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viktoriathewitch · 1 month

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͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙ self-love & witchcraft •̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

(se você fala portugues BR, sinta-se livre para enviar DM ou pedir tradução de um post. boa parte vai estar em inglês, para facilitar minha vida e atingir mais pesoas.)

-`🕯 INTRO 🕯´-

Everyone mentions it, everyone talks about it, and self-love has been the it topic for about a decade now. And in the witchy community, it's not so different. Those who engage with the spiritual community in general, also know this is a popular topic. In today's post, I'll be diving into why self-love is important in witchcraft and what witchy things you can do to boost self-love.

-`🕯 WHY IS IT IMPORTANT? 🕯´-

❅ Because it involves healing, and healing is a big part of witchcraft, since you'll learn how to be your best self, you'll learn how to assert boundaries, take care of your body, soul, and mind, and much more. ❅ Replenishing energy is one of the biggest positive effects of self-love (yes, I know that the path of self-love can be tiresome sometimes, but we ain't talking about that today!), and our energy is key in our craft. Thus, when you love yourself, you choose to eat well, rest, clean the space you're in, cater to your needs, etc. By doing this, you replenish your energy and when you're charged with energy, your craft gets better, since it requires quite a good amount of energy. ❅ Respecting your limits is also a big thing in self-love which should always be remembered in witchcraft. So, you don't have to do anything that you don't feel comfortable doing or that puts you in danger. Of course, the growth path isn't comfortable and some things in witchcraft are dangerous even for senior witches, but some things can be left undone for your own sake. For example, you don't need to do big rituals, have a detailed witchy routine, make witchcraft the main priority of your life, etc. Also, remember where you stand. If you are a beginner, it's not a good idea to go out hexing or trying to work with deities or more powerful beings, since I doubt you have your psychic abilities developed and a sturdy protection routine.

-`🕯 TIPS 🕯´-

❅ listen to your body, if you're always tired, eat food with more iron, go to bed earlier and don't stay on your phone one hour before, get that vitamin D, eat fruits and veggies, and avoid processed foods as much as possible. Back pain? Stretch, have better posture. Always getting sick? Read this tip all over again. ❅ be kind to yourself, don't call yourself stupid, don't yell at yourself. I know sometimes we can be really dumb, but if you're mistreating yourself all the time and saying unkind stuff, you're being your own bully and main energy drainer. ❅ have a day just for you, in which you take a good thick salt shower and later with some herbs, wear comfy clothes and eat the things you like with no guilt, ground yourself too. ❅ create protective charms/amulets for the week. Although "protection against negative energy" is common, creating one with a more specific job might come in handy. I, for example, like the ones that help with not taking things personally, as I tend to do that. So, observe your situation and day-to-day problems to create some specific amulets. ❅ Don't compare yourself to other witches. Actually, don't compare yourself to other people, at least not as much, as I know we often compare ourselves without second thoughts. However, you must know that just because you don't have witch ancestors or you can't see spirits, doesn't make you a mediocre witch. Also, if you don't have all the time in the world to be practicing and some days you can just do the basics, it's fine! ❅ Talk to your guides, vent to them, and ask for help! Your guides have a better vision of what's going on and they are the best when it comes to helping you out, especially regarding spiritual matters. They also will know when you need tough love or soft love.

-`🕯 CONCLUSION 🕯´-

So, this was it! A brief post for today and I hope I have helped y'all! I didn't dive deeper into some things because I would go on a tangent, but self-love is key!

#love #spirituality #spiritual awakening #spiritualpath #baby witch #magick #mysticism #spiritualgrowth #witch community #withcraft #self love #self care #witches #esoterismo #esoteric #esoterium #esoterik #witchy tips

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marylandlifecoaching · 2 years

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The Vampire And The Ghost

We all know someone who is addicted to drama. It's like they have a magnet attached to their back, and wherever the shit is, they are pulled into it. But understand this. That is a choice. And some people have become so immune to it, that they don't even realize that they set the table for trouble. Don't be that person. In fact, if you know one, run!

Let's talk a little deeper about this. We can usually spot this person by their lack of enthusiasm about life. They have a problem for every solution. They blame everyone for their misfortune. {Something we see on both sides of the political spectrum now a days.} Not too long ago, I saw a post on FaceBook from one of my friends. Not an IRL friend. This person constantly post attention seeking stuff. This particular post was "I'm leaving FaceBook for awhile. I can't take it anymore." Less than 2 hours later, back on and posting like nothing ever happened. So why bring this up? Fucking vampires!

There will always be people who will try and suck the life out of you. We often call them energy drainers. But why do we let them have access to us? I get it. It's the human thing to do to try and help someone who is in need. But that person that continues to come to you and eats up your precious energy and time...no thank you. I personally have cleared house many years ago. In my practice, I have done a much better job taking on clients who want to change, rather that clients who want to bitch. I am not the guy {both personally and professionally} that is going to let you complain without taking action. Yes, there is a grace period where I will let you vent. But if you're looking to play victim and not level up, you might as well call me Casper, because I will be a ghost. {A friendly ghost.} Look, the world isn't passing you by. The world is trying to get you engaged. And when bad things happen, we can use it to our advantage, or we can turn into a vampire. There is nothing wrong with sending up a flare and asking for help. But when you send up so many that it looks like the freaking 4th of July, you have morphed into a vampire. And the only way to become a mere mortal again, is to take your power back.

Lose the victim mentality. Take action. Know that you have a say in your story. The more you sit with it, the more it will drain you. The more it drains you, you lose your lifeline. Your bloodline. Like a vampire bit you. There is always, always something that you can do to improve your situation. Even if it's just correcting your mindset. Countless studies show how the mind effects the body. The placebo effect is a very powerful and real thing. Think you won't get better? You are literately stacking the deck against yourself.

Let me put a bow on it for you. Time and energy are a very valuable resource. I've dedicated my entire life to helping people. But what I won't do is watch you fold. I won't sit by and let you feel sorry for yourself. Bad things happen. Horrific things occur. We owe it to ourselves, family and friends, to keep pushing on. When someone comes to me and tells me their problem, I will hear them, validate them and inspire them to take action. Mourning periods will vary from person to person. So how did I stay so positive working in mental health for 35 years? When the vampires come...and they will, I ghost. I encourage you to do the same.

