#(Re)Entangled verse

[scienter]

Wind and Truth Chapters 14 & 15

DAY 2

POV: Dalinar, Jasnah, Navani, Fen, Yanagawn, Adolin, Shallan, Szeth, Sigizil, Kaladin, Lift, Renarin, Rlain, Lopen

There are so many POVs in this section! I’m looking forward to this. This is what I love about epic fantasy. So many perspectives.

CHAPTER 14

Epigraph: As I approached the first crossroads, I met a family seeking a new life. – From The Way of Kings, fourth parable

So, why is the Way of The Kings relevant again? Is it because Kaladin becomes the King of Urithiru or King of the Heralds? Or is it related to Dalinar’s journey? (or both?)

How much better would all of this have gone if Dalinar had died in his brother’s place that fateful night? Perhaps this war would already have been won.

NO! No, Dalinar, it wouldn’t. Gavilar was a shit king.

Jasnah liked trying new things; this relationship itself was, in a way, such an experiment. She had enjoyed it for many reasons—the scheming together, the sharing of incredible plans, the chance to connect with someone so intellectually stimulating. Relationships were about compromise, she had read, and so she’d procured a new bed. And she hated it. She swam in stuffing, irritationspren—like pink motes almost invisible in the night—bobbing around her as she listened to Wit breathing. He didn’t snore, but he did occasionally whistle.

I’m not bothered by this ship like so many other people are. It makes sense to me (their relationship is mostly intellectual). But it's not going to last. This entire section screams DOOMED. Wit doesn’t have it in him to go the distance with anyone.

And storms. This was why it was best to avoid such entanglements. Eight days until Dalinar confronted Odium, and she was worrying about a relationship.

I love this about Jasnah. Yes, she’s intellectual, calculating, and cold. But she’s not as stoic as she appears. She cares deeply about the people around her.

What if, instead of hiding her powers, she’d told people what she could do and what she feared?

What powers is Jasnah hiding?

Her life and Dalinar’s seemed very different. He’d burned a city, and people forgave him. He’d proclaimed the Almighty to be dead, and half the ardents had joined him. Yet when Jasnah was honest about her atheism, her thoughts on government, or her displeasure with traditions like the safehand… well, condemnation and judgment had chased her like twin headsmen, each looking to get a whipping in before the execution.

THANK YOU FOR POINTING THIS OUT BRANDON.

Look, I LOVE Dalinar. He’s my second favorite Stormlight character after Kaladin. But I’ll admit Dalinar sometimes gets Draco in Leather Pants treatment.  Both in-verse and from the fandom.

It reminded her of the soft restraints they’d given her when she’d been young. When those who loved her had locked her away for a few terrible months that basically everyone else had forgotten about.

Longer than a mortal mind can track, so I store memories in something called Breath,

I just re-read Warbreaker, and I don’t think anyone in the book used Breathe that way. . .

I’m dying for a Warbreaker sequel btw.

Jasnah turned off her alarms, then pulled a chair over and sank down, feeling sick to her stomach. “I asked you, Wit,” she whispered. “I asked you to involve me in any dealings you had with him.” “I’m telling you now, Jasnah,” he said. “That is, technically, involving you.”

Hoid . . . you’re such a dum-dum sometimes.

She held his eyes and knew. There would never be a place for her inside his deepest self, would there? She’d always be on the outside, maintained as part of his collection. Enjoyed, perhaps even loved, but never confided in.

DOOMED. DOOMED. DOOMED.

“Fantastically wrong. Rayse is a megalomaniac, Jasnah. For all his craftiness, it would hurt him to let me walk away thinking I’d bested him. Yet this time he encouraged it.” Wit leaned forward and took her hand. “He’s grown. After ten thousand years, Rayse has actually learned something. That terrifies me. Because if I can’t anticipate what he will do…”

I wonder who’ll be the one to figure out it’s not Rayse. Renarin, perhaps?

“You’re right,” he said. He took a deep breath. “You’re… you’re right. We need an expert, beyond even my considerable knowledge.” “Do you know any?” “On your world?” he asked. “Only one, but she and I aren’t on speaking terms. I will instead see if I can contact an old friend…”

. . . I guess Hoid and Cultivation aren’t on speaking terms?

I wonder who this old friend he plans on contacting? Another Shard on another world? 🤔

It should be, the Sibling said in her mind. They rarely dared infiltrate me before. My Light not only knocks Fused unconscious, it makes the Radiants here virtually invincible. We need to learn how to send that Light with them, Navani thought back, trailing through the room, resting her fingers on each fabrial she could reach. Spren of a half dozen varieties followed like a cloak made of light. It cannot be done, the Sibling said. Humans cannot hold my Light; they are too full of holes.

Hm. How about the Heralds? They’re cognitive shadows.

Anyway, this is why I doubt Navani will die. I don’t think Brandon would get Towerlight working, just to reverse it in the next book.

No, the Sibling said. You’re part of me, and I am part of you. The tower doesn’t need sleep. You will not either.

Navani doesn’t need sleep anymore? Oh, I’d love that superpower.

She should have asked, but there was so much to learn. She’d discovered only yesterday that she couldn’t leave the tower for any extended period of time, or it would weaken the bond. A few weeks at most was all she could risk.

So, if Navani wants to use her Radiant powers she stuck there. That sucks.

“The queen would like advice from her most brilliant of advisors: Is she too old for quality time with her husband? Perhaps she is too distinguished for an occasional tumble in the surf?” “I wasn’t talking about that,” she replied. “Just the part where we snuck away from the guards and found a hammock. You’re almost seventy, you know.” “And the average age of your merchant council must be somewhere in the eighties,” Kmakl replied. “So by that comparison, we’re basically a new schooner. Now stop distracting me from distracting you.” She sighed, but relaxed into the swaying hammock, the rough canvas rubbing her bare skin. Waves rocked the ship, and her cares fled before warm perfection. Until a brilliant white light lit the cabin. Damnation.

It’s not explicit, but it’s definitely implied that Fen and her husband are having sex. Is this the first sex scene in Brandon’s books? Siri and Susesbron have fade-to-black and post-coital scenes, but I don’t recall any scenes with couples in the middle of the act.

CHAPTER 15

“Hakindar brought me six different soaps,” Adolin said. “And a rough sand mix from Marat to exfoliate! There’s this one soap out of Thaylenah—they use it on their eyebrows—that is fantastic for hair.”

Of course, Adolin is into exfoliation, soaps, and shampoos. It makes sense that Afolin's vanity extends to beauty products.

Also, we got another scene with a nude couple! 😊

I don’t need explicit sex scenes to enjoy epic fantasy, but I’m glad that Bradon's getting more comfortable including physical intimacy in the cosmere.

“I don’t blame you for wanting someone to prep my father for you. He can be… stern to those who disappoint him.” She perhaps sensed the bitterness in his tone, noticed how several joyspren winked away. It had been a year since Adolin had learned Dalinar killed his mother, and he couldn’t let go. As he set Shallan down, she took his face in her hands. “Would it help to talk?” she asked. “I don’t know, Shallan,” he said. “Honestly, I don’t want to think about him. Or talk to him. I don’t want to fix things between us. I just… I…” He’d thought waiting would let the pain fade. It had instead festered. He found himself more angry than he’d been when he’d first found out.

Oh good! Please give us more of this Brandon! One of my disappointments with ROW was the lack of follow-up to Dalinar’s story in Oathbringer. I’m dying to see Adolin confront Dalinar over what he did to Evi. I don't want Adolin to gloss over something SO BIG.

(I don’t think there was enough Dalinar in ROW in general, but that’s a whole other discussion.)

“I know,” she whispered, head to his chest once more. “I want to kiss you until you can’t breathe and spend a week never leaving our rooms. But we can’t. Not yet. Mraize will try to hurt me, love. Prove that I was foolish to cross him. To get to me, he’ll capture or kill you if he can. I have to act before he does.”

Possible Adolin death flag? Or am I so neurotic that one of the main characters is going to die in this book that I’m seeing death flags where there are none?

(I’m convinced SOMEONE major is dying. The question is who?)

She stepped back to him, went up on her toes, and kissed him, water falling around them like applause. The heat he’d been fighting off rose within him, outdoing that of the stream from above, and the passionspren fell more powerfully. It seemed that whether or not she had time to spare, they were going to find it.

Ok, Brandon, can we get a tasteful Dalinar and Navani (implicit) sex scene next? They’re my favorite Stormlight couple.

“It’s not just Azimir and Thaylen City—there’s a third offensive. A large number of Fused are marching on the Shattered Plains.”

Oh shit.

“Dalinar Kholin?” a voice asked. He spun, but found that Colot the guardsman had already stepped between him and the speaker. She was a shorter woman, Makabaki, in brown clothing. Black hair in tight curls, heavyset build. Dark brown eyes that shimmered with something he couldn’t define. “Do I know you?” Dalinar asked. “We’ve met,” she said, then turned and walked along the balcony railing. She waved for him to follow. “You give orders to the king of Urithiru?” Colot said. “What manner of—” “Stay back,” Dalinar said, waving to them all. Then he ran to catch up to the woman. Her air, attitude, and looks dredged up deep memories. Ones he’d once forgotten by her own hand. No. It couldn’t be. Could it? Cultivation. The third god.

THAT’S WHERE YOU’RE ENDING THIS, BRANDON!?

How very Charles Dickens. lol

Maybe Cultivation wants to warn Dalinar about Todium?

