Sarcastic quotes about god

The Dennis

2016.12.29 19:15 hero0fwar The Dennis

THE GOLDEN GOD
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2014.11.17 20:51 SecularVirginian Street Epistemology

Street Epistemology is a way to help people critically reflect on the quality of their reasoning through civil conversation.
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2014.08.23 13:16 ObeyStatusQuo ೋღ Izlam ღೋ

Muslim Meme Central ~ keep it halal!
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2024.05.22 02:08 kimvette This is not about work

I want to stress that this is not about work. It's about a stupid gaming club.
First, I'm detoxing from Facebook; here I can tailor my news feed more so I am not innundated with Maganazi stuff.
Second, the thing is:
You can't fire someone who quit and you invited back but they were stalling and waiting for you to hold up your end of the bargain, and to cut out the snide, condescending shit. You're not convincing anyone to come back with that when you haven't addressed the underlying issue.
Third, once I was reminded I quit, and cannot be fired, and that whether or not Trump and the Maganazi wins in November, all the stress, hurt, and sadness was gone. When I was a Christian I practiced "No one steals my joy." Although I am now an athiest, because I see no evidence on the part of evangelicals that they even believe in the god they profess (the evidence Jeebus promised believers would show is love for their neighbor), I will continue to keep an open mind, and I will let no one steal my joy.
I'm sticking to my committment to stay off of Facebook as a general rule until July, or sometime in July, just to get a good long break from Maganazi bullshit, but know this if you're stalking me, and I know you are:
I admit, you get me down for a few months, but I remembered I quit, you invited me back and I hadn't yet accepted because you did none of your agreed parts, and added snideness and condescension to it, and I did flinch and let it get me down. No more. Fuck off, because I have my joy back and I rest knowing that although I said things in a way I regretted, I do not regret what I said, but only how I said it.
The thing in January was a litmus test. if we were on better terms I'd explain to you yet again, but you're unwilling to listen, and my favorite quote aside, there is no point in talking to a wall.
You were another brick in the wall, but I am tearing the wall back down. I'm not going back behind an emotional wall.
submitted by kimvette to u/kimvette [link] [comments]


2024.05.22 01:29 Sanguiniusius 'I'll be the golden seamster, Boc! Now I'll be able to sew ANYTHING, even the threads of the demigods'

Its Bocing time yo. I've thought for a long time that Boc is in some way related to the marika radagon story- he shares a love of sewing like radagon, he talks expressly about his mother, and lets be honest the main (bad) mother figure in the game is Marika/Radagon. Finally Melina even spares Boc of all people a little dialogue. I think Boc's story is an allusion to the core metaphysics of the gods. Its not that he is literally Marika's son, its that his/his mother's experience may parallel hers.
In light of Marika(?) pulling some golden thread out of somewhere, lets pull some Boc quotes out and think about how they may be describing the true heart of the story
1
I was pushed out of the cave. Told not to come back, not ever. Then I ended up as a tree. Lucky you came along, really.
Well urm ive recently seen a lot of corpses that ended up as a tree, and in a sense Marika ended up as a tree only to be 'saved' by us.
2
'My mum was a seamstress...and that sewing kit was all I had to remember her by. I always wanted to be just like sweet old Mum. Then, I suppose I-I can't just curl up and die, can I?"'
Huh i know a mothefather who appears to be playing with thread...
3
I'll be the golden seamster, Boc! Now I'll be able to sew anything, even the threads of the demigods!"
When you say you can sew anything boc, does that include conjoining all of reality? Because i think your mother figure might have been in the business of literally sewing reality together.
4
"Oh! Oh! It can't be... For my rebirth? But these are precious, are you certain that it's for me? Oh... M'lord how did you know? It was my only wish, that I might honour you with a decent appearance."
Did your mother change appearance at all Boc? Did she change from something ugly to a beautiful queen? Was she reborn like the description on the https://eldenring.wiki.fextralife.com/Shield+of+the+Guilty
I expect Boc's dialogue to start making a lot more sense when we see what happened to Marika in the land of shadows.
submitted by Sanguiniusius to EldenRingLoreTalk [link] [comments]


2024.05.22 00:01 ikieneng My fanfiction - episode 4!

My fanfiction - episode 4!
The next part is here! This episode is so long that I had to split it, and today, you're finally getting part 3 of 3.
You can find the previous episodes in the side bar! (Community info page in the app)
DISCLAIMERS (the same ones as before)
The point of this fanfiction is not to be a straight-up continuation of events with the same themes, intensity, and tone. If you go into it with those expectations, you are probably not going to like it. Rather, it’s supposed to be how I wish things went if these events were real life. The resolution you want for a real-life situation isn’t often the right choice for a show, but it can be incredibly beautiful. Think of what you’re about to read to be a separate show then.
Episode 1 of this fanfiction begins after the episode “2:00” (season 2 episode 4), so it replaces the episode “Cake” and the ones that follow it. This fanfiction expects you to have seen the entirety of seasons 1 and 2, so you should watch those first.
I myself am bursting into the story here. The narrator and me are the same. While my character is like 95% real me, don’t take events about my life described here as facts. Some aspects of my life have been changed for the story. In my head, I started writing like an “alternate me” character in 2016, fulfilling a lot of the things that I wish I had in life, adding that to my story. I’m not really from Ukraine. I speak fluent Ukrainian as a foreign language, I started learning it in 2014, and I’ve talked to tons of people from there, but I’m not from Ukraine. I also don’t have as much money as I do in the story. I wish lmao.
If you want to post your own fanfiction, feel free to do so! To get your own post flair for your fanfic, and to appear in the side bar, please message me.

Part 3 (days 3 and 4)

We’d wake up on day three, and still, nothing would be any different - we’re still locked up. We’d both feel really worried not knowing if we’ll have to forfeit our whole plan because we might run out of food and water and take the risky route - calling the police and getting ourselves into a situation where we’d have to be freed by force, which would be so dangerous because the Turners have proven that there’s nothing they’re not prepared to do to us to “get Jericho back”. Leanne would ask me “What do we do if we call the police, and Mrs. Turner comes up here and tries to hurt us?” At first, I’d insist that we start thinking about that when we do run out of food the next day, but she’d insist we should come up with a plan. I’d point at the corner on the edge of the attic facing Spruce Street, the corner that’s to one’s right when coming up into the attic,
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and say “Then you’d curl up and hide over there, and I’d take the radio, you’d take the metronome, and I’d sit down in front of you, shielding you, and if she gets in here before the cops do, we’ll defend ourselves. And we’d record everything on my phone. And we should probably hide behind the sofa. Maybe then, she might not notice we’re still up here at first. She’d probably be in a state of panic.” She’d look at me with sad, but touched eyes and just hug me and say thank you. I’d reply “Of course”. After some silence, I’d tell her “If anything happens to me… Please bring me back”.

She’d be touched by that, but say that if she reanimates me, the Church of Lesser Saints will come after ME as well because they’ll believe that I’ll be obligated to join. With a worried smile, I’d say “I know... But they’re probably already gonna do that, right? Because I won’t let them get to you!” We’d both nod with the same half-happy, half-worried expression. “And if things go terribly wrong and you have to bring me back, we can try again!”

I’d ask if I’m getting it right that the “great sins” they think she’s committing are not spending time with the Church and helping another family from the one that was assigned to her. She’d say yes and add that there’s a lot more they hate her for, like her “disobedient and rebellious streak”, disobeying their instructions, putting curses on people, and now, leaving the Marinos.
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After a few seconds of silence (out of shock that this is how the Church of Lesser Saints frames it), I’d be like “If you disobey so many of their instructions, then...”, look her directly in the eyes, and go “Good! Keep on disobeying them! I’m actually kind of stunned that this is how they frame your actions, because that is so manipulative. Wanting to have a life where you don’t have to worry about your every step being watched and controlled, where you can actually freely explore what you believe – not what they tell you to believe, but what YOU believe, where you can do totally normal human things like listen to music, and where you can go wherever you want and make some basic decisions for yourself and work wherever you want, that doesn’t make you...” (doing the “quote-on-quote” with my hands while I say it) “quote-on-quote ‘disobedient’ or ‘rebellious’, it makes you a normal human being. If they forbid every little thing that people do that makes you happy, if you then look for happiness elsewhere, that’s on them. You can’t take every bit of joy away from people and then expect them to just deal with it. You wanting to run away, that’s the logical result of their bullshit. And you didn’t ‘leave’ the Marinos, you were taken. Don’t let them think you’re at fault in any way!” She might have never heard any verbal confirmation before that her feelings about leaving are valid, and this would be so reassuring to her. She’d tell me that whenever she did things like not be there for meals at the Church, skip assemblies, or curse people without permission, she would be brought before May and the rest of the community, get questioned about her behavior, and she’d have to self-flagellate to receive forgiveness.
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I’d go really still and quiet when she mentions the self-flagellation, which she’d then explain is a frequent punishment. That would freaking break my heart... I’d ask her when was the last time she hurt herself, and it was a little less than two weeks ago, before she was forced to leave the Turners. Very carefully and quietly, I’d ask her if it would be okay if she can show me her scars and add “You do NOT have to if you’re not comfortable, PLEASE don’t do it if you’re not”, and after a second, she’d nod and show me her back. My heart would break for her even more seeing her scars, I’d just express how horrible it is that they made her do that… I’d show her some of my cut wounds from when I self-harmed, which I hadn’t done in like three and a half years at that point. I’d want her to know that way that I get the urge, that I really do, but I’d tell her that hurting oneself achieves nothing. All it does is make you feel horrible mentally and physically, and every time you do it, there’s a risk of infection and even death. I’d just tell her I understand while taking her in my arms. I’d ask her to please look me in the eyes and tell me she won’t hurt herself again, and that when she feels like doing it again, to please talk to me first. She’d quietly say “I promise” while looking me in the eyes, and after some longer embraces, we’d both smile a bit, that would make me really happy to hear! I’d ask that when we’re out of here, if we can call a doctor sometime soon and get them to look at her scars to make sure none of them are infected, if she’s comfortable enough, and she’d nod and smile at me a little bit some more.

We’d eat after that. We’d run out of tomato soup that meal, and I’d tell her that when we’re getting out of there, I’d get her all the tomato soup in the world! “We’re gonna fill a whole hotel fridge with tomato soup!” “And with Ben & Jerry’s?”, she’d ask, and I’d say yes and say that we’re probably gonna need more than one fridge. I’d say we’re gonna pick the nicest and most expensive hotel to stay at, an idea that she’d love! “You still think Allentown is a good idea?”, I’d ask her, and she’d think my reasoning from the day before makes sense and say yes. We’d look for the nicest hotel in Allentown online and see that there are “only” three-star hotels in Allentown. Leanne would ask if getting such an expensive place to stay is really okay, and I’d say “Money is not an issue, don’t worry about it” while reaching across her back and like caressing her right shoulder, looking her in the eyes, and smiling. “And besides, let’s spoil you, you fucking deserve it after all this!” We wouldn’t book anything yet because we wouldn’t know when we can get out of there yet, but looking at all those insanely nice hotels would lift our spirits a bit.

After eating the first half of that day’s rations (only two half day’s rations would be left after that…), we’d think that it would probably be a good idea if we started writing the document for the police right now. Writing it can take hours upon hours, and there’s no point in delaying the rescue to write the document after I leave if we can do it right now, so we’d begin right that moment. It would begin something like “My name is Daria Horenko, born July 30, 1999 in Odesa, Ukraine, residing in 501 Pembroke Ave, Philadelphia 19050, Pennsylvania...” (I don’t live there. I have no idea who does. Please leave them alone lmao) “...I sent this statement to my Facebook friend Liam [...] (residing in Tipperary, Ireland, using Facebook as Liam [...]) as a PDF file and told him to call the Philadelphia police and read this statement to them if I don’t come back online and confirm that I’m okay by 10 PM Philadelphia time / 3 PM London, UK time on December 22, 2022. If he is reading this to you, it probably means that there was no sign of life from me by that time, and that I’m not safe, probably kidnapped and locked up by Dorothy Turner, Sean Turner, Julian (I’m not sure about his surname, but I’m referring to Dorothy Turner’s brother - redhead, not very tall, moderately overweight) in the attic of their residence at 9780 Spruce Street, Philadelphia 19139, Pennsylvania”, and then document everything I’ve seen in chronological order and everything that Leanne has told me, with a link to our video and photographic evidence, references to DNA evidence that can probably be found in the hole in the basement if they haven’t covered it up by now, and a statement at the end saying that I’ve written it together with Leanne to make sure that everything is correct. That would take a really long time, hours for sure. But when it’s done, I’d run spell- and grammar checks on it and send it to my printer at home, to be queued for printing when I get home and turn it on. We’d also know that today (December 21) or tomorrow will be the day when we leave one way or another, so I’d schedule a text message to 911 in 30 hours from that moment. The message would say “This is a scheduled message. If you’ve received it, then Leanne Grayson (born October 13, 2001)...” (We only ever learn Leanne’s birth year from the gravestone. October 13 is Nell Tiger Free’s birthday, so October 13, 2001 being Leanne’s birthday is kind of my headcanon)
https://preview.redd.it/0hr9niq1pu1d1.png?width=975&format=png&auto=webp&s=4dbead2015781ed8beee236188b8273aac1b3fb0
“...and me (Daria Horenko, born July 30, 1999) are probably not safe, abducted and locked up against our will by Dorothy Turner, her brother Julian, and Sean Turner in the attic of their house at 9780 Spruce Street, Philadelphia 19139, Pennsylvania or somewhere else on the property. We need help immediately. The Turners should be considered dangerous and very clearly willing to use violence and intimidation. We need help NOW. Details in our prepared statement: [the link]”. Because we’re holding out hope that we won’t have to call the police from inside the attic, the document would include information on what our plan is to get Leanne (and me) out of there as safely as possible and call the police from the taxi, but that if we run out of rations, we won’t have a choice but to call the police while we’re unarmed and while the Turners still have the upper hand.

We would debate whether we should include information about the Church of Lesser Saints right away or tell the police about them later because we know how that sounds, considering that this would hurt the credibility of our testimony,
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but we’d modify the document and include the most important information about them as well, with more believable explanations - how they forced Leanne and other members to self-harm (meaning that current members or those who recently left), where they’re currently operating from in Lancaster,
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that they faked their deaths, that they forced Leanne to leave the Turners, and the necessary lie that they took the real baby, and that Leanne hasn’t seen it since that day and doesn’t know where they’ve taken it. We’d also include names and stuff, and most importantly, reference the baptism tape and say that it shows May and George watching us from the sidewalk outside the church less than three weeks ago, and that piece of evidence would change everything in regards to investigating the Church of Lesser Saints and make the police believe us. We’d add that it’s probably among the other DVDs in the Turners’ living room, and that I’ll try to get it when leaving the building if our original plan is still going to be an option, rip the DVD at home, and add a link to the video file to the document. We’d modify the scheduled text message as well, and we’d charge both phones, mine first because the scheduled message is so important, but it’s an iPhone, so we could charge it to 100% rather quickly and then charge hers. And we’d add that we’d want the police to get Leanne’s things from the Marino estate. All her stuff being there would be further evidence that she was taken suddenly and against her will. We’d also add what number Leanne can be reached at for now with the Samsung Galaxy phone. And then, I’d send the document to Liam on all platforms where I know how to reach him, followed by a message to alert the authorities if I’m not back online confirming that we’re both okay in what’s now probably more like 29 hours, the phone number of the Philadelphia police, and caps at the beginning saying that it’s an actual emergency.

Out of nowhere, I’d ask her if she’s seen “Titanic” lmao, and with her near total isolation growing up, she wouldn’t have seen it. “I’ve only seen movies on TV”. I’d be like “I can show you lots of movies if you want! I got several subscriptions to streaming services, and also a bunch of stuff offline on an external drive at home.”
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Back on talking about “Titanic”, I’d tell her it’s wonderful and so freaking romantic, albeit over-the-top at times for sure and a bit overrated. It has that glossy feeling and some superficial characters to it that all James Cameron movies have, but it’s still really wonderful. After explaining the plot to her (since she’s grown up so isolated), I’d tell her about one scene that I’m thinking about a lot from time to time - near the end of the movie, when old Rose is done telling the researchers her story, she says that she doesn’t even have a picture of Jack, and that has hit me so hard from the first time I’ve seen the movie.
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She has no physical memories of him, she can never see his face again, and she can never show people what he looked like. That just rips my heart. I’d ask Leanne if we can take some pictures together. We’d look pretty horrible because we haven’t been able to shower in days, but we wouldn’t care and take them anyway and really, genuinely smile so hard. I’d send them to her email address (leanne_grayson@icloud.com, that email address is on her resume in the show),
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manually sync my gallery with iCloud, and I’d send them to Liam. I’d ask what phone she got back at the Marinos’ and if she’s got any pictures of herself in her iCloud gallery, but she’d tell me she’s rarely ever taken pictures of herself, only for the resume she applied at the Turners’ for, and I’d be like “Whaaaaat? But you’re so beautiful!”, and she’d smile hard, a bit embarrassed. I’d look her straight in the eyes and say it again and say that I mean it for real, she is so incredibly beautiful! It’s probably so rare that anyone’s ever said that to her in her entire life (her mother definitely didn’t, and given that the Church of Lesser Saints believes that anything that feels good is dangerous,
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it’s rather unlikely that they did), Tobe saying it in “Balloon” might even have been the only time ever…
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I’d then add “Inside AND out!”, and she’d smile some more in a bit of embarrassment and then look me in the eyes and say “You, too, Daria!”, and as you’d expect, I’d smile so hard and even with my eyes!

It would be rather late by then, so we’d eat and listen to some more music together from the Spotify playlist I created for her and talk so much about what we’re hearing.

After dinner, she’d bring the topic up on her own (this is kind of making fun of these fan theories) - she’d tell me that some in the Church of Lesser Saints think she’s the Devil or Lilith because of her rebelliousness, and how she’s inspired doubt in some people in the Church. I’d make such a weirded-out face. After realizing she’s serious, I’d say “If you are the Devil, then hail Satan! Like, seriously, if YOU are what God is threatening will happen if we don’t follow him, then that’s literally the weakest threat I’ve ever heard of. Then God is the villain here. We need more people like you in the world!” Shy as she still is, she’d still be almost embarrassed to hear this (she’s so not used to compliments), and I’d make it clear I’m serious, that I really think she’s fricking wonderful and the sweetest, and that she clearly has a huge heart full of so much love, and that she deserves so much better than what she’s ever experienced! Almost in denial, she’d see in my eyes that I really mean it and just smile and hug me, and then, we’d both smile even more! I’d rub her back a lot in that moment and promise her again that everything will be okay. “I’ll make sure of that!”

After some more music together, knowing that tomorrow will be the day we leave, no matter which plan we’ll go with, we’d make sure we haven’t forgotten anything. Looking around, I’d realize I have to give her my earphones with a cord because the internal mic of my Samsung Galaxy S5 Mini is essentially useless. I’d tell her that when I call her the next day to tell her it’s safe to come downstairs now, she should answer the call, plug in the earphones, and then, it will take a few seconds until I can hear her, but then, it should be fine. We’d set a code phrase that I’ll mention to let her know if the Turners got me and it’s NOT safe to come down. She’d suggest “tomato soup”, and I’d smile and say yes, that’s gonna be our code phrase. “And if it IS safe to come down?”, she’d ask, and I’d suggest “ice cream”.

I’d realize that we should probably find her fresh clothes in the attic and a coat right now, so as I said, it’s not too obvious that she’s been locked up for a long time the second she walks out of the door, because if she’s in dirty clothes or nightwear, with it being obvious that she hasn’t showered in days, and I get her out of there and into a taxi to drive off while I got a gun, it would look as if I was kidnapping her, so we’d find her a nice dress and coat up there, and I’d turn around and close my eyes while she puts it on, and when she’s done, I’d tell her again that she looks amazing! 😊
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And she’d smile and thank me this time, sort of the way she says it to the makeup artist at the street fair in S3E5 “Tiger” in that typical way of hers that’s so adorable for real,
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and she’d look in my direction and say “You look really beautiful, too!”, really shy, before peeking me in the eyes for a moment, and we’d just look at each other for a moment. “Can I have your pictures?”, she’d ask me, and I’d say yeah, open my iPhone, and select ALL pictures of myself in my gallery and send them to her email address, and send her those that are too large via a Google Drive link (iCloud isn’t great for sharing files lol), and then, I’d take her Samsung Galaxy S5 Mini, download them all (which would take a while because that phone is ancient), and set one of the pictures we’ve taken together as her wallpaper, and then set it as my wallpaper on my iPhone as well! 😊

We’d consider if there’s anything else we’ve missed. She’d mention that parts of the floor screech, especially one tile, so when I sneak out, I gotta be careful on the stairs, especially with that one tile.
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After a few seconds, she’d ask me if we wanna book a hotel now, and I’d smile and say sure! “Did you like any hotels in particular, out of the ones we looked at?” She’d say “The one with the big jacuzzi looks great” with big eyes and enthusiasm in her voice, like she does during some of her conversations with Tobe in S3E5 “Tiger”. “You’ve ever been in a jacuzzi?”, I’d ask her, and she’d go “Nooo, but I wanna try!” in the same tone,
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and so, after lying down now, we’d look up which hotel she was talking about and book a two-room suite in that hotel in Allentown for three weeks. I’d add “So we can easily look out for each other, and so you’ll also have some privacy.”, and she’d smile and nod, that consideration would probably mean a lot to her.

We’d then get ready for bed. For the next day, I’d get some better clothes as well and put them on while she’s turned around with her eyes closed. I’d take the last ration of food out of my backpack, put the clothes I just took off at the bottom of it, above Leanne’s Bible (the porcelain baby and card are already in one of the other pockets), and put my phone and the chargers in another pocket. I’d look around and ask her if there’s anything else I should take with me to safeguard, and at first, she’d also look around because she wouldn’t know how to answer right away, but she’d then point at Mrs. Barrington with her face,
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and I’d be like “Well, I think she’s a little too big for my backpack, but I can talk to the police when we’re out of here, maybe we can try to get her!”, and Leanne would nod with a big smile again.

We’d lie down on the mattress and share the covers again. Just like the night before, I’d lie down on the side of the mattress that’s closer to the stairs, in case Dorothy changes her mind and tries to assault Leanne again… On the mattress, she’d suddenly hug me really tight, break into tears, and thank me over and over again, and I’d just hold her tight, say “Of course”, and assure her that everything’s gonna be okay, that we’ll get out of there tomorrow. I’d wipe some of her tears off her face 🥺 On the mattress, we’d just look each other in the eyes and both just smile more and more, and after a minute or two, she’d kiss me on the lips for a tiiiiny moment and then, we’d just smile at each other even harder! She’d say “I’m not supposed to do that” while still smiling just as hard and looking me directly in the eyes! “Says who?”, I’d reply. She goes “My aunts and uncles”, and I’d say “I don’t think they’re a reliable source!”, and we’d kiss each other some more and longer, and both feel each other’s smile on our lips, and peek at each other a few times in between 😊🥰❤️ We’d both put our arms around each other before telling each other good night and before I promise her one more time it’s all going to be okay!
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At some point during the night, she’d wake me up, and when she does, I’d realize I had a nightmare, like, not from my night terrors, and she’d tell me I had a nightmare, that I was sniffling in my sleep, and that I told her two days earlier to wake me up if this happens. Still feeling terrible (the feeling of immediate dread always takes a while to subside for me), I’d thank her. I’d ask what I was saying, and she’d say that I wasn’t speaking English. I’d consider if I should tell her for a moment, but then, I’d take a deep breath, look up for a second, and with a heavy voice, slowly say “What if we try plan A tomorrow, and I fail? I’m scared… I don’t wanna mess this up… I don’t wanna fail you…” And she’d slowly look at me and just say two words: “You haven’t!” I’d look at her and almost laugh a bit out of joy. I’d smile and just cuddle up to her a bit, and she’d do it back. I’d say I’ll try to listen to music for a while to calm down because doing something else makes it much easier for me to zone out of the feeling of dread again. “Why only you?”, she’d ask. “I don’t wanna keep you awake”, I’d say, “You need the sleep”, and she’d say “It’s okay” and just smile a bit, and so, we’d listen to some music together for about half an hour.

I’d tell her that my sleep is so horrible (she’d say she can tell) because I don’t have my meds, and I’m really fricking looking forward to taking them again. Without them, the quality of my sleep is terrible, and it takes so long for me to fall asleep at all if I don’t take them. She’d ask if I’ve taken them for a long time, and I’d say that I haven’t taken these particular meds for long because whatever I take, my body builds up some resistance to them pretty quickly, so after a while, I always have to get new ones, but I’ve taken sleeping meds for years now. “It sounds like they’re really helping you, right?”, she’d ask, and I’d nod and say “Yeah, they really do. I’m also taking antidepressants, and they were an absolute gamechanger for me. It’s okay if I don’t take them for a few days because they don’t work in the moment, but they like rewire your brain over time, and they’re the best thing that’s ever happened to my mental health. Before I started taking them, it was so hard for me to avoid bad thoughts or resist them, like, it was hell, but ever since then, it got sooo much easier, and not letting things get to me or not letting bad things really take over me is just so much easier now.” After a while, I’d say “I was at a psychiatric clinic voluntarily for six months, but I also had nowhere else to go, and the doctors and employees really abused their power. They only intervened when there was physical violence, they didn’t intervene in any other conflicts, so because of them, the patients constantly bullied each other. My doctor switched to another department while I was there, so I got a new one, and the new one wasn’t perfect, but at least, she cared. I got really lucky to get a place at a living group for mentally ill people, which was when I could finally leave. But honestly, all my experiences with mental health professionals since then have been better. I went to a different clinic for four or five days voluntarily in 2019, and even they were far better. “That sounds scary…”, she’d say. I’d reply “It was. But things got much better after that. I had lots of setbacks, like, you know, but if you get help, it’s always better.”

After the current song’s over, we’d lie down to try and sleep again. We’d smile at each other again in bed, and I’d give her a short-ish kiss before saying good night, and we’d both smile even harder after that 😁 And we would fall asleep for good after a while (it would still take me longer than her).

In the morning, Leanne would wake me up again. She’d show me that the door is unlocked and open by a little bit now (they’re “letting” her out for a few hours…),
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and we’d both just embrace and chuckle in huge joy, as we can go with plan A now, the less risky one! We’d remember to quiet down after a few seconds and whisper from then on out. I’d go to the toilet roll, take eight pieces, rip them into two bands of four pieces each, and roll each of them up into a little bunch. I’d give them to her and tell her to put them into the wall pieces of the door when she gets out (so it looks like the door is closed while it can’t actually lock) and give me an audible signal when the third floor is clear, so I’ll get out with my backpack, take out the toilet paper, and hide in her room.
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“Is there anything you want me to get from there?”, I’d ask. “No. Everything is here or at the Marinos’.” I’d go “Okay” and move on - since I’m almost definitely unable to come down to the second floor right away (I’m using American English in all of these episodes. “First floor” in American English = “ground floor” in British English; “Second floor” in American English = “first floor” in British English; “Third floor” in American English = “second floor” in British English, etc.), she’d give me a signal when coming back upstairs. We’d agree that when she comes back upstairs, if it’s safe to go to the second floor, she’d shout something, maybe in conversation, maybe some sort of cry, doesn’t matter, and if not, she’d kick something. She’d be locked upstairs again after that, so I’ll have to tell when to get further downstairs myself, which I’d do as soon as I’ve heard absolutely no sounds from inside the house for at least a few minutes. On the first floor, I’d get the DVD from March 11, 2001, and if the baptism tape isn’t clearly labeled among the tapes, I’d unplug the DVD player from the TV, turn on the player, open the DVD slot, and if the tape isn’t in there, I’d take all unlabeled tapes. I’d then listen in on the basement door for a few seconds, and if I hear no sounds from down there, I’d quietly open the basement door and go downstairs, and if no one’s there, I’d get out through the side entrance down there, out through the back gate, walk back to Spruce Street, drive my bike home, take a shower, watch the tape from March 11, 2011 like she told me I could, hide it somewhere at home, print out the document for the police, take it with me in an envelope, print out a second version of it to give to the taxi driver, so I can say “If I’m not back in an hour, please call the police for me and read this to them”. I’d then call a taxi (a taxi with a large trunk whose driver is allowed to drive to Allentown and back), load my gun, and leave for the Turners’ and get Leanne.

We’d see that Liam has replied by now. Of course, he’d be super worried, but he’s got our backs for the plan, and that would be really reassuring. We’d look each other in the eyes, and then, I’d hug her sooo tight for several seconds, and we’d have one loooong kiss (hoping it’s not the last time we see each other…) before she goes downstairs while looking back at me on the way before putting the toilet paper in the door. I’d then put on my backpack. Once Leanne loudly shouts “Mister Turner?”, that would be my signal, and I’d hide in her room for about 45 minutes before she’s “let” back upstairs and shouts “You can lock me in now, Mrs. Turner”,
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which is when I’d sneak into the storage/guest room and wait. It would take like five hours until I hear nothing for a while, which is when I’d sneak onto the first floor, look around to make extra sure no one’s there, and go to the living room. I’d get the tape from March 11, 2011, and the baptism tape would be among the labeled DVDs, and I’d put it into the box of the March 11, 2011 tape (I’d put the original DVD loose in there and use the spot inside the box for the baptism tape because it’s probably more important. I then wouldn’t hear anything from the basement, so I’d slowly and quietly go down there. No one would be there, so I’d leave as planned and go home and take a shower. I’d watch the March 11, 2011 DVD. I’d be surprised to see the interaction between Leanne and Dorothy for sure, but sort of knowing her, I wouldn’t think anything bad of it. I’d actually get it because of my past celebrity crushes (which I know isn’t what she was feeling for Dorothy) and the desire to meet them, especially with Blanche. I’d get why Leanne wouldn’t want the police to see it, it would look bad for her. I’d wrap up the DVD in a thick piece of paper and tape it to the back of my closet, between the closet and the wall. I’d burn the piece of paper in the DVD case in my bathtub with a bucket of water next to me just in case. I’d test if the DVD of the baptism tape still works (it does), rip it, upload the video file to Google Drive, add it to the document for the police, cancel my printing queue, print the document (two versions of it. The one for the taxi driver would just have a short introduction at the beginning, like, that I’m the person who ordered the taxi), order the taxi, pack my things for the next couple of weeks and anything that Leanne might need, so I’d include any clothes that I think could fit her, and go to the taxi. I’d tell the driver to get me one block away from 9780 Spruce Street (which isn’t actually a real address, by the way) and wait there for me. Before leaving for the Turner house, I’d give him the envelope with his version of the letter for the police and tell him what I said I would tell him. I’d then get my backpack with the gun in it from my luggage in the trunk, and walk to the Turners’ house.