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gellavonhamster · 4 years

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good people

gen || Montgomery Montgomery & Bertrand Baudelaire || pre-canon

ao3 link eng || ao3 link rus

Monty Montgomery learned about the deaths of Count and Countess *** somewhere about two in the afternoon, in the lobby of the Biology Faculty of Gerald Durrell University of Natural Science. He didn’t know them personally, and that day he could not even recall their faces when reading an article about their deaths, just as many years later he could not – unfortunately – recall the face of their son, whom he did know personally back in the day and had met as often as not. At the same time, he could remember in detail the moment he heard they were dead – the hum of voices in the vast corridors of the faculty building, sunlight glistening on glass in the frames of photographs and newspaper clippings hanging on the walls, the sound of his own footsteps. He was descending the stairs, almost hopping like a kid because he had just managed to talk a teacher into letting him submit the report a day later, and consequently was in a splendid mood. Few things can compete with the joy that a student experiences when the deadline for a paper that still exists only as a title page gets postponed for a later date. Immersed in happy thoughts, he went down to the ground floor, and was just heading for the exit when he suddenly saw a crowd of students and teachers huddled together and discussing something animatedly. One of the students was holding a widely unfolded newspaper, and several people at once were reading something over his shoulder.

“Must be a change of government or something,” Monty thought as he approached them. Frankly, the prospect of writing a paper in two days concerned him much more at that time than a hypothetical coup.

“Ah, Montgomery!” shouted one of those reading the paper, Professor Stein of the Herpetology Department. Stein was always shouting: he had hearing problems. Now, on the other hand, a raised voice was more than appropriate, for too many people were talking at once.

“Good afternoon, Professor,” Monty gave him a nod of greeting as he joined the group. Getting closer to the paper was impossible – the crowd was too thick. “What’s the news?”

“A murder, Montgomery! A crime story at its finest; the whole city is going insane! Come read.” At that, Professor grabbed him by the elbow and pushed him into the middle of the crowd, so that Monty found himself right behind the left shoulder of the guy with the newspaper.

He took a look at the page, found the piece everyone was reading, and grew cold.

“Poison darts! With snake venom!” Stein exclaimed. Monty winced as if in pain. The loud noises around him were distracting; he wanted to read carefully, turn each word round in his head, persuade himself it was not what he thought it was. Coincidences do happen sometimes, after all. “And where – at the opera! Right during the performance!”

“Yeah,” someone to the right of the newspaper chimed in, “straight out of Gaston Leroy.”

“Leroux,” Monty corrected mechanically. He was suddenly overcome with fierce and helpless anger. He stepped back. “I’m sorry, Professor, I really have to go.”

Walking quickly, even quicker than back when he was urged on by the unwritten report, he headed for the door.

Well then, La Forza del Destino. Poison darts. Snake venom.

And his flatmate, who went to the opera yesterday and didn’t come back home.

***

Bertrand asked him to procure the venom about a week ago.

It might have been Thursday, or maybe Friday. Monty was writing a term paper then, one that he could not set about writing earlier because he was busy doing other things, from the tasks assigned to him by VFD to attending the parties organized by other volunteers, which in some cases seemed as important to him, even vital at times. VFD gave him time to deal with the exam period, relieving him from participation in any missions for the nearest future – the pursuance of science was highly valued among their ranks. Many volunteers flaunted some academic degrees, but not many of them got those degrees officially, even if they deserved them objectively. Some Doctors and Masters among them didn’t even hold a certificate of Bachelor’s Degree. Fighting the fires, both literal and figurative, took up a lot of time and energy, leaving virtually none of it for attending the lectures or even distance education. However, the VFD members had connections – Had Connections even, capitalized – owing to which many of them got the opportunity to call themselves professors or academicians, although all their scientific contributions, sometimes absolutely groundbreaking, remained hidden from the general public.

At the Biology Faculty, VFD Had some Connections as well, and if Monty wished so, he probably could obtain the Master’s or even Doctor’s Degree without much effort, but he had no such wish. He desired recognition and respect from the people outside the organization, desired to make discoveries that he could tell the whole world about – desired for everything to be fair. That was why he had spent the whole previous week in a kind of a time loop. Every day looked like the day before: writing, writing, writing, leafing through the sources frenziedly after another bookmark gets lost, sorting the materials collected in the expedition, drinking gallons of coffee, and occasionally sleeping. And feeding Maturin, of course. As to Monty himself, it was Bertrand who had been feeding him, which was very kind of him, because Monty couldn’t even afford the time to heat some ready-to-cook foods. Bertrand simply used to come into his room, not even knocking anymore so that not to distract him, put a plate of vegetable couscous or spaghetti bolognese or something in front of him, and leave before Monty noticed that plate. The dirty dishes he used to take away in the same manner, unnoticed. Monty had to yell “Thank you!” for the whole house to hear, to which Bertrand yelled back “You owe me!” from his room or from the kitchen. He was joking, and Monty knew that, but still planned at least to stand treat at the pub after the exams were over.

That morning, Bertrand knocked on the door again – first came in, then knocked. That meant he needed Monty to pay attention to him.

“Hello, hello, hello!” Monty exclaimed, turning on the chair, immediately knocked one his books off the table, and bent to pick it up. “I am listening to you attentively, o dearest neighbour.”

“You’re going to the uni tomorrow, aren’t you?” Bertrand asked.

Monty nodded. “Yeah, to submit this Frankenstein’s monster. Only the bibliography left to do.”

“You’re a hero,” Bertrand praised him. Monty thought so too, in all honesty. “Could you do something for me while you’re at it?”

“Buddy, I would’ve wasted away without you here over the last few days. What exactly do you need?”

“I need,” Bertrand felt for something in the pocket of his trousers, took out some scrap of paper, and gave it to Monty, “a vial of venom of this snake.”

Monty’s heart lurched. He skimmed the note.

“Oh,” he said. “No problem. There are a couple of excellent specimens of this species at the City Herpetological Centre.”

“I know,” Bertrand replied. “I thought of asking N or S, but I don’t know them well. I wouldn’t like to shoot my mouth off in front of the people I do not trust completely,” he sat down on the edge of Monty’s bed. “Not these days.”

Monty noticed that Bertrand was trying not to meet his eyes.

“I see. Tomorrow it’ll be done.”

