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#no fr what compelled me do draw this

intotheelliwoods · 1 year

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Just wanted to drop by cuz I recently found your 2AL comics and I love them so much. Really need more F!Leo just being nice and helping his younger self in this world

Also just love your artstyle with all the turtles. They all just look so soft and huggable and I love that for them (especially F!Leo he looks like he gives great hugs)

#asks #2 arms left #rottmnt #future leo #i have no clue #what made me answer this ask like this but here you go #more hugs!#take that dandy #2al has a leo hug count of 3 now #no fr what compelled me do draw this #i dont know

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hoshigray · 7 months

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plz, can u write a oneshot about mean!toji x reader like hate sex 😭😭 toji bleeding and smirking in ep 4 makes me feel some feelings 😭😭 and if u can add some slap in the face- sorry for my bad english :(( hope u can understand

ik those feelings you're feeling, noonie, heheheee (¬‿¬) and dw, honey, your English is perfect ♡

cw: mean! Toji x fem! reader - hate sex, obvi - oral (m! receiving) - impact play; spanking - gun play (loaded) - bondage (chains) - hair pulling - dirty talk/degradation - doggy style position - unprotected sex - biting - mentions of blood and drool - it's gonna get real nasty (depiction-wise; blowjobs) so beware - pet names (doll, dollface, sweetheart) - angsty/violent ending. wc: 1.4k

"Go on." You look up to him, nothing more than his salacious grin and cold emerald eyes sending chills down your spine. Dry blood stains his tight black shirt and baggy pants. Metal chains restraining your hands are pulled to make you shift between his legs.

"...Tch, you got some nerve—"

"Watch that tone with me, sweetheart," your blood shifts to icy cold at the gun in his hand propped to your throat. "Would be a shame if I gotta put a bullet through you before the fun starts. So? Should I kill ya now, or are ya gonna be a good slut fr' me?"

Watery eyes twinkle along with the tremble rocking the uncomfortable bob in your throat, making breathing difficult. Your eyes then scroll down to the tent of his pants, his free hand bringing the material down to his thighs for his cock to spring out. You gulp trembling lips and hesitantly place your lips on the glans, a hiss exiting his scarred lips when you experimentally flick your tongue.

"Hmmm, don't act shy on me now," the gun to your throat drifts to your head. Fear prompts your heart to beat irregularly. "C'mon, Y/n. I know that pretty lil' mouth of yours is just beggin' to have me."

You give him a glare. It's exchanged with a chuckle, and the handgun's cold muzzle is now pressed to your forehead. "Fuck you, you fucking bru—"

BLAM!!

It was for a few seconds, but the blast was too close. Too frightened from the ringing in your ears that your body remains immobile, your eyes wide to the point of a tear falling. Too scared to move a single limb when Toji draws the gun back to your forehead.

"Actin' real smart, forgot who y're dealin' with." Toji sucks his teeth before his free hand pulls you by the chin back to his exposed dick. "Try that again."

Left with no choice, you open your mouth and insert the tip of his cock, your jaw loosening to accommodate the familiar girth of his length protruding from your oral cavity to the walls of your throat. Toji hisses at the swirl of your tongue on the underside of his dick, his free hand now on the top of your head with tufts of your hair in his fingers. "...Yeah, just like that, use that whorish mouth of yours."

If you had it in you, you'd bite his dick off right then; however, with a gun to your head and chains making escaping impossible, you can already calculate your doom if you were to do that. So, you pitifully suck on him as traces of his cum coat your tongue. The grasp on your hair gets tighter, and he roughly pushes your head to bob up and down from the base of his erection.

It's so disgusting how he uses you like this — like his toy, so used and abused...And what's worse, the throbbing sensation between your legs begins to flourish. Fuck you, Toji Fushiguro...

"—Ahhh, shit, shit," his groans of pleasure fill your ears; they feel so dirty to hear. His hips are unable to refrain from bucking into your mouth. And before you know it, Toji drives your face to his base, the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and he releases his load into you. More tears fall from your face, whimpers muffled by the pulsing limb between your plump lips, forced to drink what he gives you until he withdraws from you. Drool and come paint his shaft, your mouth, and chin — a mess you're compelled to make.

But it doesn't stop there. Of course, it doesn't.

Because remember: you are his toy. And a greedy man like Toji wants to wear you out by any means necessary, whether you like it or not. Especially now with your face smooshed down to the cold floor, your hands to your back still restrained by the chains, and your bare ass for him to witness smack against his pelvis as he fucks you raw.

With a ruthless pace, Toji bullies and churns your insides with his girth in your cunt, his length pistoning to and fro from your leaky entrance. Your screams are erupted by the harsh thrusts, sounds of your ass smacking onto him corrupt your eardrums. He keeps you still on the ground with his strong hands on your shoulders, leaving any opposition worthless and unable to fight off his merciless tempo.

The fucker pants and groans down to your ear, it's so awful to hear. More so that it makes your slit clamp onto him tighter. How shameful. And he knows so too — the sinister chuckle is evidence as much. "Mmff—Heh, gettin' so tight fr' me, doll."

You don't reply, why should you. Too wrapped up in the pleasurable commotion between your legs to care for giving him a reply. That is until—b

SMACK!!

A sharp slap to your ass comes down to your ass without notice, erupting a scream from your fatigued throat.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you, fuckin' broad." Your hair is yanked again, your head off the ground with tears and drool smooshed all over your pretty face. "Listen here, who—Mmmm!! Fuck...Who does this slutty pussy belong to?"

You'd rather die than say what he wants to hear you say. "Get off me, you—Ahhhhhh!"

Another smack to your ass, you chew on your bottom lip to the point of blood. "Cut the shit, Y/n..." He ponders before another grin lifts his scar and slaps your ass again. A choked sob aligns with your chasm gripping his cock again, and a satisfied moan comes from Toji. "Oh, now I know how to teach you a lesson."

Wait, no. No, no—

SMACK!!

"Ahaaann!! Ahhhh!! Toji, stop—" He doesn't listen, giving your shoulder a bite, leaving you breathless.

SMACK!! SMACK!!

"—OKAY, OKAY!!" The unbearable stinging heat on your asscheeks forces you to submit to him. ".....'s yours..." you say under your breath with gritted teeth. But with another blunt impact to your butt, Toji wanted to hear you loud and clear.

"Say it louder."

And you do. "It's yours!! I belong to you, only you!!"

His hands knead the hot flesh of your ass, and a dangerous chuckle stems from him. "That's better, ya damn broad." He releases your hair for your face to meet the cool floor again. "Now—Ohhh shit...you stay just like this while I finish here, got that?"

The older man doesn't give you room to respond, only returning his hips to an unforgiving pace. Mewls scratch out from your throat and mouth, too helpless to try and suppress them with your slick and come drip down to your legs.

It doesn't take long for him to climax into you, his hands finding your shoulders once more and pining you down, his fingertips leaving painful indents to your shoulder blades as he drills his dick deep inside for his load. Your orgasm follows when he grinds his pelvis to you, his length scraping your sweet spots perfectly and accurately. The rush hits you hard, your cunt contracting around him until the heat subsides.

He removes himself from your heaving body, trails of his come slide from your folds down to your inner thigh. The air makes the substance chill as it travels across your sweaty skin. For a minute, you're allowed to aimlessly rest. Your mind returns to its senses, a feeling of shame weighing your weary figure down. But it doesn't matter: it's finally over.

...So why do you hear a metallic click come from behind you? Your eyes drift to Toji's feet coming in your direction, crouching down to your level. A smile on his face — a sign you know that doesn't hold any positive connotation.

"Hope you enjoyed y'rself, I know I did," Toji hums, you could barely hear him. He then pulls out his handgun and points it at you. Those following words, so condescending, send chills down the spine. "Sorry, it had to end like this, dollface. Thanks for the fun time."

Your eyes widened before any words left your mouth. And just like that, you're reminded of your place in this mess. You're only his toy — a mere plaything he can rough up and mess with however he sees fit.

BLAM!!

And just like a toy, he'll discard you when he's done with you, removing your purpose and leaving your abused body for the cold, hard floor to keep motionless.

The blood that seeps out of your forehead is the only warmth you'll experience in your final moments. Finding a few seconds of comfort from yourself before your body shuts down, your vision blurry, and your identity whipped from the face of this Earth.

Here lies a toy that no longer works.

phewwww, been a while since I've done hate sex, hope you liked it!! :D

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lollytea · 7 months

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I think Gus would absolutely go nuts about vocaloid when me learns about the concept. Like vocaloid concerts could be the human realm equivalent of illusion magic. Gus Miku stan forever

You are my best friend. You are my brother. You have the best opinion of all time.

I believe so strongly that a huge part of the intrigue of the human realm to Gus, is how they manage to do magical things without magic. They can heal injuries and grow plants and predict the weather and even do illusions.

Like, magic is mundane to Gus. Everything is done by magic. So I'd imagine he'd be deeply fascinated with all the wild convoluted ways that humans have managed to invent their own ways of doing things that Gus can't imagine being done any other way but with magic. Electricity! Technology! It alludes him! It compels him! He wants to dig in and research until he can crack open the complexity of it.

I think by the time he's sixteen, Gus is the guy Luz goes to when she needs her computer fixed.

So YES!! Yes of course!!! Gus Miku fan fr!!!!! Of course he's gonna be amazed of magicless illusions!! And she's a global pop sensation?? :O!!!! So fucking cool!!!!

My prompt for any toh artists that wanna draw something but can't decide what: Gus in Miku merch

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someoneinthecrowd0757 · 2 months

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Misa no Uta is an underrated masterpiece that changes Misa's whole characterization fr fr

Misa no uta is one of the most compelling moments in the entire Death Note series, within one of the most compelling episodes of the series (if not just outright the best).

To cement his return as Kira, Light plans to kill L. Light requires Misa to be at risk for this, throwing her under the bus if the plan fails and REM weren’t to save her but guaranteeing the deaths of L and REM both if it succeeds, and it's very likely to do so.

As Misa walks the streets of Japan, she sings this song to herself and the audience that immediately stands out, being the sole musical number in the series.

The song is about her relationship with Light and Kira, her place by his side as the loyal follower turned God herself. It’s about love, trust, fanaticism and the danger of allowing yourself to know something for a fact or to choose the version of reality that provides you the most happiness, whether it’s the full truth or not. Her powerlessness in the face of what he is is not something she’s ignorant to, and the ways he continually takes advantage of this drain her of life a little further everyday, and yet she wouldn’t give it to anybody else. How could she? She is indebted to him, in her eyes.

“Hold my hand in the dark street for if you do I know that I’ll be safe” Kira saved her. He ensured the death of the man who killed her parents and nearly killed her in one of those dark streets she so fears. Misa never recovered, she ran open armed into the belly of the beast before she could ever begin to do so. By the time the consequences of her actions became clear, and Kira's nature was startlingly apparent, it was too late to attempt to stop this. So she lies to herself, and justifies this all with the guarantee of safety she's been provided.

“Even if I'm far away and alone, I can be sure that you’ll find me there. This, I know.” and this is the indisputable fact of the matter, isn't it? That even if she forgets, surrenders the Death Note and lives her life, it is simply the illusion of control. She knows she’ll be back, she knows she’ll be brought to Light’s side again by herself with no memories of what he turned out to be. Then, even if she isn’t? What becomes of her? Surely Light would never let her simply walk away, and she knows that. So the lies she tells herself are cemented by that, and her fanaticism surrounding Kira becomes a pillar of who she is. For if that is lost, if she doesn’t believe that he is attempting to achieve good anymore, then how can she love him despite the way he treats her?

“You draw me close for a while, so quiet, you tell me everything” at the start they operated somewhat as equals, with Misa having the upper hand of REM on her side. Light does keep her informed, does treat her as an equal (outwardly, at least). Yet once they are imprisoned, once the tide shifts entirely, this changes inalterably and in a way Misa has no time or opportunity to change.

“If i forget what you say then you’ll come to me and tell me again, yes you’ll tell me once again…” This once again is cementing her handling of the aftermath of this shift, her now regaining her memories entirely and seeing the forest for the trees. There is no escape for Misa, and any ticket out was lost before she could do a thing. REM will die, though I don’t know if Misa knows of this at this point. I'm certain she couldn’t have been fully ignorant to it being highly likely, and she will serve Kira until her dying breath. She has made her peace with that long ago, deciding it’s for the greater good and serving the life debt she believes she owes him.

But then there’s the question. The one plaguing her throughout the rest of the series, I’d say–The truth that she continuously makes the conscious decision to avoid looking in the face.

“But what happens when I know it all, what should I do after that? What then?”

This is where the fact that this scene has played out as almost a funeral procession, ending with her standing on the very rooftop where she will eventually meet the answer to her question, cements this as an eerie, gorgeous, perfect scene. Misa will have nothing to live for, is the answer. If all she has done has been in the name of helping a madman who not only doesn’t love her, but actively dislikes her? If this life debt was unwanted, if Kira wasn’t all that good at all? If he’s not a god, if her parents were simply a number amongst the many hundreds of thousands Light kills… then why did she survive any of it? Why is she still here?

I’m also fascinated with the choice to have at what point in time this scene takes place in, be somewhat impossible to fully discern. This is the same outfit, the same sunset, the same ledge that Misa’s story ends with. When she kills herself at the end of the series, is that moment one we’ve long ago witnessed already? Is this meant to indicate that anything of Misa truly died then? Or is this the moment she reflects upon when she makes that fateful walk, years from now? Is this the moment she wishes she could go back to? To change?

In all reality, I truly wish that more of the intricacies to Misa's character that are implied heavily would've been made somewhat more text than they ever are in canon. Many people's opinions of her character are somewhat justified, although I think that some of the way that people react is a tad misogynistic at times as well but the way she exists as a woman in service to Light who wants for nothing and lives for nothing else is, too, in it's nature a misogynistic thing. I think that Misa is fascinating as a character and would be infinitely more fascinating if the subtext heavily implied in this scene were made more canonical than it was.

#misa amane #death note #death note meta #misa no uta #misas song #meta textpost

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crimson-nail · 3 months

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Love Swap!Elendira's propensity for kicking people in the shins. She's just like me fr... Also love that Nai is the shortest in the group I'm sure he's Very Normal about this 💚 do Elendira and Legato still have powers in this AU or is that a spoiler kinda question 👀

knives being like 6’ yet looking shrimpy bc he’s in the company of a beanpole, a science experiment who never takes off her 4” heels, and another science experiment specifically made to kill things good will never not be funny to me.

elendira yes, legato no!

legato is more of a direct story swap with meryl; therefore, i’ve given her an adaptation of his canon powers, because she’d need them to play his role in the story. instead of controlling people with wires, she can compel them with speech

elendira in comparison doesn’t really have a 1:1 character i’ve swapped her with. i say milly/roberto kinda, because she’s alongside legato as a reporter, but i’ve moreso incorporated trimax elendira into tristamp’s framework — she’s the clone that was made prior to stamp’s elendira, so both of them exist :) conrad has still been making them, but he’s been incorporating the plant DNA over multiple generations. swap elendira defected from vash’s group when she was informed she’d be sacrificed and replaced by a better, more powerful copy of herself.

while stamp elendira can synthesize nails out of thin air, i’ve always liked reading trimax elendira as needing her briefcase to fire them bc her abilities are not as streamlined — particularly in swap, i have that she can draw and amplify iron out of her own blood to summon her nails, but she can’t use anyone else’s blood nor can she create them from nothing. she needs an initial drop of blood for each shot, so to answer what’s in her briefcase is a fuck ton of blood bags

#role swap au #he doesn’t mind being closer to hell

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omgiamwish · 1 year

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Okay, I gotta ask cuz I’m curious! Do you have a least favorite TMNT character from either the 2018 or 2003 show? If so, who and why?? 😁 thank you in advance!! I can’t wait for the next part of the LOTR AU!

When I was a kid watching 2003, I didn't like Raph because of his anger issues and because I thought he was dumb and mean. In retrospect, I had exactly zero self-awareness and was probably experiencing 'he's just like me fr (derogatory)' syndrome. I think I'd have a lot more sympathy for Raph if I watched it now. Judging by a few clips I've watched recently, Casey would probably be my least favorite of the main cast now.

With the 2018 boys, asking who's my least favorite is like asking what my least favorite flavor of neapolitan ice cream is- the answer is subject to change and doesn't really matter considering how much I love them all. Of the main cast... is Draxum counted in the main cast? Anyway, yeah, I don't like him as a person and he fails to compel or interest me as a character. He's arrogant and hateful, and doesn't even have the decency to be interesting about it. Insert obligatory 'no hate to people who do like him' statement

regarding my lotr au: i'm so excited to finally be getting to outdoor scenes; i was getting kind of bored of drawing indoor backgrounds, but now I get to draw plants and snow! moonlight and sunlight! action and memes!

