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#the great one who purifies
blueteller · 2 years
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TCF Part 2 Chapter 28 be like:
Cale: *becomes a heroic figure in literally every place and dimension he visits* Cale: *looks down at himself* HOW did I end up in this deep hole???
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Also Cale: *grabs a shovel* Welp! Might as well keep digging
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itisvangoffnotvango · 2 years
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Lmaooo
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blackpearlblast · 5 months
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[ID: drawings of a golem animated by a palestinian flag painted on its forehead. it is seen: holding out its arms protectively in front of a crowd of children, the children also hold each other supportively; catching an air strike missile from the air and throwing it away or crushing it in its fist; turning its back so that a child can warm her hands by the earth oven built into its back, food in a pot is cooking on the fire and a boy holds a cup of steaming tea to his face and enjoys the aroma; clearing away rubble so a man can help up his wife who was buried underneath, she is clutching a baby to her chest; stooping down to look at a kitten a young boy is holding up to show it; and dissolving small flakes of clay from its finger into a glass of water, purifying it. end ID]
@fairuzfan asked people to create and share art for the strike. i wrote an artist statement and then set about trying to draw what i envisioned. artist statement below.
This golem is a protector that I wish I could gift to the children and adults in Gaza. The flag on its forehead is to show that love for the Palestinian people is an animating force for people fighting for a free Palestine all over the world, especially for those in Palestine who are trying to free themselves and their people. Love is the motivation for the call for a free Palestine, not hatred like people try to claim. It is very strong and fast and can catch air strikes out of midair and crush them to dust or throw them back in the direction they came from. It can lift all the rubble of a collapsed building very quickly so nobody can get trapped underneath. It has an earth oven in its back with an ever-burning flame that people can use to warm themselves and cook food and heat water to use to bathe themselves or make tea. Pieces of its clay can be crumbled up and mixed into water to make even the most brackish and unclean water pure and safe to drink.
The golem is always a bit of a tragic figure so I don't imagine it staying around forever once Palestine is free and it is no longer needed. I think it would use its great strength to help rebuild the destroyed houses, churches, schools, universities, hospitals, and mosques and then dive into the Jordan river and dissolve. It would clean the river of all pollution and make the water splash up over all the newly replanted fruit trees, causing them to grow big and strong. Its love for Palestine and its people can be tasted in the fruit they grow for generations.
I choose a specifically Jewish icon of protection because of how it feels to witness such horrors done in the supposed name of Judaism and the Jewish people. For many anti-zionist Jews, we feel like we are acting directly within the teachings of our stories and communities by opposing this genocide. It is difficult to understand how the very people and institutions who taught us these values now fight against them so fiercely. While obviously I would still oppose Israel were I not Jewish, the way I oppose Israel is directly informed by my Jewishness. I hope that someday, somehow, Judaism can bring as much joy and support to the Palestinian people as it has brought grief and destruction. That Jewish symbols used in the name of love and justice will bear more significance than the ones used in shows of hatred. Knowing the depth of the harm caused, I do not know if this is possible. But this artwork and everything I have dedicated myself to these past few months and continue to dedicate myself to in the future is born from this hope. I love you. Thank you for being on this planet with me. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free! And it will be beautiful.
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feistyfreaks · 6 months
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Do you take request,
especially about Miguel ohara, if yes can you do an ghostface!miguel I been reading people ghostface!miguel and I’m currently obsessed with that au of Miguel
ghostface!miguel x nerdy/shy reader (female)
at alll I hope you have an great day
THE ALLIANCE ⋆༺☠︎︎༻⋆.
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pairings ❀⋮ nerdy!female reader x ghostface!miguel
cw ₊❏❜⋮ dubcon, cnc, sexual manipulation, oral (f receiving), virginity loss, choking, spanking, unprotected sex, rough sex, mask kink, creampies. (spanish translation added.)
note⋮ hi anon, and yes i absolutely take submissions for miguel! i’ve been wanting to do something w ghostface miguel for a while now so i was excited to make this, have a great week too love, i hope you enjoy this! 🕷️
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the night was cold and heavy. gray clouds obscuring the sky, raindrops bouncing off the concrete floors, trees dancing from the winds fanning in october’s drowsy weather. and yet there you sat, studying like the little goody two shoes you were instead of going out to enjoy your night n tricker treat like your other classmates were. but no, you chose to stay home for halloween.
the prig who always sat in the front of the class, paying attention and answering all the teachers questions was you. no one would be surprised if you stayed home up on your desk finishing up the stupid seven and a half sentenced essay, that you were so determined to get an A+ on.
the clock hit midnight and you were still up on your desk, fixing those grammatical errors and revising your work before you submitted your work that night. the pencils lead broke in half and you groaned, giving in to giving yourself a break; so you stood up, feeling tired and drained.
you walked into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly opened as you took off your glasses and began untying your low pigtails styled with red ribbons. just then you heard a scratching sound at your door, taking a glance you thought it was your cat so you decided to ignore it.
you unbuttoned your shorts, sliding them off your legs and throwing them into the hamper, doing the same with your shirt. the scratching on the door returned, “milo.” you warned to your cat from behind your bedroom door. you finished undressing, stepping into the shower.
yet the annoying sound of nails being dragged down your door made you more and more agitated, “milo, stop it.”
the eary scraps against your door finally came to an end as you sighed in relief, turning on the shower head. it felt refreshing to feel the warm water pour onto your skin as the glass fogged up from the waters heat. you stood there; just enjoying the moment.
you grabbed the shampoo bottle, opening the cap and spurting out a decent amount before lathering it in your hands and onto your hair; massaging the purifier into your scalp whilst washing it out.
you heard the bedroom door creek open from a distance, and you stopped what you were doing, listening in attentively. you turned around to find no one. absolutely nothing. you breathed in, it was probably just your paranoia; after all it was halloween, so you brushed it off.
you went back to showering, repeating the process at least two more times, you rinsed with conditioner before reaching for the body scrub you bought the other day from bath and body works; working the exfoliant into your skin before reaching to grab your handy dandy loofa to do the rest of the job for you.
you watched the soap run down your legs peacefully, and a loud crash interrupted you, your body jolting from the loud sound. you turned around quickly, to find a small blurry shadow jumping in the doorframes view.
“milo, ¡deja de hacer un desastre!” you yelled as you held your heart. (stop making a mess.)
you wiped the fog away from the shower walls glass with your hand, eyeing the bedroom from afar and before you could scold your cat again you saw a taller shadow come into view and walk past by the door. a chill ran down your spine, eyes widening in fear. that’s when the puzzle pieces connected; and you realized this whole time the scratching on your door wasn’t your cat.
and with a squeak you pulled the lever, the hot shower coming to an end. you reach for your towel, wrapping it around your fresh body as you stepped out. you slowly squeaked the bathrooms door opened, eyeing your bedroom.
you pushed past the door and into your bedroom that connected with your bathroom.
you noticed the door was wide open; inspecting the room you also spotted your lamp on the floor. you kneel down, picking up the lamp and grasping onto it tightly. “milo?” you whisper, your cat meowing in response. you sigh in relief, your cat was huddled up in your bed sheets.
you checked around the house slowly, then heading downstairs to slowly look in all the directions; aware of an intruder. you searched for the light switch, whining as you couldn’t find it. “hello?” you called out, but were met with silence.
you touched the walls and navigated yourself with the nightlights scattered around the house, feeling up a cold and dense surface and finally switching on the actual light. you blinked, eyeing the living room as you breathed in. your head was playing games with you, you laughed.
you turned around - a heavy weight attacking you in a blink of an eye, tackling you while they strangled you. you gasped, dropping the lamp as it shattered beneath you as your back collided with the wall.
“trick or treat.” a low voice rumbled as a hand quickly crept over your mouth, the knife resting on the pulse of your throat, muffling back your terrified scream. “fight back and i’ll slit your throat little girl.” his voice dipped menacingly as you struggled to move a muscle.
you panicked; your body disobeying your commands to move or even do something. you found yourself submitting, your heart pounding from the inside of your chest. eyes quivering in pure fear.
with a blurry eyesight, you managed to make out the same figure from earlier. huge, tall, broad and masculine.
your head wasn’t making up things.
but that’s not the only thing you noticed.
you made out a ghostface mask like in the horror movies, and the sharp knife in his hand pointed right at your throat. your breath hitched.
although the mask was freaky, it was oddly attractive.
he slowly dropped his hand from your mouth, testing you. “w-what do you want from me?” you asked, voice hoarse and shaky, trying to make yourself sound calm and confident but you failed miserably.
“want what’s in fronna me.”
“m-me?” you mumbled, holding onto your towel tightly.
“yes, you.”
“why.. me?” you asked, “because you look delicious.” he tittered, smirking underneath his mask as his hand lingered your soft body.
“delicious? a-are you going to eat me?” you asked with rosy cheeks. the male sighed, almost laughing at your response.
“eat here.” he whispered, trailing his finger down to your towel and towards your clothed mound.
oh.
you felt yourself internally heat up, you looked up at him. “is that what you want and you’ll let me go?” you asked quietly.
“i’ll pull some strings for you, perhaps lend you an alliance.” he hummed, slightly applying more pressure onto your neck as the knife indented your skin; a wince slipped out of mouth and you gulped, “promise to not hurt me after..?”
