#verse 12

[bi-accident]

ibi dabo tibi ubera mea.

Alleluia

- Chapter 7, verse 12 -

[legacy-hero-blog]

Closed Starter

@deadshxt-mccree She hummed as she turned the object around in her hand, looking at it from all angles. Estelle squinted as she reached behind her for the toolbox without looking. She moved her arm farther away until she found the screwdriver and dragged it toward herself. She was sitting cross-legged on the wooden table as she worked on the piece of machinery that lay in her lap. It was supposed to be the ignition, but something was wrong with it. Wires jutted out from random places and some half-loosened screws sat uneasily on the top. With every movement Estelle made the table wobbled on its uneven legs. It used to annoy her, but she didn't feel like fixing it. She didn't really mind it now. She let one of her legs hang off the table and swung it back and forth in rhythm. Suddenly, she heard on of the doors to the compound close. She stopped humming and let her leg fall still; she glanced up with wide eyes, a curious expression on her face.

[legacy-hero-blog]

Closed Starter for Howdys

@howdys

Estelle’s fingers twitched, tapping the side of her leg in rhythm. She stood as still as possible, not wanting to bother the others in the line. She hated it when she had to join the rest of the people in the compound for meals or announcements. They were all much older than her and they all either looked at her with pity or looked at her like she was a pest, both of which she hated. She tried to make herself as small as possible, hoping that no one would notice her. It didn’t always work.

She grabbed her food tray and looked down at it in disappointment. They gave her smaller portions again. She knew that the people who were actually fighting and doing important things needed it more than she did, but she was still hungry. She thanked the person behind the counter and walked quickly away.

She headed toward her usual table in the corner of the room, but froze about 10 feet away from her table. There were people sitting there. She panicked a little, but saw that her seat at the table was open. She studied the people at the table. One of them stuck out, the person with the cowboy hat. He looked younger than most of the other people at the base. She had seen him around; he seemed nice. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if she sat there.

Estelle hesitated a moment, but then she sat quietly down at her usual seat.

[puppetoffthehook]

“Have you always been this… not awful?” Robin, verse 14, likely after he gave her a lift to work because Steve was out of commission with a cold.

@holmesdepot

He looked at Robin with tired eyes. “Guess getting possessed, skewered alive, and waking up to find out you lost what little family you have really puts shit into perspective.”

He’s too tired to be angry anymore. At least, not the kind of angry he used to be where things got broken and he wanted the world to burn. No, this was a quiet anger buried by acceptance that his life would always be this way. A defeatist mindset for a boy masquerading as a man who just felt so damn defeated. “Have fun running the station. I gotta go scavenge some more parts.”

[puppetoffthehook]

Verse 12: Breaking the Law

Billy has been helping the Party since that spring break Max nearly died. Having woken up from a coma sometime after everything went down the previous summer he discovers he’s all alone. Neil fucked off, Susan hasn’t been seen since the trailer park got destroyed, and Max is in a coma just like he was only.. different.

He’s homeless now because the house on Cherry Lane isn’t theirs anymore and the trailer is gone. Everything he ever owned was also gone, including the money he’d saved from the lifeguard position. And his car was a wreck in the junkyard. Being the stubborn bastard he was, Billy didn’t ask for help. Instead he slept in the broken down bus in the junkyard, ate cheap fast food for most meals, and kept some toiletries to take care of his hygiene at the pool house even if he really didn’t want to go there anymore.

To be useful to the group now that they’ve told him what’s going on, he helps fix their vehicles, gets items they need from places in Hawkins where it’s available to avoid military detection, and occasionally jumps in the truck to help Murray sneak in things from the outside.

He’s the one relaying what they need to Murray after gathering requests from all members. He keeps track of the personnel at the entrance to the quarantine zone, noting guard shift changes and which ones are less likely to care about checking cargo.

When he’s not working on things for the others, Billy is often visiting Max in the hospital. Telling her how sorry he is that he wasn’t there and begging her to wake up so he can make things right. Maybe if she’d wake up they can try again at being siblings. When he’s not at the hospital, he’s at the junkyard fixing up his car as much as he can on his own. He made her shine like new once, he can do it again.

[thecaffrey]

punishment || [ solo ]

Neal was sleeping when the sharp knock at the door woke him. 

He’d had a fitful time trying to achieve rest, plagued by the events of his day with Allison, so he was especially irritated at being awoken. Groaning when he looked over at his clock and noticed it was 3 AM, barely over an hour after he’d drifted off, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed his gun off the nightstand on his way to the door. Opening it, he was greeted by a familiar face. “Jones,” he said, dropping the pistol back to his side. “What’s going on?” His brother in arms wouldn’t be on his doorstep so late if there wasn’t something amiss. If the hour wasn’t clue enough, the look on Jones’ face told him that he wasn’t just ‘in the neighborhood’. 

