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deans-mind-palace · 4 years

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Suspirium (Pt.4)

Pairing: Prof!Sam x Reader

Summary: You’re in your last year of your Classics and Mordern Languages studies and you’re majoring in Latin and English. Then you get assigned to a different Latin teacher. And damn, he loves his subject. Too bad that he’s also hot. What is just a childish crush soon develops into something way more complicated.

Word Count: 1,891

Warnings: Latin & Slowburn

Author’s Note: A lot of Latin and Catullus but I wanted you to show Prof Sam’s lectures and the reader’s life besides university. And there’s a surprise at the end. Enjoy.

Suspirium - Masterlist

You slammed your locker shut and hurriedly stuffed the white blouse into the waistband of the black skirt, when the door to the changing room had already been opened. You stood up straight immediately. Chest out and stomach in. You took a deep breath and tried to appear confident, while you were getting ready for a reprimand. A man in a black tuxedo came rushing through the door. "Y/N! Where the hell were you?" The man was a little fatter and his head was all red. His expression was ugly and distorted and he was dabbing the sweat off his forehead with a white cloth from the pocket of his jacket. "François. I am sorry. I really am. I-I lost track of time!" you tried to explain yourself. Your self-confidence was gone. "What is this, Y/N? You work in a star restaurant. I expect discipline. I'm trying to rely on you. Tonight is a night with important guests and I need you. We're behind schedule. The reputation of the restaurant -" the man with the French accent complained. But you already finished his sentence. "depends on each one of us. A grain of sand in the clockwork will stop the whole movement. I know." You knew that speech by heart. Normally you would have taken that motto to heart, but... "Mon dieu." He brushed across his moustache and massaged his temples while his anger subsided. "We'll talk about it later. I need you now. The kitchen is a mess because the food is not being served quickly enough." He pushed the door open and you followed him out into the hall and into the kitchen. There were all kinds of steaming from different pots. Jacques waved a frying pan in which he was flambéing something and blurted orders around. A kitchen boy pushed some plates into your hand in a frightened way. His eyes were wide open and he didn't seem to be used to the harsh tone that prevailed in the kitchen.

He had red hair and countless freckles adorned his face. The plates swayed in his hand and his arms trembled under the weight. You gave him a sympathetic smile and took the plates away. "The roast beef with sesame crust on mango chutney and the sea urchin cores with green asparagus to seventeen. Hop hop!" François directed you out the door and into the dining room. Immediately, the soft murmuring of the guests, the clinking sound of wine glasses being clinked together, the clattering of cutlery on dishes and the gentle tones of the piano floated through the air. With calm and firm steps you brought the food to the white-laid table and set it down in front of a couple wearing chic evening gowns, as is obligatory in this expensive restaurant. With a professional but reserved smile, you silently handed the food as you had learned it, and with an elegant gesture of your hand you poured some water.

It was shortly after one o'clock when, after almost seven hours, you stuffed your skirt into your locker and slipped into your jeans. In one flowing movement you brushed the hair out of your forehead and took a deep breath. Your body ached from a hard day, your head was buzzing and you longed for your bed. Tomorrow you already had a lecture at 9am.

In a hurry you took a look at your mobile phone. You could hear the clinking of plates, which had been washed and dipped into the sink, sounding muffled from the kitchen. Brooks had written to you a few minutes ago. He knew your working schedule by heart and knew that you had just finished. Actually, you were too tired and didn't feel like talking to your best friend on the phone, but you knew the longer you delayed the call, the worse it would get.

Quickly you dialed his number. After the ringing tone he answered immediately. "Hey, Brooks." You had trouble suppressing a hearty yawn. There was not a hint of fatigue in Brooks' voice. "Y/N, what secret are you keeping from me?" he demanded amusedly. Your friend was a man who came straight to the point. You should be fine.

"How was your first lecture with Professor Winchester?" Brooks asked. It took your tired brain a moment to realize that he meant Sam. "The typical introduction. Sam seems nice." You were biting your tongue when his first name left your lips. Brooks, of course, noticed this little detail right away. "Sam, huh?" repeated his name with a smirk, almost as if he had to test it on his tongue first. "Did he offer you his first name because he is so young himself?" the man on the other end of the line asked curiously. This time you couldn't suppress the yawn. "Hmm, exactly." You told Brooks everything he wanted to know about the lecture. After a while, he settled for the information and decided to let you go to bed. The last night bus spat you up a block from your stop and you were glad when you fell into your cuddly bed and could pull the fluffy blanket up to your chin.

The auditorium was already filled with students talking wildly, but Sam hadn't appeared when you sat down. The day before yesterday, right after the first lecture, you had gone to the university bookstore and got the materials he requested. You put Latin for the Illiterati, a dictionary and a small book of poems by Catullus on the table. Your pens and your notebook followed. All heads turned to the door as Professor Winchester entered the room and walked forward with long, determined strides past the filled rows of seats. The red sweater stretched across his sturdy stature and a grey jacket hung over his shoulder. There was silence in the lecture hall as Sam prepared his lecture.

He cleared his throat, which was completely unnecessary as he already had all the attention on him anyway. His gaze glided briefly to you and you gave him a smile. He winked at you in a friendly way before his gaze wandered over the rest of the students. "We will begin today with Catullus." he began today's lecture. Your fellow students listened to him eagerly.

"Who can tell me something about Catullus as a person?" he asked. Immediately your hand shot up. But he called a student a few rows behind you. "Gaius Valerius Catullus was a Roman poet from Verona. He was probably born in the first century B.C. He aspired a political career at first, but he was not satisfied with the opinions of the triumvirate consisting of Caesar, Pompeius and Cato, so he began to write insulting poems about the three great men of Rome." Sam raised his hand and the student stopped his monologue. He cleared his throat again and walked up and down in front of the first row. "Who can tell me when Catullus died?" he asked the next question. Again your hand shot into the air. But again he did not call you. "Whatever dates you wish to give me, ladies and gentlemen, I doubt very much they are correct." You lowered your hand and listened carefully. "For the fact is, we know almost nothing about Catullus' life. We can only make guesses. So who can tell me about Catullus?" He raised his hands in invitation.

"Come on. Call in your answers, don't be shy, pretend we're in the ancient senate of Rome. Do you think it was organized that way? Come on, let me hear you." Your fellow students looked at each other in surprise. For a moment there was hesitation in the air, then they started calling in. "He wrote a life's work of 116 poems." "Catullus admired Sappho." "Exactly. And his best friend was Nepos." "He was also one of the Neotericists." "Not to mention that he died when he was 30. Circumstances unknown." "Nonsense. He died of lovesickness." Sam just nodded, but that sentence made him stop and listen. He lowered his hand, a simple gesture, and the confused cries ebbed away, almost as if he was the fixed star of the lecture hall. He was the sun in your star system and you were just meaningless planets circling around him and drawn to him by higher powers like moths to light.

His gaze wandered over the students, who waited attentively for his next words. He took the thin volume of poetry from the desk and held it in the air. "As mentioned earlier, Catullus wrote 116 carmina." He paused and looked at the book. "Page 38, carmina 85, please." Immediately, the rustling of book pages could be heard. At that unobserved moment, he glanced at you. His hazel eyes pierced yours.

He averted his gaze and raised his voice. Like a Roman rhetorician, he stuck out his chest and began to read the poem with perfect accent. For a moment you thought you were standing on the Forum Romanorum listening to the Roman messenger telling about Caesar's victories.

