#that shattered your life? Your immutable truths are shattered and would you take their hand? Forget intention. Think with your emotions.

[dementedspeedster]

//My brain is being critical about redemption arcs specifically pertaining to Thad. AGAIN.

#-shakes the bars of my cage- There's some value post Impulse comics. PLEASE. #IT'S the ANGER. Literally would you not be angry in his situation?? Would you not be prideful and angry and so unwilling to accept the hand #that shattered your life? Your immutable truths are shattered and would you take their hand? Forget intention. Think with your emotions. #-shakes my bars- hhhhhhh #also anger is so compelling when you're forced to fit in a box/to be perfect/an ideal #redemption feels like an easy fix. It makes him palatable. I say that specifically because it literally feels like someone attempting to fi #him/change his character/and force him into the role of son/brother/etc. #It puts him in a box/puts limitations upon him in my opinion. #so yeah i'm critical of the idea. #i guess there's two ways to look at it: There's giving him what you feel like he deserves (aka a good life) and then there's giving him wha #you think is a compelling story. #anyway I'll probably type this up in a more cognizant way later. I'm just thinking about it.

[crimsontroupe]

❝ people often claim to hunger for truth,   but seldom like the taste when it’s served up. ❞ - @ardenssolis

The thought of it makes him smile. But the smile that surfaces on Adonia's lips is somehow very divorced from the one he usually flashes at people - even towards his companion during long evenings. It is filled with something else, something old and ancient. The secret of this plane and many others, swirling energy that gives and takes.

In that moment it is so easy to see how something masquerades still being human can falter. It is not malice, but a glee known only to beings that will continue to exist for too many years. The glee, joyful glee of a creature that will return to its form once slayed and retain all memories still. This selfsame creature will remember his friend, even when the King attains a new form. Ozymandias will not remember him, but Adonia will always remember Ozymandias. Adonia will always remember the Sun. With him he keeps vows of creatures old and new. "Truth is a complicated matter for many."

Adonia will remember whispered secrets, too. As one who has made a pact with the Land, he will serve as its pillar and foundation. Scales of balance and justice, sword of the righteous. In another life, would they be enemies? In another life, would the Sun blot out the sky and swallow the Earth?

He will live to know. Secrets for him to keep. Secrets for him to share, millennia from now. He tents his hands, amused by something else that crosses his mind.

"My dear friend, even I have a fraught relationship with it. I ran from truth and responsibility once, and now I am sworn to uphold many things that the foolish me of yesterday thought he could gracefully evade.

The truth is bitter, but not rotten. Many willingly take the fruit upon their hands, gripping at it so strongly that it taints their arms with its juices. The desire to know is admirable, do you not agree? And as they squeeze every last drop out, it consumes their minds. It shatters reality as you know, rewrites itself. Permanent. Indelible. Immutable. It towers over both Men and the Gods."

Oh bitter grapefruit, will your seeds be poisoned too?

"But it has never stopped them from the desire to understand and know. I assume you are not immune to its sweet allure either, Ozymandias. The truth leaves you drunk, the truth cuts you open like a knife.

It is why we obfuscate it. We cannot lie, but we can simply elect to not tell you the whole picture. Weave the story in a way where you could figure the way out of a thick, dense forest by yourself... but we will not lie about which way is out. Many get lost in the maze of their minds. Many simply decide to return home. Many die, and some decide to stay.

Eventually the dawn upon it: that which they sought all along. A reward for their troubles, a glimpse of what would destroy them. What is your desire, dear friend of mine? Will a man like you frown upon knowing all of the truths of the world - or simply embrace it like a long lost friend?"

What will your answer the next time we meet be, I wonder? For now, the Eldest enjoys much desired company. "Tell me about the joys the truth brought you. And if you can spare me another story, then speak to me about the grief it too causes. We have time. We will always have time."