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suenitos · 1 year

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idk it just scratched that part of my brain that enjoys creative media outlets LMFAOO but idk i'm not a lorehead in the sense that everything had to be thought out i just thought everything could be stablished inthe lore in a fun or interesting way BECAUSE it surged as nothing serious and slowly started to introduce more and more serious elements, people at the end thought this was a series. and that it was solely written by wilbur which made me saurrrr angry. he's a talented creater, such as slimecicle, in terms of creating cohesive stories! but to attribute all progress to him was ANNOYING

(cGeorge was my personal 9/11 in that regard. Cause he was such a smartly introduced and stablished character and he was so good and in my then circle NOBODY FUCKING CARED it made me go crazy. like you really didn't need to do daily streams like tommy back then to create a compelling character and cGeorge showed that and well you know my cDnf demons sorry had to pull this out he's just so loved by me ... need to finish the animatic fr)

techno was such a good creator i'll always hold my love for him close to my chest, he cared a lot about the things the fans created, he was just lovely and he made such an interesting character with only little preparation. he managed to weave a truly beautiful tale of found family with the syndicate, and he maintained his character the way he loved until the end which i admire since lots of other creators decided to let the fans dictate far more than they should've (in my opinion). i hate the way he was treated at the end of 2021. he seriously deserved better, and i hope he rests in peace knowing he made such a beautiful impact in the community in general.

anyway FUCKKKK MUCHAEL i have a bone to pick with any and all cBeeduo loreheads They're worse than cInniters 2 me 🌟

i understand you. i personally lovedd a lot of the fanart and THE ANIMATICS that came out of dsmp it was kind of like SU in that it also got me to Draw Better. i will always be mad about the wilbur head writer thing because well im a little drolopilled about the fact that DREAM came up with a lot of stuff that ppl attributed to wilbur but anyway.

i think what george did with his character was really smart in my eyes showing the character IS the spectacle simply because he didnt do a ton but every single one of those streams revealed something important about his relationship to other characters and the server. and that disconnection and slow insanity via the dreams was interesting to me. i do wish he did a bitttt more but not everyone needs to be a tommy to have good lore. it irritated the hell out of me that so many people didnt take his streams seriously for a lot of reasons we talked about a little but those are my personal demons about cgeorge

i think in some ways techno rlly embodied the srs and nsrs aspects of the rp in that he had some really epic moments ppl will remember forever but at the same time was goofy and silly. i loved that he had a strong sense of his character and the way he incorporated other characters into the plot. admittedly i wasnt much of a techno watcher but i think everyone felt the effect of his passing really deeply. i also hope his family is doing alright and if there is an afterlife he knows just how much of an impact he continues to have on the world :(

cbeeduo was hell on earth oh my god. i hated cranberry in particular if qs lore wasnt fleshed out his wasnt even a skeleton. it wasnt even ARTERIES. you will neva be cdnf ⁉️ and once again fuck that pig

#🌟.txt #ask.txt

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saltminerising · 3 years

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Running An Art Shop With Minimal Crying 101

Hey y’all, not sure what compelled me to write this Now but I wanted to put together a list of helpful ‘good business practice’ tips for artists who want to start selling commissions on FR and want to build up a good reputation and make bank. I’m not sure if I’d feel comfortable throwing this on the forums personally so here you go, y’all have to look at my stupidly long possibly helpful brutally honest post cuz I don’t know where else to put this.

I’ve been doing art on FR since I was a young teenager in 2015 and through that time I’ve definitely learned some lessons the hard way. I’ve taken on more than I could handle, I’ve let commissions rot for months because I got overwhelmed… you know what I mean. Here’s some of what I’ve learned over the years that’s helped me run a consistently successful art shop for well over a year now.

I don’t have a tumblr and I don’t know how to add a ‘read more’ to a submission, so happy scrolling <3 I apologize for causing some people a very minor inconvenience

-Do not take prepayment for either more than three commissions at a time, or more than the number of commissions you think you can finish within a month or two, whichever is smaller. This is especially true if you’re like me and you have ADHD. Trust me, the more commissions people have already paid for you have piled up in your to-do list, even if they’d only take you 20 minutes each, you will get more overwhelmed and discouraged and people will wonder why it’s taking you so long. Even if you aren’t getting concerned PMs, a lot of people are just too anxious or polite to ask for updates. (On the flipside, if you commissioned someone and haven’t gotten any word/updates in a while, you’re not in the wrong to ask how things are going and when you can expect an update.)

-Full payment upfront is something I definitely recommend for smaller pieces (headshots, sketches, etc) you can finish in one sitting. However- if you’re doing a ref sheet, a rendered fullbody, etc, and you’ll be spending multiple sessions on the piece and getting feedback for it multiple times- split it up, take half upfront and half either after the sketch is approved, or before you send them the final unwatermarked version. I’ve done dozens of commissions like this and never had a problem, personally. There’s a low chance of a customer backing out on you if you’ve already started and sent WIPs because, y’know, sunk cost, and on the other hand it is reassuring to customers (especially if your shop is new) that if you drop off the map, they paid $20 upfront and got at least a sketch, instead of paying $40 upfront for an unfinished piece.

-In the same vein: if you’re doing a large piece like a rendered fullbody, ref sheet, etc, more communication is always better than less! I always stay on the safe side here. Some people will tell you they just want you to go apeshit and do whatever you think will look cool, other people might have much more specific ideas of what they want and how closely your artwork needs to match the image of their character in their head. Send them the sketch and ask them if they want any changes. Send them the lineart and ask if it looks good. If you’re working on a time-consuming painting that will take you weeks to finish, please please please, communicate! Send updates! Your customers will feel a lot less anxious about how long you’re taking if you keep them posted (plus this is just a personal thing but I love seeing peoples’ artistic process, it sparks joy!!)

-If, once again, you’re like me and stuff like painted fullbodies take you so much longer than other commission types- the worst thing you can do is underprice. Let’s say a detailed, shaded dragon fullbody takes you, for instance, 8 hours, maybe longer because you get burned out and can’t finish it in just one sitting, but you don’t think people will buy an $80/8kg fullbody. Do not lower the price you think your art is worth. If fullbodies take you really long compared to other art, or you get unmotivated, just… don’t offer painted fullbodies, or scenes with multiple characters, or whatever. If there’s a form of art you’re capable of creating but it’s faster, more fun, and gets you more money to do smaller things, just do more smaller commissions instead of taking the big ones. This one was a lifesaver for me.

-Once again in the same vein: It is okay to say no. Just because you are physically/artistically capable of drawing a detailed scene of multiple dragons with complex apparel, doesn’t mean you won’t get burnt out or bored. For me, larger pieces take exponentially longer because I just get bored and don’t want to work on them anymore. If someone asks if you can draw something that will require so much of your personal time and effort to go into a single piece, just say no. Sometimes I’ll say yes to some big commissions because I think the character is cool and inspiring and I want to draw them; otherwise, I will admit, I’ve said no to big commissions because I personally found the character boring as hell (though I wouldn’t phrase it that way). And that’s ok!

-If you are going to be really busy in the near future, stop taking commissions. You have finals? Don’t say “sorry if things take forever, I have finals”… just don’t take the commissions while you’re busy. If you have too much on your plate, commissions will just stress you out more, and nobody likes to draw motivated by stress. There’s nothing wrong with temporarily pausing your art shop. Put your mental health first. And if you aren’t able to get commissions done on a regular basis because of mental health, or because you don’t give enough of a shit about other peoples’ characters: don’t do commissions. I don’t mean this in a bad way; I’ve been in that spot before and it’ll just cause more stress and guilt than it’s worth.

-NO PARAGRAPHS. That sounds hypocritical of me writing this lol but do not put long paragraphs in your art shop, ever. I promise nobody will read it. Put your rules, and any other information, in bullet points that are one or two lines. Keep your rules clear, simple, unambiguous and short, or everyone will ignore it and I won’t blame them. Put titles and subtitles wherever you can. If you have a block of text longer than probably five lines, it will be ignored by most people. I have decided not to buy art from people because I didn’t want to have to dig through blocks of text for information.

….so yeah I think that’s about all I can think of at the moment. time to sit back and get yelled at for not being able to shut the fuck up and get to the point lol, hope you (yes you) have a great day c:

#submission #long post #art tag 🏷

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phoebehalliwell · 2 years

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one thing i'm really really tired of with the new charmed reboot is mel falling to the wayside when it comes to her significant others and romance. we are on our fourth love interest for her. fourth! and jada and niko were both more interesting characters individually and had more chemistry and history with mel than ruby has. and ruby as a character simply isn't as compelling as jada or niko, i really wish we could have one of them back tbh

and as much as i love jordan/maggie and have been waiting to see more of them (and more of jordan pls god he's the only male character i give a shit about on this show) my fear with next season is we're gonna focus on them, jordan's journey as a whitelighter and how maggie helps him with that and harry's grief will of course take so much more space than it should and it will leave mel to do what exactly?? and the thing is it's not like mel doesn't want love or a serious relationship it's pretty clear to me that mel does want that but something always fucking gets in the way. the writers cannot let he be happy and at this point i gotta ask what's the point of having one of your leads be a lesbian if she's the only one out of the main cast who is not allowed to find healthy and lasting love? you got two het pairings and they have drama and obstacles but it's never as definitive and/or ass backwards as it is with mel and i am TIRED

fr like. like. idk man it seemed like such a solid start with niko but then you know that all had to get rewritten but then we got jada which was really peak and then we just dropped that?? i don't remember why? she's not dead. in fact, she's one of the last standing whitelighters. like??? idk & then i liked kat i thought that could have been a really nice way for mel who's just so like. by the book and rigid when it comes to magic to really get all earthy crunchy and just vibe with stuff like that could have been nice. & then of course ruby who like. really offered nothing? like they flirted once and then like she's watching soccer with her roomies. making her a witch was cool but like. idk i feel like we really still don't get her nor do we get why they're a couple like what's the spark where's their draw. & idk it feels like the writers really just don't like. care? about mel's love life enough. honestly care about mel enough i think she's the least consistent out of all of the sisters and she just kind of feels like a shoe that doesn't quite fit right like she's there and she's moving forward fine but like they can't really figure out what her damage is like. idk if it's just me but i feel like mel has never fully been fleshed out and given like this heart or this spirit that the writers can hold & love. she always feels just kind of surface level & engages with the plot as the story wills it. so idk maybe that's why we mel's love interests are just getting progressively weaker like they understand mel less and less and she moves around for plot so they just kinda need to give her you know. the equivalent of a tote bag a very standard girlfriend you can find em anywhere loyal ready to weather whatever & can go anywhere. because if mel's love interests start becoming characters and actually engaging with the plot in in-depth ways, then we're going to actually have to look at mel and be like hey. what's her deal?

#idk is it just me? i feel like if you look at maggie or macy you see you know characters #like as we track their journey over 3 seasons it feels consistent like they grow but they still hold their cores #whereas mel i feel like they've always been lost on mel #idk #maybe it's just me #ch2018 #charmed #💌#mel vera

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bluepenguinstories · 2 years

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Remoras Full Chapter LIII: Take Root

Not long after Tony left, I turned to Ray with a puzzled look on my face.

“Why didn’t you tell him that Rhea is alive?” I asked. It was so obvious in hindsight, but I was still compelled to ask.

“What good would it have done? He may have said that he’d put his hatred behind him and move on, but I’m sure that all it would take is even just a hint of confirmation that she’s still out there and he’d charge out, guns blazing.”

“You don’t trust him that much?”

He shook his head.

“It’s not that. If anything, I trust him to do exactly as I described.”

“Wait. Rhea is someone else? I thought Remora said that she was!” Proserpina poked her head in, her fish out of water status getting the better of her.

“Maybe the real Rhea were the friends we made along the way,” Remora shrugged, then took a sip from her glass of vodka.

“It’s clear you guys don’t want me to be in the know, so I’m just gonna clean elsewhere. Bye now,” Proserpina turned back and was about to dart away when Ray chuckled.

“Actually, all four of you ladies, come with me to the back. There’s something I think we should all hear,” he announced instead.

“Drat!” Sunny slapped her knee and hissed, having been whistling to herself in the background and doing her damnedest not to draw attention to herself.

“Oh, but honey, this will be fun,” he teased and a sly smile spread across his face. I hated that look. It could only spell trouble. Still, we followed him, unsure of what we would find.

On Ray’s desk was a small, lime green speaker box. Nothing to write home about, or write about at all, aside from its calming color scheme. Ray, however, trotted to his desk and sat at his chair, then pressed play on the speaker. We then heard Tony’s voice come in.

“There’s one more thing I want you to do for me,” he told some unknown other person. Then, a young woman’s voice came in.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“On the day of my daughter’s wedding, while Ray and the others are on their way to the plaza, I want you to set the diner afire. Then come fly back over. Think you can do that and still make it back before they arrive?”

She gasped, then replied:

“It’s not a matter of whether or not I can do it. It’s a matter of why. I thought you two were friends. I thought things were good now that you cleared things up.”

“He kept her existence from me. Even if she wasn’t the one I was after, the fact remains that he kept her a secret. There’s no telling what else he’s hiding from me.”

“Loathe as I am to defend her, but considering your vendetta, was it any wonder that he kept it from you?”

“The why doesn’t matter,” he growled, “it’s the very fact that he did. He needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Very well,” she sighed, “at least you took the time to explain yourself.”

Then, the recording stopped. I turned to Proserpina, whose palpable fear showed through a stiffened face and a deep-pressed frown. She gulped, and really, I couldn’t blame her.

“Tony is a paranoid man. Unfortunately for him, so am I. While I was bringing him his meal, I slipped a recording device on him. I had a suspicion that he would seek reprisal for what he felt was me slighting him. So I took a precaution.”

“What will we do now, though? We know what he intends to do, or rather, what he intends to have his lackey do, but what will we do to stop it? Should we stay here and cancel going to the wedding?” I asked. Before that day, I didn’t even plan on going to a wedding, but I guess that was going to be a thing now. Or, was until hearing that our home was going to be burnt down. To think Proserpina had one home taken from her, and now this one too…

Ray, however, shook his head.

“Tony’s expecting us to go to this wedding. He’ll know something’s up if we don’t go. In fact, I want to go to this wedding.”

“But then what? We’ll just let the diner burn down?”

“I’ve got some contingencies in place. For one, Proserpina. I want you to stay behind on the day of the wedding.”

“Aw, but I love weddings!”

“And I’m sure Demetria hates them.”

I was far from a fan, that’s for sure.

“I want to go to this wedding,” Ray continued, and stood as he did so, then paced about, “because I want to rob it blind.”

My heart thumped. Not out of fear, but excitement. At last, something I expected Ray to announce, but only just now hearing. It was more than that; as my excitement grew, I noticed that Ray was no longer smiling, and instead, there was a seriousness seeping into his voice, a slight deeper edge.

“But Ray, isn’t Tony your friend?” Sunny broke in.

“He is. But if he’s going to make a declaration of war, I’ll play along. It just so happens that I’ve been trying to come up with ways to gain funds in order to expand and fortify the diner ever since the last attack Cronus made on us. So this is the perfect opportunity. While we’re there as guests, we’ll work behind the scenes and take the money stashed between the two mafia families. We won’t take them all, but we will take a sizable enough portion from each that they’ll notice a chunk is missing, but then with any luck, blame each other for the loss.”

Man. It’s like he’s trying to re-enact Romeo and Juliet, but as an audience member.

“Is it really right saying this in front of me? Like aren’t you worried I’ll tell someone? You should know, stealing is bad, and also if these families are willing to burn down places, they’re probably not people you should be messing with,” Proserpina began to rant. Ray just gave her a glance from the side.

“You’ll get a small cut if we manage to pull it off,” he proposed.

“Deal!” Proserpina pumped her fists and I was a little shocked at how easy it was for her to change her tune.

“We still have much preparations to make,” he continued, “like how we’ll need someone here to cook the food. Tigershark would be the most obvious option, but I was hoping to bring her to the wedding as well. As for preventing this place from going up in flames, I’ve got Aurora’s contact information. If I can talk her into it, she can bring her and her crew over to watch over the place. It shouldn’t be hard to convince her if I just say something like, ‘free food for all’ or whatever.”

“What? You have Aurora’s number? Since when?” I tried to recall him ever mentioning calling Aurora up, but couldn’t. I didn’t even think Aurora had a phone. Did she get a signal in her train?

“I have to have some way of staying in contact with the connections I make. I lent her a phone to use. It’s not the most advanced one on the market, but it should do just fine.”

So the conversation ended there, with plans to pull off a heist at a wedding. Calling it risky would have been an understatement, even if Ray seemed to know what he was doing.

When I went to bed that night at the airport, in the same space as Cybele with the large room and many decorations of airplanes, the vast ceiling with rafters above, I laid flat on my back on the stiff, firm mattress with an even thinner fleece blanket covering me. I shivered in place, but soon ignored the shivering as I thought of how the time of peace I had taken for granted would soon come to an end. With that, I drifted off to sleep.

It was bound to happen eventually. Peace just could never last long here. Quiet, yes. But peace was but a moment. If only that moment had just lasted a little longer...

What jolted me awake was a vibration on my phone with a text from an unknown number. I shook as I saw its simple message:

Unknown: We have your friend Proserpina. Come to these coordinates in one hour if you want her back.

Another text was sent just below it with a set of coordinates not far from where I was.

That’s all I need to know, was my first waking thought. Still disoriented, still tired, but none of that mattered. All around the room was a deep shade obscuring the room. I grabbed my knife from the bedside (loath to admit, but keeping my knives next to me while I sleep became a habit of mine. Looks like it came in handy) and pulled back the curtain beside the bed, then stood up.