I have already "written" so much more in my head, but I've now reached the end of what I've actually written down, so it will take longer until the next episode is out now! Hope you've enjooooyed this one!
submitted by ikieneng to teamleanne [link] [comments]


2024.05.22 00:01 Gossip-Luv2 Retrieved the content of Tweets on SLB's eccentricities - The Mythmaker’s Legacy - Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, I am the Greatest of Them All!

Thanks to Patron Member u/Entharo_entho - Here is the wiped out Tweet retrieved
Context - Wiped out from Internet
In March, I got a chance to work with filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali right after he made Gangubai Kathiawadi, and Alia Bhatt, playing the titular character in the film, retweeted me.
The headline (in my head) was going to be, ‘The Boy From Kamathipura Goes To Bhansali Mandi.
Then reality struck in April.
One of my closest friends Sweta called me from the Shivapuri National Park near Kathmandu and put me on speaker. Two other friends Mona and Ayush were listening to the WhatsApp call.
How’s it going with Bhansu?’ Sweta asked.
We are not working together anymore,’ I said.
Whaaaaaaaat?’ the three people shrieked, creating a wavy disturbance in audio frequency.
Whyyyyy?’ they cried, collectively anguished.
He said he is not feeling the vibes.’
What?’
Vibes,’ I said aloud, causing a seismic tremor in the audio frequency.
What vibes?’ Sweta jibed, ‘Maybe he can’t feel the vibrator.
Laughter upped the vibes.
First, a little context on how I got that far. Check this, this, this & this.
So my tweets were going viral in February-March.
In the second week of March, a woman DM’d me saying she loves the tweets. I said thank you. She said she works at Bhansali Productions.
Whoopsie Daisy!
I asked if I could be a part of the production. She checked with SLB and team. He said he wants to meet now.
NOW!
How?
I was in Calcutta.
I called an actor friend in Bombay and told him about it.
They will book your tickets and put you up in 5-star,” he said, “Like Hollywood.
This is Bhansaliwood,” I said, “Yahan dhanda hamesha manda hai.
I flew (on my own expense) and met him.
I was ‘prepared’ by his team for the meeting with His High and Mightiness.
I was told:
Arre, then what do I say?
I sashayed in a brown kurta and white linen trousers. Please see Madhuri Dixit-Nene’s brown ghagra for aesthetic reference I used from my very limited wardrobe of the only kurta I had at the time. By the way, the chorus sings ‘Jhanak Jhanak Payal Baaje,’ aesthetically referencing you know what, right?
He was lunching with his minions (strictly calling them minions from his pov) when I arrived in his pristine white dining hall in a building called Magnum Opus. Where else should he reside, no? Both his house, and his office (where I was ‘prepared’ earlier) were tastefully done in creamy white.
It was, as I said to my friend later, like walking into a cumulus cloud, or like sitting on his favourite singer Lata Mangeshkar’s lap. Calm, serene and quite surreal. I was inside his snow globe. Violins from a Bach concerto (in my head) were replaced with say Madan Mohan’s doleful rendition of ‘Mai ri main ka se kahoon peedh apne jiya ki.’ (Side effect of writing this on Mother’s Day.)
I look for books when I enter a house for signs of intelligent life. There were lots of lamps and candelabras but where were the stacks of books they were perched on? The aesthetic was high on film set disposable kitsch. I stared into a cumulative void.
The minions were intensely debating Darjeeling momos. What’s that? I spent my childhood there. Never heard of this GI tag!
SLB relished his meal and said, “I want puranpoli today.
Puranpoli appeared not out of thin air, but a house-help flipping wishes instantly on a griddle on the fifth floor. We were on the first floor. Although the puranpoli is shaped like a flying saucer, it doesn’t fly, perhaps burdened by the weight of excess ghee and crowd-pleasing expectation. It does, however, reach SLB’s plate at the speed of light.
Give him some,’ he asked a minion to serve me while I waited on the sofa.
I’ve had lunch, thank you,’ I said, trying to behave. The plate arrived. I took a mousy bite to exhibit my failing attempt to transform into a champion minion.
When he came to chat, he noticed the unfinished food and gently reminded me how there were days he went hungry. I should have rolled my eyes for my own lean days.
One should not waste food,’ he said.
I don’t,’ I said, ‘I was going to parcel it home in a doggy bag.
Hearing the word doggy, his well-behaved dog came over to inspect me.
He observed me. I petted her perfunctorily. Am a cat person. Stereotypical writer stuff — allergic to undesired petting and attention.
So, what have you done?’ he asked, sitting on a sort of empire-style bergere chair. Full marks for faux-ornate.
A novel, some writing for a series,’ I said nervously, dismissively.
Anything I might have seen?’ he asked.
No, not worthwhile.’
Are you interested in direction also?
No, am not delusional.
A moment passed. I might have displayed an errant repartee.
I mean, I can only write, or am trying to,’ I said. L’esprit de l’escalier.
He gave me a spiel on writing, how screenplay is an art not many understand, etc, et cetera.
I nodded to make his voice disappear.
What are you writing now?
I showed him the cover of my new book, The Last Courtesan, featuring my mother, on my phone.
Oh, this is so fascinating,’ he said.
He spoke rapturously about Calcutta’s great food and colonial architecture when I mentioned growing up in Bowbazar kothas. If you watch any of his interviews now on YouTube you will realise he only speaks in raptures. He’s always explaining things like an impassioned conductor at a dime-store opera. It can exhaust the boorish audience immediately. He spoke about living in the Kamathipura area as a child when I said I had lived there. The mythmaker was interested in exoticising his own legend as an ‘outsider’.
But how will you work here if your mother is in Calcutta?’ he said, ‘I am a maa-ka-bhakt.
Everything is about him or his mother. I have reached that stage too, though only by circumstances unavoidable.
Actually it was my mother who asked me to come here. I told her it would only work out if you understand that I will have to vacillate between the two cities initially. Jaise Sanjay ki Leela hai, waise meri Rekha.
Corny dialogue, but worked. No one calls him by his first name, except perhaps his own mother. He is sir for everyone.
If I am speaking to you for so long means I like you,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I would have asked you to leave long ago.’
Barely five minutes into the conversation, he asked me to return to his office and inform his team that I was going to be a part of his writer’s room.
I went back to his office and read a script. This is the part I cannot mention. His legal team sits in the adjacent room.
I flew to Calcutta and was to return after a week. I had to make arrangements for my mother’s tri-weekly dialysis sessions at a nearby hospital, figure out a tiffin-delivery service for her, find a house help (she sent four nurses scurrying in the past), all of which is a bit of a task in this retrograde city.
Remember the woman who had DM’d me about my tweets? She messaged. She had met SLB after my meeting. He said this about me: ‘What a wonderful find. That boy has so much potential and is talented. Most importantly, he is sensitive.’
I told her I’d get this engraved on my tombstone.
Like how he wants to take Alia Bhatt’s golchakkar in Dholida to his grave.
It’s a shot that I will take to my grave. If there’s any shot that I want to be played when I breathe my last, it would be Alia doing that shot. It is the best thing I have seen an actor do in a very long, long time.
I was only emulating the high priest of hyperbole in my tombstone comment. Perhaps I was regressing into a minion.
I had only managed a few tasks for mother when I was back in Bombay. It worried me that the old, frail woman with shaky limbs and slurred speech was trying to be brave to send me to work. I hadn’t worked since the pandemic; she was in and out of hospitals so frequently that I had surrendered the thought of getting another job ever again. Taking care of her was my full-time job.
The first day in his office was to chill in my new, aesthetically pleasing kurta I had shopped for in Gariahat. There was a security camera in every corner that was apparently accessible on his phone. My skin tingled with this information. Chilled. He was at home. Probably watching. That’s a great way to create a myth.
The next day, there were more minions on the lunch table in his first floor apartment. The magically appearing steamy and fragrant sheera was delicious. A minion deemed it the best sheera in the city. I nodded to make that statement evaporate.
A courier boy interrupted for a document signature. SLB flared at a spelling mistake in the document papers.
Go wash your face and come back,’ he yelled at the young man.
The minions at the table laughed nervously. I so wished I was wearing a mask to cover my surprise emoji face.
The minions on the table were writers and assistant directors.
Dastavez,’ SLB said, ‘would that be correct to use?’
Kaaghzaat,’ the minion replied.
Kaaghzaat is paper, dastavez is document,’ said the second minion.
You always mislead me,’ SLB sternly reprimanded the first minion. ‘Don’t ever do that again.
Only that minion tried to laugh, offering an apology. He shut the minion down.
My mask, my mask emoji face.
A third minion was sulking in a corner before I arrived for the writing session. This minion had reportedly offered a script suggestion, which he disliked and barked down. I liked this minion the most. Relatable.
A faint noise of a person running or perhaps just a rumbling sound from somewhere outside interrupted the room. He looked up at the ceiling and said, ‘No one lives there. Am certain it is a ghost. I hear running sounds all the time. I have heard sounds of furniture being dragged.
I wondered if he actually believed in half the things he uttered, or was he just saying it to create enigma about himself. Mythical thoughts certainly kept him preoccupied.
Reality bored him. SLB had nothing good to say about the ‘current plague’ of South Indian films upsetting the Bollywood cartel. He compared them to a circus. He wasn’t kind to the actors he had worked with in his last film. He cracked lame jokes about everyone and everything. The minions laughed and kept him busy. I chuckled a few times to blend in. The mythmaker revelled in his prophesies about the impending doom of charlatans with no aesthetics: just crass, commercial peddlers pimping art. It was all said to amuse and bemuse while he fussed over the yellow shade of fabric from several swatches.
When he left for his music session, the minions bitched him out, and how! All the horror stories I had heard over the years about his moods, behaviour, language and violent temper were true. How else will he create myth about himself as a maestro? The Glomar response. Let the plebs indulge in hearsay. I will neither confirm nor deny. The minions sang effigy songs in happy tunes, if I may stretch this part a bit like his penchant for high camp.
That night, when I went to my actor friend’s house, where I was temporarily staying, I said to him, ‘I don’t think I will last a week there.
I was rattled by how he spoke to the courier boy and the minions, with no filter. Well, at least it was clear he had no tact, endearing as that might be of a ‘genius’ if one compromises with his erratic behaviour. The CEO of his company does it beautifully and advises to develop a ‘thick hide’ around him. Cows, essentially.
Verve
The words genius, great, master, maverick, were so loosely bandied by his office staff even in his absence that I was tempted to add auteur, if they could spell or pronounce it. They worked in perpetual fear of him turning up at any hour and checking on their tidiness. A minion whined she wasn’t dressed appropriately for his surprise visit. Once, he even cut pay for unscheduled leave, said another minion. A minion narrated a shot he copied from a photographer in Gangubai Kathiawadi. Another minion recounted how he made her cry on shoot by screaming at her for a silly mistake. Minions couldn’t leave the office till his evenings were scheduled. It was a well-paying job so long as they did not have to see ‘chacha’s’ face and only applaud his cinematic sorcery.
His office team would assign me desk-work and warn me not to inform him about it.
What am I supposed to say if he asks?
Make up something,’ I was told.
Why should I?
You will slowly understand,’ I was told.
His team of assistants would sneak around me. I didn’t know who was reporting what back to him. He would interrogate the management team. They would lash out at me for informing the assistants. The management wanted to control me a certain way because ‘sir’ does not need to know everything. It was quite a guessing game. He had created an ecosystem of complete chaos and loved the hubbub. New people were hired for him to use the ‘new energy’ to rekindle the ‘old energy’ that needed to be reminded it could be snuffed out and replaced. He thrived on confusion because it all boiled down to him to sort out the mess. He was the provider so long as the minions ingratiated and served their grand master.
One time he called me upstairs, what his CEO called the god’s chamber aka the Shahenshah’s durbar: his office on the seventh floor. Walls were lined with giant posters of his films. We minions sat on the fifth floor. I was of course by now a week old in the toady mill. On the seventh floor, production team members, set designer, director assistant, young people sat on the floor, armed with notebooks and laptops, alert and sugar-tongued. He sat on a throne and dictated each one about their duty. A masseur massaged his leg. He asked me what I thought of a script. I said it was lovely. He asked me to elaborate. I said I liked a character’s resolve. He denied it was written. I said that’s my interpretation. A minion promptly backed me.
What changes do you suggest?’ he asked.
We should sit on it collectively and decide,’ I said.
He mumbled something. My suggestion was dismissed. I was dismissed. I bowed out. A minion whispered to me, ‘We all walk on eggshells around him.’ I had to be a chicken in a coop I suppose.
Another time he dismissed my suggestion for a scene saying, ‘That’s not how art is made.’ I had referenced a scene from Bandit Queen to illustrate my point. Just like his entire oeuvre is homage to a classic. How else does he make his art?
Allow me to illustrate with a frame from his first film Khamoshi: The Musical. The second image is from Pakeezah.
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam references Red Beard, Woh 7 Din.
Devdas references Pakeezah more than once.
Black references The Miracle Worker.
Saawariya references Pyaasa, Awaara.
Guzaarish references Whose Life Is It Anyway?
Goliyon Ki Raasleela: Ram-Leela references Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, West Side Story.
Bajirao Mastani references Mughal-E-Azam.
Padmaavat references Mirch Masala.
Gangubai Kathiawadi, let’s give him the benefit of doubt is all his own, original artistry.
The American filmmaker Jim Jarmusch once meta quoted the French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard when he said:
Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery — celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from — it’s where you take them to.
SLB believes he takes art and betters it, removing the grubby coat of slime from the sublime, often not concerned with acknowledging the source. He is a master’s master, elevating it to an otherworldly experience, the creator of a mythoverse.
He asked me to rewrite a scene I didn’t agree with. He banged the script folders on the table like a petulant, little child. I watched his posture change into a frump. Tiger Shroff’s ‘Bacchi ho kya,’ dialogue comes to mind.
You are talking like those critics who find fault but don’t know how to write. They should write the film,’ he said.
That argument will never make sense to me but since I write movies now and not just about them, I rewrote the scene in half an hour and showed it to him. He found it rubbish.
I was not called to the writer’s room for a week.
His CEO said I should go to his house; hang around him, like the other assistants whose only purpose in life is to feed his ego. We are slaves to his vision, she said. She thought I was a better writer than the team he had assembled. ‘From whatever I read, only three lines of your work on social media, I could sense it,’ she said.
Either she was encouraging, or bluffing with a perfectly Zen face. From the hundreds of Ganesh idols stacked in her room, it was clear she wasn’t a reader. She was good at reading numbers, data, and stats. She would sense a sign if one of the metal idols sucked milk from a spoon on the day she enquired about box –office figures.
There was more than one right-wing hardliner in his office. Secular staff was invisible. A pretty minion in baby pink t-shirt, whose main grouse was that another minion called him a Barbie doll, said he was happy with the Modi government building roads in his home state Bihar. Another minion countered him by asking: What about the persecution of minorities by the same government? The pretty minion said he didn’t care for that. He was assisting ‘sir’ because he wanted to be an actor. Which lead me to wonder how many Muslim actors has this production worked with? Silly of me to think, right? Given that I myself don’t use my Muslim surname. I’ve now successfully planted a myth in your head. That’s how it works.
In the time that I was in Versova during my brief stint at Bhansali Productions, I met several people with their own SLB horror story. A producer said, ‘He is a difficult man but life changes for good after you work with him. Some people want to go through hell first. Life bann jaati hai.’ I didn’t understand why purgatory was necessary. Another former assistant said, ‘When you work with the worst (SLB) and the best (KJO), you are ready for the rest.
A young woman gave him a thesis she wrote on his films. He asked her to write a book on her. She said she wanted to assist as a director. She never heard from him. A filmmaker said SLB was too friendly with another assistant, suggesting intimacy. A writer wasn’t given credit in a film.
Another writer was promised his script will be turned into a film but it never took off and now he feels his life has been ruined. A young filmmaker’s debut movie SLB produced was delayed, not promoted, and called ‘kachra’ to his face.
The young man said SLB is sexist, homophobe, classist, fat shamer, emotional abuser, and a body shamer. “He is a joyless pit of darkness where happiness goes to die. And those are the nicest words I can think of to describe him,” he said. Another filmmaker said a choreographer was in a relationship with SLB and wanted to marry him but he wouldn’t even touch her, a hotly discussed conversation amongst his minions.
Everything sounds hokum. A successful man is likely to upset a few. The few will talk. Their words may ring true through a gossamer veil of implausibility. Myths magnifying his persona.
There are too many myths about his personal life, aroused by his silence on the subject but all too obvious in his work. When people want to confirm with me, I am equally appalled at their lack of aesthetics. Like the great reader of curtains, Edgar Allan Poe, you only have to look at SLB’s use of billowy curtains in films to guess.
Above stanza, courtesy Poe, poem: The Raven.
Hope you get the drift, or draft, hawa ka jhonka! By the way, am digressing now, is the weirdly named character Sameer Rosselline in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam the first mainstream Hindi film hero to pass wind? The ruffled curtains are first to be cautioned though.
Unlike most people willing to swallow their pride to work with SLB, few like the eponymous Gangubai character choose izzat. The house-help employed in my actor friend’s house was asked to work as a cook in his house. When she heard the whimsy, dessert-craving demands, she declined the offer. I identify with her no-nonsense style.
In November 2021, a filmmaker read a film script I wrote and said, ‘This is SLB territory. Only he can make it. It is the modern love-story he has been wanting to make for a long time.
Are you sure?’ I asked, somewhat flattered but also bewildered.
Yes, we just have to change the setting from Calcutta-Bombay to Calcutta-New York. It is what he has been trying to crack. I’ll get him to read it.
I never spoke to SLB about my script. I did not want to look like a schemer. I had only got a chance because of my mother’s story. I had come to write courtesan songs. Hindi films are recognised by their songs. His films have show tunes that live on long after the sequins and mirrors reflect a decadent style. He employs the old-fashioned method of making Hindi films, which is to stitch scenes around a song, not the other way round. And when you glean your references from the best of classical melodies, how can you falter?
My own SLB story is that after watching Saawariya in 2007, I wrote a few songs, moved to Bombay, lived in Versova, close to Magnum Opus, and hoped to meet him, but made no effort even though I came in close contact with people who worked directly with him. I never requested for a meeting. Over the years, I too had heard a few horror stories about him. I only believe in what I see. I waited when he would call for me, my work would have to speak for itself.
A day before Good Friday, his CEO sat me down and said it’s not working out.
There’s a mythical story of how Lata Mangeshkar was on her way to record a song for SLB but the heavens poured and she had to turn her car back. A typical SLB frame of hope and hopelessness.
Never work with your idols. You’ll have a better story to imagine and create myths.
I was so relieved to leave. I hadn’t got a moment to read, or write, let alone think since I got here. Why I wanted to work with SLB was to not believe in hearsay. I will either confirm or deny.
Great,’ I said, ‘everyone deserves an off on Good Friday.
The office was unsure about public holidays. SLB’s mood dictated the calendar.
Before returning to Calcutta, I met a friend entrenched in the film business.
When she heard of the fiasco, she said, ‘I’ve heard he is very anal, is he?
The vibrator jokes never stop.
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2024.05.21 23:44 Due_Ad_3200 Acts 2 and the Trinity

Peter's sermon includes this
No, this is what was spoken by the prophet Joel:...
...And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.
Acts 2:16 and 21
https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Acts+2&version=NIV
This is quoting Joel chapter 2
And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved
https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Joel+2%3A32&version=NIV
In the context of Joel, "the Lord" refers to God.
https://www.blueletterbible.org/kjv/joe/2/1/t_conc_878032
Peter then goes on to talk about Jesus, concluding with this
36 “Therefore let all Israel be assured of this: God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Messiah.”
https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Acts+2%3A36&version=NIV
What is noteworthy is that, having said that people should call on the name of the Lord (kyrios in Greek), Peter goes on to say that Jesus is Lord (kyrios) and Christ.
https://www.blueletterbible.org/lexicon/g2962/kjv/t0-1/
Jesus is distinct from God the Father
22 “Fellow Israelites, listen to this: Jesus of Nazareth was a man accredited by God to you by miracles, wonders and signs, which God did among you through him, as you yourselves know.
But Jesus is also referred to as "Lord", the word here that also is used when quoting Old Testament references to God.
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2024.05.21 23:38 geoffsn Gave a talk on Sunday. Happy to hear thoughts on it.

Good morning sisters and brothers, fellow Saints of our aspirational Zion. I was asked to speak and allowed to decide what the topic would be. After a lot of consideration I felt inspired to speak about being Actively Engaged in a Good Cause and how that relates to the full name of the church.
I was glad when President Nelson decided to put more emphasis on the full name of the church. Not that I mind using the term Mormon, but because I do find the full name of the church to be significant. When the church was organized in 1830 it was called the Church of Christ. In 1834 the members voted to change the name of the church to the Church of the Latter-day Saints. Then in 1838 Joseph had a revelation for the name to be The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. While this effectively combined the two previous names, it also highlights something that I think most people overlook. Namely that the church is not only Jesus’s church, but that the church also belongs to us, the Latter-day Saints. We too have ownership of the church. While this may sound strange at first, it actually also fits very well with another concept that Joseph Smith taught: Theodemocracy.
Joseph spoke of this most actively the year before his death when running for President of the United States and when the Council of Fifty was created. The idea also holds in it that while God is in charge, we also have ownership and must have a say, actively vote, propose new ideas, and generally be actively engaged in moving things forward. It is not a theocracy with a fake voting system attached like that of North Korea. However, we have largely seen our own tradition move from one in which we do things by common consent including adding to our canon or as in 1834 voting to change the name of the church, towards something much more akin to voting in North Korea. This has coincided with other shifts in which we have taken less and less ownership of our church and as a result failed to properly sustain and support our leaders.
It is unfair to our leaders for us to sit back and wait for them to do frankly most of the heavy lifting when it comes to the running and functioning of our church, stake, and ward. In the past when I’ve been in callings that required me to be overseeing the assignments of home teaching or really any other church assignments, my experience has been that occasionally some inspiration will strike for some of the assignments, but that for the majority, I felt like I was left to figure out myself what assignments seemed to make the most sense. I know that many leaders that I have spoken to on this topic have also had such experiences. When we as members speak with our leaders, share information with them, it makes it much easier to make the best decisions. Without that feedback much more is left to guesswork.
We need to support and sustain our leaders, but this becomes difficult or challenging if we bring some assumptions to the table when considering how we do this. A major one as I see it is when we put too much trust in the arm of the flesh and grant our leaders infallibility or the lesser but largely equivalent functional infallibility.
As the saying goes: “Catholics say that the Pope is infallible, but none of them believe it. Mormons say that the Prophet is fallible, but none of them believe it.” Brigham Young recognized the potential for harm in this setting and said:
"I am fearful [the Saints will] settle down in a state of blind self-security, trusting their eternal destiny in the hands of their leaders with a reckless confidence that in itself would thwart the purposes of God in their salvation, and weaken the influence they could give to their leaders, did they know for themselves, by the revelations of Jesus, that they are led in the right way.” – Brigham Young 1862 General Conference (quoted in General Conference of the church in 1963 and in 1989)
And this one is also important:
"And none are required to tamely and blindly submit to a man because he has a portion of the priesthood. We have heard men who hold the priesthood remark, that they would do anything they were told to do by those who presided over them, if they knew it was wrong; but such obedience as this is worse than folly to us; it is slavery in the extreme; and the man who would thus willingly degrade himself should not claim a rank among intelligent beings, until he turns from his folly. A man of God… would despise the idea. Others, in the extreme exercise of their almighty authority have taught that such obedience was necessary, and that no matter what the saints were told to do by their presidents, they should do it without asking any questions. When Elders of Israel will so far indulge in these extreme notions of obedience as to teach them to the people, it is generally because they have it in their minds to do wrong themselves.” – Millennial Star, vol.14 #38, pp. 593-95
Yet does this functionally happen in the church? Do we follow this council to find out for ourselves instead of simply assuming everything from our leaders is divine? Apostle Charles W. Penrose, who would later serve as counselor to President Smith, declared:
"President Wilford Woodruff is a man of wisdom and experience, and we respect him, but we do not believe his personal views or utterances are revelations from God; and when ‘Thus saith the Lord’, comes from him, the saints investigate it: they do not shut their eyes and take it down like a pill.” – Millennial Star 54:191
Do we do this? When the prophet says “Thus saith the Lord” do we take the time to investigate it? Do we remember President Kimball’s reaction to Elder Benson’s talk on the “14 fundamentals of following the prophet”?
"Spencer felt concern about the talk, wanting to protect the Church against being misunderstood as espousing ultraconservative politics or an unthinking “follow the leader” mentality. The First Presidency again called Elder Benson in to discuss what he had said and asked him to make explanation to the full Quorum of the Twelve and other General Authorities… A First Presidency spokesman Don LeFevre reiterated to the press the day after the speech that it is “simply not true” that the Church President’s “word is law on all issues—including politics.” – Lengthen Your Stride – Working Draft, by Edward Kimball
I’ve had the opportunity to know some great Mormons who do take this approach, but I’ve also known many who treat quotes from church leaders like downloaded messages from God (no human filters involved).
If we can believe that God is capable of inspiring our leaders, surely we can believe God is capable of letting us know when they’re wrong. If instead we assume that their judgment is always superior to our own, perhaps we’re helping to put up a massive iron gate.
"How often has the Holy Spirit tried to tell us something we needed to know but couldn’t get past the massive iron gate of what we thought we already knew?" – Dieter Uchtdorf 2012 Worldwide Leadership Training
Moses once opined “Would that all the Lord's people were prophets, that the Lord would put his Spirit on them!” We have all been confirmed members of the church and in that confirmation told to receive the Holy Ghost. It is easy to forget that when the spirit tells us something, that is a member of the Godhead speaking to us. If we can believe that God can give guidance to our leaders surely we can also believe God can give us guidance.
Another important and often overlooked point is the context to this oft quoted verse:
"We have learned by sad experience that it is the nature and disposition of almost all men, as soon as they get a little authority, as they suppose, they will immediately begin to exercise unrighteous dominion." -D&C 121:39
This statement wasn’t given in a vacuum. It is in the middle of a long discussion of priesthood and priesthood authority. This is talking specifically about priesthood leaders. When we read that “many are called but few are chosen,” we’re reading that many priesthood leaders abuse their power and only few truly honor it. The saints in Joseph’s day understood this. I think we’ve sanitized it over the years to make it seem like an aside, an intermission on the discussion of priesthood. This statement is as true now as ever. This verse, with its proper context, needs to be a lesson for us as members. We need to sustain and support our leaders. This doesn’t mean following them blindly. This doesn’t mean we must become “yes-men” to them. This does mean pray for them to be chosen instead of just called. This does mean to influence our leaders to do God’s will. Remember, one of Brigham’s concerns about us acting as if all our leaders decisions were divine is that it will “weaken the influence [we] could give to [our] leaders.”
What questions our church leaders will take to the Lord are impacted by our own openness to those things. In 1977 President Kimball expressed concern that if the Race-ban on priesthood was removed that there would be pushback from members in the American South and from some in the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. When President Hinckley was asked in an interview about the Gender-ban on priesthood his response was that “there’s no agitation for it.” Until we better engage in our own history and understand how we got to where we are now it will be very difficult if not impossible for us as members to be prepared for the removal of the current gender-ban on priesthood.
Sometimes we might justify our own spiritual laziness by saying that while our leaders are fallible that God will never let them lead us astray, granting them a sort of functional infallibility. Nevermind that this was first said when my 3rd-great-grandpa President Woodruff was trying to convince members not to leave over the Manifesto. Nevermind that it means that we’re denying our leaders their agency by assuming that God removes their ability to make mistakes in their callings. Maybe some make such a statement more nuanced. Maybe they think that our leaders can make mistakes, but they won’t be majosignificant mistakes. Well, what is and isn’t significant depends a lot on who you are and how you’re being affected by it. I’m thinking that the women and children who were slaughtered in prophet-sanctioned genocide in the Bible considered that a significant mistake. I’m thinking that the thousands denied temple blessings their entire lives because of the color of their skin might consider that significant.
Let’s just recognize that few are chosen and that we need to give our leaders constructive/interactive support. We place a lot of responsibility on our leaders and they are very likely to make mistakes. Because they are human and doing their best, but as humans we all err from time to time. Recognizing the mistakes of our leaders is essential to giving them true support; it is vital to sustaining them. I would hope that we would avoid enabling or cheerleading bad decisions that friends or family are about to make. Pointing out why a decision will be or was problematic is what we expect of people who we truly love and support us, because it helps us to avoid pain and pitfalls and enables us to be our best.
Here’s a story from our little section of Salt Lake City in which members recognized the potential for mistakes and took ownership of our church. On August 23rd, 1896 Stake President Angus M. Cannon proposed a man to be the bishop of a new ward which was to be divided from the Sugar House Ward. The congregation voted against the proposed new bishop. President Angus M. Cannon then purportedly shouted "Sit down! and shut your mouths, you have no right to speak!" When Cannon engaged in a shouting match with the dissenting congregation, a ward member and policeman threatened to arrest the stake president for disturbing the peace. President Cannon more calmly repeated his attempt but was voted down "again several times." The Secretary of the First Council of the Seventy was in attendance and wrote in his journal: "I have been taught that the appointing power comes from the priesthood and the sustaining power from the people and that they have the right of sustaining or not sustaining appointees.
When it comes to being actively engaged in church endeavors our neighborhood and the general Sugar House area has done a lot. The "stake missionary program" began in the Granite Stake under President Frank Taylor in the early 1900s. It was an idea presented to President Taylor who then prayerfully considered trying it out as a stake. It proved successful and was later picked up by the General Authorities who made it a church-wide program.
The seminary program was also started in our stake after Joseph Merrill (a newly called member of the Granite Stake Presidency) felt inspired to start it and worked out agreements with the school board and got it going at the very new (at the time) Granite High School.
Also, in 1909 the Granite Stake started a monthly family home evening program. After counseling with many sisters and brothers in the stake, the Stake Presidency asked each family to spend Tuesday evening home together. All of these were local things which were eventually picked up and run at the church-wide level. We have a history in our area of being anxiously engaged and pioneering with new ideas.
While those are all instances of members, wards, and stakes starting programs for good causes in our area of Salt Lake City, they are just a few examples of Saints starting inspired efforts which were eventually accepted and promoted by the top church leaders. The relief society started when women in Nauvoo came together to do some good. The Primary program, Sunday school, Mutual Improvement Association, welfare/farming, organized genealogy efforts, and Young Adult programs all also started as members and local leaders were anxiously engaged and thereby gave influence to the top church leaders.
So as we consider how we can more actively engage in the church and look at what we can do now that would help to further the kingdom of God, I’d like to share a few things that have been on my mind which I feel would be steps which we can do now and which doesn’t require any new doctrines, revelations, or organizational adjustments from our leadership.
  1. Give leaders their agency and remove the false idol of functional infallibility
I’ve already said a lot about this. The only thing I’ll add is to encourage everyone to read and learn about our history. The church history department has been putting out a lot of new, well-researched material, and there is a very high chance that it will be different than how you learned about things over the last several decades. Interestingly, most historically thorny topics become vastly easier to deal with when we stop denying leaders agency and ability to get things wrong.
  1. Stop turning into a time capsule of the 1950s
This is really a small thing, but sometimes small things can have an outsized impact. Assuming someone comes into church for the first time, they will likely be a little weirded out because in dress and culture they walked into a time capsule of the 1950s. The Amish did this with mid-1800s, some Mennonites have as well. FLDS have with when they split in the 1930s/40s. These groups that have followed this pattern of freezing time and culture because they have been integrated into their religious practice are generally ones that are not really growing and have little-to-no impact or relevance in society. If we want to do the most good and build the most bridges, it is easier to do if we don’t continue falling into this pattern. Any efforts on our part to make our meetings look like a place that people in the public could come into and not feel out of place are steps in this direction. Dresses, suits and ties aren’t part of Christ’s gospel. Missionary clothing is changing for similar reasons. New guidelines for missionaries include allowing sisters to wear pants and Elders to go without jackets, so surely we can extend the same to our church attendance.
  1. Always speak at church as though the audience is the general public
I have many times felt like I didn’t fit in or belong at church, and many times this has been because people speaking at church have done so with the assumption that everyone in the building must share their views on a given topic. Simply imagining that a gay couple, an ex-mormon, an investigator, some in the midst of a faith crisis, and others who live in our neighborhood are in the audience will help us to make sure that as we teach our lessons, give our talks, etc. that we will do so in the most open and welcoming way possible, which frankly is how i believe Jesus would have spoken. I truly believe that if we try to do this it will drastically improve our lessons and dialogue and help to make church a place that more people want to be. It is a change that (to borrow imagery from Jesus’s parable of the sower) will be akin to tilling and prepping the soil to improve the likelihood of allowing seeds to take root.
There are near infinite ways that we can innovate and get engaged in good causes. Awake and arise, join in the cause of Zion. The aspiration of Zion is to be of one heart and one mind and have no poor among us. I think it is worth noting that being of one mind doesn’t mean agreeing on everything. It means that we are united in love; love for God and for all persons. When this is our top priority, when we worry about how our actions impact others and whether our words and actions are conveying love, we become united. I’ve been a long-time fan of Eugene England’s essay “The church is as true as the gospel.” In it he makes the case that the church is true because it is a vehicle in which we are able to actually try to put the gospel into practice. In doing so we encounter difficulties as we interact with other fallible mortals and try to navigate our interactions in a Christ-like way. We all try and this mix of imperfect people who unite in love and service can help to bring each other and others to Christ. It is my prayer that we can find ways to engage with love, and humble ourselves like little children, to change our ways as needed to come closer to Christ. I leave this with you in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
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2024.05.21 23:35 Historical_Key4030 Was Muhammad illiterate?

