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y-rhywbeth2 · 5 months

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Gods & Clergy: Bane #2

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

Apparently, they are a beautiful combination of every dictatorship ever with some flavouring from the fucking mafia. They also sort-of have a Pope, and sometimes papal schisms.

Social Darwinism for everybody! And remember, Bane is always watching you - do not make him get involved, kiddies.

Can these people get any more delightful??

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"The world is made stronger by mighty and ordered rule, with the ruled made to fear their rulers and to hate common foes. Weakness and frivolity should be publicly destroyed for all to see and heed. Good is but a shelter for weakness and the whims of those who profess noble goals. Evil is the true state of nature, for winning is everything, and oppression is natural. Fight against good, and exalt evil. Tyrannize and destroy the weak, so that all in time become better and stronger, everyone knowing their place and not daring to question or foment disorder. "Be a tyrant. Make others fear and hate you, but awaken in them hatred of others. Aid tyrants and oppressors, but if they disagree with you or fellow Dark Hands (clergy of Bane) over policy, or turn back from tyranny or oppressing others, shatter them. We are the forge that tempers rulers, to make them ever harder, stronger, and more evil. Laws and rules, not wanton chaos, should reign. Eliminate lawbreakers. Kill or thwart a good creature every day (kill is better). Bring down arbitrary law keepers, and aid the brutally law-abiding. Make others fear Bane—and fear you—whenever possible." - Yet more Banite dogma

Good is evil, and Evil is good. Good is a lie, and Evil is the truth. The one thing all Banites agree on is that implementing Bane's rule is the only good option for the world.

Banite teaching is clear that a world of firm laws and an orderly society is the only acceptable world to live in. Chaos exists only as a tool to achieve this, and is otherwise sinful. This ideal lawful and regimented society will, naturally, be a surveillance state. The overabundance of divination spells and artefacts used for monitoring thought crimes, and the rank "inquisitor," don't exist in the church for nothing.

Society will be made better when the weakness is purged. By punishing the weak, one of two things will happen; they will break, and either clear the way for the strong, or they will take on the hatred and use it to make themselves stronger.

Dissenting opinion is bad, it breeds chaos and undermines order - and Banites are quite firm in their opinion that nobody else is governing their lands properly.

Under Banite rule, people suddenly "going missing" is just a fact of life. Sometimes they turn up a little worse for wear and/or with a mysterious new personality. Often they're just not coming back.

The good news is that since the death of the last High Imperceptor in recent years, the church hierarchy has apparently fallen apart again!

Banites are no longer quite so united by one long, globe-spanning chain of command and are all splintered into factions, backstabbing each other and fighting over which leader's vision and right to lead is greater than the others'. The lower ranks scheme to take the place of their hated superiors, even as they bow and scrape and dance perfectly to the tune of every command.

Bane is willing to tolerate this to a limited degree, because it keeps his higher ranked followers from abusing their authority for personal gain if the lower ranks have space to undermine them when they're unworthy. A "healthy" amount of infighting will cull the weak and ensure he only has the strongest followers.

There are limits though; start rocking the boat too much and Bane will personally smite you dead in front of everyone to make a point.

The Dark One watches his clergy, keeping an eye on those with potential rising through the ranks, and those whose behaviours are a little erratic for his liking. He's known for speaking directly into their minds, or the minds of the followers around them. Although sometimes he turns away to focus on something beyond mortal ken, which can last years, which is when the infighting tends to get really bad. Elminster likens it to unsupervised rats in a cage, gnawing on each other in frustration.

A Banite who shows signs of weakness and "wavering faith" will be demoted... if they're lucky. Other possible fates include the standard Banite fare of maiming and potential death.

Banites in favour with their deity and superiors will enjoy luxury and promotions: Having fun is allowed as a reward for being a good servant, but is not something you're allowed to take for granted. That's "frivolity" and will breed weakness.

The church mostly gets things done nowadays simply because the lowest ranks of the clergy usually attach themselves to some charismatic mid-higher rank, becoming their obedient and fawning slaves in the hopes that by helping them rise in the ranks their superior will elevate them too. Through this, teamwork is achieved and shit gets done. In the higher ranks, where everybody's too afraid of losing their hard won power, this cooperation tends to die.

The head of a region's Banites is the Inquisitor, all of whom answer to the High Inquisior, who is regarded much like the Pope is by Catholics on Earth. Sometimes the High Inquisitor isn't providing their role as arbiter of Bane's divine will on Toril right, and one or more other Banites make the case for themselves as Bane's real High Inquisitor and schisms result with all the usual drama.

When Banites of equal rank clash on something, technically the deciding factor in who gets the final say is supposed to be who has the highest levels in the cleric class (and thus their higher personal status with Bane). If it's equal, then it comes down to who has the highest influence/reputation amongst the other Banites. Ultimately though, the biggest factor is actually which of them their regional leader likes best (you're either in favour, or out).

Particularly within urban areas, Banites are usually hidden kingpins and crime bosses, working from the shadows. Those who seek power and influence may always turn to the followers of the Black Hand for aid; they are always happy to make friends and lend favours. You want to win the next guild election? You want to be governor? They can do that for you. They will employ bribery, kidnappings, blackmails, arrange assassinations, whatever it takes to get you in power. And then you will have that position you wanted, and you will owe it all to the Church of Bane, and to Bane himself, as their loyal puppet. You will obey every edict of Bane as yet another link in his chains. You will know that they did this for you, that they can do all this to you, and that everybody will know this should you go back on your end of the bargain.

The people who serve those people will also serve Bane, unknowingly. Eventually the entire city will serve, never realising who rules them, until one day the Banites' hold over the region is so ironclad that when they step forward to rule openly, and there is nothing anyone can do about it.

Banite infiltrations are highly organised, and are likened covert military operations, with the leaders given their tasks directly from Bane.

Through these methods, the Church takes over businesses, governments and even entire noble families.

Businesses are of particular interest, as Banites will seek to establish at least some degree of control over regional trade - especially contraband and other illegal businesses, and especially the trade of weapons and slaves. The money they make from this will go towards both the church and their own personal funds.

Few Banites are comfortable openly taking positions of power for themselves until they are certain that it is safe to do so. There's also that little drawback where your siblings in the faith will watch you carefully while holding their breath for a while, to see if you're as secure in your power as you seem to be - and then there's a target on your back because they all want your power for themselves.

Despite losing control, it seems some Banite presence lingers amongst the Zhentarim, where the divide between the cleric-based Orthodoxy and the reformist wizards lives on. The simmering tensions and would-be civil war are held in check only by the presence of beholderkin who will make an example of any idiots that try anything. Bane has no particular interest in seeing his clerics and mages fighting each other, and in most Banite circles the schism has died down. Some of them are even friends and "companions."