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Don't you think there's better ways of showing support for Palestinians/Israeli Christians than by perpetuating the "Jesus was Palestinian" myth that people constantly try and use to deny Jewish indigeneity. Allegory or not, it's not a great look for someone who purports to be against that kind of erasure and supercessionism. Also, having 1 line about how his death was the Empire's fault so don't blame the Jews is meaningless when in this allegory, the Empire (Israeli government) *is* Jewish

(anyone curious about what anon's referring to, I believe it's my poem here)

Hey there anon, thank you for your feedback. In this situation where various marginalized peoples are being pitted against each other (and/or conflated with political groups), I've been struggling to make sure my words don't add to the misinformation and harm. So whenever someone takes the time to remind me of that danger, I'll take the time to re-examine my words — even if I end up standing by them, as I mostly do in this case.

I can't promise to say and do all the perfect things, because there isn't time to waste getting my words just right before saying something — people are dying right now (and yes, anon, that includes those Israelis who are still hostages of Hamas, who are also endangered by Israel's continued attacks.)

I have been spending much of my free time these past few months learning more about Israel and Palestine, and I still don't feel I'm even close to knowing enough! But I've listened to those who are actually in the midst of the violence who say that all of us across the world must join their cry now, not letting our ignorance be an excuse. That means there have been a few things I've said that I then had to re-consider after learning more.

...

Just a few days ago, I was actually trying to look into the origins of the statement that "Jesus was a Palestinian Jew." (Btw if anyone knows the origins of this statement, please hit me up!)

Arguments against it note that the term "Palestinian" didn't exist in Jesus' day. Looking into the accuracy of that statement is still on my to-do list; I did skim over this article calling it a myth but yeah, still digging. Regardless, sure, I don't think Jesus called himself a Palestinian in his lifetime.

That doesn't necessarily mean that the statement is useless, however. I do very much believe that if Jesus were born today, in the same place, he'd be born to a Jewish Palestinian family, not an Israeli one.

That does not erase his Jewishness; it confirms God's "preferential option for the poor," God's choice to side with and become one with the most oppressed and discarded. It also does not assert that Jewish persons don't "belong" in the region — only that the modern nation/colony Israel isn't necessary for them to live and thrive there.

All that said, if anyone has more info on the statement that "Jesus was a Palestinian" — its origins, how it's been used over the years — I would absolutely like to examine it further. For now, I stand by the phrase, with an openness to re-considering that with further education.

...

I feel more confident in talking about Empire — how I used it in my poem, versus how you've interpreted it. I'm genuinely grateful to you for bringing your reading of it to my attention, because it's shown me that my words weren't clear enough there!

In these verses from my poem:

"...And now, as then, some may blame Jesus’s death on his own Jewish people — but resist this lie! Now as then the crime is Empire’s and those of us who would cast stones should ponder first what our nations gain from genocide. ..."

You interpret Empire as being Israel.

My intention was that Empire with a capital E is a much larger network of all imperial forces on earth. Israel is entangled in that, and directly backed and funded by those forces. My own country, the United States, is one of the nations at the helm of Empire.

So when I talk of Empire being to blame, I'm not saying just Israel — honestly, I'm personally more concerned with the US's complicity, because I feel as a US citizen I can help demand they stop.

So I'm going to rework that bit to better express what I mean by Empire, so it doesn't sound like I'm focusing only on Israel. Empire is so much bigger than any one state, colony, or government.

...

Okay, I'm out of steam. I'm going to link a few pieces that have been helping me frame all that's going on right now to resist pitting marginalized groups against each other:

This art piece naming "contradicting truths"

This article by Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg also naming seemingly contradictory truths

Since I didn't really get deep into this part of your ask, I also appreciate this article discussing the question of indigeneity. It discards the "need" to figure out "who was there first" in favor of exploring intersecting histories.

Oh also, because you claim that the Israeli government "is Jewish," I think discussions on how Israel isn't actually a safe haven for all Jews, only those that fit into their goals, are vital.

[aiyexayen]

you NEED to tell me all your thoughts and the bts process of Everything You‘re Not Supposed To Do. and i know youre dabbling in a sequel so probably more like tell me Everything that has to do with this verse!!!! i NEED to know!!! the idea of this fic is so unique, i havent seen it anywhere else before! and its ingredients are so precisely and carefully mixed (as all your rarepairs are!) that im astonished its not ,, canon ,,

its such a cool set-up! lqq joining tianchuang, lqq seeking out siji manor years after qin huaizhang teaches her his disguise skills but finding an abandoned estate, han ying going from wariness to desire and affection for lqq! everything thats going on with zzs in the background and that we dont get to see!!!!!!! there are two moments of this AU that are burned into my mind—one is lqq reflecting on her own disappointment at finding what she hoped to maybe become her new home abandoned, the other is zzs realizing he has been outsmarted and giving in to his fate. idk why but these two moments moved me very deeply. the image of lqq taking qhz up on his invitation, but too late. finding only withered grounds, empty houses, dust. and then zzs surrendering to the fact that he has been outsmarted. that his two disciples turned what he taught them against him, that he lost because he, too, is human. the only reason they could outsmart him in the first place being that he let them so close to him, that he underestimated what he means to them, what they are ready to do for him. eugh!!!!! so good!!!

please ramble! i loved reading your thoughts re: The Only Place You Wanna Be! <3

ooouhoohoohooheehee i love this fic (Everything That You're Not Supposed To Do) and thinking about it and talking about it.

starting by dragging a point over from ao3 about having a difficult time believing zhou zishu would go that far in some of the scenes! because i actually had such a fascinating time myself playing with just how far i thought zhou zishu would go. how far would he push liu qianqiao and han ying? how hard would he make them work? as his lovers? as his subordinates? as the sole occupants of the venn diagram where those two circles overlap in such a complicated way. they're so *entangled.*

zhou zishu, of the infamously soft heart. zhou zishu, who knows this about himself and becomes colder and harder to compensate. zhou zishu, who murdered an innocent family down to the servants, down to a little girl he *knew* and cared about. zhou zishu, who drugged his san-shidi to keep him out of the way during that mission--to keep him safe from it--to keep him safe from the worst of tian chuang--to keep him safe from zhou zishu himself.

and i feel like the zishu in this story does a lot to keep both his family and his lovers out of the depths of his business, but while his family/sect he'll do more to protect, he *needs* his lovers to be able to protect themselves.

he'll go harder on them than anyone else because he needs them to be *the best*--no mistakes. no way they can be his weakness and vice versa.

or, at least, that's what liu qianqiao would tell you.

but a very delightful bit of ambiguity i have in this particular fic is pov. we never get zhou zishu's pov. *is* he so ruthless? how many backup plans on backup plans does he have? is he in the shadows after all, waiting to swoop in if they need him? does he retain much awareness and empathy for their humanity? has his own human fallibility projected inhuman standards on them to make himself feel safe, and it simply hasn't backfired yet? is it some jumbled mix of the above?

and! i love that we will never know. that, truthfully, we don't even need to.

anyway! all that was a big part of the bts process, sitting with zishu's character and his headspace in tian chuang, sitting with my pov characters and how i wanted to play with this perspective on it all.

and of course, as always, thinking about liu qianqiao. the idea that a choice that in another au might have been kinder to her than gui gu--to study further under qin huaizhang among the blossoms of siji shanzhuang--ends up merely being complicated in a different way.

something that still requires her to become the best at what she does, rise in the ranks, thrive in danger, make a home only out of the people she can trust.

going to gui gu ought to have her letting go of her obsessions and hurts, but it was never really good at what it wanted to be good at, this concept of second chances missing the mark with its meng po tang, and so it only let her steep in her hurts longer and let her grudges fester. meanwhile this other path both took her further away from the jianghu and required her to actually deal with her shit besides. there was enough of qin huaizhang's legacy, especially in some of the older members of siji shanzhuang that were definitely still around when she joined, to make that true.

i also like to think that in essence liu qianqiao's original choice set her up for more success, too.

in canon, in choosing to become a ghost, she chose to die in a sense, to stop living, but to become a ghost--a permanently frozen echo of the life she had lived up to that point, of the things that killed her.

because humans be human, she went on to still form relationships and find new purpose to an extent. but she didn't necessarily actively expect or want to, and her very identity as a ghost required her to always have the clinging cobwebs of her past laid over everything she did and planned and wanted.

but in choosing to go after qin huaizhang, she was *choosing* to live. she decided that she still had the capacity to be a person, to heal, to find meaning in living. and even if that road took her first to disappointment and then to tian chuang of all places, it still took her somewhere. and she was ready to embrace whatever it was she found.

i have a fondness for canon liu qianqiao and her role as yan gui and her relationship with luo fumeng and xie-wang and her tortuous journey through the weeds with yu qiufeng, trying to sort out and settle these matters that weighed on her too long in her state of self-imposed death.

but i'm also *so* compelled by a liu qianqiao, with all her passion and ambition and cleverness and *care*, who chose to live in that one crucial moment instead. and i just wanted very badly to see her reaction to and influence on a zhou zishu who was rapidly approaching his own choice on that matter.

anyhow! i am indeed working on a sequel to this fic. i haven't fully decided if i want to try another 5+1 things format for it, or if i want to explore zhou zishu's pov as well, or what.

but it will pick up right where the first one leaves off, with all the dramatic fallout of liu qianqiao's plan.

here's hoping it doesn't take too long to actually write 😅

[lumpyorganelle]

The Art Of Happiness - Matthieu Richard

Living on a pendulum between hope and doubt, excitement and boredom, desire and weariness, it's easy to fritter away our lives, bit by bit, without even noticing, running all over the place and getting nowhere.