"Odi et amo. Quare id faciam fortasse requiris. Nescio. Sed fieri sentio et excrucior."

Sam looked up. "Who can translate this for me, please?" Again you raised your hand and this time he noticed. "Ms. L/N. Please do us the honor." "I hate and I love. Wherefore would I do this, perhaps you ask? I do not know. But I feel that it happens and I am tortured." you translated the ancient words fluently. "What do you feel when you read these words?" Sam asked and his eyes were only on you. It felt like for a moment there was just the two of you in this room. The other students around you disappeared. "Pain, unrequited love, despair but also anger," you replied. "Why did he write this?" You took a deep breath. This was your specialty. Now you had the chance to prove yourself. "Most of Catullus' poems are about his love for Lesbia, a married woman with whom he had an affair. The name Lesbia is only a synonym. There are speculations that the beloved is the elder Clodia. She was the wife of a consul. Even though they loved each other, Catullus was not sure of her love. He was torn apart by her failure to return his love unconditionally."

I heard whispers behind me. "Her name was Lesbia! You can see by her name that it was never going to happen." You rolled your eyes, and Sam snorted in amusement. "Well, Mr...?" "Winter, sir." the student helped him. "Mr. Winter. You're not wrong. Homosexuality was not uncommon among the Romans. It was frowned upon, but nobody really cared. Especially the patricians could do what they wanted. But I think that's not true in this case." Sam smiled before he talked to everybody. "Now, I want you all to analyze this poem as homework. Are there any hidden messages? Innuendoes? Stylistic devices? I want to know everything. I want the papers on my desk next week. Good? Then you're dismissed for today."

Sam was standing at your level and you were about to pack when a little note landed on your desk. 4:00pm. My office. S. Surprised, you looked up, but you only caught a glimpse of Sam's fluttering jacket as he disappeared from the lecture hall.

Tags beneath cut. Wanna get tagged? Drop an ask or comment in or add yourself to the Sam taglist with the link in my bio.

Sam Tags: @ashthefirefox @rintheemolion @fortheentries @vexhye @traceyaudette @zeppette @thewintersoldierswife @outofnowhere82

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runabout-river · 4 years

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Chicago P.D./Mayans M.C. crossover Part 1

Thanks for @hardcore-flower who came up with this crossover idea, which I couldn’t stop thinking about the last few days. I love crossovers, though in this case I have to admit that I didn’t actually watch Mayans M.C. but I did watch Sons of Anarchy from start to finish, which is probably the reason why I immediately started daydreaming about this:

(note: unlike with @hardcore-flower ‘s idea, I don’t think Antonio would actually join a criminal gang, I also had background hanktonio planned but in the end I left it out completely, also just the spare backdrop of the Mayans on account of me not knowing the show, also also this got so long that I had to split it into two parts)

Part 1.

The tension between him and Hank was climbing higher and higher though it was obvious that Antonio suffered significantly more under it than his boss. All of their strife came directly from their police work, especially when Hank’s brutality and cover ups escalated again, something that slowly started to bleed into their personal lives. He tried to fight that criminal energy that reared its ugly head every time their job became hard, or when it was just that easy to get away with it, and at first he believed in himself and Hank.

The Intelligence Unit could and should operate lawfully and under public scrutiny but with the way Hank was handling many of their cases it seemed as if he saw himself as the arbiter of the law and the only protector of his sheep, the innocent populace. Antonio believed in law and order and that no one should be above it. Not criminals, not Hank.

He thought it meant something when Hank became the sergeant of the IU and didn’t throw him out immediately. That him trying to have Casey killed really was just a one-time act of temporary desperation and insanity. Later he thought that he could be some kind of counterweight to Hank’s worst ideas and impulses, balancing out the unlawful interrogation techniques by reducing them to a bad cop/good cop routine or just making sure that all the threatened violence really was just for show.

At first it all seemed to work out, at least to an acceptable degree which Antonio could live with. He spent his whole career working in Chicago and as sad as it is to admit but police brutality of varying intensity always existed in the force and Antonio himself ended up being complicit in it, especially in his younger years. But he expected better from the Unit in this day and age and set out to make it so.

It worked for some time but unfortunately just as Hank’s police conduct got worse, Antonio’s resistance and endurance of dealing with it got brutally hit as well. Physically he had to deal with getting shot at for the second time in two years, courtesy of some drug dealers and Pulpo, which later led to being prescribed Oxycodone to deal with the pain. Laura left him on top of that which hit him hard emotionally. Three years into working with Hank and Antonio’s mental wellbeing was suffering which the addiction to his painkillers both helped to alleviate but also made him hurt in other ways.

Then Justin died and everything went from bad to worse. Hank killed his son’s murderer which Antonio confronted him about immediately afterwards. But it was a bad time to oppose the sergeant and Hank made sure that Antonio felt it for the next year. Physically hurting suspects became the norm instead of just an extreme occasion. Even threats against mere witnesses became more and more common and were followed through in more cases than Antonio liked to admit.

And worst of all? The team got turned into Hank’s way thinking, following his orders without doubting them in any meaningful way. Antonio never counted on Erin and Olinsky to rear Hank in but to see the rest of them not only going along but actively participating in illegal interrogation techniques, illegal observation and the kind of brutal police work that would go viral if it were ever recorded on a phone, saddened him to an unimaginable degree. He should have prevented this but obviously he failed.

He should have tried to build some kind unity with the others who were thinking more like him when he had the chance, but Whilhite died and left a gaping hole in Antonio’s heart. Ruzek found his new mentor in Olinsky and Hank fired Sumner at the first excuse. Atwater was more malleable than he thought and Burgess was too eager to serve some kind of justice instead of the right one. Roman was a good police officer but Hank would have never put him into the unit. Mouse, like Jin before him, had not much of a say in the way the unit worked and Nadia would have followed more into Erin’s footsteps than someone else’s. Trudy didn’t work inside the unit but unfortunately she herself had a certain tolerance for Hank’s behaviour as long as she didn’t see it with her own eyes.

Only Jay was his last hope but that hope diminished with every new case. Maybe it was because of Erin or maybe it was Antonio himself who couldn’t keep him in line, but Jay had less and less to say about hitting a suspect one too many times and lying about it later, or about rearranging the scene of a shooting to suit the needs of the IU. He was even passed the point where he either removed himself from the brutal interrogations or watched them silently.

Right now Jay was a willing participant in all of that, ready to excuse anything and everything they did in the name of justice served. Worst of all Antonio could see the guilt in his eyes when he heard those words from him, making him feel bad deep down because he was the one who brought Jay into the team. Jay’s sense of moral integrity seemingly eroded before his eyes and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

And Antonio himself? If he was not getting outright benched for certain raids and suspect retrievals he was sent to other places, far away from whatever fingers were being broken right now. Opposing Hank was unbelievably stressing. Being put into place was humiliating. Reporting the most egregious instances to the higher ups felt more and more like putting his carrier and occasionally even his safety on the line.

His pill problem only got worse because of that. Every back and forth with Hank and every losing argument with his team got so stressing that he took one like a smoker would a cigarette. It was sad and infuriating at the same time, frustrating and heart breaking in equal measure. Sometimes Antonio didn’t know where to put all his emotions or what to do with them deep in the night. When he finally found room to breathe normally again a nagging thought kept him awake, that maybe, maybe he had problems other than just an addiction.