(Yes, even Banites have friends. Mr "frivolity should be publicly destroyed - make others fear and hate you" doesn't necessarily approve, but his followers are still only human[oid].)

"…Bane is rash, impetuous, and arrogant. He’s no patient, long-term schemer, but lives in the present moment (he wants results NOW). And his pride often makes him over-estimate his own prowess, and ignore his own faults." - Ed Greenwood

Going by some lore; Bane is also an unwitting puppet of Jergal (who is The long-term schemer), intended for one of the older deity's infinite supply of schemes - although his strings are not currently being pulled. He is the dead soul of a mortal man, imbued with divine essence and Jergal's portfolio of Tyranny. "Jergal [on his end] has no intention of treating Bane like a puppet until he has to."

Bane died long before the Three reached Jergal, and the god "stored" his soul away, recognising a similar "quenchless hunger to rule all, and be feared by all through the maliciousness and malevolent [attentiveness] of his rule."

Bane's memory of this has been removed by the Forgotten One, and he wouldn't believe you if you told him so. Whether the other two have had their memories so edited is unknown, but possible.

His original, pre-Time of Troubles holy symbol was intended to be a severed hand in a spiked black gauntlet, dripping blood from the stump (the middle droplet being the longest). The presumed reason for it not appearing in official Realms products is wariness of the Satanic Panic leading to its censorship.

#I think that's mostly it #I left out some stuff about the Baneliches and the origins of the Cult of the Dragon. but they're not important #THIS BETTER BE IT #Update: this was not all of it #the idiot three #enver gortash #long post

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mollysunder · 10 months

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Ekko, Jinx, & Viktor: How Do They Carry the Legacy of Their Mentors

Zaun’s three most prominent minds, Ekko, Jinx, and Viktor, have been, or soon will be, cross a threshold they can never turn back from paths once Jinx’s rockets hits the council. Zaun and Piltover will never be the same, neither will the characters. It’s already been stated that the cast will likely become the opposite of who they were during the first season. And I don't think it was supposed to mean a personality flip, it's just the emphasis of traits that were more in the background in the first season, but under these new conditions become more prominent. Everyone on the show has a strong enough character that you can see the wires that make them run and the connections that keep them going. I think the best way to understand where they are going forward is to look at the mentor figures that are or had laid their foundations for them.

Jinx & Silco

They’re the easiest to start with. Jinx and Silco had one of the most complex relationships within the first season. They came together out of a desperation for connection and comfort based on the shared trauma of abandonment, and together they became a family. Silco saw so much of himself in Jinx that he thought he could help her the way he helped himself after Vander’s betrayal. He gave her resources for her weapons projects, he taught her to be vicious like he was, trusted her to understand and handle his special operations, and he gave Jinx the love and validation she constantly sought. No one can argue that they didn’t love each other deeply, he just helped her like he helped Zaun, in a way that hurt her.

The root of their toxicity (outside of the violence and murder that permeates their circumstances) is the that fact Silco treated Jinx like he treated himself. Jinx is an entirely separate person from Silco, with her own set sensitivities and struggles with mental illness. On top of that no matter how often he evangelizes the success of his choice to sever the bonds of his past he couldn’t do it either, he still struggled. Despite Silco and Jinx’s volatility, Silco still chose Jinx over Zaun, not the idea of Jinx with all of the weakness of Powder gone, just her. Silco gave up his future for Zaun for Jinx’s life to be as she is. Upon Silco’s death Jinx, by herself, chose to definitively end any intrigue or negotiation that would be in the way of Zaun’s creation.

Jinx chose to carry on with Silco’s dream, not the way he would have done it, just in her own way. Now Jinx is alone, at least emotionally, and she’s left with Silco’s shimmer empire, his associates, pissed off chembarons, soon to be pissed of Piltovans, enforcers, Sevika, firelights, Caitlyn, her sister and probably Noxian interlopers (maybe even Ionians too) on her case. But if every major character will appear the opposite, Jinx will probably be able to handle it.

Throughout the first season Jinx was struggled to gain the approval of the ones she loved most, and it kept her interactions insulated to a small circle of people. But now Silco's dead and Jinx’s decided who she is, and that means it's going brutal for literally everyone else. The brief times Jinx is around people she doesn't care about she easily overwhelms them every time, not even physically in Thieram's case. Silco even took cues from her to whip the chembarons away from Finn's attempt to foment dissent. When that scene happened I took it to mean, Silco learned from Jinx as much she learned from learned from him how to manipulate and terrorize people.

Without her struggle for acceptance after recieving full validation, Jinx's left with just herself and what she and Silco built together. Jinx already took the first shot, she knew her actions would lead to at least open conflict. She's going to make Zaun happen through her own more violent means. Jinx already knows most of the ropes. I honestly think it’ll be a 50/50 split between chembarons who want to kill her vs chembarons who think she’d be too much trouble to kill and easier to manipulate. If she really internalized what Silco taught her she can whip them into the shape she wants, it just won’t be easy.

Viktor & Singed

In their first meeting Singed recognize Viktor’s engineering prowess and social isolation and decided to have him work as an assistant. Their relationship breaks down as a young Viktor becomes horrified at the suffering Singed’s experiment causes on Rio. When Viktor returns to Singed’s lab desperate for help as he runs out of time, we as the audience recognize in their exchange that Viktor is going down a similar path that Singed did.

All we know in the Arcane universe about Singed is that he was once a scholar at Piltover academy, he and Heimerdinger were colleagues, and he had a daughter. We know that his experiments caused him to be ostracized from Piltover’s academic community for likely violating the Ethos. But with the existence of his daughter (hinted at being Orianna), we have to speculate how these factors played into his fall from grace. When did his research take priority over the suffering it caused? Shimmer certainly helps as a restricted medicine, but he doesn't care about the "side effects". Was he in a position where his work saved his daughter, but the decision destroyed his reputation? Does he believe that his work will unlock some new breakthrough of human understanding? Was it arrogance? Pure curiosity? Who really knows. What we do know is that Viktor could put himself in harms way, but in the case of Sky, could not sacrifice others.

And that's the thing about Viktor, he's willing to help himself at his at his own expense, but not at the cost of others. He genuinely wants to use Hextech to help others, but with his limited time left he realized how little he's managed to accomplish in Piltover, and when he does do something it's diminished (Heimerdinger). Viktor has achieved so much and helped so little with the Hextech he and Jayce created. And this must all eat at him because his ability to create things for himself and others is where he derives most of his self-esteem, his one true source of pride. Viktor may be the introverted one of the Hextech pair but his self-imposed restraint from attention is learned. He knows what people see when they look at him, worse so in Piltover. It's only when he's in his element is he willing to expose himself to others, it's how he was willing to partner with Jayce.