Happiness is a state of inner fulfilment, not the gratification of inexhaustible desires for outward things.

Thoughts can be our best friends and our worst enemies. When they make us feel that the entire world is against us, every perception, every encounter, and the world's very existence become sources of torment. It is our thoughts themselves that rise up as enemies. They stampede through our mind in droves, each one creating its own little drama of ever-increasing confusion. Nothing is right outside because nothing is right inside.

Recognizing the emotion at the very moment it forms, understanding that it is but a thought, devoid of intrinsic existence, and allowing it to dissipate spontaneously so as to avoid the chain reaction it would normally unleash are all at the heart of Buddhist contemplative practice.

How can we prevent the perpetual re-emergence of disturbing thoughts? If we resign ourselves to being the perpetual victims of our thoughts, we are like dogs who run after every stick thrown for them. Closely identifying with every thought, we follow it and reinforce it with boundless emotional entanglements. We need to take a closer look at mind itself. The first things we notice are the currents of thought that are continuously flowing without our even being aware of them.

Like it or not, countless thoughts born of our sensations, our memories, and our imagination are forever streaming through our mind. But there is also a quality of mind that is always present no matter what kind of thoughts we entertain. That quality is the primary consciousness underlying all thought. It is what re- mains in the rare moment when the mind is at rest, almost motionless, even as it retains its ability to know. That faculty, that simple open presence, is what we may call pure consciousness, because it exists even in the absence of mental constructs.

In pursuing the mind's observation of itself even further, we will find ourselves experiencing this pure consciousness and the thoughts that emerge from it. It does exist. But what else can we say besides that? Do these thoughts have any inherent characteristics? Do they have a particular localization? No. A colour? A shape? Neither. All we find is the quality of knowing, but no intrinsic features of their own. In pure consciousness we experience the mind as empty of inherent existence. This notion of emptiness of thought is undoubtedly very foreign to.

As the canonical Buddhist verse has it: "For the lover, a beautiful woman is an object of desire; for the hermit, a distraction; for the wolf, a good meal." Likewise, if an object were inherently repulsive, everyone would have good reason to avoid it. But it changes everything to recognize that we are merely attributing these qualities to things and people.

There is no intrinsic quality in a beautiful object that makes it beneficial to the mind, and nothing in an ugly object to harm it. In the same way, a person whom we consider today to be an enemy is most certainly somebody else's object of affection, and we may one day forge bonds of friendship with that self- same enemy.

We react as if characteristics were inseparable from the object we assign them to. Thus we distance ourselves from reality and are dragged into the machinery of attraction and repulsion that is kept relentlessly in motion by our mental projections. Our concepts freeze things into artificial entities and we lose our inner freedom, just as water loses its fluidity when it turns to ice.

The most common error is to confuse pleasure for happiness. Pleasure, says the Hindu proverb, "is only the shadow of happiness." It is the direct result of pleasurable sensual, aesthetic, or intellectual stimuli. The fleeting experience of pleasure is dependent upon circumstance, on a specific location or moment in time. It is unstable by nature, and the sensation it evokes soon becomes neutral or even unpleasant.

One day a Tibetan came to see an old wise man whom I happened to be visiting with at the time, at Ghoom near Darjeeling in India. He began by telling him all about his past misfortunes, then went on to list everything he feared for the future. All this time the wise man calmly roasted potatoes in a little brazier on the floor before him. After a while he told his plaintive visitor: "What's the point of worrying about things that no longer exist and things that do not yet exist?"

Nonplussed, the visitor stopped talking and remained silent for quite some time alongside the sage, who occasionally handed him a hot, crusty potato. Inner freedom allows us to savour the lucid simplicity of the present moment, free from the past and emancipated from the future. Freeing ourselves from the intrusion of memories of the past does not mean that we are unable to draw useful lessons from our experience. Freeing ourselves from fear of the future does not make us incapable of approaching it clearly, but saves us from getting bogged down by pointless fretting. Such freedom has aspects of clear-headedness, and joy that allow us to accept things peacefully

thoughts swell into daily tempests that cast a shadow over life by destroying their own joie de vivre and that of the people around them. Yet this knot in our chest was tied not by our unfaithful husband, our object of desire, our dishonest colleague, or our unjust accuser, but by our own mind. It is the result of mental constructs that, as they accumulate and solidify, give the illusion of being external and real.

What provides the raw material for that knot and allows it to form within us is an exacerbated sense of self-importance. Anything that does not respond to the self's demands becomes a disturbance, a threat, or an insult. The past is painful, we are unable to enjoy the present, and we tremble before the projection of our future anguish.

According to Andrew Solomon, "In depression, all that is happening in the present is the anticipation of pain in the future, and the present qua present no longer exists at all." The inability to manage our thoughts proves to be the principal cause of suffering. Learning to tone down the ceaseless racket of disturbing thoughts is a decisive stage on the road to inner peace.

As Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche explains: "These trains of thought and states of mind are constantly changing, like the shapes of clouds in the wind, but we attach great importance to them. An old man watching children at play knows very well that their games are of consequence. He feels neither elated nor upset."

Remember that a thought is only the fleeting conjunction of myriad factors and circumstances. It does not exist by itself. When a thought arises, recognize its empty nature. It will immediately lose its power to elicit the next thought, and the chain of delusion will be broken.

Recognize that emptiness of thoughts and allow your thoughts to rest a moment in the relaxed mind so that the mind's natural clarity remains limpid and unchanged." This is what Buddhism calls liberation from anger at the moment it arises by recognizing its emptiness, its lack of its own existence. This liberation happens spontaneously, like the image I evoked earlier of a sketch drawn on the surface of the water. In so doing, we have not suppressed our anger but neutralized its power to become a cause of suffering.

Our attachment to the ego is fundamentally linked to the suffering we feel and the suffering we inflict on others. Renouncing our fixation on our own intimate image and stripping the ego of all its importance is tantamount to winning incredible inner freedom. It allows us to approach ease, benevolence, every person and every situation with natural fortitude, and serenity. With no expectation of gain and no fear of loss, we are free to give and to receive.

We no longer have the need to think, speak, or act in an affected and selfish way. In clinging to the cramped universe of the ego, we have a tendency to be concerned exclusively with ourselves. The least setback upsets and discourages us. We are obsessed with our success, our failure, our hopes, and our anxieties, and thereby give happiness every opportunity to elude us. The narrow world of the self is like a glass of water into which a handful of salt is thrown the water becomes undrinkable. If, on the other hand, we breach the barriers of the self and the mind becomes a vast lake, that same handful of salt will have no affect on its taste.

[immobiliter]

okay so re: my decision to rework giselle and add her to this blog ( after writing her previously years ago ), some important notes about how i am deviating ( massively ) from canon:

• firstly, i am nixing most things about how her dynamic with jack is presented in canon. they are still probably romantically entangled, i'm sure he probably still pisses her off, but i do eventually want to revisit wedlocked and alter a lot of it to give giselle more agency and to make jack's behaviour less questionable, especially as the auction scene in the ride itself has changed since wedlocked was released so while i love that they filmed the short during the production of awe, it is no longer entangled with the lore of the potc ride as it once was • speaking of giving giselle more agency, at her default point in movie canon she is a tavern bawd, so she co-owns and runs a tavern, earns her own money and looks after other sex workers in her employ. • i am basing a lot of her backstory on sarah wilson, who was a 18th century historical figure who conned and impersonated her way around england through dressing up as fancy ladies and fleecing people for their coin before being transported to the american colonies as a penal servant. she also then went on to impersonate queen charlotte's sister while in virginia, she is a true Icon lmao. giselle doesn't quite go that far with her schemes, but she is a pathological liar, ambitious and her co-conspirator is @reddhaed • this also means that sera / redd is giselle's main romantic partner in any and all verses i make for her ( though they are polyamorous ). jack is not, he is if anything a side piece only lmao. • i've also taken a lot of inspo from the show harlots for this, which is why i've been rewatching and also possibly why i am not in a hurry to actually add any canon character as a muse. but maybe some day 👀👀

[forgaeven1]

GENERAL HIGH FANTASY VERSE *based on httyd setting

berk is a thriving viking village whose main professions are dragon-hunting, among other things.

ruffnut was born ranveig thorstondotter, the older twin sister to tuffnut. they are mainly called by their childhood nickname, which ruffnut prefers anyhow.

ruffnut is hailed from one of the first founding clan which discovered and built berk — they are responsible for scavenging and maintaining the availability of resources across generations — with the twins intending to one day inherit their father’s seat.

though women are held marginally higher in berk than the usual medieval tradition, allowing them to be warriors and upholding positions of power, ruff is still expected to marry as early as fourteen years old, and thus, all expectations of inheritance fell on tuffnut.

this does not deter ruff though, for she loves her brother, and knew that they would carry their family’s name as equal anyhow, even if she were one day to be wed to another.

ruffnut's first betrothed had been to hiccup* at the age of fourteen, on the account that they were the few eligible young people who were available at that time and house hofferson had refused the match between the son of the chief ( hiccup ) to their daughter, astrid, the only other young lady available on berk.