“you have my word, princess.” he uttered huskily, tilting his head to the side to admire you. “okay..f-fine.” you slowly say, already riled up from the tension between the two of you as you practically offer yourself to him.
n with that, he lowered the weapon from your neck as you felt the weight thrown your shoulders, exhaling in relief. he picked you up, throwing your body onto the couch as he bestrides your hips; making sure you have no where to escape.
you steadied your breaths, eyeing his every move. you felt shy, but his dominance eased your insecurity of being completely inexperienced. he lowered himself, as if to kneel before you; further until he settled in between the junction of your legs. he tore of the towel from your lower body, completely revealing you.
the only piece of fabric that was covering you was now gone, and you felt naked. a rush of arousal pumped your bloodstream as his digits slid through your already-slick folds, middle finger rubbing past your clit. he watched you, his arm wrapping around your thigh securely.
he slowly lifted the mask as you caught a glimpse of his perfect face proportions; bronzed skin, and plump lips attaching to the skin on your inner thigh, suckling on it before letting go with an echoey pop, marking his territory. he was slow, yet oddly ferocious when nearing your pussy.
he licked a long stripe amongst your slit, as he inhaled your alluring scent. “que sabrosa.” he murmured, shoving his face into your cunt. your thighs jerked closed feeling his tongue lap messily at your clit, with his arm he held you wide open and your hips instinctively buck into his mouth. (so tasty.)
“mmph!” you moaned, eyes blowing wide open, you grabbed onto the armrest for support. you felt hazy with the way his wet muscle flicked repeatedly at your nub, delving into your folds and into your puckered hole. he spits on your pussy, tongue swirling the bundle of nerves and teeth gently tugging at the abused pearl. you grew sensitive, grabbing his hair and throwing your head back in ecstasy as the room fills with slurping noises.
your inexperienced body decided that enough is enough; you squealed, thighs securing his head in place as your pussy throbs with your release and he continues to lave you through your high.
you push him off your poor pussy, overstimulated but instead he pushes off your hands; finishing licking off the slimy mess dripping down your entrance. you whine, squirming out of his grasp as he finally lets loose. “sabes tan rica princesa.” he chuckles, licking his lips. (you taste so good princess.)
“didn’t think you’d come so early.” he teases. you blink, catching your breath as you watch him get up; large body towering over you as he puts his mask back in place. he pushes your legs towards your chest and with one hand he unzips his slacks, cock springing free. his fingers spread your folds as his glans ran down gooey entrance, sliding in steadily.
he slips past your hymen, and you feel a sharp pain as if you just got impaled. you latch onto his arm tightly, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. he’s kind enough to wait for you to adjust to the abnormal size of his dick; hand wrapping around your throat as he coos at you. he could tell you weren’t used to having anything inside you with the way you clamped around him so tightly.
he doesn’t wait for long, resting your legs over his bulky shoulders and with a roll of his hips he’s already going at it. you moan, eyes glossy with lust and need as he fucks into you with pace. his hand tightens and you feel the excitement coiling up inside you with the way your oxygen was being cut off.
he rolled his hips so fucking smoothly; his meaty cock thrusting into your sobbing pussy. “feels so fucking good.” he moans, pulling out to flip you over on your knees as he plunges into you again. he yanks your head back, “gonna rail this pussy so good you’ll be limping.” he groans, hips snapping into yours as your ass recoils with each of his thrusts.
he raises a hand to lay a harsh slap on your ass, imprint staining your cheek. your nails dig into the sofas leather, your moans harmonizing with the sound of skin slapping against skin; your eyes roll back as he stuffs his fingers into your mouth dripping with drool. your back arches as his tip nudges into your gspot roughly. electricity shot through your core feeling the coil unwind in your tummy.
“please, slow down — oh shit!“ you holler, body convulsing and milking his cock as he follows behind your intense orgasm. he groans, bringing your ass back to cum inside you nice n deep; emptying out his balls inside you. “that’s it, good girl.” he praises, landing another smack to your ass cheek. you writhe out of his reach and he pushes you off of him, slapping his girthy dick on your clit as you shudder.
he groans, watching his seed drip down your hole as you crawl away. “call the police n’ you’ll be good as dead you hear me?” he murmurs, pulling your head.
“g-got it.” you gulp, hearing shuffling noises as you suppose he’s dressing himself. your sleepy eyes watch him stand up and slip the knife back in his waistband as he walks out the front door, slamming it shut.
₊.⋆☾⋆⁺₊ PART TWO !
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burst-of-iridescent · 2 months
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South Asian and Hindu Influences in ATLA (Part 1)
disclaimer: i was raised culturally and religiously hindu, and though i've tried to do my research for this post and pair it with my own cultural knowledge, i'm not an expert on hinduism by any means. should i mess up, please let me know.
please also be aware that many of the concepts discussed in this post overlap heavily with religions such as buddhism and jainism, which might have different interpretations and representations. as i'm not from those religions or cultures, i don't want to speak on them, but if anyone with that knowledge wishes to add on, please feel free.
it's well-known that atla draws from indigenous, east and southeast asian influences, but something i rarely see discussed in the fandom is the influences the show takes from hinduism and south asia, and there are actually far more than i think people are aware of.
so here's a (non-exhaustive list) of the main inspirations atla drew from south asian culture and hinduism, starting with...
The Avatar
the title of the show itself is taken from the ancient language of sanskrit, often considered the sacred tongue of the hindu religion. in sanskrit, the word "avatar" means to "descend" or "alight".
the concept of the avatar is a very old one, referring to the physical incarnation of a powerful deity or spirit. the idea of the avatar is most often linked to the god Vishnu, one of three supreme hindu gods collectively called the trimurti, or trinity. the avatar is said to manifest upon earth primarily in times of great need, when balance must be maintained between the forces of good and evil.
atla borrows heavily from this idea in having aang be the incarnation of a divine spirit who returns to the world during a time of immense strife, and is tasked with defeating a great evil to bring balance back to the world. and though i don't know if it was an intentional reference, it's interesting to note that Krishna, the most famous incarnation of Vishnu was also reborn amidst a fierce storm and carried through a raging sea to a new home where he would be protected from the king who sought to kill him. sounds a little familiar, doesn't it?
Agni Kai and the Philosophy of Firebending
the word "agni" derives from the sanskrit name Agni, the god of fire, though it can also generally mean "fire".
the concepts of lightning bending and the sun being the source of firebending are likely also taken from the idea of Agni, since he's said to exist simultaneously in three different forms on three different dimensions: as fire on earth, as lightning in the atmosphere, and as the sun in the sky.
Agni is a significant aspect of many rituals, including marriage rites, death rites, and the festivals of holi and diwali. the concept of Agni is one of duality: life and death, rebirth and destruction. hindu rituals accept and celebrate both aspects, revolving around the idea that destruction is not separate from creation, but rather necessary to facilitate it. the cremation of the dead, for instance, is seen as purification, not destruction: burning away the physical form so the soul is unencumbered, set free to continue the reincarnation cycle.
this influence can be seen in the firebending masters episode, which discusses the idea of fire being vital to life. the sun warriors safeguarding the original fire and demanding that zuko and aang bring fire to the dragons as a sacrifice could also reference the ritual of Agnihotra - the ritual of keeping a fire at the home hearth and making offerings to it. the purpose of this ritual differs depending on which text you refer to, but it is generally believed to purify the person and atmosphere in which it is performed, similar to how zuko and aang must make offerings to ran and shaw and survive their fire before being deemed worthy and pure.
Agnihotra is said to serve as a symbolic reminder of the vitality and importance of fire as the driving force of life, a lesson that zuko and aang also internalize from their encounter with the dragons.
Bumi
bumi's name is taken from the sanskrit word "bhumi", which means "earth". it's also the name of the hindu goddess of the earth, bumi or bhudevi.
one of the things the original animation didn't do and which i really enjoyed about the live action was that they made bumi indian and added desi inspiration to omashu. it makes perfect sense for a king whose name is as hindu-inspired as they come.
NWT Royal Palace
chief arnook's palace in the northern water tribe takes inspiration from the gopurams of hindu temples, massive pyramidal structures that served as entrance towers to the temple.
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gopurams were built tall enough to be seen for miles around, beacons to signal tired or weary travellers who wished for a place to rest that a temple was nearby. it's a nice touch that the chief's palace is located in front of the spirit oasis, a similarly symbolic entryway to a sanctuary housing otherworldly deities.
Betrothal Necklaces
to preface: i doubt this was an intentional reference, and this great post talks about other cultures that could have inspired the water tribe betrothal necklaces. given the desi influence in the nwt architecture however, i figured it was worth mentioning.
the idea of betrothal necklaces being given to women by their male partners is similar to the thaali, a necklace given to hindu wives by their husbands. during hindu weddings, grooms tie the thaali around their brides' necks to symbolize their marriage. once given, wives are expected to wear their thaali till the day they die, as doing so is believed to bring good luck, health and prosperity to their husbands.
Chi-Blocking
though chi-blocking takes primary inspiration from the art of Dim Mak, it is also influenced by the south indian martial arts forms of adimurai and kalaripayattu, both of which include techniques of striking vital points in the body to disable or kill an opponent.
kalaripayattu also shares parallels with firebending, being a very physically demanding, aggressive martial art that emphasises the importance of discipline and mental fortitude. control of the mind is essential to control of the body, a philosophy similar to that espoused by iroh across the show.
Wan Shi Tong's Library
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the library draws inspiration partly from the taj mahal, the famous mausoleum constructed by shah jahan during the mughal empire as a monument to his beloved wife, mumtaz mahal.
i'll end this post here since it's getting too long as it is, and the following section will be even longer. for while atla treated the concepts in this post with respect, the same unfortunately cannot be said for its depiction of guru pathik and combustion man - both of which we'll be discussing next.