In the aftermath of Jinx's rocket, Piltover won't be hospitable to him any longer. Once his research on the Hexcore and dabblings in Shimmer come to light he will be cast out of Piltover (if they don't send him to Stillwater first). He wanted save himself with the Hexcore, in trying he killed Sky, and yet he couldn't destroy it after she died. He chose to attempt suicide, but he couldn't destroy his own work, because it's such a fundamental part of him. Viktor can only find justification in keeping his work alive, and he will in Zaun, where he will meet those suffering from injury and illness from Piltover's exploitation. The border between Viktor's conviction to help other vs how his engineering prowess makes up his sense of self worth will blur as he realizes he can help more people if he just keeps pushing. From what I understand the Machine Herald takes on prophet-like status within Zaunite cults, that Viktor does and does not embrace at times. He will push past a point of no return, he'll just do it with the greater good in his mind.

Ekko & Heimerdinger

These two are the latest arrivals. Honestly, they’re the oddest pair. A former Piltovan councilman and a young Zaunite community leader working together and learning from each other. Two people who helped create something amazing in the face of a crisis, Heimerdinger built Piltover to escape the Rune Wars, while Ekko founded the Firelights as a refuge from the Shimmer epidemic. Heimerdinger and Ekko meet because Heimerdinger’s been ejected from the council and has decided to finally visit the neglected half of the city he co-founded. He meets an injured Ekko by chance and helps him back to the Firelight’s Hideout where he’s amazed at what they were capable of building for themselves. It’s supposed to represent Ekko finding a new ally as connects with people who want to help Piltover and Zaun, while Heimerdinger is righting wrongs working with people in Zaun to hopefully improve things.

Even though we see that Ekko has managed to become a leader to a close knit and dedicated community, he’s had to grow up abruptly to meet the brutality of Silco’s reign. Despite having a community of his peers, based on his reaction to Vi’s hug, he hasn’t been able to find comfort and support in an adult figure in a long time. In theory someone like Heimerdinger, who’s persona screams gradfatherly figure, could be a source of emotional support that he’s been missing for so long (depending if his biological parents alive, the status of which is apparently a spoiler). But the glaring flaw in that idea is that Heimerdinger has consistently failed people throughout the story.

If we can briefly sidestep the way Heimerdinger’s leadership over 200 years has led to rampant inequality and a militarized police force meant to harass half of his city’s inhabitants, there’d still be Viktor. Sure Heimerdinger gave Viktor the position as his assistant at the prestigous Piltover Academy, but Viktor not only earned it, but was frustrated with it. Heimerdinger wasn't offering Viktor him new opportunities, just the frustration of administrative work. They likely knew each other for years, so when Viktor diagnosis gave him less than a year left, how does he comfort him. By telling him he won't be remembered after putting the breaks on his projects meant to help the half the side of the city constantly being poisoned like Viktor was.

We know characters will change next season so I can see Heimerdinger realizing he could do more for the people of Zaun with Ekko's help and understand urgency over caution more. I can see Ekko finding an adult to finally let in and help him. I can see it because Arcane as a series doesn't seem to investigate the power dynamics between Piltover and Zaun too deeply. Maybe Heimerdinger will offer him and all his friends admission into Piltover Academy to keep them safe, and he'll refuse for himself similar to his League origin story. Heimerdinger would still think that Piltover and Zaun could remain united through some flexible compromise, because he never looks at the root of the problem, which is Piltover.

Some theorize that when characters complete their arc, that's when they’re most likely to die. In Arcane, the most dangerous position to be in is when you care about someone and try to do the right thing, this show loves to kill characters for that. Ekko out of everyone is the one with the most to lose, especially people, so for him to vulnerable in this next season would lead to disaster. Ekko was already shot in the chest by Marcus after listening to Caitlyn and nearly blown up to save her and Vi. Then led Heimerdinger, a well known councilman, to his hideout. Frankly, it's in Ekko' best interest to distance himself from Heimerdinger because memories run long and resentment goes higher for Piltover, especially once they retaliate against Zaun. If it gets out Ekko has been surrounding himself with enforcers, a former councilman, a future councilman (Caitlyn), and a snitch (Vi), he's going to put his community at risk. Every time someone from Zaun tries to work with Piltover it's a disaster for the Zaunite, look at Vander and Silco. If he's going to risk himself and his community the consequences shouldn't be so one-sided. If Ekko is to survive next season either he needs to reject Heimerdinger’s ways or Heimerdinger has to change for Ekko to help Zaun for the better.

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humanrightsupdates · 7 months

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Peacefully protesting against injustice in Israel/OPT is not a threat to security

Speaking out against injustice or joining a solidarity march are some of the few tools we – as peoples around the world – have available to try and effect change. Without the right to publicly and peacefully protest – to share messages on social media, write letters and sign petitions – people are silenced.

And yet, over the last month, moves by several European governments to curb expression and protest in response to the unprecedented violence in Israel and the Occupied Palestinian Territories appear designed to do just that: stifle dissent, deny collective grief, foment fear of raising one’s voice and create a “chilling effect” that threatens to stop speech cold.

Authorities in a number of European states have banned Palestinian solidarity protests and harassed and arrested people for expressing – in public and online – support for Palestinians’ rights. Some governments have threatened to shutter organisations and groups that advocate for human rights for Palestinians and to block funding for Palestinian, Israeli and regional human rights organizations.

Foreign nationals have been warned that they might be deported for expressing “radical ideologies” and authorities have supported measures by employers to sack people who speak up on behalf of Palestinians. Schools, colleges and universities have been encouraged to be on high alert for signs of so-called “extremism” in the speech of their students.

Initially claiming that restrictions were necessary in the interest of “public order”, European governments have begun to employ a hack we have seen before: they have conflated support for Palestinian human rights with support for terrorism. Since there is no universally accepted definition of “terrorism,” every state defines the word for itself, usually in overly broad and extremely vague terms, which has led to massive abuse of counter-terrorism legislation across the world. The post 11 September 2001 era was – and remains – rife with counterterrorism and counter extremism measures that have radically narrowed civic space, including the rights to freedom of expression and assembly.

#human rights #amnesty international #israel #palestine

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offsidekineticist · 10 months

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So the subject of Theoven's views on Andoran came up recently while talking with @dujour13, and I realized this requires some space to discuss. Like, a lot of space. Sorry about that.