#ardenssolis #the last rose of summer ; adonia #saluting emoji

[tiny-maus-boots]

Queen of Hearts pt 10

10. Stacked Deck

“You’re really alright?”

Stacie smiled and dipped her head in a slight nod. The last few hours of her life had been a rollercoaster of unexpected emotions and events but by far the most unexpected was this. Helene gave her daughter’s arm a gentle squeeze before hesitatingly pulling her into an awkward but heartfelt embrace. It was the first in a long time that actually felt…unscripted.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Really.” It wasn’t the ideal introduction to her life that she’d wanted for her mother but it was what it was. Stacie shook her head a little and pulled back so she could look her mother in the eye. “We’re going to be fine.”

“I wasn’t asking about Aubrey.” There was a decidedly crisp tone there, shattering the tender hope that maybe things might be okay and Stacie felt the muscles in her back tighten in anticipation of what was coming. Her arms dropped away in from the short-lived hug. “Aubrey is not my child. You are.”

“No but she’s a part of my life and she’s going to be my wife, mom.” Stacie sighed and shook her head realizing that to continue would only bring a fight she didn’t have the energy for. Especially when all she wanted to do was go home with Aubrey and find out what happened. “You know what…never mind. Thank you for your concern but you don’t need to worry about it.”

She started to turn back to get in the car when Helene pulled her back with a desperate grasp. “Wait…”

“For what? I know how you feel already.”

“No, you do not. That has always been your problem Anastacia, you are so brilliant and observant that you think you know everything! Admittedly, you’re correct an irritating amount of the time but you do not know everything. Don’t presume to know what even I do not.”

Helene took a breath and settled her posture in a camera-ready pose. It was a habit so deeply ingrained that she doubted her mother was aware of it. She gave a nod of apology and Helene let the rigidity of her spine relax.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re worried about me but…”

“I don’t have to be. Yes. You’ve said.” The older woman took a step forward and sighed softly. “I came looking for insight into your life. That old adage of be careful what you wish for suddenly rings truer than ever before.”

Stacie chuckled and nodded her head. “Yeah. Today was a lot. Thank you for coming with me to the station. It meant a lot to me that you were there. Maybe I don’t know how you feel about things but I know what all this looks like.”

Silence swallowed them up as her mom considered her next words. “It looks to me that you care about Aubrey very much.”

“I do.”

“It also looks like she cares very deeply for your happiness.” Her head came up quickly in question but Helene gave no further explanation as she went on. “Politically speaking this could ruin your father’s career and standing within the party.”

“Spoken like the wife of a Senator.”

A small smile graced Helene’s face making her eyes soften. “Speaking as a mother…I worry that this life will put you in physical danger.” Stacie’s brows came up and she opened her mouth to speak but Helene raised a hand to stop her from saying what they both already knew. “I know. Perhaps too little, too late. What I am saying is that…I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. I failed you in many ways Anastacia, I don’t want to fail you again.”

Oh. It was hard to hear that, perhaps because she’d always wanted to hear some kind of acknowledgment that her mother ever cared about her at all. She’d been holding on to a resentment knowing this moment would never come, so sure that her mother had given up all real maternal feelings for her the moment the umbilical cord had been cut. And now she didn’t know what to do with the feelings she never thought she’d have to let go. It was going to take her some time to unpack all of that and process it.

“Can you be happy for me?”

It was the only question that actually mattered at the moment. What she needed from her mom wasn’t a protector. Not anymore anyway. What she needed was support. Some kind of affirmation that no matter what her mom would be a part of her life even if some aspects of it caused her to worry.

“Will it undo our tentative truce if I say I’m trying?”

Stacie smiled and wrapped her arms around her mom in a tight hug. It wasn’t a rousing yes, and she didn’t expect it to be. But it was honest and real and that was enough for her. Helene stiffened for a second then retuned the hug with a gentle squeeze. It wasn’t totally okay and they both knew that. Life wasn’t a sitcom where differences were resolved with a heartwarming hug and a cued laugh track. But there was a new understanding between them. Maybe now they could start rebuilding the bridge they burnt down so many years before.