I occupied the same room as Cybele, I just had a private little bed and a curtain. Yes, there were plenty of places in such a large airport for me to reside, yet I seemed to feel most comfortable with the less space I had. It made little sense, but it was what it was.

Cybele was sound asleep in her bed. It was early in the morning. Good. Let her sleep. She didn’t need to know what I was dealing with. Whoever it was that kidnapped Proserpina...let’s hope they didn’t touch even a hair from her head.

As I darted down the stairs and out the door, into the brisk dawn, I ran over the possibilities in my head:

Who could it be? Hades? Her mom? God, those would be the better options, wouldn’t it? “Hey, we’ve come to take you back!” And wouldn’t they be more direct about it rather than just say ‘your friend’? It could be someone who doesn’t know her, but knows me, and knows that we’re friends. But who? Cronus comes to mind, but so soon? Or maybe it’s no one. Maybe she’s safe. Maybe it’s just a practical joke, a prank, that someone at the diner decided to play. I’d say I wouldn’t put it past Ray, but that seemed rather insensitive. Same with Sunny.

But hey. If it was just a prank, then so be it. I can be pissed at them later. The relief of knowing she’s safe means more than a poor taste joke.

It wasn’t long until I was back at the diner. Already racing with my thoughts, I ran faster than I otherwise would have. Fight or flight canceled each other out and I was ready for both.

“WHERE IS SHE?!” I shouted, short on breath and temper. Two R’s stood out in the dining area, one with a mug of tea in hand, one with a glass of water.

“Hi, I’m right here,” Remora answered, then took a sip.

“Not you! Proserpina!”

Ray blinked, took another sip, then walked over to a table and set his mug down.

“She’s usually not up this early,” he explained, “so she’s probably asleep. What do you need her for?”

“What do I need her for? Look at this!” I held out my phone, showed the text. He leaned over, held his glasses, and squinted.

“Hmm. I see. That is rather concerning, isn’t it?” He stated, so plain. As if he was just some scholar reading from a text (which, he did read from a text, but that’s not the point).

“That’s it? You’ve got nothing else to say?”

He paced about, stood up straight, hands behind his back, and eyes closed.

“Yes. It’s good that you came here before running to wherever this person wants you to go. To my knowledge, no one entered this diner last night.”

“So she was lured out? Huh?” I huffed.

“Yes. It’s possible. Just as they may be trying to lure you out. Remora, do you have anything to say?”

She looked disinterested in the whole thing. The gall. As she looked away, she answered Ray.

“How do we know she’s still not here?”

“That’s…” I was about to blow up, prepared for it, even, but stopped. “I’ll be right back!”

I ran off to the back and slammed my way through her door. She was nowhere to be seen, although her blanket was in disarray (doesn’t she know to make her bed in the morning? I’d have to give her a stern talk once she was safe. That was, if nothing had happened to her already). There was no way I’d just leave the room before checking every space. Under her bed, in the closet, in her drawers. It didn’t matter how small the space, if there was a possibility of her being in there, I’d look.

Nowhere.

Next was the bathroom. Again, closet. The bathtub. Anywhere. Nothing. No Proserpina.

Not in the halls. Not under the desk. Not in Remora’s room. There was the attic where Ray and Sunny slept. I never dared to venture there, but if there was even the slightest possibility…

I pulled down the latch and ran up the stairs, almost tripped between steps. That didn’t deter me. It was a dark space with lots of clutter. Bookshelves, swords, axes, weapons of various kinds. Artifacts. There was a wide expanse in the darkness and I searched around for a light.

“Huh? Demetria? What are you doing up here?” Called a tired yawn from the distant bed. Sunny shuffled up and sat at her bed. As she rubbed her eyes, I turned to her.

“She...she has to be somewhere!”

“Who? Remora’s downstairs.”

“No! Stop! Not everything is about her!” I snapped. “I’m looking for Proserpina!”

“Huh? Why would she be up here?”

“I don’t know! But she’s not anywhere else I’ve looked!”

I ran back down without a further explanation. Back at the front, Ray and Remora were huddled together.

“No luck! None!” I spat.

“Same here. We checked in the cellar. Front’s all clear,” Ray reported.

“I doubt she knows of the underground passage, anyway,” Remora stated.

“Why? Why do you keep acting so nonchalant about this? I get that you didn’t want her here, but that doesn’t mean –”

“I’m not,” she cut me off.

“You are! And if she’s not here…” I didn’t finish that thought. I just stamped my way toward the door.

“I know you’re upset, but take the time to think about this,” I heard her urge before I heard her approach. Saying such things did nothing to alleviate the reality at hand.

“If you cared at all, you’d help me!” I snapped, then latched onto the handle of the door and was prepared to leave.

“I am helping.”

“She’s right,” Ray approached as well, and they grouped up as if to mock my plight.

“You’re taking her side?!” I couldn’t believe it.

“I’m taking the side of caution. You’re under a lot of stress, and I understand that. But running in blind won’t help anyone.”

I huffed heavy, successive breaths.

“What...what else am I supposed to do? She was my responsibility. I said that I would keep her safe, but here we are anyway.”

“Yes. Far be it for me to say that I’m not worried either. I know what I told you, but that doesn’t mean I like this any more than you do.”

“Let me come with you,” Remora added, but Ray shook his head.

“Whoever sent this probably wants you to come alone. That’s what they’re expecting.”

“Sorry…” I mumbled.

“I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to,” he shook his head.

I knew who he was referring to, it was just hard to look her in the eye.

“I should...I should go.”

I turned back to the door, but stopped.

“Ray. What about that thing you used to listen in on Tony with?”

“Hm? What about it?”

“Do you have anything that can track my location?”

“Yes. It won’t be able to listen in on conversations like the other one, but it should serve the purpose you’re looking for. Wait right there.”

He walked away. Left me alone with her. Something I would rather I didn’t have to do. No. I could have followed him. It must have been that I was stuck in place.

I tried looking up, but couldn’t get as high as her face before I jerked my head back down to the floor. At least there wasn’t dust on the floor, even if I could see some footprints.

There must be something you want to say, I thought about myself and her as well. If I said nothing before I left…

“I...I sometimes forget what you’re like,” I let out. It was something. Close to what I wanted to say.

“I don’t see how,” was her dull reply.

Damn it. Why are you going to say something like that when I’m over here worrying about my friend?

“About what I said…”

“You’re under a lot of stress. I don’t blame you for lashing out. Question how I feel all you want. But I won’t let you guilt trip me.”

That stung. But it should have.

“You’re right.”

“You should be worrying about your friend right now,” she told me before walking away, to the back. I didn’t ask her where she was going, or why. As far as I was concerned, I deserved such a thing. Soon, Ray returned. One hand was balled into a fist and he stood in front of me, then opened up his hand.

There was a tiny pin, black and circular.

“Take this and attach it somewhere where it can’t be seen. It shouldn’t be detected by sensors but I would still take care to conceal it.”

“Thank you.”

I reached in my shirt and pinned it to the sports bra I was wearing. It didn’t stick out or was obtrusive, even if it felt weird against my skin. Ray raised an eyebrow, but said nothing to my gesture.

Without any further goodbyes, I raced out the door and headed toward the coordinates given on the text. Yes, I would still run into a trap, but at least my location would be known and if this person decided to go on the move, Ray would still be able to know where I was.

Outside, I stood in an open field. Rocky, stone floor. Moss growth between. I was where I was told to go and there was no one to be found.

It’s the exact time and place. Now what? Where is she?

My answer would come abrupt, as the rocks below me started to rumble and a low vibration hummed. I looked around and my legs shook, but there was nowhere to go as soon two large, metal pillars emerged from the ground and enveloped me. No, not pillars, but rather large, spoon-like claws. They clamped down before I had a chance to get out of there, then covered me in a deep darkness.

I fell and my back scraped against the jagged edge of a rock behind me. I soon felt my heart sink, as did I, and we both fell below, into the ground.

When I came to, I was still in the dark confines of an enclosed space. But it seemed that I was no longer in the clutches of those metal claws, and instead in a room. I stumbled up and reached around until I found a door. I turned the handle it opened up to a massive and blinding white light. With my arm covering my eyes, I walked forward.

“Proserpina!” I called out. Nothing.

What I walked into was a series of halls, everything white and blended together to create the illusion of a wider expanse, and not the narrow tunnel I was navigating. There were little lines on the floor against the walls which showed just how close together everything was. In the distance, there seemed to be a wide field with a checkered floor and a chair upon a set of stairs.

Some kind of throne?

Confusion grew as I walked forth, unsure what I would walk into. At least I had my knife.

When I entered the large checkered room, I looked around.

“Ah, there you are! About time!” Some man with a nasally voice who sounded like a crow cawing greeted, as he stepped forth from behind the chair. He had a long, black jacket with spikes on the shoulders of it and many metal rings pierced into the jacket. He himself had a nose ring, a tongue piercing, earrings, and long, spiky crimson hair. Not to mention was the heavy eyeliner and shaved thin eyebrows, and green eyes.

“Where’s Proserpina?” I demanded.

“Really? That’s your question? Not ‘who are you’?” He frowned as he placed his arm around the top of the chair.

“I don’t care who you are. Just tell me where she is.”

“My, how rude,” he hissed and clicked his tongue, “you’re a guest here and you don’t even have it in you to be polite.”

“Enough! Where is she?”

He howled in laughter and pounded his fists against the boards of the chair.

“Oh my god! You thought I would really kidnap her? I may be a criminal, but I’m above kidnapping! That’s so inhumane!”

I growled. He really thought this whole thing was a joke.

“Relax, relax. It was a prank, bro! Really! I just texted her too, lured her out back, and shoved her in the dumpster behind the diner, then put a lock on it! Look!” He brought out a button from his pocket and clicked it. “Now she’s free to come out! But she probably stinks!”

He stepped forward and I backed away.

“All I really wanted was to capture you. What need would I have for such a simple girl?”

“I thought you said you were above kidnapping.”

He made little gestures with his index finger in the air and looked up, as if lost in thought.

“Oh crap. Would this be considered kidnapping right now? Hmm…” He shrugged, then spread a goofy looking grin, much too goofy to look sinister.

“What did you want me for?”

“Ha!” He spat. “Here’s the deal: do you remember last spring?”

I wasn’t sure what he was referring to. There was much that went on last year.

“Let me refresh your memory: there was a bounty on your head. An organization tried to kill you. Then you went to their base and destroyed it. Theeeeen...you killed the one and only Jerry Mander. Well, I’m sure there’s more than one guy in the world with that name, but never mind that.”

“Ah. Yes. How could I forget?” I seethed. To think he knew of such things. Someone must have really done their research on me. But how much research was unclear.

“So here’s the deal: there’s a whole criminal underground you have no awareness of. May never meet or get the chance to destroy. People see you as a legitimate threat now. So while the contract Jerry had on you went away, and props on killing him, by the way, a new bounty has been set with a much higher price.”

I gulped.

“Now. I’m no one special. Not yet. But let’s say I’ve gone from a low level drug dealer to a respected member of the yakuza. You know what that is?”

“Who’s to say?” I grunted.

“Ha! Good answer! You know what I’m saying?”

“Just go on.”

“Anyway, anyway, exposition...so we know better than to target family. Well, most know better. Trust me, people have tried. But it seems you have an assassin on your side.”

Who, Remora?

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t know? Some blonde beauty has been hanging around your mom and shooting down our guys. Man, so hardcore.”

Blonde beauty? What?

“Anyway, I kept telling them: let’s not go after her family, it’ll only piss her off, and she’s our only target. Most didn’t listen, but I managed to convince them in the end. That is, they gave me the task of killing you.”

Now it was my turn to laugh.

“And you think you can do it?” I scoffed. “Don’t you know how well that worked out with the previous attempt?”

“Oh. I know,” he shook his head in shame, “I’m pretty sure those guys kind of want to see me dead, actually, given that I’ve failed so many tasks in the past. You know, they see me as a liability or whatever. Look! This ain’t about me! This is about you!”

I gave him a blank stare. I really wasted my time with worrying about my friend, and, well...everything.

“Where are we right now?” I asked him.

“Underground. Oh, not the criminal underground I alluded to. Just a little bit below the earth. We’ll just be sitting here a bit.”

“Why?”

He clapped.

“There you go! There’s the right question!” He shouted a bellyful, “see, as luck would have it, right as I was gearing up to take you on, I was met by a certain man with dark powers who also wanted to kill you. He said that if I didn’t bring you to him, he would kill me. So in the end, seemed like a no-brainer.”

My blood ran cold.

“Who?”

He put a finger in his ear and rolled his eyes.

“Does the name ‘Cronus’ mean anything to you?”

I shook, a jolt surged through me as nerves began to fire off.

“Cronus?! What do you know about him?!”

“Oh, I dunno. A bit here and there.”

“Are you one of his vessels?”

He held out his hands and shook them.

“No way! I’m just little old me, Czar Dean! I can just tell that dude is bad news!”

“Czar Dean? Really?”

“That’s right! Or rather, I’m Yuu Oumi!”

“Which is it?”

“Names are hard! I’m still figuring this stuff out!”

“Look, whoever you are, you don’t know what you’re messing with. You may think you do, but this guy shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

“Oh, I know!” He reached into his jacket and from within, he pulled out a metal baton and pointed it at me, “but I think I’m up to the task.”

“Task of what? Bringing me to him?”

“Yes! And when he shows up, we’ll kill him together!”

“...What?”

“Look,” he rested one elbow on his palm and with the free hand, he spread his hand out, “we can either fight him together, be victorious, or he’ll kill you and I’ll have gotten my money.”

“You think you can trust someone like him? He’ll probably kill you too!”

“Let’s test that, shall we? Weapon against weapon. Let’s have a duel. If you win, I’ll let you go right now. If you lose, that will prove that you’re not up for fighting him, either, and I’ll just give you to him so he can eat you.”

I knew I needed to defeat Cronus eventually. Hell, I knew it was only a matter of time before he showed up again. But…

“You’d just let me go? Just like that?”

“I may be a criminal, but I like to keep my word,” he took a bow. I still didn’t know what to call him.

“What about you? Are you really okay with him killing you?”

“Sure,” he shrugged, “I’m used to taking big risks. Most of the time, I lose, and I suffer for it, but every now and then, when I win, I win big!” He curled his fingers and opened his palm back up, “take this hand, for instance. I’ve had my fingers chopped before. It’s all cybernetic. Prosthetic. That’s just what I’m willing to sacrifice.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m a risk-taker! Now come on, duel me!”

I sighed. But if this was the only way to return home…

I pulled out my switchblade and unfolded it until it became a sickle.

“Aha! Perfect! I’ve got one of those too!” He clicked on his weapon and a metal ball with spikes emerged from the tip of his baton and it surged with electricity. My eyes widened and I felt ready to retch as shadows danced around the baton.

“Surprised? I came prepared!” He boasted.

As inconvenient as it was, I didn’t want to kill that man. All I needed to do was knock him down. Still, I was terrible when it came to restraint.

I dashed forward and took a swipe with the sickle, only for him to leap back, then swing his baton forward. Of course it was too far, it was going to miss me as well as my weapon. But I miscalculated, and the metal ball turned out to be attached to a chain, and as it swung forward, it tore right into the metal of my blade. Electricity coursed through it and I took a step back, then changed the shape of the weapon into a sword.

“These things really are handy, huh?” He beamed, then charged forward. I took a step back this time and blocked with my sword while he swung forth. He missed, but not by much, and the shock almost caught with my blade that had already chipped. Within that instant, the blade repaired itself.

As he ran forth again and swung his flail around, I ducked down and slashed across his legs. Deep red cuts formed and tore through his fabric as blood spilled onto the floor and he let out a salty gasp.

He fell to his knees and his weapon fell to the ground. I then stood and pointed my blade down at him. In the end, it was a quick, decisive battle.

“Keep your word. Let me go.”

“Ha,” he wiped the spit from his mouth, “you got me good. Looks like even with the same weapon, I was no match. Go ahead. Down the hall. The elevator is just where you came from. It should spit you right back out.”

Of course, it was too easy. I should have realized that, yet in the moment, I walked away, too caught up in the moment. It only took a few steps before I heard a swinging motion and something wrapped around me, metallic and cold. It knocked me down to the floor and I dropped my weapon.

“...I said if you win. You may be stronger than me, but that doesn’t mean I’m above dirty tricks,” he sneered.

I turned to him, a deep-piercing scowl etched onto my face.

“Whoa, there! Don’t you think Cronus would pull a dirty trick like this as well? You need to be prepared for everything.”

Why am I being so short-sighted today? I let myself get tricked. Not once, but twice.

“What is this?” I grunted as I tried to struggle free. It was hard to describe what was around me. They were like several metallic snakes, silver and constrictive.

“It’s another weapon similar to yours. A sash that turns into a whip, as well as a rope. Can bind practically anything.”

I continued to struggle to no avail. All I could do was sit and stew in my disappointment.

“Oh, and if you somehow managed to break free, it can shock you. Think of it like a series of eels.”

“Great. You’re speaking my language,” I scoffed.

“Now. We’re just going to sit here and wait for him to get here. How about that?” He walked over to his little throne, sat right beside it, crisscross.

I said nothing to that. What was there to say?

“How much do you know about these weapons, anyway?” He picked up his flail and it changed back into a baton. He tapped it against his palm.

