperated by their fellows. Some are amused. They would all rather they just get along and get things done without a crisis having to happen first. While not quite as unified as they wish to appear, they are thankfully still far from ineffective in keeping the different territories from tearing each other to pieces.

#Valerie Writes #Scintillam #i had fun with this asdlkfjn #it was different!#and i jus wanted to worldbuild; mostly #may do more of these worldbuilding chapters if y'all rlly like them #just. chapters that don't add toooo much; or progress the story a lot #just chapters that add background to the story #*shrugs*#maybe...#reblogs are appreciated if u enjoyed :V

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soto-translates · 7 years

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Pash Sept 2017 article: Saiyuki Reload Blast anime

Many thanks to @flowermiko for providing the scans! Sorry it took me so long to get to it　 m（ー＿ー）m

Soto Note: text in (parenthesis) are part of the article. Text in [square brackets] are notes from me.

The ones holding the fate of the world are men with a dangerous connection!?

We corner the producer about his aim in the episodes taking place 500 years ago that delve deep into the relationships between the Sanzo Ikkou and Goku’s past. Additionally, we also talk with the character designer who brought to life these high-quality images!

Saiyuki Reload Blast

Data ON AIR: AT-X = every Wednesday night 10:30-; Tokyo MX = every Thursday at midnight; Sun TV = every Friday night 11:30-; BS11 = every Sunday late night 1:30-; TV Aichi = every Monday late night 3:05- HP: http://www.saiyuki-rb.jp/ TWITTER: @saiyuki_rb © Minekura Kazuya・Ichijinsha / Saiyuki RB Project STAFF: Original work - Minekura Kazuya (serialized in Ichijinsha “Gekkan Comic ZERO-SUM”); Director - Nakano Hideaki; Series Composition - Konuta Kenji; Character Design - Satou Youko; Sub Character Design - Kobayashi Toshimitsu; General Animation Directors - Kobayashi Toshimitsu, Satou Youko; Prop Design - Sugimura Tomokazu; Action Animation Director - Saiki Yasuhiro; Art Director - Mayuzumi Masaki; Color Setting - Yamagami Aiko; Director of Photography - Asakawa Shigeki; Editing - Kimura Kashiko; Music - Katou Tatsuya; Music Producer - Kawashima Mai; Music Production - Lantis; Sound Production - Jinnan Studio; Sound Director - Takakuwa Hajime; Opening Artist - GRANRODEO; Ending Artist - Luck Life; Animation Production - Platinum Vision CAST: Genjo Sanzo / Konzen Douji - Seki Toshihiko; Son Goku / Goku - Hoshi Souichirou; Sha Gojyo / General Kenren - Hirata Hiroaki; Cho Hakkai / Field Marshal Tenpou - Ishida Akira; Kougaiji - Kusao Takeshi; Dokugakuji - Yamanoi Jin; Kanzeon Bosatsu - Igarashi Rei; Prince Nataku - Kouda Kaho; Taruchie - Saito Chiwa; Saitaisai - Suwabe Junichi, etc.

What connects these men who can’t turn back? The Sanzo Ikkou swear at one another while brandishing a gun and rounding up youkai. The stage suddenly turns from their story drawn in the early episodes to 500 years ago. Sanzo and Goku, Gojyo and Hakkai are tightly bound by a chain that, while at first glance seems like nothing, is actually so strong no one else can get through. The reason for that seems to lie in an incident that occurred in Heaven 500 years ago. Precisely because the lives they risked for others were stolen from them, they are now determined to live their lives for themselves. However, there is one more person they are connected to. The War Prince, Prince Nataku. How is he, vanished from Heaven, connected to the Sanzo Ikkou?

Original picture: Itou Mina Direction: Kobayashi Toshimitsu Color Setting/Check: Yamagami Aiko Coloring: T.D.I. Special: Asakawa Shigeki

Goku and Sanzo

In the early stages of this work, Goku and Sanzo haven’t had many scenes together. Maybe this paradoxically displays their connection...? Because for Konzen, somehow bored to death with his peaceful days in Heaven, 500 years ago, his meeting with the “gold-eyed creature” Goku was the catalyst that upended his life.

[over young Goku] Konzen, gimme a name!

[caption: young Goku, current Goku] Comparing Goku’s expressions from now and when he was in Heaven, both are child-like but 500 years ago he was more infant-like and uneasy.

Here’s a highlight! Comment by the producer It was decided that I’d be handling the latest “Saiyuki” work, which has long enjoyed popularity, and the pressure is immense (pained smile). It has continued serialization for over 20 years, and I’ve been reading it since my school days too, after all. That’s why I’ve dealt this project thinking about how the make the fans think that “Saiyuki” and the “Sanzo Ikkou” have returned. In Saiyuki Reload Blast, the Sanzo Ikkou has travelled quite a ways from Chang’an, seen different cultures, and overcome various obstacles. That’s why I wanted to show a slightly calmed-down Sanzo and Goku, Gojyo and Hakkai. (Frontier Works Producer: Shiraishi Youko)

[under Konzen] Can you remain that little one’s sun?

[caption: Sanzo] Konzen becomes conscious of his own emotions when he meets the young Goku. Is this painful experience the reason that the current Sanzo respects their personalities so refreshingly it borders on violence?

Nataku and Goku 

Nataku has been used by his father’s ambition as the “War Prince”, valued only in battle. For him, Goku is his one and only friend. For Goku too, worried about his own existence, Nataku’s words are salvation, but the adults’ situation tears them apart.

