#CRIVENS

[goodgrammaritan]

The Nac Mac Feegle were real, and once again she wished they were here. There was something about the way they shouted "Crivens!" and attacked everything in sight that was so very comforting.

The Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett

[cabbagequeen323]

Not me panicking that I don't have enough flour to make my loaf of bread when I'm standing RIGHT next to my 50lb bag of flour

[zootsutra]

The crawstep in essence.

Ok <walks away in a direction you cant see or imagine>

[soaringsearingphoenix]

hi i just woke up so this post is gonna be long

Dream Vocab of the Day: criven/ crivening

Real word when awake?: technically "crivvens!" is a Scottish "exclamation of surprise, sometimes used for comedic effect" which I imagine is a definition missing some detail. But i hadnt heard of it until I looked it up just now, i dont think

Obvious influence of a real word?: no

Definition in dream: to ramble, specifically to tell a long story out of its personal importance to the speaker despite it not necessarily being 'on-topic', but where others may be too polite to interrupt (for example, when a parent talks about their kids, or when an adult talks about a moment of nostalgia for their childhood.) It happens when the speaker gets a little bit too emotional about what they're saying for the event setting, or for the level of closeness with present company, especially if they are trying to mask the fact that they're getting a bit emotional by continuing to talk Children cannot criven. Crivening is based on its context in situations with etiquette that doesnt really apply to children, as its more expected of them to chat without a fully developed sense of timing cues, and to openly express how they feel when they do. It's kind of a minor faux pas you make at a gathering, like a business dinner party, by holding the floor for too long, and being very genuine about it, when the situation dictates mostly inconsequential small talk. An important feature also seems to be that the speaker doesn't necessarily realize they're doing it, so an infodump is not the same as a criven because it can occur anywhere rather than exclusively at large social gatherings, and the speaker may be self-aware that they are infodumping.

Encountered in dream?: Yes, a lady was doing it and got accused of doing so by her husband, which she instinctively protested but then changed her mind. In the dream I was intending to go to a cousin's school play, and as i walked i encountered a crowd including a teacher whose name reminded me of my fourth grade teacher's name. The lady had also known a teacher with a similar name and talked for a few minutes about how lovely a teacher the woman had been, at which point her husband said "I think this is the first time I've seen you crivening," to which she said "I am Not crivening!" later, they showed me a dark green felt fedora, and the woman explained it had been her father's - "we called it his Crivening Hat because he used to wear it on formal outings" and apparently he was pretty chatty; he sounded like a nice man, but frequently a very sincere one too

[khorazir]

“The Wee Free Men”

Illustration for chapter 1 of my new Payneland fic The Case of the Stolen Barrow, the second story in my Figuring Out The Rest series. Crivens!

[nerdfins]

Crivens!

I made this one for funsies, and tonight I realized I needed a character for my husband's Runescape-based campaign. He's already annoyed at my shenanigans.

[strangelittlestories]

CRIVENS!!

The word was written in huge and shaky letters across the digi-glass face of the Justice Exchange building.

It cast large shadows across the trading floor. The morning sun had just risen above the billboard forest and at this time would usually be diffusing through the ads played on the windows like gently hypnotic stained glass.

The brokers who hawked civil responsibility and criminal liability were fond of the light show; they found it soothing and would often debate the merits of the kaleidoscopic effects of adverts for Hyperboat: the ‘Self-Driving Cruise Ship’ versus ‘Procrast-e-Nation: Literal Timeshares’.

Thus, the shadows distracted and grumpified the brokers - making the pursuit of justice on the bustling commercial arena an even riskier proposition than usual.

The Judicial Agents of Restitution (JARs) were proactive in their pursuit of the graffiti artist, suspecting subliminal subversiveness hidden within the message.

It turned out, the culprit was simply a junior equity administrator who had developed a psionic mutation, likely due to high levels of exposure to the Poe’s particles (expelled when the Justice Exchange hit an especially tangled conflux of Poe’s Law leylines). It was either that or stress.

They interrogated him in one of the soundproof teleconferencing pods. They taped up a blanket for privacy, but this didn’t stop the brokers from rubbernecking in (or hacking the web cameras), keen to see a small slice of justice in action.

After a series of scans, a quick personality test, and a light round of ‘legal and proportional force’, they more or less had it figured out. The admin had, just that morning, developed the peculiar power to make his thoughts external. The word ‘CRIVENS’ on the outside of the building had, in fact, been the result of his initial surprise at having developed that power.