“I know they’re not something you should be messing with,” I told him.

“Ha. Good answer. We found these things back when we went to the remains of that base. We expected to see the place littered with corpses, but as it turned out, there were graves marked just outside. Apparently someone took the time to bury those guys! Can you believe that? They even got the names right and everything. Like, sure, go ahead and display the private names of criminals. That’s a total liability right there.”

“It wasn’t me who did that.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Someone did, though, and what an oddball, whoever that was. Hard to say whether it was a sign of respect or humiliation. Anyway, that’s just a footnote. These weapons here, they’re something special. Do you know what material they’re made out of?”

“It’s said to be the essence of an angel,” I replied, even though I probably shouldn’t have.

“Angels? Really? You didn’t strike me as the faithful type, but God bless you or whatever the hell.”

“That’s just what they’re called. Cosmic entities, celestial beings, whatever.”

“Whatever’s a good answer! We had a team of scientists, chemists, all that jazz, inspect this material used to make our weapons. Do you know what we found?”

“No?”

“Simply put, the material was unlike any mineral we know. It’s definitely something, but unidentifiable. That isn’t to say it was fruitless, though. See, it turned out the material wasn’t a mineral at all. It wasn’t stone or metal or anything like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Simply put, it has cells. Cells that move, even when pulled apart and broken. Or, it doesn’t really break. It reforms and reshapes.”

It did seem to move about, and it was flexible enough to change shapes. None of that surprised me. Didn’t most things have cells, too?

“You may not be too impressed, but how about this: it seems to be organic. Not just that, as if it is part to something living. No, that wouldn’t surprise you, if you believe in this angel thing. Actually, there may be something to that: this material...it’s alive.”

“What?” I hissed out a whisper.

“It’s like we’re handling a living, breathing creature as a weapon. Breaking it down and reshaping it to our whim. Not only that, but a creature that refuses to be harmed or die. It does make you wonder, though, who found such a creature, and what is it?”

In other words, this ‘rope’ or whatever, was alive. Goosebumps filled me and I felt a sour, sick feeling rise. I didn’t know why. I should have known, shouldn’t I? That the thing that could harm Cronus was also like him.

Actually, I didn’t know why it was surprising. Just that for a second, it was.

I think I’ve heard something like the materials were made from the parts of an angel. Perhaps those parts were still alive somehow. Still shared the same consciousness as the rest of the body. If that’s the case, does it feel pain? Or is pain something only the human host can feel? Or...does it only choose to feel pain, to break, if they feel like it? Then, does that go for the parts as well? Were these weapons all a willing choice?

I couldn’t come up with any answers, just more questions. None of it did me any good.

“By the way, I’ve come up with a better name. Call me Kei Bou.”

“Are you going to stick with that name?” I groaned.

“We’ll see. Depends on if it sticks. I’m still testing it out.”

“I don’t care what you call yourself, just pick something and stick with it or I’m going to pick something to call you, myself, and trust me, you won’t like whatever name I pick for you.”

This guy. So annoying. And there I was, stuck as I waited for my slow death.

Time began to pass at a molasses rate. It really was a slow death. Every now and then, he’d try to chat me up, and I’d audibly groan each time.

“So, do you wanna play a board game or something? I’ve got some in the back,” he’d suggest.

“Hands are tied.”

“You hungry? I got chips,” he’d offer.

“Again. Hands tied. I’m not gonna let you feed me, either.”

I hadn’t eaten all day, so of course I was hungry. But I wasn’t about to let some annoying wannabe villain feed me.

“Anything good happen to you lately?” He asked.

Third time’s the charm. I had enough.

“Look, if this is your way of inducing Stockholm Syndrome, it’s not going to work. If that’s even a real thing, or if that’s just abuse apologia. I’m pretty sure I’m immune to Stockholm Syndrome because one, I’d rather just die, and two, I’m a lesbian. So good luck.”

“Oh, you’re gay? Me too. MLM and WLW solidarity! High five!”

“We are not the same.”

He held his hand out, as if he really expected me to give him a high five.

“Cut me loose and I’ll think about it,” I proposed.

“No way! I see what you’re doing! You think you can pull a fast one on me! All I’m trying to do is pass the time until he gets here! You can call it hospitality or whatever you want!”

I’ll call it annoying. If the big bad’s gonna show, I may as well wait til he shows. I can stay quiet. I can be patient. But this guy thinks he can just jabber on and on? He wants to know annoying? I’ll give him annoying. If I can’t do anything else, I’ll talk him to death. Beat him at his own game.

“Do you think people are inherently good or evil?” I asked.

“Where is this coming from?”

“Like, you know, there’s someone who could do nothing but good, and they’re a good person. They’re a good, honest to goodness, person. Do you think a person like that exists?”

“No clue. As for evil…”

“Yeah. As for evil, that’s another thing. I don’t know if there’s inherent evil, but I do think there is evil. Like, there are good deeds and bad deeds. I don’t know if there’s, like, a karma meter, or some tally on how many good or bad. I’m assuming it’s like, less a sliding scale and more the severity. Well, you can do bad things for good reasons, too. Like killing an oppressor. But then there are many who would see that as a terrible deed, too. And is murder ever okay? Like, really okay?”

“Lady, I don’t think anyone’s inherently anything. I’m good at doing bad things, so that’s good for me and bad for those who don’t like bad things. I don’t know how much more clear that can get.”

“Yeah, but you see, that’s taking away the nuance from a lot of things, isn’t it? It’s different for you because that’s the world you’re from. That’s your reality. Like maybe for your little clubhouse, you’re a real average Joe. But then the average average person would probably consider your normal to be evil. But then what’s evil for you? And I doubt you were born this way, and even if you, does that mean you had to lead the life you do?”

“What are you trying to do, reform me? Ha! Good luck with that.”

“No, not at all. I don’t consider you interesting enough for me to try to reform. That stuff takes a lot of effort, effort I’m not willing to put in. But see right there? That’s quite evil of me, right? Quite cruel? Not to give someone a chance, and for what? Laziness?”

“At least I’m honest.”

“I am at times. Which would be a good trait, but if the only thing I’m honest about is how bad I see myself, is it really honest if I omit my good sides? Do I even have good sides to be honest about? I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.”

“What? You planning on being a philosophy major?”

“No way. It’s pretty normal, I’d say, to have a personal philosophy. Mine is…”

I closed my eyes.

“I’m trying very hard to find the good parts of me,” I continued, “It feels like it’s harder and harder every day. I care about others. A lot. But I do terrible things in their name. I used to want to protect people. I still do. But rather than go on the defensive, I go on the offense. I feel like there’s a part of me that even enjoys the violence. Enjoys inflicting pain.”

“Well great! Maybe when this is all over and you’re still alive, you can be a contract killer or something! Plenty of career paths!”

I shook my head. This guy really didn’t get it…

“I don’t want that. I don’t like that part of me. But I have to contend that it is a part of me. So I wonder if I’ve always been this way, or if it just developed this way and now I can no longer go back. But if I can no longer go back, then maybe I can at least do one last heroic deed. If I were to eradicate evil...wouldn’t the correct course of action be to let myself die?”

I gulped at those last words. He didn’t reply.

“Yes, Cronus will still be around. But I’m sure the others will take care of him eventually. They’re more than capable. Even if I die, at least I can take comfort in knowing that Proserpina and the others are safe.”

Yes. That was the truth. I wasn’t useless, but I wouldn’t hamper things too much. I lashed out at Remora before being trapped here, made her go cold again. Proserpina was never in any danger. In a spectacular fashion, I alienated everyone before being trapped to my impending death. Bravo.

“Are you done?” He asked, breaking me from my trance. It was enough to make me want to smile. How far from done I could be.

“I doubt anyone is looking for me,” I replied.

“Even if they were, they couldn’t find you!”

“Yeah. Thank goodness for that. It’s funny, really.”

“What now?” I could sense palpable irritation.

“You know how people will say that characters need a goal? Well, don’t get me wrong. I’ve had goals. Plenty of them. But I’m kind of done with that whole thing...goals. What I’m saying is, I don’t want to be a character. At least not an interesting one.”

“Considering your notoriety, I think we’re well past you being boring.”

“That’s a shame. I think my only goal now would be to be someone worthy of being loved. If I could be that, I wouldn’t mind being boring, or not being a character. Just as long as I could be loved. That in itself seems like an impossible goal. But if I need one, there you go. That’s what it’s going to be.”

“Damn, girl. You really need some therapy.”

“Maybe fading into obscurity would be a better goal. What do you think?”

“I think I’ve had enough.”

My face almost lit up hearing that. But I had to play it cool.

“So guess what? Until Cronus gets here, I’m putting you in a cell. That way I don’t have to hear any more of this ‘woe is me’ bullshit.”

I wanted to burst into laughter. But again. Had to play it cool.

“A cell?” I asked, doing my damnedest to keep a straight face.

“That’s right. There’s a few rooms for holding. Usually for torturing people who owe money, but it will do just fine as a holdover. Now come, get up.”

I pushed myself up and wobbled a bit. He escorted me back down the hall. Upon the side of one wall, he tapped different places in a rectangular pattern until a latch opened and a dark, empty room greeted me.

“Oh joy. Solitary confinement,” I groaned.

“That’s right.”

I shrugged, and he kicked me in. All because I happened to be better at being annoying than him. Sore loser.

Once I was on the floor, he took a step back, tapped on the wall again, and the panel closed in until I was encased in a heavy darkness.

“Hewwo dawkness my owd fwend,” I mumbled. Maybe that was a sign that I had already cracked and it hadn’t even been a few seconds.

I closed my eyes. Why not? It was already dark when I had them open. Being alone with my thoughts wasn’t so bad. At least alone I couldn’t hurt others. Not even myself, what with this binding. Not even if I wanted to, out of boredom. Maybe I should’ve taken that bag of chips. Just to spit it back at him.

A few minutes passed. Or maybe just a few seconds. Damn, such a torture method was effective. Not that I had a great grasp of time to begin with. To my left, I began to hear some rumbling. Loose pipes, or maybe my mind making up sounds to fill the void. Either was fine. Didn’t affect me none.

“Aha. There you are,” I heard a whisper. Some rat, mayhaps?

“Psst. Demetria. It’s me,” the voice came in more clear as I heard shuffling sounds and it felt like breaths were right upon me. As for the voice itself, it sounded feminine. More refined than my squeaky high. Which meant…

“Wow. I’ve lost my mind to the point that I’m imagining Proserpina’s here with me.”

“No. I really am here! I’m in vent!”

“Oh wow. Memes.”

“God damn it, Look to your left!”

“Gee. I’d love to, but it’s kind of dark in here.”

I then felt a faint, vanilla glow emit to my left. I turned.

“The hell…”

Behind the glow was indeed the face of my friend. Brown hair, smooth skin. Quite pretty.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” I burst out. “You shouldn’t be here!”

“Neither should you,” she kept her voice low.

“No, no. I should be here. You should be safe at the diner. I’m fine losing my mind here.”

“Don’t say things that don’t make sense,” she scolded.

“Do you not know me? All I do is say things that don’t make sense.”

She scowled, then tried pushing her way out.

“Shit. This thing’s on tight.”

“That’s what she said,” I retorted.

“Again. Doesn’t make sense. This thing probably has screws. If we can just loosen them, we can get you out of here,” she suggested. Sounded real useless.

“I’ve already got a few screws loose. You should head back. Besides, hands are tied. They got me in bondage or something.”

“Can you PLEASE take this seriously?”

“I am taking this seriously. Turn back and save yourself.”

To my surprise, she actually did turn back. That light I had enjoyed left just as soon as it came. Then, aside from the rumbling from her shimmying in the vent, silence had returned.

...Only for a few minutes later, the rumbling to return and a swift kick tore the cover to the vent open. She then crawled out, legs first, and dropped into the room with me.

“Again, what the hell?!”

“Yeah, I’m surprised that it worked too. I didn’t think I was that strong,” she remarked.

“Not that. I thought you’d have left me.”

“One of these days you’ll get it…” She shook her head. I could only see her thanks to that faint glow from the flashlight feature of her phone.

“How did you find me anyway?”

“After I got out of that dumpster, I got back in the diner and was briefed on the situation,” she explained.

“And they involved you in it?!”

“No. I insisted, so Sunny took me here on her motor sled. She found an opening, but couldn’t fit down, so asked me to go in. So first I was tossed into the trash, now I just went into a dusty vent. Needless to say, I too have become a dirty girl.”

“Do you have to phrase it that way?” I asked.

“Blame Remora. She’s the one who called you that.”

Right. Her.

“Do you think she’ll want to see me again?” I caught myself asking without meaning to.

“She said she was busy with something.”

I’ll take that as a no.

“Come on, let’s get you out. To think you’d actually get kidnapped,” she remarked.

“To think you’d be the one saving me.”

She sat beside me and inspected the things clamped tight onto me.

“What is this?” She asked.

“Like a giant cockring. Or something.”

She nudged me.

“Don’t be so vulgar,” she scolded again, then tried prying it off of me. “Ugh. No use. Here. Maybe Sunny can help once we’re up.”

“How are we even going to get up?”

“It’s easy! You go in first, then I’ll push you.”

“You aren’t touching my butt.”

“I never said I would! I’ll push your shoes or something.”

“Look, I can...something...myself.”

“You’re right,” she sighed. “Can you do the worm?”

I spat.

“What?!”

“Like, can you wriggle? Shimmy your way up?”

“Yeah. I, uh, guess.”

“Okay, in the hole you go, wormy.”

I could have commented on that. But I showed humility and did as I was told, no snarky comment. Without further ado, I squeezed my way in and began to crawl. So went the arduous and awkward journey where I shimmied along like a very hungry caterpillar trying to become a very hungry butterfly. Behind me, I imagined the snickering and judging gaze of Proserpina, watching me struggle.

“I wonder how he even knew about you,” I mentioned while crawling up.

“Ray suspected it’s because the guy hacked into your phone’s call records or text records or something.”

“Sounds likely.”

Really, that should’ve been the first thing I asked Sparkledog (that was going to be his name if he didn’t stick with Kei Bou) back there. Maybe in hindsight it was obvious. Like, of course an unscrupulous fella like him would have found my phone number and just happen to be able to look into my texts to find someone to use against me.

Many times already I should have known better. Thought things through. Planned. Even knowing it was a trap, I was so narrow-minded and allowed myself to be captured. I had trained so much just to fight off Cronus and I somehow fell for the simple trick of an annoying nobody. It was as if I had been reduced to the annoying nobody that I once was.

How am I supposed to save anyone if I’m the one who needs saving?

III

Such burning thoughts seared into me as I wormed my way up the ventilation shaft and soon landed above ground with a heavy thud onto the rocky ground. Above I could see the bright, light blue sky with gulls overhead. The brown, the black, the deep purple rocks which surrounded me were illuminated by the sun in the distance. I could smell crisp, fresh air, and faint scents of the ocean. Off in the horizon were mountains and green, bushy moss. Little clumps of snow still littered the ground and covered up much of the rocks, but even then, the day looked beautiful.

To think that down in that vessel, there could even be such a thing as fresh air.

From behind, I felt a pair of hands hold tight to me (as well as the thing binding me). I tried to squirm, but to no avail, and soon I was lifted up until I was able to stand on my two legs again. Furious, I turned around to see a bright and grinning Sunny.

“Hey kiddo,” she greeted with a wave.

“I’m not a kid…” I groaned.

She ignored my complaint and instead leaned over and inspected the silver coils which held my arms in place.

“Whatcha got there?” She asked.

“Beats me. This guy said it’s like mine and Remora’s weapons, but that it’s also alive. It’s kind of creepy, though I haven’t felt it move around since on me or anything,” I shuddered while trying to explain and almost stuck out my tongue in disgust.

“Alive, huh?”

“I dunno. Just what the bad guy said.”

She dropped to her knees and continued to inspect it, even tilted her head, then gasped, as if some grand revelation came to her. I stared down as she bent her fingers as if they were claws and she was a bear ready to attack. Then, she...tickled the bindings that coiled around me? Or at least that’s what it looked like she was doing.

“What are you doing?” I groaned. Weirdness really was par for the course when it came to this stuff, wasn’t it? There wasn’t even a point in asking.

“Aw, nothing,” she stood back up, “I just figured if that thing really is alive, then it would be ticklish. No living creature can resist being tickled.”

“That’s some logic if I ever heard any,” Proserpina emerged beside us. But in that same instance that she said that, the coils loosened up, then danced around across me and brushed across the fabrics of my clothes. It felt less metallic and more feather-like. Soft, yet abrasive. I itched around and squirmed and tried to keep from making too much noise. Sunny, however, was having the time of her life, clutching her stomach and laughing up a storm. As she laughed, the feathery coils unlatched from me and fell to the ground. But it wasn’t done moving there, as it shrunk, then leaped into the air and attached itself to Sunny’s wrist. It then resembled something of a silver bracelet.

Needless to say, all three of us gasped. Then Sunny giggled, hand over mouth.

“I guess it likes me,” she cheered.

“I didn’t think it would turn into a bracelet. But then again, why not? It apparently originated as part of an angel, so I’m sure it’s capable of all sorts of things,” I noted.

“Whoa, so you mean, like the whole ‘threatens humanity’ angel?”