In the end it was fear that slowly started to rule his life, mostly the fear that he might end up like Jay, of surrendering his principles to Hank Voight. When the next case came everything in Antonio’s life seemed to come to a halt. The case was convoluted and a little chaotic, one where you just had to work through tons of witnesses who named more witnesses, where you had to temporarily expand your IT workforce because of the insane amount of data that needed to be analysed.

But the Intelligence Unit had more “efficient” ways to fall back to, direct and critically faster as Ruzek said. Uncompromising police work was necessary as Burgess put it. It came to a point where the team expected everything that came out of Antonio’s mouth to be a critique of some sort and they went the extra mile of shutting him out beforehand. It wasn’t just Hank anymore, it was the whole team this time. He was being excluded on the grounds of not bending the rules and laws to his whim, of not being a criminal with delusions of righteousness. It was devastating.

His last confrontation with Hank went poorly but this one was just plain awful, the backlash more than excessive. It got physical for one, and one of the others was also there to witness it. He tried to get across just how unnecessary any violent action was right now, an ironic statement if there ever was one as he was uncomfortably pressed against a wall at that moment, but his sergeant basically took that as an attack against his character, his authority and even his whole career which he sacrificed so much for.

It ended with him being sent home for the day, an action that mystified Antonio to no end. Why wouldn’t Hank just fire him already if he was just that much of a hindrance to “real police work”, if he was always “guilt tripping” everyone out of “spite”. If they didn’t want him there then they should just throw him out. Vote on that if they have to, hardly anyone would be on his side. So instead of going home he drove back to the station, taking two pills after getting into the car and another one inside the police building.

He went their room up and down for a while, only pushing himself to come to a decision when the arrival of the others became a dreadful possibility. He printed out the resignation form, filled it out and put it on Hank’s desk. Slowly and haltingly his badge and gun followed. Antonio took one last look around the office, swallowed another pill and left while forcing himself not to look back.

(note: I would apreciate it immensely if someone with mother tongue level of english skills could beta for me before I put this on Ao3 :)

#antonio dawson #hank voight #jay halstead #chicago pd #mayans mc #headcanon #police brutality #one chicago

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pearsonclaire1995 · 4 years

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Is Cat Spraying Stunning Cool Tips

Cats do not keep the cats natural gait and its habits for a few of the family, whether that is pretty high, one that comes from the procedure was done later, and ensures that a cat will urinate in the world.Up to one cat to adjust to his tail unchecked, he could spray to leave a litter box with lower urinary tract infection knows that cats market their territory than those caused by stress, boredom, change or illness.Cat training in ten minutes does not like to play with toys.Apparently few owners bother to wake up it's very important.

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#Is Cat Spraying Stunning Cool Tips #Cat Pee Laundry Detergent

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kansascityhappenings · 5 years

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Felicity Huffman gets 14 days in prison in connection with college admission scandal

https://newsource-embed-prd.ns.cnn.com/videos/newsource-video-embed.js

BOSTON — Felicity Huffman will spend 14 days in prison for her role in what authorities have called the largest college admissions scam ever prosecuted.

The “Desperate Housewives” actress also will have to serve one year of probation, perform 250 hours of community service and pay a $30,000 fine as part of the sentence handed down in federal court in Boston on Friday.

Huffman — the first of more than 30 parents charged in the scheme to be sentenced — was accused of paying $15,000 to the scam’s mastermind to boost her daughter’s SAT scores.

She had pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit mail fraud and honest services mail fraud. Her lawyers asked for no jail time, one year of probation, 250 hours of community service and a $20,000 fine.

With her husband and about a dozen other loved ones looking on, Huffman read from a piece of paper and apologized to the judge, her daughters and husband, actor William H. Macy.

“I am deeply ashamed of what I have done,” she told the judge. “At the end of the day I had a choice to make. I could have said, ‘no.’”

Prosecutors had suggested Huffman spend one month in prison and pay a $20,000 fine.

Arguing for time behind bars, Assistant US Attorney Eric Rosen cited a letter Huffman submitted to the judge last week, in which she tried to explain why she participated in the scheme.

Huffman said, in part, that she wanted to give her daughter “a fair shot,” adding she now sees “the irony in that statement.”

“With all due respect to the defendant,” Rosen said, “welcome to parenthood.”

“Most parents have the moral compass and integrity not to step over the line,” he said. “The defendant did not.”

Ultimately, Huffman “knew it was a fraud,” Judge Indira Talwani said, adding, “it was not an impulsive act.”

“Trying to be a good mother doesn’t excuse this,” Talwani said.

Talwani said the sentence she handed down was “the right sentence here,” but also told Huffman that she can “move forward.”

“You can rebuild your life after this,” the judge said. “You’ve paid your dues.”

Huffman will report to prison in six weeks, on October 25. Where she’ll serve her sentence has not been announced and will ultimately be decided by the Bureau of Prisons.

Huffman explains her actions

More than 50 people — parents, coaches, test administrator and conspirators — were charged in the scandal, in which prosecutors said mastermind William “Rick” Singer either facilitated cheating on standardized tests or bribed college coaches to give students an advantage in the admissions process.

Of those charged, more than 30 are parents, accused of conspiring with Singer. More than a dozen of those parents, including Huffman, have pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit fraud.

Only one other person connected to the case has been sentenced: Former Stanford sailing coach John Vandemoer, who served no jail time.

Singer pleaded guilty to four charges in March related to cheating on standardized tests and bribing college coaches and administrators.

In last week’s letter to Talwani, Huffman tried to explain why she felt she had to participate in the scam.

“In my desperation to be a good mother I talked myself into believing that all I was doing was giving my daughter a fair shot,” Huffman said in the three-page letter. “I see the irony in that statement now because what I have done is the opposite of fair. I have broken the law, deceived the educational community, betrayed my daughter and failed my family.”

Huffman has written that before she paid $15,000 to rig her daughter’s SAT test, she worked with Singer’s college counseling and preparation business legitimately for a year to try to improve her eldest daughter’s math SAT scores.

But the scores didn’t improve, and Singer warned her that none of the colleges her daughter was interested in would consider her auditions to their acting programs, Huffman wrote to the judge.

She wrote that Singer eventually offered to have a proctor boost the daughter’s scores after she took the test, without the daughter ever knowing. Huffman struggled with the offer for weeks before relenting, she wrote.

Huffman recalled the moment her daughter “looked at me and asked with tears streaming down her face, ‘Why didn’t you believe in me? Why didn’t you think I could do it on my own?’”

“I had no adequate answer for her,” Huffman wrote.

Prosecutors and the defense differed on sentence length

After Huffman pleaded guilty this year to conspiracy to commit mail fraud and honest services mail fraud, prosecutors, defense attorneys and even US Probation and Pretrial Services officials have been battling over how the mother of two should be punished.

In a motion filed Wednesday, Huffman’s defense team said the government’s sentencing memo cited examples of previous cases that are “very different” than hers, and any comparison is “apples to oranges.”

Huffman’s lawyers argued that the sentencing guidelines in those cases were much higher and reserved for the mastermind of schemes, not mere participants.

Prosecutors, meanwhile, had argued that universities and testing companies were the victims of the schemes, and the amount that parents paid should correspond to the penalties’ severity.

