#concordat

Obviously Iseul can’t be that normal if he was excited to be a corps officer, and some others on this app have pointed out some of his other suspicious behaviors,

but there is NO WAY he is the only member in cell 4 NOT AFFILIATED WITH A GANG.

Sayeon- Crimson/Sea Wolves (sister and mom)

Min-Crimson/Begonia??(Samin, and he was rapture trafficked which begonia is known for)

Ryujin-Sea Wolves (Mother and Concordat)

Iseul-???

Skimmer lore! Absolutely wild mention of Concordat. Eva mentions some additional stuff about it as well:

Trying to get the juices flowing on this old dead horse of mine. I feel like I got a little cutesy with it back in Chapter 27, so here that is in its entirety. Crowlthazar drum roll for the win.

THE PENTHOUSE - EVENING

Late in the day at old Heathcliff Studios. Parties all over the highrise where in full swing. It seemed like there was only one peaceful place in the building, and that was Crowley's room. The TV was on mute and Nina Simone's "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" played quietly on the hifi. There were empty liquor bottles scattered around the armchair, and Crowley and Balthazar had resorted to drinking vermouth and cola. Crowley was still on Balthazar's lap and probably would've bitten anyone who tried to move him. He was near the end of a drunken rant:

"...I've even started playing video games," Crowley said, "that's how bored I am. And I end up doing the same thing in them that I do out here: I'm just grinding."

Balthazar snickered. "Grinding?" he asked. "What kind of video games are you playing?"

"It means when you do the same thing over and over," Crowley explained, "for money or experience. Slaying wild boars in the forest or some wank like that, to level up. You do it and you do it, and then one day, you look up and wonder where your life went. I'm the rat in the Skinner box pulling the lever. Killing pigs and waiting for the coins to drop."

"Silly prince of darkness," Balthazar said, but then started snickering again - he was just drunk enough to think 'prince of darkness' was funny. "You're waiting for the best part, but waiting is the best part."

Crowley frowned. "Are you talking about tantric pig-slaying? Because it's overrated."

"What I'm talking about is this: nothing in life feels as amazing as knowing something good is about to happen. The popcorn never tastes as good as it smells. Disneyland isn't half as fun as spotting the Matterhorn from the highway. It's the most incredible feeling in the universe. The trick is, dragging it out."

Crowley listened a moment, then started laughing his ass off.

"What's funny?" Balthazar asked.

"Basically?" Crowley asked. "You just said that becoming the co-ruler of an unequivocal global empire isn't going to feel as good as sitting here with me, right now, skunk as a drunk and talking about nothing."

"...Did I really say that?" Balthazar asked. "I don't think I said that."

"No, you did," Crowley said, giving Balthazar a joking hug, "just a bit. But no worries, Taz, I heart you, too. In fact..." Crowley ran his hand over Balthazar's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He whispered in his ear, "I'm in the mood to play a game. We could play 'Crossroads'."

Balthazar pried Crowley's hand off. "You're drunk."

"That's how you play," Crowley said. He kept at it, nuzzling Balthazar, nibbling his ear. "I'll give you a head start."

Balthazar nudged Crowley off him, not unkindly. "I'm not doing anything with you when you're drunk that you wouldn't do sober."

Crowley sighed with frustration. But he was too sloshed to be all that disappointed. "Why do you have to be such a prude when you're hammered?"

"Why can't you be more of a slut when you're sober?" Balthazar asked. His resolve was waning. "I will take a gropey snuggle, though. To fortify myself against family issues."

Crowley made a face, disgusted. "What is it with you and snuggling?" he asked. "I don't snuggle, that counts as something I wouldn't do sober. You're a bloody sky warrior, and I'm the Devil, we're not the cuddly sort. Bad for the image."

"How are we not cuddly?" Balthazar asked, taking both their drinks and setting them on the cart. "We cuddle people all the time. We cuddle fans, sponsors - we cuddled Tom Bergeron in that Christmas special."

The horrifying realization sank in for Crowley. "Oh, bollocks. We are cuddly... When did this happen?"

"Photoshoots," Balthazar said, his voice full of regret. "Everyone sells out for a wind machine." He gathered Crowley up in his arms and stood up, very wobbly. He did his best to carry Crowley to his bed.

"You know," Crowley said, "for someone who doesn't want the game, you certainly know how to play."

"Better you pass out in bed than on the floor," Balthazar said.

When Balthazar got to the bed, he collapsed onto it, taking Crowley with him. For a minute, they laid beside each other, waiting out the dizziness. Balthazar's face was smooshed against the duvet.

"Just need the room to stop spinning," Balthazar said, "then I'll be sip sape. Shape tape... Grape Ape."