the engagement, of course, fell through — or rather, was never mentioned again, at the wake of hiccup's effort to integrate dragons into the daily lives of berk and his romantic entanglement with astrid later on.*

ruffnut will be one of the few to initially oppose hiccup’s revolutionary mission to bond with dragons, though she and her brother eventually quickly agrees, deeming the challenge to exciting to ignore.

ruffnut and her brother were eventually bonded with a hideous zippleback ( can be conjoined as per in the original franchise or a separate dragon altogether ) — with her own, named lovingly as barf, can breathe a large amount of green gas. this gas tends to confuse and disorient people [ with which the zippleback's other half, tuffnut's belch in this case, can ignite explosives with ], though the thorston twins eventually built a resistance towards the gas.

ruffnut then became apart of the first generation to study, explore, teach, and assist in the integration of dragon within berk, and on dragon's edge. she, alongside tuffnut, quickly rose to become one of the more important members of hiccup's councilmen as he rose as their chief. she will also hold a prominent role in the newly established league of dragon warriors of berk.

how to interact: in an effort to expand their influences and establish berk as a rising and powerful kingdom whose alliances can be useful, ruffnut ( along with others ) were often sent as a representative.

personality: ruffnut could be described as foul-mouthed, crass, mischievous but sharp-witted and far clever than she lets on. she is extremely protective of her brother, her dragon, and her clan, and incredibly proud of the skillset she's acquired regardless of the reputation people usually saddled her with. she will grow to be loyal to hiccup, though she maintains her harsh honesty and confrontational values even with berk's chief.

* indicates that details are not set in stone and can be adapted with respective writing partner(s).

ASOIAF AU * with more details possibly incoming / thanking dorian a ton as i haphazardly shape this au with the grace of a flightless pigeon

a blood of the old valyria, the thorstons was one of the more powerful family of dragonriders. their house sigil are two warhammer slung in the shape of an X, slithered around the hilt is the familiar shapes of a zippleback’s (a type of dragon species) head, with rich green and yellow being their main combination of colour.

during the doom of valyria, magmar thorston, his wife, and a brother, was in asshai conducting a trade. the destruction had led the remaining thorstons to eventually resettle on the hills of norvos, where they eventually establish a small clan in the mountainside.

sometime after the conquest, a hagelin thorston would come to re-establish a connection once more with the remaining descendants of old valyria, that being the targaryens, velaryons, and the celtigars. when the member of the thorston family refuses to kneel to a targaryen nor agree to marry one of their members into the house, the two houses eventually amicably part - though not without hagelin establishing a small seat in the mountains near deep den.

ranveig 'ruffnut' thorston is born in berk, on the mountains of norvos. she is a skilled warrior, a fearsome dragonrider ( the few in her clan who are left ), and a mischievous, but intuitive young lady. at the age of fifteen, ruffnut and her brother chose to leave their village in pursue of accumulating more knowledge to sate their never-ending curiosity.

her dragon is a narrow, long-necked dragon with green-scales of the zippleback species whom of which she named barf. this version of the zippleback is independent-bodied rather than conjoined, though it is always born in set of twos. instead of breathing fire, a zippleback makes explosions. ruff's own breathes a poisonous gas, while tuff ignites it with sparks, eventually producing the explosion it is famous for.

people who have interacted with the thorston twins would often describe them to be blundering and ill-mannered, though both possessing a keen intelligence rarely seen in an average person, let alone a mountain clansmen.

other details can / will be elaborated depending in which timeline ( whether got or hotd ) ruffnut will be thrown in.

[electricbluebutterflies]

Chris/Melissa + “ you're my home. “

Or, deprogramming is not a fun time for aaaaanyone. Usual post-6B 'verse, PG-ish, and also on ao3.

Let go. Begin again.

Having such control over his own life still feels wrong, even several years in. Before, there had always been cultural obligations and traditions, reinforced by a web of connections. Leaving had been unthinkable until it wasn’t, and it still feels like weakness, that later-in-life rebellion that still causes internal conflict. Hunters don’t have midlife crises; the more appropriate response to such tragedy, the one he still occasionally considers, would’ve been to take unnecessary risks and try to die before the improper thoughts led anywhere.

Instead, he decided to live. Instead, he gave himself a whole host of new mundane problems. Instead…

He knows, in the early months of new entanglement, that this could possibly just be a coping mechanism gone horribly wrong. Latch onto the first viable option, perhaps the only viable option there will ever be, and try to re-create everything salvageable from his past. And he knows, if this is accurate self-assessment, that it might be unspeakable cruelty. Melissa does not deserve to be a useful object in someone else’s self-destruction; from the stories he’s heard, indirect comments pieced into answers to questions he will never ask, she’s been through that already. To do that to her again, to become a wound…

She deserves better. May he never lose sight of that.

He tries to self-correct and fails. Never again so much as that entire summer without contact – it takes two people to ruin communication like that, yes, but he will carry most of the blame, he does not have scars like she does – but attempts at little distance, at making sure he doesn’t get proximity enough to do harm. None of it works. She offers space so easily. Who the hell is he to deny her? He is trying to atone for so many mistakes under other circumstances, and he has proven himself decent if not good, and-

It doesn’t help that she sees so much light in him. Others have had to forgive direct action, and he is unsure how much of that he has earned, but he never hurt her. He never… he couldn’t…

“Talk to me,” she says. It is late winter and later in the night than he should be around, but neither of them trusts quiet and taking her to and from work is something they can both justify outside the uncertainty of their dynamic. If that in turn results in him spending enough nights on her couch that she’s stopped offering the spare bedroom upstairs…

His instinct is to respond with worry and self-blame, but he runs through his recent actions towards her and finds nothing likely to offend her enough for confrontation. She is not always as clear as she could be, fine, but they are still new and learning each other and-

“Is everything alright?” That’s neutral enough, right? There are so many other things in her life that could be troubling her, he wouldn’t dare assume her moods could only be because of him or-

“And I thought I was conflict-avoidant,” she sighs. Her eyes are flitting around and her body isn’t quite still; something is wrong, something is-

“You’re not…” Oh, he doesn’t even know what she’s doing. This isn’t where-did-he-fuck-this-up anymore, although that emotion will probably never fade around her; it’s a bigger problem, it has to be, and probably not anything within his ability to fix, not that she’s good at asking for minor help either, at some point before they met that woman went right past resilient into trust issues and-

“Something is going on in your mind,” she says with that perceptiveness that fascinates him sometimes, that used to read as fearlessness before he got to know her better and realized she’s like this with everyone. “You’re not telling me something. And I can’t…”

So, he did do something. That’s strangely reassuring.

He lives with so many internal conflicts – can’t remember a time when his mind was ever quiet, when there wasn’t some kind of war he was usually smart enough to keep hidden – and too many are connecting now, becoming a web that could bury him if he let it, if he-

He could lay them all out for her, say all the things he suspects she’s figured out about what she’s gone and started trying to tether herself to, but he doubts that would actually help either of them. Too much of their dynamic is in the quiet, in the details not directly said to each other but instead indirectly filtered through so many mutual connections. To ruin that, to ruin them…

That’s the problem, maybe. The uncertainty of it all, of not having the slightest clue where they’re headed or what she wants. He’s never had that kind of problem before – he is used to so much more structure, and he suspects he would’ve tried to do the rest of his life alone if she hadn’t happened to him, and-

“I’m unsure… where this goes. You and I.”

She gives him one of those looks, some kind of affectionate frustration, and he can only imagine the odds she’s running in her mind. In a fair world, she’d have much more internal conflict about this than he does, but he can’t imagine-

“Does it need to go anywhere?”

Yes, he wants to say. Yes, because he likes stability and he hasn’t really had any in three years, because he is still used to being led and of course he went and got tangled up with someone who doesn’t have that tendency and-

“Some kind of structure would help me,” and even that sounds wrong, admitting weakness even to a partner, but it is necessary pain and-

“Okay. Structure. I can do that. What do you…”

“You’re my home.” The words fall out too quickly, and they’re wrong, and the idea that he might be discovering at this point in his life that he is somehow something of a romantic is damned horrifying, and… maybe this is the final act of walking away, not just choosing to continue his own life but shaping it around another person, because he was so good at that once and he could be again and-

This is different than that past. It has to be different. It has to be better.

“Oh.”

“I don’t… if you…”

“That’s not… I’m not mad, I just… how do I respond to that?!”

He’s hurt her, it’s all too obvious, and the only response he can think of is to clear the distance between them and hold her, and they’re such a cliché right now, clinging in the middle of her kitchen at something too-close to two in the morning and it’s the most real he’s felt in too long and he’d fall to his knees for her if he thought it’d help and-

“You don’t need to,” he murmurs, turning his head to kiss above her ear. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You regret things too easily,” she replies, and every doubt falls away. “I would say if that was a problem. It isn’t. I just… need time.”

“If I’ve done anything…”

“I’m not scared of you. If you fucked up, you’d know.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

She takes kisses to make sure he doesn’t get for quite a long time.

He… could be okay with this.

Somewhere in the blur of anniversaries that will haunt him over the next few weeks, something made him decide to live. It’s been three years. Time to do something with that beyond just survival and latching onto anything that will tolerate him.

Time to make this into a life.

Maybe, just maybe, start with her and go from there.

[cosmicangel888]

GUIDES, HIGHER SELVES ~ 5D AND BEYOND

Let's be very logical and clear about ascension and who you are, and who you are connected with and why.....