The Quran claims that Muhammad is illiterate:
Those who follow the Messenger, the illiterate (ummi) prophet... S. 7:157
Definition of 'Illiterate':-
a person who is unable to read or write.
Therefore, if we find sufficient evidence from the Quran and the ahadith which demonstrate that Muhammad was literate, it would necessitate a reevaluation of the Quranic assertion of his illiteracy.
The prevailing belief among many Muslims is that the historical figure of Muhammad was illiterate and therefore incapable of producing the Quran. However, it is important to note that both the Quran and the ahadith provide evidence that Muhammad possessed the ability to read and write!

Evidence from the Quran

The following verses commanded Muhammad to read:
Read! (Iqra) In the Name of your Lord, Who has created (all that exists) … Read! (Iqra) And your Lord is the Most Generous, Who has taught (the writing) by the pen [the first person to write was Prophet Idrees (Enoch)], S. 96:1, 3-4
The mention of the pen clearly indicates that Muhammad was being directed to read a written text, rather than merely recite spoken words.
In fact, the Quran says that Allah will make Muhammad read the Quran so that he won’t forget it:
We shall make thee read (O Muhammad) so that thou shalt not forget S. 87:6
Other places where Muhammad is commanded to read the Quran include:
When you read the Quran, you shall seek refuge in GOD from Satan the rejected. S. 16:98
When you read the Quran, we place between you and those who do not believe in the Hereafter an invisible barrier. S. 17:45
A Quran that we have released slowly, in order for you to read it to the people over a long period, although we sent it down all at once. S. 17:106 And lo! It is a revelation of the Lord of the Worlds, Which the True Spirit hath brought down Upon thy heart, that thou mayst be (one) of the warners, In plain Arabic speech. And lo! it is in the Scriptures of the men of old. Is it not a token for them that the doctors of the Children of Israel know it? And if We had revealed it unto one of any other nation than the Arabs, And he had read it unto them, they would not have believed in it. S. 26:192-199
Your Lord knows that you meditate during two-thirds of the night, or half of it, or one-third of it, and so do some of those who believed with you. GOD has designed the night and the day, and He knows that you cannot always do this. He has pardoned you. Instead, you shall read what you can of the Quran. He knows that some of you may be ill, others may be traveling in pursuit of GOD's provisions, and others may be striving in the cause of GOD. You shall read what you can of it, and observe the contact prayers (Salat), give the obligatory charity (Zakat), and lend GOD a loan of righteousness. Whatever good you send ahead on behalf of your souls, you will find it at GOD far better and generously rewarded. And implore GOD for forgiveness. GOD is Forgiver, Most Merciful. 73:20
and, when the Koran is read to them, do not adore? S. 84:21
The evidence strongly suggests that Muhammad had access to a manuscript from which he could read to the people. Without access to such a manuscript, it raises the question of what he would have been reading from.
If a Muslim claims that the above texts do not necessarily mean that Muhammad was reading an actual book, because there was no Quranic manuscript for him to read, note what the following passage states:
Those who disbelieve say: "This (the Qur'an) is nothing but a lie that he (Muhammad SAW) has invented, and others have helped him at it, so that they have produced an unjust wrong (thing) and a lie." And they say: "Tales of the ancients, which he has written down, and they are dictated to him morning and afternoon." S. 25:4-5
Not only did Muhammad have the Quran written down, showing that he had access to an actual manuscript that he could read, the Quran even refers to pure pages that Muhammad was reading to the people:
A messenger from Allah, reading purified pages (yatlu suhufan mutahharatan) S. 98:1-2
The term suhuf refers to an actual scripture just as the following verse proves:
The Books (suhuf) of Abraham and Moses. S. 87:19
Therefore, we can now conclude that the Quran provides compelling evidence supporting the claim that Muhammad possessed the ability to read and write. A more in-depth examination of the ahadith is now necessary to further substantiate this assertion.

Evidence from the Ahadith

Narrated Anas bin Malik: Once the Prophet wrote a letter or had an idea of writing a letter. The Prophet was told that they (rulers) would not read letters unless they were sealed. So the Prophet got a silver ring made with "Muhammad Allah's Apostle" engraved on it. As if I were just observing its white glitter in the hand of the Prophet… (Sahih al-Bukhari, Volume 1, Book 3, Number 65)
Narrated Anas bin Malik: When the Prophet (ﷺ) intended to write to the Byzantines, it was said to him, "Those people do not read your letter unless it is stamped." So the Prophet (ﷺ) took a silver ring and got 'Muhammad, the Apostle of Allah' engraved on it .... as if I am now looking at its glitter in his hand. (Sahih Al Bukhari, Volume 7, Book 72, Number 764)
Narrated Anas bin Malik: When the Prophet (ﷺ) intended to write to the Byzantines, the people said, "They do not read a letter unless it is sealed (stamped)." Therefore the Prophet (ﷺ) took a silver ring----as if I am looking at its glitter now----and its engraving was: 'Muhammad, Apostle of Allah'. (Sahih Al Bukhari, Volume 9, Book 89, Number 276)
Narrated 'Ursa: The Prophet wrote the (marriage contract) with 'Aisha while she was six years old and consummated his marriage with her while she was nine years old and she remained with him for nine years (i.e. till his death). (Sahih al-Bukhari, Volume 7, Book 62, Number 88)
Narrated 'Ubaidullah bin 'Abdullah: Ibn 'Abbas said, "When the ailment of the Prophet became worse, he said, 'Bring for me (writing) paper and I will write for you a statement after which you will not go astray.' But 'Umar said, 'The Prophet is seriously ill, and we have got Allah's Book with us and that is sufficient for us.' But the companions of the Prophet differed about this and there was a hue and cry. On that the Prophet said to them, 'Go away (and leave me alone). It is not right that you should quarrel in front of me." Ibn 'Abbas came out saying, ""It was most unfortunate (a great disaster) that Allah's Apostle was prevented from writing that statement for them because of their disagreement and noise. (Sahih al-Bukhari, Volume 1, Book 3, Number 114)
Narrated Ibn `Abbas: When the time of the death of the Prophet (ﷺ) approached while there were some men in the house, and among them was Umar bin Al-Khatttab, the Prophet (ﷺ) said, "Come near let me write for you a writing after which you will never go astray."Umar said, "The Prophet (ﷺ) is seriously ill, and you have the Qur'an, so Allah's Book is sufficient for us." The people in the house differed and disputed. Some of them said, "Come near so that Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) may write for you a writing after which you will not go astray," while some of them said what Umar said. When they made much noise and differed greatly before the Prophet, he said to them, "Go away and leave me." IbnAbbas used to say, "It was a great disaster that their difference and noise prevented Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) from writing that writing for them. (Sahih Al Bukhari, Volume 9, Book 92, Number 468)
Narrated Yazid ibn Abdullah: We were at Mirbad. A man with dishevelled hair and holding a piece of red skin in his hand came. We said: You appear to be a bedouin. He said: Yes. We said: Give us this piece of skin in your hand. He then gave it to us and we read it. It contained the text: "From Muhammad, Messenger of Allah (ﷺ), to Banu Zuhayr ibn Uqaysh. If you bear witness that there is no god but Allah, and that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah, offer prayer, pay zakat, pay the fifth from the booty, and the portion of the Prophet (ﷺ) and his special portion (safi), you will be under by the protection of Allah and His Apostle." We then asked: Who wrote this document for you? He replied: The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ). (Sunan Abi Dawud Book 19, Number 2993)
Narrated Al-Bara' bin 'Azib (RA):The Prophet (ﷺ) sent 'Ali to Yemen. The narrator mentioned the complete Hadith. He said, "Ali sent a letter regarding their (the people of Yemen) acceptance of Islam. When Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) read the letter, he prostrated in gratitude to Allah the Most High for that." [Reported by al-Baihaqi].
Muhammad also had access to Syriac books. He also commanded Zaid Bin Thabit to learn the Syriac Language and the book of the Jews:
Ibn Hajar said in Al-Fath: It can be made that he learned their language, reading and writing, because he used to read their books to him and write to them if he wanted to write to them. This is indicated by Al-Tirmidhi’s classification of this hadith by saying: Chapter on what was mentioned in teaching the Syriacs, and in it he mentioned another narration that says In it Zaid: The Messenger of God, may God’s prayers and peace be upon him, commanded me to learn Syriac, and in Sunan Abu Dawud: Zaid bin Thabit - may God be pleased with him - said: The Messenger of God, may God’s prayers and peace be upon him and his family, commanded me to learn the book of the Jews for him, and he said: By God, no Jews believed in my book. So I learned it, and only half a month passed before I mastered it. I would write to him when he wrote, and I would read to him when he wrote to him.
The author of Awn al-Ma’boud said: The Messenger of God, may God bless him and grant him peace, commanded me, that is, to learn the book of the Jews, so I learned for him, that is, for the Messenger of God, may God bless him and grant him peace. He said, meaning, the Prophet, may God bless him and grant him peace, is a conjunction of my command to explain the reason for the matter. The Jews did not believe in my book, that is, I fear if I commanded a Jew. By writing a book to the Jews, or reading a book that the Jews had come to add or subtract from, so I learned it, i.e., a Jewish book, until I mastered it with the dictionary dhāl and waqf, meaning I knew it, mastered it, and taught it, so I used to write for him, i.e., for the Prophet, may God bless him and grant him peace, whenever he wrote, i.e., if he wanted to write.
Al-Tahawi said in Al-Mu’tasir:
It was narrated from Zaid Bin Thabbit, that he said:
The Messenger (PBUH) said: “Do you know Syriac well? I receive Syriac books.” Zaid said: “No.” The Messenger (PBUH) said: “Learn it (Syriac Language).” Zaid said: “So I learned it in seventeen days.”
https://islamweb.net/afatwa/161555/
The evidence from additional hadiths (links given below) attributed to Muhammad strongly indicates his ability to write.
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:2699
https://sunnah.com/mishkat:4049
https://sunnah.com/muslim:1637b
https://sunnah.com/muslim:1637c
https://sunnah.com/nasai:3101
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:3053
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:4431
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:7366
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:5669
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:114
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:4432
https://sunnah.com/muslim:2387
https://sunnah.com/abudawud:4505
https://sunnah.com/abudawud:3649
https://sunnah.com/tirmidhi:2667
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:6880
https://sunnah.com/muslim:1355a
https://sunnah.com/abudawud:4214
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:2938
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:5875
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:7162
https://sunnah.com/nasai:5201
https://sunnah.com/muslim:2092d
https://sunnah.com/muslim:2092e
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:65
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:5872
https://sunnah.com/shamail:89
https://sunnah.com/muslim:2092c
https://sunnah.com/tirmidhi:2715
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:2377
https://sunnah.com/bukhari:5158

Muhammad's Literacy in the Sirat(s)

Muhammad could read and write as we read in Sirat Ibn Ishaq, Kitab at-Tabaqat al-Kabir' by Abu 'Abdullah Muhammad ibn Sa'd, and Al Sira Al Nabawiyya by Ibn Kathir:
Sirat Ibn Ishaq
https://archive.org/details/TheLifeOfMohammedGuillaume
Page 106, about the cave of Hira revelation:
So I (Muhammad) read it, and he departed from me.
Page 649, about correspondence with Musaylima
Musaylima had written to the apostle: ‘From Musaylima the apostle of God to Muhammad the apostle of God. Peace upon you. I have been made partner with you in authority. To us belongs half the land and to Quraysh half, but Quraysh are a hostile people.’ Two messengers brought this letter. A shaykh of Ashja’ told me on the authority of Salama b. Nu’aym b. Mas’ud al-Ashja’I from his father Nu’aym: I heard the apostle saying to them when he read his letter ‘What do you say about it?’ They said that they said the same as Musaylima. He replied, ‘By God, were it not that heralds are not to be killed I would behead the pair of you !’ Then he wrote to Musaylima: ‘From Muhammad the apostle of God to Musaylima the liar. Peace be upon him who follows the guidance. The earth is God’s. He lets whom He will of His creatures inherit it and the result is to the pious. This was at the end of the year 10.
Page 256
The apostle wrote to the Jews of Khaybar according to what a freedman of the family of Zayd b. Thabit told me from ‘Ikrima or from Sa‘id b. Jubayr from Ibn ‘Abbas: “In the name of God the compassionate the merciful from Muhammad the apostle of God friend and brother of Moses who confirms what Moses brought…”
Volume 1, Parts II.73.2
He (Ibn Sa'd) said: Al-Haytham Ibn 'Adi al-Ta'i informed us; he said: Mujàlid Ibn Sa'id and Zakariyá Ibn Abi Zà'idah informed us on the authority of al-Sha'bi; he said: The Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him, used to write after the style of the Quraysh: In Thy name, 0 Allah! Then the verse, "Embark therein! In the name of Allah be its course and its mooring," (Qur'an, 11:41) was revealed, **and he began to write: In the name of Allah.**Then the verse, "Cry unto Allah or cry unto the Beneficent" (Qur'an, 17:110) was revealed, and he began to write; In the name of Allah the Beneficent. Then the verse, "Lo ! it is from Solomon, and Lo ! it is: In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful" (Qur'an, 27: 30) was revealed, and he began to write: In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful.
Volume 1, Parts II.73.3
He (Ibn Sa'd) said: Al-Haytham Ibn 'Adi informed us; Dalham Ibn Salih and Abu Bakr al-Hudhali informed us on the authority of 'Abd Allah Ibn Buraydah, he on the authority of his father, Buraydah Ibn al-Husayb alAslami; (second chain) he (Ibn Sa'd) said: Muhammad Ibn Ishaq related to us on the authority of Yazid Ibn Rumàn and al-Zuhri; (third chain) he (Ibn Sa'd) said: Al-Hasan Ibn 'Umàrah related to us on the authority of Firas, he on the authority of al-Sha'bi; their narrations are mixed up: He (Ibn Sa'd) said: The Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him, wrote [P.20] an epistle to the people of Yaman detailing in it the regulations of Islam and duties on animals and properties. He directed them to treat his Companions and messengers well, and his messengers were Mu'adh Ibn Jabal and Malik Ibn Murarah. He informed them about the coming of their messengers to him and acknowledged the message which he had received from them. They said: The Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him,wrote personal letters to several persons of Yaman; the names of some of them are, alHarith Ibn 'Abd Kulál, Shurayh Ibn 'Abd Kulal, Nu'aym Ibn 'Abd Kulál, Nu'man the prince of Dhu Yazan, Ma'àfir and Hamdan and Zur'ah of Ru'ayn; and the last was the first of Himyarites to embrace Islam... The Apostle of Alláh, may Allah bless him, wrote to them that Malik Ibn Murárah had delivered the message and defended their right in absentia. They said: The Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him, wrote to Musaylimah, the liar, may Allah damn him, inviting him to join the fold of Islam, and sent it through 'Amr Ibn Ummayyah [P. 26] al-Damri. Musaylimah wrote a reply to his epistle saying that he (Musaylimah) was a prophet like him, and asked him to divide the Earth; he also added that the Quraysh were not just. The Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him, said: Curse him; Allah has also cursed him. The Prophet wrote to him: your letter (full of) falsehood and fabrications against Allah has reached me... They said: The Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him, wrote a similar epistle to Bang Mu'awiyah, a branch of Kindah.
'Ath'ath Ibn Zahr and Anas lbn Mudrik waited on the Apostle of Allah, may Allah bless him, with the members of the Khath'am after Jarir Ibn 'Abd Allah had broken Dhua'l-Khalasah and had slain those of Khath'am whom he had slain. Then they said: We believe in Allah, His Apostle and what was revealed by Allah. (They said) write a document for us so that we may follow what might be written therein. Thereupon he wrote a document for him and Jarir Ibn 'Abd Allah and those present testified to it.
THERE ARE MORE EVIDENCES BUT I WILL NOT PROVIDE ALL
AL SIRA AL NABAWIYYA by Ibn Kathir (4 Volumes)
https://archive.org/details/AlSiraAlNabawiyyaByIbnKathirAllVolumesInOnePdf
when the Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote to Chosroe inviting him to accept Islam, he became enraged, tore up the letter and then wrote his own instructions
the Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote to the Jews of Khaybar as follows, “In the name of God the most merciful and beneficent, from Muhammad, the Messenger of God, …”
He wrote a document for us as follows: “In the name of God, the most Merciful and most Beneficent; this is from Muhammad, the Messenger of God, …”
Amr b. Murra and those others of his people who had accepted Islam then went to the Prophet (SAAS). He welcomed and honoured them and wrote for them a document, the text of which was as follows, 'In the name of God, the most Merciful, the most Beneficent, this document is from God through the tongue of the Messenger of God and is a trustworthy document…”
… the Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote to Mus'ab b. Umayr telling him to establish the Friday prayer
… the Prophet (SAAS)__** wrote up a contract between the Emigrants saying that they would respect one another's strongholds, that they would treat with kindness those in distress and bring peace between the Muslims.**
The sahih collection of Muslim quotes Jabir as saying, "The Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote an aqula, a blood-wit pact, for each sub-tribe." Muhammad b. Ishaq stated, "The Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote a contract between the Emigrants and the Helpers…”
…the Messenger of God (SAAS) sent forth 'Abd All& b. Jahsh b. Ri'ab al-Asadi along with eight Emigrants; … He wrote a letter for 'Abd All& b. Jahsh…
They asked them, “Uthman and Abd al-Rahman, your Prophet wrote us a letter and we have come in response to it…”
When they went to him next day,** he wrote for them the following document, 'In the name of God, the most Merciful, the most Beneficent. This is written by Muhammad, the Prophet, the untutored, the Messenger of God, to Najran…”**
The bishop, Abu al-Harith, went to the Messenger of God (SAAS), along with al-Sayyid, al-Aqib and important persons from their people…. He wrote the document for the bishop and those bishops to come after him: 'In the name of God, the most Merciful, the most Beneficent. From.Muhammad, the Prophet,…”
The Messenger of God (SAAS) then wrote a letter to this Mutarrif…
The Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote them the following document…
“The following is the letter we have that the Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote for 'Amr b. Hazam…”
”He then wrote a document appointing me their leader … He then wrote me another document.”
The Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote a document to this effect, as follows, "In the name of God, the most Merciful and Beneficent. This records what Muhammad, Messenger of God, has given to Rabi, Mutrif and Anas…”
The Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote back to him as follows…
He wrote him a document specifying his charge and his orders to him.
…the Messenger of God (SAAS) wrote to him and he restored it to them.
The Prophet (SAAS) **wrote a letter to those of Banu Jurash who accepted Islam,**ordering them to peform the prayer, pay the zakat, and to donate one-fifth of the booty they took.
THERE ARE MORE EVIDENCES BUT I WILL NOT PROVIDE ALL because I am too lazy.
The evidence presented in this post strongly supports the claim that Muhammad was literate and not illiterate, as claimed by the Quran and the Muslims! So, the answer to the question in the title is a BIG NO.
submitted by Historical_Key4030 to CritiqueIslam [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 23:30 M0nt3C4rL05 How I think a Superman horror movie could work (DC Elseworlds fan pitch)

As much as the title seems VERY peculiar (Superman? Horror? Gtfo), I had this idea in my head about it. It might be bad because it's a horror movie take on a character that is far from horrifying, but fuck it.
Just for the heck of it, this story is set in canon to Matt Reeves's Batman universe. But here goes:
The events of this movie happen a few months after the events of "The Batman". Bruce Wayne has held a fundraiser to help rebuild the destroyed dam and reinforce it. He decided to earn Gotham's trust and try to control the narrative behind what Riddler said about Martha Wayne. This, however, isn't as big a news as the fact that Bruce decided to show himself to the world. Perry White from "The Daily Planet" sends his top reporter, Lois Lane, who is slightly jaded in personality, but she puts the story above all else, willing to do anything for a story, even bending the law. Perry does, however, send an intern reporter, Clark Kent, with her, so she could "show him the ropes". Cut to the fundraiser. Lois and Clark hang around at the fundraiser, socialising, getting quotes and stories, etc. That's when Lois eventually crosses paths with the man himself: Bruce Wayne. Lois gets not just an eerie vibe from him, the cologne reminds her of fear. She feels her heart rate rising, her pupils start dilating, she starts sweating when around Bruce, but she pushes that fear away and decides to continue on. They chat each other up and hit it off. Eventually, Bruce offers her to join him in a nightcap and charms her enough with the promise of a much more in-depth interview, just the two of them. Lois accepts and Clark is sent home. During this interview, one thing leads to another, and Lois ends up having sex with Bruce and spending the night with him.
Lois is woken up by Alfred and served breakfast, being informed Bruce has left for Wayne Enterprises. Lois decides to leave and reaches the Daily Planet, where after turning the report in to Perry, heads to the roof for a quick smoke. That's where she sees a man waiting for her, floating in the air. He has blue eyes, he looks straightened and confident, and has straightened hair, with a widow's peak. He's also wearing a blue suit with a weird S on his symbol and a cape. He's floating in the air, petting a stray cat, while giving a warm smile to Lois. Lois is genuinely confused and, weirdly, intimidated by the aura he gives out. Almost like he has the power of a god. She thinks, "Is there yet another freak on this planet? First the monster from Gotham, and now...whoever, no. Whatever, this is?". She has to get a story out of him. She shakes her head out of disbelief, but just like that...he's gone. As if he was never there.
Over the next few days, Lois goes around town, thinking about that man and, at every turn, he's there. Sometimes looking at her from the sky. Sometimes floating, helping a few schoolchildren pass the street. Despite the good she sees him doing, she suspects the man of having an agenda. She starts coining the name: Superman. She tries to ask Perry to give her permission to write a piece on this "Superman", but Perry doesn't let her, claiming no one even knows who this Superman is, and it might all be a hoax. Clark is concerned for Lois and her obsession with this "Superman" and tries to help Lois with her story. Lois starts to suspect Clark of being this "Superman" character she sees throughout Metropolis due to the sheer facial resemblance, even having mental breakdowns over Clark being Superman or not, constantly feeling afraid whether he'll show up or not. Eventually, at night, she sees Superman outside her house and for the first time, he speaks. Using a calm, softer, near deep and melodic voice to talk to Lois Lane. She asks "What do I call you?" to which he replies, "I'm just someone who wants to help around. But I like the name you gave me. Superman. I like it!" She feels nervous, but braves that feeling by getting closer and standing on her tiptoes, kissing Superman.
Throughout the movie, we see more of Lois and Clark trying to figure out the Superman mystery together, getting close enough, but Lois starts to feel even more frustrated, and through seeing Clark, she keeps on thinking he's Superman and even goes through mental episodes. The final scene is Lois standing at the edge of the roof of the Daily Planet, with Clark tearfully pleading her not to jump, but Lois, now fully convinced Clark is Superman, tearfully says "Clark, I know your secret. There's no need to deny it. I know you'll jump and save me. It's okay". She kisses him hard then backs up, closes her eyes, and jumps. Clark tries to reach for her hand, but is a split second too late.
Lois feels herself falling, only for her to gradually slow down. She opens her eyes, only to see Superman again, carrying her in his arms. She kisses him again, and tearfully says "You came." Superman just keeps on smiling, although slightly eerily. "There was no need to be scared of me, Lois. There never was." Lois reaches up to cup his cheek in her hand, but her hand fazes through. She tries again, and again, and again, before realising. "...I'm sorry, Clark." she mutters.
We cut to police sirens, and a silhouette walking over to the body: Batman. He was specially called through the police department via the GCPD, as officers were afraid just going to the body. He slowly walks over: Lois Lane died upon impact when she jumped off the building. Perry was right. "Superman" was a hoax. She hallucinated Superman the whole time. Why? the "cologne" Bruce wore? An unadulterated, raw sample of a gas. "Bruce Wayne" was also just another man posing to be rich, except... he looked very similar to Bruce. Batman checks the body, takes a sample of it, and deduces that she was drugged the night of the fundraiser he held. He simply says to Alfred (listening in via an upgraded cowl) "Whoever did this doesn't want any materialistic things. Given she was drugged in Gotham and did this to herself in another place entirely, our mutual friend wants to undo my work before it even starts." This sets up the sequel for "The Batman Part II"
What do you guys think of this pitch?
submitted by M0nt3C4rL05 to superman [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 23:08 welldonefilmsandtv Oppenheimer: Now I Become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds. WDM’s No. 1 Top Film of 2023

Oppenheimer: Now I Become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds. WDM’s No. 1 Top Film of 2023
https://preview.redd.it/gqwt1sgbhu1d1.jpg?width=750&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=8d277abbc849259d62ea4e492bfbac8135aee64b