“Thank you,” Bertrand smiled slightly, still not looking at Monty. Instead, he was looking at Maturin, the turtle, which was chewing on a salad leaf in its terrarium. The turtle was undoubtedly remarkable, but it wasn’t hard to see that Bertrand was rather looking through it than at it. Sooner or later that was bound to happen, Monty thought. Sooner or later, each volunteer had to do something… like that. Not necessarily related to deathly poisons and what very logically results from their use, but still something that made it difficult to look one’s friends in the eye. Like it was now difficult for Bertrand.

“Who?” Monty asked in a hushed voice. “I’m not asking about the name, I’m asking if you know that person. Or were you just given a description?”

“A description,” Bertrand echoed. He smiled again, wider and brighter, but still somewhat stiffly. “Don’t worry about me. I am not a child, I’ll handle this.”

***

“And so he did,” Monty thought as he was unlocking the door to his flat.

Bertrand was already home; there was no need to call their acquaintances or go to Kit’s place. When Monty entered, his flatmate was sitting at the kitchen table and rubbing his knuckles on one hand with the thumb of the other. His face was calm, without any trace of either tears or smile. It reminded Monty of the kind of “Closed” sign that people put on the shop doors on Sundays.

“There you are,” Monty said, peeking into the kitchen. Bertrand gave a start and looked at him.

“Hi,” he said, and offered Monty a faint smile. It didn’t look too convincing. “How did the report thing go?”

“They let me submit it later,” Monty told him. He didn’t know how to ask Bertrand about what was really vexing him, so he asked another question that was, in his opinion, appropriate in any situation. “Would you like some tea?”

“That would be nice, thank you.”

Monty went into the kitchen, took the teapot off the stove, shook it and made sure it was empty, filled it with water, ignited the burner, put the teapot on the stove. Having been in a hurry to check if Bertrand was home, he didn’t have time to take his shoes off, and was now stamping around the kitchen in outdoor shoes. “Gotta sweep the floor later,” he noted to himself. It came with experience – the skill of not forgetting about the dull everyday things like cleaning and cooking while your entire world was in a whirl and threatening to fall apart.

“I saw the article in the newspaper,” he began as he took teacups from the dish drainer. Bertrand was still sitting at the table in silence, still rubbing his hands absentmindedly. “About the opera.”

“Yeah, I’ve already read it, too.”

“You lied when you told me you didn’t know who the target was, didn’t you? When you asked me to get you the venom.”

“I did,” Bertrand agreed. He leaned back in his chair. It wasn’t hard to see by his eyes that he hadn’t caught even a minute of sleep last night. “Do we have any lemons for tea?”

“Um?.. I think there must be some. Check the fridge. Why did you lie?”

“You had enough problems of your own. And you still do. I didn’t want you to worry about me as well,” Bertrand got up from the table, walked up to the fridge, and took out a bowl containing half a lemon. Having taken a knife and a board, he started cutting the lemon into very neat identical pieces. Everything Bertrand did was neat.

“Yeah, you can want whatever you like,” Monty muttered. The teapot was still taking its time to boil, and just standing empty-handed and discussing the murder committed by his neighbour was unbearable, so he took a cloth and started cleaning the sink aggressively. That was not the first time he procured poisons required by other volunteers. Perhaps he hadn’t killed anyone himself – yet – but he suspected that in a sense he already was partially responsible for a number of deaths. It was scary, it was weighing down on him, it kept him up at night and made him drink and dance and party with a vengeance in the hope of forgetting himself – but that was him, and when it came to Bertrand, it was a hundred times more of a shame. Bertrand was a good person. Bertrand didn’t deserve to be turned into a murderer. Monty was hoping he could express that all in such a way as not to make it seem like his heart is aching not so much for his friend as for his own hurt feelings, but the right words just wouldn’t come.

“You are one of the best people I know,” he finally began. Bertrand made a strange sound, something between a laugh and a sob. Monty turned and saw that he had already cut the leftover lemon and was now standing with an absent look on his face, clutching the knife. “Don’t hold the knife with the edge toward you. Fucking hell, B,” he raised his voice when Bertrand didn’t react. “Don’t hold the knife with the edge toward you, and put it down anyway!”

The knife fell on the table with a thud. Bertrand closed his eyes, leaned on the tabletop with both hands, and lowered his head so that Monty couldn’t get a good look at his countenance.

“I keep remembering that he hit O several times when boozed up, back when O was a boy,” he spoke quietly. “He used to drink, you know – not every day, but he used to go on drinking sprees from time to time. O’s taking after him in that respect. I keep thinking back on it as if it makes an excuse for me, but it really doesn’t, you see? And she was innocent – I mean, the rational part of me gets that she wasn’t, I know who she and her husband used to finance and what they used to cover up, but all I can remember is that she was usually nice to O, and to B after she moved to the City too.” Now his voice was taut, his face burning with indignation, his former numbness gone without a trace. “How come this task was assigned to B, of all people? After they had basically accepted her as family?”

Monty knew, personally and by repute, several Bs among their associates, but this time Bertrand didn’t have to specify who he was talking about.

“I am angry they made you do this, you are angry they made her…”

“Because she didn’t deserve this,” Bertrand interrupted him. “Because she’s a good person.”

Monty realized that Bertrand was basically repeating word for word what he had been reflecting on earlier himself, and smiled sadly.

“How willing we are to assure the others vehemently that they are good people,” he spoke. He was completely in agreement with Bertrand about Beatrice. She was not just fun, but also reliable, which was much more important. She looked after her own. She was vivid and loud and incredibly brave and incredibly loving, and Bertrand was right: she did not deserve this. “And never as willing to defend ourselves the same way. Perhaps that is where our hope lies? In our inability to turn a blind eye to our own faults?”

Bertrand took off his glasses, inelegantly wiped off the tears that had broken out after all, and put the glasses on again.

“Monty,” he said gently, “you’re a good person too, you know that?”

Monty blinked, then blinked again, feeling that soon he might have to wipe off the tears too. Bertrand was one of the best people Monty knew, and he didn’t deserve to be turned into a murderer, and didn’t deserve to labour under such grave delusion about other people either – but the fact that someone still considered him a good person gave Monty confidence that despite all his wrongdoings, he still wasn’t a lost cause.

He reached out and ruffled Bertrand’s hair.

“Sit down,” he told him. “The tea’s about to be ready.”