“That very one. The very same one that gave Cronus his powers, and hopefully, with weapons made from them, we can fight back.”

“Oh wow! I hit the jackpot! Now I won’t have to be left out of the cool weapons club!” Sunny jumped for joy.

It was nice to experience some light from all this, even if it was on the weirder side of things. Proserpina was more or less speechless and I imagined she had many formulas surrounding her head. Sunny, for her part, was immersed in the whole thing and had a goofy grin on her face while she patted her little silver bracelet.

“I’ll think I’ll name you...Stella,” she declared.

“What? Stella? That’s so basic of a name! Even calling my switchblade-scythe thing Death Knight was much cooler!” I cried out.

“Yes, yes. Not everyone can be as cool as you, dear. I was going to go with Three of Swords or Five of Pentacles, as those were the last cards I drew, but I figured Stella is simpler, and sometimes the simplest answer is the best.”

I sighed. Guess I couldn’t argue with that.

“Speaking of which, I gotta go back down there,” I glanced at the hole Proserpina and I emerged from, “my weapon’s still down there. Sure I’ve got my Yakutian knife and my throwing knives, but I’m still useless without Death Knight.”

“You’re not useless, hun. You’re just socially awkward.”

“That’s not what I mean!”

I felt a brush upon my shoulder and turned to see Proserpina in a bit of a shiver.

“Please. Let’s just go back home. Isn’t it enough that we’re both safe?”

Yes. That should have been enough. Except it just wasn’t practical. It couldn’t be enough; not while there were still threats out there. I allowed myself to get captured, lost a fight due to cheap tactics, and allowed myself to be tactics. What was all that training with Wendy for if I was just going to be sloppy and reckless? I should have been past that.

So no. It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t past that. I had to go back.

As I was about to slide down that hole and reface Kei Bou, the ground once again shook. Was he about to swallow us up? My heart’s thumps matched the rhythm of the quivering rocks and Sunny pulled Proserpina and I back before we could find out what was going on. As we fell back, a large mass of vines shot up from the ground and shards from the underground prison flew out. I shielded Proserpina and some of the pieces grazed me and scraped against the side of my back. I winced and hissed, but kept myself pressed against my friend. Sunny huddled back as well, but looked back.

“Well, if it isn’t our old enemy,” she announced, and didn’t sound too pleased.

I turned back to see a cocoon made of masses of thorns. It twisted and opened up to reveal the shambling robed figure of Cronus. Maskless, covered in cuts across his withered husk of a face. He limped toward us and began to smile. Even from afar, I could hear his words. Despite his weathered appearance, he spoke just as plain as he did before.

“You may find my appearance inconvenient. As do I, given that I haven’t fully recovered from our last battle,” he explained, “but worry not: I am not here to kill you all today.”

“Who is this guy?” Proserpina whispered.

“Someone I didn’t want you to find out about,” I growled.

“He looks like he’s trying to be some evil sorcerer or dark lord.”

“He’s not lord of anything. He’s just annoying,” I shook my head.

You’re probably in disbelief right now. Maybe questioning your own reality. I wouldn’t blame you. Angel weapons, creepy zombie guy. I wish I could explain. No. Explaining should have been something I tried to do from the beginning. I just wish you didn’t have to be a part of this.

“What do you want, then? It’s me you want, not Kei Bou!” I shouted his way.

“Is that one of the names he used? I wonder which one I will use once I take his form and his memories. This body is wearing thin as it is,” he lamented.

“You won’t be getting anyone else!”

His shameful expression turned to a shameless smile and he raised a bony arm up. With it came another series of vines shot up from the ground. Tight in its clutches was Kei Bou, the punkish redhead himself. As much as he had put me in a humiliating bind just a bit ago, I pitied him all the same. The vines on his wrists loosened as the harvester reached out and held Kei by his neck. He struggled and squirmed, legs thrashing about.

“H...hey, man! I brought you the girl!” He wheezed out.

“Thank you for that,” Cronus replied, “but I also know that you conspired to take me out. How amusing. Did you think that I wouldn’t hear? Do you know how much I know? I wonder…” He hissed out those last two words and his swollen eyes glazed over. It was clear what he wanted to do.

“Let him go!” I shouted and tossed one of my knives Cronus’ way. Strands of vines shot up and formed the shape of a hand, grabbing the knife before reading him. The knife exploded and the vines tore off and shook before withering away. However, there were still many vines which surrounded Cronus and he just glanced my way.

“Ouch. That hurt,” he gave a dull response. While focused on me, Kei swung his arm up with his baton and sliced off one of Cronus’ arms. It fell to the ground, as did Kei, and Kei ran off.

“Get out of here, Kei!” I shouted to him.

Cronus just glanced aside and let the troublemaker go with a look of indifference.

“Was that really necessary? He was just as much of an enemy of yours as I am. What use do you have to spare him?”

“I don’t care! As long as I can prevent someone from being one of your meals, I don’t care who it is!”

He boasted a haughty laugh.

“This guy, I swear,” Sunny groaned.

“Why, hello, Sunny. Where is your husband? Why don’t we all have a family reunion?”

“Ahaha, sorry. Ray’s busy right now. But you can get some quality time with me,” Sunny chuckled.

“Why aren’t you taking this seriously?” I called Sunny out. “You know what this guy’s capable of.”

“Exactly. In tight situations like this, it’s important to keep your cool,” Sunny turned to me and lowered her voice, then added, “keep Proserpina safe. I’ll take care of this.”

“But –!”

“You don’t have your weapon right now. Besides, don’t you want to protect people?”

Sunny ran toward the corrupted figure and pulled off the bracelet from her wrist, then swung it forward like a whip. It caught Cronus off guard, and the end of her new whip wrapped around Cronus’ wrist. She pulled and he dragged forward, then as he bent low, she lifted her knee up and struck him upward. She extended the rest of her leg and kicked him down.

No, I had no delusion that such a thing would finish him off. Close-quarters combat with a supernatural being like him seemed risky. I hoped that Sunny knew that as well.

For the moment, I sucked in the crisp air and turned my attention back to Proserpina. She stood, trembling. Likely a combination of both the cold and fear.

“This...this is unreal…” she broke down and fell to her knees. I bent down close to her and wrapped my arm around her back.

“This is our reality,” I corrected. They weren’t words of comfort. There was no sympathy in my voice. It just was what it was.

“How...how do you deal with this stuff? This, this, it makes no sense!” Tears began to stream down her face.

“It still scares me sometimes. It’s not a matter of sense or how scary it is. I’d rather be scared ten times over from this and stand up than let things like that guy hurt others.”

But without my weapon, I was just as defenseless as her, wasn’t I?

Dark, twisted vines shot up in front of us and flung rocks forward. I grabbed Proserpina and hopped back to avoid them. They landed next to our feet and if I was just a little slower to react, they would have hit us both.

There was little time to celebrate as more rocks shot up from the ground and I pressed into her and pushed us both forward as the rocks hit my back.

“AA –” I cried out, feeling the pound of the sharp, jagged edges against my back.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine enough,” I winced. Just a step more, just a harder push, and we would have both fallen to the ground.

“It’s funny. You’re shorter than me yet the way you protect me is as if you’re taller.”

“I don’t know how to take that,” I scoffed. I let go of her, then turned to see many worm-like spiked vine creatures with black, stone teeth. They stood up on ends like snakes and wriggled about. I held my arm out in front of Proserpina. What little good it would have done, as they lunged forward toward her face. Acting fast, I pulled out my Yakutian knife and sliced upward. They fell to the ground just a mere second before reaching her.

I huffed. To my horror, but to no surprise, two more heads formed from the sliced hole which once connected the head to the rest of the body. They were just as large in size as the original, as if all I did was delay their attack. To top it off, the split ends which had fallen to the ground slithered toward its original body and connected to the sides, forming what seemed like arms.

“Have you heard the myth of the hydra?” I could hear his voice.

“Have you heard the myth of ‘shut the fuck up’?” I retorted.

I wanted to turn, but if I did that, I would lose focus on the thing in front of Proserpina and I. But something kept nagging at me to turn around and I almost gave in. My friend beside me kept taking steps back and stepped back in sync.

“You know, Sunny, this is a neat toy you got.”

Proserpina and I turned only for a quick glance to see him bound by the silver weapon Sunny named Stella. He couldn’t move, yet he seemed content with that.

“Sunny! A little help!” I shouted over. She knocked Cronus to the ground and he fell with a thud. My worries weren’t gone, even with a sound that should have brought relief. It was clear he was controlling those things, even while bound by the weapon.

“If I call back Stella, he’ll be free!” Sunny panicked, looking between him and the creature that faced us.

“This thing’s growing more and more!” Proserpina panicked. The shadow cast over us and indeed, the creature kept building upon itself. It loomed and continued to tower, ready to strike. There were only so many steps back we could take.

“You’re wrong, Sunny,” he groaned, then took on a teasing croon, “this really is a neat toy, and against any other human, it would be great. But the difference between a human and I is that I can change my form.”

“Stella! Electrocute!” Sunny commanded and electricity surged through the weapon and sent sparks all over Cronus’ form. He wailed and cried out, and burned to a crisp.

Before any of us could celebrate, the creature swooped down and lunged into Proserpina, sending her landing on her back far behind me. I tried to reach out and catch her and cut my hand against the little worm things. They were all determined to take her. I flinched and held tight to my hand as it bled out.

“SUNNY!” I called over. I expected that she would try to catch Proserpina, but rather than that, she rolled away from the creature swarm which seemed to want to run into Sunny as well.

I ran toward the creature which stood just behind where the charred remains of the body Cronus was using lay. However, a wall of vines shot up and blocked my path. That would do nothing and I cut through it and ran through.

There Cronus stood, one stretched hand around Proserpina’s neck as he held her up in the air. Same dark robe, same bony, withered body, but without burns. In front of him were the same charred remains. Sunny grabbed her silver whip back and was about to strike him when he spoke.

“Careful. You try to strike me, all I need to do is dig one nail in and her head will slice right off.”

Sunny was crouched with her whip in hand. I had my knife.

“Two against one. Either of you could take me on. Maybe you could take her back, too. That is, if I don’t tighten my grip. If I don’t dig my nails in. You would be surprised how fragile humans are.”

My fist clenched against the handle of my knife. Despite the cold, all I could feel was a burning steam.

“Give her back!” I shouted.

“Why don’t you try and take her back?” He egged on.

“I’m your target, not her!”

“Are you? I’m really hungry, and I don’t think you would satisfy my hunger. Now, someone fresh, someone I could occupy, taunt you with…” He opened his mouth wide, with many rows of sharp teeth.

“If you so much as scratch her, I’ll –” What? What would I do?

He closed his mouth, but curled his lips to a smile.

“You mean like this?” He dragged one finger across her neck and she winced, with tears continuing to roll down. A thin, red streak ran down across her neck.

I gawked, spat out.

“You bastard! I’ll kill you!”

“How? With what weapon?” He teased, then from his other hand, materialized the switchblade. “This one?”

He unfolded it until it became a sickle.

“To think you modeled this after my own. In a way, I’m flattered. Well, take it back. Kill me with it. I don’t mind,” he tossed it away to the side.

I glanced over. If I wanted to run to it, that would give him room to attack me. Not to mention that if I had it back and tried to attack him, that would give him the chance to harm Proserpina further.

My magnetic glove might be able to pull my weapon toward me, at least.

“Go ahead. Take it. Kill me. And as soon as you do, she will die too.”

That’s what it’s about, huh?

“Really, what were you thinking bringing her along to a world like this? You could have been friends with her from afar. Now her life is in my hands.”

I knew I had to act. I just couldn’t figure out which move to make. Before I had time to act, a figure ran toward Cronus from the side with a metal baton held up in his hands.

“What the…” I mouthed.

Sparkledog leaped into the air with his baton and swung down once he got next to Cronus. Rather than the baton hitting Cronus, vines shot up and formed the shape of a blade, then swung forth and sliced Sparkledog’s arm right off.

Blood spilled from his arm and he wailed out and fell.

Cronus shook his head while the guy who caused me so much trouble in one day continued to wail and sob.

“You can’t protect those who are looking to die,” it was clear that was directed at me.

“Ha...ha...I’m not about to die without doing something stupid,” wheezed Kei, and I watched him struggle as he took the baton and shoved it into the wound where his arm once was.

“AAAAAAAA –” Electricity coursed through the wound and sparks flew around as Kei screamed. Cronus just glanced over with mild interest.

“Hm? Interesting,” Cronus commented as a row of vines shielded him from the near-explosion Kei’s little experiment was causing.

Sunny ran toward the light display and I wanted to stop her but she shouted before I even got the chance:

“Hey. I’ll try to get this guy out of here, so on the off chance he lives, he doesn’t do any more stupid things!”

Cronus didn’t stop her. He seemed neither amused nor angered by the whole thing. Yet it wasn’t complete indifference, either.

“Sparkledog! Get out of there! Don’t come back!” I shouted to him. He moved his head over, a disheveled state, and forced a grin.

“Hey! Is that your new name for me?! That’s so cool!”

“You may take him. I’d rather get some alone time with the little lady here,” Cronus decreed, as if he had any right to grant anyone such permission.

Sunny scooped him up and carried him on her back, then ran. He grunted, but she’d have none of that.

“Hey, you get the ride you pay for.”

I shook my head. All that turned out to be was just another distraction. I still didn’t have my weapon, Proserpina was still in Cronus’ clutches. I could do nothing and whether I moved or not, he could have killed her. Not only that, but now Sunny was off to take care of the guy, so I had one less ally.

“Now where were we?” He asked.

“What do you want? What is your purpose for coming here if it’s not to kill me? Why do you need to kill her? Did you even know she would be here? Huh?”

“Is this what you resort to when you feel stuck? Let me ask you a different question: why was it that when I occupied Rhea’s body, I did not receive her memories?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“You should know by now. When I take the form of one’s corpse, I take their memories with them. It should have been the ultimate humiliation for my enemy. Yet, I felt nothing. I had no memories to go off of. Why was that?”

“I don’t know! Why does that matter? Is that what this is about? Humiliation? What does that have to do with your goal? How does holding her hostage factor in? I thought you sought vengeance on Remora! On us! So why?”

“That is still what I seek. But I’m patient. I can take my time breaking you all, bringing everyone to a point of despair until they beg for death. No matter how many times you kill me, I will keep coming back.”

“If you’re fine waiting, you don’t have to do this! You can just wait until we all die on our own! We’re mortal!”

“Yes. But why not make every moment of your mortal lives agony along the way? Wouldn’t it be satisfying to keep you all on edge?”

“Fine! Keep me on edge! But leave those who haven’t done anything to you out of it!”

“Oh, it doesn’t have anything to do with me, but it has everything to do with you. This is your weakness. This is what breaks you.”

Damn it. Damn it all.

“Is this what you would have wanted if you were still alive? Some random person killing you just to get to someone else?”

“That’s what already happened to me.”

“Yes! But you took it out on the one responsible! Proserpina’s not the one responsible...she’s innocent…”

“She’s human. I don’t mind killing any human if it means it gets to you.”

“Is that so? What happens when all of humanity is gone and you’re still there? And all of the wildlife? The earth itself? What then?”

“I don’t have to worry about any of that,” he chuckled, “what are you trying to do? Make me rethink my ways? Reform me? Give me my redemption? There is nothing to redeem; I am what I am.”

“I wouldn’t ever dare try to reform you! I just want to understand you!”

He laughed harder.

“Is that what it is? I am beyond humanity. Beyond understanding.”

“That’s not true! You want to make me an enemy! Because if you kill her, I’ll hate you! But I already hate you, so there’s no point!”

“You’re so close. We’re already enemies. So take your weapon and strike me down. You know how many lives I’m responsible for. How many more I will be responsible for. So what’s one life compared to many? She’s a simple human as she is. What use do you have for her, when you have access to the power of an angel? So cast your humanity aside. Face me as an equal if you truly wish to end me.”

He tightened his grip and she let out a gasp and grabbed at her neck as she tried to pull him off. She thrashed about.

“Let her go, damn it! I’ll kill you! I swear!”

To think that nothing worked. I was all alone and there was nothing to do except fight. He’d kill her if I stood still. He’d kill her if I moved. So it was either wait for her to die and fight after or fight now and watch as he took her life.

I’m sorry. I really didn’t want this to come to you…

I broke out into a sprint toward my weapon. It only took a few steps before it happened: head severed from the neck. One clean blow. It was the thump I heard before I even saw what happened. Halfway toward my weapon, and it was done.

When I turned, there was a second drop, and the hand released its grip, Proserpina dropped to the ground. Behind Cronus was his severed head, torn from his neck with a silent bullet.

Footsteps.

I looked around, but saw no source of the shot. Desperate, I charged the rest of the way toward my weapon and picked it up. Proserpina was on her hands and knees, gasping for air. She sat up, one hand held onto the wound on her neck. Blood seeped from between her fingers and she winced, filled with tears in her eyes. I broke out into tears and ran toward her as well.

It must have been a deeper cut than I thought. Damn it.

Footsteps.

I rushed toward her side and watched as another sickle formed in the headless Cronus’ hands. His form turned to his side, readying to strike.

“No you don’t!” I roared and prepared to strike as well. However, I felt tight, rough arms around me that held me back. Then, another shot at the arms.