Oppenheimer: Now I Become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds. WDM’s No. 1 Top Film of 2023

Original Date Posted on welldonemovies.com - Jan. 15
Written & Edited By: Lee Fenton
Oppenheimer begins with a quote from Greek mythology:
"Prometheus stole fire from the gods and gave it to man. For this, he was chained to a rock and tortured for eternity."
It would be an understatement to say that this opening helps to establish the thematic elements of the movie, in truth - this quote sums up the man as much as it does the film. Christopher Nolan directed Oppenheimer, and he ensured that it wouldn’t be your run of the mill biopic. Whereas most biopics choose to be either a celebration of the subject’s life, or a nuanced take on their flaws, Nolan’s film instead opts for something a little more ethereal. I would argue that Cillian Murphy’s, J Robert Oppenheimer isn’t the main focal point of the film - but that his obsession is.
Ostensibly, his obsession was to unlock the secrets of the known universe.
The film doesn’t begin with a tale of his childhood, or some defining character moment, no, instead it begins with a hearing that is to decide Oppenheimer’s fate within the intelligentsia. He has the air of a man who has allowed his life to be dictated by momentum rather than choices.
Throughout the film we get these motifs of Cillian Murphy staring into the distance imagining the possibilities, these scenes are illustrated with visuals of the cosmos, planetary bodies colliding and imploding, a reflection of the power yet to be unleashed by this figure and his team of physicists. Murphy’s portrayal of Oppenheimer embodies a haunted man, wide-eyed, malnourished, and running entirely on adrenaline and fanaticism. If it wasn’t for this one zealot of change, the world as we know it - would not exist.
What drove this man to do the things he did? Was it a need to defend free thinking and ingenuity? Was it the desire to stem the tide of evil, the evil that persists when good men do nothing?
Or was it something else? Perhaps a need to prove his intellectual prowess above all others, and to leave a lasting mark on this planet.
The movie does not offer any concrete answers, instead it allows the viewer to interpret the visuals as they see fit. Which is really genius, when you think about it. It would be near impossible to commit to a propaganda piece about Oppenheimer - when the man himself was a very polarizing aspect of WW2. His own nation was constantly investigating him, since he kept close contacts and allies within the Soviet party. This is the main conflict of the film, and Christopher Nolan finesse’s this part of the filmmaking expertly - letting you see that Oppenheimer was a family man, but also a distant father and husband. He keeps his secrets but is upfront about his love for Democracy - and by extension - the United States.
He harbours a clear distrust of institutions that assume power in secret, and prefers to associate with activists and scientists, even though his work requires him to ‘bump elbows’ with policy makers, generals, and politicians.
In short, the man was quite complex.
In contrast; Oppenheimer’s complete dedication to the advancement of science was very clear. To touch again on the main focus of the movie, it is Oppenheimer’s unwavering commitment to his furtherance of the atomic bomb.
There, I mentioned the elephant in the room.
Just in case you are unaware of the most pivotal moment in modern history, J Robert Oppenheimer is the father of the atomic bomb. He led a team in Death Valley, Nevada that managed to crack nuclear fission before the Axis Forces in World War 2. This is the relevance of the film, it could be argued this man is the reason why the Allied Forces won against the Nazi’s and Fascists in the largest conflict ever recorded.
This film employs a host of well known actors, including but not limited to: Matt Damon, Cillian Murphy, Florence Pugh, Jack Quaid, Casey Affleck, Robert Downey Jr., and Josh Hartnett.
Going in, that was a bit of a worry for me - as I thought that the style and weight of this movie would class with the use of famous Hollywood stars. As we all are aware, it can hurt the suspension of disbelief if household names are used and they are not appropriately cast or directed. It’s fine when a star manages to ‘disappear into their role’ but if that isn’t achieved, it can be a real detriment to the film.
Thankfully, Oppenheimer does not suffer from weak filmmaking, so, the casting works out rather splendidly. Cillian Murphy really becomes his character; there wasn’t even a brief moment that I thought about Peaky Blinders. Okay… maybe briefly.
The rest of the cast does a more than admirable job in contributing to this robust retelling of history. There were a few dayplayers that I needed a moment or two to adjust, and then I stopped seeing them as themselves, and they blended right into the mix.
I feel bad saying it, since he just won a Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actor; but Robert Downey Jr.(as Lewis Strauss) was the one that I had to really suspend my disbelief. And I don’t think this is due to his performance, as much as it his notoriety from the Marvel superhero movie franchise.
Maybe that’s why they gave him a Golden Globe? It’s pretty difficult to come off a series like that, and go directly into an auteur masterpiece like Christopher Nolan’s most recent film.
And that’s what Oppenheimer is.
It’s a masterpiece.
I consider it one of Nolan’s greatest ever — up there with ‘The Dark Knight’, ‘The Prestige’, and ‘Memento’. Those three are truly immaculate films. But Nolan has other standout movies: Interstellar, Tenet, Batman Begins, and Insomnia, to name a few. So, make sure to check out a few more features by the director. If you haven’t seen them already.
Oppenheimer, released on July 21st 2023 in the US and Canada, to rave reviews and grossing a whopping 953.8 million(USD) at the box office.
It is considered Christopher Nolan’s most successful picture to date.
His magnum-opus , if you will.
And I think you will.
Rating 9.5/10
French fries, Hamburger and a Drive-in Movie.
Is that the smell of freedom?
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2024.05.21 22:51 Koala_Guru Why Hank's villain era didn't work, and how it easily could've (Long Essay)

Hopefully this isn’t downvoted instantly, because I know people seem to get strangely very defensive about Beast’s characterization in this run. I think there is a lot of miscommunication whenever a Beast fan complains about how he was depicted here. Often times people will discount those complaints because they think Beast fans just don’t want him to go bad, when that doesn’t really seem to be the whole truth from what I’ve seen. Ultimately, the complaints I raise and I have seen others raise are more about thinking the writing of his spiral in X-Force 2019 was not done well rather than that said spiral shouldn’t have happened at all. With the Krakoa era coming to an end, and “From the Ashes” having the now-rebooted Beast who is pulled all the way from his time on The Defenders, I don’t see any of the flaws here being addressed beyond characters casually referring to how bad he became. So I wanted to take this time in the in-between, where our new Beast is apparently just chilling on Wonder Man’s couch while the rest of the X-Men fight against Orchis and Nimrod, to once and for all lay out the flaws of Beast’s villainous era, and establish not that it shouldn’t have happened, but that it could have been way better.
Problem 1: A Lack of Pathos:
Most X-Men fans who have been reading for awhile will agree that it’s honestly surprising more mutants haven’t gone down a dark path. Their history is one of striving for acceptance, putting their lives on the line for people who would rather see them dead, and being rewarded with not one but multiple genocides on their population. Some of the most interesting stories can actually come from a formally “upstanding” mutant finally deciding enough is enough. When Cyclops went down his “villainous” path, it made a lot of sense. We’d seen him becoming more disenfranchised with the dream for years. We’d seen his trust in Xavier erode time and time again, and so when he decided to stop asking for acceptance and start demanding it, it was hard to blame him. Even as we saw most of his friends turn against him, that didn’t stop people from declaring “Cyclops Was Right,” because his perspective could easily be understood, and he did achieve results. More recently in X-Men ‘97, we saw Rogue go down a dark path in the wake of Genosha being wiped out, including Magneto and Gambit. Again, this was understood, and it was an interesting direction for her character.
This sort of turn would also make a ton of sense for Hank McCoy. Did you know that back towards the start of the original Uncanny X-Men run, Hank was actually the first X-Men we ever saw to leave the team and say that Magneto was right, after he and Bobby were attacked by an angry mob because Hank used his powers to save a young child? Over the years, one of Hank’s most recurring struggles and arcs is self-loathing and eventual acceptance of his condition. Hank has always been at his darkest when he’s trapped in his spiral of self-loathing, but when he comes out the other side, he tends to be one of the most optimistic mutants when it comes to coexistence with humans. He was out making connections and fighting alongside non-mutants before anyone else. Joining the Avengers and Defenders, speaking on behalf of mutant rights before congress, dating human women who were able to accept his appearance, blue fur and all. Until they weren’t… looking at you, Trish Tilby.
So with all of this in mind, it would honestly be an extremely interesting arc to see Hank, this optimistic mutant who has spent his life building bridges and making connections with humanity, to be slowly beaten down and start to believe peace is not an option. As one of the original X-Men, he has been there through every tragedy that struck the mutant population. And as one of the smartest X-Men, he has usually been at the center of these crises. He has seen advancements in science meant to eradicate the mutants. He has fought against viruses that threaten to drive them extinct. He was there in the wreckage of Genosha. He has seen countless friends killed again and again. He has suffered his own mutation evolving and making him less and less human-looking. He saw the development of a mutant “cure” and was tempted to take it. He has seen it all.
And so that brings us to Krakoa. This is the moment where the mutants as a whole decided enough was enough. If they could not be accepted by humanity, they would pack up and form their own nation, and they would force humanity to accept that they exist by developing life-saving drugs that other nations would have to rely on. And what is one of the first things that happens after the establishment of Krakoa? Hank witnesses assassins infiltrate the island and assassinate Charles Xavier. This right here is honestly the perfect setup for Hank to go darker than he has before. Even after literally segregating the mutant population from humanity, like humanity seemed to want, they still decided to come and kill the man at the forefront of the movement. And Hank, recently placed in charge of mutant black-ops, would likely see that all options are on the table.
Unfortunately, Hank’s actual pathos surrounding the decisions he would go on to make is not explored by the book itself. The book has no interest in detailing Hank’s fall from grace as we saw with Cyclops before him. The book just wants us to accept that Hank has already fallen. And in fact, according to the writing, maybe he never had anywhere to fall from. Any time a character in X-Force tries to ask important questions to understand Hank’s thought process, they are cut off. Usually by Wolverine saying “He’s always been like this.” And then on one occasion, when Wolverine asked Hank why he was doing all this dark shit, Hank said, “Didn’t you read the script? I’ve always been like this.” There is no attempt to examine Hank as a character. We don’t need to know why Hank makes the decisions he does, because this book wants Hank to be a black and white villain and so that’s what he will be. Why? Because he’s always been like this.
Problem 2: Rapid Escalation:
One of the major defenses people have when it comes to Krakoan Hank is that he has apparently been on the road to his villainous self for over a decade. The X-Force run itself loved to have characters spout a list of Hank’s previous “crimes” without any context involved, as justification for why he was acting the way he did in the current run. The problem is, that context is very important. Because it shows the disparity in the Hank of previous stories who made mistakes with good intentions vs the Hank of X-Force who did heinous shit because he wanted to. This was less a plane making a slow descent and more a plane that was slowly descending, but then its engines shut off and it plummeted into a fiery explosion.
To make this case, we need to briefly analyze the previous perceived transgressions of Hank McCoy to show what they actually meant for his character and how they differ from the Bond villain X-Force would present us with. Let’s start with Threnody. Somehow, Threnody became a bit of a buzzword for the beginning of the end for Hank. When people talk about the history of Hank and Threnody, they will usually present it as one of Hank’s worst sins, saying something like “Hank callously handed Threnody over to Mr. Sinister so he could experiment on and abuse her!!!” It kind of makes for some whiplash when you actually read the Threnody story people are talking about. Here is a brief rundown of what actually happens:
Threnody is a young woman who cannot control her powers. It causes her no end of grief, and when we are introduced to her, she is homeless and constantly in danger of hurting herself or others. Beast, Rogue, and Iceman come across Threnody who has been found first by Mr. Sinister. Sinister actually has a vested interest in curing the Legacy Virus, and believes he can help Threnody master her powers, at which point she will prove vital in his efforts to study said Virus. Notably, Threnody wants to go with Sinister here. While Rogue disapproves, Hank does believe that Sinister is actually Threnody’s best option, openly stating Sinister can actually help her gain control and the X-Men cannot, because, as Hank directly says, Sinister is willing to damn parts of his soul in pursuit of scientific enlightenment, and the X-Men are not. A few issues later, when breaking into Sinister’s base, Hank encounters Threnody again. She’s happy. Sinister did indeed help her control her powers, and she has been able to use her abilities to help mutants the world over, while also undermining Sinister’s more evil operations from the inside. Hank expresses relief, saying he was kept up at night by his decision to let her go with Sinister, but Threnody actually thanks him for letting her. And that’s it. That’s Hank’s big “crime” here.
Hank’s other “sins” are also of varying levels of severity. There’s the time “Hank worked with his evil self to cure the Legacy Virus!” when the actual story in question is Hank asserting that he won’t stoop to the levels of Dark Beast and compromise his values in the name of science. There’s the time “Hank sided with the Inhumans against the X-Men!” when the actual story is Storm sending Hank to Attilan to find a way to end the conflict between mutants and inhumans before war broke out. Hank runs out of time to find a cure for the terrigen mist cloud, suggests mutants get off-world in the meantime rather than go to war with the inhumans, is thrown into a cell by the other X-Men for his “betrayal”, and then freed at the conclusion of the war by a repentant Storm when it comes to light that the whole conflict was manipulated by Emma Frost. There’s the time “Hank risked the timestream by bringing the original X-Men to the present day!” A decision that was made on his perceived deathbed with the hopes of bringing his old friend Cyclops back to his side. Hank wants to take the young mutants back right away, but they refuse. And instead of others enforcing that they need to return, we actually see Kitty Pride decide to lead them in the present in memory of Charles Xavier. Notably, Kitty would be one of the many mutants in future issues who would yell at Hank about this.
The point of this post isn’t to absolve Hank of all fault. He has made countless mistakes and bad decisions. Regardless of the culpability of others, the pulling of the O5 to the present was his decision. During Secret Empire, Hank would turn a blind eye to Hydra’s activity simply to keep the mutants under his care safe. During all of this, however, Hank’s character was not compromised. He expressed despair and regret over his worse choices, and struggled with thinking he was a good person any longer. Again, going back to his recurring struggle with self-loathing. He had pathos behind his decisions and how they affected him, and would often reunite with Wonder Man as an opportunity to recenter and declare he would “be better tomorrow than he was yesterday.”
You would think, if the aim of X-Force was to turn Hank into a full-on villain, it would take advantage of the long-form storytelling of comics to chronicle that escalation. Like I said, the assassination of Charles Xavier is a great starting point for Hank to start going darker than he ever has before. The problem is, we don’t get an escalation. Hank starts the run by doing some of the most heinous shit imaginable. Regardless of your thoughts on the severity of Hank’s previous mistakes, none of them compare to his opening volley in this run. Hank uses telefloronics to override and genocide an entire country, leaving various people either completely dead or braindead. We later find out that during this time he also established a space station where he ran unethical experiments on prisoners like Krakoa’s very own Dr. Mengele. He then accuses his old ally Colossus of conspiring with Russia against Krakoa, and calls forth the mutant population to witness as he parades a shamed Colossus through its streets. Then he kills Wolverine and resurrects him as a mindless animal who he uses as an attack dog against his perceived enemies. This isn’t an escalation, this is a different character. And the aforementioned lack of pathos means that we don’t get to see him struggle with these choices. We don’t see his thought process as he becomes darker and darker. Why would we? “He’s always been like this.”
Problem 3: No Personality:
One of the most fun aspects of turning a protagonist into an antagonist is seeing how their personality works with a more villainous mindset. When Cyclops became an “antagonist” to the X-Men, he was still Cyclops. He stuck to his convictions, he was a great leader and tactician, and he was able to turn many mutants to his side because of this. We’ve seen an evil Beast before. The creatively-named Dark Beast is from an alternate future where Beast went down a dark path lacking ethics. The fun of this character, besides comparing his ideologies with our Hank McCoy, is seeing how Hank’s penchant for jokes or quotes now become far more sinister and cutting.
There’s a strange narrative that the jokey Hank is reserved for the Avengers while the Hank with the X-Men is all business and science. This isn’t entirely true. Early on when he was a member of the Defenders, Hank talks about this sort of thing. He essentially says that he wears different hats. While working with the X-Men, he used big words essentially to gain respect from both his teammates and humanity. But with other teams, and in his then-new furry form, he dropped all of that. His speech became more naturalistic and he was much more of a goofball. The thing is, it’s the speech patterns that truly change depending on who Hank is hanging with, not his personality. Hank with the X-Men and Hank with the Avengers are both jovial characters who like to tell jokes and quote philosophy. You can see Hank being a bit of a clown among the X-Men in various runs. So it’s not like it’s a given that Hank is some entirely different dry doctor devoid of any sense of humor when among the X-Men.
But this is how Hank is portrayed in X-Force. Part of why this version of Hank is so hard to reconcile with the rest of his history for fans of the character is that he just doesn’t act like himself, even when he isn’t actively committing war crimes. In one early issue of the run, we get a glimpse at Beast’s journal where he accounts a meeting he had with Forge. Now, Beast has been known to be a very physical character. He is often known to sweep others into a hug, or even plant a big kiss on their face in the case of characters like Wonder Man or Iceman. Meanwhile this one page where we read his thoughts on Forge is clearly pretending this is not the case:
I paid Forge a visit in the Armory – and I must say that he can be, like Logan, rather impossible. There is a certain locker room bravado about him I find perplexing, like a language I only half understand. For instance, he refused to shake my hand but instead dragged me into what he called a “bro hug.” Then he challenged me to a “feat of strength,” asking if I would test out this sappy “muck bomb” he had developed that – or so I gather – glues one in place. He wondered if a “big boy” like me might be able to thrash free of the binding. I refused him and said I very much would prefer to get down to business. He then referred to me as a “bookish peckerwood @#$%” but did so with a friendly laugh and clapped me on the shoulder hard enough to make me stagger. I’m not sure how to process this, honestly. Is he being friendly or cruel? Is it possible to be both?
Needless to say, this doesn’t read like Beast. It reads like an android that has never before felt human emotion. I remember before reading this I was theorizing that Hank had been switched with Dark Beast once more to explain his sudden escalation, but after this I realized that couldn’t be the case. Because this sounds like neither Beast nor Dark Beast. Dark Beast understood how to properly write Hank as a villain. He doesn’t suddenly become your typical made scientist devoid of emotion, humor, or basic human understanding. He still makes jokes that are now cruel. He still quotes literature in a way that paints him as a god among men. Hank going bad can be a fun read, but this run was not.
Problem 4: No One Cares:
Another important angle to consider when writing a story of a good person breaking bad is how it affects those around them. Those who are close friends to the person and find themselves disturbed by their current actions. Again, I return to Cyclops. Regardless of where you stand on if he was right or not, he was very much positioned as an antagonist to the mutants at the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning. Yet we see various friends of Cyclops still caring for him and wanting to pull him back from what they perceive as the dark side. Like I previously said, Beast’s whole reason for messing with the timeline was because he felt he was going to die and wanted to try to appeal to his old friend and bring him back around before he passed on. When someone good goes bad, part of the emotional core is seeing former friends try to appeal to their better nature, and even eventually deciding they’ve gone too far to turn back.
Not so with Hank in X-Force. Like I said, this run posits that this is not any kind of heel turn for Hank. This is how he’s always been. “Hank this isn’t you!” “No, he’s always been like this.” “Hank, turn back before it’s too late!” “Turn back where? He’s always been like this.” None of Hank’s friends give a shit. Hank’s best friend amongst the X-Men is Bobby Drake, Iceman, and we never once see any kind of confrontation there. Cyclops and Angel similarly doesn’t care. Now you could argue this is because X-Force is a secretive organization. Bobby and Scott don’t even know what Hank is doing. There are two issues with this. First, things reach a point where they would know. Hank’s actions become public knowledge, and Wolverine goes off to hunt him down while the rest of the X-Men just kinda look the other way. And second, there is someone with a lot of history with Hank that was a part of X-Force and did see everything that was going on. Jean Grey.
But we never get to see Jean wonder what’s happened to her close friend. Jean who was always incredibly close to Hank. Jean who, it was confirmed during the All-New X-Men era, had mutual feelings for Hank and might have started dating him had things been different. But no, Jean, like every character in this run, accepts that Hank has always been like this. That’s the answer to everything. So instead of some kind of emotional confrontation where she tries to appeal to his better nature, we instead have Jean yell at Hank, use her powers to throw him against a wall, and quit X-Force. And then most recently, we see her tell Firestar without hesitation to throw Hank under the bus for any heat that comes her way from her undercover mission. Because everyone will believe Hank is responsible for all the bad shit. Who the hell cares about Hank? According to this run, no one.
Conclusion:
I hope you can see the larger issue here. When Beast fans complain about his Krakoan era, people assume they just don’t want to see their favorite do bad things. But it’s practically accepted at this point in comics that most heroes will have a villain arc. Hell, Iceman is the only one of the original five X-Men who hasn’t gone down a dark path at this point. The problem is that everything about the writing of Hank during this time was just not done well. There is no exploration of Hank’s descent into villainy, and any questioning down that line is immediately shut down by the assertion that this is just who he’s always been. There isn’t any slow escalation because his first move is genocide. Hank is not even written as himself during this era, but rather as a generic bond villain. And none of Hank’s former close friends even show any emotion about his turn to villainy. An evil Hank story could easily work. We saw it with Dark Beast. A story where the former optimistic member of the X-Men has been beaten down so many times that he takes on a “whatever it takes” mentality could be interesting and emotionally resonant as we both understand what drove him here yet hate the man he’s become. But that isn’t what we got. We got a run that wrote him as a complete stranger and then had all the characters tell the reader that they were wrong for ever thinking he was anyone else.
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2024.05.21 21:44 Ipvp4fun Advice

Hey everyone.
I'm 17 years old, turning 18 in July.
I feel kind of lost right now. I get that it's hard for 99% of the people that just turn " 18 " and are " just " entering life and learning the hardships, I've always been aware of these and prepared. I love working, like genuinely love it and spend 24/7 wanting to work.
I just don't know what or where.
So, a little " picture " of me. I was hit by a car back in 8th grade, I don't remember exactly what age that is. In result I was in the hospital for 4 months, had to " re-learn " how to walk since my body had technically forgotten it since I hadn't walked for so long. And this affected what I could do for a couple of years, and I kind of sometimes find it hard to "memorize" stuff. I had broken my left leg, spine, nose and my skull. Worst part was the skull, had to get a VERY risky operation, which thank God it went great and now I've got a very " cool " big ol' scar on my head lol. I was very sporty, I loved sports and wanted to pursue " fighting " sports such as mma and grappling as I got older, so like the age that I am now. But since this happened, Sports & MOSTLY those sports came out of the picture. I used to be a really good b'bal player, I was always put up with people 4-5 years older than me, but stupidly I was " shy " of how skinny I was. Anyways, I was SUPER skinny, and I hated that so much. And I'm basically an ectomorph, no matter HOW much I eat I genuinely don't get fat. So, I put my mind to it, ignoring what the doctors said and started working my ass out. And now, I'm much better, don't feel anything related to the accident. My head just feels a little overwhelmed when let's say I run constantly for like 5+ mins. Anyways, now I'm very very very pleased with my body. It's quite the " dream " body for my age.
I know you might be thinking what in the fuckery does this have to do with me asking for advice about " work ", I'm basically trying to tell you that if I put my mind to something nothing stops me. I don't need "motivation" to pursue something, all I need is the " start " and I just chase till finish. And That is how it is for me, 99% of the time the start is hard for me.
I guess I'm good with languages. I speak Armenian, Persian, English and a little Russian // Spanish (Can get them both to an advanced level if I find the " need " for it) & I started learning French, because I'm going to go to a French UNI and I wanted a HeadStart compared to the other students, but my mom kind of shut me down and said why are you wasting your time learning a "language" when they're going to teach you that from scratch. Instead learn something actual (she was referring to programming). I mean yeah, I guess I agree with her, since I don't know anything for the "future" to work. But anyways in no way do I want a job in anything related to languages (Like a translator etc...)
I was 15-16, I worked as a logistics operator and was able to make $1600 in a month. But the market kind of died, so did the office, so I stopped, then I focused on my exams for UNI and I'm accepted now. I will be studying Marketing, but probs will switch to Business on my 2-nd year. I have plans to get a Master's degree as-well. Either the opposite of what I study (so If I get a bachelor's in marketing, I'll go for a master's in business or if I have enough finances to pay for it myself, I'll go for CS).
So now, after I've finished everything, School exams done, UNI has been applied // accepted to and I'm just " getting " into life I'm worried day and night about work. I feel like I genuinely don't know anything to find a work for or just in general don't know anything. And I know people say there is so so much time ahead of you, you're still young and you'll find it. But I don't want to waste a single second, since each second can be spent studying or even better working.
I am decent at forex trading; I am able to make decent profit (demo account obviously) and have general knowledge of the market and know how it works basically. Of course there is still much to learn, like anyone in any field. My dad works as a trader as-well. See this is something that I enjoy, but I can't have this as a " main " job. It will be something on the side, and I need to have another MAIN source of income to be able to grow my account and get decent profit. Anyways as I mentioned that 1.6k I've got saved, I'm going to be opening an account at like $300 and I can see me making decent money from it, but still as I said that's not going to be a main " field" or "job" I don't know the word.
That's basically all that I "know" or am good at.
I talk to my mom, asking her to help // guide me. She keeps on saying programming, go become a programmer (saying this person makes tons, that person pays for her whole family and has tons of money for himself etc...). I know programming is an amazing job, mostly pay-wise, but I just don't enjoy it. I ask her to give me an idea for something else, I don't enjoy this and sarcastically she says go become a barber or a server or something. It's quite irritating because my sister has just finished her master's degree (she's 22) and makes good money, and she looks " down " at me, treats me like she's "higher?", ha-ha.
So currently, for the past week I've been studying programming (Python to be exact), and I guess I can see me finding a junior position during August or September probably. But as I mentioned, I don't really enjoy this. It's just not my thing I guess, writing stuff on and on and on all day is eh... to me.
I'm a person who genuinely loves working, just need guidance. Also, another reason why I'm so EAGER to just " jump" into life and start ACTUAL work, is because I want to get myself a car (fully paid by me) and much more stuff on my bucket list.
Sorry if this is stupidly long and half of this is just " pointless " but I guess I'm ranting and trying to get advice.
Thank you if you read all of this,
Kindly put down thoughts!
Best Regards.
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2024.05.21 20:43 CDown01 J.'s Journals: The Lieutenant