#asoue #a series of unfortunate events #uncle monty #montgomery montgomery #bertrand baudelaire #snicketverse #not completely satisfied w/ this one but i like some bits so let it be here #yes the name of the turtle is a reference to stephen king's it #iirc they reference danny the champion of the world as early as atwq and it was published in the 70s #and time is a construct anyway (especially in the snicketverse) so i couldn't resist #talk talk talk #gella talks snicketverse #my fic

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thebibliomancer · 4 years

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Dark Crystal Age of Resistance Tactics liveblog pt 9

Even though I already befriended the Drenchen forever last time, I keep hanging around a swamp because I heard there was a SkekSil hanging around and I wanted to see him in his natural habitat.

Zing.

Now that the Drenchen are my best friends forever (high five, Gurjin!), I have to save them from the Chamberlain doing Chamberlain things.

Mission: Bogged Down - Putrid Banks

"The heroes set out to aid a Drenchen encampment. Rumor has it that the Chamberlain has been causing trouble."

I hope he doesn't have any threaders. Thats too much mind control in one place.

Aw dammit a bunch of hostile Drenchen. I'm always fighting Gelfling! There's not going to be any left to unify after everything at this rate! Short-coming of the narrative, I guess. If it was set later in the timeline, we could fight Garthim and Crystal Bats.

Maybe the sequel should get on that, hint hint?

And there's poisonous swamp water everywhere!

My swamp dream team is Gurjin, Naia, Rek'yr, Hup, and Kylan.

Because they're my lowest levelled but also because Gurjin and Naia are Drenchen and are immune to poison swamp water.

Dammit, the Chamberlain told the Drenchen that my group were fugitives.

Gurjin, you're a prince or something, can't you do something about this?

Apparently not.

But things are going okay. Sure, I can't cross the swamp very effectively except with the pet Nurloc, Naia, and Gurjin but do you know what is very effectively?

Kylan and Naia as a combo. Mark plus Double Strike? Very good. Beating up all the fools/members of her own clan.

AND GURJIN!

I've never used Defeaning Roar before even though its been on his movelist for a while but I love the graphic for it! It creates a blue energy shell around the unit which they bang ineffectually on with their fist! Its like noise proofing, for annoying mages!

Rek'yr, as you might expect from a desert guy, doesn't take well to the swamp. Most of the enemies that have attacked so far have ganged up on him. But he's still holding his own.

I'm very proud of my resistance group.

And then I gang up on the last guy, stack him with conditions, and kick the crap out of him.

Then Gurjin delivers a speech about freeing everyone from the Skeksis' tyranny which everyone is too unconscious to hear.

Its a feel good victory.

EVERYONE LEVELED UP!

Rek'yr learned Evasive (passive +15 evasion), Gurjin learned Tempered Stone (attack up for three turns if critical hit), Hup learned Friendship (he had this all along (ok fine, buffs accuracy and critical chance to adjacent allied beasts)), Naia learned Flurry of Steel (attack and take your next turn sooner), and Kylan learned Aimed Shot (attack a marked enemy for massive damage).

Oops, Kylan got to level 5, so I have to start training him on Mender so he can be a Song Teller, like the prophecy says.

Gurjin and Naia will stay Stone Warden and Paladin respectively. Feels like good symmetry for them.

I'm just going around the wheel with Hup so he needs five more levels in Tamer so he can become a Potion Master.

Rek'yr I'm going to try to make a Grave Dancer because it sounds rad and because he flirts over funerary arrangements. But he's a level 5 thief now so I need to get him to Paladin, which means Soldier. Since I'm making him a fighty guy, I'm giving him the Dousan Axe.

---

Encounter - Putrid Banks - Fight a challenge to test your mettle

Always with the testing my mettle, geez.

Dang the swamp is full of darkened nurlocs and windsifters. This game is doing a slightly better job at making me remember the Darkening is an ongoing concern than the show.

Since encounters help you get more xp, I'm bringing my lowest levelled people Breg, Alyadon, Rian, Brea, and... Rek'yr? You just levelled!

New guy has to play catch-up a lot.

Well. That went well enough. Breg died. Poor Breg.

Rian leveled up so now I can start him on Stone Wardening so I can eventually make him the big-brained strategist of the resistance. And Alyadon levelled up so I can make her a tracker or thief. I forgot what the plan was for her. I don't have a dedicated Mender and she was one of those so maybe time to lean into that?

But if she's going to be in a basic job, I'm giving her nice things. A Dusty Tome so she can attack from afar, an Apprentice's Cloak because I was out of clothes, and a Pouch of Hollerbat Fur.

Decked to the nines.

---

Geez, you never get much money in this game. I feel like a really long time goes by between being able to buy next tier equipment for my party but other than grinding on Encounters (which don't give much) I don't see what I can do.

---

Mission: Creepy-Crawlies - Muddy Shallows

"Hot on the Chamberlain's trail, the heroes are stopped when they encounter an army of Arathim."

Dangit SkekSil!

My party is Breg and Rek'yr, doomed to always be the lowest levelled guys from some reason (its because Rek'yr just joined and Breg keeps dying), Brea and Boggi because a girl and her shouty dog is just classic, and Hup because Hup already knows Friendship.

The spiders talk, which I know they can do from the show but I don't think they've done in the game yet.

Gurjin: "Now he's convinced the Arathim to help him? We have to stop the Chamberlain and his manipulative ways."

Just keep Rian away from him. He's a good kid but way too easily swayed.

"Well this is not going great, what with all the spit but at least nobody as died so f- HUP NOOOOOO"

But despite spending much of the mission with most of my party hovering in low health, Hup is the only one who did die by the end. I'm surprised. Usually my team starts dropping like flies.

It occurs to me that this was a filler mission padding out a filler story arc padding out the show plot by having Chamberlain Up To Something.

Good news is that everyone level up!

Breg learned Evasive, Boggi learned Concentrate (Magic Up and Shell for one turn, take next turn sooner), Brea learned Landslide (Stun all adjacent units, nice), Hup learns NOTHING, Rek'yr learned to Shove people.

---

Mission: The Chamberlain's Deception - Drenchen Encampment

"The heroes reach the Drenchen encampment and confront the manipulative Chamberlain"

Well, I won't say no to kicking his butt a second and a half time and stealing his clothes again.