 An hour and a half later she was still replaying the conversation in her head. Aubrey unlocked the door and pushed it open before glancing inside and stepping in. Stacie was right on her heels, lost in thought and unprepared for the arm that shot out across her chest to keep her from walking in further. Keen green eyes searched the interior of the entry as she reached to the small of her back and pulled her gun from its holster.

“Stay close.”

Stacie nodded and placed a hand on Aubrey’s back, following her in past the stairs and into the living room. The blonde stopped abruptly with a growl and put her gun away before stepping into the entrance of the large room. Stacie edged behind her fiancée and poked her head around the other woman’s shoulder only to see Detective Mitchell in all her smirky glory lounging on Aubrey’s white leather couch with her motorcycle boots propped up on the glass topped coffee table.

“Hey, Daddy. How was the pokey?”

“I swear to Christ, Mitchell…one of these days I’m going to shoot you. Get your damn feet off my table.”

Detective Mitchell grinned widely and lowered her feet to the ground. “Sorry. You’ll be happy to know that your lawyer filed a restraining order against our department but I don’t know if that will stop the Feds.” Aubrey nodded and moved to the mini bar to pour them all a drink. “Water for me, thanks.”

Stacie and Aubrey looked at each other in surprise then glanced at the small brunette. Aubrey shrugged and grabbed three bottles of water from the mini fridge. Had it been anyone else neither of them would have batted an eye at the request but it was Beca. She never turned down a drink.

“How did Agent Esposito take the news that LAPD is backing off?”

Beca took the water bottle and shrugged. “Well I’m pretty sure she’s possessed cause her head almost started spinning.” She took a sip of her water still smiling at the memory. “But I don’t know, Posen, we’re missing a beat somewhere. I talked to my guy at the Bureau and he seemed to think you’re just some low-level capo. I don’t think they were looking at you seriously.”

While she appreciated the visual, Stacie didn’t think Alice’s tantrum meant anything but more trouble despite Beca’s assessment of the FBI’s interest. Aubrey seemed to think so too because she nodded and settled herself on the couch next to the detective. “She’s like a dog with a bone. She’s not going to let this go if the Feds can really pull together a case.”

Stacie frowned at that as she settled into a chair. “How can they have a case, no one knows anything and Weston is dead.”

Aubrey sighed deeply and leaned forward so her elbows rested on her knees. “They have images of me boarding Whitman’s boat. It’s not enough but it gives them wiggle room to try and find something else.”

She knew there had to be something; they wouldn’t have pulled Aubrey in if there wasn’t. But Stacie hadn’t been prepared for actual hard evidence. It left her struggling to figure out how that fit in with their life and future plans. Detective Mitchell gave a low whistle and shook her head.

“It’s bad yeah, but not the worst. Circumstantial at best and I’ve seen street thugs get out with more on them than that.” There was a bitter edge to Mitchell’s voice as she stood and headed for the door. “I’ll see if I can find out exactly what they have on you. Not that I can do anything about it but at least it gives you a place to start cleaning up.”

“Something bigger is going on, it feels like a stacked deck. Watch your ass, Bec.”

“See, Daddy? I knew you liked me.”

“Gun is still loaded, Mitchell. Call me Daddy one more time and see what happens.”

Stacie watched the detective smirk and make her way to the door in the kitchen to sneak off the property. The second the door shut she turned her gaze on Aubrey. The other woman had a faraway look as she pondered everything she had learned that day. The brunette moved from the chair to straddle her fiancée’s lap.

“You weren’t kidding about what our life could be like.”

Aubrey searched her face for a long time and Stacie suspected she was looking for any sign that this was going to break them. Stacie smiled gently and smoothed the wrinkle of worry in the blonde’s brow. This was new and a little bit scary but it wasn’t even close to changing how she felt about the other woman or any of her plans to get married.