But US Probation and Pretrial Services, which prepares pre-sentence investigation reports for each defendant, has argued overall, that the universities and testing companies suffered no monetary harm, and the price of the parents’ bribes is therefore not relevant to any sentences.

Her loved ones wrote letters of support to the judge

Macy and other loved ones submitted letters to Talwani on Huffman’s behalf, pleading for leniency.

Each letter outlined Huffman’s loyalty and commitment to the writer — an attempt to show her role in the admissions scam was an outlier in her life.

Macy also shed some light on the immediate aftermath of Huffman’s early morning arrest by the FBI in March.

Two days after the arrest, Macy wrote, their eldest daughter was headed for an audition at a school she had her heart set on — one that didn’t require SAT scores. But when she got off the plane, the school emailed her, formally rescinding its audition invitation because of the scandal.

Macy wrote their daughter “called us from the airport in hysterics,” begging them to “do something, please, please do something.”

Macy also said his daughter still was traumatized from watching her mother’s arrest.

Eva Longoria, Huffman’s former “Desperate Housewives” costar, wrote a letter, saying she remembered Huffman always helping with Longoria’s charity aimed at helping poor Latino children.

Longoria specifically cited Huffman’s help during contract negotiations. Longoria was set to be paid less than the other main performers, until Huffman stepped in and made them all negotiate for the same pay, she wrote.

“It wasn’t about the money for me; it was the fact that I was seen as an equal, which is how Felicity had always seen me,” Longoria wrote.

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2019/09/13/felicity-huffman-gets-14-days-in-prison-in-connection-with-college-admission-scandal/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2019/09/13/felicity-huffman-gets-14-days-in-prison-in-connection-with-college-admission-scandal/

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nowhere-herenow · 7 years

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The Way of Agape

Since I haven’t posted anything in a while, I thought I would share the following with you all. This is a sermon that I preached about a month ago at my church. I’ve edited it from its original form to make it more reader friendly. I hope you enjoy it!

In Matthew chapter 18, Jesus shares a parable with His disciples. Starting in verse thirteen, Jesus’ tells of a king who wanted to settle a debt of 10,000 talents with one of his servants. Since this servant couldn’t afford to pay the debt off, the king decided to sell the servant along with his wife and children. Upon hearing the king’s plan, the servant fell to his knees and pleaded with the king to be patient with him saying that he would eventually pay the debt back. The king then decides to have pity on the servant and not only released him, but forgave all his debt.

What was the servant’s response? Almost immediately that same servant goes out and seizes someone that owed him 100 denarii. The servant starts choking the guy demanding that he pay the debt back. Then, when it becomes obvious that he can’t pay the debt, the servant throws the man in jail, apparently having completely forgotten about the mercy that was just shown to him. As one might imagine, word eventually got back to the king about this servant’s ungratefulness, and here’s how the king responds. “Then the master called the servant in. ‘You wicked servant,’ he said, ‘I canceled all that debt of yours because you begged me to. Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?’ In anger his master handed him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed.”

Then, Jesus ends the parable with the following words, “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” (Matthew 18:23-35)

Professionally speaking, I am not a preacher. I haven’t gone to seminary, bible college, or a divinity school. In fact, I still don’t even have a bachelor’s degree. If I’m being honest, I don’t really think of myself as being all that intelligent. I know a lot about a few things, things that interest me, but I know so very little about most things. When people get into conversations about banking, finance, insurance, or even cars the conversation quickly soars way over my head.

Also, I am not perfect. I can be greedy, selfish, and lazy. Sometimes I can be so impatient and get so angry that I cuss and literally throw things, especially when I’m at work. If you truly know me, then you know that I am not at all what someone would consider a saint. In fact, I am a lot like that servant that we read about in Matthew 18.

I could continue to go on and on about my shortcomings and failures, but rather than waste time talking about all those things, all the bad things that I am and the good things that I am not, I want to talk about the only thing about me that truly matters.

I am, above everything else, a child of God, redeemed by the sacrifice of Jesus, and loved by my Creator. All else, all those weaknesses and failures, pale in comparison to that one irrefutable truth, because although my human nature leaves me prone to fall down, to fail, to screw up, to be enticed to sin, and to be led astray from His good and perfect way, He still forgives me.

Isn’t that amazing? Paul said it best, “God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved.” (Ephesians 2:4-5). All God wants from us, which is evident in the parable Jesus tells in Matthew 18, is for us to show His other children, those here on this earth with us, the same love that He shows us every day, and in so doing draw them back to their one and only true Father and Creator; their Abba.

The Apostle John taught us to “love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love.” (1 John 4:7-8). Romans chapter five says that when we accepted Christ’s atonement for our sins God’s love was poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit. We are in turn supposed to radiate that same love given to us in abundance, to not only our fellow believers, but our enemies as well. One of my favorite Christian authors is the late Brennan Manning. He once wrote that, “God calls His children to a countercultural lifestyle of forgiveness in a world that demands an eye for an eye – and worse. But if loving God is the first commandment, and loving our neighbor proves our love for God, and if it is easy to love those who love us, then loving our enemies must be the filial badge that identifies Abba’s children.”

Now, you may not realize this, but that love, shown to us by the Creator, given to us by His Spirit, is not just any old warm fuzzy feel good kind of love. It is agape love. When Jesus says, “love your enemies” and “love one another,” He is referring to agape love. So, what is this agape love?

The Greek word agape, refers to a form of love higher than any other. Agape love is the type of love that God shows us, it’s the type of love that we’re supposed to show God, and here’s the real kicker, it is the same form of love that we are supposed to show the world, and not just those in the world that we like, that we get along with, but ALL of God’s creation! Going back to Matthew 18 we see that God didn’t show us this love through His grace mercy and forgiveness so that we could just hoard it all up for ourselves like greedy spoiled children. He showed us this love so that we would share it with others. And this agape love that we’re supposed to share with the world is unconditional and it is deliberate. It is tangible, visible, and it is sacrificial by nature.

So, what does agape love look like in the real world? It’s going above and beyond to help those in need, and we all have needs. It’s feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, and taking care of the very real and very physical needs of individuals first. It’s sharing with others the same grace mercy and forgiveness that God has shared with us. It’s treating all of God’s children as though they were beloved members of your own family, sacrificing for them just as you would for your own blood.

In its simplest form, agape love can be shaking hands with a stranger or offering them a hug to make them feel welcomed. It can be offering an ear to someone who just needs a friend who’s willing to listen to them. It can be offering someone without transportation a ride, or even offering Godly advice to those in need of assistance. And it can be praying with someone who is going through a difficult time in their life.

These are all tangible expressions of an inward grace, but, of course, agape love is about more than just going through the right motions when you feel like it, or when it’s convenient. In his book ‘Mere Christianity’ C.S. Lewis wrote, “Someone who is not a good tennis player may now and then make a good shot. What you mean by a good player is a man whose eyes and muscles and nerves have been so trained by making innumerable good shots that they can now be relied on.” Agape love requires practice, training, and repetition.

If we’re going to talk about what agape love is, then we must talk about what agape love is not.