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vindelllas · 17 days
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a brief exploration of the amatyakarakas 🍸
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🍸note: any information regarding amatyakaraka placements should be treated lightly, as a good portion of these celebrities do not have verified birth information. i calculated all of the following celebrities with unverified birth times assuming they were born at noon their time!
🍸the amatyakaraka does not share the immense physical focus of the atmakaraka, but serves as the knight (amatyakaraka) to the king (atmakaraka), as it controls much of the labor/work of the chess of life. it is a karaka designed to aid you in picking a field or hobby that can allow you to fully express the passions of your graha. It is the helpful hand that guides you to who you truly are, in this post i focus on the overarching lessons of this placement.
brihaspati amatyakaraka
🌾 aesthetic: the liberation of the femme fatale
🌾 key components: shares similar characteristics to the femme fatale archetype of brihaspati atmakarakas, but inwardly is garnished with the liberated qualities of brihaspati. this is a placement of timing, expansion, and immense growth in the lens of one's work ethic. this is ultimately why these natives are known for their adventurous (and sometime controversial yet successful) business ventures, e.g. kendall jenner's "818" brand and lana del rey's controversies throughout her musical journey, which are centered around intrinsic learning via the external public eye.
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shani amatyakaraka
🪐 aesthetic: the theater of love
🪐 key components: it shares the sensual hollywood starlet aesthetic of shani atmakarakas but this karaka's lesson lies in what they pour themselves into. they excel at possessing the drive and willpower to succeed in their respective fields, but are not without controversy in their private lives. this is emphasized by megan thee stallion's wrongful sh*oting, selena gomez's ex, nicki minaj's infamous husband, julia fox's former partner kanye west, etc.. their incessant focus on their future and work, often leaves much instability in their personal lives outside of their everyday routines.
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surya amatyakaraka
🌞 aesthetic: the intersection of promiscuity and materialism
🌞 key components: this placement is similar to the materialism noted in surya atmakaraka natives, but is further heightened by this karaka's penchant for promiscuity. this placement's immensely influential nature and general desire to lead/test others can manifest as a form of sex*al temptation of those around them. from professions of acting to involvement in adult industries to modeling, there is a great need to shine their rays onto those around them. the dichotomy agni (the sun) being of purification and knowledge and soma (the moon) being water and nourishment come into play here. the sun wishes to purify and empower those around them through lessons of spiritual teachings. the general focus of the mouth in the photos of surya amatyakarakas is reflective of the mouth being the vessel of soma/the consumer of water. to achieve the purification of agni, you must first be watered spiritually.
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kuja amatyakaraka
☄️ aesthetic: the mysticism confidence
☄️ key components: drawing upon the lessons of kuja atmakarakas, a certain confidence is emphasized within this placement. this confidence lies in taking immense risks and undergoing challenging situations for the betterment of your career, talents, and desires. this is evidenced by amber heard's career-challenging court case and jennifer lawrence's recounts and statements about w*instein. this placement is not without its controversy, but it is a placement of willingness to endure immense controversy for personal gain often without the lesson-emphasis of brihaspati amatyakarakas which results in much healing being needed later on.
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buddha amatyakaraka
🌑 aesthetic: the ubiquity of feminism
🌑 key components: learning from the misunderstood lalita, this placement emphasizes a certain call to seeking maturation of the self through a higher power and intellectualism. this placement is symbolic of the overt dichotomy of girlhood-womanhood, these natives personify this experience through their accounts of the male gaze, longings for more expansion within themselves, and consuming all the external rays of others for the purpose of bettering and finding themselves (as buddha does to surya).
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shukra amatyakaraka
🍓 aesthetic: the languish of luxury
🍓 key components: this placement indicates a certain affinity yet boredom of the luxurious properties of shukra. it causes many celebrities who grow into financial success to possess a coupled, sometimes delayed, distaste of the spotlight/fame. think of selena quintanilla who grew popular with ease compared to her latina musician counterparts but continued to maintain a relatability to the public (similar to cardi b who is still considered "surprisingly relatable" despite being immensely wealthy compared to the general public).
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chandra amatyakaraka
🌙 aesthetic: the insatiable pitfalls of revolution
🌙 key components: these women often serve as role models to individuals through their presence in the media, but often serve as a lesson to the pitfalls that come with being "revolutionary". recall alexis ren who revolutionized mid-2010's social media and fashion yet struggled privately with her eating d*sorder. additionally, kaley cuoco was popularized for her role in "the big bang theory" yet too struggled with her eating habits. this is why some vedic astrologers theorize chandra to be associated with eating d*sorders, as yes soma seeks to nourish, but this nourishment (coupled with the drive/talent/profession denoted in the amatyakaraka) results in a potential for restricting soma (nourishment) to feel in control of one's surroundings--that is one's profession or environment.
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🍸all of these placements were found using astrotheme/.com and/or astro-charts/.com. it is important to note that some chandra (moon) placements may be off by up to 6 degrees and lagnas (ascendants/rising signs) as well, due to the fact that many websites do not have 100% accurate birth times for the given celebrities.
🍸i am additionally offering readings again for a limited amount of time! if you are interested in a reading, please privately message me. thank you all for all of your patience! please expect the color analysis post soon since it won the pole <3
xoxo,
angel 💋
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57sfinest · 1 year
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theoretical entroponetics: the post
okay. LONG post incoming. i have summarized all available information on the pale, separated into confirmed objective truth & in-canon speculation that may or may not be true, and then appended my own very detailed theory on the pale! this post is meant as a resource; please feel free to add things of your own in replies/reblogs (please tag me if you do!) or point out any errors i may have made. you’re welcome to use any of my personal theory in your own work but please credit me if you do!! (and tag me in that/send it to me, i really want to see what you do with it!)
Here’s what we *know* about the pale, according to in-game and concept art: 
It erases data, at least the kind stored on radiocomputer filament and magnetic tapes.
It has no dimensions of its own- pale latitude compressors serve to force dimensions on raw pale and allow navigation. 
The pale is referred to in the context of entropy
It arrived with mankind, but not immediately- there are 8000 years of written history, but the pale was first recorded 6000 years ago, implying that pale either didn’t start forming immediately or that it was so insignificant/distant that it went unnoticed for 2000 years. 
There exists a group of people who are actively trying to expedite entroponetic collapse; the ideology is called entropolism
To this point, pale isn’t immediately visible. Pale has molecular structure, but manifests as a waveform, and only becomes visible at a certain distance from the origin, once wave frequency is sufficiently high. 
During pale exposure, people experience “sense objects”: visual or auditory hallucinations and/or vivid physical recollections of memories. These hallucinations may originate from their own consciousness or someone else’s. c
People require physical and mental examinations before interisolary travel and are allotted a certain number of days per year as their pale exposure threshold. 
Overexposure results in a pale “addiction”- these individuals crave pale exposure, and it’s unclear if this addiction can ever be broken. It’s also unclear whether there is a point at which pale exposure becomes lethal, but given that it dissolves matter, we can be fairly certain that a given length of continuous exposure will kill. 
Radio signals, cold plasma torches and anodic sound are all used to manage the pale to permit travel through it. Plasma torches destabilize the molecular structure of the pale to create gaps, anodic sound widens and maintains these gaps, and radio signals rationalize the pale into recognizable dimensions.
Radio signals are, in return, susceptible to corruption by the pale, resulting in entroponetic crosstalk, where signals from the past or the future are transmitted to the present. CCP is one such phenomenon and is directly related to the formation of new pale through magpie interpretation.
There is a dedicated Union for people who work in and with the pale (the Pale Workers Union). They have two slogans; “The light purifies; The sound absolves; The pale no more” and “Son et Fureur” (sound and fury)
Here’s what we may choose to believe about the pale, based on the thoughts and beliefs of in-game characters:
In conversation with Soona, the pale is described as a “curdling milk” phenomenon: “repulsive, but natural”
In this same conversation you can theorize that the churches were meant to contain the pale origins; out of the seven churches, six were destroyed during the suzerain or the revolution
The phasmid and whatever other lifeforms it’s communicated with believe that entroponetic collapse is comparable to an oxygen holocaust (i.e. the great oxygenation event), implying mass extinction due to a toxic overabundance of sapient thought
Harry refers to it once by saying “The wolf is at the door. It’s going to eat the sun.” so take that as you will
It’s likely that Tiago’s “Mother” is some manifestation from the pale, if you choose to believe that the 2mm hole is in fact a pale origin point (the concept art does confirm it’s a pale origin, but the game offers other explanations, so I won’t say it’s the only answer)
Inframaterialists believe that revolutionary action (NOT thought) may create a counter-force that will prevent the spread of pale; it’s unclear if any reversal is possible.
The world will be fully consumed by the pale in 27 years (I put it here because you may or may not believe that shivers and harry are reliably sourcing this information)
And now my personal speculation about the pale:
A quick and easy point: it’s confirmed that the pale has a measurable EMF “exhalation” frequency that varies with proximity. Strong enough EMF pulses can actually tamper with magnetic storage- radiocomputer filaments! Electronics! Fortress Accident data loss! This gives us a tangible explanation for why pale can delete data :)
This may also explain its ability to cause radio interference- radio frequencies are just a subset of EMF frequencies, so it’s possible that pale exhalation on *just the right frequency* is what’s responsible for the entroponetic crosstalk we get on radios sometimes
The pale canonically has an atomic structure, but it also has wave properties, so it’s possible that the pale has wave-particle duality on its subatomic level, like photons do
Based on this, entroponetics is likely a very similar field to quantum mechanics, which might be an interesting source of ideas for anyone (like me) who wants to explore pale-related possibilities
The pale could be a manifestation of raw patterns. That’s why math “forces dimensions” on it- it rationalizes or “tames” the patterns, which allows it to be manipulated to a certain degree.