I do wonder if we'll get to fight more Skeksis besides the Chamberlain, the Hunter, and presumably the General.

Geez, this map is huge.

I'm bringing Deet, Gurjin and Naia (home turf), Kylan (because he's Naia's bestie), and Breg. Because I'm always bringing Breg. Poor guy needs more experience constantly.

Gurjin: "Begone Chamberlain! Your kind is no longer welcome, drainer!"

The Chamberlain: "Please... Skeksis come only to help Gelfling living so far away. We bring them back to the castle. GIve them much-needed food and supplies."

He has a trustworthy face, I say we trust him.

Rian: "Don't listen to him! He plans to drain you all for your essence!"

Then again, Rian is a protagonist. He might be right.

Chamberlain: "Wicked Gelfling spread lies! Capture the fugitives and skekSil will reward you all at the Castle!"

-me hits a Drenchen after they hit me-

Chamberlain: "You see! Gelfling here to hurt you"

I MEAN. It doesn't look good for us! 90% of what we do is roll into town and beat up other Gelfling!

Soo. I lost.

Its a bad setup. There's a lot of swamp water in the middle that Chamberlain can just sit on the other side of and lob his ridiculous 4 and 5 ranged apparently perfect accuracy confuse Please, Please and stun Spithead abilities across.

All the Gelfling enemies are Drenchen so they can cross the swamp water no problem or darkened armaligs which have ridiculous defense.

Chamberlain himself has 1000 HP. You only have to beat him but he plays keep away on the other side of the swamp. And if you try to keep out of his range, then he'll cross over but run away if you attack him too much. And he's seemingly immune to status effects.

Trying again with Rian, Gurjin, Naia, Brea, and Hup. The all-star squad.

And I lost again. Chamberlain is just too able to lock down the party with confuse and stun and not to mention converting your people onto his team. I even got his MP down to nothing and he still used an ability to I can't win via attrition either. And when you take out half the enemy units, he automatically goes hopped up on essence and can use Skeksis Friend to convert a confused team member.

I had Hup, who could clear confusion but he died.

Eesh, what a disaster.

Going to try Hup, Alyadon, Brea, Rian and Naia. Alyadon and Hup can both clear statuses, Brea and Alyadon can heal. Rian can hit things. And Naia can hit things but look cooler when she does.

Oh, shit I actually won. I lost everyone but Naia. Heck, I lost everyone but Brea, Alyadon, and Naia just getting across the swamp to where Chamberlain was. Hup and Rian both got cornered and slowly beaten to death =(

I had Alyadon mark the Chamberlain, then he executed her =(

I had Brea dreamfast to give Naia more MP, then two armaligs bumped her to death at the cost of their own lives =(

And then Naia did double strike AND IT WAS THE DRAMATIC LAST BLOW! GOOD STUFF!

I didn't denude the Chamberlain again but I did steal his Signet Ring and got a book of Drenchen legends.

The ring lets the equipped hero start battle with ten turns of Guardian's Blessing! Which means an auto-revive! I'd have to suck a lot to die in the first ten turns but STILL NEAT

Giving it to Naia, she more than earned it!

Drenchen Legends is a spellbook, grants a ranged magic attack with 30% chance to inflict poison. GIVING IT TO BREA, SHE EARNED IT! Plus, she loves to read.

And Brea and Naia levelled up, as befits THE LAST TWO PEOPLE STANDING.

PHEW

Brea learned Channel (grant adjacent allies MP regen? YES THANK YOU) and Naia learned Retribution WHICH IS VERY APPROPRIATE FOR HOW I GOT IT (50% chance to counter attack melee attacks). I kept wishing Naia could counter the whole mission when she was confused and being slowly beaten to death by a mender.

I spent some of my battle spoils giving some teeth to Gurjin and Rek'yr and buying Brea some bat fur.

And thats where I leave off because that is just enough for right now. I really thought I'd just be stuck at this point and have to grind on bar fights!

#dark crystal #the dark crystal #dark crystal age of resistance #dark crystal age of resistance tactics #THE GAME #liveblog #things started smoothly and then got a little hectic and then got a whole heckin lot hectic #difficulty curve!

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scribblesandstrations · 5 years

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Oh Princess, My ‘Prince’

Characters:

Princess Acacia

Prince Avalan

Warnings: Uhh.. Sensations of being choked? Mentions of war? Swordfighting?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mother had always warned me of the outside world, the world beyond the Refuge. The world of humans, of the ones who have sought our extinction all those years ago, long before I was born.

All she knew since a child was war. All she obsessed about, with each passing day, in the late hours, was war. Vengeance for our fallen brothers and sisters.

I don’t even know why I agreed to impersonate the prince. That there may be a chance the humans have had a change of heart? That maybe we are ready to attempt to coexist once more? That mother could...

No. No, no, those thoughts... No. It’s too soon. Too soon. Where in the Planes was that man?

“Well, well,” and speak of the devil, “who do we have here?”

It took all the willpower within my being and the voices of my ancestors to not vine-pull the man off the window. I turned around, fixing onto him, lips pursed and fists tight. Vinery... I could...

“Ah-ah,” he chided, and I choked, immobile, gaze fixating onto the ring on his finger, another pressing onto it. The collar, the damned collar, and that damned activator. “I wouldn’t advise that.”

A power drainer. An inhibitor. The Sisters told me of his good intentions, of the necessity of this whole game. By the Divines, my head...

My energy came back, and I gasped, coughing into my fist, gaze fixated on that damned ring.

“You-” I coughed again, “have some nerve visiting at this time, my prince,” I spat. He made a show of keeping his finger right above the ring.

“Why, my prince!” How I wished to punch that grin off his stupid face. “I simply wanted to leave a reminder.”

“And couldn’t you have left a note?” It was my turn to grin. “Or is your calligraphy as terrible as our beloved Miss Penut went on countless times? She seemed rather impressed by your, ahah, and I say this in her words, ‘remarkable improvement’.”

“Cute.” He climbed in fully, and I stepped back, eyes narrowing. “But I’m not really here for small talk. I came to train.”

“Train?”

“You really think the Sisters have said nothing of your nature? You may excel at your magic, but I have reliable information that your swordsmanship is mediocre. At best.”

I huffed, crossing my arms. This was stupid from the start.

“And what makes you think I wish to train with you?”