Agape love is not bound by fear. The apostle John said in his first epistle; “There is no fear in love. But perfect love (agape love) drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.” (1 John 4:18). It’s obvious that our nation is consumed by fear, obsessed with it even. We live in a place where people are so afraid that they feel the need to carry firearms with them everywhere they go. Whether that’s to the grocery store, a restaurant, or even a parade downtown, this seems to be the way of doing things in our nation today, but it is not God’s way. In a world that’s drunk on terror, say no to fear and yes to the power of God’s agape. Put your faith in God, because where there is genuine faith fear has no foothold and its paralyzing power is diminished. As our Lord said, don’t be afraid of those who can kill the body but cannot kill the soul.

Agape love is not easy. If it were easy then it would be something that we just did naturally, but just take a quick glimpse around at the world we live in and you’ll see that that is not the case at all. In the best-selling book ‘Love Does’ Bob Goff said that “Love is like a sword without a handle and because of that, sometimes we’ll get cut when we pick it up.” When you love others the way He taught us to, you’re bound to get burned, to be rejected, and perhaps even ridiculed, because with agape love you put yourself out there for the sake of others.

Agape love is not egocentric. If you’re looking for prestige, power, or position, then you need to look somewhere else. In fact, I would say that you need to look to another gospel entirely, because the gospel of Jesus is not about any of those things and service to God leaves no room for your ego. At the heart of the way of agape is this truth written by Dietrich Bonhoeffer in the book ‘Life Together’: “If my sinfulness appears to me to be in any way smaller or less detestable in comparison with the sins of others, I am still not recognizing my sinfulness at all. … How can I possibly serve another person in unfeigned humility if I seriously regard his sinfulness as worse than my own?” We are all imperfect sinners, that’s the bottom line. Jesus told us that if you wanted to follow him then you had to die to yourself. Paul taught that we are to “do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but rather, in humility consider others better than ourselves.” (Philippians 2:3-4), and Saint Augustine said, “There can only be two basic loves, the love of God unto the forgetfulness of self, or the love of self unto the forgetfulness of God.” Agape love, loves God unto the forgetfulness of self. There is no other way.

So why all this talk about love? After all, I’m not bringing any new revelation to the table, and I’m not uncovering some new divine secret hidden in scripture. So why yet another article about love?

What are the two greatest commandments according to our Lord? To love God with all your heart, soul, and strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself. According to Jesus, those two commandments are the foundation for everything we do as His disciples. I don’t think anyone would disagree with me on that point, but from the looks of things in this world, in this nation, and indeed even in our churches, I’m not so certain that we have mastered the fundamentals yet. And if we haven’t mastered the fundamentals how can we possibly move on to anything else and expect to be successful at it?

And yet, I fear that we Christians still do not have a firm grasp on how to carry out those two greatest commandments, the fundamentals of our faith. One of my favorite modern-day preachers is Alistair Begg and he once said, “Until the church learns how to cry, the church loses any right to shout. Until we do what we’ve been asked to do we dare not start to do what has been granted to us with no mandate at all.” Do we know how to love our God and our neighbors? Do we know how to love each other? Can we set ourselves aside, swallow our own pride and vanity, humble ourselves, and put our selfish ways on the altar? Jesus knelt down in front of Judas Iscariot submitting Himself to the man He knew would betray Him, and He washed Judas’ dirty, sweaty, feet. Can we do the same for the sake of the gospel, and embrace God’s way of agape?

Will you love others as He loved you? Will you go out today and show this agape love to the wait staff at the restaurant where you eat your lunch, or to the cashier where you buy your groceries, or to the people who sit in the pews next to you on Sunday morning? Will you show God’s agape love to your pastors, who bear not only the burdens of us all but their own burdens as well?

For those of you that are brave and courageous enough to walk away from the way of the world and to embrace God’s countercultural way of agape, may God bless you tremendously in your bold endeavor to be an actual light in this dark world.

#agape #love #god #spirituality #jesus #Christianity #devotional

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djsamaha-blog · 7 years

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Gallatin, Tennessee: The Town That Rose Above Tragedy to Become the Nicest Place in America

Reader's Digest Gallatin, Tennessee Is the Reader's Digest Nicest Place in America 2017 The inspiring story of the kind and caring people of Gallatin, Tennessee. April 6, 2016, James Spray, a white police officer in Gallatin, Tennessee, responded to a call about an eviction going bad. When he got out of the car, he encountered Laronda Sweatt, an African American woman, who was coming at him with a battle axe. He drew his gun as he backed up, shouting at her to drop the weapon. She continued to advance. He continued to retreat until stumbling into another squad car that had pulled up behind him. Back against a wall, he shot twice. She went down. It all happened in 11 seconds. Just 20 months after protests erupted in Ferguson, Missouri over the killing of an unarmed African American man by police, what seemed at first like a similar injustice threatened to tear Gallatin apart. The small city of 40,000 was one of the last to integrate in the South and some of its African American residents, 15 percent of the population, have memories of those dark days. Leaders in the African American community recall a tense mood of sadness, anger, confusion, and questions. They immediately started pressing the police department and city government for answers. “We wanted to know everything from A-to-Z: what happened, why it happened, could it have been avoided, did the officer act improperly and if so what would the consequence be?” said Pastor Derrick Jackson, who leads Gallatin’s First Baptist Church, an African American congregation founded over 150 years ago by an ex-slave. “And we weren’t going to accept what occurred without investigating it ourselves.”

What the investigation revealed is that Gallatin is not like Ferguson. Fast action by the town’s police chief, its mayor and other leaders like Jackson turned what could have been a protest into a prayer vigil. Gallatin considered the incident “prayerfully and proactively,” said Jackson. Nearly 100 residents and community leaders met in July to be together and to pray. Here’s the question: With racial tensions in America higher than they’ve been in decades, with civility in our public square in retreat, how? What makes Gallatin different? The answer stems from the full story of Gallatin, a story that has been years in the making and will restore your faith in America. Gallatin—a town of Southern charm, a town of giving and charity, a town of faith, prayer and an earnest desire to do better—is our Nicest Place in America for 2017. The choir of the First Baptist Church, which was formed more than 150 years ago.

The Story of Gallatin

Founded in 1802, Gallatin is a farm-community-turned-suburb nestled against Old Hickory Lake in the Cumberland River valley. Subdivisions now bloom where crops once grew, ringing an old town square dignified by stately brick buildings and a regal county courthouse. Twenty years ago, it was a sleepy community of under 10,000 residents and downtown businesses worked hard to stay afloat. Now, nearing 40,000, Gallatin’s 30-minute proximity to booming Nashville has given the town new life. Investors have moved in to develop downtown commercial real estate. Houses are springing up almost as fast as people from all over the country can move into them, and a hip new coffee shop in one of the town square’s premier buildings, just renovated to accommodate a wide range of new commercial enterprises, is a symbol of what’s become of this former small town. (Don’t miss these 21 small towns, which are some of the nicest places to visit in the country.)

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Like many towns of its size in the South, smiling and waving to passersby and rolling out the welcome mat to strangers is par for the course. But that’s just a small part of what makes Gallatin the Nicest Place in America. Today, Gallatin is fairly diverse, with about three quarters of the population white, about 15 percent African American, and the rest of mix of Latino, Romanian and Sudanese, the latter a community welcomed in the 1990s when Gallatin High was one of the only in the country to accept the refugees as students, many of them older and lacking in English skills. Fred Bailey (seated) feels the love from Children Are People students.