“The boss called a meeting,” Jones informed him. The question of the hour of night still hung in the air, but Neal nodded. He turned back inside, pulling on some clothes and stuffing his pistol in his waistband before he followed Jones out the door.”

Silence filled the car as the pair drove to the destination. Neal noticed right away that they were taking a different route than to the Argent estate, where any actual meeting would be held. However, he already knew what this was about, and he kept his mouth shut. Part of him wondered why he shouldn’t just pull his pistol out now, place the barrel between his lips, and save Chris the trouble. Still, he remained a benign passenger as he stared straight ahead in silence. His eyes never broke contact with the road ahead until they reached their destination. He recognized the derelict warehouse as the location of one of his initiation tests.

As he stepped out of the car, another of his brothers grabbed his arm. As Neal turned his blue eyes to him, Jones came around and took his pistol, sticking it in his own waistband. “Don’t scuff that,” Neal warned him. “It was a gift.” Jones merely looked at him, the pity evident. The look itself added a fuel to the constant embers of anger that resided in him, and he shook off both pairs of hands that grasped his shoulders. Declaring a cold, “I can escort myself,” he did just that. His heartbeat drummed in his ears as he reached down to lift the door of the warehouse from the bottom. He knew from the amount of vehicles scattered around the lot that most of the family was here to watch his inevitable death, and he knew from one vehicle in particular that Chris was there to be the executioner himself. Such an act should have been beneath their boss, so Neal supposed he should feel honored. Instead, he merely felt sick to his stomach that a brat like Allison was going to be the reason he drew his last breath.

When the light from the warehouse illuminated him, Neal noticed that every eye in the room shifted toward him. All his brothers and sisters were gathered around in a semi-circle, and positioned at the place of honor was Chris. 

Neal did not hesitate as he took the step forward. Every test he had endured before being admitted to the family had prepared him for his inevitable death, but he never thought the cause would be so dishonorable. As he approached Chris, he knelt down on one knee, bowing his head to the man who had given him everything and would soon strip it all away. He sat there, head bowed as he waited for his punishment to begin.

“Neal,” Chris began in a steady voice, but as second-in-command, Neal could still sense the jagged edges in his tone. “Do you know why we brought you here tonight?”

“Yes, sir,” was his simple response, his eyes still glued to the floor as he continued to kneel. The scuff of steady footsteps approached him before stopping in front so he was no longer staring at dirty cement, but rather looking at his own reflection in the brilliant shine of Chris Argent’s Oxfords. He fully expected it when he felt fingers clutching into his dark locks of hair and knee come up to make a firm connection with his nose. Neal reeled back, falling on his backside. Without bringing a hand up to examine the nose he already knew was broken, he scrambled back to his kneeling position, both hands on the pavement as crimson droplets fell to stain the cement. 

Neither of them exchanged a word until Chris commanded him to “get up” in a sandpaper tone. Neal did as he was told, his cornflower blue eyes finally making contact with the pale blues of his boss. “Allison came to me after you dropped her off. It was much earlier than I expected her home. Care to explain why?”

Neal looked at the man in power that stood in front of him, choosing his words carefully. “Certain events made it evident that we shouldn’t continue the day as it was. I thought it would be better to try again tomorrow.”

“And why didn’t you report these events to me?”

“Because-” 

The sentence was cut short as Chris’ fist connected with Neal’s stomach. As Neal doubled over, gasping for air, Chris threaded his fingers through his hair to yank his gaze back up to him. “There is no answer you can give to explain your actions.”

Still filling his lungs with the breath that had been knocked from them, Neal could only nod in response. It seemed sufficient, seeing as Chris then let go of his locks of hair and walked away. It would have been naive for him to believe that his punishment was over, so when he straightened up again and saw one of his sisters hand Chris a pair of silver knuckles, he did not even flinch. Rather, he placed his hands behind his back and clasped them in a relaxed manner, expressionless as he waited. The boss approached him with intent, sliding the metal knuckles over his fingers and making a tight fist. Neal did not brace for the impact across his jaw, but it also did not send him sprawling. At this point, Chris was still holding back, he thought to himself. 

As Chris readjusted the knuckles on his fist, he asked, “I gave you explicit orders before you left with her. Why couldn’t you follow them?” He flexed his knuckles before looking back up at the bloody subordinate that stood before him.