Every person on this planet, regardless and all is shifting due to ascension, soul contracts shifting, planning for new dimensional projects, and ascension expansions that are now on the fast track.....evolution is everything 5D and beyond,

All of your guides, your teams, your guidance operates from the Universal Laws of Order Every dimension there is a cascading affect, and why you have guides, the guides will switch and change for they require growth, and various gifts, skills, talents from your guides to help you expand, inspire you, and so on;

Your guides being directly more linked to Source, God, as their dimension is less matter/physical they have access, knowing, benevolence for you and guide you in this way -

Therefore, when you seek guidance, from here on out - be very discerning who, what, how, where you get your wisdoms and guidance -

If you go to any person in which their life is in shambles, off course, in legal trouble, with deceit and spell work to manipulate and control, and paying off people to silence; would these people, even if they call themselves important, or a badge with title, or pastor or preacher -

would you take guidance from someone that is not connected in any way to their highest spirit ????????

Any guide, team, healer, of yours, would never ever ever ever ever GUIDE YOU TO HARM, HURT, TAKE, THIEVE AND STEAL FROM ANY - FOR IT IS NOT ALIGNED WITH YOUR HIGHER SELF, GUIDES WHICH ARE YOU, CASCADING ACTIONS WOULD AFFECT THEM - ALL IS ONE * Any spiritualist that does spells to affect another and interfere with another that is not healing - ie mother for a child and so on ~ if there is no permission, and the person is not there in the appointment giving sound mind, body permissions; these people are not aligned with their higher self - 

* Every session, appointment, tune in, align, seek higher soul ascension guidance - every client is connected to galactic teams, universal multi-verse programs of evolution - and guidance is key to their higher and best, the all higher and best -

'''''''' WHAT PART SHALL I PLAY IN THIS TRANSACTION '''''''''''''''''''  HEED THE GUIDANCE OF SPIRIT -

5D - as a heeler, you may be asked to offer a light of love, honour, and send them away, you may be asked to simply ask them questions to redirect them within, you may be asked to offer an herb, or colour that will activate something in them that catalyzes something profound - you have no idea how spirit works, how God is threaded with any person and what level of consciousness awakening they are at and what realm of activity of DNA and integration they sit - 

* every person is at a unique stage, phase of wholeness integration - why they are before you - ask, seek, then respond - and one cannot do so if they are not aligned - nor care to be aligned - then the only information, wisdoms they can offer is lower vibrational.

all companies, be it Youtube, and any other social platforms - all involved in the discriminatory actions of shadow banning, and veiling true pure teachers - all are being called judgment to level up

#healingdiscrimination #youtubediscrimination

We are given progression attainment, alignments, and DNA activations, classes with those that know such, aligned with such, that honour the progressions of dimensional threading, bedding - how it is harmonized within the all - unity, oneness, we have to test ourselves, practice over and over what it means to be in purity of will within - your will of your own higher path is everything - and why you are tested with whatever temptation you are here to transcend -

all will be tested mentally, emotionally, physically, spiritually - this is for a grand reason; what part will you play in creational realities - all have specific soul lessons - all have themes they are here to in their own unique way, re-entangle, engage with spirit, Source, God - and how to heal, transcend and play in new vibrational realms

---- your higher self, soul teams, are linked with all creation - for healers, teachers, you will be linked with Systems of Light, for we are at a very highly progressive state of evolution on our planet - and all are threaded to new and vast ways, shifting to 3D programs to further soul growth on lessons of density and lack, or shifting to higher frequencies of 5D potentials - ©

all are offered various wisdoms based on where they are at, what they have worked on, and what activations they require is between their higher self, and your highest self, and all collectives and councils, groups they work with -

* 5D Leadership - all leaders now are being shown, asked, and even pushed out - for they simply do not have higher and best, and no care or concern for any other - the bank roll, and deep pockets and sick programs to keep humanity numb and dumb will be moved - this is simply the laws of magnetics - this is new earth - move or be moved - this is judgement and karma in action and truth -

5D - vibration and consciousness is everything - watch your life and outer unfold - it is showing you what is aligned and what is not - unity, oneness, love, compassion, forgiveness -

5D --> this is the new template - all will converge around this 5D earth * every spiritualist and reader, healer, teacher will be asked to level up and align on every appointment that you offer responsibility for the higher and best, benevolence for the greater good - you have to know how every soul is threaded and the wisdoms, guidance you give is not only connected to the person before you but all generations - and galaxies - most 90% of those online, even with diploma's have no idea about 'cascading Oneness' and how any level of advice should be given, offered, received with discernment - tune in

* if any person does not align with their higher self before every meeting, reading, and does not care about who, what energy they tap into - they are not aligned, not healed, and not offering higher and best, benevolence and if someone operates of lower energy and lack of care, alignment, they will be tapping into lower vibrational ethereal energies - entities of attachment, and so on - so be discerning -

Your guides AND THE HIGHER ENERGIES WITH YOUR HIGHEST SELF, WOULD NEVER EVER EVER EVER GUIDE YOU TO DESTROY, HURT, TAKE, BRING PAIN, SUFFERING, SUBJUGATION, LIMIT, OR IMPALE ANY PERSON ~ IN ANY WAY;

Spell work to block, interfere in any way is not a leadership attribute for any unity, 5D healer, vocation, leader work - that is why you have to go through eons of practice, preparation, honouring of all life - energy is energy and very sacred - those that do not work with energy in any way of this vibration of oneness, sacred, then I would move on to a vibrationally aligned - tune in - what feels in alignment of the greatest good;

SPELL, ACTION, BEHAVIOUR ---> PERIOD! ALL MUST TRULY 'GET' ALIGNMENT AND tune into the intentions, motives, and agenda's of those before you offering 'truth' it is from their consciousness level, not channelled (most often) and not aligned to the higher order - all aspects of our creational social systems will be re-written to have all that are for the people be aligned with and of and for the people - for it has historically be for the boards owning its word and rules - not the people

All is changing I am still here, this is my word,

Time for humanity to arise in this celebration - you are all needed to bring humanity to creative and miraculous heights - hope, love, promise and unity is our destiny - anyone speaking of any other energy is not aligned -

The culling out, waking up, is that what is not working, bring it forth, and heal it - heal the corruption and inner = does equal outer - no mistaking it now - and all will see their own life as proof -

Never allow any person to direct you in your life passion, expression, or gifting - you will have guides such as myself or offer higher vibrational channelled teachings, but you are meant to always use your inner direction -

If anyone feels uplifting, empowered and inner power promoting, then they are on board with sovereignty and the laws of creation If anyone you deal with, speak to, in your own life - pay attention, co-relation - these laws are always in effect and immediate karma - it is not being seen, known;

If you have your guides and teams offering you energy, reminders, dreams, and obsessions of any person, any direction, or skills or thing they are making you pay attention to, it is due to you not previously heeding their guidance -

* guides, ancestors will continue the pressure until you make right, your bring balance, and heed the laws that are key for all evolution - anyone you have not honoured their free will, in any way, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually - all have to make right and balance and alchemize their karma - none will be missed and none get to skip over simply because they think they have a title or money - this means nothing to spiritual laws -

* if someone offers you their wishes, will, then respect it and carry on - stay in your own lane and focus within -

life can be this simple and when you 'get this' you begin to see how the entire Universe works with you - not throwing you blocks and hurdles and spells to show you what you have been doing to others, and yourself - life is meant to flow, glow, grow - period -

and if your health, life is not this way - then sort it out - heal.

Our new 'berry-fun' video

None have say or authority over you - none - so be this knowing.....

KNOW THYSELF

* #1 - Law of One, Right Use of Free Will and Non-Interference

* #2 - Law of Balance (if the first is applied, the law #2 is simply natural and flowing)

Ascension Books, Healing Systems, 5D human-socio-altruistic re-write ~

DONATIONS - see our

PayPal link here; paypal.me/JoannaLRoss

* JoannaCosmicAngel@yahoo.com

And so be it

Joanna

#ascension

This is my word

[existentialmagazine]

Review: The indie-pop duo 7000apart have released their newest single ‘White Noise’, a groovy tune with a message that yearns to live life

With their upcoming crowdfunded, sophomore album ‘Feel Your Feelings’, the duo and couple 7000apart have jumped from strength to strength since first stepping foot onto the music scene. Inspired by indie acts like Fickle Friends and Claire Rosinkranz, their familiar tones make every song a warm and comforting sonic endeavour, whilst clean harmonies, distinct bass and continually gorgeous lyricism sets them apart as a pairing to watch. Now releasing their newest single ‘White Noise’, 7000apart have set the stage for what to expect from their album, and it’s beyond exceptional.

Groovy right from setting off, ‘White Noise’ stumbles through a bright audio palette you’ll find immediately sweeping you off your feet and onto the dancefloor, wrapped between the enchanting indie-pop styles that 7000apart boast. From a clattering beat to a deep, funky bassline entangled in the more minimal opening of the first verse, the song carries itself with an air of uplifting energy that’s guaranteed to put you in a better mood than you were before pressing play. Things swiftly pick up further though, emphatically lifted by a vibrant electric guitar riff that leads right into one hell of a striking chorus that’s more than ready to get hooked in your head. As the beats settle to more of a steady thumping, you’ll instantly find yourself swaying along while the continued dominant bassline and vivid electric guitar intertwine for an addictively rhythmic performance, all the while synth pops litter the undertones. The duo’s female vocalist takes the lead through ‘White Noise’, delivering a confident and self-assured narrative in an impressively agile higher range, soaring through gorgeous highs with an ease. Her partner adds a deeper complementary tone throughout though, adding backing vocals for many of her lines in a subtle, subdued approach that doesn’t overshadow but adds yet another layer to the soundscape of ‘White Noise’ that you can’t help but be completely enthralled by.