“Let go!” I shouted and thrashed about. “He’s going to kill her!”

“Was. And he was going to kill you too,” the cold voice behind me echoed. I looked up. She looked back down with a half-smile. “Sorry I’m late.”

Then, tires screeched. Nearby, a van circles around, thumping about against the rocky ground.

“I had Dr. Cole-Slaw do me a favor. It took some time arranging things. I admit, I could have shown up at a more convenient time,” she grit her teeth at those last words, then pointed her rifle forward and held me close. I cried into her chest and exploded into a confused mess.

“Why? Why?”

“I didn’t know who would be hurt, but I was sure somebody would. I was really against the idea of her coming out there for you...ugh,” she shook her head, “Sunny I understand, but she’s another deal entirely.”

“You could have stopped her.”

“I could have done a lot of things. Sunny said it would be okay, and…let’s agree I’m not the best.”

“But why? Why come now? After I said all those horrible things?”

“Hey. I’m cold but I’m not heartless. I’ll call you out on any bullshit you say, but know this: I will not leave your side.”

I fell. She just stood there, tall. I saw no sign of shivering from her and instead stood a solid and unwavering figure. Her jacket fell on top of me and covered over where I sat.

“How dare you make a lady cry?” She growled, then I heard another shot. Tired screeched and pulled up close. I peeked my head out from under the jacket and saw Dr. Cole-Slaw in all her glory pull out from the car, kneel down, and press a cloth against Proserpina’s neck.

Everyone was there, doing all these things, and there I was, a mess. Weak. Helpless to do nothing but watch.

“Let me fight as well,” I groaned.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to be strong all the time. You don’t need to prove yourself worthy. We help each other, don’t we?” Remora answered.

It still wasn’t enough. Vines shot up from the ground near where Dr. Cole-Slaw stood and she had to tiptoe around them. Cronus began to reshape himself.

“Please. Let me stand beside you.”

She turned her head back to me, smiled, then nodded.

I shook as I stood, wiped my face, then held my weapon tight.

“ENOUGH!” Cronus shouted.

Dr. Cole-Slaw, who had one arm wrapped around Proserpina and was helping her to the back of the van, turned to the supernatural pest.

“So violent,” Dr. Cole-Slaw remarked in disdain.

“Who are you?” I heard Proserpina croak out as the doctor helped my friend into the van.

“I’m the good doctor.”

That was the last I heard from either of them before Proserpina got in and Dr. Cole-Slaw hurried into her van. Just as she got the van moving, a series of vines shot forth, but only managed to scrape against the back before she sped away.

“So close!” Cronus roared, his head restoring into a red, veiny mess, resembling a sun-dried tomato. “How many more interruptions will there be? Huh?”

It seems he’s lost his cool. Good.

“Just us now,” Remora replied, a chill smile resting on her face. I too could breathe a sigh of relief knowing that Proserpina was safe, away with the good doctor.

“Really? I detect one more among you.”

“Who, Ray?”

“Don’t celebrate just yet, Rem,” I warned her. “We still have to kick his ass.”

“I didn’t say ‘hooray’…”

Behind Cronus, a large red sphere blasted toward him. Little orange, red, and yellow flames flickered and danced about the sphere and he noticed in time and shielded his face with his arm. It did him no good, as the flame…

…disappeared?

“An illusion?” He growled.

“All magic is an illusion! It’s the belief that makes it real!” Shouted out a raspy voice from a young lady. Both Remora and I stood in shock, unsure of the source of the voice. We had to step over to the side just to see: there in the distance stood a short (yet taller than me somehow), blonde haired girl with bangs almost covering her eyes, and a hooded robe over her.

“What the hell are you supposed to be?!” He spat toward her and his back turned to us.

“I’m Hecate, a witch! And you must be a raisin man!” Declared Hecate (a witch [citation needed]).

“Well, ‘witch’, let’s see you cast a spell against this!” He shot his hand forward and many vines protruded from them. Hecate tripped on the ground, but not from the vines, and just out of possible clumsiness. As for Cronus…

One shot from Remora’s rifle. Right through the back. The bullet zipped past and exploded through, along with the vines.

While there was still the lower half of him to deal with, and as he tried to reshape himself, I transformed my sickle into a blade, then plunged it down and energy surged and spread across his lower half until it all disintegrated.

After that, I collapsed yet again. Sure, I had much more energy, but it had been a day. In the distance, Hecate, also on the ground, stared wide-eyed at the mess.

I know things aren’t over for good. But at least for today…

No. I couldn’t even be reassured for the day. There were just too many complicating factors. But props to Remora, who in all her chill glory, called Dr. Cole-Slaw up.

“Hey, can you come back out here? We’ve got someone else for you to pick up.”

#writing #remoras full #story #action #thriller #drama #comedy #demetria #been a while since a demetria chapter #proserpina #remora #puns

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years

Text

Friday 17 August 1838

6 35

10 5

had Josephine at 7 40 – she said A- had had her bath and seemed better – very fine morning F71 ¼° at 8 10 from then to 9 wrote out yesterday to the bottom of p. 321 breakfast at 9 5 to 11 ¼ having sat reading the paper and talking to Charles and ordering with Josephine about my old Vignemale gaiters and latterly eating a few strawberries perhaps the last we shall have – A- very poorly .:. the horses ordered at 3 ½ to go a little way – afterwards on talking to Charles determined to go to Gèdre, and ordered the horses at 2 – A- if not well enough to go to Gèdre, can go out later – and take Pierre and go in any direction she likes – Cazos likely to be at home today as it rained yesterday and the sooner the matter with him is settled the better – A- had been at breakfast a minute or two before me and looked the picture of sulky ill-temper I hoped she was better yes pretty well I said no more but turned to the newspaper in silence tho’ looking as if I never thought of anything but her being ill I saw she would hurry off Charles was coming at ten very sorry she was sso poorly that I thought she could not bear to ride yes she could I was very glad of it so ordered as see above and A- walked off to my great relief what a temper! it is malady enough without any other I shall do the best I can and think of and care for it the least possible I think my present tack is the best that is to treat it all as illness never seeming to dream of the possibility of anything else what can she do or say when I only condole with her on her illness she told me only on Wednesday just before going to Luz she said how much better she was how much good the baths and doctor Double had done her I laughed and said well it is my doing no she never thought without thankfulness of it when she remembered how much it was by accident that she had Double she was always pleased with his giving her no medicine an English physician would have thought nothing was the matter with her but to be sure I had come with her here yes and here she will keep me well or ill tied to her every moment I never dreamt it would be quite so bad tied forever to such a companion? nous verrons now at 12 35 I have just written so far, and am better – Hail! all hail my journal! thou kind beguiler of many an irksome thought and many a solitary hour – thou friend of old! thou faithful mentor that hast calmed alike the burst of joy and grief, and taught my soul to hoard its best resources far from the reach of human gasp! the following is a verbatim literatim copy of the certificate written by M. Latapis – ‘Je soussigné Henri Cazaux, demeurant à Gèdre, déclare, pour rendre hommage à la vérité, que le sept du mois d’Août courtant j’ai servi de guide à Madame Anne Lister de Shibden-hall, pour l’ascention qu’ elle a fait au pic culminant de Vignemale ledit jour. Elle avait avec elle deux autres guides qu’elle avais pris à Luz (Jean Pierre Charles, et Jean Pierre Sanjou). Je certifie que tous ensemble nous sommes parvenus au point le plus élevé de Vignemale, et que, à ma connaissance, personne plus n’avait jamais monté si haut. En preuve de cette

SH:7/ML/E/21/0169

ascention, il a été dressé une espèce de collone [colonne?] en pierres, dans le milieu de laquelle nous avons placé une bouteille, renfermant un papier oû Madame Lister a écrit le date du Août, son nom et les noms de ses guides ; cette preuve matérielle durera long-temps, si quelqu’autre voyageur aussi intrépide que Madame Lister ne va détruire ca petit monument.

En foi de quoi à Gèdre le 17 d’Août

Signé en présence de Cazaus [Hij]

Alaubon

Jean-Pierre Charles et Jean Pierre Sanjou, Soussignés, attestent la vérité des faits rapportés dans la déclaration ci-dessus.

fait à Luz le 17 d’Août 1838.

Charles

how droll that the prince de la Moscowa should have unwittingly put me upon narrowing his own purpose! – I thought not of certificate – nor cared more for mounting the Vignemale than Mt. Perdu the ascent of which last mountain nobody believes – what mattered it to me – I made each ascent for my own pleasure, not for éclat – what is éclat to me? what is éclat to anyone? too often a dangerous bauble – the lightnings’ forked flash that kills the object it has fixed on – But come what may I’ll make an effort to tear the Cazos-laurier from this silly prince – ‘Hommage à la vérité’! ‘tis all I want – and I am not inclined me laisser tromper pour rien – tis now 1 ¾ pm and F73° in my cool cupboard – A- too poorly to go out at 2 – Pierre to come again at 4 – I left her lying down and was off with Charles at 2 20 to Gèdre – overtook a drunken berger about ½ way between St. Sauveur and the Pont de Sia and could not get rid of him till he turned up ½ way between the Ponts de Sia and [Douroucate] to go after his masters’ bétail on the Mt. de Mâle beyond the Bué – he and his master had drank 4 litres of wine at Luz. he walked unsteadily but safely, and his motions reminded me of those of drunken men in general but of the queer roll of his hips and shoulders and head that I have some often seen in poor Eliza Raine – I mused on this as I rode close behind him and Charles who said his conversation tho’ incessant was reasonable he observed on the new carriage road began since we went to Spain to go to Gavarnie that if cows or oxen were drawing a load along the precipitous part they would probably throw themselves and their load into the gave – he regretted there were no cabarets on his road as if there were he could drink a great deal more wine – we watched him along the precipitous part of the road he had to go just after leaving us – he got on quite well the cool air of the mountains and the perspiration he was in from walking would probably sober him before very long – as we went to Luz on Tuesday observed several men at work (1st time of our seeing them) beginning the new road (that is to avoid Luz) to St. Sauveur – at Gèdre at 4 20 Cazos at home sent for him to the Inn as also for the aubergiste himself who was at the Douane, and for his brother-in-law who was with him – I ordered wine and bread and cheese for them all, and, leaving my tartan cloak upstairs, went down into the kitchen, and staid with them all the whole time – It was sometime before Cazos came and we had talked over the leading particulars of my ascent – Cazos came perhaps in 10 minutes or ¼ hour and then joined heartily in talking the story over in everything agreeing with and confirming the statement of Charles and myself – I told him my femme de chambre had told me the people at Luz would not believe that I had got to the top but gave the laurier to the prince de la Moscowa – that was not right – I must have some proof to shew and Cazos and Charles and Pierre must sign me the certificate which I then read aloud – and Cazos, and then the aubergiste read it – Cazos made not the least objection to sign it – declared fully and openly that all I and Charles had said was true, and that I had got up to the very top and got up very well too – Cazos then signed and Charles, and the aubergiste saying was maire and could not sign these things his brother-in-law signed as witness and I paid Cazos the twenty francs as agreed, and said I, now you asked me 30/. on the Piméné – here there are five fr. more which with the 5/. I gave you on the top = 30/. and here is a 2fr. piece to go for what I was to give you on the top to drink my health – Cazos seemed much pleased – I desired him to consider the 5/. piece I had just given him to be for taking care, of my column and bottle at the top of the mountain – to see that nobody either destroyed the bottle or raised a column higher than mine – I then told him to drink his wine, and turning to the aubergiste said, Monsieur le maire, je ne demande pas ce que je vous dois pour le vin (I had just called for a 2nd bottle good vin ordinaire) mais voilà...... on which I put into his hand 2 five fr. pieces – this was too much for him

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to resist – his heart opened – he said I paid en prince (and in a whisper adding et meme plus) and said significantly mais je connais beaucoup de choses – vous avez bien payé – vous devez être traité avec bravoure – on this I begged him to tell me some of the things he knew – and in the midst of his fighting off Charles had taken poor Cazos to task about his letter to the prince and here a scene commenced of pro and con – Cazos denied having written that I had not gone to the top – I said if Cazos had been calumniated I would stand by him – all joining in begging Cazos to face the prince and have all cleared up – at last M. le maire explained that if Cazos had written as Charles declared his letter would prove, he had done it for money for his family – le mond was hard pressed here, and he hoped I should excuse the man who had made me all the reparation in his power...... poor Cazos owned his fault, and all present agreed to forgive and M. le maire our aubergiste promised to intercede with the prince and hoped I should do nothing against poor Cazos – no! said and held out my hand to the poor man, saying je ne [sens] que de regrets pour conduit envers moi – c’est une affaire d’honneur et je lui arracherai ce laurier à tout prix – rien ne me manqué pour bien le faire – j’air de l’arme, et de force, et de l’argent, et je n’en épargnerai rien – je lui arracherai ce laurier – the aubergiste agreed with me as to the petitesse of the prince’s declaration that he would not make the ascension if I had done it – and that it was not well to engage Cazos for Wednesday whether the weather was fine or not

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when it was known that I had engaged him for the 1st fine day – the prince thus compelling me to hurry my ascension – besides tho’ he had engaged Cazos for the Wednesday he the price still waited the arrival and did not go up till the Saturday – I hope, as I said to Cazos, that the prince had paid him much better than I had done – I saw the aubergists’ significant look – probably his princeship did not pay the man better –

vid. line 21. next page

we had now being above 1 ¼ hour – there had been a stranger (a guide? who said he had heard the prince say he would not go up if I had gone up) present a little while at 1st and 3 or 4 women – judging from A-‘s manner on my return from Mr. Latapis yesterday that being too late for dinner today would be terrible I bade Charles make hast and leaving behind me, as it seemed, the cordial approbation of all present Charles and I were off on our way back at 5 40 – the aubergiste (Mr. Palasset, maire) had said he recognised me on 1st seeing me again and said he was sure I should ascend the Vignemale – yes! said Charles he knew of our ascending Mt. Perdu – Charles! said I, il faut se depêcher – Mademoiselle ne voudra pas diner sans moi – poor Charles set off at trot, and kept my little mare at such a high jolt pace, that we were obliged to pull up for 2 or 3 minutes to read just my combs qui avaient grande envie de s’échapper – yet [not] withstanding this stoppage we came up with A- at the Pont de Douroucate at 5 8, and, passing by the Pont de [Soutant], alighted at home (having trotted almost all the way) at 7 5 – on meeting A- I had at the moment literally forgotten all about her poorliness, and was beginning to tell her all that happened when her manner at once refreshed my memory and I refrained from fatiguing her by saying more – Had Josephine – shewed her the certificate that she might be able to say she had seen it if she chose and that she knew for certain that I had made the ascent – dinner at 7 35 at 8 ½ - on telling A- I had ordered the horses at two tomorrow (Charles wanting to get some hay home from his grange on the Bergonz had asked me to give him till twelve but this I did not name to A-

she made no answer too soon? said I she replied crossly it was useless to ask when I had ordered them and that I ordered everything without consulting her no said I gently I am of a very different opinion but when I ask you you always tell me to do as I like she denied this very well said I then you had better order in future it is indifferent to me unless when I myself have something particular to do when I shall order for myself and you can order for yourself and here the conversation ended she soon after went to her room and I saw no more of her she will die of bad temper?

came to our rooms at 8 ½ - fine day – threatening rain this evening after meeting A- but held off – F71 ¼° now at 8 38 – on the shred of paper (common English thin foolscap about 1/8 of the shut) was written as follows

Mercredi 7 Aout [Août] à 1houre pm

Madame Lister de Shibden-hall

Avec ses trois guides

Henri Cazos de Gèdre

Jean Pierre Charles de Luz

Jean Pierre Sanjou de Luz

sat musing sometime before getting into bed – thought first time of Glasgow as a place of cheap ins[t]ructive residence till I can properly settle my affairs nil desperandum -

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beneaththetangles · 3 years

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Shoujo and the Bride of Christ (II)

FRIAR LAURENCE I’ll give thee armour to keep off that word: Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy, To comfort thee, though thou art banished. ROMEO Yet ‘banished’? Hang up philosophy! Unless philosophy can make a Juliet…

Well, yeah, that’s how it usually goes. Were I Fr. Laurence, I’d probably have gone for something more like, “Go play some Renaissance baseball analogue to exhaustion, sleep well, and let’s speak of this again tomorrow.” And yet, I think the poor friar has a point here. Because romantic love between man and woman is not only a life-changing discovery and a call to fight the good fight, but also, unavoidably, something of a comedy of errors, misunderstandings, and absurdities, some of that would benefit from some reflection and wisdom, especially taking into account that, given the centrality of love and its signs in human life, the errors may very well turn the comedy into a tragedy (which, as a matter of fact… but no spoilers).

I fondly remember my first date of sorts, during my Freshman year at university. It was a great time, I deeply cared about the girl, and I´ll always pray for her, wherever she is. But, you may have noticed the “of sorts” part. Man, it is amazing how two human beings can interpret the same set of facts so differently. You miss the signs, and in retrospect, suddenly, it is obvious. Not everything is as meant to be as it seemed. Ahem. Where was I. My point was that hope, self-deception, wild assumptions, strikingly different understandings of what is happening, rose-colored or black-colored glasses, dubious rationalizations or whirlwind rides from the summit to the pits of desperation are part of the experience of being in love, and may take us to absurd, or dangerous, or hurtful, or simply unhelpful paths. And there are some things we can prevent, too, if, without losing the hopeful, fiery, courageous impulse, we learn from our experiences, and try to discern carefully.

