Personal Sanctuary

"There is a place deep within my soul where no foe can intrude and no tyrant can conquer." —Sarlena, paladin of the Northern Verge

Artist: Howard Lyon TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

The Environment's Role in Spiritual Growth

Spiritual growth is an inward journey that involves deepening self-awareness, a connection to a higher purpose, and a pursuit of inner peace and enlightenment. Though one might perceive spiritual growth as purely internal, the environment plays an instrumental role in shaping this voyage.**The Outer Reflects the Inner**: Spirituality isn’t limited to the realm of meditation, prayers, or religious…

View On WordPress

Elegant Grandeur: Inside Tiger Woods' Jupiter Island Home

This captivating image showcases the luxurious interior of Tiger Woods' residence in Jupiter Island, Florida. The photo highlights the sophisticated blend of modern and traditional design elements, emphasizing comfort, style, and personalization. The interior is marked by high-end finishes, eco-friendly innovations, and a seamless integration of smart home technology, reflecting Tiger Woods' commitment to sustainability and modern living. The space radiates a sense of understated elegance, perfectly capturing the essence of luxury interior design. Visit: https://www.omnihomeideas.com/design/celebrity-homes/tiger-woods-house-in-jupiter-island/

Crafting a Personal Sanctuary

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_raw_html]JTNDYSUyMGhyZWYlM0QlMjJodHRwcyUzQSUyRiUyRnd3dy5saXN0ZW5ub3Rlcy5jb20lMkZwb2RjYXN0cyUyRmFzay1hbGxpZS1hbGxpZS10aGVpc3MtSEJNWURDMl9kNDElMkYlMjIlMjB0aXRsZSUzRCUyMkFzayUyMEFsbGllJTIwJTdDJTIwTGlzdGVuJTIwTm90ZXMlMjIlM0UlM0NpbWclMjBsb2FkaW5nJTNEJTIybGF6eSUyMiUyMHNyYyUzRCUyMmh0dHBzJTNBJTJGJTJGY2RuLWltYWdlcy0yLmxpc3Rlbm5vdGVzLmNvbSUyRmltYWdlcyUyRnBvZGNhc3RzJTJGSEJNWURDMl9kNDE…

View On WordPress

Dc x dp idea 46

Danny and Dani are able to sense clones. Not like being able to hunt them but the vibes. Clones don’t feel right.

So really any ghost can tell. There age doesn’t match the body. They can feel that the soul or whatever had only been there for less then the age they are.

It does mean that if someone is like frozen physical but they age. They could tell the ages don’t match up. Neither have experienced anything like that. So they just always assume it a clone thing.

Danny meets Connor somehow.

Danny clocks him. Kinda groans and pulls out a pamphlet. Dani made him promise to give it to anyone he clocked.

Then he goes into a whole tangent about how he knows Connor is a clone. The look on his face cements it as fact.

Then asks how is your original or creator. They good. Or like need to go. Danny essentially questions his entire home life. Has to make sure he is safe.

Says he knows a guy who could help if not.

The pamphlet is Dani’s creation. One that has her number a way to contact Danny. The pamphlet guarantees her original will kick butt for them. (Danny is unaware of the part). The guy he knows is himself but he wasn’t going to tell them that. It also has a mandatory monthly check in. But don’t work she’ll come to you.

Danny does warn Connor she likes to pull pranks. Mostly on the originals or creators. Mentions how she and him destroyed the lab of the man who created her.

Dani just wants to befriend all the clones. Danny is willing to help her achieve her dreams.

Brotherhood of Steel: FUCK synths!

Sole Survivor: Yeah, you're right! We SHOULD fuck the synths!

Brotherhood of Steel: ...

Sole Survivor: ...

Sole Survivor: Ah. You didn't mean...I see. Right.

dp x dc prompt #25

Vlad is usually pretty bad at dealing with humans on a personal level. good thing cats aren’t people.

after his plans for the Fentons fell through, Vlad put all his energy into his cat, Maddie. soon, cats took over his personal life and he had a small army of furry companions. but since there were only so many cats he could take care of himself, he started funding animal shelters. and the most underfunded shelters happened to be in one Gotham city.

He didn’t plan on the Wayne child also volunteering undercover at shelters, or beginning to see him as more of a son. Maybe it just took someone just as bad at dealing with people as him to start feeling human again.

or- the redeemed animal shelter volunteer Vlad that nobody but my brain asked for.

Vote for your most favorite Bi/Pan Badass!

The wearable I-DOG!

I believe you when you say it like that

Update!

I engaged with the commentor.

This is my response to the comment on the previous post:

I then received this response:

Not easy to read, I know, but it is a grand total of 943 words and I had to zoom out to fit it all in one shot.

Goodbye.

Blocked.

Never again.

Picture this: You like owls. You see lots of misinformation and abusive animal videos online. You decide to make a blog that tells people “hey! These videos aren’t cute!” You want to spread knowledge.

For some reason, vegans are in your inbox.

Vegans have been a plague to me for years because they want me to see farming as ideologically evil but if I can’t farm quail and mice the animals in my care will starve to death and if livestock aren’t farmed my pets will have no food and crucially due to my own dietary restrictions I will also simply die.