Previous Entry
Writing these things has made me realize how different I sound these days. Back when all this started I’m not sure I even spoke English and I certainly didn’t speak like I do now but to be honest, I don’t remember. Trying to recall things to write has made me realize exactly how many little things I’ve forgotten over the years. The sights, the sounds, all those fade into the background of most events.
Even something as visceral as Archer’s basement still takes me a while to recall clearly. I wonder if it’s more than just my long life, we do age after all. I mentioned before that sunlight is not deadly to vampires like myself but very unpleasant, that and it makes us more normal. In the sun I won’t be as strong as I would be in the dark and by my assessment I age in the sun as well. Not any faster than a normal person but I do age, its why I don’t still look like that little boy stuck in Paris anymore.
I did spend quite some time in Paris before I left or rather, escaped. I’m not sure I ever would have left if not for the war. I didn’t have many friends there save for other… I’m not sure what to call them… entities? Whatever you want to cal it I had some friends in the more supernatural parts of the city. A vampire named Belle had become a sort of mother figure to me over the years spent there.
I met her by chance one night as I sated myself in an alley. I was ready to fight but she just laughed and flashed her own fangs at me, ridiculing me for being so careless. It was under her wing where I learned everything I know now about vampires. It’s where I realized not all vampires endure sunlight as well as I do, if anything that one trait is what’s most unique about me according to her. But thats not the story I want to tell on these pages tonight. I want to tell the story of lieutenant Marsh and the real beginnings of the organization that would become Chimera.
When war came to Paris that summer I was unprepared. I never expected the war to spiral out of hand so quickly or for it to force me out of my home. I was with Belle and a few more of her friends whose names escape me waiting out the worst of it and hoping things would blow over in the city soon. Obviously we were completely misguided, it was that sense of invulnerability again just the same as when I was a boy. The world was our playground and nothing could hurt us. It didn’t help that in some ways I really was invulnerable and it went straight to my head.
Only flashes of my memory from that day remain. I remember the nazi soldier kicking in the door and firing at Belle’s friends. I remember the screaming that abruptly ended in a single gunshot. I remember the trail of blood leading to her friends body where it lay staked to the ground in the sun. We heal fast, not instantly but much faster than a human. Put us in sunlight though, and we’re just as fragile as a normal person. It was the first time I’d seen someone with abilities like ours die and it made me feel mortal again for the first time in decades.
The rest of the day is a disjointed blur. Belle and I fled the city, I blank out on the specifics of it but we made it out with some difficulty. After that we hunkered down for the night in a rickety old shack. I remember wanting to push on through the day but Belle protested, she didn’t deal with the sun as well as I did. When night finally fell we fled to the coast and managed to catch a ship heading towards the United States.
The trip was unpleasant to say the least, neither of us made good stowaways. We weren’t living life in the lap of luxury before by any means but we lived comfortably. This was a far cry from what we were used to in Paris and the welcome we received was even worse. Apparently fleeing for your own survival is a crime, both of us were separated and sent to prison on our arrival to the states for stowing away on the ship.
That was the last time I ever saw Belle, I get letters from her every now and then but I haven’t seen her in person since. She does well for herself, works in D.C. as a sort of handler for the supernatural. Regrettably she does work with Chimera, says they have the best interests at heart for the supernatural but she doesn’t see what I see out here. She doesn’t know the part I played in its creation, what it really stood for in the beginning. Chimera tends to kill first these days rather than actually try to help or give the supernatural some kind of place in the world. I think thats why I haven’t been to visit her, I just don’t want to argue with a friend as old as her. Funnily enough I don’t think anyone knows she’s a vampire. I doubt they’d take that very well, she’d probably lose her position. They must have suspicions though because theres no way she’d be able to get letters to me without Baelen knowing about it. Every few months they keep showing up though and I always make sure to write her back.
Anyways I’m getting off topic, back to my story. I was in prison for months until an offer came my way, serve the rest of my sentence or enlist in the army and be a free man when I came back, if I came back. Of course I took the offer, I didn’t realize how suspicious that deal sounded at the time but it actually played out exactly as they said. I also didn’t have much of a choice in the matter either. It was hard to get my hands on any blood when I was almost constantly under watch and I could feel the effects it was having on me. I figured it would be best to get a change of scenery.
The next week I was off to training then not long after, we shipped out to the trenches and met the commander of the platoon I’d been assigned to. That’s the first time I met Lieutenant Johnson Marsh and what a man he was. That first day I was convinced I’d never see a smile ever again, the trenches were a horrible depressing place. But there Marsh was, laughing and smiling and just generally enjoying life with the rest of the platoon. He was either crazy or stupid, thats what my first thoughts about him were. I remember those clearly even today but I couldn’t have been more wrong. If anything he may have turned out to be one of the smartest men I ever knew.
The first few weeks were spent holding our position from the germans. It was brutal but I found I was a decent shot with the rifle I was given. Marsh on the other hand spent those weeks barking orders at us and keeping us in line. He never used a rifle like most of the soldiers used. Instead he kept a Beretta m9 with him at all times. That weapon was the only one I ever saw him use. I remember the name only because he was so found of explaining everything there was to know about the gun to me whenever I questioned him about it. You could immediately recognize the pistol as his by its strange grip. One side of it had a picture of an idyllic scene of a manor house in the middle of a sprawling field. The other had a painting of a woman, his wife I’d guess but he never actually told me if that was there case. He seemed to spend the nights staring with longing at each side of the artistic grip.
I’d never really had a family, even with Belle I’d always felt like I was a bit of an outsider. There was so much I didn’t know about how normal people lived. Even though I’d had friends in Paris we were always kind of hidden away in our own personal corner. There was this separation between us and normal life, even between the other supernaturals in the area.
Here I felt like I was part of something though. Sure I was still lost but so was everyone else, we could be lost together and Marsh would always set us straight in the end. There was something about the man, some piece of him that just understood what we were all going through. He expected a lot from us but he was never unreasonable and several times even argued with command on our behalf when ridiculous orders came our way. I actually wanted to serve with him. The rest of the platoon wasn’t bad but they’d all been given the same deal as me. They were all just there to get out of prison. I’m still not sure what Marsh’s story was, he always kept that to himself but any of us would’ve taken a bullet for that man.
Our first real assignment came maybe three months into my period of indentured service. Our platoon was tasked with rescuing a captured American scientist and capturing a German scientist. The scientists in question were Frank Smith and Stein Hoffman and no, the irony of those names is not lost on me, fits the two of them though. I’m sure doctor Frankenstein wishes he was successful as those two. But before those orders could be acted on we had to overtake a German trench surrounding the compound they were staying in.
That fight was bloody and we lost several good men in the chaos. At one point a trench gun was shoved into my arms and I launched myself into the German trench. I wouldn’t be surprised if ghost stories are still passed around of what I did that day. After I made my way over and into the German trench I lashed out with all I had. Moving with superhuman speed and lashing out with both the bayonet affixed to my gun and my fangs, I fell upon the Germans. They stood little chance as I tore into them and all by my lonesome I ensured we’d face no more resistance.
Marsh was the first over into the now silent trench, I’m glad it was him because I’m not sure anyone else would’ve understood like him. I was holding the German officer to the trench wall, fangs buried in his neck as I fed when I heard footsteps behind me. I dropped him and turned to see Marsh staring questioningly at me. I must’ve been a sight to see, blood dripping from my mouth and covering my bullet torn uniform. Marsh steadied himself for a moment and shouted back to the rest of the platoon,
“Boys hold up a second! Just get down and stay up there a minute won’tcha!”
All of a sudden he took a step forward and a well mannered grin took its usual place on his lips.
“Though You didn’t care for sauerkraut J.?”
The joke stunned me, I fully expected him to shoot me then and there, put me down like the abomination I must’ve looked like to him.
“Lieutenant I…”
But Marsh raised his hands to cut me off.
“Command’d probably want me to shoot’cha, hell maybe I aught’a but I don’t think it’d be right. You seem decent, little odd sure but you’ve got heart, I see it in the way you look out for the boys. Plus I always figured there was some’n off about you. The way you stay out’a the light always seem a little faster and stronger than anyone got the right to be just didn’t figure it’d be…. That.”
Marsh told me pointing to the punctures in the officers neck.
“Thank you lieutenant, Could we keep this between us though sir?”
“Drop the formalities J. Jesus! We’re all friends here.”
“I just don’t want the others to know, they may not be as understanding as you.”
“No can do, but you can tell em’ yourself. Alright men, get on down here!”
In all my years I’d never had to explain myself to anyone up until that point. I guess that day my number was up but I never knew just how understanding people, normal people could be. I’d always lived around the supernatural in Paris, didn’t interact much with the normal people I saw in the streets every day, I didn’t have to. I’d always assumed there was a reason for that but in the moment I realized there wasn’t, not really. I’d just avoided normal people because I feared what they’d think if it came out that I wasn’t like them.
Of course There were some of the men that objected to… what I was. Most of them took after Marsh though. They didn’t really care what I was, I’d proven to them I was a good person and thats all that mattered. I just wish they’d been right about me back then because the truth was I still hadn’t learned to care, not really. Even the ones who objected came around eventually and that night Marsh finally came clean to me about why exactly he was so accepting.
According to him he’d always assumed there was more out there, things beyond human that lived on the fringes of society. Even he always thought he sounded crazy. I was the proof he needed to convince himself he wasn’t. Marsh also told me what we were really doing with the scientists. Both Frank and Stein researched the supernatural, their projects were as secret as secret could be. Marsh’s interests and theories, as personal as he tried to keep them showed up in his file somewhere. The higher ups had handpicked him for this mission because of it. The official story was that Frank had been captured but in reality he defected to further his own research with a like minded individual. Our mission was really to force Frank back into the fold and take Stein along with him.
The more he talked the more I could tell his heart was fully committed to this mission and the final assault tomorrow. I’d never seen someone so… alive. In my extremely long life I don’t think Id ever felt that kind of conviction myself. So I promised him I’d have his back tomorrow no matter what.
Morning broke and with it our assault began. Intel on the German defenses was shoddy at best but we never expected what we’d actually run into. At least three times our number acted as guards so a distraction was in order to give us a window of entry. A few of the men would handle the distraction “however they saw fit” to quote Marsh. Then Marsh and I would make our way into the compound itself and the rest of the platoon would cover us.
For what its worth most of the plan went off without a hitch. A tremendous explosion signaled Marsh and I to press the advantage and rush the confused soldiers that lay in front of us. Some actually turned and ran from me, apparently word of my stunt in the trenches yesterday had spread quickly. The rest of the platoon followed behind us but then our luck ran out with the roar of an engine.
An honest to god panzer tank rolled out of a tunnel we hadn’t seen that ran under the compound and turned its barrel towards us. I almost didn’t hear the blast from how slow time seemed to move. But move it did as the explosion of the shell’s impact scattered bodies left and right. The shell impacted behind us but the sheer force of the blast threw Marsh and I to the ground, knocking us unconscious.
When I slowly came to my eyes couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A man dressed in red priestly robes with a matching red top hat was walking between the bodies. When he approached one that groaned out with agony he’d kneel down and whisper things I couldn’t hear to them, after that he’d snap his fingers. sometimes the person he was talking with would disappear other times they would fall silent and sometimes it didn’t appear that anything happened at all.
Just the sight of the man terrified me and I wasn’t sure why. It was an instinctual reaction, the second I lay eyes on him I froze up and ice cold fear crept its way up my spine. When people accuse me of being the devil this man is who I think of. Even today I’m not sure what it is he does or why. What I do know is that he never looks the same. I’ve seen him appear as male, female, even as an animal on a few occasions but I can always tell. The second I’m near him no matter what he looks like the same old feeling comes over me.
Once my vision had finally focused in on the man he seemed to notice without ever looking at me. I blinked and suddenly he was there, kneeling over me.
“Would you like to live.”
He rasped down at me with a voice that seemed to boom around me no matter how quiet it must’ve actually been. I felt like a child again, staring at Archer for the first time. I’d never really had to fear death before but here I was, sure I was about to meet my end right here. In all honestly I wasn’t injured all that bad, I probably could’ve survived with or without this man help. But something told me that if I said no he’d make sure I would die right here.
“Ye…y… yes”
I stuttered out, barley able to form the words through the pain that stabbed throughout my body.
“You will be my instrument for one night at a time of me choosing.”
The man replied. I stayed silent as I stared into his eyes, trying to determine if the sunglasses he wore were tinted or if his eyes really did burn with an infernal red light. The man cocked his head as if waiting for a response to his question. I’m not sure if question was the right word though, there wasn’t much of a choice for me.
Looking back there was always a choice, maybe I could’ve survived on my own merits, found another way. In the years to come I’d wish I just said no, even if it would’ve cost me my life. But thats not what happened. I nodded and the deal maker snapped his fingers. As soon as he had dark clouds flooded the sky and blocked out the sun, allowing my body to begin repairing itself. The man moved on to where Marsh’s body lay and probably made him the same deal as I felt my body healing. Despite that, my consciousness faded again as I strained to try and hear what the man would say to Marsh.
We never actually discussed the man at all. Not then and not in the years since. Maybe that was all an unspoken part of Marsh’s deal. Maybe both of us just wished that man was nothing more than a waking dream, a vivid hallucination. Whatever the case neither of us ever mentioned that man to each other.
The next time I woke up I was chained to a table next to Marsh. We had been captured and brought before the very scientists we were here to apprehend. There were guards around but they all seemed to be waiting for some kind of order. I was certainly surprised when that order came in perfect English, even more surprised when the order was to let us down so we could talk.
Frank and Stein ended up being quite reasonable people. The two let us stay in relative comfort in the compound as long as we agreed to stay and leave them to their work. That was all the convincing it took for me. I understand that the men I’d served with were all dead and that these two were in some way responsible. Maybe that should’ve bothered me more, today it certainly would’ve. Back then I didn’t think the same way, they accepted me for what I was but only briefly, only out of respect for Marsh. What did the lives of people I’d known for so short a time really matter? Writing this now just makes me realize how cold I was before, I didn’t care for anything beyond myself. I’d made no efforts to find Belle since we were separated and how long had I known her, 100 years, more? I may have pretended I cared but when push came to shove I simply tried to make sure I survived.
Marsh wasn’t as cold as me, in fact he almost immediately reached for where his pistol should’ve been when he was unchained. It took Frank, Stein, and myself weeks to convince him that helping would be the right decision. He didn’t like it at first but little by little I think the scientists grew on him. The guards I’d seen our first day here seemed to thin out the longer we stayed. Wether that was a gesture of trust or simply because they were needed for more important duties I don’t know but it certainly eased Marsh’s mind.
I merely observed the scientists most of the time until Stein asked me for a sample of my blood. It didn’t surprise me that he knew what I was but for obvious reasons I was hesitant to give it to him, especially considering what I’d seen so called doctors do with vampire blood. Eventually he wore me down and I gave let him take a sample just to shut him up. After that I became more involved in their research though not by choice. They had me showcasing my abilities and tested the effects of sunlight on my blood. On a few rare occasions Stein even injected it into other prisoners that were brought in, something I put a stop to very quickly. T
hat sample of blood is why Frank and Stein are still around today. Somehow they managed to isolate whatever part of my DNA allows me to age so much slower than a normal person. They took that and spliced it into their own DNA against my recommendations. The crazy thing was it actually worked. Sure they had a newfound appreciation for rare steaks but beyond that I didn’t notice any of the effects that combining vampire DNA with your own would usually have.
As Marsh and I assisted the scientist’s research however we could we both came to the realization that they needed each other to function. Stein lacked a moral compass and was prone to suggest unethical or risky procedures, sometimes going so far as to carry them out without informing Frank. Frank on the other hand preferred caution in everything he did and sometimes I noticed him personally taking and shredding requests Stein had written for test subjects, hazardous materials, or samples from supernatural entities. The two kept a very delicate dance of checks and balances. Stein ever the daring mad scientist and Frank always playing the role of overly cautious genius.
Marsh and Frank got along extremely well near the end. The two would be up at all hours of the night as Frank explained what kind of things really existed in the world. Marsh always shared these ideas of a world where the supernatural and the normal could live together and I think Frank shared that vision. It wasn’t possible, still isn’t but treating the supernatural as something other than monsters couldn’t possibly be a bad thing. I think thats where the idea of the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs really came from, those talks Marsh had with anyone who would listen.
Overtime one of our favorite conversations was what we would do when the war was over and we could leave this compound. Stein wasn’t sure he would, if his research wasn’t going to a man who’d simply use it to cause more conflict he wouldn’t mind staying. Frank wanted to return home, if that was even possible and he asked if Stein would join him. Those two had also become close friends through our months in the lab. That checks and balances relationship they had made them basically inseparable. Marsh’s answer surprised me though, he said he wanted to get out of the military and start a program, something to help the supernatural live closer to normal lives. At least keep tabs on them so that the quality of their lives might improve. I was stunned, I couldn’t believe he’d throw his career away just to chase this pipe dream of his. I didn’t even know Marsh was concerned with that kind of thing. I didn’t have an answer of my own so I said I’d join Marsh and help with this program idea of his. Actually, even Frank and Stein seemed to agree with Marsh’s way of thinking. Little did we know the war would end less than a month after our talk and we’d all get the chance to actually put Marsh’s little idea to the test.
Once the Americans had come and discovered the compound pretty much abandoned aside from us we were all taken prisoner and shipped back to America. We were all interrogated and they either heard what they wanted to hear, or decided anyone we’d talk to about our experiences would assume we were just crazy. We were released back into society under constant surveillance. They even gave us a sizable home in D.C., it was certainly bugged to its core but thats exactly what we wanted.
Through the next year we used Frank and Steins knowledge and my supernatural nature to track down entities all over the country. We made sure that everything was discussed and planned out in the house. That way however was listening knew exactly what we were doing and how successful it was. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows though, some entities would rather we didn’t know about them. Others were naturally aggressive but some we were actually able to help.
Our escapades as a group of four didn’t last much past the first year. Mostly because our master plan of using the bugs worked perfectly. Ol’ uncle Sam had been listening in and wanted his chance at calling the shots but it meant we became a legitimate organization, the BSA. Technically the acronym was already taken but no one ever complained and Marsh never came up with anything better.
We spent 4 years doing everything we could to improve the lives of supernatural beings everywhere. Not every one of our endeavors was a success but we did some good in the world. One such project was blood banks for vampires. While the blood that gets donated is used for transfusions and the like some was put into cold storage for the BSA. That got distributed to vampires who had come to an agreement with us to stop hunting humans for blood. Some vampires were even selected for jobs at these blood banks, under the supervision of BSA agents of course.
The more human supernaturals like werewolves, vampires, and succubi even used us to find jobs in the world. We made in roads for the supernatural in daily life because of it. Werewolves would use their strength for government construction. Vampire’s long lives made them excellent archivists or history teachers because they actually been there for those events. A succubus’s ability to understand and control someones emotions and reactions made them excellent therapists and conflict deescalation specialists. Those are just some of the fields we managed to get the supernatural involved in. While they usually had to hide their natural they were wildly successful.
Everything went well until that fourth year when I first met Baelen. He was headstrong from the beginning, the powers that be were grooming him for leadership. He was everything they wanted, he followed orders and didn’t question things to much. In short, he was the perfect solution to the inconvenience the four of us caused running the organization as we saw fit. But baleen had a mean streak, he didn’t want to protect the supernatural so much as he wanted to put them in their place. Unfortunately a lot of the research we provided had scared pretty much everyone above us who had never even entertained the idea of the supernatural until now. That meant Baelen’s ideas of monitoring and segregating the supernatural population were popular. So popular that suggesting culling their numbers to keep them in check and under the thumb of the BSA was an idea they actually entertained. That sentiment caught on and our orders became more and more militant.
Every time we disregarded them to do things the way we had envisioned the consequence grew steeper. Eventually Frank, Stein, Marsh, and I just couldn’t stand to see what our BSA had become so we left. We couldn’t do anything else to stop what was coming from the inside, no point in going down with the ship.
After that Baelen quickly ended up heading the whole operation. He still took orders directly from government officials and when the BSA became part of homeland security it became Chimera division. Why they chose such a stupid name I’ll never know but the organization was a shadow of its former self. Before we looked out for the supernatural, tried to help. Under Baelen Chimera just exists to monitor the supernatural and “correct” any issues uncle Sam decides to have with them. They’re glorified enforcers that don’t give a damn how the supernatural actually have it. That’s not to say some good people don’t work for them, people like Belle and even Marsh’s own daughter as far as I’m aware.
It sickens me to think I was a part of it though, for all the good we did maybe it would’ve been better if Johnson Marsh’s pipe dream would’ve stayed just that. I can do a lot but I can’t change the past so I guess we’ll never know. A while ago I heard that something had happened in a little nowhere town out in New Mexico. Pretty much dropped off the face of the Earth. The only reason I even heard about it was through Belle’s letters. Apparently Chimera had to do some huge cover up job and decided it was better if the town just never existed. Maybe I should go myself and see if I can’t piece what happened together. Could be that someone else out there has it in for Chimera and is a whole lot more direct about it than me. I’m just imaging it was some runaway experiment Frank and Stein got up to. I wonder where those two ended up, I’ll have to check up on them sometime. This journal writing is digging up a lot of memories for me but thats probably a good thing. Write them down before I forget again. I think that’ll be all for today then, why do I keep addressing these like someone’s reading them? Not much point to that is there?
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2024.05.21 20:42 CDown01 J.'s Journals: The Lieutenant

Previous Entry
Writing these things has made me realize how different I sound these days. Back when all this started I’m not sure I even spoke English and I certainly didn’t speak like I do now but to be honest, I don’t remember. Trying to recall things to write has made me realize exactly how many little things I’ve forgotten over the years. The sights, the sounds, all those fade into the background of most events.
Even something as visceral as Archer’s basement still takes me a while to recall clearly. I wonder if it’s more than just my long life, we do age after all. I mentioned before that sunlight is not deadly to vampires like myself but very unpleasant, that and it makes us more normal. In the sun I won’t be as strong as I would be in the dark and by my assessment I age in the sun as well. Not any faster than a normal person but I do age, its why I don’t still look like that little boy stuck in Paris anymore.
I did spend quite some time in Paris before I left or rather, escaped. I’m not sure I ever would have left if not for the war. I didn’t have many friends there save for other… I’m not sure what to call them… entities? Whatever you want to cal it I had some friends in the more supernatural parts of the city. A vampire named Belle had become a sort of mother figure to me over the years spent there.
I met her by chance one night as I sated myself in an alley. I was ready to fight but she just laughed and flashed her own fangs at me, ridiculing me for being so careless. It was under her wing where I learned everything I know now about vampires. It’s where I realized not all vampires endure sunlight as well as I do, if anything that one trait is what’s most unique about me according to her. But thats not the story I want to tell on these pages tonight. I want to tell the story of lieutenant Marsh and the real beginnings of the organization that would become Chimera.
When war came to Paris that summer I was unprepared. I never expected the war to spiral out of hand so quickly or for it to force me out of my home. I was with Belle and a few more of her friends whose names escape me waiting out the worst of it and hoping things would blow over in the city soon. Obviously we were completely misguided, it was that sense of invulnerability again just the same as when I was a boy. The world was our playground and nothing could hurt us. It didn’t help that in some ways I really was invulnerable and it went straight to my head.
Only flashes of my memory from that day remain. I remember the nazi soldier kicking in the door and firing at Belle’s friends. I remember the screaming that abruptly ended in a single gunshot. I remember the trail of blood leading to her friends body where it lay staked to the ground in the sun. We heal fast, not instantly but much faster than a human. Put us in sunlight though, and we’re just as fragile as a normal person. It was the first time I’d seen someone with abilities like ours die and it made me feel mortal again for the first time in decades.
The rest of the day is a disjointed blur. Belle and I fled the city, I blank out on the specifics of it but we made it out with some difficulty. After that we hunkered down for the night in a rickety old shack. I remember wanting to push on through the day but Belle protested, she didn’t deal with the sun as well as I did. When night finally fell we fled to the coast and managed to catch a ship heading towards the United States.
The trip was unpleasant to say the least, neither of us made good stowaways. We weren’t living life in the lap of luxury before by any means but we lived comfortably. This was a far cry from what we were used to in Paris and the welcome we received was even worse. Apparently fleeing for your own survival is a crime, both of us were separated and sent to prison on our arrival to the states for stowing away on the ship.
That was the last time I ever saw Belle, I get letters from her every now and then but I haven’t seen her in person since. She does well for herself, works in D.C. as a sort of handler for the supernatural. Regrettably she does work with Chimera, says they have the best interests at heart for the supernatural but she doesn’t see what I see out here. She doesn’t know the part I played in its creation, what it really stood for in the beginning. Chimera tends to kill first these days rather than actually try to help or give the supernatural some kind of place in the world. I think thats why I haven’t been to visit her, I just don’t want to argue with a friend as old as her. Funnily enough I don’t think anyone knows she’s a vampire. I doubt they’d take that very well, she’d probably lose her position. They must have suspicions though because theres no way she’d be able to get letters to me without Baelen knowing about it. Every few months they keep showing up though and I always make sure to write her back.
Anyways I’m getting off topic, back to my story. I was in prison for months until an offer came my way, serve the rest of my sentence or enlist in the army and be a free man when I came back, if I came back. Of course I took the offer, I didn’t realize how suspicious that deal sounded at the time but it actually played out exactly as they said. I also didn’t have much of a choice in the matter either. It was hard to get my hands on any blood when I was almost constantly under watch and I could feel the effects it was having on me. I figured it would be best to get a change of scenery.
The next week I was off to training then not long after, we shipped out to the trenches and met the commander of the platoon I’d been assigned to. That’s the first time I met Lieutenant Johnson Marsh and what a man he was. That first day I was convinced I’d never see a smile ever again, the trenches were a horrible depressing place. But there Marsh was, laughing and smiling and just generally enjoying life with the rest of the platoon. He was either crazy or stupid, thats what my first thoughts about him were. I remember those clearly even today but I couldn’t have been more wrong. If anything he may have turned out to be one of the smartest men I ever knew.
The first few weeks were spent holding our position from the germans. It was brutal but I found I was a decent shot with the rifle I was given. Marsh on the other hand spent those weeks barking orders at us and keeping us in line. He never used a rifle like most of the soldiers used. Instead he kept a Beretta m9 with him at all times. That weapon was the only one I ever saw him use. I remember the name only because he was so found of explaining everything there was to know about the gun to me whenever I questioned him about it. You could immediately recognize the pistol as his by its strange grip. One side of it had a picture of an idyllic scene of a manor house in the middle of a sprawling field. The other had a painting of a woman, his wife I’d guess but he never actually told me if that was there case. He seemed to spend the nights staring with longing at each side of the artistic grip.
I’d never really had a family, even with Belle I’d always felt like I was a bit of an outsider. There was so much I didn’t know about how normal people lived. Even though I’d had friends in Paris we were always kind of hidden away in our own personal corner. There was this separation between us and normal life, even between the other supernaturals in the area.
Here I felt like I was part of something though. Sure I was still lost but so was everyone else, we could be lost together and Marsh would always set us straight in the end. There was something about the man, some piece of him that just understood what we were all going through. He expected a lot from us but he was never unreasonable and several times even argued with command on our behalf when ridiculous orders came our way. I actually wanted to serve with him. The rest of the platoon wasn’t bad but they’d all been given the same deal as me. They were all just there to get out of prison. I’m still not sure what Marsh’s story was, he always kept that to himself but any of us would’ve taken a bullet for that man.
Our first real assignment came maybe three months into my period of indentured service. Our platoon was tasked with rescuing a captured American scientist and capturing a German scientist. The scientists in question were Frank Smith and Stein Hoffman and no, the irony of those names is not lost on me, fits the two of them though. I’m sure doctor Frankenstein wishes he was successful as those two. But before those orders could be acted on we had to overtake a German trench surrounding the compound they were staying in.
That fight was bloody and we lost several good men in the chaos. At one point a trench gun was shoved into my arms and I launched myself into the German trench. I wouldn’t be surprised if ghost stories are still passed around of what I did that day. After I made my way over and into the German trench I lashed out with all I had. Moving with superhuman speed and lashing out with both the bayonet affixed to my gun and my fangs, I fell upon the Germans. They stood little chance as I tore into them and all by my lonesome I ensured we’d face no more resistance.
Marsh was the first over into the now silent trench, I’m glad it was him because I’m not sure anyone else would’ve understood like him. I was holding the German officer to the trench wall, fangs buried in his neck as I fed when I heard footsteps behind me. I dropped him and turned to see Marsh staring questioningly at me. I must’ve been a sight to see, blood dripping from my mouth and covering my bullet torn uniform. Marsh steadied himself for a moment and shouted back to the rest of the platoon,
“Boys hold up a second! Just get down and stay up there a minute won’tcha!”
All of a sudden he took a step forward and a well mannered grin took its usual place on his lips.
“Though You didn’t care for sauerkraut J.?”
The joke stunned me, I fully expected him to shoot me then and there, put me down like the abomination I must’ve looked like to him.
“Lieutenant I…”
But Marsh raised his hands to cut me off.
“Command’d probably want me to shoot’cha, hell maybe I aught’a but I don’t think it’d be right. You seem decent, little odd sure but you’ve got heart, I see it in the way you look out for the boys. Plus I always figured there was some’n off about you. The way you stay out’a the light always seem a little faster and stronger than anyone got the right to be just didn’t figure it’d be…. That.”
Marsh told me pointing to the punctures in the officers neck.
“Thank you lieutenant, Could we keep this between us though sir?”
“Drop the formalities J. Jesus! We’re all friends here.”
“I just don’t want the others to know, they may not be as understanding as you.”
“No can do, but you can tell em’ yourself. Alright men, get on down here!”
In all my years I’d never had to explain myself to anyone up until that point. I guess that day my number was up but I never knew just how understanding people, normal people could be. I’d always lived around the supernatural in Paris, didn’t interact much with the normal people I saw in the streets every day, I didn’t have to. I’d always assumed there was a reason for that but in the moment I realized there wasn’t, not really. I’d just avoided normal people because I feared what they’d think if it came out that I wasn’t like them.
Of course There were some of the men that objected to… what I was. Most of them took after Marsh though. They didn’t really care what I was, I’d proven to them I was a good person and thats all that mattered. I just wish they’d been right about me back then because the truth was I still hadn’t learned to care, not really. Even the ones who objected came around eventually and that night Marsh finally came clean to me about why exactly he was so accepting.
According to him he’d always assumed there was more out there, things beyond human that lived on the fringes of society. Even he always thought he sounded crazy. I was the proof he needed to convince himself he wasn’t. Marsh also told me what we were really doing with the scientists. Both Frank and Stein researched the supernatural, their projects were as secret as secret could be. Marsh’s interests and theories, as personal as he tried to keep them showed up in his file somewhere. The higher ups had handpicked him for this mission because of it. The official story was that Frank had been captured but in reality he defected to further his own research with a like minded individual. Our mission was really to force Frank back into the fold and take Stein along with him.
The more he talked the more I could tell his heart was fully committed to this mission and the final assault tomorrow. I’d never seen someone so… alive. In my extremely long life I don’t think Id ever felt that kind of conviction myself. So I promised him I’d have his back tomorrow no matter what.
Morning broke and with it our assault began. Intel on the German defenses was shoddy at best but we never expected what we’d actually run into. At least three times our number acted as guards so a distraction was in order to give us a window of entry. A few of the men would handle the distraction “however they saw fit” to quote Marsh. Then Marsh and I would make our way into the compound itself and the rest of the platoon would cover us.
For what its worth most of the plan went off without a hitch. A tremendous explosion signaled Marsh and I to press the advantage and rush the confused soldiers that lay in front of us. Some actually turned and ran from me, apparently word of my stunt in the trenches yesterday had spread quickly. The rest of the platoon followed behind us but then our luck ran out with the roar of an engine.
An honest to god panzer tank rolled out of a tunnel we hadn’t seen that ran under the compound and turned its barrel towards us. I almost didn’t hear the blast from how slow time seemed to move. But move it did as the explosion of the shell’s impact scattered bodies left and right. The shell impacted behind us but the sheer force of the blast threw Marsh and I to the ground, knocking us unconscious.
When I slowly came to my eyes couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A man dressed in red priestly robes with a matching red top hat was walking between the bodies. When he approached one that groaned out with agony he’d kneel down and whisper things I couldn’t hear to them, after that he’d snap his fingers. sometimes the person he was talking with would disappear other times they would fall silent and sometimes it didn’t appear that anything happened at all.
Just the sight of the man terrified me and I wasn’t sure why. It was an instinctual reaction, the second I lay eyes on him I froze up and ice cold fear crept its way up my spine. When people accuse me of being the devil this man is who I think of. Even today I’m not sure what it is he does or why. What I do know is that he never looks the same. I’ve seen him appear as male, female, even as an animal on a few occasions but I can always tell. The second I’m near him no matter what he looks like the same old feeling comes over me.
Once my vision had finally focused in on the man he seemed to notice without ever looking at me. I blinked and suddenly he was there, kneeling over me.
“Would you like to live.”
He rasped down at me with a voice that seemed to boom around me no matter how quiet it must’ve actually been. I felt like a child again, staring at Archer for the first time. I’d never really had to fear death before but here I was, sure I was about to meet my end right here. In all honestly I wasn’t injured all that bad, I probably could’ve survived with or without this man help. But something told me that if I said no he’d make sure I would die right here.
“Ye…y… yes”
I stuttered out, barley able to form the words through the pain that stabbed throughout my body.
“You will be my instrument for one night at a time of me choosing.”
The man replied. I stayed silent as I stared into his eyes, trying to determine if the sunglasses he wore were tinted or if his eyes really did burn with an infernal red light. The man cocked his head as if waiting for a response to his question. I’m not sure if question was the right word though, there wasn’t much of a choice for me.
Looking back there was always a choice, maybe I could’ve survived on my own merits, found another way. In the years to come I’d wish I just said no, even if it would’ve cost me my life. But thats not what happened. I nodded and the deal maker snapped his fingers. As soon as he had dark clouds flooded the sky and blocked out the sun, allowing my body to begin repairing itself. The man moved on to where Marsh’s body lay and probably made him the same deal as I felt my body healing. Despite that, my consciousness faded again as I strained to try and hear what the man would say to Marsh.
We never actually discussed the man at all. Not then and not in the years since. Maybe that was all an unspoken part of Marsh’s deal. Maybe both of us just wished that man was nothing more than a waking dream, a vivid hallucination. Whatever the case neither of us ever mentioned that man to each other.
The next time I woke up I was chained to a table next to Marsh. We had been captured and brought before the very scientists we were here to apprehend. There were guards around but they all seemed to be waiting for some kind of order. I was certainly surprised when that order came in perfect English, even more surprised when the order was to let us down so we could talk.
Frank and Stein ended up being quite reasonable people. The two let us stay in relative comfort in the compound as long as we agreed to stay and leave them to their work. That was all the convincing it took for me. I understand that the men I’d served with were all dead and that these two were in some way responsible. Maybe that should’ve bothered me more, today it certainly would’ve. Back then I didn’t think the same way, they accepted me for what I was but only briefly, only out of respect for Marsh. What did the lives of people I’d known for so short a time really matter? Writing this now just makes me realize how cold I was before, I didn’t care for anything beyond myself. I’d made no efforts to find Belle since we were separated and how long had I known her, 100 years, more? I may have pretended I cared but when push came to shove I simply tried to make sure I survived.
Marsh wasn’t as cold as me, in fact he almost immediately reached for where his pistol should’ve been when he was unchained. It took Frank, Stein, and myself weeks to convince him that helping would be the right decision. He didn’t like it at first but little by little I think the scientists grew on him. The guards I’d seen our first day here seemed to thin out the longer we stayed. Wether that was a gesture of trust or simply because they were needed for more important duties I don’t know but it certainly eased Marsh’s mind.
I merely observed the scientists most of the time until Stein asked me for a sample of my blood. It didn’t surprise me that he knew what I was but for obvious reasons I was hesitant to give it to him, especially considering what I’d seen so called doctors do with vampire blood. Eventually he wore me down and I gave let him take a sample just to shut him up. After that I became more involved in their research though not by choice. They had me showcasing my abilities and tested the effects of sunlight on my blood. On a few rare occasions Stein even injected it into other prisoners that were brought in, something I put a stop to very quickly. T
hat sample of blood is why Frank and Stein are still around today. Somehow they managed to isolate whatever part of my DNA allows me to age so much slower than a normal person. They took that and spliced it into their own DNA against my recommendations. The crazy thing was it actually worked. Sure they had a newfound appreciation for rare steaks but beyond that I didn’t notice any of the effects that combining vampire DNA with your own would usually have.
As Marsh and I assisted the scientist’s research however we could we both came to the realization that they needed each other to function. Stein lacked a moral compass and was prone to suggest unethical or risky procedures, sometimes going so far as to carry them out without informing Frank. Frank on the other hand preferred caution in everything he did and sometimes I noticed him personally taking and shredding requests Stein had written for test subjects, hazardous materials, or samples from supernatural entities. The two kept a very delicate dance of checks and balances. Stein ever the daring mad scientist and Frank always playing the role of overly cautious genius.
Marsh and Frank got along extremely well near the end. The two would be up at all hours of the night as Frank explained what kind of things really existed in the world. Marsh always shared these ideas of a world where the supernatural and the normal could live together and I think Frank shared that vision. It wasn’t possible, still isn’t but treating the supernatural as something other than monsters couldn’t possibly be a bad thing. I think thats where the idea of the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs really came from, those talks Marsh had with anyone who would listen.
Overtime one of our favorite conversations was what we would do when the war was over and we could leave this compound. Stein wasn’t sure he would, if his research wasn’t going to a man who’d simply use it to cause more conflict he wouldn’t mind staying. Frank wanted to return home, if that was even possible and he asked if Stein would join him. Those two had also become close friends through our months in the lab. That checks and balances relationship they had made them basically inseparable. Marsh’s answer surprised me though, he said he wanted to get out of the military and start a program, something to help the supernatural live closer to normal lives. At least keep tabs on them so that the quality of their lives might improve. I was stunned, I couldn’t believe he’d throw his career away just to chase this pipe dream of his. I didn’t even know Marsh was concerned with that kind of thing. I didn’t have an answer of my own so I said I’d join Marsh and help with this program idea of his. Actually, even Frank and Stein seemed to agree with Marsh’s way of thinking. Little did we know the war would end less than a month after our talk and we’d all get the chance to actually put Marsh’s little idea to the test.
Once the Americans had come and discovered the compound pretty much abandoned aside from us we were all taken prisoner and shipped back to America. We were all interrogated and they either heard what they wanted to hear, or decided anyone we’d talk to about our experiences would assume we were just crazy. We were released back into society under constant surveillance. They even gave us a sizable home in D.C., it was certainly bugged to its core but thats exactly what we wanted.
Through the next year we used Frank and Steins knowledge and my supernatural nature to track down entities all over the country. We made sure that everything was discussed and planned out in the house. That way however was listening knew exactly what we were doing and how successful it was. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows though, some entities would rather we didn’t know about them. Others were naturally aggressive but some we were actually able to help.
Our escapades as a group of four didn’t last much past the first year. Mostly because our master plan of using the bugs worked perfectly. Ol’ uncle Sam had been listening in and wanted his chance at calling the shots but it meant we became a legitimate organization, the BSA. Technically the acronym was already taken but no one ever complained and Marsh never came up with anything better.
We spent 4 years doing everything we could to improve the lives of supernatural beings everywhere. Not every one of our endeavors was a success but we did some good in the world. One such project was blood banks for vampires. While the blood that gets donated is used for transfusions and the like some was put into cold storage for the BSA. That got distributed to vampires who had come to an agreement with us to stop hunting humans for blood. Some vampires were even selected for jobs at these blood banks, under the supervision of BSA agents of course.
The more human supernaturals like werewolves, vampires, and succubi even used us to find jobs in the world. We made in roads for the supernatural in daily life because of it. Werewolves would use their strength for government construction. Vampire’s long lives made them excellent archivists or history teachers because they actually been there for those events. A succubus’s ability to understand and control someones emotions and reactions made them excellent therapists and conflict deescalation specialists. Those are just some of the fields we managed to get the supernatural involved in. While they usually had to hide their natural they were wildly successful.
Everything went well until that fourth year when I first met Baelen. He was headstrong from the beginning, the powers that be were grooming him for leadership. He was everything they wanted, he followed orders and didn’t question things to much. In short, he was the perfect solution to the inconvenience the four of us caused running the organization as we saw fit. But baleen had a mean streak, he didn’t want to protect the supernatural so much as he wanted to put them in their place. Unfortunately a lot of the research we provided had scared pretty much everyone above us who had never even entertained the idea of the supernatural until now. That meant Baelen’s ideas of monitoring and segregating the supernatural population were popular. So popular that suggesting culling their numbers to keep them in check and under the thumb of the BSA was an idea they actually entertained. That sentiment caught on and our orders became more and more militant.
Every time we disregarded them to do things the way we had envisioned the consequence grew steeper. Eventually Frank, Stein, Marsh, and I just couldn’t stand to see what our BSA had become so we left. We couldn’t do anything else to stop what was coming from the inside, no point in going down with the ship.
After that Baelen quickly ended up heading the whole operation. He still took orders directly from government officials and when the BSA became part of homeland security it became Chimera division. Why they chose such a stupid name I’ll never know but the organization was a shadow of its former self. Before we looked out for the supernatural, tried to help. Under Baelen Chimera just exists to monitor the supernatural and “correct” any issues uncle Sam decides to have with them. They’re glorified enforcers that don’t give a damn how the supernatural actually have it. That’s not to say some good people don’t work for them, people like Belle and even Marsh’s own daughter as far as I’m aware.
It sickens me to think I was a part of it though, for all the good we did maybe it would’ve been better if Johnson Marsh’s pipe dream would’ve stayed just that. I can do a lot but I can’t change the past so I guess we’ll never know. A while ago I heard that something had happened in a little nowhere town out in New Mexico. Pretty much dropped off the face of the Earth. The only reason I even heard about it was through Belle’s letters. Apparently Chimera had to do some huge cover up job and decided it was better if the town just never existed. Maybe I should go myself and see if I can’t piece what happened together. Could be that someone else out there has it in for Chimera and is a whole lot more direct about it than me. I’m just imaging it was some runaway experiment Frank and Stein got up to. I wonder where those two ended up, I’ll have to check up on them sometime. This journal writing is digging up a lot of memories for me but thats probably a good thing. Write them down before I forget again. I think that’ll be all for today then, why do I keep addressing these like someone’s reading them? Not much point to that is there?
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2024.05.21 20:40 CDown01 J.'s Journals: The Lieutenant