He assured the agents that no harm had been intended. He was, after all, a dutiful worker without a subversive bone (or rebellious organ or even vaguely mutinous membrane) in his body.

The agents thought about this. They consulted their superiors. They did a quick straw poll amongst the Ethical Consultants resident at the Exchange (who were happy to volunteer their expertise in exchange for a discount at the smoothie bar).

It was unanimously agreed that, no matter how good at 3D spreadsheets they were, someone who might express their genuine thoughts at any time - outside of easily-monitored and approved rebel outlets - was actually extremely subversive indeed.

The admin protested that this was out of his control. He would never intentionally do or say anything untoward - sincerity might just occasionally … slip out.

He was swiftly informed that this was, of course, *worse*.

As they dragged him away, he thought to himself about how rotten and fractured this whole experience had been.

And that is when the Justice Exchange cracked open like an egg, a fissure opening from its foundations to its roof and then spreading inexorably out through the rest of the city.

This is how the entirety of FairTrade City was broken by a single exclamation of surprise.

To put it another way - it put the *riven* into ‘crivens’.

---

The word ‘crivens’ was submitted as a pun-seed by a Word of the Month member. To become a member and suggest words for puns of your own, please check out https://ko-fi.com/strangelittlestories

[adtothebone]

Crivens! This here donut be encrusted with mild pop rocks!

[cygnoir]

Today I was grateful for texting with loved ones, commiserating with FunkyPlaid, and filling my journal with everything I cannot say out loud. I’ll be ready to get back to work soon. Until then, here’s Crivens.

[cabbagequeen323]

Oh crivens my child is driving me up the wall today

[misspadfoot]

Nac Mac Feegle wa-hey! CRIVENS! day three of practicing faces, Rob Anybody. a blue paint chip wasn't the best idea for viewing, but it had to be blue. Still came out nicely I think.

[imbrisvastatio]

OCKISSWEEK prompt rain

Zorah and Althea from Crest

598 words, not read over in the slightest

“What's little miss brave and sunshine doing out here in the rain?”

Zorah didn't spare her a look. She couldn't. How could she? After everything they had done together and now-

“I don't want to leave.”

“That's not true.” Zorah replied.

“I don't want to leave you.”

“Don't say that. Don't you say that.”

“Come with me.”

Zorah looked at her. Althea. The friend she never thought she would make. A thief. A runaway. Antagonizing.

“This is all I have left of her.” Zorah said softly.

The raindrops sounded so loud as they splashed against the river below. They bridge they had met up on so many times. They bridge that became a spot for them. So much had happened in the past few months for them both.

“You have yourself.”

“What are you saying, Althea?” Zorah’s frustration was almost out of character. The girl put on such a brave face for everyone. She had to. How else was anyone going to take her seriously?

“She's gone. We can't change that. And Criven will move on. But!” Althea paused, pointing firmly at Zorah before she began to argue. “You are her most prized. I didn't know your mother. But I know you. And I know everything you said about her. Wherever you are, she is there too.”

“Do you really mean that? Or are you just saying that?”

“Of course I mean it, Zorah. I might be a thief, but I'm not exactly a liar.”

“Do you like the rain?” Zorah asked looking back down at the river. Though it only lasted a moment before she closed her eyes and faced the sky.

“Yeah, I guess so. It always felt like home. But it's not dreary anymore.”

Althea took a soft step forward. A test. Waiting for Zorah to tell her to leave her alone. To go ahead and go. Waiting to be shooed far away from the city.

“My mother loved the rain. I never understood it like she did. Not til she was gone.”

“And now?” Althea took another step.

“I find it beautiful, and a little dreary.”

“I guess the sun can't see itself.”

Zorah wiped the rain water from her face and looked back at Althea. And it was all Althea could see. The sweet girl as bright as the sun even in the rain. Her hair pulled back tightly, only now starting to lose the smallest bit of curl.

Bare faced and ready for anything. Yet Althea knew the struggle it took. She had seen the girl crumble too many times. She had watched herself force her bravery. Zorah would never understand that is why she was brave. Braver than Althea by a world of distance.

“Maybe that's why we make rainbows.” Zorah spoke so softly. The memory lingered- stuck to them like a thorn and yet they never wanted to remove it. Months ago now when everything was different. “The little rain clouds need to see they are just as important. Just as brave.”