[over cherry tree] My name’s Goku. Nice t’ meetcha.

[caption: cherry tree] If only they could play like this someday. Goku’s simple wish is crushed by the adults’ expectations.

[caption: Nataku torso] Nataku activates his power as war prince. On his own he has overwhelming power equalling an entire army, but...

Here’s a highlight! Comment by the producer As someone who’s worked on this, I have an emotional attachment to Konzen. He was raised in a hot house environment, wanting for nothing, but then he meets Goku and begins to mature by living with him. The scene where he thinks he won’t let anything happen to Goku, despite Konzen’s being a man with no power aside from his authority and position, hits me hard. The Gaiden episodes were presented in the OVA series, but that anime focussed on how Konzen, Kenren, and Tenpou died, and on the events leading to Goku’s exile in the Lower World. In this anime, the first half of “Saiyuki Gaiden” makes a point of showing how Goku met Konzen, Kenren, and Tenpou, and of course Nataku. I can’t go into detail because it will spoil later developments, but I hope you’ll understand why we included the Gaiden episodes in this anime if you watch until the end!

[caption: Goku crying, Nataku bleeding] Torn between the loyalty to his father that had been implanted in him and his friendship with Goku, Nataku turns his blade on himself. Goku, shocked by witnessing his friend’s death, breaks his diadem and begins to rampage.

Here’s a highlight! Comment by the producer Compared to before, the “Sanzo Ikkou” in this anime have changed yet remained the same. What’s changed is their position of “We aren’t heroes of justice”. This is something I’ve inherited from the previous person in charge, but apparently the original creator Minekura Kazuya Sensei said so during production of the anime’s first episode. For example, even if they’re told unilaterally to help, I think they won’t. But, like with Tamuro in episode 1, if they see intent and faith in the side to be helped, they’ll at least lend a hand. I’m always keeping this in mind.

Gojyo and Hakkai

Gojyo lives according to his animal instincts and Hakkai wordlessly backs him up even while tossing him sharp comments. In a sense, their perfectly synchronized relationship is reminiscent of the trusting relationship between Kenren and Tenpou, 500 years ago in Heaven.

[caption: Gojyo] Gojyo appears to do only as he pleases, but in actuality cares about his companions. Maybe the promise from 500 years ago lives on deep within his heart...

Here’s a highlight! Comment by the producer This is a highlight that comes up after this, but new characters like the last Sanzo Priest appear. She doesn’t feel much like a priest, just like Genjo Sanzo, but during scenes when the two of them talk they act just like “highest ranking monks”. And, the Sanzo Ikkou’s rivals show up. I hope you watch to the end.

[caption: Hakkai] At first glance, Hakkai smiles guilelessly. But behind that smile is a man who can see several moves ahead and acts accordingly.

[caption: Kenren & Goku] Straight-forward Kenren, who claimed Goku as his illegitimate son, is a good big brother figure. The age difference is refreshing!

[caption: Gojyo & Hakkai, Tenpou & Kenren] Gojyo and Hakkai, Kenren and Tenpou show just about the same sense of distance now as 500 years ago. You can feel the common roots in their love of tobacco and drink.

[under Tenpou & Kenren] This’s called a pinky promise. It seals the deal.

Cornered the artist! Special comment from the character designer Satou Youko

--- How did you feel when it was decided you’d be taking part in “Saiyuki”, which has received passionate fan support for 20 years? I wondered if I was good enough (laughs).

--- What impression did you have of the original “Saiyuki” series when you read it? I was very surprised by the drawings, which were more detailed and cleaner than I’d imagined.

--- “Saiyuki” has been adapted for anime many times before. What parts did you focus on in designing the characters for this adaptation? I was careful to create solid images even with thin lines, and keep them from becoming like today’s thin and bendy line drawings.

--- Were there points you paid attention to when translating the original manga characters into anime? All the characters have distinctive details in their hair, so I took special care there. I was especially careful with Sanzo’s sideburns, Goku’s expressions, Gojyo’s head volume, Hakkai’s eyes, and the like.

--- Konzen, Kenren, and Tenpou, who closely resemble Sanzo, Gojyo, and Hakkai, appear in this anime. Were you conscious of how to draw their differences? I designed the characters so you wouldn’t forget that they’re all different people; I thought about how their personalities lead to different expressions.

--- Similarly, for the young Goku from 500 years ago and the current Goku, were you thinking of how to show the difference in his expressions? I concentrated on making Goku from 500 years ago have a cheerful, innocent child’s face. Conversely, while the current Goku appears younger than the other three, he does bear several life experiences not shown in the manga. That’s why I tried to give him an expression that was more than just a child’s, and couldn’t be called purely innocent.

--- What did you enjoy drawing, and what was difficult to draw? I think those are both covered by the sheer amount of lines (laughs).

--- How did you feel when the main voice cast from the previous 20 years of “Saiyuki” was announced for this picture? I was delighted. It was like, “Aah, it’s become ‘Saiyuki’!”

--- Please give us a highlight from the “Saiyuki Reload Blast” to come. We’ve made an effort to reproduce the original work as closely as possible. After the 7th episode, familiar(?) and nostalgic characters will show up, so stay tuned!

[Soto Note: If anyone has anything they'd like to see me translate (eventually), drop me a note!]

#saiyuki #translation #saiyuki reload blast anime

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