There are several references to the pale that refer to mathematical concepts and patterns, saying that the world dissolves into “a tangle of azimuths and cosines” as it blends into the interisolary pale- more on this later
Steban comments that the pale is commonly theorized to be nostalgia or “historical inertia”, but it’s largely agreed that it’s “the past” in a broad sense. Thinking about the idiom that history repeats itself, it could be that history/the past is part of the pattern that comprises the pale, and that it’s also the type of pattern most readily perceived by people (people don’t viscerally *perceive* math, for example, but we experience memories)
To first define entropy: Chemically speaking, “the measure of a system’s thermal energy per unit temperature that is unavailable for doing useful work. (per encyclopedia britannica).” Physically speaking, it’s a measure of randomness or disorder in a system. Less work/less order = more entropy; it’s a physicochemical “winding down” of a given system
It’s commonly thought that pale is the entropic force, but what if it’s the opposite? (Keep in mind the chemical definition: less ability to do work = more entropy) Consider: the pale as less entropic, a cleanup force, recycling the potential lost by death and destruction in the universe. This in part explains why a dead person’s memory is present in the pale- their potential has been recycled into the pale in the form of their memories (their life’s *pattern*)
Enthalpy is a related concept to entropy and is defined as the total energy contained within a system. Holding the system enthalpy constant- saying the universe will always have the same amount of total energy, no matter what, according to thermodynamics- results in an entropic tug-of-war between the pale and the world. The pale wins through sheer inertia (again, inertia is mentioned specifically in game)
Overall: think of the world as “cooling”, losing heat and energy through war and death and complacency. Think of the pale as steam and heat, melting down old materials to start it all over again. (Kim says, *through entroponetic interference*: “it’s been a long, cold winter.”)
Consider: the pale as a sinusoidal function, eternally repeating. The pale recycling the universe to start a new cycle, “spending” itself, resulting in pale not being present in the beginning. Then, as the new things begin to settle- with the advent of the human mind, specifically- the pale reforming, slowly reclaiming potential, eventually ending the cycle to start again.
In comes CCP and magpies. Consider: CCP as a backwards transmission from the next “cycle” (after all, pale has no sense of time). Magpies as *pattern-sensitive* people who are able to decode CCP into something useful called novelty. They reach into the potential of the next cycle to build the potential in their current one- this paradox could be what creates more pale, because (and this is where it gets weird, I apologize) doing this retroactively increases the total amount of energy/work/potential in the current cycle to have been reclaimed by the pale for the next one.
Think of the pale as the compost bin for every single thought in the universe. The pale is the exact right size to compost every little atom and thought in the universe, and can hold nothing extra. But magpies reach into the future, the next cycle, and bring in extra. This paradox forces the pale to grow to accommodate the additional material, which also increases the starting potential of the next cycle. This process allows each cycle to accumulate minor changes from the previous one, which can snowball over many cycles.
Furthermore, to the inframaterialists’ point: revolutionary action would be such a radical shift in inertia that it would increase the potential in the world, forcing the pale to pause/shrink to “balance the equation” in terms of pale-vs-world thermodynamics. So maybe they’re right after all :)
And some diagramming, to explain the utter bullshit I’ve just dropped:
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ellavatorz · 1 year
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Fear Me || c.b. x reader
prompt: Colby is there for you when the Stanley hotel becomes too much.
tw/cw: violence, angst-y(?), mainly cute protective colby.
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photo is not mine, found on Pinterest
a/n: this is for @tealeyewonder, ty for requesting this! it was fun to write & I hope you enjoy <3
*
It wasn’t long after you all had arrived that shit began to happen. In fact, it took exactly five minutes into filming for Amanda, Mackie and yourself to begin hesitating in proceeding with the investigation.
The guys—per usual—begged for you all to stick around just “a little longer!” And so here you five were; vibrating with adrenaline and high off of the aura that the hotel room reeked in.
“Colbs, I’m serious. Are you sure we should continue?” you and colby are isolated from the others, pressed against the entrance, just outside of the shared—and one of the infamously haunted—room 428.
He reaches a hand into your hair and tugs a lock behind your ear, breaking the silence with a gentle and monosyllabic “it’s fine.”
With an eye roll, you shovel your hands into the depths of your jacket’s pockets and drill your gaze into him. Seemingly prepared for your rebuke, Colby proceeds with a cautionary voice.
“I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? It’ll just be for a few more hours and then if you really want to, we can find another hotel nearby and book it. Free of ghosts, alright?”
Sighing in defeat, you settle for his reassurance and choose to remain as calm as you can for the rest of the night in the hotel—albeit still littered with deafening ghost trails and paranormal activity.
*
Colby’s voice resonates around the room as he recites an excerpt from some sort of yelp review left by previous guests of the hotel. The girls and yourself huddle together in front of where he sits on the mattress, watching and listening intently.
“It’s said for a male entity to lean over female guests and..” he quirks a brow and chuckles before continuing, “tries to kiss them.”
“What?” You blurt, eyes enlarging in size before the other two girls are laughing. “Naughty ghosts!” You say jokingly.
“Maybe we should dress up as girls tonight?” Colby jokes, and you all begin to feel the air purify it’s way into peace as you continue.
Suddenly, you all decide to move toward the lone, dark and eerie corners of the Hotel, the staircase which is known for its Vortex.
There, Amanda retells a memory of having imagined an entity following Colby around. Shocked, you latch onto his arm and give him a shake.
“Shit, you’re gonna attract all the ghosts tonight!”
His face replicates mortification as the rest of you laugh cheerfully, silently wishing for the idea of your boyfriend having an attachment to fall through.
“There’s definitely someone here already but I can’t make out who it is exactly. They keep hiding behind the handrails.” Amanda states, pointing at the solid fixture just behind you and Colby. Mackey agrees with a hum and drags her gaze elsewhere.
“It feels.. strange.” You murmur, looking at yourself in the reflection of the mirrors. Colby appears behind you, circling your waist with his arms and smiling contently.
“Oh definitely, but look at how cute we look!”
“Colby.” You smack at his shoulder. “Really?”
“What? It’s true.”
“Alright I say we move back to the room and get some footage of the rem pod.” Sam appears from behind you two and the group agrees.
*
“Great,” colby says after he’s finished setting up the equipment. “Again, if anything comes and touches this device it’ll light up and make a bunch of noise.”
You all nod in understanding, deciding to stand a good distance away from the footing of the bed where the device lies. Instantly, the REM Pod goes off, the red light shining along with it.
“Hello?” Sam greets, mouth wide open in shock. “Do you recognize us? We’ve been here before..”
“Nah, he only cares about girls, man!” Colby jokes, though the device begins sounding off. The girls and yourself move back, stunned at the reaction.
“Holy shit, did it just agree with what you said?” You look over to Colby in surprise. He nods, just as startled as you.
“Do you like girls? Kissing them?” You ask, biting your lip in anxiousness.
The device goes off.
“Do you like us being here?” Amanda asks.
It’s silent.
The five of you share a look before Sam continues. “Can you do something to show us who you are? Are you Flora?”
You room stills, air suddenly thickening with something akin to a suffocating material being held against your face. You blanch are the feeling, trying your best to shake it off until there’s a bang just inches behind you.
The five of you turn in fear and you immediately dart to Colby’s side, feeling an intense amount of pressure in your head. “Okay guys, my head is seriously killing me.”
Mackie gasps, pointing a finger in your direction while moving closer to you. Colby wraps an arm around your middle, turning you to face him as he analyzes your features.
“Your nose is bleeding,” he notes aloud and you frown. “Are you okay?”
“No I just—I don’t know? I felt weird and then the noise happened.” You explain, holding a napkin to your nose that Mackie had gotten for you. Sam brings the camera close to your face, to which you scowl at.
“Dude, give me space will you?” You mutter and Sam apologizes, moving away and pointing the camera towards the other girls instead.
Colby worries his lip, chewing at the skin with a drive to settle his concern. You pat his shoulder, reassuring him that you’re fine.
The series of questions continue but still, your headache worsens and the air doesn’t feel any lighter.
“Did you follow us from somewhere else?” Sam questions. There’s a pregnant pause before the device begins going off. You make eye contact with Amanda as she steps forward to shut off the device.
“That’s enough,” she states firmly, eyeing the duo before requesting the cameras to be turned off. Sam agrees begrudgingly, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress along with Colby and Mackie. You and Amanda stand close, her hand wrapping around your wrist protectively.
“I don’t feel safe here anymore. I think we should take a break.” She says and Colby tilts his head, brows furrowed.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“There’s something here and I don’t want to talk about it.” Amanda huffs, looking towards the door. You distribute your weight from one foot to another anxiously.
“Maybe we could come back later? Let’s just take a breather outside—“
“Y/N, what’s on your arm?” Sam ponders and reaches to bring you closer to the flashlight.
You look down and notice a slew of thinly sourced abrasions on your forearm. “What the hell?”
“This isn’t right, we have to go.” Amanda urges, to which you all hurriedly concur, rushing for escape.