In the fallen world, we need this kind of armor, even if we also need to avoid become trapped in them. It may not be sweet milk, but we may need some of adversity’s Georgia MAX Coffee. To set our hearts ablaze, and yet think and decide carefully, soberly, set of being kind and just. We need a sense of humor, and a willingness to correct course. We need patience, to interpret what is happening rightly, to differentiate between truth and hope without rejecting either, to accept the less glamorous aspects of loving someone. Reflection certainly cannot make a Juliet, but may help me, well, knowing, courting and loving the real Juliet, and not just the one in my head.

In my last article, I mentioned how anime has a gift for vivid personal worlds which leads to great depictions of the discovery of romantic love. It also has a natural tendency towards introspection and flashbacks (slow motion means there is less drawing to do, while flashbacks sometimes mean that you can reuse some takes, or so I have heard). But from these technical conveniences, it has gone far beyond, and developed a remarkable artistic tradition of adding layers to the past and the present.

And so, you have many great stories in which you see again what you once saw, and everything falls into place. Tragedies and comedies alike rely on this tools, and so we have tricky stories of love, heroism, mysteries and fate like Madoka and Erased, Oregairu, Fate Stay Night: Unlimited Blade Works and Mawaru Penguindrum, Haruhi (like the protagonist, I just can’t escape Haruhi) or Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Teasing Master Takagi-san and Princess Tutu.

In the shoujo genre, this tradition is just as strong. Reminiscence, interpretation, doubt, memories, hopes, the past, are often put to great use. So, let’s go on with my crazy (but St. Paul-sponsored) idea that the depiction of human love between man and woman, as well as a profound mystery, illustrates the relationship between Christ and the Church. What if I were to say that the illusions of love and their comical and tragic consequences are also helpful there? Once again, please bear with me.

Tohru Honda, and the Ugliness in the House of the Twelve

Just as compelling, super-strong warrior maidens, childhood friends in love since forever and ice queens who happen to be all interested in the same regular-looking, not-especially-popular guy are far more common in anime than the average high school, shoujo has its own wishful tropes. Rose-colored ambiences, Cinderella stories, roses framing the scenes, golden bubbles, and legions of strikingly good-looking characters with secret pains that only the protagonist can heal are among them. Fruits Basket (2001) takes some of this approach to the extreme. As a child, Tohru Honda would weep when the cat of a fable her mother told her was excluded by the twelve animals of the Chinese Zodiac. She was the same, as other kids at school excluded her, telling her that she was the onigiri (rice ball) in their fruits basket game, and letting her wait in vain to be called like the rest.

Since then, she has grown into an ever-optimistic, hard-working, generous, and extremely kind girl. Her mother has recently died, and, not wanting to bother anyone, she now lives…in a tent near a river. She cooks for herself, goes to school everyday, and works part-time in the evenings. But, when her place collapses during a storm, the elegant but distant school ice prince, Yuki Sohma, who lives with his older (yet also good-looking) cousin Shigure, takes her to his home. Soon, a loud, messy, athletic, troubled (and… yeah) cousin of Yuki and Tohru’s age called Kyo comes to live with them. As it happens, the family is cursed: They are the incarnations of animals of the Chinese Zodiac, and transform into animals when they are hold by someone (non-cursed) of the opposite sex. Learning of Tohru’s extraordinary circumstances, they offer her the job of housekeeper. And so it begins.

So, as you can see, not so much MAX Coffee so far. In the episodes that follow, Tohru increasingly becomes the loving, beating heart of the cursed Sohma family, able to help healing their wounds with her kindness, honesty and simple commitment. Everyone, or almost, is enchanted. It is a bit excessive. Honestly, I had to endure some parts of the story. And yet, why do I like it so? The answer is that, despite all the sometimes far-fetched circumstances, Tohru’s kindness is genuine. And I will never disdain genuine kindness, or laugh at it. And it did pay off. I won’t be too specific, but it did. “I have described it” says our Sensei of the entire Fruits Basket manga “as a giant wave of blessing, crashing on and overtaking one person after another after another in ever widening circles, all thanks to an unseen and unacknowledged God who also breaks real curses in real human lives.”

The Church of Christ, the prophesied new Covenant, is also like that. It’s the ultimate Cinderella story. Each of us Christians has been chosen by Christ. He has brought us home to a love like no other, to words of eternal life, to true communion, to forgiveness, to the Bread of Life, to miracles and wonders. To the key truths that the truly simple and the truly wise perceive. To true hope, to a love our deepest being is thirsty for, that transforms and solidifies us, that makes us ourselves. Open to those we love, too, and to everyone in this world. The joys in my life in Christ are unlike any others I have experienced. And that light, that goodness, are very real. But from there, precisely because it is so powerful, it’s easy to get things wrong. The Apostles imagined themselves reigning in a political Kingdom of Israel. St. Joan D’Arc thought she would return home to Domrémy. Lovers say that everything will be Eden now that they have each other. I may conclude that something is a date.

Tohru is a very optimistic character, and a very hopeful girl. But those are not always the same. While she feels blessed and fights her daily battles, both the evil and the good around her are beyond her understanding. When Israel, freely chosen by God, became a powerful nation free from its slavery in Egypt, completed its Exodus, sealed its alliance with God, conquered the Promised Land promised to Abraham and eventually became a great kingdom with a temple, everything seemed right. God walked with them, fought for them, was present. The Law described true goodness, in opposition to the idolatry, ignorance and self-enclosement of the Pagan world. There were miracles. But the real, deeper danger was there, mostly unbeknownst to them. So the Lord sent them inspired prophets, to awake them, to make them able to discern, to provide them with the right interpretation.

And then, He sent them His own Son, and He gave testimony to the truth, and was rejected and killed. And so the true darkness of Israel and the entire human race, the true enemy, came into light in all its ugliness. God tortured. God killed. But He is risen, and He has shown us a way: Himself. This is the story St. John tells us at the beginning of his Gospel. There is a moment (again, I won’t be very explicit) when Tohru’s previous love and kindness are not enough. When her commitment is tested and no one can help. When everything she has experienced, everything she has achieved, is put into question, and she has to acknowledge that she was wrong. When there are no easy answers. When she is forced to confront the genuine ugliness at the heart of the house of Sohma, the cursed monstrosity, the law of this world, without assurance that all will be well. It is the time to listen with faith. To embrace Christ in the Cross, and walk beyond anything we can see.

You may have heard the story of Emmaus. After the Crucifixion, two disciples walked away. Everything had collapsed. They had seen miracles and walked with Christ, but now their hope was dead. That is our Tohru, too. But a stranger walked with them, and asked them what had happened. They explained. And the stranger said: “O foolish ones, how slow are your hearts to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary for the Christ to suffer these things and then to enter His glory?” It was. “And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, He explained to them what was written in all the Scriptures about Himself.” “Were not our hearts burning within us as He spoke with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?” Tohru’s Gethsemane experience was also necessary, and, for me, it was also the high point of the series. The character invested with a prophetic role also pointed her the way. And what happens in that place of darkness is believable, human, moving. Helpful.

From there, Tohru will be fruitful in a new world, because she can love in a way that can truly break the unmoving iron structure of her world. New possibilities of love are open. Being in the dream house of Sohma was not enough. For the Israelites, reaching the Promised Land was not enough. For a man and a woman in love, the moment of confession and corresponded feelings is not enough. For us, entering the Church, a personal bond with Christ, is not enough. We have also to experience, to witness, that whatever is born of God overcomes the world. That is our hope. From Pentecost to our days, Christ’s Church is prophetic, partaking in His mission as the teacher of true hope and true love. “He who hears you hears Me, he who rejects you rejects Me, and he who rejects Me rejects Him who sent Me.” She teaches us, warns us, reveals us the true meaning of what is happening, if we continue to listen, if we are humble, if we remain disciples.

How may this discipleship look in our lives? Tohru has many teachers. As the disciples of the first hour, we have the Gospel. In Emmaus, Christ pointed us to all the Scriptures. Also, the Catholic understanding is that, just as in Pentecost the inspired Apostle Peter stood up with the Eleven and proclaimed to the crowd the true meaning of what has happened, he being the spokesman, so their respective successors are invested with the charism in their announce and teaching, the Bishops in union with Peter. To them, it was said, “I have many more things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. But when He, the Spirit of truth, comes, He will guide you into all the truth.” I do believe that, from Pentecost and on, it has continued to be so. Also, Tohru had Saki, and Paul and the Acts tell us about prophets in the Church, and of ways to distinguish the true from the false. As the Spirit also lives in us, we have the signs, inspirations, even miracles, we may come to receive in our own prayer life. And lastly, we have a mind, created by God. We can reflect, taking all the above into account. And, as Tohru, the Bride of Christ, ears open, will learn how to be the Bride of Christ. I will. So I hope.

Only God knows what will happen in our lives, or why. Loving makes us both strong and vulnerable. We can be tempted, scandalized and hurt, sometimes terribly, even in the Church, by our teachers, brothers and sisters. We may discover we have hurt them terribly. In the course of life, we may suffer blows we didn’t expect. Our sins, our wounds, may overcome us. We may enter periods of spiritual darkness, or of depression. Signs may disappear. Everything may seem to collapse. But it is not over. The fight to truly love, to be ourselves in Christ, goes on. We will need to be vigilant, to check our assumptions, to be open to be corrected by God through the teachings of His Church. Because we need an armor.

“Finally,” St. Paul says to the Church, “be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.” Fight with courage, Honda-san, and remain open. A deeper love, a new world, a path of salvation, lie ahead.

Yeah, I know I should watch the 2019 remake and read the manga. I will, eventually. No Divine Comedy for now, but it is near. And, as you may or may not know, the lady at the top is Mademoiselle de Jarjeyes, protagonist of another iconic shoujo, which is… not coincidental! Until the next time, stay strong, and Happy Easter.

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Fruits Basket (2001) can be streamed at Funimation, Crunchyroll and Amazon Prime Video.

#Anime #Christianity #Fruits Basket #Fruits Basket 2001 #Shojo #Shoujo #Articles #Author: Gaheret

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pamphletstoinspire · 4 years

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Thirteenth Sunday After Pentecost.

by Fr. Francis Xavier Weninger, 1882

“There met Him ten men that were lepers, who stood afar off.”–Luke 17.

St. Augustine and the other holy fathers remark, that the words of the Holy Gospel are not only instructive, but that the deeds, of which mention is made, have almost always a spiritual signification.

Christ Himself gave us a manifest illustration, when, after the abundant haul of fishes He told St. Peter: That He would make him a fisher of men; also when He caused the tree to wither, because it did not bear good fruit. The holy fathers behold in the leprosy, of which the Gospel speaks several times, an image of sin. The reason for this comparison is very evident. There is a great deal of similarity between leprosy and sin which we should well consider.

Leprosy is one of those diseases which entirely disfigures the human body. It is at the same time a very contagious disease. This accounts for the precautions which the law of the Jews compelled them to take, in order to keep all those infected with leprosy at a distance from the others; on the other hand, we perceive the care and fear of those in health, not to come in contact with the diseased ones.

In the same manner, and still more frightfully, does sin disfigure the soul, and it is also very contagious. How just, therefore, is this warning: Avoid the company of sinners, especially of those sinners whose lives spread the infection by the bad example they give.

In this sermon, I will direct your attention to the kind of lepers you ought especially to avoid, lest the threat of Holy Scripture should be verified in you: With the wicked thou wilt become wicked.

Mary, protect us in our intercourse with evil men, when it is not in our power to avoid them! I speak in the most holy name of Jesus, to the greater honor of God!

Although the company of sinners, in general, is the source of many dangers, as Holy Scripture assures us, yet there is a certain class of sinners whose company is particularly injurious to us, and whom we have to shun as much as possible. The Gospel of to-day speaks of ten lepers. And I will draw your attention to ten kinds of sinners with whom intercourse must be especially avoided.

To the first class of lepers, parents themselves but too often belong. They are those parents who do not carefully instruct their children in matters of religion, who do not urge them to prayer, who do not guide them in the path of virtue, and do not give them good example; but, on the contrary, give scandal to their own family by their bad example. They are those parents who do not care for the practice of their religion, who are themselves not instructed in matters of faith, who do not pray, nor let their children pray; who, on the contrary, by cursing and swearing, teach their children even at an early age to do the same; those who eat meat on fast-days, neglect going to Mass on Sunday, do not receive Holy Communion for a number of years, ridicule the priests and the precepts of the Church in presence of their children; who encourage them by word and example to care only for the increase of their temporal possessions, to enjoy this life to its full extent; who, perhaps, by intemperance, immoral language, immodest dress, offensive demeanor, sow the seed of the vice of impurity into the hearts of their children.

Who can calculate the number of children, especially in America, that catch the leprous infection of sin from their parents, who are covered with it from head to foot! Poor children! And when it does occur that such a child approaches a priest in the Sacrament of Penance, what is more natural than that he should advise the child: Endeavor to leave your home as soon as possible?

Yes, there are actually such monsters of moral depravity, that we are obliged to exact from their adult children the promise to leave their parental roof, under pain of being refused absolution. Terrible!

To the second class of lepers belong children whose company can not be frequented by those of their own age without danger of corruption. Familiar intercourse with brother or sister may become an occasion of sin. And the same is to be said of neighbors children and school-mates. What pest-houses of leprous children the public schools are, in many instances! and what an account will parents have to render, if, without further inquiry into the state of such schools, they send their children to them!

To the third class of lepers belong those with whom,, sooner or later social relations, bring us into contact as so-called friends, comrades, partners, associates in business, who lead a sinful life.

Fourthly, the old proverb is often verified: “Tell me your company, and I will tell you who you are.” And in this respect, we ought especially to avoid the following scandal-giving sinners, namely: Willful infidels or heretics, willful contemners of the religion of Christ those who, although baptized and raised as Catholics, do not fulfill the duties of their holy religion, and encourage others, by word or example, to imitate them. To this class belong those who do not hear Mass on Sunday, never attend divine service; but, on the contrary, spend the Lord s day in idleness, in visiting ale-houses, in going out hunting, or in some diversion or other. Avoid all these.

To the fifth class belong those of other denominations, who make it a point to tempt Catholics to attend prayer-meetings or Sunday-schools, or to send their children. Beware of these.

To the sixth class belong those who are addicted to drink, and whose only thought is the gratification of their senses who pass their nights at balls, theaters, picnics, and other places of amusement. Shun these persons, and also avoid the use of intoxicating liquors of every sort.

To the seventh class belong all those who do not make their Easter duties, even if in other respects they act like Catholics, and wish to be regarded as such. They are persons who, as a rule, care only for worldly treasures and enjoyments, and who stifle Catholic life in themselves and others.

To the eighth class belong those who are wont to remain alone with persons of the opposite sex. If you wish to preserve a pure heart, whoever you are, young man or young woman, heed the following admonition, and follow it inviolably as your rule of life:

Granted that your intention is to marry, still you are never allowed to hold clandestine intercourse with persons of the opposite sex; for, as Holy Scripture assures us: “It is putting fire and straw together.” Yes, even if both parties are good and innocent, they can not allow themselves secret meetings, since these are always an occasion of sin. And grant that one does not feel any temptation whatever, still the other party may, and you will be held responsible. And when parties are already engaged, there is still more reason to urge them not to remain alone, so as not to give occasion for false suspicions and insinuations.

Finally, to the tenth, and by far the most dangerous class, belong all those who, by their words, dress, forwardness, or in any manner whatsoever are occasions of temptations against holy purity.

If you value your happiness and the salvation of your soul, shun such persons, and never allow your self, under any condition, to remain near them, or to have any intercourse with them.

Flee! Only then will you conquer, and preserve your heart pure and free from the leprosy of sin! Amen!

“Go; thy faith hath made thee whole.”–Luke 17.

What a treasure is the gift of holy faith! No doubt it is the greatest blessing which God, the Creator, has bestowed upon man, both for time and eternity. For in what darkness of spirit lives the man without faith! how weak is he in the practice of virtue! how feeble in the combat against the world, the flesh, and the devil! And, on the other hand, how brilliant the light which the sun of faith sheds upon man's path! for revelation gives him definite and satisfactory information about God, about the world–its creation, its destiny, and all that concerns us as human beings.

It is faith which clearly explains moral evil in this world, and likewise the origin and cause of all the tribulations and adversities with which we are obliged to contend during our brief and much-troubled life. And it is faith, again, which teaches us how God, in His infinite mercy, has sent us salvation through Jesus Christ.

But it is not mere faith which will save us; it is not because we professed the belief of the Catholic Church; but because we have lived according to our faith, and have performed our duties in the manner which our faith prescribes, that we shall be saved. In other words: If we, as children of the one saving Church, really wish to be saved, the words of St. Paul must be verified in us: “The just man lives by faith.” Let us to-day consider how this assertion of the Apostle is to be understood.

Mary, thou who hast believed, and whose life has been such a glorious testimony of the faith which animated thee, bless us, that we may follow thy example, and live according to our faith! I speak in the holy name of Jesus, to the greater honor of God!