For Knight-Commander Theoven, the first thing to keep in mind is that Areelu fished him out of the Sellen River after his disastrous first battle more than a decade before Andoran declares independence, when much of the region called Old Cheliax was still under Chelish rule. So when Theo thinks of Cheliax and Chelaxians, he's thinking of an empire of nations bound by - in Theo's understanding - a common Chelish identity. This is very much an idealized view of what was happening, but it was Theo's understanding. In his eyes an Andoren was just as much a Chelaxian as he was (a perspective that, admittedly, would have been considered pretty progressive for his day).

So when Andoran and other colonies declared independence from infernal Cheliax, in Theo's view, they abandoned their Chelish brethren to Hell by seceding. In his view, Andoran remaining as part of the Chelish Empire could have given dissenters enough leverage to force the Thrunes to be more moderate. This is....probably incorrect. But that's Theo's understanding of what happened, and as someone who loves Cheliax and hates Thrune, he feels a great deal of resentment over it. He feels similar resentment towards other former Chelish colonies. This resentment is magnified in the timeline where he doesn't leave Cheliax to join the crusade because he sees it as his patriotic duty to stay in Cheliax and resist Thrune. There's a very personal sense of "I'm staying because it's my duty, even if it's hard and painful and dangerous. Why couldn't you?"

Probably his most legitimate concern (and the one I cited when the subject came up) is Andoran's ambition. He does not believe Andoran wants to spread freedom and democracy so much as expand its own sphere of influence. If asked, he'd point to the Eagle Knights as the biggest red flag: an elite military force, separate from the country's main army, whose stated purpose is to "spread Andoren values." And if this is in the same universe as my Kingmaker playthrough, he can point to examples of them attempting to deliberately stabilize at least one kingdom for having a different understanding of "freedom" than they do (haven't even finished the game yet and I'm so fed up with the Eagle Knights trying to foment rebellion in my True Neutral "live and let live" kingdom).

The final reason isn't really relevant to KC Theo, but is the biggest reason for bleachling Theo's distaste (and why his dislike of Andoran is much more visceral if he isn't KC): Andoran's independence would almost certainly fundamentally change Brastlewark. Overnight, Theo's home went from being a town in the heartland of the Empire to a border city and one of Cheliax's first lines of defense against a potential Andoren invasion. That's not an easy or pleasant transition. The transition is not really described in pathfinder canon, which leaves me loads of room to headcanon what it would have been like.

I imagine Theo would watch in horror as the brightest, most inventive of his former students turn their attention towards Thrune's military pet projects. His current students would go from innocent of dangers to memorizing emergency plans for the event of an invasion. Kids would admit they have fears and nightmares about Eagle Knights coming to destroy their home. Probably the city guard would expand and train themselves into a militia force, which would mean watching his students growing up and becoming soldiers. Any skirmishes caused by one or the other side "testing" the border would send the town into a state of emergency even if it didn't happen anywhere near Brastlewark. In short, they would be living under perpetual threat of violence from a foreign threat on top of the threat of violence from the repressive Chelish government. All of this would break Theo's heart even worse than the book burnings did, and he would absolutely blame it on Andoran "abandoning" Cheliax and becoming hostile towards its former brother.

So, yeah, that's why, despite being extremely anti-Thrune, Knight-Commander Theoven kind of dislikes and distrusts Andoran, and why bleachling Theoven hates Andoran with a burning passion.

#oc: theoven derenge #pathfinder wotr #knight-commander oc #pwotr pals #Brastlewark #Golarian politics #Hope I got the chelish v chelaxian thing right #Basically handled it as #Chelish:Chelaxian::Irish:Irishman #idk if that's correct #But that's how I saw it explained somewhere and it makes enough sense that I wasn't going to bother researching it further

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gatheringbones · 2 years

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[“Prison activists in a variety of locales criticized behavior-modification programs for women, objecting to both their involuntary character and their harmful consequences. At stake was the propensity of corrections officials to enlist biomedical knowledge and practice in the service of quelling dissent and eroding constitutional safeguards for prisoners’ rights.

Medical humanities scholar Jonathan Metzl has shown that cultural and political discourses about racial protest were imprinted on medical diagnoses of mental illness in the 1960s and 1970s, and “new ‘psychochemical’ technologies of control merged with concerns about the ‘uncontrolled’ nature of urban unrest.” As activists involved with the black liberation, Puerto Rican independence, antiwar, and Red Power and Brown Power movements were sent to jails and prisons on charges linked to their political activities, prison administrators registered an acute sense of concern that prisoner dissent was aided and abetted by imprisoned radicals and the larger social movements with which they were affiliated.

For example, the warden of McNeil Island Federal Penitentiary in Washington State, speaking at a 1969 meeting of the American Correctional Association, identified the “fomenters” of what he called the “new rebellion” as “former prisoners, militants, far-out liberals, subversives, and even a few clergymen, educators, and social workers.” Prison administrators identified special control units (which in some cases were called “alternative program units”) and attendant behavior-modification regimens as a frontline strategy for suppressing dissent. Black, Latina/o, and indigenous prisoner organizers were routinely targeted for isolation and treatment. Prison psychiatrists underwrote the expansion of these practices by investing control units with medical expertise. As sensory deprivation, psychotropic drugs, and electroconvulsive shock therapy eclipsed the psychoanalytic and education-based approaches that had predominated in the 1950s, they “muddled commonplace distinctions between what constituted punishment, rehabilitation, and torture.”

Behavior modification contributed to what the sociologist Alondra Nelson refers to as the “biologization of violence” in the late 1960s and early 1970s. In 1967, psychiatrist Frank Ervin and neurosurgeons William Sweet and Vernon Mark, all affiliated with the Boston-based Neuro-Research Foundation, argued in the Journal of the American Medical Association that, in addition to the structural inequalities that spurred the black urban uprisings of the mid-1960s, “brain disease” was also to blame for “urban violence.”

In 1971, these proponents and practitioners of psychosurgery received a combined total of $600,000 ($3.6 million in today’s dollars) from the National Institute for Mental Health and the Department of Justice’s Law Enforcement Assistance Administration to “develop a way to identify and control persons who commit ‘senseless’ violence, as well as those ‘who are constantly at odds with the law for minor crimes, assaults and constantly in and out of jail.’” That same year, Boston newspapers reported that geneticists from Massachusetts General Hospital had collected fingerprints and blood samples from selected women prisoners at MCI-Framingham as part of a screening program designed to detect women’s genetic capacity for violence.”]

emily l. thuma, from all our trials: prisons, policing, and the feminist fight to end violence, 2019

#emily l. thuma #currently reading #history stuff #terra preta

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myfairstarlight · 2 months

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For Every Question Why - Chapter 5

AO3 Link. Previous / Next.