Previous Entry
Writing these things has made me realize how different I sound these days. Back when all this started I’m not sure I even spoke English and I certainly didn’t speak like I do now but to be honest, I don’t remember. Trying to recall things to write has made me realize exactly how many little things I’ve forgotten over the years. The sights, the sounds, all those fade into the background of most events.
Even something as visceral as Archer’s basement still takes me a while to recall clearly. I wonder if it’s more than just my long life, we do age after all. I mentioned before that sunlight is not deadly to vampires like myself but very unpleasant, that and it makes us more normal. In the sun I won’t be as strong as I would be in the dark and by my assessment I age in the sun as well. Not any faster than a normal person but I do age, its why I don’t still look like that little boy stuck in Paris anymore.
I did spend quite some time in Paris before I left or rather, escaped. I’m not sure I ever would have left if not for the war. I didn’t have many friends there save for other… I’m not sure what to call them… entities? Whatever you want to cal it I had some friends in the more supernatural parts of the city. A vampire named Belle had become a sort of mother figure to me over the years spent there.
I met her by chance one night as I sated myself in an alley. I was ready to fight but she just laughed and flashed her own fangs at me, ridiculing me for being so careless. It was under her wing where I learned everything I know now about vampires. It’s where I realized not all vampires endure sunlight as well as I do, if anything that one trait is what’s most unique about me according to her. But thats not the story I want to tell on these pages tonight. I want to tell the story of lieutenant Marsh and the real beginnings of the organization that would become Chimera.
When war came to Paris that summer I was unprepared. I never expected the war to spiral out of hand so quickly or for it to force me out of my home. I was with Belle and a few more of her friends whose names escape me waiting out the worst of it and hoping things would blow over in the city soon. Obviously we were completely misguided, it was that sense of invulnerability again just the same as when I was a boy. The world was our playground and nothing could hurt us. It didn’t help that in some ways I really was invulnerable and it went straight to my head.
Only flashes of my memory from that day remain. I remember the nazi soldier kicking in the door and firing at Belle’s friends. I remember the screaming that abruptly ended in a single gunshot. I remember the trail of blood leading to her friends body where it lay staked to the ground in the sun. We heal fast, not instantly but much faster than a human. Put us in sunlight though, and we’re just as fragile as a normal person. It was the first time I’d seen someone with abilities like ours die and it made me feel mortal again for the first time in decades.
The rest of the day is a disjointed blur. Belle and I fled the city, I blank out on the specifics of it but we made it out with some difficulty. After that we hunkered down for the night in a rickety old shack. I remember wanting to push on through the day but Belle protested, she didn’t deal with the sun as well as I did. When night finally fell we fled to the coast and managed to catch a ship heading towards the United States.
The trip was unpleasant to say the least, neither of us made good stowaways. We weren’t living life in the lap of luxury before by any means but we lived comfortably. This was a far cry from what we were used to in Paris and the welcome we received was even worse. Apparently fleeing for your own survival is a crime, both of us were separated and sent to prison on our arrival to the states for stowing away on the ship.
That was the last time I ever saw Belle, I get letters from her every now and then but I haven’t seen her in person since. She does well for herself, works in D.C. as a sort of handler for the supernatural. Regrettably she does work with Chimera, says they have the best interests at heart for the supernatural but she doesn’t see what I see out here. She doesn’t know the part I played in its creation, what it really stood for in the beginning. Chimera tends to kill first these days rather than actually try to help or give the supernatural some kind of place in the world. I think thats why I haven’t been to visit her, I just don’t want to argue with a friend as old as her. Funnily enough I don’t think anyone knows she’s a vampire. I doubt they’d take that very well, she’d probably lose her position. They must have suspicions though because theres no way she’d be able to get letters to me without Baelen knowing about it. Every few months they keep showing up though and I always make sure to write her back.
Anyways I’m getting off topic, back to my story. I was in prison for months until an offer came my way, serve the rest of my sentence or enlist in the army and be a free man when I came back, if I came back. Of course I took the offer, I didn’t realize how suspicious that deal sounded at the time but it actually played out exactly as they said. I also didn’t have much of a choice in the matter either. It was hard to get my hands on any blood when I was almost constantly under watch and I could feel the effects it was having on me. I figured it would be best to get a change of scenery.
The next week I was off to training then not long after, we shipped out to the trenches and met the commander of the platoon I’d been assigned to. That’s the first time I met Lieutenant Johnson Marsh and what a man he was. That first day I was convinced I’d never see a smile ever again, the trenches were a horrible depressing place. But there Marsh was, laughing and smiling and just generally enjoying life with the rest of the platoon. He was either crazy or stupid, thats what my first thoughts about him were. I remember those clearly even today but I couldn’t have been more wrong. If anything he may have turned out to be one of the smartest men I ever knew.
The first few weeks were spent holding our position from the germans. It was brutal but I found I was a decent shot with the rifle I was given. Marsh on the other hand spent those weeks barking orders at us and keeping us in line. He never used a rifle like most of the soldiers used. Instead he kept a Beretta m9 with him at all times. That weapon was the only one I ever saw him use. I remember the name only because he was so found of explaining everything there was to know about the gun to me whenever I questioned him about it. You could immediately recognize the pistol as his by its strange grip. One side of it had a picture of an idyllic scene of a manor house in the middle of a sprawling field. The other had a painting of a woman, his wife I’d guess but he never actually told me if that was there case. He seemed to spend the nights staring with longing at each side of the artistic grip.
I’d never really had a family, even with Belle I’d always felt like I was a bit of an outsider. There was so much I didn’t know about how normal people lived. Even though I’d had friends in Paris we were always kind of hidden away in our own personal corner. There was this separation between us and normal life, even between the other supernaturals in the area.
Here I felt like I was part of something though. Sure I was still lost but so was everyone else, we could be lost together and Marsh would always set us straight in the end. There was something about the man, some piece of him that just understood what we were all going through. He expected a lot from us but he was never unreasonable and several times even argued with command on our behalf when ridiculous orders came our way. I actually wanted to serve with him. The rest of the platoon wasn’t bad but they’d all been given the same deal as me. They were all just there to get out of prison. I’m still not sure what Marsh’s story was, he always kept that to himself but any of us would’ve taken a bullet for that man.
Our first real assignment came maybe three months into my period of indentured service. Our platoon was tasked with rescuing a captured American scientist and capturing a German scientist. The scientists in question were Frank Smith and Stein Hoffman and no, the irony of those names is not lost on me, fits the two of them though. I’m sure doctor Frankenstein wishes he was successful as those two. But before those orders could be acted on we had to overtake a German trench surrounding the compound they were staying in.
That fight was bloody and we lost several good men in the chaos. At one point a trench gun was shoved into my arms and I launched myself into the German trench. I wouldn’t be surprised if ghost stories are still passed around of what I did that day. After I made my way over and into the German trench I lashed out with all I had. Moving with superhuman speed and lashing out with both the bayonet affixed to my gun and my fangs, I fell upon the Germans. They stood little chance as I tore into them and all by my lonesome I ensured we’d face no more resistance.
Marsh was the first over into the now silent trench, I’m glad it was him because I’m not sure anyone else would’ve understood like him. I was holding the German officer to the trench wall, fangs buried in his neck as I fed when I heard footsteps behind me. I dropped him and turned to see Marsh staring questioningly at me. I must’ve been a sight to see, blood dripping from my mouth and covering my bullet torn uniform. Marsh steadied himself for a moment and shouted back to the rest of the platoon,
“Boys hold up a second! Just get down and stay up there a minute won’tcha!”
All of a sudden he took a step forward and a well mannered grin took its usual place on his lips.
“Though You didn’t care for sauerkraut J.?”
The joke stunned me, I fully expected him to shoot me then and there, put me down like the abomination I must’ve looked like to him.
“Lieutenant I…”
But Marsh raised his hands to cut me off.
“Command’d probably want me to shoot’cha, hell maybe I aught’a but I don’t think it’d be right. You seem decent, little odd sure but you’ve got heart, I see it in the way you look out for the boys. Plus I always figured there was some’n off about you. The way you stay out’a the light always seem a little faster and stronger than anyone got the right to be just didn’t figure it’d be…. That.”
Marsh told me pointing to the punctures in the officers neck.
“Thank you lieutenant, Could we keep this between us though sir?”
“Drop the formalities J. Jesus! We’re all friends here.”
“I just don’t want the others to know, they may not be as understanding as you.”
“No can do, but you can tell em’ yourself. Alright men, get on down here!”
In all my years I’d never had to explain myself to anyone up until that point. I guess that day my number was up but I never knew just how understanding people, normal people could be. I’d always lived around the supernatural in Paris, didn’t interact much with the normal people I saw in the streets every day, I didn’t have to. I’d always assumed there was a reason for that but in the moment I realized there wasn’t, not really. I’d just avoided normal people because I feared what they’d think if it came out that I wasn’t like them.
Of course There were some of the men that objected to… what I was. Most of them took after Marsh though. They didn’t really care what I was, I’d proven to them I was a good person and thats all that mattered. I just wish they’d been right about me back then because the truth was I still hadn’t learned to care, not really. Even the ones who objected came around eventually and that night Marsh finally came clean to me about why exactly he was so accepting.
According to him he’d always assumed there was more out there, things beyond human that lived on the fringes of society. Even he always thought he sounded crazy. I was the proof he needed to convince himself he wasn’t. Marsh also told me what we were really doing with the scientists. Both Frank and Stein researched the supernatural, their projects were as secret as secret could be. Marsh’s interests and theories, as personal as he tried to keep them showed up in his file somewhere. The higher ups had handpicked him for this mission because of it. The official story was that Frank had been captured but in reality he defected to further his own research with a like minded individual. Our mission was really to force Frank back into the fold and take Stein along with him.
The more he talked the more I could tell his heart was fully committed to this mission and the final assault tomorrow. I’d never seen someone so… alive. In my extremely long life I don’t think Id ever felt that kind of conviction myself. So I promised him I’d have his back tomorrow no matter what.
Morning broke and with it our assault began. Intel on the German defenses was shoddy at best but we never expected what we’d actually run into. At least three times our number acted as guards so a distraction was in order to give us a window of entry. A few of the men would handle the distraction “however they saw fit” to quote Marsh. Then Marsh and I would make our way into the compound itself and the rest of the platoon would cover us.
For what its worth most of the plan went off without a hitch. A tremendous explosion signaled Marsh and I to press the advantage and rush the confused soldiers that lay in front of us. Some actually turned and ran from me, apparently word of my stunt in the trenches yesterday had spread quickly. The rest of the platoon followed behind us but then our luck ran out with the roar of an engine.
An honest to god panzer tank rolled out of a tunnel we hadn’t seen that ran under the compound and turned its barrel towards us. I almost didn’t hear the blast from how slow time seemed to move. But move it did as the explosion of the shell’s impact scattered bodies left and right. The shell impacted behind us but the sheer force of the blast threw Marsh and I to the ground, knocking us unconscious.
When I slowly came to my eyes couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A man dressed in red priestly robes with a matching red top hat was walking between the bodies. When he approached one that groaned out with agony he’d kneel down and whisper things I couldn’t hear to them, after that he’d snap his fingers. sometimes the person he was talking with would disappear other times they would fall silent and sometimes it didn’t appear that anything happened at all.
Just the sight of the man terrified me and I wasn’t sure why. It was an instinctual reaction, the second I lay eyes on him I froze up and ice cold fear crept its way up my spine. When people accuse me of being the devil this man is who I think of. Even today I’m not sure what it is he does or why. What I do know is that he never looks the same. I’ve seen him appear as male, female, even as an animal on a few occasions but I can always tell. The second I’m near him no matter what he looks like the same old feeling comes over me.
Once my vision had finally focused in on the man he seemed to notice without ever looking at me. I blinked and suddenly he was there, kneeling over me.
“Would you like to live.”
He rasped down at me with a voice that seemed to boom around me no matter how quiet it must’ve actually been. I felt like a child again, staring at Archer for the first time. I’d never really had to fear death before but here I was, sure I was about to meet my end right here. In all honestly I wasn’t injured all that bad, I probably could’ve survived with or without this man help. But something told me that if I said no he’d make sure I would die right here.
“Ye…y… yes”
I stuttered out, barley able to form the words through the pain that stabbed throughout my body.
“You will be my instrument for one night at a time of me choosing.”
The man replied. I stayed silent as I stared into his eyes, trying to determine if the sunglasses he wore were tinted or if his eyes really did burn with an infernal red light. The man cocked his head as if waiting for a response to his question. I’m not sure if question was the right word though, there wasn’t much of a choice for me.
Looking back there was always a choice, maybe I could’ve survived on my own merits, found another way. In the years to come I’d wish I just said no, even if it would’ve cost me my life. But thats not what happened. I nodded and the deal maker snapped his fingers. As soon as he had dark clouds flooded the sky and blocked out the sun, allowing my body to begin repairing itself. The man moved on to where Marsh’s body lay and probably made him the same deal as I felt my body healing. Despite that, my consciousness faded again as I strained to try and hear what the man would say to Marsh.
We never actually discussed the man at all. Not then and not in the years since. Maybe that was all an unspoken part of Marsh’s deal. Maybe both of us just wished that man was nothing more than a waking dream, a vivid hallucination. Whatever the case neither of us ever mentioned that man to each other.
The next time I woke up I was chained to a table next to Marsh. We had been captured and brought before the very scientists we were here to apprehend. There were guards around but they all seemed to be waiting for some kind of order. I was certainly surprised when that order came in perfect English, even more surprised when the order was to let us down so we could talk.
Frank and Stein ended up being quite reasonable people. The two let us stay in relative comfort in the compound as long as we agreed to stay and leave them to their work. That was all the convincing it took for me. I understand that the men I’d served with were all dead and that these two were in some way responsible. Maybe that should’ve bothered me more, today it certainly would’ve. Back then I didn’t think the same way, they accepted me for what I was but only briefly, only out of respect for Marsh. What did the lives of people I’d known for so short a time really matter? Writing this now just makes me realize how cold I was before, I didn’t care for anything beyond myself. I’d made no efforts to find Belle since we were separated and how long had I known her, 100 years, more? I may have pretended I cared but when push came to shove I simply tried to make sure I survived.
Marsh wasn’t as cold as me, in fact he almost immediately reached for where his pistol should’ve been when he was unchained. It took Frank, Stein, and myself weeks to convince him that helping would be the right decision. He didn’t like it at first but little by little I think the scientists grew on him. The guards I’d seen our first day here seemed to thin out the longer we stayed. Wether that was a gesture of trust or simply because they were needed for more important duties I don’t know but it certainly eased Marsh’s mind.
I merely observed the scientists most of the time until Stein asked me for a sample of my blood. It didn’t surprise me that he knew what I was but for obvious reasons I was hesitant to give it to him, especially considering what I’d seen so called doctors do with vampire blood. Eventually he wore me down and I gave let him take a sample just to shut him up. After that I became more involved in their research though not by choice. They had me showcasing my abilities and tested the effects of sunlight on my blood. On a few rare occasions Stein even injected it into other prisoners that were brought in, something I put a stop to very quickly. T
hat sample of blood is why Frank and Stein are still around today. Somehow they managed to isolate whatever part of my DNA allows me to age so much slower than a normal person. They took that and spliced it into their own DNA against my recommendations. The crazy thing was it actually worked. Sure they had a newfound appreciation for rare steaks but beyond that I didn’t notice any of the effects that combining vampire DNA with your own would usually have.
As Marsh and I assisted the scientist’s research however we could we both came to the realization that they needed each other to function. Stein lacked a moral compass and was prone to suggest unethical or risky procedures, sometimes going so far as to carry them out without informing Frank. Frank on the other hand preferred caution in everything he did and sometimes I noticed him personally taking and shredding requests Stein had written for test subjects, hazardous materials, or samples from supernatural entities. The two kept a very delicate dance of checks and balances. Stein ever the daring mad scientist and Frank always playing the role of overly cautious genius.
Marsh and Frank got along extremely well near the end. The two would be up at all hours of the night as Frank explained what kind of things really existed in the world. Marsh always shared these ideas of a world where the supernatural and the normal could live together and I think Frank shared that vision. It wasn’t possible, still isn’t but treating the supernatural as something other than monsters couldn’t possibly be a bad thing. I think thats where the idea of the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs really came from, those talks Marsh had with anyone who would listen.
Overtime one of our favorite conversations was what we would do when the war was over and we could leave this compound. Stein wasn’t sure he would, if his research wasn’t going to a man who’d simply use it to cause more conflict he wouldn’t mind staying. Frank wanted to return home, if that was even possible and he asked if Stein would join him. Those two had also become close friends through our months in the lab. That checks and balances relationship they had made them basically inseparable. Marsh’s answer surprised me though, he said he wanted to get out of the military and start a program, something to help the supernatural live closer to normal lives. At least keep tabs on them so that the quality of their lives might improve. I was stunned, I couldn’t believe he’d throw his career away just to chase this pipe dream of his. I didn’t even know Marsh was concerned with that kind of thing. I didn’t have an answer of my own so I said I’d join Marsh and help with this program idea of his. Actually, even Frank and Stein seemed to agree with Marsh’s way of thinking. Little did we know the war would end less than a month after our talk and we’d all get the chance to actually put Marsh’s little idea to the test.
Once the Americans had come and discovered the compound pretty much abandoned aside from us we were all taken prisoner and shipped back to America. We were all interrogated and they either heard what they wanted to hear, or decided anyone we’d talk to about our experiences would assume we were just crazy. We were released back into society under constant surveillance. They even gave us a sizable home in D.C., it was certainly bugged to its core but thats exactly what we wanted.
Through the next year we used Frank and Steins knowledge and my supernatural nature to track down entities all over the country. We made sure that everything was discussed and planned out in the house. That way however was listening knew exactly what we were doing and how successful it was. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows though, some entities would rather we didn’t know about them. Others were naturally aggressive but some we were actually able to help.
Our escapades as a group of four didn’t last much past the first year. Mostly because our master plan of using the bugs worked perfectly. Ol’ uncle Sam had been listening in and wanted his chance at calling the shots but it meant we became a legitimate organization, the BSA. Technically the acronym was already taken but no one ever complained and Marsh never came up with anything better.
We spent 4 years doing everything we could to improve the lives of supernatural beings everywhere. Not every one of our endeavors was a success but we did some good in the world. One such project was blood banks for vampires. While the blood that gets donated is used for transfusions and the like some was put into cold storage for the BSA. That got distributed to vampires who had come to an agreement with us to stop hunting humans for blood. Some vampires were even selected for jobs at these blood banks, under the supervision of BSA agents of course.
The more human supernaturals like werewolves, vampires, and succubi even used us to find jobs in the world. We made in roads for the supernatural in daily life because of it. Werewolves would use their strength for government construction. Vampire’s long lives made them excellent archivists or history teachers because they actually been there for those events. A succubus’s ability to understand and control someones emotions and reactions made them excellent therapists and conflict deescalation specialists. Those are just some of the fields we managed to get the supernatural involved in. While they usually had to hide their natural they were wildly successful.
Everything went well until that fourth year when I first met Baelen. He was headstrong from the beginning, the powers that be were grooming him for leadership. He was everything they wanted, he followed orders and didn’t question things to much. In short, he was the perfect solution to the inconvenience the four of us caused running the organization as we saw fit. But baleen had a mean streak, he didn’t want to protect the supernatural so much as he wanted to put them in their place. Unfortunately a lot of the research we provided had scared pretty much everyone above us who had never even entertained the idea of the supernatural until now. That meant Baelen’s ideas of monitoring and segregating the supernatural population were popular. So popular that suggesting culling their numbers to keep them in check and under the thumb of the BSA was an idea they actually entertained. That sentiment caught on and our orders became more and more militant.
Every time we disregarded them to do things the way we had envisioned the consequence grew steeper. Eventually Frank, Stein, Marsh, and I just couldn’t stand to see what our BSA had become so we left. We couldn’t do anything else to stop what was coming from the inside, no point in going down with the ship.
After that Baelen quickly ended up heading the whole operation. He still took orders directly from government officials and when the BSA became part of homeland security it became Chimera division. Why they chose such a stupid name I’ll never know but the organization was a shadow of its former self. Before we looked out for the supernatural, tried to help. Under Baelen Chimera just exists to monitor the supernatural and “correct” any issues uncle Sam decides to have with them. They’re glorified enforcers that don’t give a damn how the supernatural actually have it. That’s not to say some good people don’t work for them, people like Belle and even Marsh’s own daughter as far as I’m aware.
It sickens me to think I was a part of it though, for all the good we did maybe it would’ve been better if Johnson Marsh’s pipe dream would’ve stayed just that. I can do a lot but I can’t change the past so I guess we’ll never know. A while ago I heard that something had happened in a little nowhere town out in New Mexico. Pretty much dropped off the face of the Earth. The only reason I even heard about it was through Belle’s letters. Apparently Chimera had to do some huge cover up job and decided it was better if the town just never existed. Maybe I should go myself and see if I can’t piece what happened together. Could be that someone else out there has it in for Chimera and is a whole lot more direct about it than me. I’m just imaging it was some runaway experiment Frank and Stein got up to. I wonder where those two ended up, I’ll have to check up on them sometime. This journal writing is digging up a lot of memories for me but thats probably a good thing. Write them down before I forget again. I think that’ll be all for today then, why do I keep addressing these like someone’s reading them? Not much point to that is there?
submitted by CDown01 to DrCreepensVault [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 20:16 Arunbenx This is one of the best creationism argument in see. (Indian edition)