“Because, my dearest Acacia, unlike my penmanship, as you stated, I particularly excel in my sword fighting. A session which you will be attending in my place tomorrow.”

He... had a point. Damn it.

“You truly do love to get on my last nerve, don’t you, Avalan?”

“As you do mine. Now, I trust you are able to climb? In the gardens, now.”

--------------

“For a witch girl that knows nothing but magic,” Avalan countered another strike, “you are a quick learner.”

If it weren’t for that ring upon his hand, I swear. If I could place a perfectly aimed blow I could solve all our problems.

“But still not good enough.” I dodged the strike.

“But you’ve been gone for weeks, my dear Avalan! What makes you think they would expect the mighty prince to keep his skills sharpened?”

“Aha!” Another counter. “So you do admit I am mighty?”

I felt the corner of my lips twitch. He had both hands on his sword. I rushed forward, feeling my energy reach out into the ground below. The tree’s roots gave me leverage and tripped him. He didn’t have the time to reach the ring. I pushed our swords together, dangerously close to his chest. His face... Oh, what I wouldn’t give to see his expression for a lifetime.

“My, for a prince who wishes to serve the two worlds, you’re quite arrogant, don’t you agree?”

He returned the smirk.

“Likewise, my princess.”

#Scribbles Scribbles #Scribbles OCs #Princess Acacia #Prince Avalan #OCs #Drabble

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thefaeriereview · 4 years

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Taking Stock by A. L. Lester

Historical Gay Romance

It's 1972.

Fifteen years ago, teenage Laurie Henshaw came to live at Webber’s Farm with his elderly uncle and settled in to the farming life. Now, age thirty-two, he has a stroke in the middle of working on the farm. As he recovers, he has to come to terms with the fact that some of his new limitations are permanent and he’s never going to be as active as he used to be. Will he be able to accept the helping hands his friends extend to him?

With twenty successful years in the City behind him, Phil McManus is hiding in the country after his boyfriend set him up to take the fall for an insider trading deal at his London stockbroking firm. There’s not enough evidence to prosecute anyone, but not enough to clear him either. He can’t bear the idea of continuing his old stagnating life in the city, or going back to his job now everyone knows he’s gay.

Thrown together in a small country village, can Phil and Laurie forge a new life that suits the two of them and the makeshift family that gathers round them? Or are they too tied up in their own shortcomings to recognise what they have?

A 1970s historical gay romance peripheral to the Lost in Time universe. Stand alone, not paranormal.

A gentle story about two people who are hurt and angry and tired, finding their way toward each other and healing.

4 out of 5 fairies

Taking Stock is sweet. Honestly, I was little worried this was going to be a bit boring and dry. Instead, I kind of felt like I was watching a Lifetime movie unfold. It's sweet, and although I wouldn't say it's very fast-paced, but the way Lester writes, the slow pace feels right. Normally that sort of thing would drive me up the wall, but curled up with a hot cup of tea and a warm blanket on a cool night this was the perfect sweet escape. If you like Lifetime movies and love reading, you'll fall in love with this book.

Excerpt

Phil found his feet turning up the lane toward Webber’s Farm a couple of days after his meeting with Laurie Henshaw almost without thought. He had got in to the habit of walking regularly early on in his sojourn in the cottage. Some days he took sandwiches in the knapsack he’d bought and just went up the footpath at the top of the lane and headed off into the winter woods. It was quiet and peaceful and he found that if he could get in to a swinging rhythm, one foot in front of the other, the swirl of anger and betrayal that seemed to accompany him like a cloud quieted, gradually draining down in to the earth as he walked.

Today though, rather than his feet taking him up the hill in to the burgeoning spring, they took him down toward the farm. Henshaw…Laurie…had grabbed his interest in a way that nobody had for months. The man had been on his last legs sitting in the Post Office and his frustration with himself had been obvious. Phil had enjoyed coaxing a smile out of him. Sitting in the farmhouse kitchen with the quiet warmth of the Rayburn at his back, he’d spoken more about his personal life to a complete stranger than he had opened up to anyone since that awful day when Adrian had got him out of the police station.

It would only be neighbourly to pop in and see if he was all right. That’s what people did in the country, didn’t they? Phil had been here months now, apart from a brief visit to Aunt Mary over Christmas and New Year, and if he was going to be here much longer he should probably make an effort to get to know people properly.

That made him pause for thought. Was he going to be here much longer?

He didn’t know.

He walked through the farmyard cautiously. He knew enough to go to the back door, not the front. The two sheepdogs who had cursorily examined him earlier in the week shot out of the open porch and circled round, barking and wagging cheerfully. No need to knock, then. He did, regardless. And called out “Anyone home?”

“In here,” Laurie’s voice answered, distantly. “Come in, whoever you are!”

He stepped in to the porch, past a downstairs bathroom and through the scullery with its stone-flagged floor, and pushed the door into the kitchen fully open.

Laurie was washing up. His stick was hooked on the drainer and he was resting against the sink with one hip. He turned as Phil came in, propping the final plate on the pile beside the soapy water and reaching for the tea-towel flung over his shoulder to dry his hands.

“Mr McManus! Phil, I mean,” he corrected himself, “what can I do for you?”

Phil paused. He hadn’t got this far in his head. He had just…walked.

“Erm. I was just passing?” he tried. His voice lifted at the end, in a question.

“You were?” Laurie looked at him, one side of his mouth twisted up in a little smile. Or was that the side affected by the stroke? He didn’t know. Didn’t matter, anyway.

“Yes. I was.” He made his voice firmer. “Sally is at my place this morning, so I thought you might let me hide here.”

“Only if you’ll let me retreat to your place when she’s cross with me,” Laurie replied. “Although that will probably mean I have to move in, at least for the moment.” He pulled a face.

“Have you upset her?”

“No. Yes. Sort of….” He turned toward the Rayburn and dragged the kettle on to the hotplate. “She wasn’t very happy about me over-doing it the other day. Patsy told tales on me.”

“Ah. Yes, I can see that. She obviously cares about you a great deal. She talks about you all the time when she comes up to do the cottage.” He paused. “Have you been together long?”

Laurie choked and dropped one of the tea-cups he was moving from the drainer to the table. He fumbled for it and at the same time Phil stooped to catch it. They both missed and it smashed on the stone floor into a thousand tiny pieces. “Shit!” Laurie said, trying stifle his coughing. “That was one of the good ones, too.”