Rated: T Chapter length: 4k Chapter summary:

A demon gets a proposal of some sort and takes a few decades before coming around to it.

*all additional notes on ao3.

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

Unknown.

Truth be told, God has lost the plot a long time ago now. The Cherubim was only meant to get demoted to Principality after refusing to participate in the War, mind — almost — wiped clean to become the proper soldier She needed them to be. They were never meant to Fall, however. The Seraphim, on the other hand, was the one supposed to Fall… but Aziraphale crossed paths with Lucifer first and everything went away from Her plans as soon as the former Prince of Heaven’s eyes settled upon the mischievous and tactful cherub. She could not understand why, or how and She could not bloody grab the two offending angels in the middle of the War to right things up the way She originally intended.

Besides, She got curious. Terrible thing She is, curious. Free Will hadn’t been invented just yet, only a seed had started to grow within Lucifer, and only him, and yet, two other angels defied Her, albeit unconsciously. She wonders if what She had planned would still happen, just… a bit tweaked because of these two.

To Her greatest entertainment, the Ineffable Plan has become truly ineffable, out of Her reach, out in the wild. The end goal shall remain the same, She surmises, but the journey there? Oh! She is quite eager to witness it all, see when Her gentlest demon and Her brightest angel will finally properly meet under shades of grey.

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

Kingdom Of Wessex. 537 AD

Astrophel treads through the damp land, grumbling under his breath. He usually does not resort to extremes, but he truly, deeply hates this place and the fact Hell specifically told him he needed to be a knight for this assignment. The armours are such a pain to walk and move in! Especially when you can't see much.

(Well, the demon does wonder how humans even see with those helmets anyhow, not that it changes a lot for him. He wonders if he should take credit for this in his next report…)

He’d rather indulge in the comfortable dresses the women are currently wearing, all loose tunics and intricate embroidery that feels heavenly under his fingertips but no! He has to foment dissent in damp lands! What a waste of—

“Behold, Dark Knight! For I am Sir Janiel of the Round Table seeking an audience with thee!”

Astrophel groans. “Janiel, dear, really?”

A muffled giggle answers him before he hears the distinct sound of a helmet’s visor getting lifted. When the angel speaks again, it is clearer, “Oh, cheer up starlight.”

“There is hardly anything to be cheery about.”

“I’m personally having fun! Did not know swordfighting was so entertaining!” the angel gushes, in childlike wonder, promptly followed by the sound of his blade slashing through the air.

Astrophel smiles wryly. He supposes it can be entertaining when the battle they fight in has nothing to do with them and the swords cannot permanently kill them. He doesn’t recall what Janiel did during the War, but he reckons, as a Seraphim with a status almost rivalling Archangels, he must have been away from the battlefield most of the time.

“I can hear that,” he says. “So you’re the positive influence I’m supposed to crush.”

“And you’re the evil I’m supposed to thwart, maybe I should have guessed.”

“Perhaps we should have.”

Since there does not seem to be anyone else in their vicinity, Astrophel snaps his fingers, getting rid of the heavy armour around him so he can freely stretch. He hears Janiel take a sharp intake of breath before the angel speaks up again:

“So we're just cancelling each other out, all our efforts for nothing.”

“At least you sounded like you're having fun, I am not,” Astrophel huffs. “Although it has been entertaining to defeat some of King Arthur’s arrogant knights who thought they’d easily get to me because of my blindness.”

“So Sir Leon and Percival’s injuries were your doing.”

Astrophel grins innocently. “I can neither confirm nor deny, they never introduced themselves, just were so convinced they could take down the Dark Knight, the poor dears. I suppose I’ve been doing terrific work around here, after all, not that this is my usual method.”

The demon feels the worry and guilt increase around Janiel’s aura at his words.

“Oh, dear, do not feel bad, I made sure I didn’t induce life-altering injuries.” He may even have healed them, just a bit, he then proceeded to purposely hurt himself so he could heal it back so Hell does not question the miracle. “Nothing your angelic presence cannot soothe.”

“This is the first time our Assignments overlap, don't they?” Janiel points out.

“Well—” Astrophel was ready to argue except he couldn't. Janiel is right, they might have circled each other since the beginning of time, but they never had missions that required them to directly face each other. A part of him wonders how this has not happened sooner, however.

“What if…” The angel’s voice is much closer now, a hand nudging Astrophel’s arm. “What if… we do nothing and report to our sides these assignments as a draw?”

“... Are you suggesting we lie?”

“You say that like it’d be the first time? It wouldn’t necessarily be lying anyway, it’s the truth, we just cancel each other out so what’s the point? See it like a mutual arrangement. It’s not like they’re checking anyway and it means less paperwork for us too.”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable!” Janiel repeats with offence. “How is that different from you asking me to take credit for something you did?”

Astrophel falters. The angel has a point, somewhat. Not completely, though.

“It’s… risky.”

“Any riskier than what we’ve already done?”

“Yes! You’re suggesting we willingly collaborate!”

“Which, again, we’ve already done before.”

“No, before either Heaven and Hell were collaborating or our assignments just happened to be in the same area but did not oppose each other so we’d end up accidentally helping each other. We’ve never been put against each other, they’re obviously expecting something.”

“Accidentally!?” Janiel huffs, apparently deciding to focus on that part of the argument. “Oh, that’s brilliant! When it benefits you it’s all good but I suggest it and suddenly it’s too dangerous!”

“Because what you suggest puts you in danger!” Astrophel argues. “I asked you to take credit for me saving lives I shouldn’t have, that’s of no consequence to you but if they ever hear you’re willingly letting a demon get away with things—”

“That’s assuming they’d ever find out, they never did about the Bet, you know,” Janiel interrupts and the demon wants to scream at his carelessness. “They don’t check, they don’t care, they won’t know if I don’t want them to. You're overthinking this.”

Astrophel sighs. Still so confident, so arrogant, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little endeared by Janiel’s stubbornness and faith that everything would turn out alright. It makes him wonder once more, are there truly no consequences for a Seraphim disobeying orders or is Janiel just an expert at getting away? Astrophel got promoted and yet, in exchange with grander power, it feels like Beelzebub and Satan are a more prominent presence breathing down his neck now.

“If you can’t see how truly dangerous what you are proposing is, then I shall keep saying no until you see sense,” Astrophel answers eventually and almost chokes on Janiel’s disappointment and frustration.

“You’re really annoying sometimes.”

“Thank you.” The demon even bows. “Now if you don’t mind, dear, the Dark Knight is expected someplace else. This conversation never happened!”

“Right,” Janiel grunts.

“Right!”

Astrophel hurries away before he feels compelled to stay back because he’s well aware Janiel never easily takes no for an answer just as Astrophel always struggles to not say yes.