“Ready to run away yet?”

“Only if we’re running away together.”

The thread of tension that had been just under the surface released and Stacie slid her hands under Aubrey’s jacket and over her shoulders to slip it off. Running anywhere wasn’t on her list of things to do, and especially not running away from the only person that she truly felt safe with. There were a lot of unknowns in their life right now but what she did know what an immutable truth. She loved Aubrey Posen with every bit of her being and nothing was ever going to come between them. Not their exes or families, or even the FBI.

“You know you’re quite the woman, Ms. Conrad. Thanks for coming to my rescue today. How’d you know?”

“A tiny birdy with a big mouth.” The corners of Aubrey’s lips quirked in a grin and Stacie couldn’t help but kiss each corner. “You should give her a bonus.”

“Oh yeah? Got any other business ideas?”

“Tons.” Stacie smiled into the kiss Aubrey pulled her into. Warm hands trailed down her back in a promising caress. “We should have the wedding catered by Flo. The food is amazing and the price will be right. It’ll strengthen our business relationship by giving her a foothold to a new client base. And what makes her money, makes you money. Besides my mother loved her food.”

“You know I love it when you have ideas.” Aubrey nipped at her lip playfully, hands gripping her hips to pull Stacie in closer. “Speaking of your mom…that was surprising. How much does she hate me over this?”

“She dropped by the shelter and was there when Beca called. She’s not thrilled, Bree. But. I dunno. I need space from it for a bit. It was a lot.”

Her shoulder came up in a shrug and she leaned forward into Aubrey’s body. There was no pressure to talk about anything, just reassuring acceptance and it meant the world to Stacie. She wasn’t ready yet to sift through her feelings on Helene’s visit. The arms around her tightened comfortingly and she smiled against the soft skin of Aubrey’s neck.

“I think we both need a little space from this whole scene. Maybe we should take a trip back east.”

Stacie sat up and raised a brow in question. Aubrey never did anything without a good reason. “Why back east?”

Aubrey gave a half shrug, trying not to look as nervous as Stacie knew she suddenly was. “I was thinking it was time you met The Family.”

“Wow. Did not see that one coming.”

“I figured I got to meet yours…”

“Is this business family or…”

“A little of both. You’re not just gonna be one of the wives in the family, you’re my partner. I think it’s better they know from the start how it’s going to be from now on. And I have a feeling we’ll find the answers to some of our questions there.”

The confidence was exhilarating, and Stacie found herself inhaling deeply against the rise of arousal. Aubrey wasn’t asking anyone’s permission to include her in the business side of things. Either old school mafiosos had gotten a lot more progressive in their thinking or Aubrey didn’t expect to be challenged in any serious way. Stacie’s eyes narrowed slightly. Everyone had a boss they answered to and she didn’t think for one second that she would be accepted just because Aubrey said so. Unless.

“You’re not just ‘some low-level capo’ like Detective Mitchell’s Bureau buddy thinks, are you?”

Amused pale green eyes rose to meet hers as Aubrey gave her a sinfully cocky smirk. Whatever flimsy control she had over her arousal was battered away by the tidal wave of raw lust that slammed through her. Stacie slid her hand down over the blonde’s chest and pulled the silk tie free from the vest. She stood on legs already shaky with anticipation and tugged lightly to urge Aubrey up.

“I think you should take me to bed now, don’t you?”

Aubrey gave a soft grunt of agreement as she let herself be led by the tie. “Like I said, I love it when you have ideas.”

Later they could figure out everything from wedding plans to avoiding prison, right now however Stacie had more pressing needs.

#staubrey au #stacie conrad #aubrey posen #pitch perfect fic #tdc series

[vake-hunter]

It will take very long time for me to reach new content so... May I ask why Discordance is cool now?

i forgot i never posted anything about this. oops.

SPOILERS FOR RAILROAD AHEAD.