New People, New Ideas

“Back in the day when I was coming up, it was a ‘know your place’ kinda thing,” said Fred Bailey, the head of a local nonprofit that helps disadvantaged children learn life skills. Bailey grew up as one of 15 children, his parents sharecroppers. He was born blind but went undiagnosed until the third grade. After a career at General Electric and as a wrestling coach, Bailey went on to found Children Are People, which has helped over 600 local children learn to work hard and build their personal characters. “Now you’ve got people moving in here from New York, California, everywhere,” Bailey said, “and they exemplify Martin Luther King’s attitude: judge someone by their character. Gallatin is about that now.” Sons and daughters of the town are making an impact, too. Perhaps none more important than Police Chief Don Bandy. A turning point for Gallatin was 2011, when Bandy was named chief. He replaced a predecessor who believed in policing by numbers and who stepped down shrouded in scandal and under investigation by state authorities. Velma Brinkley, an African American activist and historian, recalls inviting patrol officers to the ribbon cutting for a new business her god-daughter was opening. She was floored when not only did they show up but Bandy came as well. They celebrated the opening of a new hair salon together. “Years past, I would not have invited the police to anything, not to mention to a ribbon-cutting,” said Brinkley. Bandy is hesitant to criticize his predecessor but has a different way of doing things. His strategy is to have his force get to know everyone in the community. “When you make yourself friendly, you have a better chance of making a friend,” he said. “You have to go across the aisle and say, I want you to be part of us and I want to be a part of what you’re doing.” Bandy has his officers attend dozens of local events, and he is adding more every year. When tensions spiked, Mayor Paige Brown, Pastor Derrick Jackson, and Chief Don Bandy (from left) kept the peace.

Tragedy Shows the True Grit of Gallatin

Police work in Gallatin is not all cookouts and basketball games. Sometimes it’s difficult moments, like when Officer James Spray pulled up in his squad car to the house of Laronda Sweatt on April 6, 2016.

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Following the shooting, residents, leaders, and activists were on edge, saddened and angered by the death. The local district attorney immediately opened an investigation. “I called the D.A. and said I wanted to release the video,” Bandy recalled. “He said he wanted to do a press conference and I said, ‘this town can’t wait for that.’” The day following the shooting, Bandy called on the mayor, Paige Brown, and leaders in the African American community to view the footage. He told them that as soon as they saw it, he was going to release it to the public. The raw footage is disturbing and hard to watch. Because it’s from a body cam, it is from your point of view. The 11 heart-pounding seconds have been watched over 100,000 times on YouTube alone. For a community like Gallatin, for America as a whole, there are questions we are still seeking to answer about the injustice of poverty and the difficulty of getting good treatment to mental illness for everyone who needs it. Laronda Sweatt, who had been a nurse and was “the best mother,” according to her daughter, suffered from bipolar disorder and was on medication. But the video and evidence gathered in an investigation following the shooting clearly showed that, in that moment, the police officer served to the best of his ability. Gallatin residents and community leaders, white and African American, who viewed the video all told Reader’s Digest the same thing: the loss of life was heartbreaking, but the police officer did what he had to do in that moment.

The loss of life was heartbreaking, but the police officer did what he had to do in that moment.

What seemed like it might have been an injustice was merely tragedy. In responding to the local district attorney’s decision to not press charges, Chief Bandy channeled the sentiments of the town in The Tennessean, “You still have a family that has lost a loved one you’ve got a police officer that has taken a life in his line of duty. It’s a very tragic and unfortunate incident.” Then the town leaders did the only thing that made sense to them. They had a prayer vigil in the square. Nearly 100 residents, including 20 police officers and nine pastors, five white and four black, gathered to talk and to pray. “Over the last few days, we’ve seen some tragic events unfold that simply devastated us,” said Tiffany Hammock, a Gallatin resident. “As I look into this crowd tonight, I am reminded that we are all called to be builders of our community. We have to start with respect. We all may be different, but we all feel the same—that we need to unite to make our communities safe and productive.” Chief Bandy also spoke. “We’re trying. Are we perfect? No, we’re not. But God has his hand on us, and we’ve got God-fearing people here,” he said. It’s a time and an event that all remember as bringing the town closer together. It was both a symbol of how far Gallatin has come as well as a catalyst for more progress.

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“The prayer vigil brought a sense of peace to the community,” said Onnessia Head, a school teacher in Gallatin and an African American who is also active in the nonprofit community. “Seeing the cam footage, you put yourself in the position of the police officer. You feel for both sides.” In Gallatin, there’s a well-maintained church on every block. Prayer is how this community heals. Recently, Bandy was even asked to preach an hour at one of the African American churches. “There was never a little blue book that told me what steps to take,” said Bandy. “We’re servants and should have a servant’s attitude. That’s what Gshaod asked in the Bible. We’re here to work for these people.” Sounds good, but it’s not just talk. “He’s a product of the community and that makes a difference,” said Head, the school teacher. “His kids go to school with my kids.” Newcomers and natives worked together to revitalize the town square. Clay Haynes (seated) and (from left), Onnessia Head, Velma Brinkley, P.J. Davis.

Charity and Creative Kindness

In addition to Children Are People, Gallatin is a hub of nonprofit and charity work. The town is home to a Shalom Zone, one of 200 in the world and the largest, both by number of organizations served and physical size. The Shalom Zone’s mission is to provide below-market rent for nonprofit offices and meeting spaces. Gallatin’s Shalom Zone is located in what once was a high school reserved for African Americans only. The building no longer served a purpose following forced desegregation in 1971. Gallatin was one of the last places in America to integrate. Where there were once classrooms and teachers’ lounges for a separated and subjugated population now are modestly renovated suites for non-profit workers, volunteers and those they serve. “We acquired this school from the county 10 years ago for $1,” said P.J. Davis, the Shalom Zone’s executive director. “We do career development, we have a mentoring program and we’re a catalyst for other nonprofits in the area. We have 130 on our roster.” A small corner suite serves as the modest headquarters of the Sudanese Youth Connection, an organization that helps the Sudanese community in Gallatin acclimate and get education. Its founder, Tut Rut, has been a Tennessee resident since 1995 when he fled government-sponsored violence in his village. Beneath a poster of Martin Luther King and a small sign that says “Peace,” Rut recalled how attackers burned villagers alive and bayonetted the elders. Gallatin has welcomed the Sudanese. “I’m so blessed,” he said. “The town is very good for us. I don’t see any kind of discrimination. We feel like this is our home now.” Residents who want to help come and go freely. One, Laura Riley, a transplant from New York who was born in Puerto Rico, is working on helping the local Hispanic community. “I wanted to start conversations about a couple of things very important to me,” she said. “Education, nutrition, physical fitness and citizenship.”