But this is too important. They grew too reckless, too comfortable. Heaven and Hell are finally pitting them against each other and Hell is somehow aware of his… closeness to Janiel in some way. Perhaps it’s because he was made a soldier, but Astrophel can’t understand why Janiel cannot see this blatant warning test for what it is.

So if keeping a safe distance, for now, is needed to be sure the angel doesn’t get into trouble and until Janiel gets over that stupid idea of an arrangement the way he did about changing his name, then so be it.

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

Constantinople. 547 AD.

While Astrophel is on friendly terms with Death Incarnate, he cannot say the same for Pestilence, which is perhaps peculiar considering how the two are so intricately linked. The demon just has never had to supervise plagues since they were led by Heaven before compared to Death following him almost wherever he goes. The Plagues of Egypt were another rare instance in which Heaven and Hell put their differences at rest to collaborate but Astrophel (or Janiel, for that matter) were not assigned to that particular event, no, Lord Beelzebub had the utmost honour of taking care of that particular request and they were pretty proud of it as well. Pestilence truly rose roughly around the same time, originally a Heaven creation, now a Hellspawn, and their power amplified for the assignment.

So here he now stands, in Constantinople when he should still be in Wessex — following King Arthur’s death, chaos spread across the land as Anglo-Saxons, helped by the demon’s influence, tried to take over now that the leader of the biggest line of defence is gone, and that is without mentioning the rise of witches hidden across the kingdoms, slowly but surely making their mark, to Hell’s delight, but for now Astrophel had to leave all this and trust his knights — and Janiel — to handle the situation for this new assignment was a direct request from Mara.

It should only be a few days, she said, then he can go back to causing trouble in Britannia. He’s not sure why she even needs some help, demons don’t ask for help, demons have too much pride for that, and yet. But oh well, it allows him a change of scenery, away from stuffy armours he traded for ample tunics to survive under the harsh sun of Constantinople. And he has more questions for the other demon anyway.

It turns out, she has some of her own.

“Playing babysitter to Pestilence is a bore,” she says as both demons hover over the city, letting Pestilence do their work. “I get they’re still sorta young so we need to keep a close eye on them but really, they know what they’re doing, they don’t need supervision.”

“Mm. So why request my presence? Pestilence sure does not need two demons over their shoulder. Hopefully, they did not see me or they’d probably take offence and throw a tantrum.”

Mara lets out a long breath. Annoyance pulses darkly around her. “Turns out Heaven finally caught up and is sending more than one angel on Earth like us. One keeps popping up where I’m assigned and she’s a bitch.”

Ever since the Jesus debacle, Hell decided to send other demons to Earth. They would not be permanent agents the way Astrophel is, Mara, for example, is still primarily in the Torture Department but is sent out to the surface for assignments specifically regarding human suffering and once the work is done, she must go back to Hell until the next available mission. Astrophel would serve as a supervisor if needed although very few demons have asked for his help or expertise. Again, demons are prideful things.

He did tell Janiel about that new development somewhere in between Caligula and Pompeii, most probably while very drunk as well.

“Only took them a few centuries to realise,” Astrophel muses, he wonders briefly how he’s never encountered any of them before, though. Judging by Mara's tone, this has been going on for at least a few decades. “If you’re asking for Hellfire—”

“Hah, I wish, can’t start a war too early though, would spoil the fun,” the other demon says, disappointed. “No, I was wondering how you did it— fool an angel into trusting you.”

“Huh?”

“That Seraphim, remember? Lord Beelzebub had requested I survey him. I was so impressed by how tightly you control him to the point he purposely messes up assignments so you have less work to do! And he genuinely thinks he can make you an angel again. I’d laugh at his naivety if I wasn’t baffled you managed that. So what’s the secret?”

Never before has Astrophel wished this hard that he could stop time to his whim like a certain angel so that he can gather his thoughts and be prepared because he has trouble grasping what Mara just dumped on him as if it was nothing. Is that how Hell sees his… acquaintance with Janiel? As if Astrophel is the one leading the march? Is that why he got a promotion? That can't be right, over the years he's specifically followed Janiel's lead, as an excuse to… as an excuse to still do good and, well, because he still worried over the angel whose free spirit should have landed him in hot waters — or rather, fires of a Hellish kind — and yet.

He cools his face into an annoyed expression as he huffs. “You do not want to know, dear, or you end up with a clingy angel who keeps babbling about righteous deeds in your ear.”

The disgust growing inside Mara is so blatant that it takes everything in Astrophel to not grimace at the stench of it.

“Yeah, maybe I’m better off just annoying her until she runs back to Heaven. Well, I called you here for nothing.”

Astrophel hums. Quite the contrary, this has been a productive discussion, just not the one he expected to have.

So. He is aware he probably should not take a fellow demon’s word as the gospel of truth but everything does line up with what he knows — Mara was tasked to spy on Janiel, reported to Beelzebub, Beelzebub told the findings to Satan, shortly after, the whole Jesus thing happened and despite playing right into Heaven’s plan, Astrophel still managed to tempt Judas despite Janiel always hovering near, confirming their suspicion and subsequently promoted Astrophel, believing it the best course of action in this battle against Heaven. After all, if the adversary already lets their guard down, why not take extra precautions on your side and take advantage? It is a basic tactic.

Of course, Hell has no way of knowing Astrophel embellished a lot of his reports, but the conclusions drawn from the facts as presented line up perfectly. But if Hell noticed… It is only a matter of time until Heaven does too. And he doesn’t think Janiel is aware of that if Mara’s observations are to be believed. Seriously, purposely messing up assignments to not inconvenience him? Did the angel think him incapable? Have their assignments overlapped before and Janiel consciously sabotaged himself, Astrophel just was not aware of it until today?

What is that angel thinking?

Astrophel holds in a sigh, he can already hear his angel’s voice in his head squealing with triumph as he makes a decision. It would make it easier to keep an eye on the angel and would reduce the paperwork on both sides. Janiel has always known how to get what he wants from him anyway.

“Janiel is my problem, by the way. Be sure to tell the others if they ever see him not to engage with him and report back to me immediately using my crow. Less paperwork for everyone.”

“Your crow,” Mara repeats. “I thought your animal was an owl?”

“Claimed another bird with the promotion,” he explains. “You got a billion moths.”

“Mm. Fair.” Jealousy and admiration lace her words. “Don’t you worry though, no other demon ever gets close to that loud angel. He smites any demon on sight, except you. You’re his special project.”

“Well, I must make him mine as well, then.”

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

Kingdom of Mercia. 584 AD.