I said, that the greatest blessing which the Lord has conferred upon us, and for which we can never be sufficiently grateful, is the happiness of being children of the one true Church. This is apparent from what I have remarked in the introduction, regarding the light which she imparts concerning our existence and our destiny; and because she offers us also the means to advance in the way of salvation.

This grace appears the more important and precious when we remember that, until the present time, so large a portion of mankind were deprived of it.

It is, therefore, our most sacred duty to prove our gratitude by making a proper use of the gift of faith; that, after having fought and conquered, as true children of the Church militant, we may, for all eternity, share the joy and glory of the victory with the Church triumphant.

And the better to appreciate the happiness of being called to the true, and therefore only saving Church, let us first consider the many nations that have lived in this world before the advent of Christ. The Egyptians, Persians, Greeks and Romans, under whose sway the world once trembled, were all denied the blessing to be children of the true Church.

Then, since the advent of Christ on this earth, how many millions of heathens have lived during these two thousand years that have almost passed, and how many are still living upon earth!

Furthermore, what a number of infidels, heretics, schismatics, Jews and Turks have, since the time of Christ, languished in the darkness of error! What would be our fate for all eternity if God had permitted us to be born in heathen lands, or to spend our lives among infidels?

Our Lord has chosen us to be the children of His Church, without any merit of our own. What an inducement for us to thank God, and, by our lives, to prove the sincerity of our gratitude!

What our duties are in this respect, and what God demands of us, is, that by our lives we give testimony of the truth and sanctity of our faith. If that were not the case, what would it avail us to be Catholics? Does not Christ Himself affirm, that of him “to whom much has been given, much shall be required? ” And again: “If I had not come and spoken to them, they would have no sin: but now they have no excuse for their sin.”

St. James reminds us of our duties by still more forcible language. He says: “Thou believest that there is one God. Thou dost well; the devils also believe and tremble. But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead?”

As to the qualities which should characterize our faith, in order that we may be saved by it, I will say: Our faith, in the first place, must be complete, which means not only that we believe all revealed truth without the admission of a willful doubt; but, more over, that we be instructed, as well as possible, in matters of faith, so that all its doctrines may be a source of enlightenment, encouragement, and consolation for us, and we may be thus enabled, when questioned by non-Catholics, to give an explanation of all the truths which our holy faith teaches, as the Christians were able to do in the time of the Apostles, and in the first centuries of Christianity.

This does not imply that we may be satisfied with the mere knowledge of the doctrines of faith, with learning them by heart, so as to fit ourselves for the reception of the Holy Sacraments; but it signifies, more over, that we must embrace every opportunity, and do our utmost to instruct others in the truths of our holy faith, and thus to bring them also to a knowledge of the same. But how small is the number of the Christians that do this! Many who call themselves Catholics are only superficially instructed in the doctrines of their Church, and hence can not do this. For this reason, every one should seek the company of the well-in-structed, and also accept the assistance which is offered him by the numerous books and pamphlets published for this purpose.

In the second place, ours must be a faith which enlightens; that is to say, not a faith in the letter of revelation; but one whose light clearly indicates the way of salvation, and which enables us to discern the particular state to which God has called us, and the means which He has given us, according to our vocation, that as children of God, we may serve Him and be made happy.

It must, likewise, be a living faith, an active faith, replete with the love of God and our neighbor. The first thing necessary in this respect, and which will prove that our faith is active, is, that the considerations of the truths of our holy faith incite us to use all means to preserve our souls free from the leprosy of sin. If all sins and vices, even when viewed in the light of reason, seem so detestable, how much more when we regard the capital sins of pride, covetousness, anger, envy, enmity, dissension, gluttony and lust, in the light of faith; and when we consider how much our Lord has suffered for us, to save us from the evil of sin, and regard the means He has left us for this purpose, in His Church, by the institution of the Sacraments! Who does not see from this, how abominable is sin in a child of the Church contemning all this, and how great therefore will be the extent of the punishment which awaits him in eternity?

That our faith may lead us to salvation, it must also be a sanctifying faith; first, as regards ourselves, that it urge us to follow in the footsteps of Christ and his saints, by the zealous practice of Christian virtues, for which the Church has provided us with so many and so efficacious means. But it must also be sanctifying with regard to others, in compliance with the advice of Christ: “So let your light shine before men that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father Who is in heaven,” that they may be induced to profess the true faith, and to live according to it.

Finally, our faith must be firm and constant, that we may ever be prepared to sacrifice all, even life itself, in defense of our belief.

Examine, question yourself, whether these are the qualities of your faith. Are you thoroughly instructed, devoid of sin, actuated with a desire for holiness; and, at the same time, firm and constant in the practice of virtue? If not, then you are in a pitiable condition; perhaps infidels and heretics are then leading a far better life than you; then I fear Christ will one day, as your Judge, pronounce this sentence against you: Depart from me; your faith condemns you; because you have professed Me with your lips, but by your life you have denied Me! Amen!

General Confession by Fr. Johann Evangelist Zollner, 1883 “Go, show yourselves to the priests.”–Luke, 17: 14.

In the Old Testament, all lepers who had been cleansed from leprosy, either in a natural way or by a miracle, were to be examined by the priests, whose duty it was to declare them clean. Before this declaration had been made they were considered unclean, and were obliged to abstain from all intercourse with the healthy. In the New Testament, all Christians who are contaminated with the spiritual leprosy of sin, must show themselves to the priests, that is, they must confess to them their sins, that they may not only be declared clean, but that they may be really cleansed; for sacramental confession is the means ordained by Christ for the remission of sins. We may distinguish confession as ordinary and extraordinary. The ordinary confession consists in accusing ourselves of the sins committed since our last confession; the extraordinary confession is that which extends itself over the sins of the whole life, or of a great part of it. As this extraordinary or general confession is very important, eternal salvation even sometimes depending upon it, I shall speak of it today, and answer the three following questions:

I. To whom is a general confession necessary? II. To whom it is useful? III. When is a general confession necessary?

Part I.

A general confession is necessary whenever the previous confessions were invalid; for invalid confessions cannot be rectified and amended in any other way than by a repetition of them, i.e., by a new confession of the sins already confessed. There are six classes to whom a general confession is necessary for salvation.

1. The first class comprises those who through shame or fear conceal a sin which they know to be mortal, or in regard to the mortal character of which they entertain at least grave doubts. Every confession in which a mortal sin is knowingly and willfully concealed is invalid. The same holds good of confessions in which the number of mortal sins is not truthfully given, or purposely diminished, or in which essential circumstances which change the nature of sin are left out. He who, for instance, says that he committed the vice of impurity three times, knowing that he committed it oftener, confesses invalidly. If a married person has sinned carnally with a single person, and does not add that he or she is married, his or her confession is also invalid, provided he or she purposely conceals this circumstance. All those who have concealed anything that should have been confessed, have confessed invalidly; and if they wish to save their souls, nothing remains but that they repeat their confessions, i.e., make a general confession.

2. The second class comprises those who leave out mortal sins or aggravating circumstances, or such as change the kind of sin; because they either do not examine their conscience at all, or examine it only superficially. Every penitent must diligently examine his conscience and spend as much time in the examination as is requited for the knowledge of the sins committed, together with their number and circumstances. He who on account of a totally neglected or very careless examination of conscience does not perceive what he is bound to confess, and therefore does not confess it, receives the Sacrament of Penance sacrilegiously, and his confession is as invalid as if he had knowingly concealed some sin. For this reason all those who confess only once a year are in danger of making sacrilegious confessions. As they mostly live in thoughtlessness and forgetfulness of salvation, they ought, in order to overlook nothing, to examine their conscience very carefully, but this they frequently neglect; they think only superficially and hastily of their sins; and the whole business of the examination of conscience is done in a few minutes. How is it possible in such a way to come to the knowledge of all the sins which a man has committed in the space of a year? Hence it is that many confessions are invalid from the want of a proper examination of conscience. Now all these invalid confessions must be repeated and rectified by a general confession.

3. The third class comprises those who at confession have no true contrition for their sins. Most of the invalid confessions that are made, are perhaps so made from the want of contrition. How many are there who are not sorry at all for having offended God! They confess from habit; they do not detest their sins in the least, nor do they change the disposition of their mind. How many are there whose contrition is not universal! They are infected with certain favorite sins, to which they cling with all their soul, and from which they will not detach themselves. How many are there whose contrition is not supernatural! They are not grieved on account of their sins, but on account of temporal loss, temporal shame and punishment. All these confess invalidly, because they lack true contrition; and they must repair these bad confessions by a general confession.

4. The fourth class comprises those who make no firm resolution of amendment. This resolution is a necessary consequence of contrition, and is therefore absolutely necessary for the forgiveness of sin. He who is not resolved not to offend God, at least by mortal sin, confesses invalidly. And from the want of this firm resolution many invalid confessions are made. If you never show an amendment of life; if shortly after confession you fall back into your former vices of unchaste conversation, of fornication, of drunkenness, of cursing and swearing, it is most assuredly a sign of a want of a firm purpose of amendment.

5. The fifth class comprises those who after confession are not willing to shun the proximate occasion of sin, which they could shun, and who did not employ the necessary means of amendment. Contrition and an earnest resolution are most assuredly wanting to such penitents; for if they really hate and detest their sins and are willing to amend their lives, they will gladly make use of the means which are required for that amendment, and which are a preventive against relapse. Those who by experience know that whenever they enter a saloon they become intoxicated, and who yet continue to frequent them; also those who fall repeatedly into sin with a person of the opposite sex, and yet continue to live under the same roof; those who make no use of the remedies prescribed by their confessor as absolutely necessary for an amendment of life, confess invalidly, and can find grace with God only by a general confession and amendment of life.

6. The sixth class comprises those who make no restitution of ill-gotten goods, nor repair damages inflicted on others, who practice injustices and impositions in business transactions, and continue them after confession; and lastly, all those who, living in enmity, refuse to be reconciled with their neighbor.

Now examine your conscience and see if you do not find sufficient reason to doubt the validity of some of your former confessions, from failure to comply with the conditions necessary for the forgiveness of sin. If you do, go, show yourselves to the priests, and make a general confession.

Part II.

A general confession is useful and advisable to all those who have never made one. This is a rule admitting of few exceptions.

1. General confession is one of the principal means to obtain a true knowledge of the state of your soul. “If you set a forest on fire on all sides,” says Blessed Leonard of Port Maurice, “you will be surprised at seeing how great a multitude of wild beasts, wolves, bears and foxes were hidden in its coverts.” You witness a similar effect when you make a general confession, by which you set your conscience on fire on all sides. How great may appear the multitude of sins concealed from you heretofore! Many Christians who resolved to make a general confession only as an act of devotion, avow after its performance that they discovered sins and causes of uneasiness of which they had never thought before.

2. By general confession our heart becomes more contrite. In an ordinary confession our contrition is seldom very profound, because we do not know ourselves to be guilty of many and grievous sins. But it is different in a general confession. We see all the wild beasts of our sins, the monsters of our own soul, on the path of our past life, from our childhood to this day. This bewildering sight urges us to sigh with King Esdras: “My God, I am confounded, and ashamed to lift up my face to thee; for our iniquities are multiplied over our heads; and our sins are grown up even unto heaven (1 Esdras, 9: .6).” But the greater our contrition, the greater is our certainty of a worthy reception of the Sacrament of Penance and the more abundant the sacramental graces, so that we may obtain even the release of all or nearly all the temporal punishment due to our past sins.

3. The result of a general confession is also that we make firmer purposes of amendment than is the case in ordinary confessions. He who once resolves to make a general confession, has also the earnest will to amend his life and from henceforth to be solicitous for the salvation of his soul. This resolution is still more increased when, in the course of the general confession, we come to a clear knowledge of our sins and see how often and how grievously we have offended God; how ungrateful we have been to him for all his graces and benefits; and in what peril our salvation has been. And if then we receive the priest's absolution of all the sins of our past life, shall not this be a motive for us to remain faithful to our promises?

History and experience prove that a general confession is one of the most effectual means for a thorough and permanent change of life. How many sinners who confessed for years and always relapsed into their former sins, have amended their life after a general confession! And how many of them have by their penitential fervor reached a high degree of holiness! Even some of them, who after a general confession relapsed, rose again from their fall, for conscience gave them no peace till they resolved by a sincere confession to be reconciled again with God. Hence it is that most penitents date their conversion from the time of their general confession.

4. From this it follows that a general confession is the source of great inward peace. William, Duke of Aquitaine, after he had made his general confession to St. Bernard, felt a sweet peace and heavenly joy, such as he had never before experienced in the midst of all the joys and pleasures of the world. In like manner does every sinner, in consequence of a sincere general confession, experience the delight of heart which King David felt when he exclaimed: ”How lovely are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts! my soul longeth and fainteth for the courts of the Lord. Better is one day in thy courts above thousands in the pleasures of the world (Ps. 83: 2-11).”

5. Finally, by a general confession the salvation of our soul is made more secure. Suppose that you have not been careless in your former confessions, as many lukewarm Christians are, you do not know whether you have every time complied with the conditions which are required for a valid confession. At all events, it might be possible that in some of your former confessions you may not have sufficiently examined your conscience, may have had no true contrition with a firm purpose of amendment, or may have concealed something which you were bound to confess. In such a case you have confessed invalidly, and therefore all your subsequent confessions have been invalid. Do you not then act more securely when you make a general confession? Would it not be criminal negligence for you to neglect the many opportunities which are afforded you for making a general confession, and without such a confession to pass into eternity? The solicitude to secure their salvation as much as possible and to die quietly is one, of the principal motives why all good Christians make a general confession. A general confession, therefore, is necessary and advisable to all Christians who have never made one.

Part III.

When is a general confession necessary?

1. It is necessary for every one who earnestly resolves to amend his life. Without such a resolution no confession is valid, whether it be an ordinary or a general confession. He who makes a general confession must be determined at any cost to shun evil inclinations, to put off sinful habits, and to lead a penitential life, because otherwise the general confession would be invalid. Every sinner has days and hours in which he deeply feels the misery of his sins and is urged to put an end to this misery. These are days and hours of grace, which God gives to man to save his soul. The sinner must make good use of these times of grace; for if he permits them to pass by without a thorough confession, he runs the risk of dying impenitently and of being delivered to eternal perdition.

2. When one changes his state of life; especially those who enter into matrimony. Most young people do not comply with the duties of this state as they ought; they live heedlessly, yield to many excesses, and confess often invalidly for the want of contrition or resolution or sincerity. How ill would it be with them if they should enter into matrimony without a general confession! They would begin that state with a triple sacrilege, therefore not with God, but with the devil. What can be expected from such a matrimony? How can it be expected of such married people to live contentedly and happily together, fullfil their duties and endeavor with their children to increase the number of the elect? It is therefore necessary for all those who enter into the nuptial state, to make a general confession before they receive the Sacrament of Matrimony.

3. When one retires from business to rest. Many Christians in their business life think little of God and the salvation of their souls; they accommodate themselves to the principles of the world, and burden their conscience with many sins; what can be more advisable on retiring from active business life than to make a general confession, in order to set the affairs of their conscience in order, and to devote the time of rest to the atonement of their sins and to the preparation for a good death?

4. At the time of a mission or a Jubilee. At such a time many spiritual exercises are performed; the word of God is preached frequently and forcibly and the faithful are earnestly exhorted to renew themselves in spirit and to bring forth fruits worthy of penance. The confessors have at the time of a Jubilee or mission greater faculties than at other times; they can especially absolve from all cases reserved to the Pope, with only a few exceptions. Moreover, God imparts at such times greater graces to sinners, often even extraordinary graces, which he is not wont to give at other times. What important reasons then have all who never made a general confession, to make it and to set the business of their salvation in order. He who suffers such times of grace to pass without profiting by them exposes himself to the danger of persevering in sin and of dying a bad death. This is corroborated by history and experience.

5. Finally at the hour of death. It is assuredly not wise to defer the general confession to the death-bed, for no one knows whether he will then be able to confess. Death may overtake him suddenly, or he may lose his senses and speech, when confession becomes impossible. Christians who are solicitous for the salvation of their soul do not defer their general confession to their death-bed. If it should, however, be the case that one never made a general confession in his life, he should do it at least on his death-bed, for, as already remarked, no one should go out of this world without having made a general confession.

Peroration.

After having explained to you why a general confession is necessary, useful and advisable, and at what times such a confession should be made, I conclude my instruction with a history of a certain nobleman who, in his youth lived a careless life, but having entered into himself, made a spiritual retreat and a very good general confession after it. After this confession he experienced sweet peace and heavenly joy; and as often as he thought of it, tears of joy trickled down his cheeks. Coming to his death-bed after a few years, he said to those who stood around his bed: “I would have perished eternally if I had not made a general confession. When I think of that confession, it appears to me to be a letter of introduction into heaven.” A quarter of an hour before he died he requested one of the attendants to read for him the good resolutions which he had made at his general confession and which he had written down. At the reading of each of these resolutions joy beamed from his face, for he had faithfully kept them, and thus he died with all the signs of a good death. Go and do likewise; make a good general confession, keep the promises and resolutions which you make, serve God with fidelity, and you will die well and be saved. Amen.

#13th sunday after pentecost

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