With an enchantingly flowing sound, it’s perhaps a pleasant surprise that 7000apart have penned an equally meaningful message amidst their easy-going tones. Written during the heights of the pandemic and the enforced lockdowns, ‘White Noise’ finds itself singing of a desperation to return to a normal life once again but being physically stuck between their four walls and mentally locked in their heads. As the chorus sings ‘life is white noise, I wish I had a choice’, 7000apart make it clear that their reality has become a lifeless flickering of the same scenes, wanting more from it but restricted to living out the same days over and over. Continuing in lyrics like ‘living in a blur, feels like a different world’ , the duo speak of how living seems to have lost its spark, with everything turning into a ‘blur’ that they’ve more just surviving through than really experiencing. As the feeling of ‘home’ becomes dampened and no longer feels a warm space to return to when you’re there every moment of every day, lines like ‘home’s got a different meaning, home’s got a different feeling and we can’t get away’ exhibit the longing to be truly anywhere else. Though unintended, ‘White Noise’ will perhaps be an all-too relatable release for those also struggling through mental health lows, finding connotations from the pair’s inabilities to go out and yearning to be able to live a life of colour once again. All in all, ‘White Noise’ is sure to be a hard-hitting release for most, but with things mostly re-opened to normality it’s a much easier pill to swallow looking back than being stuck amidst it.

Check out ‘White Noise’ here to enjoy 7000apart’s poignant lyricism and danceable soundscape!

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[talesofloreandlegend]

The Rhymer's Tale

SERIES · I EPISODE ·I

Storyteller: Rick Scott Host: Sebastian Odell

Now I’ll tell you a tale of a Britain that is almost gone; a Britain of stone circles, and barrow hills, of giant’s graves and fairy rings. The Britain of the Beltane fires, the greenwood, the enchanted isle. The Britain of the sidhe; the fae; The Hidden People; the people of the barrows; the lordly ones; the good people; the woodkind; the fair folk; the story folk. Of grimms, boggarts, bogles and imps, of goblins and pucks, dwarfs and brownies and bugbears, the elf-kin, and the erl king...

The story of Thomas the Rhymer is derived from a legendary figure of the thirteenth century, whose story is recorded in a fifteenth century medieval verse poem and a series of folk ballads first collected and published in the nineteenth century. ​

Sir Thomas of Erceldoune – modern day Earlston in Berwickshire, on the Scottish border with Northumberland – is recorded in medieval charters from the thirteenth century which mention his name as ‘Thome Rymour de Ercildoun’. There are five medieval manuscripts containing the romance poem about his encounter with the Elf Queen in full or in fragments. The popular ballad of True Thomas tells the same story, and is listed as number 37 in the Child Ballads collection. There are many versions, the first of which were collected and published in the early 1800s. Additional stories and folklore about Thomas can be found in accounts of Scots historians, including various prophetic verses attributed to him and said to have been proven true by future events.

The story is set around the Eildon Hills in Melrose, Berwickshire, which has been occupied since the Bronze Age and was the site of a Roman hill fort in the first century AD. Archaeological evidence suggests the site may have been considered holy since prehistoric times, and the legend of True Thomas is intimately associated with beliefs that Eildon was a ‘hollow hill’ and possible entrance to the faery world. It is also associated with another figure prominent in Scots folklore, the medieval scholar and reputed magician Michael Scot, who was said to have used his magic to cleft the peak into three pieces.

Our own version of this tale is derived from readings of the romance poem, different versions of the ballad, and later versions presented by folklorists which translated the poem, the ballad and other fragments of folklore about Thomas into a prose story.

Our tale also uses the device of cante fable, the practise of ocassionally interjecting verse into the narrative. Our cante fable verses have been adapted from the poem and the ballads and re-worked to fit into our interpretation of Thomas’ journey. For this series of Lore & Legend, the ballad verses play a key roll as a framing device, a larger tale which functions as a container or a chorus for the other stories in this series. As Thomas follows the Queen into Elf land, she relates to him tales about others who have become entangled with the Other world and it’s denizens. Our verses are largely drawn from or inspired by this edition of the romance poem, and versions of the True Thomas ballad as collected by Frances James Child, interpreted by Walter Scot, and sung by Andrew Calhoun among others.

The identification of the mystical tree on Eildon Hill as an Elder tree (rather than the more common idea that it was a Hawthorne) and the mention of elderberry wine is inspired by commentary on an article on the subject by historian Lee Ray, as is our portrayal of Thomas as something of a drunk and vagabond before his encounter with the Elf Queen.

SOURCE MATERIAL

Medieval Romance Thomas, the Rhymer, 1220?-1297?; Murray, James Augustus Henry, Sir, 1837-1915 The romance and prophecies of Thomas of Erceldoune : printed from five manuscripts, with illustrations from the prophetic literature of the 15th and 16th centuries, Published 1875

Songs & Ballads

“Thomas Rymer, no. 37”, Child’s Collected Ballads by Francis James Child

“Thomas the Rhymer and the Queen of Elfland” in Jamieson, Robert, 1780?-1844, Popular ballads and songs, from tradition, manuscripts, and scarce editions; with translations of similar pieces from the ancient Danish language, and a few originals by the editor, Volume 2, Published 1806

“Thomas the Rhymer” in Scott, Walter, Sir, 1771-1832, Minstrelsy of the Scottish border; consisting of historical and romantic ballads, Volume 2, Published 1802

“Thomas the Rhymer/True Thomas” on Mainly Norfolk: English Folk and Other Good Music

Research Sources

“Thomas the Rhymer.” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. 30 May. 2019. Web. 28 Jun. 2019.

“Eildon Hill.” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. 22 Mar. 2019. Web. 28 Jun. 2019.

“Erceldoune, Thomas of” by Henry Richard Tedder, Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900, Volume 17 Lee Raye, “The Eildon Tree in ‘The Romance of Thomas of Erceldoune’ (Thomas the Rhymer)”, Natural History Blog, Wordpress, Posted on May 18, 2014 “Thomas the Rhymer, Melrose” on The Fiary Folklorist, Posted Tuesday, 14 June 2011 ​

[ladylike-foxes]

Compass, wardrobe, lightning for any of your ocs! - @my-da-phase

@my-da-phase Thank you, sweetie!! Some awkward emotional development a la (Re)Entangled for @dadrunkwriting ❤️❤️❤️

They had been told to expect another storm, but they hadn’t anticipated it so soon. With a shared shrug and a comment about lunch, they quickly threw their tent together and huddled in. Unfortunately, they didn’t manage to beat the rain, both looking up at once to see the other dripping wet.

“Damnit. At least these clothes don’t qualify as dirty, I guess,” Halesta dropped her rucksack, digging through the first few layers to find a dry change, “I hope Bissett was right about where this road heads.”

“Oh, is that the excuse we are using?” Solas was standing with arms folded and cocked brow when she straightened.

“You’ve already gotten to see me change once today. Turn around,” She gestured and he obeyed, but not before she caught the snarky remark on the tip of his tongue, “No more free shows for you.”

“Fair enough,” The familiar sound of his chuckle mingled with the shushing of his removing his sweater and steady rain.

“You know, you really ought to stop wearing your Apostate Hobo costume,” Laughing instead of allowing herself the soft inhale at the sight of his bare, broad back.

“Costume? Pray tell, why is that?” Smirking over his shoulder like a bastard.

“Multiple reasons. For one, it makes you a bit conspicuous, travelling with the ex-Inquisitor in your old clothes,” She was checking her nails, she was not ogling him in her periphery, “Second, it’ll ruin them for you if Falon recognizes you in them.”

“Hm. True,” Pulling a fitted, mustard-colored shirt over his head as he turned, looking thoughtful as he began to roll up the sleeves.

She took a seat and began unpacking their rations, pausing briefly to cradle her head. Though he hadn’t appeared to be paying her any attention, he retrieved their medicinal tonics and herbs, producing a strip of willow bark.

“Chew.”

“I’m having déjà vu,” Laughing, she stuck the long strip of wood in her teeth, “Something Fel said once, I think? No, maybe it was Laleal. She takes after him so much sometimes.”

“It does sounds like Felassan. He has incorrectly identified a tree or two,” Solas hummed amusedly through tight lips, watching as Halesta’s hands moved over their food.

“Sandwich?” She watched his expression change from bittersweet to curious, she smiled despite herself.

The tent flap was loose, and they watched the rain come down in buckets as she prepared their meal. She thought about how familiar everything felt, like they were right back in the early days of the Inquisition….

“Can I ask you something that’s certain to be uncomfortable?”

“I suppose so,” He took the sandwich she offered, eyeing her with theatrical apprehension.

She took a deep breath and attempted to steele herself, swallowing that nervous giggle bubbling up. This was a genuine point of curiosity for her, and if she couldn’t behave seriously, why should he take it seriously?

“Why…” Fighting her hesitation, her fear of disappointment, “Why did you fall for me? I mean, what was it about me that you loved?”

His chewing slowed as he considered (or realized) the question. His gaze moved outside, to the falling rain. When several moments and a clap of thunder passed, she began to tell him nevermind it, but he finally spoke.