It’s when you’re one foot out of the door that you’re suddenly shoved and sent crashing into Colby’s back. Being the last one out, you physically startle and feel your hands beginning to tremble.
“I just—it just pushed me,” you stammer, eyes darting behind you to where the door to the room is shut. Amanda pulls you in close and recites a quick prayer before pulling you into her embrace.
After everything that had happened to you, Colby had had enough. His body began to boil with a protective instinct as he rushed back into the room, heart slamming against his chest.
“I dont care who you are or what you are, but you have no right to touch us. I didn’t give you permission and you sure as fucking hell don’t deserve it. You can’t follow us home and you better not follow us to any other location either.” He sneered, voicing his thoughts aloud to a visibly empty room.
“Colby,” Sam tries, placing a hand on his shoulder in attempt to pull him out, only to be shaken off and ignored when Colby continues.
“You could’ve touched me, hurt me, or whatever the fuck— but you touched Y/N and that’s where I draw the line. Get your disgusting ghoul fucking hands off of them and don’t ever touch them again.”
Staggering back with a winded breath, Colby returns to your side and holds you tightly between his arms. You reciprocate the action and try to smile, though it comes out as more of a lopsided grin.
“Thank you, colby.” You manage to utter from where he holds you against his chest. He sighs, clearly affected by your experience. You nudge him off gently before pulling him along with the rest of the group; moving to the entrance of the hotel without hesitation and making a beeline to the car.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” Colby murmurs once you’ve all packed into Sam’s rented vehicle. You and Colby sit thigh to thigh in the farthest pair of seats. “I promised I would.”
“Colby, it isn’t your fault. Amanda didn’t even know what it was, so seriously.. you couldn’t have known that was going to happen.” You ease his worry with a hand to his leg, rubbing miscellaneous shapes into the fabric of his jeans.
“I just wish it didn’t happen that way. I wanted this to be fun for you. And.. and I was hoping we could’ve had a small investigation together at some point in the night.”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d guess this was Colby’s attempt at convincing you that he’s fine. However, you know him all too well to know that his facade is weakening with every thought that washes through him. The pout in his voice is nearly visible before you’re leaning in to place a kiss to his cheek. Pulling his gaze to you by gripping his chin gently, you smile at him.
The soft look he shares with you is enough for you to see just how much love he holds for you in the blue ocean of his eyes. Inviting yourself to dive into him, you lean your head against his shoulder and pull his arm closer.
“You don’t always have to be the hero, Colby. I know you love and care about me, but there’s always going to be things that you just can’t protect me from.” You say, and feel his weight drop to comfort. Smiling to yourself, you squeeze his hand.
“I love you, and thank you for bringing me along today. Despite it all, I enjoyed my time spent hunting ghosts.. just.. maybe next time we won’t visit a spirit who seems to have it out for girls who are taken, hm?”
At that, Colby chuckles. His fingers intertwine with yours impossibly tighter and he leans down to kiss the crown of your head.
“I love you too. And I promise I won’t put you in any more danger. No more mean grumpy ghosts. Maybe just the creepy kid ones.”
“Sick, no.” Sam calls from the front of the car, and you all laugh.
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teriri-sayes · 2 months
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Reactions to Chaos Creator's Chapter 261
New title - 32. What If You Were The Emperor?
TL;DR - Wind AP says Cotton will make a great thief because of her skill in sneaking around. Cale scams the wind elemental of the elf guard into helping them. Cale's group enter the basement. Cale finds something worse than black despair there.
Cotton the Thief It seemed like Cotton had a talent for sneaking around undetected. She casually mentioned that sneaking inside a dragon lair was easier compared to the time she slipped inside the current Demon King's bathroom. Even Wind AP, who used to be a thief, said that Cotton had the makings of a big-time thief. 😂
Cale was impressed by her skill, but was shocked and speechless when he heard her dream. Cotton said that it was her dream to visit the God World in order to search the vault of the God of War... 🤣🤣🤣 Cale, I think the two of you might get along? 😂
Aipotu's Wind Elementals In order to stealthily enter the basement, Cale used his golden top's whip to talk to the wind elementals of Aipotu. He scammed the elf guard's wind elemental into thinking that he received orders from the Wind Elemental King.
After some threats- I mean, conversation, the elf's wind elemental agreed to help Cale secretly enter the basement by not reporting to their elf friend about Cale.
One thing that confused me was if the wind elementals in Cale's world came with him. MTL was confusing in this part, and one of the RIDI comments said that they were not here and it was only the Aipotu ones here. I'm puzzled because we got another strange wind elemental like the "chaos, destruction" wind elemental in Cale's world.
This wind elemental liked to say "Liberation! Freedom!" every single time. I found it amusing that Cale thought the strange wind elementals who constantly say chaos, destruction, freedom, and so on to be good in their work, so he immediately trusted this new wind elemental. He even affectionately called them with "-ah" and "-ya" suffixes (e.g. Liberation-ah, Freedom-ya), treating them like children. 🥰
Ending Remarks Aipotu's wind elementals were cute. The chapter ended with Fire AP wanting to burn the "something that is worse than the black despair" that Cale found in the 3rd basement floor. Oooh, so Cale is about to become the Purifier again? At this rate, White Snake Wisha, who is already in awe at Cale's savior status, might join Caleism by the end of this arc. 😂
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heycarrots · 2 months
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There’s been a lot of discourse about the nature of James and Miranda’s relationship. There’s even been a lot of discussion on my podcast about it. One thing I want to make clear is that my podcast is a platform for discussion on all points of view. I’m not going to agree, 100%, with everything that’s said, but it makes the views of my guests no less valid. There’s no right or wrong, here, because this is art and therefore, it is subject to interpretation.
My intent, however, is to attempt to get as close to the original intent of the actors as possible because we look at a show or a film or a play as going through several layers of distillation. Each level purifies the intended narrative leaving its truest essence.
When we make a reduction sauce using an alcohol of some kind, let’s say a red wine, the heat applied to it burns off things we don’t need for flavor. You’re never going to get drunk off of red wine reduction because there’s almost no alcohol left in it. That all gets burned off, leaving only the flavor components, which is what we wanted all along, anyway. We want that extra element that enriches the flavor of the steak, by adding nuance.
So let’s take apart that meal.
We start with the birth of the idea. The story kicks around in an author’s head, trying to get out, growing bigger and more persistent until it outgrows the confines of the mental box inspiration is stored in and has to be let out. That idea, that’s the cow.
The author raises that idea, feeds it, watches it grow, and then, ultimately slaughters it. That sounds awful, but once you have that idea pulsing, growing, evolving and then finally commit the final draft on paper, it is a kind of death. The life of the story comes to an end and it becomes memorialized in a mausoleum. Readers will come to visit, spend time with it, lay down flowers, cherish it, and mourn its passing.
The next level is adaptation. That’s the steak. There are many ways you can slice the story, large roasts encompassing the whole story or a smaller, hyper-focused character study fillet mignon.
A writers room gets hold of the cow and carves it up. They choose what gets cooked and what gets tossed. A GREAT group of writers saves the bones. They take in the entire supporting structure of the piece and while the whole story may not make it onto the screen, they will have slow roasted the bones for a stock. When you watch a show like Black Sails, where themes are introduced that won’t fully be explained or explored until several seasons later, that’s what that is. It is the stock being used to flavor the whole dish. You’ve distilled the entire cow to its purest essence and so every scene, every line of dialogue, every acting choice, encompasses the entirety of the story. A line from episode one is defined by knowledge of the finale and in regard to dialogue, defined by an actors’ knowledge of a character’s backstory. There are many writers rooms who are creating the bones of the story as they go, which means they aren’t starting with a rich stock. You can’t trace back character motivations or choices to begin with because those motivations changed throughout production.
Black Sails, again, isn’t one of those shows. Steinberg and Levine came into the writers room with their stock pot full and sloshing, spilling story everywhere. The richness of the details they were laying can make season one a bit hard to consume unless you are ready for a story on that level. Viewers need to come to the table with some bread to sop up all those character details because we WILL need them later.
Over the course of finalizing scripts and blocking out episodes, the steak is cooked. Like any great steak, this story is medium rare. More juice comes out with every bite. It’s what makes the show infinitely rewatchable. It continues to cook on the plate, but because it wasn’t overdone, it never dries out.
When the actors get ahold of it, that’s the reduction sauce we were talking about. That sauce provides nuance and flavor. That’s the emotion. A line of dialogue on a page is just ink. It’s nothing until it’s spoken aloud. And like any bit of language in this world, it’s subject to interpretation. In this case, it’s the actor who does the interpreting.
I spoke on the podcast about the art of subtext and how huge a role it plays in Black Sails. One example we used is Jane Eyre. It’s one of the most frequently adapted novels in the English language and with each adaptation, we get a new version of our characters. The most volatile and subject to change is Rochester. There are MANY versions of Rochester that I find appalling (including the original beast in the book), but each actor has formed him into something else, based on their performance. Toby Stephens takes Rochester and turns him into a silly tragic romantic, broken many times over by a society he never really fits into, despite the status of his birth. He connects with Ruth Wilson’s Jane because she fully and happily inhabits that space on the fringes that Rochester thinks he needs to climb out of. Jane takes his hand on the outside of the wall, turns him away from the guarded palace and shows him the wild world that was at his back this whole time.
This is what Toby Stephens, Luke Arnold, Louise Barnes, Zethu Dlomo, and really all the actors for whom their subtextual choices make them reflect like prisms, have done with their performances.