"What you get for drinking all day," Crowley said, chuckling under his breath. "That's neat how you do that."

"I know," Balthazar said, "I've got a liver the size of a coconut."

Crowley laughed. "Not that," he said. "You take care of me. Nobody else does that. Why do you do that?"

"I dunno," Balthazar said, really thinking about it. But it wasn't easy, his head was swimming. "I think... well, it makes me feel... you know, good. Strong."

"You are strong," Crowley told him. Alright, it was a little cajoling.

Balthazar shook his head sadly, "No, I play strong. You do all the work, you take all the hits. You fix everything. And I just... spend money and have parties... Marry Kardashians. I should've been with you today. I could've protected you. Instead of being holed up here, necking with security."

"The twins are very neckable," Crowley said. "You skipped one meeting-."

"And you could've been killed," Balthazar said, cutting Crowley off. "Don't try to put this into context, you'll only make my point for me."

Crowley giggled at the seriousness. "Aww, you angels take things so hard," he said. "We got the sniper, right? Maybe we'll even find the Colt. Hey. I'm not your job, Taz. I can take care of myself."

"That's not the point," Balthazar said, still feeling sorry for himself. Wallowing majestically. "I still should've been there. You've always been the strong one."

"Not always." Crowley put his hand on Balthazar's cheek clumsily.

They looked at each other for a moment, very intimate, their faces inches apart.

"If I you could have one wish," Crowley whispered, "what would it be?"

And that was it, Balthazar's resolve was gone. He pulled Crowley into his arms. Into a slow, tender kiss, full of longing. Crowley responded, deeply, passionately. And when it ended, they lingered close, refusing to break apart.

"You skipped a step," Crowley said breathlessly.

"I think it shows initiative," Balthazar said.

Agreement between Napoleon Bonaparte and Pope Pius VII on 15 July 1801 in Paris.

Rome seems to have made immense sacrifices. The first advantage won by the First Consul was to seal, by the very act of signing an agreement, the recognition of the French Republic by the Holy See, and hence the rupture of the traditional alliance between Rome and the legitimate monarchies. It was a disastrous blow to French royalism in exile, for it freed the faithful in the interior from scruples about the regime of the Year VIII.

The second advantage was to confirm a church of salaried public servants, amenable to the State and having mainly sociological functions. Here we see a continuation of the Gallican tradition, but also of the thought of philosophes who had urged both the submission of the clergy to the State and its integration within it. The refusal to reestablish the religious orders meant also the rejection of any ecclesiastical life that might escape the authority of the bishops. Even the cathedral chapters were reduced to decorative functions.

Thirdly, no question was raised about the sale of the former Church properties, a matter of great importance for strengthening the prestige of Bonaparte in the eyes of the property-owning segments of French society.

Pius VII, for his part, failed to obtain the recognition of Catholicism as the state religion. He agreed to use his authority for what Consalvi called “the massacre of a whole episcopate,” by requiring the resignation of all French bishops, both constitutional and refractory, since Napoleon judged such a step to be indispensable for effacing all traces of the revolutionary schism. It is right to see in this operation an encouragement to ultramontanism, for it affirmed the powers of the Pope over the French Church. But it also encouraged a tendency in the French episcopate, that is, a whole ecclesiological movement for appeal to an ecumenical council in matters of discipline.

Among the numerous provisions of the Articles we may point out those that legalized all forms of worship in France, and those that strictly subordinated the lower clergy to the bishops (“prefects in violet robes”): only a fifth of the parish priests received the title of curé, and with it secure tenure; all others became simple desservants of succursales, that is assistant pastors.

This is what the Church got out of the deal:

What then did the Pope gain in this Concordat, “more likely to raise difficulties than to solve them” (Bernard Plongeron). Maintenance of the unity of the Roman Church, which a consolidation of the schism in France might have ruined forever; recognition of canonical investiture, which allowed the Pope to overcome the zelanti among the cardinals who opposed the Concordat but favored a reinforcement of spiritual authority; and resumption of regular pastoral life in France, where the new administrative and social status of the priest encouraged a growing number of ordinations, which reached several hundred by the end of the Empire.

Pius VII in any case remained attached to the results accomplished, a fact that deprived the small “shadow church” opposed to the Concordat of the possibility of resistance. His continuing attitude was shown later in his willingness to come to Paris for the Emperor’s coronation.

Source: Louis Bergeron, L'Episode napoléonien. Aspects, intérieurs: 1799-1815

Allegory of the Concordat of 1801, by Pierre Joseph Célestin François

The Gaian Concordat (fictional flag for fictional NATO-based alliance)