Summary is you follow Fires and find its kidnapped Furnace. Direct quotes follow with bold being my favorite parts

"An exchange," it is saying. "We – the Masters and the Bazaar – owe certain debts to a power in the West. It is possible that these debts will never come due, and they are very old. But if you will accept responsibility for them, in the name of yourself and the Tracklayers' Union, then I will let you go. More than that: I will leave you and the Union to yourselves. As long as you do not bring your workers back to London or encourage my own factories to unionise."

Furnace looks gravely at Fires. "I will need to review the contract carefully," she says.

Furnace and Fires are still speaking. "And you'll keep your word?" she is asking.

"By the law of the Bazaar and by the Cedar of the Crossroads," says Fires. "And by my own personal word, of course."

"We can guess what that is worth," she retorts.

"Every person and power in this room is your witness," Fires purrs. "Let them all hold me to account, if I go back on my sworn word."

In your pocket, the boxed seed grows heavier; under your feet, the floor of the Tower continues to shiver. As if everything in the room were holding its breath for Furnace to sign this document, or refuse it.

Furnace draws the contract towards her and solemnly reads its pages. She might be sitting in the boardroom of the GHR, not imprisoned in a tower at the height of the Neath, for all the sign she gives.

Then, she pauses and looks up at you. Mr Fires is not looking at either of you. She stares into your eyes as though that would let her control your body through sheer force of will.

Then she mouths the words: Take cover. Now.

Furnace Ancona dips her pen in ink and painstakingly draws a sigil on the contract sheet. You can't see it from here – in fact, she is shading it with her hand as she writes. She does not mean you to read it. But that can't be her signature, surely?

When she's done, she blows on the sheet to dry the ink. Then she rather pedantically lowers her visor helmet. Only then, she pushes the contract across the desk towards Mr Fires.

Fires picks up the contract and lifts it to read: the text is not English. The phrase sounds like a shattering manacle, like a breaking chain.

The moment Fires has pronounced it, there is a loud crack, like the branch breaking off a frozen tree. All the fires in the room go out. Your whole body feels cold and heavy. Something is wrong with your thoughts.

A law is enacted:

The king forgets the hostage of war

The hunting dog does not know the scent of its quarry

The assassin cannot recognise the face of her prey

The opposing pieces are moved to separate boards

Hillchanger Tower is silent, and the faint throb of the stone has stilled.

Mr Fires lies face down, huddled in its robe.

Furnace is on her back, equally motionless, and her helmet is rimed in ice. You could not open the visor now even if you wished to.

I helped Fires to learn more about Creditor but if you help Furnace, she is badly injured and you have to help her heal.

"Discordance," hisses Mr Fires. "The cold language, the language of stars that have died and laws that have passed away." And it goes on like that, about dead light and corrupted law and the space between the stars polluted.

The fact that Fires calls it the language of dead stars is so fucking interesting. In skies its worded more like it the Discordance is picked up willingly.

"Some stars abandon the immutable light of their brethren for a more nuanced philosophy. The old language no longer suffices; heretical concepts exist for which it cannot provide signifiers." As the symbol takes shape, water turns to frost with a crackle. "These traitor-stars adopt another language. Or perhaps another dialect? The Discordance." She hisses and withdraws her finger from the completed symbol; the tip is blackened with frostbite.

I always thought of the Halved dead in a way and this confirms that yes, it is dead or dying. As suns do in real life when they die, they start to eat themselves. This also makes more sense given how much pain the Halved is in, and how hard it was for it to talk in the Correspondence during the Truth Ambition. And also that it doesn't have logoi.

#lore #fallen london spoilers #Anonymous

[thereveriepantheon-blog]

1- The Romance of the Cosmos

[Mysterious music]

Time: In the beginning, there was nothing. Just endless empty void stretching on into eternity, and me in the middle of it. Watching. Waiting. Existing. Can you imagine that?  Can you imagine nothing? 