In the final distillation, character motivations and emotions are finalized by the actor. Writers can pontificate, the source material lies dead in its lovely tomb, but stories live and breathe by their storytellers.
What we’re left with is Toby’s face telling the world how deeply Flint loves Silver. Every single choice tells this story.
We’re left with Luke showing us how much Silver is repressing in his feelings for Flint. Luke’s face shows us an incredible depth of feeling and a door slamming shut.
We’re left with the incredible intimacy between James and Miranda, which speaks of a decade of shared physical intimacy. There’s an openness, a freeness to it until the moment in episode 3 when Miranda learns that James has found the Urca and is leaving soon to pursue it. She gives some of it away when she says “I thought I’d have you all to myself”. She is mourning the loss of intimacy that she only gets in short windows of time. They aren’t strained because James isn’t attracted to her, but because he’s rarely there. She has him for a few days at a time before he’s off on another hunt. The coldness starts from the moment he tells her he’s leaving in a few days because I believe she thinks he won’t be coming back, that this is the hunt he won’t survive and she’ll finally have lost both James and Thomas. From the moment Richard Guthrie darkens her door, she’s looking for a way to weaponize him and get them out. For her, it’s a race against the clock and she’s willing to sacrifice a bit of her relationship with James in the present to secure happiness for them in the future.
This is also why James still has sex with her before leaving, even though he’s furious for her reading Meditations to Richard. This is how they connect. They connected through physical intimacy in the flashbacks, as well. Him stroking her thumb in the carriage before the kiss. Tactile contact to seal their understanding of each other. Miranda bracing her hands on his chest during important moments in the Hamilton’s home, something she also does to Thomas, to show physical connection, physical intimacy. Miranda thrives on physical touch.
To think that, for 10 years, James is lying there like an object for Miranda to use, is, to me, short sighted. To think that James doesn’t love Miranda outside of a group, is also ignoring the fact that, 10 years on, James will not leave on a hunt (angry as they both are) without physically connecting with her, trying so hard to reach beyond his anger and the wound freshly opened from sight of that book he’s chosen not to look at for probably the better part of those 10 years. The way his hands hover over her back after she comes and he desperately wants to be with her in that moment, like the best of their moments, but he just can’t, speaks to the depth of his love for her.
So many fans of the show point to this sad sex scene as one of the most important character moments for James and Miranda, but I consistently come to the opposite conclusions about WHY it’s important and what we learn from it, because I’m taking my cues from the actor’s choices, not the director or the writers. On the page, in plain ink, he hates having sex with her. Toby and Louise show us, however, that they are trying to recapture a thing that is fleeting, reaching out to each other to patch up an old wound from which the scab has been picked off, leaving it seeping and raw.
From Toby’s performance, regardless of the words he uses years later to describe it, we see not a character who “loves men” or a character who “loves women”, but a character who LOVES. I don’t see Flint defining that love in terms of boxes and parameters. He’s a character who must be coaxed out, but then loves without reason, without a safety net, as he proves with his love of Silver. As was also referenced by a guest on the podcast, he places a sword in Silver’s hand and says “do it”.
Anyway, this post got away from me and took several turns, but the love between James and Miranda being dismissed by so many in the fandom has been bugging me for a while and I just needed to emotionally vomit on tumblr.
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Not to be THAT person
But Harumi's backstory was clearly written by someone who did not watch the very first season of Ninjago
She claims that when she was a child she was a fan of the Ninja, she had their toys and everything
She said that when the Great Devourer came, the ninja failed to do their jobs, and Garmadon stepped in
Meanwhile (in season 1)
During the attack of the Great Devourer no one knew of the existence of the ninja
In fact
It was during that attack that they became known, that's when they were seen for the first time through the news
And it wasn't until season 5 that they became famous, had their own toys, and made appearances on TV
Furthermore
The phrase "Ninja Never Quit" was not a public thing until Zane said it at the very end of season 3
Harumi's obsession with Garmadon makes sense, but her hatred of the Ninja, especially Lloyd (who, during season 1, was barely participating in the fight due to still being a child), makes absolutely no sense to me
And that loophole could have been SO easily avoided, if Harumi's backstory had just been about idolizing Garmadon because of what he did, instead of trying to make it personal
It would have been perfect if Harumi's hate towards Lloyd had been just because he purified Garmadon, or because he released Pythor, who released the Great Devourer, who killed her parents
But nooooo
It needed to be complicated
I'm sorry for rambling but it just bothers me so much
I don't really like Harumi, but her backstory is so confusing that i needed to point it out
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ascendingaeons · 1 month
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Hymn to Sekhmet
by Joey Rivers (ascendingaeons)
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O Sekhmet, Great Eye of Ra, the First and the Last Healer and Destroyer, Mother and Daughter You Who accepted the Command of Ra, Your Father To cleanse the Two Lands of Isfet But Your nature was too mighty, Great of Strength as You Are Wanton and unrestrained, You ravaged Earth as a purifying flame And as Ra looked on and saw His Eye, He was stricken with pause By the Will of the Sun, Your Rage was quieted by a crimson brew And into transformative slumber You fell, Great Goddess And from Your great Rage, Het-Heru rose A new Eye was christened, of eros sublime And you, Great Mother, knew the sadness of regret
You, Great Goddess, know the measure of rage unbound And so You Stand, Great Mother of War, in defense and duty Of the Principles and Consequences of Ma’at Your Children are many, Great Lady of Life Diverse in their multitudes, empowered by their tribulation
Yours is the soldier, Your Mighty Sekhem made flesh and bone Entrenched in a maelstrom of fire and blood Returning home to a nation that does not understand him
Yours is the survivor, a living branch of Your burning Will triumphant Endeavoring to rise above the quagmire of loss and agony Through You their struggle is transmuted into the golden light of ka ascendant
Yours is the mother, she who knows sacrifice and sleepless nights A font unyielding of love and pride, of smiles and laughter perfected They who bear the weight of the world so a child can know childhood
Yours is the healer, an alchemist of the ontological persuasion He who is humbled by the frailty beholden to human experience He who ushers Your Sekhem through the riptide of transformative loss
Yours is the artist, through whose passions course Your Divine Fire Who walks the scales of inspiration and madness, knowing Creation unfiltered An alchemist versed in the milieus of perception
For You, Great Goddess, are the very Force of Change You are that which makes men tremble so Such an unnecessary fear, of wisdom and experience untouched Were I You, I would feel such sadness But how You smile, Great One! How You laugh! How You fight! You are not “she who cowers before Apep!” NO! You are the Great Lioness Who rends Chaos asunder! You fight and rage and bite and tear Passion and emotion alive and unrestrained!
You are Love, Great Goddess You are Fear, Great Goddess You are Devotion, Great Goddess You are Loss, Great Goddess You are Health, Great Goddess You are Sickness, Great Goddess This is why I call You the Mother of Life Your Ka is the very essence of experience! Your Sekhem is the very wind of change!
When I first called upon You, timid and unsure, I beheld Your Gaze, a window of fire open before my face And as quickly as You Saw me, You left And again when I called to You with offering of water and bread Exhausted by grief and devotion, tirelessly sung from a caregiver’s heart You came to me and my eyes were opened to You! As I lay without sleep, You stood at my bedside Stroking my back with strong hands of fire Whispering strength and courage into my ear As a sentinel You walked with me, a Mother Lioness guarding Her cub Such loyalty and tenderness You showed And my eyes were forever opened to Your nature
You are the very Force of Creation, the Monad of Being From which stems those primordial principalities Love and Fear, Physis and Logos, Known and Unknown Order and Disorder, Life and Death, Dynamism and Stasis
I offer henu to You, Great Goddess of Creation The endless potentiality and movement of the living cosmos The Fires Divine that Become living sinews and living earth
I offer henu to Your Husband Ptah, the Cosmic Smith Patron of artisans, of those who tirelessly toil In the pursuit of Bringing Into Being but a shard of the Sacred Unmanifest
I offer henu to Your Son, the Beautiful Nefertem The Ageless Lotus that rose from the Benben Stone The First Splendid Light to Shine in the churning Waters of Nun
It was You Who held my right hand as I accepted the mark of a healer And embraced me as a Mother would Her graduating son I offer You my pain, Great Goddess So that You may transmute it into Strength I offer You my fear, Great Goddess So that You may transmute it into Courage I offer You my uncertainty, Great Goddess So that You may transmute it into Wisdom
Into Your Belly I give of myself to unleash my greatest potential To burst from Your Bosom, shining and emboldened For there is nothing that is beyond Your Reach, Great Mother It is for me, now, to See that nothing is beyond my own
Dua Sekhmet! Dua Sekhmet! Dua Sekhmet!
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Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind: Why This is My Favourite Ghibli Movie
CW: Major high-school English teacher vibes ahead. Proceed at your own risk.
Nausicaä of the valley of wind is a story of the titular character Nausicaä and her being a bridge between the world of humans and nature to bring peace, thus fulfilling an ancient prophecy.
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Nausicaa is the princess of the Valley of the Wind. The film begins with her walking and exploring the Sea of Decay, an area with toxic air, plants and fungal spores. She collects some spores and finds the hard molten shell of an Ohmu (gigantic blue-blooded trilobite-looking creatures), which her people use to make weapons and tools. As the name suggests, the Valley of the Wind is a civilisation that depends on and bases their culture around wind, which one can see through an abundance of windmills and gliders, including the one that Nausicaä rides. They are shown to be peaceful people who do not interfere with the politics of the warring human kingdoms or disturb nature. Nausicaä in particular is shown to have a special gift with animals—from calming Ohmus to having a pet fox-squirrel. As the existence of the kingdom depends on the sea wind that shields them from the effects of the sea of decay, there is a general reverence towards nature and its other members such as the Ohmus, that are often referred to with honorifics.