“You once accused me of only valuing you because you wielded the Anchor. Initially, I believe there was some truth to that. I believe I underestimated you— that is, everyone—so such a degree, that anyone should be capable of surviving the intensity and immensity of my magic seemed impossible. I was, again, so very vain and superior. Yet, that is merely the reason I first stayed with you and the Inquisition.”

He took another small bite, and she mirrored him, chewing his words with her food, allowing him time to continue without attacking him. Despite the soreness of his honesty, there was a sense of vindication, too.

“The way your mind works, the way you always keep trying, regardless of how little you have left to give. The immediacy with which you accepted the responsibility of the Breach, the threat of Corypheus, the fate of all of those lives. How seriously you took that responsibility, though you had not asked for it and did not want it. Your fire,  and how it drives you relentlessly. Your compassion, even in the face of betrayal and disgust.”

She was watching her hands intently. Picking at her cuticles like her focus on them was all that held the world together. Maybe it was, the thought passed.

“I’m surprised. I thought it would be more about my mortality,” The single laugh pressed through her teeth was tense, tight, “The fragile and fleeting nature of my life.”

“It certainly plays into it,” His tone was begrudging, embarrassed; she didn’t look up at him, “It is the nature of all love, no? It is impossible to truly value something that is truly deathless, indestructible.”

“I lo—I loved you,” Meeting his sea-storm gaze, “Even knowing what you were, and what you weren’t.”

He didn’t blink for a long moment, “That is true. Perhaps…I was wrong. About that part.”

“Perhaps,” She smiled apologetically, looking away again as lightning flashed around their tent, “I hope so, anyway.”

[stiltonbasket]

I'm sure by now you've received more than enough "chinese cultures don't reuse names" notes re: XXC and SL reincarnations in TMAAF-verse, so I'm going to ask instead because I'm curious: if you WERE to give them totally different names and/or courtesy names, what do you think you would choose for them?

I wouldn't choose different names for either of them, since their names are already different!

Ouyang Xingchen shares no characters with Xiao Xingchen's name; it might look the same to western readers, but it’s pronounced differently. OYXC’s Xingchen is written as 兴谌 (eagerness and sincerity), instead of 星尘 (star+dust/wordly entanglements).

Zizhen picked it because baby Xingchen wanted to take part in everything his parents did. His birth name is Ouyang Ye (椰) with the ye for the coconut palm tree.

Re: Yao Lan, his lan means blue; Song Lan’s name (岚) means mist. His courtesy name is 字沉 (common courtesy prefix + heavy/profound), as opposed to Song Zichen’s 子琛.

[spade-riddles]

Tea 🍵 Time Responses

Tea Time! There's something in the bridge of Coney ISLAnd you all are missing!

🍵

Coney Island 🎤

_____________________

rainbowdaisy13 said:

Ok look into Isla Grant. She’s a Scottish folk singer and a lot of her song titles are like woah. “Daisy for Mama, You’re the Best Friend, Partners in Rhyme, Keeper of my Heart, Out of the Blue”

Could be a weird coincidence

lov4-kaylor said:

Maybe Something to do with the Gold Clock??? We just recently saw the Gold Clock in the Fearless De-Coding post from T. Maybe we still need to de-code something further with the Gold Clock. The word scramble was too easy for Ts style anyway!

a-swift-folklore said:

Why write it like IS-LAnd? My first thought was "Is LA"

sherryd23 said:

Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey.. a universe away...

Anonymous said:

Isla is a Scottish feminine given name, and it just so happens to be pronounced EYE-la 🧐

Anonymous said:

ISLA / isn't there a famous treeline in LA? it's been in a lot of movies. bonus :drake's party was in LA

asteracaea said:

the only isla i know of is fischer...

cyberpunk89 said:

maybe it’s “name” in “when I walked up to the podium, I think that I forgot to say your NAME” and tea time anon made it Coney ISLAnd, so… ISLA the name? Still not sure, it’s too simple.

UPD: well. Taylor sings “ [your] name” on 3:19 and it’s 3+1+9=13. I hate these “13″ references even if it’s coincedence.

Anonymous said:

It's probably obvious, but the Trump family bought up huge swathes of Coney Island in the 60s and got entangled in legal actions over what to do with it. Locals were trying to revitalize the area but Trump Sr wanted to forget the fairground amenities and build more profitable apartments instead. I don't remember all the details but I think they took him on and he won. The setting adds a layer of sad irony to Taylor singing about losing the good times after the election.

Anonymous said:

re: tea time/ full disclosure i'm terrible with riddles but if you google gold clock nyc the most prominent that comes up is on fifth avenue (the 666 kushner bullding is also on fifth avenue). it's not much but i hope we can solve this

Anonymous said:

ISLA-Lisa baby name?

Anonymous said:

Okay the Coney Island bridge makes mention of a birthday and TT! anon hid the name Isla in their message! Could Isla be the name of the Kaylor child?

Anonymous said:

ISLA Blair, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.

lov4-kaylor said:

Could it be the babies name??? Ben??? Silly me that's the cat's name...

Anonymous said:

"When I walked up to the podium I think that I forgot to say your name " well she certainly did not forget to say Joe's name, so whose name could she possibly have forgot? 🤔😆

Anonymous said:

Anonymous said:

Well it could be Isla, as in the name, that's why it was capitalized. But if it was that simple why specifically direct us to the bridge? Food for thought: the bridge of the song has 11 verses/lines (according to google) and Coney Island has 11 letters. So maybe we should focus on the capitalized ones, which are 6-9? So on this part: "Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray / A universe away /And when I got into the accident / The sight that flashed before me was your face".

Anonymous said:

just dropping observations about the coney island bridge, maybe someone else can run with them

Isla is a (Spanish) girls name, that means island

when taylor sings your name in the bridge it sounds like someone is singing in the background/ there is an echo

the only other time this is the case is during the first three lines of the bridge specifically

your name is said exactly from 3:17 (11) to 3:19 (13)

one connection I made was to Taylor mentioning three kids on the last 'podium' where she thanked people. this seemed strange to everyone and feels like it was a placeholder for a name she 'forgot'/ couldn't say

@chosetherose said:

Ooo thanks TT!

First thoughts:

Isla is a popular baby girls name. Is this kaylor’s daughter’s name?

I need to listen to Coney Island again and think things through.

redpaintedgolden said:

i feel like it’s about

Were you waiting at our old spot

In the tree line

By the gold clock

the other lines are kinds self explanatory. and we know abot the birthday cake

Anonymous said:

Re TT Coney ISLAnd, the only thing that has been in my mind since the Grammys is the bit

And When I walked up to the podium

I think I forgot to say your name

Over and over..

So, the baby in Coney Island isn’t the same person that was named in the Grammys speech (obvious, yes)

But what’s really been haunting me about this song is the lyric “when the sun goes down”.. and coincidentally a certain embodiment of the sun or literal sunshine ☀️ went down (in the dark/out of the spotlight) around the same time evermore was released.

swift-79 said:

So I have a little time before a meeting so let see. London has a ferris wheel like a coney island. The London Eye. Lyric:"we're you waiting at our old spot. In the tree line by the gold clock".🤔🤔 So if it is about Joe why is someone waiting in secret! 😉😎🌈 So old golden clock maybe the Big Ben in London. Does it have tree lines?

Yes it does than next lyric:

"Did I leave you hanging every single day?"🤔

Another meaning for hanging can be "floating" She used that word not so long ago. 🤔🤔🤔

Lyric: "where you standing in the hallway with a big cake, happy birthday"

Now about the cake in the hallway we know that KK who left a Victoria Secret photo shooting to be at Taylor b-day or it about the cake in Miss Americana🤔

Don't have more time to decipher maybe this can be a start for another person to continue. I don't know if I am on the right path either. Good luck!!!! 😉😎🌈

kellykaylor said:

When I first saw ISLA in capital letters, i was thinking about the International Securities Lending Association, a trade association. But I dont think thats the part we missed.

So for all the NYC people out here: is there a physical bridge which u can take to coney island? maybe tea time anon was referring to an actual 🌉? swift-79 said:

Hmm Great Britain is an Island in the North Atlantic Ocean! 😉😎🌈

Anonymous said:

re: teatime anon, if the C in Coney ISLAnd is capitalized, perhaps the I would normally be capitalized as well, meaning the change would be the capitalization of SLA.

i don’t have much either than that but, SLA is an acronym for “Service Level Agreement” —which isn’t really a term in the entertainment world i don’t think but one example definition i found is “a guarantee of performance in a contract, with penalties for not hitting the published elements. For example, a customer might have a guaranteed 4 hour response window to equipment issues, or a guarantee on spare part arrival of 24 hours or less.”

[a-real-chicxulub-vibe]

since the dark souls timeline is all split to hell, do all the timelines re-converge after linking the fire or do they just stay split apart, and millions of versions of everything exists in some kind of Into The Spider-Verse entangled mess

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

                                          time, wondrous time

                                           elain & azriel & lucien  //   ao3

Time, curious time

Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Were there clues I didn't see?

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

Bright sunlight wakes Elain up, relentlessly tapping on her closed eyelids until she groans softly; making her clammy skin sizzle. She cannot escape from it, not sandwiched naked between two bodies the way she is. Flushed all-over, not an inch of her untouched; her cheek pressed to one male’s back, her legs tangled up with another’s. Some minuscule human part of her left weeping in shame, quietly, somewhere too deep inside her to bother with it.