No, not that. That’s something. That's darkness. I mean nothing. The absence of darkness. The absence of light. The absence of absence. Can you imagine that, Truthseeker? 

…

No. I didn't think so. But that's what the universe was like when I was... not born. Created perhaps? -No, no, nothing so deliberate. Occurred. That is what the universe was like when I first occurred. There was nothing.

And then...there were stars. Swirling orbs of gas and fire blooming into being and igniting the void. Illuminating it. Illuminating that which it contained, that which I would swear upon every speck of stardust in the world that it had not contained mere moments before; the goddess Space. 

[Music changes from mysterious to romantic]

Her violet hair was pulled up into a complicated topknot and held in one place with a large gold spike, which shimmered in the starlight, and her dark skin was barely discernible against the void, her outline only certain where her image crossed in front of stars. Her eyes held galaxies instead of pupils. As she floated there, with a soft smile on her face, and a new nebula forming between her clasped hands, I was certain: she was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.  

Space: I was the only person you’d ever seen, you ridiculous flirt!

Time: And no once since has ever compared, Stardust.  

Space: [laughing] You’re incorrigible. Get back to the story.

Time: Oh, but what else is there to say?  What truth could possibly exist that would be vast enough to eclipse your ethereal beauty, my love?

Space:  A lot. There’s a lot left to say, Time.  You know what, I’m telling the story now.  You obviously can’t be trusted to stay on topic.  

So.  We met.  It was lovely, and life changing. All that nonsense. But the best part, well the best part was yet to come. Sure, we spent those early days flitting about each other, talking, flirting, working beside each other over centuries and stars, dust and days, and it was lovely, but it did not become truly perfect until we started to work together.  

By ourselves, we couldn’t do anything. I could create, but my creations were static, dull.  Time could change, but change means nothing in a void, is nothing without something in existence to change. So we collaborated. I would create, and she would advance my creations. Evolve them. Make them beautiful. Make them live. That’s what I fell in love with. Not the image of a grey skinned woman in a white dress, blue eyes wide and white hair standing up as if in shock, with one streak of black running through it like a bolt of lightning. No, I fell in love with the space between seconds, and the movement of hours into days. I fell in love with the progression of time.  I fell in love with the way her very presence made beauty out of stasis.  Art is change, and change only ever occurs with time.

Time [besotted]: And you call me a flirt.

Space: [embarrassed spluttering] Anyway, that’s how the universe began. For a long time, it was just us, creating and changing and destroying. And for so long, it was paradise.  Just us and unlimited possibilities. But…

Time: We got lonely.

Space: Yeah. It gets pretty boring only talking to one person for millennia, even if they are the most wonderful person you could imagine. 

[Music: Dramatic and sad]

After a while, conversations start to repeat. What was once bliss begins to feel like routine. We were stagnating  So we created her. Our daughter. 

The first human.

Time [devastated]: She barely lasted a second...she… We made a mistake.  She was made of the wrong things.: dreams and hopes and fears and magic. No bones, no ligaments. She was made of thought and not matter, and thought has always been a bit less stable. Too prone to shifting on a whim. She was made of the wrong things.

And she was made in the wrong order. Modeled after us but...we are old.  We are old and we are gods and gods do not grow, do not change. We exist, but we do not become.  Humans cannot come into existence like that.  They need to start small, young.  They need to grow, to age and become what they are as adults.  She didn’t have that opportunity. She...she… [sharp inhale]

Space [with forced composure]: She fell apart. Shattered. Sentient beings should not simply spring fully formed from nothing.  She was not prepared for her own thoughts, she was overwhelmed by her own mind. We should have known this already. We should have learned our lesson from the stars. We knew that things became more beautiful through time, through change, but we didn’t realize that things couldn’t start so complicated.  We didn’t realize that people could not be created, but rather had to create themselves. So. Our daughter ... 