This was an element I liked: the symbolism goes deep in this film; for example, with the nature of wind—it being the very breath necessary for life is contrasted with its other face, through toxic spores in the sea of decay capable of killing anyone who inhales it.
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It is revealed that humans had built The Giant Men, weapons so dangerous—not unlike our atomic bombs as shown through the characteristic mushroom cloud—that the destruction caused by the war had unleashed the fury of the Ohmus, an otherwise gentle species. They wiped out entire civilisations and where they died, the Sea of Decay grew on their decomposing corpses, showing how all life is interconnected and that even in death the rage of the Ohmus, and through them the rage of nature, wouldn't subside. It is then that the viewers find out that this is not some far-off planet, but a post-apocalyptic future on earth.
New species of plants and fungi made the Sea of Decay their habitat—nature and life always find a way. It is implied that the humans lost the war referred to as the Seven days of Fire, but the truth is that it is not a war that can ever be won. Even if you win the war against nature you lose. As the story progresses, we see that the plants and fungi that Nausicaä collected from the Sea of Decay are actually trying to purify the soil and water—nature holds no grudges but only seeks balance.
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The seventh of the Giant Men, a sentient atomic bomb if you will, apparently hid underground for a thousand years until the kingdom of Pejite found it for use against their enemy, the Tolmekians. They both remain oblivious to the sheer destruction that can be caused by this Giant Man and they don't care either. Despite the balance between humans and nature being a delicate one, instead of trying to rebuild together, they justify to themselves that the war is necessary for self-preservation and to put humans back on top of the food chain.
In their hubris, the Tolmekians and their princess Kushana believe that with the help of their superweapon they can destroy the Sea of Decay despite knowing that it will trigger the wrath of the Ohmus. The Giant Man however is not complete and hence, though the devastation is great, the final giant man dies and all that is remains to be done is to calm the wrath of the Ohmus.
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Nausicaä saves an Ohmu child who was injured by Tolmekian soldiers to lure the Ohmus into a war. She saves the baby Ohmu and sacrifices her own life to calm the sea of maddened Ohmus. The now-calm Ohmu then revive Nausicaä, symbolising the mystical healing power of nature and its ability to support and create life.
Nausicaä is an excellent protagonist, and how the trope of the chosen one is utilised is beautiful and full of symbolism. Right from the get-go, we see her being inquisitive and brave. She is willing to defend her people but not through violence. And it is made abundantly clear that her avoidance of violence is not due to any lack of strength; when she strikes down the soldiers who killed her father, rather than feeling any sense of pride (as one might expect from a character not used to strength), it sickens her. She shows understanding even towards Kushana, whose men took over her kingdom. She sincerely loves and respects animals and plants.
There was a prophecy among the people of the valley of wind that a person clad in blue over golden fields will save their kingdom and bring peace. And towards the end of the film, Nausicaä's clothes becoming blue with the blood of the baby Ohmu she saved and the golden fields being the tendrils of the Ohmus healing her is poetic to say the least.
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In addition to a good female protagonist, we also get a powerful female antagonist in Kushana, who starts out as a one-note expansionist ruler, but it is revealed that she lost her limbs and got severely maimed by the sea of decay, motivating her to destroy it once and for all. Proud and arrogant, sure, but she has a motive beyond just wanting power and possesses some form of a moral code. In another story she could be the protagonist bravely defending humanity against the evil, alien-esque trilobites and spores.
It was a unique and meaningful choice on Miyazaki's part to symbolise nature through the Ohmus—alien-looking giant insects—instead of something cute and fluffy. Oftentimes humans care more about the conservation of animals that they find cute (pandas over, say, Panamanian golden frogs), but an animal doesn't have to appeal to human aesthetics to be worth conserving.
Absolutely not to be missed is the breathtaking soundtrack by Hisaishi. There are symphonies, techno music, sitar-like instruments and a child's humming, all elevating every scene to give a moving experience.
Ultimately it is an ambitious story that aims to deal with themes of coexisting with nature, the futility and dangers of war, and of how innocent children who should live carefree lives are dragged into it and made heroes. This film is often categorised as falling into the genre of Solarpunk: a literary and artistic movement that centres around building a sustainable future interconnected with nature and community. Although this film does depict violence and wars, it ultimately shows a peaceful future is possible.
Truly a masterpiece. 9/10.
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jayden-killer · 9 months
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YOU LOOK LONELY.. I CAN FIX THAT. (Miguel O'Hara AU!)
summary: Year 2099 and a new A.I. had been lanuched. He is called "Miguel" and he's here to comfort you in your most hard times. But, little you know, he's more than a A.I.
paring: Miguel O'Hara x F! Reader.
A/N: woah there, Detroit: Become Human and Blade Runner combined togheter? Why not, hehehe.
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WHAT'S IT LIKE TO HOLD THE HAND TO SOMEONE? INTERLINKED.
DID THEY TEACH YOU HOW TO FEEL FINGER TO FINGER? INTERLINKED.
DO YOU DREAM ABOUT BEING INTERLINKED?
INTERLINKED.
Year 2099. Bright neon leons illuminated the streets, high skyscrapers were imposing themselves, showing on their huge advertising screens and weather forecast. It was night, and the air smelled of smog. She always believed that all those air purifiers wouldn't be very effective. But now it didn’t matter, because among the crowd of people in the street she walked with her head down, tired eyes that seemed off. Next to her, dozens, no, many more people, ready to start their weekend. They planned to go to nightclubs, drink, have sex, or do something she didn't care about. She heard their laughter in the background, and he could clearly see some guys pushing each other, laughing, and joking in the corner of his eye. She didn’t care. She just wanted to get to her house. Then she gave himself a push and marched more quickly, because she could no longer. She wished to put an end to the terrible sadness in her heart.
"I'm home".
The moment she walked across the threshold of her house the lights went on, lighting up the living room and kitchen. She breathed deeply and threw out the excess oxygen accumulated, also expelling the tension she had accumulated in the day. She looked around, and calmly placed the bag on her raw coffee table until she heard some sweets in the house, yet heavy steps. Her eyebrows leapt up and a smile, a soft smile, fell on her face.
"Miguel," said his name softly. "You’re here."
"I am always here, dear. Ven aquì". The man smiled back and extended his arms in her direction. She didn’t waste any time holding him to herself. Miguel tilted his head to the side and a confused expression landed on his face. " I can feel your heartbeat, and your blood pressure is 61 mmHg. What’s going on, dear?" Miguel’s arms touched her gently, almost as if she were a fragile doll, caressing her hips. Her eyes shone.
"I just missed you, my love" she answered quietly, never stopping looking into his reddish, brown eyes. "That's all".
"I want to help you, mi sol, how can I?"
Miguel blinked, genuinely worried about his partner’s health. He gave her a rough hand in her soft hair and continued to caress her. She stared at him with those eyes that showed true love, felt, and felt good because now it was just her and her Miguel. It was just the two of them in his house while the world was doing who knows what beyond those walls. He sighed, and nodded, answering Miguel’s question. "Oh, no, I’m fine. I just missed you so much".
"I’m here, mi flor, I’m here," he repeated once again, bringing his body to him, a hug that Miguel really felt. His heart pompo more, feeling so close to him the person who had immediately shown him kindness, sweetness. The warmth that emanated from his loved one was comfortable. It was all true for him.
"Do you want to watch a movie? In exactly eight minutes, they’re gonna broadcast the "Bicentennial Man". It’s your favorite movie, right?" Miguel smiled at her, grabbing her hand and gently sitting her down on the sofa. She did not take her eyes off him for a moment: his tall, imposing figure, with large shoulders and trained arms, but she only saw a sweet man who needed great affection. He was perfect in every way.
"Of course I do, but only if you will be next to me to pamper me".
"Absolutely". Miguel landed lightly on the sofa and took a breath. With a gesture of the hand, the television went on, and the channel was rolled into the desired one with a single finger move. The girl got much closer to the man, cuddling up to him, resting her temple on his huge muscular arm. Miguel spent no time surrounding his beloved with that arm, bringing her closer to him. The two remained there, enjoying their presence, occasionally discussing the development of the film, a film that she had reviewed over and over again.
It was now night, the hologram of the clock marked 12.12 am. Miguel’s eyes fell on the figure of his beloved then sleeping companion. He calculated his breath and his heartbeats, and everything seemed normal to him. He was just resting quietly. He understood that his day had been intense, without her telling him, but he didn’t want to hurt her. Because over time he had learned to respect the needs of humans. He had become accustomed to their habits, or rather, to the habits of the one who had welcomed him to his house, without treating him as a slave, without showing racism towards him, just because he was a robot. Yet, he felt real every time he touched himself in the face, fingering his facial features. Every morning it was the same. Her arms picked her up, taking care not to wake her. She looked like an angel, he thought, admiring her as if she really was. How could human beings be such beautiful creatures, so deadly?
"Door, please," he muttered. The door to his room opened like a curtain, closing behind him. She walked calmly to her bed, then rested it on the warm mattress she had heated for her. He pulled the blanket up, and he watched her sleep for a few more minutes. She couldn’t believe it, she was the most beautiful creature he’d seen.