Neal spit the blood that lingered in his mouth before answering. “I can’t speak to that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“I promised her that I wouldn’t say. Obviously, she didn’t afford me the same courtesy.” Neal knew he was overstepping at that point, and the knowledge was confirmed as Chris sent another right hook directly into his jaw. This one sent Neal staggering a little before he regained his balance. He could feel the warm blood trickling down his cheek from the gash.

Chris no longer seemed collected between the punches, his anger beginning to flare behind his eyes. His jaw was set, and a vein was throbbing in his neck. “Why did you display your brand?” was the next question from Chris’ mouth. 

Licking his lips, Neal replied, “It was unintentional. It was warm, so I took my jacket off, rolled up my sleeves. At one point, I reached over and the mark was exposed to a single civilian and Miss Argent. I was not showing it off.” Glancing around the room, he noticed that some of his siblings were beginning to pass glances to one another. It was both uncommon and unwise to be talking so candidly to the boss, and he was well-aware that if it wasn’t already Chris’ intention to kill him, he was quickly making a case to. Still, his brain was still slightly reeling from the punches, and he was having trouble continuing to bite his tongue. 

The boss was still eyeing him, unsatisfied, so Neal continued against his best judgement. “You assigned her to me because you know what I’m capable of. You know I can protect her, and I’d challenge you to let any one here attempt to succeed where I failed. You asked me to protect her, but she is your daughter. Young and rebellious, but still yours. Do you think that even a team could stop her if she really wanted to escape? She’s smart. She uses crowds to her advantage and does not follow orders, especially if she knows they came from you. The way she is now, you can either keep her happy or keep her safe. She’s a wolf, like you, and wolves don’t do well on short leashes.”

That was too far. Even in his half-addled state, Neal knew that.

The familiar look of fire ignited behind Chris’ icy blues. Neal didn’t even have time to spit the blood that had collected in the back of his throat again before his boss reeled back, armored fist connecting with his left cheekbone. The hit forced him back to the ground, but the concrete held no mercy for him. Before his head could hit the pavement, he was hauled back up by his shirt collar. His head delirious from the abuse, he couldn’t even register the next few punches, just his own blood dripping from the glinting metal around Chris’ knuckles.

Finally, the grasp on his collar was released, and he he fell to a slump on the pavement. Muffled voices surrounded him, deafening in their ambiguity. But then he heard the familiar sound of a gun cocking. One of his eyes was swollen shut, but his pale gaze still peaked from one to see the barrel of his own gun pointed down at him.

“I expected so much more from you,” Chris said, softly enough that Neal almost had to read his lips to understand. His thumb went back to the safety, releasing it as his finger poised over the trigger. Neal closed his eyes, accepting a fate he had seen coming. 

[thecaffrey]

first impressions || verse 12

Neal load a fresh cartridge of bullets into his favorite handgun, ensuring the safety was engaged as he looked the piece over. It had been a gift from his boss, Chris Argent, just a day before when he was given his new assignment. Engraved into the side of the silver barrel was the Argent family’s motto: nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent. In its simplicity, it meant that he was no longer just a brother in arms, but that he would now protect the most priceless item in Mr. Argent’s collection - his daughter, Allison. Though Neal had killed countless enemies to the family, had gone to war with opposing gangs to ensure Argent territory was left unscathed, and had endured the borderline-torturous rituals that preceded admittance into the family that he now called his own, guarding the young Argent heir would surely be his most difficult task yet.

Though he had not seen the girl in years - the party held in honor of his admittance as a new brother in the family, to be exact - his memory of her was not especially fond. When he had met her, she was only 14. Freckles had littered her ruddy cheeks, and her dark hair had been pulled tight against her head in a french braid that rested down her shoulders. From what he could tell in that meeting, she was a spoiled little girl. That much was to be expected, however. What had been unexpected was what she had said to him that night. As he had been flying high in celebration and disbelief that he had passed every test set before him and was now a fully-fledged member of one of the most notorious crime families in New York, the little brat had cornered him. “Are you ready to die for my father? Because you will. They all do,” she had told him in a sing-song voice before prancing off to rejoin her parents at the head of the table. Every time a bullet rang past his ears in the four years since, he had heard that same voice, cooing to him that he would die. Would she even remember that she had been so cold, or was the act so commonplace for her, such a forgettable passing fancy that she would not recognize him?

It felt like a blessing that the young heir was sent away to boarding school shortly after, for Neal was sure that if he had to see her snide face every day, he would have died from the mocking alone. Now, however, she had returned from her leave and was set to attend Columbia University. Without the protection that her private school had afforded, it was now Neal’s job to make sure that Allison was able to live a full life as a college student while also ensuring her safety. He would gladly take a bullet for her father, but the girl who had foreseen his death on their first meeting was another story entirely. Still, his loyalty remained, and he would do whatever Mr. Argent asked of him.