This is one of the best creationism argument in see. (Indian edition)
I have seen many god in the gaps, intelligent design and fine tuning argument, most of them are really stupid and can be debunked easily. But there are some argument that you need some level of scientific knowledge to debunk it. Which are really rare especially in India. I believe this is one of those videos. (I couldn't do it, due to the lack of knowledge) but i believe some with very low Scientific temperament (like me) can be easily fooled by this. Actually I would like u/PranavYedlapalli to react to this video, even though the is video in Malayalam. (I believe he can understand Malayalam)
For those who don't understand Malayalam i had done a rough translation.
The translation.
When we observe the universe, a lot of things are pointing to a creator. It's an obvious logic.
When we look at mount rushmore do we ever think of it happens of natural causes, we know there is a creator, some one or a few people made that. Just like that when we observe the universe and our body, it's clear that there is a creator. When It comes to topic like creation of universe and our body, atheist would say it's undirected. Without direction, just through evolution this all had happened. But if we dig deeper we would realise that it is impossible to imagine universe without a creator.
This is Fred Hoyle, (a picture) he is a scientist. What makes him special is that he was one of the greatest atheist in 1940-80s. There is a theory called steady state theory. Regarding the creation of this universe there where two theory, one steady state theory and other Big Bang theory. The steady state theory state's that the universe has no beginning nore an end. For an atheist which theory would be more acceptible. It's steady state theory. In that the universe don't have a beginning, if there is a beginning the we have to find the reasoning for it's creation and it's creator. If there is no beginning, they don't have to find that. At those times all the atheist accepted steady state theory. After that the theory of Big Bang came, which talks about an explosion occurring at point of sinclarity. This is a different topic. I'm not gonna talk about this now.
The name big bang was given by Fred Hoyle, InFact he mocked that theory by calling it a "big bang". The theory's opponent (Fred Hoyle) given the name for that theory. After few a years Fred Hoyle become a theist. The reason was not big bang.... But it's fine tuning, it a bit complex but I will explain it.
(Okay, I'm not gonna translate the entire speech word by word, it's only been 6min to the 38min video, I'm exhausted. I'm only gonna translate the relevant points now onwords.)
After that he ask the audience "what's the most important element for us?" He waited for someone to say carbon, then started talking about different forms of carbon. "From diamond to Ash alot of things are carbon." The he goes on. " Carbon is important for the sustenance of life, and the Fred hoyle want to know how carbon was formed." Then he start talking about nuclear fusion, how everyother atom is formed by fusion of hydrogen. Then he goes on to explain how carbon was formed using fusion. He said "for carbon to form they need a specific value of force, and specific value of quark is needed for high energy carbons. So what's he (Fred hoyle) understood from that was their should be a design, or else this specific values can't occur. Then he goes on, how the gravity is affecting the temperature of the Star. Where too much or too little gravity would over heat or under heat the star, which won't lead to carbon formation. Then he goes on, even if the value of the gravitational constant change by 1/10³⁵, even then there couldn't be a carbon. Even a small decimal could prevent carbon formation and that made atheist Fred hoyle to a theist.
Then a quote of Fred hoyle.
Which clearly state that there's no blind force and it's clear without any doubt, it's intelligent design.
Then he goes on explaining how minor change in these values would prevent life from forming.
Change in 1/25 of Electro magnetic Force would prevent life form.
Same for Strong Nuclear Force, 1 part in 100 would prevent the universe from forming.
Same for
Ratio of weak nuclear force to SNF - 1 part in 10000
Ratio of EMF to Gravity - 1 part in 10⁴⁰.
Which futher proof fine tuning.
(Ok the next part is kinda obvious, even i know it's stupid.)
He talks about earth and it's position to sun, how it's not too close nore too far, so that life can form. He talks about the rotation and revolution of earth, how a change would increase or decrease the days which makes life impossible here. And how position of Jupiter Stop astroids. Then the size of moon and position play's a huge role in lunar tide, which play's a huge role in life forming on the earth. Futher he talks about the Axis, speed, sunlight. Which all are fine tuned.
Then he talks about the probability of this being random. With an experiment, in a box there is cards with 1 to 10 numbers. What is the possibility of drawing the 10 cards in the exact order (1 to 10) from the first being one is 1/10 and gos on. And the chance to get it all in order is 1/ 10 crores. Even a simple explanation like that has only 1/10 crores chance. Which means the possibility of getting this is very less.
Then gives the Infinite monkey therom typing hamlet example. Then he try to calculate the possibility of typing just the sentence
"to be or not to be, that is the question"
To get "T" correct: 1/32
To get "TO" correct : 1/32 x 1/32
To get complete correct: 1/(5.1422017e+061)
Assume: Monkey typing one line(41 strokes per second)
Probability that monkey won't get the sentence correct in one second: 1-(1/32)41
•Probability that monkey won't get it in one minute : [1-(1/32)41]60
•Probability that monkey won't get it in one year: {[[[1-(1/32)41]60]60]24}365
Which is
0.9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999993867218 44366784484760952487499968756116464000
Even if we take 1700 crore years
Probability is
0.99999999999999999999999999999999999999999998946 3961512816564762914005246488858434168051444149065 728
Till now he was talking about a single monkey, now let's take
17 billion galaxies, each with 17 billion planets, each with 17 billion monkeys, typing one line per second for 17 billion years!
Probability that monkey don't type this sentence:
0.9999999999999465759379507781960794856828386656482641321881042993265961 42975867879656916416973433628!!
The chance of getting a single sentence is so low, Hance this all being a chance it really low.
Then he kinda compare this with multiverse theory.
Then he ends with Occam's razor philosophy, where the simplest explaination is the best. He gives an example, imagine when you wake up in the morning, and the food is readied. What would be the possible explain, the simplest and most possible explanation is someone in your house cooked it rather than some complex explanation, of someone from outside bringed it, which is even though possible. The chances is low. The multiverse theory and everything like that is a complex explanation, we need a simplest explaination. And he also given a example of founding iPhone in a desert. You could have a simplest example where someone lost it, and a complex on where the iPhones chipset is made up of silica with is sand and the body is plastic which is made by petroleum product. So you could also say in this thousands of years the sand and petroleum converted some how to form an iPhone. It's complex, make it simple so someone lost It.
The reason why i think it's the best is just my subjective feeling, and i never seen some put creationism argument this.
submitted by Arunbenx to scienceisdope [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 20:05 OrlonDogger A Witch at Midnight - Chapter 19

[First] [Previous] [Next]
To my beloved Marcus
I know you will make sure
this Heart reaches every lost Bastard
or any curious soul in general
until this guide is no longer necessary.
It makes me so sad to think I won't live to see that day.
It is hard for me to say this, but if this book has made its way into your hands, it means that it is already too late for you. For some reason, whichever it may be, you are already in the middle of our situation. And taking the chance now that I already said something so depressing, here is another thing: there is no way for you to get out of it.

Are you being surrounded by strange events lately? I don’t know, maybe the lights around you blink more often than not, the radio changes stations without anyone touching the dial? The animals are suddenly extremely aggressive, or maybe unnaturally tame towards you?

Suddenly you can’t shake the feeling that someone, or something, is staring at you from somewhere unseen in the room…

I guess that I don’t need to mention how this all started. You probably saw something you weren’t meant to see, didn’t you. Some random person breaking the rules of reality in one way or another. A guy flying, a girl on the streets spitting fire, objects appearing out of nowhere.

Nothing makes sense and no one seems to care or know how to explain it. Well my friend, I am sorry to inform you that you have been infected. You are incubating the Arcane Infection, and you are now Awake.

Now, you are a Mage. A Bastard Mage, if you don’t have a master to guide you… which is most probably the case.

If this is the first time you read this book, or any kind of Draconian Text, this probably doesn’t make any sense. I know, it didn’t make sense for me either when I was in your place, almost seventy years ago. But trust me, everything will be explained in time. Just be patient, and stay with me, ok? Keep calm, and keep reading.

The first thing you need to learn is to shut up. You cannot talk about this with anyone who hasn’t experienced it and holds some sort of relevant position in society. Really. Famous scientists, politicians, Mayors, I don’t know. Anyone who tends to be trusted by non-mages. Just. Don’t.

If you already did, let’s hope they didn’t believe you. With some luck, you were disregarded as a fool, a maniac or a person with too vivid of an imagination.

If you survive past three days or so after opening your dumb mouth, you should be safe? Now don’t do that again. The Black Pages don’t like it when you try to talk about this…

Remember that sensation of being stalked? Let’s say that it will eventually go away, unless you are stupid or naive enough to try and bring attention to this deal.

Yes. Magic is real. Good for you. Now shut your piehole and keep reading unless you want to be remembered soon. Walls have eyes and ears, and they’ll probably continue to have them for two or three months. Trying to run away will only perpetuate this, so the best thing you can do is not think about it.

Do something stupid in these months and you will die. Disappear. Kaput. Remembered.

There are people who want to maintain this as a secret. That is another thing I will explain in time.

Right now you have two options: You can learn how to manage this new “gift” (if you want to call it that) in a remotely appropriate way; or you can just be another idiot, and try to live a normal life.

What? You think I am being unnecessarily aggressive? Well maybe I am. But you need to understand the gravity of this situation.

Because I lied. You have no options. Learn how to use this new capability to your advantage, or you will die in a freak accident.

If after reading this you prefer to just keep on with your life like nothing happened, then good for you. Close the book, and put it back where it was. With some luck it will land in the hands of someone less dense.

.

.

.

Still reading? Good. Excellent! Sit down, get comfortable, maybe grab a drink. This is going to be long.

Among the words of this tome in your hands, you will find all the information I have been able to gather along my eighty god damn years of life, or at least all that you need to know to keep yourself alive until getting a proper guide.

It will be a long journey, and many of the things here won't make much sense, especially because I had to take the time to adapt and translate documents three or four centuries old to a mostly understandable format.
So you better be thankful.

The first thing I want you to know: please, for the love of God, do not settle for the things I am exposing here. All the information in this book will be absolutely basic, it won’t replace a formal education.. All the information here is for you to know where you are, how to start, and where to aim.

And now is when I am going to start telling you what IS inside this book.

We will start with something simple: what is Magic (or “The Art”) exactly, how did you end up in this situation and why is it important that you study it by yourself.

Then, after the general explanation, I will talk a little about our “Society”, if we can call a bunch of lonely, grumpy jackasses a “Mage Society”. There are some non-written rules of etiquette and other details that you need to keep in mind, if you want to keep the head on your neck.

Another section of the book will talk about the dangers around us… and this section will be, ironically enough, quite short, because the less you know about it, the better.

Mystery is your greatest ally, it’s everyone’s greatest ally. All that you don’t know is as important as what you do know. And that is what the fourth chapter is about. Each Mage has their own magical system, according to which they can create a Heart. There are as many ways of Magic as Mages in the world (so, not really that many), but all of them share some similarities.

Chapter Five is about the foundations of a ritual. Not every magical system has rituals, but it is always useful to learn and understand how these work, just in case you may find yourself in a desperate situation..

Finally, Chapter Six will be a directory with Formulas, Glyphs and Thrills that should serve as a starting point for all of you. Nothing too complex, but still, very useful. I left a few blank pages here, for you to add anything you learn and feel convenient.

If any of you misuses it, I swear to the Gods.

And this would be the real reason behind this tome: take whatever you can, leave what you create for others to use. I started this book as some sort of reproduction of the classic “Metodología del Fantástico”, that dear Gwendolin de Recattio left for us almost four hundred years ago, and that is obviously beyond obsolete at this point.

That and also probably burned to ashes as many other manuals end up.

Take notes damn it, I will leave spaces for everyone to make a little mark. But for the love of the Gods don’t use your real name, don’t be an imbecile.

Let’s make something together. Let’s create something important for once in our stupid lives. Let’s make the Bastard's life a little easier.

Gato.

That casual exclamation to the so-called ‘gods’ makes it clear that this book is either heretical or very old. Then again, the Wohlian it is written in is quite modern… but that could be the effect of magic, right? After all, this thing is written in ‘draconic’, which seems to be a magical language that self-translates or something?

But that was not the only thing that kinda came to my attention. This guy, Gato, is treating magic like this incredibly serious and dangerous thing… and I can’t help but feel a little nervous about it. I mean, everyone seems to be doing just fine, even if there are a few rules that I have to consider. Was this deal really so complicated?

Well, Gato was the expert, and it felt like everyone respected them plenty so… I will abide by them!

Besides, the knowledge here is beyond promising! A part of me wants to skip right to chapter 6 and start learning new runes! But no, I have to be patient, I have to learn the way it was intended and take my time absorbing/acclimating to the knowledge!

That does remind me, I have my own runes to learn and start using, too… should I begin practicing that before I start learning new ones?

Wait. Before you do any of that… there’s more on the page?

Huh?

I will add as much as I can! This book is a great resource but it is also a bit outdated, after all it’s been almost 80 years since its writing!

Don’t give up! We will see this through!

— Giovanni.

If I leave that idiot in charge of the notes he will undoubtedly forget things. Take his optimism with a grain of salt.

Pay attention.

— Mustafá.

Annotations?

I quickly open the file on my computer to compare… and just as I thought, these annotations are not on the scanned version. The beginning is exactly the same, but the writing makes it obvious that these two were written at different times, by the same hand but, still, copied individually!

I look down at my physical version again. Who are these people? And why did they feel the need to vandalize the book like this? I can only beg for them to actually make sensible and useful comments. If this book is as old as they say, maybe the updates will be a good thi–

Wait, only 80 years? I thought a book like this would be at least a century old.

Maybe magic is surprisingly modern after all!

Fat chance. Gato quoted one of his sources, ‘Metodología del Fantástico’, which should be around five hundred years old.

Hmmm, whatever the case… I should ask someone about this.

But I can’t just go right back to the Chatbox after saying I would be busy, that would be silly! I instead connect to the Messenger.

Pepe is not online, probably planning a cool vacation with his family or something. Vito is out drawing, Patricio is online but busy… ah, there it is! The group Gal made. Someone should know something there…

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Hi hi! n.n Anyone here?
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: hey Tav, just me for now! the others are busy or snoring.
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: I wish I could go for some zzz right now
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Is it late where you live? o.o
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: early, we have a few hours of difference between Wohl and Rayah.

The Commonwealth of Rayah… that’s on the literal other side of Jericho, so of course we have half a day of difference!

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Wait O.o is it like, five in the morning over there then!?
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: eyeup
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: today I gotta take care of granny’s business and that means waking up EARLY
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Damn u.u I hope you have a good day, remember to keep hydrated!
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: hah, will do, will do.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Hmmm… hey, sorry to bother you with this but, I gotta ask… uwu
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Have you ever heard of Mustafá and/or Giovanni? uwu
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: in what context?
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: those are names, you’re saying names right now
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: In magic contexts? O.o
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: not a clue, sorry
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Bah, probably just a couple of randos then u.u
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Oh well, thank you anyways! n.n
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: where did you even find those names?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ah! I found them in the physical version of the book you sent me!
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: why did you go looking for that?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: I don’t like reading in electronic media TwT
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: hmmm ok but be careful
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: don’t go testing the knowledge of randos or something like that
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: I won’t, I won’t -u- I will be nice and careful!

Cracking my knuckles, I finally get back into the book. Finally, some answers at hand!
submitted by OrlonDogger to HFY [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 19:14 changedthebeat "Mother I Sober" & "Auntie Diaries" Confusion & Questions

I revisited this album and now I have multiple questions relating to these two songs that I would like clarity on if anyone has answers, I'll list quotes from the songs, followed up with my questions related to the lines:

Whitney's hurt, the purest soul I know, I found her in the kitchen
Askin' God, "Where did I lose myself? And can it be forgiven?"
Broke me down, she looked me in my eyes, "Is there an addiction?"
I said "No," but this time I lied, I knew that I can't fix it
Pure soul, even in her pain, know she cared for me
Gave me a number, said she recommended some therapy
I asked my momma why she didn't believe me when I told her "No"
I never knew she was violated in Chicago, I'm sympathetic
Told me that she feared it happened to me, for my protection
Though it never happened, she wouldn't agree Now I'm affected, twenty years later trauma has resurfaced
Amplified as I write this song, I shiver 'cause I'm nervous
I was five, questioning myself, 'lone for many years
Nothing's wrong, just results on how them questions made me feel
I made it home, seven years of tour, chasin' manhood
But Whitney's gone, by time you hear this song, she did all she could -'Mother I Sober'
(All relevant lines for most context)
1). This is the most confusing one to me. To my understanding this is the moment Whitney finds out about Kendrick's infidelity/lust addiction. It reads as though this convo occurred when he was 25 years old ("twenty years later, after I was five") so this would be at or around 2012-2013, which fits in with him saying Whitney asked him about this soon after the GKMC tour. Which he mentioned earlier on 'Worldwide Steppers'
"good kid, m.A.A.d city tour, I flourished on them stages, Whitney asked did I have a problem I said, 'I might be racist'"
So this kind of makes it sound like this was a conversation they had over a decade ago? The "I made it home, seven years of tour, Whitney's gone" line makes this more confusing because I would assume the GKMC or Yeezus tour or even the Drake one were the first ones he was a part of back in 2012/2013, unless he is just talking about 7 years prior to the original interpretation where he would just be doing random shows back when he was K.Dot. Unless he's saying this is when the conversation happened, they remained together until sometime recently they split, but this would be unsubstantiated. So personally I think it is clear when Whitney found out about his infidelity sometime 10+ years ago, however it's very unclear when or if Whitney is even really gone and if they don't live together, see each other, or parent their kids together. The meta perspective of her appearing on the album multiple times and being a part of the artwork, and posting a ton of her own self growth stuff on IG as well an Kendrick never really saying anything contrary besides this one line leads me to believe they're still very much together?

So I set free my cousin, chaotic for my mother's pain
I hope Hykeem made you proud 'cause you ain't die in vain -'Mother I Sober'
2). Obviously this is referring to Kendrick's cousin who is the parent of Baby Keem (who I always thought was Kendrick's first cousin, and not his first cousin once removed), but who is this cousin? Is this the cousin that was accused of touching Kendrick? I assume this isn't the same cousin from Auntie Diaries due to the similar age? Also do we know how or when they died? I feel like I'm missing something obvious. For some reason a Genius annotation says this is a female "his female cousin who’s the mother of Baby Keem" I'm not sure where this is concluded from.

"Mother cried, put they hands on her, it was family ties" -'Mother I Sober'
3). This is saying that someone in the family hit his mother, not that someone in the family was the one that molested his mother?

"Mother's brother said he got revenge for my mother’s face, Black and blue, the image of my queen that I can't erase" -'Mother I Sober'
4). Kendrick's Uncle beats up another family member to avenge what happened in the previous line above?

"I asked my momma why she didn't believe me when I told her "No"
I never knew she was violated in Chicago, I'm sympathetic" -'Mother I Sober'
5). I assume we have no further context to what happened here, whether or not this incident happened by someone in the family or not, just that it happened previously when she lived in Chicago before moving to Compton?

My Auntie is a man now -Auntie Diaries
Where is your uncle at? 'Cause I wanna talk to the man of the house -Family Matters
6). Final question regarding 'Auntie Diaries'. There was a little bit of discourse over Drake's line in 'Family Matters' regarding Kendrick's Aunt/Uncle. From my understanding, yes Kendrick's Auntie is a transman, but just because that's the case doesn't necessarily mean that he wants to be referred to as an Uncle. Is it reasonable to believe that because of the title of the song, the repetition of "My Auntie is a man now", and no other indication in the song, that Kendrick's Auntie retained the Aunt title regardless of transitioning to a man? (Technically making Drake's line incorrect/hurtful?) (Note: also in an interview around 2013 Kendrick referred to him as his Auntie then for what that's worth)
submitted by changedthebeat to KendrickLamar [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 18:51 FinancialStick7207 15 Amazing Quotes About God's Love - GuidePost

15 Amazing Quotes About God's Love - GuidePost submitted by FinancialStick7207 to Salvation_ [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 18:29 FinalOpus I edited Destiny's notes on "Debate Pervertry"

Inspired by a shitpost mocking Destiny's misuse of "who's," I figured I'd see what else was out there and goddamn. Obviously, I think that the work Destiny is doing to expose common debate strategies or logical fallacies is important, but reading through the section in his notes triggered my grammatical autism. I felt like an outside party reading through it would be a bit confused by some of the wording, so I tried my best to rework this section in a way that would be more clear to the average reader.
I'll edit other sections as well if this doesn't get me banned lmao
Debate Pervertry
1.When you accuse the other side of saying a thing, and instead of allowing the other side to explain or clarify, you immediately launch in on an attack of that particular thing.
1. Quote your opponent without context and immediately attack this statement without allowing the opponent to provide clarification.
2."Show, don't tell."
When you constantly refer to other books, speakers, videos, etc..."sources of authority" that you claim to be familiar with, without contextualizing or demonstrating an understanding of any of that underlying material. You are substituting an appeal to authority for an actual argument.
2. "Show, don't tell."
Substitute a mere reference to a book, speaker, video, etc. in the place of demonstrating your own understanding or synthesis of this source material. Invoke the name of an expert instead of using their work to shape your own argument.
3. When you intentionally say the name of your interlocutor incorrectly.
3. Intentionally referring to your opponent by an incorrect name (please god call this the Bournelli Identity please please)**
  1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fallacy_of_the_single_cause
5."The Clown Mirror"
Your opponent never seeming to be able to summarize your position, ever. You constantly having to criticize or refuse to accept ANY other characterization of your position.
5. "The Clown Mirror"
The refusal to accept your opponent's summary of your position. Never acknowledge a good faith attempt at characterizing your position under any circumstances.
6.The "Lazy Gardener," or, "Let's not get in the weeds" strategy
Oftentimes, when the opposition is lacking a thorough understanding of what's being said, they will oftentimes attempt to obfuscate away from crucial details by claiming that they "don't want to get into the weeds" or "don't want to get into technicalities", even though these particularly technicalities might be essential to justifying or attacking a particular argument.
6. The "Lazy Gardener," or "Let's not get into the weeds" strategy
When pressed by your opponent on crucial details of your position, brush aside an in-depth discussion of the issue and state "I don't want to get in the weeds" or "let's not get bogged down by technicalities." Dismiss crucial details as distractions to avoid betraying your own surface-level understanding of an issue.
7.The "Deaf Preacher"
When you refuse to engage with the argument and you just make big sweeping moral/virtue signal statements while avoiding any factual response to what was previously said.
7. The "Deaf Preacher"
Launch into a sweeping moral diatribe, praising your own virtues and/or attacking the morals of your opponent. Ignore any statements by your opposition and continue your sermon unphased.
8."Debate Edging"
When you constantly stack descriptive claims one over another that are clearly leading into a certain prescription that you never actually verbalize, causing other people to attack you on a prescriptive claim you've never made and allowing you to refute their arguments without addressing the obvious implications of what you're saying.
8. "Debate Edging"
Stack descriptive statements in such a manner that would lead an average audience to logically assume a prescription without actually saying it directly. Should your opponent assume this prescription as well, ignore the implications of your statements and attack the opponent for making an (oftentimes very reasonable) assumption.
9."Occam's Mallet"
When someone suggests that simply because a party benefited from something (or because they had something to gain something failing) that there must have been some sort of cohesive plot or scheme in order to bring about that particular thing, often involving highly subversive and unethical means.
9. "Occam's Mallet"
Attribute a plot, scheme, or conspiracy to any party which received a benefit from an action or event. Lead the audience to believe that no material benefit can exist without subversive and unethical tactics.
10."Moral Dodgeball"
Accusing someone of holding a different core value simply because you disagree with an applied position that they have.
10."Moral Dodgeball"
Accuse your opponent of holding a different core value simply because you disagree with an applied position they have. (Nothing really to change here!)
11."Robinhood Complex"
Always siding with the less powerful entity in any conflict, simply due to the amount of power both sides are capable of exercising.
11. "Robinhood Complex"
Take the side of the less powerful entity in any conflict by default. Ignore any complicating variables or extenuating circumstances and reduce the issue to an imbalance of power dynamics alone.
12."The Braveheart"
When someone poses a question about how a person should respond in a situation, where it's obvious that the person would need to act in a certain way to protect their interests, but the more privileged debater responds with "Personally, I wouldn't do this..." instead of acknowledging the need for the affected party to respond and protect their interests in a particular way.
  1. "The Braveheart" (I'm actually having a really hard time figuring this one out. Anyone willing to help me out here?)
13."You're being so weird/obsessed!"
When someone does something that you do exactly and then you accuse them of being weird when they do it, e.g. making clips/compilations of what the other person does and then the other community creates something in response.
13. "You're being so weird/obsessed!" (or "Pot, meet Kettle")
Mislead your audience through clips or compilations of your opponent, yet dismiss the opponent as being obsessive should they or their audience respond to your characterization with clips or compilations of their own.
14."Death by a thousand anecdotes"
When someone is incapable of pushing back factually against a heavily data-driven argument and instead relies upon personal (or popular) anecdotes, or unrelated data, to make their point.
14. "Death by a thousand anecdotes"
If your opponent attacks your argument with data, tell a series of personal anecdotes or popular stories rather than provide data of your own.
15. "Tragedy of the Commons Sense"
Basically any time someone invokes common sense because they're unable to explain or justify their position in any other way.
15. Tragedy of the Common Sense"
If unable to explain or justify your position in any way, claim that your argument is simply "common sense" and refuse to elaborate further.
submitted by FinalOpus to Destiny [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 17:06 random_koala777 The Seeds Cultivated by Time – A theory about Cryo