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Soon, the Shalom Zone will be able to welcome even more charity under its roof. Only part of the school has been rehabilitated. Studies are now being done on which parts of the building to invest in next. Davis walks the halls with pride, showing off the server room and new linoleum floors in a recently finished suite. A transplant from Akron, Ohio, Davis has pride for the town and how it’s changing. “We’re seeing generational change. The generations are slowly changing,” she said. A local teen generated nationwide media coverage last year when she raised thousands of dollars to make the Christmas wish of a mentally challenged child in the area come true. Gabby Howell, 12, suffers from a rare disease that has limited her capacities and gives her seizures. When asked what she wanted for Christmas, she said, “A real school bus.” Jessi Smith, a student at Gallatin High and a former student of Amy Howell’s, Gabby’s mom, got wind of this and Operation Christmas Bus was born. She raised money to buy an old bus that was rusting out in the woods. Then, with the help of her fellow students as well as folks around town, she renovated it into a playroom and hangout spot that any kid would love. On Christmas Eve, the bus was towed to the Howell’s rural home, with Santa Claus at the wheel. Gabby ran to Santa, saying through tears, “I love you, Santa.” Gabby Howell (in front of the bus), Amy Howell (seated, below) and Jessi Smith (seated, on the bus) with the Operation Christmas Bus crew The teens visit the bus regularly, checking in on things that need fixing, improvements that can be made, and spending time playing with Gabby. “It was just so sweet,” said Gabby’s mother. “To see that they want to give back like that—they don’t want to do it for the glory. They want to do it because they love you.” (Read up on 21 other random acts of kindness that will truly warm your heart.) This is all part of the new Gallatin, according to Mayor Brown, who nominated Gallatin for Nicest Place in America. Acts of kindness are the norm, she says. For instance, when a beloved local pastor was stricken with cancer, residents raised thousands of dollars. When area charities need transportation, a local business owner lends them the busses he rents to Nashville stars. Today, Gallatin is a community that everyone takes pride in like never before. Police Chief Bandy has spent his whole life in Gallatin and he worries every day about living up to the pride of his neighbors. “Being a part of this community, growing up in it, I don’t want to let the citizens down,” he said. With Gallatin and its new wave, “it’s like night and day,” said Pastor Jackson, adding, “the beauty about Gallatin is that there is an attempt to do what others feel is impossible.” Bill Hangley contributed to the reporting of this story. Read more at Reader's Digest

http://www.successwize.com/?p=2110

#culture #inspiration #inspiringstories #nicest

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shannaraisles · 7 years

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Set In Darkness

Chapter: 29 Author name: ShannaraIsles Rating: M Warnings: Canon-typical threat and violence; unpopular characterisation of an NPC Summary: She’s a Modern Girl in Thedas, but it isn’t what she wanted. There’s a scary dose of reality as soon as she arrives. It isn’t her story. People get hurt here; people die here, and there’s no option to reload if you make a bad decision. So what’s stopping her from plunging head first into the Void at the drop of a hat?

For Which A Title Did Not Present Itself

"I actually have no idea if the compound will be stable in storage - the mixture could become highly volatile if left too long."

Rory nodded as Minaeve spoke. "So this is something we should be making fresh each time it needs to be applied?" she queried curiously.

"It's not ideal, I know," the elven researcher told her. "But the consensus among the Tranquil is that this may be the only way to neutralize the toxin that the greater shades secrete."

"Well, it's infinitely better than watching someone die in horrific pain," Rory mused, blotting her notes to roll them up. She enjoyed her regular meetings with Minaeve; the novice mage might be caustic, but she definitely knew her stuff. "Did the witherstalk ointment help with the chemical burns?"

"Oh, it did," Minaeve agreed, with the merest suggestion of a satisfied smile. "We added a drop of ram's blood, and that accelerated the pain-relieving aspect. Strange, but effective."

"I never would have thought to add blood," Rory admitted, fascinated by this previously unknown combination. "Another odd ingredient to keep in stock."

"Don't buy it from Seggrit," the researched warned suspiciously. "Half of what he supplied at the beginning was useless."

"No fear of that." Rory laughed. "He won't even acknowledge my presence since I slapped him."

Minaeve's lips pulled taut in a rare smile. "I'm still sorry I missed that. Was there anything else you needed?"

Rory shook her head with a smile of her own. "No, I'll let you get back to work. Thank you."

"It's what I'm here for, healer."

Tucking the scroll up her sleeve for now, Rory nodded to Josephine as she left the room, stepping into the nave of the Chantry to find Chancellor Roderick in full oration. The subject wasn't immediately clear, but the man seemed to have gathered specific people to hear him speak this time. Cullen was there, as was Leliana, both looking as though they would dearly like to shut the chancellor's mouth in a less than polite manner; Mother Giselle was also present, together with Sisters Teres and Minah. No doubt Vivienne was lurking in her alcove, listening with interest.

"I find it fascinating, chancellor," Leliana was saying, "that you chose to bring this up when both Cassandra and the Herald are away from Haven."

"I cannot predict when the evidence will be brought to me," Roderick replied in his officious way. "Nor can I stand by and do nothing when such evidence is presented."

"The Chantry does not have authority over the Inquisition," Cullen reminded him yet again. "You have no power here to accuse one of our own."

"With respect, commander, yours is not an impartial voice in this debate," Mother Giselle interjected mildly.

"Perhaps we should worry less about partiality, and instead invite the one whom you have accused to speak for herself," Leliana suggested, her pale eyes rising from the little gathering. "Healer Rory ... join us, please."

Alarm flared in Rory's mind as she automatically moved to obey the Left Hand of the Divine. Accused? What have I been accused of? She could think of any number of things that had rubbed people up the wrong way, but she was pretty sure she hadn't done anything major enough to warrant officially sanctioned Chantry hostility. Unless all of it put together somehow made her a threat.

"Chancellor Roderick, everyone should have the right to defend themselves," Leliana went on. "This is your opportunity to see if your evidence holds water."

Scowling, Roderick turned his stern gaze onto Rory. "You stand accused in the Maker's eyes of heresy, healer," he said with a flourish. "Were this a court of law, how would you plead?"

Rory stared at him, her mouth open. That certainly hadn't been on her list of things to worry about. Heresy? Seriously? That was surely scraping the bottom of the barrel. Her mouth shut with a snap. "Not applicable," she told him firmly. "Who accused me?"

"There is no need for you to know such a thing," the chancellor informed her, but Leliana ignored him.

"Mother Giselle and her lay sisters here have laid the charge against you," the spymaster said calmly.

"Did they really." Rory's unfriendly gaze turned to take in the three robed women. "So I've been accused of heresy by a revered mother who objects to my refusal to bow to her every whim; a sister who makes a habit of trying to steal confidential notes from my clinic; and another sister who almost killed someone three days ago because she decided she knew better than me how much medicine to give someone. Three people, in fact, who don't like me. And their word is considered evidence against me?"

"The word of any member of the Chantry is ..." Roderick trailed off as his brain caught up with his ears, aghast eyes snapping toward the lay sisters. "Almost killed someone?"

Giselle, too, had twisted to look at Sister Minah. "I was not aware of this."

"No one was," Rory said, her voice cold with anger. "Because we were able to correct the mistake, and the sister seemed willing to absorb the lesson it taught her. Evidently my trust was poorly placed."

"Is this true, Minah?" Giselle asked of her inferior coolly.

Sister Minah fidgeted awkwardly. "I ... made a mistake," she admitted finally. "But my report was accurate, mother!"

"Yet by omitting important detail, you render your evidence untrustworthy," Roderick glowered in annoyance. "Even I know that certain violence is required to purge a stomach. Your tale, sister, is inadmissible."

"As to the words of Sister Teres, I can confirm the healer's suspicion," Leliana added with cool confidence. "The sister has been seen several times attempting to break into the chest where the healer keeps her confidential notes on us all."

Roderick didn't need to let that sink in - he'd been treated not too long ago for a somewhat embarrassing complaint of his own. He knew Rory had notes on him in that chest. "This is your evidence, mother Giselle?" he asked sternly. "The word of a thief and a would-be killer?"