He bent to pick up the pieces, still choking and Phil said, “Stop it, you bloody fool, let me. It’s everywhere.” He put his hands on Laurie’s shoulders and pushed him upward from his bent position and then back and down, in to one of the kitchen chairs. Laurie’s leg gave as he sat and he made the final descent with an unglamorous wobble.

He was still coughing. “Sally!” he got out, around between coughs. “Bloody hell!”

“Where’s the dustpan?” Phil asked, ignoring him.

Laurie gestured to the cupboard under the sink. “Under there.”

It was the work of moments to sweep it all up, on his knees at Laurie’s feet. Thankfully it had been empty. He rested back on his heels with with full dustpan. “Where does it go?”

“Put it in one of the flower-pots on the window-sill,” Laurie said, gesturing. “I’ll stick in the bottom of a pot for drainage when I plant the new ones up.”

Phil nodded and got to his feet. He lurched as he did so and steadied himself on Laurie’s knee as he rose. Warm, he thought. The man smelled nice. A mixture of soap and fresh air and woodsmoke. “Ooops,” he said, pushing himself upright. “Sorry.”

Laurie grinned at him as they briefly made eye contact. Something flickered in his eyes. “Not a problem,” he said. He pointed at the window-sill behind the sink. “Knock those dead chives in the middle pot out the window in to the yard.” He grinned again, but it was a different sort of smile this time, with slightly too many teeth. “I can’t really balance to water them properly at the moment anyway.”

Phil opened the window and emptied the dead plants outside ad then tipped the pieces of crockery in as instructed. He replaced the dustpan under the sink and stood up and leaned against it, crossing his arms. “Doesn’t Sally help with that sort of thing?” he asked, looking down at the other man.

“No. Yes. Sometimes.” Laurie wouldn’t meet his eye and started to stand. “Sit down, let me get a new cup.”

Phil put his hand back on his shoulder and gently but firmly pushed him back down on to the chair. “What do you mean?” he asked, in a voice that matched his grip, “No-yes-sometimes covers all the wickets.” He removed his hand and turned round to collect another cup and saucer, moving past Laurie to put it on the table beside him and then reaching to pull the kettle off the Rayburn and put both tea-leaves and the boiling water in the teapot.

He brought the teapot over and put it on the cork table-mat in the middle of the table before opening the pantry door and rummaging in the fridge for the milk-jug. Laurie sat and let him, watching him slightly warily.

As Phil sat down and folded his arms again, waiting for the tea to brew, Laurie muttered, “I told her not to do it.”

“You told her not to do it?” Phil repeated. “Ah, I see.” And he did, in a way. He wouldn’t be in Laurie’s shoes for anything.

Laurie worked his thumb over and over one of the whorls of wood in the table-top. It was smoothed from long use. “I hate it, Phil,” he said in a low voice. “I hate not being able to do all the simple things. It makes me feel useless, having them all run round after me.”

“You’d rather let the plants die than accept help?”

Laurie bit his lip and continued to worry at the knot in the table. “It sounds daft when you put it like that,” he said.

Phil didn’t say anything.

“Okay, I know it’s daft.” He looked up and met Phil’s eyes, his own anguished. “But I hate it,” he said, vehemently. “I hate it, Phil.”

Where to buy: Book2Read

* * * * *

Add to your TBR list

About the Author: A. L. Lester is a writer of queer, paranormal, historical, and romantic suspense. Lives in the South West of England with Mr AL, two children, a badly behaved dachshund, a terrifying cat and some hens. Likes gardening but doesn't really have time or energy. Not musical. Doesn't much like telly. Non-binary. Chronically disabled. Has tedious fits.

Connect with A. L. here

Review: Taking Stock https://ift.tt/34CX0Cf

#IFTTT #Blogger

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yes-dal456 · 7 years

Text

10 Toxic People You Should Avoid Like The Plague

Toxic people defy logic. Some are blissfully unaware of the negative impact that they have on those around them, and others seem to derive satisfaction from creating chaos and pushing other people’s buttons.

As important as it is to learn how to deal with different kinds of people, truly toxic people will never be worth your time and energy—and they take a lot of each. Toxic people create unnecessary complexity, strife, and, worst of all, stress.

“People inspire you, or they drain you—pick them wisely.” – Hans F. Hansen

Recent research from Friedrich Schiller University in Germany shows just how serious toxic people are. They found that exposure to stimuli that cause strong negative emotions—the same kind of exposure you get when dealing with toxic people—caused subjects’ brains to have a massive stress response. Whether it’s negativity, cruelty, the victim syndrome, or just plain craziness, toxic people drive your brain into a stressed-out state that should be avoided at all costs.

Stress can have a lasting, negative impact on the brain. Exposure to even a few days of stress compromises the effectiveness of neurons in the hippocampus, an important brain area responsible for reasoning and memory. Weeks of stress cause reversible damage to brain cells, and months of stress can permanently destroy them. Toxic people don’t just make you miserable—they’re really hard on your brain.

The ability to manage your emotions and remain calm under pressure has a direct link to your performance. TalentSmart has conducted research with more than a million people, and we’ve found that 90% of top performers are skilled at managing their emotions in times of stress in order to remain calm and in control. One of their greatest gifts is the ability to identify toxic people and keep them at bay.

It’s often said that you’re the product of the five people you spend the most time with. If you allow even one of those five people to be toxic, you’ll soon find out how capable he or she is of holding you back.

Toxic people drive you crazy because their behavior is so irrational. Make no mistake about it—their behavior truly goes against reason...

You can’t hope to distance yourself from toxic people until you first know who they are. The trick is to separate those who are annoying or simply difficult from those who are truly toxic. What follows are ten types of toxic drainers that you should stay away from at all costs so that you don’t become one yourself.

1. The Gossip

“Great minds discuss ideas, average ones discuss events, and small minds discuss people.” – Eleanor Roosevelt

Gossipers derive pleasure from other people’s misfortunes. It might be fun to peer into somebody else’s personal or professional faux pas at first, but over time, it gets tiring, makes you feel gross, and hurts other people. There are too many positives out there and too much to learn from interesting people to waste your time talking about the misfortune of others.