Astrophel is enjoying the banquet in honour of King Creoda when she feels the familiar essence of a certain angel slivering to her side, a slender hand finding its place on her waist.

“Lady Aster,” the soft feminine voice purrs in her ear as she feels curls tickling the side of her face. It seems Janiel is already a little tipsy. “Pretty name, starlight.”

“Astrophel can be a mouthful,” she answers, handing over a cup of wine, out of habit. “Fancy meeting you here, Lady Jane.”

She can hear the smile on the other’s face as the angel grabs the offered cup then links their arms together and says, “Mine is less creative I admit. King Creoda mispronounced Janiel and I went along with it.”

“It is better than Bildad, I’ll give you that. Where did that even come from? I never asked.”

Janiel giggles. She giggles. Oh, she truly is drunk. “I may have stolen the identity of one of Job’s friends. He had just left the land at the time. At least here it’s just me, myself and I.”

Astrophel hums and takes a moment to appreciate the proximity, perhaps not very subtly tilting her head so she can get a better whiff of the angel’s sulphur-free scent. It is amusing how much more carefree with affection they both are when they decide to embody a woman’s trait, she’s not sure what to take from it. It is less amusing to realise they also are ignoring their last argument.

Like they are wont to do.

“Mm. New assignment, then?” she asks.

The angel takes a long sip. “Yup,” she confirms, popping that last letter. “Same thing that I did with Arthur, just decided another approach. The battles have calmed down so I figured my blessings would be better used at the castle this time. What about you?”

It sounds almost casual, but there is an edge to her voice, apprehension, and worry.

“I’m off duty, actually, I wanted to talk to you,” Astrophel replies, and Janiel drinks her wine wrong because she splutters and starts coughing. “Are you alright dear?”

The coughing continues for a couple of moments, forcing Astrophel to untangle their arms so she can avoid her wine being spilt.

“Tiptop,” comes the strangled answer when Janiel manages to find a moment of respite. “You want to talk?”

Her tone has turned suspicious, cautious, she probably caught on fast about what the demon wants to talk about. Astrophel also suspects she miracled herself sober.

“Stop time for me once again darling, would you?”

Almost immediately, the chatter all around them ceases, allowing Astrophel to concentrate on Janiel’s shallow breathing.

“I meant to ask, don’t you have to report to Heaven whenever you do that?”

“You're asking now?” Janiel almost laughs. “But no, I don't have to. It isn't exactly a miracle, so it isn't included in those. Call it a Seraphim perk. Anyway, you were saying?”

“About that Arrangement—” She marks a pause at Janiel’s subtle intake of breath, a hopeful thing. “I changed my mind.”

“Really? … What changed?”

I learned you’re being a reckless idiot alone so I might as well join you so if they ever find out they can blame me for being a bad influence, not you. “I reconsidered… You’re right, the extra effort and paperwork feels pointless.” She leans against the table, putting down her cup. “But that means from now on, we tell each other everything.”

“Sure,” Janiel agrees easily, perhaps too easily, even.

Astrophel frowns. “... Just like that?”

“I mean, I was already doing that.”

“You really should worry a bit more about the implications here.”

“Eh, you worry enough for the both of us.” Astrophel could strangle her for that. It is probably meant as a joke but it rings a bit too close to the truth. “If this is about you being a spy during the War, I know, by the way.”

The demon had suspected. “You truly have that much faith that I won't take advantage of this Arrangement to benefit my side?”

“Of course, I trust you.”

That uncomfortable and warm feeling deep within her soul makes an appearance again and Astrophel squirms, crossing her arms below her breasts with a shuddering breath.

“Just like you trust me to not report to Heaven,” the angel continues, her slender hand landing on the demon’s shoulder. Astrophel shivers as the coldness of her rings grazes her skin. “This isn’t about either of our sides, it’s about you, and I, and enjoying our time here on Earth.”

“For as long as it stands,” Astrophel reminds her, despite herself. Their time is limited, before the next War, after all.

Janiel does not say anything in response. Instead, she snaps her fingers and life resumes its course around them. Astrophel straightens up, taking it as her cue that the conversation is over but Janiel’s hand remains on her shoulder, keeping her in place.

“So, what now, starlight?” Before Astrophel can reply with her usual words, Janiel continues, “You’re not going to leave after this agreement, are you?”

“Jani— Jane!”

Her protest falls on deaf ears as Janiel drags her away from the banquet table, away from the crowd. Astrophel finds herself in a garden instead, wherein the angel gently guides her near a pond.

As they sit on the grass, Janiel suddenly decides to lay on her lap, her face chasing the demon's hands until the latter takes the hint and starts carefully braiding her curls. The angel's hair feels, well, heavenly between her damned fingers, silky to the touch with the warmth of Her Grace.

Astrophel smiles despite herself. This is the closest to Heaven she could ever be again, and somehow, she's content with that. Keeping Janiel close and safe is all she needs.

#good omens #good omens fanfic #good omens fic #reverse omens au #aziracrow #ineffable spouses #ineffable husbands #my fics

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waheelawhisperer · 1 year

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Mulling over the 'Watts was a Mantle guy and also much less of a twit than you fndm chuckleheads keep parroting' longpost...while I'm sold on the aesthetic, approach in fomenting the city's dissent and *most* of the bitter mil-industrial complex history, I'm less convinced about the "worthy" bits of his Cinder roast *not* being driven by some flavor of elitism even if it's more meritocratic than Pops Schnee. Watts might've been an undercity STEM grinder, but he probably wasn't a child slave.

I'd agree that there's some level of elitism involved (even if we discount Watts's palpable dislike of Cinder on a personal level, "Some People Are Just Better Than Others" is so thoroughly ingrained in Atlas's psyche that there's no way Watts isn't manifesting it here). If you're low enough in the hierarchy, as Watts presumably was if he was born and raised in Mantle, you tend to cling to whatever scraps of pride you can find and point to anyone lower as a way of reaffirming your self-worth by saying "at least I'm not that guy", and I do feel like Watts is doing this to some extent. My reading of his Cinder lecture is that he cares more about putting Cinder in his place than he does about imparting any kind of constructive advice.

#rwby #cinder fall #arthur watts #analysis

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transingthoseformers · 4 months

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Getaway would be having a fucking time with the liason doing organizational flow work and acting as an emergency cleared Psychologist. Just comand is working in hoyle and there is a responsive HR/CR department addressing crew concerns. Hard to foment dissent when issues are being promptly and satisfactorily resolved.

Plus if they discovered Prowl was behind Overlord being on the ship and generally hijacking the mission they would use their diplomatic immunity to shout it from the Mountain tops which wpuld completely shift the view. Like a public statement of complaints against Prowl through the Lost Light's CR Department. Getaway as Prowl's apprentice/adopted kid would be geting so much side eye.