Instead of hiding underneath thin sheets, she spits out a strand of hair stuck to her lower lip and begins grounding herself. It’s a slow, meticulous process, boring and alike to fishing out pebbles of a certain shade from a riverbed full of all kinds of rocks – but then, Elain’s well versed in it for now. Last night’s memories are a bit brighter, a bit more solid than all of the other images blooming in her head. There is laughter and auburn wine, the taste of it on her tongue, pomegranate juice dripping down her neck until it was licked off. Sand-colored marble kissing the bare soles of her feet when she was running through the corridors. Sheer silk swishing around her calves.  Sweet ache coiling deep in her belly, between her slick thighs, the release hard enough to leave her feeling breathless, almost empty. There’s snow falling in the Steppes,  chubby cheeks and round, silver-blue eyes of her mother-

Which don’t belong to yesterday, nor to any of the yesterdays before. Elain indulges herself though; let’s happiness and adoration fill her to the brim when she stays with this image for a bit longer. Those tiny fingers locked around a lock of her sister’s hair, Nesta’s cooing, a lullaby falling from her lips soft like a caress…  It’s too nice, too delicious to not melt into this vision.  

But then - a rough hand slides up her thigh, fingers tracing the arch of her hipbone. Quiet laughter echoes when she trembles in response.

The future bursts like a soap bubble in the air and Elain falls painfully into here and now. She bares her throat to rest the back of her head on Azriel’s chest, smiling brightly with her eyes still firmly closed when he presses a kiss underneath her jaw.

‘’Good morning, Elain.’’ He whispers.

Before she can reply, a familiar warmth spills deep inside her belly – happiness and annoyance and pleasure mixed up in equal measure – and Lucien huffs, his voice muffled by the pillow:

‘’Why do you always have to wake up so early?’’

It’s the sun. – Elain wants to say, want to sing-song into his ear until he fully awakens.- It’s the sun and you are the one responsible for it.

But she’s too content, too comfy – so he blindly moves her hand from Lucien’s waist to his back, traces loopy I love you-s on the bare skin with her fingertips as the bond inside her purrs like a cat in response. She can feel the silky strands of his hair brushing her knuckles and, for the thousandth time, she vows she’ll never let him cut them.

‘’Good morning.’’ She lets out an exhale. ‘’The sun’s telling you to rise and shine, my lord.’’

Azriel’s near-soundless laugh makes the bed shake a bit. It’s her favorite sound in the world – as beautiful as her future nephew’s shrieks of joy, as beautiful as Nesta’s singing voice.

As beautiful as Lucien’s fond, irritated groan.

‘’You two will pay me back for it, you know.’’

Oh, she knows.

Lips and hands and cocks and wings and starlight underneath her eyelids; and moans and names and curses; in the daylight, in the moonlight; on the soft grass in her personal garden, bees buzzing around them as they make love, her knees scraped raw, teeth-marks on her neck, finger-shaped bruises on her thighs.

Before now – before them, she didn’t know it’s even possible to feel such ecstasy, that sex can be like this. She doesn’t know how she was managing to live without it, how she did not crave this connection as one craves air every second, every heartbeat of her life.

‘’Is that a threat or promise, oh mighty High Lord?’’ Azriel snickers and Elain hides her face in Lucien’s hair to suppress her giggle. ‘’Be careful not to bite more than you can chew.’’

‘’I think we all know I can chew plenty.’’ Lucien shoots back, unflinchingly. Just enough bite in his tone that she squeezes her thighs together, that she feels Azriel’s hand climbing up the ladder of her ribs to brush her breast.

‘’Shush, both of you.’’ She whispers. ‘’It’s too early for that.’’

She can almost feel Lucien’s grin on her own lips.

‘’It’s never too  early for that.’’

Like a cat waking up from a nap on a sunny afternoon, Elain slowly stretches her body- brushing, caressing, electing hisses and groans left and right in process, her bones and muscles re-forming from their half-molten state when she yawns.

And then she opens her eyes.

Lucien has turned to lay flat on his back, smiling at her in the light of the morning. There are pillow creases pressed on his cheek and she almost manages to reach out and touch them before Azriel throws his arms across her torso and beats her to it.

Darling, terrible Azriel, all the impossible contradictions of him. All brutality and goodness, quiet agony, dark humor.  How delicately his hand caresses  Lucien’s cheek.  How delicately he touches her, every time, until she tells him not to – as if she was something holy and precious, and worth living for.

Life’s – life’s just this, being tangled up, tied into a knot with her mate and her beloved, her glorious, gorgeous, grand lovers keeping her tethered, keeping her safe. Not for the first time, Elain feels a quiet glee at this thought – oh, let her sisters’ keep their mates and their great love stories full of heartbreak and pain, and impossible choices. Elain refused to go down this road. Elain refused impossible choices.

Elain, for the first time in her life, took a stand for something, refused to let the tide of fate to carry her from one place to another as if she was a petal on the wind.

And Elain is adored.

And Elain adores in return.

She wants to melt in-between them, slither underneath their ribs, bind them together for all eternity. Time is a river and she has long ago stopped drowning – now she’s swimming like a fish, no longer gasping for air, no longer cold and lost. The Cauldron’s power hums in her, this horrifyingly ancient beast Nesta has conquered and Elain has tamed: you’ll go first, you’ll go first into this ageless dark, sweet doe.

And how exactly does it matter?

Lucien turns his face slightly to press his lips to the inside of Azriel’s hand. His own hand grips her waist to press her closer, closer; the three of them, hips pressing together, legs entangling, until their heartbeats sound like one perfect harmony in her ears.

How does it matter, when they will have each other even when I’m gone?

Her human life, brief and long evaporated like a puff of an exhale on a frost morning.

The centuries of love she got in exchange.

Feyre,  her little sister always so nosy beyond measure, burning in curiosity when she asks, time and time again, how does it even work, as if the three of them sat down around the business table the way Nesta sits with foreign traders to discuss terms and conditions; Mor biting the inside of her cheek not to laugh whenever Elain just shrugs in response. It’s not strange for her, loving them both, sharing and being shared. She has always had too much love inside her anyway, too much to know how to use it properly – wasting it on undeserving human men and pretty, petty things, this love without a purpose that she has now. Enough love for both of the best men she has ever met, both of them always so hungry for love, starved for it.

Elain has shed her humanity and all her human inhibitions the way silk dress slides to the marble floor, exposing skin and flesh begging to be touched – kept them on her and then got rid of them all at once, instantaneously.

Future rushes through her mind like a waterfall, all the good things: roses blooming, stars falling, Feyre’s rounded belly and her son’s first word, Lucien’s hungry gaze, Cassian’s deep laughter and Nesta’s silver one, rows and endless rows of books in the thousand libraries all toppled over, Azriel sleeping peacefully by her side-

Elain rests her head on Lucien’s shoulder and tangles her fingers in Azriel’s hair when he hides his face in the crook of her neck. The Day Court keeps them warm and safe when they drift back into dreams.

Oh, how truly blessed she is.  

[cartsandrafts]

Dossier Annotation

CArts and rafts (or Arts and Crafts) is a dossier of artworks serving, to various degrees, as influences within my practice. With a sprinkling of general inspiration, like music and film, amongst it. These influences can be broken into five main themes; figuration, abstraction, materiality, symbol/symbolic, and text. Despite their separation, they are all intrinsically linked; overlaid in various degrees of contrast or correlation.

These titles place my collection of visual references into key layman’s terms that could just as easily be expanded into more categories incorporating a number of others. These include many of the themes discussed throughout the semester in Critical Frameworks. Such as indexes, icons, codes, expressionism, embodiment and form.

It has been very beneficial for my practice to see all these varying forms of inspiration side by side. Take for example the materiality of Jahnne Pasco-White accompanied by the overtly glorifying symbols of Frederic Remington, submerged in a soundtrack of Nick Cave. If you squint just enough, and overly compliment my making, you may just be able to see this variety of art smooshed together into the aesthetic that is my work.

This visual gathering of my differing sources has definitely been the most important aspect of this process. My practice is deeply focused on the exploration of supposed opposites and how these alternate themes, like figuration and abstraction, compliment and contrast not just within the pairs, but the whole scope. Diving into what an object represents verse what is represented; or as touched on in the dossier, the symbol verse what it symbolizes. Meaning this dossier serves almost as an instruction manual for all the parts that support my whole (practice).

The CArts and rafts dossier highlights how entangled the contextual supports of my practice are. It is not simply a case of just discovering an artist’s work, researching and then moving on. As seen, I am constantly circling and re-circling back to them; as I divert off expanding my practice and then reinforcing the original areas further at a deeper level. For example, Sam Gilliam’s work is briefly touched on towards the start of the dossier while I first began to experiment with a drop sheet in my practice at the start of the semester. I then shifted my focus onto other areas of making, such as the cowboy motif in the works of artists like Richard Prince. Eventually this motif fed into materiality and installations, leading me back round into a more in-depth investigation of Gilliam’s work via books from the library.

The final benefit of this dossier has been having these visual references, previously only accessed by sifting through a mass of personal photos (currently all of my new baby nephew) on my phone, all collected in the one place. And more importantly, instead of just my written notes on the theoretical overviews and key quotes of other artists practices, it has been highly beneficial having this dossier to post specific artworks that embody the overall themes as singular visual forms.