[Music, crescendoing, climaxes]

Broke into a million pieces and scattered herself over the earth. And that shattering brought life.  The smallest particles of her essence became animals. The larger ones became humans, infants this time. Beings that could grow into what we had envisioned our daughter to be. Beings which had the chance to make themselves into whatever it is that they would become.

And the largest pieces, well, those became gods.  

Time:  We were… we are… heartbroken.  She may not have existed for long, but we loved our daughter.  And now, we were not the only gods. Now there was Peace and Loyalty and Freedom. Chaos and Order. Secrets and Lies. Rebellion, Sleep, Loneliness and Luck. 

[Music: upbeat and inspiring]

Now there was Death, and Fate, and Sacrifice. Now there was Joy! Now there was Love. In an instant, the world had grown more complex and complicated and beautiful, and she would not be there to see it. She would never know the world that had she had inadvertently created, would never experience the joy or the love that had sprung from her broken pieces. It tainted the beauty, made every laugh sound like a cry, every achievement feel hollow.  So we took a step back.  We raised four of our grandchildren until they were old enough to take care of themselves, gifted them with the ability to move across space in an instant, the ability to escape any danger that may befall them, and then we...retreated. And left the world in the hands of the others for a time.

Space: That’s the end of our story, I suppose. At least for now, for a moment.  We… we took some time to grieve and that’s okay. We needed it. And we left the world in good hands.

Time [dubious]: Well…

Space: Fine, we left the world in adequate hands.  But really, how could we have predicted the absolute shitstorm those ruffians have made of our creation? We took some time off, we took a break, because We. Were. Heartbroken. And because we thought that among the seventeen of them, they would have been able to handle it.  Evidently not. So. We’ve come back. We have returned from our retirement to fix the mess those buffoons have made of the world.   And this is how we start.  A record. A history.  A way to remember the mistakes of the past, to prevent the mistakes of the future.  A way to hold ourselves accountable. And it won’t stop here.  Will will record every major event, every squabble and every creation, from now until the end of, well, everything.  We will make sure that it is known who is responsible for every mishap, and every glory. We will seal it in this oracle and make the past immutable.  And then…

Time: We will hope. The gods cannot pray, for we have no one to pray to, but we can hope. We can hope with every inch of our being that our actions make a difference. 

[Music begins, dramatic and inspiring] 

That we came back for something.  That we can do something to solve the problem. … Even if we are the problem.  We created humanity.  We created everything.  Therefore we are responsible for everything.  And we have been lax in our responsibilities.  We have left the world in the hands of others and they have ruined it.  They have hurt it.  They have injured our creation with their petty squabbling and it is our fault for letting them.  We must be held accountable.  There is no higher power, so we appeal to you, to mortals, to our creation.  If there is no higher power than us, than we must look to a lower one. 

You cannot punish us.  You don't have the capabilities, but remember regardless.  Remember who has hurt this world. Remember who has broken it.  Remember who has wronged you and do not forgive. That is the purpose of this record.  That is why we have made this oracle. We leave the rest up to you.  We hope you will do with it what you feel you must. And finally...we apologize.  For all the wrong we’ve done you. For all the mistakes we’ve made. For all those we will make in the future.  We are … eternally sorry.  

[Music fades away]

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

Written by Maddie Dwyer

The Goddess of Time was voiced by Mai Elise Code

The Goddess of Space was voiced by Freya

Transcript edited from original script by Mai Elise Code

Thanks for listening!

Music from hooksounds.com (Clear Night Music, Absence of Hope, Romantic Night, Cinematic Inspiring Motivational Trailer)

#podcasts #transcript

[meaarmoury]

the armor of God – my armory

// short introduction

“how was myc fam?” – ohhhhh it was really good, but something been nagging me throughout the camp, for many a time would I talk to someone new, and as we talked, there’s a ringing, small yet real fear that we conclude to. That is, whatever we learn this week, it will disappear two weeks after myc is done. In a sense, they were right, and I couldn’t really answer it well. But skip to the final day, and as God would have it, the final talk revealed what it might look like. Like wearing an armor, and so I thought I’ll share the armory God gave me to keeps me going past myc.