Getaway 100% would hate our liason for making things harder for him, and Prowl would be interesting in this because does Prowl remember the plan with Overlord considering how Chromedome kinda practiced mnemosurgery on him connected to it? Prowl is known for sketchy shit, and the Lost Light + Liason could dig a lot of it up

#maccadam #transformers #idw prowl #mtmte getaway #unnamed oc

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spinelessdemsandwhinyrepublicans · 2 years

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Um.......why is this funny? This is exactly what he said and meant. There are evil, MAGA Republicans out there hell-bent on fomenting an insurrection to destroy our Democracy as we know it.

Biden doesn’t have a problem with rational dissent, but when you won’t acknowledged the legitimacy of an election just because you lost, what does that make you?

Evil and semi-Nazi.

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mirageofthecrystal · 2 years

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Junelezen 2022 - Day 3 I A Realm Reborn

"The true beginning of my tale lies not in the Seventh Umbral Calamity, where Dalamud descended from the sky and Bahamut wrought furious destruction upon the world. Truthfully, its seeds were sown a thousand years ago, when by the hand of old King Thordan and the actions of his knights was Ishgard plunged into wasteful war with the wyrm Nidhogg. Perhaps you find this insinuation a touch dramatic, claiming that my own personal woes were shaped by these legendary figures, but the same can be said for all who died in the name of Ishgard and our hubris. Mine is simply one tale of woe, and not even the most tragic of them all. I would dedicate many a page to those who were lost needlessly by the failings of our country, but then there would be no room to tell my tale, and I can leave it to better men and women to recount all that we've lost.

The notice came late at night. A messenger, several Temple Knights, and an Inquisitor by the name of Mariseaux. The man was known to be extremely thorough in his interrogation of suspected heretics, with a cruelty and barbarism barely able to fit within the shell of a man. I would never come to know what had shaped his mind so, to look upon the unfaithful not as misguided souls but the foulest demons to break under his whip, but truthfully I care not for it. Simpler to believe him as a monster, so that his death by my hand some years later never haunts my dreams. Whatever demons sat upon his shoulder or twisted inside his heart, he was a man who meted out the Holy See's wicked justice without question or qualms of morality.

I still remember the tremble in my father's hands when he summoned me and my dearest sister Brielle to the foyer. He read aloud the proclamation, signed by the Archbishop, which condemned us to stand trial for the crime of heresy. We were wordlessly taken by the knights, men and women I had fought for and beside, who should have known better the truth of my conviction. Of course, looking back upon things with the perspective of the truth, all it comes into focus. Our family was already one shamed, when my father decided rather than marry for the glory of House Durendaire that he would instead take a serving girl as his wife. He was relegated to his own minor nobility after that, a forgotten man seeking to grasp at any credibility he could while his wife postured and played the noblewoman that he should have married if not for love. Marrying my mother was the only time my father ever showed a spine. Not a single word for our defense, because he knew they would have locked him up just as well, and further undo everything our family had sought to accomplish. But the legacy of House Penderghast is something for another time.

We were surrendered unto the custody of the Temple Knights and locked away in our cells before the evening was done, to await trial. And to call the ensuing proceedings a trial would be a mockery of the system of justice that I believed Ishgard upheld. They would hear no evidence against the claims, which to this day leave a stain on my family even if they were falsehoods. They purported that my sister and I worked closely with heretical forces, and that the casualties at Whitebrim Front during one of the many sieges by Dravanian forces were a result of my own colluding. They cared not that in that particular battle, I lost a woman very close to me, as well as a number of comrades. They cared not how fiercely and faithfully I had fought that battle and many others against the encroaching threat of Nidhogg's hoard. I had served their lie, and I would die serving as a martyr for their enemies. It was a convenient narrative that would bolster the nationalist sentiments of the faithful, rally the people further to the banner and the protection of the Orthodoxy, and place suspicion on my family as a future instrument for fomenting and fabricating dissent.

But execution was not in my future, evident by my ability to recount this tale at all. My sister survived as well, though her predicament was much more grievous than mine. The sham trial could not so easily sentence us to death without further investigation, likely a simple performance to uphold the legitimacy of the entire thing, and so we were spirited back to dark, cold cells to remain until judgement was finally passed. And if not for the bravery of another who I have looked up to my entire life, that would have been our end. And despite all the struggles that would come after this point, all the pain, the loss, the suffering of myself and the world over, I would never trade it away, save in exchange for the man's life. My own uncle, Artemoux Penderghast, a dragoon of some repute and one of the mightiest lancehands of the modern era, risked his own life in order to ensure my cell was left open.

I fled into the night, into the cold winds of Coerthas with only the rags upon my back, no shoes, no weapons, and hunted by the Temple Knights. I knew that freedom would mean exile, would mean my family might suffer further, but until they had me back in their claws, at least my sister would be allowed to live. They tortured her for information, kept her within an inch of her life in order to see if she would relent, though she truly never knew a thing. Yet another regret to add to my heart, knowing how much she suffered so that I could choose freedom. Why me and not her? It was never something I had chanced to ask my uncle, and now it is too late.

The Temple Knights almost caught me, by Mariseaux's pursuit had become much too personal. Starving, freezing, ragged, dehydrated, he found me barely able to go on. I'd killed several of his men out of necessity, cursing that their lives had to end for mine own. He thought that he had me in his clutches, but he relished in punishing me far more than in the capture. Almost by chance was I able to retrieve the fateful knife from amongst the snow, bringing it across his throat, and leaving him to bleed out in the snow. Unfortunate that the wretch would ultimately survive, as his place in this tale is far from done.

Collapsed in the snow, on the verge of death, I was discovered. Not by the heretics, but by an Ul'dahn merchant. I know not what possessed him to spirit me away from Coerthas, save that he saw some benefit to himself in the end. Such is the way of the people of the sands, as I would come to learn very soon. My 'fortune' that day would eventually turn to ill, but in that moment, that man saved me from an unjust fate. If only repayment of that debt had not been his ultimate goal, and the value of my life turned out to be quite steep in the world of merchants and moguls. His is a name I still bless and curse under my tongue when I see the scars left behind by my labors under his paw, knowing that the strength he allowed me to gain in both arms and purpose are also the reason I am the man I am today."

- Excerpt from the personal journal and accounts of Ser Faiolan Penderghast, Knight of the Heaven's Ward

#junelezen 2022 #junelezen #ffxiv blogging #ffxiv crystal #ffxiv #ffxiv mateus #faiolan penderghast #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv rp #ffxiv screenshots #mateus #heresy #a realm reborn #a fate rewritten

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