I was doing some digging around about the meaning of Cryo and it’s “ideal”, and stumbled across a few interesting connections. I am not sure if anyone else has found these connections already (from a quick check) – I tend to only hop on here when I have a crazy theory I want to share. Hopefully I am not rehashing something that's already been covered!
The main theory is that the power of Cryo, like Anemo, is related to Time.
To be more specific, I think Cryo may be the power that creates the "Seeds" that are carried by "the winds of time".
I came across this idea when trying to look into the "ideal" of Cryo.
From what we have seen in the game, all elements are tied to an “ideal”, and each “ideal” is tied to a deeper meaning connected to the world itself. To give some brief examples:
From what we know, it seems like the Cryo Archon’s ideal is likely to have been “Love”. So what deeper meaning does “Love” mean and how does it relate to ice or “Cryo”?
And then from there I kind of spiralled!
The main theory here is explained in the first two sections, and the rest of the sections I try and use this theory to explain other mysteries in the game. Those sections might be heavier in speculation.
The Meaning of Cryo
While I'm not sure I have a concrete “meaning” or understanding of Cryo yet, I came across a few interesting themes surrounding the Cryo Element:
To summarise, there seems to be themes of protection(perhaps preservation?),family, and vulnerability.
Thematically I can see the ties between these – we love our family(typically) and want to protect them, and the things we protect can be seen as our vulnerability(and/or, we protect things that are vulnerable).
So "love" inspires us to "protect".
Love and it's connection to "protection" is an important part of this theory.
Cryo and Time
There are a few instances in descriptions where both ice/snow/Cryo and time are mentioned together.
Furthermore:
So overall, there seems to be a lot of talk about “freezing time”, and it seems like freezing a living organism can preserve them in a way that doesn't kill them (like in real life).
We have seen how Cryo might be related to the idea of “protection” as well, or perhaps preservation?.
So perhaps we can say that the Cryo element seems to be able to "protect" things from the flow of time?
Seeds of stories, brought by the wind and cultivated by time. Stories brought on the wind will bloom into legends in due time.” - Sundial in Mondstadt related to the God of Time.
In this quote above, it says that “seeds” are brought by the wind/Anemo.
But what are these “seeds”?
While I can’t say exactly what they are, I think that perhaps these “seeds” are at least partially created through the powers of Cryo.
I came to this conclusion after looking at the themes that surround Cryo: love, protection and vulnerability.
These themes, to me, seem to apply perfectly to the concept or function of “seeds”.
A seed tends to need a protective shell, to shield the “vulnerable” parts within.
A seed waits for the correct conditions to sprout, remaining dormant otherwise.
This dormancy can be seen as being “frozen in time”. A seed is effectively “frozen in time” and won’t sprout until the correct conditions are met. This power of protection from time being related to Cryo may be similiar to how the power of Dendro is related to the power of dreams.
Also, remember that when asked about the Cryo Archon, Venti said that “500 years ago, I knew her well.”?
Sure, they are both Archons, but perhaps they were also close because either 1) they both served the God of Time or 2)Cryo Archon is a god of time (perhaps less likely, though).
So the “seeds” frozen in time and/or protected from time, by Cryo, are then carried by the winds of Anemo, to the correct moments that allow them to sprout.
The Love of the Three Moons
This part gets a little more speculative, but fun!
So the three Moon Sisters are suspected to be possible Gods of Time, and also seemed to rule over the Seelie in some capacity.
Love seems related to the fall of the Seelie – as the Seelie seemed to have been forbidden from falling in love with humans. It was after one of the Seelie married a “traveller from afar” that the Seelie fell – some catastrophe struck as a result, soon after this “marriage”.
With the added context that love possibly means or results in the protection from time – that could explain why falling in love with a human was seen as bad. Abusing your powers to protect a human from time sounds bad, for sure.
And maybe, just maybe, the “love” the Seelie had were finite in some way? Which would explain why they couldn’t dish it out to humans freely. Maybe, they had none of this “protection” left over for themselves after giving it away… leaving them to deteriorate and become the lifeforms we see them in today?
In fact, if this is true, then the Seelie gave their love to a “Traveller from afar” which sounds like it could have been an entity similar to the Traveller. The Traveller is said to be a star themselves.
What’s interesting about that is both the Abyss Sibling and the Travellers are stars, and they are possibly very old. In fact, in the We Will Be Reunited quest, the Abyss Sibling tells the Traveller that “I have more than enough time to wait for you, we’ve always had enough time.”
While this seems to be hinting that they have a lot of time, not necessarily immunity from time, it is interesting when you remember that the book Moonlit Bambo Forest says that the Moon Sisters “shared but one love, the stars of daybreak”.
If love is the protection from time, then it could mean that the twins have gained an immunity from the flow of time. Time does not affect them – as they have received the love of the Moon Sisters, who are possibly Gods of Time.
Khaenri’ah, Dainsleif and the Inteyvat
While the pure-blooded Khaenri’ahns are cursed with Immortality, they still seem to be under the effects of time. They don’t seem to be immune.
They seem to still be undergoing some sort of decay – whether it be their memories, mental state, or decaying “from within” (As Chlothar speculates).
HOWEVER – remember how Dainsleif said that he was able to resist the effects of his curse due to the presence of “it”? It was somewhere in the Chasm questline, where he was unsure how the Black Serpent Knights were able to retain some of their humanity without “it”.
Perhaps Dainsleif has also received the “love” of a Seelie/Moon SisteTime god (or whatever the Cryo Archon actually is)?
In fact, now I am wondering if this is also related to the Inteyvat flower, which would harden when In Teyvat, and then return to normal when back in Khaenri’ah.
Khaenri’ah might be located somewhere in the Abyss, and the Abyss seems to have a strange flow of time, after all.
So it might not be too far of a stretch that the Inteyvat flowers are also “protected from time” with this power of love/Cryo until the flower returns to the correct “time” – Khaenri’ah. Though that would also mean that Khaenri’ah is located in a different place in time – in the future or the past, which would be interesting. But probably not impossible from what we have seen in Ei’s second story quest and the Perilous Trails Chasm quest.
Possible Links between Paimon and the Tsaritsa
So there seems to be possible links between the element of Cryo, love, and protection.
The God of Cryo, who is potentially the God of Love and, by extension, potentially the God of Protection…hm.
Remember the “About Yashiori Island” voice lines?
In those voice lines, Paimon claims to be the “god of protection”.
Sure she seems cheeky about it, and was probably joking, but who knows at this point! She might have remembered something subconsciously or this may just be foreshadowing, etc, etc.
Either way, I started digging around to see if I can find any mythological links in real life.
A few interesting things I found:
I’ve already made a theory previously on this subreddit about the Tsaritsa and the Moon Sisters. So if Paimon is also related to the Seelies and/or Moon Sisters, perhaps these connections between her and the Tsaritsa is not too strange if the theory about Cryo and time are true.
In fact, the goddess Hathor is said to be the Egyptian version of Aphrodite, god of love, and from reading the wikipedia page, Hathor seems very similar to the Goddess of Flowers – who was a Seelie - and the Seelie served the Moon Sisters, who may have been gods of Time.
There isn’t much more for me to say here – I am not saying that Paimon and Tsaritsa are the same person, but just that I find it interesting that there may be some overlaps between the two characters. I can’t say for sure what this overlap means. Maybe Paimon is a fragment of the Tsaritsa, maybe Paimon was a servant of the God of Time along with the Tsaritsa, maybe Paimon is the God of Time and is therefore the Tsaritsa’s boss. Who knows. Just interesting.
Time and the Preservation of Memories
In the Parable of the Lethied Lotus in the Book of Sun and Moon, it says:
"A ship captain searching for the way back to the surface discovered a tribe of people who ate these lotuses. Some crew members stayed in that place. Others rejected that temptation."
In this story, staying where people ate these lotuses is said to be a "temptation". The title of this Parable described the lotuses as "lethied" which is related to the Lethe river of greek mythology, where drinking from it causes you to "forget". In other words, forgetting is a temptation they wanted to avoid.
This is in the same book that mentions the God of Time, and Enkanomiya, where they worshipped the God of Time.
Now, Ganyu, a Cryo character, uses Amos Bow, and the literal translation of this weapon, according to the wiki, is "Determination to Not Forget".
So perhaps this power of "protection" can also protect memories.
Since time causes memories to "fade" (best example, Dainsleif's own faded memory due to his long life) then perhaps this power of time immunity can also be used on memories.
TLDR:
Cryo protects things from time, and those things are then carried by Anemo. Cryo seems to have the ability to freeze things in time (possibly), or in other words, to protect them from the flow of time. The Tsaritsa, as the Cryo Archon, may have a deeper relationship to the God of Time (or she is a god of time – if you think that there are multiple aspects that rule different types of time).
There are also some interesting possible connections between Paimon and the Tsaritsa, which, if they are both related to the god of time, makes sense.
The twins may have also received some sort of protection of time, since they are stars and the Moon sisters loved the stars of daybreak.
Also this might also be related to Dainsleif and his ability to resist his curse somewhat, and Inteyvat flowers.
And this "protection from time" may also be used to preserve more intangible things - like memories.
Discussion/Conclusion
So what does “Love” mean in the world of Teyvat?
In Genshin, the power of Cryo, and therefore the power of love, may be the power to protect things from the flow of time. It protects things from the flow of time, creating a "seed", and that seed stays dormant or "frozen in time" until its the perfect moment for those things to “sprout”.
If true, this calls a lot of things into question.
The Tsaritsa’s plans to possible recreate the world may also link back to this idea of “seeds” – she may blanket the world in snow to make it a “seed” for the next world.
I also think that if this is true, then it is quite poetic that Shneznaya – the land of the Cryo Archon – is the last region in Teyvat we visit (Khaenri’ah probably/possibly not being counted as “in Teyvat” if its located in the Abyss).
Anemo also seems to signify death in some ways (Venti’s Story Quest), and if Cryo is related to the concept of “seeds”, then Cryo represents life or birth.
“Seeds brought on the wind will bloom into legends in due time.”
Anemo is death, and is the wind that carries the seeds, and Cryo is birth, the creation of the seeds.
We started the game in the land of Anemo, of wind, and death – we started our journey in the land of “endings” and, if this theory holds true, then the last place we’ll visit in Teyvat will be the land of Cryo, of ice, seeds, and birth.
We started at the end, and will end at the start.
That is more or less it. I hope you all enjoyed reading my descent into madness! Hopefully not too wordy as I have trouble making things concise and I was getting real tired towards the end of this ha ha. What do you guys think? I would love to hear any thoughts or input, or even corrections if I got some things wrong.
submitted by random_koala777 to Genshin_Lore [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 16:56 CDown01 Eagles Peak pt.8

Previous Part
By the time I’d woke up bright and early at 4 A.M., Rocco had amassed an impressive pile of pilfered food in the corner of the tepee. He was just dragging in a turkey leg when I saw him, must’ve been at it all night form the looks of it.
“Rocco, what the hell!”
I shouted, waving my hands at the pile of food he’d brought in.
“I told you to stay out of trouble, lay low. This is… not that!”
I complained, trying to think of how I’d talk my way out of this if anyone asked about the missing food. Rocco simply responded by shrugging, turning around, and diving face first into the mountain of food. I was annoyed at the moment but then I got to thinking. If Rocco stole all that and no one saw him what else could he do without being noticed?
“Hey… hey Rocco no-one saw you stealing all this right?”
I asked, grabbing his tail and dragging him out of the food mountain.
“WHATS DA BIG IDEA!”
He protested, flailing around as I held him in the air by his tail before regaining his composure and adding.
“I’m a profesional, of course I didn’t get seen. Why?! Did someone say something!?
Rocco shot his head from side to side, like he would find someone listening or critiquing his heist. All the movement causing him to spin slowly, still dangling from his tail.
“No, I was just thinking, as long as your out here I could have a job for you.”
I said, setting him down as he answered,
“Whad’ya mean? Spit it out!”
with his classic charm.
“I mean, I want you to sneak into that blonde guy’s tepee. The one with the shitty attitude, Brooke I think his name was. Just see if you can find anything in there.”
I could see Rocco’s interest was peaked but he still had one last all to predictable question.
“What’s in it for me?”
“You keep whatever you find in there no questions asked.”
Before the words even left fully my lips Rocco cried, “DEAL” and sprinted out of the tepee on all fours, leaving me alone.
I wasn’t really sure what the process was now, was Shaoni going to come get us or did she expect us to meet her in the coliseum? I’d never been part of anything like this before, I had no idea what the attendance policy was like. So, lacking anything better to do, I walked down into the mines and waited in the coliseum. It was obvious they were’t really ready for us yet. A few of Shaoni’s people were down there placing cactus looking things into five carved wooden bowls on the floor. Five bowls, five people in these trials so those had to have something to do with us. I looked around the room, trying to find Shaoni. She wasn’t up on her perch like yesterday and she certainly wasn’t part of the small group setting up those bowls. I felt a little different about her now that we’d had a chance to talk. Before I’d been afraid of her, and for good reason, but she seemed to want the opposite of that. Maybe not from me specifically but in general. Although, how could you not be scared of someone who could turn into a giant bird and seemed to consistently be the cause of freak storms. There was a lot of power to her but she didn’t want people to be afraid of it, she wanted respect. I’m sure there was more to her that I hadn’t heard but I certainly was going to hear anything new here.
Seeing as I was still apparently early, I decided not to wear out my welcome in the coliseum. I made my way back out of the mines and settled down back at that canvas tent with the huge table. It was again filled with food that had come from nowhere in particular, probably set up by more of Shaoni’s people. As if to confirm my suspicion, the bandaged man Bianca had stabbed earlier emerged from the camp, walking towards me with a platter of bacon. He starred daggers at me as he placed the platter at the table but didn’t say anything. I was almost tempted to apologize on Bianca’s behalf but I got the sense that wouldn’t be a great idea. Not long after I saw two of the others approaching.
“… Sure, but for some glorified tent it’s still pretty comfortable.”
Brooke said to Katrina who looked thoroughly uninterested in what he had to say.
Brooke wore a… purple suit that made him look like some stereotypical version of a pimp. I couldn’t think of any reason he’d wear that out here, at least no-one would mistake him from anyone else, that ’s for sure. Katrina wore an equally confusing getup, a blue tank top and jeans that made her look kinda like the girl from those tomb raider games. It was about 50 degrees out and probably wasn’t going to get much warmer. If she wanted to freeze, so be it. I gave a slight nod to them as they sat down across from me. Katrina still eyeing Brooke with an expression that begged for him not to open his mouth again.
I couldn’t stop staring at her, no not like that, I was staring at her belt where a holster sat,
“You like it?”
She asked, noticing the staring that I should’ve been trying harder to hide, drawing the handgun from the holster on her hip.
“Beretta M9 semi-automatic pistol, my father’s service pistol actually. Always served me well, so I always keep it on me, well almost always.”
She said with a wink, checking the gun and pulling back its slide. I wasn’t all that familiar with guns but I distinctly saw her flip the safety off. Which had a profound effect on my nerves considering I was staring down its barrel.
“They let you keep that around here? I would’ve thought they take that from you.”
I asked incredulously, still eyeing the gun she had pointed at me.
“I hid it on me yesterday, if they have an issue with it they can try and take it from me. I’m not doing anything like this without some kind of insurance. They get me and Luke or nothing at all.”
She retorted, spinning the gun back into her holster and turning the safety back on with a practiced hand. “Oh that’s cute, she named it” I thought sarcastically as my nerves settled, a loaded gun no longer pointed directly at my face.
“I’m not sure Shaoni would let you leave, even if you wanted to.”
“Oh please! She wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me or she’d have bigger problems coming her way.”
Katrina laughed, throwing her hand back in seemingly genuine amusement. She really didn’t have a care about the Thunderbird? I found that hard to believe.
“So what do you do anyways then? If you’re so sure she wouldn’t touch you.”
I asked incredulously. This seemed to grab her attention as she immediately snapped her head down, locking eyes with me and barking,
“That’s a need to know thing and you don’t.”
Before returning her attention to the food on the table and ignoring me. She was military, that was probably a safe assumption.
Brooke had been listening in to our conversation as he ate. After Katrina snapped at me he finally spoke up.
“So hang on, you came all the way out here with no insurance, no protection? Does anyone even know you’re out here?”
I briefly thought about Rocco, he wasn’t great insurance but he sure came cheap. I hadn’t stopped to think about preparing anything to bring out here with me. I just stupidly assumed everyone was on the same page as me, an unprepared fish out of water.
“No, I guess not.”
I responded, a little shaken at the realization that everyone here was probably more prepared than me.
“You must be stupid or have balls of steel to do something like that.”
Brooke told me, reaching over the table to clap me on the shoulder. I didn’t know if this really was the Brooke Bianca told me about or not but I really did not like this guy. We ate the rest of our breakfast in silence. John and Robert never showed up but I guessed they were down in the mines helping set everything up. I guess being a participate in the trials didn’t exempt Shaoni's followers from having to help get ready for them.
Apparently my guess was right because Robert and John were both already in the coliseum when the three of us arrived. Shaoni was once again up on the balcony and all of the people that had been there earlier were gone. I could clearly see what was in the five bowls now. It was some kind of small cactus thing with a white-pink flower at the top. I’d never seen anything like it before but it did seem a little out of place.
“This is your first trial, the trial of morals. This trial is meant to show us where your morals lie through visions of the past and beyond. Sometimes the plant has a mind of its own though so I don’t expect anyone will have the same experience. Some may not even serve the purpose of the trial but the vision is more important than anything I hoped to learn.”
Shaoni spoke like an announcer from above us.
“There is a plant there for each of you, peyote plants that I had grow for just this occasion. Each of you will eat one of the plants and they will give you visions. You will walk among the spirits and they will show you what you need to see.”
Shaoni finished, like she hadn’t just asked us to take hallucinogenics in an unfamiliar environment surrounded by people we didn’t really trust. I wasn’t a huge fan of being here when I was in control of my faculties but while experiencing a vision, oh no, fat chance. Then again it wasn’t like I had all that much of a choice, I realized just before I opened my mouth to protest.
“Fine but what does that tell you about us? Sure we can go get high for you here but it doesn’t really help anyone.”
Brooke spoke up, taking his usual disrespectful tone with Shaoni.
“I have my ways of knowing, but this experiences is for you. It should tell you more about yourself than it will tell me but I assure you, I will learn something.”
An annoyed but composed Shaoni responded. With that she turned and left us to our task.
“So does anyone want to go first?”
Katrina asked, putting a finger to her nose, inviting anyone else to go first.
“Not so fast sweetcheeks, I don’t trust any of you so how about you take the first crack at it?”
Brooke pointedly suggested. I think Katrina wanted to throw a haymaker at his face right then but I stepped in first.
“What if we all did it at once? Then no one is waiting around and I highly doubt she would let anyone come down here and do anything to us if these trials are that important to her.”
I reasoned, pointing up at the balcony Shaoni had been standing on.
“I still don’t like it but I can live with that, I agree everyone at once like… what’s your name?”
“Keith”
“Everyone at once like Keith said.”
Commanded Katrina, looking everyone in the eye and daring them to challenge her. I didn’t know what she did before coming here but whatever it was gave her a glare even Shaoni would be proud of. No-one hesitated to walk up to their respective bowls and take a bite of the strange pinkish flower at the top of the cactus.
The effects weren’t immediate, John just ate his flower then knelt by his bowl, eyes closed waiting for the vision to come. Robert leaned against the wall looking at his watch, seemingly judging the time before it took effect.
“It’s not my first time with peyote, I’ll probably stay up a little longer than you guys.”
Brooke bragged to the room, taking a seat by his bowl as Katrina and I did the same.
Poetically, Brooke was actually the first of us to go down for the count. I had to resit the urge to stand up and kick the crumpled up purple ball that was formerly Brooke. I don’t think anyone would have stopped me, heck the way Katrina was glaring at him this morning she might’ve joined in. But given what came next it was probably a good idea I didn’t stand. All of a sudden the room began flashing different colors, orange then brown then blue. I felt like I was falling but I hadn’t moved. Eventually a sensation came over me, like I had stood up but I was acutely aware of the fact that my body was really lying on the floor of the coliseum. As my vision cleared I started to recognize things, sights and sounds of a hospital room. It would seem my vision had started by bringing me back to my father.
I inched through the hospital room, sure of what I’d see on the other side of the thin curtain. A heart monitor beeped, just the same as the first and last time I’d been in this room. I saw my father, splayed across the bed no different than the only time I’d been in this room. I’ve always maintained that my family life was generally normal, anything that lay outside of that box of normality could be attributed to my father. He was never what I’d call a good person. Sure, he was never aggressive towards me but it didn't really count for anything. You could tell he never really wanted me. What he did to my mother, that was another story. He came home drunk almost every night and she end up with a black eye or worse at least once a week. Unfortunately for us he had a good job, he paid the bills and my mother and I couldn’t really support ourselves on our own back then. Worse still my mother always told me she put up with it for my sake when I asked her about it. That meant I always felt partially responsible every time I heard a fist meet skin in the room below mine.
My father had ended up in this bed by way of a drunk driving incident. Funnily enough it wasn’t actually his fault. He just so happened to be in the wrong intersection at the wrong time when a box truck plowed right into him. The accident left him with severe brain and spinal damage. It was a sick joke he survived, not a miracle. He’d be on life support from now on. I could’ve made him pay for everything he did with the simple tug of a cable. The only reason I didn’t was that the owner of the company that employed the box truck driver offered to pay all his medical bills. He must not have looked to closely because my fathers insurance was covering all of it. But every week a hefty check came in the mail anyways. As long as he was alive and in that hospital bed, me and my mother could live comfortably. It wasn’t really the right thing to do but I figured it was what my mother deserved after years of putting up with his abuse.
The heart monitor’s shrill beeping focused me back to the situation. I stood over my father’s body, the old urge to just pull the plug washing over me again.
“It would be so easy. Mom’s fine now, you’re managing, why do you still need him?”
I thought to myself, toying with the idea as another voice spoke in my head, Shaoni’s voice.
“He’s earned it, he ruined years of your mother’s life, Its only fair he pay a price for what he did.”
I looked around for the source of her voice but I saw nothing, maybe I was just hearing things, it was just a vision after all right? I looked down to see I was now on the opposite side of the bed, hand reaching toward the cord that powered the life support. Time seemed to move at a crawl, was this really the best option? He was probably solely responsible for the distance between my mother and I, he beat her so many times. Some of the blame for it even sat on my shouldres, would killing him take that away? Could I live with myself if I did this? Knowing I took the easy way out at his expense. No… I couldn’t, it would make me just as bad as him. It just wasn’t right I shouldn’t be the one to decide if he dies. Besides, whatever sliver of sentience remained in him deserved to watch as he shriveled and died in his own way, in some ways that was far worse but he didn’t deserve an easy way out either. The room spun as I made my choice and pulled my hand back from the plug. Sending my vision spiraling as my body collapsed to the cold hospital floor. When I finally fought my way through my spinning vision and back to my feet I was somewhere else. I was in Imalone and if I had to guess it was the night I first saw Shaoni.
I was somewhere in the town square where I got chained into the wooden monstrosity the cultists had made. Shaoni was circling in the sky so I guess I was watching this memory from outside of myself. I was made absolutely sure of this when I saw myself being carried out of the old rotting bar. I watched as the situation played out exactly as I remembered it. Right up until Shaoni landed and came to speak with the one masked cultist. What had been gibberish to me before was suddenly crystal clear english.
“What IS this! You think this is right!? This is what you think I stand for, human sacrifice?!”
Shaoni shouted with such intensity and force I jumped back, looking for a place to take cover.
“Brother Aaron foretold your approach, this outsider wandered in so we thought he would make an excellent gift to you.”
The masked cultist answered, missing the point entirely as Shaoni’s eyes flashed with fury.
“There will be a sacrifice alright, a price must be paid for everything you’ve done here. You have no understanding of what I stand for, You’ve spit in the face of it in fact and for that, each and every one of you will make a sacrifice. Release that poor boy, NOW!”
Shaoni commanded the cultists with a voice so stern I almost ran to try and free the trapped version of myself. None of them budged, they didn’t even seem to realize what kind of danger they were in. Shaoni strode past them over to me where she offered me her all to familiar deal. I was stunned, I never stopped to think that she fully intended to let me go either way. Sure, now I knew that these guys weren’t her usual followers. I still never thought she came here intending to wipe them out. I didn’t really have a chance to dwell on it. Before I knew it Shaoni was transforming again causing a tornado to appear in the middle of town as lightning struck around the area like machine gun fire. As the wall of wind rain and lighting reached me I felt a familiar falling sensation and blacked out again.
When I came to I was back on the cave floor again. I wasn’t sure if I was still in a vision until I felt a sharp kick to my side.
“Oh… that felt… very real. Oh god why?”
I groaned as I looked up at the smirking Katrina.
“He’s awake, that’s everyone then.”
She called out to the rest of the group who were all standing around me. She and the others walked off in the direction of the exit, leaving me there on the floor. With nothing better to do I followed them out. Outside the full moon had shown itself, bathing the camp in shimmering moonlight. Shaoni walked up to greet all of us who’d just collectively decided to just go outside.
“You’ve all made it through it would seem, I hope your experiences weren’t to unpleasant.”
Brooke charged straight past her, I could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. Obviously he’d seen something he didn’t like while he was under the influence of that plant. Katrina seemed completely unaffected, marching by Shaoni filled with the same confidence she had when I first saw her. Robert and John seemed completely unaffected by whatever they had seen but something told me they might be used to it. Me, I wasn’t doing so great. I wasn’t all that pleased about revisiting my father and all those old memories and whatever that flower was called had really done a number on me. I weakly waved to Shaoni as I walked by, just trying to focus on walking straight. She didn’t seem to surprised that none of us wanted to talk to her. She didn’t say anything to us as we all quietly sat and ate. I didn’t like the silence, it felt like everyone was just waiting for something to happen but no-one had any idea what. So I got up and headed back to my tepee, maybe Rocco had turned something up on Brooke.
Rocco was waiting for me atop his mountain of food when I got back.
“I found somethin yous might be interested in”
He said triumphantly, waving around a polaroid photo he had clutched in his paw.
“Give that to me!”
I snapped, ripping it right out of his paw.
“Well someones in a mood.”
“Getting drugged will do that to you.”
I snapped as Rocco stared at me, paws on his hips like he was about to give me attitude.
“I’m sorry My heads still just spinning from… well everything today.”
I sighed, holding my head in one hand as I shook it. Apologizing to a raccoon, my life really was something wasn’t it? I looked down to the picture enemy hand and immediately ice shot through my veins. It was a picture of Bianca taken not too long ago by the looks of it. She was walking back into her house in the photo and it looked like it was taken from a passing car. The photo itself isn’t what really concerned me though, the message written on the back did that. “What you seek can be found in the town of Eagles Peak”, the note read in a singsongy way. I’d never seen Shaoni’s handwriting but given the circumstances I was sure that’s what I was looking at.
I looked up at Rocco who looked more serious than I’d ever seen him.
“Now I don’t know what happened to that girl but somethin’ hurt her before we knew her. If that’s the somethin’ that did, and I’m guessin’ it is lookin’ atcha’. I say we should hurt em’ back.”
Rocco told me with cold steel in his voice. It was weird, hearing him speak without a hint of a joke or over exaggerated movement. We finally found something that the little menace to society could focus on, something… productive.
“My hands are tied, I don’t think anyone here would take kindly to me just attacking someone. Besides, look at him, he’s taller and obviously stringer than me. I’m just a scrawny guy who’s way out of his element, I don’t want a fight. Just… keep an eye on him, maybe we can find something to turn the others against him?”
It wasn’t the answer Rocco was looking for, that’s for sure. He deflated at my words, I’m sure he wanted to go in guns blazing and confront Brooke with what we thought we knew. That wasn’t really going to be an option here, even if it was I’d rather not do that.
“Oh, one more thing, Don’t let Brooke go back into town if he tries to leave, I don’t care how you do it just don’t let him leave.”
I added as an evil grin crossed Rocco’s face.
“Aye’ aye’ captain!”
He cried, raising a paw to his head and saluting me.
Just then I heard someone knocking, no rustling? Screwing around with the front flap to the tepee trying to get my attention. I opened it only to see, “Shaoni?”
“I wanted to ask about the visions today, I’ve talked to everyone else but I couldn’t find you so I guessed you’d be at… is that a raccoon?”
Shaoni stopped, seeing Rocco frozen mid step behind me as he tried and failed to run before she saw him. Realizing he’d been seen Rocco twirled around and in a way only he could announced,
“Whatcha’ think you were looking at Pocahontas?”
“Oh? It talks as well?”
Shaoni said, somewhere between bewildered and bemused as she looked between me and the mouthy Raccoon.
“Course I talk! I thought you woulda’ seen somethin’ like that when you were busy painting with all the colors of the wind!”
Rocco yelled back at her. I wasn’t sure if he was actually offended by Shaoni’s questions, or just deliberately trying to be a nuisance, probably the second thing. I whirled around and glared at Rocco, holding my finger to my mouth in an attempt to shut him up. For once he actually listened.
“I… sorry about him, he’s always like that, part of his charm you know.”
I said with a shrug and a nervous chuckle. Shaoni shook her head dismissively and continued.
“Did you see anything in the cave that you wanted to talk about?”
She asked me, now sounding a little annoyed. I thought back to my father and that hospital room, I wasn’t really ready to talk about that with anyone just yet. But I did have some new questions about how I got into this whole mess in the first place.
“You said back in Imalone you saved me because I realized there was a price for being saved. That wasn’t really it though was it? I saw it again, I could understand you this time. You were going to save me regardless. So why mark me Shaoni? Why did you really bring me here?!”
I said, my voice raising outside of my control as I spoke. I had to finally admit to myself that I was sick and tired of being dragged around in the dark. I was suddenly furious and I didn’t care who it was standing in front of me, I wanted an answer.
“Those men were ruining my name, they thought they were following the Thunderbird but it was just some idea of me they had come up with. They used me to justify their horrid actions and I came to put a stop to it. You were there and when I offered you a deal you didn’t fight it. That’s why I marked you.”
Shaoni spoke quickly, like she wanted to avoid the subject, all but turning around and leaving right then.
“Bullshit! I want an answer Shaoni, a real answer!”
I yelled at her, my fury taking full control of me. Shaoni was silent for a minute, when she finally spoke she looked down, never meeting my eyes as she softly said.
“You remind me of someone from a long time ago. They were blind to the way of things at first, an outsider even. In time though, he became what bound our people together as one family. I don’t have a better answer for you than that. I wasn’t sure I should’ve chosen you at first, I had a feeling that day and I followed it. What you’ve done since you’ve got here, how you’ve handled learning what little you know about the world of the supernatural. Those things are what tell me I made the right choice.”
As she walked away I thought I saw tears reflecting in the moonlight shown on her face. As I settled down I swore I heard soft sobs, echoing across the camp long into the night.
submitted by CDown01 to AllureStories [link] [comments]


2024.05.21 16:05 ImportanceUnusual887 AITA for triggering my SIL's medical condition?

I belong to a conservative family where my marriage was fixed by my father about 18 years from now.
The family I was married into was known for their "sense of humour" or in literal terms, condescension. I faced snide comments about my background from the very start. I tried my very best to brush it off till recently when my SIL demanded the deity's place in my house be moved after the passing of my FIL. Sick and tired of years of her making my life decisions, including what I get to wear, I sarcastically remarked, "Yes ofcourse, after all it IS your house."
She laughed, but clearly I had struck a nerve for she retorted, "Oh my god, you sound just like your father."
My father died a month after my wedding. She never knew him. My in laws talk of my family like they are illiterate, ill-mannered people who lead pathetic lives. So this wasn't the first time she had mentioned my father.
However, it was the first time I voiced my hurt.
To which she replied, "Perhaps I crossed a line there, I am sorry."
Knowing that her apology wasn't genuine, I said, "You should be sorry", and hung up.
Cut to my MIL getting a call that my SIL has been hospitalized for high blood pressure and might have a heart attack. My husband got an earful from SIL's husband and now the whole family treats me worse than before. As if I intended to harm her health. AITA?
submitted by ImportanceUnusual887 to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]


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