So we have been at odds for a very long time. Especially because I know what actual farming practices are, and the misinformation spread online by hipster weirdos who apparently believe anything they see online regardless of how absurd it clearly is honestly just as obnoxious to me as people who think any given wildlife should be kept as a pet.

thinking about john's multitude of short-lived, often quickly-abandoned apartments for some reason, so a couple details:

although you might expect to find a very wizard-y interior to any place he's currently living at — you know, grimoires, skulls, dust, clutter, etc. — his flats actually tend to be fairly spartan in terms of decor; they've even been accused of looking modern, here and there. he just moves too frequently to really settle in & accrue Things, and has so often had to simply up & leave everything he currently owned behind (with very little chance of getting any of it back) that he no longer attaches much meaning to household objects.

besides the consistent presence of at least one bookshelf with at least 12 books on it, and a sad sprig of garden sage that miraculously hasn't died yet, the one exception to his lack of personal touch is his extensive collection of records + tapes, all of which he has repeatedly & methodically tracked down and bought / bid / traded / stolen / threatened for / blackmailed for / simply taken back whenever an enterprising landlord or new tenant left him the opportunity to do so. his record player itself has never needed to be taken back, since it has always mysteriously vanished from whatever flat he's leaving and mysteriously appeared wherever he's staying; it's convenient like that. his 10th anniversary walkman, however, frequently goes missing, only to turn up again later in a place he KNOWS he checked when he's least expecting it.

lack of home decor isn't to say he doesn't own much, mind: the bulk of his personal possessions — assorted occult paraphernalia, blackmail documentation, miscellaneous crap from his mucous membrane days, and anything he is able to take with him from past flats — are usually stored off-site, in a secure location that can't easily be tied back to him. this guy's been accused of being a satanic killer on multiple occasions, he knows better than to keep all the real shit out where anyone can just swan in and see it.

currently, this storage location (which i lovingly call occult shit central) is an abandoned inner london storefront + adjoining flat that was formerly his old friend ray monde's shop and home, called brick-a-brac antiques. it's decidedly cozier than the last place, (in that there are chairs, plural,) and has fewer bear traps laid out in anticipation of unlucky thieves; in fact, if a person were to visit without already knowing where constantine actually lives, it'd be easy to mistake it as his expectedly-wizardy flat. it's not an ideal location for an occult shit central, too close to the heart of the city and too close to people to avoid drumming up suspicion should constantine attempt any sort of ritual inside, but until chas finally quits ducking the paperwork and signs over his storage lot (which he may or may not be dragging his feet on out of pure resentment for having to do it at all) ray's place is the best option there is.

constantine's previous (and future) storage location was a lock-up in streatham that chas had been letting him use (see: all but surrendered to him entirely) since he got out of ravenscar, but after constantine's sister died, john decided he was done with magic and, in a spontaneous fit of rage, burnt the place down with everything but a few necessities still inside. he regretted this later, when he inevitably returned to the occult scene after just over a year away, and spent a lot of time calling in favors / hypnotizing arson inspectors to try and put together an inventory of everything he'd lost.

in the nearly 20 years since the fire, he's managed to replace or find substitutes for about 2/3 of what he had (occult-wise), and gather enough fresh dirt / do enough favors / orchestrate enough compromising situations to accumulate a little over 1/4 of the political / interpersonal power he once maintained. ( the lack of success in the latter being, in part, because people now in power aren't as familiar with his name & reputation as they once were; in part because people just don't believe in magic as much as they used to, or were otherwise bought by hell / heaven / other parties a LONG time ago; and in part because he's come to absolutely fucking despise most politicians / people in power more than he is willing to work with them, or more than he is able to plausibly believe they won't try to drop him at the first opportunity. )

you would be hard-pressed to find a landlady/landlord that speaks kindly of this man. if he wasn't kicked out for suspicious smells / disturbing noises / sudden infestations / suspected satanic activity, then it's likely that he abruptly up and disappeared in the middle of the night, with no warning and no rent. (on a few occasions, this vanishing act also coincided conspicuously with a gruesome death on the premises, sometimes of the landlady/landlord themselves, although no one's ever been able to prove anything.) frankly it's . . . magic, that people still rent to him.

due to these aforementioned bad ends, he's incredibly lucky if he gets enough time or leeway to take any sort of furniture with him from one place to the next. however, there is one incredibly comfy, wing-backed, sapphire-blue armchair that's miraculously managed to survive every move in the last ten or so years without being reported stolen — even though it has survived every move because it has, in fact, been stolen in the dead of night nearly every single time, by john and at least one of his buddies.

After Azran Legacy Descole was left with a lot of clothes, personal items, and various souvenir trinkets left behind by the other former passengers of the Bostonious none of which was ever properly retrieved due to the groups sudden parting.

Rather than throwing it all out Descole has been trying to covertly return all items back to their original owners and because it’s Descole he’s probably returning the objects and whatnot in the most complicated way possible over a period of time.

Auroras stuff in particular remains safely stored in a box on the Bostonious.

the carl + negan episode except whilst negan's trying to show off how wealthy the sanctuary is by going on a "we have everything. ask and you shall recieve" rant, carl looks at him deadpan and asks "do you have any weed?" and negan just gets the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

then instead of traumatising him in several ways, they go into his office and get high together, and negan decides he doesn't actually want to fight rick anymore, because his kid's cool as fuck.