// scripture - ephesians 6:14-17 (hcsb)

Stand therefore, with truth like a belt of faith around your waist, righteousness like armor on your chest, and your feet sandaled with readiness for the gospel of peace in every situation take the shield of faith, and with it you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one, take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is God’s word

// story – the pilgrim’s progress - john bunyan

conflict with Apollyon 

and with that he (Apollyon) threw a flaming dart at his (Christian) breast, but Christian had a shield in his hand with which he caught it, and so prevented the danger of that

then did Christian draw, for he saw it was time to bestir him, and Apollyon as fast made at him, throwing darts as thick as hail, by the which, notwithstanding all that Christian could do to avoid it, Apollyon wounded him in his head, hand, and foot. This made Christian give a little back, Apollyon therefore followed his work again, and Christian again took courage, and resisted as manfully as he could. This sore combat lasted for above half a day, even till Christian was almost quite spent. For you must know that Christian, by reason of his wounds, must needs grow weak and weaker

Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began to gather up close to Christian, and wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall; with that Christian’s sword flew out of his hand. Then said Apollyon Apollyon: I am sure of thee now.

and with that he had almost pressed him to death so that Christian began to despair of life. But, as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetching of his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this good man, Christian nimby reached out his hand for his sword, and caught it, saying

Christian: “Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy, when I fall, I shall arise” (Micah 7:8)

With that he gave him a deadly thrust, which made him give back, as one that had received his mortal wound. Christian perceiving that, made at him again, saying

Christian: “Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors, through him that loved us” (Romans 8:37) and wit that Apollyon spread forth his dragon wing’s, and sped him away, that Christian saw him no more (James 4:7) // supplication – the valley of vision – arthur bennett

the servant in battle

O LORD I bless thee that the issue of the battle between thyself and Satan has never been uncertain, and will end in victory.  Calvary broke the dragon’s head,   and I content with a vanquished foe,      who with all his subtlety and strength has already been overcome When I feel the serpent at my heel   may I remember him whose heel as bruised      but who, when bruised, broke the devil’s head My soul with inward joy  extols the mighty conqueror Heal me of any wounds received in the great conflict; if I have fathered defilement, if my faith has suffered damage, if my hope is less than bright, if my love is not fervent, if some creature-comfort occupies my heart, if my soul sinks under pressure of the fight O thou whose every promise is balm, every touch life,   draw near to thy weary warrior   refresh me, that I may rise again to wage the strife      and never tire until my enemy is trodden down. Give me such fellowship with thee   that I made defy Satan, unbelief, the flesh, the world      with delight that come not from a creature,         and which a creature cannot  mar. Give me a  draught of the eternal fountain   that lieth in thy immutable, everlasting love and decree Then shall my hand never weaken,     my feet never stumble,     my sword never rest,     my shield never rust,     my helmet never shatter,     my breastplate never falls,   as my strength rest in the power of thy might calvary = the place where Jesus was crucified extols = praise enthusiastically   mar = to spoil draught = to drink/act of drinking

//song – be thou my vision – sam ock, john rhee

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart; Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art. Thou my best Thought, by day or by night, Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light. Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word; I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord; Thou my great Father, I Thy true son; Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one. Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight; Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight; Thou my soul’s Shelter, Thou my high Tower: Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power. Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise, Thou mine Inheritance, now and always: Thou and Thou only, first in my heart, High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art. High King of Heaven, my victory won, May I reach Heaven’s joys, O bright Heaven’s Sun! Heart of my own heart, whatever befall, Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all. Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all. // summary

that’s my armory fam, I hope God would fill yours up too, so that when the dragon appears, you can “stand therefore” and “when you fall, you arise”, for you “contend with a vanquished foe” and may god “raise thou heavenwards”