Zorah reached out her hand and Althea took it. She allowed Zorah to pull her close. To wrap her arms around her.

“Ask me again.”

Althea looked into her bright eyes. At the smile on her face. This was love. This was safe. This was more than she had ever had before.

“In a moment.”

Althea grinned before kissing her. Gently now. Safety could be soft too. And it was finally Zorah’s turn to learn that not everything rough was dangerous.

[noirandchocolate]

Semifinal comments time!

Match 1, Vimes vs. Granny

I think this one would go down to the wire. Yes running away is a victory condition, but hwo is faster on the draw. Granny stopping him from running with headology, or Sam Vimes' notorious thinking feet. This one goes down like a showdown at high noon, with both of them having already planned out their moves and just waiting for the bell to ring. But Granny didn't expect Sam to think with his feet. So his head is like oh no but his feet say let's run. So Sam wins it.

--@kane-dream

They do not fight. They sit together and have a civil conversation. Granny sipping tea. Vimes smoking. Very calm but everyone has cleared out a 100 yard blast radius in terror. no one will ever know what they talked about. And then Granny emerges victorious.

--@myidealhousehaschickenfeet

This one was HARD. I would love a good story where they met and respect each other in their own silent grumpy way. Sorry Sam Granny wins, she has the wrath of a celestial body and the world bends around her.

--@chaosnail

Sam gives in because he knows if he wanted to win it would take so long he wouldn't make it home in time to read to Young Sam. Which as we all know is just something that you do not miss.

--@msmeiriona (OKAY now I'm picturing everybody attending this bout in the park and then it strikes 6:00 and Vimes calls a time out and Sybil brings Young Sam over and then all the city-based contestants help read the book for him because they Know while at first the outsiders are like '????????' However they quickly catch on and start improvising their own pages. Susan does the Voice for a Death of Rats SQUEAK, Mrs. Gogol surprises everyone with an uncannily accurate crow for Legba the rooster, etc. Rob is soon delighted to yell 'It goes, CRIVENS! Tha' is a Nac Mac Feegle, ye ken! Tha' is no' my coo-beastie!' line. And as @onwardsandsideways said it, 'Nanny wins here as she becomes an honorary grandmother to Young Sam by the time the match ends.')

Match 2, Nanny vs. Angua

Angua deals with Nobby on a regular basis. So I don't think Nanny's usual embarrassing tactics will work here.

--@missnotlob

Rather than her usual embarrass them with bawdy jokes tactic, Nanny employs a make em feel self conscious by being just the sweetest old lady tactic and then presses hard. Angua regardless of her usual temperament suddenly finds that she doesn't want to risk not getting sweets from nanny by being so impolite as to beat her to a pulp. Nanny could hold her own better in a brawl than anyone would first think looking at her but she's a witch. And knowing when to just be something approaching normal about things is broadly what separates witches from wizards after all.

--@violetren

Angua's only true defense is that her relationship with Carrot prevents her from becoming a daughter in law. That is NOT enough.

--@nerdomancer

Much as I love Angua she is simply and distincly outclassed by the Old Witch Who Fucks.

--@twofoursixohjuan

Angua would be absolutely flummoxed at first but would get led down the pub by Nanny, with the promise of stories. Nanny, who knows a werewolf in need of a drink when she sees one gets the gel off the street and away from the coppering nonsense for a spell.

--@batsonthebrain

Now there's naught left but the final! WHICH OLD LADY WILL REIGN VICTORIOUS?

[jellymish-reblogblog]

Crivens!

[khorazir]

Both illustrations for my first Dead Boy Detectives Payneland fic Eight Seconds. Here’s the summary:

A stroll through London after a case and a reminder that the Tour de France is under way make the boys reminisce about their own encounters with this particular bicycle race seventy-six years apart. As memories long buried are unearthed, they realise some things about themselves and their relationship.

Two sequels are planned. The second story in the series will be an hommage to Terry Pratchett (GNU) and feature some of his creations. Let me just say “Crivens!” ... 😜

The third story will be a crossover with BBC Sherlock and will have both teams of detectives investigating a case at St. Hilarion’s School for Boys.

[earhartsease]

having fnd is sometimes like having your own visitation of nac mac feegles - your leg muscles suddenly yell crivens! and start fighting each other joyfully at 2 am