2. The Temperamental

Some people have absolutely no control over their emotions. They will lash out at you and project their feelings onto you, all the while thinking that you’re the one causing their malaise. Temperamental people are tough to dump from your life because their lack of control over their emotions makes you feel bad for them. When push comes to shove though, temperamental people will use you as their emotional toilet and should be avoided at all costs.

3. The Victim

Victims are tough to identify because you initially empathize with their problems. But as time passes, you begin to realize that their “time of need” is all the time. Victims actively push away any personal responsibility by making every speed bump they encounter into an uncrossable mountain. They don’t see tough times as opportunities to learn and grow from; instead, they see them as an out. There’s an old saying: “Pain is inevitable but suffering is optional.” It perfectly captures the toxicity of the victim, who chooses to suffer every time.

4. The Self-Absorbed

Self-absorbed people bring you down through the impassionate distance they maintain from other people. You can usually tell when you’re hanging around self-absorbed people because you start to feel completely alone. This happens because as far as they’re concerned, there’s no point in having a real connection between them and anyone else. You’re merely a tool used to build their self-esteem.

5. The Envious

To envious people, the grass is always greener somewhere else. Even when something great happens to envious people, they don’t derive any satisfaction from it. This is because they measure their fortune against the world’s when they should be deriving their satisfaction from within. And let’s face it, there’s always someone out there who’s doing better if you look hard enough. Spending too much time around envious people is dangerous because they teach you to trivialize your own accomplishments.

6. The Manipulator

Manipulators suck time and energy out of your life under the façade of friendship. They can be tricky to deal with because they treat you like a friend. They know what you like, what makes you happy, and what you think is funny, but the difference is that they use this information as part of a hidden agenda. Manipulators always want something from you, and if you look back on your relationships with them, it’s all take, take, take, with little or no giving. They’ll do anything to win you over just so they can work you over.

Maintaining an emotional distance requires awareness. You can’t stop someone from pushing your buttons if you don’t recognize when it’s happening.

7. The Dementor

In J. K. Rowling’s “Harry Potter” series, Dementors are evil creatures that suck people’s souls out of their bodies, leaving them merely as shells of humans. Whenever a Dementor enters the room, it goes dark, people get cold, and they begin to recall their worst memories. Rowling said that she developed the concept for Dementors based on highly negative people—the kind of people who have the ability to walk into a room and instantly suck the life out of it.

Dementors suck the life out of the room by imposing their negativity and pessimism upon everyone they encounter. Their viewpoints are always glass half empty, and they can inject fear and concern into even the most benign situations. A Notre Dame University study found that students assigned to roommates who thought negatively were far more likely to develop negative thinking and even depression themselves.

8. The Twisted

There are certain toxic people who have bad intentions, deriving deep satisfaction from the pain and misery of others. They are either out to hurt you, to make you feel bad, or to get something from you; otherwise, they have no interest in you. The only good thing about this type is that you can spot their intentions quickly, which makes it that much faster to get them out of your life.

9. The Judgmental

Judgmental people are quick to tell you exactly what is and isn’t cool. They have a way of taking the thing you’re most passionate about and making you feel terrible about it. Instead of appreciating and learning from people who are different from them, judgmental people look down on others. Judgmental people stifle your desire to be a passionate, expressive person, so you’re best off cutting them out and being yourself.

10. The Arrogant

Arrogant people are a waste of your time because they see everything you do as a personal challenge. Arrogance is false confidence, and it always masks major insecurities. A University of Akron study found that arrogance is correlated with a slew of problems in the workplace. Arrogant people tend to be lower performers, more disagreeable, and have more cognitive problems than the average person.

How to Protect Yourself Once You Spot ‘Em

Toxic people drive you crazy because their behavior is so irrational. Make no mistake about it—their behavior truly goes against reason, so why do you allow yourself to respond to them emotionally and get sucked into the mix?

The more irrational and off-base someone is, the easier it should be for you to remove yourself from their traps. Quit trying to beat them at their own game. Distance yourself from them emotionally, and approach your interactions with them like they’re a science project (or you’re their shrink if you prefer that analogy). You don’t need to respond to the emotional chaos—only the facts.

Maintaining an emotional distance requires awareness. You can’t stop someone from pushing your buttons if you don’t recognize when it’s happening. Sometimes you’ll find yourself in situations where you’ll need to regroup and choose the best way forward. This is fine, and you shouldn’t be afraid to buy yourself some time to do so.

Most people feel as though because they work or live with someone, they have no way to control the chaos. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Once you’ve identified a toxic person, you’ll begin to find their behavior more predictable and easier to understand. This will equip you to think rationally about when and where you have to put up with them and when and where you don’t. You can establish boundaries, but you’ll have to do so consciously and proactively. If you let things happen naturally, you’re bound to find yourself constantly embroiled in difficult conversations. If you set boundaries and decide when and where you’ll engage a difficult person, you can control much of the chaos. The only trick is to stick to your guns and keep boundaries in place when the person tries to cross them, which they will.

Have you bumped into any of these types of toxic people? Please share your thoughts in the comments section, as I learn just as much from you as you do from me.

Want to learn more from me? Check out my book, Emotional Intelligence 2.0.

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

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#http://www.happiness2arab.tk/2017/05/10-toxic-people-you-should-avoid-like.html

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imreviewblog · 7 years

Text

10 Toxic People You Should Avoid Like The Plague

“People inspire you, or they drain you—pick them wisely.” – Hans F. Hansen

Toxic people drive you crazy because their behavior is so irrational. Make no mistake about it—their behavior truly goes against reason...

1. The Gossip

“Great minds discuss ideas, average ones discuss events, and small minds discuss people.” – Eleanor Roosevelt

2. The Temperamental

3. The Victim

4. The Self-Absorbed

5. The Envious

6. The Manipulator

Maintaining an emotional distance requires awareness. You can’t stop someone from pushing your buttons if you don’t recognize when it’s happening.

7. The Dementor

8. The Twisted

9. The Judgmental

10. The Arrogant

How to Protect Yourself Once You Spot ‘Em

Have you bumped into any of these types of toxic people? Please share your thoughts in the comments section, as I learn just as much from you as you do from me.

Want to learn more from me? Check out my book, Emotional Intelligence 2.0.

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from Healthy Living - The Huffington Post http://bit.ly/2qe0LdH

#Healthy Living - The Huffington Post

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