"Rest, my love. I’ll be here with you tomorrow too," he smiled, laying a subtle, soft kiss on her lips. His artificial heart blew, even more, even more the liquid that was contained in his circuits. He lowered the shutters and warmed the home environment a little more. Leaving the room, Miguel headed for his post, where he would recharge for the following day.
"Model 70868". This was what was written horizontally on his desk. He was not comfortable with it. He didn’t feel like a simple robot, something built to serve mankind and satisfy it fully. He didn’t feel like a machine.
"I want to be human".
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mswyrr · 6 months
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THG is the only pop culture story I can think of where the heroes (Katniss and Peeta) are disabled* and their happy ending doesn't require that they be "fixed" in order to be happy. IMO, part of why there's such controversy over the ending of the books in particular is that Collins wrote the pov of Katniss as a woman who is content and loves her life and her spouse and kids, but she's still very clearly mentally ill (and arguably somewhere on the spectrum). She has coping strategies and her life is good, but she will never be "normal" and Collins doesn't let the audience think that.
The one part, where she talks about how she handles the darker days, when she's really struggling, never fails to move me:
I’ll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I’m afraid it could be taken away. That’s when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I’ve seen someone do. It’s like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years. But there are much worse games to play. (Mockingjay, 332)
It's hard to express how important that is to me. Someone doesn't have to be "normal" to lead a good life. Someone doesn't have to be "normal" to have a life worth living, to give and receive love in good ways.
And, so, when people look at the villain in the prequel and say "he's just crazy, that's why he's evil. He's just a psycho, he's nuts," it's so out of place, it's so dissonant to me -- I think that's absolutely not the kind of story Collins would tell, given her prior handling of disability.
I don't think she's suddenly turned into a Victorian writer where you can know someone is evil because they're disabled because the writer thinks disabled people are warped creatures incapable of doing anything but bringing evil into the world. And the way people assert this, as if it's the pure, wholesome, most politically advanced reading of the prequel, is just - it doesn't compute for me. I don't understand how people get there.
I studied (for years) the treatment of mentally ill people in the mid-20th Century US. It was horrific. US forced sterilization and eugenics laws actually inspired N/azi Germany's forced sterilization, eugenics, and mass murder campaigns against mentally ill and disabled people. Nice, normal people have repeatedly convinced themselves that torturing and killing disabled people is how they will "purify" their society - they've done great evil in the name of rooting out the people evil is supposedly located within biologically.
Is it so hard to believe that people with normal brains do evil? Is it truly so impossible? Even in a story where the Games are about how a lot of people, the majority of whom are neurotypical, can be brought, via media presentation and entertainment techniques, into taking pleasure in their participation in evil? It's so hard to fathom that evil can't simply be located in someone being "psycho"?
Ballad already has Dr Gaul, who is evil and clearly neurodivergent. If Snow is too then the message starts to get kind of worrying? IMO, Coriolanus is more effective as a kind of “everyman” as an 18 year old - an example of the incentive structures (rewards and punishments) and propaganda that motivate “normal” people to go along. Of course, he will later become something far worse than that, someone who takes control of this thing, who uses his intimate knowledge of it and his insight into other “normal” people to make it worse, but that’s not the part of his life we see the most of. The part the book focuses on provides what I consider a powerful depiction of how ordinary people are acculturated into corrupt societies.
It's fiction so there's all kinds of interpretations that the text can support and exploring those is good. It's a stronger text because it has ambiguities and can be interpreted more than one way. But the intensity of some of the rhetoric is an unsettling contrast to what I've thought, for over a decade, Collins' themes and pov are as a writer.
*Shame on the films for removing Peeta's physical disability, though; in the books he lost a leg during their first Games
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gravidwithlore · 11 months
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Thinking about pregnancy in religion, but instead of being viewed as shameful, pregnancy is celebrated, revered, and considered holy in itself.
Priests who physically take on their parish's sins and wicked thoughts, their mass and confessions include them being bent over the altar and bred by the worshippers. Their prayers come out as moans of pleasure and rapture, the rhythm of their hymns staccato-ed by the rhythm of hips roughly slapping against each other. When the priest starts to grow round with child they are celebrated, the child considered holy and pure, a redemption of their sins, the village spiritually cleansed through the time the priest and holy vessel has spent gestating their baby. When a priest gives birth to multiples their parish is considered to be even more blessed with each additional child brought into the world. One knows a good and holy priest when they see one surrounded by a gaggle of children, possibly with a toddler on their hip or a babe feeding at their chest, and already unmistakably pregnant again already.
Or priests who protect the people from demons, but exorcisms don't involve dispelling away the demons presence entirely. They use themselves as bait for the demons instead, to distract them from innocent or wayward villagers.
One way they could do this is by utilizing their holy symbol, carved and hallowed for this very purpose, which allows them to draw the demons essence into themselves. But because of their training and holy power, this manifests as a pregnancy. The priest will be a holy vessel to purify and redeem the unholy force within, to eventually be born cleansed and new. The length of the pregnancy depends on how powerful the demon was, low power baser demons take a few months, but extremely powerful demons could possibly take years and years. The families who have experienced exorcisms this way often adopt the child born and raise it as a sign of their own devotion to their religion and gratefulness to their priest.
Or if you want to get down and dirty about it, the priests distract any demons found torturing their parishioners by spreading their own legs and compelling the demons to let out their frustrations and rage on them instead. Taking on the burden of being the demons plaything, being used to it's satisfaction during its time on the mortal plane, and often left waddling through their pews with the demons spawn. The people of the village recognize and deeply appreciate their priests sacrifice, and the community come together to support them in whichever way they may need. Even if what they need is obviously influenced by the unholy essence within (which is to say what they need is often to get fucked 25/8)
Paladins who worship and fight for deities of fertility and growth, birth and prosperity, life and bounty. When they have done great deeds on behalf of those they worship, they are often given the blessing of a belly steadily growing round with their demi-god offspring. Sometimes these paladins take it as a sign to retire and raise their new family somewhere safe, their active duty over though they continue their loyal and steadfast worship of their diety. Some continue to adventure, a bit more carefully then before with the little ones tagging along as they travel, the children always letting off a faint holy essence from the strong protective magic both parents weave about them. A paladin of these deities who have large families, are surrounded at all times by children of all ages, are respected as legendary paladins indeed.
A paladin of these deities who has been serving for years and has never been blessed in this way by their deity are often considered suspicious, and rumors swirl that they have forsaken their oath a long long time ago, if they even took it seriously to begin with.
Pregnancy out of wedlock, not a source of shame and impurity, but instead considered a blessing of a union. Some stricter sects won't even allow a betrothal unless a couple has already conceived and at least one of them is clearly growing round with child. It is so normalized and expected that when romantics think of a traditional wedding, they picture themselves waddling down the aisle, full of their beloved's child. Their lover watching them with unconcealed pride and affection, their vows reiterating their commitment to cherishing and growing their new family. The strictest sects sometimes won't even allow the wedding to commence until they're clearly in labor, only allowed to struggle and groan down the aisle once they're in active labor. Spreading their legs and screaming their child (or children) into the world on the altar, held and encouraged by their soon to be spouse. The cries of the couples firstborn ringing through the church halls holds greater weight than any spoken vow.
A temple of monks hidden deep in the mountains, their acolytes training culminates in embarking on a pilgrimage. These new monks are tasked to give their bodies to whoever may desire it, to bring people joy and pleasure no matter how briefly it lasts, to be subservient and pliant to those they serve on their journey. Some pilgrimages take longer than others, but they almost always return waddling, heavy with child and out of breath from the trek through the steep mountain path, but with beaming and satisfied smiles, confident in their beliefs and teachings in way they hadn't been when they left. Its not even uncommon for a monk returning from pilgrimage to come back holding a curious young child's hand, a toddler secured with soft cloth to their back or front, their belly already gravid and low, obviously on the verge of giving birth where they stand. These monks are considered to have found extra enlightenment on their journey and are heralded back as among the wisest of their number.
Crusaders who travel, not to conquer a land, but to connect cultures and create bonds between lands. Instead of meeting head on in a gritty battlefield, meetings are held in much more comfortable places filled with soft pillows and silks. Instead of the sharp sound of swords clanging against each other, or the metallic sound of armor and shields moving; cries of pleasure and the wet slapping of hips permeate the air. A crusader who comes home with a distinct gravid waddle are celebrated, but the most revered and successful crusaders are the ones that never return, but instead send letters home about their new home and gush about how they're almost due with multiples, but are already excited for their new spouse to knock them up all over again so they can continue to grow their new family.
The head of a religious order, considered to be the closest to their deity over anyone else, always being tasked to carry and bear their deity's offspring. When a new leader is chosen or elected, the final ritual of ushering in their new era is always a consummation of the renewed commitment to being they worship. The leader cannot make any serious changing or sweeping reforms until it has been confirmed by the council that their belly is beginning to round out with child, until then all their decisions need to be council approved. The proof of their divine leadership takes time to grow, divine beings are practically immortal, so it makes sense their offspring take a long time to grow. Symptoms such as morning sickness, cravings, and mood swings are closely analyzed to predict the future of their reign. Their libido however is analyzed as a litmus test to how close their relationship is to their deity. Only their deity may enter them in the same way they did so consummate their new relationship, but it is rare for their deity to make an appearance, so the leader must make do with their worshippers tongues and fingers. Those with especially high libido have been known to use statues and other instruments used in divine worship to fuck themselves senseless, panting from the exhertion of worship, eyes rolled back to the heavens, singing their garbled praises to the deity that blessed their body with it's heavy holy offspring.
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