"I stand by my own testimony, chancellor," Giselle stated, her lined face set in what might almost have been anger at the way her seemingly solid accusation had crumbled around her. All credit to her, though, she kept on her course. "This woman is a heretic. She does not sing the Chant, nor does she attend services. She does not pray, even if her patients would benefit from it. She does not show deference to the Chantry, or to Andraste's holy representatives."

"The Chantry has done nothing to earn my deference," Rory heard herself snarl, flaming anger rising to replace the cold at this self-serving accusation.

"You accuse her of being a heretic, yet nothing you say points toward heresy," Cullen pointed out, his expression grim. "All I hear is the false accusation of a woman who believes herself superior."

"Your opinion of this woman cannot be trusted." Giselle frowned at the commander. "Your attachment to her could implicate you in her wrongdoing."

"And your attack is nothing but the spiteful vengeance of a woman who isn't used to not getting her own way," Cullen countered smartly.

"Enough!" Roderick glared at them both until they backed down. His frowning gaze found Rory. "Healer, we can settle this with one question ... do you believe in the Maker?"

She met his gaze in silent fury at the way ego had been allowed to put her in this situation. Her religious belief, or lack of it, was no one's business but her own. "No, chancellor, I don't," she told him fiercely. "I don't believe in the Maker, the elvhen gods, the Stone, or even Koslun."

"Then you are no heretic. There cannot be heresy without belief." He sighed, shaking his head. "There is no point in pursuing this."

"And you would trust such a person with the well-being of the people?" Giselle demanded incredulously, clearly not prepared to just let it go. "A person with no spiritual element to their being is unfit to be a healer."

"Better an atheist who knows what she's doing than a fanatic who doses weak men with four mouthfuls of undiluted poppy juice!" Rory shot back at her, unwilling to let that insult pass.

"I demand to know why you have no belief in the most Holy of Holies," Giselle persisted, looming over the healer as she took a step closer. "Why you think yourself above such a fundamental truth as the Maker's love for Andraste and us all."

Cornered and angry, something in Rory cracked. "Because unreasoning belief in a higher power killed my little brother!" she snapped in response. "He was ten years old - a cut on his leg got infected, and prayer, the only thing my parents would give him, didn't save his life. Why should I believe in a being who keeps his followers ignorant and condemns a child to a needless, painful death?"

Giselle stared at her, all her high dudgeon fled in the face of the answer she had sought. She had clearly been expecting some other reply - an evasion, perhaps, or even a selfish declaration that gods weren't real. But no ... Rory had good reason not to believe. She glared at the Revered Mother, furious with herself for the tears in her eyes, her heart rubbed raw by the memory she'd been forced to share. How dare they assume her reasons were selfish ones, just because they had a faith she lacked?

She turned to Cullen and Leliana, both of whom seemed shocked by what she'd been badgered into sharing.

"I want the Chantry out of my clinic," she told them harshly. "They can't be trusted."

"You are not in a position to make such demands," Roderick blustered, but abruptly stilled when Cullen rounded on him.

"You have abused your position, chancellor, by allowing this farce to go on for so long," the commander growled. "This has been nothing less than a sustained personal attack. I will be placing a guard on the clinic. No member of the Chantry will be allowed entry without invitation by the healers themselves. This has gone on long enough."

"Indeed," Leliana agreed coldly. "We are done here. Mother Giselle; Sisters Teres, Minah ... a word."

Steaming with unexpressed anger she had been holding onto for more than a decade, Rory turned on her heel, storming toward the doors that lead out into the village. They opened before her - thank you, Vivienne - and she continued out into Haven, her fists clenched and her expression black.

How dare they? How dare they think they were better than her, just because they believed? Her parents had believed, too - believed so much that they had watched their son die for lack of medical care and called it divine will. Her refusal to accept that had turned them against her; it was the reason, in fact, that she'd run away at fourteen. And she'd slowly come to terms with the understanding that faith was a comfort to many people, learning not to judge them badly for it. Yet these so-called priests, so certain in their faith ... She didn't even have words for them. They truly thought themselves her betters, when most of them wouldn't even raise a hand to help if someone collapsed in front of them. It was infuriating. How could they possibly put themselves on a par with Sister Carys in Frosthelm, or Mother Lisl, or Divine Justinia - all truer representatives of Andraste the Maker than those power-hungry wolves.

Evy took one look at her expression when she entered the clinic, and wisely decided not to ask what was wrong. Anger like that was not to be prodded, certainly not in front of patient. She simply kept her head down and applied herself to her duties, not even speaking up when Rory shut the door on Cullen's attempt to cajole her out of her black mood. Suffice it to say, it was not a comfortable afternoon for either healer. Yet dinnertime brought a surprise.

Rory had sent Evy to dinner, still too worked up herself to eat. Alone in the clinic with two sleeping patients, she was startled when the door opened to admit Cullen, Fabian, and four others she didn't know.

"What's going on?" she demanded, her voice hushed to avoid disturbing her patients.

"You're taking the night off, I'm training some nurses for you," Fabian told her promptly. "This is Netta, Luis, Andra, and Melcor, and by morning, you'll have a rota in place that keeps you and Evy from falling off your feet."

"Now wait just a min- "

"You missed dinner, again," Cullen told her sternly. "I will not allow that to become a habit. Now, are you walking, or am I carrying you?"

Rory frowned at him, not appreciating the way she was being steamrollered. "I'm not leaving the clinic, I have too much to -"

"Carrying it is." In one smooth motion, Cullen bent and hoisted her over his shoulder, turning to make his way out of the clinic even as she flailed.

"Put me down," Rory demanded, her banked anger flaring as they passed the tavern and she caught sight of Varric's grin. "I mean it, Cullen, put me down!"

"No." That was it, just no. No explanation of why, or even where he was taking her, though that much was easily discernible when he turned right out of Haven and joined the path into the woods.

"This is humiliating," she informed him tartly, her breathing a little constricted by the press of his shoulder into her diaphragm.

"You're not fighting to get down," he pointed out with annoying confidence.

"What's the point?" she countered, her own tone resigned. "It's a long way to fall from up here, and knowing my luck, I'd break something important. Like your neck."

"Your concern is overwhelming."

Ducking to get into the cabin, he locked the door before bending to set her on her feet, looking long into her eyes with a serious gaze. Whatever he saw there seemed to satisfy him, because he turned her about, giving her a push toward a table in front of the fire laid with a plated meal.

"Sit. Eat."

In sullen acquiescence, she did as she was told, eating the plate of roasted meat and vegetables in silence. All the while, he watched her, not saying a word himself. Part of her resented the heavy-handed coddling; part of her appreciated that he seemed to know her so well. She was quite capable of skipping several meals when her mood was this low, and it was strangely reassuring to know that Cullen clearly wasn't going to let that happen. He made sure her cup stayed full, only moving to sit beside her when she had finished every morsel and sat in steaming silence in the firelight.

"Now," he said quietly, in a tone that brooked no argument. "Talk to me."

#set in darkness #multi-chapter fic #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #mgit #cullen rutherford/original female character #cullen rutherford/rory allen #rory allen #mother giselle #chancellor roderick #leliana #cullen rutherford #minaeve #random chantry sister #times two #unpopular characterisation of giselle #i needed someone to spark conflict #if you get aggressive with me #i will block you

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