Slipping the pistol into its holster on his belt, he looked at himself in the mirror. He straightened his tie before shrugging on his suit jacket to hide the weapon from plain sight, heading out the door of his apartment.

When he arrived at the Argent mansion, he was greeted by the staff there. Neal made his way up to Chris’ office, letting himself in and giving the customary demure bow to his boss. No pleasantries were exchanged before Chris cut to business. “Neal, today you’re to take Allison to school in one of the family vehicles. You’re to accompany her to all classes, but not to draw attention. You are not to speak to her unless you are spoken to. I expect you’ll be professional, and you won’t let your guard down. This is the most I’ve ever asked of you, and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the consequences if you should fail.” Neal swallowed hard, but kept his composure with lips pressed firmly together. 

“I understand, sir. On my life, I will protect her,” he answered. As if on cue, the doors to the office flung open, and Neal bowed again after catching a fleeting glimpse of who was on the other side. “Miss Argent, I am your new guard. Please, let me know when you’re ready to go,” he greeted, straightening back up to fully look at his new charge. He blinked. This was not the same freckled brat he had known. Before him was the most charming young woman, and he found himself swallowing thickly once more.

[keeganbooks]

KNOWING YOUR BIBLE

The focus this week will be on helping the reader understand that there is a connection between Bible books through geographic sites named in the Bible  The events that took place in some of these geographic sites may have occurred hundreds of years apart, during different time periods, but located in the same general geographic sites. 

The previous few blogs have focused on the organization of the Bible books and the timeline of when the different books of the Bible were written. A connection between the books of the Bible can be realized by studying this information and the following information about geographic sites in the Bible. 

By identifying a geographic site in a Bible book, and then looking at the time table of when that particular book was written, the reader will begin to realize when and where the event took place. Then as the reader finds the same geographic site listed in another book of the Bible, and looks at the timeline of when that book was written, the reader will begin to see a connection by geographic site between the 2 books that had the site listed. An example will be listed below.

The town of Bethlehem is a geographic site that is listed in several Bible books that were written several hundred years apart. The name of the town of Bethlehem was first mentioned in Genesis, chapter 35, verse 19 where Rachel, wife of Jacob, was buried some 1800 years BC. The book of Ruth took place in and around Bethlehem 600-700 years later and was written about events that occurred in the 1125 BC time-frame. Ruth was King David’s great grandmother. The story of King David as a young man in around Bethlehem in the 1050 BC time-frame can be read in 1st Samuel, chapter 16, verses 4-13. The book of Micah was written in the 700′s BC. Micah prophesied in Micah, chapter 5, verse’s 2-4 of Jesus’s birth in Bethlehem.  Finally, the birth of Jesus which occurred in 6 BC, was written in the New Testament books of Matthew, chapter 1, verses 18, through chapter 2, verse 12; and in Luke, chapter 2, verses 1-38. All dates are approximate, but the reader can track the town of Bethlehem over a time-frame of approximately 1800 years.

There are several hundred or more geographic sites listed in the Bible. Below will be a few sites listed with Bible verses from several Bible books listed. Following these geographic sites through the different books of the Bible will help the reader realize a connection between Bible books through geographic sites, and identify more clearly the time frame of when the books were written. This will help the reader gain proficiency in the use and study of the Bible.

                  MAY GOD BLESS YOUR BIBLE STUDY THIS WEEK!

Mount Moriah: Genesis, chapter 22, verse 2; 2nd Samuel, chapter 24, verses 18-25; 2nd Chronicles, chapter 3, verse 1.

Jerusalem: 2nd Samuel, chapter 5, verses 6-10; 2nd Chronicles, chapter 3, verse 1; Jeremiah, chapter 3, verses 15-18; Matthew, chapter 21, verses 1-3. (Jerusalem can be found in several Old Testament history Books and New Testament gospel Books). Acts, chapter 1, verses 12-15.

Mount of Olives: Matthew, chapter 21, verses 1-3; Act, chapter 1, verse 12.

Sea of Galilee: Referred to as the Sea of Chinnereth: Numbers, chapter 34, verses 11-12; Joshua, chapter 12, verse 3 and chapter 13, verse 27; called the Lake of Gennesaret: Luke, chapter 5, verse 1; The Sea of Galilee/The Sea of Tiberias, John, chapter 6, verse 1 and chapter 21, verse 1.

The Jordan River: Numbers, chapter 34, verse 12; Joshua, chapter 12, verse 1; Mark, chapter 1, verse 4-9.